Monthly Archives: May 2012

The In-Laws

Ah yes, the In-Laws. I know a lot of people get an icky feeling when they hear their In-Laws are coming to visit. I, on the other hand, get excited, anxious and can’t wait. I LOVE my In-Laws, and I feel blessed and grateful and lucky to feel this way. I only wish they lived closer than all the way on the other side of the country. We only get to see them once, maybe twice (on a rare, rare occasion) a year.

They’ve been here visiting – and helping (in a most wonderful kind of way – the way where you don’t have to ask them or tell them how to do something or worry about anything). They helped us pack, helped with dinner, helped with taking the boys to the park, helped with groceries (hey, it might not be inspiring, but much-needed and appreciated), helped with jammies and story time. The boys love Nana and Grandpa. Nana and Grandpa love the boys.

This morning after dropping off Zackery at school (where he must have felt like a king with his royal court accompanying him to drop-off), my husband took Nana and Grandpa to the airport. Seven days just flew by. How did it go by so quick? We must have all been having a grande old time – so much fun (because time flies when you’re having fun)! So we all drove to school and then went our separate ways (except Brayden who is enjoying his weekly playdate with babysitter extraordinaire and his little girl friend – I mean that in the most literal way. Girl Friend: a friend that is a girl. He is WAY too young to be having girlfriends – oh gosh, I don’t even want to go there in my mind yet… he’s gonna be a heartbreaker). Zack got signed in and stayed, I came here (the lovely “WC” coffee shop), and Will drove a car full of suitcases and love to the airport.  It was a sad moment. Nobody cried (at least I don’t think anybody cried – Nana has a tendency, for good reason), everybody was all smiles and hugs and laughter.

 Time really is flying by. All of a sudden the In-Laws have come and gone, and before I know it, it will be June (on Friday to be exact). We have 11 days until we move. WOW! It’s coming fast. Really, really fast. I’m feeling a lot of changes – good for the most part. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety (mostly about getting everything packed – I’ve lived in this house for 12 years, even before Will and I met). I’m feeling excitement – I am ready to be in our new house with a fenced in yard for the kids, on a cul-de-sac, with no stairs (BIG things on my checklist for sure – and now I’ll have them). I’m feeling gratitude – for many things, but I can’t really seem to specify or elaborate – I’m just feeling gratitude. I’m feeling overwhelm – sorry, can’t let that one off the hook yet (but I’m trying!!!). I’m feeling… a lot of things.

I think the leaving of my In-Laws is in perfect timing of closing this chapter of my life and moving on (literally). Maybe that’s why it’s such an extra emotional moment for me. They’ve left, and will never be back in that house. They’ve left, and I have 11 days before I will never be back in that house. They’ve left, and now with my family I get to write the next chapter of our lives. Everything happens for a reason – I truly believe in that, and often have to remind myself (and when I do I tend to breathe a lot easier).

I love my In-Laws. They are the best! I love my Dad too, and my Mom up in Heaven, but I think to love my In-Laws the way I do… I am just so happy about that. *smiles*



It’s been a bittersweet month for me.

Zack rode the schoolbus with his Preschool class to a Kindergarten visit yesterday. It’s not the Kindergarten he’s going to be attending, it’s not even his first day of Kindergarten. I had tears in my eyes. He looked so tiny looking out the window excitedly waving as the bus drove off. He’s growing up.

We are moving. We’ve known we are moving for almost 2 years. It’s finally here. I’ve lived in the same house for 12 years. I bought this house before I even met my husband. This house is the only home my boys have ever known. The friends and support system I have created and built here are what got me through my PPD. We are moving right next door (literally) to my best friend. We’ll be saving money, there will be more conveniences and a little better weather, and my husband’s commute will be significantly reduced. I’m sad. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll miss where I am now.

There’s more… I don’t want a pity party… I just needed to get this out.

I am blessed to have choices and opportunities. I am thankful to have friends where ever I go. I’m making lemonade – the really good kind! 🙂

Turning lemon moments into lemonade!

To A Mother, With Inspiration

As daughters, we all grow up thinking “I’m never going to be like my Mother.”
As we get older, and a little bit wiser, we start asking ourselves “What would my Mother do?”
As we become Mothers ourselves, we can’t help but say “I’m just like my Mother.” 

For some, we can’t see our Mothers on Mother’s Day.
For others, we spend every minute of every day with our Mothers.
For all, we love our Mothers.

On this Mother’s Day, may we all thank our Mothers for giving us life.
On this Mother’s Day, may we all send kisses to the sky or hugs to our heroes.
On this Mother’s Day, may we tell our Mothers just how much we love them.

