My ice cream party

It started in February, when the snow was on the ground.  Something triggered Cortlan's memory, and he pointed: "We went to that ice cream place for your birthday, Mommy!"  Yep, we sure did.  Last May.  "Can we go there?"  Well, they aren't open in the winter, so no, we will have to wait until the summer when they open.  "Can we go there for your birthday?"  Maybe we will.

We pass that ice cream place at least twice a day.  And so it went: at least three or four times a week, if not every day, Cortlan asked if we would get ice cream on my birthday.  He never forgot.  It went from, "Can we get ice cream on your birthday?" to "We are going to have an ice cream party for your birthday, Mommy!!" but never once did he ask to go and get ice cream any other time aside from my birthday...not even when we drove by on hot days when the place was packed with people.

The excitement was unbearable for him when my birthday finally came. 

We went to a nice dinner that ended up taking a bit longer than anticipated.  We weren't heading home until 6:45, and usually the kids are getting into their baths at 7:15.  I was completely stuffed from my crab cakes (yum!).  A stop at the ice cream place didn't seem like the best idea in the world. I gently suggested that maybe another day would be better.  The words were hardly even out of my mouth before I knew that to postpone this for a "better" day just wouldn't suffice and so I didn't even wait for the heartbroken reaction that was sure to come .  The turn signal went on, and we pulled in for our family ice cream party. 

Yeah, chocolate ice cream at bedtime on a school night when we are all full from dinner probably isn't ideal.  But the special event that Cortlan had planned for my birthday since February and the sheer joy and messy faces that resulted were probably my favorite presents of the day.  Sometimes, you just have to bend the rules a little bit. 

A new year begins

I turn 33 today, and...

• I am pretty sure that I got about 33 new grey hairs overnight.  Seriously.  Was there some sort of switch that got flipped?  Turn 33, go grey - flip! I am to the point now that I have to make a decision: go grey gracefully or go against my cheapskate nature and cross over to the dark side of having my hair dyed, never to return again to the natural world.  Neither option is very appealing right now.  But, if I pluck many more, I will be bald before I know it.
• I am very curious as to what the future will hold.  When I think about all of the things that have happened in my life to lead me to this point, a point that I would have never envisioned years ago, it really amazes me.  All of the good stuff, all of the bad stuff, every twist and turn, the things that I had control over and the things that had control over me - it all has led me to this point.  All of those experiences have made me who I am.  And I am happy with that, and I am happy to have realized that, too.  Because it makes thinking about all of the other experiences that I have yet to have seem that much more exciting.
• I am proud to say that while I may not be in the best shape of my life, I am in better shape than I would have ever anticipated at this point.  I remember a time not that long ago when I wasn't able to run three miles without stopping.  On Saturday, I ran my second 5K. 
• I am not proud to say that if I didn't write my time down, I would forget it, as I did with my first 5K time that I thought I would always remember.  (That race was in September.  You would think that I would have been able to keep it in my head for less than a year, especially since it was my first.  But, no.  I had to look it up online, where it thankfully was safely stored.  So here, for my own future reference, are my times:  September 2009: 24.46.  May 22, 2010: 24.38.)
• I am happy to say that overall, I am happy. Genuinely happy. Not in a "my life is perfect" kind of way, because it isn't. Not in a "stress-free" kind of way, because it isn't that, either. (Obviously. Remember the grey hairs?) But in a "this moment is as good as it can possibly be, and I am going to enjoy it thoroughly" kind of way. Of course, there are moments that get by me unnoticed, and there are other moments during which I am irate, but when I stop and think about my general state, I am definitely happy.
• I am extremely thankful for all of the gifts that I have in my life - my husband, my two beautiful kids, my awesome and thoughtful and supportive friends and family, my health, the ability to laugh, to cry, and to celebrate, and the realization that I could sit here for days listing everything that I am thankful for.

This is going to be a great year, grey hair (or not) and all.

