You'll Have Time

Do you have those days? You know...Those days?


The ones where your head and heart are wrapped around some family drama, some slight, or minor heartbreak. Hell, maybe it's even a major heartbreak, but certainly not one worthy of consuming you heart, mind, and soul. Yet, there you go, deep in the spiral of fear, worry, anxiety, anger, frustration, and utter annoyance. And then when you least expect it there's one. more. thing. That thing. The thing. The straw that breaks the camel's back thing. And when it happens you lose it, bursting into tears or shouting in rage. Naturally whatever that thing is, it's something that you normally wouldn't waste the energy to bat an eyelash at. But there you go... all red-faced and weepy, face wrenched in torment and anger.


I had one of those days last week. I'd received a phone call from a friend that put me on edge and had me feeling anxious and worried. Cooper came down with vestibular disease and I was afeared for his life*, Scott was out of the country for work and I was single-parenting it for the week and feeling a little lonesome, too. I felt like I was going to come out of my skin, had a million and one things I wanted to accomplish, was feeling angry and frustrated by the redistricting situation in my county, and was teetering on the edge.


When Beckett decided to fingerpaint on the kitchen table with his yogurt and dipped his brother's Field Day ribbons (which were on the table because I was cleaning out our kitchen closet!) in the yogurt, I was annoyed and told him he had to clean it up. I walked over to the sink to gather the cleaning supplies. When I turned around, Beckett was perched on the table, right smack dab in the middle of his strawberry yogurt masterpiece. Naturally, as one is wont to do on a bad day, I burst into tears thinking "Why does everything have to suck for me right now?"


That's the moment when everything changed... when I saw through knowing eyes and heard through truthful ears. Beckett looked at me with the sweetest, most quizzical smile, and said, "It's okay, Mommy. I'm not dying."


And so, from the mouth of my babe, Wisdom. Beautiful, profound, simple truth. "I'm not dying." What could be worse than that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My sweetest little one is healthy and happy and so is his brother. Their dad, my partner and friend, the man I love is home, safe, from the other side of the world and he is loved beyond measure. Maybe there are things I'd change in my life, but the fundamentals, the stuff that really matters is all pretty awesome.


As I fell to the kitchen floor laughing, a prayer of thanksgiving in my heart, I reminded myself that yes, Life is truly good.




*Cooper's bloodwork came back showing he has a low thyroid which can cause Vestibular Disease in dogs. He started the medicine on Tuesday and by Thursday could walk on his own without my help and by today, one week from its onset is able to go up and down steps without help although he's still a bit shaky and still has a slight head tilt. He's definitely doing much better.

Rainy Days and Mondays

A big storm blew into Atlanta yesterday. Nothing, of course, compared to the gullywasher that hit Nashville over the weekend. I've been worried for my friends and family (even the cousin who isn't speaking to me and her kids), but it seems that, for the most part, my closest friends are safe and didn't have much damage.

The storm here kept our 13-year old shepherd mix, Cooper, awake from 1 a.m. on despite the Valerian Root I gave him before bed or the extra dose I gave him in the midst of the storm. I was up with him at one, two, and three o'clock. Brendan awoke at 4 a.m. and I awoke on the hour every hour until I missed 7 a.m. Beckett woke me at 7:30 so we could be 20 min. late for school. Go sleepy mom!

I feel blah and out of sorts, whether from the depressing weather or my lack of sleep. We had a great weekend so I should be totally energized. I want to write about it, especially Saturday night, but for now, I just need to get back to work and maybe catch a nap before Brendan comes home today.

Peace and Light to all.

Life is a Highway: Happy Birthday, Beckett!

"Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to You!" we sang.

"Me?" Beckett squealed delightedly as we sang, 15 or so smiling faces showering him with love and affection.

He genuinely sounded surprised and delighted, his James cake that I baked and decorated just for him, sitting before him.

It is that sweetness, that sense of wonder and delight and joy in everything he does that makes my sweet Beckett so special. Perhaps because he has been such an easy baby and toddler when compared to his beautiful, intelligent, sensitive, stubborn, Dyspraxic brother who questions everything and pushes every button, that these three years have all but flown by. Or maybe it was the distractions of a life lived more fully this time. Whatever the cause, I want my baby back. (Okay... Am I the only one who just heard that Chili's commercial in my head? Okay. Good.)



