Rain, Rain Go Away and Don't Come Back til Fall

It has not been a nice few days here in the Northeast. The rain came at the end of the week and has lingered, dispensing a fine mist that is never ending. Our family is not happy about this freak weather system and is chomping at the bit to get back to our regularly scheduled summer activities. (I haven't hit a tennis ball since last Tuesday, people! I am going through a serious withdrawal.)

Instead of our normal weekend activity of playing at the pool with our buddies:

We have been forced to come up with a more creative way to entertain ourselves indoors. Forts composed of boxes and bubble packing? Rock on.

(Hmmm, the availability of all those boxes probably confirms I have an online shopping problem.)

If all else fails, we make crazy hats out of construction paper and dance like crazy. Desperate times call for desperate measures! Let's hope the sun comes back soon.

(Check out Griffin's face near the end of the video. I think he is trying to sing the bass line. As an added bonus, you can also hear Aidan and Brennan "negotiating" the merger of their box/bubble wrap spaceships/forts.)

Swim Team 2009

Opening practice for swim team 2009. This year, no tears and two kiddies in the pool. Brennan jumped right into the pool like a champ. He was a streamlining fool. Aidan was all over his strokes and did laps like a champ.

All this and a freak weather pattern that brought us rain and 55 degree weather.

You know they love it when they even want to get in the water in spite of their goose bumps.

Sing, Sing a Song

Aidan had a playdate with a boy from school. After he was dropped off at our house, Aidan's friend asked if they could play on the computer.

"Sure," I said and then asked, "What do you guys want to look up on the computer?"

"I want to go to YouTube and show Aidan some videos." The friend replied.

"Hmmm, what kind of videos?" I asked.

"Of my favorite song! It's called 'Love Game'" He said enthusiastically.

I smiled at him as I tried to piece this whole thing together. A song? Love Game? YouTube? And I thought having kids addicted to Star Wars was a challenge.

I opted to play it safe. I told the boys we could look up the song on itunes and play the clip so Aidan could hear it.

We did. The clip said something to the effect of someone dancing on someones disco stick. Oh boy. Aidan's friend enthusiastically rocked out to the clip.

After the clip ended, he looked at Aidan and asked, "Aidan, what's your favorite song?"

Aidan paused, thought about it for a second and answered, "Eye of the Tiger."

I had to leave the room to hide my laughter. He is so his father's son, that's all I have to say.

Go Directly to Jail

Aidan's schooling of the past two weeks has basically consisted of a daily field trip to here and there and everywhere. The teacher always requests a few parents to chaperone the class for each trip. My chaotic schedule, combined with work and the responsibilities of two other little kiddies (no siblings on field trips!), has made my chaperoning options limited. This is how I got stuck taking his class to the local Whoville police station instead of to the more exotic locales of the Buffalo Zoo or the Sweet Shoppe.

I mean, it's Whoville people. How much goes on at our police station anyway?

Not much apparently. They pretty much let the kids wander anywhere and everywhere, including locking them up in the empty jail cells. (I winked at the officer as he locked up the cell doors and asked if I could drop off my other two kiddies later on in the day for lock down. I don't think he knew if he should take me seriously or not. He gave me a small, nervous smile and backed quickly away from me.)




After lock down, the officer even gave us a tour of the local Whoville courtroom. It brought back many a memory for me, back in the day, fresh out of law school as a brand spankin' new assistant district attorney. As a new ADA, I spent my days (and nights!) holed up in many a town courtroom. I engaged in quite alot of sophisticated jurisprudence (jury trials for drunk driving charges), intertwined with excruciatingly long arraignments where my supervisor told me to think of the clanking of chains of the prisoners as mere "sleigh bells." I realized I wasn't cut out for the life of crime fighter when I won my first probation violation hearing, resulting in jail time for the defendant. I should have celebrated my victory, but instead I had to quickly excuse myself to the judge's chambers where I promptly burst into tears. The judge found me there still crying five minutes later. He wasn't quite sure what to do with me. At that moment, the only thing I was most sure of was that I was probably not cut out to be a career prosecutor.

(And then I sold out, selling my soul in return for a white collar job at a fancy law firm doing anything that did NOT involve going to court. Anything but that. Me, save the world? What? Ah, I was cute that way.)

But today, was simple. No soul searching or tears, just police sirens and cute jail, all to entertain a bunch of sweet first graders in the last few days of school before summer.

Let's Pretend

Griffin is a daddy's boy through and through. If given a choice between his mom or dad, it's all daddy all the time. After two boys who personify the "momma's boy" moniker, it is somewhat bewildering to me to have a child, my last sweet baby, who prefers his daddy's arms to mine.

Sometimes it makes me laugh. Other times it hurts just a bit.

Today, though, it made me laugh.

I took the boys to the pool for the morning. As I swam with Griffin, giving him rides on my back around and around the pool, he turned into my arms, gazed at me with his big blue-green eyes and asked that fateful question, "Where's my Daddy?"

"He's on the golf course G, but he'll meet us to swim a little bit later." I replied, smiling.

Griffin strikes a pout and says, "But I want to swim with him now Mommy."

"I know honey, and you can swim with him later."

He shakes his head back and forth as he considers my answer. After a moment, he looks at me with a huge grin and tells me, "I know! I am going to pretend you are my Daddy. So then I am swimming with my Daddy. Okay? Let's go Daddy! Swim!"

Hmmm, not a huge fan of this pretend game. I smile at Griffin and say sweetly, "What about your Mommy Griff? Don't you want to swim with your Mommy?"

He gives me a look that tells me he is not amused.

"No, Mommy isn't here. Mommy is at golf. Daddy is here to swim with me. Let's swim Daddy!"

Yes, so Daddy gets to golf with his buddies and still get all the credit for swim time at the pool while Mommy does all the work. Perhaps I should have taken up golfing instead of tennis.

Oh, Monday.

I skipped the trip to Wegmans over the weekend even though we needed it. We really, truly needed it. If they didn't serve food at the pool, we probably would have all starved. But combine the pool food with the spread at my cousin Allison's graduation party, and we were well fed even if the cupboards were bare.

