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Even if it only works once …

21 Jan

Tonight, I talked an angry, little, tired man to sleep. Not because what I was saying was so snooze-worthy either, but because he was so relaxed and stilled by the tone of my voice and the words of love I was sharing with him. It was unbelievable and beautiful.

I thought if I would tell him all the things I love about him, he would calm his frustration over not getting to stay up a little later. Nothing like this has happened before with Nate so I was not counting on it. Especially since he had just thrown a beat-down on his pillow and tried to wedge himself against the wall and his bed to make it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. After walking away and giving him a moment, I spoke to him softly and rubbed his hair. Then, amazingly, I heard his quiet breath take on a sleep rhythm.

I told him he was such a cool kid. That he was smart, sweet and so incredibly full of heart. That I love how he tries so hard at everything he does. That he cares about others. That I see how nice he is to his sister, daddy, me, turtle and even Mr. Fishface. He’s funny. It’s so great how he likes to read and learn math. He’s really good at it. That I love him and I’m not trying to be a mean mommy by making him go to bed, I’m doing it so he can play and have a great day tomorrow. That watching him play sports is one of the best things I’ve ever gotten to do.

Little, sleepy, angry man. Thank you for letting me have a special parenting moment to cherish. And for not waking up as I attempted to tippy-toe out of your room.

Birthday Bliss and Trip (Times Three)

10 Jan

I’m not bringing this up to start a fight or make him feel bad, but Andrew forgot my birthday the first year we were married. I merely point that out to reduce the level of bliss this blog post exudes.

He now finds a way to outdo every birthday with little surprises and special gifts that shows he pays attention to me.

He had roses waiting for me in the garage so I would see them when I walked to my car. He braved the beauty department makeup counter to buy me the “fancy” mascara I wanted.

That would be swooning enough for sure but there was more.

This is the cookie cake that Andrew had delivered at my work for my birthday.

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Thank you, Cookie Creations of Atlanta

This is the dress, also purchased by Andrew, that I wore when I ate the cookie cake that Andrew bought me.

Happiness and Photo Courtesy: http://www.jessicasimpsoncollection.com

These are the hot heels that Andrew delivered upon me before I left for work in the dress that I wore when I ate the cookie cake.

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Also, Jessica Simpson

These hot heels also added some adventure to the day that marks 34 years alive. I tripped three times in these beauties. And I would do it all again. My embarrassment and possible pain is the least I can do to show my thanks, appreciation and love for all Andrew does for me.

And I think he’s thankful for things like calendar reminders now. Maybe forgetting my birthday was the best present he ever got me.

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Spud

27 Dec

We called you that because you looked like a potato in the ultrasound picture. An adorable, precious, squirmy, overwhelming potato.

I remember I cried when I found out I was going to have another baby. “How will I ever love another child as much as I love Nia?” I worried. You were a surprise. You were a blessing.

You were due on December 20th. I bought baby’s first Christmas clothes and ornaments. It would technically not be your first Christmas. You arrived on December 27th and not without a dramatic entrance. We finally would find out if Spud was a girl or a boy and – oh yeah – that emergency c-section. You were healthy after a struggle of an arrival and were a boy. We cried out of relief, excitement and love.

Today, six years later, you woke me up with a cuddle and a happy, “Today is my real birthday!”

Yes it is, Spud. And I’m so glad for it.

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“Where is baby Jesus?”

25 Dec

It was something I didn’t even notice. The baby Jesus – missing from the manger scene at church. Nia realized it right away and asked it as we walked by the display during communion. I whispered to her that the baby will appear at midnight, for his birthday. She loved that and it made me wish we treated our mangers the same way. That’s better than an elf who moves to a new spot each morning after reporting on a child’s behavior or Santa who brings you gifts if you’re not on the naughty list. Jesus loves you, no matter what. He gave us the greatest gift, even though many were not nice to him.

I hope as the years pass, they remember asking where baby Jesus was. I know I will always remember it and how they lifted their sweet voices in song to celebrate Jesus’ birth. How they sat next to Father Leo on the steps of the altar in front of the entire church and answered his questions about the meaning of Christmas and animatedly nodded. How Nate rested his head on Nia’s shoulder at one point during Mass and she didn’t shrug it away. That they remember the love, beauty and spirit of Christmas in the middle of the piles of presents and the cookies for Santa.

Merry. Christmas.

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Innocence and Danger

5 Dec

It used to be breaking news would go over my children’s heads. Used to be, breaking news wouldn’t even be on TV because we’d have on a channel just for kids that never showed crawls or news cut-ins. Now though, my children are getting older and they are more perceptive and are sponges for information. Constantly questioning, reading things and figuring out what their parents are trying to secretly spell out in front of them.

