Is that the baby?

It's official Jess is enrolled in preschool.  Jess and I walked across the street the other day and turned in the first of many packets of forms we will turn in on her road to scholastic success.  I wanted to walk in the parking lot and Jess wanted to run, which actually seemed fairly symbolic of how I was feeling.  She proceeded to fall and part of me wanted to scoop her up and say, "See you're not ready yet. Come home with Mommy".  But truth be told she is ready.  I have watched her change so much within the last six months its mind boggling.  I was just telling Rick the other day how I was watching her in her little gym class sing to the songs, do the hand movements, and just generally blossom out of toddlerhood into preschoolness.  Hopefully no English teachers will ever read my blog or they will pull my degree back for my questionable made up words.  You get the idea...she's growing up.

I happened on this great article the other day about how raising four kids is easier than one, which I do actually agree with.  Albeit three in my case.  The end of the article gave a great analogy of kids being like balloons just floating up and passing by us and giving a quick bump as they go.  That really spoke to me.  My three girls are in such a rush to get big and move onward and upward and here I am with my feet planted on the ground trying to figure out how I can hold on to their strings just a little longer.

The next six months are going to be big ones for Jess.  Her vocabulary is getting bigger every week.  My latest favorite quote, "you're going to make me cry Momma"  just never stops being cute.  She jumping and getting air.  Plus spending all her waking time chasing her sisters and learning from them.  Which, as we know, can be good and bad.  Luckily I couldn't ask for better mentors (for the most part).

So once again, I find myself in that same spot of loving the every growing person my girl is turning into and wanting to scream at the world to slow down.  I'm holding onto that balloon string as tight as I can.  There's a little give, and each day I convince myself I should let it out a little more.  Just don't ask me to untie it from my wrist.  I'm not ready to watch it float up so high I can't see.  That goes for all three.

Super Sensitive

I was at work the other day and there happened to be this speaker that came to talk about distracted driving.  Now I didn't happen to make it to the presentation myself, but I was talking with a male co-worker, father of three, after the presentation and he was telling me all about it.  The speaker went on and told some great stories to our student about the dangers of driving while distracted, gave statistics, etc.  But then came the whammy.  Her son was killed in a car accident where the driver was being pressured to drive quickly, he wasn't wearing a seat belt, and his story came to a tragic end.  The teacher and I both agreed that the story was heart breaking, but what we most agreed on was the fact that when you become a parent something gets turned on inside you that makes you highly sensitive to hearing stories where there are kids involved. 

I've always had a great imagination.  Heck, I'm an only child who had more imaginary friends than I care to admit.  Of course I have a good imagination.  When I read a story, I start channeling Picasso and get busy painting that picture.  I also tend to be a little on the passionate side. When I read a story about injustice or the like I tend to get a little excited.  Can you tell I'm downplaying that a bit.  Yeah I get really excited.  This combination was problematic enough and led me to turn off the nightly news before going to bed.  Then eight years ago we threw in the cherry on top by becoming a Mother.  If you couldn't tell from my other posts, my family is my life.  So when I read a story in the paper or hear a story on the news about a child being hurt or killed, my heart hurts. But it's not just a sympathetic 'ah that's too bad kind of hurt'.  It's a pain that is indescribable.  It's the same pain you feel when you look at your child and know you can't make them feel better.  Or the pain you feel when they are crying out your name and even if you're choosing to ignore it, the ache is still there.  As my co-worker so perfectly stated, "something just happens the second you have a child, you just feel more." 

I'll be perfectly honest there are some days I would love to turn this "feel feature" off.  I love that my heart is bursting each time I set eyes on or even think about my three little people.  But balancing all that love with all the scary stuff going on in the world can just turn a persons heart inside out.  I think that heightened "feel feature" might just be one of those perks of being a parent that no one mentions because it's kind of not a perk.  It's just something that you take along with the job because the rest of the gig is so awesome. 

Right of Passage

My two oldest girls just had their first sleepover during the Christmas break.  I had held off on doing the sleep over because I said they were "too young".  But I finally gave in to peer pressure (aka Rick) and let them do it.  Truth be told I think I held off because I wasn't ready not because they weren't.  I wasn't ready to have them be out of my grasp and from under my watchful eye.  Control freak much?  Can't you hear the helicopter blades screeching above your head?  And wouldn't you know it, they had a great time.  It started me thinking about all the rights of passage that kids go through.  I remember having a sleep over at my house.  I remember my first TV crush.  I love you Ricky Schroeder!!!  I wish I still had that autographed picture.  Took six months for me to get, but man was I excited.  I remember begging my Mom to let me wear make up and her finally agreeing to every other day. Although somehow I just happened to convince her that 'nope I didn't wear it yesterday'.  And what about the ear piercing? That has already come up in our house.  So many things you go through as a kid.  A sleep over is really small potatoes. 

