Did your parents do this to you?
That compulsion to dress siblings in matching outfits. To assure that everyone assumes they are related simply because they are wearing the same shirt/dress/skirt/shorts/culottes. My mom did it to me and my sister who is 15 months older than me. I hated it. So did my sister. But mom thought it was just the fuuuuuuniest thing when total strangers would ask if we were twins. I assumed that must be the reason to dress us alike. A secret wish that we were in fact twins.
I was wrong. It’s just fun! And convenient….but mostly just fun. I mean, how easy is it to just find a shirt you like, and just pick up two of them in different sizes? No shopping for two different outfits to suit the individual tastes of each child. No poring over which child will be jealous of the other child’s outfit. And now when I take my kids out in their sweet little matching outfits, everyone tells me just how cute they are. And I agree.
I have turned into my mother. Someday my boys will grow up and reminisce on how I dressed them like twinkies and laugh. And they will bond over their mutual humiliation. And then they will have kids of their own and their wives will dress them in matching outfits. My sons will roll their eyes and I will smile.
So my friend J called me this morning and asked if I wanted to get our kids together for lunch at Mickey D’s. Sounded good to me. We got there and decided to let the kids play for a while before getting them anything to eat. J had bought each of the boys a light up airplane candy toy – the kind you find in the check out lane at Target and they were having a blast zooming them through the play area.
After getting a table, I decided to get some waters for all of us and upon coming back to sit down promptly spilled every cup. I ran for napkins and got everything mopped up pretty quickly as the rest of the moms stared at me as if my head were up my rear. Except for J. She loves me anyway.
I threw away the rather large pile of soggy napkins and sat down to have some adult conversation.
I told J “Wow. This is not my day.”
“Surprisingly, C and I are both having a great day,” she replied with a laugh.
Not 1 minute after the words left her tongue, I looked over to see C on the floor with his hand on his forehead. He didn’t cry at first, just calmly walked over to J and climbed in her lap. I asked him what happened and when he didn’t answer I asked N, who pointed at C’s airplane toy, which was broken. The lollipop portion had fallen off exposing a rather sharp point intended to hold the candy. J laid C down in her lap and suddenly his head was bleeding. He had fallen and stabbed himself in the forehead with the jagged end of the toy leaving a gaping wound about 1/2 inch long. J thrust a napkin onto the wound while I ran for the counter and demanded ice in a bag.
“What happened?,” asked a startled employee.
“Head wound,” was all I could manage.
I returned the ice to J and rounded up some more napkins. I cleaned up the wound and pulled a couple of band aids from my purse. I put them on as tight as they would go while singing songs to C, who was now pretty scared. I told J to take him to the Dr. immediately since it probably needed stitches. She left in a flurry and I stayed to fill out an incident report sheet that the manager apologized for requiring me to complete.
10 minutes after we walked in the door, I left once again with a very confused and concerned N. C needed 4 stitches. N’s airplane later broke at home in the same way C’s had, so I threw it in the trash. Long story, but all that to say don’t buy those lollipop airplanes at Target!
Wow. It’s been two years. Um…sorry about that. Life gets a little out of hand sometimes.
Especially when you have another baby. That’s right! Noah is a big brother and I am now classifying myself as clinically insane! The sad truth is, I really have no good excuse for being absent from this place for so long, so I am going to fill you in here on what has happened since March 11, 2010.
*Noah turned 2. Then 3. And in 2 more months, he will turn 4.
*I got pregnant. We found out it was a boy. I promptly gained 30 lbs before I even lost the 30 I gained during my last pregnancy.
*We moved into a horrible rental house with horrible neighbors.
*We bought a house that we love with neighbors that ROCK!
*Elijah Richard Jasper was born on March 23, 2011.
*I lost 45 lbs. What what!!!
I’ve Never been more happy. I feel that as I approach 30, I have hit my stride in life. There are goals and dreams I haven’t fulfilled yet, but for that there’s always tomorrow. In the meantime, please enjoy the following photo of me and my boys.