This all became very evident to me this weekend while we were watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” on an Atlanta TV station. Our 5-year-old started to read the crawl at the bottom of the screen. The crawl was about a little girl, Jorelys Rivera from Canton, Ga., who was missing. “Three or four feet tall. Blue jeans and pink shirt,” our son read. Our 8-year-old daughter, only one year older than Jorelys, asked about her. What happened? Where is she? Where was she? Where is her mom? We answered the questions that we could and talked to them about how police thought she was taken from near her apartment’s playground. I stressed the need to be cautious of strangers, not really knowing if this was a stranger issue or not, just trying to reinforce to them about safety while we were on the subject.

I didn’t really think it would all register to them. Still at ages where the next few hours are what’s on their mind, I was quite surprised to hear my daughter say unprovoked after church on Sunday, “I think I saw that little missing girl in church today. She was sitting in front of us.” I told her that I thought that was very smart of her to be looking for the girl but I didn’t think that was her. She didn’t meet the description good enough. My daughter asked, “I wonder if they found her.”

She was really thinking about this.

How was I going to tell her what happened to Jorelys? That they found the sweet baby girl’s body on Monday. Should I? Would it scare her too much? But, sadly, terribly, it’s what happened. She should know. She cared about Jorelys. A girl who could have been my daughter’s friend. She carried her purse and diary to the playground like my daughter would have. So innocent and sweet. Like all our children.

I told her and my son. I didn’t get detailed. Just that I had sad news. They found the missing girl. I let the questions start, “Is she ok? Was she hurt? Where was she? Was she killed? Was she shot? How did she die? Who did it? But she was only seven.”

I told them that sometimes people are mean or not right and will hurt others, even kids. Police are now trying to figure out who did it. That the only people who really know now are Jorelys and the person who hurt her. “And God,” my daughter said. “And Santa,” my son added. “Santa knows.”

A child’s perspective of something so serious and sad. I explained that it doesn’t matter if Santa knows. This is bigger than Santa but his young mind was determined, “But that person who hurt her was not nice.”

Yes, buddy, you’re right. Not nice at all. The perspective of a child trying to figure out such a scary and heartbreaking situation is so confusing. I can’t even imagine what she thought. I wish she didn’t have to think it. Too young. So innocent. Only seven. With her purse and diary.

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An Introduction to the Theatre

4 Dec

“Can we watch all the plays?” A wide-eyed and entertained Nia asked me after the curtain closed on the first play she ever watched.

It really was the perfect play for her to call her first. She was reading The Best Christmas Pageant Ever in class last week and this weekend our community theatre was performing the play of it. She was enjoying the book and reading us excerpts so I knew the performance would be wonderful for her.

Loved the book.

It was perfect because it had so many young actors – even a few who Nia knew – so that kept her really interested. She was happy to have her beloved reindeer doll to sit with her through the show too. I was happy that I didn’t have to pay for a ticket for Clarice. (The tickets were a great price though, $5 for children and $10 for adults. Some of that money even goes to varying charities.) On top of all the specialness, Nia also got to enjoy refreshments after the show. Festive cookies and a candy cane. I love the question she gave me as we walked back to the car, almost finished with both cookies, “Aren’t refreshments usually meat and cheese and crackers?” Not a complaint, just a little girl trying to figure out her world.

Excited for the show to start.

Mommy/Daughter Date

Talented Cast

Enjoying refreshments.

The sweetness of it all made me tear up. The carols at the end of the play really did me in. Luckily, Nia was there to hug my arm and distract me with her forward thinking. Can we watch all the plays? I promise to take her to as many kid-appropriate ones that our schedule allows.

Checking our calendar now …

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The Shopping Dead

26 Nov

They came out in the still of the holiday night. A chill was in the air. They loaded into their cars, armed with extra store coupons, a list of must-haves, caffeine and attitude. The people they were just minutes before were consumed with the desire to find the best deal. Black Friday Fever had possessed them and it wasn’t going to let go until they were finished loading up their shopping carts, swiping their plastic money and spreading rudeness like it was a lingering heavy perfume.

Tear it up!

I’m not saying this is the case for allday after Thanksgiving shoppers. Some were quite pleasant. They must be immune to the fever. Maybe the others act like this on a daily basis. Clearing throats instead of saying excuse me. Yelling at others for not driving the way they want them to drive. Checking out one item at a time while a line of other shoppers grumbles behind you. Tearing through folded clothes like you were looking for the one diamond in millions of Christmas tree icicles. Leaving empty cups of coffee on store shelves like they were trash cans. Rolling over hangered clothes that fell off the rack, never thinking twice about picking it up.

And that wasn’t even close to the worst concerning the lack of manners and zero sense of decency. The majority of media reports told of a range of horrors, including one where a woman pepper-sprayed other shoppers to get her hands on an Xbox.

