For Now, Us Takes A Back Seat

Today Clif and I "celebrate" 9 years of marital bliss.

I put celebrate in quotations because other than a quick kiss on the cheek and a whispered "Happy Anniversary" followed by a mumbled "You too" before I left the house this morning, there won't be any typical celebrating.

We won't toast champagne over an elegant steak dinner.  We won't lie on the beach for hours as our fruity drinks sweat in the Caribbean heat.  We won't spend all day watching a movie marathon with take-out on our couch.

This week has seen little shut eye with a coughing Cohen, a puking Freddie, and a big school project that Ainsley needs to finish before tomorrow.  I think both of us would trade the beach for a secluded bed in a dark room for the next 72 hours.  Still, beats last year when we were battling the lice.  That is actually one of my favorite posts.  It is absolutely the truth about marriage.

I think back over the last nine years.  Nine is not a very exciting anniversary.  Just shy of that decade mark. Years behind our predecessors.  Years ahead of the newlyweds out there.  Still, a lot has happened in nine years.  We've been broke, we've been uprooted, we've grown our family, we've lost loved ones.  A lot of life happens in nine years.  And when you start stacking nine years on top of nine years on top of nine years, before you know it a lifetime will have passed.

So last night, Clif and I were joking about our anniversary and how it never seems to be about us anymore.  I said "I passed right by a CVS today on my walk and I didn't even go in and get you a card."  He said "Well, I didn't get you one either."  And we laughed.  Because we both think cards are a waste of money but it is a small, fairly simple gesture.  Yet neither of us took the time to do it.

"We aren't very good at making it about us," I said.  And he said, "Look around.  How could we possibly?  Don't worry babe, one day it will be all about us again."

And he's right.  One day there won't be sick kids to sit up with.  There won't be projects cluttering the kitchen table.  There won't be babies being born the day before with birthdays to celebrate every year.  There won't be lice to comb out and kill.

One day, we'll be able to celebrate our anniversary for weeks at a time if we so desire.  For now we'll just take the quick kiss on our ways to our respective days.

So Clif, Happy Anniversary.  We have seen ups and downs.  Good times and bad times.  I don't have time for you and you don't have time for me.  But we still love each other and we've agreed to stay on the ride...at least until next year.  We're already planning a 10 year anniversary vacation...without the kids.  After that, I'm not making any promises.

For Better or Worse

Today is Clif and my 8 year anniversary.  Eight years ago today we stood in front of our family and friends and promised for better or for worse to love and cherish one another.

Even when marriage is easy it's hard.  I would say that Clif and I have an easy relationship.  We don't argue a whole lot.  We're both fairly easy going.  And when it's just me and Clif, our marriage is a piece of cake.

Seven years ago, we went out to dinner and I was super pregnant with Ainsley.  My due date just one month away.  Even though I was swollen and cranky and tired and huge...that was so very easy.  And all those dinners and nights out and conversations and parties and concerts and trips were so easy before kids came into the picture.

Last year, we spent our anniversary in the hospital with our 1 day old.  We watched movies, held Cohen, and napped most of the day.  That also was pretty easy.

But I would say that most days are not so easy.  I love my husband and he loves me, but day to day life is hard.  Conversations are practically non-existent.  Date nights are few and far between.  We don't have the time or money for them.  We have not taken a trip, just the two of us, since our honeymoon.  Again, that pesky time/money/babysitter issue.

I am not saying that this is the "worse" in for better or worse, but I also wouldn't call it the better.  We always put off date night for kids events and activities.  Spend our date money on new shoes or school pictures or soccer registration when it's needed.

And I'm not complaining.  We love our kids.  Life is hectic and crazy, but we love it.  The problem is that it's not easy to remember to love and cherish when you're busy bathing and soothing and cooking and cleaning and commuting and working.  I can see where it would be very easy to forget those vows and instead, resort to nagging and resenting.  We know that we're supposed to make time for one another and keep the foundation of our family - our marriage - strong, but time is something we don't have a lot of.  Maybe we'll be able to go out to dinner at some point to celebrate our anniversary, but maybe not.  And if we do, it may not be until mid July or August.

This morning, I woke up after a very difficult night.  Clif was getting ready for work.  Cohen was sleeping in the bed between us.  The two older kids were still in their beds.  I was home because, well, I'm out of work once again today.  I woke up pissed off, in fact, I'm still pissed off.  See this year for our anniversary, we spent the night before cleaning and scrubbing and de-licing our kids.  Then I "slept" with visions of little bugs crawling all over me for about 3 hours.

