Today First Son's preschool invited parents to come in and talk to the class about their jobs. They stressed that it should be jobs that deal with people, in fact the class calendar titled today: "Community Helpers". This is why Hubby did not go in and talk to the kids about designing military airplanes and the tons of bureaucratic bullshit that go with it, it doesn't really fall neatly into the "community helper" category. No, they were looking for Doctors and Nurses, Policeman and Fireman, Trash Collectors and Postmen.
(Oh, who are the people in your neighborhood? In your neighborhood? In your neighborhood? Say, who are the people in your neighborhood? The people that you meet each day!)
Well, when First Son got into the car today and we were chatting about who came to his class today ( a nurse, and a construction worker) he said "Mom, I thought you were gonna come and talk about Winnie's". Hmm. I didn't give a second thought to talking about the 1 day a week that I pour coffee and sling eggs, I mean sure, a waitress is "in your neighborhood", but you know what? I don't identify myself as a waitress. I told first son, "sorry, maybe next time" ( he was just hoping I would have brought in grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone since the nurse brought in tiny baby diapers and construction worker dad gave everyone hard hats) But then I got to thinking about my "real job". I know that I have the most important job ever, being a full time, stay at home Mom. I also believe that the job I hold gets nowhere near the amount of respect it deserves, but what did I do about it? Absolutely nothing! I totally could have gone into that class and talked about my job! I could have done it in a way that would have had those 4 year olds really thinking! I could have been a trailblazer, demanding respect and dignity. I could have had no less than 23 other moms falling at my feet, thanking me. But what did I do? Oh I could kick myself!
I told First son that I didn't come talk about being a waitress because that isn't my real job, my real job is being a Mom. And he said - " Oh yeah, you're just a Mom." Boy do I have some work to do!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
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Friday, May 25, 2007
Nice People Rock!
We've all seen and chuckled at those bumper stickers, t-shirts, magnets, etc. that say "Mean People Suck". Well, they do. Nice people on the other hand just don't get enough press. I would like to do my part to correct that.
I'll call her Aunt Dolores (I am running low on code name creative juice this week). She is MIL's aunt actually, but she's not much older than MIL is, so she and MIL are close. She lives half way across the country in the middle of the desert, and though we have met once, and we do send Christmas cards and birth announcements, Aunt Dolores and I are at best family acquaintances. Well, Aunt Dolores is a new fan of my blog (see, she's not just nice, but smart too!), and I guess that after reading my slightly somber Mother's Day post (I didn't really think it was that dark, but then, I live here inside my head so what do I know) she took it upon herself to cheer me up! Out of the blue I came home the other day and there was a box sitting on my stoop (isn't it so exciting to get a package??). It was a beautiful basket full of cookies and tea, and a beautiful new teapot! Does Aunt Dolores know of my fondness for tea? Does she know that my love of all things tea is a subtle way I have of clinging to my mother? (who was giving me cups of tea as young as four)
Aunt Dolores was just being nice, and it worked! I am definitely cheered. It is so good to know that there are people out there who are concerned about other people, and who will go out of their own way to put a smile on someone's face. Thank you Aunt Dolores for being one of those people. Thank you so much for caring about me!
Now then, you don't all have to go send someone a basket of tea, but you could be inspired to go out into the world today and be nice, what do you think? Give it a try!
I'll call her Aunt Dolores (I am running low on code name creative juice this week). She is MIL's aunt actually, but she's not much older than MIL is, so she and MIL are close. She lives half way across the country in the middle of the desert, and though we have met once, and we do send Christmas cards and birth announcements, Aunt Dolores and I are at best family acquaintances. Well, Aunt Dolores is a new fan of my blog (see, she's not just nice, but smart too!), and I guess that after reading my slightly somber Mother's Day post (I didn't really think it was that dark, but then, I live here inside my head so what do I know) she took it upon herself to cheer me up! Out of the blue I came home the other day and there was a box sitting on my stoop (isn't it so exciting to get a package??). It was a beautiful basket full of cookies and tea, and a beautiful new teapot! Does Aunt Dolores know of my fondness for tea? Does she know that my love of all things tea is a subtle way I have of clinging to my mother? (who was giving me cups of tea as young as four)
Aunt Dolores was just being nice, and it worked! I am definitely cheered. It is so good to know that there are people out there who are concerned about other people, and who will go out of their own way to put a smile on someone's face. Thank you Aunt Dolores for being one of those people. Thank you so much for caring about me!
