Mommy's intuition; what would you do?

Today, my Mother in law and I took the girls to the splash pad. The day was gorgeous, 90 degree weather, the sun was shining, there was a slight breeze blowing. It was the perfect type of day to take the girls to a wonderful wholesome  fun family activity; the local parks department splash pad. My girls are water babies and in the heat, the splash pad is the safest way for preschoolers to beat the heat...or so I thought.
We arrive and the girls are overcome with excitement, dressed in the new bikinis that their Grandma ChaCha had gotten them for this visit. Bella was over the moon about the cheetah print bikini with the hot pink piping on the edges and Gabi was sporting a red, white and blue striped bikini as beautifully as only a 3 year old American girl next door could. They were absolutely adorable.
It was seriously about 100 degrees out, so the splash pad was packed with children running through the glistening cool water.At first the girls were filled with trepidation, it was a little overwhelming with all of the bigger kids running about but soon they became acclimated and were having the time of their life.
Grandma ChaCha and I sat on the bench ,looking on at the girls, mentally recording every grin and smile. Then I started snapping pictures because the girls were just too irresistible not to. It was another one of those days that you just knew memories were happening. Then it all changed.
The splash pad is in the middle of a public park. We had noticed early on that there was a man training a Border Collie. I am always uber aware of our surroundings. I am a people watcher by nature.We thought it was ridiculous but hey , it was his dog and whatever.... we had human babies to watch. Then the man walked his dog over to the splash pad. Not necessarily a great thing to do but whatever, as long as he kept the dog close to him and kept it away from the children. Of course, every single child ( with the exception of mine) ran over to pet the obviously dehydrated Border Collie. My children asked but, first I don't let my kids pet strange dogs and second, quite frankly, something about this man gave me the heebie jeebies...before he even opened his mouth to talk.  He kept skulking around, watching the kids run through the fountains as they sporadically came up to him and asked to pet the dog. It felt like he was one of those guys who uses their dogs to pick up girls but these "girls" were actually "girls" ages 2- 13. I kept my girls close without alarming them...or him. But for some reason, he kept gravitating toward where we were. He kept circling where we were sitting, and then he came in for conversation. The girls were oblivious but he kept smiling at them and trying to engage my Mother in law and myself. At first, I was pleasant. After all, I wasn't raised in a cave but then things got weird. He smiled at my 3 year old, practically salivating and licking his lips ( like a man who is speaking to Pamela Anderson while she's wearing her bikini) and says, "My , you sure are a cute little thing!" And then he proceeded to keep trying to chat up me and my Mother in law.Now, it wasn't exactly what he said but how he said it and the way he was looking at my girls that sent off my Mommy intuition/alarm. I don't leave anything to chance when it comes to my daughters , I'd much rather insult an adult with my over protectiveness than let my child get hurt because I was too trusting and I think most parents understand that view point. Our children are the priority,all else is less important...period! Then I noticed him sizing up my 5 year old, as he was talking.I felt my skin crawl. At this point, I was despondent towards him and pretty much ignoring his very existence.My main focus was trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this situation short of saying,"Can you please get your creepy mind the fuck off my children you sick bastard!!" So, I tell my girls..."5 minutes, we've got to go meet Grandpa!" My Mother in law, looked like she was on high alert as well, so something was definitely not right with this man. He continued trying to engage us, then it went completely creepy. He proceeds to talk at us and tell us that he was in the service but came out and immediately had himself fixed ( why would you tell a complete stranger this? I think what he meant to say was after he was caught for being a molester he was chemically castrated!) because he didn't want children ( then why are you hanging around the splash pad full of children, Chester?) and he continues to say that it is so easy to have kids, "You blink and you have like four kids!" Something in his tone was as if he were implying that children were disposable. I know you may be thinking to yourself, this woman is completely overreacting. But if you were there, you know that feeling you get when something is most definitely not right with someone? That was the feeling that  I had. My stomach was in knots; this man had me about to vomit he made me so nervous being around my children. I suddenly felt creeped out and insulted simultaneously ( it was a train wreck of creepy activity) It felt like that any minute he was capable of pulling out a knife and grabbing my girls and running off...in broad day light...he was that CREEPY!! I grabbed my girls with nothing more than a ," Let's go." I covered them up and we left. Normally, I would have changed them in the car but this freak started following behind us. I was prepared for battle. I was pissed, freaked out, and scared all at the same time. Endorphins was oozing from my pours.My fight or flight response was in overdrive.I have never come in contact with someone whom, I felt, actually were a threat to my children. But this man made me feel afraid for them. It was reminiscent of that scene in the original Texas Chainsaw massacre when the creepy guy gets in the van and then cuts himself and they are stuck in the van with him. You know you don't want him there, but you are afraid of what might happen if you spook him, Needless to say, we will NEVER go to that splash pad again..EVER.
The moral of the story; it is our moral obligation that if something feels wrong for our children,as their protectors, we must do whatever it takes to keep them safe, no matter how crazy it seems.My only regret is that I didn't call the cops on this guy for lurking around the splash pad accosting mothers and leering at children and that I didn't grab my girls and run the minute he looked in their general direction. By the time we left, only about 10 minutes had passed from start to finish but I felt dirty and violated.What do you think? Did I over react? Or does Mommy intuition trump all rhyme or reason?