This worked great for me and my tendency to procrastinate, right up until I sipped my first cup of Monday morning coffee and something just didn't taste right. Hmmm, two cups in and well, damn, if this doesn't taste like decaf.

Hell hath no fury like a mom denied her caffeine. (And a pox on the husband who tries to pass off the decaf in the coffee maker as real coffee before scurrying off to work.)

Wegmans immediately became a Monday morning priority. I rushed the kids through getting dressed. I ran upstairs to brush my teeth and realized that Chris had kindly used up all the toothpaste. I was left with the boys' special bubble game flavored paste for my teeth-brushing.

How any mouth can feel fresh after brushing with a fake bubble gum toothpaste is beyond me. It's pretty gross. Mouth gaggingly gross.

We make it out to Wegmans in record time. I negotiate a dispute over cart selection with the boys, finally settling them all into a mammoth cart with seats for all. I desperately push them over to the coffee bar, my eyes intent on the biggest iced coffee I can order. I place my order, search in my purse for my wallet to pay and find... no wallet.

I forgot my wallet. No money, no coffee. No caffeine, no happy mommy.

I get the kids out of the cart and hustle them back to the car. As we hustle, Griffin trips over a crack in the road and falls hard on his knee. The scraped knee proves too much for the little guy and he dissolves into a full blown crying tantrum in the middle of the parking lot. Brennan, always a sympathetic crier, decides to join in. They are both quite the spectacle.

A woman walking by us rolls her eyes at me before she quickly looks away. With a jolt, I realize I am part of the spectacle. I am that mother with those kids.

And I never even got to have my sweet, lovely, oh so needed iced coffee. Not a drop.

Field Day Friday and Swimming Saturday

Aidan's class celebrated field days on Friday. I took Brennan and Griffin to cheer him on while he raced. We giggled at the sight of the kids running relays that forced them to change into long sleeve shirts and laughed out loud at the sight of them sliding around the gym floor in their socks to find their shoes from a giant pile. It was very cute, but also exceptionally loud. After a half an hour Griffin turned to me, placed his hands over his ears and yelled, "I can't hear ANYTHING Mommy!"

It's amazing how loud forty kids can be in a confined space.

After naps, we had soccer that evening. It was a beautifully sunny night, perfect to sit and watch a few soccer games. Brennan made quite a few spectacular saves in goal and Aidan made a few of his breakaway goal specials.

Today, we have been lazy by the pool. It is our regular weekend activity of summer. We meet up with friends to watch our kids play by the pool. We enjoy lunch and easy conversation. It is one of my most favorite things of summer.

Tonight, Chris and I are headed out to see Tragically Hip in concert. We have first row seats to a sold out show. I almost feel like a rock star. Almost.

Summer Days

When I picture summer, I picture long lazy days full of nothing to do but enjoy the sunshine. Our reality is always the opposite. We hit Memorial Day, celebrate the opening weekend of summer, and quickly launch into a crazy schedule jam packed full of stuff. Stuff, stuff and MORE stuff.

It's all good. It's full of friends and family, the pool, soccer, golf and tennis, backyard barbecues and graduation parties, concerts and festivals. All wonderfully fun stuff. It's just alot.

I get anxious when I look at my calendar and see it full. And each year, I promise, I swear, that this year I will learn to gracefully decline a few things here and there to preserve a few long lazy days of summer. It's June and my record is not looking so good. But I have hope for July. Really.

My addition of a tennis addiction has only further exacerbated our full schedule. I am playing tennis at least three times a week, sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. This week, it's a lot more. It's five nights in a row of banging that little yellow ball across a court. Thankfully, most of the nights involve matches that start at 8:30 pm. This allows me to put the kids to bed before I indulge my inner tennis player. But it also means that I am putting in some long, late nights. I got home past 11 pm on Monday night and Tuesday night, after showering and unwinding from my match high, I went to bed past 1 am. I am tired. The type of tired that might allow me to doze at my desk.

On Tuesday, I forgot to set my alarm to get all of us up and out of the house to work and school. Chris is normally our morning guy, but he is traveling for work this week, leaving me to get through the morning rush alone. Aidan has to catch the bus at 7:25 am. At 7:20 am, Aidan woke me up from a very deep sleep.

"Mom? Mom? It's 7:20!" He said as he patted my back quietly.

I looked over and saw him already dressed in his school uniform. He had brushed his teeth and combed his hair. When he was sure I was awake, he smiled at me and said, "Brennan is still sleeping. Griffin is in his crib awake. Do you want me to go read to Griffin while you get up?"

I could have eaten that child whole such was my love for him in that moment.

We all made it up and out of the house in record time. I count it as a minor success that Aidan woke me up at 7 am this morning. I just might survive the mornings this week after all. At least until Chris gets home.

My Monkey

Last week, the boys were outside playing in the backyard while I cleaned up the kitchen. After a few minutes, I glanced out the back window and noticed Brennan was missing.

I walked to the back door and yelled to Aidan, "Aidan! Where's Brennan?"

Aidan looked around and replied, "I don't know."

I felt a slight panic as I yelled, "Brennan?! Brennan!"

Then I heard a little giggle, followed by a rustling in one of our large pine trees.

"I'm up here Momma! Look!"

Brennan had climbed a tree. Not only had he just climbed up a tree, but he climbed pretty high up that tree.

Once Brennan discovered his climbing talent, there was no stopping him. He climbed it again and again, in spite of the sharp pine needles, bug bites and scratches on his skin. I have lost count of the number of times I have glanced up and found Brennan sitting high up in one of the trees in our backyard.

Brennan is our little monkey and he is quite proud of his climbing prowess. Neither of his brothers will attempt the feat. I think he likes it best that way.

Summer Lovin'

The pool is officially open, and it is 70 plus degrees and sunny. I could not have conjured up a more perfect Memorial Day weekend if I tried. We swam and spent much time lounging by the pool. We enjoyed time with family and friends. The boys had ice cream three days in a row. Chris golfed to his heart's content in a tournament and I even managed to sneak in a few hours of tennis.

We were back to reality this morning, sleepily trying to get out of the house on time in spite of the disorganized chaos left in the wake of a busy summer lovin' type of weekend.

