Simply Simple

I remember, those tiny fingers, searching so endlessly for me, for mommy, as my oldest closed his eyes at night while nursing. Griping my fingers, I watched his little hand close over not only my fingers, but my heart as well. I watched him drift off to sleep, and I thought how all was right in the world, for that moment. It was simple.

I remember picking both of my boys up with then would fall, to comfort them, to pat their little diapered butt and kiss them, telling them it was okay to try again, mommy would always be here to pick them up and dust them off. It was simple.

I remember rocking my youngest to sleep at night, while he snuggled against me. I would breathe in so deeply soaking in the smell of motherhood. Feeling his breathing become long and slow, the moment when I knew he was asleep. I would sit for just one extra minute, loving all of it. It was simple.

Playing with my boys, laying on the floor, throwing them around, playing horsey, while they bounce cheerfully on my legs and say "Ride cowboy, ride". Hearing their giggling, their laughter, with me, with each other. Watching the pure joy in their eyes. It was simple.

When I feel beat by mommyhood, and I cry to myself that I am doing it all wrong. I remember to sit and reflect on all of these simple things. And I remember, I'm not a perfect mom, and my babies, my boys, really are simple. They are simply simple, it is me who makes it complex.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow is another day, and all my love is wrapped up in them, and it's just that simple!

Rain Watching

After having such gorgeous weather here in So. Cal, today was spend rain watching. It's almost as fun as bird watching, and we did see a few of those splashing around out there too.
The boys sat and watched the rain and were disappointed they couldn't go out and ride their bikes, or play basketball, or dig around in the garden, but they sure did squeel watching that rain come down.

Warm California Beaches

I think the wind has finally quit blowing, I can barely see out the window, but I can tell the snow is still falling. It's never this peaceful, it's a piercing quiet, it makes my ears hurt and there is nothing but darkness. I try talking, out loud to my cats to break the silence.

I can't believe how fast and how cold it got in this room after the power went out. I would light a candle but I am trapped under the warmth of the blankets and the heat of the cats huddled next to me. I stroke Tigger's ear ever so gently and try to warm it's tips with my warm hands. He snuggles closer to me and I pull Porky closer. I hope they understand if I could do anything to make it warmer, I would in a heartbeat. But with us huddled together, sharing heat, we are doing okay for now.

My brain is now considering what am I going to do if this lasts a whole lot longer. I have already thought about food on more than one occasion, my stomach lurching with hunger, almost digesting itself, either that or I can actually feel it shrinking. I always have plenty of food in the house, but since the power went off a lot of it is frozen. I would rather deal with the pain in my stomach than eat something that is just going to make me colder. I already have put some canned cat food, that was practically frozen, in a bag and it is now under my leg attempting to get warm enough for them to eat. My heart breaks for my cats, as I never meant for them to suffer in any way! Thank God they are content for the moment.

I slowly drift off to sleep dreaming of warm California beaches and the crashing surf. As cold as it was I must have slept a long time, because I woke to a pounding on the wall, and it was bright in the room, blinding sunlight and that pounding. My brain struggles to wake up, to realize what is going on. Both cats are in the same place, and both are warm. I breath a sign of relief.

I hear my neighbor's voice, my name and more banging. I sit up suddenly and send the cats scrambling for warmth, I open the bag of food that's been warming under my leg all night. They hungrily fight for every last morsel. I assure them there is no need to worry, I have plenty of cat food, and I will warm more later. I, on the other hand, need something to eat, and I'm not hungry enough to eat cat food. The cats finish their meal and don't bother cleaning themselves before they are diving under the thick stack of blankets I have on the bed, they begin to clean each other.

I again, hear my neighbor calling my name and banging on the wall. I shudder with coldness, I move quickly to the closet to get something else to keep me warm. More socks, I know somewhere around here I have some more wool socks, maybe those might help to keep my hands warm too. I move towards the wall where I hear the sound coming from and I try to knock, but my hands are already so cold, it's painful to knock. I frantically search for something, anything to let him know that we are still there, and desperately hoping for some way out. My cell phone has been dead for at least 18 hours now, my cell phone, that's it! I grab it off the night stand and bang on the wall.

He hears me, lets me know they are doing everything they can to get to me, there are several others they are trying to get to as well, but I can't hear any of their names. With all the snow and the several downed trees because of the ice they can't get to me right away. But not to worry, it looks like it won't be much longer. Another day perhaps.