Perhaps they are not stars

We have this dog, Saffaron ( Saffy as we affectionately refer to her as) and she is almost 11. Now, she is not a tiny thing a ma bob or a golden noodle hybrid, she  is an adorable boxer. We love her like crazy and we have for the past 11 years but old girl is getting, well...old! This poor dog went from being the big guy and my first "baby" to being basically another  play set for our girls. Our girls mean well, and they think they are "loving on her" but Lord, if that is love..it really does hurt. But Saffy, old girl, she doesn't miss a beat. She stands there, never growls or shows her teeth, and rolls with the punches. We protect her and intervene on her behalf..regularly but I know if it was happening to me and I was 77 , I'd be biting someone.
That being said, I am getting worried about the fact that sooner than later, Ms. Saffy will be leaving us for greener pastures. My girls really do adore this dog, she is their big sister. If I am telling them how much I love them..they always remind me.."Don't forget about Saffy, Mommy!" I know when the time comes, little hearts will be severely broken. I am just trying to avoid broken psyches. I've been trying to , in the most simplistic way possible, explain to my daughters about death. Basically, I have explained that when a person or animal dies, they go to sleep and leave this earth. We won't see them again on earth.They know about heaven and they are stoked that people who die get to go there and be well and happy. But sad that said person will no longer be with us. I am always careful to not say when people get old they die because I know Bella, she'd be watching the grandparents like a hawk.
I think I am over sensitive about the issue because growing up, we never really had to deal with death so I am not so good at it myself ( Hell, I'm afraid of how I will act when the dog dies. Shit, Saf better wait until the big guy is home to pick up all the pieces). Growing up, I seldom remember people or pets dying and I think it had something to do with the way my parents dealt  didn't deal with the topic. For example, growing up we had a dog named "Pancho" ( yes, yes, I know..odd choice for a dog's name:) for my entire childhood. Now,  you say, "Wow! That was one hell of a long life lived by this dog" That would be a  pretty fair assumption, but it would be wrong. Did I mention Pancho was a Shepard, a beagle, a spaniel,a terrier, a Rottweiler, and a couple different really cute mutts. Yeah, apparently if Pancho died or "ran away" my dad would just replace it...with whatever dog struck his fancy. We'd ask "What happened to Pancho?" And he would put the dog in front of us and say, "What are you talking about? This IS Pancho!" So let it be written, so let it be done. He was Papi so we just took his word for it.
Then there was my freshman year of college when my Grandma was dying of lung cancer. I'd speak to my Mom pretty regularly who was taking care of her, and Mom kept telling me that every time the phone rang, my Grandma would ask, "Is that Debi? Is that my Sug ( as in sugar..which is what my Grandma always called me..she's from Tennessee that's how they roll down there)" Anyways, I knew my Gran was sick but apparently not how sick. I went about my semester and right after midterms I came home for October break. The house is empty..weird, right? Finally, my Dad appeared. He made some chit chat with my friend who drove me home for break, even offered him some food. Once I could get a word in edgewise, I inquired, "Where's Mommy? ( and the rest of my brothers and sisters for that matter and yes,I realize I was 18 calling my Mother "Mommy".I still do..so what!)" My Dad:" Oh, They are in Tennessee at your Grandma's funeral ( all very matter of factly)" WTF??? Me: "Why didn't somebody tell me?(sobbing)" Dad: " Your Mom didn't want to bother you during midterms. Your Grandma didn't want her to." See what I mean? Totally not making me face death. I missed the funeral, the wake and never really got to say goodbye.
That's how its been my whole life. I've been to a couple wakes but when it comes down to it, the finality of it all, I can't do it ( "It" meaning the whole putting someone in the ground and actually saying goodbye). In fact, no one's even insisted that I had to.  At this point in my life,the emotional collateral damage may completely destroy me. I know there will come a time(very soon) that I will have to face my fears, we have a couple Greats that are in their 80's and I have to get a grip.These are women who are big parts of my girls lives so my girls will have to be given the opportunity to say goodbye. I can not deprive them of that because of my own phobias. I've found that once a family member dies, I just don't go back to that city again. Crazy, I KNOW! It's just that ,subconsciously, I know that once I go there and they are no longer there, I have to face the reality..the pain of loss. This is how it has always been for me. So, I am trying with my own handicapped sense of loss to explain this to my daughters because I don't want them to be crippled by the fear  of losing their loved ones but to know it is just a small part of living and that dying is not the end but the beginning of another chapter. After all, isn't it my duty as their Mother to prepare them for life? Part of life is dealing with loss and as painful and unversed as I am in dealing with it myself, I must find a way to navigate the situation so that I can make it easier on them,when the time comes that they have to deal with a loss.
This is an Eskimo Proveb quote that I find beautiful and reassuring. I hope to share it with my girls as a source of comfort as they grow into women and are forced to embrace the reality that no one lives forever.

"Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of  our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy."

Count your blessings

So, I always like to encourage people to count their blessings instead of their problems; You'll be much happier and have a lot more free time! That being said, seems of late I've been a really bitchy a**hole about all things and everything, especially my girls. Maybe its been the lack of sleep, the week day single mothering thing, missing my husband, needing some nookie, stress...who knows what the answer may be. All I know is this is not who I am, but it seems its who I've become. Temporarily anyways. I'm working through it and feeling my feelings.  It's come to my attention that I've been spending a lot of time on here complaining about my children. Boo on me for that.
The reason I am saying boo on me is because I recently, last night when I couldn't sleep, was checking out some blogs on last weeks FF and I came across one that really touched my heart. The name of the blog is Viva la Vida and I read her "Our Story" and it really reminded me of how truly blessed I really am. This woman and her husband, after being told it was medically impossible, became pregnant. There were complications and she had such a raging case of Hyperemesis Gravidarium that she had to be intravenously fed daily. She couldn't even keep water down. Because of the condition, the doctor had her get weekly ultrasounds to check on the baby's well being. As messed up as all this was, she got to see her precious baby grow in utero.Her and her husband were so excited to meet this baby.They had waited so long for their miracle and had held off on knowing the sex. Before her week 24 appointment, they decided to throw caution to the wind and find out the sex of the baby. The night before her appointment, she started feeling extremely sick and constipated. By the following day, their lives had changed forever. (Please go to her blog if you want the entire story. It is not my story to tell  and I can not do it the justice it deserves.) The baby they had watched grow for 24 weeks and had grown to love so much passed away, without warning and without a chance to say goodbye...or even a brief hello.
Her story touched my heart and made me realize how grateful I am that my babies are with me. That I can touch them, hold them, kiss them, cuddle them, see their faces every morning and watch them sleep. I can watch them grow and get to know them with each passing day. It made me realize how lucky I am that they are here with me to aggravate and annoy me, at times, because being made crazy by them beats being sane without them...any day of the week. She is a brave woman to share her story. I was moved to tears when I read her story. I hope one day she will get to hold her baby boy in her arms again, in heaven.
I get so caught up in the day to day craziness that is my life that sometimes I forget that "THIS" is everything I ever wanted! My girls are absolutely amazing. They blow my mind with their wit and beauty on a daily basis. Their souls and their intelligence beat that of any grown person,I've ever known.  I know women who have lost children before they were born, were still born at full term, who have lost infants, young children, and teenagers and it never seems to get easier or less painful when a Mother loses her children. The void that is left by the loss of a child is one I hope to NEVER know. So I am going to cherish my girls with all I have got for as long as I can,and if you hear me complain again from time to time....forgive me! I'm only human!

