Through A Mother's Eyes

She sits on my lap in the porch.

Even though the temps are frigid the sun pours in as if it might be 80 degrees.

She sits there, playing with the remote control.

The sun glows on her skin.

Her cheeks are pink and plump.  I wonder if I might sneak a taste.  Just one.

Her hair, smooth and shiny.

She wears a ridiculously large bow to hold back her chin-length bangs.

Her lashes curl just so and are a million miles long.

Her lips are perfectly pink and pouty.

I am in awe.

I rush for my camera hoping not to waste the moment.

She senses its presence and offers a smile.

 Then, suddenly, she pretends to be shy.

There are days I can't believe this beauty was born of me, born of my mother, born of my grandmother...

Will she ever see herself as beautiful as I do?

Will I ever think of myself as beautiful as my mother did when I sat on her lap, bathed in sunshine and perfectly ripe?

Did my mother ever think of herself as beautiful as my grandmother did?

How much better we would all be if we could see ourselves through our mother's eyes.

Pay It Forward Friday

On Tuesday night Brian and I were just getting ready to go to bed somewhere in the 10 o'clock hour when our doorbell rang.  The front of our house is full of windows so I knew the "ringer" could see us in our living room but I was afraid to look back.

Who rings a doorbell after 10 o'clock on a weeknight?

"You go get it!" I yelled, scared, at Brian.

Neither of us recognized the person or their idling car out front which only added to the scariness of it all.

Was this a Halloween prank?

Brian opened the front door a crack.

"Yessss?"  He inquired.

"Hey I just wanted to let you know your garage door is open.  Is yours the one just behind here."

"Ah, yeah."

"Yeah, I drove past a couple of times and noticed it was open.  Just thought I'd let you know.  With all this wind you probably don't want to keep it open all night."

"Right.  Thanks!"

We had wicked weather on Tuesday night.  No seriously, wicked.  Like, I thought we might meet the Wicked Witch of the West since we would obviously be visiting Oz as soon as the next 60 MPH gust picked up the house.

I don't know how many times I've been upset with Brian for leaving the garage door open.  It's been a lot.  He has this bad habit of pulling out the car and then driving off without closing the door leaving the contents of our garage for the taking.  A $500 stroller?  Couple of bikes?  A kickass snowblower?  A new lawnmower?  Free for you.  Apparently.  My anger is not out of line.

This summer he had a good run going.  He never forgot to close that garage door.  But then autumn arrived, the trees started to drop their leaves and I tried to warn him.

"You can't just press the button and drive off," I cautioned.  "You have to watch the door go all the way down. Sometimes the leaves get blown into the safety sensors and the door goes back up."

But he didn't listen.

That very morning I had to trudge out there in my skivvies to close it because he had left it open on his way to work. I let it slide because he did me a favor and dropped William off at school.

Then he got home from work, pressed the button and hustled into the house not waiting to see if the door closed all the way as his smarty smart wifey had suggested.

So thank you, kind stranger for saving our garage from what could have been.

Your turn!

Where the Heart Is

I wrote this Monday morning but surprise, surprise I had a few things to catch up on and didn't get around to proofing and publishing until just now.


I arrived in the middle of the night.

I dropped my bags in the hallway and collapsed on the bed.

I laid my head on Brian's chest.

He was deep in sleep but I knew he knew I was there when he let out a sigh of comfort.

I picked up my tired body and tiptoed into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

On my way back to the bedroom I made a pit stop in William's room.

I buried my nose into the side of his cheek and breathed him in.

I whispered into his ear, "Mommy's home."

His eyes flickered once, twice.

Then he threw one elbowed arm around my neck and pulled me in.  Tight.

"Mooooommy..."  He sighed with content.

I kissed him and told him he could go back to sleep.

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm home for good now."

I crawled into bed, under the covers.

Have my sheets always been this soft?

I searched for the warmth of my husband.

The door creaked.

I heard sobbing.

"Mommy I did miss you.  I did want you to come home."

