the Mommy Ballet

I'm not going to even list an excuse as to why I haven't posted in so long. I'm just going to go with the fact that I post when I can and when time and creativity align. I'm not sure if it's PMS or the parenting world of guilt that are attacking me all at once. I'm sure it's all of the above. I feel like I'm disconnected. From myself, my social life and most of all...my sweet boys. How is it possible that I can work and be a good ENOUGH mother, wife, self? It's an internal battle I have constantly. I feel like their childhood is slipping away. How do I hang on to more of their sweet innocent yumminess? How do I make sure I'm preparing them for adulthood, self assuredness and the big world? How does anyone do it?

Last night I was concentrating on focusing only on them. It felt so good. We had a great evening of playdough and made our own animal train with the noises. At bedtime, they both got into their PJs and washed up and then I created the Mommy Ballet. I picked them each up independently and danced with them the way one dances when noone is looking and sang and spun and got on my tipitoes as well as a few dips and kisses. It sure made up for a crappy day and I think we all slept with smiles. My oldest felt the need to conduct a marriage ceremony for my husband and me. It was very cute and then he wanted us to do the "married dance". How precious. I have to remember this feeling so that I can remind myself that I'm not the worst mother.

Dear Mommy

My weekend involved some a lot of cleaning. Too much I guess because my favorite kindergartener let me know with the use of his wonderful new skills.Dear Mommy, Have fun doing cleaning up the house, I (heart) you. -JK, age 5

Table for 4 please...

It's amazing how time flies. I feel like I refer to it so much that I should have given this blog that title. My younger son will be blowing out two candles on his birthday cake next month. I'm seeing that o so lovable "terrible two's" eeking its way into our already hectic family life. Hubs and I have decided that our family is perfect with the two babes we've got in tow and I'm delighted with the decision. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't say I had a few twinges of a third every now and again. These feelings have come more quickly recently as I watch my youngest grow and reach new independence at lighting speed.

I've always referred to my oldest as a "spirited" child. He is inquisitive and adventurous but still holds on to some caution. My youngest has been quiet and "along for the ride"....until now. For my youngest, his high chair has been a lifesaver when getting a meal prepared or even getting dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. He'd play happily, enjoy a snack or even color. The highchair is now no longer an option. This devilish little guy can crawl up into the highchair on his own. In one turn of your back you can age 10 years as you, frightened to the core, see him standing on his high chair seat. So, bye-bye high chair, hello booster seat. (with a seat belt thank goodness)

The aggravation the missing high chair has caused has allowed my heart to skip a beat and the corners of my mouth rise to make the wrinkles that smiling have developed on my round face. Last night we sat as a family around the dinner table. A Mom and Dad at either end and a child between us on either side. It was so nice. Our family of four around a dinner table, almost no whining and each participant eating their own food on their own plate. With a fork I might add. This mental picture touched me so. Have I grown to be a mother of two boys? Why does this 1950's image make me feel so validated as a mother. I have to confess, I've quickly updated this image to the 21st century as my husband actually cooked the dinner.

I secretly feel a pain as I watch my boys grow, age, learn and become independent of me. One day they will not need me in the same way and I will need them in different ways too. For now, I hope I can be in the moment, savor their childhood and help them learn to play, laugh and of course remember to wash their hands before they come to the dinner table so we can all share our adventures from the day.

This post is cross posted at Chicago Moms Blog

PMS & LIFE Make My Heart Hurt

Have you ever had one of those days weeks when you felt like nothing would ever go right in your world again? I'm hopefully FINISHING up that kind of week. I start a new job tomorrow and I suppose that and a healthy dose of PMS has really made me do some reflecting on my job as a mother, how I am to myself and me in general as a person. First of all, I have to laugh because I just haven't thought of ME as a person in so long. How sad. Another post topic indeed.

Well, DH had to work today. I feel the family is so disjointed when he has to work on the weekends. Today was additionally harried in that my almost 2 year old has been waking at 5am every morning for so long that I can barely function. DH leaves the house about 28 seconds before my youngest starts stirring and then immediately belting out the tears. It's almost as if it's choreographed. Every morning it's the same thing. I scoop him quickly from his bed so as not to wake my oder son. I have dreamy thoughts of snuggling with my young son in my bed as we both drift off to sleep for a couple more hours. EVERY morning I find myself getting more and more cranky as this plan never works. Somehow, in my own self deprecating disturbing way, I blame myself that he's up so early and that I must be a bad mother. My crankyness and raised voice do not help my case any. Don't ask me how I link the two but somehow I make that head trip during PMS each month. Some Visas should never be issued and I wish the governing party of PMS would stop being so generous with theirs.

