I Sometimes Call You My Mama.

Tonight just might be the night the new babe arrives.

A tad tardy or right on time, depends on how you look at it.

To the hospital they went - after the pageantry and fueled by Sweedish

meatballs. Contractions came and went, then came again.

My hubs shouted out a stream of ridiculously silly baby names to them as they made their way down the path, to the car and onwards to labor and delivery.

And I? I was temporarily gifted their first born.

He stayed with me. Too late to head to the hospital,

but too early to go to sleep. It was time to treat him like a prince.

I tucked him into "his bed in Tar's house" upstairs and promised to stay right with him.

I sat quietly and folded the laundry that I had to clear off "his bed in Tar's house".

He squeezed his lucky reindeer and listened to the glowing owl play music just for him.

When he and I are together like this I often call him a sweet angel boy

because he is. I know he can run his own parents ragged, but for me - especially

on these kind of days, he is a sweet angel boy.

Tonight, early in the night, he half whispered to me, "I love you Tar". And I

didn't ask him to repeat it because my eye contact with him after his soft words met my ears

confirmed that he said what I thought I'd heard. And he meant what he said too.

But while I folded my t-shirt he whispered even more, "I sometimes call you my Mama."

And then he just looked at me with his hershey kiss eyes. And I looked at him for a long time -

And on this night - the night everyone in HIS WORLD had been talking about and planning for, his last night of being the baby in his family, and his first night of being a big brother - on this Silent and Holy Night, he didn't need to utter a single word more.

Because, I knew just what he meant.

So I whispered to him as his eyes slowly closed, "Goodnight my sweet angel boy!"

(Because he is.)

I couldn't wait....

I couldn't wait for the day for X to start talking. When he was a baby I used to try to imagine what his voice would sound like.

And now, his voice never stops.

And there are some things that come out of his mouth that are the cutest.

What you have in your mouth, mom?

I have gum mom, I'm Brett Gardner. (a Yankee who chews a WAD of gum)

What smells like mom? (while taking a long sniff)

And there are others that I could do without. The curse words he has picked up on are outrageous. And its not that I can be angry at him about the words. Obviously it comes from those around him (I will not name any names here)...but it is just shocking to hear it coming from his mouth.

I couldn't wait to to hear the words come from his mouth, and now they don't stop coming.

As X lolled about in his bath tonight, he was non-stop talking. To his trucks, to shampoo bottle, to his body parts. Along with singing BOOMBOOMPOW he was diarhhea of the mouth.

And I loved it. I organized my jewelry box, cleaned my room, and loved listening to his musings. It was music to my ears.

By the way, on this lovely summer rainy day, remember this? Ahhh, I hope summer lasts forever.

Hey Dec Where We Going?

"Just hang on Xavey...and I'll take you on the ride of your life!"

Good vs trying to be good but falling a little bit short of goodness...

I really love Saturdays. I try to relax, but mostly I use my time at home to clean and organize places in the house that have NEVER been cleaned (sorry closet under the stairs, you are scary and full of spiders and I only go in you if absolutely necessary).

And I do try to play and be FUN, but Xave also does a REALLY good job at being 2.

The morning cuteness and sleepiness wears off as soon as daddy leaves to go to the football game.

I try to ignore "batty", but as soon as he is standing ON my computer smashing "batty" into it I lose it. Batty gone.

And as quickly as it happened we are sitting together eating pancakes and syrup.

And so the day goes.

Cleaning windows and removing screens (i.e. more spider webs).

X playing golf.

Attempting to blow some of the leaves.

X in my arms.

Cleaning the garage/basement/organizing recycling.

X taking all the styrofoam inserts from the boxes and turning them into potty seats while removing all the clothing from his lower half?! (peepee here mom?) ummm sure, is this in the potty training books?

Cleaning the gross light fixtures I never would have purchased in 1,000,000,000 years but am stuck with for the interim.

X watching football on mute/listening to classical music.

Cooking dinner, waiting for daddy.

X chewing carrots/meatballs/sweet potatoes and spitting them back out.

X dancing to classical music.

X playing Connect 4 with us after dinner.

X wanting to be read every book in sight.

