The Sweetest Thing

It's rare that I'm in bed when the kids are still asleep. I'm usually trying to pull it all together by rushing through a shower, making pancakes, and laying out the flat people for my children to jump in. But every once in a while I let myself climb back into bed and cuddle. My cuddle bunny was all too warm and my pillow was beckoning. Well this morning I got a special treat. I was joined by my two oldest loves and then I woke up and got the baby to join us. So here we were on our normally large enough queen bed all warm, cuddly and basically enjoying life. Now, being me, I realized that soon enough I would be breaking up a fight, negotiating with a six year old, and forgetting to pee because I was chasing a rolling baby, but I still savored the moment.

Rick had to go to a funeral today for an alumni that went to our school. She was killed in a tragic accident and had barely even started her exciting life journey. I felt such a heaviness in my heart today. As a parent your kids drive you crazy and make you want to occasional pull your or their hair out. But they are a part of you. I would go as far to say, they are me. They are my happy. My everything. (and yeah I throw my husband in that bin as well)

So while I thought about Rick today at the service I kept remembering the morning bed rumpus. I tried to concentrate on that feeling I had with my whole family safe and around me. That's a feeling I want to lock in the vault and try to draw on when I want to run out on the deck and rock myself silly. Yes they are occasionally infuriating, but I'll take it. Because that's what life with them is going to be like and I wouldn't trade that in for anything.

Those were the days

While leaning into the toilet to apply my new sanitize and clean gel last night, I couldn't help but think about how times change when you become a Mom. It used to be that I would get excited that a new restaurant was opening or a new bar. Now in amongst kid tv shows I catch commercials advertising the latest and greatest in cleaning products. I find myself feeling excited to rush to Target to see if I can find it. The joy that I feel when that product is finally mine and I get to use it for the first time, revivals the old feeling of walking into Cat's Ally for the first time (my favorite college bar).

I felt a little sad thinking about it. With the flush of the toilet, my old memories of how things used to be seemed to be riding the wave down the drain. But then I stopped and remembered that I'm a Mom. Call it pathetic or sad, but that's what Moms think about. Yeah it's not exciting and glamorous but a new product adds a little pizazz to the daily cleaning ritual. And even though my idea of what is exciting and fun have definitely been redefined, it's not bad. I love being a Mom. I love worrying about how I'm going to get that grass stain out. I want the toilet sparkling so all those cute little girl buns have a nice place to sit.

So yeah times have changed, but I wouldn't go back or trade it in. With age comes a redefined sense of what is important. And if using that new Kaboom cuts down my cleaning time so I can spend more time with the little people, than darn it I'm excited about it.

My Idol

I have found that when you become a parent you learn a lot about what you are good at and even more about what you're not. Basically your faults become blatantly obvious.

This isn't too much of a surprise, but I'm a type A, clean freak, with low tolerance, and a get it done quick kind of attitude. Just the kind of person that makes the world worst parent. Now I'm not fishing for a "ah come on you're a great mommy" statement. I know that there are some things I'm really good at. Some days I would even give myself a small good mommy star. But I think it's good to realize "hey I need work". Luckily I have my idol and role model living under the same roof. Yep, my husband.

Rick happens to be a teacher by trade, photographer and woodworker on the side (amongst other skills), and well a generally interesting person. With all his projects, kids included, he takes the right approach, understands the problem, works to find the solution, and just generally does it right. Now some may find it irritating to have this naturally talented fella walking around. And yes, I'll admit sometimes when you're feeling bad about yourself, the glow of greatness moving through the halls doesn't warm, but stings a little. However, how fabulously lucky am I to have this person as my partner in crime in parenting. Where I fail he shines. When I think "how could I have done that differently", he answers by showing. So I consider myself pretty lucky.

I know I'm a project but how great to have the teacher nearby.

The Next American Idol Winner Is...

Since American Idol is starting tonight this seems an appropriate blog topic. I started to realize the other day that my baby gets the biggest smile on her face when I sing. In fact, when I yell at the kids, scream "dinner is ready", or read a book; she is all smiles.

I love that my voice is the sweetest thing to her. Maybe it's because she associates it with being fed or comforted. But whatever it is, it's a nice feeling. Beats the eye rolling, shrugging, walking away that often follows the airing of my voice. She's not old enough to hate the sound of my voice yet. She's not on to the fact that my voice doesn't always mean fun times are about to ensue. She doesn't realize that even the shower judges would kick me off the first week. Passion and volume are there, but pitch and tone went down the drain. All she knows is Mom is talking and Mom equals love. Such a simple equation, but one that right around 2-2.5 years old they tend to forget. One of my favorite memories in fact is my oldest walking down the hall with my (then) baby and saying, "just keep walking, you don't have to listen to her". Uh yeah, one for the record books.

But until that time comes, I'm going to cherish the fact that she thinks my voice is worthy of winning The Next American Idol.

You are, what you are

So I happened to be glancing at my youngest child's baby book this afternoon. It's one of those fill in the blank numbers that provides you the sentence and you drop in the pertinent information. Well there was one question that said, "This is what I think you will be like when you are a teenager." I laughed because I believe that's a pretty easy answer. You are, what you are.