I lift the blankets and let him in.

Brian explains, "He told me he didn't want you to come home."

Trying to be brave.  I'm sure.

My little boy who is still so little.

I hold him closer so he knows.  I'll still be here in the morning.

Then I carry him back to bed.

In the morning I heard her chatting away.

Could she talk this well before I left?

I open her door a crack and offer her my eyeball.

She laughs.

I close the door.

"Mommy!"

I spring the door wide open.

She throws her bed head back and gives off a full belly giggle.

Does she remember that I was gone?  Or has she already forgotten?

I pick her up and she wraps both arms around my neck and melts into me.

The strongest claw couldn't pry her away.

She remembers.

Together we go downstairs where I start preparing everyone's oatmeal.

I kiss Brian goodbye and he leaves the house sans kids for the first time in five days.

I add the brown sugar, cinnamon, berries.

We gather around the table.

"So what do you want to do today, Mommy?"

"Whatever you want!"

And I mean it.

And I know.

This is where I belong.  It's where I've always belonged.

1.5

• You say "Pea-Daddy" [Please, Daddy] for everything.  Even if Daddy isn't around and even if the person with whom you are speaking is definitely not Daddy.
• You say "He-go" for "Here you go" and "Thank you."
• When you are finished eating dinner you scream "kee-kees" [cookies] at the top of your lungs and then you subsequently answer your own question by raising your hand and saying, "I DO!"
• You fold your hands when we pray and you always say "AIM!" [Amen] at the end of each prayer.
• You love to sing and dance with all the music at church.
• But you don't like going to church all that much.
• You are fearless on your own terms.  But you get paralyzingly scared if we put you on a high surface.
• Loud roars and big, noisy action figure toys scare the living daylights out of you.
• On most nights you sleep 13 hours.  But you still wake in the middle of the night at least once a week.
• You love to sleep with your Jellycat bunny.  You also love your nukie and your blankie but you aren't as attached as your older brother once was.
• You are just now starting to enjoy your big brother's company and love it when he uses funny voices, makes you chase him down the hallway or when he hides under his bed.
• You call him "Ee-yum" or sometimes "Wa-yum."
• Your favorite food is anything we put in front of you.  I can't think of one thing you won't eat.
• Strangers comment on your long hair with natural highlights.  They also comment on your shyless way of saying "HI!" to anyone we see.
• You let anyone hold you.  Except the lady at the gym.  So we haven't been to the gym together in a while.
• When all other modes of communication fail, screaming works.  Louder the better.  You're going to have a lovely singing voice.
• Sometimes hugs include small pats on the back.  That shows you really mean it.
• You like sayings like "Uh oh, pump up the jam!" or anything in a weird voice.  Easiest way to get you to laugh on cue. 
• Every day I put barrettes or pigtails in your hair.  Every day you take them out.
• Hands down, your favorite person in the world in Daddy and you let the whole neighborhood know about it when his car pulls into the garage at the end of the workday.
• But you still prefer mommy when you are hurt or sick or scared.
• You don't really care for television except for Sesame Street.  Sesame Street is your drug.
• You have an obsession with shoes and if you are crabby putting on your shoes is a sure thing to cheer you up.
• Your favorite toys are your baby dolls, play kitchen, William's cars and dropping the juice lids into the tin can.  And phones.  Any phone.  All phones.
• You never take off your sunglasses when I put them on you.  This amazes other people.
• When I'm typing away at the computer you quietly walk over and nudge your head against my elbow so that I'll put my arm around you.
• When we ask you how old you are, you hold up one finger and say matter-of-factly, "Tee." [Three]
• When we ask you what your name is you say, "Soo-see."
• When I say I love you, you look back and say, "Muh-WAH!" and blow me a giant kiss.
• When you wake in the morning we fight over who gets to go get you first.
• When you are waddling around the house or sitting in your highchair or dancing to the radio, we are stunned by your beauty and drunk with your cuteness.
• When you came into our lives 18 months ago you filled a void we didn't know existed.
• Happy half birthday, Little Lucy Girl!