Seriously. Where did all the time go? How did he get to be so big and strong and tough. He talks constantly and makes up funny stories. He says the funniest things. He has a delightful sense of humor. He's just like his big bro in his love for all things Thomas. But he also loves animals. Especially elephants. He does the cutest impersonation of a baby elephant and insists that I be the mommy elephant.

He just moved to a big boy bed on Monday night. I got a fantastic deal on a great mattress on craigslist from an interior decorator who does model homes. And I bought his cute, old-fashioned solid wood bed at a yard sale last summer for $5. I plan to paint it, but he was eager to have his own bed like his brother instead of the crib he was still in with the side removed.

He helped me pick out dinosaur bedding for it, which I haven't ordered yet, but plan to do later this week. It will be part of his Christmas presents. The bed was his birthday gift from Mom and Dad. His brother gave him the James train (which he had already) as his gift. We encourage Brendan to give Beckett one of his toys that he has outgrown as a gift each birthday and Christmas. How long that can last, I don't know. But I love how Brendan has embraced and really gives it a lot of consideration.

All of this rumination is really, quite simply, about how much I hate the passage of time. I would have liked to have had more children. I still long for a daughter and find myself increasingly resentful of friends and acquaintances who are expecting who tell me they are having girls. Not all of them, of course. But some. I know that I don't feel like I could do the whole pregnancy thing again. Not because I feel old physically. I actually feel fantastic. But, I am regaining my body. I am more physically fit than I ever have been in my life because I started working out pretty consistently after Beckett, dropping out from time to time because of my schedule or sickness or whatever. But the idea of taking 9 months off, of getting stretched out again. I can't do it. Call me selfish. Call me vain. (You're so vain! I bet you think this post is about you, don't you, don't you?) Whatever. I am turning 40 in January. I want to own my body for once and love it.

Beckett's birthday is just another mile marker on Life's Highway that reminds me to embrace and enjoy every day, every moment. I spend way too much time locked up in sorrow and worry, anxiety and grief over my failings or loss or the failings and loss of others. All I have is now. All any of us have is now. I want to be thankful for the beautiful gifts – Scott, Brendan, Beckett, Courtney (my bestest friend) my friends, extended family, my talents, my home, my health, my faith – and let the rest of the chaff flow on down the river.

And I want my sons to live their lives filled with gratitude and joy. How can they do that if their parents don't embrace that attitude?

So, what is the best gift I can give my Beckett? A life lived fully, in love, in faith, in joy.

Happy Birthday, Little One.

Great Moments in Parenting

Generally speaking, I think Scott and I do a pretty great job parenting our two sons. We are loving, supportive, encouraging, provide structure and discipline to their lives. Every now and then, however, we have our moments when we go slightly off the range and our words or actions in relation to the boys might be called into question.

Sometimes, thanks to my short fuse, I think I'm just one perfect mom who never makes mistakes away from a call to DCS. Like the witch lady in the waiting room at Scottish Rite's Therapy Center who looked at me in horror and disbelief when I groaned loudly and exclaimed, "Beckett, I am so mad at you right now!" after Beckett stood in the middle of the waiting room and peed all over himself and the floor and then says to me, with a smile on his face, "Mommy! Pee!" In my defense, he had been potty-trained for over a month and it was the first day of his now-week-long potty strike and the fifth time that day he had wet his pants and found it amusing. So, while it should not have been put on public display probably, I do feel my frustration was warranted.

That negative moment aside, the questionable things we say and do are, as often as not, just plain silly. Like the time I told Brendan that he had to brush his teeth because the tooth fairy would not want his teeth if they were yucky and had cavities. When he pressed me on what she did with the teeth, I told him she makes necklaces with them and only wants pretty teeth. Whether he has nightmares about a Tinkerbellish lass with a ropeful of children's teeth dangling about her neck or not, I couldn't tell you, but it did – at least for a while – make him an avid proponent of dental hygiene.

Then there's the story Scott told Beckett last week when the wee one was on the verge of a meltdown because he didn't want to go to preschool. Seeing Beckett's bottom lip start to quiver when I said, "It's time to go to school," Scott took quick, evasive action before the four winds of the toddler apocalypse started to blow in full force. He said, "Beckett, you have to go to school today. This is the day the monsters come to help Mommy clean house."

Monsters? Instantly, he had Beckett's attention and mine. "Yeah. While you're at school the monsters come and they wash the walls for us. But they're kind of scary and you wouldn't want to be here while they're here."

"Oh. Otay," Beckett replied and that was that. He looked a little befuddled, but he acquiesced and came downstairs calmly and was ready to go to school. And it hasn't come up since.

