Joyful Joyful - How I Miss Thee

"You're the one I want to be with, you're the reason that I came. And you'll find Me in the stillness as I'm whispering your name." ~Anon

The stockings seem much emptier,
The tree looks not as green.
The carols sound so out of tune,
And the traditions have just become routine.

I've relived all my memories
Of the twenty-fifth of December
To try and find whats missing now,
From the Christmases I remember.

Its not a certain flavor
Or a gift beneath the tree,
But more that special feeling
the season once brought to me.

After years of searching high and low,
through woods, on beaches, in shops, and pews,
I'm almost sure that what I'm missing
Is sharing Christmastime with you.

With you the season came alive,
A wonderland in any weather.
Its something I've lost bit by bit
Since we last were together.

Gifts and shopping hold no thrill,
I've no pride in well done decorations.
I still roll the cookies and pour the eggnog,
But I just don't feel much celebration.

What was the wellspring you possessed
That renewed your spirit from year to year?
I miss the peace, the joy, the laughter,
The successful missions spreading yuletide cheer.

Its still and cold this Christmas Eve,
The sky is dressed with its brilliant lights.
As I turn my face up to the stars,
I think of you, and send my love tonight.

And if you could still send me a gift
To open as tomorrow comes,
Please help me find that joy, that hope,
For this Christmas and for future ones.

Not the baby

A three year old child is a being who gets almost as much fun out of a fifty-six dollar set of swings as it does out of finding a small green worm.  ~B. Vaughan

You're three! Three! Too old to call my baby anymore. Even you insist you're a "boy" now to anyone who dare say otherwise. You're independent, headstrong, and so, so, smart. I laugh at something you say every day. The questions you ask and the phrases you use blow me away sometimes. I love to hear you count, and say your letters and numbers. I can see your personality out on a daily basis now. Glimpses of the man you'll grow up to be. You love to smile and to use that smile to weasel out of getting in trouble, and you definitely are a handful at times!  You're my helper in everything we do; cooking, shopping, driving. You even have an opinion on the clothes I pick out and try on. I love that you get songs stuck in your head and will sing them to yourself while you're playing. And I love that you still snuggle. At least you're not too old for your mom, yet. Happy Birthday sweet Little Bear!

Three’s a Crowd

It would seem that something which means poverty, disorder and violence every single day should be avoided entirely, but the desire to beget children is a natural urge. ~P. Diller

Top 10 list of things that are more difficult with three children instead of two;

1. Trying to fit 3 car seats across the backseat of a 5 passenger car. Or as my husband and I call it - Car Seat Tetris

2. Holding hands in the parking lot or to cross the street.

3. When you have roast chicken for dinner and each kid wants a drumstick

4. When they play together, one of them is usually left out. This becomes a major war when the game they are playing involves the Xbox.

5. When they are all scheduled for activities and they somehow all have to be in a different place at the same time.

6. When you’re out shopping solo duty and one of them utters the dreaded “Mom, I have to go bathroom!”

7. When you’re out shopping with them and YOU have to go to the bathroom!

8. Telling them apart by voice from another room when you can hear that giggling that signifies they’re up to no good

9. When there are only two of you and all three need to be accompanied on the roller coaster at the amusement park

And my all time favorite -
10. Trying to keep a straight face. Especially when someone stops by out of the blue to witness your house trashed, the oldest one chasing the dog, the middle one playing train in the kitchen with the dining chairs and the youngest one running around the house with no pants. Because in this house that’s the usual after school activities that go on between homework and dinner.

Sometimes parenthood is all about keeping your sense of humor intact.

Mirror Mirror

The world is as many times new as there are children in our lives. ~R. Brault

Seven. How can it be seven years have gone by already? I can still remember her fitting on my chest, curled up in one arm, and having sweet milky baby breath while she slept. Now she’s old enough that I can recall what I was like at her age. The likes, the dislikes, the fears, the fights. In so many ways its like looking into a mirror of my childhood. Silly, goofy, giggly, passionate, hot-tempered, dramatic. (Although I don’t remember being as dramatic as she is.) But she is our creative, beautiful, Monkey-bean. And we wouldn’t have her any other way. Its going to be a wonderful ride reliving my childhood with you. Happy birthday, baby.

The Children’s Garden

You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. ~J. Rohn

I still cannot believe Scootch has grown this fast. I remember the summer after he was born, when my anxiety was still an immobilizing disorder. I remember that fear of going outside, the rush of uneasiness if I even thought about doing something that involved taking my baby out of the house. Thankfully, its been a long time since those days. But, I must admit that there is still fear of the unknown present, that little rush of discomfort, every morning as Scootch steps out of the house to meet the bus.

