Monday, May 25, 2015


I was sitting rocking Oliver tonight contemplating how much I love my babies.  I was singing old hymns.  Those are bed time songs, no?  Well, they are to me.  And You are my Sunshine.  In my memory my grandfather is singing it to me and so I sing it as my first song of the night to every child.  I love that Griffin gets it wrong and sings, "you make me happier."  I love that.  Sometimes I sing it that way just because I don't want him to change it.  I like to laugh about and write all of the things that make me giggle, annoyed, frustrated in my mommy world.  I couldn't love them more.  I hope I say that enough.  I don't think you can say that enough, though.

Tonight I was reminded of how much I'm loved.  Griffin told me he loves me more than I love him.  He loves me to infinity.  Katchillions come before infinities and he loves me more than that.  He said that.

I like to tell my boys how much I love them and why.  I make sure to start with that I love them because they are kind.  It usually is in some order of "I love you because you are kind.  And funny.  and smart.  And thoughtful.  and handsome."  Meyer told me, "I wuv you.  Is kind."  I can't.  It's too much.  It is more than I could hope for.  He also told me that "Mama pretty."  Hello, favorite child.  Other than the other 2.

Oliver lights up when he sees me.  He snuggles up in my neck.  He is precious and sweet and lovely and adorable and I'm sure he will be very kind.  He has 2 great examples.

I love them.  More than they could ever know.  To the moon and back.  From their head to their tippy tippy toes and everywhere in between.  More than there are stars in the sky.

And I hope they never change.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Oliver is 8 months old. He's almost one. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE??

Where oh where are my other posts about this amazing baby?  Mostly, I appear to suck at updating.  Three kids man.  Time suck.  THis isn't to say that I don't have approximately ONE MILLION pictures of each child.  I do.  They just seem to not make it to the internets.

You turned 8 months on mother's day.  You roll with the punches.  You are happy.  you SIT.  Not reliably, but you do.  You started at 7 months so we can claim that.  You smile.  you laugh.  YOU LOVE MOM.  A lot.  I write this because you may not admire me as much one day.  If I walk by you and don't pick you up.  You cry.  You refuse a bottle.  You refuse a cup.  You hate pureed food.  You clearly know that you are too big for that.  This weekend you chowed down on guacamole and refried beans.  That's your Texas showing.

I can't find our 6-9 month clothes so you are shoved in some 3-6 monthers and some bigger.  You are too big for some and too small for others.  You are 6 months gestational age.  You are probably more advanced than a 6 month old.  Maybe? Surprisingly, I have now had 3 babies and I can't remember the important milestones.   I keep looking at Griffin and our friends that are a few months older than him that are ALL going to kindergarten in August and think of how much happens in that first few years.  How much changes.  How a baby who is 4 months old is so different from a newborn, but when they are 4 and 5 there are not any differences.

He is such a dream.  He is more than I could have ever imagined he could be.  We spent so long being so worried that it seemed like he would never arrive or would never leave the NICU.  Look at you.  THRIVING.  You listened to my prayers.  You are a miracle.

You don't love sitting.  You love standing.  You are handsy.  You grab.  You love puffs and mum mums.  You love your brothers.  When we walk down the stairs and Meyer REFUSES to let me help him, you laugh and laugh.  It takes like 15 minutes.  Not sure how you think it's that funny.

You weigh about 17 lbs.  I carry you and hold you all of the time.  You could not be more adored.  By everyone.

I love you.  Can't live without you.  I need you.  I miss you when you sleep.

Meyer Boo is TWO

He may tell you he is two or he may tell you he is 4.  Whatever mood strikes, I suppose.  He also cannot show you two on his fingers, but shows some sort of gang sigh, I'm sure.

He is in LOVE with his bobby--his paci.  We have limited bobby to his bed or car.  Then, when he turned two, just to the bed.  I'm weak though.  He is so darn cute with it.  He actually napped at a friends house today and so I packed it and he found it and it was like someone relapsing.  He was so stinking happy.

Speaking of happy.  This guy is generally HAPPY.  Like when he woke up this morning and I went in and he threw his arms up in the air and said, "MOMMY!  I pootsthed."  Because he has a lisp and can't say poop.  And pootsthed is cute.  He also loves "bock bocks."  which are his flip flops.  Constant statements, "Mey Mey's bock bocks.  Mommy's bock bocks.  TWO BOCK BOCKS."  He has started saying Griffin instead of Bubba sometimes.  He has started saying everything and anything all of the time.  Non stop.  He loves mommy.  You are so so snuggly.  You love to sit in someone's lap.  You refer to a lot of things by their sound.  ooh ooh is Monkey.  You love ooh ooh (curious george.)  You notice things.  Way more things than we give you credit for.  Your laugh is hilarious.  You have a million expressions.  Seeing you be sad is terribly sad.  Your face melts.  You know some letters.  Your favorites are O, M, R, S, and Y.  Why?  I have no idea.  You started noticing them all over.  I look back at your newborn pictures and feel like we had to rush through your babyhood because another baby came.  You are still such a baby.  You LOVE singing and dancing.  You like to get a guitar and say I sing the "wee why dong."  (super why song) and close your eyes and groove.  You are also known to sing "let it doe." (let it go).  You also want to do everything your brother does.  You get upset when you can't.  You want to run.  I want to kiss your cheeks all of the time.  Which is fine by you.

