Sibling Discord

"Ow. Quit it. Ow. Quit it. Ow. Quit it." Bart Simpson to his sisters poking his sore arm.  The Simpsons Episode 1: Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire

Seriously?  When my children are interacting like the Simpsons we have gone completely off the rails.  I am so used to my kids getting along most of the time.  Not a lot of screaming, playing nicely and quietly together.  They have been fighting for weeks and we are now only three weeks away from Summer break.   I'm scared.

problem #1
The girl and her girl shrieking (making my ears bleed).  I very well may go crazy if I hear my articulate 2.5 year old shriek at her brothers again.  USE YOUR WORDS!  BETTER YET, USE YOUR SENTENCES!  Also, try napping.  It works for every other toddler on the block.  The nap is your friend.

problem #2
control
Patrick needs to be the boss.  Keith needs to be the boss.  Lauren needs to be the boss.  Notice a theme here?


problem #3
I'll have what he/she's having.....  My children are capable of fighting over one dumb toy that they have successfully ignored for months.  Today its my old cell phone (like old old old older than they are old).  Keith wants to hoard it in his pile of things, Lauren wants to make phone calls.  There will be blood.

They get alone fine when they are glued to the TV.  So the TV is dark until they figure this out.

Now that's more like it!....  This lasted about 15 minutes before the fighting restarted and the little kids were sent to their rooms.  If we can break through this wall of bickering we can take on anything. 

Moments of brilliance

Strike that.... One moment of brilliance.  Singular.  We will see what today holds.

What should a mom with a sinus headache, an un-napped toddler, and a mischievous 6 year do while waiting for her eldest son to expand his artistic horizons?  GO TO THE MALL OF COURSE!  duh. 

Seriously, I started out thinking that it was the worst idea to try and cram shopping in with my littles in tow.  I almost turned around and walked back to the car.  But we rallied and actually had a good time.  Cookies and new sunglasses make everything better in Keith's world. 

Keith says I'm an awesome mom.  I couldn't understand Lauren because she was shoving a huge $2 (what?) cookie in her mouth.  COOKIES for EVERYONE (except Patrick because he is really the only one who is ever quiet and well-behaved.).

File it under "B" for "Bad Mommy"

Yesterday I lost Patrick.  For 3.35 horrifying minutes, I didn't know where my kid was.  I was 22 seconds away from calling Fresno PD and 8 seconds away from sheer and utter terror.

He was a few seconds closer to terror than I was because he couldn't find me where he thought I should be.  A simple miscommunication about pick-up had us on opposite sides of the building after art class.  He was a few seconds closer to sheer and utter terror and cried almost the entire way home.  He lost his mom.

Patrick spends most of his time with his face two inches away from a sketch pad or a thick novel.  He tends to miss things because he is in his own world.  But he has always been the kind of kid who stayed close, tethered to me by an invisible cord that only reaches so far (I know, the cord right?).  He's never been lost before.  Not like my Keith or my brother Robby who have both been lost in WalMart with the same panicky reaction.

three short minutes.   I became the worst-case scenario mom for three heart-wrenching minutes (kidnapped, he was kidnapped).   I totally could have strangled and hugged him when his little face came through the crowd toward us.  I just hugged him instead. 

He knew the safety procedures (kick, scream, yell), he was headed back to his class to a safe person, his teacher.  He remembered my cell phone number. 

It was just a misunderstanding.... Let's not do that again.

The rhythm of relationships

Keith and I have had a rough few weeks.  I'm struggling, he's struggling and yesterday it all blew up.   This morning as he quizzed me about what he could touch (i.e. play with and the answer was pretty much NOTHING), I realized that this is our tail end.  Suddenly we are closer to the end of kindergarten.  Our morning struggles and afternoon battles and lunchtime war of the wills are all going to come to an end.  The rhythm of our relationship is going to change.  I am relieved and scared to death.  I fear that I haven't done enough and I'm just not ready.  But I know he needs to be in school all day.  It is a structured place where he really does thrive.  I'm his crutch and his safe place.  He pushes and I pull.  We butt heads and we love each other.  That's the rhythm of our relationship. 

