A few months ago, my MIL took me into her bedroom and asked if she could show me something. Now, if you have heard my terrible lingerie story, you could imagine my fear and trepidation as I followed her into her room. I was getting ready to explain that I did not want any more used underwear when she pulled out a brown purse. A very nice brown purse, one that I had seen her use and admired.
"Do you want this purse" she asked me.
I tried to think of a catch, what could it possibly hurt to take her very nice, seldom used, purse. So, I took it and said thank you, and was about to chalk this up as a good interaction with my MIL when it all went downhill.
"Oh, good," she says, "that purse was always too big for me. I'm glad it fits you."
What? Purses are now sized to fit people? I just absently smiled and nodded and thought, whatever, it's a nice purse. Little did I know the trap I had just set foot in.
A few months later I was visiting with my MIL when she once again asks if I would like something of hers. She pulls out a gray wool sweater and has me try it on. It's a little boxy, a little big, but can be closed with a giant pin. Since our house is so cold, I figured it was a good layering piece for when I am at home. I thanked her and took it.
Just recently, I was back again at my MIL's house, and sure enough she had some more clothes to give me. This time it was two denim jackets. I put the first one on, it was okay, a different style then I usually wear, but I figured it would be good for work. I put on the second one and thought, oh no, this one doesn't fit at all. My MIL follows me into the bathroom (which is a big no-no) and says how nice it looks. I reply that I thought it looked too big. That's the way it is supposed to be she informs me. As I go to put the jackets in my car she says: "I'm so glad you can fit into my clothes, I hate to give away all my clothes to the Goodwill, just because they are too big for me."
You see, this past year my MIL has lost weight. This is a good thing, I know, except for the constant comments about how much she has lost, what size she is now, and then of course the off-hand comments about my size. I can usually just laugh it off, but after being asked recently if I was having a girl, and when I said I wasn't pregnant, getting an unusually long stare; I may be a little sensitive to my current size.
Things were going along just fine, until our recent weekend trip with my in-laws. After a souvenir shopping trip with my sister-in-law, my MIL came back giddy. They had such a good time, went into all the stores, yadda yadda yadda. They even tried on some clothes. And, oh how cute those clothes were. At which point she will go into great length describing each shirt she tried on. But, oh how sad, none of them fit her or my sister-in-law. They were just TOO big.
At which point she says, "Amy, we wished you were shopping with us because we knew the clothes would fit you!" With a great big smile, like, isn't that so great??! They would fit me because I am so big? Is that what you are saying?
This conversation would be repeated 4 more times over the next 24 hours. I am not exaggerating. After the 4th time of being told that none of the clothes were small enough for my MIL or SIL, but they would surely fit me, I had a headache and was feeling vaguely nauseous. I crafted an excellent comeback, in the event that the conversation would be repeated again. Of course, it wasn't and now I sit here on my couch, eating carrots for lunch, wishing I had never taken that purse in the first place.
Except that I do really like the purse. Sigh.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Sister Wives Take Seaside
This Memorial Day marked the 9th trip we have taken to Seaside, Or. Any long time readers of this blog will surely remember this post on Seaside, and this one, and even this one. Seaside is such a big deal to me and my family that I forget some people do not even know where Seaside is. When asked my plans for Memorial Day I respond: "We are going to Seaside". And in that statement I assume the other person knows the history and the importance of this place. I will not rehash it here, I assume if you are reading this you most likely know me and have heard many times why we go to Seaside.
The first year my sisters and I were 27, 26, and 22, respectively. My niece and nephew were 5 and 7 years old. Besides having amazing weather, this weekend felt like freedom. Freedom from work, responsibilities, parents (sorry mom!) and even spouses. The sisters picked the food, the activities and the time frame. D & L were great sports about the weekend and just loved the freedom to eat as much taffy and junk food as they wanted. We have never had weather as nice as that weekend. I truly believe that if our first trip had not been so blissfully beautiful, we would never have returned. The second year it rained, and I mean rained. We caved on the "no car" rule and drove to the movies, went to a flea market, and I think that is the year we did the aquarium. We still went to the beach but we were wet and cold.
