Then and Now

Reading through the various pieces I have authored, one can see that much of what I write about pertains to my current life with 2.5 children, a dog that is so human she should be considered a child, and a husband who, God love every inch of him and his greatness, is a child as well. That said, I have been thrust into a life where I am currently raising four children with one on the way while at the same time, not always feeling like I am a grown-up myself until I have to send off a bill or have some random family member reveal a deep, dark secret that was reserved only for those who are old enough to hear it, making you wish you were still all of 16 and considered too immature to handle the drama of real life. Once in a while, when I am allowed to listen to my music instead of Dora from the DVD player (love it when the headphones actually stay on...) a song from my college days/single post-college days will play and I am instantly transported to memories that don't even seem to belong to the same person that I am now. Now before we start to think that I have "lost myself" and could be suffering from depression, let me add the disclaimer that I truly to do love my life and love where I am.. It just always amazes me and stops me in my tracks when I think back to who I was before I became 34 years old with almost three children...I remember jumping off a bridge that connects Sanibel and Captiva Islands when I was 17 years old after an afternoon of consuming, shall we say, beverages that were not legal for someone my age to consume. We all laughed and had a fantastic time as we plunged to the ocean below and it was not until years later when I was relaying this story to my mother that I reazlied how incredibly stupid this was and how easily it could have turned out to have a not-so happy ending. My mother looked at me incredulously and simply stated that the undertow beneath that bridge was legendary and most people do not attempt to swim in that area let alone jump from the bridge to the water below...The mother in me wants to vomit to think of my own children doing something like this someday but yet I know they will because though I did have a mild wild streak, I was still your average teenage girl that had crushes on boys, made good grade (OK, decent), and was very active in extra-curriculars (the real ones,not boys and drinking, though I sometimes did indulge in these as well). One of my friends also loves to tell a story in which I wrote various words with my big toe on the windshield of a car in which I was riding in at 3 a.m. while eating a leftover piece of pizza...Lovely...I could certainly go on, but my point is to simply illustrate the fact that I often stop dead in my tracks and laugh at the fact that I am now raising children that make me wear my heart on the outside of my body - once they reach their teens, I will be fully-aware of what is going on and be sick with worry. Classic Old Spice likes to joke that when our children are trying to pull off all-nighters with friends (you know the drill - I am staying at Jill's house and she is staying at my house and bingo! No one expects us home...) or simply thinking that they concocted a good story that their parents just might believe, it will be me that will call their bluff rather than the much more tame and mild-mannered him. I do take issue with this as his halo is not quite as golden as he would like for us all to believe, but he is probably correct in that I have "been there, done it" with whatever they try to pull. What I do have now that I did not have before is wisdom and to be honest, fear. I used to ride roller-coasters without a second thought while now the idea of getting on one makes me nervous and clammy. I never gave flying in an airplane another thought until I realized how much I had to lose should my plane go down. I used to casually smoke when I was out with friends and the thought of it now makes me ill. I have recently become interested in my genetic history (long story on this one - let's just say that I was conceived through artificial insemination in the 1970's so there is half of my DNA that I am unsure of which of course, now affects my children) whereas I have never given this another thought though I have known this information for quite some time. I look at strange men (and women for that matter) who glance a little too long at my children with a look that is not the friendly smile that I might show a stranger but instead a scowl of a mama bear protecting her cubs from a hunter. This aside, I also must chuckle that I have, though this is difficult to admit, become not as hip as I once was. There are times when I look at myself after I have picked up Missy Moo from preschool, gone to Target, and stopped by the bank and the dry cleaners' and truly am stunned that I would ever even step foot out of my bedroom looking like I did let alone parade myself all over town. In fact, a few weeks ago, a woman (probably a sympathetic fellow mommy) stopped me on my way out of Target to tell me that I had a Cinderella sticker stuck to my arse...How lovely to bring attention to an area of my body that seems to be expanding along with my pregnant belly and who better to showcase it than Cinderella? What recently caused me to stop and laugh out loud was a radio report on "Max and Emme"...Feeling so cool that I knew the broadcaster was talking about the sister/brother combo on "Dragon Tales" and why on earth would they be talking about them on the radio?, I was taken down a few notches when he reported that these were the names that JLo and Marc Anthony had chosen for their recently-born twins. The fact that I know Max and Emme are the children on "Dragon Tales" astounds me but then I know theme songs to almost all major kid's programs and can rattle off all of the characters of Dora in my sleep. Scarily enough, I also have this amazing talent that allows me to create a made-up story following the exact pattern of the show (Who do we ask for help when we don't know which way to go? The map!) while jotting down my grocery list. This talent will not win me millions of dollars nor will it give me a first place on Star Search but if I must confess to a dirty little secret, this is my favorite newly-discovered talent I have yet to uncover. I also like that I am the only one who knows where the poms-poms are located, the one that possesses the great knowledge of how to paint fingernails, the one who can kiss boo-boo's and make the tears disappear, the one who knows how to do "Snug as a Bug" just right...No, I would not trade this version for what I was - OK, maybe just once in a while for a night or so...

