Friends it has been too long.  Maybe not for you, but for me.  The rambling thoughts continue to swirl and I find myself eager to finally sit and spew some upon you.  My apologies in advance.  First and foremost, I have decided to clear the air and let go of some of the things that, as of late, I am over.  That’s right.  I have officially broken up with the following.  Good riddance.

1.  I am over being skinny.  That’s right, done.  Healthy, active and eating nutritious foods are in, but skinny?  Done.  I am finally okay with the fact that I am no longer the skinny girl.  Pretty darn liberating.  My stomach jiggles, as do other parts, and it is totally okay.  A little cellulite to round out the field and that’s fine too.  My husband is hot and he likes me which is an added bonus.  After all who am I trying to compete with?  Professional models or the 16 year old girls at the mall?  Um, no thanks.  I’m a 32 year old mama of three who has no desire to wear skinny jeans or be a size 2 ever again.  Been there, done that.

2.  I am over being anyone other than myself.  Over it.  We have lived in a number of different “flavored” cities in the past decade.  Cities where people are “nice,” introverted, stoic, hard to read and quiet.  I am NONE of these things.  The more that I try to become these things, the more miserable I am.  And so I’m done.  I will simply be the high energy, extroverted, tell you what I think at all times person that God created.  I will drink lots of coffee and complain about cold weather because I miss the sun.  That’s who I am.

3.  I am over trying to make my children be anyone other than who God has designed them to be.  Over it.  The exhaustion of trying to reign in a high energy child, while forcing a shy child to talk more with new people, to pleading with children to not pick wedgies in public and the list goes on.  What a drain on me AND my sweet girls!!  They are great little people and individuals.  Why would I mess with that?  Next time I catch Molé digging in to retrieve the undies that have nestled in between her sweet tush I’m claiming her in all her wedgie conquering glory.  After all, props to her for being brave enough to relieve the discomfort in public rather than doing the secretive movements adults do to adjust the same problem.

4.  I am over comparing when my kids did what, for how long and how well with your kids.  OVER IT!!  I don’t care because you know what, if we’re being honest, there will be lots of things that your kids do better than mine.  And there will be things that my kids do better than yours as well.  And, on top of it all, there will be things that all of our kids do poorly.  There, I said it.  Not all of our children are the geniuses that we claim them to be.  They are flawed just like their parents.  Some will be totally awkward in athletics, others will not be able to hold a tune to save their lives and some may need extra help to pass math.  ALL OF THAT IS GREAT!  The sooner that we as parents start being real about the fact that our children are not perfect, and start to celebrate the huge RELIEF that that brings, the better.

5.  I am over trying to be fashionable.  Over it.  To be honest, I would rather spend an extra $5 on a latte than a cute article of clothing.  There is nothing wrong with wearing cute clothes or being fashionable.  Nothing at all.  It’s just not me.  I am a jeans and t-shirt with minimal make-up, gets my hair cut once a year at a haircut chain, forgets often that I need to “groom” my eyebrows, leaves the house without brushing my hair at times, can’t stand to wear anything that is uncomfortable kind of girl.  What is the first thing I do when I get home?  Put on sweats!  I cannot relax in anything else.  Call me quirky, but this is how I roll.

6.  I am over having a perfect home.  Over it.  If you ask my dear mother, she will testify to the fact that I have never been neat.  My room was a disaster area as a kid.  I am really, really good at making clutter.  I could probably go pro.  I have never been a person who felt the “urge” to clean, scrub and perfect my house.  If I have an hour of free time, it will not be spent cleaning regardless of how many dishes are in my sink.  My house is messy because I’m spending my time doing other things, not because I’m lazy.  That is a revelation. I used to think it’s because I was lazy, but the more I speak with people who do have tidy homes (let me say that my house is clean, but cluttered.  there is a difference) I find that these are people who actually enjoy cleaning and are driven crazy by clutter.  Alas, it all makes sense!  Have no fear, though, because if I do invite you over I will pick up.  :)

I could go on, but I have three children in beds and I plan on joining them.  Even if it’s only for five minutes.  What areas of your life do you need to let go?  What is bogging you down?  If you find yourself stuck in a cycle of comparisons or expectations let it go.  Find freedom in allowing yourself to lay down the burden and guilt of it all.  Be yourself not only as you mother, but as you live.  In all things be YOU.

