And Then They Do…

When I was pregnant with Kayla, I couldn’t wait to give birth. If I could have, I probably would have fast forwarded through the entire pregnancy just to meet my little girl. In all fairness, I did have an awful pregnancy that resulted in bed rest, but nevermind that. I still could not wait for the day that I had her. And then I did.

They said she was not ready yet, but she apparently had plans of her own. On the day of my 34th week, she came. Quickly, I might add. I had my little girl, and I couldn’t wait to hold her.

Then I couldn’t wait to take her home. Then I couldn’t wait until she slept through the night. Then I couldn’t wait for her to sit up. And then she did all of these things.

Last night I realized something. At every pivotal moment in my child’s life, I have always been a step ahead.

Oh wow! Look hunny! She is crawling! Oh I can’t wait for her to walk!

I know I like to say I enjoy every moment of it as it happens, and I do. But there is always the excitement for the next step.

It wasn’t until last night that the realization dawned on me that my daughter really is growing up. It wasn’t because of some milestone I had been anticipating, it just happened out of the blue. She is picking up things, and putting them into different contexts. Yesterday, I told Kayla that I had to go back to work tomorrow.

“You have to go to work namorrow?” (for some reason, that’s how she pronounces tomorrow)

Yup. It’s Monday.”

“Oh. I go to work too!”

“Oh! You have to go to work tomorrow too?”

Yeah, I need some money in my pocket do I go to work too. I money hungry!”

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. My step father is always saying that he is money hungry, but it represented something more. She is having her own conversations, and understanding what they mean. It was bittersweet. She is a little person, not just a toddler.

This reminds me of the song Then They Do by Trace Adkins, which conveniently was my father/daughter song. You look forward to all the things they will do as they grow up, and then they do and you don’t realize how much you miss the past.

So, treasure your children. Or your pet’s. Or your siblings. Things are always changing, and you will never regain that moment again.

Kayla and Kylie a few weeks ago at Loon Mountain Village – Picture taken by Mark Richard

Evening: A Thought of Family Moments

As the glow from my wedding, and relaxation from my honeymoon begin to fade, I am once more introduced to reality. Last night, I clung to the hope that my vacation could last forever, but alas the stack of bills neatly piled on my counter top near glared at me for even thinking such a thing.

Come morning, I would once again dive back into the daily grind; heading back to work to an unspeakable amount of emails, none of which were particularly pleasant. So to help alleviate that awful thought, my little family and I decided to bust open that top tier of our wedding cake that were were supposed to be saving for our first anniversary. Lets face it. That is just plain nasty. Even my aunt, who is a pretty fantastic lady, said it was absolute disgusting. So in order to make sure such wondrous cake did not go to waste, we sliced it up and devoured it. Our timing was not the best, as it was around 8:00pm when we decided to stuff our faces with sugary goodness. As one can expect, this did not bode well for my little one’s bed time. This little oversight turned into our first, post-marraige family time.

We curled up on the sofa with our bundle of sugared up energy and put on a movie. Safely tucked away in a nice warm blanket, She cuddled between us as watched Puss in Boots. The movie was pretty bad, but the moment was incredible. She laughed, excited over the kitties, and giggled whenever they meowed. She thought Humpty Dumpty was a “white poopie” for a little while, but after a few stifled giggles we explained to her that he was not a poopie, but an egg. She didn’t buy it.
Movie time is something that we have done many times. In fact, we generally try to do it every week. I don’t know why, but there was something special about it last night. Perhaps it was because I was looking for something incredible to wrap up my vacation, but I strongly believe that it was because it was the first time we had done it as a family, bound in love and marriage.

Then of course, her daddy farted and Kayla and mommy quickly relocated to the other side of the couch. While it lasted, it was a truly amazing moment.

Toddlers: A Thought on Birthday Parties

Handling a birthday party that is not your child’s: Not fun.

My daughter is two, actually she is two and a half! As such, there are a few universal qualities that one can expect. First and foremost, everything is hers. If she likes it, its hers. If it’s purple, it is most definitely hers. If she, at one time in her short life, touched it, then its hers. As much as I try to dissuade this behavior, it seems stubbornly imprinted in her genetic code.

The birthday Girl: Kylie! Isn’t she just too cute?

Today we had a party for my wicked cute niece who turns two next Saturday. We had her party this week because her big obnoxious Auntie (or Tee Tee as she calls her) is selfishly getting married on the most sacred days of her little childhood. Yes, I am that cruel. In all fairness, I did buy her an adorably cute little cake that matched the top tier of my wedding cake with a pretty pink K scrawled on it, so I am not totally heartless. Anyhow, back to my original point. There were presents at this party, presents my beautiful little two and a half year old could not keep her hands off of.