These two have their own rhythm.  Where he goes she goes.  He dotes on her, she squawks at him.  And they argue like this at least once every hour:
Keith: yes.
Lauren: no.
Keith: yes.
Lauren: no.
Keith: yes.
Lauren: no.
Keith: yes.
Lauren: no.
Keith: YES
Lauren: yes (jedi mind trick)

 Mommy sigh.

A glimpse at my life.

Lauren, Robert, Missy: Couch Pals

 Let me tell you about my Mondays.  First, Mondays happen to Kevin's only "day off."  By "day off" I mean he gets home from a night shift, sleeps for a few hours and wakes up to help me out.  Because I need help, a lot of help.

When Sunday rolls around, I devote a ton of energy to getting ready for the week and preparing for the craziness that Monday always brings.  Some Mondays try to be even crazier, this was one of those Mondays.
Here's what was happening on Monday.... Wake up in the middle of the night to a sick toddler.  Bring her in, settle her down.  Wake up early and say good morning to my laptop.  Prepare for class, post discussions, respond to students.  Toddler pukes in my bed.  Get boys up and moving, deliver Patrick to school.  Shower and dress for the day, change sheets. Grandpa arrives to sit with the littles.  Back to school, decorate for the assembly.  Back home, reschedule Grandpa's evening babysitting time to accommodate Judo instead of PT, feed kids, get Keith ready for school, deliver Keith to school.  Back home, put Lauren down for her nap, shovel food into mouth, wake Kevin.  Back to school, work in K-1, hang out for the assembly. 

Bell rings, take boys home.  Homework time (Keith gets sent outside to run around, Kevin takes him out, runs him around the block and plays Nerf wars.  That's a nice way of saying that we had a hard time.  Glad Daddy is home.). Scramble to make (finish dinner, I made it the day before) dinner and clean kitchen.  Put dinner on the table, call the boys in from outside , get ready for Junior League remind self to brushteethgetpowerpointgrabnamebadgeandlipglossgivekevincheckbookforjudo. 

Forget most of the things on the reminder list and head to Junior League General Session.  Do the things I need to do at the General Session (including two voting motions) and cut out early.  Back home, sick Lauren is on the couch with Grandpa (Hi Mama!) because she convinced "Robert" to get her out of bed.  Pack up Grandpa and tell him goodnight, put Lauren back to bed (as only Mama can), including lots of required conversation with her friends in her crib.  Pick up the house, shower, change and wait for Kevin and the boys to get home from Judo at 9:00 pm.

Then there are other days when not a lot happens and I let my guard down.  That day is called Tuesday and last Tuesday during homework this happened...... 

Lauren is taking out a patent for the lipstick/eyeliner/blush/mascara/eyeshadow all-in-one.  That's the long-lasting formula.

Helicopter Parent

When I was getting ready to go to college, my mom and I attended a new student orientation thing at UC Davis.  I think we stayed overnight in separate dorms.  I was 18, she was 46.  I played it cool, she was like a giddy school girl.  I don't remember a lot of the details about the trip.  I do remember that my mother could not stop talking about it.  She had my academic trajectory planned, she raved about the dorm food, and she made lots of friends. 

I'm not telling you this story because I was raised by a helicopter mother.  In fact, my parents gave us plenty of rope and responsibility.  We were raised to be independent but there was always support and cheers when we needed it.  I owe my life's successes to my parents.  I tell you this story because it makes me laugh that anyone acts like this with their kids ALL THE TIME!  And then I stop laughing and worry that this whole over-parenting thing is a wickedly deceptive pass-time.  Over-parent?  ME?  You mean over-love, there's never too much love!

Kevin and I laugh about the freedom we had as kids.   We both rode bikes all around our neighborhoods, Kevin even rode around town!  We don't let our kids play out front without us.  And there were child abductions and stranger danger in the 80's so that's not it.  Our perspective is just different.

