Memorial Day - Pre-kids and Post-kids

I was inspired by another Pre-kid/Post-kid post this morning and decided to do my own.

Memorial Day Morning - Pre-Kids:

• Sleep till 10 or so.  Recovering from partying the night before.  Get up, lounge on couch, eat some toast.

Memorial Day Morning - Post-Kids:

• Sleep till the first child wakes up.  Did not party the night before.  Get up, shower with door open,  feed and dress kids, get to store before gets crowded, take kids to park while no one is there (Score).

Memorial Day Afternoon - Pre-Kids:

• Shower.  Go to the store to get stuff for BBQ you meant to get day before.  Maybe do some yard work before BBQ and friends come over (or you go there).
• Go inside if you get too hot. 
• Eat lunch around 3, so it's actually more like linner.  Food consists of steak, ribs, burgers, brats, chicken, sausage, potato salad, macaroni salad, fruit salad....

Memorial Day Afternoon- Post-Kids:

• Eat some toast.  Go outside.  Fill up kiddy pool.  Change kids into swim diapers and bathing suits.
• Pull up chair to put feet in kiddy pool.
• Get laundry going.
• Don't dare go inside if you get too hot, or the screaming and tantrums will begin.
• Eat lunch at normal lunch time.  Burgers, hot dogs.  Mac and cheese.

Memorial Day Evening- Pre-Kids:

• Have an alcoholic beverage.
• Play bean bags.
• Wish there was a pool.

Memorial Day Evening- Post-Kids:

• Get things ready for a good dinner.  Steaks, potatoes, corn, etc.
• Continue to play in the pool till the swim diaper poopy explosion.
• Discover you are as red as a lobster, because although you put sunscreen on the kids, you didn't put any on yourself.
• Be grateful for the kiddy pool.

Memorial Day Night- Pre-Kids:

• Fire up the grill a second time. 
• Continue to drink heavily.
• Play bean bags terribly.
• Wish there was a pool.

Memorial Day Night- Post-Kids:

• Put everyone in their jammies.
• Relax on the couch and watch a movie.
• Kids pass out.
• Mom and Dad watch Conan.
• Be grateful for the pool.
• Pass out.

Hope you all had a good memorial day.

Welcome, Summer...

Our niece graduated from eighth grade today.  The entire morning and during her graduation, it was thunderstorming.  I'm talking loud thunder, lots of lightning, and pouring rain.

It's not easy transporting a toddler and a baby into a church for a graduation while your husband tries to keep you all dry with a huge golf umbrella.

Our niece is my niece by marriage.  She is my husband's goddaughter.  I've known her since she was about 5.  I've only been her aunt since 2007.  But I feel like her aunt, and I was proud to watch her graduate today.   As  a matter of fact, I am so proud to be her aunt, I did something I've never done before for her party.

I made something that was sort of creative.  I made graduation cap reese cup things.  Ignore the breast pump accessories.

She loved them.  They weren't the neatest or most uniform things, but I'm told they were good and they all got eaten.  So I'm proud.

PJ spent the party being rambunctious and crazy.  Jumping in the bouncy house, playing basketball, running around, dancing.  Unfortunately because the ground was so wet, Miss Maggie couldn't play in the grass, so she was confined to someone's arms for the majority of the party.

Sidenote:  does everyone else's husband just assume that at family parties you'll just take care of the kids and he can go off and do whatever the hell he wants?  You know, maybe I want to play bean bags.  Maybe I want to eat my meal without a child climbing on me, or without getting up to chase one of them.  Oh well.

I shouldn't complain to much.  My husband's family is big and great and loves our kids, and I can usually count on them to watch the kids for a few minutes if need be.

Usually.

At one point, PJ went out the front door onto the porch.  I went to find him and saw one of John's cousins had him.  I asked her if she could keep an eye on him for a few minutes and she said sure.  I went in and changed Maggie's diaper.

I came back and he was no longer on the porch.  I asked where he was and she said he's in the grass.  I looked and didn't see him.  Then someone said, "Oh he's over there."

Running. Down the block.  Into the street.

I screamed his name.  But being 2, he thinks getting chased is a game, so he kept running.  Other people started calling him.  My heart felt like it was falling out of me. 