Solo

Flying out on a jet plane tomorrow to wine country with four of my besties.  (Missing you, J9!)

Brian will be playing the part of Mr. Mom for five days.  Prayers are appreciated.

He may or may not guest post in between the making of the meals, the wiping of the bums, the changing of the laundry, the conference calls and probably a lot of watching of 80s movies on TV.

And me?  I'll be knee-deep in grape crushing, bottles of wine and a lot of girly chitter chatter.  When I'm not missing my family like crazy, that is.

Toodle loo!

My Friday, So Far

There's no Pay It Forward Friday today because this story needs to be told ASAP.  Consider it my little gift to you for making you feel better about your own life.  Because my life, in comparison, is a total circus.  Here's my proof.

William was up way too early this morning which meant he watched too much television which meant his behavior was less than desirable.  So I fed the kids lunch a half hour early and ushered them straight into naptime.

"Today you must sleep," I declared to William.

I make an attempt at nap for William everyday but 80% of the time he ends up reading books and asking if he can come out an hour later.  Today would be the 20% where he actually falls asleep.  Or so I told myself.

So the kids are in their rooms and I come downstairs to bask in the quiet and stillness of the house.  I decide a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies sounds perfect for this crisp, fall day.  I throw the sugar and butter in the KitchenAid and let it whirl.  Two eggs, some vanilla...

"Mommy?"

"William, get back into bed.  It's time for a rest."

"But, Mommy, I just need your help with something."

This is gonna be good.  What great distraction tactic will he come up with today?

"What do you need help with, William?"

"I need help getting something out of my ear."

"What?  What's in your ear?"

Now he's all the way downstairs and standing in front of me in the kitchen.

"Well, I was doing this magic trick.  I had this button in my hands like this."

He shows me two closed fists.

"And then it disappeared!  And then I tried to get it out of my ear but it couldn't come out."

"William, that's a magic trick.  Only a magician knows how to do that."

"But where's the button?"

"I don't know.  Did you drop it?  Is it in your bed?"

"No.  I told you, it's in my ear."

"Which ear?"

"This one."

He points to his right ear.  I look into his right ear.  I see nothing.

"William, there's nothing in your ear.  You must have dropped the button somewhere."

"No, Mommy.  It's stuck in my ear.  I told you."

This time I stick my pinky finger, the finger containing my extra long manicured nail, way into his ear.  Way further back than nature ever intended, my nail hits something hard.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I gasp.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Mommy, I'm so sorry, I'm SO SORRY!"

OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygod

He starts digging in his ear.

"DON'T DO THAT!" I shout, "You'll push it in even further!"

I run upstairs and grab my tweezers.  I pull his earlobe out as far as I can and still see nothing.

"Oh, William, oh, William.  This is baaaaaad!"

Blindly, I slowly insert my tweezers into his ear.  I feel the tip of the tweezers hit the button.  I quickly squeeze and pull out.  Nothing.  And now I fear I've pushed the thing in further.

Oh my God we are that family!  We are the family with the kid that sticks the marble up his nose and has to go into the ER to have it surgically removed.  I make fun of those people.  What kid has parents stupid enough to not be paying attention when they stick a fricken marble up their nose?  Except it's his ear.  Which is way worse because what if it goes all the way in and starts floating around in his brain?  And, oh my God, there was this lady last night on Private Practice that had this pressure on her brain and she had chronic, excruciating pain.  He's going to have chronic, excruciating pain!  And another one of my kids is going to need fricken full-on skull surgery!

Yes, it's true.  I panicked.  I paced the house, wringing my hands, not even caring that my 3-year-old son was watching his mom in a complete panic.

Good! He should see me panicking!  This is a time to panic!  It serves him right!

Not really knowing what my next steps should be, I call Brian.  He doesn't answer.  I know that he's at a client lunch so I text him: You need to call me back asap.  We have an emergency.

