Who cries at a parent/teacher conference?

Who does? Why, I do, of course. Shocker, I know.

I had Aidan's parent/teacher conference this morning. During the fifteen minute conference, I cried exactly three times. THREE! All good tears, I promise. Tears of pride and happiness over this beautiful child who happens to be my son. Aidan's teacher started the conference by telling me that they only wish they could clone a classroom of Aidans. (Tears began.) Later, she mentioned how sweet and kind he is to the other children. (More tears.) And finally, she told me what a special boy he is and how we (Chris and I) are doing a good job. (And tears yet again.) I need to believe that there are other parents who also cry during their conferences. Please, please, please do not let me be the only one.

The teacher also commented that Aidan loves to hang with the teachers during free time so he can tell them all about his life at home. Great, just what every mother wants to hear. I can only imagine the stuff that gets passed around this school.

There was also a sense of relief that all is well with Aidan and school. I was a little nervous about the whole parent/teacher conference thing and kept preparing myself for the worst. What if my kid was a terror? What if he was going to fail out of pre-K? Motherhood makes you loony. Thankfully, Aidan is doing just fine. Only fourteen or so more years of lower level education and parent teacher conferences left to survive. Whew. Let's hope I learn how to control the tears soon.

Who's Not Perfect?

There is a Laurie Berkner kiddie tune "I'm Not Perfect." Aidan was singing along with the song the other day when he stopped, looked confused for a moment and asked, "Who isn't perfect?"

I replied, "No one is perfect - that's what the song is about."

He looked confused for another second and then responded, "But I'm perfect."

When I laughed, he looked shocked and added, "But I am. I am PERFECT."

I guess I have no need to worry about Aidan's self esteem.

My Life As a Rock Star...

Well, a rock star that gets home to bed by 11 p.m that is...

I had quite the decadent weekend. Two nights out and about - childfree! Chris kept the kiddies happy, fed and in bed while I enjoyed dinner with my dinner club girlfriends on Friday night and attended the Sabres game on Saturday with my dear friend Carolyn. My husband is a saint and I feel refreshed and alive again. I had whole chunks of time without fetching anyone a juice box, nursing for hours on end or even wiping a runny nose. True mommy indulgence.

Payback may be a bitch though, huh? I owe Chris lots of time on the ski slopes for this one.

Two Months..

Griffin had his two month doctor's appointment today. All is well and healthy with our little beaner. He is a big boy - 14 1/2 pounds big - which explains why my arms ache at the end of the day.

At two months, our little guy is such a love. We are over the grumpy Griffin newborn phase and onto a happier, more content baby. He loves to coo and gurgle. When he smiles, his whole face lights up. I can't stop myself from just inhaling every little baby piece of him. When I change his diaper, I always stop to kiss his tiny little feet and toes. The other day, he actually lifted his bare baby feet up to me as if asking me to just give them a little snuggle. When I did, he gurgled and giggled while he lifted his tiny toes for more. As I kiss him, I always hope I remember each smile, each coo. I hope I remember his precious baby scent. I hope I remember the way he snuggles into my arm to catch a quick catnap or the way he rubs his little hand over mine while he nurses. It all goes so fast. I just hope I remember.

The Truth about Sugar Cereals...

Aidan has to bring an empty cereal box into school to make his valentine's day card mailbox. Is it wrong that I want to run out and buy a box of some organic whole wheat/whole grain/heart healthy/no sugar anywhere cereal for him to bring in instead of having him select from the buffet of sugar cereals in our pantry? I just know that my kid will be the only one with a lucky charms/cookie crisp/ cinnamon toast crunch mailbox. I JUST KNOW.

And then More Tears...

I so have a reputation as the big crying mommy at my boys' school.

When I picked Aidan up at school on Wednesday, he had a new book in his backpack all about Doggie Heaven - selected by his teacher Miss Laura from the local library. Aidan showed it to me and I cried (again) in his school hallway. I have always loved the teachers at this school, but this kindness was above and beyond anything ever expected by a parent.

Chris read the book to the boys at bedtime and we all loved the images of doggie heaven.

And Laughter

You think there are things that will never result in a smile or laughter. But children always manage to surprise you.

As part of our healing after losing Maya, we have spent a lot of time talking with Aidan about how we can remember Maya. Yesterday Aidan came up to me and announced that he had thought up a whole new way we can remember Maya. And then he held up a pile of black hair he had found on the floor.

In an excited tone, he continues: "See Mom? We can remember Maya through her hair that we have all over the floors and carpet. There's TONS of it!"

And in spite of myself, I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.

