The power of touch...

I don't think that I will ever forget the first time that I was able to hold each of my children.  Ever.  They brought Lilli into me as I was still groggy and shaking from the c-section.  This teeny-tiny little ball of red skin and bright eyes.  Jim and my Dad were in the room, and I was totally overwhelmed.  TOTALLY.  She was mine.  My baby.  My baby girl.  I silently whispered to her, as I would to all three the first time I held them, that I loved them for a long time already, that I would always love them, and that I would never leave them.  When Abigail was born, her heart was not beating properly, and she was whisked away to the NICU.  She would stay there for about 48 hours, and my arms ached to hold her.  I was first able to hold her in the Mom's room, and Jim and I stayed there until they told us she needed to go back into her "hut".  Austin was the longest wait, three days.  They attempted to let me hold him on the 2nd day, but within seconds his stats dropped and bells and whistles went off.  He went back into his hut, too.  I would sit on the side of his incubator, placing my hand through the little hole and just stroking his tiny, ultrasoft leg.  When I was able to really hold him, along with his oxygen, it was the best feeling ever.  So tiny, so trusting, so depending on me.

I am lucky that I have children who love to snuggle, perhaps because I rarely put them down as babies and we had a awesome daycare that did the same.  Even Lilli, who is almost 5, wants to be picked up when she is tired to rest her head on my shoulder or against my cheek.  Austin just wants to snuggle, to play with a necklace or an earring, or pick your nose (I know, right).  And Abigail is ATTACHED at my hip, and on my leg, and usually pulling on an arm.

And I love it.  I love being a Mom.  For as many days as I whine and complain and moan about it, there are double that in times that I stand in their rooms at night, watching them sleep, and get teary eyed.  I love them, more than I ever thought I would be able to love anything.

Lillianne Julia

Born and held June 20, 2006

(and would like it to be known that this picture

was take at about midnight after a 6AM induction

and then c-section at 7PM.  I am normally much cuter.)

Abigail Helen

Born June 18, 2007

Held June 20, 2007

Austin Matthew

Born July 25, 2009

Held July 28, 2009

Cannot rejoice in someone else's death....

Almost everyone on Facebook is overwhelmed with the joy of the murder of Osama.  And I am disturbed by it.  While I understand what Osama did was HORRIBLE and UNFORGIVABLE, and has caused more pain and suffering than anyone could ever comprehend, but is it really justified?  Do people know that he, too, had young children?  Somewhere there are daughters and sons mourning the loss of their father.  (Insert the standard reaction of..."How many sons and daughters over here cried when he killed their parents?  How many sons and daughters were born afterwards that never met their parents?)  I get it....I just don't believe that one death (or thousands of deaths) justifies another.  And do we really think that it is "over" now?  I fear this is only the beginning...that we are walking down a very unstable bridge and it will break. 
And what are we teaching the next generation?  What will you tell your children about this?  Will we say that "This time it was ok to hit back because he hit us first?"  I am sad.  Really, really sad.

UPDATED....Thank you Schevone

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that." --Martin Luther King, Jr.

I cheated on him....

I love him so much....I almost always have.  He's handsome.  He smells good.  He is not quick to judge me.  He smiles a LOT.  And I am pretty sure my mom likes him, too.  But I wasn't so sure.  I didn't feel the same about him....I wasn't as happy with him as I used to be.  I was beginning to feel anxious when I walked into the house, knowing that he was there.  I knew he wouldn't say anything, that he would just smile at me.  I didn't know I would feel so guilty about betraying him.  But I do....And, as I think it always ends up, the grass was NOT greener on the other side.  So, do I tell him?  Do I apologize?  Do I just try and act like nothing happened and hope that he doesn't notice.  He will notice.  But he will still not judge.  And he will still have that same smile...

I know....I made a bad decision....I made a wrong choice....I...I....

I cheated on Mr. Clean and my Hoover FloorCleaner with Fabulouso. 

I am so ashamed.  I should have known better.  The floor is not as clean and it does not smell as good.  I will go back to him.  I will apologize. 

And I will never do it again.  EVER.  Not even for a really good sale.

OMG...I want to clean....