“No no, Kayla those are Kylie’s presents!” Yes, there names are close, blame my sister. Then again, I have an older niece Kiley and I named my daughter Kayla so I guess you can blame me too. Getting derailed again, man I am bad at that! Despite the constant scolding, my daughter needed to get into the presents. She also just had to have the birthday girl princess tiara. Luckily Kylie was not a fan of things on her head so she did not object to my daughter swiping her crown.

My beautiful little thief with her stolen crown 🙂

Then it came time to sing happy birthday. Kayla loves when people sing happy birthday. Actually, let me correct that. Kayla loves when people sing happy birthday to her. She did not like singing to Kylie, which was shown when she burst into tears. Of course everyone thought it was because we were singing loud, but I know the truth. She didn’t get to sit in front of the cake, and everyone wasn’t singing to her. For as shy as my daughter is, she certainly likes attention if it concerns birthday. That could be cause she associates birthday with birthday cake. Seriously. When she sings happy birthday, its not Happy Birthday to you!” its “Happy Birthday Cake to you!” (but she totally means happy birthday cake to me). Yeah I know, she’s wicked cute.

After the cake fiasco passed, we came to the dreaded time that had my skin crawling from the beginning, the presents. Now I refuse to be one of those parents that goes and buys a gift for their kid simply because its another kid’s birthday and they will be getting a ton of presents. So this is how the present opening went.

Kylie opens present. Kylie gets excited for presents. Kylie opens next present. Kayla swipes recently opened present. Kylie wants swiped toy back. Mommy interferes and gives Kylie her new toy back. Kayla has a meltdown. Kylie forgets toy as next toy is opened, and conveniently so does Kayla. Then we repeat.

It was only through great patience, and quick moving parents that we were able to stop a full on toddler brawl. Well except for the plane fight, that one just sort of happened. No bruises though, and thirty seconds later they were happily playing together with all the toys. They are like sisters, Kylie and Kayla. They have a love hate relationship that looks eerily similar to the one I share with my own sister. Luckily, we have moved past the point of fighting over things… most of the time.

 

Have you experienced this issue with your children? What is the best way you have found to surpass the EVERYTHING IS MINE, MINE I TELL YOU, MINE! stage?

Mornings: A Thought on Alarm Clocks

Over the past few weeks my household has gone from normal crazy to psychotic crazy. Even my dog has felt the dramatic change in the air and has become increasingly more demanding of my attention. This, as you can imagine, sparks a war between my pooch Zoey and my daughter Kayla. This battle is never more hectic than in the morning, at 6:30am.

My dog is lazy. There really is no other way to describe it. She sleeps a good portion of the day, and when she isn’t sleeping she is resting. She is a bed hog and always likes to curl up at my feet. During the morning, however, when she knows Kayla will be coming in at any moment she moves and curls up against my back. Then, as my door creaks open and the my little curly-haired clone whispers her normal “Good Morning Mommy Daddy”, the mayhem begins. (yes, she calls us mommy daddy, not mommy and Daddy” ) Kayla comes to the edge of the bed, to which my dog growls and grunts in annoyance. She never snaps or makes any other aggressive move, just growls and grunts. If Kayla persists, as in she climbs onto the bed with us, Zoey then begins to whine. She does not want to get up. Lazy thing.

Then the chaos strikes. Kayla yells at Zoey, “No! No Zoey!” and the dog whines more. Kayla yells louder. Daddy grunts and burrows under the pillows. Kayla starts laughing. Zoey keeps whining. Mommy tries to pretend she can’t hear anything. Kayla starts jumping on the bed. The dog starts growling again. Daddy gets cranky (he is so not a morning person). Mommy finally gets up and begins her day.

I brush my teeth. “Mommy I want to brush my teeth.” Zoey practically sits on my feet.

I brush my hair. “Mommy I want to brush my hair.” Zoey is still sitting at my feet.

I put my boots on. “Mommy where my boots go?” Zoey sits next to me trying to get onto my lap.

I grab a coffee. “Mommy I have some coffee too?” Zoey runs around my feet, causing me to trip.

I put my perfume one. “Mommy me too!” Zoey sneezes like crazy because she never moves from my feet.

I grab my purse. “Mommy where my purse go?” Zoey runs to the door, as long as it isn’t more than two feet away from my current position. By now, Daddy is stumbling out of bed.

I give my daughter a kiss, my hubby a kiss, and pat my dog on her fluffy head. I then try to squeeze out the door without allowing either one to follow despite their best attempts.

What is your morning ritual? If you say you wake up naturally, I will hate you! Just kidding. I won’t hate you. Just mildly dislike!

