Cribless

My SIL is giving birth to my fourth and last niece or nephew sometime in the next week to 10 days.  We offered her the crib and dresser/changing table that PJ and Maggie used.

Which meant we needed to get Maggie into a big girl bed.

So we bought her bed. 

And I bought her Tinkerbell bedding. 

John disassembled the crib. 

I cleaned out the dresser.

And now, our house is cribless.

I'm not sad.  I'm happy.  My babies are growing up so fast but this age, the toddler stage, is awesome.  Especially with PJ - we can have conversations, he notice things, is aware of what's going on, remembers things, can express his feelings and thoughts.

My baby girl is now a big girl.  In a big girl bed. 

Time flies.

The Dance

I'm glad I didn't know...the way it all would end.  The way it all would go.

Our lives are better left to chance.  I could have missed the pain.  But I'd have had to miss the dance.

This song played at my mom's funeral.

Five months today Mama.

I fucking miss you.

See it in Stone

Miranda Lambert's "Over You" came out on radio play in mid-February, right before my mom passed.

My mom was cremated.  We didn't bury her ashes till June.

There's a line in the song

It really sinks in, you know, when I see it in stone.

I think of this line often.

I'm not a cemetery person.  I choose to remember those I've lost in happy ways -- not buried in dirt. My grandmother, who helped raise me, who I adored with my whole heart, passed away in 1997.  Not once have I visited her grave.

However, my husband is.

And my father-in-law, who passed 13 months before my mom, is buried at the same cemetery as my mom.

Four spots away.

So when he wants to go to the cemetery, I feel it would be hurtful and disrespectful to not go "visit" my mom.

I break down every time.

This time, as I got on my hands and knees and tried to make sense of the name carved in the marble, I saw something that looked like a piece of paper, a thick piece of paper.

I picked it up.

It was a card.  A card, with her name in a heart.  From my stepdad.  For their anniversary, no doubt.  Eighteen years on June 25.

It broke my heart.

John helped me up, and back to the car.  Upon approaching, as he does often when he sees my tears, PJ said,

"Mommy's sad Daddy?  She misses grandma."

And after I got into the car "Mommy, no sad.  Grandma's in heaven.  I love you."  Followed by a smile.

And Maggie, "NO CRY MOMMY!"

And how I want to tell them I don't only cry for my loss, but for their loss of a grandmother who would have made them feel loved and amazing every day of their lives.  A grandmother who would have done anything for them -- and did in the short time she had to enjoy them -- and who would have stopped at nothing to make them the happiest kids on earth.

One day I'll tell them.  One day.  And my heart will break all over again.

The Titles Moms Have

"MOM".

It's a very little word that has so many descriptions.

Diaper changer.
Boo-boo kisser.
PB&J Maker.
Bath giver.
Biggest fan.
Favorite person.
Toy fixer.
Potty trainer.
ABC teacher.
Story reader.
Bedtime captain.
Make it all better mommy.

A great website, "Mommy at Heart" is taking some of these jobs moms do and making t-shirts.  And not only that, they are donating $5 from every t-shirt sold to a great cause.

Each month, they find a new nonprofit organization that focuses on issues affecting women and children worldwide and partner with them to raise funding and social awareness for their cause.

I am personally a fan of this one: http://www.mommyatheart.com/product/scary-monster-hunter

Which one would you like?  And now, till August 3, my readers get a special discount of 15% off if they buy a t-shirt from this great website.

Use this code:  LISASRDRS4WORLDCHANG


(I don't normally plug things like this on my blog, but the shirts are super cute and it's great to see charities be helped).

hello, old friends, if you're still here.

It's been awhile.

I haven't felt like writing much.  I've been dealing with my mom's death and dealing with issues in my marriage.

I'm hoping to make a comeback.

PJ and Maggie are wonderful and amazing.

Maggie says more words everyday. Her big thing now is "my turn" and "I help."

PJ loves to yell "NEVER!" when we ask him to do something (see Lightning McQueen, Cars 2, when (SPOILER ALERT) Mater is trying to get away from him because he has the bomb on him).

They are both very much aware of my sadness.

If I cry for any reason, PJ will come up to me, take my head in his hands and say,

"You sad mommy?"

I usually nod.

"You miss Grandma?" 

I nod again.

"No sad Mommy.  I miss Grandma too. She's in heaven."

The ache and hole in my heart gets bigger everyday that passes without my mom.  I didn't know we'd say goodbye so soon.  I think back to my bridal shower, my wedding, the birth of my son.  I would have laughed or hit you if you told me my mom wouldn't make it to his 3rd birthday.  To my 5th wedding annviersary.  To her 56th birthday.  To her 18th wedding anniversary.

The hole will never be filled. 

But I have two wonderful, amazing, sweet, unbelieveable children.  That remind me that my life is more than worth living.  That remind me that no matter what, there is always something for me to come home to, something for me to get up for, something for me to smile or laugh about.  They show me that you can find happiness in sadness, you can find love in anger.

I love you, PJ and Maggie.

And you Mommy.  I love you and I will never, ever, stop.

Come by.

I'm tinkering with tumblr.  I know you want to visit me.

http://imwhatwilliswastalkinbout.tumblr.com/

Hugs,

LOG

A PSA

This morning, PJ asked for toast.  Our toaster is in the basement because is our small ridiculous kitchen there's no place for it.  I went downstairs to make it, both kids trailing behind me.

I get upstairs. PJ is upstairs, and slam.

I turn around.  He closed the door on Maggie.

I go to open the door.

He locked the door.

From the side that Maggie is on.

And she can't open locks yet.

Cue the freaking.

I start yelling.

PJ starts crying.  Scared as shit.  Yelling "MAGGIE MAGGIE!"  (I feel bad I scared him but i was scared too!)

I find a screwdriver.

I take the doorknob off.

I can't get to the lock.

The tools are all in the basement. 

I frantically search for a small flat screwdriver.

I find one.

I unlock the door.

Maggie is smiling.

So, my friends, your PSA is this:

Do not let your 3 year old come up stairs in front of your 20 month old if there is a lock on said door.  Oh, and taking off the doorknob won't unlock the door.