Dear Mom

9:49 pm ByFiled UnderMisc., MOMent of the Day, Thank You

Dear Mom,

In honor of Mother’s Day, I wanted to write about a stand-out MOMent I remember having with you. Like most kids, I never really understood or appreciated all the things you’ve done for me. I don’t think I’ve ever told you about all of the times when you really made a difference in my life, and I certainly don’t think I’ve ever recounted a particular moment and thanked you for being there for me. But when I tried to choose something specific, I couldn’t.  I couldn’t think of an exact memory that stands out because you’ve always been there for me. No matter what. Even when I didn’t want you to be.

So, thank you.

Thank you for enduring hours upon hours of drug-free labor to have me nearly two weeks late. As someone who has recently gone through childbirth, even going two days before my due date was agony – and I didn’t have to put up with the unsightly maternity clothes you were forced to wear or being in my third trimester during the hottest part of the year…

Thank you for being my kindergarten teacher and the best teacher I’ve ever had. In my life. Ever…

Thank you for driving me to school every year on the first day of school and walking me to my class, even in sixth grade as I terrifyingly started junior high. And thank you for the many drives you would make to that building after an exhausting day of work to pick up a book I would need for a homework assignment or sometimes my entire backpack…

On that note, thank you thank you for putting up with such a scatterbrained and easily distracted kid. As my own daughter can sometimes take up to fifteen minutes to climb half a flight of stairs because she becomes sidetracked by lint on the steps or making her toys slide down the railings, I’m gaining more and more of an appreciation for the patience you had with me (and believe me, at the time I didn’t think you had much – I’m now learning I was sorely mistaken)…

Thank you for crying all those times throughout my childhood and beyond when I would roll my eyes and tell you not to. Like my senior year on senior night during the half-time show of the football game when you proudly walked with me in my full band nerdom, tears welling up in your eyes. Or whenever you’d watch some sappy movie. Now I understand. Now that I have two babies of my own, Rice Krispie commercials can choke me up. And the sight of my handsome baby boy smiling at me just melts my heart. Now I understand…

Thank you for teaching me how to bake cookies and letting me eat the dough…

Thank you for the occasional Parlour treat when we’d have dessert before dinner…

Thank you for instilling in me the proper love and appreciation that chocolate deserves, and always sharing yours with me (or stealing mine from my Halloween and Easter candy)…

Thank you for goodnights that would last for hours and always listening and always saying, “I love you,”…

Thank you for always being the one to make me feel better when I am hurt, whether it was from a fall in the driveway, a fight with a friend or even being dumped. Even when I didn’t want to tell you about it…

Thank you for letting me grow up and graduate and go to college and get married and start a family of my own. Even when you didn’t want to let me go…

Thank you for always supporting my every decision…

Thank you for showing me what a strong, beautiful, amazing mom and woman is and for giving me someone I can aspire to be like…

When I was younger I used to say that I wasn’t going to do things like my mom. But now that I am one, I continue to find myself trying to be more like you.

Thank you for being you – my most perfect mom.

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Always My Baby

8:55 pm ByFiled UnderMisc., MOMent of the Day

“What’s up, Mommy?” she asked me as I scooted my chair closer to hers to eat lunch.

I laughed and then gave her some answer about getting ready to have lunch with the cutest kid ever.

And then I thought about it some more.

What’s up?

What’s up, Mommy?

The question made me laugh because it sounded so, well, grown up coming from her toddler mouth.

How did we move so quickly from the simple act of identifying me as “Mama” to using sentences and asking me, “What’s up?”

And my response? Lunch with a kid. A KID?

No, not yet. My brain pleaded. She’s not even two yet. She’s still a baby. Not a kid. Just a baby. I’m not ready for her to grow up so fast.

And then my unborn baby jabbed a good kick into my ribcage as if to say, “Hello! I’m the baby. Have you forgotten I’ll be taking over your house within the next 10-ish weeks?”

After adjusting my position in an attempt to remove said little opinionated foot from my ribs, I looked back at The Munchkin, now munching a piece of “white broccoli” and drinking water from a regular cup, smiling at me as a little bit dribbled down her chin. I thought about the progress we’ve been making with potty training and helping her learn to use the stairs. I thought about how she’s starting to learn her letters and numbers and songs and already immersing herself into her own pretend world. I thought about the baby doll and kitchen set and little table and chair and all the “big girl” toys she got for Christmas. And I couldn’t help but wonder if, in spite of my desire to somehow stop time and linger a little longer in her baby-hood, some small part of me is willing her to grow up faster than either of us is ready because soon there will be another baby in our house.