Oh yeah, you read that right.  DE-LICING until well past midnight.

Neither of us even remembered our anniversary.  It wasn't until Clif mentioned something about Cohen's birthday yesterday that it dawned on me...June 10th...that seems significant...

I said, "Oh yeah...it's our anniversary."
Clif paused, looked at me, and said "Oh wow.  It sure is."

And that was it really.  Both of us too exhausted and annoyed to even say anything else.  Not necessarily annoyed with each other, but it is always easiest to take our frustrations out on our spouse, right?

So today?  Maybe today is the worse.  Because right now as I sit here and comb through hair finding tiny little bugs, as I scratch my head over and over again, as I scrub sheets and pillows and stuffed animals, I don't feel very romantic or in love.  I feel like I want to run to an island far, far, away and only have myself to worry about.  But marriage isn't always about love or romance.

There's no surprise ending to this story.  Clif didn't pick me up in a limo and wine and dine me all day.  He didn't send me to a spa.  He didn't send flowers.  And I didn't take him out for a nice dinner or buy him a new watch.  Hell, I didn't even buy a card.  Today will end and we will have been married 8 years.  And this year, it's gift enough that we're both planning on being here in another 8, 16, or maybe 50 years.  But then?  Well then I'm finding my freaking island.

Clif, I love you and if I have to pick bugs out of my kids hair at midnight on a Monday, well then I'm glad you're the one sitting next to me researching the process - even if I do burst into tears randomly and argue with everything you suggest.

Happy Anniversary!

The Facts of Life

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have...

Today I have been back to work for one month.  Cohen is four months now.  Ainsley and Freddie have been in school for five weeks.  We should be settling in to a new routine, but instead, I feel like my life is in a tailspin!

The first time you have a baby, you are shocked by the change to your lifestyle.  You wonder how you ever got anything done...EVER.  Laundry piles up, dishes don't get washed, dog hair accumulates in the corners, and it's hard to remember your last shower.

Then eventually, you adjust.  You figure out a new system that works.  I think after Ainsley it took me about a year.  Maybe you don't scrub the bathrooms once a week anymore and maybe toys scatter the living room floor, but you become okay with your new reality.

Then the next baby comes and you think, "well I've already done this, so I'll go back to my normal routine again."  But you forget how exhausting life is with a baby.  How you're nursing always.  How everything takes just a bit longer.  And that you now have this new person to fit into your family.  So again, toothpaste builds up on the bathroom sink, fingerprints don't get wiped from the windows, and mail takes over the counter.

Again...you adjust.  You nail that new system.  I think after Freddie, it took me less than a year...maybe 8-10 months.  Now hopefully you can get the sheets washed once a month and the toys just belong in the corner of the living room.  But again, you change your expectations and you learn to live in the new now.

So then you have a third baby...and wow, are you dense.  Because really, you think "I've done this twice, how hard can it be."  Hard.  It can be really hard.  So hard that you end up on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of your disgusting kitchen while your children run around naked because it's bath night - but you don't have time for a bath because it's also bedtime, and your baby gnaws on your arm because you haven't had time to feed him yet.

I walk in the door right around 5pm every night (side note...I leave work at 3pm - yeah NOVA traffic rocks).  In that moment the baby needs to eat, the dogs need walked and fed, the older kids want a snack, dinner needs to be cooked, homework needs to be completed, everyone wants to enjoy the cool weather outside, and all I can think about is crawling into bed.

I wonder how long it will take this time?  And I wonder what my new normal will be?  Before Cohen came along, I had a system.  A few simple chores each night, heavier cleaning on Saturdays, groceries on Sundays, a load of laundry every night.  Now, Clif has has gone to the store two nights in a row for things we can't get by without.  I'm not sure when I'll be able to fit in an actual trip.  I don't know when I'll be able to sign up for a 5K or train for it.  It may be years before I see the bottom of the hamper again.  Not sure if I'll be able to finish Cohen's letters before he outgrows the crib.

But I do know that we will all come out of this eventually.  We always do.  I have my moments of utter hopelessness.  I'm a crier.  It's the way I let off steam.  But somewhere in the back of my brain is always this little chant "This too shall pass, this too shall pass."  My life can be spinning out of control and a little voice keeps saying "This too shall pass, this too shall pass."