Now then, you don't all have to go send someone a basket of tea, but you could be inspired to go out into the world today and be nice, what do you think? Give it a try!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Who's Your Daddy?
Ask Curly this Question:"What's Mommy's Name?"
her answer: "Patricia"
then ask her:
"What's Daddy's Name?"
her answer: "Honey"
Monday, May 21, 2007
They Bounce!
Scary, scary day today. My sweet, sweet, wonderful Paddy Boy...fell off the kitchen counter and onto his head. I saw his whole life (all 5 months of it) flash before me. I honestly don't think I have ever been so frightened in my life, and I am officially giving up laundry duties.
Here's how it went down: I sat him in his car seat, on the kitchen counter with a floppy book while I set about fixing his bottle for lunch. The two sibling cherubs were going back and forth between eating their lunch and playing house with it. Paddy sat quite contentedly in his seat, perched atop my kitchen "peninsula". I decided to seize this moment of relative calm to grab the laundry from the dryer and bring it upstairs. Frick and Frack followed me upstairs, and I promptly told them to go finish their lunch, and to talk to their brother who I could hear fussing a bit (not crying, just fussing, probably because he was left alone). I folded a few pieces of laundry, when I heard a loud crash, followed by hysterical crying from three sets of lungs. I flew down the stairs (I quite honestly have no recollection of my feet hitting the steps), found the two oldest sitting on the living room chaise, each as white as a ghost, sobbing and screeching inconsolably. I ran into the kitchen to find Paddy lying on his back, on the floor, crying! The car seat was also on the floor, a few feet away. My heart was in my throat. I scooped Paddy up and gave him a once over, he didn't seem hurt, but he was crying quite a bit. I went into the living room, tried to reassure the other two that they were NOT in trouble, but that I had to know what happened. Through sobs and tears I figured out that Curly was trying to talk to him and calm him down, as I asked her to do, and she leaned on the edge of the car seat, which tipped.
Immediately I called the pediatrician's office, although I was lucky I could remember my own name, much less their phone number. I was shook! Luckily they told me to come right in (I was afraid they would say to go to the ER, or worse, call an ambulance). Paddy boy calmed down pretty easily, but poor Curly was distraught. She had run up to her bed and was sobbing into her pillow. My poor girl. I took Paddy with me to show her that he was OK, that she was not in trouble, that we would just take him to the Dr. so we could make extra sure.
The Dr. looked him over and said he seems fine. Thank God. She did say to watch him closely for any changes. Then she told me to of course, be more careful next time, but to be kind to myself, all babies fall at one time or another, but they bounce! Of course this happens the day before hubby is set to go out of town on business, because all drama in my life revolves around hubby's business travel.
Later on when we were safely home I asked the kids to reenact the scene using Curly's doll and doll carrier. It turns out, that Curly really saved the day! She tipped the car seat, but rather than letting her baby brother fall, she grabbed him and held him as best she could letting him drop to the floor from her arms (a much shorter drop than from the counter). She is a good sister. She realizes now that Paddy boy is OK, and she is feeling much better about it herself.
I keep reliving those scary moments when I heard the crash, and ran into the kitchen. The pictures that went through my mind were scary, much scarier than the reality. The scariest thing though is that they could have been the reality. Paddy could have been really seriously hurt. I can see myself having nightmares about this for a while. Needless to say, he will not be sitting on any counter tops again anytime soon.
My blood pressure today? High.
Forecast for tonight: sleepless
General attitude: Gratitude!
Any votes for MOTY??