Happy Mother’s Day to all Mothers everywhere, new or old, here on earth or up in Heaven.

*(This post was inspired by Marylin Warner, and her blog Things I Want To Tell My Mother)

Mother’s Day Writing Contest hosted by Marylin Warner

I Cried

I am officially asking, requesting, for a do-over. You know, the kind like when you’re little and young and you’re home sick with the flu and the only thing that makes you feel better is to play Chutes and Ladders with your Mom, and you botch the spin on the wheel and ask for a do-over because if you didn’t you would land on the spot that would send you flying back down the ladder all the way to the bottom. Yeah, that kind of do-over.

It was bath night tonight, and though usually bath night is on Sunday, we had an “event” last night (“event” meaning a party with a bunch of other families and everyone was having such a great time and behaving so well that we pushed it a bit and stayed out late) and didn’t get home until almost 9 (yes, 9 is late when you have kids that go to bed at 7), almost 2 hours past the boys’ bedtime. So, bath night was tonight – which was okay because I had been planning on it, and they weren’t so filthy going an extra day wasn’t a big deal. 

Brayden is at the age when he is really testing me. At least that’s what I’m calling it. Zack is at the age when he knowingly does something to piss me off bother me. Tonight, it was Brayden that had me all in a tizzy, which makes me sad because that means he’s growing up (and learning to be oh so clever and smart from his clever and smart big brother…)!

Anyway, in the bath, the boys are soaped up and rinsed off and just playing. They typically play well together, so that wasn’t the issue. The issue (along with not listening as I was demanding he sit down on his bottom) was the sponge and the washcloth and the little plastic pour bucket thingy that I use to rinse their hair – that somehow kept getting water all over me, the floor, and everywhere other than in the bathtub. All of this happening with a BIG, giant, happy, hey-look-at-me-Mommy smile.

My patience lately is, well, to be honest, short. Tonight, no different. I squeezed out the washcloth, fetched the sopping sponge from across the bathroom floor, and pried the plastic pour bucket thingy out of Brayden’s puffy (he still has all his baby fat and I LOVE it) and surprisingly tightly gripped fingers. “That’s it, you’re done, time to get out of the bath.” Brayden was not happy about the abrupt ending to his delightful water experience.

“Zack, you can stay in the bath while I dry off Brayden, but don’t splash around too much…” *holding my breath and biting my tongue*

Up on the changing table, my composure regained, I’m back to wonderful, calm, soft, tender Mommy – drying him off, lotioning his squishy little body, and then… Whack! He hits me! I say “no, we don’t hit.” Whack! He hits me again – and again with that BIG, giant, happy, hey-look-at-me-Mommy smile. I scream at him. “Sorry Mommy.” Not 2 seconds later, he’s yanking on the curtains. “No, Brayden, you’ll pull the curtains down. We don’t do that.”

“Sorry Mommy.”

He keeps doing it, with the you-get-the-picture SMILE.

I scream again, this time a bit more intense.

“Sorry Mommy.” And this time he looks scared for a split moment just after, and then I hug him and say “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I love you.”

Another “Sorry Mommy” and before I could even respond to that again, he’s pulling the curtains AND taking a swing at me. You’ve got to be kidding me?!

I really scream. So much that Zack pipes in from the bathroom “What Mommy? What?” (Side Note: I don’t make it a habit of leaving Zack in the tub by himself, but on occasion it happens. I constantly talk to him and make sure he’s okay, and he knows how to get out and dry himself off all on his own. He really is getting big…)

not me – or my image

I don’t know if it’s all the stress I’m under lately or that both boys are growing up and finding new ways to push my buttons, but I am not “that Mom.” (I say that in the most sensitive way possible, because I know that sometimes we probably all become that Mom, but I don’t let it define me.) If I could do-over bath time and the remainder of the evening, there are probably a few things I would change. Of course, I say that now, looking back, after the fact… I’m not sure that if he starting whacking me again I wouldn’t yell at him – especially if he kept doing it (in a knowingly I’m-going-to-see-how-far-I-can-push-Mommy kind of way).

So I sit here now, upset at myself for having to have it go so far that I had to yell and make myself cry. And I sit here in the quiet sound of only the tick tock of the clock and the clacking of my keyboard as I type, boys asleep peacefully and safely snuggled in their beds. And I sit here contemplating if I did the right thing. And I realize, it doesn’t matter. I did what I did, it’s done. Hopefully Brayden learned a lesson, and I got out some tension and frustration. Every moment can be a new choice. If I don’t like how I chose the last time, then next time I can choose differently. I can take a do-over.

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