We have had some good years and some not so good years (rain, obviously) since that first trip. Our group has grown from 5 people to 12. We first added my mom and Jack, they both took their first trip to Seaside together. My mom at 50something, Jack at 8 weeks. Then Micah and Rory joined the group. Last year we added 3 out of the 4 spouses and 2 more kids. This year only 1 spouse asked to return.
This year was a good year. It really truly was. Leaving the beach for a hotel in-town was a little scary but the rooms were so clean and the pool was so warm. Bringing just Brandon as the sole spouse was very nerve-racking, how would that change the dynamics of the group? Last year we started having an itinerary, was that a good thing or is it just my anal personality pushing through.
This year we made space. We have been very stubborn about Seaside. What we did the first weekend (minus the 3rd night restaurant) is what we do every year. Long boring souvenir shopping, check; taffy from the candyman, check; ice cream every night, double check; tilt-a-whirl immediately following the ice cream, check; dinner at Norma's and Pizza Harbor, already drooling for next year; sitting on the beach rain or shine, check and check.
The first morning there my older sister suggested moving pizza to Sunday and going to that Mexican restaurant on Saturday night. 'That' restaurant being the one Brandon has been lusting after since last year. I have to be honest, my first thought was no!, but then (as long as Pizza Harbor was open on Sunday) I realized that would be a nice gesture. Letting Brandon choose a restaurant he was interested in and not being told "you eat what you eat and you don't throw a fit". We ended up at a place that was quite sketch but the best Mexican any of us has ever had. And after calling and checking in person, we had confirmation that pizza would be open on Sunday.
Walking out I thought she was right. Sitting and sipping coffee with my sisters in our favorite seaside town is magical.
The first year my sisters and I were 27, 26, and 22, respectively. My niece and nephew were 5 and 7 years old. Besides having amazing weather, this weekend felt like freedom. Freedom from work, responsibilities, parents (sorry mom!) and even spouses. The sisters picked the food, the activities and the time frame. D & L were great sports about the weekend and just loved the freedom to eat as much taffy and junk food as they wanted. We have never had weather as nice as that weekend. I truly believe that if our first trip had not been so blissfully beautiful, we would never have returned. The second year it rained, and I mean rained. We caved on the "no car" rule and drove to the movies, went to a flea market, and I think that is the year we did the aquarium. We still went to the beach but we were wet and cold.
We have had some good years and some not so good years (rain, obviously) since that first trip. Our group has grown from 5 people to 12. We first added my mom and Jack, they both took their first trip to Seaside together. My mom at 50something, Jack at 8 weeks. Then Micah and Rory joined the group. Last year we added 3 out of the 4 spouses and 2 more kids. This year only 1 spouse asked to return.
This year was a good year. It really truly was. Leaving the beach for a hotel in-town was a little scary but the rooms were so clean and the pool was so warm. Bringing just Brandon as the sole spouse was very nerve-racking, how would that change the dynamics of the group? Last year we started having an itinerary, was that a good thing or is it just my anal personality pushing through.
This year we made space. We have been very stubborn about Seaside. What we did the first weekend (minus the 3rd night restaurant) is what we do every year. Long boring souvenir shopping, check; taffy from the candyman, check; ice cream every night, double check; tilt-a-whirl immediately following the ice cream, check; dinner at Norma's and Pizza Harbor, already drooling for next year; sitting on the beach rain or shine, check and check.
The first morning there my older sister suggested moving pizza to Sunday and going to that Mexican restaurant on Saturday night. 'That' restaurant being the one Brandon has been lusting after since last year. I have to be honest, my first thought was no!, but then (as long as Pizza Harbor was open on Sunday) I realized that would be a nice gesture. Letting Brandon choose a restaurant he was interested in and not being told "you eat what you eat and you don't throw a fit". We ended up at a place that was quite sketch but the best Mexican any of us has ever had. And after calling and checking in person, we had confirmation that pizza would be open on Sunday.
