The Shrinking Bed

Have you ever looked at your child, straight in the eyes, and realized their eyes had actually changed color a bit? That they weren't just a solid blue anymore but actually had flicks of other colors when they were in just the right light? Have you ever laid down to hug your kid long after they'd fallen asleep, and realized that the blanket doesn't seem so long anymore or maybe your child has grown a few inches since you last did that? Or stopped and couldn't remember the last time your child needed you to bathe them or help do their hair? Or when did they start needing to close the door when they went to the bathroom so they could have "privacy"?

The weight of them growing up--but especially her-- hit me square between the eyes tonight as I realized how her bed doesn't seem so tiny anymore. It makes me hope, and pray, that I've filled her to the brim with enough unconditional love and "you are enough" and "you are incredible" and "the best gift you can give to the world is through your kindness and authenticity" and "don't ever lose sight of your best friends--your sisters."

Have I taught her to be leery enough to ask questions, but trust enough to not fear? To set boundaries so that people don't walk all over her...and to live her life for her and not to please others? To be confident but not boastful? To not water her spirit and self down in an attempt to fit in? To fight for things that are truly important and walk away from the things that aren't? To be a real person...not fake...and not wishing to be someone else? To do things for the right reasons? Have I, through my actions, shown her that when someone needs a friend, even when I'm not there, she'd reach out? Have I taught her to not sweat the small stuff?

All of these questions definitely raced through my mind tonight as I kissed her (while she was sound asleep), and told her how much I loved her and to please reconsider her broken promise of growing up.

A bike ride for two please

Two of our three girlies are sleepy heads in the morning. (A little blondie with "gween eyes" may or may not be the one who tends to creep into our room in ninja-like sneakiness in the middle of the night and of course first thing in the morning.) But not yesterday...yesterday it was Big Sis for once who was the first to rise. The one who we have to practically pull out of the top bunk in the mornings.

I was getting ready to work on some of my freelance projects before needing to change the baby's diaper, start laundry, make breakfasts and take the girls to swim lessons, etc. It would not have been beyond me to have just told Big Sis to help herself to a good hour of morning TV to buy myself some time to work. Afterall, it had stormed all night and was still really wet out.

But Big Sis has become completely in love with riding her bike this summer. Once those training wheels came off, she was like a new girl! Last year she wouldn't ride at all...just too embarrassed by those pesky training wheels...and when she learned it was towards the end of the summer and things just got busier than I would have liked to admit, and she didn't get much practice in.

I decided since Daddy was home and the two Littles were sleeping, we needed a bike ride on this somewhat-rainy, definitely still muddy morning....just for the two of us. When I asked her if she wanted to go for a bike ride, she looked up at me to see if I was serious. I told her "sure, why not?"

So there we went....I had not yet brushed my teeth...had a pile of work to be done...and the weather was not ideal. But it was a chance to get some time with just my oldest sweetie. I'm trying to be intentional lately about carving out time with them and letting go of the distractions. This oftentimes means staying up later at night to work than I'd like...but it is worth it!

The bike ride was the perfect time for us to talk about what is on her mind, what she's enjoying about her summer, which friends she enjoys playing with, and what she wants to be when she grows up. Details that seem minuscule but just help me get to know her better...to connect with her.

We went on a little trail around a lake and from the rain earlier that morning, it was completely muddy and we both had muddy bikes, shoes and legs by the time we returned. She looked up at me when she accidentally went in the mud puddle and said "i'm so sorry Mama but my pink shoes may be ruined." I told her if they were ruined it was worth every penny we had spent on them because they did their job of keeping her feet safe and created a memory. Those pink target fake Converse may be going in her memory box once she outgrows them:)

But something she said on the way home solidified my decision to be more intentional about the way I spend my time with the girls. She said "I'm not going to let muddy shoes ruin my day because there's still so much day to be had."

I do get teary when I think of the hours....HOURS I have probably wasted being "checked out" during their childhood. It is hard to be "on" all the time...fully engaged and attentive. Between the Iphone or just trying to get one more work project done while they are awake or spending hours looking up how to make the perfect meal or meal plan for the week. Or just in general being pissed off that life has thrown us a bunch of lemons all year (and then more lemons after that).