Almost there, but not quite

I have a love-hate relationship with this time of the year.  On the love side - the sunny days, the fresh air flowing through my open windows, the fact that my birthday, and hence, summer, is right around the corner, the anticipation of a much needed break, and this year, a trip to the beach.  On the hate side - the mind-blowing frenzied crescendo to the end of the school year, make-up work pouring in due to unbelievable amounts of student absences, fitting in the last of the curriculum in far fewer days than should be allotted, final exams, things piling up at home, and this year, the speech that is hanging over my head.

Really, I don't remember any other year being quite this bad.  At school or at home.  So let me think of what is different.

I didn't start the school year until November due to maternity leave, so I got off to a slower start.  We missed five (or six?) days of school dues to the blizzard in February.  I now have two active and into everything and attention getting kids to keep up with, one of whom has realized that if she finds and hands me her shoes on a nice day, we will probably go outside to play, thereby leaving any housework for another time.  And this speech.

I think, really, the difference is this speech.  Once it is written, and especially once it has been given, I am pretty sure that I will feel much better.  It is funny how I have so much to say when no one is listening.  I can just go on and on and on.  But put me in a situation in which I have to get it right the first time because I probably will never see my audience again, knowing that I have learned SO much over the last 15 years and that I couldn't possibly summarize it in ten minutes, knowing that I have the chance to say something that might, just might, honestly affect even one person's life, and that everyone in the room is going to be listening to me...that changes the game for me in a big way.

So I am going to keep doing what I am doing until it is done.  And that is - getting through each day of work, play, cleaning, cooking, shopping, running, and stressing about this speech as I attempt time and time again to write it.  Come June 9th, it will be over and nothing but a memory.  Hopefully, it will be a good memory.  But it will definitely be done.  And then, let summer begin.

Bananas and clubs

I have been spending what little creative energy that I have on the speech that I am trying to write - the one that currently has three beginnings, two endings, and no middle  - that I am giving to a group of graduating high school students on June 9.  And so I haven't put as much into this blog as I would have liked to recently.  That will probably be the case until the weight of the speech is off of my shoulders.  But every day there is something that happens or something is said, and I think, "I have got to write this down."  Wouldn't it be great to have a memory that you could recall like flipping to a page in a book?  I find that more often than not I can hardly remember the funny things, or even the poignant things, that happen in my daily life.  Last night, for example, John brought up a memory that was nearly gone, one with Cortlan at probably one and a half years old, hardly able to talk, singing, "Baby, baby, baby!"  at the dinner table.  I mean singing.  Like, belting out in a James Brown kind of way.  Once triggered, I remembered egging him on, singing it right back to him, laughing as he kept up his serenade.  I don't want to forget those things.

So, a snapshot of Thursday, for better or for worse:

John had an early meeting, hence, I was on my own dropping the kiddos off at school.  This always presents a little bit of a logistical problem for me, as there is a lot of stuff and a lot of toddler energy to carry into the building.  The three of us walked into Cortlan's room first, as he is not allowed in Everly's room, with the intent of dropping him and his stuff off so that I could proceed to Everly's room, get her situated, and then return to his room to give him his cereal and his proper goodbye's.  Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy.  If Everly gets within two feet of Cortlan's room, that is where she wants to stay.  I put her down for two seconds (mistake #1), and she started blowing me kisses goodbye, which was super cute, but the sense of foreboding overwhelmed the "awww!" factor at that moment.  She wouldn't let me pick her up.  She wailed.  And I ended up grabbing her like a screaming sack of potatoes to get her out of the room.  I forgot her banana in the car (mistake #2), and had to leave her for a second.  I am sure she thought I was abandoning her with no breakfast and no kiss goodbye, as she was inconsolable by the time I got back.  So much for the banana.  She was so upset that she didn't eat for another forty-five minutes.  She had settled down within that time, though, and didn't even notice me when I arrived to pick her up in the afternoon, she was so busy having fun playing.  But, needless to say, Everly likes routine. 

