Talk about gratitude......

I need to take a picture of Jake standing up in his puffer jacket.....with the hood up he looks EXACTLY like Kenny from Southpark. He talks about as well as Kenny does! Luckily his sibs are willing and able translators. We got in a lovely 4 miles today on a very cold but sunny day ~ Jake is the ultimate running buddy.

Preschool art is a treasure. In the list of "things I enjoy as a Mom" I would rate "making crafts" very low. I admit to having had visions of making fantastic felt and paper and paint creations (before I actually had children).....some image of this super crafty patient person (who I'm not) sitting around the table on lazy winter afternoons armed with a well organized and vibrant assortment of creatively stimulating crafting supplies and a cup of tea. The reality? It sucks. Jake goes all Godzilla on everything, I hate chaos, and admit to totally being that Mom who wants the crafts to be all symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing and whatnot. Glue everywhere, Jake sucking on an uncapped marker, glitter in ears and eyes and scissor incidents have taken over my "vision" here in the reality of Motherhood. And who knows, maybe I would have been "that Mom" if I had a kid every four years or so. Alas, I had three kids in 39 months and crafts became synonymous with torture, to me.

Anyway. I get extra special excited about preschool because while they learn all about taking turns and helping out and whatnot at home....they surely don't get the craft experience that they get at school. Every day they tumble into the car flushed and proud as they show me their latest creation. Today, Luke arrived with this. They could have picked anything. Toys. Pizza. Presents. Santa. He chose his sister. I started to cry in the preschool parking lot. I mean, it's not all that unusual, right? Family? A normal answer? But somehow the fact that he only focused on his Sister made me inordinately proud. I don't do all that much right as a parent. I plod along. I have stuck fervently to some of my ideals, and others have fallen by the wayside (like the vision of me, like felting glitter wool on a peaceful afternoon of tea and crafting). But the ONE thing that was most important to me was to facilitate my kids being best friends. To NEVER delve into the realm of creating competition between them, but to align them. To let them see one another as teammates, as playmates, as people that they want to protect and support. There was a lot of competition in my childhood, and I don't think that it served us well, ultimately. Our goal was to do differently with and for our kids.

So when I see the love that they have for one another, it gives me a special sort of joy.

I will say that while having my kids so close together presents special challenges (and special regrets....I constantly fear that I have done them a disservice by being so busy tending to all that I miss out on individual time with them as individuals).......there is absolutely a special sort of joy that comes from witnessing their relationships. I'm sure I've blogged about this before, but it continually awes me. I think sometimes that it is a covert gift....I know that personality wise I could have been one of those parents who had a penchant for achievement, that Mom who sat and did letters ad nauseum, the one who had their kid in 30 billion classes to encourage them to be the brightest or the best. Instead, fate intervened and kept me too busy to get hung up on achievement or milestone markers. It is a gift. A secret, silent gift. I can't brag about my kid reading at 3. I can feel joy about the way that they love and protect one another fiercely. Some days just knock me on my knees with gratitude. Today was one of them.

A Perfect Day

Some days are just perfect.

Yesterday was SO not one of them. Yesterday was the "return from three weeks of being away" day. Filled with food shopping, house cleaning, laundry, and a fun (if exhausting) pick up at our CSA.....it was just one of those often time necessary days when I found myself saying "NO" more times than I wanted to. I fell into bed thoroughly exhausted last night, and feeling as though while I did what I had to do, I didn't enjoy it (or my kids) as much as I hope to.

Today was an entirely different story. Luke climbed into my bed at 6:30 for a "Mama I love you" fest, and Jules slept till almost 8, when I woke her as we had to be out of the house by 9. We headed down to a fabulous place that we had never been to before, the Smith Memorial Playground in Philly. What a fantastic place. So clean, such great toys, such beautiful weather, and such fun times with seven of my friends and their 11? ish kids. We played all morning, and then had a picnic lunch in the shade on a lovely lawn filled with children. The kids loved the toys as much as I enjoyed the companionship of my girlfriends, and they fell into the car tired and warm and happy at 12:30. They fell asleep immediately on the ride home, transferred seamlessly into their bed/crib, and slept soundly until I had to wake them at almost 3:30 when I realized that I was due at the pool in 5 minutes to meet my friends and their kids. I had cooked dinner while they were sleeping so that we could stay there until 5 or later. We hurried out the door to find the upper pool in a "Code Brown" (Yes, a floater), so we played at the downstairs outdoor waterpark/pool until 4:15 when we went up to our usual pool. They played happily until it was time to go, came home for an already cooked dinner, and fell into bed soundly right on schedule. Some days it just feels so easy. Of course, it is impossible to have days like today without the trials and tedium of yesterday, so I suppose that I have to be thankful for all of the days.

