Teen Time

The other day my oldest officially turned into a teenager. And even though we've been calling her a teenager for quite a few months now, somehow the actuality of that day was still very momentous.

I just can't believe we are already entering this chapter of parenting. It's so cliche, but it really does seem like just a short while ago that she was a toddler running around the house in princess shoes and my biggest worry was getting her to eat all of her chicken nuggets before she was off and running again.

These past few months have been quite a ride getting used to having a teenager in the family. She's always been an amazingly responsible person so we had little reason to worry. To some extent this is still the case. Now she's grown into a beautiful young lady, and with all the recent growth has come a strong sense of what she wants and who she is. At least what she wants and who she is today. And to a teenager, all there really ever is is today.

That's the hardest part. Knowing, and constantly reminding her, that she's not done growing up yet, even though she thinks that she is. Today she's way smarter than she ever has been in her life, but she's still got a ways to go.

Just don't tell her that.

Lately we've had to "get real" about who her friends are and where they go in their free time. Especially when she makes new friends, which it seems like she's doing every single day. The simple act of making new friends is taking on a whole new dimension.

We've also recently had to respond to requests from the school about not respecting the dress code. This I fear may never end with this child. She has always had more fashion sense than I could fathom a child her age could have. And she truly walks the line in this area.

Point in case: our recent visit to a college campus had us seeing the image of our daughter everywhere we looked, just a few inches taller and more make up on their faces. Honestly that was about the only visible difference.

What a reality check.

And I think she sees this too. She looks in the mirror and sees an almost fully grown person. On the outside that is. But what she forgets is that she's still very young, especially on the inside, compared to where she's headed down the road.

On the inside she still a little girl that needs to be nurtured, encouraged, guided, and also disciplined. Teenagers seem not to realize the simple fact that we still need to parent them. In fact recently she accused me (via text) of "supervising" her too much. HA. That's a good one.

She's just going to have to get used the new routine. What we teach her now is more important than she will realize for at least another 20 years. Discovering your mistakes and learning from them is a weekly if not daily routine as a teenager.

So now here we are trying to absorb all this into our parenting style. And it is hard to swallow.

Especially when conversations often end with "are we done?" and a march back to her room with a firm door closing.

Sigh.

I want my baby girl back.

I want to only worry about weather she eats her breakfast or drops it on the floor, or whether or not she takes her nap.

Those worries I can handle.

But, like I told her when I held her tight and gave her a big birthday hug, she's still my baby girl. She'll always be my little girl, no matter what.

So here are my birthday wishes for my new teenager.

• May you always be able to effortlessly make new friends.
• May you never forget that your "old" friends are the ones that know you best, expect the least, and will put up with the worst.
• May you always walk the line in life between being adventurous and being safe, but all the while respect the rules, even if you don't agree with them.
• May you always be open to encouragement and guidance.
• May you realize that making mistakes are an important part of life, as long as you continue to learn from them.

I love you baby girl.

Nine and change

This ode to my newly minted 9 year old is a slight bit overdue, considering her birthday was three weeks ago. But also considering that I didn't get any of these written last year, I'm doing pretty good for this year.

Turning nine this year proves that my middle child is quietly sneaking up on us. It's hard to be sandwiched in the middle, living in the shadow of an older sister and in the after-math of a whirlwind of a little brother. Given that so much parental attention needs to follow the oldest as we all explore unchartered territory (middle school...need I say more?) and also follows the youngest as we continue to work on discipline and respect (and responsibility...and following directions...and using words instead of actions...and...).

Luckily for our middle child, she is very different from her brother and sister, who are very alike to each other. Our younger daughter stands in her own light, which she casts into that shadow of her older sibling. And she has unbelievably strong roots so as not to get blown away in that whirlwind from her brother.

With what I like to call an "old soul", our daughter has the ability to connect with us in ways that her siblings do not. It's in the look in her beautiful blue-green eyes, it's in the curve of her smile, it's in her recognition and connection with us about the craziness that goes on around us all in a family of five.

She just "gets it"; she understands that we all have to wait our turn for certain things. And better yet she knows that making other people happy is sometimes as good as - or better - than making ourselves happy. This is something that a lot of kids don't learn until they are out of college...or ever.

And just when I'm worried about her not being silly enough and embracing her childhood, she'll take her silly putty and shape it into mustache and place it on her face, waiting to surprise the next person that looks at her.

Though she can still very often be reserved in her behaviors (much like her painfully shy days of preschool), she quietly moves forward in life. Without us even realizing it, she will master a new skill like skateboarding, or she will run for class representative in her 3rd grade class - and get elected.

In fact, she forgot to tell us about her classroom election for 3 days.  In one single day she decided to run, wrote and delivered a sensible - and a little bit silly - speech, and then won the election in her classroom. And then she just sort of let life go on as normal, remembering to tell us about it all several days later.

So here's to you my newly minted nine year old - my birthday wishes for the next year.

• May you always shine your own light and glow in the knowledge that you are special and unique and deserving of every bit of attention that flows your way.

• May you always have strong roots and and continue to build a foundation of love, respect and patience, both from others, and from and within yourself.

• May you never loose sight of the value of a little silly behavior, keeping you young at heart.

• May your quiet strength and confidence continue to grow and flourish through the years.

I love you sweet pea.

An Even Dozen

Somehow the clock ticked right by number 11 and struck midnight.

I have been sadly absent from this blog for a while, but I'm determined to pick it back up and let it carry some memories through time so that I will remember life's little - and big - moments far into the future.

Last year my oldest daughter turned 11 and this blog was left waiting. Now she turns an even dozen years old, and I'm compelled to capture it in writing once again. So much has happened, and yet so much remains the same.

She's still singing her way through her days, only now it seems to be with more volume and gusto. Or maybe it just feels that way sometimes.

She's still a very responsible and caring young lady. She helps around the house (now being the official owner of chores), she tends to her younger siblings much to their delight, and she is always on time, ready to go before just about anyone else in the house.

And yet other things have changed. While she's always enjoyed venturing out into the world and discovering friends and fun moments in life, now she seems to be spending more time "out there" than inside the house. Her school days are long, and her weekends are spent hanging out with friends as much as she can possibly squeeze into her - and our - schedule.

She's in middle school now, and she's walking the line between the safe comfort of her family and home, and the excitement of a new social world that includes BFFs, fashion fascinations, instagram, and school dances. But she still knows that no matter how much fun she has "out there", there's always her family waiting anxiously to welcome her return to our home.

Another new thing this year has been the addition of a cell phone into her life. Much to her father's chagrin, her face is often glowing with that familiar blue haze from her iPhone, and her eye contact has been much more limited. Her laughs and chatter are still there, but often they are directed at no one in particular as she reads something silly, or we find out she's not actually talking to us but instead to a friend on the other end of her phone. We often get "shushed" in the name of cinematography as she captures her own life through videos that she authors and edits with surprising savvy.

Even with that difficult task of balancing this whole process, she handles it all beautifully. She respects our rules and embraces our good old fashioned fun. She shares her knowledge of all things virtual, and never hides or lies about anything (as far as I know!). There is no eye-rolling or heavy sighs; if she's upset about something she walks away and takes time to herself, or openly talks (and cries) about it with me. And through our talks she quietly learns from my soft lectures and shared life lessons, often surprising me when she recites back the things I try to teach her as she finds her way down the path of life.

To put it simply, we couldn't be more proud of how gracefully our oldest child is aging.

 So here's to you, my sweet child, as you celebrate an even dozen.

• May you always embrace the sweet music of life, harmonizing with it's melodies and raising the volume when the passion strikes you.
• May you always take life seriously enough to be responsible and on time, but never so much that you no longer laugh at the silly moments with those near and dear to you.
• May you always listen quietly, talk openly, and learn swiftly.