The fact that it was raining cats and dogs this morning accompanied by phenomenal thunder made me;
a. not want to get out of bed
b. tell my older son that I'd take him to the movie Ratatouille.

I'm sure you aren't surprised to know that 2 hours later the sun had no cloud competition and her rays washed all over the city. Lovingly & thankfully, we met my folks for breakfast and they immediately commiserated and helped me divide and conquer with these two "curious" yet lovable little boy souls of mine.

How do you love two boys so much and feel so much strife in parenting them all at the same time. Two hot emotions that are such different ends of the spectrum. I constantly feel like I want to be "THERE" for them and yet there are so many details that have to get done. Afterall, I'm just one person . . . . who ends up doing an awful lot. How do I do less chores and still have good credit with my kids AND the bank? I'm not talking about keeping a clean kitchen. These are real life chores that must be tended to. So often I imagine playing ring around the rosie with my boys and having carefree times with them. I always find my very next emotion is devastation in that my oldest is starting kindergarten in the fall and his "at home Mommy time" is OVER. I always thought I'd be home with the kids the first 5 years of each of their lives and I feel like I've failed as a Mother because I haven't held to that. Our family needs the double income. Part of me would have died if I left the workforce for 5+ years. However, I feel that sacrificing ME has been a sacrafice that they will feel forever.

There is a family member on my husbands side that keeps a flickr account. They always make me yearn for the ability to give my children the carefree CHILDhood that this extended family is giving to their daughter. Trust me, on a single income, teacher salary they don't have millions in the bank. We aren't striving for that either. However, the choices that they have made are choices speak to their very strong sense of self. Their daughter is learning about life IN life. Getting dirty in Mother nature, exploring through a pumpkin patch or in a fantasy world of pillows and blankets. The images never have a "c'mon, we've got to get going" flavor. Instead, there is a consistent feeling of exploration and wonderment. What else could a parent ask for for their childrens growing up years? The fact that this extended family hasn't embraced our family only makes this wound sting more.

Motherhood to me was always a feeling of "filling". I'm so scared that I've created a void in them. I'm fearful that they don't feel strong in the who of who they are. I'm scared I don't have time to "fix" it. At 5 and 2 I can't tell you how close to 18 they feel. This pressure I put on myself is deafening, suffocating and yet so natural. How have I existed this way for 40 years. I'm at a cross roads and I hate that I feel like I must choose. I can't choose between me and them. They will always win. I just wish I felt stronger and more prepared as an adult to handle and help shape them into the self assured boys and men I strive for them to want to be. I'm terrified of failing. How do I BE the person, mother and wife that I've envisioned. How do I know when I get there? Is it ever too late? Does PMS exaggerate these emotions or help me to remember not to let them slide under the radar...my heart aches for my boys, for me... yet I yearn for a progress report from some all telling, unknown source to inform me that I'm on the right path no matter how my heart hurts along the way.

Waking up to M*O*M

My youngest (20 months) has about 4 or 5 words that perhaps only I recognize. We had an awful time with him and painful poops for almost his entire life. For the first year plus a few months he would wake in the morning, and from his naps, screaming in pain from these dreadful poops. We finally got it under control and lately he has been babbling in the morning instead of screaming. It is fun to listen to him on the monitor. We certainly don't miss, what we donned, "the G-d forbid I'm on Fire" scream...nor does he.

Well, this morning I got the treat of all treats. He woke up gently and was happily playing. Then he broke into a little sing songy... "Momma" (with a touch of come and get me in his voice) He was checking out the cause and effect a little while enjoying the independence and comfort of hanging out in his crib for a bit in the morning. He discovered how to start his John Lennon music mobile as well as experimenting with some fun with the crib mirror. I thoroughly enjoyed his peaceful play and of course I couldn't wait to go and get him and change the O so poop plentiful diaper I'm greeted with each morn.

Joy O Joy....NO SCREAMING. I'll take this wake up call any day.