Taking my mom and at least one spouse has also given us something new: sister time. Early Sunday morning my sisters and I throw on clothes, hats, and glasses and walk to get coffee. Last year was a good 20 minute walk, this year we found a new coffee shop much closer to our hotel. We ordered coffee and pastries and then sat down to talk. I knew it was going to be a good time when I heard this song on the radio. After about an hour we knew it was time to head back. Kids, mom, and one lone husband, waited for us to return. As we stood up to leave the owner of the coffee shop said, "I'm jealous. What I just saw was magical".
Walking out I thought she was right. Sitting and sipping coffee with my sisters in our favorite seaside town is magical.
Only 360 more days and we will be back in Seaside. Can't wait.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
And Here It Is..
The outfit that caused all the chaos in the previous post. I was going for a bad-tourist type look. When Jack saw me come down the stairs he said, "Mom you look gorgeous". I think he was just shocked to see my legs.
We did win best couple costume, totally made up for the shopping experience. Plus, look at how sexy my man looks in his shorts, socks, and dress shoes. Don't bother ladies, he's mine.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
All For a $12 Outfit
Today we were "those people" in a store, the ones that you covertly or even just openly stare at, as you walk by. Or just stop what you are doing and open mouth stare. Seriously, we were "those people" today. We were the people with the screaming baby that could be heard from one end of the store to the other. We were also the people that the employees had to talk to about cart safety. And of course, we were those people that strangers felt the need to stop and return your child to you.
Where did all of this occur? At Value Village, of all places. Really the one place I go to where I think (in a slightly snobby way) that I am a little bit better then most of the other patrons. I am there because I am saving the environment, buying used clothes, not because we couldn't buy new things, we choose not too. *ahem*
But today as we finally left the store, mass destruction left behind, red faced from embarrassment, I had to admit I was no better then the overweight old man wearing green skinny denim jeans.
It started off pretty well. Jack went to a playdate so I only had two the boys with me. We love to go to Value Village or the Goodwill because the boys always get to play with the toys when we are done shopping. Unfortunately today I was on a mission, a clothes shopping mission. I needed to find a cool/unusual outfit for under $12 to wear to a party this weekend. No problem, I thought. I was wrong. Most of the ugly things that caught my eye were at the top of my budget, some were even over it. I was very discouraged. I finally found some black velvet knickers (yes, knickers) that I thought would be HILARIOUS, a little black dress, a very cool strapless green cotton dress, and a denim skirt with lace overlay. Obviously, I had not fully formed the idea of what my outfit should be. I just grabbed anything I thought might work and threw it in the cart, knowing my chances of a return visit to the dressing room were slim.
For Brandon I wanted him to have a cheesy, Guido-type shirt. Kind of shiny and slime-ball all at the same time. But it also had to match mine. Think high school Tolo. I didn't find anything I really wanted for Brandon but I did find a stash of bad Hawaiian shirts, that would do. By this time the boys had heard enough "we'll go to the toys next" and were not quite believing me anymore. I went to the dressing rooms and right before I went in, an older woman went into the large dressing room and shut the door. No kids, no stroller, no wheel chair, no walker, no reason at all to be in the ONLY normal size dressing room. I was left going into one that was only slightly wider then then a door.
As soon as I shut the door and turned to lock it, I realized I was in for a doozy of a time. The 'lock' was just a large plastic lever you pushed up or down. Very easy for a 23 month old to reach up and undo. And of course, the door swings open very easily. I imagined myself standing with my butt for all the store to see as the door swings open and a very sneaky toddler makes an escape.
I pushed the boys in and tried to get them to sit on the floor (disgusting I know, but at least they weren't eating gum off of it like last time) while I very quickly tried on the clothes, all while blocking any chance of escape. Micah sat down fine, Finn on the other hand, would have none of it. As soon as the door closed he started screaming. Not crying, but full out screaming. At one point I tried to move him over and hit his head on the mirror. I swear to god it sounded like I was hitting him, and of course he screamed even louder. I knew I had 5 minutes max, but I had to try on some of these clothes. I quickly decided there was no way I was going to take off the majority of my clothes. Luckily, I was wearing a tank top and decided I could just try the dresses on over it.