Maya

We put Maya to sleep today. She was in so much pain and just wasn't herself anymore. She cried and moaned all day long, ate very little and snapped at Brennan when he accidentally fell on her. It was something we had to do, but it is still something so very difficult and sad.

Maya was a part of our family. Before children, she was my constant companion. We took walks together every day - sometimes twice a day. When we lived in Connecticut, our favorite thing to do was wake up early and walk to the beach. Maya would run wild on the sand, chasing seagulls and jumping into the water to swim.

Maya helped me survive the summer when Chris had to go to Colorado for two months for a fantastic opportunity to work with IBM. She kept me company and helped me survive the loneliness.

While we miss her, the hardest part of losing Maya is dealing with the loss through the hearts of our children. Aidan just sobbed when Chris told him Maya had died and was in doggie heaven. Brennan asks several times a day, "Where'd my doggie go? Where's Maya?". The navigation of parenthood is never easy, but explaining death and loss to a two and four year old is almost impossible. But we try. We talk openly about the loss to both boys. We framed pictures of Aidan with Maya for his room. And we just listen to their questions and fears, hoping that we are giving the "right" answers at least part of the time.

We described doggie heaven as a place where Maya could run free chasing birds, barking to her heart's content, and eating all the treats she wanted. That's how we all will remember her.

Intervention

If you ever see me sporting a sweatshirt embroidered with "soccer mom" or some other similar saying, you officially have my permission to shred the sweatshirt and sit me down for a nice intervention.

I can handle the fact that I spend most of my life in sweatpants and t-shirts and that I have only worn make up once in the past seven weeks. It's okay that my hair currently resides permanently in a pony tail. I can even deal with the reality that a hot Friday night in our house is when Chris and I BOTH manage to stay awake for an entire DVD. I understand and accept that a glass and a half of wine is enough to make me drunk. But - if I ever, EVER believe that it is acceptable to break out a "soccer mom" sweatshirt, then it means that I have just totally given up. It's intervention time.

I just hope the poor mom from the Y today that was proudly wearing her "I'm a Soccer Mom" sweatshirt has some nice friends who will hand her a glass of wine and shred that damn sweatshirt. That's all I'm sayin.

Loyal Fans

My brother Travis's girlfriend hails from Michigan and to welcome Baby Griffin she gave us a Detroit Red Wings baby outfit. (GASP.) In response, we took the following photos of the boys:







Thanks to Grandma JoJo for keeping the boys in Sabres gear.

The Dementia of Motherhood

I have never been a completely "together" type of person. I long to be that person, but unfortunately, it's just not going to happen. Motherhood has thrown me into a whole new level of abject confusion - and with each child, I swear I lose a little more of my mind. Recent examples of my maternal dementia:

After a work related phone call last week, I ended the call with a high pitched mommy "bye bye."

I regularly leave the house with toothpaste smeared on the corners of my mouth. Upon discovering this the first time, I wasn't embarrased. Instead, I felt relief that I had actually remembered to brush my teeth that morning.

While nursing Griffin last week, I watched an episode of "Blue's Clues" for at least ten minutes while I was alone in the house. (Noggin - the incurable addiction for toddlers AND their parents.)

I left the boys downstairs watching said Noggin while I ran upstairs to get dressed for the day. While I was gone, Aidan found the remote and changed the channel. I came downstairs and found my four year old and two year old glued to an episode of "E True Hollywood Story." (I think it was on those cute kiddies from Dawson's Creek.)

On two separate occasions, I have dressed and allowed my children to sleep in footie pjs that had socks and/or underwear shoved into the footie. I just never noticed until the next day.

Aidan likes me to help him find words that rhyme. The other night he wanted a word that rhymed with "map". For the life of me, the only word I could think of was "crap."

Chris now has to remind me to turn around to look behind me when I am backing up the car. The first time he did this, I scoffed at him sarcastically and said "fine." But yesterday after I ran over two of the garbage cans, it finally dawned on me that I really DON'T look behind me when I am backing up. Really. Who knew? (Well, except for my very kind and understanding husband that is...)

I completely forgot Chris's work phone number two days ago. He has had the same number for four years. Four years. Huh.

I need to believe my mind will return someday. Someday, right?

The Little Things

Griffin is fully recovered and was cleared by his doctor at the end of last week. Now if I only can convince him that I can put him down for five minutes. It seems he got a little used to being carried around and sleeping on good ol' mom and dad - so now we may have a little problem. Ah well. It's a good problem.

Even better? Griffin is now smiling. Smiling and cooing and entertaining his brothers to no end. Aidan and Brennan are beyond delighted with this new discovery and compete to see who can get the bigger reaction out of our little guy. Baby smiles - such a little thing, but truly a beautiful thing.