But what my oldest said yesterday was spot on...there is so much time to be had still. I'm trying to find those little moments to invest in them...because seriously in one SHORT year...my oldest has grown up way to much. Second grade seemed to be the year where she got embarrassed more easily and cared what other kids thought a little more than previously, and didn't want characters (like Hello Kitty and Princesses) on her clothes or bikes or anything else anymore. And it is sort of like a two-steps-forward-and-one-step-back process so far. I am just working on when someone asks me how I am...changing the answer at least 50% of the time to something besides "overwhelmed." I'm glad there is more time to relish in their childhood and I am glad I have woken up so I can stop sitting on the sidelines and directing, and get into their worlds.

The Big Santa Question

"Mommy, is the tooth fairy real?" she whispered this morning with a shaky voice, as though she didn't REALLY want to know the answer.

Still early morning, Daddy and I had been asleep still but both heard her soft-spoken question. We both looked at each other, as if time had frozen...knowing that although we had talked many times about this moment  and what we would say, we were so ill prepared.

I looked at my girl, sat up in bed, and pulled her up to sit with me. A single tear slowly trickled down her cheek and she held up a ziplock baggy with her prized tooth she had lost in gym class the day before. (This was the first time the Tooth Fairy had not come to visit, and it was because she let us know the night before she thought keeping teeth were more important than getting money).

"Honey, why do you ask" I probed, not wanting to assume anything.

"Well my friends tell me she is not real" she replied. "So I'm wondering, if you and Daddy are the ones who take my tooth and leave me the money, and I'm also wondering what you've done with all of my teeth."

You could tell she was starting to see some logic not adding up with this whole Tooth Fairy bit...and also see her internal struggle because she still so badly wanted to believe.

We had decided long ago that if she flat out asked about any of these childhood magic traditions, we would of course be honest with her. We do not want to have any trust issues with the girls.

"Sweetie, yes, Daddy and I do take the tooth and leave your money. The teeth are all kept in your treasure box in the basement." I held my breath...hoping that was enough information and we were moving on to a less emotionally-charged topic.

She gulped....taking it all in...and you could see through her eyes that she was chewing on the information, and that other connections were being made. She asked why we had always told her the Tooth Fairy was real and we let her know that she is part of the magic of childhood. That we too had a Tooth Fairy growing up and it was all just a fun part of being a kid.

Tears streaming down at this point, she asked "So, I'm also wondering, how it is possible for Santa to fit down the chimney and go through all those kids' chimneys in one night."

We explained that St. Nicolas was real and that is what Santa is based on. Truthfully, we need to brush up on our St. Nicolas history, and told her we could go to the library to check out some books and learn more. We also reminded her and as we have always said "Santa is for fun but Jesus is for real" (we have never told her Santa isn't real...but have always put the emphases on the true meaning of Christmas being Jesus.) We want absolutely no confusion or blurred lines on what things are "fun childhood magic" and the validity and truth of the Bible and Jesus.

This is the point in the conversation where one should not have made assumptions. Like the assumption I had that if she now knew about the Tooth Fairy and about Santa, she obviously did not believe in the Elf on the Shelf elf. Wouldn't you have guessed the same thing?

I went on to tell her that now that she is on Santa's Team (I did borrow a lot of this explanation from the popular Pinterest letter about Santa), she could help make Christmas special each year for her sisters. She could help hide Buddy, our Elf on a Shelf elf, and make him do silly things to see how her sisters would react. She had a look of shock on her face when I mentioned this...."do you mean BUDDY is not real either....oh now my Christmas is ruined forever!!!!" Daddy shot me the look of death like "way to go Swift."

At this point there was not a dry eye in the bed. We all realized, she could not get back the unknowing and the magic quite the same way as it was before. She went on to ask about Disney princesses and if they were "just wearing costumes." And made the comment that "let me guess...you're now gonna tell me all those fairies than Little Sis and I see and hear are not real too"?

We told her that an imagination can be very very real and as real as we want it to be. We let her know that she was not too old to believe in all of these things and we could just all decide then and there that the conversation never happened and she never learned the truth. She very shakily through tears responded "But it can't be the same, because I actually do know, although I wish I didn't." She realized too that it was part of the bond between her and her little sisters and part of the wonder of these holidays.

