Archive for the ‘Favorites’ Category
September 27 2010
Whatever my kids were passing around the last few weeks, I caught this past weekend. I spent Saturday trying in vain to ward off a sore throat, coming down with chills by the time I ventured to bed. When Sunday rolled around, I was depleted. My throat hurt something fierce and, barely able to sleep the night previous, I was truly exhausted.
It’s very seldom I take naps during the day. Someone has to be up to watch the kids, obviously, and there’s too much to do. But on weekends, when the husband is home, I tend to pass on the opportunity because it doesn’t achieve a lot of satisfaction. Kids are screaming at me from outside the door and there’s too much noise, along with my mind running a mile a minute with a laundry list of items I still need to finish. If I do manage a couple minutes of shut-eye, I only feel worse after. It’s not worth it.
Except it was worth it yesterday, when I was just so tired I could barely stay awake at 2 in the afternoon. Making it to bedtime without a brief repose would be impossible.
Finding a quiet moment to lie down, I nestled my head against the pillow, relishing in the comfort. I was so close to sleep when I heard him run in the room.
“Mommy… Mommy!… MOMMY!”, progressively louder.
I opened my eyes to find Jedi standing at the foot of the bed. “What?”, I muttered.
“I have to go potty!”
Ah, the sweet sounds my dreams are made of.
August 25 2010
We were standing at the corner of the street, waiting for Jedi’s yellow carriage to emerge. I had gotten us there early, because I wanted to make sure we arrived in time to see him home. I now know that I didn’t need to worry, as his bus wouldn’t come for another 30 minutes.
To pass the minutes by, and to give my sweating hand a rest, I told Buzz to sit. Take a break. Play in the overgrown grass. He found a stick and began raking through the bug-laden yard in need of mowing. Around us, butterflies continued to flutter. That’s when I bent down and saw a swarm of them, basking in the summer sun, scaling tall blades of swaying green.
Caterpillars. Black and white, in varying sizes. There had to be at least 6 in that immediate patch of grass.
“Look Buzz! Caterpillars!”, I showed him.
“Caterpillars”, he repeated softly, concentrating on the new find.
“Caterpillars turn into butterflies”, I informed studiously, as one danced above our head and another at our feet.
We spent the next few minutes poking gently at the caterpillars, watching as they spread their elongated bodies against the picturesque blue skies, ready and waiting for the day when they develop their wings. Small changes at first, but then it happens so quick.
Soon after, the bus pulled up, carrying my oldest son. My once helplessly dependent baby, who’s also shedding his cocoon, morphing into a glorious butterfly.
July 19 2010
It starts first thing as the sun rises through the window blinds.
“Mommy!”, she whines upon waking.
I walk in to lift her up, good morning. “Mommy”, she whispers softly. Not long after, her brothers stumble in, too, crowding around me in the chair with bed head and sleepy eyes. Elbows and knees poking into sides. “Mommy, what day is it?”, Jedi asks, curious. “Mommy, how many days until the weekend? Mommy, I had a dream. Do you want to hear about my dream, Mommy?”
“Mommy, I’m hungry”, they demand in a rare form of unity. I fix waffles or pancakes or omelets. Some days, when it’s already too much, it’s merely Pop Tarts. I fill three cups with milk. It’s briefly still while their mouths are full and then it begins again.
“Mommy, he’s hitting me! Mommy, make him stop! Mommy, she scratched me!”
Mommy, help. Mommy, sit. Mommy, boo-boo. Look at this, Mommy. Buzz is a bear, Mommy. Mommy, come here. Can I play video games, Mommy? How long until Daddy comes home, Mommy? Mommy, what are we having for dinner? Can we watch Toy Story, Mommy? Come watch with us, Mommy. Mommy, what are you doing? Do you see my belly button, Mommy? Mommy, I’m thirsty again. Do you remember when we went to the zoo, Mommy? Mommy! Hey, Mommy! Even when they don’t say it in so many words, it’s there in intention, pulling in three different directions.
It doesn’t halt until they’re tucked in bed. When I have a few minutes left to just be me.
June 15 2010
“Is Grey Kitty going to die?”
This is what Jedi asked me the other morning. My first instinct was to immediately search for our cat, to make sure he was still in good health. I’m not Kitty’s biggest fan, but we’ve had him for 12 years. We picked him and his brother, which we creatively named Orange Kitty, up as kittens when J and I first moved in together. Orange Kitty passed away a few years back.
“Um, sometime, yes”, I replied carefully.
“What will happen when he dies?”
At this point, I was preparing myself for a grand tale about running free on a farm with all of our other deceased pets from over the years. I thought it might be time for a deep discussion of God and heaven and heavier questions of spirituality and mortality for a 6 year old. I paused briefly, treading lightly into intense territory. I also considered apologizing to Grey Kitty for discussing his death when he was very much alive.
“Well, he’ll go to kitty heaven”, I told him as an initial step. I figured he’d surely have more questions where we could elaborate and delve further into the circle of life.
“OK”, he said in turn. “But what I meant was, if Kitty dies can we get a dog?”
May 12 2010
I am participating in Momalom‘s Five for Ten. Today’s topic is about Happiness.
As a little kid, there seemed like so much I couldn’t do. I’d watch in awe as my brother, who is 6 years older, went on teenage adventures that I wasn’t a part of. When you’re young you can’t help but believe those older share a secret that makes them happier.
Then I got to high school and was miserable. I was quiet, too afraid of what everyone else thought yet trying too hard to be different. I spent the majority of my days blending into a desk, willing the clock to tick faster. I couldn’t wait to graduate. To get out. Happiness has to be waiting somewhere else.
Mere months after graduating high school I met J. A few months later, we moved in together. Away. We didn’t have much at the time. It was a small apartment with creaky wood floors. There were respites of happiness, but it was exhausted by a dead-end job that I abhorred. And so began a search for a better career to make me happy.
Eventually I was awarded my own desk, where I twiddled my thumbs for hours on end. It wasn’t the best job, but it was good. I liked having someplace to go, a reason to dress up. Yet it was so quiet when I came home at the end of the day, even with J in an adjacent room. I needed whatever was missing to make me happy.
And along came my son, my first born. Eventually, my world shifted focus to bottles and diapers. When Abby and Buzz arrived, my days turned from quiet and steady to hectic and onerous. It’s not easy. Having children in and of itself did not make me happy.
But there are flashes. Like lightening cutting through the night sky. When my 4 year old, who is speech delayed, tries to sing along with a song or says “Mommy, I love you”. When my daughter cusps my face in her hands and squeals “Hi!” or peek-a-boos around a corner. The ridiculous stories my oldest shares and how he’s always trying to make me laugh. In finding them, I found true moments of happiness.