At the Pump...

Being a former teacher, one of my "most-inspiring-hall-of-famers" is Annie Sullivan, teacher of Helen Keller. I love her because she took a child who had been labelled as "unable to be educated" and actually did just that - educated her to go on to be one of the world's most brilliant minds despite the fact that she could neither see nor hear. That aside, Annie Sullivan used real-world examples and context to teach little Helen so that it was meaningful instead of relying on the drill and kill method that is so often utilized in this obsessively mandated test-taking world of No Child Left Behind (whoa, let me get on my soap box for a minute...). My favorite scene of "The Miracle Worker" is when Annie takes Helen to the water pump, runs water over her hands and signs the word "water" directly into her palm. I love the lightbulb that goes off for Helen as she frantically runs around her lawn touching everything and holding out her hand for Annie to sign the word for her. Right before I stopped working outside of the home, I worked as a literacy trainer for an organization that used this clip to inspire teachers to be like Annie so of course, I have seen this part several times and think of it often. So the other day I was dangling Bubba Boo over our kitchen sink in an attempt to wash his "crawler" hands - as a little one who crawls, he picks up stuff off of our floors (yes, I sweep every day but we do have a dog and two children) and it makes my skin curl to think he would eat with those grubby paws, hence why I wash my baby's hands. As the water poured over his chubby little digits, I said "water" and his little face beamed and flashed the dimple that melted even the nurses' hearts in the hospital within an hour after his birth (for the record, Classic Old Spice has this trait as well and is one of the reasons why I knew I would marry him within a week after we met). He seemed to be saying "Cool mommy - I am getting this word thing - I am getting that everything has a label," and I immediately thought of Annie and Helen at the pump. This then led me to reflect on what exactly I do want to teach my children as well as HOW on earth am I going to do it...A few things popped into my head: There is no canned program, method, or theory that can educate your child more effectively than your actions. For this reason, I make sure that my children see that I am indeed human. I speak about my emotions freely, in fact, almost to a fault for just the other night as I was helping at Missy Moo's Book Fair at her school she said, "Mommy, are you feeling grouchy?" which I think is quite observant for a girl who just turned three (never mind the fact that she said it right in front of her teacher...For shame!). I lose my cool and say things that make me feel like I am going to suffer in the parenting pit of hell and worry that I have permanently psychologically damaged my children for the rest of time; however, I know that the right thing to do is say that I am sorry and admit that mommy was wrong. As a result, Missy Moo freely apologizes (usually) when she knows she owes one. In no way am I suggesting that I am "Parent of the Year" because of course, there is a down-side to this as well. Recently, Missy Moo started to say things like "I hate my coat" or "I hate to eat carrots" which for some reason, sounds really harsh and rough when it comes out of the mouths of babes. I was bothered by where on earth she could have picked this up until later in the day when I caught myself saying "Oh, I HATE when that happens!". You guessed it - Missy Moo picked this lovely trait up from me. This is not the only time that I will err at the parenting game but I also think that maybe when children see their parents mess up we are better preparing them for the real world in which they will be living (or maybe I am telling myself this so I feel just a little better). The world is not perfect and neither are we - we have good days, and days that are almost comical they are so bad. There are people who will wrong you, as we recently experienced as a family when a former sitter who owed us some money told us she would be at our home "in a half an hour" and was actually in Iowa (true story), people who will put you down and make you feel like you are less than you are, and there are times when an hour feels like the longest period of time on earth. But on the other hand, there are more people who will right you, more people who will build you up, and days when you think an hour is just not enough time to do anything because it goes so fast. A moral compass cannot be changed or rocked in any way - regardless of the trials and tribulations one experiences, that core, that foundation should remain the compass and drive who we really are. No outside occurance can shake this or take it away from you as it is your soul which was molded in your early years and is constantly shaped throughout your life. I remember telling the parents of the students in my classroom that they are their child's first teacher but I never really understood the power and magnitude of this statement until I had my own babies. Emotional core development occurs between the ages of zero to three years old so how can any teacher mold this part of my children? It's up to us to guide this development which is probably going to be my most valuable contribution to this planet after I am gone. To know that Classic Old Spice and I will work fervently to encourage our children to always do what is right makes me believe that it will sink in along the way somewhere and then when THEY have their own babes, they will do the same. It is how the cycle continues and the only way that I can foresee to truly leave the world a little bit better than how I found it. Life experiences take us back to the pump every time and force us to continue to mold who exactly we are and who we strive to be.

