TGIF... or not

It's Friday! Fridays to me mean time to catch up with my adorable little cherubs after three long days of work. We usually play the morning away, or if we are feeling particularly ambitious, get ourselves to the pool. But, today, life had other plans in mind.

When I got home from work last night, Brennan was up on the couch in the playroom and refused to walk. He insisted his foot hurt and he wanted to be carried everywhere. We thought he had stubbed his toe and decided to wait it out until morning. Well, this morning, he collapsed in pain when he tried to take a few steps. Brennan collapsing and crying in pain?! Brennan is the kid that takes a blow to the head and then insists with his arms wide that he is okay. He is constantly bruised and bloodied from something or other, but he never really complains about it. So when he complains about something, we listen. We really listen.

We were at the doctor by 8:30 a.m. The doctor felt we needed x-rays. Brennan and I were off to the hospital for X-rays, while I feverishly tried to patch together childcare at home for Aidan and Griffin. Up until this point, Brennan handled the doctor, the probing and the unfamiliar like a champ. But, the x-rays sucked the big one.

After waiting for forty five minutes, the x-ray techs brought us into the x-ray room. One of the techs said she thought it would be better if I did not go in with Brennan. I told her that he would most likely become hysterical and that once he starts, he is difficult, if not impossible to calm down. Her reply? "We don't care if he cries as long as we get the pictures we need."

Oh. Well, that made me feel better about handing you my two year old. We went into the room and even with me next to him, Brennan just completely lost it. Screaming, flailing, crying - just general hysteria. He wouldn't lie on the table. He just kept twisting and turning to get to me as he screamed louder and louder. The tech turned to me and asked me to leave. I told her no. After a few more minutes, she snapped at me, "he will stop if you just get out of here."

So I left the room. I left my sweet little baby - a boy Chris and I call "pure joy" alone in a room with complete strangers when he was scared and helpless. I left him as he cried louder and louder. I left him.

I stood outside the exam room door for what felt like an eternity. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to him scream for me. "I wannnnnt my mommy," he cried, "please give me my mommy." "I need my mommy." And then he started to beg and hiccup, "Please I need to hug my mommy." It was endless and did not stop. The crying, the begging, the hysterics got louder and louder, until finally the x-rays were done.

When the tech opened the door, I grabbed Brennan and sat down with him in my arms. We rocked back and forth and both of us just cried. Brennan couldn't catch his breath and only started to giggle when he saw how hard I was crying right along with him. I whispered how much I loved him, how sorry I was, and how proud I was of him. I couldn't let him go.

After Brennan was dressed, the tech came back to us and apologized to me. She said she never should have said that they did not "care" if he cries. She also apologized because they thought he would calm down once I left, "but he didn't, " she said, "he just got worse." I appreciated her apology, but it also made me feel worse. It made me feel more guilty. Because instead of listening to a complete stranger, perhaps I should have trusted myself, my knowledge of my child and been more patient with him in an unfamiliar situation. I should have given him more time to adjust. If I had, he wouldn't have had to go through that alone, with me on the other side of a closed door.

We had to wait for the results of the x-rays back in the reception area. By this time, Brennan had already forgot about the whole thing. He was back to "pure joy", happy to play and cuddle with his Mom. I, however, could not stop the silent tears that still crept up on me from time and time again as I hugged him. I still could hear him screaming and crying for me.

The kicker? His x-rays are fine. He didn't break anything, but he still won't put weight on his foot.

On the drive home, I noticed nail marks on my upper arm. While I waited outside the exam room for Brennan, I had dug my nails so far into my arm that I left marks and bruises.

This was just an x-ray. A simple, silly x-ray.

All in the Family

Aidan’s folder at school was chock full of drawings, paintings and all sorts of goodies due to an end of the year clean up by his teachers. We looked through his drawings together last night. As we went through them, I realized almost every drawing depicted Aidan with his Daddy. Even the captions were all Daddy, all the time:

“Love Is… When My Daddy Gives Me Hugs.”

“I Giggle When… My Daddy Tickles Me.”

“My Daddy Pushes Me on the Swing.”

Um, Hello – where’s the mom in the equation? I teased Aidan just a little bit and asked if I got to be in any of his drawings. He patted my shoulder and said seriously, “Don’t worry Mom, you are always in my family pictures.”

Gee, thanks. 33 Hours of labor and all I get is an inclusion in the family drawings.