Here's how it went down: I sat him in his car seat, on the kitchen counter with a floppy book while I set about fixing his bottle for lunch. The two sibling cherubs were going back and forth between eating their lunch and playing house with it. Paddy sat quite contentedly in his seat, perched atop my kitchen "peninsula". I decided to seize this moment of relative calm to grab the laundry from the dryer and bring it upstairs. Frick and Frack followed me upstairs, and I promptly told them to go finish their lunch, and to talk to their brother who I could hear fussing a bit (not crying, just fussing, probably because he was left alone). I folded a few pieces of laundry, when I heard a loud crash, followed by hysterical crying from three sets of lungs. I flew down the stairs (I quite honestly have no recollection of my feet hitting the steps), found the two oldest sitting on the living room chaise, each as white as a ghost, sobbing and screeching inconsolably. I ran into the kitchen to find Paddy lying on his back, on the floor, crying! The car seat was also on the floor, a few feet away. My heart was in my throat. I scooped Paddy up and gave him a once over, he didn't seem hurt, but he was crying quite a bit. I went into the living room, tried to reassure the other two that they were NOT in trouble, but that I had to know what happened. Through sobs and tears I figured out that Curly was trying to talk to him and calm him down, as I asked her to do, and she leaned on the edge of the car seat, which tipped.
Immediately I called the pediatrician's office, although I was lucky I could remember my own name, much less their phone number. I was shook! Luckily they told me to come right in (I was afraid they would say to go to the ER, or worse, call an ambulance). Paddy boy calmed down pretty easily, but poor Curly was distraught. She had run up to her bed and was sobbing into her pillow. My poor girl. I took Paddy with me to show her that he was OK, that she was not in trouble, that we would just take him to the Dr. so we could make extra sure.
The Dr. looked him over and said he seems fine. Thank God. She did say to watch him closely for any changes. Then she told me to of course, be more careful next time, but to be kind to myself, all babies fall at one time or another, but they bounce! Of course this happens the day before hubby is set to go out of town on business, because all drama in my life revolves around hubby's business travel.
Later on when we were safely home I asked the kids to reenact the scene using Curly's doll and doll carrier. It turns out, that Curly really saved the day! She tipped the car seat, but rather than letting her baby brother fall, she grabbed him and held him as best she could letting him drop to the floor from her arms (a much shorter drop than from the counter). She is a good sister. She realizes now that Paddy boy is OK, and she is feeling much better about it herself.
I keep reliving those scary moments when I heard the crash, and ran into the kitchen. The pictures that went through my mind were scary, much scarier than the reality. The scariest thing though is that they could have been the reality. Paddy could have been really seriously hurt. I can see myself having nightmares about this for a while. Needless to say, he will not be sitting on any counter tops again anytime soon.
My blood pressure today? High.
Forecast for tonight: sleepless
General attitude: Gratitude!
Any votes for MOTY??
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Mother's Day
Mother's Day has never been one of my favorite holidays. I belong to a club, a secret society - the "motherless daughters". My Mom died when I was six years old. When I was younger, in school and Girl Scouts and such (yes, I was a Girl Scout, and a pretty good one at that, if you don't count the fact that my badges were stapled to my sash) there was the inevitable "Mother's Day project" that would come up, planting seeds, or making potholders and such. Always I would have to make my project for "someone special", and even though there are several really great women in my life, none of them could ever fill the void of my missing mother. And so, every Mother's Day became for me a reminder of what I didn't have.Now, I have been blessed in the most incredible way. I am a mother. I have three amazing children and one angel in heaven. Mother's Day should be a reminder to me of what I do have. I love my family, and I thank God for them every day, but, Mother's Day makes me anxious. If I could, I'd rather just skip it. My kids tell me they love me every day. My husband does too, and he also tells me that I am a great Mom. I don't think my children or my husband for that matter, need a calendar to remind them to appreciate me. I hope they never will. Still, Mother's Day comes, and society makes a big deal about it (cha-ching) and so I go along.
This week I went to a special "Mother's Day Tea" with First Son at his school. I was really excited about it, because he was so excited. For days beforehand he would tell me " x more days till Mother's Day" and then when the day finally came he awoke early and jumped in bed with me saying "Mommy, today is Mother's Day, you get to come to my school!" His enthusiasm was absolutely contagious. The kids were very cute, they loved showing off their classrooms, and demonstrating their daily routine to the Moms (pledge of allegiance, reading the calendar, singing songs). I came home with a mystery plant that First Son cultivated from seed (I hope I don't kill it), and a place mat with fingerprint flowers, and a lovely Mother's Day poem which, even though it was copied en masse on a Xerox machine and glued onto every Mom's flower picture, made me a bit weepy. It was a lovely preschool afternoon, and I am grateful to First Son's very creative teachers for putting it together. In a certain way I guess life comes full circle, as those "Mother's Day projects" are back, but with a whole new meaning for me now.
