On Home & Its Heart

It's time for the big announcement, my friends:  John and I accepted an offer on our townhouse.  At first, I felt only excitement and relief.  Now, in a fleeting quiet after bedtime and before John returns from a rare evening work function, I feel different.  Reflective.  Sad.

I'm quite emotional when it comes to the home.  I hang onto every memory and stage in the place it happened.  On Grand Avenue, we shared our wedding night and my water breaking.  We slept in on Sunday mornings and kept a crib, for a time, in the kitchen.  Then, there was a period where we lived at my parents' house.  That was the time of Tommy's true babyhood: first crawling, reading, playing, laughing, talking, and walking.

And then, on the day when the paint of our bedroom was baby blue and we were just about ready to move in here, we found out Lucy would come.  What a wonderful moment!  The adventure began.  It's been such a long and short journey in this home.  Our family has flourished and stretched and cried and laughed.  We welcomed Jimmy, we grew to love our community.  That's why, after careful thought and many, many hours of conversing, John and I decided to call this city our home.

We bid on a house less than one mile away!

People are attached to their homes, certainly, and I know that when the days of final packing and moving come, there will be tears in saying goodbye to Shamrock.  But what adventures are before us still!  So much more growth and surprise and wonder for our family.  So much more unknown.

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Signs You Have More Than One Kid

"Moooooooom!!!! Lucy's eating the icky toilet water!!!!"

Unflinching, I casually walk upstairs.  "Lucy, that's icky.  Don't drink the toilet water."

Enough said.

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Warning

If you are doing laundry in a hurry, do not throw your MP3 player in with the wash. 

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The Things They Say

Lucy, when I told her it was time to leave the gym daycare center:

"I'm busy, Mom.  Working on the computer!!"

Tom, when I told him he needed to go upstairs for playtime:

"You just have to trust me, Mom.  You just have to trust me."

Jim, all day long:

"Mama!  Mama! Mamamamama!"

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Negotiation Tactics

My Dad has always been one who can get people to do the things he wants them to do.  Don't get me wrong:  this is not a negative attribute.  It's an asset.

Anyway, I just noticed that the Army stole his mantra for negotiation:  Keep thinking about it.

What a great commercial.  The kid (a young man, really) wants to join the Army and comes to his Mom to say he's thought over the decision again, and isn't going to change his mind.  It's the right thing for him, he says.  His Mom says, "I know."

"Then why'd you want me to keep thinking about it?"

And she responds, "Because I'm your Mom, and it's my job."

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Jimmy Crack Corn!!

I was filling up the bins with baby food this morning when I heard it again:

"Mama!!"

What a heart-breaker!!  Here I come, Jimster!

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HR Training for Desperate Housewife?

It's occurred to me lately that I've become rather insensitive.  Judgmental, also.  These are not very attractive traits.  Not the type of traits one wants to admit on her blog.

How did I become this way?  At one time, I think I was quite sensitive.  Somehow, in becoming a mom, I've gotten more set in my ways and less open to the ways of others.

One of my New Year's resolutions is to work on this not-so-becoming occurrence.  I need to put myself in other people's shoes.  I need to remember we are all from God, and that my job is to do the best I can do for God.

And yet.  (Here's the "but" for this one.)

Something about being a mom makes judgment different than it was in the past.  I guess, since I'm responsible for my kids and also for the influence around them, I feel my judgment is somehow justified.  My political views become a tirade, because I think about how my kids will navigate this world.

Still, my inner instinct says I've gotten a bit out of hand with my critical attitude towards others.  In a multi-faceted effort to chill out (other facets will have to await a later date for description), here I go.

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Phobic Tom

I swear I didn't do it to him. Clowns are just weird. The other morning, Tom delivered an unsettling description of a dream he'd had more than once:

The dark clown was baaaaack, Mom!! Not the nice clown, but the dark one. And then, the good clown attacked him and fought him off.

It's alarming that things can creep into your child's life without your permission. I remember that once, as I child, I woke up and wandered into the living room long after everyone had gone to bed. I turned on the TV to check out what was on, and I saw some disturbing shootout involving a skeleton. Or, at least, my young mind perceived it to be a skeleton. And then there was the time I dreamed that my mom was melting into the new armchair....

Imagination is so vivid in childhood. Tommy really believes there are dinosaur-sized monsters lurking outside sometimes, that there are ghosts hiding in our stairwell.

The Mayhem Unfolded

I meant to bring my camera to the MN Zoo today, but once we got there, I quickly realized that casual photography wasn't on the list of possibilities. Oh, yes: Sarah and I were there with our SIX CHILDREN UNDER SIX. And one in utero. (Thank goodness it's not in my utero; I appreciate her so much more in Sarah's womb!!)

Many times amidst the chaos, I stopped to laugh to myself. How many people could handle an adventure like this one? How many people could feed Jimmy a bottle while corralling Wally and the Goose past the monkey windows and down to the shark tank? How many people could open five Lunchables in five seconds and sprint to catch Lucy as she snuck off to the Tropics exhibit? How many people could slip in a little geography lesson for Will & Tom while strapping a screaming Goose into her stroller because the girl removed her shoes and socks for the sixth time today? I even had time to pamper Claudia with a little blush and lip gloss.