The black one went on okay, but didn't zip up. That was too bad because I really liked it. Next I tried on the strapless cotton dress. By this time, Finn was crawling between my legs and out under the door, all while still screaming. I would grab him by the feet, drag him back, and continue to struggle into the dress. In an attempt to calm Finn, I had given my iPhone to Micah to watch cartoons on. He was in love, but Finn was not having it.
I finally got the dress on, adjusted it everywhere and turned to look in the mirror. Odd, but it looked like I had a uni-boob. Seriously. I tried to see if I could change it or adjust it a little to make it fit better, but it wasn't going to budge. This is about when I hit Finn's head on the mirror, total accident I swear, but those dressing rooms are not made for 3 bodies.
Finn was a hysterical mess and determined to get out. He had already succeeded in unlatching teh door and was now determined to climb under it. I went to pull off the dress only to find it stuck. Seriously stuck. I couldn't get it to go over my top half, so I decided to try to push it off. No luck, still stuck. Finn sensed a weakness in the line of defense and was finally able to break free.
Finn realizes the grass is not greener on the other side and begins to scream even harder. I am wrestling with this ridiculous dress, and Micah is watching Mickey Mouse at a volume of 11. I finally manage to jerk the dress over my head, throw my shirt on, and open the door to Finn. As soon as I do, he stops crying. He wants to come back in and sit with Micah now. I can't stomach the thought of trying on more clothes, but the ones so far that I have tried on, are not working out so well.
On our next attempt at trying on clothes, a store employee said we could go into the big one with the cart and all. That was a much better experience and I was able to find a shirt that would work. Still needed a skirt, but I was at least 1/4 of the way there! While finding a coordinating outfit for Brandon, Finn ran away and was brought back by a very tall, older gentleman, who I kept seeing wandering the store. Micah was told by an employee to not climb out of the cart because the cart could tip over. I actually had to tell her that has happened to us. By this time, I just threw a skirt into the cart and called my outfit done.
On the way to check out, I let the boys pick out a prize. They had done pretty well, all things considered, and they really wanted these water gun things. As I waited in line, Micah decides he needs a different color, goes back to put his away and when he turns around knocks over an entire display shelf. It was a huge mess, one that was obviously caused by us as Micah started crying and running toward me. By now, I was red, sweating, and feeling like I should be asked to leave. What else could we possibly do to this store?
When at last we were rung up the cashier smiled and said, "Have a Nice Day!". I felt like I needed to apologize, leave a tip, do something, but I just mumbled "You, too" and quickly rushed the boys outside.
On the way home, we stopped at a park to enjoy the sun, have a few moments of fun, and try to regain some semblance of control. As I was leaning into the van to unbuckle Finn, the sprinklers right behind me turned on. Before I could jump out of the way, my entire backside was sprayed (at close range) by the sprinklers. So here I am at a fairly crowded park with a soaking wet butt. Karma, maybe?
Where did all of this occur? At Value Village, of all places. Really the one place I go to where I think (in a slightly snobby way) that I am a little bit better then most of the other patrons. I am there because I am saving the environment, buying used clothes, not because we couldn't buy new things, we choose not too. *ahem*
But today as we finally left the store, mass destruction left behind, red faced from embarrassment, I had to admit I was no better then the overweight old man wearing green skinny denim jeans.
It started off pretty well. Jack went to a playdate so I only had two the boys with me. We love to go to Value Village or the Goodwill because the boys always get to play with the toys when we are done shopping. Unfortunately today I was on a mission, a clothes shopping mission. I needed to find a cool/unusual outfit for under $12 to wear to a party this weekend. No problem, I thought. I was wrong. Most of the ugly things that caught my eye were at the top of my budget, some were even over it. I was very discouraged. I finally found some black velvet knickers (yes, knickers) that I thought would be HILARIOUS, a little black dress, a very cool strapless green cotton dress, and a denim skirt with lace overlay. Obviously, I had not fully formed the idea of what my outfit should be. I just grabbed anything I thought might work and threw it in the cart, knowing my chances of a return visit to the dressing room were slim.