I hate to wash my kitchen floors.  HATE. IT.  I hate it so much sometimes I just don't do it.  Whoever built this hours probably didn't think 50 years into the future about a family of 5 with 2 giant dogs who might not appreciate 260 square feet of white tile in the kitchen.  I don't appreciate it.  Especially in the spring, it is NOT appreciated. 

On my quest to do things outside of my comfort zone (cleaning, eating healthy, not yelling at the kids), I made a purchase.  Somewhat of a large purchase, but still under the "I should talk to my husband about this first" limit.  And I love it.  I am in love with it.  It is my new best friend.  I want to add it to my will.  I think every home in America should have it.

HOOVER FLOORMATE



I know, right?  It's BEAUTIFUL!  It's MAGICAL!  It does things to a floor that you would NOT believe!  It washes, it dries, it vacuums.  It purrs...ok...well...it's actually a little louder than a vacuum, and that's another reason why I heart Hoover.  My kids and the dogs do not want to be NEAR me while I am running this machine.  And that's a good solid hour of alone time.  It has 7 little green spinny circle brushes that I can only compare to the HUGE machine the grade school janitor would use to buff the floor.  And they pop out so you can wash them if it was a particularly messy job.  The dirty water is in one place, the clean in another.  You can use your own soap (I am in love with Mr Clean Fabreeze (the green one)).  It dries in less than a minute.  You can use it on hard-wood.  Yup...I said it...dual purpose!  And if you ever get to that part of the floor where you wish you had swept first, it can vacuum, too!  Someone get me an infomercial!

Go get it...you know you want it....

Mommy Guilt 101

Today is the day!  It's THE day!  IT'S THE DAY!  It's the end of Lent at sundown, which means I get to log back into Facebook.  But do I really want to?   Ummm...yeah....I will be there.

I have looked forward to today for a while, not just because of connecting with Facebook after 40 + days, but because it was the PreSchool Easter Party, and I got to be a Helper Mom.  The girls have been waiting ALL year for me to come.  Every party they asked if it was my turn.  So, today it was!  And I can say with all confidence that I made the right decision by NOT becoming a preschool teacher.  32 adorable, energy-filled, over-excited 3 and 4 year olds for 2 hours...and I am ready for a nap (or a drink)!  I made sure to point out to the teachers that they are SAINTS for what they do every day.  SAINTS.  Send a note to the Pope and start the process.

So, after games, coloring, arts and crafts, snacks, and an Easter Egg Hunt, I had to leave for work.  Abigail hesitated for 2.2 seconds before kissing my hand (she didn't want to wait for me to bend over to give her a real kiss) and then running back to the playground.  Lilli, however, well, she is my first baby.  And she was none too happy to have her mommy leave.  None. To. Happy.  I enlisted the teaching assistant to help pry her from my arms and legs, and as I walked out of the room, shoulders slumped and feeling like the WORST MOM EVER, she cried and shrieked.  Like I was ripping her heart out.  (don't worry, Lillish, mine was ripped out, too.)  Insert hours and hours of Mommy-guilt.  I have to work.  Jim and I, both working, have created a (mostly) comfortable life-style for our kids.  They don't get everything they want, but the get everything they need and then some.  They have clean clothes (and enough to clothe a small village).  They have nice toys.  They have food and shelter and heat.  And lots and lots and lots of Mommy's love.  But to keep us at that level we have to work.  She hasn't thrown a fit like that in months, so I am trying to tell myself that she was just overstimulated and that she stopped crying right after I left.  But as I sat at my office desk, I almost wanted to cry.  I wanted to be with my baby.  All of them.  Ok, maybe all of them, but not all at the same time....that's a lot of kid. 

I have nothing else funny to say....just feeling the Mommy guilt....






But did I mention that I get to go on Facebook tonight?

You know what's better than Mom?

Me:  You have a little fever.  Do you want to snuggle together and watch some TV?

Lilli:  No, but can I just have some jelly beans?

I am biased...but they are cute...

Thank you kukubows.com!

Can someone eles appreciate the shoes with me?

Always a little lady!

She is growing up WAY WAY too fast.

This was the summer of 2009....umm...wow