X falling asleep, head off couch, face down, completely comfortable.

BTW, "batty" was returned. He used it in the car to Declan's soccer game to turn the over head lights on.... and off.....and on.....and off......and on..........................

Bump.

Apparently....life is full of choices.

Being in Stowe reminds me of this. The sign on the door a few doors down from Mom & Dad's says something like "remove your shoes OR clean the floors".

Every time I read it, I'm not sure if I like that sign. In fact, I'm pretty certain I don't.

It really seems a bit too abrasive to hang on a front door.

I prefer a welcome mat. Thanks for askin'.

But the "Duck or Bump" (your head) sign ... this one makes me laugh each time I see it.

Prolly because the place it hangs in Stowe has become a secret family hideaway.

A place where the kid's shoot pool, play the piano, fight over the tv remote - all as if we're in our own place.

But we're not! I don't do the dishes at the hof de Stowe. Hooray for no dishes!

And the "Duck or Bump" sign? Well, just ask Xave about how he feels about a bump.... after his first few forays on his new 'coaster.

Life is full of choices and it really:

Don't mean a thing if it ain't got that bump.

Right?

Xavey, back me up here.

When Two Become One.

Happy Birthday EMAH.

Sometimes it feels like our families aren't two different, but one. And the same.

And that makes me happy. It gives me great joy.

I love you today. And I love love love the times that are to come.

Thanks for all you do for me.

Making It

Time. I need to make more of it, make it last longer, make it go faster, make it slow down, make it worth while, make it productive, make it relaxing, make it...

In the mornings my time is eaten up quickly. And I know I could make it less rushed if I got up a little earlier, but that would make my sleep time less and that is never a good idea. So mornings are quick, making lunch, coffee, dishes, getting me dressed, getting Xave dressed packing lunch and lugging 3 bags out the door. (4 on Mondays when we wash the NAPPER over the weekend).

But being that Xave enjoys NOTHING more then playing ball, our mornings are not complete without playing a little catch. The other day I found myself flat ironing my hair with one hand while pitching him balls to swing at with the other.

And I need to try to remember that it's not hard. I can make the time to throw the ball, read the book, color the paper. That is the fun time. The play time. The QUALITY time that can easily be missed when life gets in the way of LIFE.

Just remind me of that tomorrow morning (MONDAY=NAPPER) when I am running around, getting organized, hair HALFWAY straightened, looking for keys (khees mommy? khees?), shouting and singing how SCHOOL IS FUN and WORK IS FUN and trying to tell Xavy, we can PLAY when we get home. I will take a deep breath and make it the time NOW...all the time.

Little Person spotlight #2

Another rainy, windy, gloomy, slumpy, frumpy, bumpy night.
Another cute little kid.



He's no ordinary boy, he is a wild bundle of fun. You might know him as Javier, or Chooch, or even fOx, I know him as the coolest pink helmet wearing kid in Sanibel. Though I suspect he's pretty cute in other places too.



Never one to miss a party, he is a guy who loves a good theme and prop. A munchkin after my own heart.



I won't hold it against him that it only took him 18 months to become a better skier than I am. It's just a part of the cycle.

Final verdict on the fOx: Pretty dern cute.
Best thing he gave me, and gave me, and gave me: Green flav-or-ice.
Things he likes that I don't like: Wearing a t-shirt, and nothing on bottom.
His favorite accessory from the FL house: Sweet cheeks rug.
As he put HIS sweet cheeks right on it.

Well done Emah!

Air Exchange

He freaked out. He screamed and pouted. And yelled.

It was 56 degrees out when I picked him up from school. No jackets necessary in this type of weather. For most, it is the time of year that we all look forward to. NO COATS! NO HATS!

YEAH! But he didn't get it. We always, always, ALWAYS put on coats and hats to go outside, so when he didn't need it he didn't know what to do. I tried to explain it to him in the one word I know he understands.

I waved my hand around in the air..HOT.

HOT, no hat.

HOT, no coat.

HOT...

I turned the heat off, opened the windows and a did a whole house air exchange. (Usually we reserve this term for a stink so bad it requires more then one window open in the car.)

For the first time in a long time we spent almost as much of our day outdoors as we did in.