In other news, my quest for the most graceful woman on the planet continued yesterday. As I walked to the mailbox to fetch the mail after work, I fell face first while I carried Griffin. I managed to break my fall with my knees and keep Griffin upright and unharmed. I am sure I was quite the picture of beauty and grace as I was sprawled in the driveway, my skirt up over my head, my spanx on full on display for the neighborhood, and my legs bloodied and raw.

When Chris got home, he expressed some horror over the state of my legs and then asked, “Oh, And where’s the mail?” Grrr…. No I didn’t actually make it to the mailbox to retrieve the mail.

I tried to bandage up my legs with a few million band-aids, but none of them would stay. After reviewing the situation, Aidan determined I should forgo the plain band aids for the Batman band aids that would stay “much better.” And look wayyyy cooler too. Me and my Batman bandaged legs. I was stylin’.

Welcome to Daycare

Griffin handled his first drop off at daycare like a champ this morning. He went willingly to his new teacher and bestowed smiles all around. For a moment, I wasn’t quite sure he was even the same child I had known and loved for the past seven months. Smiling at strangers? Who are you little man?

I, however, was a mess. I cried the whole drive to the school, cried on the walk from the car to the classroom, cried during the drop off, and cried the whole drive to work. Now I have a headache. Big swollen, teary eyes and a huge ol’ headache.

I guess the teachers and the center's director were expecting my mommy messiness. Chris dropped off Aidan and Brennan before I went in with Griffin. Upon seeing Chris, the Director of the Center gave him a sympathetic smile and told him to "run for the hills" before I got there with Griffin. It's good to know I have a rep as the crazy crying mom. The Director shared this story with me as I cried with Griffin in his classroom. I tried to put up a half hearted defense and replied she couldn't have possibly guaranteed I would cry as I did at Griffin's first drop off. Her response? She chuckled, mildly snorted and said, "Don't you remember? You cried when I gave you the tour of the center before any of your kids actually attended school here."

Then one of the other teachers in Griffin's room chimed in with her own memory of me standing outside of Aidan's classroom for a good twenty minutes after his first drop off with tears streaming down my face.

Hmm, well - I guess I am a pretty good bet for the crying thing. But most importantly of all - Griffin did not cry today at drop off. Not a tear. I left with an image of his hesitant smile aimed at his teacher as she held him. That didn't keep me from crying though. Sigh.

He's a Pre-K Graduate!

Aidan has officially graduated from pre-kindergarten. Yes, it is all a little silly that we celebrate the graduation from preschool of all things, but that didn't stop me from crying buckets of tears. It didn't help that they started the ceremony with a picture slide show of all the kiddies in the class over the past year. When you add cute pictures and some sentimental song as a backdrop, I'm a goner. (Hell - I cry at Hallmark commercials! Even my own Nana had to make fun of me for once witnessing my full out tears at at every. single. commercial break as we enjoyed a special presentation of a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie.)

Anyway. The slide show was adorable. My favorite part was a beautiful picture of Aidan with his arms intertwined with his friend Ellie on cowboy day. They are sporting cowboy hats, bandanas and just look plain ol' cute. It resulted in a thunderous "ahhhh" from the crowd.

After the slide show, the kiddies walked down the aisle of the auditorium and entertained us with a few songs. Aidan scored the part of the grouper during some fish song about, well.. a grouper. He had to hold up a cardboard cut out of a fish anytime they sang the word grouper in the song. After the ceremony, anytime we would refer to Aidan's cut out as a fish, he would remind us, "It's a grouper, Mom, a grouper!"

After the ceremony, the school had a picnic for all the families. Hot dogs, face painting, balloon animals, clowns and cupcakes too - can it get any better than that?

For Aidan it can... Our graduation gift to him was his very own copy of the XBox 360 Lego Star Wars game. His shock rendered him momentarily speechless. And then pure joy and euphoria set in as he realized it was his game. To keep. For real.

A picture of Chris and me with our happy graduate.




I know it's just preschool. I do have some perspective (truly!). But it makes me sad because it is a sign of things to come. It has opened the door to my little baby getting on a big school bus and riding off to kindergarten. My sweet little baby, who is now a boy.

Welcome Little One...

Welcome to the world little Molly, third child of my beloved friends Diane and Scott. Molly, we all can't wait to meet you, to hug you, and to tell you all the fabulous stories we have to hold over your parents' heads.