Lately my BQ has surprised me with her insight and thoughtfulness. I don’t often give her enough credit for the amazing things she does.  I find myself just wanting to gobble her up these days and that is a gift.  She’s totally too cool for my constant demands to kiss her delicious cheeks and snuggle with me, but I’ll take what I can get.  At any rate so I don’t forget and so that I publicly affirm my sweet girl here are a few treasures of late.

- As we were walking into the community center to play yesterday she casually says, “Mommy, thanks for taking us on such a great adventure.”

- During dinner the other night, “Thanks for cooking us such a good dinner Mommy.”

- Tonight after I read the girls a book we stayed a snuggly threesome on Molé’s bed for prayer time.  One of the things I prayed for was that God would help me to be a good Mommy to the girls and their brother.  After the prayer, BQ looks up at me and says, “Mommy, you’re a good Mommy.”  I told her thank you but explained that I always want to be a better Mommy.  She said, “But Mommy, you’re the best Mommy in the whole world.”

She is simply delicious folks.  Mommy’s heart= mush.

Today was the first day of the girls’ swim lessons.  Let’s just say that swimming isn’t number one on either of their lists.  Um, maybe not in the top 100.  At any rate, The Doc and I have always loved the water.  I did more splashing while The Doc swam, and did very well I might add, all the way through college.  When you grow up in a hot place, you swim.  And you start very young.  Unfortunately we have been stuck in places where outdoor pools are uncommon, or empty/frozen most of the year, and our girls have not had much exposure to swimming.  They’ve been to the beach, wading pools, etc., but have never really learned any type of swimming skills.  At 5 and 3 it’s time, not because I have aspirations of them one day reaching the Olympics, but honestly for their safety.  I was worried that there would be copious amounts of screaming followed by “Mommy Mommy MOMMY” but was pleasantly surprised at how well it went overall.  Were there tears, yes.  Was there one bout of “Mommy, Mommy, MOMMY,” yes.  But they do not seem to have suffered any permanent emotional scarring.  We’ll see how the next six weeks go…

BQ the other day while setting up her dollhouse…

“So you just put this here and move this over there and…voila!”

Thank you, Fancy Nancy.  We dig the “fancy talk” up in here.

(BTW does anyone else find it odd that Nancy never reveals the name of her little sister?  That fiery little brunette goes incognito, but why?  Discuss…)

So my baby starts kindergarten this fall.  Um, WHAT?

I finally went to the district website, downloaded all of the registration forms and now have the task of registering my little girl for school.  Real school.  It isn’t that I don’t think she’s ready or that I’m worried she won’t like it, or that the school is bad.  She is going to be fine.  Actually she is going to be more than fine because the girl loves school.  And our neighborhood school just happens to be fabulous.  I, however, am picturing myself driving home from dropping her off on the first day a sobbing mess.  Is the school day really 6 hours?  Why don’t I live in a place with a half day alternative?  It might be a 5 latte day with a double cheeseburger and fries to wash it all down.

I know that to many out there this all sounds ridiculous, but for me this is a bit like an end of an era.  I’ve been home with BQ since she came home from the hospital.  I’ve been blessed to spend long days with her, everyday, for five years.  The start of school means losing those wonderful hours.  Hours that I have at times taken for granted.  The preschool years fly by and once school begins things just aren’t quite the same, even if you are homeschooling.  I can’t wait to watch her learn and grow in new ways, to develop new skills and gain independence.  It’s going to be awesome.  But it’s also going to be different, and 6 hours apart each day, and another part of what is often the hardest thing about mothering- letting go.  As much as I would love to be able to fully control all of her input and output for all of eternity I can’t.  She is going to have to try new things, fail, and go places without me for the rest of her life.  This little girl, who was placed in my arms as a tiny 6 lb 10 ounce baby five years ago, will grow up.  My job isn’t to try and curb that or wish it away (though random acts of denial from time to time can be permitted I think ).  My job is to be her mom along her life’s journey.  To help her to grow into the woman that God has created her to be- not the person that I want her to be or am forcing her to be.  To provide her with a safe place and unconditional love.  I don’t want to let go, because in many ways it feels like if I do I will lose her and obviously I don’t ever want to do that!

And then I realize that as much as I don’t want to lose her, she doesn’t ever want to be lost.  I’m 32 and I still need my Mom.  I need her in more ways than I can count and I will never, ever be done wanting to be her daughter.  It doesn’t matter how old I am, where I live or what I’m doing.  When life gets crazy, I need her.  When I have really good news, I can’t call her fast enough.  When I feel like a failure, I can cry to her.  She is always there.  Always.  I don’t ever want to be a lost daughter or to lose the intimacy and love I have from my Mom.  Even when I’m 85 I will still desire to be a child in the eyes of my mother.  To be cherished and loved in a way that only she can provide.