I start to cry, I'm flooded with emotion. All this quiet and coldness, and being alone in my own head, I wonder how much longer I can take this, it's been 4 days already. I just want to be warm again, to be safe, and fed. I want my cats to again feel comfortable, at least I was able to feed them. I wouldn't be in this position if I had agreed to stay at a friends, but I couldn't take Tigger and Porky as my friend was allergic to cats. I couldn't leave them to fend for themselves. I climb into bed next to them once again, warming myself as well as them as best I can. I tell them how sorry I am, I cry into their fur, and they snuggle closer once again. In their own way they are hugging me and telling me it's okay, that THEY are ok, they will hang in as long as I do.

I, once again, am exhausted with emotion, my body shivering, rocking me gently to sleep. I again dream of laying on a warm California beach listening to the pounding surf.

This is my feeble attempt to improve my writing skills through the Red Dress Club.

And this is a semi true story, I was stuck in an ice storm for 4 days with no heat or power while living in Michigan, but I wasn't trapped, I did go to work every day, and I did worry about my cats all day long, I did go home every night and huddle with them in the dark. If it lasted much longer I was going to pack them up and bring them into work just so they could be warm too!

Left Behind

Last week, I talked about a time in 7th grade, my best friends decided they didn't want to be friends with me anymore. You can read more about that post here.

I don't think I've ever felt more alone or more left out in my whole life.

I can remember wandering around school after that horrible lunch. I bought my lunch with my lunch ticket and it went right in the trash. I couldn't even eat. I went into the bathroom, I sat in a stall and cried and cried and cried. I couldn't do it long, people kept coming in, and I didn't want them to see me cry.

My whole world had come crashing down, I had known nothing else. What was I going to do? Who was I going to sit with on the bus? Who was I going to be? We were always together, the 3 musketeers. And now? I was alone.

I didn't want to go back to school, I didn't want to have to face anyone, see them in the halls talking and laughing. Laughing at me more like it.

It took me quite a while to get back into the grove of things, I ate my lunch by myself out on the field, alone. I wrote a lot of notes that were passed to no one. I spent a lot of time at school alone.

Why did I want to be friends with them anyways? 9 times out of 10 people didn't like those few people that I used to hang out with because they were nasty, they didn't care about people's feelings. And I should be happy, relieved almost, that I was not associated with them anymore.

But I didn't. I missed them, and that crowd. I was left behind, and left out of everything.

I don't think I ever got over being left behind, but I know that now, despite being insecure in a new situation, and sometimes painfully shy, I know I'm a good person!

So I'm putting it all out there this year, two conferences, I am even going to be rooming with some really great women for BlogHer!! So it's lots of new people and faces, and hopefully a ton of fun and a lot of memories!!

Here's to everyone attending Bloggy Boot Camp in San Diego, and BlogHer '11! Can't wait to meet everyone!!!

Brought to you by MamaKat!

Everything's coming up Cherry!

You'd think it was summer, or even Spring.....


The Cherry Blossoms are already in bloom in these parts!
It's been in the upper 70's here lately and the cherry blossoms are going crazy!
Now when the Santa Ana winds kick in tomorrow, it will look like it's snowing when all those blossoms are blown off the tree!

Falling Karma

These are my little clowns....and as they get older I am considering changing my blog name from "My Little Miracles" to "My Little Clowns"

Sue they look all cute and adorable, but do NOT let that fool you.
They, together are T to the R to the O to the U to the double B to the L to the E, TROUBLE!

I feel sorry for me in years to come! =) I know my mom won't feel an ounce of sympathy for me, especially when she reads this post.

Let me just tell you a little about how life in our circus tent went this evening.

We are sitting in my bedroom watching Toy Story3 as Daddy had the TV in the family room occupied watching his Steelers win! and for the record I am a die hard Titans fan!!

SO, our TV is on a tall dresser, the boys are standing in front of said tall dresser, and Christopher decided to outstretch his arms and run towards the dresser and smack into it. So then of course Thomas follows suit.

I ask them to please stop and there are other things on the dresser that may fall off and break not to mention the TV may fall off onto their heads!

Do they stop? Of course not! (that's another thing we are working on, listening the FIRST time)

So they continue on and I have to get off my all comfy spot on the bed to make them stop.

Christopher steps back to lean against the bed and he misses and falls over onto his butt and looks up at me....as if I did it.