I was duly impressed with Scott's quick work in diffusing the situation and even more impressed with his creativity. Which really should be no surprise considering the fact that he's a musician. But then again, I am a writer, but not nearly so quick off the cuff.

Now, however, I am dying to know about your parenting highlights? What are the funniest, weirdest, silliest, dumbest things you've said or done with your kids and how did they work out? Please share....

Trouble

I've spent the last 24 hours or so trying hard not to worry about my mother-in-law.

She's in ICU with sepsis, the result of a kidney infection left untreated. She's diabetic, and although no one has said this, I think her diabetes combined with recurring kidney stones ultimately led to this infection which has now spread to her bloodstream.

We got a call yesterday morning form my sister-in-law to let us know and have been in wait, pray, and see mode ever since.

I'm terrified. She's like a mother to me. I love her. I can't imagine what it would do to Scott to lose his mom, to my sons to lose the grandmother they adore. Beckett walks around the house asking for her; gets out my cell phone and pretends he's calling her or asks me to call her so he can talk to her.

72 hours. That's how long the doctor said it could take for the antibiotic to work. And I can't help but wonder if a small city doctor has the resources and the knowledge a doctor at a major medical facility in a large city would. Is that weird?

My mother died of sepsis in a small town hospital. I didn't even know what it was when they told me she had it. Today, I have a general idea of exactly what the doctor should be doing thanks to Google. Of course, I'm not there to ask all the questions and I think I pissed my brother-in-law off or he just thinks I'm a freak because I sent him a link to the Surviving Sepsis Campaign's guidelines for treating sepsis and asked him to discuss it with the doctor. I guess my attitude is that I may piss off the doctor, but what if I piss her off and she reconsiders her course of action and my loved one lives as a result. It would be worth it.

I'm rambling. Thankfully, I've had lots of distractions today with the boys.

I think I'll turn in now, say a few prayers, and believe that when I awake tomorrow she'll be better.

Think For Yourself

Both of my boys have been sick multiple times the last few weeks. Colds. Croup. Stomach bugs. Sore throats. Coughs. You name it, I think they've had it. So, I decided it might be in my best interest, and theirs, to give them Airborne children's lozenges to try and boost their immunity and ward off a few of these things. Doing so, led to a surprising, but apparently much needed lesson in motivating my children and understanding sibling dynamics.

As anyone who has read my blog for any time knows, I am an only child. Managing the sibling relationship is really an interesting experience for me and sometimes my methods are heavy-handed or clumsy, I think, despite always being well-intentioned.

Beckett, being the younger brother, wants to emulate everything his big brother does. It's easy to motivate him or encourage him to do almost anything I want by suggesting to him that his brother is doing it, eating something I need or want Beckett to eat, or that his brother will be where I want him to go. I forget sometimes that it will not work in the reverse fashion. Telling Brendan to do something because his baby brother is doing it works great if Brendan perceives the opportunity to be in his advantage or if it involves eating something he likes already. It's not as effective if he can't see the value of performing said task, i.e. doing what I want him to do doesn't result in getting a treat or surprise of some sort or failure to perform result in being punished.

I have trouble with this. In my mind, if your sibling is doing it, why wouldn't you want to do it? Don't you feel left out? It's the never-ceasing sense of loss only children experience, I think. Unaccustomed to sharing and frequently alone if not lonely, the only child has difficulty imagining not wanting to be included.

So, when I offered Brendan his Airborne after his brother had taken his and he refused it, my natural response was, Well, your brother took his and he liked it.

Now, I admit, I'm not fond of the Why-can't-you-be-more-like-your-brother implications of such a statement. But seriously? Why can't you be more like your brother and just politely take your damned medicine without a fight?

Brendan's response to me was one that I absolutely could not argue with. And let me tell you, it's no fun being out logicked by a five-year old. Yet, I am proud of him for his thoughtfulness in responding.

He said, Mom, it's not like we have the same brain! We don't always like the same things.

Well, duh.

Thanks for the reminder, you wee independent cuss. I respect your sense of self.

Hope

As I've mentioned before, Brendan has an uncanny way of mis-hearing or misstating things that cuts closer to the depth and essence of something than the actual word he intended or the word that is actually used.

One word he used to use and that I allowed to some extent because I loved it was rainbrella.

Several times recently, a new one has cropped up. And it's actually so accurate in its heartbreaking truth that I get teary-eyed every time he says it.

