Vessel - me.
Humpty Dumpty - me.
HOT (temperature...obviously) - me.
Popsicle - OKAY!!
Ankles - tree trunks
Tree Trunks - my ankles
Got lost at Ross today and had his mother in tears - LB
Mother of the Year - anyone but me.
Humpty Dumpty, crying and shaking in a B-rated discount store - sad
Exhausted - me
DONE - me
Needs 8 more weeks in the vessel - Jack
Easily irritated - me
Excited - me
Worried - me
In love with 4 boys - me
A mess of emotions - me
Super lucky - me
Monday, June 25, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Sort of a dark, charcoal gray
My oldest is driving me up the wall. Do I need to let some stuff go? Am I being too hard on him? Not being smart about which battles to pick? Probably. Is it him or is it me? It's me. In all honesty - it's usually me. My big, beautiful boy is a wonderful kid. He asks a lot of questions. He's sort of demanding at times. Relentless when he sets his mind to something. He isn't as affectionate as he used to be. That's probably my fault too. I kiss the little one more than I kiss the big one. That's crappy of me. It isn't intentional, it just is. My big boy is getting really good at making smart ass remarks when he gets into trouble. I guess I shot myself in the foot on that one. I can guess where he learned that sort of attitude. Osmosis. He's also charming and smart and sweet and inquisitive. He's growing up. I'm so incredibly taken with him, and proud of him, but sometimes I'm only half listening. I can't snowball him anymore. He calls me on stuff. And I'm just tired....and I feel SO guilty when I'm not the Mom he deserves. I realize I'm being vague....it's just that this post is a result of insomnia, and having to get up to pee for the 450th time today. So I'm not into details. I'm so tired, yet so awake.
My little boy. My little boy is the sweetest part of my life right now. He unfortunately drives his brother insane, and today that earned him a wooden train to the ear (from his "had it up to here" brother) which resulted in a really scary looking double goose-egg type thing complete with blood. Keeping an eye on it. Anyway, my rose colored glasses are permanently fixed on my little boy at this point. More and more, I'm finding myself just gazing at him. Watching his perfect lips as he eats his peanut butter sandwich....smiling at him like a love struck teenager and then starting to cry when he hugs me as tight as he can. Loving his nose, and his laugh, and his bad hair. Hormones? Sure. With every pregnancy, I'm reminded of how effing (pardon the blatant fake F-word) psychotic (maybe not in the *true* sense of the word - thankfully - but you get the picture) I become. NEVER AGAIN. But maybe I'm sort of mourning the loss of my little boy as the baby of our family? I don't know. I can't wait for this to be over. I'll take a newborn crying all night over this crazy state of mind any day of the week. This is our first consciously planned pregnancy, and I'm happy about having a new baby - but with this blog as my witness - NEVER again. It just isn't worth what I go through mentally. I worry about my boys constantly, and against my will - I find myself imagining my life without them. All the terrible things that could happen. It makes me cry, and I know that there wouldn't be life without them....and so I will myself to knock it off already. But it's an exhausting process. Some people have postpartum issues - my issues are during pregnancy. The baby is my reward for a job well done, and my ticket out of this mess. Thankfully - I don't go through this all the time. It just comes in cold, murky, waves.
Well, heartburn is pulling me away, as is my bladder. Again.
Tums. The bathroom. And hopefully - sleep.
My little boy. My little boy is the sweetest part of my life right now. He unfortunately drives his brother insane, and today that earned him a wooden train to the ear (from his "had it up to here" brother) which resulted in a really scary looking double goose-egg type thing complete with blood. Keeping an eye on it. Anyway, my rose colored glasses are permanently fixed on my little boy at this point. More and more, I'm finding myself just gazing at him. Watching his perfect lips as he eats his peanut butter sandwich....smiling at him like a love struck teenager and then starting to cry when he hugs me as tight as he can. Loving his nose, and his laugh, and his bad hair. Hormones? Sure. With every pregnancy, I'm reminded of how effing (pardon the blatant fake F-word) psychotic (maybe not in the *true* sense of the word - thankfully - but you get the picture) I become. NEVER AGAIN. But maybe I'm sort of mourning the loss of my little boy as the baby of our family? I don't know. I can't wait for this to be over. I'll take a newborn crying all night over this crazy state of mind any day of the week. This is our first consciously planned pregnancy, and I'm happy about having a new baby - but with this blog as my witness - NEVER again. It just isn't worth what I go through mentally. I worry about my boys constantly, and against my will - I find myself imagining my life without them. All the terrible things that could happen. It makes me cry, and I know that there wouldn't be life without them....and so I will myself to knock it off already. But it's an exhausting process. Some people have postpartum issues - my issues are during pregnancy. The baby is my reward for a job well done, and my ticket out of this mess. Thankfully - I don't go through this all the time. It just comes in cold, murky, waves.
Well, heartburn is pulling me away, as is my bladder. Again.
Tums. The bathroom. And hopefully - sleep.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Difference
Let me just apologize up front for having such a "boys mom" attitude about this. I'll also add at this point, that I know there are sweet, nice, friendly, little girls in the world - lots of them!