I said to him "You know what that is called? that's called Karma"

Thomas proceeds to look at me and then at Christopher and then back at me and he says "NO it's not, it's called FALLING".

Great! I had to stifle my laughter!

But it did make me think of some of the stuff my brother and I did and said to my mom at about 7 and 9. I can't imagine what these two clowns are going to bring into the big top then!

I should have.....

"Why does he have to be so mean?" Heather asked

"I don't know hun, because he loves you?" Mom said

"Oh I don't think I would call that love, would you?" Heather said

"He's just worried about how you will turn out." Step Mom said

"How can I turn out to be anything at all if he is always putting me down and shoving me around, I'm 13 you know?" Heather stated

"I know you are, and you are getting older, just act a little more responsible, fly under the radar and you'll be fine." Step Mom said

"Fly under the radar? I thought that is what I was doing, sitting here minding my own business, doing the dishes and he flips out? Starts putting me down, pushing me around, and then sends me to my room?" Heather says

"I know, and I wish I could explain what he was thinking" Step Mom said

"I think he's psycho, I can't wait to get out of here!" Heather said

"I think if you were to leave he'd be really bummed, you are his favorite daughter." Step mom said

"I'm his ONLY daughter, and he better treat me better, quit pushing me around, or I will be gone." Heather stated

"Well don't grow up too fast, and just chill, you'll be 18 before you know it" Step mom said

"Yeah whatever, I still can't wait" Heather said

This is an actual conversation between my ex Step daughter and myself, after a night when her father decided she wasn't washing pots right, and freaked out on her and got in her face and pushed her up against a wall. I never stepped in, I never said a word, I didn't feel it was my place, I should have.
She did leave, she did go back to her moms as horrible as it was there, just to get away from him, and probably me.
I should have done something, because a few years after that, I was at the brunt of his psycho-ness.
I'm glad both her and I got out.

This is a writing prompt from The Red Dress Club, the prompt? Dialogue.

Cooking up some Imagination

So I am fighting with myself as to when it the perfect time to throw my children into the throws of all things outside of home.

Thomas has asked to play the soccer they have at his school....it's like 40 minutes once a week and they want me to pay $120 for 8 weeks? Umm yeah, how about we wait a couple of years Bud, like when you can understand that you don't use your hands in soccer! You don't pick up the ball and run screaming because someone touched it...it's a team sport, it's okay when they touch the ball!

So we decided on cooking class. That's right, a cooking class for a preschooler. And they say they don't just make sweets. Out of the 8 classes he took, he made cupcakes, he made these cookie things that look like a hamburger, they made cookies, oh wait....one time, they made mac and cheese. That's healthy and good right?

Ok so anyway, he cooks, he actually gets to mix stuff and measure it out and he cooks. I think that in and of itself uses his imagination as to all the things he can learn to make and do. It helps that his daddy likes to cook and he is the mixologist in our house. Thomas is forever asking to help! He helped Grandma S. make deviled eggs at Thanksgiving. He helped Grandma make coffee cakes and cookies and banana bread and such at Christmas.

And now, he and his brother have their own set of stainless steel cooking pots and pants and little whisks and pasta scoops. They LOVE them, they play with them all the time, for hours! They pour, they mix, they serve each other, the make us lunch and dessert and all kinds of stuff. The imagination runs all kinds of wild!

I do want them to get into sports....or in Thomas' case, dance, because that kid has got some moves!!! But I think they are a little young, for some of the things I want them to get into. Plus, key word being I want, I also want them to chose what they want to do. But on MY list? Soccer, Baseball and football!

And if my oldest wants to be the next Guy Fieri, creating yummy foods that everyone loves, I'm all for it!

So I am all for extra curricular activities in moderation, because with some of those things you find inspiration and imagination!

Well I can't get MamaKat's brand new button to work....so I'll get right on that, but in the mean time head to her place to see it!

STRESS? At 3 1/2?

These days at our house have been filled with pottys!

Thomas' preschool basically told us that he can't be in school until he is potty trained or should I say "Poop trained"

He can be in there, but everytime he has an "accident" or in his case a "purpose" I will need to come and clean him up and get him changed. Well we all know how well that will go over in a job right?

So for the next two weeks he will be poop training at Grandma's, we've been working on this specifically for the last month and a half. If Thomas isn't in school, he is being asked to sit on the potty.