I'm running, with Maggie. Someone who was standing by a car grabbed him before he got too far into the street.  I grabbed his hand and we walked towards the house.  John came up to me.  Asked if I needed help.  If I was okay.

I could barely think.  "No.  I'm fine.  Go."

If you can't keep an eye on my kid for 3 minutes, don't say you will.   I'll figure it out.

We went back into the house and I got both kids to play in their cousin's (who is 4 months older than PJ) room.  John came in.

"Are you okay babe?"

"No.  I'm not.  I'm not okay that you just assume I'll watch the kids, I'm not okay that you get exasperated when I ask you to, and I'm not okay with the fact that Patty just let PJ run down the block into the street."

My eyes then overflowed. 

"Just go."

The best part is that Patty has a son of her own.  Granted, he's nearly 10. But still.

One good thing that comes of this? My husband is being very nice to me.

I decided to take the kids home, since I knew they were exhausted.  Cue the John being super nice to me.  Helped me load them into the car, etc.

PJ was alseep before I turned off the street.

He slept while I took off his shoes, and pants.  I kissed him good night and put him to bed.

Maggie ate and then fell asleep.  Was in the exact same position I put her in when I checked on her.

I got to take a 15 minute shower. 

Watch Man v. Food.

And blog.

Happy Memorial Day.

Welcome Summer.

And Congratulations Alyssa.

When things suddenly turn everything upside down.

Two years ago today my mom was diagnosed with ALS.

PJ was just two months old.  I was still on maternity leave.  It was a Wednesday.  His christening was that Sunday coming up. 

I had set up the appointment for my mom at the ALS clinic, because I'd read that you should go to an ALS specialist so that someone with experience can determine for sure whether or not you have ALS, since there is no definitive test for it.

I had set up with the expectation she was going so they could tell her she did not have ALS, something else, and she could stop worrying about it.

I'll never forget that phone call.  My phone was on the charger, sitting on the stairs.  It rang and I picked up my 2 month old son and went to the phone.

It took all my strength not to drop the phone. 

It took all my strength not to burst into tears on the phone.

Prior to this day, my mom had some issues with her hand, and a little with her foot.

After this, it seemed like the disease plugged ahead full force.

She continued to work for about a month after her diagnosis.  She tripped one day and cut her chin.  She fell another time.  On my parents wedding anniversary, June 25, she fell again and had to go to the hospital.

After this, her HR person came to the house and told her they thought it would be best if she retired.  It was too dangerous for her.  And they were right.  Her firm was incredible -- gave her 2 months of severance, full benefits, made sure she got her long-term disability coverage.

They raised $20,000 for her.

Her boss offered to pay for, and continues to pay for, her home health care aide, because my stepdad can't afford to stop working and they can't afford to pay for it themselves.

At the beginning, my mom would say she was gonna beat it.  That she was gonna get better, and be able to stay home still so she could watch PJ for me.  For free, of course.  Her eyes would dance and gleam when she said this.

Then the disease continued to progress.  Her other hand was getting stiff. Her legs.  It was difficult for her to walk.  She couldn't cut her own food.   She needed a wheelchair if she had to walk more than a couple feet.

She couldn't pick up PJ.  Or change his diaper. 

She couldn't go shopping with me anymore.

In the early days, we went over there almost every weekend.  As she got worse and worse, it became more and more difficult for me to see her.  I was losing her.  Right before my very eyes.

I never imagine my children wouldn't know my mom.  I never imagined my mom wouldn't be able to come to the hospital to meet her granddaughter.  That she wouldn't meet her till she was 3 weeks old.

I never imagined she'd miss my husband's 30th birthday party.

I never imagined she wouldn't be able to come to PJ's 2nd birthday party.

I never imagined I'd never be able to ask her to babysit, something she LONGED to do.  Something she offered to do when I was 12 weeks pregnant, saying we could go on vacation, and she'd take off work and keep PJ so we could enjoy ourselves.

This disease is the worst I've ever seen.  It robs you of your body, piece by piece.  You are trapped in a body that doesn't work.   It's been around for 70 years and there is nothing to slow it down, nothing to help it, nothing.