It's A Family Affair

There are so many things I was not really prepared for when I became a mother - the utter loss of any time to really do anything for myself, the powerful, animalistic desire to scratch the eyes out of anyone who hurts or insults my babies, the body's ability to survive on an amount of sleep that would have made me scoff in an earlier life...But perhaps the biggest surprise since becoming a mommy is my complete loss of any privacy while I am, nicely put, using the lavatory. I am astounded at how quickly every living being in my house can congregate when mommy tries to sneak off to the restroom for EVEN TWO SECONDS! Let's look at an example from just the other day...I must preface this story with the disclaimer that I am incredibly modest about bodily functions and do not really speak freely about what goes on when I DO use the restroom; however, for the sake of this story, I am going to have to sell myself out a bit and give you the fully monty. If you have ever been pregnant, you know oh so well the lovely side effect of constipation - one of my girlfriends claims that I must eat prunes and truthfully, I tried it and could not shake the feeling that I was eating an oversized gem from someone's nose. My point is that when you are pregnant and you feel that you might actually be able to get some relief in this area, you make a run for it. Luckily, I was at the end one of the best books I have read in a long time (The Used World by Haven Kimmel) and realized that since everyone in my house had just completed breakfast and my husband was peacefully reading the Sunday paper on the couch, it would be safe to steal away to the throne for a bit and take the rare opportunity to actually finish this book and read at a time of the day that I would not normally be able to read a photo caption let alone two to three pages of a book. I let said hubby in on my plan to steal away for a moment and retreated to the throne room with book in hand. Of course, a good half page into the last two pages, the door to the bathroom is flung open and there stands Missy Moo in her princess nightgown waving her magic wand and telling me that since we are going to church, daddy is coming up to shower and she will get to watch Dragon Tales. Quickly behind her was our lovable WonderDog, Ellie Rose, who beelined it straight to me and came pretty darn close to de-throning me while knocking my book to the ground. I take a moment to get off the throne and turn on Dragon Tales for Missy Moo and after I get back to the throne and into my book, hubby enters the bathroom and begins to engage me in conversation. And while I cannot recall the specific topic that Classic Old Spice was trying to cover, I do remember that it was not a light topic - it was not one of those that you can do an "umm-hmm" every now and then while engaged in another activity. I answered him shortly a few times and at about the fourth or fifth question, I lost my cool and said, "I am simply trying to read the last two pages of this riveting book AND attempt to go number two if I may. I can't have this discussion right now." Of course, Classic Old Spice replies with "Gah, you are a grouch - I'm outta here" and finally, leaves me at peace. What I wanted all along and at this point, there is no chance that the coveted release was going to occur. Perhaps it is not the pregnancy that is causing this problem...