What makes people act in such a way? Greed? Desperation? The need to keep up with the ones who don’t have to shop for deals? Just the lure of the good deal? A most-for-the-money mentality?

I am guilty of being out in it that day (and past days). I try to laugh my way through the lunacy. I read about my friends’ sale successes on Facebook and how they had a fine time getting their low price products. Typical shoppers do exist among the shopping dead. How refreshing. Go forth and try to always shop with a peaceful, kind and courteous consumer heart.

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Some people have fine china…

19 Nov

or some other special heirloom like a painting or jewelry that they hand down to their children when they reach an age when they can understand its importance, respect and appreciate it. This moment recently happened for Nia when I introduced her to the movie, Grease.

I actually can’t remember the first time I watched it because I’ve seen it so many times. I know I was 10 or younger. I have fond memories of watching it with my sister and also with my friend, Mary Lou. We would repeat the lines and sing along. We quoted it when we weren’t watching it. My sister and I had the album and I remember starring at the pictures on it as I listened. I even got to see Grease on Broadway in New York City. It is cherished.

I wasn’t sure if Nia would feel the same way. Or if she was even really ready for it. I know I didn’t realize most of the stuff they were saying but Nia is way more attentive and inquisitive. She asked questions through the entire movie and reviewed it. Nate even throw in a few peanut gallery comments as he caught scenes here and there.

  • “Why are the Pink Ladies making fun of Sandy? I thought they were friends.” (Inquired during “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee.”)
  • “They are licking tongues!” (Nate’s reaction to the parking scene with Rizzo and Kenickie.)
  • Major giggles from both when Danny pulled the umpire’s mask after the foul ball call.
  • More giggles when Danny raises his arm in the air at the end of “Summer Nights.”
  • Censorship by daddy in the form of a loud clearing of his throat during a lyric about not being respectful to girls in the song, “Summer Nights.”
  • “They have wine!” (Reacting to the wine at the sleepover.)
  • “They always get mad at each other and then make up and then mad again.” (Nia’s general perception of Danny and Sandy’s relationship.)
  • “Sandy becomes this girl?! No way.” (Nia, pointing to the DVD case with red high-heeled Sandy on it.)
  • “What’s that called where they are? (I answer.) Drive-ins look cool. Do we still have them?
  • “The T-Birds aren’t being nice to Eugene.” (Said each scene with Eugene.)
  • “They used speakers back then? Now we have tvs for morning announcements.”
  • “Can I watch it again?”

She even asked to watch Grease 2 but she wasn’t digging that it wasn’t Danny and Sandy. As for me, well, I love a cool rider and I’m so happy to share this with her.

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Stress-mares

15 Nov

With the known disclaimer that I am not a licensed professional with years of education behind me and a Ph.D. or some respected title after my name, I am diagnosing myself with a chronic case of stress-mares.

These things started a few days ago and have returned nightly. Here’s a synopsis of each one I remember:

    • I was pregnant and had a another little girl. (I am NOT.) I immediately knew it wasn’t real because the baby in the dream had hair. (Both Baby Nia and Baby Nate were hair challenged.)
    • Suffered through alien sickness complete with special effects and gross out moments that I will never be able to completely erase from my memory. (I blame my yuck cold and NyQuil for this dream.)
    • Nia failed a test. I have zero clue why this would be stressing me out. She is a responsible and engaged top student and – why am I worried anyway? It’s not my test and as Andrew comforted me, “Well, it’s going to happen.” Cue second stress-mare.
    • My car wouldn’t start. Just thinking about that one freaks me out. The panic I felt as I kept trying to start it. No idea why. It’s not like I was trying to escape a murdering maniac or anything. Just couldn’t start my car.

I realize these aren’t typical scary dreams. For me though, they are concerns I’ve had at one point or another and now I can’t even shake them in my sleep.

Can’t wait to see what fear invades my subconscious tonight. Hopefully it’s not the one involving …

 

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What You Make of It

9 Nov

When life gives you lemons, you:

a) Painstakingly hand squeeze each lemon to the last drop, removing seeds and pulp one by one and counting each grain of sugar used.

b) Chuck Norris style kick those little yellow b’s into smithereens in a room you don’t have to clean up.

c) Gently squeeze each sun shiny fruit like a hug from a child, smiling and happily humming the whole time. Sit outside and sip, anyone?

d) Buy some Sweet Tea Vodka so you can chop those things up and add a splash and a slice.

e) Hand the lemons to someone else who needs them and will be very grateful for the opportunity to make something with them.

f) Patiently wait for the lemon to ripen, use it to help flavor a delicious celebratory meal and then plant a seed and wait for a tree to grow.

g) No thanks. I prefer Crystal Light.

h) Have an allergic reaction that needs medical attention.

So many ways to treat a sour situation. Thankful for no citrus allergies.

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