Change

For the last two months of work, Griffin has been at home. We couldn’t get him into daycare until the end of June. While this caused some temporary insanity in trying to find and secure child care for two months, it also made my transition back to work easier. For the month of May, Griffin was loved and snuggled by my best friend Diane’s Mom, Celia. And for the month of June, Griffin was loved and cuddled by my mother in law. These two angels of women probably gave Griffin more love and attention than I could ever, possibly give. And this made me feel better about leaving him to go back to work.

But now things are about to change. Griffin starts daycare next week. For two days a week, he will be cared for in the Infant Room of Aidan and Brennan’s school. I knew I would have a tough time with this, but I didn’t realize how difficult it would be until I took Griffin for a visit to the Infant Room yesterday. I hate this. Just hate this.

Aidan and Brennan did not start daycare until they were old enough to enter the Toddler Programs. They think of daycare as school. They love to go to school. They love circle time and songs, books and arts n’ crafts, games and adventures. They never did the Infant Room. I never had to adjust to leaving an infant at a daycare.

The Infant Room seems more like daycare, rather than school. There is no circle time. Just rows of cribs and bouncy seats. And while I know the women who work in this room will care for Griffin, I am not sure they will love him. And isn’t that really all a baby needs? Love? To be held and cuddled? How can they do this in a group setting? Does every baby really get all the attention they need?

I have so much doubt, too many questions. I have very few answers. And I have a whole lot of guilt over this. Suffocating, overwhelming guilt.

C is for Cookie

Sometimes I feel as if everyone around me has gotten a memo to prepare them for the appropriate thing to do or say in a particular situation. I did not get this memo. I never get the memo.

I just had lunch with three other women. I ordered first. I ordered the hunk of grilled chicken sandwich on foccacia with lots of cheese and fries on the side. Everyone else? Salads. Salads, salads and more salad. This is what professional grown up women do at lunch. They eat salad. And then I always feel as if I am merely pretending to be a grown up and a professional, when in reality, I am the porky child hogging all the fries. Yes, I would like ketchup with that, thank you.

After lunch I return to the office, when one of the guys I work with walks down the hall munching on the most enormous chocolate chip cookie. Without missing a beat and with his mouth full of cookie, he points to the empty conference room strewn with lunch left over from a meeting and mumbles “cookies.”

I am much happier I got the cookie memo over the salad memo. Much, much happier.

Swimming, Missing and More Modeling

Aidan finished up his last swimming class on Monday. There are normally three or four other children in the class, but no one else could make it to this class. This left Aidan with a private lesson. On the way home from swimming, Chris asked Aidan if he liked having the class all to himself. Aidan told him yes, and said the best part was always getting to go first. Hmmm, I wish I had an idea of where Aidan inherited this impatient, Type A behavior.

While Aidan was at swimming with Chris, Brennan, Griffin and I entertained ourselves outside. Every two or three minutes, Brennan would interject, “Momma, where’s Aidan?”

“He’s at swimming class.”

“But I miss him,” Brennan would reply with his eyes wide and sad.

“I know, honey. He’ll be home soon.”

“But I loooove him.”

“He loves you too, B.”

“I neeeed Aidan. I need him, Momma.” And I thought I was going to have some adjustment when Aidan starts kindergarten in the fall. Brennan is going to be simply lost without his big brother by his side.

Sidenote – Aidan has already had a request for another hand modeling gig. Who knew my son would become a sought after hand model? I could not make this stuff up if I tried.

My Son, the Hand Model... Really!

It was Fisher Price day at our house. Brennan was asked to model for some new Fisher Price packaging. I said yes, but with some hesitation after our last modeling experience with Aidan. To put it mildly, Aidan's last shoot did not go all that well. I had to pack up all three kiddies and drive in the beeping minivan from hell. Griffin was in a mood and howled the whole time. And then I, of course, looked like death warmed over with hair that I am not quite sure that I even brushed that day. (Figures - the stylist on the shoot turned out to be a girl that I haven't seen since high school (isn't that always the way?)I can only imagine what she was thinking). After all that, Aidan refused to take any pictures and did so with some fine preschool melodrama and tears. Big, huge, meltdown in the waiting room. It was lots of fun.