With my family, I "celebrated" Mother's Day a day early as I am working tomorrow. Hubby asked me what I wanted to do, and when I thought about it, I decided that what I really wanted to do was to spend some quality time with the 3 cherubs. I have been so busy and task oriented lately, that I realized I really just wanted to play with my kids. So, we packed up and headed to the Ocean. We played and played, we made sand castles, and a Mickey Mouse face in the sand, we played Frisbee, and we waded in the freezing cold Atlantic. We had a blast. I took a ton of pictures. I sat in my beach chair, holding my baby, listening to the ocean waves and the sound of children's laughter. My children's laughter. It was a great day.
As much as I might want to avoid the whole Mother's Day thing, I can't do it. It's everywhere, so I do my best to swallow my already repressed emotions and get through it with a smile. I try, but deep down I have a muti-layered sense of melancholy. I think about the other members of this atrocious club I belong to - my 2 sisters, my good friends Jeannine & Patty, and Florian, and DD. I think about all the little boys and girls who struggled with their "Mother's Day Project" this year, especially little Cassidy, my husband's cousin's daughter who lost her Mom this year, and only just turned five. In a perfect world we should all appreciate and celebrate our moms each and every day, and even in a special way, as we see fit, not because the calendar or some card store or plant sale tells us it is that day of the year. Alas, we don't live in a perfect world, and Mother's Day comes each May. I have many more "Mother's Day projects" to look forward to, and I will treasure all of them, as I do each of my beautiful children. I will cherish every precious memory of my own dear mother, and I will think about and pray for everybody who makes his or her "Mother's Day project" for "Someone Special". I will also remember and pray for those mothers, whose arms are empty on Mother's Day and every other day, even though their hearts are full.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
A liesurely day of shopping
I went shopping today at one of my favorite haunts, Old Navy. I needed some spring t-shirts for myself, and I had the three cherubs in tow. My shopping excursion was mostly successful in that my wardrobe now has a few cotton t's that don't have stains on them (at least not yet), and a cute little denim skirt, but it was a battle. The scene went something like this:
Me: Pick that ball up, and don't let it drop again.
Me: That's it, give me the ball.
Them: Noooo!
Me: I am not going to tell you again.
Me: One more time and I am taking the ball.
Me: Curly!
Me: First Son!
Me: Pick up the ball.
Me: Tell me that you did NOT just throw it!
First Son: But, Mom
Me: That's it!
Them: Nooo!
Me: Come here!
Curly runs away
Me: I am not chasing you!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: Now that's it! The ball is mine, when you show me that you can behave you can have the ball back.
Me: First son, should I take your ball too?
Me: Where is she?
Me: come here.
Me: Curly!
Me:Where is she?
Me: Now where'd she go?
Me: Curly!
Me: Where is she?
Me: oh, good stay there
Me: no, Paddy can not hold your ball.
Me: Curly!
Me: Where is she?
Me: OK, let's go!
Me: Come on, walk!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: Here is your ball, now don't let it go.
Me: have you lost your mind?
Me: Where is she?
Me: Get out from there.
First Son: Mom, watch, I 'm going in there now
Me: No, you're not!
Me: Come here!
Me: Enough!
Me: This way, let's go!
Me: First Son, get down off of there!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: When I tell you to come you need to come right away.
Me: First son!
Me: oy vey!
Me: Honestly First son, should I have to even ask you to get down off of things in the store?
Me: Curly!
Me: Please stop.
Me: Come on guys, we're almost done.
Me: Please.
Me: stop hanging on that, what if it falls?
Me: Curly Patricia!
At this point the lady in line in back of me says - "Wow, you have such cute kids. They listen so good too!" Lady, are we even in the same store?
Methinks next time I won't let them "hold" a ball while we shop. Ya think?? Either that or leave them locked in the car, maybe.