Deep breaths everyone....spring is near.

WORKING VS MOTHER

It was a battle last week. The working part of me had busy days. The mother part of me had a child with another ear infection.

Thanks to my family I didn't have to take a day off work. I dumped sicky on Tar with her kids for one day and Googy for another.

But having between 3-4 hours of sleep at night did start to take it's toll.

I had black rings under my eyes and some less than desirable facial blemishes. Everyday added a new one. When I picked sicky up from Tar's house I sat in the car and made a work call. Trying silence a whiny child with an ear infection, I gave him my lips to hold. One minute on the phone and off we go, I buckle up so we can hit the road (I am making an effort not to talk and drive anymore). As I turn I see that my lips (a big tube of Palmers coco butter that looks like a glue stick) had been opened, dug out of the tube with with a tiny finger, and applied all over sicky's face. And my first thought is, well at least I don't wear lipstick.

Another night goes by, another fever to tend to and cries of pain to soothe. But at least it's Friday. As I drive away from Googy and Xave playing choochoo I realize I am make-up less.

I have on my red pants and red pin for Women with Heart Disease (3/4 patients I was seeing that day) and my paler then paler face spotted with "blemishes" and "bags". I decide against turning back home, not wanting to interrupt the bonding and or napping that is going on between a boy and his grandpa. So I head to my favorite store, CVS, to get some new products. Not wanting to duplicate the make-up I already have at home, I decide on a very practical concealer.

And I go RED with my LIPS.

I go red for me and my long week, I go red for mothers, and women. I go red (or maybe dark pink, but it's a clashing thing with the hair) with my LIPS for the first time ever. It made me happy.

And I'm sure it will also look GREAT on Xave.

The Rollercoaster....

The ups and downs of nursing are crazy. There is much more that I thought I would write about it but for now, I think thats about all I should/can/will divulge.

Oh, by the way, is this a Christmas decorating contest? Is there a way I can capture the essenence of the wimpy wimpy wimpy tree with WHITE lights that are ALWAYS ON and COLORED lights that go from s l o w f a d e to seizure causing within seconds?

Probably not, let your imagination take you there. For now feast your eyes. The making of a Christmas card.

Not this kid....

So I slunk the kid into school today with a hat on his head. I tried not to look anyone in the eye as I went past the front desk and into the room. I was looking for the big STOP sign with a picture of a creepy crawly on it warning of HEAD LICE!! FOUND HERE...then a picture of Xave's noggin.

I thought we would be black listed.

No signs, coast is clear.

But of course as we open the door to the room the director of the day care walks out, looks me in the eye and whispers, "how is he?"

I reply saying fine, and shrug my shoulders, not wanting to draw attention to any our conversation.

No sideways glances from the teachers (well maybe one).

And no, maybe it wasn't the work of the louse that put the bites into Xave's head. Perhaps it was the shears used for his first official haircut at Supercuts, but I put out the red alert, and the worst that could have happened is a complete cleaning of the room. Can't be a bad thing to do in this season of illness.

But really look at that face.

Couldn't be his fault.

Floaters

There were floaters in the tub today.

This is a first for me.

I didn't recognize them.

They were foreign.

I don't know how they came to be (I mean I KNOW, but I didn't SEE the ACTION).

They look different in the tub.

And unlike CADDY SHACK, no one (AKA Xave) was screaming DOODY.....

He was calm.

He was cool.

He was collected.

He was handing them to me.

One by one.

With a big S*** eating grin on his face.

Literally.

And I took them.

With my bare hands.

Because I am a mom now.

And that's what you do.

Apparently.

And then we drained the water and took a shower together.

ps....we did not have a photo op with said floaters, so another picture will have to suffice

They tipped.

A beautiful fall day.

I put the garden to bed.

And while I did, they tipped.

No injuries though. So that was good.

So then I separated them. Nonie to the swing. Dec to the john deere.

(and this is picture of sweet Xave, who would never flip Nonie in the red wagon)

Sticker Tag

Tomorrow is a Xavey Day.  I love Xavey Days and I think he does too.

I can't wait to smooch his soft cheeks.

Before he arrives, I will hide all the stickers from Dec...