Next stop...teenager.

Five and a Day

Yesterday my son turned five years old. All day I kept trying to remember to write my 'ode' to him, but all day I got distracted with party planning. Both my work parties and his upcoming party. So while his birthday was very much on my mind yesterday, this blog was not.

Alas, the clock ticks by and now he's five. And a day.

I'm not sure what to make of it all really. It seems like just yesterday that he was a baby. But then again, I can hardly remember him being a baby at all. I have to conjur up images from photographs sometimes just to get the memories flowing.

The last five years have been a blur of growth spurts (when oh when will I stop needing to by new clothes and shoes every 3 months!?!), skinned knees, cups of chocolate milk, light sabers, torn up pants, baseballs, smiles, swords, worn down shoes, legos, laughs, more chocolate milk, some tantrums, more weapons of any kind, and of course some tears too.

Now I think I realize why I do so much clothes and shoe shopping for him. He's ruthless on his rags and the holes are endless.

Our son is such a whirl of constant activity that at times I wonder how he doesn't get dizzy. Or tired. At all.  He really just has "on" and "off". And when he's "on", there's no stopping him.  When he's "off" there's no waking him.

He has brought such a new dynamic to our family over the years. He has formed a special relationship with each of his sisters. Each one unique in it's own right. But still he's a little brother through and through. He fools us into thinking that he's much older than he is, since he keeps up with all kinds of conversations and happenings throughout our family.

But then he'll cry because he doesn't understand that his birthday party is actually two days later than his real birthday. And cry again after school because his friends didn't bring him presents, even though we've explained that the party is not for another two days.

And that's when we remember that he's only five, and he should be treated as such.

He still deserves to get all the cuddles he can stand (which is a lot, believe me), a kiss on every skinned knee, and a sweet lullaby every night. Even if the lullaby requested is Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Which it often is.

After all, he's just five years old. And as much as he seems older, and as much as he may try to keep up with his older sisters doing everything they do, but better, we need to remember that he deserves an energetic, carefree, creative and loving childhood.

So here's my birthday wishes to you, my last baby.

• May you always move in the direction you want and never let anything stop you.
• May you always get the well-deserved sweet rest that you need so that you can keep forging ahead in life.
• May you always appreciate the love and attention of your older sisters and know that you are special to all of us in the family, each in a unique way.
• May you always seem wise beyond your years.
• May we all never forget to let you simply enjoy your childhood, embracing every laugh, every tear and every new step.

I love you sweet little man.

She's Seven

Today is my middle child's birthday. She turned seven years old.

Lucky number seven. Lucky for so many reasons if you ask me.

I feel lucky to have such a wonderful person in my world. She is so full of life, so kind and loving. Over the past few years she has shown us all so much more of her personality. She's found her voice and her comfort zone and she's not going back.

Gone are the quiet and shy days of the past. In fact now most days she is not at all quiet. Rather loud I'd say. She can let out a wail with the best of them, just to make sure you are paying attention. I keep telling her she can't 'cry wolf' all the time or else I won't know when she's really hurt. So as if to prove a point, last week she had an incident that created our first accident-based doctor's visit, a near-miss with stitches. And did she cry? Not a bit. She just calmly walked up to her dad and said she got hurt. No wailing, no tears. But a lot of blood.

I guess I was wrong. There are some quiet moments in her life.

She also quiets down when she's being serious. Serious enough to tell me that she's sad about someone else being sad. That it hurt her 'on the inside' when she saw her friend get hurt.

And she's rather quiet when she's working away on an art project. Not one for video games, she'd rather do hands-on stuff. Her brother and sister could probably sit in front of a screen all day. But not her. She's got to get up and get out. Get working on a project or playing a game or sport.

I also think this year is lucky number seven because she's sort of catching up to her big sister for a little bit. For the next year or two they will share some really fun times. Right now they are loving being the girls in the family, and we have so much fun when it's 'girl time'. She adores her big sister, and tells her so. She absolutely radiates when her big sister is being sweet and nice and playing with her. She seems to know how important she is in this duo, even if her older sister isn't even aware of it yet.

So here are my birthday wishes for you this year, my little love.

• May you always have your voice, and may it always be heard, whether loud or soft.
• May you always stay calm and resist the panic, even in moments of fear or confusion.
• May you never lose your empathy for those around you.
• May you always get up and get out, taking full advantage of all that life has to offer.
• May you always realize how important and loved you are, even when it's not stated out loud.

Happy 7th birthday big girl.

Double Digits Baby

Today marks a full decade of life for my oldest daughter.

A decade. TEN years.

It doesn't sound like that old for an age. But in and of itself, it's a long time. A lot can happen in ten years. And a lot has, especially for her.

We have so enjoyed watching over her as she has found her way through those years. From making her first friend to having her first sleepover. From learning her ABCs to powering through the Harry Potter series. From hanging on to me at every good-bye to being ready to go to school before I'm even ready to leave the house.

Now she wants her own email address, calls to schedule time with friends, and makes herself her own snacks. Her growing independence is s source of great pride and sadness all at once. It means

new endeavors. New challenges. More successes, but inevitable failures. And in it all a whole lot of life lessons.

So far those lessons have taught her how to be a very caring and thoughtful girl. She helps out her younger siblings and even her friends. Her teacher has remarked that she is always someone to be counted on to help out in class and not complain if he pulls her away from something to lend a hand or to help make a situation more fair for all the kids involved.

And those ten years have also taught her to be embrace life's littlest moments. No matter where or when she can be heard singing a song, humming along in happiness. And what other people may call trash, she calls an opportunity for a new piece of art. Her creativity has clearly taken the lead in her life. Singing, music, art. Anything that lets her express herself in her own terms.

And now she is working on finding her own voice, and then listening to it. She has learned that she has the tendency to agree to things simply to make someone else happy, even if its something she doesn't want to do. She is learning that she has to be the one to find her own happiness and that it doesn't only come through making others happy.

To my oldest child. Here are my 10th birthday wishes for you.

• May you always be kind to others, taking the high road even when others try to lead you down the other path.
• May you always seize the day and always find something to sing about.
• May you always be able to give a voice to your inner needs and desires, learning that through your happiness you will also find a joy in making others happy.

Welcome to double digits, baby.

Marching On

I really need to get back into writing. I miss it so. The long list of things to do just keeps getting longer, and I really do think we all need to revisit those things that live at the bottom of our lists.

Those tend to be the things we should do the most. The more meaningful things that give us that shot in the arm that we need to start working our way down the list again, starting with the neediest items that we don't want to do but have to do. Those items that take up all our time so we never actually get to the bottom of the list.

Maybe I'll cut my long list into single items, put them in a bucket, and pick them out randomly. After I finish one I get to pick another. And then it's up to fate which ones get done every day.

I need to think about that some more. I think I might be on to something there.

I also need to think about my kids more. Which was the point of this blog when I started it.

It's time for a little catch up.

While things have changed around here, a lot has remained the same.

My oldest is still flittering about in the clouds most days, much like she has over the last several years. I admire her for it really. She has a beautiful mind that keeps growing and expanding and wrapping itself around life's most creative moments. In any given hour you will find her singing her way through her homework or the shower. Or through getting dressed or cleaning up. Or just about through anything these days. And she's now writing her own songs in a book. Perhaps you'll see it on MTV one day in the story of her musical life.

She's often found taking random items, which would otherwise be trash to me, and turning them into treasures. Boxes, bags, paper tubes, what have you. They become beds, homes or accessories for the little creatures in her life that are embodied by her stuffed animals. She's learning more about herself every day, and more about life too. She's really growing up into a beautiful young lady, inside and out.

And yet she still believes in Santa and the Easter Bunny. I hope that lasts a while longer, but I fear it won't.