Happy 5th Birthday

My Dear Sweet First Child....
I can't believe you are 5 years old. I don't know why 5 is such a big deal. Somehow it just is. So much has happened in this quick time frame. I'm celebrating too. YOU made me a Mom 5 years ago. What a special gift that was, and continues to be. I like to think I have taught you many things. You have taught me too. Although I have taught you how to walk, rationalize, question and more, you have taught me that my heart can get even bigger. You continue to amaze me with the questions you think up and the sweetness you have in you towards me, your Dad, your little brother. You have shown such compassion towards intangible concepts too like mother nature, infinity, G-d, love, heaven, death just to name a few. I was lying in bed last night trying to figure out where 5 years have gone. It seems like just yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital and trying to figure out how to change your diaper without you peeing on us. I wonder how many diapers I've changed in these past years.

Although I sometimes feel extremely taxed by you and your brother, I can't imagine wanting it any other way. You see, being a Mommy makes me want to make you and your brother feel safe and feel like you are getting what you need in any given moment. I know that sounds like a tall order and believe me...it is. Sometimes I think you need to be more independent and that is the hardest need for me to fulfill. I want you to still be my first little baby and yet I want you to be sufficient and continue to trust what daring moves you can trust yourself to do safely. Lately those have been all connected to your new bicycle. I love watching how rugged you feel on your new bike. The training wheels have given you a sense of security that I sometimes wonder if I have missed in instilling in you. You like to show me how you can ride while standing up and sometimes while you ride you like to take your hands off the handle bars for a quick second. I'm certainly not ready for your training wheels to come off anytime soon. You also love to jump. Nana & Papa gave you a mini trampoline for your birthday. You make up all different jumps that include straight legs, spinning around, closing your eyes, arms up and sometimes you like to put all of them together. It is always so nice when you give your brother a turn. You gently hold his hand so that he can get down safely.

I'm a worrier... I worry that I'm not spending enough time with you. Is there even such a thing? Is it ever possible to spend enough time with you AND enough time with your brother? How do Moms of many more multiple children do it all? Last night, while I was thinking about you and how you've grown, I was trying to come up with ways for us to be together and play. PLAY...not my strong suit. I don't know why that is so difficult for me. My goal for now is to focus on letting you teach me about how to play. No agendas, not too much framework...just relaxed interaction. Somehow I was thinking that it needed to involve getting dirty in the back yard digging up worms or something. See, I feel like I need to map it out. I'm going to work very hard at not working so hard. I want to spend this summer with you, when you are not at camp, and do carefree things. Wouldn't it be fun to visit the beach, try gardening, make bubbles, swim, make/eat Popsicles, have a lemonade stand and throw water balloons? Those all sound like such fun and the makings of wonderful memories to add to those we've already collected.

You are getting bigger, taller and wiser. You can count to 100. You can count to 20 in Spanish and 10 in Hebrew. You are starting to read and spell. You make the most wonderful cards and you recently learned how to cut a heart out of a folded piece of paper. The wonderment of that was priceless. You showed me at least 7 just at breakfast alone and were very happy to announce that the leftover paper made a beautiful frame for another project. You love to fold. You told me the other day, when you were folding a towel, that, "When I grow up I can work in a store and fold clothes and things for the customer people." You are so delicious I can't stand it. You love to sing. We make up songs and you like to sing in your Jacob Made Up Language. The best part is when you try to teach me these songs. You love to dance too. I love it when I put on the music and we all dance together.

You seemed to have fallen in Love this year. A wonderful girl.."B". I think it's funny that you were infatuated with that letter a few years back. You often tell me that you are going to marry her and that she is "Your Love". You are disappointed when you can not sit next to her and are always eager to remind me that your wedding will be at 7:30. She is a wonderful girl and part of an awesome family...I'm so happy that you are happy but perhaps you could put marriage on the back burner for now.

