The Day Our Lives Began

Dear Julia,

Today you turned five years old.  You are so excited to be five, but already you've told us you just want to stay five forever.  Trust me, sweet girl, I wish I could freeze this moment, too.

Five years ago at this time, I was sitting in the hospital room, nursing you constantly, and staring at you for hours on end.  I could not believe that you had just come out of me.  You were so perfect and so beautiful.  I watched your daddy change your first diaper and saw you try to hold your head up right from the start.  You've always been precocious.

I had never known love like I felt the moment I first saw you.  You were a surprise baby, and you were the best surprise your daddy and I have ever had.  The moment we became parents was the moment that we became a family instead of just a couple.  The bond that your birth started has just gotten stronger as we've added more siblings, but you started it all.  Before you were born, life had no real purpose; as soon as we met, I knew my purpose in life was to be the best mommy I could be and give you back all the love you make me feel.

I was so nervous when I was learning to be a mom.  I laugh now thinking about how scared I was to give you a bath, how I anguished over dressing you, and whether you were getting enough food.  Or sleep.  Or tummy time.  I must have done something right, because you are simply wonderful.

I want to remember forever that you were just like this at age five:

As a big five year old, you love to read.  You started reading small books when you were three, and now you're up to chapter books.  The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh is what you're reading to us at night right now, and we've decided to throw a Pooh party when you finish it.  I love that you take the time to read to your sister and brother, and books are constantly scattered around our house because you read so many of them a day!

Your favorite movies are any of the Disney Princess movies (sing-a-longs or films), Gumby: The Movie, Muzzy, and all Strawberry Shortcake films.  You watch "Yo Gabba Gabba!" with Brynn and you sing and dance together.  You also enjoy any of the shows on PBS Kids ("Dinosaur Train," "Sid the Science Kid," "Word World").

At night, you listen to The Magic Tree House books on CD, and you have about a million of them!

Playtime for you usually includes Princess figures and your toy Cinderella's Castle.  You come up with elaborate stories for them, and you shout, "Dreams come true!  Dreams come true!," just like you saw them do at Disney World.  One of your scenarios includes every character bringing a gift to the one having a birthday or getting married.  And there are hundreds of them.  You are very dedicated and will not allow us to clean up the mess until you are finished, which sometimes takes days.  Most of my time is spent trying to pick up your figures so I don't step on them.

For Christmas, you got a pink Barbie house, which is another toy getting thrown into the rotation.  You have decided to name your Ken dolls Speeder, John Handsome, and Nickel.  I've only heard one Barbie have a name, and that was Sylvia.

You play Wii games with your dad, and you both yell at the screen, though you have no idea what you're yelling or what it means--you just want to be like him.  Games are some of your favorite things.  We've played Candyland, Chutes and Ladders, Pretty Pretty Princess, Tic-Tac-Toe, and more.  However, you're infamous for scattering pieces all over the house, so we rarely have all the parts we need to play!  Recently, you've started playing Scrabble with us in a modified way.  And you win, because you're definitely a better speller than we are.  Or at least better than your dad, for sure.

I keep thinking that you're growing out of the dress-up phase, but then you see Brynn dressing up and your interest is high again.  The two of you play together and fight together.  I enjoy watching you girls play your made-up games (like "Gifts" and "Princess Party") that have rules only the two of you understand.  And you love your baby brother so much, too.  You're constantly telling him, "I'm right here, buddy.  It's okay, I'm right here."  He calms down when you talk to him or rub his head.  Since he was born, you've spent hours reading him books and giving him toys.  You're such a big help to me.

When you grow up, you say you want to be a chef, a nature photographer, a veterinarian, a doctor, a teacher, a scientist, and a dancer.  You spend lots of time cooking, taking pictures, exploring, experimenting, and dancing, so I have no doubt that you could do all of those things.

You're in a phase of making up jokes, too...except that the punchline is almost always, "Because he was eating beans!!!"  And then, there's your famous one of, "Why did the flower die in the spring?  Because he wasn't a flower at all; he was candy!" 

Uhm...you might might want to work on those.  Not sure you're quite getting the concept of a joke.  And you're funny enough without trying.

You give us so much joy and make us laugh all the time. 

"Reach for the stars, but watch your head!"

"God said, 'Wake up and eat marshmallows.' And we woke up and ate them.  And it was good."

"Oh, really?  I just moved here  from Botswana!"

Pineapple pizza, celery, carrots, apples, peanut butter sandwiches, and chicken nuggets are foods I can always get you to eat. I still water down your juice, but you remind me that you don't want to drink much of it because it has sugar...though you don't seem to mind sugar in the form of candy or cake.

You're a wonderful artist, and your various drawings (especially of rainbows) cover our fridge, art display board, and walls.

I want to remember you as you are at this moment, but I am also excited to watch you grow and accomplish all the things I know you will.  You are kind, funny, thoughtful, compassionate, creative, and determined.  You are the most precious five year old I know.

When all this ice and snow melts, we'll have a Strawberry Shortcake birthday party for you on Sunday, and everyone there will love you and tell you that these five years with us has been the best five years of their lives, just like they have been for your daddy and me.  May you have many, many more years of living life to the fullest.  I am proud to have given birth to you, and I will spend my life in awe of all that you are.

I love you more than you'll ever know.

Love,

Mom

Let's Get Together...Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!

Let me start out by saying that I realize I haven't posted in over a year.  And I also realize that I only had one post to begin with.  That kind of makes me want to bury my head in the sand, but instead I'll just promise that I'll be more diligent in my post-writing.  Since the last time, we've added a new addition to our crew.  He's 4 months old now, and his name is Sawyer.  Julia is 4 (5 in January...YIKES!) and Brynn is now 2.5 years old.  Our family is growing in size, as well as growing up.  And that's all of us, not just the kids!