For Brandon I wanted him to have a cheesy, Guido-type shirt. Kind of shiny and slime-ball all at the same time. But it also had to match mine. Think high school Tolo. I didn't find anything I really wanted for Brandon but I did find a stash of bad Hawaiian shirts, that would do. By this time the boys had heard enough "we'll go to the toys next" and were not quite believing me anymore. I went to the dressing rooms and right before I went in, an older woman went into the large dressing room and shut the door. No kids, no stroller, no wheel chair, no walker, no reason at all to be in the ONLY normal size dressing room. I was left going into one that was only slightly wider then then a door.
As soon as I shut the door and turned to lock it, I realized I was in for a doozy of a time. The 'lock' was just a large plastic lever you pushed up or down. Very easy for a 23 month old to reach up and undo. And of course, the door swings open very easily. I imagined myself standing with my butt for all the store to see as the door swings open and a very sneaky toddler makes an escape.
I pushed the boys in and tried to get them to sit on the floor (disgusting I know, but at least they weren't eating gum off of it like last time) while I very quickly tried on the clothes, all while blocking any chance of escape. Micah sat down fine, Finn on the other hand, would have none of it. As soon as the door closed he started screaming. Not crying, but full out screaming. At one point I tried to move him over and hit his head on the mirror. I swear to god it sounded like I was hitting him, and of course he screamed even louder. I knew I had 5 minutes max, but I had to try on some of these clothes. I quickly decided there was no way I was going to take off the majority of my clothes. Luckily, I was wearing a tank top and decided I could just try the dresses on over it.
The black one went on okay, but didn't zip up. That was too bad because I really liked it. Next I tried on the strapless cotton dress. By this time, Finn was crawling between my legs and out under the door, all while still screaming. I would grab him by the feet, drag him back, and continue to struggle into the dress. In an attempt to calm Finn, I had given my iPhone to Micah to watch cartoons on. He was in love, but Finn was not having it.
I finally got the dress on, adjusted it everywhere and turned to look in the mirror. Odd, but it looked like I had a uni-boob. Seriously. I tried to see if I could change it or adjust it a little to make it fit better, but it wasn't going to budge. This is about when I hit Finn's head on the mirror, total accident I swear, but those dressing rooms are not made for 3 bodies.
Finn was a hysterical mess and determined to get out. He had already succeeded in unlatching teh door and was now determined to climb under it. I went to pull off the dress only to find it stuck. Seriously stuck. I couldn't get it to go over my top half, so I decided to try to push it off. No luck, still stuck. Finn sensed a weakness in the line of defense and was finally able to break free.
Finn realizes the grass is not greener on the other side and begins to scream even harder. I am wrestling with this ridiculous dress, and Micah is watching Mickey Mouse at a volume of 11. I finally manage to jerk the dress over my head, throw my shirt on, and open the door to Finn. As soon as I do, he stops crying. He wants to come back in and sit with Micah now. I can't stomach the thought of trying on more clothes, but the ones so far that I have tried on, are not working out so well.
On our next attempt at trying on clothes, a store employee said we could go into the big one with the cart and all. That was a much better experience and I was able to find a shirt that would work. Still needed a skirt, but I was at least 1/4 of the way there! While finding a coordinating outfit for Brandon, Finn ran away and was brought back by a very tall, older gentleman, who I kept seeing wandering the store. Micah was told by an employee to not climb out of the cart because the cart could tip over. I actually had to tell her that has happened to us. By this time, I just threw a skirt into the cart and called my outfit done.
On the way to check out, I let the boys pick out a prize. They had done pretty well, all things considered, and they really wanted these water gun things. As I waited in line, Micah decides he needs a different color, goes back to put his away and when he turns around knocks over an entire display shelf. It was a huge mess, one that was obviously caused by us as Micah started crying and running toward me. By now, I was red, sweating, and feeling like I should be asked to leave. What else could we possibly do to this store?