Queen of the Masses

Lately, its been a real chore to get my 2 year old, Gabs, to sit quiet and still during mass. I'm sure it has something to do with her being 2, her being bored, it being spring, and a laundry list of other reasons. The main reason being that she is 2. I am lucky enough to go to a church with , what I'd consider, to be one of the highest kid to adult ratios. In fact, I am sure there are more children then there are adults. When children's liturgy convenes, at minimum, 2/3rds of the church disappears. Yes, they are true Catholics. Some parents have as many as 8 children. God bless them. I have 2 and it feels like 10. What must eight feel like? 40? These women look relatively beautiful and composed. I think I may be one of the most disheveled of the bunch. I always come to mass armed; snack, drink, book, baby, barbie. We normally don't sit in the crying room because well, the entire church is a crying room (refer to inordinate amount of children:) The girls come in and sit right down in their pretty little matching dresses ( yes, I am one of those Moms. My girls match. Hey, they are 2 and 5, really, how much longer will I be able to do this? Don't feel too sorry for them. I don't dress them funny or anything.) and they sit down. They look so innocent. I always think hope that this will be the day. This will be the day they behave for the entire mass. One can dream. Gabs normally gets bored about 3 minutes in; as soon as everyone stands up and she can't see. I offer to pick her up. I really do. But if her big sister is standing, then darn it, so is she. Then we sit. She starts asking for snacks, quite loudly. "MOmmmmmma...me WANT snack!" Me (whispering. dying of embarrassment): "One second sweetie. Wait til Father is finished with the opening prayer,please." Gabs: "NOW!!" Yes, I am pretty sure all 5 rows surrounding us, front and back have heard. Hell, let's be honest...Father heard and now my secrets out. I'm letting my kids snack in church. Shame on me. Last weekend, the bulletin asked that "all parishioners"  keep their area of pews picked up before leaving mass; not leaving behind any wrappers, crumbs, etc. Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was referring to the Cheerios that rain down all over that church. Oops! At least I'm not the only one. I try to keep them picked up but I swear those things have legs. I am bringing one of those tiny hand held Dustbuster in my purse next time. I wonder how they would feel about me leaving behind a child:)
Anyways, so that is mass. Gabs making up words to all the hymns. Worse yet, she thinks it is hilarious to sing louder than anyone else around her. Her sister, Bella, she doesn't always sing but she likes to get her groove on at church. She dances and sometimes she tries to make others dance as well (like unsuspecting little copy cat toddlers, who giggle with delight, as I get shot a "can't you keep your kid still" stare. NO, NO I Can't. Can you?" As long as it is relatively quiet and and the girls pay as much attentions as their little brains can muster, I am good. A+ for effort. Then, when I think its safe and we are almost outta that joint  until the next weekend, time for Eucharist. The most holy time of the entire mass. The receiving of blessings and the body and blood of Christ. I look forward to it. It helps get me through to the next weekend. The girls always want to accompany me; they think the blessing received from the Father is the best (even though they both have been known to try and swipe a little body of Christ). We head up to the front of church in a line that lasts for about 15 minutes (its a huge church with all these wonderful parents and the plethora of children that they are blessed with). The whole time ,I am praying "Please God just let me make it to Father and safely back to the return trip to my pew!" I know you are thinking , why doesn't she leave those brats in the pew. Seriously, you know what would happen. They'd scream the entire time.
This past week, we went to the front. The girls were perfect. They received their blessings, said amen, and promptly turned to return to our seats. I see the light of the open door at the back of the church and I think to myself..one more week, I made it. We're safe. Or so  I thought. As we are walking back, I am in holy hang your head enjoy the moment mode. I look up and I notice everybody smiling, on the verge of giggling. What the heck. Is my dress tucked in my panties. That's not very Christian....Help a sister out. Then I see the eyes are fixed on my Gabs. My deliciously wonderful, over the top, not giving a shit what anybody thinks..Gabs! Apparently, she thought she had been elected Queen of the Mass. She was walking down the aisle doing the beauty queen wave to all her loyal subjects, complete with big cheesy Vaseline smile! OMG!!!! I can't take these kids anywhere.

Help, I've fallen....