I can tell you that my oldest hasn't changed a bit. I still remember her at 2.5 years old standing in the hall yelling, "You're being ridiculous, and I'm being difficult." Concluding with a stomp into her room. I can tell you the sentences might be longer and the stomp louder, but she is exactly the same person she was the day she came into this earth. My middle child, the same as well. As 2.5 years old she saw tears in my eyes and said, "Momma what matta?". Today, at 4.5, she's bright enough to know that if she asks the question, she better be running to get Kleenex because Mom can lay on the waterworks.

So...going back to the baby book...I really think the personality you are born with is the personality that will follow/haunt you as a teenager and well into adulthood. Until you are old enough to realize that you can control how you act and you can go against your hard wiring, you are pretty much a slave to your DNA. Which if you got the good stuff, you're golden. If you didn't, you've got your work cut out for you.

They Really Do Care

My kids have been truly blessed with an abundance of stuff. Since my two oldest are only sixteen months part, we found that in order to keep the peace we needed to purchase in sets of two. And unfortunately now that they are older, they somewhat expect, want, have a fit, if they don't receive the same item. And yes, that item must be the same color, style, etc. Crazy, I know. But anyways, we have lots of stuff.

So when asked what their favorite things are they really can't tell you. I don't blame them, I blame us for buying too much. If a kid has only one stuffed animal then by default that becomes the favorite. If they have 30, how is one to choose? However, when it comes to getting rid of anything a sudden deep and passionate attachment is formed. Case in point, Issiah. Now who the heck is this Issiah character? Well he is the pumpkin we grew from our garden and the one that Gabby took to share with her class. When he arrived at school, Gabby picked through the old stickers and happened to find an old name tag with Issiah printed on it, and there you have it. Now Issiah has been primed and ready for the ole trash can in the sky since the beginning of December. Somehow Issiah always eludes me. He is at the back door ready to be taken out and suddenly he disappears. He sat in the garage for a while hiding behind some boxes until my oldest spotted him and again he disguised himself and went incognito.

I went back this afternoon only to find Issiah and a small flower in a cup of water. This is the same flower that I mentioned, in passing, was headed for the trash because it was almost dead.

So although slightly crazy making, I find this also endearing. It means my kids really do care. Maybe they don't care as much about stuff as they do about things that grow and/or were once alive. They don't want to throw in the towel and toss something to the curb when people say it's done/over. They are optimists, they think their love alone can revive it. Well...that's not such a bad way to think.

The Great One

This story is appropriate because I really wanted to capture the essence of each of my kids. My oldest is Gabriella Leona (the Lion and yes she is). She is the one that I refer to as my drama mama. And I can say that because she is, unfortunately, exactly like me. She may look more like my husband, but her inside wiring is all me. So here is an example of a conversation that we had. Mind you we probably have at least three of these a day.

G: "Do you have that thing from yesterday?"
Mom: "What thing?"
G: "You know the thing that I was holding in my hand yesterday."
Mom: "Gab help me out a little. Is this a book, stuffed animal, what??"
G: "Ugh you know what I'm talking about!"
Mom: "I really don't. You held a million things yesterday."

I will spare you the rest. This usually goes on another 10 minutes or so, the voices get louder, the patience levels diminish, and it usually ends in two people being somewhat unsatisfied and angry. The problem is that sometimes I really do know exactly what she is talking about. So she expects the mind reading skills to be working 100% of the time. And I in turn expect her to know what I'm talking about.

I am the first to admit that I am the worst person to help her out of a spiral of confusion. But I am also the one that understands her. I am her. I made her. And in all the shuffle, my husband's calm and rational genes just flushed right out. She is passionate and loving and someone you will definitely want to room with in college. Gab has all the traits I love in myself and the ones I hate. She is a reminder of what I need to change and work on.

So if we survive her growing up (which we will) I know that we will be the best of friends. It's wonderful when you find someone that is just like you. It's like talking to yourself, but someone actually answers. But wrestling with yourself on a daily basis is the hardest part. However, if we can help each other through our character flaws and both grow up to be better people, how awesome we will be.

She's a Mom

"What do you want to be when you grow up", my daughter's friend asked me. Before I could even think about opening my mouth my oldest had replied with, "She's a Mom". I quickly gave her a "Yeah but I do work part time". My daughter looked at me with those big blues, gave them a roll (which since she is only six is more of a head rolling than just eyes), and then laughed at me like I had just said something funny.

It dawned on me that the majority of the time the kids see me making breakfast, pouring milk, running out to fold clothes, finding missing shoes, doing princess hairstyles, changing poo poo pants, and all those other not so glamorous "Mommy type" things. When I leave to go to work I can only imagine they are thinking I'm just somewhere else tying shoes and wiping noses. I'll admit it bothered me a little to be seen just in this Mommy figure role. But then I realized, wait but that's what I'm good at (most days anyway). That's what I wanted to be when I grew up. It's the role of a lifetime and now I finally landed it. Yeah the pay is pretty minimal and I'll never get a promotion, but the beni's are great!

Like everyone I think my kids walk on water and truly say some of the greatest quotes ever. I have a 6 year old theatrical giant, a 4.5 year old future mathlete, and a 6 month old smiley, rolly bundle of a baby. This blog is my way to share funny stories and document a day in the life of a glamorous Mommy.