As for a future profession, you've had lots of top pics...Never the traditional fireman, cowboy, policeman etc. that I normally associate with little boys. Sometimes you mention wanting to be a garbage man so that you can ride while standing on the back of the truck. Sometimes you want to be a "payer" (cashier) so that you can press all those buttons. However, you really give me run for my money when it comes to negotiating. Daddy and I often say that you will be a lawyer when you grow up. You always see a new angle to a situation and I hope that will serve you well one day. Right now, it's very exhausting. : )

We drive by a large police station on our way to school. You always have many questions regarding this facility. You constantly ask why they have a truck police car and when I ask you what you think they use it for, your most recent comment was, "Maybe a bunch of police people go to a play together at a theater". I just about fell out of the car. First, I have to commend you on always saying "people". Rarely do you say policeMAN or WOMAN. I find this very interesting. But the fact that you picked a play in a theater was so advanced. I love this creative thinking of yours.

Daddy is coaching you in TBall this year. You are a New York Yankee. It is so nice to see you guys have so much fun. He bought each of you a new mitt and a bunch of baseballs. Everyone comments on what a great swing you have. Although you say you are bored in the outfield...Daddy says that you guys are working on grounders and last week you said you had fun out there.

All in all I think you are generally a happy kid with a lot going on his head. You are always thinking, analyzing and measuring a situation. You are usually kind to your brother and I LOVE to watch you teach him new things and see how excited you get when he does something for the first time. You have a big heart and I love to see you grow, learn explore and teach. I love you so much from here to "affinity" (cuz you are just too cute when you can't say INfinity)

Happy Birthday my sweet first born.
Love,
Mom

Best Shot Monday

We were asked this week..."What tangible object makes you feel like a Mother?" I was thinking about this alot, especially with my son turning 5 recently. I was getting very nastalgic and attempting to remember all the details of his first year etc. I decided that since I had the pleasure of growing and carrying both boys inside of me that their belly buttons were partly my skin. That is something we share that no one else can buy, wrap or package.

One Sunday night we started photographing all our belly buttons on a whim....I never knew I'd be posting them all here. Dad is here too because we wouldn't have these perfect belly buttons without him. If you are looking for something a bit more traditional...please check out this great neclace too.

And as always...check out other BSM here

I'm BAAaak

OK, OK, OK...I've been out of touch for a while. Thank you so much for the many email messages I received from many readers I didn't even know I had. Here is a little insight as to why it's been so long since my last entry.

...School Daze Life CRAZE...

Living in a big metropolitan city has lots of bonuses...You can always do or get what you want or need. In my city, there are lots of parks. We are fortunate to have a great residential area near the city stuff. However, if you want to educate your children....take a deep breath and clear your schedules and perhaps your credit cards. Notice I didn't say pick up and move to the 'burbs. The burbs have been a very last resort for our family. We love being able to walk most places and the thought of using the car for everything is enough to make me want to scream. Don't get me wrong. there is nothing wrong with the suburbs. I am a product of them myself. Although I often dream of the vast back yards and horizontal rather than vertical living that is available there, I still resign myself as a city girl. Ah, but then I went and had kids and decided that educating them might be a great idea. . . . here starts the problem.

Picking an institution to educate my children has been a 2+ year endeavor. Having been an educator myself I thought I had a good handle on what to look for in a school. In hindsight, I don't think anyone can be prepared for this monumental task. My husband and I had a few hurdles to get over. For example, we had to decide if we were ready to trust our cities public schools to teach our children? Do we need to find a private school to do the educating? If so, do we want the private school to be religiously focused? It took us some time and lots of school visits, aka missed work and schedule juggling. We visited school fairs and talked to lots and lots of parents both in this same process and those who've, excuse the pun, graduated from it. The only thing that is consistent with all these parents opinions is this....this process is really tough. Many also said, "It all works out somehow."

We applied to one school last year for Jr. Kindergarten and were rejected. It still boggles my mind to actually set myself up for such a feat but hey, space in a city is limited and someone has to draw the short straw. After the schools organized play date for my son and informal interviews with the admissions director and my husband and me - it was tough not taking this rejection personally.

This year we focused on kindergarten and decided to look into our local public school. It seemed as if the scores were improving steadily in the last couple of years. That was promising. Class size wasn't too big, but only guaranteed to be 32:1 or less. That is a lot of little kids with one teacher. Forget the fund raising....show me a school who doesn't need fund raising and I might just pass out. The demographics were pleasantly diverse and the thought of walking to and from school was heavenly. Low and behold, at the school visit, I learned that classes were often broken up into smaller groups and portions of the students were taught reading by the librarian or, at some schools, the gym teacher. I'm no Einstein but I'm pretty sure that the education for librarians and gym teachers does not necessarily include the fundamentals for reading. And, again, just by the numbers here...I don't see my child pulling the long straw on the individualized attention concept either. The public school is not a bad options, rather, for us, our second option.