Our younger daughter has changed the most over the past year or two. She's finally found her voice. She went from the quiet and shy girl that barely said "boo" to anyone, to the little spunky girl that now requests playdates and sleepovers and doesn't want to be picked up from after care.

Although the down side to this is the adjustment that we've all needed to make. She went from radio silence to a blaring bull horn that demands to be heard. Which, as you might imagine, can make for a rough transition for mom and dad. And teachers. I've always tried to "catch" my kids while being good. But I'm thinking maybe we didn't catch her often enough, being the one that was so quiet and sweet, and now she's going to make us catch her one way or the other.

It's not that bad. Just loud. And full of passion. She can be too quick to fly off the handle at all of us. But I think it's an expression of everything she's been holding in for so long. She never learned how to express herself in the right way. Now she's flooded with things to say and needs to learn how to process and sensor it all before it comes out. And that's a tough thing to learn. And to teach. But we're working on it.

In other areas she's still the same sweet girl she always has been. Loves to be outside. Chooses physical activity over screen time almost any day. Still so loving and caring to her little brother. And incredibly responsive to positive attention from her older sister. She craves that attention and we're working on getting more of it for her these days.

Now my youngest is probably the one that still rides the same waves. He's still a blur of activity and motion. Still can chatter away about the inane. Still loves to love. The spontaneous "I love you"s and hugs and kisses just melt me every time.

That boy's got my number. Quite frankly he's so damn adorable that he's got a lot of numbers these days. And I see a lot of that in his future too. Digits. Gonna get lots of digits.

It's fun to watch him learn and grow. He still loves to keep up with his big sisters. In fact he painted his own nails the other day.

And he just about refuses to go to sleep without his big sister in the room with him where she usually sleeps. Which will be more difficult to manage if we start getting her the sleepovers she's looking for these days.

As always, we are enjoying the laughs, we are annoyed by the annoyances, and we are relishing every loving moment we can get.

We continue to take deep breaths at the end of every day, because we know that no matter what time marches on. Sometimes with loud thunderous stomps, and sometimes with quiet little steps. But it's marching nonetheless.

Four by Four

Today is my son's fourth birthday.

How the time flies.

Before our very eyes he is turning into a little kid. Not so much the toddler anymore. Certainly not the baby he used to be, but of course he will always be my baby.

While it has been a while since I have regularly posted, not so much has changed with our little guy. Last year I wrote that he was fast, furious and fun. Those still stand true today. Of course he is many other things as well.

He is full of energy and enthusiasm. So much so that I often get tired just watching him. And I am always tired trying to keep up with him.

He is in one moment quiet and shy, stuck to my side, and the next waving to me as he runs by to keep up with all the big kids.


He is entirely too demanding. But I guess that is part of being young and innocent. He has no knowledge that things won't just appear in front of him the second that he asks for them. And if you ask me he'll have plenty of time to learn the value of hard work later on in life.

He is more loving than I have ever known a small child to be. There are the more overt shows of affection, like when he comes running up to me at school pick up with a big smile and throws his arms around me. But some of my favorite loving moments are those that are least expected. Like when he was watching the birthday candles on his cake burn and I bent down to be next to him while we sang Happy Birthday. He saw me right there and just impulsively turned to face me and put both hands on my cheeks and pulled my face into his so we were nose to nose with big smiles on our faces. It was like he couldn't help but do it. And I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with warmth inside. His love is truly palpable at times.

It goes without saying that his smile still fills my heart with joy. His laugh is still the most precious thing in my world.

And he is still the most challenging little bundle of energy and love in my life.

So here are my birthday wishes for my son this year.

May you always have the energy to face all of life's challenges head
on, never regretting that you could have done more.

May you always remember your roots and appreciate your foundation, but
never feel too shy to get out and explore what the world has to offer.

May you always demand the most, expect the best, and know that you deserve it all.

May you always show and share your love with those that make you happy, and
know that it will come back to you many times over if your heart stays
genuine.

Happy birthday my littlest love.

Ode to Me

Almost a half a year has flown by since I last posted to my blog.

Poor lonely blog.

Alas, yesterday was Mother's Day and I'd be remiss if I didn't post something about the momentous occassion, given the name of my blog and all.

I have to say that lately being a mom has been hard work. Well that's sort of a silly statement, eh? When isn't it hard work? But lately it seems like there's just not enough time in the day/week/month/year to really be the kind of mom I'd like to be.

I am now a working mom, so time is limited and moments with my kids are precious. I want to get the most out of each interaction with them because I know I'm getting fewer of them these days.

Perhaps that's why I don't want to wipe another butt.

Or remake another lunch because there was too much peanut butter on the sandwich.

Or dry another tear that was brought on by the word "no".

Or perhaps it's just because I'm so tired from spreading myself out like a giant trampoline so I can catch them every time they come back down from their lofty lives in the heart of childhood. Where whatever you need or wish for magically appears in front of you simply by saying the words "mommy, can I please please please?".

And when they do come back down into my safety, I propel them out there once again, putting a little wind behind them and knowing full well they will fall my way again. And that I'll catch them again, and push them back out there another time, in endless repetition.

At least for now it's endless. I do know the end is out there somewhere. It's just not visible right now.

And hence the feelings of endless unappreciated hard work which leads to a bit of exhaustion. We know we are doing this job for a reason, it's just that we aren't sure our kids know we are doing this job for a reason. Sometimes it feels like we are just here for their whimsy. Like they don't even notice all this constant support and love we are providing solely for their benefit.

And then sometimes something comes along that tells us they really do see us. That they have indeed been quietly watching us all along. Watching what we do out in the world and in our own homes.

Here's what my oldest daughter wrote in her Mother's Day poem at school. My first Mother's Day poem by the way.

If you know me at all you'll agree that she sees me. And if you don't know me, after reading this, you will.

Jessica

Great looking, nice, pretty, creative.

Taught me how to cook.

Helps me with my homework.

When I'm sad, she tells me to take a deep breath and helps me with my problems.

I am happy whenever she's with me.

Party planning, cooking, loving, volunteering.

Mom

Happy Mother's Day to me.

And to all those woman out there that mother anyone or anything with selfless love and endless effort.

Six so soon?

Today is the 6th birthday of my middle child. Otherwise known as my younger daughter and the only child that gets to be both "big" and "little" sister in our family.

What a year this has been for her. I can't even begin to adequately describe the growth that she has embraced over the past 12 months.

A year ago she was still reluctant to let us go when saying good-bye. It was just about the time that she was finally not crying anymore, but she wasn't running off to be with her friends either. She was doing the silent good-bye without looking back for fear that she would see what she would be missing.

Nowadays, we can drop her at school and she'll give us a little smile good-bye as she waltzes right into class. She started Kindergarten this fall, and although I haven't written about it, the experience has been wonderful.

We were worried that she didn't know anyone and weren't sure how she would be socially adapting to a new school and a new group of friends. But she was fine. Absolutely great in fact. She soon learned to love school and reported playing with a couple of friends. Boys, of course. And those couple are still her friends to this day.

She also started going to an after-care program after school. After a rough first day, she adjusted and soon learned to love the extra arts and crafts time too. As well as seeing those same two buddies for a little longer. Now she stays the full day and has never once complained. She really does love exploring this new little world she lives in.

This past summer she went to her first camp. She never before wanted to go to a camp. But this year she did a basketball camp with one of her friends. And she had a great time. Not a single problem dropping her off, never a complaint. Then later in the summer she was at the same camp that I volunteered at for the Girl Scouts. Her older sister went off to her group, I went off to mine and she and her brother went off to theirs. And she loved it. She really loved it. I have to say I think she even ruled the roost a little bit in her group. She was the oldest (not by much) and it was right up her alley; tons of arts and crafts and playing in the dirt.