But this whole sleep over business just got me thinking...What's next?  My oldest is eight. Reasonably speaking we aren't really that far from potentially having our first crush on someone be it on the big screen (hopefully) or in real life.  We are only five years away from when I promised she could get her ears pierced.  Eek.  Here I am watching the little one finally learn how to jump with both feet while my oldest is sleeping over and having opinions about clothing and just basically ripping through life like a tornado. 

I have to admit the only exciting part to this whole lose of childhood has been to watch how my two girls have matured this past year.  I recently had a terrible migraine and I just wasn't able to rally.  Lex took the little one back and made sure she went potty and washed her hands, Gabby put her down for a nap and then started in on her homework, and then both of them were so quiet and let me sleep.  I was so incredibly grateful at that moment that I had two older girls to help out.   Sometimes I feel like I spend so much time missing them as babies that I forget to stop and be thankful for the wonderful little people that they have become. 

So I guess I need to get on the bus, strap on the belt and get ready for those rights of passage. I can try to postpone, prolong the inevitable, but they are coming.  They should bring me nothing but joy because they are a sign my wonderful girls are growing up.  I guess I should find a little humor.  It could be worse...their walls could be covered with Michael Jackson posters and they could be kissing their Ricky Schroeder autographed (did I mention that) picture before heading into bed.  We aren't there yet.  They still think their Dad hung the moon, at least for a little while longer. 

When is it too much?

I am among the fortunate ones to be a part-time stay home Mommy and part-time worker bee.  Each of my jobs I truly cherish and God love my husband for working so hard and allowing me the opportunity to have those two jobs.  But...I digress.  Since I'm home for part of the time I thought 'heck why not take on a few more roles this year'.  So I dawned my stylish volunteer cap and became a Girl Scout leader for my girls troop, a member of the School Site Council at school, helped out at the school walk-a-thon, volunteered to take the school recycling every Friday to the recycling drop off, baked at every possible school event, blah, blah, blah.  Basically if there was a job to be done, my name was on the list.  Honestly, people almost expected my name to be on a list. I would have people call me and make sure I was ok if they didn't see my name.  Now, don't get me wrong I love volunteering.  I get a personal high off helping people and it's a complete feel good for me.  But at the end of the year I ended exhausted and feeling a little sour.

I had scheduled a few too many events on one day in particular .  There was some running involved and maybe a brief rocking in the corner episode but I had managed to get everything in place for both events.  While I was running wild I kept in my mind that the girls would love it and the parents would love it and that would bring the joy for me.  Well the girls had fun and a few parents said it was nice, but the girls weren't appreciative and some didn't seem like they gave a rats.  I wasn't expecting fanfare, but a few thank you's or at least a 'this was fun' would have made all the difference.  I was even disappointed that some of the parents that I expected to help out didn't bother.  Kind of reminded me of when you spend that extra time making your kids that fun lunch and cutting their sandwiches in cute animal shapes and they don't even realize what you have done.  "HELLO those are ducks and frogs on your plates kids, not just a sandwich!  Wake up!!"

Anyways...I got over not having rose petals thrown at my feet, but it got me thinking about going overboard and doing too much.  Would the kids have been just as happy if I threw out a box of cookies and said 'here you go' as opposed to setting up a decorating station with homemade sugar cookies?  Could I just have worked an hour shift at the walk-a-thon instead of two full days in which I really  missed the entire event because I was trapped behind a table selling food not interacting with my kids?  Could I pick one event to give a baked good for instead of five? 

I guess with the new year this is the time to prioritize and really think about my time.  I think it might be time to draw some lines.  Does it mean I won't give when I can?  As my sweet Baby J would say "NO way!"  But I think I will definitely look at cutting back and making sure my giving isn't cutting into time I want to be spending doing other things.  Because truth be told, I'm home to spend time with my three little loves not prove I'm volunteer of the year.  Heck why stop at volunteer of the year.  I'm going for the big prize baby!  Watch out Mom's.  I'm going for the Mom of the Year.  Well at least in this house.

Waiting for the 1st!

As a Mom, from the second your child takes their first breath you are constantly looking for their firsts.  First dirty diaper means their kidneys are functioning properly.  First successful latch on means now you are an official traveling food cart for your child and they are on the road to being the healthy chubby Gerber baby you dreamed of.  And these are just the 'firsts' in the first few hours of life.  From day one onward you are on the lookout. 

Of course, as any good Mother, you read every possible journal, periodical, baby book, and Google search to learn when all these first things should be happening.  You get nervous when their first hasn't happened at the same time little Timmy's first happened.  Try as we can not to compare our children to others, we can't help ourselves.  It's human nature.  Why is that kid running and mine is rolling like a top from room to room?  We want the firsts to happen quickly!