Anyway - although Chris chuckled when I told him I was going to give it another try, I decided Brennan deserved his turn at the photo shoot thing. So off we went, all three of us, minus the mini van and this time I remembered to brush my hair. Surprisingly, Brennan did fantastic. He smiled, loved the chance to play with a new toy and seemed to just have fun.

As we were getting ready to leave, the stylist asked if Aidan would be interested in taking some shots. Aidan looked worried, but she said they only needed him for some hand pictures. Hand modeling! He didn't have to smile or look interested in the toy. He just needed to follow directions and hold a bunch of stuff. And of course, he loved it. He not only loved it, but he was good at it too. So good, they asked if they could have him back for some future hand modeling gigs. Heh. My son is a hand model.

Doctors, Monsters and Babies, Oh My...

Long day, yesterday. I worked. Picked up Aidan and Brennan at school. Ran home to drop off the boys to my mother in law and pick up Griffin for a doctor’s appointment. The doctor’s office called twice to ask us to come earlier than our scheduled appointment time of 6:15. So we did. But we got there, and after meeting with the nurse, waited almost an hour in that tiny little examination room. I was a little frustrated and Griffin on the edge of a full out meltdown, when our doctor came running down the hall and apologized for the wait. She inquired about my appointment time and I told her that I was told (twice!) to come early. Her entire face turned bright red and she stormed off to the front of the office. Apparently, the little teenage girl manning the reception desk decided it was too nice a day to stay at work so she took it upon herself to call parents and ask them to come earlier than their appointment times.

There is a special place in hell for this girl. Seriously. I look forward to the day she becomes a mother and has to wait somewhere for what appears to be eternity with a tired, fussy and scared baby that feels like a lead brick after pacing the floor with him in your arms for an hour. I wanted to strangle her with her hair extensions and tie them shut with her enormously large hoop earrings.

And what is up with me, my children, the bad luck with visits to medical professional’s offices and the weird loony people that work at these offices? Do we need to discuss the “mad dentist” again?

Big Sigh. Anyway – Griffin is well and healthy at six months. He is just under 21 pounds and is in the 90% for height and weight.

I returned home just in time to help Chris put the other two boys to bed. Brennan had other ideas though. He found an old pair of sunglasses, put them on upside down, and ran around yelling:

“I am a monstah. Roar! I am a monstah!” After a few more roars, he would stop, take off the sunglasses, look intently at you and ask, “Did I scare you? Did I?” And then off he would go to scare another member of our family.

The boys were all in bed by 8 pm and I had to start making a few million muffins as a favor to a family member. I finally finished up at 9:30 pm. And then my bestest friend Diane called from Oregon to say she is being induced tomorrow with her third baby, a little girl. We all just can’t wait to meet their newest little one. So many babies lately. (Have you seen gorgeous Miles?) It makes me feel like my baby is all grown up at six months.

Speaking of all grown up, Aidan’s preschool graduation is next week. I am taking it as a bad sign that I can not even READ the graduation announcement on his bulletin board at school without tears welling up in my eyes. This could be bad. Very, very bad. Can I be sedated for a preschool graduation?

So Long Sallie Mae...

I graduated from law school in May of 1997. Today, we paid off the rest of my student loans. TEN YEARS LATER. Ten whole years.

Just don’t ask me if it was worth it. Just. Don’t.

Missing Them...

I miss my babies today.

I miss Brennan’s obsession with his booboos and band-aids. He wore two band aids to school today. Thankfully, I am stocked with band-aids in a variety of flavors – including Cars, Batman, Dora and fun neon designs. This morning, Brennan traded in a green neon band-aid for two Cars band-aids.

I miss Griffin and his constant blowing of raspberries. After he blows a raspberry, he gets so excited that he squeals in delight.

I miss Aidan and his non-stop chattering about all things Star Wars. I blame his father for the Star Wars obsession. Ever since he rented Aidan the Star Wars Lego Game for our XBox, it has been non-stop Star Wars. Aidan even has the old school Star Wars figures to play with, thanks to my mother in law, who saved all of Chris’s old figurines. We have Storm Troopers and R2D2. We have Luke and C3PO. Thankfully, I can assist Aidan with the correct name for each figurine, thanks to a childhood as the neighborhood Princess Leia. (My mom even figured out how to turn my hair into the infamous Leia “do.”)

I miss Brennan’s hugs. He squeezes you as hard as he can while he grunts and groans from the exertion of it all. I also miss how he calls me “my momma.” And I always respond with, “my Brennan.”