It's like she's really starting to have fun with her childhood. For so many years she seemed to have one of those worry clouds over her head. Not really so much at home, but definitely when she went out into the world. But slowly that cloud has disappeared over the past year. And I like to think it's being replaced by one of those big yellow happy faces.

A few weeks ago she had another first. She was invited to a friends party at a little kids gym place. Do you happen to remember my stories about her going to friends' parties in the past? The way she would cling to me? The time we actually had to leave the party because there were too many people and too much noise? Well this time she went right in. Joined the group and never looked back. In fact, my husband took her and he ended up leaving her there while he went out and "ran a few errands". Probably at Starbucks. And she was great! She had so much fun she has asked to go back there to play. And asked. And asked.

Over this past year she has really adjusted to the world around her. She used to be afraid to look around and see what was waiting for her. She was overwhelmed by large crowds and noisy places. Now she is opening her eyes and taking it all in. And after a sage assessment of what's in front of her, she is participating. At least most of the time. Almost all of the time really.

She's answering people's questions when they ask her her name or her age. She's socializing with friends every chance she gets. We even took her along to my son's preschool holiday party last week and she was perfectly content going from craft table to craft table making things. In a room - a large room - full of adults and kids. That was loud. And warm. And that would have caused her to completely shut down a year or so ago. But this year she didn't care. She wasn't worried at all.

She even sat on Santa's lap for the first time this year. Despite her trying to talk her sister into believing that there is no Santa. I think that's just her rational side that she let's take over a bit too often.

This girl always has two feet on the ground. She's patient, loving, and incredibly grounded. Sometimes she's so sensible I want to tell her to just let go and have some fun. But then the next thing you know I'll see her pretending she's Buzz Lightyear shooting the aliens, and I'll realize that she does have a fun and creative side to her. It's only just now starting to really come out from underneath her emotional security blanket.

Here are my wishes for you this year, my beautiful six year old girl.

May you always keep your eyes open to the world and all that it has to offer.

May you always see the light that you add to that world, and may it always shine brighter with every year.

May you always choose your friends carefully and know that where one friendship ends another can begin.

May you never loose your sure footing on this earth, keeping your balance and sound judgement.

May you never forget that sometimes the creativity within our own minds lights the path to our dreams.

Happy birthday my love.

Nine is Devine

Today is the 9th anniversary of when I became a mother. It also happens to coincide with my daughter's 9th birthday, for those of you keeping track.

I honestly can't believe that nine years have passed since my husband and I first took on parenthood. Sure, you could say that it was 9 years and 9 months ago, but really, let's all face it. You aren't a parent until there are tears that you have to dry and bottom that you have to wipe.

So now here we are. Deep into parenthood with all its joys and fears. And I have to say that it's a pleasure that we get to experience so many firsts with my oldest. This past year had a few of them.

For every trip we have taken on an airplane this year, we had the joy of hardly noticing our oldest was with us. This was the first year that she packed her own bag, rolled it through the airport, stowed it away, and then kept herself busy the entire trip. Every time. In fact, being that we have the odd number of people in our family, and that most of our trips were in smaller planes that only had 2 seats on either side, many times this past year our oldest sat in a row by herself, usually immediately in front or behind me. Like I said, we hardly noticed she was with us. Especially since she would charm her way into chatting or playing a game of hangman with her neighbor.

And speaking of charming her way into people's lives, this year is the year of the first crush. According to her chitter chatter with her friends there's a certain boy that "likes" her in school. This also happens to be the boy that she mentions quite a bit, so I figured maybe she had a crush on him as well. I was proven correct when I went in to her parent/teacher conference last month and the teacher raved all about her, and then said, "but". She followed it with a statement that everything was great until about 2 weeks prior when she started not listening well, giggling too much and seemingly getting into other peoples' business for no reason. When the teacher was telling me this a lightbulb went off in her eyes and she said she thought it must be the new seat assignments. At that very moment my lightbulb went off and I inquired who she was sitting next to. You guessed it. He who shall not be named was in the cluster of desks. It was official. And when I mentioned my inside information to the teacher she was quite relieved. As was I since I was starting to wonder what catastrophe she could have been processing during those past two weeks of poor behavior, or what lecture I gave her that sunk too deep in her heart. Thank goodness it's just those little kiddie hormones.

Another first this summer was that we have our first child that wants to ride the roller coasters - and every other ride at the parks - over and over. And over. By herself. Thank goodness, since nobody wants to see my husband or I hurl as we exit a ride for the 3rd time.

Most recently we had our first sleepover party. My daughter wanted to invite all her friends over for a pajama party and then asked if some of the could sleep over. After much discussion, we decided to just jump in with both feet and invited them all. 16 kids were invited. Thankfully only 8 could spend the night. So for the first time my husband took cover with our younger two at a friends house and my daughter and I had a good old fashioned sleepover party with the house to ourselves. We painted nails, made bracelets and pillows, hosted a pajama fashion show, sang karaoke, and then took in a double feature. The girls were great and I was incredibly proud of how well my daughter behaved herself the entire time. Even the next morning when they starting running amuck again. She was very generous the entire time, and was conscious of being fair to everyone at the party and not playing any favorites. She seemed to just be genuinely happy to have her posse over and exist in the midst of all that girly girl fun.

The firsts are only just beginning. For her and for us. I'm just glad we get to learn from it all before we do it again with our younger kids. It benefits them as well as us. So I'm thankful for my oldest being our host into the world of parenting.

This is my birthday wish for you this year, my hostess with the mostest.

May you always live independently and know that you are the keeper of your own happiness.

May you always love with an open heart and embrace all the joy that entails, while taking the aches in stride.

May you always enjoy a good roller coaster and the freedom of soaring through the air.

May you always cherish your girl friends, giving generously to their lives and appreciating all the happiness they bring you.

Happy 9th birthday my love.

Peek-a-boo!

Here I am. Over here. No. Here. Over this way. There you go. You found me.

Allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Jessica. Still have 3 kids. And a wonderful husband. Everyone is still healthy. Life is moving on. Just sadly without the weekly (okay...semi-monthly) bits of wisdom being blogged into history.

My last post was in July, so let me catch you up.

August was an electrical storm in my life. Too much going on, swirling around our family of five, and it's no wonder to me that it set off the four month drought in my journaling. A tad bit of crazy. A dash of fun. Mix in a little mayhem.

Then September started and we've been able to fold in a little stability. I'm working more now so I have the kids doing some after-care. Read more about the working mom guilt later.

Seriously, I will write more about it. Later.

There is always later.

So for your reading pleasure, and for my nostalgia keeping purposes, here are some highlights from the past few months. They've been swirling around my mental blog so that I wouldn't forget them. Since that's really the whole point of this exercise. I don't want to forget all the little bits of fun that visit us every day, but that we never seem to remember when we are so exhausted at the end of the week...or month...or quarter. So here goes.

My son while riding a bus full of girl scouts ages 6 to 16, who are busting out songs as per the girl scout tradition: "When I grow up I want to sing just like dem. I want to be one of dem."

One of the girl scouts in my troop during my volunteer counselor stint, after her friend noted that I have pretty eyes: "Yeah. You do. You must have been really pretty when you were younger." Ah, thanks. That's so...sweet of you?

A 9 year old boy at the park who came up to us seemingly out of nowhere and inquired about my oldest daughter: "Does she come here a lot? Like every Tuesday? Do you guys live around here?" And then he just walked away after we gave him some confused looks. As was pointed out by my friend and completely missed by me, this would be my daughter's first experience of "do you come here often?". Thankfully this was completely missed by her as well. Still hanging on to the innocence.

My oldest on the first morning of school, after I suggested a hair clip for her that I thought was really cute: "I don't want to look cute mom, I want to look cool." My younger daughter's retort: "Do you want to look cool, or do you want to be cool?" Older daugther's response: "I already am cool." So much for the innocence.