As for Cortlan...he has been testing a lot more these days.  There seems to be an ebb and flow with him, as I am sure is the case with all kids.  But just as we all get into a nice groove, he begins to try again to see what he can get away with.  There seems to be motive, conscious or not, to everything he does.  Dinner might take an hour and a half if we let it, which I totally do not understand.  If he finishes, he gets to play longer and we get to do other fun things.  Instead, we sit at the dinner table.  And it isn't that he doesn't want to eat...if we tell him that we are going to take his plate, he gets upset.  He wants to eat it.  He just wants to eat it ssssslllllllloooooooowwwwwwwlllllllllyyyyy.  When he finally finished dinner yesterday, there was actually enough time to play outside for a bit (good thing we started eating at 5:15), and much to my delight, Cortlan decided he wanted to ride his bike.  (He is still struggling a bit with getting the pedals going forward, and sometimes he gets stuck.  So, I am always happy when he gives it another shot.)  He had a destination this time:  His quilting club.  And he was taking his motorcycle, he told me.  Quilting club??  Yep.  He was insistent.  But he had to get gas first.  And then fix his tire.  And then he was "off to quiltin' club."  (Any readers of this care to provide insight as to where that may have come from?  I have my suspicions.)

I have to give my speech a couple of weeks from now, and I find it interesting that fifteen years ago, I sat in that same banquet hall as a student, and that fifteen years from now, Cortlan will be the one graduating.  If the next fifteen years go as fast as the last fifteen (and I have a feeling they will go even faster), I better hold on to my hat.  And to the memories.

Future Plans

I don't know why, but today I decided that if (when) John and I make it to our 50th Anniversary (whew!  that is a long time!) I want to have a huge party and I would like to wear my wedding dress.  So, kids, if you are reading this sometime in the future, keep this in mind:  You are in charge.  Make it a great party.  And to my future self:  You better stay in shape.

My Mother's Day

Sure, I received "stuff" from my family that I love for Mother's Day.  But I loved the day, and the things that it reminded me of, too.  Or, maybe, even more.

On my Mother's Day, I got to sleep in until 8AM.  I slowly awoke and headed to the living room, where Cortlan handed me a personally decorated card.  Head tilted, shy smile on his face, and in his sweetest little boy voice, he said, "Happy Mother's Day."  He gave me a huge hug. "You are my favorite little boy ever," I said.  He smiled and said, "And you know what?  We are family."  Yep.  We are family.  And my family is a little piece of heaven. 

John made me the best omelet that I have ever tasted.  Seriously.  I got to sip my coffee and play on the floor with the kids.  Cortlan's imagination ran wild, and Everly even got involved with the playing, which is awesome to see.  She was opening and closing the barn door of the Little People farm, putting the animals in and taking them out.  My kids have the greatest smiles.

I took a long, hot, relaxing shower.

We went to my mom and dad's house, where we had pizza and brownies, and I got to see my sister and nieces, the youngest only a little more than a week old.  The kids played on the swings and the sun was shining.

We headed home and Everly fell asleep before we were a mile away.  We snuggled both kids into bed for a nap, and then I snuggled on the papisan chair in the sunniest spot on the sun porch and read the newspaper in total silence and peace.  No running around trying to get things done during naptime this day.  In fact, no cleaning at all on this day.  (Though, I did throw in a load of laundry.  I just knew if I didn't I would regret it later this week.)

The kids woke up and we took some pictures, as is tradition on Mother's Day.  We then headed over to my mother-in-law's house, where the kids played and we laughed and talked and listened to music and set up her wii and ate grapes.

Dinner was delicious.  The hugs were the best.  And then I headed out to get a movie while John bathed the kids.  On the way, I turned up the radio really loud and belted out one of my favorite songs that was playing.  I got home in time to tuck my little boy into bed and give him sweet kisses and hear "Happy Mother's Day" one more time before I settled in to watch The Blind Side. 