In the eleventh hour I cleared my schedule and looked at one more private school - Religiously based. I've been to a few events that were organized by this school. I had always felt so welcomed and warm. This was a true light bulb moment for me. I knew that the parents participation and comfort in the child's learning institution was of utmost importance. Getting to know the administration and learning that some of our friends also sent their children to this school was very refreshing. This school has its own setbacks. It's locationally challenging - carpool a must. It's a newer school and we'd be slight guinea pigs. However, it's exciting to think about the aspect of helping to build a new institution. We went for it. We applied and waited. And Waited. Oh, and we waited. Then there was spring break so we waited some more. School visits to my sons preschool meant more waiting and then.... ... ...

After 2+ years of much struggle, anticipation and grief as to whether we were going to HAVE to move to the 'burbs.... after so many open houses for homes in both the city and the burbs that I've lost count...I got the call I'd been waiting for. "We would like to welcome you to our school. We'd be so pleased if you'd join our family". Music to my ears. "They'd be pleased?" They have no idea how pleased we would be to be welcomed to their family. So, we sucked it up. Paid the deposit and poof. We have a school. We have a means, in the city, to educate our children. We couldn't be more giddy with relief. I guess it all does work out somehow. Sometimes I have to pinch myself that this is all for Kindergarten.......I keep hearing, "No Child Left Behind". But this was close. What will happen when we need a high school or even a college. Hoping that process won't be as daunting is naive but even I am not sweating that yet.

The Perfect Shade

I was getting ready to go out last night. While doing so, my older son was sitting on the counter in the bathroom. He loves to hold the hairdryer. I love when he doesn't burn my scalp. Anyway, I was at work all day and hadn't seen him and was happy to have this time together.

What I loved the most was that when he came into my room the TV was on. I told him that I'd love for him to hang out with me while I got ready so that we could spend some time together before I left. His baby blues popped open and said, "We can play", which initially broke my heart and then it quickly mended as I said, "OK, TV on or off?" He, without hesitation said, "off". We are not a huge TV family...especially the kids. (15-20 minutes here and there)

We had such a nice time just chatting about our days and getting caught up. He has always wanted to put on my makeup...I've always said no. I don't know if it is because I was nervous he might like it too much...which sounds totally ridiculous, he's 4...or if I was being so cranky and didn't want to clean up the mess. Or both. This time I was way more relaxed...perhaps from all of my recent working out. He was so careful to not only be gentle with the angle of each lipstick but in picking the correct shade. Times like these just make me want to give him more space to be a kid.

This kid thing is a short run and I was too quick to grow up. I think I actually avoided being a kid as much as possible. Sometimes I think I'm experiencing being a kid with my kids. It's fun and I find that when I give them the courage, trust and safety to be carefree...there is no friction when we have to change gears and transition to something else. THAT is a beautiful thing!

What have you learned from your kids?

Smothered...in a good way

I knew being the kind of mother I wanted to be would take every cell in my being. I signed on the dotted line knowing full well that I didn't know what I was fully getting into. Including realizing that by being the mother of two, it would feel like I needed extra cells to cover every ones neurosis and insecurities, including my own.

My older son has been waking up around 4am lately. I've stopped the struggle with walking him back to his own room and getting him comfy in his bed because I have come to the realization that he needs this connection. I'm not fooling myself into thinking that it will be difficult to change this cycle...instead I'm praying for a morning when he will wake up, go to the potty and return himself back to HIS bed. I know I'm dreaming. I secretly LOVE this snuggling. However, yesterday, at 6:15am, my 1.5 year old woke up and I went to get him out of his crib, change him and then brought him into our, now, family bed. (I think I just won for longest runon sentence) The older guy climbed on top of me and made sure he took up ALL of me. If you know me, that's a Lotta momma. My younger guy sat as close to my head screaming until his brother moved an arm or hand so that he could get his piece of me. In the best sense of the word. Although I loved them fighting over being soothed by me I can't deny that my older son needs more of me. I'm trying to carve out time for he and I but he is making it clear that he needs more of me. Doesn't he know that I'm working on having less of me? If only it were that easy.

