This is the Life

My son is learning to play Monopoly. He is passionate about it. When he is succeeding (which in his world is buying properties, he has little interest in collecting rent -- like his mother, he is better at spending than he is buying), he leans back, laces his fingers together behind his head, and states, "this is the life".

I have at times, questioned my path, but it is moments like this that bring my life in clear perspective. Today, I watched my son walk a balance beam. I watched my daughter inhale a milkshake in the lap of her great grandmother, smiling with each sip and slurp. Together they splashed me like the Titanic going down as they demonstrated their ever-growing swim skills in our small backyard pool. And as I write this, he is setting up the Monopoly board yet again.

So as the summer days wane and I look to the scheduling serenity of the school year, I am taking this moment to embrace the last of the summer chaos and remember that yes this is the life!

Day 329 or It's Friday, I'm Fragmented and a Little Bit Green

The last week have been really listening to the things my kids have had to say -- some silly, some profound, and some just darn funny. So in honor of Friday Fragments, I thought that I would share some wisdom from the mouths of babes.

My daughter still speaks a great deal about her grandfather that passed last winter. She also speaks a lot about angels. This week she told me about how she was an angel before she was born. She told me that she was waiting to come to Earth. Now she hasn't been exposed to the Well of Souls so I have no idea where this came from but it was super sincere. She then started an even deeper discussion about how people can be "in her heart". I attempted to explain that when someone dies, they never leave us, that they will always be in our hearts. Well, she then wanted to know how they could get there because her heart was inside. She was concerned that there might not be enough room. It is so sweet how literal she is and reminds of the beauty of child-vision.

On the other side of this coin, my son on a completely different day, started a conversation about ghosts. But should you ever need to put into relief the difference between how a six-year old boy thinks from a three year-old girl thinks, here it is. We were in the car and as a good six-year old boy is known to do, he passed gas. I called him on it and he told me that a ghost did it. I answered that ghosts don't have gas. He then replied that they did not have "hineys". He furthered that ghosts also did not go to the bathroom because they did not have penises. So there you go. Important information to know, right?

My daughter has also begun telling me that she is too busy for me as she has work. (Personally, her "work" looks more like mess-making than I might prefer, but what are you going to do?) This one hurt a little because I actually went back to work this summer. And, when I make a mistake, she says, "You didn't know, Mommy. You didn't know". So you heard it first here, folks, I didn't know.

On a completely different note, I am still having issues with my iPhone after it is was "improved". Since the ill-fated update, the phone says that vibrate is set for sound or silent but it has not worked since the change. Any suggestions?I need my vibration, you know. I know that some of you are tech savvy, if you have ideas, please share.

This week, I was inspired by my new IRL friend, Erin, I re-visited my commitment to being green, I wrote more about it in my other blog Cold Comfort Living. I have failed a lot lately but I am ready to do better. I am proud, however, of what we are doing for Heifer International. The latest tally of $220 buys a goat, two flocks of chicks, and a tree! Yay! That's got be good and green!

Finally, here is my profund thought of the day. I am watching Veggie Tales with my daughter. The veggies are eating fruit. Is that akin to cannibalism? I don't know but it just doesn't seem quite right. Just sayin. :-)

So there we are. Check out Mrs. 4444 at Half Past Kissing Time and join in the Fragmented Fun!

Day 271 or Living in the Chaos

I love my children.

I love the look of them. I love their smiles. I love, Love, LOVE the way my daughter tucks her hands under her chin when she sleeps and how my son can't help but make a goofy face when a picture is taken.

I love the way they smell. Well, most of the time. I love my daughter's hair after a wash and my son's breath when he blows in my face to prove he's brushed his teeth (when he has actually brushed his teeth, that is!).

But I don't always love the SOUND of them.

I love to hear them when they whisper secrets in my ears. I adore their giggles. I love their little kid dialects. How they shape their words. I love it when my daughter sings -- at least for the first six times I hear the song of choice. I love when my son tells me (in extensive detail) his favorite films and stories.

What I don't love is that building roar when the two are overtired yet insistent that they play together. When there is just a little too much excitement in their voices. They are having fun but I can't enjoy it because I KNOW where this is going. In moments we will descend into bickering, in to the "he hit me", "no, she hit me", so on and so forth. There is a certain pitch and decibel that I have come to recognize as the precursor to the descent. The quick ride down to Crazy Momma Ville.