I miss how Aidan will stop whatever he is doing and walk over to me to ask for a big hug. A big hug requires that I pick him up and hold him tight. It almost helps me forget he is growing into a boy, rather than my baby.

I miss how Griffin will turn his face into my neck to snuggle into me.

I miss their faces and their smiles. I just miss them.

Listen Up

On the way home after a morning of swimming, Brennan says to me, "Momma, I'm leakin'."

I reply, "No, honey. You're just wet from the pool. I'll change you into some dry clothes when we get home."

A few minutes go by.

Brennan: "Really, Momma, I'm leakin'."

Me: "You're fine, Brennan. Fine."

Brennan: "Noooo. I'm wet. ALL over. Wet."

Me: "Just a few minutes more Brenn."

We arrive home. As I am getting dry clothes together for the boys, Brennan runs up to me and yells:

"Now I am really leakin'! Leakin' ALL OVER. I peed Momma ALL OVER."

"Brennan, I am sure you are fine... You, " I stop as I go to change his swim diaper and discover that the poor child, is indeed, leaking urine all over the flippin' place.

"Oh, Brennan," I say, "I am so sorry. You really are leaking."

He looks at me with exasperation and says "I tol you Momma. I tol you!"

He told me. He did.

And then five hours later, Brennan decided to sneak my car keys out of my purse while we were at Aidan's swimming class at the Y. I didn't realize the keys were gone until we got to the car and were trying to leave. No keys in my purse. No keys in my pockets. No keys.

I mutter out loud to myself, "Where did my keys go?" as I rummage through my purse in desperation.

Brennan laughs and says "I took 'em."

Me: "What? You took my keys?"

"Oops. Sorry Momma."

Aidan concerned that his brother may be facing some trouble says to me, "I am sure it was an accident, right Brennan? An accident, right?"

We all trudge back into the Y and begin the search for the missing keys. Some time later, we finally found my car keys on the floor of the locker room.

My life is many things, but it is never dull.

Happiness

Happiness is... swinging in a hammock on a lazy Sunday morning with two of your little boys tucked under each of your arms.

It was a crazy busy weekend. I spent Friday morning at the bank finishing up house closing nonsense with three very patient, wonderful little boys. (I bribed them with a toy at Target later that morning.) We hosted Chris's mom's 60th birthday party on Saturday. I had a wedding shower Sunday afternoon. Sunday evening we headed to our friends' Christine and Dylan's for a leftover party. I felt like we barely stopped moving or preparing stuff to get ourselves someplace else.

But for a few minutes on Sunday morning, I was quiet and calm and did not have to be anywhere but where I was at that very moment, at home in our backyard. Aidan tucked himself under one of my arms and Brennan snuggled into the other. We swung back and forth on the hammock, all three of us, cuddled up as one. I made up some silly stories. We sang a few made up songs. It was peaceful and so very perfect.

Goodbye House

I hold in my hand the checks from the sale of our old house. We finally (FINALLY!) sold our home and closed yesterday. The checks arrived via overnight mail this morning. While there is some relief the deed is done, there is some sadness mixed in. We put so much of ourselves into that house. Every project, each room, every wall had our stamp on it. We painted, we sanded, we knocked out walls. We redid cabinetry and landscaping. We picked each color for every single room with great care and deliberation. I painted trim for months. Chris learned how to put in a bathroom sink and shower. I painted doors. Chris learned how to tile a kitchen floor. For years, we became home improvement junkies and put our heart and soul into creating a home.

We brought two of our babies home from the hospital to that home. We celebrated Chris's MBA graduation and two first birthdays. We laughed and cried in that home. I loved the swingset in the backyard, a hand me down from our neighbors across the street. I loved the lilac trees that bordered our property line and the abundant trees gracing our property. I loved our newly remodeled kitchen and beautiful tile. I loved to read in the family room or spend time watching the trees sway in the breeze. I loved the hardwood floors, the fireplace, and our huge living room. I loved the memories we made in our home.

That home is now someone elses. We left them a bottle of champagne to celebrate their new home and wished them many years of happy memories. I hope they have as many wonderful memories as we did. I hope that house becomes their home.

Goodbye Home.

For the Love of.... the Boobie?