And it will pass.  The good and the bad.  It always does.  And even though I am eager for this constant overwhelmed feeling to pass, I can not wish away the days or hours.  They already fly by too fast.  So I will take the good with the bad.  Because the good is seeing Ainsley finally figure out a tough word in a book, even though I'm digging through the dirty clothes to find a pair of pants that haven't been spit up on.  The good is listening to Freddie sing a new song, even though the sink is too full of dishes to drain the pasta.  The good is seeing Cohen smile ear to ear, even while delicately removing the onsie he just pooped all over. 

Even in the chaos and mess, the good comes through.

The Flu

We get flu shots every year.  Well, the kids and I get flu shots every year.  I know I made Clif get one when Ainsley was first born, since she was too young to have one.  And I think he got one last year, or maybe it was the year before.

But the rest of us, do not miss a flu shot...except for this year.

I can blame it on lots of things...

-This is the first year in a long time that we have not been to the pediatrician all year.  It's a blessing, means my kids have not warranted a trip to the doctor.  They've been  healthy.  In fact, I can't remember the last time I missed work because of a sick child.  We've been for well visits, but my kids are old enough to be on the annual plan, and neither one of their birthdays fall during flu season.  So there was no reminder.

-The day they gave them at work I was out.

-I'm pregnant and this fall, was too tired and too brain dead to think about it.

...but really, I just blanked.

So we didn't get our flu shots, and it really didn't even cross my mind until early January.  I called 4 pediatricians in the area...all out.  I called CVS and stopped by the Target pharmacy...they don't give them to kids, even with a script.

I talked to my doctor at my last appointment, on Wednesday.  "The height of the season is over, but you might want to still get one.  Up to you."

Wednesday night Clif came home with a scratchy throat.

Thursday afternoon he left work early with a cough and headache.

Friday he stayed home with a fever.  Doctor confirmed...flu.

So I spent the weekend trying to keep the kids and myself away from him.  Even though he's been contagious for days.

This morning Ainsley had the shivers and said she didn't feel well.  No fever, but I'm pretty sure I see where this is headed.

We sent her to school.  I'm not sure it was the right decision.  But it will give me a chance to gather things up at work and prepare to telecommute for a few days if necessary. 

These things always remind me how hard it is to be a parent.  Making decisions based on instinct and answers from a little person.  I can't keep her home every time she doesn't feel like going to school.  Is this more?  Is this different?  Maybe.  Probably.  But I don't know really. 

Five and a half years in and I'm still just learning as I go.

Soak It up

Life speeds by.

It's not always easy to see what's really important.  There are lots of distractions.

Then something makes you remember.  Lots of things make you remember.  Even if they're a million miles away.  Happening to people you don't know anymore.  But for some reason that story, that picture, that song...it makes you remember that this life is fragile.  This life is fleeting.  This life is temporary.

In an instant everything can change.  And at some point, it happens to everyone.

When my instant comes, I don't want regrets.  I won't care if my house was clean or if I felt too fat that day to be in the picture.  I won't care if I made it to dance class on time or if I was too tired to read that 4th book at bedtime.  I won't care if I was being pushed out of bed by four little feet or if I didn't get that spreadsheet done on time.

I don't want to remember the times I lost my temper or the times I didn't listen.  In that instant when everything changes, I want the scenes floating before my eyes to be happy ones.  Ones where Ainsley is dancing and Freddie is giggling.  Ones where Clif and I are talking about our days before we fall asleep.

So if you come to my house and toys litter the floor or dinner hasn't been cleaned up, I was busy playing dress up or reading books.

If my kids are running crazy through the mall, I was letting them be kids and not expecting them to act mature.

If I'm late for an appointment, I was teaching a 5 year old to tie her shoes and getting one last kiss from a toddler.

If I don't get that promotion or that raise, I was celebrating my anniversary or leaving early to go for a long run.

I'm not sorry...I was remembering the important things.

Life is fragile.  Life is fleeting.  Life is temporary.  Soak it up.

A Story About a Minnie Mouse Purse and a Hello Kitty Necklace

I don't really remember how old I was.  Young.  So I'm going to go with 5 or 6.  I'm pretty sure we still lived in the green house on the creek.  The one with snakes in the basement.  And we moved out of that place when I was 6.  So we'll go with 5.  Plus Ainsley's 5 so that makes the story better.

So I was 5.  It was Christmas.  We were on our way to my grandparent's farm to exchange gifts and visit with our cousins.  I sat in the back seat with my brand new purse.  It was black, patent leather, with Minnie Mouse on the front.  I remember the strap being so long that I could wear it like a messenger bag.  Actually, Ainsley would call it a satchel.  I also remember the mouse ears and the big red bow. 