We did have one scare at the playground today as one of Luke's best buddies had one of those horrific "time stands still things move as though underwater" falls down a giant flight of stone steps. On what was probably a 25 step staircase, the little guy jumped with both feet from one step to another when only about 4 steps from the top. His inertia carried him forward, and I can say, that for all of its horror, it was an AMAZING display of athleticism as the little guy stayed on his feet, in an uncontrolled but foot first run until about the fourth step from the bottom, when inertia finally won, and he tumbled face first onto the ground. I saw it happening, and screamed, as did a few of my friends, and we all ran towards him as he tumbled, but could not get to him quite in time. It SO reminded me of Luke's fall off of the beach house steps last summer, and his landing on a brick sidewalk. Luckily the sweet little guy escaped relatively unscathed barring some scrapes and likely bruises considering the dramatic nature of the fall, and myself and my friends probably shed as many tears as he did as we watched him recover.

I hate how "accidents" are truly just that. Little shining moments of joy where everything is just SO right, and everyone is happy, and healthy, and whole, and then, LIKE THAT, in a horrible moment, everything is different. As stated, this had no horrific results. But I feel sure I will dream of that darling awesome little guy who I love dancing way too fast and entirely out of control down those steep stone steps tonight. I have said it before and I will say it again, Motherhood is not for the feint of heart. These little ones own us, and own us completely. I would fall from a thousand staircases to stop a little one from having to endure it (despite the fact that their rotund rubbery little bodies would likely recover from it much better than my old self would!). Seeing a little one hurt, or be afraid, is simply too much to bear.....yet bear it we do.

I wake up every day grateful for healthy kids, and go to sleep each night feeling the same way. To focus too much on the "What could happen" is to drive yourself insane. To never think about it at all is simple denial.

The kids are in bed and the house is clean (another by-product of the kids and I being out of the house all day). Thank God for little R being fine, and for all of the hideous things that did NOT happen today, AND for all of the wonderful things that did happen today.

I hugged my babies more tightly tonight.

Fourth

Happy Birthday America!

We just got home from a jam packed yet relaxation filled 6 days at the beach as we celebrated the Fourth of July.

Luke played his first round of miniature golf, the kids slept for about 3 hours each day on the beach, and we got to celebrate all of the blessings of family and friends. A veritable festival of great food and great friends was had by all.

I get an inordinate amount of pleasure witnessing my kids playing on the same beaches that I grew up on. They love, love, LOVE the ocean, chasing seagulls, finding shells, eating, sleeping, and playing on the beach. The simple joys of playing in sand, swimming in the ocean, and being entertained by a host of family and friends were rediscovered this week.

I am eternally grateful for adaptable kids.........you guys amazed me with your great sleeping, your flexibility, your ability to play with a single seashell for long spans at a time. I love how you crave being outside, the joy you get out of witnessing the beauty of the Jersey Shore, and the pleasure you find in loved ones.

You loved the fireworks, even though it meant late naps and late nights. You gave Nate and I long spans where we could remember the adult pleasures of napping on the sand, or reading huge chunks of books while we sat uninterrupted on the beach. You reminded us of how much fun making and destroying sand castles can be. You made sandy bathing suits fun, and showers outside a joy. You made us recognize how lucky we are to have kids who simply love being happy, and who roll with the punches.

We got home today, only to get ready to turn it around on Thursday to head to the Poconos for more fun with family.

Thanks, kiddos. I could not possibly be more proud or more grateful for you.

Do the Zoo

Today was a storybook day. I am so glad that I did not eat one of the children back on Monday or Tuesday, as they both brought me inordinate joy today :)

We left the house at 9 am ~ ready for a morning at the Zoo. We probably visited the zoo a good 8 or 9 times last year, as we tried to take advantage of our membership. As I cruised down 76 I had flashbacks of our first trip to the zoo last year as a Mom/15 mo old/not yet two month old. I sweated, in remembrance. It was hard. We did it, but it was hard. I honestly remember my stomach clenching as we parked, thinking about nursing, walking, feeding, shading, diapering, entertaining, naps and so on.