Our neighborhood is situated so that there are several different ways to access the various Interstate highways that intersect nearby. And each of those exits, we are seeing an increase in the homeless as they are pushed out of Downtown Atlanta. Brendan has recently begun to notice them and ask questions. So, Scott and I have both had opportunities to talk to him about homelessness and what that means.

What he has heard instead of home-less is Hope-less.

Mommy, he will ask, how did they get hopeless?

And I am left to explain the heartbreak and tragedies of this world while trying to hold out hope as a shiny, never-fading reality to my own child.

When he asks if we will ever be hopeless, I tell him no because we have a wide and extended family and friends who love us and who would help us if something bad ever happened to us. I tell him that this is why family is important and that he and Beckett will always have one another and they should always help and honor and support one another. I tell him nothing is more important than his family.

I tell him, and I pray that it is true, that when you have family and you love one another and treat each other with respect that you will always have a home. And you will always have hope.

Different But the Same

How is it that two children borne of the same parents, with the same essential genetic makeup, can be so very different? Night and day may be a cliché, but if the cliché fits....

This morning in the wee, wee hours, Beckett awoke in tears, gums aching with the pain of sharp new baby teeth poking through their delicate surface. At 2 a.m. I was in his room, giving him Tylenol and a bottle. He had already awoken at 12:15 screaming with what we thought at the time was a nightmare. Scott brought him into our bed where he cuddled sleepily, chewing the tail of his beloved puppy dawg and giving us the sweetest smiles. When he seemed sleepy enough I put him back in his crib and he settled in cuddling his doggie.

Just as I was drifting off while watching Conan interview a stripper bellydancer, I was snapped back to the here and now with more screaming. This time, I went in and just tried stroking his hair and he settled down, until I walked out his door to go back to bed. I thought, "He always puts himself back to sleep, so I'll just let him cry it out and he'll be fine." Ha!

He cried for over 10 min. and I couldn't take it. Even burying my head couldn't help me escape. This is entirely unusual for Beckett who has been an excellent sleeper from day one. So, I ended up, back in Beck's room. This time I brought the big guns. Tylenol. A bottle. And cuddly time.

I lifted him from the crib and we settled in the cozy blue velvet chair in his room where we sit to read before his nap every day. I just cradled him in my arms and stroked his hair and forehead while he smiled sleepily up at me and played with my face. He talked softly to him and massaged his jaw and cheekbones. Before long he was very relaxed and starting to drift off so I put him back into his bed where he settled in peacefully and was asleep almost instantly.

With Brendan, I would have been up until 5 a.m. He would never let me sit and cuddle him and ease him back into sleep. He would have screamed at the top of his lungs the entire time, taking the bottle, but batting away the Tylenol. Instead of sitting quietly and rocking, I would have had to pace the floor until I was ready to drop. Each time he quieted and I would try to sit with him or place him back into his crib, he would start screaming again. And this would repeat until I finally just gave up and put him down on the floor with some toys, lying down beside him, and praying he would wear himself out quickly.

And this went on for three years, more or less.

Why are they so different?

There are many other ways.

By this age, Brendan was playing much more independently. He was taller and thinner. Their interests, too, were very different. Brendan has always noticed details. From the time he was six months old he would look up at the sky and point out airplanes, helicopters, birds, and bugs. He would pick flowers and give them to me and point at any little thing that caught his eye and want us to tell him what it was. And he's still like that today.

Beckett could walk past an airplane parked in the driveway and not notice it I think. He's much more about the experience of things. He's very physical and wants to climb on everything, including you.

I'm just constantly amazed at how different two members of the same family can be, especially siblings. Still, they are alike in one very important way.... They both exhibit a very great capacity to show love and joy. They both love each other very much and have fun together. So for now, their differences don't really matter.

They just fascinate me. And sometimes I wonder if it's that they are so very different or if it's me who's changed.

So, I'd love to know if you see major differences in your children. Are you and your siblings different? How did those differences affect your relationship? Did your parents try to make you or your siblings more like one another or compare you?

Summer Lovin'

It seems like we've been going non-stop since school got out.

Brendan has been having swimming lessons once or twice a week. Rather than go with group lessons at the Y or the local swim club, I'm having the captain of the swim team at one of our many neighborhood pools teach him. She's very sweet and although he was afraid to put his face in, by the third lesson, he was jumping into the deep end and going under. After each lesson he has begged to stay and play in the water and we have although we're not members. I've been surprised at how easy it is to find a friend and ask if we can stay as their guests. Everyone in our neighborhood is so friendly and so willing to help a friend out. I love it here!