I made sure not to include any exclamation points.  Exclamation points equal death.  And we weren't talking death.  At least not yet.

He called me back less than a minute later at which point I made a mental note to later thank him for realizing that this indeed warranted an immediate callback and was not like the rest of the times he ignores me when I've asked him to call me back asap because the immediate concern was that we were out of milk and I need him to pick some up for me.

"Ohmygod, Brian, William stuck a button in his ear and I can't get it out!  It's WAY in there!  I can't even see it! WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!WhatdoIdo?!"

"Whoa! Calm down.  Is he crying?"

"No."

"Is he in pain?"

"I don't think so."

"OK, then.  Let's not panic.  I'll call the triage nurse since you obviously are in no state to speak with anyone coherently.  Can you text me the number?"

"Yes."

We hang up the phone.  I text him the nurse's number.

Then I start playing the whole doctor's office scenario out on my head.  We'd bring him in.  They'd laugh at us.  William would be way more scared in there than he is at home.  They'll probably end up using a tweezers just like mine to get it out.  And then I'll look stupid for not being able to get it out on my own.  And we'll be slapped with an outrageous office visit bill.

I grab a flashlight and leave the tweezers alone for a moment.

"William, come here."

I lean his head all the way to the side and pull his ear lobe out as far as I can.  I shine my flashlight into his ear just so and I can finally see the tiny pink button that came as an extra with one of my sweaters I purchased long ago.

I see the button is facing sideways so that if I could just get my tweezers that far in, it would be very easy to grab hold of the edge and pull the button out.  The problem is that if I put down the flashlight, the button disappears from sight.  If I keep the flashlight but let go of his lobe, the button again disappears from sight.  I need to a third hand to maneuver the tweezers.  Then I have an idea!

I usher William downstairs to Brian's music room.  I turn on his piano light, the one with the bendy arm, and fixate it so that it's shining directly into his ear.

"DON'T. MOVE."

"OK, Mommy."

I pull his lobe out and insert my tweezers.  I pinch the tweezers together and when I'm sure I've got hold of the button, I squeeze the tweezers with all my might and pull out.  The button slid out effortlessly.

The offending button, the triumphant tweezers and a dime for comparison.

I immediately had mixed emotions. I kind of wanted to nominate myself for mother of the year. But I also I kind of wanted to slap William. But I also I kind of wanted to give him a giant hug.

"Wow!  Good job, Mommy!"

"William.  This was very serious!  You don't ever, ever, EVER stick things in your ears or up your nose, or, or...anywhere.  Do you understand?  It's very dangerous and the doctors might have to cut you open to get it out."

"OK, Mommy.  I won't do it again.  I promise."

At that moment the triage nurse called to give me instructions on how to get it out.

"No worries, I already got it out."

"OK, and have you used this as a teaching opportunity?"

Sigh.  We are soooooooo that family.

"Yes, thank you for calling.  Goodbye."

And that, my friends, has been my Friday.

Like the Spaghetti Part in Lady & The Tramp

This picture is almost a month old now but for whatever reason I forgot to post it here.  Brian was out of town for a long weekend and I thought up fun things for me and the kids to do while he was gone.  I bought junky frozen food for dinner -- chicken nuggets, sweet potato fries, wontons and the like -- and then I promised we would walk to the local malt shop and William could pick out any flavor of malt he wanted.

He picked Chocolate and Banana.  I picked Chocolate and Coffee.

It was tricky keeping Lucy from tipping over the malt glasses while I fed her at an all-too-slow-in-her-opinion pace.  So I decided I would just let her do her own thing and deal with the mess in the bathtub later.  I let her stand on the booth next to William and stuck an extra straw in his malt.  It was a totally genius idea if I do say so myself.

I could have snapped 100 pictures of this same pose if I wanted.  Neither of them moved until the glass was sucked dry.

I sent the picture via text to Brian.  It wasn't until after he responded that I realized Lucy appears to be holding William's hand.

It's pictures like these that make my heart skip a beat at the thought of being away from them when I'm on vacation next week.