My oldest - almost 9 year old - daughter commenting about the wonder of Santa Claus: "I can't believe how busy he is and how he can get presents all over the world." My younger - almost 6 year old - daughter's voice of reason: "Maybe that's because he's not real." My oldest: "Well I know that the ones at the mall aren't the real one. Everyone knows that little sister." My younger daughter: "Maybe there is no Santa big sister." Oldest: "Yes there is! I believe in him." I can't say enough how this depicts their personalities. My oldest is up in the clouds, forever creating and dreaming, and my younger daughter has her feet firmly planted on the ground with no funny stuff.

And by far some of my most favorite quotes lately have come from my son. He's been known to punctuate every day with frequent occurences of this scenario. Him: "Mom! Mooooommmy!?" Me after finding him: "Yes hon?" Him: "I love you" Me: " I love you too sweetie" Him: "I love you sooooo much!" and then he follows it up with a wet peck on the lips. Or occassionally we'll be walking somewhere and he'll just grab my hand and give it a kiss. No words. Just pure love.

He is definitely the lover in the group. He brings love into all of our lives and keeps it present.

So this year on Thanksgiving (that'd be today), I'm thankful for all those little moments in life. Because when we look at our lives as a whole I could say that not too much has happened in the past 4 months. And for that I'm also thankful.

Nothing dreaded. Nothing wounding. Just life.

Full of lots of fabulous little moments that I don't want to forget and for which I hope I am always grateful.

Is it September yet?

Ahhh, summer.

There are some things you can just count on out here in California. Blue skies. Shining sun. No rain whatsoever. Property taxes that make your bank account bleed.

One thing I've also been able to count on this summer is endless hours with my kids. Those sweet smiling faces and lively personalities that make me a mother. The giggles and laughter. Ah, the sweetness of it all.

And....end scene.

Cut to the tears, the seemingly non-stop tantrums, the unwillingness to separate from me. The constant cries for "moooooommmmmy!". The 3 meals a day that I make for four of us, half of which ends up in the kitchen sink. The constant tripping over toys and subsequent pleas to clean up. The endless requests for things that seem to leave my wallet constantly empty. The sense that I've somehow turned into a full-time maid, kitchen slave, and cruise ship director.

And when I say full-time, I mean more than just those piddly 40 hours a week that most people qualify as a job. I'm talking 12 to 14 hour days of non-stop children. And it goes without saying that even though my co-worker is around in the evenings during the week, and full-time on the weekends, I'm still at the damn office too. Doesn't this place ever close?

If only it were as beautiful as the giggles and laughter all the time. In reality, those are the shining moments that make me carry on through all the other crap.

It's just that I'm about done carrying on right now. Can't someone else take my kids for a while? Like, say, from around 8:30 in the morning until about 2 or 3 in the afternoon?

Oh yeah. It's called a school. And the cheapskates only operate 9 months a year.

Damn the schools.

Right about now I'm wishing I was one of those moms that signs her kids up for absolutely every activity. Every day. Every week. Every year since birth. And all through the summer shuttles them off to a different camp each week. Because I think it would make it much easier for my kids to be less dependent on me. Less tears at every good-bye. Less demanding me instead of daddy.

Less sucking the life out of me.

Ironically, the reason I haven't been a mom that signs her kids up for everything is because I want them to both experience some "down time" and how to keep themselves entertained, and also I want them to have the experience of a parent that's right there with them. Helping them learn. Guiding their decisions. Playing with them. Teaching them. Making sure they know they are loved and valued.

But I'm thinking that stuff can easily be done in, say, a few hours a day.

Max.

I really don't need all 12 for that kind of life guidance to hit home.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy my kids. Tremendously. I love seeing through their eyes. Watching them wonder at the world and learn through things we take for granted. I adore all those precious face-to-face moments. And I'm a better woman for it all. No doubt.

I just think I've had enough wonder and amazement for this summer.

And to heck with sleeping in. It just makes we feel well rested while I rush through those mornings where I do actually have to be somewhere.

I need it to be fall.

Livin' La Vida Ocho

It's good to be eight. Just ask my daughter.

We recently started a new incentive program for my employees. As the manager of this well-oiled machine we call home, I was getting quite tired of delegating work to my minions only to find it lying on the floor later on. I'm really trying to foster independent workers, but no matter what I tried, I always seemed to revert back to nagging.

Apparently it was all about the comp plan. Now I know why sales people respond so well to the all-expenses paid trips. Or bonus checks.

Not long ago I read a little article about a woman that started giving out marbles for all the little things around the house that she wanted her kids to do. Read: chores. After a certain number of marbles were earned the kids got to choose if they want a cash payout or a sleepover or other comparable treat. She said this was finally the one thing that really worked for her kids, after years and years of sticker charts and other like programs. Amen sister. I'm so tired of sticker charts these days, as are my kids, apparently.

The first week that we tried this it was like hitting the motherhood lottery. My oldest was doing all the things I always nagged at her about, but without the nagging. Shoes were finding their way into the closet where they belong, plates were being cleared from the table, and clothes were magically appearing in the dirty laundry basket and not on the floor. Granted, most time I would ask once for something to be done. But that was it. Just once. And all I had to do was say "2 marbles" and point to something and it was done.

And not only that, my oldest was actually really nice and helpful to her little brother and sister. ALL of the time. Usually this happens in small doses around here, but now she was like a dream big sister. And a dream mother's helper.

Bingo!

My son also seemed to buy in to the program. We told him that he could get marbles for staying in his bed while going to sleep - and not popping out of his room as he can still do from time to time. And on top of that, I promised extra marbles if he stayed in bed in the morning until he heard mommy and daddy were up and awake.

And he actually did it.

For the next several days. And not only that, he thinks the marbles themselves are the prize. That's all he needed as incentive. Just a jar full of pretty marbles.

Double Bingo!

And so began our lazy summer of sleeping in until 7 or 8am. Well, at least for me. With the longer hours of daylight, the kids have been going to bed a little later, and sleeping in until about 8am. EVERY DAY. And with nowhere to be in the morning, I've been known to stay in bed past 8am. Of course my poor husband is still a slave to the economy, getting up long before any of us. And, as was the case today, out of the house at 7:30am before any of us were even awake.

What luxury. One of the small perks for management.

Okay, so back to la vida ocho. My oldest decided that instead of taking a pay out at 50 marbles ($5, a special play date with a friend, or an outing with mommy or daddy), she'd go for the 100 marble pay out ($10, a special sleep over with a friend, or an outing with mommy and another with daddy). After a month, she earned that big prize. And this past weekend we had a friend of hers over for a sleepover.

The deal was that I was to take them out to a movie and dinner as a special treat. And my daughter was in hog heaven.

On the way to the movie she and her friend critiqued each other's hair, giving each other many sweet compliments about different styles that looked good on each other. "Your hair looks really cute when it's down. Let me see. Yes! So cute!" and "Let me see yours up. Oh! That looks really pretty!". Then they proceeded to put on a little lip gloss while getting feedback from each other. "That looks really good! Is mine on right? What a pretty color on you!"

After that lovefest, they got out of the car, swapped sweaters ("that's so cute on you!") and then went to sit at their own little table at Chipotle. They giggled and nibbled their way through dinner. Then we went to the theatre and they got to share a big Icee and a veritable vat of popcorn. First they danced a little Dance Dance Revolution before settling in for the movie, complimenting each other on their moves and their scores. And then it was show time.

As we all donned our very attractive glasses, they sipped their Icee and munched their popcorn, and had a lot of 8 year old fun. For one of the first times - ever - my daughter and her friend got to have their own special time, without little brothers or sisters running around, and with the sole attention of moi. It also qualified as a special outing with the boss, if you will.