Once they finally walk, string some words together that make a somewhat intelligible sentence, and are able to interact with others without biting, you figure you are over most of the major hurdles.  Well....Take a breathe. Enjoy the moment and realize the walking and the talking was nothing.  The big stuff, the major FIRSTS are still to come.  My oldest daughter turned eight this year.  We are no longer Gabby, we want to called Gabriella.  She will walk with me but only until we reach the school and then it's super fast walk in hopes of losing me in the halls.  She has a style, an opinion, a little crush (though she will shoot you the 'no way' eyes if you ask her).  I love this little person and all these changes.  But I can't help but realize that with all this change there are bound to be some 'firsts' in our horizon.  It's inevitable.  Firsts that I'm sure will be hard, that will challenge all of us, and will break a few hearts.  

So with the first of the year coming, I stop and reflect on all those marvelous firsts and wish for a moment that I had stopped and maybe not wanted them to come so fast.  Because some of the ones that are going to be coming, I'm going to wish they would hold off another few years.

The Rock Star Turns 2

Hard to believe the smallest member of the band turned two today.  Now since this is my last child, I have consciously made an effort to slow down and enjoy the process.  I'm not as concerned about the house being spotless.  If sweet pea wants to read a book and the dishes need to be washed, well then the dishes wait until we read.  But even with all this meandering through life and smelling roses and what not, two years has still flown by.

I guess it hit me the most the other day when I went out to the living room only to find the big girls had taken Jess with them on their outside adventure.  At first I panicked.  "Be careful with the baby!"   But when I went outside, there was "the baby" hanging out digging with her sisters  just as content as could be.  And when I looked at them it wasn't like looking at my two big girls and the baby, it was like looking at my three girls.  My baby was not a baby anymore. She was holding her own. 

What I'm still a little stumped on is what is this little person going to be like?  I have to be honest, she has been such a joy to get to know.  Anyone that knows me at all, knows that I am completely enamored with my kids.  But this one has me completely smitten.  If the big crystal blue eyes (thank you my sweet husband) don't rope you in, then the infectious laugh and just basic love of life and music might win you over.  Anywhere we go that she hears music she gets that booty rockin and a big smile on her face.  Hard not to fall in love with that.  She has taken to trying to manage the radio from the backseat.  If she doesn't hear a song she likes I quickly hear, "No mama song".  After one car ride of hearing that from almost 20 minutes, well let's just say I always bring my own tunes.

Her vocabulary is expanding by the day.  According to all the grandparents she has the biggest vocab out of all the kids at this age.  Of course, I remind them that they said that about all the kids.  Jess isn't quite as pleased with her vocabulary though and when she can't quite find the right words has recently taken to pulling hair.  Very reminiscent of her older sisters.  Ah yes - one was a biter and one a hitter.  Good times.  So she has a nice strong will. I always say that isn't a bad thing.  Not so fun to raise, but definitely a trait you want your kids to possess.  One of the nicest traits I see so far is that she is easy to jolly along.  Jess can be screaming one minute and then the next she is laughing hysterically.  That is just a good natured baby to the core.

So if I've learning anything from my extensive seven years (hee hee) of being a Mother it's that I don't think I'm going to be able to figure out who Jess is yet.  Chances are I won't ever totally nail her down.  But I sure am enjoying getting to know her.  What a wonderful child and one that I am Oh So Proud to call mine.

I love you my week Dancing Queen.  Happy 2nd Birthday Jessamine Mae.

It's supposed to come naturally right?

I was talking with a friend about a mutual friend that just had a baby. She was telling me about how the new mommy is finally getting into the swing of the breast feeding and the baby is getting bigger, etc, etc.  This Mom is the epitome of an earthy Mom.  She wanted a birth at home, natural baby clothes and cloth diapers for the baby.  You get the idea. So to be struggling with something so natural as breast feeding was killing her.  I just remember thinking the same thing with Gabby.  Here I was with my first.  I got these HUGE knockers and just couldn't figure out how to make it all work.  Seemed like it shouldn't be that hard.  Screaming baby.  Big full boobs.  Yep that seemed like a 2+2 equation, but it really was not that easy.  But isn't that like parenthood in general?

I can tell you that my idea of being a parent before I had kids was so far from what it is now that I actually have my three darlings.  My pre-kid images definitely matched more of the Pampers commercials, Hallmark movie specials, kind of feel. Woman has a child.  Naturally fits into being the perfect Mother.  Kids grow into  overly intelligent/athletic/Olympians by the age of 10.  All naturally perfect.  The reality is the only thing that comes naturally to me is loving them. All the rest of this parenting stuff is foreign and half the time I think they can tell I'm making it up as I go along.   

I thought about my new Mommy friend for the rest of the day and I just wanted to tell her to give herself a break.  Yeah we were blessed (not so sure about that) with being able to provide but that doesn't mean we necessarily can or even want to.  Our baby won't think any less of us.  We aren't naturally going to know the right answer always, but as long as our kids know they have a brick to fall back on if they need it, they will be strong little people.  And if every day we try to help guide them into being the best people they can possible be then we have used our biggest natural ability, love, to it's fullest.