OK, well maybe I haven't quite fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon but I am definitely falling. I started this journey about 6 months ago. I had hit the reset button on my  life and was doing really well. I lost 25 lbs in the first 3 months and that is no small feat, especially for a woman in her mid thirties with two small girls. But then a lot of life happened to me and the loss stalled. Problem is its been stalled for about 3 months. I still go get weighed ( even though it is within the same 1 lb every week) and I track my points but this plateau is holding its ground. Now, I don't know if this is payback for having an eating disorder for 7 years of my younger life and my body is trying to punish me in my old age or if I've done something wrong, pissed someone off...or what. All  know is someone needs to push my slightly fat ass back up on that wagon cause I'm quickly losing my footing . Weight loss is an epic adventure no matter what age you are but throw into the mix that your time is monopolized by others who are actually life dependent on you and things get hairy. I am tying to be healthy, to be a good example for my girls...so failure is not an option. I have got to keep at this until it works. Basically, I am in this for the rest of my life. I need to refocus, reset, and restart. Here I go, pulling myself back up on that wagon...hey, that at least has to be good for my arms, right?
 

Food Revolution: “When you invite people to think, you are inviting revolution”

“When you invite people to think, you are inviting revolution” ... Ivana Gabara. Did anyone else see the first , or was it the second episode, in which Jamie shared with the kiddos how chicken nuggets are made? I think he disclaimed it with "this is not how they are made "here" (meaning the U.S) but seeing the ribs and the left over parts going into a food processor has stuck in my brain. I can not get that image out of my mind and I don't 100% believe his disclaimer. All of this time, like a fool, I have been feeding my kids nuggets like its a healthy alternative but its crap. How did I never understand , before Jamie Oliver's demonstration, exactly what the hell "rib meat" meant? I had no idea it meant actual ribs were ground up into the nuggets. I was thoroughly disgusted with the whole thing. I can no longer, in good conscience, allow my children to eat processed nuggets. There are a plethora of things they are not allowed to eat and that they are only allowed in very limited quantities, but now one more thing is gone. Not to mention, I, myself, will never be able to eat another nugget again. My new thought process is this, if I can't recognize what body part or animal the meat comes from; we can't eat it. Now that I am really thinking it over, seeing as I am a recovering vegetarian, going back to that way of life is not such a bad idea. At least with veggies, everything is recognizable and readily available without going through processing. For now, the girls will be sticking with white meat tenders but I'm not sure how long I can go on this way. I think I need to really start researching our food choices because obviously what I thought could pass for a healthier alternative is not! I even went out and bought Jamie's new cookbook, I guess that was sort of the point, right?LOL Whatever it takes to make sure my kids are eating healthy foods that are good for them. Fool me once, shame on you...fool me twice, shame on ME!

Jamie's Food Revolution: Rediscover How to Cook Simple, Delicious, Affordable Meals

Parting is such sweet sorrow

As excited as I was for my husband to come home Friday night, that's how depressed I am that he has left. They say your first year of marriage is the hardest, and I used to believe that. They also say that the year you have a child, that is a very difficult year in a marriage. Makes sense, the once again shifting of the relationship paradigm. But, that year brought us scary close to one another. It's sorta like being in war together; you're scared to death, you are fighting to stay alive ( or at least to be sure that you keep your child alive), and you do some growing up together. It definitely takes it to the next level. Now, we are heading towards are 11th year of marriage (yes, I married at the age of 13:), we've just spent year 9 &10 being downsized 3 times. Oh yeah, you heard me correctly. If that is not the test of your marital strength, I don't know what is. Seriously, in my world, money is the root of all evil; when there is none....I get evil. Not really, but its a stress to have bills coming in and what little income you have going out. But we weathered through it together. Hell, this last time, I didn't even stress about it. I just said to myself, "Hey, worrying helps no one, it makes my energy all negative..I'm not doing it." Then there was a job. A wonderful lovely, knight in shining armor job rode in all the way from Iowa on its big metaphorical steed and rescued us. Yey, the day is saved. But all is not what it seems, yes, we are blessed by God to have found employment in this economy so quickly. I know that. But seriously, did it have to be 4 hours away from where we live. Here I am , a wife who actually likes having my husband around a lot, and he is in Iowa. Poor guy is living like a transient it what we refer to as his "hole" , a very nice 1 bedroom apartment furnished with a blow up bed, 2 camping chairs and a few other oddities from our garage. I feel really terrible. I know he is not taking more because he doesn't want the girls and I to feel as if he actually "lives" there. But the fact of the matter is that he is there more than he is here. I essentially have a long distance marriage at this point. I think if we hadn't been through so much together already as a married couple and be in such a stable and committed marriage,  this could be dangerous. I used to always use the line, "hey, if I wanted to be alone I would have stayed single." That was back when we first got married, when I was 12 and apparently really immature and needed to be with him constantly. I used to shutter at the idea of him traveling for business. I guess I've learned my lesson. Traveling occasionally would be amazing compared to this situation. It's kind of exciting, that I get to get all excited to see my husband like when we were first dating but at the same time, the parting is such sweet sorrow! Every Friday, I get all jazzed up like a 15 year old version of myself about to see her boyfriend for a hot date and then Sunday night reality slaps me right across the face and I realize I won't see my husband for a few more days.I'm not complaining, well maybe a little, but hey what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? After the last couple years of marriage, I think I probably have strength and fortitude the likes of Lou Ferrigno! So, just to recap; job good, money good, having wonderful husband 4 hours away from myself and my girls..bites!

Damn you Bree Van de Kamp!