And now? His sleep seems to be affected. He is always tired, he gets up at random times.....4:30 just yesterday morning....uggh!!! His tantrums ensue more often than normal. He seems to have unusual fears these days. He almost fell asleep in his lunch the other day.

See the droopy eyes? Those are NOT normal for my baby!

He's eating normal, well as normal for him, meaning he'd prefer candy, or as in the pic, ice cream, over a sandwich or veggies.

Now I never in a million years thought that preschoolers feel stress. Seriously? What do they have to be stressed about? The play, they nap and they learn....and if you are lucky they will poop in the potty!

But now I am seriously thinking my 3.5 year old is feeling "stressed".

I did some research, And according to Preschool Education, which is my go to for all things preschoolers....

"Typically, preschoolers lack self-control, have no sense of time, act independently, are curious, may wet the bed, have changes in eating habits, have difficulty with sleep or speech, and cannot tell adults how they are feeling.

Preschoolers under stress each react differently. Some behaviors may include irritability, anxiety, uncontrollable crying, trembling with fright, eating or sleep problems. Toddlers may regress to infant behaviors, feel angry and not understand their feelings, fear being alone or without their parent, withdraw, bite, or be sensitive to sudden or loud noises. Feelings of sadness or anger may build inside of them. They may become angry or aggressive, have nightmares, or be accident prone."

And here I thought my 3.5 year old was just being 3.5 years old. Apparently the tantrums he has are NOT normal. And now I am thinking different. We are working with him to talk about what's going on with him. He's started putting his fingers in his mouth when he is particularly upset. He will just randomly get angry at his little brother and yell at him "Fine, I don't want to be your friend anymore!"

Which always makes me laugh because I think, you may not want to be his friend, but you will always be his brother! But I digress. *ahem*

So now that I've learned all this information, I am still not going to stop the poop training, but I think I can be a little more sensitive and patient to what's going on with him. Because if what he is eating now can be a sign of how he will eat the rest of his life, how we, as parents, help him deal with stress now, might make him a little more successful at dealing with it later on in life!

So now you know, Stress is a very real thing at any age!

Do you remember your 1st time?

Do you remember your 1st time?

It has been so warm this past week here, that it was about time Christopher had his 1st ice cream cone, he's had ice cream before but not his very own cone....and he sure did love it!

Maybe 7th grade might fade

"Hey, I was just over talking to Kristen and Pam, and they wanted me to tell you that they don't want you to hang out with them anymore" she said

(and yes Kristen and Pam are their real names, because changing them only protects the innocent and that is something they are not...yes I'm still bitter haha)

"Ummm, oh? Why is that?" I said as I can feel the lump building in my throat

"I'm not sure, but they don't want to be friends anymore, they don't want you to sit at 'the table' anymore." she said.

I was in 7th grade, and Kristen, well she was my best friend since kindergarten....Pam? She came along in 6th grade.

Apparently I didn't wear the right clothes, I had lunch tickets instead of my mom dishing me out 10 bucks every day. My dad died 2 years previous and my mom was struggling to make ends meet for both my brother and I. And the two people that I trusted the most.....my best friends in the whole world, two female friends, betrayed me. Why didn't they just come up and tell me "You are not good enough"

So obviously everyone knew, because when I went back to get my back pack from "our table" the whispers started. Trying to hide my emotions, I took my things and left!

At that time, I didn't know where to go, what to do, or who to turn to. You know there was the group that was told not to associate with me, I was a loser. Who cares what I may have to offer. I'm a good person, I'm friendly, I'm funny, I have a good heart, I would give you the shirt off my back if you asked. But it wasn't about that, no one cares about that.

I could never imagine treating a friend the way that they treated me! EVER!

Sure I've had friends, female friends since then, but it took a lot for me to trust them. I get along better with male friends, they don't have the drama, they don't care if you wear the right jeans or if your hair is cut a certain way. They don't play the he said/she said. In high school, I learned to be friends with everyone. I was judgemental because that protects ME. That helped protect me from ever having what happened to me in the 7th grade happen again. But I was still friends with everyone.

I had a friend in high school who would tell all the "popular" girls "Oh my God, you are so beautiful, your hair, it's gorgeous, I love it" and they would fall all over her and the minute they walked away she would say "Uggh, she's so ugly and so fake", and guess what? They loved her. THAT was her "in" with all those people.