Tonight I caught myself in one of these moments. The kids are soooo happy. They are playing happily. Whatever may happen later, why can't I embrace this moment? Why can't I enjoy where they are now without worrying where they will be in five minutes?

I think that this is a metaphor for my life. As a mother. As a wife. As me! I need to enjoy the laughter, the craziness, the chaos of life a little bit more. Relax into it. Live it without feeling the need to slam my foot on the brake. I'm so worried of where it might go that I never truly take the ride and find out.

Now in tonight's case, we did dip close to the Danger Zone, but even without my bellowing to cut it out before someone got hurt, they survived. I survived. And I got just a couple more moments to enjoy them. And that makes it all worthwhile.

Day 245 or Kids Say the Beautifulest Things

Remember that show "Kids Say the Darndest Things"? First, it was Art Linkletter and then it was Bill Cosby. The set-up was that children were asked seemingly innocuous questions and then the children would answer, well like... children.

I sure wish that show was still around because my children would be excellent candidates. I wish that I could remember everything cute that they say but it's impossible. But below is an example of what I would call, "Kids Say the Beautifulest Things".


As many of you know, we lost my FIL earlier this year. On a daily basis, the following conversation happens.

Daughter: Mommy, did (Grandpa) die?
Me: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right, baby.

But this week, the following elements were added.

D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels. He's in the charge of the music.

On another occasion, we were in the car with my son.

D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right.
Son: Mommy, do you know who else is with (GP) and the angels?
M: Who?
S: Tuna Boy (our beloved cat that we lost in December). Tuna Boy loves to dance.

These conversations so touch my heart because we think that kids can't handle things like death. We think that they have no understanding of Heaven and then, as per usual, I learn my greatest lessons from them.

They miss their (GP) and their cat. But when they ask about them, it is never with fear or sadness but with the innocence of a child learning to understand why something he/she loves is no longer with them. My daughter asks the questions EVERY day with the same freshness but each time, her answer is a little more resolved. If only I could be that way in my life with much smaller things, much less on something as profound as death.

Before, I fog up my screen with my mistiness at my own children, I will close with one last observation from my daughter. I think it says it all.

D: Mommy, is (GP) in my heart?
M: Yes, Baby. He will always be in your heart.
D: Is he in your heart?
M: Yes, Baby. Whenever we love someone, they are always in our heart.
D: Oh.... Am I in your heart?
M: Of course.
D: Okay. You're in my heart, too.

Day 235 or You Say Yes...

I say NO! No, no, no!


You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello

I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don't know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello

Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye

Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello
Hello

Hela, heba helloa
Hela, heba helloa


This is the quality of conversations around my house tonight. Ever have one of those? The Beatles may not have been singing about 3 and 6 year olds but they might has well have been. Tonight is one of those nights where the delta between the mom I want to be and the mom I am being is quite wide -- Continental Divide-like even.

This is not the post I intended to write. I wanted to share an update on my 2010 Bucket List -- I found a fabulous charity that has spoken to my heart. A charity I want to share with my children and with you. But somehow my fingers are not typing that post. That post will have to wait for another day. A day wherein I feel inspired because that post requires inspiration. Something that I have little of this evening.

Tonight is not that night for that post. Tonight, I am going to close up the laptop and say goodbye or as my children would probably say right now, hello.

Day 199 or Uh, Why did I think I needed to name these?

So it's Monday. The big part of the move is finished and it actually looks like we live here but now we're down to the boxes -- you know the hard stuff. My daughter is running a fever, my son looks like he has been hit in both eyes, and I sound like a candidate for a lung x-ray. I know, my life is a perfection pie and you want a slice. It must be tough to come over here being so jealous and all. Okay. Even I'm laughing now because if I don't... well you know the rest.

And somedays (not Sundays) that is the whole reason I go to my computer -- to type out everything I'm thinking. At the beginning, I didn't expect that anyone would read. Then I wrote and wondered if anyone understood. But now I write because I KNOW that there will be someone out there nodding, or laughing or shaking her head but in some way or another sharing my experience.