When I think about myself as a daughter and how I have passed through the phases of entering school, graduating school, going away to college (she’s going to live at home and go in state, right?), getting married, moving even farther away, having babies, moving again, and on and on I am relieved.  Why?  Because my mom is still a part of it all, even if her role has changed.  I don’t need to her to remind me to wash my hands after I go to the bathroom anymore, and I think that’s a good thing for us both!  I need her to tell me that I’m still a good mom when I yell at my children and to tell me I look beautiful all bloated and chubby after having a baby.  The seasons of my life will always change, but who she is to me will not.  A Mommy once is a Mommy forever.

And so I guess I’ve come to the conclusion that while I will be crying after the first day of school and will definitely need the next 6 months to prepare myself for the big day, it’s all good.  Really and truly.  I am not going to waste my time fearing or grieving too long about what is to come because I want to spend my time enjoying my child for who she is in that moment.  Years will come and go, she will continue to grow, and I am definitely along for the ride.  My beautiful girl will always be just that- mine.  Nothing, not kindergarten or anything else that life can bring, can change that.  And that brings me peace.

Dear Makers of Method Baby Products,

Babies are yummy.  Babies are delicious.  Babies, yes, are almost edible.  Almost.  Their soft and squishy bodies beg to be kissed and nibbled.  The cheeks, the little toes, the bellies…

So why, with such scrumptiousness already abounding, must you turn my baby into a marshmellow?  That’s right, you and your wonderful gentle cleansing powers that leave my baby’s skin soft and fragranced with rice and mallow.  My inability to stop kissing my babe’s head has required repetitive applications of lip gloss and while I cannot place all blame for his kissable head on your product, it is not helping.  Perhaps it might be better to place a warning label upon your product to cover the benign words “rice and mallow” so that a new mom will more accurately understand that she is about to coat her luscious little one in the smellable version of marshmellow fluff.  Just sayin’.

Thank you for your time.

A concerned and very weak mom

We’ve all heard the phrase, “A watched pot never boils,” right?  But what about those “unwatched” pots?  Those that evidently do boil?  In my experience, their expression could be, “An unwatched pot boils, burns, spills over and creates a mess that you’ll be able to enjoy/clean for weeks to come.”  This is also true when items go unwatched in the oven.  Let’s just say the creamed spinach I made on Christmas, which erupted in the oven, continues to make itself known each time I use the oven.  (since I cannot seem to remember to clean said oven in between uses).

What is the point of all of this you might ask?  Only that life these days feels a bit like an unwatched pot churning and burning on the stove.  The ingredients, the recipe itself is fabulous, but the execution leaves something to be desired.  My days of pot watching will return, and then I’ll lament the fact that nothing is boiling.  I’m embracing the burnt edges and sticky stovetops because they mean that I’ve got better things to do.  Things like nursing a sweet baby boy, playing “Saint Nicole” with my little girls and occasionally taking showers and pondering when pots may or may not boil.

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for another round of “What Amy’s Loving These Days.”  (I really just heard that in a game show host’s voice in my head.  Perhaps it’s the sleep deprivation talking?)  Just a little thing I like to do from time to time to remind myself that my life is pretty flippin’ awesome.

Squishy baby cheeks

Baby carriers (there is a good reason that women have been wearing their babies around the world for thousands of years- it’s fabulous!!)

Community centers with indoor play areas

Lattes…lattes…lattes.  Double split shot 12 oz please.

Little girls who are sisters and best friends

Nap time when three children are simultaneously sleeping (not an everyday event of course)

A husband who works so very hard

A sister in law who is willing to add your needs to her grocery list

BQ remembering and telling me about a dream for the first time (we were going to the moon, Daddy was Saturn…)

Renting and not owning our home (or cave/basement apartment to be more accurate)

My sweet swagger wagon (don’t fight the minivan people, they are AWESOME)

Wearing pants that involve zippers and buttons in public

Having a washer/dryer in my home (poor thing is working overtime with 5 people, one of whom makes A LOT of laundry)

The sound of my girls playing together

First smiles from a sweet baby

My mom who loves my little girls so much that she is willing to make an extra trip just to make their birthdays special

When Molé’s answer to The Doc’s question of “What made you happy today,” is “When Mommy hugs me.” (um, yes, yes please delicious cutie)

BQ deciding to share a treat she earned with her sister without being asked

A Mother in law who brings you soup and goes on adventures with your girls

The fact that my girls will go anywhere for any amount of time in the car because of a two disc Christmas cd that contains the tunes “Frosty” and “The Real Jingle Bells” (they have new titles according to the ladies).  Are there 40 songs total, yes.  Do we listen to only two, pretty much.  But a backseat of giggles and cute singing…how can I complain?