It was just the first weekend of the summer, with many more to come. We can't wait to soak up every last bit.

Cousins

The boys love their cousins and treat them like rock stars. We are fortunate to live on the same street with most of our family which allows the boys to soak up their cousins as much as possible.

This accessibility extends to the swimming pool. There has been many a time one of our cousins has arrived for some quality time at the pool with their friends, only to be tackled or hugged to death by my boys.

Thankfully, the cousins seem to like it just as much as the boys do.

Summertime and the Livin' is Easy

Summer is on its way. The sun is shining. The sky is perfectly blue. The breezes are warm and comforting. And in two days, the pool opens officially for the season.

Today was a beautiful, warm day. I was a little grumpy to be stuck at work, inside, while the sun shone so brightly. But I comforted myself with forgoing our traditional dinner plans and instead picked up a pizza on the way home from work. The boys and I had an impromptu picnic outside, eating dinner on paper plates as we soaked up the early evening breeze. I shed my work shoes for flip flops and got comfortable on the patio. I giggled as I watched Aidan push Griffin on the swing. I was amazed at my monkey child Brennan who has decided his new favorite thing is to climb trees in our backyard. The boys ran and played until much past their bedtime. But it was good - all very good.

We were all happy and relaxed. Summer feels good on our family.

Soccer Boys

Spring soccer, game on! As I may have mentioned, soccer in whoville is on the crazy side. Anyone and everyone with a child can be found at the huge soccer fields on Friday night in whoville. They stagger the times for games and practices by age group and it creates such a traffic logjam that the local police is required to direct traffic for most of the evening.

You have to see it to believe it.

This year, Chris volunteered to be the assistant coach for Aidan's team with our friend Dylan as coach. This allowed us to sneak in Brennan for some playing time even though he is technically under the age limit. Brennan is in love with soccer. He practices his drills at home, talks about it incessantly and asks everyday, multiple times, when he can go to soccer.

There is also something really sweet about seeing both Aidan and Brennan on the same team, playing together. They overwhelm me with their cuteness in their matching uniforms and big smiles. As teammates, however, they have very different soccer styles. Aidan is fast and often the first to get to the ball, but he prefers not to fight for the ball and will willingly surrender it to another player. Aidan's goals tend to be breakaways without challenges from the other team.

Brennan, on the other hand, takes soccer as more of a contact sport than is required. I had to remind him several times this past Friday that the kids with the red shirts were his own teammates and therefore, he didn't need to tackle, push or kick them out of the way to get to the ball. Brennan has yet to make a goal, but he did knock down half of his own team attempting to get the ball going in the right direction.

They may approach soccer differently, but for both boys - it's pure fun. I have to admit it is just as much fun for me to cheer them on from the sidelines.

Icky, Icky Boys

This is a conversation I really wish I had NOT overheard amongst my boys. (Please note I have purposefully omitted the names of the involved parties in order to protect the innocent.)

Boy 1: (whispers softly to his brother) "I just stuck my finger in my ear and licked it. It tasted REALLY gross!"

Boy 2: (whispers back softly) "Oh yeah?"

Boy 1: "Yeah! Gross!"

Boy 2 sits in quiet contemplation for a moment, leans over to Boy 1 and whispers, "I've eaten my boogers before and that was pretty gross too."

Boy 1: "Wow."

Boys. Icky, icky, little boys.

Twisting the Knife

Griffin and I are rocking in his room before bed, snuggling close. I rub his back while he rests his head against my shoulder, tucked into my neck. We rock back and forth in silence for a few minutes.

Griffin slowly lifts his head, catches my eye and says softly, "I'm happy now Mommy."

"You are?" I reply smiling, "I like when you're happy G."

"I am. Happy!" He smiles sadly and continues, "I was sad when you were gone. Just sad."

Ouch. He gave me a nice heaping dose of mommy guilt with that little dig.

The boys definitely have a tough time whenever I travel, which truly isn't often. I could probably count the number of times I have been away on my fingers. It seemed this time Griffin seemed to have the worst time adjusting to my absence. I returned to a needier and much more emotional Griffin. He clutched my legs when I had to leave to go to work and sobbed, begging me "not to go." He also told my mom to "go home" when she was at our house, fearful that she was there to babysit him. He needs to know where I am in the house at all times or he gets really agitated.

But he's happy now. Happy.

Griffin Discovers He May Have a Future with the WWF

It's all crazy, all the time.

Girlfriends

There are many things in my life for which I am grateful. At the top of the list is my girlfriends. I have had the honor of sharing my life with some truly amazing women. The type of women who are accomplished and beautiful and smart, but manage to also be kind and supportive and generous. My friends always chose to see the best in me and I, in turn, in them. The power of a good female friendship is pretty remarkable.

This weekend I escaped to the beach with three very dear friends - Diane, Amy and Christine. I have been friends with Diane and Amy for over half my life. We are, as many have commented over the years, big complimentors. We spend most of our time together telling each other how wonderful each other are or how beautiful. Your ego gets quite a boost from some time with these women.

Six years ago, Amy, Diane and I were gabbing in the backyard watching the setting sun at Diane's home in Portland, Oregon. Joining us was a new friend of Diane's, a neighbor - who was meeting us for the first time. After fifteen minutes of hearing us talk to each other ("You are so beautiful tonight! I love that shirt on you! You are so smart! I love how you told that story! You amaze me with your accomplishments! etc, etc."), she interrupted us with wide eyes and remarked, "I'm sorry, but do you guys always talk to each other like this?"

We asked her, dumbfounded, "Like what?"

"Like this!" She gestured wildly as she tried to explain, "I feel like I'm in the middle of a freakin' Oprah Winfrey show or something. I've never heard anything like this in my life!"

We laughed, shrugged our shoulders and told her, without apology, that yes, this is how we talk to each other. We always have. We always will. We are lucky.

This weekend, joined by Christine, the big ego boost continued. When we were not saying nice things to each other, we told stories that made us laugh so hard we cried. We stayed up until midnight each night talking. We soaked up the beach, lounged in the pool and enjoyed margaritas as we watched the setting sun. I spent most of each day and night interjecting into each conversation with the phrase, "I am so happy."