So here I am at 199 nights since I started this project and although we are the McSick family from McSickyville, TX and I am surrounded by boxes, I am still here even if I don't have much to say. Because in some odd way, that's part of the experience. Just showing up. Just like in life. So tomorrow, maybe I'll have more to say or at least a more clever title but for tonight, I say bonne nuit, gute Nacht, おやすみなさい, buona notte, спокойная ночь, goede nacht, 晚上好, καληνύχτα, boa noite, 잘 자, or good night.

Day 183 or Lullaby for a Not-So-Two-Year-Old

Tonight, when I kiss you good night, my two year old baby will forever leave me to be replaced with a three year old girl. My baby, my LAST baby, is no longer a baby. So tonight, I dedicate this post to you, my beautiful little diva. Because if I am 38 and growing, it is because of your brother and you. Both of you have shaped the woman I am in your own way and I love you for it.

One day you won't remember that you were jealous of your brother's "peanut" and tried to use the restroom standing up. You will deny that he was your greatest hero and you would do anything to be like him (if dressed perfectly in pink in the process!). You won't remember that red was dark pink in your mind because all things pink are better.

But I will. I will remember that you loved to make blueberry muffins, wanted to eat pink icing and cool whip out of the cans, and that any food on your dad's or my plate tasted much. much better.

Every time you say a word with your miniature human dialect, I try to train my brain to rewind it and replay and yet it is gone almost instantly. Whenever you smile and it looks more like a grimace, I tell my mind to take a picture but it is never the same. I can't capture the moments that make you who you are at this particular time of your life with any accuracy. They are fleeting moments and that is what makes them so precious.

You test me. You push me. You make me crazy. You make me deliriously happy. I am never in neutral with you. I'm either laying down the gas trying to keep up with you or frantically stamping down on the brakes. You are teaching me patience. You are teaching me strength. In other words, you are teaching me the lessons of life.

I love your chocolate eyes that flutter as they try desperately to stay awake. You are so afraid that life will happen in those few quiet hours when you sleep. Trust me, my beautiful girl, life will never pass YOU by. You are a force of nature and I love you.

So goodnight, my baby girl. Good night. Close your eyes and dream of all that life holds for you. When you awake and come to me, hair askew and say "Good morning, mommy", I shall answer back, "Good morning, my big, big girl. Happy, happy birthday. You are such a beautiful three-year-old."

I dedicate this to you, my lovely, lovely girl...(Rod Stewart said it better than I).

May the good Lord be with you
Down every road that you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud, dignified and true
And do unto others as you'd have done to you

Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young

May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to Heaven
With a prince or a vagabond

And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young, yeah

And when you finally fly away
I'll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell

But whatever road you choose
I'm right behind you, win or lose
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
For, forever young, forever young

Day 180 or Isn't She Lovely? (And almost 3!!!)

Wordless Wednesday with 5 Minutes for Mom






Thanks as always to 5 Minutes for Mom (http://www.5minutesformom.com/) for hosting.

:-)

Day Sixty - Seven or Mommy Needs a Time Out Pt. 2

So thanks to everyone who stopped by and let me know that I wasn't the worst mom in the world.

Had a better day -- not perfection pie but way better than yesterday. There was only one time-out necessary and it was reserved for the two year-old. I maintained a reasonable decibel level and that voice that erupts from the third ring of hell never once crossed my lips. In my world, that definitely represents growth.

My mother would probably like me to interject here that she did not laugh at all. It turns out that there is a long history to the Mommy time-out. My mom told me a story of a monumental tantrum I threw when I was about my daughter's age. She said that I threw myself on the floor, kicking and screaming hysterically. Shocked, she immediately retrieved the child-care bible of the time -- Dr. Spock. (As a child, I thought that my mother was making choices based on the advice of Leonard Nimoy!)

So the book said that she should diffuse the situation by leaving the room. So she dutifully followed the instructions. She went into the kitchen. And I dutifully followed. She said that I instantly stopped crying, stood up, followed her into the kitchen and immediately began the tantrum again. Huge hysterical tears, and all. So she again obeyed the good doctor until the only room available was the bathroom.

She locked herself in and evidently, I threw myself on the floor yet again and screamed through the crack on the floor. Finally, at a loss, she called my grandmother who recommended that she apply the Dr. Spock book to my rear. She did not follow the advice to which I am grateful, but you get the point. I literally chased my mother into a bathroom!!!!

It's amazing how powerful such little children can be. But something that I was reminded of the last two days is how powerful fellow mommies can be. When you are locked in a bathroom (or any other room in the house) hiding from your own kids, it is easy to feel VERY alone. But I was not. My mom was not. None of us are alone.