The Scene -
Today we went to a sorta-local petting zoo/park/amusement ride place. One of BB and LB's favorite attractions, is this big maze. While running around the maze, they found a couple of other little boys to play with who were about the same age. The boys were all fast friends, immediately striking up a game of hide and seek, followed by Tag, etc. They were holding hands, laughing, and having a great time together. When we went our separate ways, the boys waved to each other - "See you later!"
We went on to do other things, and later in the day came back to the maze. This time, there were little girls to play with. LB ran up to them and said "Hi guys, whatcha doing?" Bratty Little Witch from Hell #1 put her hands on her hips, stuck her face up close to my little angel's perfectly angelic face and told him very nastily that he wasn't in their game and to go away. Bratty Little Witch from Hell #2 pushed him. It was of course, all my power at this point not to rip this kids head off by the pony tails and throw her - pink frilly skirt and all - over the wall of the maze. Her idiot mother saw the whole thing and didn't say anything. UNBELIEVABLE. I told LB not to play with them because they were brats. Yes. I said exactly that. LB looked up at me and asked me why they didn't like him. I told him that it didn't matter whether or not they liked him, because they were mean little people who didn't deserve to play with him. Yes. I said exactly that. By this time, BB's protective instincts had kicked in. He was shadowing LB....just making sure that no one else was going to mess with his little brother. If anyone was going to push LB around - it was only to be BB. That's how it is in sibling world. I was talking to another Mom who was there, when I heard a bit of a commotion going on in the maze. Once again, these mean little girls were picking on LB. I heard BB tell them that they were being "jerks" and to leave his brother alone. I know, I know, it isn't okay to call names. But honestly, I'm just glad I didn't hear either of my boys call anyone a "shit head" as they've been known to do. Plus, I was proud of BB for sticking up for his little brother.
I had had it with these hideous little creatures and yelled "ICE CREAM TIME." My wonderful sons came out of the maze, and we left.
I'll say this as diplomatically as I can because I have friends who read this blog who happen to have darling, wonderful little daughters (not nasty ones like those mentioned here) :
Girls and boys sure are different.
The Scene -
Today we went to a sorta-local petting zoo/park/amusement ride place. One of BB and LB's favorite attractions, is this big maze. While running around the maze, they found a couple of other little boys to play with who were about the same age. The boys were all fast friends, immediately striking up a game of hide and seek, followed by Tag, etc. They were holding hands, laughing, and having a great time together. When we went our separate ways, the boys waved to each other - "See you later!"
We went on to do other things, and later in the day came back to the maze. This time, there were little girls to play with. LB ran up to them and said "Hi guys, whatcha doing?" Bratty Little Witch from Hell #1 put her hands on her hips, stuck her face up close to my little angel's perfectly angelic face and told him very nastily that he wasn't in their game and to go away. Bratty Little Witch from Hell #2 pushed him. It was of course, all my power at this point not to rip this kids head off by the pony tails and throw her - pink frilly skirt and all - over the wall of the maze. Her idiot mother saw the whole thing and didn't say anything. UNBELIEVABLE. I told LB not to play with them because they were brats. Yes. I said exactly that. LB looked up at me and asked me why they didn't like him. I told him that it didn't matter whether or not they liked him, because they were mean little people who didn't deserve to play with him. Yes. I said exactly that. By this time, BB's protective instincts had kicked in. He was shadowing LB....just making sure that no one else was going to mess with his little brother. If anyone was going to push LB around - it was only to be BB. That's how it is in sibling world. I was talking to another Mom who was there, when I heard a bit of a commotion going on in the maze. Once again, these mean little girls were picking on LB. I heard BB tell them that they were being "jerks" and to leave his brother alone. I know, I know, it isn't okay to call names. But honestly, I'm just glad I didn't hear either of my boys call anyone a "shit head" as they've been known to do. Plus, I was proud of BB for sticking up for his little brother.
I had had it with these hideous little creatures and yelled "ICE CREAM TIME." My wonderful sons came out of the maze, and we left.
I'll say this as diplomatically as I can because I have friends who read this blog who happen to have darling, wonderful little daughters (not nasty ones like those mentioned here) :
Girls and boys sure are different.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Yeah....that pregnancy test was right.
Here I am, heading into the eighth month. Holy.Freakin'.Cow. According to the scale, I've only gained 14 pounds - YAY ME! It sure does feel like more though.....ugh. And of course, as I mentioned in my previous post - there was cheesecake to be had....and before that we went out to dinner....and I had a steak because it's been so long since I had a steak. So who knows - I may be up 5 lbs. since Friday. 
Thank you
Honey, Thank you for being so good at this whole parenting thing. I could never pull this off without you! Thank you for loving our little boys so very much - and thank you for being so very good at showing them that you do. Thank you for being so damn handsome. You are at least 50% of why our kids are so cute. Thank you for being so good to me. You may not tear up in sad movies, or always know exactly what to say, but you are absolutely perfect for me and I wouldn't change a thing about you. Thank you for this family. You and the boys are my dream come true. We've gone through some "stuff", and I know there's more "stuff" to come - but we always get through it. Thank you honey, for being the best husband to me, and father to my children that I could ever ask for. Happy Father's Day!PS -
Thank you for saying that the blueberry cheesecake that I made you was way better than bakery bought. I actually believe you!
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