Me: Pick that ball up, and don't let it drop again.
Me: That's it, give me the ball.
Them: Noooo!
Me: I am not going to tell you again.
Me: One more time and I am taking the ball.
Me: Curly!
Me: First Son!
Me: Pick up the ball.
Me: Tell me that you did NOT just throw it!
First Son: But, Mom
Me: That's it!
Them: Nooo!
Me: Come here!
Curly runs away
Me: I am not chasing you!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: Now that's it! The ball is mine, when you show me that you can behave you can have the ball back.
Me: First son, should I take your ball too?
Me: Where is she?
Me: come here.
Me: Curly!
Me:Where is she?
Me: Now where'd she go?
Me: Curly!
Me: Where is she?
Me: oh, good stay there
Me: no, Paddy can not hold your ball.
Me: Curly!
Me: Where is she?
Me: OK, let's go!
Me: Come on, walk!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: Here is your ball, now don't let it go.
Me: have you lost your mind?
Me: Where is she?
Me: Get out from there.
First Son: Mom, watch, I 'm going in there now
Me: No, you're not!
Me: Come here!
Me: Enough!
Me: This way, let's go!
Me: First Son, get down off of there!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly!
Me: Curly Patricia!
Me: When I tell you to come you need to come right away.
Me: First son!
Me: oy vey!
Me: Honestly First son, should I have to even ask you to get down off of things in the store?
Me: Curly!
Me: Please stop.
Me: Come on guys, we're almost done.
Me: Please.
Me: stop hanging on that, what if it falls?
Me: Curly Patricia!
At this point the lady in line in back of me says - "Wow, you have such cute kids. They listen so good too!" Lady, are we even in the same store?
Methinks next time I won't let them "hold" a ball while we shop. Ya think?? Either that or leave them locked in the car, maybe.
Monday, May 7, 2007
My shnuggle bug
So, it's been a long weekend bookended by parties at our house. Last night came and we were all pretty tired. Paddy boy and Curly were the first ones down, so First son and I spent the most delicious time together shnuggling in bed. As I laid on my pillow he laid on hubby's (hubby was off catching up on the science channel) we discussed the events of the weekend, our favorite parts of the parties, the best toys that Curly got. Whenever the conversation lulled, First son said eagerly "what do you want to talk about now, Mommy?" He was really hungering for this one on one time with me, and I was basking in it myself. After a while of talking, I shut the lights and told him that we needed to get some sleep. As I turned on my side to go to sleep, he threw his arm over my shoulder and said in the yummiest little voice "my sweetheart!". Me, his Mommy, his sweetheart! And, He is mine, all mine, my little shnuggle bug.
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Happy Birthday Princess!
My Dear, Sweet Curly Girl,
Happy Birthday to you. Three years old today. It goes so fast. I remember it like yesterday when the doctors pulled you from my tummy and said "it's a girl". In the days that followed your birth I replayed that moment over and over in an attempt to wash away my disbelief. How could it be that God had given me a baby girl? Oh I wanted you for so long. How could I possibly be blessed enough to be given that which I had always wanted? And now here you are, three years old, and you are wonderful! You are so beautiful. You are sweet, and kind, and above all, spunky. You make every day an adventure, I never know what I am going to get with you. Sometimes, I swear, this is not your first time around because you are wise way beyond your years. I look at you today and I imagine you tomorrow. Your future is so full of hope and promise. You can truly be anything you want to be, even now, nobody can tell you "No" and get away with it. You do things on your own terms always, which I admit is a bit much for a three year old, but I try to look beyond that to the amazing woman you will grow into. Some people say that you are just like me, but my sweet Curly girl, you are, at just three years old, already so much more than I can ever hope to be. I love you with all my heart and soul. You are my sweet, sweet little girl, and I am your sweet, sweet big Mommy. I love you. Happy Birthday.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
My belly was Soooo fat!
Curly is going to be three in three days time. I can't hardly believe it. Every day this week we talk about three years ago today my belly was "sooo fat", and Curly chimes in..."cause I was in your belly!" You know what's scary? Only 10 years till she's thirteen! Heaven help us.
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