Beckett, too, loves the pool, which has surprised me since he hates baths. Go figure. Kids are full of surprises.

Brendan also gave me a big surprise this week. He's at a day camp at his old preschool all week. After the second day he came home and asked me who he was going to marry then proceeded to tell me the names of two of his female friends that he thought he'd like to marry some day. I have no idea where this came from, by the way.

He then decided that he preferred one of the girls to the other. The girl he picked is named Brynn and she was in his preschool class the previous two years but I don't know her well. He is so infatuated with her that he asked me if he could take flowers to her today. Yesterday, he came home and told me that he played with her during free play time and he shared his Play-Doh with her when she ran out.

I knew he was sensitive, but I had no idea we had raised such a little romantic.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. His dad is a pretty romantic guy and loves giving presents and doing thoughtful things for me. On the 10th anniversary of the day we met, Scott recorded the Beatles' song Michelle, which is my middle name and one of my favorite songs and surprised me with the recording.

And Brendan has shown that kind of consideration toward me and toward his friends in the past. At Christmas, he insisted that Scott let him buy me a small jewelry box because he thought it was pretty and he had heard me say I wanted a jewelry box before.

I thought little boys were supposed to think girls were gross at this age. Perhaps it comes of having had so many female friends since he was an infant, but Brendan shows no such misogynistic bearings as yet. Hopefully, all of this will turn into a fine respect and admiration of the opposite sex that leads him to get along well with everyone. Right now, though, it's pretty darned cute to see him crushing on his little friend and planning such grand romantic gestures when he's such a little person.

Oh! What a Beautiful Morning

I was just sitting down to blog when Beckett awoke. So, it's off to get him out of bed and dressed, then we're off to Decatur to run some errands and go to the Blue Sky Concert on the square. Hopefully, the weather holds.

And hopefully, I will be able to write more later. I want to tell you all about my garden!

Happy day, y'all!

Night People

In the immortal words of Muttley, Rattzle-frattzle-fuzzle....!!

Today was another of those days that leaves me feeling like I accomplished little and was pulled and tugged in ten different directions all at the same time.

Brendan's on spring break and we had some fun just playing this morning. But over the last few days I feel I've spent an inordinate amount of time scolding and correcting him, yelling in frustration. Beckett has also pushed all my buttons. He's a climber and suddenly every moment he's awake is spent telling him no and getting him out of trouble. He bursts into tears every time I correct him and I feel like a heel.

Of course, it's 4:35 a.m. and I've been awake since 2:00 a.m. when Brendan came into our room for the 1000th night in a row it seems. I love my child, but it is so annoying to be woken every night by someone getting in your bed. In all honesty, many nights I don't even wake up, so he thinks it's okay. When he does wake me, it's annoying. He whines, sniffles, complains about some pain or thing that's keeping him awake...any excuse to be in our bed.

Beckett's teething, so he's waking up as well right now. They were both awake at the same time. Brendan's actually having allergy problems and I've had to give him his inhaler twice and change his sheets because he coughed so hard he threw up.

Everyone's finally back in bed and asleep, except me.

I guess I should use the time to figure out how Scott and I can celebrate our anniversary tonight.

I've been depressed all day because I used to have the time, freedom, and energy to focus on my husband, to celebrate our love and spend time thinking of ways to show him that I loved him.

Oh! The Joys!

Little Acorns

I just have a boatload of randomness to throw at you today. Watch out! Here it comes!

So, first, I went to the weirdest playdate ever. Weird only because my friend left Beckett and I alone for almost an hour while she went into another room and nursed her baby. After she'd given him lunch. Then, she immediately put him down for a nap. She's nursed in front of me before and I, in front of her. I just found it a little weird. Especially when she picked the time for us to come over. I know the real point of it all was for us to hang out, but we ended up only spending about 30 or 40 min. talking while we ate lunch.

Next...

Beckett loves music and this makes me very happy. Right now he's dancing to Black Water by The Doobie Brothers. Earlier he was throwing down to some Justin Timberlake and Usher, though. It's not uncommon for him to go get his dad's harmonica and take it to him and stomp his feet and complain until Scott plays. When he wants Scott to play guitar, Beckett sits on the floor by the guitar or guitar case and slaps it while staring at his dad.