There are a lot of benefits to being a breastfeeding mom to a bebe. Health benefits to the baby, of course. And the side benefit to me of the oh, so very wonderful burning of an extra 500 calories a day. (Unfortunately, those extra calories have not come off of my ass which, despite delivery six months ago, still looks four months pregnant.)

There is the sweetness of cuddling my adorable little boy after a long working day away. The wonder of feeling his little hand hold mine as he nurses. The stolen moments of just the two of us in the early morning hours.

But who knew that I could use the breastfeeding thing to get out of a fire drill and building evacuation? Hmmm, walk down 33 flights of stairs in a crowded, 80 plus degree stairwell in my uncomfortable fancy work shoes? Oh, sorry, I can’t possibly! I have to pump. Hee. This almost makes up for the male colleague who walked in on my pumping session my first week back at work. Almost.

A Cry for Help

I have already confessed that I am NOT the most together person. But sometimes, even I manage to surprise myself. Today, I wore my sweater inside out. To work. I wore my sweater inside out TO WORK. I didn't even notice. Nope. Thankfully, after an hour or so at the office, a kind co-worker noticed. When she told me, I didn’t believe her. And then I looked down and started to laugh so hard, I snorted. Who does this? Who can’t even manage to dress themselves appropriately in the morning? Who?

I was still giggling five minutes later. I need help.

We All Scream For...

The ice cream truck stalks our neighborhood. This was not a problem for us in years past because we told the boys the truck was a music truck. (A special shout out and thank you for this genius parenting technique courtesy of Diane and Scott.) Ice cream? What ice cream?

Sweet boys that they are, Aidan and Brennan loved the music truck and it’s tinny, repetitive, somewhat annoying tunes it played on its daily, often thrice daily trips around our streets. But at the end of last summer, Aidan’s dear friend Ellie filled him in on the secret of the music truck. He was astonished to discover that the music truck not only plays music, but it serves ice cream too. The jig is up.

We celebrated the beginning of summer last week with the boys’ first visit with the music and ice cream truck. Although Aidan informed me, “Mom, it’s not really an ice cream truck because it only serves popsicles.”

Hmm, the music/ice cream/popsicle truck perhaps?

A Little Problem

I have a reading problem. When the new Borders opened five minutes from my house, I quipped to my father in law that “it is almost like opening up a crack house next door to a crack addict.” My credit card would agree.

When I teased a friend because I discovered she knows her credit card number by heart, I admitted, “the only number I know by heart is my library card number.” Yes, sadly, now she can make even more fun of me.

I get antsy when I do not have a book to read. It does not matter if I may not have the time to actually read the book. I just have to know that a book is available just in case I can get to it. I also never travel anywhere without a book tucked into my bag. One of my greatest fears is being stuck somewhere, sometime without something to read. I even keep a book in my desk drawer at work.

When we go on vacation, I have to pack a book for each day of the trip. And one for each plane ride. But, if it’s a super long plane ride, then I have to pack two. Just in case.

It’s beyond an addiction. I need Bookaholic’s Anonymous. The first step is admitting you need help, right?

(To continue on with this random of nothingness, right now I am reading this and this. I just finished this, this and this. I have this and this waiting for me to read. I would also like to read this , this and this.)

Sweetness

I watched the boys play oustide yesterday for hours. The new kiddie pool is quite a hit and the boys entertained themselves with buckets and cups of water. Brennan decided to use his cups of water to make me some pretend coffee. He brought the coffee over to me and with flourish said, "Here you go Momma, coffee for you". I smiled at him, said thanks and just soaked him in for a moment. His little pot belly hanging over his bathing suit, his hair standing up in a million places and his face stained with grape juice and oreos.

"Brennan, Are you just the cutest little boy ever?" I asked.

He grinned at me and replied after a beat, "Yes, Momma, I am."

Yes, he truly is.

------------------------------------

The boys and I headed to our friends' house this morning for some pool and backyard fun. As I unloaded the multitude of plastic bags filled with the enormous amount of stuff it takes to bring three children anywhere, Aidan looks at me and asks, "Mom, Can I take those bags for you?"

"Um, sure," I respond as I hand Aidan the bags. "Thank you, Aidan. That's a huge help to Mommy."

"No problem," He says with a smile, "I know how hard it is for you to carry baby Griffin and all this stuff." He walks away before I can grab him and smother him with hugs and kisses. My sweet, sweet grown up of a boy.