This day, two years ago, the question, "Hey, how's your mom doing?" took on an entirely different meaning.

To read more about my mom's condition, please click on the ALS label at the bottom of this post.

Sleeping.

My kids are RELATIVELY good sleepers.  I keep reading all this stuff about how to make sleeping better, etc.

PJ won't fall asleep on his own.  Meaning, if we put him in bed awake, he won't just go to sleep.  He'll cry if we leave the room.  Sometimes he falls asleep on his own on the couch, and then he stays asleep.

Sometimes, it takes 5 minutes of one of us being in the room to get him to fall asleep.  Most of the time, 10.  Once in a while 20-30. 

He also usually wakes up once a night.

Does it suck?  Sometimes.  Yes, sometimes I'd like him to sleep straight through.  I'd like to just put him in bed and have him fall asleep on his own.  This is probably my fault, though because as a baby and as a new mom not being able to stand hearing him cry, I always put him to bed asleep.  I've learned, and Maggie will go to sleep on her own if I put her down awake.  Hopefully she'll continue to do so into her toddler years.

But, in 5 years, or whatever, when he doesn't need me in there anymore to cuddle with, when I won't get to listen to his breathing and rub his back because he doesn't want me to, I'm going to be grateful that I got to spend 10 minutes a day laying next to my little guy, giving him the comfort and safety he needs to feel to fall asleep.

So yeah, I might be able to get another piece of cleaning done, or have 20 more minutes to relax if PJ just went to sleep on his own.  But it's okay.   I've got the rest of my life to sleep good.

PYHO: A Thank You

I am linking up yet again with Shell for PYHO. 

I have a lot to be thankful for.

The usual -- a roof over my head, food in my fridge, clothes for the family, etc.  But I'm not talking about that today.

• I am thankful for the husband who loves me, puts up with me, makes me smile, makes me laugh, wipes away my tears, knows when to talk and when to just hold me, and makes me feel safe.
• I am thankful for the loving, smart, always a character, amazing son I have been blessed with.
• I am thankful for the beautiful, happy, smart, amazing daughter I have been blessed with.
• I am thankful for having some of the best friends a girl can ask for, some of them I've had since I was 16, some I've being lucky to have later in life.
• I am thankful for the family I married into, for accepting me as part of the family, and making me feel that way the moment I entered the picture. 
• I am thankful for the four cheesey flatbread at Jamba Juice.
• I am thankful that Chick-Fil-A opened in my area.
• I am thankful for Ruth's Chris, and black cherry martinis.
• I am thankful for Reef Flip Flops.
• I am thankful for Coca-Cola.
• I am thankful for my mom's old boss, for paying for my mom's home care helper, out of the goodness of his heart, for nearly the past two years.
• I am thankful to the many, many people who donated to the ALS walk, helping our team raise over $3,400.
• I am thankful to all of my friends and family who walked with us.
• I am thankful that I have the ability to say good-bye to my mom, instead of her being ripped from my life without warning, as my FIL was ripped from our lives.
• I am thankful to my dear, dear friend Christina for turning me on to blogging, and being the main, if not the only, reason I started to blog in the first place.
• I am thankful for our vacation that starts on July 1.
• I am thankful we went to Maui on our Honeymoon.
• I am thankful that I know what it means and how it feels to lose a child.  And how much more you appreciate your children.
• I am thankful that for the rest of my life, I will have children to love, who love me, and I will always, always, be called Mom.

PJ aka Trouble. Is a chicken.

Yes my son is a chicken.

In that he won't EAT chicken.

Not nuggets.

Not strips.

Not anything.

Not dipped in ketchup, or ranch, or honey.

He will SORT of eat a McDonald's cheeseburger.  No ground meat.  No meat of any kind.

He'll eat hot dogs.

Help.  What can I do to get my trouble to eat meat?  I don't think he's quite understanding of the finish that and you'll get a treat thing, yet.  But I don't want to wait 6 more months till he's closer to 3 to start getting meat in his diet.

So help me mamas.  He's 2 and 2 months.  Tell me what you did to get your picky eater to at least try meat.