It was four days that was, simply, a gift. I have always heard that your female friends act as a mirror to your own self. If that is true, I probably have a better, a kinder, a prettier and a way funnier mirror than I deserve.

Brennan: On Mommy 2009

Brennan's class created their requisite Mommy posters to decorate the walls of the school for Mother's Day. Below a drawing of a giant flower and a green stick figure with one piece of blue hair, Brennan answered the following to his teacher's questions:

My Mom's Name Is.... "Mommy"

My Mom's Favorite Thing To Do Is.... "Drive to Wegmans." (He must sense my excitement over strolling the artisan bread and bakery aisle. My focaccia and Nonna's fougasse is calling me! When I laughed over this answer, the teacher confided that one of the other kiddies wrote their Mom's favorite thing to do was... sleep. Love it.)

When I Come To School My Mom... "Goes to Work."

I Love My Mom Because... "She gives me surprises every night." (I have no idea on this one. Surprises? Not a clue.)

First Crush

Brennan has a crush. It's the first crush for our group of boys. Aidan has never spared a girl a second glance, despite always requiring a quick clothes change before his buddy Ellie comes over to play. But, Brennan has spared a second glance and even a third. He's got it. And he's got it bad.

Her name is Amelia, Lia for short. She is very cute - blonde ringlet hair, big blue eyes. She's a doll and she has stolen the heart of my second born.

It started with Brennan talking about her quite a lot around the house. He started requesting play dates with Lia in between his prolonged discussions on her virtues. After a few weeks of much discussion on the life of Lia, Brennan boldly announced last week that he "has a girlfriend!" And then he looked at me squarely and said, "And her name is Lia, Mom."

"I figured as much Brennan. Lia is a nice friend to have." I told him while my heart broke a little.

Today I picked him up from school. He ran into my arms to give me a hug. After he left my arms, he quickly ran over to Lia to tease her about something and tug at her hair. Brennan quickly caught my eye as he stood behind Lia and mouthed to me, "This is LIA!" He then smiled a sheepish smile and ran to grab his backpack.

Lia. Tonight, I learned that Lia is "very tall." She is also "very funny." And she knows how to "dive in deep water. Like deep, deep water mommy. Deep!" I also promised to set up a swimming play date over the summer with master swimmer Lia.

I should have known Brennan would be the first to fall head first into his first crush. I know I should have known, but it's bittersweet just the same.

Naked Dance

I recently told our neighbor across the street, a mother to two girls the same age as Aidan and Brennan, that if she ever wanted to teach her children the male anatomy she simply had to direct her girls to glance out their windows at 7 pm to watch my boys prepare for bath time. If it's bath time, then my boys are dancing naked.

There is no shyness in the naked dance. Oh no, no shyness indeed. It's full out booty wiggling, jumping and twirling all while screaming with glee from the sheer nakedness. Boys like their bodies. Every single inch of their bodies. (Okay, some parts get a little more (ahem) love than others.)

The front of our house has many a window open to our neighbors across the street. The hallway upstairs which is home to the naked dance is wide open to the windows - meaning that the neighbors get quite a show if they happen to be looking out the window towards our humble abode. For all we know, the naked dance gets many a standing ovation from our neighborhood. It's quite a dance.

I can handle the windows and the eyewitnesses to my boys' special brand of crazy. But tonight I was oh so grateful that the eyewitnesses could not also hear my children sing with gusto as they danced naked. Because tonight they created a whole new song, courtesy of the creative genius of Brennan. It's a sweet little ditty called, "I Love My Penis."

As far as I can tell it goes something like, "I love my penis. My penis! I have a smelly butt. Do you want to smell my butt. My butt is slimy! I love my penis!"

After three or four rounds of Brennan singing as he danced, Aidan and Griffin caught on and joined him on the chorus.

It was quite a sight. The naked dance meeting the penis song. If only I had thought to grab video.

Beach

Ah, vacation. Lovely, wonderful vacation. The beach was terrific, as beautiful as always.

The night before our vacation starts the same as every other. I run around like a lunatic, swearing, stressed out beyond belief attempting to pack for myself and three children. I pack up backpacks for carry on filled with toys, books, snacks and treats. I make lists, check off lists, and make new lists. I lay out everyone's clothes for the plane and pack a carry with everyone's essentials just in case. I download kiddie shows for my ipod just in case of emergency. I charge up a D.S. and check batteries in the leapster and camera. I get grumpy at the work and wonder why we even bother to go on vacation.

Chris laughs at me, tells me he has no idea what I am so worked up about, and packs a small bag for himself in under two minutes.

In my next life, I am coming back as the Dad.

After all the bags are packed, including Chris's, I wait until I am all alone with the luggage destined for check in and I start to stash my secret library. Books, books and more books are tucked into nooks, crannies and pockets - inside of everyone's stuff, including mine.

This works every year and satisfies my small (ahem) addiction to reading on vacation and well, all the time. But this year, the boys' collective bag was overweight. Chris raised eyebrows at me as I sheepishly had to extract no less than four hard cover books from the boys' bag while we checked our luggage.

The jig is up!

We arrived in Florida relatively unscathed. The direct flight was dreamy and oh, so wonderfully quick. We spent our days in the sun soaking up every last bit of vacation. The mornings were at the beach, digging or building sand castles in between hopping waves. After lunch, Griffin went down for a nap and I took Aidan and Brennan to the pool.

It was glorious.

At the end of each day, the boys were exhausted from all the sun, all the activity and all the fun. We all managed to sleep well, even with us tucked into one bedroom.

We all loved the time with my grandparents. Griffin dazzled my grandmother with plenty of hugs and smiles. Aidan and Brennan loved talking up my grandfather on anything and everything. We even fit in a trip to the local aquarium where the boys were over the moon touching sting rays and watching sharks, manatees and dolphins swim.

I have vacationed at the same spot for over ten years. I always question if we should mix it up a bit and pick someplace new. But then we get there and it is perfection. All of it. I start my day drinking my coffee watching the surf and end my day gazing at the setting sun. There is no other place I would rather be.