When at last we were rung up the cashier smiled and said, "Have a Nice Day!". I felt like I needed to apologize, leave a tip, do something, but I just mumbled "You, too" and quickly rushed the boys outside.
On the way home, we stopped at a park to enjoy the sun, have a few moments of fun, and try to regain some semblance of control. As I was leaning into the van to unbuckle Finn, the sprinklers right behind me turned on. Before I could jump out of the way, my entire backside was sprayed (at close range) by the sprinklers. So here I am at a fairly crowded park with a soaking wet butt. Karma, maybe?
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Love These Boys
The week before Mother's Day the preschool calendar is full of things like: 'Shh.. don't tell', 'Secret Projects', 'Special Surprises Go Home'. The first year it was very exciting, by the 4th year, I knew what to expect. Especially because the preschool does the exact same craft every year. Since Jack was finishing his second year of Pre-K I was not very surprised to think of what they were making in class this week.
Micah is the first to come home with a Mother's Day surprise. He comes down the stairs on Wednesday proudly caring a paper bag covered in gold glitter. "Can I play outside" is all he says to me before throwing said present, backpack and coat at me.
In the car on the way home Micah asks me if I like candy. Oh yes, I tell him. Chocolate candy, he asks. Umm, not so much, I say. That's okay, he tells me, I can share the candy with him. What candy? The candy he put in my cup he made. The Mother's Day surprise, that he is not supposed to talk about? I quickly tell him that is okay I don't want to know.
Once we get home Micah runs into the house, I quickly unload Finn, but before I am even inside I hear Micah yell. "Can I have this candy?" As I step foot in the house I see that he has unwrapped my gift, opened the coffee mug, and is pulling out the candy inside. I quickly pick it up, stuff it all back into the bag and tell him this is not his gift to open. Much crying ensues.
Jack comes home on Friday and quickly disappears. In the chaos of lunch, and getting boys down for naps, I don't really notice. He brings me some drawings he did at school and talks a little about the day before becoming quiet. "I have a surprise for you" he tells me. For Mother's Day, I ask. "I hid it." He says, "In a secret spot." I just nod and continue feeding kids, cleaning up, putting kids to bed. As I walk past the playroom, I see Jack doing something sneaky at the play kitchen. It looks like he is hiding something. This usually means they have snuck off with my phone or have found the hidden candy stash. I quickly jump in with a stern "What are YOU doing?" Jack says nothing, but won't move his hands from where they are behind his back. "Are you hiding something?" I ask. He nods.
Then it hits me. It is his Mother's Day present. He does not want me to even see the card he made so when he first got home he snuck it out of his backpack, and hid it in the house before I could even see it. I quickly nodded at him and moved on.
Saturday morning is when we celebrate Mother's Day. Sunday is too rushed with church and lots of "Please let's be on time for once!" Saturday I get pancakes in bed and the ability to wake up slowly. This morning I am half asleep with a pillow over my head when I hear the door open and little feet. "Happy Mother's Day" Jack whispers as he hands me the gift he made. The card is a hand print signed with his name. Inside the bag is a soap dispenser with his picture in it. I will add it to the soap dispenser from last year.
"Do you like it" Jack asks. I love it, I tell him, it is just what I wanted. More then the 3rd coffee mug or the 2nd soap dispenser, I love these boys. Micah can't wait to let me open my present (he doesn't even really care if I open it) he is desperate to get to that candy. Jack hides the present himself and brings it up to me along with my pancakes and coffee.
One is tall, skinny, sensitive, caring; the other is not as blessed height-wise, solid, athletic, funny and sweet. They both melt my heart when they throw their arms around me and whisper, "I love you". These are my boys and I am truly blessed.
Micah is the first to come home with a Mother's Day surprise. He comes down the stairs on Wednesday proudly caring a paper bag covered in gold glitter. "Can I play outside" is all he says to me before throwing said present, backpack and coat at me.
In the car on the way home Micah asks me if I like candy. Oh yes, I tell him. Chocolate candy, he asks. Umm, not so much, I say. That's okay, he tells me, I can share the candy with him. What candy? The candy he put in my cup he made. The Mother's Day surprise, that he is not supposed to talk about? I quickly tell him that is okay I don't want to know.