But it goes beyond safety.  We want our kids to be successful.  Right?  So we seek out ways to make their little futures successful.  And along comes our worry and fear.  I worry that Keith doesn't know how to hold a pencil or draw a person.  I worry that Lauren is going to punch someone.  I worry that Patrick will bomb a math test.  I worry when they tell me they don't have friends.  I worry when they tell me who their friends are.  I worry that they will fail and let's just say it.... I FAIL.  Mama does not want to fail.

I take it personally.  I really do.  I don't want to fail so why not help, encourage, and maybe just do it for them.  STOP!  I am telling you right now.  You have to stop.  Stop and I will tell you another UC Davis story.

I thought I wanted to be a psychologist until I flunked (Royally Flunked, F- hide your paper in your backpack flunked) my first Intro. to Psych test.  I was pissed.  I didn't go to the professor and complain about her teaching style or the tricky questions.  I certainly didn't ask my parents to call the Department Head and get him to let me take the test again.  I sat my happy butt in my desk chair and studied like I had never studied before.  I didn't get an A in the class, I got a B+ and slid on over to my safety major: Political Science.  failure is part of life, your response to failure is the definition of your life.

The skills that we can learn from struggling with what ever life throws at us equips us for success.  The lessons that we learn from making mistakes help us figure out what to do with our opportunities.  The personal accountability that we take is the first step to maturing and soaring. 

Helicopter parents are known because they are at school all of the time.  Like a true helicopter parent, I'm at school a lot and the other day I had to shut down my engines.  I want you to understand what a fight it is to be a better parent.  Patrick was invited to be a part of the Human Relations committee at school.  We talked with him about it a lot, specifically praising the fact that he is a leader.  We even  had him write the date of the meeting down in his planner.  The day of the meeting came and I forgot to remind him (I know.....).  He missed the meeting.  FAIL!  Here was my temptation, call and/or email the principal and explain the situation and blah blah blah.  Here's what we did: we told him to march his happy butt up to the principal and do the explaining on his own.  AND if he couldn't find her, he needed to march his happy butt into her office.  You have to understand that for my child, this is HUGE!  And guess what?  He remembered and he did it!  I was near tears.  You have to teach your kids to accept accountability and admit mistakes AND give them the confidence to speak on their own behalf.  This is my biggest challenge with Patrick, I talk for him all the time (working on it though).  So it gets better.  The next meeting, I happened to be on campus and I fought my helicopter hard.  I wanted to walk over and just take a look to make sure that he made it to the meeting.  I was walking off campus with my friend and actually turned around and walked back in the direction of the cafeteria before I stopped myself (I'm sure I looked like a crazy person with helicopter mommy and free range mommy pulling me in two different directions).  He did make it to the meeting.  I just had to wait until afterschool to find out.

This week was a tough week for my boys.  Without going into too much detail I truly hurt for them this week, socially and academically.  I have had a pit in my stomach because they failed, made mistakes, and stumbled.  And quite frankly, people have failed them.  While you are in the midst of it, reflection is difficult.  I just want it to be better.   I want them on the happy side of the fine line.  But they can't be protected from everything nor should they.  So, I am not in front of them clearing the path.  I am not hovering over them checking every last detail.  I am not carrying them so they never trip.  I am walking beside them, holding their hands when they need it, encouraging them to run ahead outside of my reach, letting them do for themselves, and praying a million prayers over their heads. 

On the status of my motherhood.

When I look back on this time in my life there are a lot of things I won't remember.  Details grow cold, memories are limited, and present day takes over.  Soon my babies won't be babies and I will forget how much work it is to get them in and out of the care (19 times in the Fresno heat).  I will forget what it is like to have to wipe bottoms and remind people which shoe goes on which foot.  I may even forget how to do all things while holding a small child on my hip.  But I won't forget the screen shot of this feeling.  It is both overwhelming and grand.  So overwhelming and grand that for the first time in years I sleep.  My children cured my insomnia.  I dream of every day mom things with a twist.  So ordinary and real that I sometimes can't distinguish between my dreams and reality.  I am living the dream.