My mother has a perfect visual descriptions of this dilemma. It is a small statue of an egg with a bird on top. The bird is stretching its arms, legs, beak and all trying to cover and protect this too big egg. I always thought this was a cute statue. However, now I know exactly why it means so much to her....and now me.

Make a Wish

Sunday night I made chicken for dinner. A pretty basic non descript meal. We enjoyed it with friends and upon cleaning up I placed the wishbone on the window sill to dry. Last night, Jacob was sitting on the counter and saw the, now dry, wishbone. He held it and started telling me all the rules. First I had to close my eyes really tight and think of my wish. Then I had to open my eyes but watch him close his eyes to do the same. This was serious wishing work. Then he had a whole reasoning about how to hold the end of the bone ONLY. I was then informed that we had to check with each other BEFORE we counted to three. We checked, we counted, we pulled....It happened, y'know, what you don't, as a mom, want to happen...I got the "good, get your wish" piece. I so wanted this to be over. I so wish I had made spaghetti on Sunday. I headed to the trash with my side of the bone. (by the way, that always seemed so crazy to throw your wish away.) Anyway, don't you worry about my Jacob. He had a solution. He just asked for my piece of the bone so he could have his wish too. I love the innocence of childhood.

This made me wonder what he could have wished for. Was he wishing we didn't have to interrupt our three days together to go back to work & school tommorrow? Did he even realize we had an extra long weekend? Was he hoping he'd finally get to have a playdate with his friend "B"? Was he hoping to get the brownie he eyed all day before dinner instead of after? I guess I'll never know. He is becoming his own person everyday. It's fun to watch. I hope all his wishes come true.

Fake Milk

One of the most common discussions my husband and I have is,

ME: "How's the Milk...are we running low?"
DH: "I'll pick some up on my way home from work"

I swear, I'm about to buy a cow for the backyard. If I didn't think I'd have the same conversation about hay instead of milk I'd really think twice about it. That, and I haven't seen any cow pullups at Costco yet, but I'm always looking.

Anyway, when I was growing up, my Mom did a lot of parenting by herself. My Dad worked at an overachievers pace and though he helped when he could...going to the store on a whim wasn't his foremost skill. My mom was prepared for this struggle in many ways...never running out of milk was one of them. She ALWAYS had instant powdered milk on hand. I can recall many times when she whipped up a batch of milk. UNfortunately, I can also recall the contortions my face went into upon sipping this foreign liquid. I can so clearly remember her trying to convince my brother and me that it was, "the same as the milk we buy at the store." We weren't buying it.

Truth be told...I've become my Mother.

Yesterday, we too were out of milk...a Saturday, the one day a week where me and my boys stay in our jammies (when our schedule allows) and just hang out and play ...aka...NO RUSHING. Dad was at work and sippies were empty...what is an urban girl to do? I checked the pantry...thank goodness we made hot chocolate kits for holiday gifts last month...we HAD powdered milk. Would I?...Could I?...SHOULD I?

The bantering in the background elevated. My oldest started whining...I start sweating..."Mom, I'm thirsty."

I inform him that we are going to make milk. I must have been more like a Stepford wife than just plain smiling. I'm trying to make this the best experience ever...I even let him stir.

We sit at the table....His bowl, with the built in straw, gets filled with cheerios and his scoop of "Saturday Cereal".

Then it happens..... I Gulp

"Mom, this milk is GREY...and it smells funny."

I assure him that it's just the cereal and then poof...he bought it. He sucked down the whole bowl. DH brought home the gallon of moo juice that evening and all in our world was right again.

Hmmm...why buy the cow when your powdered milk sits in the pantry for free?

Security Blanket for the New Millenium

My oldest son, Jacob has been having trouble going to bed and eventually allowing me to leave the bedroom. He has an uncanny way of using his very manipulative puppydog eyes and uttering the words..."Mommy, can't you stay and snuggle a little bit longer?" Ugh...it's what I love to hear and yet I wonder if I am creating a situation that I won't be able to reverse at a later date. Going to college with him will be fun but I'm not sure I'm ready for those roommates and late parties again. Anyway, last night I stuck to my guns in our newest concrete plan of 2 stories and snuggle for 2 songs. Usually when I'm through putting him down I go downstairs to clean up the kitchen and finish up in my office for the evening. While in my office, I received this pint size visitor with the gorgeous, puppy dog eyes of which I've mentioned. I lovingly explained the plan again and he returned, himself, to his bed.