Me? I was honest, I was friendly, and I knew a lot of people, but was not "popular" in any sense of the high school meaning.

Now?

I feel as if I struggle in every way to still fit in. I try to engage people, or should I say Women. I try to be the only me I know how to be. And I still feel like no matter what? I'm never good enough.

I went to conference in San Francisco, and apparently I didn't meet half the people that went.

Why?

Because I felt like I wasn't good enough. I met some really wonderful women, empowered women, women who I would love to know, and I've tried, and in the end, I still feel like I'm just not good enough.

I learned so much, I went back to the hotel room and couldn't shut up about all of it to the hubs, he listened patiently, he was excited because I was excited.

He asked if I was going to the "after party" and my response....with the same lump in my throat and the pain in my heart....No... No I'm not, because I don't know anyone, and it just felt like everyone knew everyone and I was on the outside looking in.

I'm always friendly, and I'm always genuine, but I am always thrown back to 7th grade when that one person told me I wasn't good enough for my two best friends in the whole world, and my life and views on friendship changed drastically.

My brain tells me that I should be me, be the best me I can be and if someone else doesn't like who I am, then it's their loss. I am a confident person, I know I'm a good person, and if someone doesn't want to stick around or get to know me better than it's their loss. But my heart? My heart says something different.

So I am going to another conference in March, and I am throwing myself outside of my comfort zone, and I'm going to meet everyone and be in everyone's face and hope....pray, that I feel accepted.

Maybe, after all these years, 7th grade might fade!

When life makes sense

The shine,
I see it, from here.
I feel it, all over.
The warmth you feel from the sun.

I look back,
I see it, Chaos
My heart,
jumbled, angered
I feel it,
and I hate that I give someone that kind of power.

I look forward,
Down the road, That glint,
I see it, the beach,
The sun sparkling on the water.

I want to run….
Run as fast as I can, To the beach
Right to the surf,

Feel the water, crash over me,
Wash away all of it
Hear the water close over my ears
Peace, silence
All seems right in the world again

I want to lose my life in the surf,
If only for an hour,
Then maybe life will make sense again!

The Scar that is Forever!

Disclaimer: Tear jerking post. Last time I didn't warn everyone, y'all said I should have....so this time the disclaimer is there! And this is a repost!

I have many scars, scars on my knees, scars on elbows, I even have a scar on my face from recent removal of cancer cells, but I'm not ready to share pics of that scar yet.

But the scar that is forever....Aside from the loss of my father, and you can read that story here.

My Brother....ahh what can I say about my brother. He was wonderful, he was sweet and caring...and he was the biggest pain in my butt! And I miss him.

My brother...my only sibling, my biggest rival, my bestest friend, my fiercest protector, my biggest comedic relief....and I miss him.

I remember the morning that wound was slashed opened, I had just come off having the flu for 2 weeks, it was memorial weekend, I had called my brother on Memorial Day...his room mate said he wasn't home but he'd have him call me when he got home. He never called. I was told the next morning by my husband at the time as he woke me up "Your brother was killed". My brain told me he said HIS brother was killed. I sat up, immediately and said OMG I'm so sorry. He said NO, listen to me for a minute, your brother was killed, and I said I know I'm so sorry, what can I do, and he said again....hear me, YOUR brother, not MY brother....YOURS!

WHAT? No way, and why do you know this before me, why didn't my mom call me? This isn't happening. I felt sick to my stomach. I just called him yesterday, he didn't call me back...he can't go until he calls me back! I didn't get to tell him I miss him, I didn't get to tell him to come visit me, I didn't get to tell him I loved him, I didn't get to tell him all the things I wanted to always tell him, and I hate him for not calling me back!

I lived in San Francisco at the time, he lived in So Cal. And I didn't get to see him as often as I would have liked, and I miss him! He was getting on the freeway, and was probably messing with his radio, he hit the curb, he over corrected and flipped his truck down the embankment, the truck landed on top of him, suffocating him.

My mom, physically ill from the moment she drove past the accident on the opposite side of the freeway. My mom always had that 6th sense, she would get violently ill whenever we were in trouble. A trait she has passed on to me when my children get hurt.

I was told no one could go unless they had permission...in your heart, in your soul...you give people permission to pass on. I never gave him permission. I was only 23...I still needed him, there was so much more time I needed! Children, his and mine....marriage...his. Nieces and Nephews, his and mine. Growing up, growing old...always poking and shoving and slapping the whole way. I miss him!

