Monday, December 28, 2009

Top Ten of 2009

As this year comes to an end, it's time to reflect and think about the year that has past.
Here's my Top Ten of 2009.
(in no particular order)

10. Watching Banana play hockey. Girl's got some heart for the game.
9. Loving The Chef more than I did last year. He really pulled through, and was the man I knew he was.
8. Finally understanding that I don't have to do it all... that I can relinquish some control... even if it bothers me.
7. Understanding that enjoying my children for who they are, not what I want them to be, is one of the greatest things ever. They are really neat little people.
6. Renewing friendships that I thought were long gone, and finding the joy of new ones.
5. Seeing Kim.
4. Meeting Sue.
3. Making and keeping promises to myself.
2. The simple things are sometimes the best things.
1. Pineapple

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

We got our Marine!

The Chef had this wonderful idea. He suggested that we adopt an Armed Service member who is deployed overseas. We can write to them, send goodies, and just try to make their day a little brighter. Just something to say that people do care.

But there is another reason why we are doing this. We want to show our babes, who have damn near everything and anything that they want, that there are simple things that people can do to make someone's life better. That we need to support our service men and women... even if the only thing this family can do is send cookies and other small items.

We are going to have the babes draw Our Marine pictures, and I am thinking that Butter and Banana may write letters that we can send with the package.

I am excited about this. I hope that Our Marine has the time to email us back. If not, I have a few ideas of what to send from a few of my girlfriends who husbands are in the military. Maybe once Our Marine opens the package and sees how kick ass it is, we will get a response.

I just see this as being a good thing for all of us.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Notes to Self: Early Dec. Edition

Notes to Self is a way that I can remind myself of things that I need to improve on, things that I need to let go of, and just a way of acknowledging things, and getting "that stuff" off my chest.

So here it goes:

Note to self: If Pineapple wants a bottle at 5 am, you can not close your eyes for "just a few minutes". You will wake up like you did this morning, with your mother-in-law in your living room.

Note to self: You know you have approx. two hours between feedings. An hour and a half if you take into consideration the half an hour you have to hold her upright so formula doesn't come out of her nose. Do yourself a favor and stop acting surprised that she wants another bottle.

Note to self: It has only been two weeks since you have had surgery. Cut yourself some slack. Yes, you still need your pain pills. Yes, climbing the stairs still hurts. Yes, bending at the waist is STILL a bad idea. Take it easy. You don't have to be a martyr.

Note to self: At least start off in your bed tonight. I'm sure The Chef misses sleeping next to you just as much as you miss sleeping next to him.

Note to Self: Try and remember that Butter is only 9 and Banana is only 7. You need to take a deep breath before you snap at them. They don't mean any harm, they just want to help. They just want to be with you too.

Note to Self: It's okay. It really is.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Baby Poop and Formula

I refuse to be one of those mothers of a newborn that does nothing but share all the gruesome information about their new baby. Not saying that it is a bad thing... and I am sure when I had Butter, I talked a lot about it too... but being older and wiser, being that he was my first and I am now on my fourth, I just want to hand you a copy of "Everyone Poops"and go about with my life.

You wanna talk about how awesome your new baby is? I am all ears. You wanna talk about how grainy your new baby's poop is? Not so much. I am dealing with my own formula and poop issues. Thanks.

Sometimes I miss the nuances of being that new mom. The excitement when you figure something out, on your own, and it works. With the second, you know what works; with the third there is hardly any surprises; with the fourth... it comes back to you like riding a bicycle. Butt Rash that isn't getting any better? Make some Butt Balm.

You get the idea.

But with that first one, the one that gave you the title of Mommy, there is something that is just mystical about everything.

You don't yet know the magic words to shoo away the monsters that are in the closet or under the bed. You don't yet know the heartache when you send them to school for the first time. You don't yet know how proud you feel when they finally master something that have been working on. You don't yet know the way that a lost lovey makes you feel. You don't yet know what it feels like when they truly understand and utter the words "I love you"...

and "I hate you".

Not to say that each new baby is a blessing; not to say that your heart doesn't break when these things occur with the other children that you just so happen to be blessed with. But it's not as shiny. It's still awesome, and of course it's exciting because the new babe is saying it, but it doesn't have the same exact... what is the word I am looking for... newness. It's not exactly the same, but it's not completely different either.

Butter will be 10 on his next birthday. Everyday is something new with him. Banana is right behind him, and I do enjoy the fact that I can look at her and say, "I don't think so, your brother tried to pull the same stunt." It makes me feel powerful and all knowing... because I am in a way. Butter taught me. Butter more than likely got away with it because I didn't know any better, or I didn't catch on.

I love all of my babes... each and every single one of them. I do adore them when they need to crawl into my lap. I understand that they need to cuddle when they don't feel good. But there is something that is just that much more when Butter still needs me. I give it another year or two before he honestly believes that I am one of the dumbest humans to walk the planet.

And like always, he will take the lead and prepare me for when his brother and sisters start to feel that way too.