Balance

On most days of my life as a working mom, I work for balance. The part time gig helps me achieve a somewhat delicate balance tempered with some guilt, a little frustration, and often a bit of stress. But it's balance. I have an intellectually stimulating job I enjoy (most of the time). I get more time with my children on my three day a week schedule than if I worked the slave hours demanded of a full time lawyer. All in all, I feel like my life has achieved a successful compromise that works for me as a person and as a mom.

The balance doesn't work when one part of the compromise pushes back. On Friday, work pushed back into my family time. I had a client with an emergency, a serious holy crap this is going to cost them a ton of money emergency, who needed me on a 10 am conference call with 5 other people. I found out about the mandatory call at 8 am. I had no child care and I was at home with three children. There are clients with whom I can swing the whole "please ignore my kiddies screaming in the background thing" during our work call, but this was not one of those clients. This was a client who could not even know I HAD any children, let alone that I was about to discuss very important things while also caring for said children.

Ten minutes before the call, I turned on a movie for the boys, gave them popcorn and a bag of marshmallows as a bribe, and begged them to stay in the playroom for the next fifteen minutes. The fear in my eyes was enough to get them all to agree with me. I ran and hid in the laundry room for the call.

The call went a little longer than fifteen minutes. After forty-five minutes, I could hear Griffin getting antsy in the playroom. When his bellows for me turned into screaming wails and he discovered my hiding place in the laundry room, I did the only thing I could think of - I hung up the phone as fast as I could. I placated the kids quickly, bribed Griffin with a juice box (grape juice, hello stained carpet!) and ran upstairs to my closet to take part two of the call. After reconnecting, I took a deep breath and calmly told the client that my cell phone had inadvertently dropped the call.

I thought the worst was over when the call ended. I took the kids outside to play and promised to make the morning up to them. When I checked my work email later that day, I got an email requesting that I travel to New York City for meetings on Monday. Then I got a call from one of the higher ups at my firm regarding some issues with another client. I was on my third conference call of the day when Brennan slipped off the slide and wailed in my arms as I held on to the phone with my shoulder and head.

It was insanity. It was beyond stressful. And it made me ready to say fuck it all, I am done.

There are times when you try to please everyone and you end up pleasing no one. This is how I feel when my work-life balance gets out of whack. There is too much need and not enough of me to fill the need - from work or home.

I had a nice old fashioned meltdown later that night. I gave Chris enough of a scare that he told me I was off duty on Saturday - from work and home. He got up with the kids in the morning so I could sleep in (until 8:30 - that's almost the middle of the day in our house!). He took the kids out of the house on a field trip to Home Depot to give me some quiet time at home. He even took the kids out to dinner while I met some girlfriends for too much Italian food and good red wine.

I desperately needed that little break. It convinced me I have the strength to get back into my life and regain some of my hard won balance. And if that doesn't work, I leave for a week long vacation on Tuesday. Balance seems easier with a little sand between your toes.

Keeping It Real

Brennan and I were walking down the hall at his school when a man and a little boy approached. As they got close to us, Brennan waved, smiled brightly and said to me, "Mom, this is my friend Owen!"

I smiled at Owen and said hello to him and his Dad.

We were just about past them in the hall when Brennan continued in his loud preschooler voice, "My friend Owen likes to pee in his pants!"

There is no such thing as a filter to a preschooler. None.

All Good Things

This weekend was everything good. My brothers were home for the weekend. I always look forward to spending time with them and seeing them visit with the boys, but it never feels like we get enough time. This weekend we got the perfect amount of time. Time spent together just hanging out and enjoying each other's company.

We began our festivities with a little doubles tennis - Chris and I versus Travis and Seth. I only wish someone had filmed our match. Seth dove for each ball - often ending up lying across the court battered and bruised. I had never seen anyone with open bleeding sores after a short tennis match. It wasn't enough that Seth dove for every ball. He demanded Travis follow suit and screamed "dive!" at full volume anytime the ball got close to Travis.

It was a miracle Chris or I managed to hit the ball at all considering how hard we were laughing at the antics on the other side of the net. But, oh we hit it. We so hit it. And we cleaned up the court with my competitive, athletic brothers. I see many a rematch in our future.

After tennis, Seth and Travis spent most of the day at our house. We didn't do much of anything really, but relax and play much wii. Our cousin Liam joined us and it felt like a little party all day long. Seth and Travis left for all of an hour to come back for dinner, Buffalo style: pizza, chicken wings and chicken finger subs. The amount of food consumed was awe inspiring.

The next day, Easter began nice and early with the boys clamoring to head downstairs and begin the basket hunt. The big basket filler this year was Legos. Legos, legos and more legos. The boys immediately set to work, building to their hearts' content with Chris's patient assistance. (I suck at following lego building instructions so not a soul asked me for any help.)

My brothers and Grandma Jo Jo stopped over for Easter breakfast. We started the fun with an Easter egg hunt with eggs cleverly hidden outside in the quite chilly morning air by Seth, Trav and Liam. The boys loved the hunt and loved the candy in the eggs even more.

It was a perfect weekend, full of family and relaxing fun. I had tears in my eyes when I said goodbye to the NYC crew as they headed back to real life, but I was grateful for a weekend full of all good things with people I love.

Paralyzed

We leave for Florida in a week and a half. We are all counting down the days, excited for our time at the beach. But beneath that excitement, I am a little stressed. I have so much to do before we go. So much to do, in fact, that I am spending too much time paralyzed by indecision as to what I actually should be doing in order to get some things done. (How's that for my special brand of crazy, huh?)

This weekend is full of holiday gatherings and time with family. I host both Easter brunch with my family and Easter dinner with Chris's family. On Monday, I will watch three of my friends' children as part of our school break co-op. I have work to do, crazy busy full of stressful mean clients, work to do during the week. Next weekend is turning into a logistical nightmare of balancing family schedules.

I have to pack. For me and three children. I need to pack carry ons that contain fun, engaged activities for the kids. And I am pretty sure I need to squeeze in a shopping trip since Aidan owns no summer clothes that actually fit him. (But yet, I forget this every time I shop and instead keep buying oh, so cute, oh so adorable baby boy clothes for Griffin. Griffin who owns more clothes than any little boy really should.)