 

 

 

Of Cookies and Tantrums

Dear my beautiful, charming daughter;

You are currently in your room, face streaked with tears. Your little nose, by now, will be filled with boogies, and your too-big-pants are most likely drooped halfway down your bum. You are throwing a tantrum, and a sizable one at that, while I sit on my computer typing this away. Every now and then I can hear you murmur mommy, before the crying picks up once more.

Some may think me cruel for listening to your tantrums, refusing to cater to your needs. I am sorry I did not let you have a cookie, seeing as how we will be eating dinner in less than an hour. I am sorry you found this so unfair that you threw yourself upon the ground screaming out your anger. I am sorry that as I sent you to your room you decided to stomp your adorable little feet and through a little terrible-two-tantrum.

I was patient, at first, ignoring your whining and grumbles. I even used the nice voice and made you smile. But the moment you heard cookie after dinner, the battle was lost. The face contorted, the lower lip quivered, and your little mouth parted to issue the first of many toddler screams. These little shrieks of indignation and anger only increased as you sat in your room, angry at mommy for daring to say no, but that is okay.

Four minutes have passed, and by now you have quieted. I can hear the door open and close as you contemplate exiting. Your cries have stopped, but your temper is still in full force. The little pout on your lips, and the soft sniffle as you look in my direction is proof enough. That is not your I-am-sorry pout, that is your you-yelled-at-sweet-little-me pout. Well, my beautiful little girl, pout all you want. You still can’t eat the cookies before dinner. And now, now you can’t have them after dinner either.

With Love,

Mommy

 

Moms: A Thought about Schedules

Moms: A Thought about Schedules

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last week, I had the amazing opportunity to interview an author I have been following for a while now, Krystal Wade. The details of the interview will be posted once I sit my butt down to actually finalize the post, but let’s not focus on that. During the interview, Krystal mentioned a few things that really got me thinking. Modern mothers have some serious schedules, most without a minute to spare! So what do we do with our time? The better question is what do we not do!

When we go about our day to day lives, we seldom think about how much we are actually doing. Unless we are in a frustrated mood, our busy schedules hardly register. I got to thinking about this because during my discussion with Krystal, we talked about our schedules. So to better understand just how much I have on my figurative plate, I wrote down all the major things I do. This list is just my basic responsibilities, no shopping, no bill paying, no social obligations. These are just the majorities.

First, and most importantly I am a mom. As some of you may know I am the proud mommy of a two and a half year old diva with an obsession for shoes. Those of you that are parents may cringe when I mention her age, and you should! She is in full terrible-twos mode! I am also a soon to be wife to an incredible man who helps make this crazy schedule possible. Without him, I would be lost!

The next thing is obvious, but I should still mention it. I run this blog, which is a complete blast by the way. I actually spend a lot of time reading books to review, reading other blogs to comment on, managing the social media, etc. Many of you understand this, but for those that don’t I will just say that it can be a bit time consuming, although awesomely fun.

When I am not reading, or writing for my blog you can usually find me writing in general. I write my own novels, though I hoard them like a crazy person and refuse to let the world see the big ones, which of course is most of them. Writing for me is a major stress reliever, and even if I only get a chance to write a few sentences before I can no longer keep my eyes open it is worth it.

Now for the nitty-gritty stuff, meaning my job. I work full time at a very time-demanding job that is 40 miles away from where I live. The commute sucks, but hey it’s a hour of peace that enables me to brainstorm my posts, as well as butcher my favorite songs with my loud, off-key voice. My job is great in the respect that I am kept busy, I get to travel, and I get to meet incredible, influential people in the healthcare world. Plus it pays my bills, so I can’t hate on that!

Sound busy yet? No? You need more? Okay great! I am also a full time student majoring in English Language and Literature in hopes of eventually becoming an editor. Sound fun? I certainly think so! It has been such a wonderful experience so far. I am positively thrilled to be back in school, even though it has effectively reduced the amount of sleep I get. Some people have told me I am crazy, but I just smile. Despite the crazy, hectic, often frantic days I am content with my schedule. There is not a single thing I would give up!

Oh! I am also planning a wedding which is happening in three and a half weeks! So raise your glass to the multi-tasking, I-have-more-to-do-today-than-physically-possible mothers in your life! They may not all have schedules like mine, but you can be assured it is just as hectic!

What does your schedule look like?

Hell: A Thought on Mondays

Hell: A Thought on Mondays

Juggling my day to day life is normally something I can do on autopilot. I am a fairly busy woman with a two year old who loves to test her limits. That being said, there are days that things just seem to be too much. This type of day occurred yesterday, which of course was a Monday.

It began with traffic. Not just any traffic, but Interstate 495 traffic. Any of you who have been to Massachusetts and driven on this cursed highway know my strife. Although it is not the worst highway, it is definitely one of them.

