Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Why I Need Another Baby

I will pause as all of you roll your eyes and sigh, yes it is another blog post about wanting a baby.

It is no secret that I love babies.  Obviously my own, but I am also immediately attracted to any baby within close proximity. I am becoming one of those crazy people who make faces and noises at any baby, friend or foe, while still maintaining a conversation with the adult.  I am pretty sure I look insane, but I can't help myself.

I have stated before, and I will again, that it is not a "I need a Daughter" thing. I was really okay when Finn was born and he was a boy. Yes, there are moments I miss the idea of a daughter, mostly just the clothing accessories, but I love my boys.  Plus, Finn's birth wasn't really a surprise. I knew going in he would be a boy.

That is not what this is about. It's a little bit about the age Finn is. He is 18 months, give or take. When his brothers were this age, I was already pregnant. And yes, I do realize that is crazy.  Both my husband and I LOVE this stage. They are just so cute I can hardly stand it. So every time I look at Finn, I am filled with the desire to have another baby. Just so I can have this stage again. But reality does hit and I realize it is just a few months and then they hit 2. Two, is actually not as terrible for us as, three is. I shudder to imagine Finn as a three-year old. We are barely surviving Micah's three.

The reason I need another baby is because Finn is not a Mama's Boy.  I know, this is a good thing, I really do. But since he is my last I envisioned this baby that I could hold, snuggle, sing to, rock, and just pour all my baby-wants, into.  But that is not the case. From an early age Finn preferred Brandon to me.  While I was nursing this wasn't such a big deal because we had one-on-one time. But  now that I am not his food source he is really in an "I love dad" phase.

In the morning I go to get him up and he is happy until we pass by our bedroom. Then he sees Brandon and starts crying. He will cry for as long as it takes for Brandon to finally come downstairs.  It doesn't matter what I do, he will cry.  When Brandon gets home from work, he races to him. It doesn't matter if we were just having great play-time, laughing, snuggling, he is done with me.

The other day he said "ma-ma" as he held out his arms. I was so happy. He was tired and getting ready for bed. I thought I would sit down, rock him, sing to him, hold him. But as I stepped toward him he ran past me and to Brandon, who was standing behind me.  "Ma-ma" did not refer to me, I was almost knocked down in his haste to get to Brandon.

Brandon says it is his turn.  Especially since Micah is the exact opposite, and won't let Brandon near him.  I know, I am glad that Finn has such a strong attachment to Brandon, I just wish it wasn't my last baby.

I've let go of the idea of having a daughter. I've let go of having another baby. Now, I've got to let go of the notion that my last baby will be my sweet mama's boy.

Immediately after writing this blog post, our family sat down for dinner. Finn cried and cried until he was let out of his high-chair, and then he ran to me. He sat on my lap crying, and Brandon said, "See he does want you". Then he threw up, not once, but twice, all over my lap.  As soon as he was done vomiting, he got off my lap and went to Brandon.  I stood there covered in vomit and watched Finn snuggle into Brandon's arms.  I rest my case. 

Friday, January 21, 2011

A Tale of Two Cookies

Today was Jack's day to be snack star.  For those of you with school-age children, this is a pretty big deal, at least in our house. Jack has been waiting for his turn for a couple of months. When I saw his name on the calendar I was so excited!

Early on this week, I asked Jack what he wanted to take for snack. Since I grocery shop at the beginning of the week, I wanted to purchase his snack at that time. There is nothing I hate more then running to the grocery store the night before to buy just the right snack.

Jack was very clear what he wanted.  Raisins, Animal Cookies, and Apple Slices.

Okay, I thought. A little weird as he doesn't really eat raisins, or animal cookies, but it is his snack. I thought maybe this was a favorite snack among his friends and he wanted to bring something they liked.  Brandon happened to go to the grocery store for me and I was very clear he had to get animal cookies. I made a trip to Costco on Wednesday to get apples. (The Costco trip is a whole other blog post but the end result is I should have stayed home that day)

I am feeling very pleased with myself because I am so ahead of the game. Snack planned and purchased well before Friday.