We stopped at a store just down the street from the farm.  I don't remember why.  But I do remember walking through the aisles.  I don't remember taking the purse off.  I don't remember putting it on a shelf.  But I do remember heading down the road and realizing it was gone.

I begged to go back.  My dad refused.  I cried.  He still refused.  We headed on our way, and my purse was gone.

That purse probably would have ended up in the bottom of a toy box.  I don't remember ever being crazy about Minnie Mouse and I don't remember loving to carry purses around.  However, I remember that moment when my stomach just crashed and this thing that I loved for the day was gone forever.  My dad spat lessons from the front seat, "You need to take care of your stuff," "I'm not keeping up with your stuff," "You're old enough to know better."

And all that was true.  I don't remember ever leaving something behind like that again.  So I did learn the lesson.  But it was a tough one to swallow at 5.

Yesterday, we left Target and as we pulled out of the parking lot Ainsley spoke up from the backseat.

"Oh no!  My necklace," she cried.
"What necklace?" I asked.
"My Hello Kitty necklace is gone.  I think I put it on the princess doll."

My initial reaction was, oh well...it's just a dumb little necklace.  But before I could say anything, Clif pulled into another spot.

"You put your necklace on a doll in the store?" he asked.
"Yes," she cried.

He was irritated, but he got out, opened the van door and took her back into the store.

They were gone for awhile.  They checked the toy aisles, the bathroom, the lost and found, the girls section.  No necklace.

Ainsley came back red eyed.

We drove on, the sadness in the car heavy.

"Ainsley, maybe we could get a movie and eat popcorn when we get home," Clif said as he glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

"Yes!" Ainsley exclaimed.  So we stopped and got the movie - The Smurfs...again.  Got back in the car and headed home.

It was a dumb necklace...just like it was dumb purse.  But I bet Ainsley won't be thinking about it 30 years later.  She probably won't have a story like this to tell because I'm sure the details will fly from her mind.  At some point in her life, she'll be angry with us.  She'll pull away and try her wings.  She'll throw fits and we'll have arguments.  She'll break the rules and we'll punish her. 

But somewhere deep inside, she'll know that Daddy was always on her side.  That he always had her back.  That he was always willing to do whatever it took to make her smile.  And that will be the story that she tells her kids.

****************************

Okay, so this post was meant to show you what an awesome father Clif is.  But this story actually has a very funny ending that I absolutely have to share.  After picking the movie and heading home, Ainsley found the necklace...on her neck!  Imagine that.  It had fallen below her shirt and she said "It must have just disappeared and then came back because it knew that I loved it." 

According To Ainsley - Shaving Simplified

I am reading to Ainsley in my room before bedtime (cause you know, she sleeps there now).  Clif walks in and takes off his shirt.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" Ainsley asks.
"I'm going to shave," he answers.

She literally jumps off the mattress and bounces into the bathroom.

"Can I watch, please, please, please?"
"Sure," he says.
"Why did you take off your shirt to shave?"
"So I don't get hair and shaving cream on it," he answers

I take this opportunity to fold laundry, pack my lunch, read my book, pick up toys lay on the bed and do absolutely nothing.

Ainsley perches herself on the toilet seat and waits for what comes next.

Clif spreads shaving cream across his face.
"Mommy, look at Daddy's face!  He is so silly."
Clif looks at me with white foam on his cheeks and chin.

"Daddy, are you going to shave your cheeks?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to shave that big hair on your chin?"
"Yes."

She's quiet for a minute.

"Daddy, why is that buzzing?"
"It's just my razor, it helps with shaving," he answers.
"When I am a grown up I can't wait to use one that buzzes," she responds.
"Well girls don't usually shave their faces," Clif tells her.
"Oh." She seems a bit disappointed.

Again, quiet.

"Daddy!  Be careful!"
"I'm being careful, Ainsley," he chuckles.

Her excitement can barely be contained.  She is up and down on the toilet seat, crossing and uncrossing her feet, jabbering on and on as I start to fall asleep.

I hear a crash and open my eyes to see her pinned between the wall and toilet.

Before Clif or I can say anything she yells "I'm okay!"  She jumps back up.
"Ainsley, just sit on the toilet and be still," Clif says holding back laughter.
"Okay Daddy, can I still watch?"
"Yes."

She leaps up again and throws her arms around his leg.
"Thank you Daddy!  You are the best Daddy!  I love you too much!"