Two hours I sat in my car to travel the 39 miles to work. Normally, I can do this in 35 minutes without issue. Not yesterday, no it took much longer. I spent an hour and half of it traveling the last 19.7 miles. That’s an average of 13mph. Do you know what that does to a driver like me? Infuriates them, that’s what. I become obsessively territorial and never let anyone merge into my lane, it makes me hate everyone driving on the other side of the highway going 75mph with ease; oh and let’s not forget how it causes me to spew fire.

Yes, it was an awful start to my morning, which was only further soured by Dunkin Donuts getting my order wrong. Not even partially wrong, I mean seriously wrong. Like the type of wrong that has you scratching your head trying to figure how just how they could have possibly gotten it this wrong. Nope, not a good morning at all.

I breezed into my office with my attempt at hiding my scowl in hopes that I could retire to my cubicle and hide away until lunch and repair my mood. I would have effectively reached my happy level by noon. But oh the universe was against me this day, this awful, wretched Monday! Despite my obvious scowl and clear look of “leave me alone” I am at once bombarded with chaos. Not just normal work day chaos, but complete, and utter chaos. Nothing, it seems, had gone right that day for anyone.

“I need this… I need that… Do this… Do that… Did you forget… Did you forget to remind me…” and so on and so on.  Instead of breathing easy by noon, I was foaming at the mouth and nursing a severe headache.

I know what you’re thinking. Man that sounds like a bad day, but it can only get better from there. Shush. Don’t think. That optimism has no place in my bad Monday blog post! It did not get better, it got worse. Ten times worse! A hundred times even! I would say a thousand, but you get the point.

So what could possibly have happened to make it such an awful day? The electric company happened. Now normally, this would not upset me, but it could not have occurred at a worse time. At promptly twelve thirty, our power went out. My lunch was at 00:17 seconds into its 02:30 minute cooking time. Along with the power went the Air Conditioning. Did I mention it was wicked humid out? My office building jumped 10 degrees in about seven minutes. They are cheap as it is so the AC wasn’t even on a good level to begin with.

It never came back on. For two hours we were not allowed to leave. We had to wait and see. After all, the internet still worked and we all have laptops. It was the rule of thumb that once your laptop died, you could go home. Of course this meant everyone turned up their brightness and played the most energy consuming video they could find. Me? Nope. I could not go home. Remember how I said I was meeting with my doctor come Monday to discuss the whole overweight thing? Yeah, that was in the opposite direction of my home. I would have had to drive that 39 miles back home, just to walk in, give the fiancé and nugget (daughter) a kiss before jumping back in my car and driving 59.8 miles to my doctor’s office. I chose this specific doctor because how close they were to my work. Silly me why would I do such a thing?

So I sat there, in my dark little cubicle for another hour playing Tiny Tower on my phone – Awful game, but horridly addicting. The clock strikes three and I leap up and skip to the door and make my merry way to the doctors where I get totally amped up to lose weight and be healthy. Then she says with an irksome smile, “Great! We will get started after your laps and next appointment. My calendar is booked until November.”

Seriously? I have to wait until November to lose weight? This is where I envision myself throwing a massive hissy fit in my mind, meanwhile in reality I calmly smile and say “That sounds great! Thank you!”

What happens next? Well this horrid driver gets back behind the wheel and drives 1.2 miles before having to slam on her brakes. Guess what it was? I bet you won’t guess it. No, it wasn’t an animal. It was… wait for it…. TRAFFIC! More traffic! As if my day needed any more traffic! It then proceeded to take me another lovely two hours to get home. It was great. The only thing that kept me from spewing the foulest curses imaginable was the fact that the radio was playing great songs. Instead I opened the windows, and belted out the songs in my awful, tone-deaf voice. I am sure I made quite the sight, dancing to my music with my gigantic sun glasses in my little white corolla. Did I mention I am tone-deaf? Oh well, it gave them something to laugh at for two hours.

When at last my little corolla pulled into my garage and I entered my nice cool apartment, I felt myself cringing at what would greet me. I had horrible visions of my child running amuck like they usually do, with my poor fiancé running behind her with a look of exhaustion and panic. I debated on taking a walk before heading in, but I was starving. Instead, I opened the door hesitantly. I was greeted with a sparkling clean apartment, a reheated, but delicious dinner and a ice cold cherry coke zero. I kicked off my heels and dove in, famished since the power outage stole my chance at lunch. My fantastic fiancé even knew better than to ask me how my day was. Once I had successfully put on three pounds by inhaling my pasta, the fiancé and I curled up on the couch with Kayla. This time, it only took a few minutes to reach my happy level.

As we put Kayla to bed, after reading her an incredibly long bed time story, I promptly forgot about the woes of my day. Then I woke up late and remembered how much the universe hates me.