Afternoons With Jack

After over 3 1/2 years, I've decided the days of Jack taking naps from 2-5pm are over.  (Yes, I'm in mourning.) It's really tragic because I worked SO hard when he was little to get him on a consistent nap schedule and I lived and died by that schedule - my body was programmed based on his sleep schedule.  My whole life was Jack's sleep schedule. 

And now I have to learn to adjust. It's probably as big a shift for me as it is for him.  (And I'm all of a sudden feeling very bad for all those shifts I put him through: weaning, taking away bottles, crib-to-bed transition... it's rough.  Very rough.)  The problem was that we'd start winding him down at 9:30 for bed (which is already too late, in my opinion) and it was getting to be later and later before he'd finally settle in to go to sleep... I drew the line at midnight.  It was taking away all my time with Justin.  It was taking away hours of sleep for me because I still get up early and midnight to 6 am isn't enough.  It was making me frustrated and my temper short and we were all going to bed grouchy and upset with one another.

So the naps had to go.

Sigh.  I miss the naps.

But I am really enjoying it at the same time... When the twins came along, as elated as I was to be adding to our family (and twice!), a small part of me was incredibly sad to be losing my relationship with him as an only child.  With the exception of the hour between when the girls went to bed and when we started putting him to bed, I got no chance to spend time with Jack by himself.  I had missed that more than I realized.  It's so refreshing to watch him and play with him and talk with him without having to scold him for not sharing or beating up a twin or stealing a juice cup or something.  It's amazing to observe his imagination when it's not being hindered by curious toddlers who strive constantly to get in Jack's way.

As I blog now, he's building more miles of train track and chattering away about the city he's constructing in and around his track.  He occasionally stops what he's doing, comes up to me and kisses my cheek and says, "I love you Momma; thanks for coming downstairs with me!" and it melts me.  I wonder if he missed this as much as I did?  And if he did, I wonder if I can ever make it up to him.

It's time like this - time spent with my kids as individuals instead of as a bundle - that reminds me that being the mommy of a several children has a special challenge: I must constantly be aware of the fact that each one has a unique personality and I must always strive to make sure I'm able to devote enough attention to each one of them.  Even though I'm exhausted and all I want to do is veg from 2-5 or not have to answer endless questions about everything in the universe for a few hours, it is so rewarding to take a bit of time to be with Jack as Jack... not Jack as the oldest kiddo or the only boy or whatever.   Just Jack.

Because in a few (very short!) months, that gift is going to be even harder to come by...

Friday's Here!

I tried to stay away.  I told myself I'd come up with something original and inspiring for you, but the questions were just irresistible... you'll see!  Enjoy!

1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be?

I'm not sure I care... I just wish I had SOMETHING.  I'm from Colorado and that means I'm essentially a blank slate.  I pick up accents everywhere I live and end up sounding like... well, mud.  I've got a New York/Charleston/Virginia/Tennessee thing going on and it's not pretty.  I'd like just SOMETHING.  I'd settle for Tennessee, because, ya know, I live here and it'd make me fit in a little better.  I force some "yall"s out when I'm talking to people but it sounds pretty fake when it's on the heels of me talking about some "schmuck", ya know?

2. Can you fall asleep anywhere?

This wasn't a skill I possessed all my life.  Sleep deprivation in college helped a LOT - I found I could fall asleep sitting in a chair next to the professor in a 4-person seminar.  THAT is skill.  Following that, being pregnant with Jack and working at a high-pressure law-firm, I found that the only way to get through a day was to spend my lunch break sleeping in the trunk of my Prius in the parking garage.  I don't get enough sleep - ever - so I have adapted to get it when and where I can.  It's useful.

3. Do you use public restrooms?

Psh, of course.  I aint skrrrrrd.  I even sit.  I mean, I'll wipe off some pee if it's splattered on the seat, but I figure if my butt cheeks get germy, that's too bad.  They go right back in my pants and I put the pants in my washer.  Or they put new germs on my toilet seat, but I clean those constantly.  I even pee in porta-potties.  I hate being full of pee and any grodiness is totally worth it to me to get rid of it. Seriously.  I'm also not afraid or ashamed of squatting behind some bushes.  I was born, apparently, with some very easy-going buttcheeks.