"Daddy, you have some white stuff there," she points.  Clif shaves.
"Daddy, you missed that spot too," she points.  Clif shaves.
"Daddy, you didn't get all that big hair off your chin."
"I'm working on it, Ainsley," Clif responds.
"Okay Daddy, don't forget."

Ew, Just Ew...

If you know me in real life, you know that I do not like to discuss bodily functions.  Bodily functions are super gross to me.  I'm not very intimate with many people, so this is not something I talk about with most.  I don't even talk about it with Clif much.  It just 'ewws' me out.

But, I have to write this down...so why not share it with all of you...luckily, it's not about me.

If you know my husband in real life, you know that he is a bit...gassy.  Some of you, that really know my husband, are laughing hysterically at this since gassy is a very nice way of saying it.

Clif could win awards for his gassiness. 

Anyway, last week Clif, Freddie, and I are sitting at the table.  We had just finished dinner and I cleaned up and then gave Freddie a lollipop for dessert.  We are watching Freddie with his treat and all is quiet until I hear the oh familiar sound of Clif's rear end on a wooden chair.

I give him my typical disgusted look and Freddie says "What dat noisy-noisy?"

Clif and I laughed, which made him laugh.

Next thing we know, all is quiet again and Freddie is straining until we hear a little "POP" and he laughs hysterically.

Then again, strain, "POP," laugh.

"Freddie," I ask "did you just toot?"

"Yeah, me toot!"

Clif lost it.  He laughed so hard he had tears running out of his eyes.

Great Clif...great.  Awesome example for our 2 year old.  Heaven help me when he's old enough to compete with his father.  I may have to get my own apartment.

According to Ainsley - Bedtime

Yay, According to Ainsley is back!  I really love this weekly theme, I'm sorry it's been gone for so long.  I like the idea, that one day when Ainsley is older, I can let her read all of these.  I'm sure she'll get a kick out of them.

Okay, so a little background on this one.  Ainsley's a bad sleeper...you know, right?  If you've read my blog at all over the last 3.5 years, then you know this.  She doesn't go to sleep without a fight, she can't put herself to sleep, and she doesn't sleep through the night.

One night, last week was particularly bad.  I was at my wits end and could feel that I was getting ready to snap.  I had been lying with her for over an hour and I had diapers to wash and a basement to clean and lunch to pack and it was going on 10 o'clock.

So I got up, told her to stay in bed and not to wake Freddie and I walked out of the room.  She immediately started screaming and I decided I just needed to let it happen.  So I went down stairs.  I wasn't downstairs 5 minutes when I heard little feet and sniffling coming down the stairs. 

Clif and I walked her back upstairs and we both sat in bed with her.

Clif: Ainsley, it's time for bed.  You need to go to sleep.
Ainsley: I know, but I am not tired.
Me: If you don't go to sleep you'll be really tired tomorrow.
Ainsley: Can the puppies come in here?
Clif: Sometimes, does Brinkley get in bed with you?
Ainsley: Yes, he likes to come in my bed and then we can cuddle.
Clif: Does it wake you up when he gets in bed with you?
Ainsley: Yes.
Clif: Is that when you come into Mommy and Daddy's room?
Ainsley: Yes.
Clif: Well how about, instead of coming into Mommy and Daddy's room you cuddle with Brinkley and go back to sleep.

She thinks about this.

Ainsley: Well, I do sometimes go back to sleep.  But sometimes I have to come in your room so I can tell you something and then I am going to come back to my room and cuddle with Brink Brink and go back to sleep.
Clif: So you don't want to sleep with us, you just have to tell us something.
Ainsley (giggles and sighs): Um, yes Daddy.  I don't want to sleep with you sometimes.  Sometimes I just want to tell you something and come back to my room because my room is so beautiful.
Clif: Okay, well from now on how about you just tell me something then come back to your bed.

She thinks again.

Ainsley: Um, well, I think that I don't want to sleep in my bed. I think that when I wake up I will just sleep in your bed.

That night, Clif went to bed and I sat at the foot of Ainsley's bed while she didn't go to sleep.  I fell asleep propped up against her stuffed animals.  When I woke up at 3AM, she was snuggled up next to me at the foot of the bed.  I went to my own bed and 30 minutes later, she's opening the door and climbing in between us.  And so begins our nightly dance...

Just a Guest

Clif and I have been to lots of weddings.  I mean LOTS of weddings.  I can't count how many weddings we've been to, but one year before we were even engaged we went to 10...5 of which one of us were in.