We got home at 9:30p, after both her younger brother and sister were in bed (albeit not asleep yet with our summer schedule in progress), she and her friend got ready for bed and then snuggled in for the night. When I checked on them at 10pm, they were reading to each other.

Seriously. They were reading. Out loud. For fun.

Then they were asleep by 11pm. And slept in until 8:30a.

Aahh. It's good to be eight. In the summer. With a jar full of marbles.

So carefree and innocent.

And now the marble jar is filling up once again, with her eye on the prize of a special outing with mommy.

The boss is flattered.

On The Right Track

This summer has been all about flexibility. And adaptability. This summer more than any other time in recent months I have seen my kids change their minds and attitudes about so many things that I've lost track. But I'll try to recount.

For my oldest, the new attitude has been about summer camps. Until just yesterday, I had completely forgotten that she really didn't enjoy summer camp last year. Good thing I have this handy blog to remember how many kids I have, because I think I might forget that too in a few years.

I went to sign up my daughter for a couple of camp days at a gym place with her brother and sister and the woman that runs the place very nicely reminded me of her failed attempt at one day of camp last summer. Only one day and she couldn't complete it. I had to pick her up early. Oops. Totally blacked that out of my memory. Then I return home from said gym and my mom tells me about how my daughter just finished telling her that she "hated" all her summer camps last year. Hmmm. Forgot about that too.

Then it all comes flooding back to me. The struggle to say good-bye. The need to send her off to camp with some transitional object of mine. Her desire to just stay home.

Alas, this year we have seen a change of heart. I signed her up for a choir camp (to which she said "choir!?!" with a roll of her eyes when I told her it was an option for this summer). It's actually just regular old singing, plus some percussion lessons. She needs both if she wishes to pursue her career as a professional musician and singer, which is her latest aspiration. And she's really enjoying it. She even wanted to go extra early this morning so she could have more time to spend with the kids at camp.

What a change. And when I approached the subject of a couple of camp days at that gym with her brother and sister she vowed to me that this year she'd really like it.

Enough said. She's back on track.

Perhaps I didn't need to volunteer my time, and enroll my younger two kids, at the girl scout camp for two weeks at the end of July. I did so a few months ago when I met resistance about her going to the camp. So, figuring that it would just be the latest in sacrificing my sanity in the name of hers, I threw my name in the hat as a volunteer counselor.

Perhaps I was a bit too hasty with that decision. But more on that later.

Now for my younger daughter, we are finally getting her on the track - for the first time - with summer camps. She's really come out of her shell lately and amazed me with her new found confidence. She completed a week of basketball camp and by the end of the week, she was ready to sign up for another week. With or without her friend, and with our without the same team coach. Look at her just going with the flow! Who knew?

She's also gone to the athletic club kid care place a couple of times this week and never once had an issue saying good-bye or breaking down. She took it all in stride, even if she said she wasn't happy about it. And in the end she even said it "wasn't so bad".

Chalk up another huge step for the shy girl.

Now for my son's summer update. He's been a huge freak for this little gym place. He always loved to go when I had to go in the gym with him, but he was actually much more shy than most people would expect of him, given his endless energy. At various times throughout the hour he would insist on being with me to participate, and if we were asked to just watch our kids, he would usually choose to not do the activity and just stay by my side. When the spring class ended and I signed him up for the class that was for his age and required him to participate by himself, I was a bit nervous about how he'd do.

The first day of class came and he couldn't wait to go. I kept telling him that he would have to do the class all by himself like his big sister, and for the most part he seemed okay with it. But I've seen this before with my younger daughter, and I got burned by thinking all would be well.

For the summer schedule he has to watch his sister's class first, and then it is time for his class. Perhaps it was that hour of anticipation that helped him along, but when the time came for his class, he ran right in and never looked back. He did (almost) everything that the teacher asked of him, and came running out, flushed in the cheeks and proud of his accomplishments.

Now we can check that one off the list too. Not only that, but after hitting a slight bump in the road with our good-byes at the club at the end of spring (even with the "pocket treat" at the ready), we are back on track with those drop-offs too. Runs right in and doesn't look back. With the pocket treats too, of course.

This summer is really marking a time of growth for us. At long last, after eight years of parenting, we are finally seeing some signs that our kids are ready to explore the world with open minds and willing attitudes.

And, at long last, after eight years of parenting, I am welcoming the independence that is headed our way.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not ready to move my oldest into the dorm yet, but I'm starting to see down the tracks a little bit, and not just what's immediately in front of us. And I'm embracing it.

Better yet, we are beginning to feel the payoff for all the hand holding, tear drying (for them and for me) and endless comforting from their fears. Not to mention the countless sticker charts and bribery techniques that I have employed, and am still doing to this day.

Now I can sense what it will be like when we aren't holding hands any longer, but I am comforted by the fact that we will still be holding hearts.

And it goes without saying that I'll keep holding hands for as long as they let me.

Olly Olly Oxen Free

I'm coming out of hiding.

How is it that the end of the school year feels like everyone is moving out of the country and that last day of school is the day they are catching their flight?

Hurry! Hurry! Get EVERYTHING done before school gets out and we fly off to Neverland!

If you have school-aged children you know what I'm talking about. If you don't, take my word for it. The clock starts ticking louder and louder after Memorial Day, until it's deafening during the second week of June.

Everyone wants to get in their kids' birthday parties before summer, so that they can be sure their child's friends can make it and won't be on vacation for their birthday in July or August. This affects my schedule for work and play.

And every after-school activity has a "show", which is at the end of the class schedule, which of course coincides with the school year. Not to mention the end-of-season parties for sports teams as well. And then there are all the school classroom parties, teacher gifts and the like that we are coordinating or contributing towards.

And if you are lucky enough to have a child in PreK, Kindergarten, 5th grade, 8th grade or 12th grade (not to mention 16th grade), you will be attending a graduation ceremony and obligatory party.

And in our house we also have daddy's birthday, and of course our upcoming Father's Day this weekend, which requires gift-buying.

Plus, in my infinite wisdom of needing more to do around this time of year, several years ago we started the tradition of celebrating our kids' half-birthdays. Which for the girls both fall into the first two weeks of June, and require a little baking (yes, we actually make 1/2 a cake) and a small gift as well.

Even if I'm bringing on some of this myself, suffice it to say, it makes for a very busy couple of weeks.

Now that I'm mostly on the other side of the madness, I've come to a new conclusion.

I think it's the parenting world's way of preparing us for summer. Of making us actually want our kids home all day with nothing to do.

Every mother I talk to says "I'm so ready for summer!". And of course I always say "I know what you mean!". And then we compare notes about how it'll be nice not to have to pack lunches, get out the door first thing in the morning, oversee homework or drive the activity shuttle bus around in the afternoons. Not to mention our breaks from the PTA and whatever other volunteerism we've become addicted to throughout the year.

But really, are we that ready? Am I that ready?

For the past 10 months I've had very quiet mornings. And while I am very ready to give up the mid-day pick-up madness, I have to say I'll miss my two mornings a week with the house to myself.

And I have loved the structure of our days and weeks, even if a lot of it is schlepping around town. In fact I started to panic a little with the lack of structure that is upon us. I even came up with a daily and weekly schedule, that included some work time for me, which I fear may be hard to come by this summer, and also some fun play time for all of us.

I have even invented some "brown bag activities" where each kid gets a chance to pick from a bag something for us all to do at certain times during the week. Most of it is trips to local parks or museums, but at least I know it'll get us out of the house and having fun.

Of course that assumes that I'll actually remember to do it, and not let the kids sit in front of the TV for the next 60 days.

As I write this, my kids are playing video games and keeping themselves blissfully busy. And there's that small twangy voice inside my head that's saying "shouldn't I be getting my kids out of the house for some fun?".