But then Thursday night I went in and kissed Jack goodnight. I reminded him that he was snack star the next day and that I had his animal cookies and apples. I was ignoring the raisins because he really doesn't  like those.  He said something to me that I didn't quite understand.

"What" I asked
"mumble-mumble" Jack replied
"I don't understand what you are saying" I asked oh-so gently.
"Raisin Oatmeal Cookies"
"Those are the cookies I want"
"I bought animal cookies, just liked you asked!"
Big crocodile tears and little arms that went around my neck. "But I don't like animal cookies, I wanted to take oatmeal cookies". This was said in between crying.

It's 8:00 on Thursday night, I just woke up from my impromptu nap on the couch, and all I can think about is sitting back down and watching Top Chef.

I explained to him I was sorry but I had already bought animal cookies and that is what his snack would be.  (Yes, I am a cold-heartless mom). I kissed him and left.

30 minutes later, my husband joins me on the couch.

"Ready to watch a show?" I ask
"I think I am going to make cookies for Jack" he said
I look at him.
"I promised him I would make cookies for him to take tomorrow"

I would like to say that, at this point in the story, I jumped up and we had a great cookie-making adventure in the kitchen.  Instead I turned on Parenthood and picked up my blanket.

In the morning there was fresh baked oatmeal cookies for Jack to take to school.  Jack was happy, but not as excited as I thought he might be.

"Thanks Dad" he said, "Mom can I have an English muffin for breakfast?"

Sure, that I can do.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Planning for the Future

We seem to talk a lot about the future in our house.  Simple things like, "when I get bigger I will ride a skateboard" to bigger issues such as, "how do you get to heaven".  This year especially, as I continue to take very, teeny, tiny steps away from baby-longing, we talk a lot about what we will do when we grow-up.  I, of course, tell them I do not want them to grow up; that they will always be my babies.  This seems to not be encouraging to my boys.

Jack has decided that when he grows up he will live with me. He will never leave me.  Jack is also the one that wants to make sure we die together.

Micah thinks he would like to go to jail or live in an apartment. He isn't quite sure yet. He likes to ask me questions like: "will you be sad when (insert name of close family member here) dies?"

Finn is the wild card. I'm not sure where he will fall in the range of 'never leaving' to 'see ya'!  Considering that I spent 5 minutes yesterday searching the house for him, before being told by Micah that he was outside by himself. I think he will lean more towards the "I'm outta here"mentality.

Oh well, at least Jack will stay with me to care for me in his old age.  Hopefully by then he will be wearing clothes and not just putting shirts on over his pajamas.  That would be weird, right?

Friday, January 7, 2011


I feel the need to clarify my last post.  If, you do not feel the need for any clarification, then please stop reading now.

I hesitated to write my iPhone drama as it would not seem to be very serious to some of you and could come across as whiny to others.  In both cases I would agree.  What I wanted to express was my complete frustration on losing this insanely nice phone, and also how now I am filled with iPhone-envy.

Brandon had an iPhone for 2 years before he bought me mine. Periodically he would ask me if I wanted an iPhone and I always said "NO". Obvious reasons listed below. I did not want an iPhone, feel the need for an iPhone, or care that I did not have an iPhone.  I was content with my phone and, as I mentioned before, LOVED my ringtone. Silly, I know, but every time I heard Pierce Brosnan sing "SOS" I would smile.

But then I received this insane phone that I quickly fell in love with.  Everything about it I loved, except that I could not get the same ringtone on the iPhone. I could get ABBA singing "SOS", but that was not right.

Losing that phone has thrown me into a tailspin. On one hand I am literally sick with the thought that I simply lost that phone. I can remember the exact moment I last had it in my hand, and I believe placed it on top of the car, I can remember the chaos of the boys, the battle of wills I was engaged in, and the stress of the event I was headed into.  I can not stop thinking about that moment and wishing I had done something different.