N has been an utter handful. Constant whining and fussing. Outright refusal to comply with anything I tell him to do. Fighting naps so hard that he skips them altogether. Is this the life of every mom of a toddler? I just put N in his bedroom for a few moments so that I can take a step outside and regain my composure before stepping back into what feels like a battlefield. His will against mine. For the time being, I have the upper hand – that may change in the next few hours before daddy gets home. I feel a tingling under my scalp that tells me my brunette is turning gray very quickly and very suddenly. We’ll see if I let the grays come in at all….I may have pulled it all out by this evening.
Every mom has one of these. The classic snapshot of a tot covered in noodles and red sauce. These are the candids that will grace commemorative slideshows and be shoved in the face of every girl he brings home on a date. Yes, I will be one of those moms. There is nothing wrong with that. I will always remind him of how much he loved spaghetti that night, and that it always tastes better once it has been stuck to your face.
We bought a pint sized table and chair set at Ikea to try and keep N from climbing all over our dining room set. N loves it, but he still climbs on the dining room stuff. Oh well. C’est la vie.
We woke up last Thursday morning to massive cottony snowflakes drifting to the ground. It was magical! I could almost see sugared plums dancing in my head. Not really. That would just be weird. I enjoyed watching the spectacle until I realized that the snow was piling up very quickly and the thought occurred to me that I had a 30 minute drive to work ahead of me and that the white stuff would be twice as thick by the time I would be headed home. Being from Arizona, this was an intimidating thought.
I left for work early, with three inches of snow on the ground, and took my time. Car whizzed past me, shaking their fists and shouting muted obscenities through closed windows at me, but I was going to get there safe so I just smiled. The snow continued to accumulate on the ground and in less than four hours, we had six inches! My workplace lost power, so we closed up shop for the day and went home early. I picked up N from school before his nap time and brought him home to sleep in his own bed. While he slept, I joined our neighbors in the backyard for some good old fashioned frolicking in the snow. The following photos are evidence of my lack of maturity on that particular afternoon.
Who would have thought that something so simple could bring a little boy so much happiness? We bought N a backpack to tote papers, crafts, clothes, and anything else he decides to sneak into the bag to and from school. It has a racecar on it, which thrills him to no end. He wore it for two hours yesterday and refused to let me take it off – running around the room shouting Mrooom Mrooom. I guess he has trouble saying vroom??
What’s that? You want to know what sort of crazy things I have found stashed in N’s new backpack? Well, let me tell you. I have found dogfood, countless hot wheels, a sock, my car keys, and a pair of D’s underwear. At least I know where to look if something mysteriously disappears.
Ok, so after a very trying few weeks with N pretty much refusing any decent behavior, I was rewarded tonight for my hard work. It has been months since he has been worn out enough to fall asleep during our evening snuggle time before bed. But here he is, clinging to his blankie, milk drool dripping from the corners of his limp little lips, fast asleep in my arms. Going prematurely gray is worth it.
It has been one of those days where I simply crave a glass of good wine. N has been a bit of a terror as of late and it seems that every evening finds me more exhausted than the last. God bless my sweet husband, who does his very best to distract our little Jekyll-Hyde. He really has saved what little shred of sanity I feel I have left.
We are having spaghetti for dinner tonight, so I bought a bottle of light, dry Pinot Grigio. It is a middle of the road, goes with anything kind of wine that came highly recommended from the sommalier at our local grocery store. Yes, our grocery store has a sommalier. Go figure.
Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mom. It is the greatest and most rewarding accomplishment of my lifetime. But sometimes I think back to the carefree days of being a happily married DINK (dual-income-no-kids) household. I think of how I took it for granted that I could simply go anywhere at any time. Leave town for a weekend and not worry about what to do with or for my little one. Do you ever feel that way? I do. Not very often. But tonight, bring on the wine!