I love Mother's Day.  Not that it is drastically different than any other day, but I think it is because the mere title of the day pulls into focus how special it is to be a mom, and how much I love being one, and how lucky I am to have a wonderful one, too.

Inspired Mother's Day

On this Mother's Day, I am inspired.

I am inspired by the moms who seem to have it all together, and the moms who let it be known that they don't.  I am inspired by the moms who have children that are calm and quiet, and the ones whose children are spirited and bold.  I am inspired by the ones that have social lives that involve wine after bedtime, and the ones whose social lives revolve around kids' birthday parties.  I am inspired by the fashionable moms and those who throw the concept of traditional fashion to the curb, even temporarily, whether by necessity or choice (or plain old lack of awareness).

The moms who have multiple crafts and projects lined up for their kids inspire me, as do the ones with no plans at all, who take their children on nature walks or to the park at the spur of the moment.  The moms who take time for themselves inspire me.  The moms whose kids have manners better than some adults inspire me, as do the moms who exercise regularly, use all kinds of coupons to get the best deals, know all the best kid's authors, and know how to get their kids to eat their veggies. 

The moms at the grocery store with kids in Halloween costumes in May inspire me.

The moms who can talk on the phone, nurse their babies, and make kick-ass grilled cheese sandwiches - all at the same time - inspire me.

The moms who have given up their "real" jobs for the sake of the very real job of raising children inspire me.  The ones who continue to work while still being awesome at their very real job of raising children inspire me, too. 

The moms who wrestle on the living room floor, play with diggers, dump trucks, and dirt, build block towers for the toy firemen to climb, operate toy drills and hammers, and make a mean mud pie with their sons inspire me. 

The moms who do all those things with their daughters, too, might even inspire me more.

The moms who show their daughters what it is like to have good body image and defy stereotypes inspire me.  (The mom who drives a Harley and whose daughter never thought for once that she couldn't do ANYTHING that the boys did, especially so.)

I am inspired by the moms who work hard to go against the grain of society because they believe in doing so, and the ones who are willing to let go and just roll with it every now and then.  I am inspired by the moms who manage to get their children to every soccer, baseball, dance, hockey, and tennis practice, as well as the ones who, at least a few nights a week, are content to toss and kick the ball around in the backyard and/or dance with reckless abandon in the living room.

I am inspired by step-moms, adoptive moms, foster moms, and surrogate moms.  And by the women who are looked up to as moms, even though they may not have the official title.

I am inspired by single moms, who have to do it all by themselves.

I am inspired by moms of kids with disabilities, and moms whose kids are sick.

I am inspired by the moms who have lost their babies at whatever age, but who are still, and will always be, moms in their hearts.

I am inspired by the moms of yesterday and today, and by the hope-to-be-future-moms who will someday see their dreams come true, one way or another.

I am inspired by the moms who set a good example for their children in body, mind, and soul.

I am inspired by the moms who set a good example for me. 

I am inspired by you.

Happy Mother's Day.

What I am loving at the moment

• Cortlan dressing himself.  Even though they were inside out AND backwards, he put his underwear on all by himself.
• Everly giving kisses...lip smacking sound and all.
• Getting hands dirty.  And the prospect of home-grown herbs and veggies.
• The success of my friends in the half-marathon...inspirational.
• Other people's newborn babies.  They are so soft and sweet and beautiful, and I don't have to get up with them in the middle of the night.
• Open windows and fresh air, even while the rain softly falls outside, and even though it is a little bit humid.
• Big closets.  I don't have them, but that doesn't stop me from loving them.
• Summer clothes.  Because the 2T pants that fit around Cortlan's waist are too short...but the shorts aren't.  The clothes are much more forgiving on Everly, too.  And, it is just nice to put away the winter stuff.
• And last, but certainly not least: lunch that I didn't have to cook, cinnamon chocolate sheet cake with birthday candles in it, laughing, and spending time with family on a rainy Sunday.  I wish we could do it more often.