So. I am stressed. It's silly stress. All good stuff. But it's the sort of stress that keeps to do lists running constantly in my head, and convinces me to waste precious minutes playing around on facebook rather than baking for our easter festivities. I am officially paralyzed by my to-do list.

The beach will be free of to do lists. The beach will mean nothing but sun, the kids digging in endless sand and lots of quality family time. If I can only get myself through my temporary paralysis of panic, the beach will be here before we know it.

Independence

On Saturday night, we attended a party to celebrate my Aunt Nancy's 50th birthday. It was the normal chaotic scene of any family function. Their house was bursting at the seams with family and friends with kids running every which way.

Aidan and Brennan scattered immediately upon shedding their coats. They joined the gang of kids playing basketball in the foyer or ping pong and rock band in the basement. They checked in with me every now and again, but for the most part they were off on their own.

I expected Griffin to stick close to me. He is two. The house was loud and many of the people unfamiliar. At two, Aidan and Brennan would have clung to my legs or that of a willing cousin for most of the festivities.

But, Griffin always manages to surprise me. I lost sight of him after a few minutes. I found him ten minutes later in the living room. He was sitting on a couch, holding a bottle of water and swaying back and forth to the music as random people jammed on a piano and two guitars. He was content to listen and just hang out. Griffin's head would bob back and forth with the beat of whatever song was playing and he would clap at the end of the song. He knew not one of the people in that room, but he couldn't have cared less.

I saw peeks of him throughout the night. He checked in with me every so often, but not any more than his older brothers. I saw him grab a plate from the buffet and help himself to some fruit. I saw him play basketball and chat with friends of my family. He strutted through the house as if he owned it. If he needed anything, he grabbed whatever person was closest and asked for help.

He was confident and oh, so independent. I am not convinced this fearless toddler was ever a baby.

A Date Day

Chris's parents asked us if they could take the kids out to lunch and shopping today. The thought of just us, alone in the house, on a random weekend day was almost overwhelming. You seriously do not know how to appreciate the quiet of an empty house until after you have children. Silence is beautiful. Truly.

I dragged Chris out to play tennis. We enjoyed some quiet time at home. We even managed to get out for a quiet lunch. It was a lovely day. After we returned home from lunch, we walked into the empty house and I said, "Do you hear that? Do you?"

Chris gave me a strange look and said, "Hear what?"

I smiled and replied, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Ah, the lure of a quiet house. It's a simple pleasure.

Snuggling

A few weeks ago, I let the boys climb into my bed to watch a show before bedtime. I ran downstairs for a minute and returned to my room to find this:

Griffin watched the whole show from Aidan's lap - both of them content to be snuggled up next to each other.

Recapping the Weekend

Our weekend was supposed to be pretty low key, but surprisingly seemed to get busier as it progressed.

On Friday, Chris had a night out with the boys golfing, eating heaps of chicken wings and watching multiple sporting events. I admit to being a little too eager to push him out of the house for a girl's night home alone. It had nothing at all to do with the dvd my cousin had dropped off for me earlier in the week. Nothing at all to do with that little dvd known as Twilight. Uh huh.

I enjoyed the quiet time soaking up unrequited love, vampires and teenage angst. Lovely, perfect night home alone.

Saturday, I headed off to play tennis while Chris took the boys for haircuts. Chris returned with a message for me from his barber. I was warned to drop the scissors and step away from the boys' hair. I have a tendency to believe that I possess skills that would allow me to do a quick trim. This misguided notion has left many of my children with crooked bangs and little bald spots. But, yet - I keep doing it. It's a disease. I can never meet Chris's barber in person. There may be bloodshed.

We spent the afternoon outside, soaking up the sun. It has been a beautiful few weeks here in Buffalo. Sun and sixty degrees suggest spring is in the air. Brennan took many a spin on Aidan's bike. Aidan attempted tricks on his skateboard. Griffin rode his much loved Star Wars scooter. We even grilled hot dogs and hamburgers in celebration of the warm temperatures.

We continued our weekend Sunday with a little more tennis (for me) and a matinee of the 3D version of Monsters vs. Aliens. The boys were in awe of the special effects, loved the glasses and ate several pounds of popcorn. We headed home after the movie for dinner with Grandma Jo Jo, my brother Seth and sister in law Tennille.

The boys wrestled Seth to the ground, challenged him in Wii and then had us all laughing til tears streamed down our faces because of their antics in a dance off. You haven't lived until you have seen Griffin bust a move. (Or endured Brennan's dance moves under his stage name "Gas Man.") The boys loved up their Uncle Seth as much as possible, only letting him leave when he reminded them he would be home in two weeks to visit at Easter.

There was nothing extraordinary about our weekend, but it was a perfect weekend nonetheless.

Vocab Hurts

Aidan has weekly vocabulary words to study at home. In addition to learning the words, he is required to write a sentence using each word in his take home journal. He had a hard time with this assignment at first and begged for help in creating sentences.

In response, I told him to take experiences or people from his life and figure out a way to use his vocab words into sentences that relate to those things. If that failed, try some imagination!

It seemed to work. For a while, Brennan was quite the star of Aidan's sentences.

"My brother Brennan can tell funny jokes."

"I can jump higher than my brother Brennan."

"My brother Brennan likes to make me laugh."

And then I made a surprise appearance in vocab land.

"My mom looks very pretty in dresses."

I would be lying if I didn't admit I was thrilled at my first appearance in his homework.

It quickly lost its luster with this doozy:

"My mom always eats all the donuts."

Hmmmm, not so pleased with that sentence and the assumptions the teacher will make after correcting that doozy. When I asked Aidan about that sentence and the fact, that yes, I have no idea what donuts he is talking about, he replied, "Well mom, you told me to use my imagination."

Great. Doesn't every mother want to be known as a donut hog?

P.S. Can I just add that the donut sentence snuck in on a night when Chris was in charge of reviewing Aidan's work prior to handing it in to school? I feel an urge for some vocab sentences starring the Dad.