I am happy to say that today was a blast. I got to catch up with my much loved friend Jenny and her sweet and beautiful Elisabeth, and the kids had a great time.

Oh, the change from a 1 year old at the zoo to a 2 year old at the zoo! I had to laugh as I remembered Luke's very first visit to the zoo, which happened in Norfolk, at the tender age of 7 weeks old, on our first rugby road trip. As Nate got ready for his game, I took Luke to the zoo. He slept through the entire adventure,and I felt like I was again entertaining my cousins "Flat Stanley" as I propped his stroller up against different animals. It was about me, not about Luke.

Today was a whole new game. "More Animals!" Luke kept exclaiming. Jules seemed to catch his excitement, and continually uttered "Dat? Dat! DAT!" as she pointed and watched. The sunshine made me feel joy. My kids made me feel joy.

Luke, you have become a dipper. Every time we eat bread with dinner I hear "Dip Dip Dip!" at least 30 times as he begs for the olive oil. Last night Luke dipped all of his chicken in balsamic creme. The other day, it was hummus, baba ganoush the day before that. Turkey and cheese roll ups get dipped in mustard. Today, they had a sippy cup that proved leaky. It made a generous puddle in the floor of our BOB. Luke dipped his hot dog in the puddle. Not just once. He felt a physical NEED to dip that dog. I was disgusted.

All dirty water dipping aside, it was a glorious day. I love and need my girlfriends, and, Jenny ~ to get to catch up today was a gift. The kids fell asleep in the car, and transferred into cribs/beds seamlessly. They slept for a few hours while I recovered. We went to our little "family Friday happy hour" at the gym, so the kids played, we worked out, and then all ate pizza at home. I bathed our little infidels, and off to bed they went.

Some days are really hard. Some days are really easy. Some days I just kiss on bellies and wonder how on earth I lucked into these wonderful little sunbeams I call my kids.

So funny

This was dinner tonight. Nate is away. It was all me, baby.

I write this blog for you guys. I hope that one day you read it, and laugh/cringe at me, and mock all of the "uninformed" things that we did "back then" (like people of my generation feel about the fact that babies were supposed to sleep on their bellies, or not breastfeed, or whatever).

I hope that one day, when you think that I am the most evil or non-understanding or un-cool person EVAH....you will read this and know in your heart of hearts that as sweet little babies, you thought that I was IT. You found me so funny. And it made my heart sing when you did.

Right now, at barely 2 and almost 1, you guys are an easy crowd. And I love it.

An easy one

I'm still catching up from vacation.

That said. Some days life at home with two babies feels really hard. Some moments it feels infinitely frustrating, or overwhelming. Some days I feel as though I may never be on top of it all again. Some days I feel like a failure.

Other times, everything just flows. Some days no one performs any bodily functions on anything other than a diaper. Some days no food gets thrown on the floor. Some days the kids take such long naps that I check to see if they are still breathing (like I did twice today during Julia's three hour morning nap.) Some days the weather is perfect, and time at the park is a joy instead of feeling like an episode of Survivor. Some days I get a shower, and my house cleaned, and the laundry done, and dinner cooked, and to the park, and the kids napped, and baby food made, and meals frozen for Luke, and nurse, and make beds, and change diapers, and it all seems pretty effortless.

Today was one of those days. For all of the days that DON'T go that way, I feel the need to celebrate the ones that do.

A good start

Yesterday was pretty much a perfect day. The Eagles won (and looked fantastic). The Jets won (And while I am happy that they won because I love my husband, I'm also happy that Favre wasn't all that great, because I am human.) Brady got hurt. Brady is out for the year. While I give Tom Brady mad props for being ridiculously good looking and athletic, I'm a bit sick of having the Patriots shoved down my throat. I wont mind seeing Pat's fans quieted down *just* a notch. The chili was delish. I got both kids down for a nap 5 minutes before kick off. The day was beautiful. Fantasy football was kind. Entourage and a new HBO series started. Life is good.

Here is Jules in her new Eagles jersey courtesy of her Uncle Pete. Thanks Uncle Pete! I cant wait to see YOUR brand new baby in a jersey when the Eagles are in the playoffs (fingers crossed......playoffs......fingers crossed)

The biggest and best news however is.............Luke learned to say EAGLES!!!! And he still does not say Jets! The verdict is in, kid. I knew you were smart. Thank you thank you thank you for saying Eagles before you said Jets. I never cared if you said Ma Ma or Da Da first......this was way more important to me.