If anything, I'll just have to wait till he understand that if he has 3 bites of it, he can have a cookie.

Sigh.  And here's the trouble Trouble got into today. 

That's shaving cream.

Picture Day 2!

I only post pictures when I remember to post while I'm at home, so here you go!

PJ cruising in his Jeep.

Miss Maggie chillin'.

Showing off her pretty daisy skirt.

And crawling....

And just being pretty.

Gnawing on the crib.  Standing with help from Mommy.

Loves the laundry baskets.

Ready for the Sox game.

Hmm...how can we cause some trouble??

LOVES.  Happiness.

Hope you enjoyed.  :)



Hello, my name is Trouble.

Trouble.

That's what my PJ is.

On Wednesday, at the sitter's house, Trouble decided to climb up on a chair, climb up onto the dog food container, stand on his tippy toes, and press all the buttons on her home alarm.

Thereby setting it off.

Thereby causing the police to come.

And thereby telling my sitter if it happens again there's a fine.

Trouble.

We took the step stool away so he can stop getting in the PNP when Maggie is in there, because although he's a good big brother, he can't quite realize that landing on her is NOT a good idea.

No step stool?  That's okay mommy.   I'll use this:

I'll just stand on the lion's head and get in THAT way.  And when you take that away, I'll just try to swing my leg over the side.  Even though I'm not tall enough, and will inevitably get stuck and hurt myself.

Last night Trouble spent a good 25 minutes simply running around the house screaming and giggling.  For no real reason.  Around the lion.  Around the chair.  In his room, in the kitchen, around the dog, into my arms for a hug, etc.

Of course it took me 30 minutes to get him to sleep because of this.

Trouble.

Then, around 530 when husband gets up, he cried.  I went and grabbed him and laid him in bed with me.  He molded his body against me and grabbed my hand to put around him.  We laid there, him perfectly fitting in the curve of my body, as he fell back asleep.

This.  This is why I am a mother.  This is why no matter how little sleep I get, how much trouble he may cause, no matter how little he eats, THIS is what I will always treasure.  Because it won't be like this for long.

So, today, I am a featured Blogger! (and some Snippage)

This has never happened to me before, and I am super excited, not only because I'm awesome, but because it's for something I truly believe in.

I'm the featured blogger on The Mom Pledge Blog today.  I took the pledge a couple months back.  Basically, it's about not bullying other moms who are pouring their hearts out -- be it on the internet or in life. 

I'm not going to say I don't judge - you bet your ass I do.  I have something to say about a lot of people.  But I try to keep in mind that I don't know the story behind what most people have going on, or what is going on in their life that maybe is just too overwhelming for them to handle right now.

I'm not going to say I've never bullied over the internet either, because unfortunately, I have.  I've also been bullied, but I'm a tough chick, so I can take it.  Some people can't though, and it's important to understand you can be honest and curious, without being an asshole. 

So if you're stopping by from the Mom Pledge, welcome.   I hope you find my blog interesting and decide to become a follower (I have 29, don't you want to be 30?  or 31?  COME ON!) and if you're stopping by because you already love me, check out the Mom Pledge Blog.




Now for the snippage.

My husband is going for his vasectomy consultation today. 

Yes.  We have decided we are two and through.

Done.

Finito.

We always said we'd have three kids.  We lost our first beautiful child to miscarriage only 5 weeks into the pregnancy. 

So we had three.   We just have to miss one every single day.

We have two of the best, beautiful, happiest kids in the world.

Our handsome, fearless, loving, little boy, and our gorgeous, happy, determined little girl.

The "perfect family" some have said.

Our family is complete.  I thought I'd have sadness about it, but I don't.  I am glad that we have the family we have, that our lives have been completely and utterly turned upside down by becoming parents, by having love we never thought possible, by watching our hearts walk around outside our bodies.

I am glad that my father-in-law and my mother were able to meet and love both of our children, albiet for too short of a time, especially for my father-in-law, and soon for my mother.

Two and Through.  And so in love with my family.

PYHO: Don't be a guy.

 

Linking up with the always awesome Shell at Things I Can't Say for PYHO again today.

"Don't be a guy.   The world is full of guys.  Be a man."