I am also now filled with iPhone-envy. Before I had my phone I remember standing with a group of friends discussing how everyone had an iPhone but them. I was fine, it didn't bother me. But now I am consumed with want. I want my iPhone back.  I do realize how shallow and selfish that makes me and am working on looking at my new/old phone with deep appreciation.

Yesterday at lunch, I was once again, dare I say complaining, about my slow, sad, iPhone.  My husband jumped in with, "I had that phone for 2 years and it was fine". At which point I asked (as he held his iPhone 4 in his hand): "Would you like to trade for the day? I will take your phone, and you can have mine?" No, was his quick reply.

I didn't think so.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Pride Comes Before A Fall

Sometime this summer my husband mentioned wanting to buy me an iPhone. He was going to upgrade his phone and he was thinking of getting two. Please don't, I said, I am not trustworthy with expensive gadgets.  I've lost 2 pairs of sunglasses, an inheritance check, let my cell phone be a chew toy for a cranky baby, and somehow managed to lose the eyeglasses I was wearing.  Do not give me an expensive phone I will be in constant fear of losing.

I also had always thought it was kind of silly to have an iPhone. If I had a full-time job, one where you got paid, and it was useful to my job, sure. But in my day to day life I was getting along just fine with my phone. I had changed my ringtone to Pierce Brosnan singing "SOS", and I had finally figured out texting. I was good to go. I used my husband's iPhone on trips but just to check email and the occasional facebook update.

But then the phone arrived. It was smaller then the iPhone 3, it was a little sleeker - if that is even a word.  I got a turquoise blue cover and fell absolutely in love with my phone.  It didn't matter that I could barely use it. The first couple of months I swore there was something wrong with the touch screen as I was constantly hanging up on people.  It took me some time to figure out how to work that little machine, but once I did I fell absolutely in love with it.

I pulled out my phone everywhere I went: grocery store, parks, camping trips, even while driving (reason why it is good I lost it).  I used the map to get everywhere, even places I had been before. I became hooked on solitare and hearts - perfect games to play while the kids are taking baths.  The phone became my addiction.

I even became, shall I say, 'cocky' about my phone. I would check out other peoples' phones and check for round edges or square edges. Round ones, huh? Well, let's just see mine: Oh, that's right it is an iPhone 4. So much more powerful than yours (I don't know if that is true, just my thoughts at the time).

Then the dreaded day came. The day I lost my phone. Actually, the 2nd time I lost my phone. The first time it was returned to me at Costco, this time the ending is not happy.  The same day of the matches incident with my middle child, I had to go to a place to look at 600 nativity sets. Yes, 600. This was a no-touch place, and I was taking all 3 of my extremely well-behaved children (and my MIL). Needless to the say it was a little stressful. By the time we got back in the car and I was pulling out, I thought, "where is my phone?" I couldn't find it but it is always in the bottom of my purse. No worries. But when I got home it wasn't there.  I called the place I had been, I even drove back and retraced my steps, but no luck.

For a week I went phone-less, in hopes of having my iPhone returned to me. Every time the phone rang, I held my breath hoping to hear "your phone has been found!".  None of that happened. My husband did receive an old iPhone from his brother and he gave that to me. I had thought that nothing could be as bad as having an iPhone 4 and going back to your normal cell phone. I was wrong.  Going back to an old, slow, iPhone 3, is way, way, worse.

I know this is silly. I know I need to be thankful to have a phone, especially an iPhone. I really do know this, but every time I see my husband's phone, a little bit of jealousy eats at my soul. It doesn't help that his phone is permanently attached to him: movie times - check iPhone, weather - check iPhone, change the channel on the TV - check iPhone, rules for bananagrams - yep, check iPhone.

I am thankful for my phone, the new turquoise case helps, and one day I will look back on this and laugh. Just not quite yet.