growing, growing, gone

if I being honest, N has spent most of the last two years on my last nerve, which is a testament to just how long a nerve can stretch... i adore him with my entire being but he is my child, and by default, he got a little bit of my crazy.

he trots off to the world of a school kid next week and i truly do not know how to walk him up those steps and deposit him into academia without me around to hold his hand and shake my head at his antics.
how will i be able to leave a little piece of heart in a classroom and acknowledge that the last five years are in fact, behind me? he is so small, but he was so much smaller.

in many ways i feel like i wasted so much of our time together. i specifically worked part-time to spend more hours at home with him and his sister. i had such high hopes for projects and day trips and teaching by example.

for months and years, we had time, time, time.
time to read stories the next day because too much work had to be done.
time to accept instead of correct.
time to mess up our parenting a zillion times without them remembering.
time to almost fantasize about when he was "older" or more "self-sufficient" or more "independent"...

damn it.
that time is now. and i can't help but feel i didn't have enough time.
i didn't lead a good enough example.
i didn't just enjoy it for what it was.

there is no amount of perfection that would be more than what he deserves and though i have certainly tried very hard to be a good mom, i can only hope that it was enough. i pray that he will be a well-adjusted little person that is respectful and kind, that can take criticism and direction. i pray that he uses that crazy strong will for leadership. most of all, i pray that he knows just how much i love every sweet, crabby, spirited and handsome fiber of his little self and that he feels that my thoughts are with him through the day.

i think there was at least time enough to teach him that.

camping saves lives

sometimes playdate teaches you a thing or two.
usually it has something to do with how the maximum volume for a given household can increase six thousand-fold within seconds of playmate arrival or how best buddies can fight just as ruthlessly as siblings. but today it was actually something helpful. the boys constructed a "tent"in the living room.
tents are fun.
good times.
that is, until you must return blankets to their storage places dog hair and preschool-snot laden or launder the whole mess. but no matter.
tents are fun.
good times.
and also crazy good babysitters. because little A has been sitting silently alone in the tent for the last 25 minutes while the boys run rampant... noisily, possibly violently around the house.
tents are safe.
good times.

the post that concerns the entire bi-state area

i have crazy blog envy. or maybe blogger envy. idk. all i know is that i can't get myself to do it (the bloggy blogging) man!
i am reading amazing, happy, super-excited-that-it-is-the-Christmas season blogs. and though i AM actually super-excited-that-it-is-the-Christmas season, i just can't seem to sit down and form any happy little blog posts.
i just need to get through the next week.
i think.
i KEEP saying that. please baby Jesus let it be the case.

it is not that i have no material, honestly i do- you're looking at THE girl who knocked over an enormous grandfather clock in the middle of a freaking holiday concert at the governor's mansion... and yes i heard about it from everyone in the bi-state area... and yes as soon as i did it i thought what a fantastical blog post i just paved the way for. but so far i haven't written a thing about it.
maybe next week.

this week i am buried in grading and prepping and rescheduling patients around madness. my kids are all amped up on holiday cheer and hot chocolate and i can hardly keep up. we have been BAD, very bad about going to church lately and when i pictured my church-going self chucking a very squirmy and squealy toddler off the balcony in the middle of mass today i remembered why... at least i would have been close to the confessional.

i'm not sure why i felt compelled to share that piece of insanity (maybe you can all pray for me or send me positive vibes or do whatever it is that will help me) but that is the current state of my mind. and i better get it together soon because the governor's secret service guys have got their eyes on me!!

I couldn't afford THAT textbook

Lately I've been thinking alot about balancing work and play with these kiddos and I've come to the conclusion that even though this motherhood thing is SORTA what i thought it would be like, in many ways it is not. And I thought I'd share some general observations :)



Mommy things I didn’t learn in a book.
 
That kids are hard wired to the bathroom door. As soon as mom’s hand touches the doorknob, little bodies appear from nowhere to keep you company in times of pee.

That as soon as you clean up breakfast, lunch or dinner mess and sit down for a few minutes of snuggle time, your toddler will climb into your lap smelling of the foulest odor to ever grace your presence (since the last time) thus forcing mom back out of the couch to change a diaper.

That when you have a newborn baby and get your first shower in four days, your clean shirt and body will become a magnet for puke. I call this the ‘first law of baby puke attraction’.

Note: the second law involves lying on your back and laughing with your mouth wide open while holding baby up in the air like superman- I assume you get what happens next.

That when you are stressed beyond belief and just need a drink, you won’t be able to have one because wasting breast milk is like chucking diamonds down the drain.

That it will be okay if your kid watches a little tv. Somedays that is the only way you will be able to eat lunch.

That most days your four year old will ask 3,006 questions and over half of them will be “can I have a snack?” They all will begin with the word mom or some variation of it and he or she will expect you to answer them all.

That waiting for exploring baby fingers go to sleep is the first step in folding laundry unless you want to do it twice.

That someday you will be puked on, peed on and puked on all in the same day and none of it will be yours.

That you will never feel good enough.

That you will receive COUNTLESS amounts of advice from people who think they know your children better than you and/or have no children of their own and even though you won't listen to 98.9 percent of it, it will still contribute to the previous statement.

That the pleasure you get from watching the wonder involved with opening and closing a kitchen drawer will far outweigh the frustrations of putting away the contents that end of on the floor.

That there is no better blanket for your grief than a tiny child asleep on your chest.

That when you brush the hair out of your little girl’s eyes and are met with the perfect mimic of your husband’s expression you will fall a little more in love with both of them.

That no matter how many times you have to separate your feuding children, your feeling that they hate each other can melt in an instant when you see them huddled together in one recliner watching a movie and sharing crackers.

That motherhood is ridiculously hard. The hours are long and the boss is a real ball-breaker. There is no vacation or pay. But there are countless benefits and a company car and the freedom to date your most handsome co-worker. It is the toughest job you’ll ever love. And you are not alone.

-Jo 

Quiet Support

Sometimes we experience little moments that remind us that we are not alone, in more ways than one. It has NOT been easy lately- I feel like maybe my son is leaving the last half of his threatening third year in a giant blaze of tantrum glory. It is my hope that he miraculously wakes on his birthday as a sweet civilized and socially aware little man, but right now I just pray for a little daily peace. Several times this morning I asked for patience and guidance out loud, or just for a sign that I am doing okay. And then I randomly came across a St. Ann medal. She happens to be the patron saint of mothers, so this gave me significant pause but what was really amazing is that I truly don’t know where it came from. So thank you for the sign—I guess I am doing okay.