For those of you who don't know Lloyd Dobler, stop reading this, go to Netflix, find Say Anything, and watch it, then come back and read.  Or read this first.

Anyway, I am still convinced Lloyd Dobler is the perfect man.  He's charming, funny, sweet, loving, cute, smart and ROMANTIC.  And not in the cheesy, ew, makes your friends fake vomit romantic.  The perfect-kind-of-romance-for-the-girl-he-loves-romantic.

My husband?  Not so much.

My husband doesn't get me flowers often (read three times in six years together), he doesn't buy me cards for no reason (even though I love cards), he doesn't pick up my favorite candy bar when he's out at lunch just to give me a surprise when I get home.

Me?  I buy him cards for no reason quite often, I'll pick up his favorite candy bar, I'll buy him a couple glass bottles of Pepsi when I see them, I think of him often while I'm out and about and will get or do something for him to show him that.

I get mad sometimes, that he's not more romantic.  That he doesn't tell me how pretty I look without prompting (usually).  That he gets aggravated that I insist on cards for every holiday/birthday, etc.  That he can't just get me one fucking gerber daisy once in a while. I know flowers die, but geez.  ONE GERBER DAISY?

But then I remember.

Every single card he's given me. And they are always the best, most true cards ever, and always better than the ones I get for him (although I'm convinced Hallmark just makes better cards for women than men since women are the more likely recipients).  The times he's given me two - one sweet, sentimental one and one that was a little raunchy, or funny, but he saw it and it made him think of me or us, and he bought it.

The fact that although he rarely buys me flowers, he will always run out and get me Hostess Cupcakes (my favorite before bed snack) at 7-11 if I don't have any at home.

The fact that he calls me sweet pea, because I love that nickname.

The fact that when we are out in a group, he'll rest his hand on the small of my back, and when I'm telling a story that I'm emotional about, he'll ever so slightly rub it.

The fact that although he doesn't tell me I'm pretty without prompting, he constantly says to Maggie "You're so pretty baby girl.  Just like your mama."

And you know what?  That's The perfect-kind-of-romance-for-the-girl-he-loves-romantic.

Miracles DO happen.

Do you know what happened last night?

I'll tell you.

I slept from 10:30 p.m. to 4 a.m.

UNINTERRUPTED SLEEP PEOPLE.

Neither of my children woke up from the time I went to bed until 4 a.m. when Maggie woke up to eat. 

I cannot tell you the last time I had 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  PJ, of course, woke up at 6 then, but it didn't matter to me.   And Maggie shortly thereafter.

And Maggie loves the pack and play.  Will just sit in it and play and try to stand up.

And of course, now, PJ wants to get in it too.

So they both played in the PNP while I showered.

After getting 5 plus hours of interrupted sleep.

This makes me feel good about what's happening today.  I have an initial screening interview for a different position at my firm.  It's a position I know I could do great at and I think I would really enjoy.  I really need to get out of the secretarial department so I'm hoping the pay is the same (or better!) and there is not overtime needed often.  So keep your fingers crossed for me.

5 hours.

I love my kids.

I wish I could remember being 2.

I think 2 is probably one of the greatest ages you can be, and unfortunately, we don't remember most, or any of our age 2 life.

PJ had the best weekend ever.  Saturday morning, we went to the store, where he can talk to people and eat bread and cheese as we shop.  Unfortunately the weather in this damn city went from 90 (literally) on Tuesday to about, oh, 45 on Saturday, so no park.  We came home and played inside.

That afternoon, it was my best friend's son's 4th birthday party.  All of PJ's friends would be there.  There was a total of 13 kids and about 7 moms.  PJ had a blast.  Played with toys, balloons, ate pizza, had some cake, got a goody bag.

Yesterday, he was the most rambunctious (sp?) I've ever seen him.  He DID.  NOT.  STOP.  Sometimes on the weekends he doesn't nap, but he'll at least lay down and relax for a little while.  NO.  He was running around playing with this toy, that toy, eating that snack or this snack, helping Maggie play her toys, helping me do laundry, you name it.   He seriously sat down to eat and that was about it.  We couldn't go outside again because of the weather.