Once we get home Micah runs into the house, I quickly unload Finn, but before I am even inside I hear Micah yell. "Can I have this candy?" As I step foot in the house I see that he has unwrapped my gift, opened the coffee mug, and is pulling out the candy inside. I quickly pick it up, stuff it all back into the bag and tell him this is not his gift to open. Much crying ensues.
Jack comes home on Friday and quickly disappears. In the chaos of lunch, and getting boys down for naps, I don't really notice. He brings me some drawings he did at school and talks a little about the day before becoming quiet. "I have a surprise for you" he tells me. For Mother's Day, I ask. "I hid it." He says, "In a secret spot." I just nod and continue feeding kids, cleaning up, putting kids to bed. As I walk past the playroom, I see Jack doing something sneaky at the play kitchen. It looks like he is hiding something. This usually means they have snuck off with my phone or have found the hidden candy stash. I quickly jump in with a stern "What are YOU doing?" Jack says nothing, but won't move his hands from where they are behind his back. "Are you hiding something?" I ask. He nods.
Then it hits me. It is his Mother's Day present. He does not want me to even see the card he made so when he first got home he snuck it out of his backpack, and hid it in the house before I could even see it. I quickly nodded at him and moved on.
Saturday morning is when we celebrate Mother's Day. Sunday is too rushed with church and lots of "Please let's be on time for once!" Saturday I get pancakes in bed and the ability to wake up slowly. This morning I am half asleep with a pillow over my head when I hear the door open and little feet. "Happy Mother's Day" Jack whispers as he hands me the gift he made. The card is a hand print signed with his name. Inside the bag is a soap dispenser with his picture in it. I will add it to the soap dispenser from last year.
"Do you like it" Jack asks. I love it, I tell him, it is just what I wanted. More then the 3rd coffee mug or the 2nd soap dispenser, I love these boys. Micah can't wait to let me open my present (he doesn't even really care if I open it) he is desperate to get to that candy. Jack hides the present himself and brings it up to me along with my pancakes and coffee.
One is tall, skinny, sensitive, caring; the other is not as blessed height-wise, solid, athletic, funny and sweet. They both melt my heart when they throw their arms around me and whisper, "I love you". These are my boys and I am truly blessed.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Finally Four
Two years ago I wrote this, apparently Micah has been waiting a looong time to truly be 4. The very first thing he said to me when he walked down the stairs was, "am I 4?" Since Micah was born at 1:16 AM he truly is four years old.
For some reason Micah's birth still brings me to tears. I don't know if it was that it was in the middle of the night, that I was convinced the baby was a girl named Mae, or that I had my 2 sisters at the hospital with me. Before Micah went to bed the night before his birthday we looked at pictures of him being born (on the computer of course, I am a 'wee' bit behind on his baby book) and watched videos of him just minutes old. It was truly a magical event.
And apparently, I really wanted a third child. You can hear in the background of one of the videos me telling my sisters that of course I will have another, I still need a daughter. Didn't get a daughter, but one of the silliest boys I know. Can't imagine life without Finn.
Micah is so much more low key then his older brother. Jack cries that Micah gets the first pancake. "You can have it" Micah tells him. Opening presents Micah looks to Jack to see if he wants to open it or even play with it. But when he opened his first Lego kit he said "my very own Legos!" It was awesome to see how excited he was. Micah choose Mexican as his birthday dinner, partly because Jack wanted the little roll up tortillas they only make at dinner time.
The thought I kept having on Micah's birthday was about the ages of the boys. I looked at Micah, just turning 4, then I looked at Finn, almost 2, and then I looked at Brandon and said: "WHAT WERE WE THINKING??"" When Jack was 4, and Micah was 2, I was 7 months pregnant. For the first (and probably only time) I will say I am glad I am not pregnant. My heart still breaks a little to know I am done having babies, but the sane part of me is enjoying this new stage. The ability to walk out the door with only a diaper and wipes in my purse. No car-seat carrier, stroller, hooter hider, baby Bjorn, or diaper bag in sight.