4. Stuck in an elevator with a celebrity for 24 hours?

I'm wickedly claustrophobic so I'm going to go with that guy that can escape from anything... You know.  Him.  I'd do just about anything to him to ensure that he'd let me out once he escaped.  I'm guessing, though, that's against the spirit of the question, so I'll go with Tina Fey because she is my freaking idol.  So funny.  So cute.  So awesome.  But to  make me feel better, can we make it a very large elevator?

5. Where did you and your significant other go on your first date?

Aw, ready for some cuteness?  I have a story for ya.  Once upon a time, there was a Melis and there was a Justin.  They were freshman at the same school, in the same Engineering class. Justin was in Navy ROTC and Melis was in Air Force ROTC.  She had noticed how handsome Justin was, and, even though she had multiple boyfriends at the time, she couldn't help the fact that Justin took her breath away.  Truly.  She had been hoping for weeks just to talk to him.  They had a ball coming up - the annual Tri-Military ROTC Ball - and Melis had turned down three date offers for the night (knowing that it was mandatory to have a date) hoping and praying that Justin, the guy she'd not spoken to in her life, would ask her.  In desperation, Melis called Justin one day, stammering on the phone like an idiot because in her (uncharacteristically un-suave) panic she forgot his name momentarily.  She asked him something lame about homework.  He replied something smart-assed.  It was mortifying but it ended with Justin asking Melis to the ball and Melis doing a crazed happy dance.

On the evening of the Ball, Melis dressed to the nines with a stomach full of butterflies on speed.  Justin was in his uniform and beyond handsome.  The evening was perfect... And the best part?  No kissing.  No hand-holding.  Just good, old-fashioned chivalry.  Total romance.  Melis and Justin were growing something incredible and weren't sure what or how but they did not want to rush into anything and instead spent months enjoying those drugged butterflies flitting around in their bellies, delighting in each new step and each new sensation and gave their roots plenty of time to grow deep and entwined.

One of these days, if you ask me nicely, I'll continue the story.  It's ADORABLE.

Sigh.  Loved that question! Thanks, Mama M.!  Head over her way to participate your own self! (See?  Working on the "Southern" thing here.)

Sweet Nonni

My husband's Grandma - well, our Grandma - passed away early yesterday morning.

My family is heading to New York to celebrate her life and join our loved ones in remembering how kind and sweet she was.  We're gathering to rejoice in our shared love for her and in the knowledge that she loved us as all with her whole heart.  It will be a beautiful occasion with laughter and tears and the imperfect, selfishly human sadness that comes from missing someone even though we know we shouldn't grieve for the joyful occasion of going to God...

But I will not be blogging or visiting others' blogs while I'm away. 

I will, of course, miss you all - who make me giggle and smile - but I'll be back soon.

It's just that I'm busy with the trip... and busy reflecting.  And praying.  And thanking God that I was given the gift of having Nonni in my life.  And trying to explain to little Jack what it means when someone dies.

It's hard.

But with all things that are difficult or painful, I embrace the sting and the ache because it proves that my love is there... The contrast of sadness keeps my happiness in focus.  I am lucky that I feel the pain.

So we will go and celebrate.  And I will be back soon.  Thanks for understanding!

My Mommy

It is, of course, the eve of Mother's Day, and I've been thinking quite a bit about my mom lately.  Part of it is me wondering, as Justin and I get swarmed by our kiddos - all crying (us included) - how she managed to raise my two siblings and me.  Another part of it is the fact that my family has moved (again) and yet we're still no closer to her.

It's alright.  It is.  My family and I are just doing what she raised me to do.  I'm being the woman she taught me to be and the mother she inspires me daily to become.  It doesn't necessarily make it easy when I'm weighed down with stress and I just want someone to watch my kids so I can have 4 margaritas make me a solid lunch of Spaghetti-O's, burrito with butter and a pickle.

She is one hell of a woman, my mom.  Everything I know about being a woman, wife and mother, I know from her - her triumphs and her failures and all the moments in between that qualify as neither.  She's been my mentor and friend and her strength is unbelievable.  She was with me the moment I became a mother for the first time, and she has been - and will always be - with me every step of the way ever since.  I've learned so much from her, even if sometimes it's what not to do... And probably more important than that, I've learned that I'm going to make my own mistakes - it's just that I can appreciate her all the more for all those I don't have to make. 