Remembering the Miracle

I always knew I wanted to have children. I looked forward to being a mother and creating a family. I went so far as to have it planned out. I would have my first child at 28, and three more would follow shortly after that. It was all part of my plan. (Yes, the plan involved four children. I was a tad bit delusional back in the pre-kiddie days.)

We spend so much of our youth being fearful of becoming pregnant that you never realize that the conception of a child is, in itself, quite a little miracle. I never knew. I thought it would all just magically fall into place, just when I wanted it to.

I got pregnant right away. I was 28. And I had a miscarriage shortly thereafter. The miscarriage shattered me. I became even more undone when subsequent months of trying to conceive again came and went without any success. I watched close friends celebrate their pregnancies while my heart broke a little more each passing month.

Eight months after my miscarriage, eight very long months, I became pregnant with Aidan. We found out on Christmas Day. It was, and will remain, the greatest gift I have ever been given.

Since that time, I have learned that my 8 months of tears and breakdowns is a tiny, microscopic drop into the giant sea of women riding the roller coaster ride of trying to conceive a child. I had it easy. I had it good. And I never knew.

I know now. I learned.

Over the last six years, I have shared in the experiences and emotions with friends on their emotional journeys to become a parent. I learned quickly that I had been part of a miracle with my three children. I am more blessed than I deserve to be.

This week I was reminded of this through the tears of a dear friend. It reminded me not to take it all for granted. It reminded me to go home and hug my children tightly. It reminded me of my miracles.

An Interview with the Boys

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Aidan: "I love you."
Brennan: "Get dressed."
Griffin: "I wuv you."

2. What makes mom happy?
Aidan: " When I rub your head."
Brennan: "If I give you kisses."
Griffin: "Rubbing noses."

3. What makes mom sad?
Aidan: "When you don't win in tennis."
Brennan: "When I am not getting dressed."
Griffin: "When Brennan screams. " (Brennan: "I don't scream. You scream." Griffin, "Noooooo!" Brennan, "YES YOU DO!")

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Aidan: "By tickling me."
Brennan: "Tell me jokes."
Griffin: "When you sing the farmer song."

5. What did your mom like as a child?
Aidan: "You never told me."
Brennan: "a baby"
Griffin: "?"

6. How old is your mom?
Aidan: "57?"
Brennan: "I don't know that. Maybe 4? No - 5! Yeah, 5!
Griffin: "Two."

7. How tall is your mom?
Aidan: "Kind of tall."
Brennan: "Really, really big."
Griffin: "You're big."

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
Aidan: "Play tennis."
Brennan: "Clean up."
Griffin: " Tennis."

9. What does your mom do when you're not around
Aidan: "Go to work."
Brennan: "Go to work."
Griffin: "Go to tennis."

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Aidan: "I think you are really, really, really good at tennis."
Brennan: "Reading magazines."
Griffin: : "?"

11. What is your mom really good at?
Aidan: "Tennis."
Brennan: "Reading books and tennis."
Griffin: "Singing."

12. What is your mom not very good at?
Aidan: "Golf."
Brennan: "Cleaning windows."
Griffin: "?"

13. What does your mom do for her job?
Aidan: "You're a lawyer."
Brennan: "Like go to work and go on the computer and help people. She's a lawwwyah."
Griffin: "You go on the computer."

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Aidan: "Pizza."
Brennan: "Carrots."
Griffin: "Pizza."

15. What is your favorite thing to do with Mommy?
Aidan: "Go outside."
Brennan: "Play memory."
Griffin: "Make you pizza from my kitchen."

16. What makes your mom proud of you?
Aidan: "When I get 100% on my tests."
Brennan: "When I clean up the playroom."
Griffin: "When I play with water."

17. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Aidan: "Daphne from Scooby Doo."
Brennan: "Caillou."
Griffin: "Diego."

18. What do you and your mom do together?
Aidan: "We both do tennis."
Brennan: "Eat ice cream. Play memory. "
Griffin: "Go on walk."

19. How are you and your mom the same?
Aidan: "Both of our favorite foods are pizza and we both like to play tennis."
Brennan: "Well, we do have the same hair."

20. How are you and your mom different?
Aidan: "You don't like golf."
Brennan: " I don't know this one."

21. How do you know your mom loves you?
Aidan: "When you give me hugs."
Brennan: "You gives me hugs everywhere."
Griffin: "You love me."

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Aidan: "Tennis."
Brennan: "Wegmans."
Griffin: "Work."

23. How do you know that Daddy loves Mommy?
Aidan: "Because he married you."
Brennan: "All the hugs."
Griffin: "I don't know."

24. What is your mom's favorite COLOR?
Aidan: "Red and pink."
Brennan: "Pink."
Griffin: "blue."

25. What is mom scared of?
Aidan: "Bugs and spiders."
Brennan: "spiders."
Griffin: "skeletons. I like bugs"

26. What is mom's favorite TV show?
Aidan: "I don't know."
Brennan: "I don't know."
Griffin: "Diego! No, the news! I like Diego though."

The Dressing Room

I had a meeting at a clients this afternoon. The meeting finished up too late to trek back to the office, but a little too early to head home. So, I did the only reasonable thing any woman would do with an extra hour on her hands - I shopped. Well, actually, I justified the errands as more of a returning than a shopping expedition, but the truth is - I always have returning to do. (particularly at the stores I frequent the most. It's a sickness.)

I brought my return into the store and told the salesperson that I would love to do a quick peek around the store before I did my transaction. Before I knew it, I had a few things to take back with me into the fitting room.

As I tried on my selections, I heard a woman asking the salesperson for another size in a sweater.

"See," said the saleswoman, "I told you that a large would be just too big. Really. Just huge on you."

"It is really big, isn't it? A large has quite a lot of room." The woman responded.

"That large is just swimming on you. I knew immediately when I saw you that you weren't a large. A medium maybe, but really, a large?" The salesperson gives a quick laugh and continues, "I mean you just aren't that big."

Their conversation made it gobs of fun to try on my size LARGE tops in the dressing room RIGHT next door to them. Lots and lots of fun. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to interject myself into their conversation. But I kept my size large opinion to my size large self.