He passed out at 6:50.  (I know you probably think awesome, but when PJ goes to bed THAT early, he never sleeps well THAT night.  So yes, I get a couple extra hours of me time before I go to bed, but then he wakes up 2 or 3 times, so it kind of blows).

I was just thinking about how easy it was for him to enjoy himself.  Some yogurt, a hot dog, pretzels, cheese, juice, pizza, cupcakes.  Playing with friends, seeing balloons, watching a little Toy Story.   Getting hugs and kisses and giving hugs and kisses.  Not worrying about anything and knowing that when you go to sleep and when you wake up Mommy or Daddy will be there to greet you and smother you with love.

As trying and stubborn as my little guy can be sometimes, I love him being 2.  I love his personality, his loving and caring for his sister, how he climbs up on me when he is still sleepy or getting sleepy.  I love when he grabs my face to give me a kiss, and I love how he tries to give Maggie some of his yogurt.  I love how he wants to climb up on Daddy's chair and sit by him and how he dances to the hot dog song on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  I love that although he can easily go down the stairs by himself, he still reaches for my hand so we can count together.  I love how he giggles, oh does he giggle, when we "chase" each other around the room, or when I tickle his belly. 

I love when I pick him up for bed and he rests his head on my shoulder, and I can feel the warmth and contentness he feels because he knows he's safe and loved.

And I love that I get to experience 2 again, with Maggie.   And that I can tell them how their 2 year old life was.  And how much I loved living it with them.

PYHO: Letting Go

Once again, I'm linking up with Shell for PYHO.

And I apologize for the somber feeling of my posts today and yesterday.

It's been brought to my attention that my mom is starting to give up.

She doesn't think the doctors, aides, equipment will help her.  She doesn't want to use them.

She doesn't want to extend the inevitable.  What's the point of living longer when you are trapped inside a body that doesn't move?  All the stuff that can be done will only prolong her life -- for how long?  A month?  Two?  Six?  We don't know.  And what kind of life is it?  It isn't one.

I don't blame her.  And if she is done, if she no longer wants to live this way, I support her 100%. 

And I am going to tell her this.

I am going to tell her that I cannot imagine sitting in one place for an entire day.  That if a piece of hair falls in my eye, I can't lift my hand to move it, I can't open my mouth to ask someone to move it for me.  I have to sit and wait for someone to hear my grunt or noise and somehow gesture with my eyes or maybe one or two face muscles what I need done, because that's all I can move.

I am going to tell her that I cannot stand to see her suffer this way, and I understand if she no longer wants to. 

I am going to tell her that I will be okay.  That I love her more than anything, and I will miss her like crazy -- and that I already do, but I am totally 100% in support of whatever she wants and respect her decision.

I am going to tell her it's okay for her to let go.

It's okay to leave.

Because she's not living.  Her body has failed her.  Her mind is starting to fail her because she is depressed.  Who wouldn't be?  If she gets on anti-depressants, will she want to live?  Why would she?  Nothing will change.  She still won't be able to wave hello.  Or kiss her grandchildren.  Or have a glass of wine.  Or move.

My stepdad wakes up every two hours at night to move her.  So she doesn't stay in the same place for two long.  She can't even move her foot if she wanted to.  I wonder what happens if she wakes up say, half an hour after that.  She can't tell him to wake up.  She can't shake him awake.  She has to sit there and hope he hears her grunting or just wait for him to wake up.

I am hoping she can get some hospice care -- not for her, but for my stepdad.  He needs help.   But will he take it?  I doubt it. 

So I need to ler her know that I love her, that she'll always be with me.  That I am not selfish enough to expect her to live this way when she has the most horrific disease I can think of.  I am not sure how I am going to have this conversation.  She can't say anything back to me.  But I need her to know she doesn't have to stay here for me.

I already miss her.  A good blogger friend put it best.  I hate that it would be easier if she weren't around so I could finish mourning her.

It's okay Mom.  Grief is a part of life.  I love you and I always will.  I respect your decision.  Go.

Who would have thought a phone number could make you cry.

I was sitting here at work, ecstatic about the beautiful weather, when my phone rang.