Life

Life feels overwhelming lately. It started with Griffin contracting RSV, bronchitis and a double ear infection. We were at the doctor's everyday last week - just trying to keep the little guy from being admitted to Children's Hospital. He needed help breathing, has been on two different antibiotics, and had to have a shot of drugs to help with his infection. He doesn't feel well and it shows. He wants to be held all day and night by either Chris or me or he screams bloody murder.

Not only do I feel physically exhausted from caring for my sick newborn, but the guilt that he is sick is suffocating. Somehow, I blame myself for his sickness. It has to be my fault.

On Friday, Chris's cousin passed away. He was 26 years old and was a good, kind person. He had spent half his life battling cancer. While his passing meant the physical suffering ended for him, there are no words to express the grief of his family and friends. I do not know how his parents and sister will go on. I do not know where you find the strength to endure the loss of a child. And I can only question a world where a person so young, so kind and so loved, has to endure so much.

We had the wakes this weekend and the funeral today. They were all heartbreaking. Tears flooded my eyes as I watched my husband cry as he carried his cousin's casket to the beautiful sounds of "Saints Go Marching On".

In the midst of all of this, Chris took Maya, our black labrador, to the vet on Saturday for her annual check up. She has been limping a bit the last few weeks, but we had attributed this to arthritis. We were wrong. Our sweet beautiful dog has bone cancer.

Maya was our baby before we had children. We were insane with love for this dog. And now... this. I don't know how I am going to explain it to the boys, especially Aidan - who just adores her.

I am a positive person. I try to always find the good in every situation. And if I can't find the good, I try and at least find the humor. I'm not sure I can do either right now. I'm just not sure.

Grrrr...

The stomach virus may have spared our little beaner Griffin, but he is now down and out with bronchialitis (spelling? No idea - but then I am sleep deprived and just brain dead.) Poor guy is hacking up a lung. In a new mommy moment, I have had to learn how to use a nebulizer to help my poor child breathe so he can actually eat.

Just tired, so very tired. I want my life to be about the normal and mundane. Enough with the viruses and flus and bizarre medical contraptions. Sigh.

Merry Christmas to All..

I so wanted to post a few beautiful pictures of my boys in their adorable matching Christmas sweaters surrounded by their Santa bounty. But, our reality did not quite make it to a Kodak moment. Unless pictures of our family beaten down by a stomach virus could make it to next years Christmas card.

So - no Christmas sweaters. No Christmas Eve Italian feast at Nana's. Just mad rushes to keep the kiddies from vomiting all over the place. I even exhibited some amazing mommy prowess and caught Aidan's vomit in a blanket to keep it from the beautiful and NEW sectional. I sure wish I had some pictures of me nursing on Christmas Eve at 3 am as I quietly vomited in a bucket next to my chair, but sometimes you just miss all the good shots. Or even a video of Brennan desperately trying to tell me that he had pooped anywhere and everywhere - and then the expression on my face as I took in the icky stinky mess. (the gift that just keeps on giving... and giving.)

Thankfully, the virus spared Griffin. He is healthy and happy - and that is the best gift our family could hope for this year.

And so they sleep...

In what can only be described as a modern miracle of nature, all three of my boys are asleep SIMULTANEOUSLY. I had to quickly debate the merits of a nap versus a shower. The shower won. And it was the best shower ever. Truly. My nirvana of joint naps lasted 45 minutes until a lone cry pierced the silence. And back to reality we go...

The Proposal

I never know what Aidan will ask - but it is always interesting and will certainly either make me laugh or often, even cry. Take yesterday for example:

Aidan: "Mom, when two people get married, does that mean that they have to move away?"

Me: "Well, sure - when two people get married, they do usually move in together into a home of their own."

Aidan then starts to cry. Big fat tears welling up in those beautiful brown eyes. He then wails, "But I don't ever want to move away from you. Ever!"

Knowing full well that I am going to make life very difficult for the little hussy who tries to steal my sweet boy away from me, I give him a huge hug and respond, "Okay, well, you can just live with me forever."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

Aidan is quiet for a second and then responds, "I have an idea. How 'bout I marry you and then we can move away and get a house of our own?"

My sweet darling little boy.

Depends anyone?

Over the weekend, Chris stopped at the store for milk and juice. (Staples when you have young kiddies.) Out of sheer desperation, I asked him if he could also pick me up some (ahem) sanitary pads. (Poor guy, I know.) Out of credit to him, he didn't even blink an eye over the request.