In other news, Brendan got his first pair of Crocs today. You should know I hate and am morally opposed to Crocs. I'm just not a fan of crap-tacular trends. Especially those involving really expensive plastic footwear that comes in obnoxious colors. I just cannot justify $30 for plastic shoes. In obnoxious colors. With holes in them. (Boy! Do I ever sound like a mom!) However, I snuck a shopping trip into Tuesday Morning today to look for barware for our new rec room bar and found them there. In his size. In grey. For $7.

Since the boy has been asking for them for months since all the other kids in Pre-K have them, I decided I woudl surprise him with them. Of course, it meant we had to go buy those little pins all the kids wear on them after school. Those cost more than the shoes, but I still spent less than a pair of Crocs usually costs.

Speaking of Brendan... When he walks into his classroom each morning, it reminds me of when Norm walks into Cheers. Does my son have a career as a barfly ahead of him? I don't know, but each morning when he walks into class, he is greeted with everyone cheerfully shouting, Brendan! Then several of the kids run to embrace him. And always, his friend Kush is leading the charge, followed closely by a little girl named Chloe. It's very cute. HIs teacher told me that he's the only one who gets that greeting and I really don't know what to make of it. But, it's very sweet.

Let's see...What else?

I guess there's not much else going on...I've booked some new shows for Scott. I'm doing a little work for a real estate client. Not finding enough time to work out and hating my body. But that's not news, just par for the course.

Alright. Time to cook a little dinner.

Hope everyone else is happy and healthy.

Language

Each new word a child says brings such joy, excitement, and pride to the parents. Each crude or perfect sound with decipherable meaning opens wider the door through which you and your child communicate. It's beautiful.

Beckett has been saying a couple of the basics for a while now...Mama, Daddy, Budder (Brother), ball. Yesterday he added a new one...dog. And used it in a new way that was contextually appropriate.

In our hall bath, I have a metal canister to hold the extra toilet paper and Beckett loves to carry it around and take the lid off. So, he wanders in there, picks it up, looks at me and says, dog plain as day, and then proceeds to go find his stuffed dog and sit down and start playing.

Later, I was trying to get him into the kitchen to eat his lunch, but he refused to come, preferring instead to stand in our foyer, pointing into the living room, jabbering away. Finally, he looks at me, still pointing in the living room, and says dog. Looking to where he was pointing, I see our dog Cooper standing outside on the deck looking in the French doors, ready to come back inside.

I just love this phase of a child's development, when they learn so much and each day is so full of surprises...for the child and the parent. It's just delightful.

Life Without a Cage

Beckett is at that age.

You know the one. The one where you turn your back for an instant and your newly toddling toddler has scaled the refrigerator and is standing atop it, hand in the cookie jar, and a huge grin on his face? Yeah...that's the one.

On Monday, when I was out shopping, I sat him on the counter as I fumbled in my wallet for my debit card. The salesperson told me I couldn't do that because if he fell, the store would be liable for his injuries. So, I put him on the floor beside me, his favorite stuffed doggy in hand. A moment later, I realized that he had toddled over to a shelf, picked up a teddy bear, and was running out the door of the store and into the parking lot! This, of course, came on the heels of the knife incident on Saturday, and mere moments, after I sat him on a bench outside the same store to answer my phone, and had him try to climb over the back of the bench.

Later i, I was talking to a friend at Brendan's soccer practice. She told me about her sister who has five sons. They're all grown now, or at least in high school, and thankfully, all still alive. But she said that when the second oldest of the boys was around 7, her sister went into his room to check on him and could not find him. She tore the house apart looking for him and finally found him on a shelf in the top of his closet, sound asleep.

Those of you who don't have sons are probably sitting there, mouths agape, wondering how that could happen.

Those of you who have sons are laughing knowingly.

Yesterday, after Beckett had unplugged the dock for Scott's iPhone and took off across the room, iPhone in one hand, toy microphone stand in the other, laughing gleefully, in frustrated jest, I declared, I need to put that child in a cage just to get anything done around here!

Brendan, who put me through the wringer himself at the same age, agreed. Then earnestly asked, Do we even have a cage?

Only the sibling of a 15-month old brother could agree that caging the beast is the best course of action.

Blood and Chocolate

I feel like I could sleep for a week. Maybe two.

I didn't go to bed until after 1 a.m. Beckett was up from 3:00 until 4:00. Then, I remember being up from 4:45 or so until almost 6, but I don't remember why. Brendan? Beckett? Our dog who frequently needs to go out in the middle of the night?