Watching my girls come up with games to play together.  Love this stage!

Being at home full-time

Baby Zantac (oh how sleep has improved for my little boy who no longer has a burning esophagus)

Being a Mommy of three

That’s it for me, but how about you?  Make your list and refer to it during the crazy moments.  It will hopefully remind you why you do what you do and how blessed you are to be doing it.  :)

Last week at my moms’ group a fellow mom asked me the ever-so-popular-but-extremely-annoying question, “So, how’s he sleeping?”  How many of us when in the trenches of carrying for a newborn are asked this if not on a day to day, then an hour to hour basis?  It isn’t that there is anything wrong with the question, it’s more of what it does to the mom who has to respond.  You see the truth is that babies, those warm and squishy fresh new little people we take care of, do not sleep well.  Wait, what?  Yes, yes, shocking I know.  But let’s be honest, especially for the sake of those out there who have not yet become mothers, about what it really means to “sleep like a baby.”  Babies eat a lot and poop a lot, with digestive systems that still have to get the kinks out, and therefore wake up A LOT.  Sure when they are truly asleep they could probably sleep through the what not that occurred in films like “Deep Impact” and “Independence Day,” but at 1 to 3 hour stretches it leaves much to be desired.  Through A LOT of hard work and consistency babies can actually learn to sleep in a way that a sane adult might actually enjoy, but it takes time.  And that time cannot include things like illness, teething, learning to crawl/pull up/walk, or travel.  Personally, I think the phrase should be corrected to say something more to the effect of “sleeps like a teenager.”  12 to 13 hour stretches on the weekend with a wake-up time of around noon…um yes.  Yes please.

So that was my answer today, by the way.  I smiled at her, wiped the fresh spit up off my shoulder, and simply said, “Well, he sleeps like a baby.”  Years from now I will be threatening things like, “You cannot fly your hovercraft tonight with your friends if you don’t get your booty out of bed and beam yourself to school.”  Today, however, I am rejoicing in the small victories like right now when he is all swaddled up, belly full of milk (all still in his belly without the usual spit up eruptions), diaper at a comfortable fullness level, and cute little kissable cheeks resting soundly in his bassinet.  As Sara Groves sings in the song Fast Asleep,

“Nothing in this world is quite as sweet, as a tiny baby fast asleep.  I could watch you to the end of time, especially when that baby is mine.”

Nothing does compare to the beauty and sweetness of my baby boy sound asleep, dreaming.  I am reminded of how blessed I am that he is warm, well fed, safe, and here.  That he is breathing all on his own.  (someday I’ll post about our rocky start).  So many around the world care for babies just as sweet, just as beloved, and just as lovely without the means to provide for their basic needs.  Many others face empty bassinets and empty arms as they grieve for the little ones they have lost or never had.  My baby is no more valuable, no more treasured and no more deserving than any other one.  So I remain grateful, and pray that as he sleeps like the baby that he is, that I would remember how much we do have, even if sleep is lacking.

Just a few cute things the girls have said lately.  I don’t trust my brain these days so I am recording them before they evaporate.

1.  After lighting the Joy candle on our Advent wreath, we asked the girls what brings them joy.  Molé, while sitting in my lap, looked up at me and said, “Loving you.”  Could she be more delicious?

2.  The Doc and BQ were reading a book together when Molé came up and asked, “Will you dance with me?”  The Doc told her he would when he was done reading to which she replied, “But I want to dance with my prince.”  Has someone been studying “how to get whatever you want from your daddy” books?

3.  BQ, while trying to convince Molé to trade toys explained, “But Molé, I’m just trying to tantalize you.”

4.  BQ has been in love with her brother.  Sweet girl can’t get enough, though for his sake I put limitations on the love.  Anyway, the other night as she was praying before bed she said, “Dear God, thank you for my baby brother.  I just love him.  I don’t know what I’d do without him.  He’s just…I love him.”  And on, and on for about five minutes.  Cuteness.

Okay I’ll stop.  I’m sure this is ridiculously boring for you guys, so let’s just call this a post for me.  Alas, I have three children behind closed doors right now and better go seize whatever moments of rest I can!