I couldn't fight the tears and I was having a hard time responding at this point...I just felt so bad for her. Her little balloon burst. Part of her childhood now gone, as she was growing up. She ended up comforting me, ever the tender heart looking out for others, and telling me that it was okay and not our fault she found out. She told us that she had decided that she was going to believe and didn't want to talk about this conversation again.

And like that, she got up, got dressed, and went downstairs for some art therapy. This is one that will never be recycled. The writing on it says "Believe. Dream. Let your mind go wild. You can always believe no matter what." And, my blog title has come full circle a bit...just a touch of pixie dust.

Most Precious Mother's Day Gift

Just an hour ago all I could think about was putting the three chickadees to bed early after a fun-filled day centered around their ballet recital. While it was good day, it was not what I’d call “relaxing.” My alarm went off at 6:15 this morning to start getting myself showered and dressed and nurse the baby so that at 7am I could start getting both the big girls ready for the recital, which involved lots of complaining as I pulled their hair into tight buns on top of their heads, reminding them 120 times to “sit still” to get their makeup on, and putting trying to wriggle them into tights and hear the never-ending whining about how itchy they are. 

There was a full-length rehearsal in the morning and then the performance in the afternoon so we drove back and forth across town twice. They both did a wonderful job at the recital, and Thad and I, along with all our other family members and friends who attended, couldn’t have been more proud. But, after dinner, I was just plain beat, and could think of nothing other than a warm bath or vegging in front of the TV with a glass of iced tea. I just wanted some “me” time. 

Right after I finished feeding Norah, Gabrielle came into the nursery and said quietly, while looking down at her feet, “Mommy, I need to talk to you.” After laying Norah down in our room, I came back to the nursery and asked her “Honey what is it” (thinking this was another stall tactic to delay bedtime). When she looked up, it was obvious that she had been in deep 6-year-old thought, and she burst into tears and sobbed to me “I just wish our family could be together forever.” I asked her what she meant and she explained between sobs “I know heaven is good, and we all have to go, but I’m sad that I won’t be with you forever.” You could tell this had been bothering her for a while, and really tugged at her heart. 

I, of course, started crying at this point too because I didn’t have words to comfort her and the thought of ever not being with my girls strikes an emotion I don’t like being in touch with. She explained that she knew that when people go to heaven (like Grandpa Jack) they can look down on us and live in our hearts but she would be so sad if she couldn’t see or cuddle us anymore. Then she started again (this has been a topic brought up a lot lately) talking about how she knew Summer would go to heaven before the rest of us and she didn’t know how she could ever say goodbye to her life-long (canine) friend. 

I explained to her that the most important thing is the memories we make while we all are here on earth together, because no one can take those memories away from us. I also told her we would be together for a very long time, I was sure. She wondered why God has family members go to heaven at different times instead of letting us all go at once. She said she wished we could wait until Norah was bigger and all hold hands and go to heaven together. 

While I didn’t have solid answers for her, and really REALLY wished I was better versed in scripture, I sat her on my lap in the rocking chair in Norah’s nursery (which was Gabrielle’s when she was a baby), and rocked her, and we talked, and both cried, and cuddled. I told her how much I love her and how proud I am of her being a big sister and what a kind, sweet child she is. She told me that she remembers when she was a baby meeting me for the first time and “when I looked up and saw you Mommy, I thought you were perfect.” 

I do a lot of complaining lately with all the demands of two little girls and a 10 week old princess. But tonight I have the wind knocked out of me in a big way. I. AM. SO. BLESSED. Beyond measure. There is not a spare moment of sanity around our household lately. Between midnight feedings with Norah, and the general madness of raising three little girls…there is nothing…NOTHING as sweet as being told how happy your child is to have you as a mommy and be a part of this family. This blog entry didn’t do the moment justice, but I needed to do my best to capture it. I could not have asked for a more precious Mother’s Day gift.

That's a Lot of Sewin'!

Before I forget to scrapbook this one...

This week (34 weeks pregnant), I've been having more contractions than I'd like, which have led me to extreme paranoia that Princess #3 will be born too early. Both girls were early (Gabrielle 2 1/2 weeks and Corinne 3 weeks) so early would be the norm, but I'd love to get as close to 40 weeks as possible this time. For a number of reasons. Is it selfish if a few of those reasons are work related??? But the most important reason is for the baby's health...I just want to give her lungs as much time to develop as possible and in my belly seems to be the best spot for that to take place (although she is definitely running out of room in there). I laughed to Thad yesterday that my bellybutton may actually turn inside out this time...that would be a first! I'm usually an "innie" even through pregnancy but the "well done" button is about to pop!