Anyone who has ever read my blog knows that I am a super advocate of sisterhood. I think that cat fights between women are ridiculous and that if we all spent a lot more time being real and supporting each other, life would be so much better for all of us. Why does it always have to be a competition? My kid does this, does  yours? My husband makes this much money, what does yours make? My house is bigger than yours. It truly is a pissing contest for women! I can keep the house immaculate, my kids listen to everything I say, sleep in their own beds, go to bed at a reasonable hour with no drama, they are reading at a 5th grade level @ the age of four, I eat but can not gain weight, my husband just keeps getting better looking, and my kids are absolute perfection, did I mention they eat absolutely everything I put in front of them. The laundry seems to do itself, I love to cook gourmet meals for every meal, I am completely organic, I made all the baby food and my babies only wore cloth diapers and drank organic, non tainted by caffeine or alcohol breasts milk. P.S. My shit doesn't stink! I live in a mansion on the corner of bliss and perfection...or was that delusional and insanity?  And you? OK, Bree friggin Van de Kamp...you are not real, you are some convoluted conjuring of what some crazy tv exec thought real life is...not even in the 1950's, my brother sister!If we'd stop trying to make the other Mommies think we have it all under control without even breaking a sweat, maybe, just maybe we'd have some back up in the trenches instead of one more enemy trying to kill our spirits and crush our souls!
So, as if that is not bad enough, that we are all running around lying to each other about how perfect and easy our lives are, we are inadvertently (or maybe purposefully) making other women (Mommies ,specifically) feel like they are losers because they don't think life is easy or perfect and neither are their kids and their husband. I mean ,myself,  I've actually winced at the prospect of having to go to the grocery store, been brought to tears trying to figure out what the hell to wear out in public to drop my kids off at some class or other, the dishes make me want to kill someone ( actually just myself..I truly hate dishes!I am not above existing on paper products!), my girls still miraculously end up in our bed in the middle of the night, I have actually been reduced to feeding them cereal for dinner (only once..I promise)....though, I must confess, my kids are pretty perfect....to me! All kids are perfect to their parents! My point is my fellow desperate housewives, we would not all be so damn desperate if we could all just get along! Next time you feel overcome with the need to blow crazy smoke up your own ass, in a coffee induced fog of meanness,  Please remember that Mommy that you are making feel 2 inches tall would probably serve you better as a cheerleader than as a doormat!
PSA: Please be kind to your fellow Mommies! She is not your enemy, she is your sister, your friend, your confidant, your tether to sanity!

Daddy's gone, Mommy's got insomnia

Ok Ladies, I know I am not alone in this phenomenon. But I don't understand it! I am not afraid of the dark, things going bump in the night, people breaking in, kids not breathing, becoming a random murder victim. Ok, now that I think of it.... maybe I am. I suppose all of those years living so close to Gary, murder capital of the universe, eventually had to take its toll on my poor psyche! But I'm not there anymore, no where near. I am in suburbia heaven! Lush green grass, lots of family neighbors, cul de sacs, SUVs, playdates, etc. I am in the land of La La! Maybe I just need to be perpetually cuddled? I don't know but what I do know is I need some freaking sleep!Immediately! This is what happens, my husband goes away on business and I can't sleep. Absolutely can not sleep. I'm talking full on insomnia in rampant proportions. What makes it worse is that this is NOT a temporary situation, this is the situation. Last week, I was up every night until at least 2 am. The only reason I went to sleep was because I forced myself to shut down all mental functioning in the name of sanity, and for my children's safety. I am not a morning person when I've had less than 6 hours of sleep. 6 hours is the minimum sane functioning level for me, anything less for more than a day and I am full blown, off the reservation crazy. I do not jest! What do you ladies do to curb this insanity? I've spoken to several friends and it seems the only cure for what ails me is my husband, and that is not a possibility at this point. He's there working, I'm here...NOT SLEEPING! Sleep medication is not an option because I have to be somewhat  lucid in case the girls need me in the middle of the night. So, here I am, Sleepless in South Bend. I really wish I was a sleep camel, storing it all up on the weekend to get me through the week. Think that's an option? It is a nifty concept. Of course, when would I fit my husband cuddles and conjugal visits in if I were practicing my sleep camel antics on the weekends? If you have any suggestions for helping me to catch up on my rest, please share. I know a lot of us could use the advice! If not, I say Who's up for midnight chats? LOL Stay tuned, as the week goes on and my sleep supply dwindles, God only knows what may end up in these posts. Toodles! I need a nap before Big Daddy leaves the building.

Bellapalooza!

This is my beautiful daughter who is about to be 5 years old on the 10th of March. We just had her 5th birthday party on Saturday, with all of our friends and family. Her theme, completely of her own choice, Moulin Rouge. Yes, that is right, my 4 year old chose for her theme....Moulin Rouge. The entire party was done in pink and black , complete with pink and black cake...made by Daddy, as he does very year. The Pink Diamond costume was made by Grandma and Bella was tickled pink, pardon the pun.  It's amazing how easy it is to make children happy. I love her smile and will do absolutely anything in the world to see it. All was moving swimmingly until she was opening gifts, such an innocuous thing. I was taking photos and  it was like she was literally growing up before my eyes. All I kept thinking was, hold on a minute....slow down, wasn't it just last year when you were eating cake for the first time on your first birthday? Then she'd say something so grown up like, "Oh my gosh, thank you all so much. I wasn't expecting so many gifts!" Then, she got to the gift from us. She squealed with delight and then.... she opened the card. I had purposely gotten her a musical card, her and her little sister are simply over the moon for those cards.This it what it said; "Imagine a perfect day, where happiness and love feel as bright and warm as the summer sun and all the dreams in your heart come true...and you'll know what its like to spend a day loving you!" Obviously, I know the card was meant for a couple but the sentiment was so perfect. She opened it and it played "It's a wonderful world" and I about lost it. I was all in hysterics (on the inside). I was holding back tears and biting my lip, while snapping photos. When all I really wanted to do was go over and give her a big ole snuggle and keep her in that moment...forever. She was so happy and over joyed in that moment.She thought it was awesome and was thrilled that I had gotten her a card that made music,never mind what the card said. NO, the contents of what that card said and the message I wrote in it will all mean something much more important to her in 20 years or so.There is nothing so magical in the world as seeing your child genuinely happy and smiling their "real" smile. Her actual birthday is Wednesday and we will be celebrating Bellapalooza in style, as we always do. It is one of the most important days of my life and I think it should be celebrated and commemorated. I feel like it is my birthday too, as it is the day I became a Mommy.It is the day I was born a Mommy! In that moment when I first held her, I was transformed and changed forever. Happy Birthday , my beautiful amazing princess!