Holiday Images

What could be better than reading with Aunt Debbie? Especially a book about "My Big Girl Potty"!

Look what was in my gift bag!!!! My favorite gift so far...

Santa visits our holiday gathering....Bubba Boo is intrigued, Missy Moo is mesmerized until she asked, "Where is Papaw Ted?"

How on earth did I get here and how did my life go so wrong?

Who me? No, Mommy, of course I am not about to grab the Christmas tree in my naked glory or attempt to play with the cord. I would never do a dangerous thing like that!

Just Fine

I am wondering at what point we lose the innocence and magic of childhood and become the serious, tired grown-ups we never thought we would be (or at least maybe I am speaking for myself). I love the way children think and if we simply listen to them, I personally believe that they are on to some things that we might want to take note of. For example, this evening, Missy Moo and I decided to take a bath together in mommy's "big pool" as she calls the bathtub in our master bathroom. Now currently 12 weeks pregnant with my third child in three years (dear GOD!) I had been feeling a little unattractive and somewhat scared to look in the gigantic mirror that allows every imperfection to be seen as you remove your clothing to shower or bathe. I regularly keep my head down and try not to look at the shape that is appearing in front of me - yes, I know I am pregnant but I also worked VERY hard to get all that baby weight off and had reached pre-baby weight when BOOM! I got two lines when I did a quick little test I was sure to be negative...I was really loving the fact that I could pull out old clothes and get some cute new ones, but enough about that...As we were getting ready to get in the tub, both of our naked bodies waiting for the water to stop, Missy Moo reached over to me and with her heart-melting smile simply patted my leg and said "You're just fine." Now how did she know? What kind of cosmic knowledge did she possess to know that that was exactly what I needed to hear at that moment? It got me thinking that maybe I am just fine - I guess to view yourself through the eyes of an almost three year old, I might be more than just fine. I am her lifeline, the closest person to her, her playmate, her disciplinarian, her ultimate caregiver, the kisser of boo-boo's, the driver to preschool, the snack provider, and probably another million things that I simply don't have the brain-power to produce at this given moment. I remember a time in my life in which I would have traded the firmer, not-as-saggy version of myself for the life I live now - I wanted desperately to be a stay-at-home mommy but instead I found myself in the throes of a divorce at the ripe age of 27. At a time when everyone else was either getting married or having their first baby, I was starting over. This thought jolted me into my reality now as I realize I DO have all that I wished for back then and no, I would not trade it for the much-perkier chest that I had back then. So I guess you could say I AM just fine. Of course, leave it to a three year old to have to point that out to me.

The Fish Egg

It sometimes amazes me when I reflect on the various tasks I am called upon to do in a typical day at the home of Missy Moo and Bubba Boo. For instance, Missy Moo found a very small bead on the floor today that the sweeper failed to retrieve after she snuck one of my elaticized bracelets out of my drawer this past weekend and decided to experiment on how far it could stretch. "Look, Mommy! It's a fishy egg!" she excitedly shrieked and went on to explain that this MUST be Nemo's egg as it was the only egg left after the mean fish came and took Coral and the rest of the fish away (if you can figure out the movie then you too probably have a children at home). She then proceeded to make every attempt to carry this bead that is about the size of a chocolate chip around the house and of course, lost it about every 2.5 seconds. As I was lying on the kitchen floor face-down trying to peer under the stove and reach under that impossibly tiny crack that seperates the stove from the floor to retrieve the "fishy egg", it dawned on me that absolutely no one on this planet would ever predict what I was doing at that given moment. Upon further reflection, it occurred to me that there were many times throughout my days as a mommy that this could be true as well and I certainly suspect that other mommies have some unusual stories to tell as well. However, I must also admit that this is exactly how I want Missy Moo to think - she is creative to an extreme and can see things in everyday objects that we as adults would never see. Admit it - when was the last time you looked at a bead and said, "That is Nemo's fish egg"? This then made me start to wonder at what point do we get evicted from this innocent fantasy land that so many children reside in thus allowing them to see things that adults simply cannot? What else do they see during the day that they don't even vocalize or maybe they do but we are so practical and cerebral that we just think they are babbling about nonsense? I quickly caught myself and offered Missy Moo a snack ziploc bag for her fish egg, which is where it is now waiting until it is time to hatch. She is also sleeping with it as we speak and while the serious adult in me is a little worried about this the child development side of me is telling me that this is all good. She is "thinking outside the box" because for her, there simply isn't a box. I plan to encourage this unlimited thinking for as long as she will allow and even when she doesn't, I will push on. Though I will silently hope that she never loses this way of viewing the world, I fear the reality is that she probably will as she grows older each year. Meanwhile, I will continue to be Cheer Bear and Princess Aurora, I will take care of fish eggs and risk my life to find them, and I will be Bella Dancerella whenever I am called upon to do so. After all, it is through my child's eyes that I am able to see the world that I learned about through life experiences and it is fun. Very fun...So fun that I might stay in this fantasy land for a while because, quite truthfully, it is a whole lot more exciting.