A Tribute to Lincoln - First Grade Style

After a long day at work, what parent doesn't want to go see each class at Aidan's school from kindergarten to grade 8 put on a presentation that is a tribute to President Lincoln? (I know. Bad mommy. Bad.) But I'll admit it, I was weighing our odds of successfully escaping school presentation night at Aidan's school from the moment we entered the cafeteria. Thankfully, the school begins the night with the lowest grades. (The forlorn faces of the trapped eighth grade parents tugged at my heartstrings just a bit. I saw my future and it isn't pretty.)

Aidan and his class rocked their rendition of "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands" and "Dixie" while dressed to impress in construction paper crafted pilgrim gear. While other parents brought out their impressive high tech gadgets to record the event for posterity's sake, I remembered I forgot to bring the camera and held out my cell phone. (Hey - it works, right?!)

After each class presented, they were ushered off to an ice cream social. Aidan accepted his scoop of ice cream as merely an excuse to ladle heaps of m&ms to the brim of the bowl. I even let him go up for seconds. (It's hard to say no to a boy eating ice cream in a pilgrim hat.) And I am sure even President Lincoln could appreciate a boy's love for candy coated chocolate.

Monday at the Playground

We continued to celebrate spring today. I bribed Brennan and Griffin with a trip to the playground to get us through a trip to Wegmans. It's amazing how agreeable two little boys can be after an hour in the sun running, jumping, and climbing.

Is it Spring? Could it Be?

Spring has sprung. (Well, maybe. In March, in Buffalo, spring is sort of an on again, off again proposition. Today, we enjoy sunshine and the birds chirping. Tomorrow it's a blizzard. That's how spring is ushered into Buffalo.)

But this time it could be different! Really! The weather forecast shows sun, sun and more sun for the next week! And 50 degrees baby. That's practically balmy for March in our parts.

It could not have come at a better time. Cabin fever has settled into our home. We are all a little sick of each other, of the four walls of our home, and of bitter cold temps. (It was an unbelievably, record breaking, cold winter.)

After an hour of tennis this morning, I rushed home to take the boys for a walk. We walked around the block enjoying the sunshine and sky of the bluest blue. We circled back after a bit and headed to our neighbors playground. (The boys call it the playground because while it is owned by our neighbors, it is about the size of the town playground. I am not exaggerating in the slightest. Thankfully, our neighbors graciously offered up their backyard playground for the use of all the kiddies in our locale. This may be because they are the type of people who can have like 8 kids, homeschool them and still appear unfazed.)

As I pushed Griffin in the sun, he giggled and lifted his face up to the sky. After a moment, he sighed and said, "I love the sun, Mommy."

I think we can all agree that we all love the sun. Now let's hope that mean month of March doesn't take away our sunshine please.

The 38th Year

Today Chris is 38. It's hard to imagine for me. I still see us young tykes instead of thirty somethings quickly advancing into middle age.

We celebrated his birthday with an adult dinner out at, of course, a steak house. (To Chris, steak is like chocolate. He is at his happiest with a big pile of succulent beef in front of him.) As I ate my petite filet and Chris wolfed down his 20 oz porterhouse, Chris remarked that the uber trendy couple next to us sharing a bottle of wine must be all of 12. I laughed and placed them at 23 or 24 years of age. It made us both realize our age. An age when anyone and everyone starts to look like a young un.

We are getting older. And in Chris's case, a little grayer. But if I had to do it all over again, I would still pick him to be by my side, to share my life, to grow older and grayer together.

March Roars Like a Lion

March roared its way into our life this week by taking all of us down with a nice ol' fashioned stomach bug. It's not March unless we are vomiting in our house, right? (Seriously. I checked my archives and literally a year and a week ago we all had a stomach bug. How's that for reliability?)

Our sole hold out was Brennan, who despite my being convinced he will fall at any moment, has endured and is healthy.

The stomach bug, some other health issues I have been dealing with (minor, but annoying), the gigantic piles of clean laundry tormenting me with hours of folding time, and the cabin fever settling into all of our bones has made me a little grumpy. (I say little, but I really mean alot grumpy. The kids and Chris can attest to that.)

But on Friday, I took a break from the grumpies, put boots on Griffin and Brennan and went outside to enjoy the muddy almost spring like day. The boys stomped in puddles, collected rocks and indulged their fascination with drains. I was amazed at how a simple thing like a muddy walk with a warm(ish) breeze blowing into your face can make you feel a million times better.

Shut What?

The boys were dancing to my mix of songs on my ipod when the shuffle switched to the song "Shut Up and Let Me Go" by the Ting Tings. (It's a catchy tune from one of the Apple commercials. Oh hell, I guess that's no help at all, considering ALL the songs from the Apple commercials are downright catchy. In fact, I may just well be Apple's itunes bitch because I seem to download every single song from every single commercial right after I hear it. Either that or I am just a marketing wet dream.)

The boys started strutting their stuff to the beat until Aidan let out a loud gasp at the first chorus.

I turned to him and asked with concern, "Aidan, are you okay?"

He turned bright red, shook his head and said softly, "Mom, that song just said a bad word." He turned to Brennan who danced on obliviously and yelled, "Brennan, did you hear that? A BAD WORD."

I honestly was confused and had to ask, "What are you talking about? What bad word?"

He looked back at me aghast, shook his head and walked close to me. He whispered, "Shut up. Mom, they said SHUT UP."

It was probably not one of my finer parental responses that I started giggling uncontrollably and couldn't stop for the duration of the song.

Exhaustion Sets In

I am tired. I am completely wiped out. Chris has been gone for five days and I desperately need a quiet moment, anywhere, anytime, someday. The boys, while they have certainly had their challenging moments, have on the whole been pretty good - no major incidents to report. But the lack of back up, of trading off to someone else, the inability to go to the bathroom without some little tyke banging on the door with a question or a need - it is bone deep exhausting.

The kids were especially crazy tonight, completely wound up after a pick up game of hockey in the foyer. (Our poor hardwood floors never had a chance with our brood.) The hockey game evolved into a game of tackle and wrestle. The wrestling switched into let's all climb on top of Aidan. And that's when I grabbed my phone (my pretty little iphone) and snapped this shot:



They are exhausting and crazy and they create noise levels I never knew possible. But they are mine. All mine.