Mothers; No matter how old our children may get, they will always be our "babies'

Today, I had an amazing realization. I used to hate when my Mom or my Mother in Law would call and ask all kinds of questions, or try to tell us what to do, how we should be behaving or spending ( rather saving) our money. It used to drive me crazy, back when I was in my 20's, before I had my own little precious gems.And now I know, now I understand fully...Now, I also realize I will be 10 times worse! We may be grown up, having our own babies and we think we know everything, but we are still their babies. The same way I still feel like I am 20 (and should look that way too), the same way 10 years pass in the blink of an eye, is the same way my babies will always be my babies. No matter how tall, or old, or big they get...I will always see them through those same rose colored glasses, in those first moments that took my breath and left me gasping for air.It pains me now, at the ripe old ages of 2 and 4 to see them coming for independent. I am proud, of course, but I feel them drifting slowly away from me. I guess that is how it is suppose to be, that is why the teen years are so trying. If they weren't we would be crying our eyes out and lying in the floor like rumpled towels when they left to college (which I am sure, I still will be...until the transfer, my husband assures me that he sees in our future:) But instead, they hit puberty, turn completely crazy, and this helps ease the pain and instead of holding on for dear life when they leave, we are yelling, "See ya at Thanksgiving, don't let the door hit ya in the rear:)"But in the end, they are always our children and we are always their Mothers, no matter the age, distance, or time that has passed.

To have a good friend, you've got to be a good friend

It seems everything we need to know in life we learn in preschool. My 4 year old has been repeating, "Mommy, to have a good friend, you've got to be a good friend!" No doubt a piece of sage advice bestowed upon her by her wonderful preschool teacher.Anyways, Bella tends to like to share these words of wisdom with Mommy. Normally, I say ,"Yes, sweetie. That is right!" But, this time I actually took the advice to heart and examined some of my own relationships.I've come to the realization that you get out what you put in and if you don't then cut them lose. So many of us go through life making acquaintances that we let pass for friends, but there is definitely a difference, as one of my closest friends told me, " It's like coming home." It's the feeling of being safe and secure to be yourself and be accepted and loved unconditionally. I don't know about you but that's what I want out of a friend. I'm not one for superficial friendships, I don't have the time or energy to play that game at this point in my life.If I call you my friend, I genuinely think of you as my friend, as family. I know that acquaintances have a place and I do have those relationships but I don't call them my friends. I don't want to spend inordinate amounts of time with them or subject my family to them. I don't call them, text them, email them. I'm a Mommy, my time is precious and few, so I decided that I need to put in what I want to get out and if its not there I gotta cut it lose. It's always disappointing though when you put it all in, only to find out the other person is only half way in. It's actually very sad and you feel let down. I don't want to be responsible for doing that to someone, and I don't want to be that kind of an example for my daughters.
I learned a lot of life lessons from my daughter and her wise preschool teacher, and those wonderful women in my life who are my friends. We have just recently moved home from spending time in a delightfully beautiful part of the country called Chesterfield, Virginia. I am convinced that it must be the closest thing to heaven on earth; it is gorgeous and the people there are amazing human beings. I don't know how they go there or why, but it works.Its like a vortex for goodness:) I hope I don't embarrass anyone but this has to be said. I don't want to spend my life wasting time and not telling people how important they are to me. When we first arrived, I was new and knew absolutely no one. The people I met there, were by far the most wonderful and genuine women I have ever met. They invited me into their lives, their hearts, their families.They were supportive and amazing. They made me feel like I was at home, even though I was hundreds of miles from where my "family" lived. I have never experienced anything like this before in my life. Who knew you could form true friendships and bonds with other women in such a short amount of time, especially as an adult. We left Virginia without a job but much richer people. I left with a heavy heart, and will miss these women and their amazing spirits . We may be geographically apart but they will always be in my heart.They took me in , extended friendship and sisterhood, when they didn't even know me. It wasn't for any reason other than to be kind to another human, but they will never know how much that kindness meant to me at that time and will always mean to me. I will miss our talks, long walks, saying hi in the hallways, sharing our childrens firsts in life, our laughter,prayers, the cocktails when we needed to decompress, but most of all I will miss their sisterhood.
I don't need to mention names, but you all know who you are and you know how you touched my heart. You have taught me that to have a good friend, I need to be a good friend. I just hope I can live my life living up to the standard that you ladies have set. If all Mommies, women , could have that kind of bond that nurtured and supported one another like you did me...the world would be a better place. Thank you, my friends, all of you. I must be doing something right, to have all of you wonderful women as my friends! Just remember, as my 4 year old once told me, "To have a good friend, you've got to be a good friend!"

Truthful Tuesday!!

Good morning, my lovelies! It is once again that time of the week. The day that we can come to our safe haven and expunge all of the wreckage of the week from our souls! Don't be afraid, we won't bite. Just take your load and dump it here! Happy Tuesday! I'm sure tomorrow will be better!
So, that being said, here are my 3 (yeah its been that kind of week) for the day; I wish so badly that my 2 year old could wipe her own little butt. It's not that I don't like helping her out but this week my back has decided to go out and it is rather impossible for me to bend over to her level to wipe her without doubling over in pain, which at any moment could become permanent form if the back decides to completely seize up. It's like a really awful game of slots. I am just praying for no whammies!
I am wishing I could grant my four year old's wish, to teach her a lesson. Last night, she informs us that she wants to be an only child.Little too late for that one, we have 2 children. I so want to banish her from her little sister for 24 hours so that she knows how much she would truly miss her. Of course, at the mere mention of grounding her away from her sister, she went into hysterics and said she only needed a couple hours!
OK, I have one more. I wish that I could freaking find my back pain medicine amongst all the rubble that is my slowly but surely unpacked house. You know the house I just packed up in January and moved 1/2 way across the country,only to have them inform us 7 days later that we would be returning home. Not to be stuck on repeat but I am perfectly within my rights to be pissed at this situation.All 10 of the times I was searching for my meds in the past 3 days, I have wanted to kick somebody's teeth in. I have yet to hurt anybody and the meds are still lost in space. I know you are wondering, "Why doesn't she go see her Dr. and get more?" The answer is simple,with the return home and the downsizing, we lost our insurance.So there you have it, the gift that just keeps on giving!!! Hugs all around!!