I decided to start up this whole blog thing because of my friend Miranda, who is the genius behind Not Super...Just Mom.  I will not pretend that my blog will be half as interesting as hers; in fact, I can guarantee that it might be pretty dull in comparison.  However, I realized today in talking with her that if I've got anything at all, I've got stories about my kids.  And these stories need to be documented...maybe not for lots of people to read, but so that I'll have them in the future.  I mean, just tonight I looked at my one (for shame, Jennifer!) post from over a year ago and was so happy to read it.  I remember that day!  My kids were tiny, and fewer in number!  I forgot about that video of Julia reading!  And, yes, I got a little weepy.

It's been nearly five years since I became a mom, and reading a post of Miranda's the other day, it dawned on me that I have had almost no "me time" since then.  It's not because I couldn't have it...I definitely could, as I have an extremely supportive husband.  But I'm just that sort of obsessive parent who hates to leave her kids, even if it's for the benefit of my sanity.  And writing that down makes me realize what a stupid thing that is.  Miranda offered up a coffee meeting, and I jumped on the offer.

Today we met at a Starbucks.  It was me, Miranda, and my nursling son.  No, not total mommy-alone time, but with only 1/3 of my normal distractions.  Brandon was keeping the girls--Brynn was (supposed to be) napping, Julia was playing Legos-- and Sawyer thankfully fell asleep on the drive.  I was thanking the Heavens that I *might* just get a peaceful meeting, but before I even got there I realized it might not be.  Let's all keep in mind that it's rare that I have much adult interaction, especially away from my kids.  I kind of started feeling like I was going on a first date...Would I say something stupid?  Do I look okay?  Will she like me?  Guys, you also have to realize that I've known her for a long time.  Like over ten years.  Safe to assume she thinks I'm okay.  But I am so out of practice, and I was shaking without even having the caffeine yet.

Coffee and cake ordered, we sat down to talk.  I kind of felt like I was missing an appendage without the girls climbing all over me and with Sawyer napping peacefully.  We talked about, what else, our kids.  I started feeling a tiny bit embarrassed because I realized that this is pretty much all I know.  I don't have a job.  My brain doesn't function like it used to.  I'm sort of boring like that.  But she gets it. 

Sawyer woke up and decided to be his cute self and drool all over the place.  He cooed and gooed on me, and he cooed and gooed on her.  After an hour and a half (gasp!  Where did that time go??), I took him to the bathroom to change his diaper.  Okay, Starbucks.  Big fail on your part--there's no changing table.  There was a little table I can only assume housed cleaning products or tampons or something.  And Sawyer was pissed that I had the audacity to change him on that tiny thing.  I dropped his cloth diaper on the floor, then realized I had no wet bag for it, so I just stuffed it in the diaper bag in a plastic bag and hoped for the best.  Then I looked in the mirror and realized that I had completely sweated through my shirt.  I had no time to be embarrassed...okay, I was a little bit embarrassed...but you know what?  I was out of the house.  So I didn't much care.  But I just have to give a big shout-out to my post-pregnancy, currently-breastfeeding, whacked-out hormones for making me all out of sorts, cause doesn't everyone like to look gross on their first date of adult interaction in quite some time??  So the human heater baby may have contributed to the fact that I was burning up, or maybe it was the nerves, or the caffeine, or the fact that it's nearly 80 degrees in November, but I'll do as I usually do and just blame hormones.

We packed up our things (Sawyer's gazillion toys.  And Sawyer.)  and headed to our respective vehicles, and I knew that the ride home couldn't possibly go as smoothly as the one down.  It just never happens that way.  I made it about two minutes down the road before Sawyer was crying.

He was hungry.  And so was I, but babies can't wait, so I pulled into a Chevron to feed him.  I pulled up my shirt, only to realize that I had never even buckled back my nursing bra after feeding him the last time.  Which means I sat through the entire coffee chat with Miranda sans-support.  Just some flaps hanging wide open.  Again, I didn't get too embarrassed, cause I was still not only out of the house, but hyped up on caffeine!

I got Sawyer buckled up again and we were on our way.  Less than a minute later, he was crying.  He had just been changed and fed after waking from a nap, so all that was left was that he wanted to see a human face.  I don't know about you, but I HATE my babies to be crying at all, especially that helpless cry when they feel abandoned in the back seat.  Luckily, Sawyer usually sees his sisters back there, but this time they weren't there, and I felt awful.  I turned on lights for him.  I sang "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," which is usually my go-to song for him.  I did The Reach.

You know The Reach, yes?  When you are driving with one arm while reaching behind you to try to bounce the car seat the less-than-a-centimeter it will budge in hopes of calming the baby?  I was doing The Reach (which wasn't working, by the way) when I realized that I couldn't be the best driver that way.  And luckily about that time I realized that I was already at the red light in front of my house.  I kept up with the singing, and he stopped, of course, as we turned into the neighborhood.

And so I returned home to two girls who acted like I was gone for ages (I love that.), still hot and sweaty and still with my nursing bra flaps open (yeah, so it turns out I'm not great at remembering to fasten those...).  I made some dinner, and I felt relaxed for a few minutes.

I realize that "me time" can be extremely beneficial to the psyche, and even though this was kind of a first attempt at it, I enjoyed it without much guilt of leaving the girls, which is progress.  Once I can fully learn that moms are better when they're refreshed and fulfilled, I think I'll be all set.  And then maybe I'll learn to start fastening my bra.