Here's a little tidbit of the dream.  This time when my toddler unrolls 75% of a new toilet paper roll, this time is fleeting (and trumped by the time my toddler put all of her brothers Star Wars fighter pods in the toilet).

The good news is that I am finally catching on.  I wake up early.  I have a 30 minute lunch break.  I finally take all three kids out in public and run errands all day. I dress the part. I let them yell and scream and jump on their bed.  I plan and prepare.  I give them real responsibilities.  And I make time to love them.

Last week as I watched all three of my children riveted by the tortilla bowl infomercial another light bulb went off.  No more yelling, no more repeating myself.  If I want them to do something, I deliver it in my best infomercial Billy Mays voice.  And guess what?  It totally works.  And it is sort of hilarious.

Happy Mother's Day

One of my favorite verses in the Bible the story of Mary and Martha.   Although this verse has special significance for my life as a mom, it is applicable if you are a mom, a wannabe mom, or just a busy person.

Luke 10:38-42

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself ? Tell her to help me!" 41 "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

I will admit that I am often a Martha and I forget to even try to be a Mary.  My lists, my scurrying, my need to get it done and do it right drive me all day.  And I will admit that if Jesus in the flesh was coming for lunch, I would drive my family crazy with the preparations (I think we would have fresh salmon and homemade bread and squash from the garden and wine of course).

Sometimes, I stop and I take the time to focus on that "one thing."  Other times I work my tail off when the kids are sleeping and at school so that I can allow myself to take the time.  It is a struggle but I realize that the fight is one I create in my own head.

For me Mother's Day is less about me and more about my family.  The day makes me grateful for the life I have.  I love to live in this world we have created.  Now I just need to remember to enjoy it.

Crying it out.

I may have told you that Lauren is not the best at sleeping through the night.  We were doing really well before her birthday and now we have a forced co-sleeping arrangement. 

http://crappypictures.typepad.com

It's cute and great.  She likes to sleep on my neck.  So if I'm not laying on my back she pulls my hair and smacks me to get me to roll over.  She also likes to sleep horizontally in between us.  Usually this means kicking Kevin in the face.  Another favorite is burying her head in between the mattress and head board (fun.).  And did I mention that she refuses to have any blankets on her?  brr.

I know you think we are weak parents but the whole point of this post is to tell you that we aren't weak, she's just stronger.  Crying it out was the option for both boys.  Usually this had more to do with going to sleep, not staying asleep.  We've tried to let her cry it out.  We get vomit as our reward each time.  Lauren cries so seldom that when crying happens in her world it is worth throwing up.  Great.

So we go to bed a little bit earlier every night, hoping for more than an hour of sleep.  Sometimes we're lucky, other times not so much. 

When this passes (hopefully prior to her 15th birthday) I won't miss it.  I will sneak in her room and wonder at the sweetness of a child sleeping in her own bed.

Interesting Moments from Motherhood

Privacy (especially in the bathroom) is as fleeting as quiet while you are trying to talk on the phone.  Every mother knows this, it is a fact.  The bathroom becomes the family meeting place whenever Mom is in the loo.
So, it shouldn't be surprising that one of my children asked to sit on my lap while I was using the bathroom the other day. 

Seriously?  It isn't enough that you have to be in here with me?  Now you want to sit on my lap?  GET OUT!

Bad Mommy Chronicles v.2598

There is a running joke amongst our friends, all of whom have kids about the same age as ours.  The joke is that we rely heavily upon Patrick and his inclination towards taking care of, protecting and "mother henning (every noun deserves a shot at being a verb)" the kids.  He often shows the moms up by corralling the kids and making sure they are all going in the right direction.  Saturday night and you don't have a babysitter?  Call Patrick.  Need to run into the office and you don't want to wake up the sleeping toddler in the car?  Call Patrick.  Can't find the baby?  Call Patrick.