The Green Chair

As cliche as it sounds, love truly knows no boundaries and can be felt for things that are not even living as I recently came to terms with while rocking Bubba Boo the other night. There is a sage green glider rocking chair that is currently residing in Bubba Boo's room that used to take up with Missy Moo while she was still a little peep. Once we moved to the new house, Missy Moo took the distressed white antique rocker while Bubba Boo scored and got the comfortable green glider with the matching ottoman. Luckily, this went unnoticed by the sassy elder which is quite a feat in itself considering that she recently has taken to getting angry when Bubba Boo simply looks at her let alone touches something that belongs to her...Since Bubba Boo is now on his fifth ear infection for the season (he has impossibly tiny ear canals and yes, he will be getting tubes most certainly), I was spending some time quietly rocking him so he would calm down and maybe allow us all to get some sleep. I began to think of all I had experienced in this chair - this was where I rocked my first baby, nervous, scared, and filled with the apprehension that I could not possibly take care of this little being and how in God's name did the hospital personnel allow her to leave with me? I remember thinking that I could actually die if I did not get some sleep while Missy Moo threw several of her colic fits during those first few months home. I remember wishing I had one of those "U" shaped pillows they sell in airports so I could sleep in the chair while I rocked both babies. I remember reading Missy Moo her first few books that hooked her so much that "reading her stories" is one of her most favorite things to do today. I remember rocking Missy Moo as she cried from a broken heart when we lost "old bunny" and thought he would never be seen again (he showed up later - thank God). I remember holding Missy Moo while I was pregnant with Bubba Boo and marveled at the incredibility of him kicking while she rested on my tummy - one inside, one out. I remember comforting the same colicky baby in a male form two years later that was just not ready to be born yet and wanted to go back to the womb. I remember sitting in that chair and, after talking with my hubby, handing over to God the mystery of whether or not we would have a third baby. If that chair could talk, I am certain it would say, "For the love of God, I am TIRED!!!" but yet it is always there and instantly calms anyone down who chooses to sit in it for just one moment. We purchased the green chair off the floor - it was the last of its style and had some smudge marks on the ottoman, so we bargained a discount and took it home the day we ordered Missy Moo's crib and dresser. Being first time parents, we excitedly threw it in our SUV and promptly set it up in the corner of Missy Moo's bedroom to patiently wait for its little friend to arrive. I loved passing by that room and seeing it sitting there just waiting for mommy and child to plunk down and chill during a long, sleepless night. It filled me with anticipation and longing to meet my little peanut that was so close to me yet still such a stranger. So I guess what I am coming to realize is that I love that chair, darn it. I will never be able to rid of it and can see me sitting in that glider when I am living in a retirement home waiting for each of my babies to come and take me to lunch. Oh, and God's answer to the third baby dilemma? He or she is coming in July...