I knew he was a tortured soul, he told me he was, his writings said so, and even when he could be the comedian, I knew what he was feeling inside. The doctors always told him that if he didn't change his ways he was going to die at the age of 25...it didn't matter, he died at 25 anyway. And that scar in my heart still remains, it will always be there.

I've made peace with it in my soul...but the scar is still there. I hate him for leaving, and I love him for all that he was! He will forever be a part of my soul. He is a soul set free to fly. He is my brother, and I miss him!

My oldest son carries his name. Thomas....and in so many ways my son reminds me of my brother! He will always be around....in spirit, in name, and he resides in my soul, and I miss him!

In Loving Memory of Thomas Joseph, 8-4-70 to 5-28-96.

Brought to you by Mama Kat, head on over to her place to see what else she has to offer!

Breathtaking

The sky over Lake Sherwood at sunset!! The picture doesnt do it justice....it was breath taking!!!

What a way to be remembered

I go to the same grocery store every time I need anything from the store.

I've been in there with the hubs, I've been in there with the kids, one at a time and both together, sitting in their infant seats, hanging on my hips, sitting in the carts, basically we've been going there for over 2 years now.

And in that store there are many of the same women still working there. They have children the same age as mine, we talk, we share, we discuss. A trip to the store to get a gallon of milk when one of those girls are working may take as long as 30 minutes when I live 2 minutes from the store.

I came home the other day and I started talking to the hubs.

"Hey, I was talking to Jen*, you know the one over at Albertsons?"

"That's the blond one right?" the hubs says

"Yep that's her" I replied

"What'd she have to say?" he asked

"Well, I guess she has to go have a colonoscopy and you know how they usually give people that junk to drink that makes them like literally clear themselves out?" I said

"Umm yeah, I guess" he says

"You know, it's like some liquid stuff and you take it and within like an hour you basically live on the throne until morning when you go in for your appointment?" I said

"Well I guess so, I've never had one so I don't know" he states

"Well okay I've never had one either, but you've heard and seen the stuff right?" I said

He looks at me oddly "Anyway, what about it?" he says

"Well I guess they don't give that to you now, instead she took this like 64 ounce jug of Gatorade and had to mix it with a whole jar of Miralax (which is what we give Thomas to keep him regular), can you believe that? A Whole jar....in Gatorade, for a procedure, in the morning, that's crazy huh?" I said

"Great, Thanks Babe, now every time I go in there I am always going to remember her for just that, Gatorade and a colonoscopy!" he says

"Oh stop you don't even know who she is" I insist

"Yes, I do, she's the blond, with a little boy Christopher's age, and his name is Christopher" he says

"Ohh umm, yeah....that's her, Opps, okay well don't tell her I told you okay!" I laughed.

What a great way to be remembered by right? Oh I so hope he can look her in the eye when he goes in there next, you know, when I send him over there to buy Gatorade and Miralax!

Oh and? Her procedure went well....and I didn't tell the hubs about what she told me tonight about what happened while she was in there, it will just be our little secret! In fact I kinda wish she didn't tell me!

*Jen is not her real name, in case she reads this post. =)

A, B, C's of short term goals

Another year has come and gone, which just means I am getting older.
Beyond my wildest imagination, I never thought I would be where I am today, with 2 children.
Christopher is coming into his own, talking more and more.
Depending less and less on me to figure out what his needs are.
Either that or he's known all along and just enjoyed all the frustration and Fear I've felt when it comes to his speech.
Falling behind what was expected of his age range was more terrifying for me!
Good thing he did not feel any of that fear.
However, I am sure he did see it in my eyes when he refused to repeat even the simplest of words.
I did have him tested for any kind of learning disabilities, including Autism, which came out negative.
Just in case, he has a language development/speech therapist coach until he is 3.
Kids can be so mean when another kid is different, so I am hoping to have him up to his age range by next year.
Lynda, his nursery school teacher, says he is spot on with learning his numbers and appropriate play!
My hope is just that he is happy while he is learning and at school.
Next year he will be learning all sorts of new things, and I hope his language and speech will not delay him.
Otherwise, we will just work harder to at least keep him in with his peers.
People I know who have had the same problem keep telling me not to worry and giving me all kinds of helpful hints.
Quizzing him with flash cards helped a friend of mine's daughter learn a bunch of words.
Reminding myself not to sweat the small stuff, it will all work out in time, is really hard.
Sometimes I worry that both the boys will not like school as much as I did when I was little.
Thomas, so far is loving preschool, and can't wait until he can get there every morning.
Unfortunately they are telling me if I can't get him potty trained fully in two weeks time, I might not be able to send him back.
Virtually all the kids are potty trained in his class, but those that have an accident now and then do not have a 20 minute tantrum about it.
We will keep trying, we are determined to get Thomas potty trained so he can go on play dates without me.
Xavier, his buddy at school keeps asking him to come over to play, but I would hate for him to have an accident and have someone else have to clean it up.
Yes, I am just that considerate!
Zoinks!!! In 26 short sentences I have accomplished telling you what my short term goals are as a parent for both Christopher and Thomas!