Am I losing my mind?

Anyway, today was our blood drive in honor of our friend's baby. I was at the donation center for over two hours waiting, watching other donors' kids, and donating. My blood flows slowly for some reason (I wonder if this would keep me from bleeding out in the event of an emergency?), so it always takes me twice as long as anyone else to give a pint of juicy red goodness.

We got home and with both boys either napping or playing quietly I slept for 40 min. The only reason I awoke then was Beckett's crying to be rescued from his crib.

If I sat still for 3 minutes and closed my eyes, I'd be asleep. It's so tempting.

I have also been starving ever since donating. No appetite at all beforehand, but now I could eat a big chunk of red meat. And chocolate. Thankfully, we have a new Greek restaurant that delivers so we'll be having takeout Gyros for supper. And then there are the truffles Scott brought us for Valentine's Day. Yum. Not the healthiest, but oh so easy. And it should quell my hankering for red meat.

Hopefully both boys go down easily and we can relax and watch the episode of Lost we missed last night and go to sleep early. Oh to dream.

It's Christmastime!

Merry Christmas, y'all!

I hope everyone is having a splendid, joy-filled day.

Santa was very good to everyone in our house. I've been so busy watching Brendan play with the Planet Heroes space shuttle and building things with modeling clay, that I haven't had a chance to play with my gifts yet.

I also have put a roast on. Since it turns out that it's just us today – we ended up having our big family Christmas in Montgomery instead of our house because my brother-in-law was on call – I'm using the Paula Deen recipe for a small roast instead of a tenderloin. We'll have mashed potatoes and green beans, too. I need to figure out a good, easy dessert that doesn't require milk since we're almost out and I don't want to try to find an open store. I'm also making some homemade bread. It's rising right now. I haven't made bread in years, so I hope it turns out okay.

So far it's a good day. I feel bad that I wasn't able to get the gift I wanted to for Scott. I wanted to give him a Wii, but as they are sold out everywhere, I simple gave him a gift certificate to go buy one when they're in. I feel bad for him that he didn't get a great gift to open today.

Otherwise, the day is really great. Brendan seems so happy and thankful for all he received and told us he was sad that Beckett didn't get anything in his stocking. Of course, Beckett prefers pulling all the sippy cups out of the drawer in the kitchen to any of his toys.

Go figure. I thought about not getting him anything, but it just felt weird.

Anyway, hope you all have a beautiful Christmas day!

Christmas in Killarney

Christmas in Killarney is probably my favorite Christmas song. I just love it. It makes me happy right down to my toes. As we've been listening to all the Christmas songs on my iPod the last couple of weeks, two have popped up as Brendan's favorites and I'm happy to say my little Irish laddie has his mama's taste in Christmas songs.

He has repeatedly asked me to play Christmas in Killarney. I have two versions, Bing Crosby's and one by the Irish Rovers. The latter is my favorite, although I will alway's have a soft spot for Bing Crosby and his version. As it turns out the Rovers version is proving to be Brendan's favorite as well.

The other song that he likes is Snoopy and the Red Baron, both the Christmas version and the original version.

That was one of my favorites and I had the single when I was around his age. Ah! Record players. Anyway, it makes me happy to share these things with him and have him react the same way I did once upon a time. I guess this is part of what Christmas is all about...sharing our traditions and making new ones.

I feel really blessed to have these two wonderful boys and their sweet daddy to be making traditions with. It's so cool to see the wonder and joy in their little faces each time they experience some new aspect of Christmas.

Good Times Bad Times

It seems like the last few days have been a right strange mixture of the good and bad.

First, on Friday evening we went to a Christmas/Hannukah party at our friends' Scott and Lauren's. It was a family party and we brought both our boys. There were a ton of kids and we all had a good time. Sadly, though, right before we left we got a call from our friend Chris telling us that his dog Sam had died. Chris and his wife Laura and their two girls are our closest friends in the neighborhood. The first ones we got to know, with two girls – one just older and one just younger than Brendan. They're really wonderful people that I have grown to care for deeply and Sam was our dog Cooper's best friend. Cooper and Sam had known each other for six years and like our other kids, were very close in age. Back when we each only had one child and for a while after Laura had two, we would take the two dogs for walks together almost every day.