Between the ages of 25 and 28 everyone you've ever met gets married.  Then you get a break.  And then 3 out of 4 of your younger siblings get married within 1 year!  And you and your kids are in all those weddings...it requires a very skilled act of juggling. 

Last summer, Clif was the best man and Ainsley was the flower girl in Cam and Amanda's wedding.  I had my hands full with a 3 month old who was breastfeeding around the clock.

Exactly one year ago this Saturday I was the matron of honor in my sister's wedding.  Ainsley was the flower girl.  Clif was a groomsman.  And Freddie was pure cuteness!  He didn't have an actual role in the wedding, but he was there and still breastfeeding most of the time.

Five months ago I was a bridesmaid, Clif was a groomsman, Ainsley was a flower girl and Freddie was a ring bearer in Caitlyn and Oliver's wedding.

As a bridesmaid or groomsman you have a lot to do the day of the wedding...hair, makeup, hang out with the bride/groom, participate in weekend plans with the wedding party...that is not easy to do with two children who also have to be dressed and ready to walk down the aisle.

Not that we weren't honored to be involved in all three weddings...we were, but it's not the carefree, easy time it was before kids.

Last weekend we went to a wedding and...wait for it...none of us were in it!!!  Clif's cousin got married in Connecticut.  We took a long weekend, hung out with Cameron, Amanda, Caitlyn and Oliver and went to the wedding on Saturday.

It was a pretty good time.  However, weddings?  Not the same when you've got kids.  In my younger days, I spent the first couple hours of the reception getting a bit tipsy so I could spend the last hour or so dancing.

Now, we spent the first hour running circles around the empty dance floor, then passed out in our seats for the rest of the evening.

But it was still a good time and a good excuse to wear our prettiest dress.

You're How Old?!?!?

I write letters to the kids on their birthdays, so...

Dear Clif,

Today you are 35.  Oh, whoops, was I not supposed to tell anyone that?  That is a really big number.  We won't talk about how old I'll be in a couple of weeks.

Anyway, I was thinking today about the last 10 birthdays we've spent together.

 For the first one, you were turning 25 (that is such a nicer number than 35, right?) and we had only been dating for a couple of months.  I took you to dinner at Olive Garden, gave you the Top Gun DVD and the American Pie soundtrack.  That year you gave me a diamond necklace.  You always were a showoff!

A couple of years later, when you were turning 27, I surprised you with a trip to Las Vegas.  Remember the little guessing game I had you play while opening your gift?  I filled a bag with poker chips and fake money and...well, I don't even remember it all now...but I'm pretty sure you didn't guess it.  I think I had to tell you.  For most of my birthdays, you took me to expensive amazing dinners at Ruth's Chris or Morton's.

Then for your 30th birthday we had a huge party with all your friends, a frozen drink machine and skip-and-go-nakeds.  It was a blast...and the last adult party we'd have, since we found out we were pregnant 2 months later.

Birthdays are a little less spectacular these days.  It's been awhile since we were in a position financially to plan such elaborate celebrations.  But even if we had the money, Morton's and Las Vegas are not really the best spots for our young children.

 This year, I tried to get us Dave Matthews tickets - they sold out, so we couldn't go.  Ainsley overheard me talking to your mom about it.  She looked up with tears in her eyes "Mommy, why can't I come to Daddy's birthday party."  So seriously?  Could we ever not include them in our birthday festivities?

Now, birthdays usually consist of dinner out at a kid friendly restaurant, homemade desserts afterwards, and crazed sugar-high children crashing way past bed time. Singing "Happy Birthday" by only candle light is a must and the brighter the gift bags the better.  Our diamond bracelets and spontaneous trips have been replaced with hand made cards and chocolate frosting kisses.

One day, we'll take those trips again.  We'll eat those incredible steaks again.  We'll shower each other with expensive jewelry and trinkets again.  But for now, I'll take the loud dinner at a hibachi grill, a concert by naked children, and cupcakes plastered to soft baby curls.

Happy birthday babe.  I love you.

Jaime

Don't Worry, We Had a Gift Card

I close the checkbook and toss it on top of the pile of bills.  A very familiar feeling settles over me, just like it does every weekend when I finish paying bills and organizing the finances.  Mostly fear.  Fear that they won't renew unemployment, fear that next month we'll have an emergency, fear that the savings account is almost dry.  But on top of that fear is the anger.  The anger runs hot through my heart and mind.  It burns through my veins and hijacks my thoughts.  Sometimes it's all I see. 