Anyhow, my midwife has advised me to try and "lay low" and since my work consists mostly of computer time, that is fairly easy...in theory...except when the girls get home from school/Danielle's. Then of course I need to get dinner on the table, take them to dance, swim lessons, or Daisies, bath them, get them ready for bed, etc. etc. etc. I find I go up and down our stairs at least 15 times in the course of one little evening.

Thad had let the girls know they needed to be "Mommy's helpers" and not ask for a different meal when one is in front of them, not ask me to run and get them things upstairs when they are perfectly capable, etc. With his late work hours he is doing his best to train them to be helpers.

I had just put dinner on the table last night and let the girls know I was going to go upstairs and shower and to work on giving each other compliments while they eat their dinner. Then-- the fighting began. I wasn't in the shower more than two minutes when upstairs came G. "Mommy...I just told Sissy when she smiles it lights the whole room up...and all she did was smile back at me!" (What was she supposed to do...stick her tongue out? She's 3!).

I told her (or shouted perhaps...) "Get downstairs...and STOP FIGHTING!" I finished up my shower in record time, got my robe on, and headed downstairs to sit on the couch and stew while refereeing the back-and-forth bickering. I wanted a Mommy break...bad.

Still at the dinner table, G then asks "Mommy...remember that very bad dream I had while in Disney?" She had a dream in Disney that "Mommy's belly was empty and Baby Sister was in heaven." I told her "Yes, I remember...but sissy is fine and will be okay." This dream apparently was very real to her as it took me a while to sooth her in Disney that this dream was not true.

Then, seeming satisfied that she trusted I was right and Sissy was safe, G says "Mommy, how does God make babies?"

(Gulp)...Thad not being home to defer to I start "well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much..." G cuts me off..."yeah, yeah, yeah, I know all about that part" (which she doesn't).

"I mean how does GOD make the babies."

Whew...so glad it was a more theological response rather than physiological one she was wanting. We'll save the birds and bees talk for another day in at LEAST 10 years! Trying to come up with an answer to satisfy her curious mind I tell her "Well, according to the Bible, God knits each baby in the mommy's womb...and a womb is a belly. Knitting is like sewing with a needle and thread. So God picked all your parts, like your eye color, your sweet nose, your two ears...everything! He cared enough to choose it all."

G smiles, seeming content with this answer. Then responds (still mulling over the information), "Wow that is a LOT of sewing!!!"

Happy 6th Birthday My Sweet

Wow...6 years ago my life truly changed. Everything I had thought, hypothesized, and assumed about motherhood was thrown out the window on December 28th, 2005, at 3:04pm. I had always loved children, which is why I wanted to become a teacher, so it seemed motherhood would be a very natural fit. I knew your Daddy would be an amazing father...he was great with children and very patient.

From the time we decided we were ready for a baby, it was just...well....difficult. Conceiving you was far from easy. There was about a year where I thought I would never get the opportunity to become a mother. It definitely made me realize that you can't take things for granted. I was thrilled to become pregnant with you! I wanted to make sure everything was just perfect before you arrived!

Not wanting a December baby (since I myself am one), we tried to do everything we could to avoid getting pregnant during that time. Right after I saw the two pink lines we learned you were due on Friday, January 13th. "Whew...missed December by several weeks," I thought.

However, you had other plans and were ready to greet the world a few weeks early, squishing your birthday right between Christmas and New Years. The nurses let me know I should be elated that there was a tax credit since I had her before January, but all I could think of was the forgotten birthday for the rest of your life, trying to live up to the holiday madness. Nonetheless, you were healthy and that was the most important thing.

Meeting you for the first time...I thought you were perhaps the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I assumed all babies looked just like you when they came out...perfect. And from the time we left that hospital room in Mesa Arizona, to the next 12 months, there were many days I failed to see that beautiful creature through all the sleepless nights and days we had to go to the pediatric urgent care for high fevers, viruses, reflux, and ear infections. I wondered at times if maybe I actually wasn't actually cut out for this role as mother because you screamed the bulk of the time and I don't handle noise especially well...screaming babies in particular.