Scootch has been coached and prepped about his allergies and the food at school. Sit at the special table for lunch, don’t share food with your friends, always ask a grownup if you’re not sure about something, always ask if you’re given something we didn’t pack for you….he’s heard them all. He’s repeated them to me. We’ve practiced what to do if he feels like he’s having a reaction. I’ve tried to prepare him for any possibility he might encounter. And still, after all that, he could not wait to go to school. To conquer the great grown-up wonderland of changing classes, new teachers, riding the bus, having recess, and eating in the cafeteria. No fear for him. No reservations. I guess I must be doing something right that he isn’t terrified of leaving the safe sanctuary of home. Like I was. Sometimes I still am.

I find it ironic that I suffered through the worst anxiety disorder of my life after giving birth to the boy who now makes me worry the most. I sometimes wonder if that was my initiation period to becoming his mother. If you can conquer agoraphobia, night terrors, and anxiety attacks, this food allergy thing on a daily basis should be a walk in the park, right? It still doesn’t get any easier to let him go face the great big world alone without me. At least I knew my fears were in my mind. There really weren’t people waiting to run me down in the parking lot, or break into my house and steal my kids. Scootch’s allergies are real, and his reactions are even more terrifying. But being a parent means doing what’s best for your kids, and its in Scootch’s best interest to know how to take on the world by himself, a little bit at a time. Kindergarten means one small step for Scootch, but one giant leap for Mommy’s piece of mind.

Only 171 days left.

Absolution

It's not only children who grow. Parents do too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours.  ~J. Maynard

You're the happiest of little men when you get your way. Smiling, affectionate, and readily armed with a brilliant blue gaze. Trouble with being two and a half is that your life is a lesson in limits, and you don't like it. You become a 'little bear' in every sense of the word. You kick at me, scratch me, yell, collapse, and bang your head on the floor on purpose. It makes my heart ache to hear you so grieved and upset, but you need to learn. And sometimes I turn into you. When you are angry and yell and cry, I yell and cry too. And then we're both angry two year olds with pouty faces and stubborn hearts. Sometimes I wish you would just hurry up and grow through this phase already, but then I turn around and catch a glimpse of Monkey and Scootch, and realize that you'll be through this in the blink of an eye.
Which is why your nap time is my favorite time of day. Whether you want to lie down, or you're insisting you're "not tired," you still cling to me with your chubby arms around my neck. I lay you down in your little bed and you refuse to loosen your grip, so I lay my head down next to yours. And somehow, no matter what the fight was, all is forgiven. You look at my face and my eyes and offer me wet kisses. You sometimes still refuse that you need rest through your own yawns and my soft shushing. The music plays as the minutes pass and I watch you fight sleep, your little lids and lashes lowering and flickering. Your arms still locked around me,  fingers flexing against my neck in a mimic of my hand patting you on the back. I stroke my fingers through your hair and I can tell the moment sleep drags you away from me. I can feel it when the heavy weight of your embrace releases the slightest bit. And then I can ease away, tucking a stuffy in your arms as my replacement. You'll clutch at it and stir for a moment, but then fall back into your dreams. And when you wake up, we have both been given absolution. And we can both try again anew.

Big

We've had bad luck with our kids - they've all grown up. ~Christopher Morley

Scootch's birthday is in June, like mine. I never realized how emotional that could be. How him turning a year older would coincide with other milestones in school to pack a double whammy punch. This year he graduated from Preschool only one week after his birthday. Truly a big boy in every sense of the word. He sang, he danced, and marched down the aisle in his little white mortarboard with a big wave and a smile. So different from the introverted little 4 year old who I had to drag to orientation the first day, and refused to participate in class for an entire week.This big boy can write his name (first and last!), knows his address and phone number, and loves to do simple math and word games. He can read Hop on Pop all by himself, and tries to tell me what other words say everywhere we go. Fine motor skills are still a bit of a challenge, but he tries his best instead of just saying he "can't do it," and that's half the battle. He loves puzzles and building things, and made a couple of best friends in school. He asks me at least once a day if he's going to Kindergarten tomorrow. He absolutely cannot wait to board that bus with his sister in September and head off to new adventures. I, on the other hand, wish there was a time machine so I could go back for another cuddle and just hold onto him for a tiny bit longer as my sweet baby boy. Where does the time go?