I hope you are always so happy.  I hope you always enjoy a good snuggle.  I hope that you continue to want your mommy, fight hard for yourself, love your brothers unconditionally, and always enjoy a good snack.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

my love affair with Austin

This morning I was making my way downtown with not a lot of sleep in me.  I was feeling unmotivated and it was dark.  Then I saw them.  My people.  I mean, not the people I was supposedly meeting, but the running people.  It was 6:30 and they were clad in their reflective gear going across a bridge.  Running as a group.  I can only assume they are discussing their lives, their families, their hopes, their dreams, their chaffing.

I love this city.  I wasn't sure when we moved here almost 8 years ago that I would.  Then I joined team in training and made friends.  GOOD friends.  Friends who you tell your sister is pregnant before she tells her friends.  Friends who count on you to show up at 5:45 am.  Friends who count on you to find some open place for them to go to a bathroom on a 20 mile run because she sat down on the road and couldn't go any further.  Pretty wonderful.

So I felt all nostalgic.  I felt excited.  and I felt moved.

Thanks, Austin.  For showing off with your amazing weather.  Your packs of runners.  And your coffee.

Mortified Mom. Party of one. Or a million.

I have been embarrassed by my kids before.  You know, like that one time that Griffin told our neighbor that because of her big nipples she wouldn't fall down the storm drain like kids would.  Yah, that was embarrassing.  I haven't had that middle of the grocery store mortifying moment, though.

It happened.  Yesterday.  Worst.  I wondered how I was ever allowed to have a child, much less three.  It was over something trivial.  I was already sweating from having Oliver strapped to me and pushing the car cart through the grocery store.  SCREAMING.  ALL OUT SCREAMING.  Telling me I'm mean.  Screaming.  crawling out of the cart.  Terrible.  I started sweating more.  Meyer started crying because Griffin was crying.  Oliver started crying because we were hot and he was hungry.  And I tried to decide if I could abandon cart and run.  I couldn't though.  I'm single parenting and we already had the groceries in the cart and there is NO WAY IN HELL I'm returning for at least three weeks because there is no way anyone will forget this scene.  Everyone was looking.  Staring.  Gaping.

Thankfully, someone came to my rescue.  I can only imagine that she is also a mom or a teacher of children with ODD.  She rescued me.  Twice.  Maybe three times.  She loaded all of my items onto the belt.  She blocked my child from trying to run.  She helped me in the parking lot.  I gave her flowers.  Literally, I did.  I should have given her all of my groceries and probably one of my well behaved children.

So other moms--You can save someones life.  Probably her sanity.  Make her forever indebted to you.  Don't look at other kids throwing fits and think, "OMG my kids will never act like that."  It's possible that you could be wrong.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Griffin is 4.5

Four and a half.  We have been talking about being four and a half for MONTHS.  You are so excited to be four and a half.  And that is worth celebrating to me.  So we made a cake.  A 1/2 cake to be exact.  We also sang half of the happy birthday song.  You had a pretty great day.  And I love that you love a celebration.  You are a smart smart boy.  You are kind.  Energetic.  You hate sleeping.  You have a lot of emotions that you have a hard time controlling.  You feel deeply.  I love you.  I love having conversations with you.  You remember EVERYTHING.  You also know everything.  You are competitive and a sore loser.  You are active.  You are handsome.  You love making paper airplanes.  You have moved from playing trains to only building train tracks that include legos.  YOU LOVE LEGOS.  A lot.  And coloring.  And I love you.  More than anything in the world.  My first baby.  The reason I'm a mama.  1/2 of the reasons I wake up in the night.  You never want to be alone.  Sometimes I can't wait for you to go to bed because you have spoken every word that has ever gone into your brain all day.  Then you go to bed and I need you.  I love you.

Life with three

Life with three kids is crazy.  With 2 kids I managed to keep our house all clean and mostly organized and did things like arts and crafts with my kids.  And I went to work.  Um, what?  Right now, post retirement, I feel like I sit never, clean never, do arts projects infrequently.  I feel like no one gets any attention.  I love all of you.  I can't wait on bed time.  When it gets to bed time I ache for you and lament everything I've done wrong that day and how I didn't hold you enough.  All of you.

Our house is messy.  We have piles of laundry which I swore I wouldn't have.  I stay until you are asleep.  I feed you quickly.  I let you get by with a lot of things.  Sometimes you learn how to sneak into our bed and I let you.  You are each growing and I hate it and I love it because I get to see the little people you are becoming.

I wonder if you could ever know the love I have for you.  Sometimes I wonder if you have lost your minds because you are screaming.  Sometimes I wonder if the world will learn to cherish you like I do.  Mostly, I know that the world won't and I hate to share you with the world.  I keep thinking that i need a night away or a full night of sleep, but when I think about leaving you I get sad.

I have great aspirations of making miracles for you, but right now, I feel like I'm failing at that.  But I love you.  a lot.  Even when you lose your minds and I know mine is already gone.

Don't change.  Keep changing.  Never settle for less than miracles.