(yep, you read that right, I just channeled my inner Shaggy from Scooby Do by saying Zoinks!)

This is my 1st attempt at a Red Dress Club, Red Writing Hood prompt. I only hope it can live up!

Drink, Drank....DRUNK!

"Erin's moving back to California....let's have a party and get her drunk"

This is the start to the night.....
"I'll have a few drinks but I'm not getting tanked or anything, I so want to enjoy this"

"A Shot? ABSOLUTELY, bring it on, I LOVE Tequila"

"Me, so happy" This is probably about 10 shots in!

Now we are not only drinking shots....but something called a "dirty girlscout" Yeah don't ask me....Kara picked that one....and I was a strict good tequila, some beer and some Malibu Rum type of girl. But what the heck.....

18 shots in....."Of course I can put the shot glass in my mouth....don't believe me.....WATCH THIS"

"Cheese? Nahh it's all Lemon"

22 shots of tequila, 2 dirty girlscouts and 3 beers later.....I. Was. DRUNK! But I still managed to text, ask the hubs, who wasn't the hubs at the time, but was receiving those semi coherent texts! HA!

That was the last time I was ever THAT drunk, and all my friends in Michigan still talk about it to this day.

Oh and did I say that I didn't get sick! Yeah I am still the talk of the party circuit!

And now? all my friends in CA say "When can we get you THAT drunk?"

My response....."Probably on the 5th of NEVER"

Thanks Mama Kat for that little reminder! My head is hurting already!

Only a moment

I often worry about how others see me as a mom. There are all the age old debates, cloth vs. disposable. Breast vs. formula....and how by choosing all these make you either a good responsible mom or they make you the worst mother in the world, depending on who you talk to.

My boys....they are now 3.5 and 2, and I love them both so very much. But at one time....I was afraid that wasn't going to be the case. I have always wanted a child, and when they said I would never have one, all I wanted was ONE. I wanted just one....if someone upstairs liked me, I could have just one.

I had just one, and despite him being dang HUGE! He was perfect in every way! I did everything I could for him, I nursed him to the best of my ability. Let me just tell you that looks ARE deceiving. I look like I can feed an army of babies....but in reality I had a hard time just feeding one. But I did the best I could. I loved him with all my heart. His smile melted me, his laugh soothed me. And I was complete.

And then we discussed it.... And TADA I'm pregnant. Thomas was 9 months old. And then my brain kicked in.

What did I do? How is this new baby going to affect this wonderful bond I have with my 1st born son. How am I going to do this. This is a mistake.....my 2nd son is going to change everything. Having this baby is going to make my oldest feel left out, and alone, and horrible. What an awful mom I am....how dare I do this to the baby I wanted to much, how selfish of me.

And then, Christopher came, much to early. I was worried, I was worried something was so wrong, and I worried about being away from Thomas. After they took Christopher from me and into the NICU and then into a different hospital, I was left alone....in my brain, alone. BAD BAD BAD! That is the worst place to be after a birth, alone in your brain with hormones ranging through your body....that PPD hits HARD!

I missed Thomas, and I wondered how hard this was on him. I missed Christopher, a baby I didn't even have a chance to know yet, and I worried about him.

When he finally came home, 5 days after being in the NICU, I was home, with my baby....my 1st born son, for a whole day before Christopher was allowed to come home. And I spent it crying! I cried for him, I cried for how his whole world was about to change. And I cried for how much he was going to hate me.