I am so tired that I just washed my hands while drying my hair!

Ever have one of those weeks where you are so tired that you can't even see straight? I'm sure, as Mommies, you have all been there. Those nights when you are up all night with a sick child, or feeding a newborn, or if you are really blessed both. Yes, we have all been there. I am not asking for pity:)LOL I am merely sharing the very interesting, albeit scarey, scenario that I experienced a couple days ago in a hotel bathroom . Wow, that sentence sounded way more exciting that what actually happened. No, there were no seedy actions taking place in the Somerset Pennsylvania Hampton Inn. Seediness would imply that something of interest actually happened.What I am referring to is something that has probably, in one shape or form, happened to most of us. I just got so darn busy, juggling so many things,that I had a week where I actually forgot to eat( as unbelievable as that does sound)and I'm pretty sure I forgot to sleep..well, except for those 3 hours I caught on at least 3 out of the 5 nights of that week.Anyways, apparently if you keep this schedule up for more than a day or two, it can be dangerous. Really!I know this because I was so tired after arriving at the hotel that I literally stumbled into the shower, with barely enough strength to lift the shampoo bottle, then rinse, lather and repeat...ok, I lied, I didn't repeat...way too much work. This all was the culmination of a week of packing, parties, MNO's, trying to spend as much time as possible with the people we loved and were leaving behind, and just life. It was totally worth every second of sleep I had forgone, or so I had thought. That was until, after steppig out of the shower and grabbing the nearest clean thing to me to put on, I decided to dry my hair. Not until my 2 year old daughter came into the bathroom and looked at me like I was completely insane( you know the look I give her when I walk into the bathroom and she has about 3 inches of handsoap on her 2 tiny hands) did I realize that I was running my hands under the water in the sink, while I was drying my hair! Now, isn't it bad to play with electrical devices while immersed in water? I have decided I must get more sleep, no matter the cost. I know I am a crazy brilliant multitasker (LOL) but I don't want to die for it! So, the moral of the story is Mommies need sleep1 Repeat after me, Mommies need sleep!

FYI, 4's the new 16!

Have you heard that new saying that 40's the new 20? Well, I don't know who's believing that load of crap but I'm pretty sure its not the 20 year olds and I'm fast approaching the 40 year end of the spectrum and I'm not believing it for a second. So, Oprah..please stop perpetuating this myth. First, there was the Million little Pieces guy and now this. Come on Oprah, just because you are spoon feeding it to us...some things I just refuse to believe. So, to be straight 40 is not the new 20, no matter how bad we want to believe it and 50's not the new 30 either Oprah:)However, I am beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, 4 is the new 16. The other day, my 4 year old, who very frequently throws around "fact of the matters" and "Actually Mom..." spat out a "FYI..Grandma..." and then soon thereafter, floored me. We were on a road trip, we stopped at a rest area to avoid some bad weather, during a brief round of chit chat, I , funny Mommy that I am, cracked a very tiny joke at my 4 year olds expense. Now mind you, I thought this joke was about 100 miles above her head. No way she knew what I was talking about or even remotely that I was speaking about her. As far as I was concerned, all she knew was I was speaking to her in what I assumed sounded like Chinese (because it was so far out of her grasp of understanding) and I amused myself. It was late, I was slap happy, I giggled. To which my dear sweet 4 year old, with all the attitude of a 16 year old about to flee the premises with her newly issued drivers license ( or what I remember me being like at 16) looks at me, with her hand on her hip, her hip popped out, and her eyes rolling back in her head.These are the words that came flowing out of her mouth so seamlessly that I had to check myself for my own hearing, " LoL Mom, LOL!!" Complete and utter silence, followed by the eerie sound of crickets. WTH??? Are you kidding me? I was so baffled that I was speechless. She used it in complete context. I don't know where she learned to speak in IM language or if she really understood what she said but I do know that I don't want to know the truth and I want my 4 year old to be 4. In a world where heels are made for newborns, low rise jeans are made for toddlers, and make up is almost a pre requisite for preschool....I choose to believe that this was a complete coincidence.as a sidebar, I have also decided I am going to make a concerted effort to not use the term "LOL"... ever again.

Being honest with yourself

Every morning, I wake up and I see my daughters, usually one or both have ended up in our bed at some point throughout the night, and I am in awe of them. I truly am overwhelmed with a feeling of pride and blessedness that I have the honor of calling these perfect human beings mine. The sheer fact that I had anything to do with assisting them to enter into this world, it makes my life worth living. And every night before I go to bed, I pray to God to watch over my daughters and to let them live long, happy, and healthy lives. Above all else, this is all I ask. It is all that really matters to me. I think this is how all mothers feel. But some time in between the morning awe and the bedtime kisses and prayers, we get sidetracked by life. I've caught myself yelling at my girls to " please be quiet," or even the occassional full on "Please shut up," at which I immediatley feel horrible and like I should be awarded the worst mom ever trophy. I know that I want and have every intention and capability of being a great Mommy to my girls but sometimes I feel that it is about as effective as having every intention and capability of working out. Where is that fine line that we cross where we go from thinking our kids' behaviour is endearing to it is unacceptable? Its not them who is changing the rules, it is us and these sliding scale rules to fit our own moods, that is the real problem. That is the true culprit to our frustration. I am making a concerted effort to look at my children , even in the most trying times, no matter the behaviour and stay in control. Who makes the rules? We do. So my new rules are these 1) Love my children above all else, no matter what they do 2) Never let them see you sweat.Stay in control. 3)Let the small things go. They are only small( the children ,not the "things'lol) for a short time.4)Turn the frowns upside down. Life is too short to be unhappy.5) It's more important to have a healthy and happy realtionship with your children than to have lots of money, a clean house, a quiet house, or a social life.By trying to have all of the above, you ( or at least I do) will find yourself frustrated and unfulfilled. So, my new mantra is "Enjoy my children and forget the rest", it is the only way that I can accept the chaos that fills my everyday. It is not a bad chaos, it is merely a deviation from my plan and sometimes thats enough to throw the most organized of us all into a complete parental tailspin. But what a wonderful, exciting tailspin it is and I am blessed to be able to share this journey with my two free-spirited, adorable daughters.