You can't make up this kind of chaos, people.

I am so thankful that the infancy stage (while beautiful) is over, and that Jimmy is a bit easier to handle these days. I'm feeling myself again, able to discover energy and laughter in places others might not find it. I'm remembering why I am a mother and why family is such an important part of my life.

Did I mention my sister is having a girl?! I can't wait to meet her.

From the Depth of my Soul

Do you ever drag yourself out of bed in the morning and wish your home were a remote Starbucks location?

Sigh.

Remember That I Said This

Quitting nursing has sent me into some kind of weird, emotional stage. (Or else I'm just going to get my period for like the 4th time in our marriage.) I want to remember each little thing the kids are doing right now---how Tommy so kindly helps Lucy get all the right toys out to set up her babydoll collection, how Lucy's hair is finally long enough to be in little pigtail tufts, how Jimmy rolls over in bassinet in the morning to great me with a huge, drool-y grin.

Yea, I guess I am in love with these bugs.

On the Subject of Preschool

Right now I am reading a humorous account of the life of a New York stay-at-home mom entitled, "What Do You Do All Day?"  I remember when I only had Tommy, people would ask me that question all the time.  Now, I actually don't have much time to associate with people who don't have a fairly good concept of what I do all day.

(I don't have much against those people.  Not **much.**)

Anyway, one of the funny running themes in this book is the race for prestigious schooling for your child.  Shall he wear knickers and attend SuchAndSuch Fabulous School, which your ancestors attended?  Shall he wear stripes and attend ThisandThat Preppy School, assured to bring out his Ivy League Potential?  Or should he attend Tommy's school, where I know all the teachers personally and am so happy to have Tommy come home with dinosaurs-on-a-stick, so that we can later make puppet shadows of them on our hallway walls?

Haha, that did actually happen this week.  You can't make it up, people.

It's the season for sickness and preschool enrollment, so my MOMS Club members are sending around emails to gain insight into the prestigious options of our neighborhood.  Ahem.  I'd better watch my footing now so that my comments do not head in any.offensive.direction.

Why not let kids explore what they love at this age?  Why not use preschool for play, and jump off that curriculum with continued learning at home?  Why not let them be kids a little bit longer?

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Fact

Don't get me wrong:  My husband is a very clean person.  In fact, in some regards, he is cleaner than I am.

But.  (There always is one, isn't there?)

Something about husbands prevents them from being the nighttime surveyor.  Wives, you know what I mean.  The nighttime surveyor is the one who surveys the kitchen before bedtime to make sure the counters are cleared off and ready for the next day's piles of stuff.

Particularly clear of a plate of uncovered, freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies that will go stale if left fully overnight, and so must be eaten by an insomniac wife.

I'm such a martyr for my family.

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Am I Rookie, Or What?

The answer to this one is an obvious yes.  I have be bemoaning the television, swearing that in 2009, I won't let the kids watch so much TV.  I'd forgotten entirely about something major that kids LOVE, that takes up tons of TIME, and that makes almost every activity more FUN;

music.

Seriously, is this my first five minutes of being a mom, or what?

I picked up a few kids' CDs at the library last week, and finally got around to hooking up my old CD player in Tommy's room this morning.  We spent an hour dancing around, pretending there were spiders crawling on the floor, and rhyming to the songs like crazy.  Now this is quality time, people.

Roku, you're on a break.

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Six Months

Dear Jimmy,

I have been meaning to write you for so long now, and the time has just run away from me. Procrastination, I suppose. It's not always a bad thing, though: while the house isn't exactly "pristine" at this moment and I'm not current on all my projects, I look back on these last weeks quite happy to have spent so much time really enjoying my three little bugs.



Oh, Jimster. You are an age that is so wondrous right now. Every moment, your giggles and your innocence and your jump, jump, jumping in the Exersaucer seem to catch me as so beautiful and perfect. You lay on your tummy and are just enraptured by whatever is beside you. You think each different fabric is a masterpiece to be memorized. You're learning, baby, probably faster than you ever will again.


Daddy and I are in our usual competition to get you to say "Mama" or "Dada" first, and wow, Dad won by a longshot this time. It seems you're burbling, "DADADADA!" every time I walk into the room. How does he do it? You've also discovered your tongue lately, and seem quite proud to be able to stick it out whenever you want.

And the EATING, Jimmy! You only started eating rice cereal about a month ago, but now your appetite just can't be fulfilled. Last week, you ate about 4 meals of baby food per day. I couldn't spoon it in fast enough, so you cried out between each bite. Have I had such a starving baby before? Your long legs are stretching further, and your beautiful, lean tummy is starting to show the tiniest bit of that baby fat. Oh, Jimmy. You are a lady killer. One look in those big eyes of yours sends me to the moon.

I hope I can be a great Mom for you. I hope I can help you understand how much you are loved by God and by your family, James Eric. I want so much for you---so much learning, so much experience, so much joy. I want you to realize the satisfaction in working hard for something, and to stop, then, to enjoy the stillness around you.

And yet, my son, it is evident to me that none of those things can matter without God and without family. So know this, Jimmy: I am praying for you every day.

I love you always!

Mama