I looked over at the phone and saw the number on the Caller ID.

It was my mom's cell phone.

My mom can't make phone calls.  I picked up the phone in a panic.

"Hello?"  I couldn't say Hi, Mom, because I knew it wouldn't be her.

It was Linda, her best friend, who I've known since I was in the womb.

She visits my mom every Tuesday. 

I wrote a message to my mom in her Mother's Day card.  I told her not to read it while I was there, to read it when she was ready, because it would probably make her cry (ALS makes you cry and/or laugh uncontrollably, my mom is more of the crier).

She waited till today, till Linda came over to read it.

She had Linda call to tell me it was totally totally awesome.  And she loved me very much.

I told her what a great mom she was.  I told her how hard it was for me to see her in pain and suffering, and how I am sorry I don't come by as much as I should but it's so difficult for me to see her that way.  I told her I couldn't imagine what she's going through but I could never find enough words to tell her how much I loved her.

I told her that she showed me what it means to be a terrific mom.  And that I'll spend my life trying to be half as good as she was.

I could hear her crying in the background.

Me?  I'm in tears because the last time she actually called me I didn't realize it would be the last time. 

This time, I know.

Happy 7 Monthday, Maggie!

My beautiful baby girl is 7 months old today.  This is also means that in 5 months I GET MY BOOBS BACK.  But let's focus on what's important.

Maggie:

• can crawl like nobody's business.  I put her down in the living room, went in the kitchen to get juice for PJ, turned around, and BAM there she was
• can get herself into a sitting position from the crawling, laying position
• has MASTERED downward facing dog, and is desperately trying to use it to stand up
• loves puffs, mums, pretty much food in general.  We tried some french fries the other day.   Today, cheese.

She smiles all the time and is such a happy happy baby, just like her big brother.  I love watching them interact.  When she wakes up, PJ is the first one to run to the door and wait for me to open it, and then run in and say Hi GEE GEE! and she just smiles at him.  He reaches in through the crib slats to rub her head and always lets me know when she's crying.  PJ also tries to feed her his yogurt when we're eating and tries to help her with her puffs and to learn the sippy cup.

I know they won't always be so in love with each other, but at least now I am enjoying watching my happinesses love each other so much.

And now, the wonderful thing that I only have about 4.5 more months of pumping.  Do you know how AMAZING this is?  Do you know how fantastic it is that the end is in sight?  If you've been a pumping and working mama, I know you do.  I love breastfeeding, but pumping just sucks.  And I have been pregnant or breastfeeding and pumping since oh, July of 2008.  By the time I'm done I'll have loaned out my boobs for over three years.

I am so ready to buy pretty bras where the cups don't open.  To wear something with a shoulder strap that isn't the width of my belt.   To have a bra that is purple or pink or green, or lacy or sheer or floral, instead of tan or white or black with  no design whatsoever.  I am going to go on a bra spree come October.

John better get ready. ;)

I like celebrating me.

I didn't cook this weekend.  Or do laundry.  I got to celebrate me.

I was off on Friday and able to take PJ and Maggie to the park, where they had a blast.  Then we had a happy meal -- which PJ ACTUALLY ATE which was fantastic.

I got three beautiful mother's day cards, my husband ended up NOT golfing on Saturday, which is amazing, and made breakfast for me both days.  I got to spend a wonderful weekend with my kids and my family and had a great Mother's Day. 

The weather has finally turned here in Chicago and it's so fantastic.  I am so glad to be able to wear a dress or skirt and not freeze my ass off.

Yesterday PJ played outside all day.  We got home around 645.  I set him up with a movie and went to get Maggie changed and ready for bed.  Came back out to the living room and guess what?

Sound asleep.

Slept through me changing his diaper and putting on his jammies. 

Being outside all day will do that to you.

Remember those days?  Playing hard all day, smelling like outside, and not feeling the least bit tired until you finally came in the house and sat down, and suddenly you couldn't keep your eyes open.

That's what being a kid is all about.  :)

Happy Mother's Day to all of you!

Love, LOG

Oh, and P.S.  I love Spanish Buzz.  LOVE. 

The Cutest Story I Wasn't Home For.