She's given me a work ethic that my family can always count on.

She's shown me how to love unconditionally.

She's allowed me to grow and to learn and to experience life for myself.

She's guided me through the crazy whirlwind of motherhood.

She's supported me in each decision I've made.

She's provided me with a shoulder.

And she's nurtured me to the point where I can no longer extricate where my identity begins and her influence ends.

I didn't get her a card for Mother's Day.  I didn't send flowers or a mug or anything like that.  The only gift I can give her that in any way could show her how much she means to me is to prove to her that I'm a woman of whom she can be proud.  I just want to be half the mother she's been.  I want her to know that I love her in such a profound and belly-torquing way that there is no other way to convey it but by showing her. 

I love you, Mu.  Thank you for being my Mommy.

Dating the Un-date-ables... Part I

See, I'm married.  I have three kids.  My love life is as exciting as watching the Titanic credits over and over until your retinas bleed.

But my sister...

She's a whole different story.  Well, really, lots of different stories.  Stories that I fully intend on telling my daughters when they're of age (or maybe when they're 3... these lessons are worth cementing in their memories, trust me.) so that they may avoid the many tragic romance mistakes Sis has made.

 Like this guy:

"Putz"* is the guy pointed to by the big yellow arrow (not that his friends aren't also putzes; I don't know them so they're safe for now) and on the left you'll note I've found a photo of Marv from Home Alone.  Yikes.  striking similarities, no? Those eerily arched eyebrows and that come-hither 'stache ("Who wants a mustache ride?") just absolutely scream "sexy".

*Names have been changed to make it a little less obvious.

Whoo... let me take a sec to cool off here.

It's not that Sis is a dog.  On the contrary - she's very pretty and smart and sassy and hip.  (I kinda wish I was as cute as her, but I'd never admit that in person.)


See?  At least the sweet Chester Child Molester 'stache didn't (supposedly; she might be lying - more on that later) show up until after she ditched him.  But look how cute that girl is.

You'll understand in a moment that this is really not even just about the looks (or, rather, the total and utter incompatibility of how they look) but it's so stinkin' much more.  It's even more than the fact that Putz is the same age as her (23) and lives in his mom's basement while he works at Target as a stock boy because he did a year at college and "took some time off to figure out what he really wanted to do" while SHE, meanwhile, was busy graduating from a great school's honors college with two degrees and lining up a killer job in a big city.

You know... growing up.

She told me about this dude and I immediately told her she was his Sugar Mamma.  I told her to steer clear of him because he was just looking for someone else's basement to live in while he "figured out what he really wanted to do".

Didn't go over so well.  Which is probably why she neglected to reveal to me the following information until long after he was out of the picture (the final straw for her, if you were wondering, was him asking her for money...):

He had a breathalyzer in his car.

Seriously? Sis, seriously?  You let this guy pick you up for your 4th date and you had to sit in the passenger seat while he blew and hummed into a device for several minutes so he could take you out and that didn't automatically trigger a "run the hell away" instinct?  Oy.

I'm not even going to get into the fact that it was the 4th date before he drove.  But Putz had a breathalyzer in his car for an underage DUI.  Quality.

So once Sis clued me in to this particular character flaw, she also felt comfortable enough informing me that "I took some time off school to figure out what I really want to do" actually means, in Putz-speak, "I got an underage DUI and dropped out of college."

For me, that would have been an absolute deal-breaker and there wouldn't have been a 5th date, let alone a 6-month relationship.

And don't assume the sex must have been great to keep her around.

I don't know.  I wish I understood what she was thinking, but it's obvious that she wasn't exactly proud of Putz or she wouldn't have neglected ("Ooops?  Did I forget to mention the breathalyzer? Silly me.") to divulge such amazingly ridiculous facts about him while she was dating him.

In this particular case, all I can do is toss my hands up and shake my head and offer her my shoulder when it's all over and try not to pee my pants laughing at her offer her my deepest sympathies when it doesn't work out.

Coming soon: What To Do When Your Boyfriend Wants to Be You and other tales from dating Mr. Little-Man-Syndrome...