For some reason Micah's birth still brings me to tears. I don't know if it was that it was in the middle of the night, that I was convinced the baby was a girl named Mae, or that I had my 2 sisters at the hospital with me. Before Micah went to bed the night before his birthday we looked at pictures of him being born (on the computer of course, I am a 'wee' bit behind on his baby book) and watched videos of him just minutes old. It was truly a magical event.
And apparently, I really wanted a third child. You can hear in the background of one of the videos me telling my sisters that of course I will have another, I still need a daughter. Didn't get a daughter, but one of the silliest boys I know. Can't imagine life without Finn.
Micah is so much more low key then his older brother. Jack cries that Micah gets the first pancake. "You can have it" Micah tells him. Opening presents Micah looks to Jack to see if he wants to open it or even play with it. But when he opened his first Lego kit he said "my very own Legos!" It was awesome to see how excited he was. Micah choose Mexican as his birthday dinner, partly because Jack wanted the little roll up tortillas they only make at dinner time.
The thought I kept having on Micah's birthday was about the ages of the boys. I looked at Micah, just turning 4, then I looked at Finn, almost 2, and then I looked at Brandon and said: "WHAT WERE WE THINKING??"" When Jack was 4, and Micah was 2, I was 7 months pregnant. For the first (and probably only time) I will say I am glad I am not pregnant. My heart still breaks a little to know I am done having babies, but the sane part of me is enjoying this new stage. The ability to walk out the door with only a diaper and wipes in my purse. No car-seat carrier, stroller, hooter hider, baby Bjorn, or diaper bag in sight.
The Birthday Boy leaving preschool
His special friend from school helping to celebrate his birthday
Micah really loves fire
Birthday morning - love this boy's hair
His very own down vest, just like Daddy's
A boys only trip to the zoo
Can't you just see them behind the wheel of a car?
Be afraid, be very afraid
Happy, Happy, Birthday Micah!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Space
I am feeling much better now. I will admit when I wrote that last post I was in a pretty cranky mood. The worst part was the actual event with my husband had happened a week or two prior, but obviously, I still had some issues.
But now I am doing better, really I am. I think the reason is I have had a chance to have some space. Space from a lot of things it turns out.
Space from work, as I had Spring Break, which meant a Monday that I did not have to hit the ground running. A day to sit back and enjoy being home.
Space from the kids. A weekend away, even though it ended with a kid puking, but still some solid hours kid-free. Time on Saturday mornings that I am out of the house by 9:30. While that sounded early and stressful, the reality is, I am so happy to have some time to myself.
Space from vomit. Finally we have been a week without anyone throwing up. I couldn't be happier.
Space from the rain. I'm not sure if I would be this happy if I had not just had 2 beautiful days with sun shining. I did not realize how much I was missing the sun, and the hints of Spring, until I was on a walk this week. The rain was gone, the sun was poking through, and I caught the first scent of Spring on the air. It was magical.
A little space was good. I can't promise that I will be the best nurse to my spouse in the future, but I will try. Um, maybe.
But now I am doing better, really I am. I think the reason is I have had a chance to have some space. Space from a lot of things it turns out.
Space from work, as I had Spring Break, which meant a Monday that I did not have to hit the ground running. A day to sit back and enjoy being home.
Space from the kids. A weekend away, even though it ended with a kid puking, but still some solid hours kid-free. Time on Saturday mornings that I am out of the house by 9:30. While that sounded early and stressful, the reality is, I am so happy to have some time to myself.
Space from vomit. Finally we have been a week without anyone throwing up. I couldn't be happier.
Space from the rain. I'm not sure if I would be this happy if I had not just had 2 beautiful days with sun shining. I did not realize how much I was missing the sun, and the hints of Spring, until I was on a walk this week. The rain was gone, the sun was poking through, and I caught the first scent of Spring on the air. It was magical.
A little space was good. I can't promise that I will be the best nurse to my spouse in the future, but I will try. Um, maybe.
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