There was a time that I thought this would be a good thing.  That Clif could find something he really wanted to do.  That he would suddenly land in something that would change our lives.  But that was early on.  When the job loss was fresh.  Now a year in, there's not much of a silver lining.  No grand epiphany or opportunity has knocked at the door. 

I lean back in the chair and stare at the computer screen.  The numbers are in red.  I say a little prayer that my latest written check won't clear until Friday and that the groceries we have will last the week.  I place my hands on my swollen abdomen and feel the baby move side to side.  Ten weeks and he'll be here.  Ten weeks and another bill will pull from the dried up well.  Ten weeks and my pay will be slashed for maternity leave.

I breath deep to fend off the tears threatening to spill.  I'm pulled from my thoughts as the door gushes open and a giggling bouncing two year old flows through.

"Mommy!" she squeals and rushes to my arms.  Clif is behind her carrying a balloon from Chick-fil-A, a stuffed dog and the spilling diaper bag.

"Hi Ainsley!  How are you?  What have you been doing?"

"We goed to da pwaydround at da mall and goed to Tick-fa-aye!"

Clif interjects, "Don't worry, we had a gift card."  He says things like this often, we don't spend money on extras.  We use gift cards and find coupons and attend free events.

I smile as Ainsley pulls away to join her daddy on the couch.  He turns on Sleeping Beauty and they continue with their day, cuddling on the couch watching Ainsley's favorite Disney movie du jour. 

The same day they always have.  Daddy and Ainsley together always.

This post was written in response to a prompt at The Red Dress Club: This week we want you to recall something in your life that seemed terrible at the time, but looking back, brought you something wonderful.

Reminders

Some days are hard.  Some times, when you're knee deep in snotty tissues and hacking coughs and sprints to the bathroom, it's tough to put on a smile and appreciate being a mom.  I do appreciate it.  Every day I'm thankful for those soft curls and big blue eyes and tiny fingers that squeeze mine.  But there are days that I have to remind myself to love it.

There are days when you're just holding on, racing at top speed down a hill, trying not to fly over the handle bars.  Inevitably, you crash.  You hit a rock, no matter how small, at just the right speed and angle...then suddenly you're air born.  Screaming, clawing, tucking, angling...whatever it takes to protect yourself from the unrelenting asphalt below.

Saturday was one of those days.  It was the end to a tough week.  One of those weeks where those bad days string together and you forget when you slept and what you ate.  Hell, you forget if you slept or ate.

Clif was down and out with a stomach bug.  Ainsley and Freddie both seemed on the mend, but runny noses and coughs persisted.  On top of that, I'm getting it.  What it is, I'm not sure.  I had a combination of everything.  Nothing full blown, but everything battling for my attention.  Sore achy muscles, headache, congestion, raw throat.  I was not feeling the mommy vibe, but what do you do?  You push through, and let everyone know how miserable you are along the way.

I was not a good mommy Saturday.  I didn't play dress up. I didn't sing songs.  I didn't read stories.  I didn't bake cookies.  I barely made meals.  I did only what was needed to get by.  I went to bed feeling down.  Sad, that half my weekend was over and it had been wasted on illness instead of imagination and cuddles and laughter and silliness.

Freddie woke up with a smile on Sunday and I felt a bit better.  So we headed downstairs to make breakfast.  He played in the other room while I cooked.  When Ainsley appeared in the doorway, I greeted her with a big hug and a "Good Morning!"

She said "Good Morning!" back and from the living room I heard Freddie let out a huge giggle.  He ran, as much as he can run really, to us and threw himself into Ainsley's arms.  It was as if he hadn't seen her in days.  He planted a big open mouth kiss on her belly and wrapped his chubby arms around her waist

Ainsley reciprocated with a kiss on his head and pinch of his cheeks.  Freddie pulled away and laughed as he headed back to his toys.

In that moment, I stopped having to remind myself.

Sick Puppies

This sickness has descended on us once again. 

Freddie started it.  He woke up with a low-grade fever on Saturday morning.  This turned into a very high fever and full blown yuckiness on Sunday.  But I took him to the doctor, no ear infection, no strep.  Must be a virus.  Wonderful!  Nothing you can do for a virus but just wait for it to go away.

So Monday I stayed home.  If you're keeping count, that is 4 sick days in the 10 weeks I've been working at this new job.

Monday his fever broke, so it was back to daycare on Tuesday.  When I picked them up, Ainsley had a runny nose and I was informed that Freddie had not been himself all day.  But no fever.

Yesterday morning, I woke to find Freddie covered in a rash.  Ainsley, meanwhile, had picked up a cough to go along with her very runny, watery nose. 