Sitter is on vacation this week, so husband is playing Mr. Mom Tues-Thurs of the week.

He was sitting watching Toy Story (1, 2, or 3, who knows, but I can act them all out for you complete with emotion and stage presence) with PJ on the couch while Mags was motoring all over.

She started to fuss, so he picked her up.

All that motoring made her sleepy, so she fell asleep.

With her head on big brother's shoulder.  (Unfortunately, no picture as husband was underneath the two of them and I AM AT FUCKING WORK).

After a few minutes, PJ goes "Stuck! Da! Stuck!" and points at Maggie.

Husband shushes him, and quieter, PJ says "STUCK!"

How I hate working.  So much.

PYHO: Kids on Mother's Day

Linking up to Shell today for PYHO.




Mother's Day is Sunday.  It is the third Mother's Day I am celebrating as a mother.  I will also be celebrating the other mothers in my life -- my mom, my mother-in-law, my gradndma-in-law, and my sister-in-law.

My SIL and I get the short end of the Mother's Day stick because we are the youngest mothers. It's okay.  Grandma has had 6 kids, 9 grandchildren, and 6 great grandchildren.  Our moms have us and all our kids.   I am okay with going to visit Grandma on Mother's Day and maybe not having some relaxing "I do nothing at all today" day.  Because I get to spend it with my KIDS.  Which is the reason I celebrate Mother's Day in the first place.

Yes, it will be nice if my husband makes breakfast, lets me sleep in a little, gives me some cards and maybe some flowers.  But what I don't understand is the moms who say all they want for Mother's Day is to be WITHOUT their kids.  It's MOTHER'S day.  And you want to be away from the people who are the reason you are celebrated on this day? 

I'm all for time for myself.  I need a spa day now and then, a girls night out, a time where I can be Lisa and not Mommy.  I just don't understand how people think Mother's Day is the day to do it.  I want to be with my kids the whole day because they are the amazing, wonderful reason that I am wished a Happy Mother's Day.  They are the ones that make my days happy and awesome, and the ones who get excited when I walk in the door.  The ones who give me hugs and kisses and cry when I have to leave because they just want me to stay.

So I think Mother's Day should be spent with the people who call you Mommy.  The little ones who melt your heart when they come give you a hug because you are sad and they can tell.  The little ones who smile so big when you walk into the room, you can't help but scoop them up in your arms and tell them you love them.  The little ones who love you no matter what. The ones that eventually will insist on picking out their own card for you, and will make you a cute craft at school to bring home and give you for Mother's day.

That is what Mother's Day is for.  Moms.  And the ones who made them that.

Picture Day!

So Maggie is crawling like a champion. PJ got a black eye at the park on Saturday. And I want to post some pics! So enjoy and comment because you love me. ;)


These are all from Easter. Enjoy!

Love you PJ and Maggie!!

Two and Through.

Originally, we wanted three kids.  Of course, that was when we thought we'd be moved by the time our second was born, in a bigger house with more space. 

It was also when PJ was a super easy baby and before Maggie was a little trying her first month or two of life because of her reflux.

It was before my mom got sick.

It was before John's dad died.

We now have the "perfect family" as many people have told us.  I'm done being pregnant.  I want my boobs back.  I've been pregnant or breastfeeding for nearly three years and it will be over three years by the time I am done nursing Magge.

We'd need a bigger car.

We wouldn't be able to go on as many vacations, or do as many cool things, or buy as many things as we would like for our kids because the money would be scarcer.

We wouldn't be able to be selling the baby clothes/items/toys we no longer need.

And neither of us wants a child to come in this world that John's dad and my mom (most likely won't know).

Not to mention, we did have a third child.  We lost him or her.  We'll never know if it was a him or her, or what he or she would have looked like, how much he or she weighed when born, grown up to be, or anything else.  So we had three babies, but one got taken from us.  And I truly believe everything happens for a reason.

So we're two and through.  And thrilled about it.  I have an IUD right now, until John can go and get snipped.  Which will probably be sometime in August or September.

I couldn't be happier.  My kids are phenomenal.  I love my family.

John, Lisa, PJ and Maggie.  The O'Gs.