Soon, I’m going to need her to be trusted with the stairs because I’ll be carrying another, much more helpless being up and down them. I’m going to want her to be potty trained so that we can save some money on diapers. I’m going to rely on her to entertain herself in her little pretend world sometimes because someone else is going to need me 24/7. And I pray that I’m a good enough mom to be there for both of them as they need me.

And yet, I’m reveling in it all at the same time. Each new phrase uttered, every new thing learned, I beam with joy at watching The Munchkin discover and become more and more a part of the world around her. I love watching her play with her little dollhouse people and introduce herself to her stuffed animals. I’m constantly amazed at what she picks up, and how quickly it happens too. I love listening to her sing her ABCs and “Twinkle, Twinkle.” And the fact that, while they may be require a bit of translation, I can have actual conversations with my little girl, just blows me away. Each gives me an even better glimpse at what’s going on in that brain of hers and it’s honestly amazing.

I look forward to doing it all again with this new one. I love feeling this little person squirm and wiggle inside of me. I can’t wait to learn what kind of person he or she is. I even love (though it is getting burdensome at times) watching my belly grow and knowing that soon we’ll get to meet this person. And I already am in love.

So, it’s an interesting conflict really. But I have the sense that this internal debate between wanting to slow down time and the rate at which The Munchkin grows, and the joy and anticipation of watching it happen is not going to go away. And I’m sure I’ll feel it just as much (maybe even more) with this new baby too.

I suppose it’s just another one of those things about parenthood that I should just get used to dealing with but probably never really will. How do you ever get used to the growing independence of your child? I guess that’s why my mom still says to me, “You’re still my baby.”

After lunch was over, The Munchkin and I went upstairs and cuddled together in the rocking chair before nap, reading a book about big sisters. Like many times before, I pointed to my belly and asked her what was in there and she answered correctly. Then she smiled and patted my belly and gave it a kiss. “Aww, I wove you, Baby,” she said.

I smiled and kissed the top of her forehead. My thoughts exactly, I thought to myself, patting them both. My thoughts exactly.

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MOMent of the Day: Sharing Smiles

9:31 am ByFiled UnderMOMent of the Day

It’s Sunday evening. After a day of apple picking and fun at the apple orchard, we are all gathered at my mother-in-law’s house to celebrate my birthday a week early (which I keep forgetting). Our delicious Thanksgiving-style dinner has digested enough that most of us now have room for the apple and peach pies that are being served as my birthday dessert.

I have just survived the Birthday song (being the center of attention is not really my thing) and blown out my candle. As always, this accomplishment is followed by a round of applause – one of The Munchkin’s favorite things.

She loves to clap and cheer, and having observed all of this, the little leader in her decides that it must continue. She isn’t certain of the reason for the clapping, but she is determined to have it go on.

Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by everyone, she lifts her arms in celebration and shouts, “Yaaaay,” her little hands clapping away in front of her.

We all respond with a resounding clap and cheer.

Her smile widens and she does it again.

“Yaaaaay,” she shouts.

“Hooray,” we all reply and clap back.

She is looking around the room at everyone, pleased that she has the attention of every person in the house.

She cheers once again. And once again, we all cheer and clap back.

This time, she pauses. She knows she has all of us captivated and wants to keep her hold on everyone. I watch her little face as she processes what is happening. She is concentrating. Deciding. She has our attention. Now what can she do to keep it going? My little entertainer.

Then, like a story teller or singer leading a crowd in some sort of response activity, she leans forward, grinning wide at her audience and says, “Hi!”

Laughter escapes from her audience, and we all respond appropriately with a “hi,” or our own.

She looks at her daddy. She looks at me. Her smile grows even bigger. Success! She is eating up every second of this. We all are.

She throws her hands up and cheers again. After we follow her cheer with our own she proceeds with another, “Hi!”

This continues for a little while, everyone in the house following the lead of this 18-month-old crowd pleaser.

The Hubs and I aren’t certain exactly where this boldness comes from. We are both more reserved and tend to prefer not to be in the spotlight. But wherever it came from, one thing is certain: The Munchkin knows how to work a room.

What I’m not sure she grasps yet is just how special it is to everyone she entertains. It’s more than just a cute toddler showing off. It’s contagious happiness. We all delighted in her moment. Whatever stresses may have been in the back of our minds while she was cheering and greeting us disappeared. And the memory of it was a gift we all have to treasure long after the clapping ended that evening.

