Thursday, July 30, 2009

One Year

Today is Jane's first birthday.  Today she is walking around the house, arms raised over her head in her "Papa Tango" style.  Today she is playing her her new toys, chasing after the cats, and playing with Jay and Annie.  Today she learned to "pat" me.  I picked her up for her morning nap, "Can you give Mama a pat?" I asked.  She reached her little baby arm around my shoulder and patted my back.  It's funny, those little movements that take us totally by surprise.  Sure, I provide her every need and want, and she depends on me for everything, but it was that little movement that said, "Hey!  I really LIKE you Mama!" I wanted to shout, "You LIKE me!!  You really LIKE me!"  All Sally Fields and stuff.

It's amazing how far a year has brought us.  I could bore you with tales of how hard her pregnancy was, how worried we were that I would miscarry, the preterm labor, the preeclampsia.  THE 25 WEEKS OF BEDREST.  But I will say that Jane's healthy arrival, 5 weeks early, was such a triumph that it erased all those things. I could get all sappy here, but I won't.  Instead, I will leave you with this video of messy baby eating her birthday cupcake while her mother sings out of tune and the big kids make a lot of noise.  Happy Birthday sweet girl!  I'm so excited to get to know the person you are becoming!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

And the Thunder Rolls...

So, we had some pretty good thunderstorms roll through at about midnight last night.  When I was a kid I used to love thunderstorms.  The sound of the rain was relaxing, and combined with the crashes of thunder and flashes of lightening provided just a hint of danger that I always loved.  I'd lie in the bed, listening and snuggle down under my covers, knowing that I was safe in my bed while the danger of the elements roared outside.  Nothing made me appreciate the security of my bed more than a good thunderstorm.

My children though?  Not so much.  Now when those thunderstorms roll through, I am instantly awake, no matter how small the thunder, awaiting the sound of small feet on the stairs.  I doze fitfully, in a semi-conscious state, knowing that at any moment the sound of "Mama!!" will interrupt any sleep that I manage to get.  And so it was last night.

I heard the thunder start up and pretty soon after that, the children came downstairs.  They were doing that half run, half walk...where your terrified, but you don't want anyone to KNOW you're terrified.  And where do they head first?  MY SIDE OF THE BED.  Now, let me just mention here that Jamie sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door.  As in, as soon as you walk into our room, you would see his sleeping form.  But do the children EVER go to his side of the bed?  No.  They bypass him and head straight to me. 

This pattern is not just for thunderstorms, but also for any night wakings.  Thunderstorms, nightmares....and THROWING UP.  They will walk straight pass Jamie, AND THE BATHROOM, I might add, in order to stand in front of me.  I can't count the number of times I had to take my comforter in to be dry cleaned because someone ran straight to my side as if his sleeping, human form was NOT EVEN THERE, in order to say, "I've got to throw up!"  GO TO THE BATHROOM!!  I always yell.  And yet, they do not.  They come get me.  As if the sounds of retching would not jerk me out of ANY deep sleep I might be in.  I PROMISE...I will hear you!  I would just appreciate not having to get the carpet cleaner out JUST ONE TIME!  We actually run throw up drills at my house.  Yes, that's us.  Let's discuss our escape plan if ever we were to have a fire or some other tragedy...oh...and what do you do if you need to throw up??  They will say, "Run to the bathroom and call out for you!"  But what they really mean is, "Run PAST the bathroom, to your side of the bed so that we may throw up on the carpet and all over your Pottery Barn bedding!" 

Boy...THAT train just totally left the track it was on, didn't it?

So, anyway, back to the thunderstorms last night.  The children came in and I got them all settled in on pallets in our room.  I climbed back in bed, listened to the thunder crash and the lightening flash and enjoyed the security and warmth of my bed.  I snuggled down, this time knowing that it was not just me that was safe and secure, but all my little chicks too.  

Monday, July 13, 2009


I can't blog today because....

1.  It is so hot my fingers have swollen to a width that renders me incapable of using a keyboard.

2.  Michael Jackson died (did you hear about that???) and I'm overcome with grief.

3.  My children have taken over the house and will not grant me access to my computer.

4.  The barking dog is distracting me from deep and analytical prose.

5.  Uh...did I mention Michael Jackson?

In reality though, we've been gone and then here but occupied, and then gone and then here but occupied.  Now we are home again, but I have so much to write about that it will take me a while to get my thoughts organized.  And right now the children are beckoning me to swim.  Right now the pool water looks crystal blue and refreshing on this 100 degree day.  Right now Jay is singing at the top of his lungs to his i-pod.  Right now Annie is running around in her bathing suit and my sunglasses and flip flops.  Right now Jane is napping so it's a good time to swim.  Right now I can look at my calendar and see all that is looming in just a few weeks.  Right now I'm going to go enjoy my summer.