Bringing Home Baby

I will never forget the moment the nurse came into my room and said,"OK, as soon as we can get you a wheel chair, you guys can go home." She shared a warm, heartfelt smile with the three of us, this new family of ours. My heart sank, my stomach turned, and my eyes immediately welled up with tears. I was frightened and overwhelmed, excited and ecstatic but I felt like I was going to vomit. I looked at my, obviously, just as freaked out husband and I whispered, " Are they really going to let us go home with her?" I knew the answer. I had been planning on this moment since the moment I knew I was pregnant. But amongst all the anticipation, I had forgotten that, in the end, this tiny, newborn baby was going Home with us.I thought to myself, "My God, what will we do with her? She is so tiny" In my head, I just knew, she was so perfect..I didn't want to be the one responsible for messing her up. They make you take a test and get a license to drive a car but no test, no license, no qualifications for taking care of a baby.It really is insane. At that moment, as we were staring at this tiny little piece of perfection strapped into the giant , all engulfing car seat, scared witless , the nurse came in with the wheelchair. I sit down in the wheel chair and I realize that this is truly the first day of the rest of my life.Absolutely everything that I have known up to this point is completely irrelevant in my life and I don't care. As they place my beautiful , little miracle into my lap, our eyes lock and her gaze holds me. I am in love, deeper then anything I have ever known. In that millisecond, I have become an extra in my own life and she is the star...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Rain ,Rain , Go Away..

Why is it that on the days when your children wake up with the greatest amounts of energy and the worst attitudes, the days that they really need to be outside in the fresh air and burn off some of all of that, those are the days it rains? Those are the days that it pours with no chance of clearing up. Don't get me wrong, my girls are absolute joys most of the time; except when they are hungry, tired, out of their element, slept on the wrong side of the bed, spot the obscure ant in the foyer, and so on and so forth.Those days are another story. But on days when they have lots of energy and ,because of rain, have no means of burning it off, they are truly something special. My day goes something like this, we wake up, they are busting at the seams to do something, anything. I suggest games, painting, drawing, reading, etc, and they tire of each and every activity within minutes.They want to go outside. It is pouring. It is miserable. Yet, still they whine to go outside. My will is breaking, my ears are bleeding, and my head is about to explode.Then it hits me..put the slickers and the rain boots on and go for it.Take 'em outside they won't melt!(The temp. is around 70 degrees, so its not like it is freezing)They'll have a blast jumping in puddles, you'll be relieved of any possibility of your head exploding and you have turned a potential scarring episode into a wonderful memory.Afterall, happiness is not measured by how many times you can win the argument but by how many times you you can avoid an argument and enjoy your children for who they are and not who you think they should be. Hug them and kiss them as often as possible because soon they will be teenagers and want nothing to do with you!

2 year old Selective Hearing Syndrome and other nuggets of wisdom

I have began to wonder why none, not one,of the parenting books mentions that around the age of 2 children develop selective hearing.Hearing only the things that they want to hear and specifically those things that you don't want them to hear such as the occasional stump your toe curse word or the fact that your friend needs to lose a couple pounds. Of course they choose to hold on to these nuggets until the most inappropriate times for instance, said friend's nervous breakdown over her looks, or they blurt out some unexpected four lettered gem in the middle of mass.Why is this information not labeled with a warning in the parenting books. Is it just another one of those secrets we keep because it is too much fun to watch the provisionals experience the embarrassment and humiliation that we ourselves did, not so long ago?Beware this is quite frequently co morbid with Constant Repeat disorder. In a nutshell, not unlike my child, your child ignores you and repeats anything they say constantly as to make sure that you have not acquired their selective hearing syndrome.My daughter's favorite repeat phrase is " M..o..m...m.y...EAT!" It is usually repeated in sets of no less then 7 times. Furthermore, even more concerning then the 2 year old selective hearing syndrome, there is the very common but temporary ( I am hoping) 4 year old complete deafness disease. This is a little more frustrating because the onset is normally around the age of 3 to 3 and 1/2 years of age and continues on to about the age of 6, only to reappear at around age 11.So, that is something to look forward to in the coming years. My daughter's particular strain of the disease leaves her completely deaf to any and all requests from her father and I, of any kind, especially those requests that pertain to the well being of her little sister, aforementioned victim of selective hearing syndrome. Sometimes it can be quite scary when you are asking, repeatedly, for the child to stop beating on their sibling, sitting on their sibling,annoying their sibling, doing something dangerous, to eat, be quiet or clean or pick up anything and the child simply does not hear your voice in any form. They become completely oblivious to the parent who is making said requests. Sometimes, we are overcome with the desire to shake said child but don't give in. At the very moment you move towards the child, like a bunny, they scamper and scurry to another room. Leaving you even more frustrated because with 4 year old complete deafness disease, once in another room deafness is absolute and there is no hope for said child to hear anything you will ever say fro the remainder of the day..possibly ever again!