He really is a very caring boy and has a sort of golden retriever quality to him.  anyway.  My JLF friend Emily (love her) made some yummy zucchini bread for our provisional brunch and sent some home with me to share with the people in my house who happen to love baked goods for breakfast.  One morning I was serving it up to my eager carb lovers and Patrick starts to scream at me! "That has pecans!  He's allergic to pecans!"

After some confusion on my part and a bit of consternation on Patrick's part I finally figured it out.  There were walnuts in the bread.  Some more confusion from me and I eventually remembered that last Christmas we discovered that Keith has a mild allergy to pecans.  i forgot 

Survey says.... 47 people think Patrick is a better MOM than I am.

Tank tops and zucchini bread

Dear Mary Poppins,

Really?  Just a spoonful of sugar? Hmmm....I don't think so. My kids ain't buying what I'm selling these days.  If only a spoonful of sugar would help this situation. 
I've tried sugar, I've tried everything.  Today I sent them to bed at 6:35 pm. 

As a Mommy there are days that fly by (those usually include playdates, movies, and Dad) and you love life! Then there are days that fly by with a flurry of activity but you are left with the sense that all you accomplished was moving the messes from place to place and screaming at your children.  Today I didn't get to see any of my friends, my meager 28 minutes with my husband was the highlight, I went to the eye doctor with all three kids during dinnertime and I had papers to grade.  My boys got into a fight that could only be described as a girlie fight.  They didn't throw punches, instead they attempted to hurt their brother's feelings.  "You aren't my best buddy and I'm not playing with you" was caught in the repeat mode all day.  My kids don't bicker very often but sheesh!  Shut it already. 

This wasn't how I saw the end of summer.... ok, I don't know how I saw it but I'm pretty sure if I had thought about it, this isn't what I was thinking.  So here I am, papers graded, coffee consumed, guilt warmed up, husband asleep.....  All I have to offer you is a random sampling of this week.  Oh!  and a promise to update you on Miss Lauren in a couple of days!  Wait until you hear....  Anyway, in the meantime, check this out.

 Once upon a time I took a nap.  Not one but two annoying people knocked on the door and rang the bell.  Kevin was so irritated he put up a post-it note forbidding anyone from soliciting, ringing the bell or knocking on the door. 

 I took it to the next level. This awesome bit was compliments of AnythingbutPerfect.com 
I might try one of the other colors.  I don't think this one looks right with my door.  But I do love it.

 And then there's Keith.... Once upon a time, I made my kid run and he face planted in the grass.  Yep. Those are skid marks on his nose.  Forehead too.  Never mind the PB&J on his face.    He didn't cry at all.  Gotta love him.

And I didn't get a picture but Patrick started soccer!  He's the one with the red socks.

a peak at my morning

I will be completely honest with you.... Motherhood is hard!  Really, really hard.  I've had a few Mommy Dearest/Ms. Hannigan/Bad Mommy moments this week. 

But this morning we had some pretty awesome moments (unfortunately for you, I don't usually take pictures when my head is spinning around in the bad moments. or as my brother Benjamin used to call them "B.M.'s".).  So here is your glimpse at our awesome moments:

Patrick enjoying his morning paper (he went out to get it), Eggos and "coffee" (warm milk with a sprinkle of cinnamon)

Keith after dropping off Patrick at school.  The GIS to Patrick, "Is that your crazy brother?" So it begins.

LoLo on the move.  Ok, this is awesome and devastating.  Girlfriend is freakishly strong though.  just saying.

Mother's Day Gifts

Mother's Day is an interesting holiday.  I have come to appreciate my darling husband's attitude about Mother's Day: every day is Mother's Day.  In other words he doesn't wait until one day in May to tell me he appreciates me.  And for that, I am thankful.