My little entertainer – sharer of smiles.

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A Bedtime Story

8:48 pm ByFiled UnderMisc., MOMent of the Day

That last hour of the day before bedtime just may be the most important hour of childhood.

It’s a time when everything else in the world stops. There’s no TV in the background. The house gets a little quieter. Things slow down bit.

Sure, there is still a stream of events, but it’s constant. Predictable. Stable. And full of love.

I remember it even when I was a kid. My dad reading chapters of Winnie the Pooh to my sister and me. My mom standing in the frame of our door for what seemed like hours (and it sometimes was) talking about whatever was on our minds.

Even when I was no longer a young child, I remember having important and meaningful conversations with my parents just before bed.  For some reason, it was the time when you could talk about anything. Barriers that existed during the day of subjects that seemed difficult to discuss with parents dissolved at bedtime. Their divorce, why people die, school difficulties…it all came out when it was time for bed. And I slept better.

And as I sit now writing this, listening to The Munchkin’s solid, stable, sleepy breathing on the monitor, I realize that we have made the same true for her. And I love it.

Every night right after dinner we head up the stairs and begin our routine. And even though The Munchkin knows that she’ll have to go to sleep soon, she’s excited for this special time we spend together right before bed.

Every other night consists of a bath. The rest include extra potty practice and sometimes a little bonus play/wrestle time with daddy (which doesn’t exactly count as a “wind-down” activity but is so full of giggles I can’t find it in myself to ask them to simmer down). Then we peel off The Munchkin’s clothes, put on a fresh diaper and wrestle her into her pajamas.

That’s when the real fun begins. Freshly pj’d and ready to snuggle, The Munchkin picks some books from her table and the three of us read them together. For one of the few times in her busy toddler day, she is happy to sit quietly with us. In fact, she insists on sitting on one of our laps. She pulls a book off her table, proudly walks over to whomever is the reader that evening and promptly plops herself onto that lap before you could ever have the chance of directing her elsewhere (not that anyone ever would though). We usually go through three books before we pick them up and tuck her, with droopy eyes and droopier pig-tails, into bed.

That time is so full of love and family that it almost makes my heart burst. Even the pets lounge in her room with us, as much a part of the routine as the books and the hugs and the love.

It’s a rare evening when The Hubs and I both are not involved in the bedtime routine. Those final hugs and kisses of the night are sometimes the absolute best part of the day and there isn’t much I’m willing to trade for them.

Every night as we tip-toe out of her room after saying our last “Night, nights” I can’t help but think about how special that bit of family time was. More than even dinner together. Because dinner involves lots of rushing and cutting and praying that there is no choking that it seems there isn’t as much time for talking and enjoying each other as a family.

But bedtime, oh bedtime is just something special

And I think about the stability and happiness and love it’s providing for The Munchkin. That same stability and happiness and love it provided for me.

And I pray that it never changes.

The books may be different and will probably eventually phase out. The conversation will probably mature. But I hope that it’s always there. That we’re always there. Together. To knock down barriers and let The Munchkin know that, at bedtime at least, she’s always safe and sound. And always, always loved.

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The New Bathroom Decor

7:34 pm ByFiled UnderFiner Things, MOMent of the Day, Thank You

Most moms quickly learn that once you have a baby, having a bathroom to yourself is a luxury. And a rarity. Hence, most of the time when I’m in the bathroom showering, getting ready for work or whatever, The Munchkin is with me.

Because it’s a bathroom, there are many areas of it that I prefer she not play with (like the toilet, or the cabinets under our sink – and yes, I know I need to baby-proof the bathroom). I usually have her in my sight at all times. This morning as I was brushing my teeth, I took 30 seconds – maybe even less – to spit out the toothpaste and rinse my mouth. The Munchkin was looking at a book.

In those 30 seconds (maybe less), this happened:

Stealth little booger, isn’t she?

For some reason, it made my morning.

And when I got home from work and discovered the pile still sitting there (because Lord knows we did not have time to clean it up before we rushed out the door this morning), it made gave me a chuckle and made my afternoon. I think I’ll let it stay there until tomorrow. It adds a nice touch to the room, don’t you think?

This post is linked to Thank You Journal over at Alli ‘n Son. Head on over there to see what other people are appreciating. It’s also linked to Finer Things Friday at The Finer Things in Life. Check there for more of the finest.

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