Thankfully, some Prevacid (for reflux) and ear tubes later (after 13 ear infections in 13 months) we got to see your personality emerge and I finally started to form a bond with you. Your personality was so sweet...very tender from the start. It was a relief to see you happy and settled.

As you grew, your personality was infectious! Moving back to IL where your grandparents and aunties and uncles could love on you was a good decision. You were invited to sleepovers with Mimi, and movies with Papa, and got to meet many new friends.

Starting Kindergarten this year was a huge milestone, and one that I was surprisingly not quite ready for. The control freak in me wanted to box you up and keep you just for us...I didn't want that sweet spirit crushed. You are so sensitive which can be a double edged sword...always looking out for the underdog and making sure kids aren't picked on or left out, but getting your feelings hurt regularly.

You are so observant and never miss a beat. All the the things in nature we adults seem to gloss over in our busy mad rush to do this and finish that, you don't miss. You appreciate the small details in nature and in people alike. You love fashion and anything related to fashion which has definitely been an obstacle in trying to get you ready for school (or church, or any other place). The outfit has to be just "perfect" and only 1 outfit a day just wouldn't do...we have to have a different outfit for each setting.

You are a wonderful Big Sister and though you and Little Sis have your squabbles, you are the first one to stand up for her when someone hurts her feelings or doesn't share. You are so good about praising her when she does the right thing or learns something new. I know you'll be a great Big Sis to Baby Sister once she arrives too.

You and I can be like oil and vinegar...and your Daddy always laughs and says it is because our personalities are so much alike! But I couldn't survive without my little partner in crime. I love you from the bottom of my heart and couldn't be prouder of my big 6-year-old girl! Happy birthday sweetie...you fill our hearts and home with joy beyond measure.

Mommy

Mayday, Mayday, we have a problem here!

And indeed we do have a problem. A serious one. A spoiled-rotten-child one. A "mommy is wrapped around my little finger" one.

Miss Corinne Kennedy is exactly who I'm talking about. She seems to be the one running the show around our house lately. As a rule of thumb, I've always been a little leery of youngest children. I do have quite a few friends who are "youngests" but most of these don't follow what I consider the normal "youngest child" patterns. I always said I'd never spoil my youngest or make it so they felt a sense of entitled. And then came Corinne.

I don't know if it is that huge potbelly she sports, or the fact that she's still so attached to her belly button and forever has her finger in there, or the way she talks with that little lisp, or maybe even the way she says "Mama, I need some cuddles" at least 3 times a day. I just can't pinpoint where we went from "sane mama" to "completely irrational, wrapped around her child's finger" mama.

The little terror has been waking up at 6:30am (a forbidden deed in this house) and waddling into our room with her "nigh-nigh" cuddled up by her nose and binkey still in and as loud as she possibly can saying "Mama, Daddy, I AWAKE...I watch some Toons?" When we tell her to go take her diaper off, go potty, put her undies on, and put her "BB and guy" away, she always responds "just one more sniffy?" Translation: She doesn't want to stop loving on "nigh-nigh."

She still only wants to wear dresses but is very choosy even about the dress she wears. She wants to do everything by herself, even dress herself (which leads to her undies being on backwards and giving herself a wedgie at least 99% of the time). Very independent.

She is very excited about her first Disney trip coming up and can't wait to "meet Snow White." Every time there is an airplane (or even helicopter) outside, her whole face lights up and she says "Mama, they going to DISNEY!" To her anyone on a plane is headed to meet Mickey. I think she may POSSIBLY be as excited as G and I are for this trip.

She loves her Big Sis and has a melt down every time G goes somewhere that C can't come with. Even while G was in swim lessons this week, C was throwing a fit to "give Sissy one more hug and kiss."

And perhaps it is simply this age I'm in love with and wish I could bottle. As many 2 1/2 year old melt downs and tantrums and whining we have, I love that this age is the discovery of everything new! I also love the way she is still learning how the English language works (for example "Where is her going" or "Can I go outside and play with she?").

I will be a bit sad when this age is over...but realize I'm fortunate enough to get to do it all over again with #3. If ONLY I didn't have to endure the first 15 months of the child's life that were so rough with both of the first two.