I brought Christopher home, and I cried for how sweet he was, and I cried because I wasn't feeling connected to him. He wouldn't nurse, he just wanted to be left alone, and I cried. Thomas was awake for hours at a time, and would sleep for 30 minutes, even at a week old, he was the worst sleeper and he needed me. Christopher, quite the opposite, he slept all the time, and only needed me for 30 minutes, and I hated that! I hated how he didn't need me, and I hated how I was trying to force something that just wasn't there.

The next morning a nurse showed up to check on Christopher, and I cried...she thought it was because I was worried about Christopher. And I allowed her to believe that. I let her think it was Christopher I cried for, I let everyone think that....it wasn't. I cried for Thomas, I cried for me. And I cried for the horrible mother I was making for Christopher. He deserved more, he deserved a better mom.

I spent my day holed up in my room, and I cried to the hubs and told him that I was afraid I would not have the bond with Christopher that I have with Thomas. Things are different, they are changed and how can I ever be a good mom, a special mom to Christopher. My brain was going crazy and I cried A LOT!

I felt this way for a long time, I felt I didn't have a bond with Christopher, I was worried I never would. He was beautiful, and he melted me just as Thomas did, but he didn't look at me the way Thomas did. He didn't smile for me the way Thomas did, he didn't laugh for me the way Thomas did, and I was missing that bond. I didn't want that bond, I wondered what was I thinking by having a 2nd child? I didn't want Thomas for even a second to feel anything negative. And I hated myself for feeling disconnected!

Until that fateful night when he was 4 months, that he woke at 1am and couldn't breathe, and I didn't hesitate for a second, I took him to the ER and that is where we remained for 3 days, in the hospital. I held him next to me, I comforted him, I sang softly to him, I felt his struggle for breath, and my heart broken when they did treatments on him, when he cried all I wanted was for them to leave him alone, to stop making him cry and to give me my baby. It was then that he and I "became one". I did leave him once, to run home and take a shower, and it did break my heart that my 1st born was sick as well and didn't want me, he wanted Grandma. As much as my heart sank, I couldn't be concerned with that, I knew he was in good hands, and I knew it was only a moment in time.

A moment in time....just one. It is a moment that created both of my boys, it took only a moment for me to love them both, and it took only a moment for all of my fears of never having a bond with both my boys to be gone.

I love both my boys with all of my heart, I love them for different reasons, Thomas, a total ham in his own right, he is out going and happy-go-lucky, he carries his dad's smile, and he has that inner clown in him, he is a true comedian. Christopher....he is sweet natured, and calm, he brings out the best in everyone, he warms even the coldest of hearts, and he is quiet, yet fierce and he is coming into his own and I wouldn't trade a moment of that time, of those tears, of that bond.

That was one of the hardest times of my life as a mom. And I am bonded....bonded by love, in only a moment.

After reading this post from Kris at Pretty All True, I remembered I started this post and never hit publish, for fear of the judgement that might be passed. Thanks Kris for reminding me that I might actually be NORMAL! I know, perish the thought!

One Brother for Sale

Even though I know he would sometimes love to sell his brother for a buck, he never would!

Some things never fade

I have a memory like an elephant. I never forget anything, at least most things I don't forget.

Today marks the birthday of my dad. A dad I was only able to know for 10 short years.

He would be 72! Hard to believe as he will forever be 44 in my eyes!

I do not remember the sound of his voice, or his laughter. I do not remember what he smells like. I saw a picture of him about 2 years before he died and I do not remember his hair being that gray. And it pains my heart to not remember any of these things.

But I do remember so very much more.....

I remember he took us to school every morning, as it was on his way to work. He was a quiet man, and I often wondered what was going through his mind.

I remember hearing him come through the door at the end of the day and I remember running to see him. I would jump into his arms and yell "DADDY", he was always happy to see us kids, and he always had a smile for us!

I remember his love of cars. We had a Chevy Malibu and a Chevy Caprice. And he knew those cars like the back of his hand.

I remember as quiet of a man as he was, I remember you could hear his heart beat from across the room as he had an artificial Steel heart valve.

I remember the last thing he ever said to me, and the touch of his gentle hand.

I remember the last time I saw him, and I remember what I said to him, and I remember how I didn't understand, but I hoped he did, even if he didn't open his eyes.

And I will always remember his birthday, January 4th. And I will always say my own silent birthday wish, and hope that somewhere, someway he is listening.

And I hope that he knows that some things will never fade....a little girl's love for her dad!

Forgive the pic quality, I spilled water on it, and can't find the original pic!