Thursday, October 25, 2007

Sunday night sorrow

Sunday night was a hard one for me.

After Mr. B came waltzing into the bathroom one morning (apparently after climbing out of his crib) I came to the realization that it was indeed time for "the big boy bed".

I have been prepared for this moment for months. Or at least prepared in the material sense.

I had the bed.
I had the sheets.
I had the comforter.
I had the pillows.

We were set, or so I thought.

What I didn't have was the right mindset. Yes folks, I have become "one of those mothers."

As I began to unscrew and take apart his baby bed I realized that THIS time I wouldn't be putting it back up. The era of our life that included babies, bottles, pacifiers, cribs and carriers had came to an end.

There are some good things about my children growing up.....but at that moment, sitting on the carpeted floor in the middle of his bedroom, I could not think of one. All I could think of was my children, and more specifically, my baby, no longer being my baby.

Of course, I still call my four year old, Miss L, "my baby", and in my heart they both will always be "my babies", but their growing bodies tell me that they are now anything but.

Each time I watch their daddy pick them up and take them to their beds, my heart is overcome with a sadness and a love that is so strong it is painfully scary. Love....well that one is obvious, but sadness......sometimes that one surprises even me.

Sadness that one day we won't carry them to bed.
Sadness that one day they won't want the kisses and hugs I freely bestow on them.
Sadness that life is unscripted and unknown, and the future we wish for isn't always the future we get.
Sadness that I know they will never understand how much I love them, until they love someone else that much, and that someone else most certainly won't be me.......but their own children.

However, for at least this moment, I will let the sadness drift away and smile because God has given me two of the sweetest gifts.

Monday, October 22, 2007

If I would have only known.....

that carved pumpkins only last about a week, I sure wouldn't have bothered. Thank goodness scrapbook pages last longer.

I gathered up the kids and they grabbed their respective pumpkins and we commenced the carving...... I thought "this is what good mom's do..."

This moment was almost picturesque except for the fact that I, being the model parent that I am, failed to notice Mr. B stabbing away at the pumpkin with a serrated steak knife.

Did I mention that I am a model parent that always has my children's safety at the forefront of my consciousness?

(Notice the knife wielding two year old....while I am serenely smiling for the camera)

After the kids felt the goo on the inside of the pumpkin their interest quickly faded and it was I that was left to scrape all of the slimy guts out of the pumpkin and do the fancy knife work sans Mr. B.

So, I did the clean out, the clean up and the carving. All for about six jack-o-lantern lit nights....

What a rip!

However when I scrapbook about this I am sure that I will sugar coat it and record it as being just another (selfless) moment of family filled fun provided by dear old mom.......(sigh)

Kids this young don't really remember anything anyway, right? I mean I am keeping my fingers crossed that my college Child Psychology professor was right and that they only "remember" pictures and stories that are repeatedly told. Hence...the scrapbooks. To date I don't have any pictures where mommy is having a melt down. Nope, I prefer to spoon feed my kids their pleasant memories.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Nightime Bliss

Last night I found myself in bed rather early. I think I just wanted the comfort of the pillows and sheets wrapped around me. I turned on the TV and waited for my two shadows to come join me, as I knew they would, because although Daddy is great and fun and exciting, momma is soft and cuddly.

There is something about me being in bed my kids can not resist.

It doesn't matter the hour. If I am lying down you can pretty much bet that they are going to find me and curl up beside me. And I love it!

Last night as I was lying there with a child wrapped protectively with each arm, me in the center, I whispered out into the night, "I love you". Of course, this was meant for both of them and of course, they both replied back, "I love you."

(I, of course, can not hear this enough. I am an addict.)

I then turned to Mr. B and said "I love you Mr. B" to which he replied, "I love you, momma". I then turned the other direction and said, "I love you, Miss L" to which she replied:

"I love you more and more".

To which I replied, "I love you more than you can ever imagine."

And then she said, "well, I love you all... the way to.... God."

And in my heart I know that this is an awful lot. And it is enough for me.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my dad's birthday and I have been spending a lot of time thinking about him lately. You see, I am working on a heritage scrapbook album that I plan on giving him as a gift for Christmas.

My dad is a man tied deeply to the roots of his ancestors and all of the history and meaning that it brings with it.

He is a man that has a very tough exterior, that sometimes, just sometimes, lets you get a glimpse of the softy beneath.

He believes that our family name is something to protect, uphold and keep both word and deed.

He knows the meaning of friendship.

"A penny saved is a penny earned" and "hard work is the price that you pay for anything worth having", seem to be his mottos.
He sees people as they are and accepts them without reserve. "It's just their nature" is how he tries to explain this to my sister and I.

However, the man I know is a stark contrast to the boy I have heard stories about. The reckless child and the teenage boy with a wild streak and a tendancy to be known as a "ladies man" is someone that I never knew. My dad has always been the picture of maturity for as far back as I can recall. Even though he was 21 when I was born he has always been a "hard working man" in my memory. The older I get the younger he was and I am amazed at the adult life he and my mother chose so early on in theirs. I know how hard parenting is at 31....I can only imagine what it would have been like at 21.

It seems so young. It seems as if life had barely given you enough experience to draw on to take care of yourself, let alone a child. And yet he did. And he did it well, if I say so myself.

Here's to you dad.....Happy Birthday.

(He is the one on the left)

Monday, October 08, 2007


This Friday night I had a girls night out with my mom, my sis, an aunt, and two co-worker/friends of my mom. This night had been a long time coming.

I was excited but the chaos that had encompassed the previous weeks had taken the edge off of my excitement leaving me hoping that this evening would end up being as memorable as I had initially hoped.

It was.

After the two hour drive, hoards of traffic, a fair share of road rage and a fast food meal to go, we were there.

And I was ready.

We had cut our time short and as we were making our way to our seats I could hear the music start to play. I grabbed my sisters hand and pulled her along as I ran in the general direction of our seats.

As I was approaching the entrance nearest our seats I heard the crowd go absolutely wild. I ran head long through all of the foot traffic and craned my I was standing tip-toe balancing on the steps I could feel the vibration of the music as well as the vibration of the excitement that was contained in one arena.

This is what I saw.....

well this is what I saw through my cell real life it wasn't as pixel-ated. (is that a word?) It looked more like this...

And let me tell you now. If you ever get a chance to see Elton John. Do it. I am serious. It does NOT disappoint.
There was no opening act. It is all him.
He walked onto the stage at 8 pm and played non-stop until the show was over at 11.
It was great.
Did we have great seats, you ask? Well, you could still see really well but technically they were the seats the furthest from the stage.

Did that dampen my spirits? Oh no, in fact it raised them. There is an up side to being on the top row, in the far corner. No one can see you. The people across the arena were too far away to see us, everyone below us was looking at the stage..... we had free reign to act like idiots. And yes, ma'm, we did.

We were maniacs......My sister and I danced like we had never danced before......

My mom couldn't do anything but laugh, my aunt was determined to remain foreward facing with eyes averted and the other two just thought we were nuts. But that was OK with us. Because did I mention, we were maniacs, maniacs on the floor.......and we were dancing like we'd never danced before...
We created new moves never before seen by man.....and probably will never be seen again. But it was fun. Elton helped to create a memory with my sister that I will never forget.