Sam was a great dog. Just a force of nature, really. And Cooper loved him. He had what Scott and I dubbed the Sam Whine. Whenever Chris and Laura would walk Sam, if Cooper saw them, he would whine this high-pitched, excited whine. He didn't make it for any other dog. Not even his other neighborhood buddy, Champ. Anytime, he made that sound, we knew Sam was somewhere close by. And if we didn't see him walking down the street with his family, we knew it meant he was at our front door or in the yard. You see, anytime Sam would escape by sneaking through the gate of his family's backyard, he'd make a beeline for our house. And it worked in reverse, too. Cooper, upon escaping though a gate left open by little boys, heads straight for Sam's house. Fortunately, we're only four houses apart. But I can't number the times phone calls have been exchanged that went something like this:

Me: Hey, Laura. Have you seen Cooper?
Laura: Yeah. He's in our backyard playing with Sam. I was just getting ready to call you. He came up and stood on the porch, scratching at the door until I let him in.
Me: Awwww. Well, thanks for taking him in. I'll be up there in a few minutes to get him.
Laura: Oh, no problem. They're having fun. Just come whenever. No rush.

My favorite memory of Sam is actually from the very first time he came to our house unannounced. Cooper was whining and standing at the front door, stomping his big German shepherd feet, and going nuts. So, Scott opened the door and before you could say how do you do, Sam threw his 140-lb. self through the door and barreled through our house like a fur-covered tornado. He ran through every room in the house, scared the cat, drank all of Cooper's water and ate all his food, and just ran all over the house, sniffing everything, with Cooper following close behind. It was one of the funniest and most surprising things I've ever witnessed.

In other sad news, my best friend Courtney's grandmother passed away Sunday night. She had suffered a massive stroke on December 6, so her death was inevitable and ultimately a comfort for it means there will be no drawn out suffering. Courtney got to have a warm and loving goodbye with her Gran in a moment of lucidity and although she'll miss her, I think Courtney has a real sense of comfort and closure and knows that her Gran is now with her grandpa and the friends who went before her, so she's okay with it all. And that's actually a good place to be.

And back in happy news, Scott's set at the Krazy About Kats benefit went well and he was well-received. Pete,the comic who was on before Scott, suggested he play at one of the venues where he's a regular and got my contact information so we could follow up.

I guess that's about it. I actually have some hilarious Brendanisms to share and Beckett has added a few words to his repetoire, but I'll save all that for another post. Right now, Brendan wants to help me wrap his cousins' Christmas presents and keeps asking me what kind of Chia pet I want for Christmas. I think the answer I'm supposed to give is Scooby-Doo.

Christmas is Coming

It must just be that time of year. I just saw a Publix commercial that made me cry. Then, a bit on the Dr. Phil show promoting a Christmas special that he's hosting with his wife and hearing Christmas music made me teary-eyed.

I also have found myself gettin' crafty. Brendan wanted us all to have new Christmas stockings with our names on them, so I went to Michael's today to buy the stuff to make stockings, but decided to just buy their pre-made felt stockings because they were cuter than anything I could make (and really...Do I have time to find a pattern, cut the felt, and sew 4 Christmas stockings? I didn't think so!). I bought some glitter paint/glue and put our names on them. I also bought some stuff to make a gift or two, but won't say what they are yet so as to not give it away in case the recipients are reading the blog. I'm not usually very good at this sort of thing, but I had such good ideas that I wanted to give it a try. I've completed one of the items and think it turned out really nice!

And it's fun to think that you can give someone something that's not just personal, but that you actually put a little of yourself into. I may make a few more things I hadn't planned on if the next thing I'm working on turns out okay.

I haven't done any major shopping. I've bought a gift certificate for my mother-in-law to have a facial or a massage and I bought some bathy-type stuff for her. She's allergic to a lot of scents, but likes lavender, so that's what I got for her. I've also bought a gift for a friend. Some stocking stuffers for Brendan. No big presents for him or Beckett yet. And what do I get for Scott? It's kind of hard when I'm not working enough to make any real money. I hate spending his money on him. I love being at home with my kids, but I hate not having my own money. It totally sucks. I think about the expensive and indulgent gifts I once was able to give him when I worked and feel worthless knowing I can't do that anymore. Oh well. Someday.

Pictures of Me

I know I linked to the flickr stream, but I thought I'd just post a couple directly to the blog, too. We had a happy day that was followed by another fun day yesterday when we celebrated Christmas early with Scott's dad and stepmom up at Scott's brother's house. Again, the kids were all well-behaved and played well with one another. The food was tasty and it was a fun kickoff to the Christmas season which seems to be flying by this year.