This year, Mother's Day weekend happened to fall on the first weekend that Kevin went back to work.  This is the life we chose, no complaints.  We had a fabulous month of vacation together.  Point is, Kevin was working.  I went into the weekend with two hopes: 1) to enjoy the little bit of special time that we had together at the races (and it was special and fabulous: happy mother's day) and 2) God grant me the patience to enjoy my children instead of wanting to strangle them (ahem, you can't win them all).

As naughty as my boys were this weekend (both had precious toys taken away. both cried rivers.), I did get some special moments with them.  Kevin going back to work was a lot tougher than we realized.  Wow.  On Friday Keith snuck into bed with me.  On Saturday it was Patrick's turn.  So we got extra cuddles.  Nice gift.

We also had an extended conversation about my job.  According to Patrick my job includes: feeding Lauren, cleaning the house, doing laundry and telling them what to do.  Neither one thinks that I have a "real" job.  Patrick says that I used to but not anymore.  My kids' perspective: great gift.

I also got to close my eyes for a few minutes this afternoon.  I probably could have slept for an hour but a boy needed me.  A nap is an awesome gift.

To end our day, the boys and I screened Episode 3.  I love bonding with my boys over Star Wars. Jedi gift.

Now the house is quiet and I'm thinking about all of the Sunday chores that I have to do before I go to bed.  And such is life, good thing I love it.

Sleep Sleep Baby

I'm a bad mommy.  Lauren is in no shape or form Baby-Wise.....

Patrick was a horrible sleeper.  I hardly ever put him down, I was never away from him and he slept in our bed until he was 18 months.  He was still sneaking into our bed when he has 5!  Now he sleep walks (last time he grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter) and has to read a book to fall asleep.  He never learned how to self-soothe (no pacifier or anything, I was his pacifier). High maintenance.

Keith was seriously baby wise.  He slept in his own bed at six weeks.  Not only that, he slept through the night!  This wasn't "sleeping through the night" as in 4 hours, he slept for 9 hours and I would have to wake him up in the morning.  And he would take great naps.  (now we are learning that he has a ENT issue but more on that some other day). He learned how to self-soothe early and that was fantastic. Lovely baby.

Now we have Lauren.  You would think that I would have it figured out but I don't want to figure it out.  Neither of us is racing to get her to sleep in her crib.  She has no real set schedule.  She often naps for hours in her car seat.  She catnaps most days and then one day will take a three-hour nap (fat stores!).  She is our first pacifier baby and that has positives and negatives.  Bottom-line: she's pretty high maintenance.  So sometimes she falls asleep while she's nursing and I stay in one spot for extended periods. sigh.

So wrong, yet so right.

 When you're a mom, you're a mom all the way....  Look at this picture from Devre's wedding.....

 

Here, take a closer look.

   

What's wrong with this picture? 1) I forgot to put on half of my makeup! 2) Lauren is desperately crying out for help!

Three kids make getting ready for a wedding very interesting.  I would be tempted to categorize that as "not fun"

What's right with this picture?  I got time with my oldest and dearest friend (Haidee. We've been friends since we were six?!?!) at my soul sister's wedding...sigh.  When we were younger and my dad would take us out people always thought we were sisters.  biggest compliment for me.

Look at our first-borns....they could be brother and sister, no?

I'm so grateful that Kevin was there to help with kid management.  One day we will be able to take these little people out in public.  And Lo-Lo and I are both rocking the fur!  

Untitled

Working Title: The ellipsis
Welcome to my identity crisis.... dramatic much?


This week I sent an email to 70 colleagues.  I wrote to let them know that I was not returning to my job as Executive Director of the organization I founded five years ago.  I wrote to let them know that after decades of pouring my heart and soul into the youth of California, it is time for me to focus on the kids that God holds me accountable for. 

Done. Defeated.  Happy. Sad. Relieved.  Torn. I will be honest, when I am alone with my thoughts, sometimes it feels like a loss.

I used to rule the world.....