Then the other voice, milky smooth and enticing, talks over that little one and says"there's plenty of time for that in the next 2 months".

I can guarantee you that I will not be reporting our full amount of "screen time" at every one's next doctor's visit when she asks if we are keeping it to less than an hour a day. Which, by the way, is just plain silly. A few years ago it was 2 hours per day. Now this last time we checked in it was down to one hour. What happened to that other hour? Was there a new study that came out that said I'll be raising serial killers if my kids watch that extra 60 minutes of TV everyday? I must have missed the news that night.

So I'll just keep reminding myself of what summer felt like as a kid. Do you remember yours? That sense of freedom. The ability to keep your pajamas on until noon. All the times you went running around with the neighborhood kids and played outside until it got dark out. Or went to the local swimming pool to hang out. ALL DAY. On a Wednesday.

So what if that freedom also means the ability to sit and veg out a little more too?

I'll live with the repercussions. Because really, let's think about this.

I have 3 small children in my eyesight all day. Every day. For 12 hours every day.

For 10 weeks.

Maybe I'll go back into hiding now.

Trust Me

I've always known that trust is an essential part of any relationship. And I've always wanted my kids to trust me. Without hesitation.

And if you'd have asked me how I thought I could make that happen, I'd say by trusting them in return.

But lately I'm finding that there is a lot of grey area in that seemingly black and white equation.

My oldest has had her history of little white lies. Reading back over that entry I realized that a couple of years ago I wasn't exactly encouraging her to tell the truth, which is what I have been heavily emphasizing lately. If I punish her for lying there's no telling that she won't just try to get better at lying, rather than start telling the truth. And it goes without saying that if she isn't lying, or that if I don't absolutely know the truth of a situation, and I'm blaming her for it anyway, I'm destroying her trust in me.

So over the last couple years I've been trying to trust her more, so that she'll trust me. At least trust me enough to tell me the truth and not be so fearful of the consequences.

I say that I have been "trying" to trust her more because at times that's a difficult task. This past week has proven so. But it's also proven what will happen if I don't.

We had a couple of little lies this week. The first one was related to a shirt that I found in my daughter's drawer. I was pretty sure it wasn't hers, so I asked her. She just shrugged. So I asked her if the shirt belonged to one of her friends that she is always trading clothes with on play dates. She said she didn't think so. But this time she was suppressing a smile. It was the kind of smile that tells me she's lying.

I asked her one more time and she said "I dunno, maybe" as if this would pass for a decent answer. I very nicely explained that she the best thing to do is to tell the truth and if she was trying to lie to me I was not at all happy. At this point she just shut down a little and said "I guess so" in response to another question about whether or not this belonged to her friend.

I knew that she was lying about not knowing, and I figured it was because she liked the shirt and wanted to keep it. I explained that her friend probably liked it just as much and was missing it. But she still didn't come right out and tell me it belonged to her.

A couple days later when I asked her about the shirt, she readily admitted it was her friends. It was sort of as if she had forgotten she was originally trying to lie about it.

Then later that same day she tried to pull off another little lie. Once again I tried to explain that telling the truth would save her from more consequences than lying would. I still couldn't break through and sell "the truth will set you free" concept.

On Thursday she came home from school and immediately brought me a note that I needed to sign. It was a note her teacher made her write to me explaining that she had kicked a boy in her class because he was "being too loud and not listening to me ten times when I asked him to be quiet."

I asked her what was going on when all this happened, and she said she didn't want to tell me. I said something about it being frustrating when people don't listen to you, and then she just put it all out there. Apparently this boy was teasing her about liking another boy in the class, the aforementioned admirer, and he wouldn't stop saying it over and over to her. So she kicked him a good one.

Now part of me was happy to see her stick up for herself. Don't let the loud mouths of the world keep you down, sister!

But of course I didn't tell her that. I told her the right thing to do was to find the teacher, yada, yada, yada. And then I realized that I was really happy that she just came out and told me the story. No lies, no refusal to explain.

A step in the right direction!

Then later that night we all got in the car to go to our local Farmer's Market. My husband sat in the back with our younger daughter, which means it must have been a full moon on the fourth Thursday of a month starting with "m" because that almost never happens. While back there he found a little doodling on the car. In ink. On the interior of the car.

I was immediately not happy. He seemed to just shrug it off, but for whatever reason this made me really upset. I asked our oldest if it was her and she denied it. But she did get a little smirk.

Aha! I thought I had her cornered so I acted as such.

Not good. Before too long she was in tears vehemently denying it was her.

My husband put the kabash on my investigation, but I had a really hard time letting it go. I figured that it MUST have been her, since she's in that far back seat about 95% of the time when we are in the car, and it was in pen, which she often has in her hands in the car after school, writing notes or lists or what not.

All signs pointed to her. And I was determined to get to the bottom of this.

Yesterday, which was the following day, I went to try to clean off the pen doodle. As I was walking out there I said again that I was upset that she wasn't telling me the truth. My husband very wisely pointed out that we have to trust her if she's going to trust us. I agreed with that, but between me and you, I chalked that up to something I would do after this situation was cleared up. There was no way I was going to trust her with this one, because I knew, without doubt, that I was right about this one.

So I went to scrubbing this little inch or two of ink drawing, that I had thought was an ice cream cone, with an arrow pointing to the cup holder, as if my daughter was labeling what was there. At least that's what it looked like from the front of the car.

But up close I realized that the 'drawing' is much more rudimentary than it appeared from the driver's seat.

Instantly I start wondering if it was someone else in the family.

So while I'm sitting at the car wash with my younger daughter and my son, I casually ask my daughter if she wrote on the car.

Bingo! She says, sweetly and simply, "yes".

I immediately feel the yolk oozing down my face. Remorse starts setting up camp.

I don't react too much and simply say "I guess that explains why you were awfully quiet during that conversation I had with your sister last night in the car". I of course give her a dose of guilt, adding that I'm really not happy with her actions, that it wasn't fair for her to let me keep blaming her sister, and that I expect more from her now that she's five and a half. Which I now realize is a year younger than my oldest when we went through the "Pants on Fire" shenanigans that I wrote of in 2008.

She understands and I leave it at that.

I feel relieved to finally have an answer.

And I begin composing my apology to my oldest.

I tell my oldest later on that day that I'm very sorry for not believing her. I help her understand that I was very wrong and I fully know it. She's happy that I finally know the truth.

Now I have to ask, where are we?

There is just a lot of grey area here. I want to trust my kids, but that trust gets chipped away every time I catch one of them in a lie. I want them to trust me, but that too gets chipped away every time I don't trust them.

This whole 'raising kids' thing can be quite complicated.

Trust me.

The Fast, The Furious, and The Fun

Today is my son's 3rd birthday.

Over the past year he has proven true to his place in the family. The only boy. The youngest of three. Our little prince.

His nature is to be fast, furious and fun.

Everything he does, he does fast. Either he has no patience or he's really in a hurry to move to the next thing. Or both. Whatever the reason, he's remarkably fast. And by that I mean that many people - outside our family - have made remarks about it. From the time he first walked, he started running. And when he ran, he did so at a speed that made people ask me how old he was. His speed often works to his advantage. He can edge out his big sisters in a foot race. And if he's not winning he'll just push them out of the way so that he will win. Did I mention that he's competetive too? What I've come to realize is that we really need a huge room that's completely padded with things to jump off of and into in our house. He really digs that. Too bad for his forehead we don't have that to offer.

Like most two year olds, he has shown his furious side. He can tantrum better than his two sisters by far. He turns on the waterworks, stomps a foot or two, and demands that he gets his way. But I do like to think, when he throws his whole body on the floor and screams, that he is cuter than most two year olds. So at least he's got that going for him. And he's be a bit smarter too, if I do say so myself. He knows exactly when things aren't going to go his way, because he'll often throw in a "pllllleeeeeeeeaase?" and throw himself at my legs just before the eruption. But the plus side of turning three is that he's getting much better at his time-outs. He's learning to face the consequences like a man.

