Truman: Mom, I wish I could marry (the puggle dog) Dodger.

Me: I know. You really love him.

Truman: yes, I do. But he’s not the marrying kind of person. He’s the dog kind of person.

Me: indeed.

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Motherhood redux

My children made my dreams come true. My children suck the life out of me daily.

Nothing restores my love for them like watching the photo stream on my computer while they sleep.

I watch the smiles with newly missing teeth, meld into

a kid whooshing for the first time downstream in the current at Flat Rock, merge into

a 7yo who can barely tolerate his little brother hugging him fiercely because the younger has bumped a major body part, turn into

a photo of my middle child blissed out at a monster truck rally that I shocked myself by not only enjoying but having a favorite truck, which blends into

pictures of my eldest and youngest with face paint on as they play self-created superheroes.

No one told me any of this when I was dreaming of, then struggling mightily for, the babes.

I am grateful. I am overwhelmed.

I am mom. Imperfect, scared, fierce, winning it.

Loving it.

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Welcome Back

I’ve hacked into my WordPress account! I’ve got logins, passwords, and best of all, it’s on my phone now, too.

Bring on the posting!

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Library day

“It’s bedtime! Each of you can pick one book.”

Grif dug into “Survivors: the night the titanic Sank” and hasn’t spoken since. Truman is reciting from memory the entire “Ladybug Girl” in his hands, and Maya’s, well, she’s a tad conflicted.

 

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Caught

In the act. DUDE. I’m right here! Unhand my panties.

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Chart

Maya made a chart to keep track of who gets to disembark first from the bus so they don’t have to jostle each other. So civilized!

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Tooth # 5

It never stops being exciting. At 8:15 on a Sunday night, I’m glad I bought enough dollar coins to cover a mouthful of fairy visits.

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More often than not

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With children 6 1/2, almost six, and two, there is much jockeying for the biggest piece, the best toy, mommy’s undivided attention, the first turn.

More often than not, though, they work it out and pitch in together. There are some materials that are guaranteed to enable teamwork and merriment in our house: rocks, water, sand, mulch, snow, corks*.

A Barbie party became a swimming hole, which turned into a truck wash. With three kids we have three giant dump trucks (duh). An hour later, I’ve got dinner ready, I’ve blogged (!?!), and they’ve got extra sibling goodwill stored up. And I’ve got photographic evidence of them having a fun, happy, childhood for proof when they hit puberty and start denying it.

Life has been a lot too busy these last few, um, months? Years? But it is rich, for sure.

* (We’ve been saving our wine corks for years – a super toy for diggers to scoop and move around, to use in the tub; an extra bonus it’s that they don’t hurt like Legos or glass gems when you inadvertently step on them in the dark.)

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Waiting for Godot

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Or the school bus. Whatever.

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This moment, indeed

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Bigs are in bed listening to the story “The Dragonling” on iPod, Grif pumped full of antibiotics and ibuprofen to ease his strep. Grandma noticed that my wife’s car wasn’t in the driveway at 7pm and came over to spell me; she’s bathing the wicked big toddlah.

I’m sitting on the deck sipping a beer, listening to Pandora and playing gin rummy on my phone, and watching proudly as the new pooch joins our two mature dogs on the twilight romp over our 8+ acres of invisibly-fenced property as the sun sets.

There’s mopping to do, laundry to fold (always) and taxes to do still (my bad).

This moment is full of joy and calm and gratitude. There have been fewer of these moments of late with a crazy two year old busting his siblings’ chops moment by moment. It’s one reason for the scant blogging.

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