But more often, it feels like this....  BLINK





The email was the culmination of 20 months of struggling and praying and pouting and discussing and finally giving in.  God opened my eyes to my opportunity, my personal mission.  The opportunity to be the best wife and mother possible.  To have the chance to change the world for the better. 

I know that there are a lot of excellent mothers out there who work full-time.  In fact, I would argue that I was a pretty excellent mother.  But our lifestyle is different for a lot of reasons that I won't go into.  Frankly, I wanted something different.  This is me, the me that I never suspected I would be.... ever.  I don't know you, you have to figure out you.

and today.... today I am the happiest I have been in years.

In all honesty, my identity is shaken.  What clothes should I buy?  Who are my friends? What do I do with my time? If I'm not rushed and crazed mom, what kind of mom am I?  So much of my life revolved around work.  Now what?

I'm not really sure.   We are still trying to figure it all out.  The best thing about this transition is the amount of time Kevin and I get to spend together.  We have lots of face-time to communicate and figure out what all of this means. 

This much is certain.  This is a great job.  This is a full-time job.  And I love it.

We may not have forever, but we have now.  Now makes a lasting impact on little lives.  Now always shapes tomorrow (even when we aren't paying attention or worse rushing through it).  Now is our hope.

So long....

Hello!

Holding up my end of the bargain.

Welcome to the 25th week of my pregnancy.  Only 105 days left and our little family will convert to this artist's rendering....

OUR FAMILY- by Patrick

Last night at a birthday party I turned down cake and attributed it to my poundage.  I admitted to the moms that were trying to coerce me into eating cake that I have gained 30 lbs and needed to slow it down.  As they assessed me and shook their heads in disbelief, I couldn't help but wonder, "do I care that I am 30 lbs up  only 25 weeks in?"  I don't.  I haven't been the pillar of good nutrition or physical activity but I'm just doing my part!  The baby on the other hand has only gained a pound and a half.  Mom- 30 Baby- 1.5  I'm totally winning.

And my doctor didn't call CPS when he saw my stats last week.  He did make a verbal weight gain note for both of us though.  And he also told me that the reason I am having such bad tailbone pain is because I don't have enough junk in my trunk (my words, not his).  So there.

I'm grateful that it is summer and I can camp-out in maxi dresses (or muumuus as my mother called them).  And I am so grateful that I am feeling better.  I had a case of the vapors (i know 'sic') on Monday (my first in weeks) and woke up on Tuesday trying to figure out how I functioned for the first 15 weeks of my pregnancy.... oh that's right, I ate.

The Joys of Literacy

Patrick can read.  For the moms who watch their kids go from early literacy to full on reading books cover to cover, you know what I'm talking about.  One day the light bulb turns on and it just keeps burning brighter and brighter.  Until one day, he reads something that you don't want him to read and you are wishing you could dial back the time machine that whisked you to this moment.....

So yesterday evening, I changed out of my work clothes and made the unfortunate decision to put on a tank top that Devre a friend bought me several years ago.  It is a pj top, not something I wear in public.  It happens to be screened and blinged with the word "Sexy."  I picked it because it is big and I thought it had a good chance of covering my belly (which it didn't).  Two seconds after going downstairs to get comfy, Patrick looks at my shirt and reads it out loud: "Sexy? What's that?"

Really?  Why me?

Mother's Day was great.....

So great, I puked.  I don't know why, latent morning sickness?  too many raw veggies? bad (3-week) headache?  dunno.

I yelled for Kevin to come feel sorry for me.  I got Keith.

"You sick Momma?  Just spit like this."  Then he rubbed my back for awhile.  "You all done frowing up?"

Just get your dad.  Next I got Patrick.

"What's the problem here?" he demanded with his hands on his hip, peering down the toilet.

Just. Go. Get. Dad.

Finally, I got Kevin, who put me to bed.  After a rest and a 4-hour nap I rallied for a dinner of Thai food (my request) and a dessert of heartburn.  Good times. 

Happy belated Mother's Day.