Of course, if you've ever met him, it goes without saying that he is fun. But I'll say it anyway. His imagination has hints of five and eight year olds running through it as he tries to keep up with the big kids. He'll tell jokes that make no sense, he'll dance a little hip hop when the mood moves him, and he always cracks himself up with the word "poop" or any variation thereof. He can get a smile so big that sometimes I feel like I could lose myself inside it. And his laugh is so amazing I truly wish I could bottle it. It brings tears to my eyes knowing that I might not hear it so much one day. At least not with so much gusto and lack of self-consciousness.

Our little guy has one big personality. There's no mistaking it, he's here to live life to the fullest.

So here's my birthday wish to you this year, my son.

May you always use your speed to your advantage, but never forget to slow down and appreciate all that surrounds you, including those that you might be passing by.

May you never stop expecting the most, demanding the best, and wanting it all.

May you never forget that life is fun, and should always be so. Keep your sense of humor and your love for life and you will always be able to laugh with abandon.

Happy Birthday buddy.

Simple Folks

This year for Mother's Day we kept it pretty simple. Well by "we" I mean my husband. And let me just say that simple does suit me just fine.

I know, I know. I dropped the subtle hints here and there that I easily could have slipped out for a massage appointment had he booked one for me. But really, in the end, that spa appointment is not what makes a great day.

And neither is a day free of chores, for that matter. I admit that I spent too much time yesterday checking things off my list. But that's one of the things that makes me happy. Getting things done that have been bugging me or haunting me every time I walk past a certain closet or part of the house. So while I may complain about having to do so much around the house, in the end, a choreless day is not necessarily what makes a great day either.

What does make a great day is spending some time with my family.

About halfway through the morning I decided that I would bring my mother the flowers I had for her and stop over for a little chat. I treated myself to a latte and had a very nice time just shooting the breeze with my mom. Who, after all, also deserves a lovely mother's day visit from her daughter.

Then in the afternoon we all went bowling. Our first family trip to the local alley, and let me tell you, we will become regulars there before you know it. What fun! There just aren't too many activities you can do with three kids, ages 3, 5 and 8, that you all participate in and you all have so much fun doing. And that doesn't involve a TV screen.

We all had a great time, and my oldest daughter was such a great sport. She had the lowest score the whole time because she was the youngest child actually bowling. My other two kids were using the little ramp so they had a bit of an advantage. And I explained this phenomenon to her when she complained about her score.

Of course, it doesn't really need to be stated that we had the gutter guards up the whole time, and let's just say they came in a little handy for all of us at one time or another.

And even though she fretted that she had such a low score, she really had a great attitude. No whining or worrying. She just uttered her complaints here and there, but always had a smile on her face. I explained to her that she was only going to keep getting better now that she was actually bowling on her own.

Then we all went out for burgers and milkshakes afterward.

It was just like an episode of The Simpsons.

Although I have to say the best moment of the day was when I put my son to bed for his nap. I rocked him until he was asleep, and then I just cuddled with him. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do that much longer. Holding him in my arms and rocking with him was just absolute bliss. I watched his sweet little sleeping face and listened to his precious breathing. I didn't want to let go.

And that moment was further trumped by him today. After his nap he is quite snuggly and wants to be held for a little bit. So we were cuddled up on the coach with a little Dora on for company, and he started lying down. He was splayed across my lap in sort of an awkward position, so I asked him if wanted to sit back up. He proceeded to pull himself up and snuggle right up into my arms and chest.

I hugged him hard, kissed his head, and said "you're the best!".

He then looked up at me with his sweet baby blues and a delicious smile and said "no, you are!"

Now that is when I really feel like a mother.

It's the simple things in life that make me happiest.

Three beautiful, healthy, and happy children and a life full of love and fun.

It doesn't get any better than that.

Sweetening the Deal

Time flies, blogosphere friends.

I think I've finally found something lower on the totem pole than my husband.

Wink, wink, hubby.

For the past couple of weeks I have been struggling with drop-offs for my son. Two mornings a week he goes to a very informal preschool that is run out of our athletic club daycare. And one additional morning we go to the child care center at the club so I can exercise. So three times a week I was being ripped apart as I literally scraped my child off of me and handed him, in all his tear-stricken and snotty glory, over to some very sweet ladies.

One day at the preschool drop off I walked in and another child there was already in tears. So the teacher sort of had her hands full. Plus, let's just say that this teacher is not well-trained in the art of smooth transitions for toddlers. She has a hard time taking control of the situation and often just let's it all play out while she sort of watches. And at times sips her coffee.

Okay, I said it was "very informal", remember? It's just a temporary solution for us until the fall. And she's very sweet and otherwise does a great job.

But that morning I finally got fed up with feeling like I was just dumping my kid on to this teacher and not getting much support with the transition process. I felt like she was starting to dread it when she saw us walk in. So I went down to the day care center office and told them to send someone down there to help her. And I mentioned that she could use someone to show her the ropes when it comes to this stuff.

The next time we were due at school I was driving there thinking that I was going to pull him out of their program. He had a bit of an easier time just going to the day care center, albeit that was starting to get a bit worse too if I had to admit it. But they were much better at moving him through it and using the art of distraction. Plus they offered some more TLC too.

We walk into the school room and he starts to protest me leaving as we open the door. And then the teacher comes over and says "I brought you a surprise! Remember what I said I would bring? Some new books!". Books had often been something we brought with us to help him transition and they were a great tool for the teacher to get him to move on after I left. But this time she sprung them on him right away. And they were "new". That means new to him. And they were about trucks no less. Score one for the teacher.

He went right over to her and got in her lap to read.

I can't express how great this was for me. Of course it was better for him too. But really, I was about out of patience with this whole thing and was worried I'd be in for another long haul with this child, after having finally conquered this whole process with our younger daughter.

But after that nice surprise I decided we'd stick this out a bit longer and see what happened. Now this was on a Wednesday, and his next day back to school wasn't until Monday. That's quite a few days to forget about the new books waiting for him at school.

Come Monday, to help ease the transition even more, I decided to sweeten the deal. Literally. I put two little pieces of candy in his pocket when I sent him in to school. We put them in there as we got out of the car, and he was really excited to see what they were. He even felt the outside of his pocket in anticipation. But he was good and waited until he went into the room before he reached in for the goods. By that time of course he had been greeted with a couple more new books, plus some that we brought, and he was good to go.

He didn't cry. Didn't whine. Didn't ask me not to go.

This is about as close as we get to him saying "don't let the door hit ya' on the way out mom."

The next day I did the same candy trick when I brought him to the child care center. And he went waltzing right in there, not a single protest.

The staff looked at me and commented that he did really well with that send off. Then I let them in on my sweet little secret. They all laughed and said "hey, whatever it takes".

Now we have repeated this process 6 times between both places and had great success every single time. The only exception was yesterday, when I sent him in to the classroom in pants without pockets.

Oops.

I didn't realize it until we got to the club and I was getting him out the car. So I handed the candies to him and he kept them in his hand. But apparently this just isn't good enough. He whined and asked me not to leave, all the while still clutching the candies that he'd apparently forgot about.

I had to hand him over to the teacher in a few tears. And the teacher, by the way, was resting on her laurels and didn't have any new books. But thankfully we brought a couple, and I told him, as I was walking out the door, to show his teacher what color of candy he had that day. This seemed good enough, as he was discussing strawberry and orange flavors and was rather content by the time I left.

Apparently, like most men, he likes a bit of a challenge. He must hunt and conquer. If it's just handed to him it doesn't taste nearly as sweet.

Whatever it takes.