To get to his bedroom, Jacob has to pass through the kitchen. On his way, he has to pass by the beautiful "charging station" I brokedown and purchased for the appendages that are usually attached to both mine and my husbands upper region. After finishing up my work I went upstairs and checked on the boys. And then I saw IT....my heart dropped immediately....Jacob was sleeping so sweetly, perfectly pink lips, not a nostril was dripping but resting there on his pillow was my cell phone. I started to cry and decided that this was his way of scraming at the top of his lungs....Mom, I need you, more of you and we might have to re-think this terrible plan of yours.

Best Shot Monday

This BSM comes from Picture This . Sammy went sledding for the first time. Sledding, all talked up and whammy....no sled. So, I did what any good mother would do....improvise. This is a push shovel...I don't think he knew any different and my back was so thankful. Sammy sure loved that first taste of snow.

*Did I cheat? I hope not. I should confess that although this/these pics are not from this past week...they were taken on a monday. Geesh...I'm breakin' rules all over the place.

I Need Answers

My 4.5 year old son asked me the greatest question yesterday.

Son: "Mom, where does love come from?"

Me: Wow, that's a great question...I think it's always in us. All around us. And, y'know what?...I have so much love for you that sometimes it comes bubbling right out of my ears.

Son: Hmmm (and then on to asking for our newest phenomenon...gum. Where does a kids love of gum come from? OY, more questions with again...no answers...Like should this still be in parenthesis? )

I need answers...where does love come from? Do you think they sell a "Where love comes from for Dummies?" I hope not, and I hope it's always bubbling inside of me.

Reality of Motherhood

My oldest son Jacob is 4.5. He is a walking, "WHY". Having been a teacher I thought I was well prepared for motherhood....I was SO WRONG. I'm now the mother of 2 delicious boys. My younger son, Sam is 1.5. Both keep me on my toes for very different reasons. I thought that the reality of motherhood would be when I started carrying Cheerios with me wherever I went. The Cheerios phase passed without nearly a mention, except for the plastic Pepperidge farm fish box that too frequently spilled all over the diaper bag or car. However, it still makes me pine for simpler times with my oldest. Honestly, the reality of helping to shape the mind of another human being is downright frightening.

Recently, our neighbor, a dear man, passed away. He was always good for a wonderful story and we were all quite fond of him. DH and I took Jacob to his house to see how he was doing. He was not the vibrant man we so recently knew...instead he was in a hospital bed with tubes and machines puffing and clicking around his bed while he lay half asleep. I'm so glad we went when we did because just a few hours after we left, he passed away died. I'm adamant about saying "died" only because as a teacher I remember being taught that when teaching life stages to young children, Keep it simple and straight forward. Wow, is that ever difficult. Jacob now has 10,000 questions about death, heaven, no mention of hell as of yet thank goodness, and when or why a person dies. We approached this subject a few months back when we discussed the passing of our 12 year old dog Calvin. Jacob was only 6 months when he died but thanks to many photos of them together, he has his own image of him. Anyway, he had many, "WHYs" for that discussion as well. I made it through while trying to keep a good balance of reality as well as not instilling fear in this life cycle. Last night I got the question of all questions....the one that sends you right to the front of the line of Motherhood Reality. Jacob asked me, "Mom, when are you going to die? Are you going to leave me?" Wow, I think I was cleaning the kitchen at the time and immediately I could picture myself actually asking my parents the very same question. I assured him that I wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon and that he shouldn't worry. Did I break my own honesty rule? Truth of the matter is I don't know when I'll "go". Tonight he asked me if Nana & Papa, my parents, were going to die soon. Ugh, reality stinks. He just kept the whys coming though...he moved right over to, "Mom, why can't I see my bones? and is my Stomach like a house?" I started into the whole scientific, keep it real, answer and a millisecond later he said, "OK Mom, goodnight." You have to love this age. Yes the "why's" are exhausting but he is so clever it amazes me and I'd hate to be the one to squash it. It's bound to happen at some point...I suppose I'd rather kick reality to the curb and keep the inquisition going.