Day Sixty - Six or Mommy Needs a Time-Out

So in the post Halloween haze coupled with time-change mania, my children and I were not on our A-Game. We were neither in sync or in the groove. And well... Mommy had a meltdown.

Now I did not hurl myself on the floor as my two year-old did (though I was tempted) nor did I start yelling the same thing over and over as my six year-old did but I would not have survived the white glove test of parenting today. I have no doubts of that. .

There was no perfection pie here

I did not use my calm voice. I did not rise above the melee. I was full on in the "melee". I was sick of the fights over toys. (Legos for goodness sake. They LITERALLY have thousands. They both need the same tiny red block? Seriously?) And the use of furniture as both weaponry and gym equipment. I was sick of my children screaming demands for pink milk from across the apartment rather than coming to me to ask. I was sick of negotiating the Halloween candy disbursement. I was just plain sick.

So I yelled. I used the scary Mommy voice. And then worst of all, I just started crying. Right in front of my children. Sooooo not pretty. And when my husband came in, I literally told him that I needed to go into the bedroom and be left alone for at least fifteen minutes. I did not want to see or hear my children. I wanted a Mommy time-out.

These are the moments that kill me. I adore my children. I want to be the steady force in their life that helps navigate them through the real craziness in life. I don't want to be the craziness. I want them to remember the moments we played dress up like Mommy and Daddy this morning and not the moment when the parental sanity timer went "ding! time's up" and I took a ride on the looney train. In other words, I don't want my children to have extended therapy sessions about their memories of Mother before she started wearing the very stylish if impractical (especially after Labor Day) white long-sleeved jacket. Very long-sleeved.

So I took a time-out and the day was better but I still wouldn't want any TLC film crews following me. And I won't be writing any Dr. Sears style parenting books. I might call my mom, however. She should get a BIG laugh out of this one.

Day Sixty - One

So I have a fabulous mom and I am blessed with a great relationship with her. She and I get along terrifically and she has supported me through everything and in everything!

Now that we've established that I love my mom and she loves me...she can also make me crazy. Most especially in a particular fashion. Anytime that I try to complain about my children (which of course never happens as they are both pieces of perfection pie), she smiles knowingly, laughs, and begins to recount the multiple times I did the same or worse. She enjoys this more than chocolate and Doris Day films. In other words, she enjoys it a little too much.

I mean, come on!

I was a joy to raise. I never sassed or made a mess. Heck, I'm the perfection pie of which my children are a piece. Not believing it? Alright, I don't even believe it!

So, no, I was not an angel dropped to Earth and seemingly I am now living under the mother's curse. You know the one that all mother's yell at one point or another -- "I hope you have a little girl (or boy) just like you!"

The truth is, however, that she sees that as both a blessing and a curse. And I'm sure I will, too. Later. But now, I want her to stop laughing.

So until that happens, I am saving stories for the time my daughter comes whining to me about the "most stubborn child ever born on God's green Earth". And boy, am I going to laugh. Maybe, I'll call my mom then and we can laugh together!

Day Sixty or Slow Down Pt. 2

So a couple of days ago I told the story of learning the lesson of slowing down. Well evidently, Officer H. isn't the only one sent to teach me this lesson. So is my daughter.

My gorgeous, loving, stubborn, infuriating, piece of perfection pie daughter.

I have also mentioned in past posts that she is firmly in the "I do it myself" stage. She doesn't want help no matter how ridiculously out sized she is for the task.

Well, I've noticed a trend. The more I want her to hurry up and complete a task. The slower she goes. And if I try to insist on helping, well, she has to start all over. So as we were dancing this dance for the 5th time today, I got it. (Don't tell me I'm slow on the pick-up!) If I would relax and give her space, she would either complete the task or ask for help but in my impatience I was making everything take longer. Just like the ticket that I got because I was afraid I would be late that became the reason I was late.

I think that life is that way too. Maybe one can want something too much. We rush it or squeeze the life out of it. Who knows where any of us would be if we changed even the slightest things? I sure don't know. I know this, though. Maybe if I'd gotten what I wanted, I wouldn't have gotten what I needed. And maybe, just maybe, if I can learn to slow down, I might find everything I want all in its own time, like a two year old learning to do it all by herself.