I opened up the package he brought home that evening. And inside were the biggest pads I had ever seen in my whole life. They were Depends - undergarments for those with bladder incontinence. I laughed so hard my shoulders were shaking and tears were in my eyes. When I showed Chris what he responded: "Huh - I must have been quite a sight in line at the grocery store with a gallon of juice, a gallon of milk and my bladder control pads." Heh.

Happy Birthday Brennan!

Brennan turned two on Saturday. Two! Although if you ask him, he continues to insist that he was turning three.

Brennan is a child that brings a smile to people's faces merely by walking into a room. It's unexplainable - but true. He is our jokester - always trying to make you laugh and giggle over some antic. Yesterday, he walked around with three rubber bands on his head just to see the reaction he would get from his mom and Aidan. His personal favorite for inspiring laughter from all of us? Brennan's infamous naked somersaults after a bath.

He loves to sing and bust a move. He sings at full volume - belting out his ABCs or more recently, Jingle Bells or he hums quietly to himself as he hugs his blankey and enjoys a quiet moment with the beloved (and addicting) binky.

Brennan so enjoys his food. Before he could talk, he would just giggle over the sight of his next meal. Now he interrupts his eating to exclaim "yum" or "good" or more often "more." He loves everything from tacos to yogurt and of course his brother's culinary favorite "mac n' cheese." Brennan was the only 16 month old I knew that could identify his favorite restaurant "Moe's Southwest Grill" by sight when we drove past it in the car. He even cried if we drove past without stopping in for his favorite chicken burrito.

Brennan worships his older brother and will follow him anywhere and keep up with him in anyway possible. He loves to play tackle with daddy, read books, color and build, build, build!

He is a love. He loves to cuddle, give hugs and a wet smacking kiss that he has to rub in to make sure it lasts all day long.

Happy Birthday Brennan. It is such a joy to watch you grow and live each day.

And Baby Makes Five...

We are now a family of five. Griffin arrived on December 4, weighing 8 lbs, 4 oz., and promptly caused all of us to fall head over heels in love with this little bean of a baby. He has a full head of such beautiful dark hair and the brightest blue eyes. I just can't stop loving him up.

The boys are beside themselves. Aidan is in full big brother helper mode. Our first day home, Aidan ran up to me and demanded, "Where's our baby?" And then begged to hold him and confidently popped the binky back into Griffin's little mouth at the first sign of crankiness. Aidan also had some kind words for his mom after I arrived home. After sharing a nice good night hug, Aidan tells me, "Mom, you did such a good job pushing out our baby, I am going to let you borrow one special thing from my room for the whole night." I left his room with his treasured truck pillow and tears in my eyes.

Brennan is a little more unsure of this new addition. He liked the idea of the baby, but now that it is reality, our "momma's boy" isn't sure what to do with this interloper who demands his momma's attention. I think Brennnan takes comfort in the fact that he can out momma Griffin by having the ability to follow me into the bathroom, shower and wherever else I may find myself in the house. If I do dare to leave a room without announcing it to Brennan, he has taken to screaming "Momma!!!!" at full volume until I announce my whereabouts.

Our first day home was challenging. Griffin was a little put out by his new surroundings and shared his feelings at full volume ALL DAY LONG. It was a nonstop cry fest and caused me to have many moments of "Oh Dear Lord, What Have We DONE?" Even my normally unflappable mother in law appeared a tad stressed out when absolutely nothing could quiet the boy down. Well, nursing would quiet him down. But after six straight hours on the boob, I needed a break.

(Sidenote - add to this hysteria - a husband who has to dash off to work all day for a work emergency that had kept him up until all hours the night before and then we LOSE POWER (AGAIN!) that night. I was holding it together pretty well until the power went off. Then the hormonal breakdown was released in full force. Tears, blubbering, general hysteria, no power, no heat and a baby THAT WOULD NOT STOP CRYING unless I allowed him back onto the cracked, bleeding blistering boobies.)

But then day two home brought us an adjusted and happier Griffin. No tears. Regular nursing demands and his very first normal poopie! (I think it was the poopie that did it. I really do.) Since then, it has been a dream. Well, a dream in which I (and my children) all live in pjs everyday, never leave the house, and watch wayyyyyy too much Noggin. (I heart Noggin. I really do.)

And to top it off? He sleeps! Griffin sleeps! Not the hour newborn catnaps that all new moms must endure, but he nurses at 9 pm and is good until anywhere from 2:30 until 4! 4!!!!!!! Yes, I am still emotionally and physically exhausted, but I know a good thing - and that is a gift for a new mom.

Griffin has completed us as a family - and for that we are all truly blessed.