Freddie stayed home with Nanny yesterday.  Doctor says he doesn't need to be seen and he's not contagious - Roseola.  He was contagious before the rash broke out.  Lovely!

Last night, Ainsley was up most of the night coughing...know what that means?  Clif and I were up most of the night.  Clif more than me.  I had spent the previous three nights up with Freddie all night, so he took the bullet on this one.

So today, Ainsley is home with Nanny.  Thank goodness for Nanny.  Otherwise I would have been out of work all week.

And now, Clif and I...not feeling so hot.  Maybe we're just tired.  Maybe if the weather got over it's whole bi-polar disorder no one would be sick.  Maybe this weekend we'll catch up on sleep. 

Maybe...maybe...maybe...

Hope you all are feeling well.  Happy Thursday.

Anything Else

I plunge my red, chapped hand back into the bucket of gray water.  I guess I should change it.  The baseboards would probably be cleaner if I used clean water, but I've already changed the water three times and I'm just tired.

I never clean like this.  To me, cleaning is picking up all the kids stray toys, running the vacuum and clearing the kitchen sink of dinner's dishes.  Oh and laundry.  Laundry takes up a lot of my free time.  Life is too short to clean like this all the time.  If I made it my life's mission to have sparkling white baseboards, a hair free bathroom that smells of bleach and a kitchen floor that doesn't stay with the knees in Freddie's pants then I'd never have time for anything else.

Anything else is what I love. 

Anything else is spending summer afternoons on the deck with Ainsley as she splashes in bowls of water.  Her curly locks wet and clinging to her cool skin.

Anything else is rocking Freddie to sleep each night.  Watching him as he nurses and drifts off so easily.  Humming softly as his eyes get heavier and heavier.  Breathing in the baby soap from his recent bath.

Anything else is cuddling with Clif and Ainsley on the couch for a good Disney movie.  Sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching Ainsley's eyes widen as Ariel and Flounder dodge a shark.

Anything else is taking Ainsley and Freddie on a walk through the neighborhood just as the rain is subsiding.  Ainsley bouncing ahead with her ladybug umbrella and Freddie mesmerized by the passing clouds.

Anything else is all four of us in bed together listening to a thunderstorm roll overhead.  The thrill and fear of it all too electric to sleep through.  But tomorrow is Saturday and we can all sleep in.

But today, Ainsley and Freddie are with Clif in Fairfax.  I'm spending the day in Richmond, making sure the house is ready.  Ready to go on the market, ready to show, ready for the open house, ready for another family, ready to move on.

I am alone and the absence of squeals and laughter and tears and crashes and toys and howls and conversation is noticible.  It's been a long time since this house heard so much silence.
I scrub the last foot of baseboard before dropping the rag in the cold, gritty water.  I look around and I'm pleased with the house.  I never cleaned like this for us, there's no time to clean like this when you're wrapped up in anything else.

This post is in response to a prompt over at the Red Dress Club: "Water gives life.  Water takes it away."

Are You Kidding Me?

I meant to write this post yesterday, February 12, 2011 - 6 years later, but between dance class, bridal showers, shopping and parenting, a post was virtually impossible.


Looking back on the weekend, I should have known what was coming.  I had never been to New York City.  I had always dreamed of being there. I had wanted so much to live that life. I had envied that fast paced, urban lifestyle.  So when Clif told me we were visiting his brother in Connecticut, I hoped that we would make it into the city.

Clif had more than just a surprise Valentine's Day trip up his sleeve.  After surprising me with Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, a hotel room in Times Square and dinner at the Rainbow Room, we were headed to the Empire State Building.

Getting to the top took some time.  There ware security checks and stairs and elevator rides and lines, but finally we stepped out into the brisk February night and looked down at the center of the universe.  At that height the wind was fierce and it was hard to stand still without shivering.  But I wanted to take in every angle, every detail.  For me, this was the highlight of the trip.  Standing on that balcony, looking over the edge, you could feel the pulse of the city below.  I took my time walking around the railing, stopping ever few feet to memorize the new view.

Before I knew it we were back where we'd started and I felt a little sad to say Well that's it, let's go to the gift shop.


Clif hesitated, Let's take a few more pictures.


I was cold and I had looked at everything, but I followed him to the closest corner.  He snapped a few pictures and stared down at the tiny cars and blinking lights.  A few minutes passed and I couldn't take the wind anymore Okay, I'm cold.  Let's go in.


I turned to leave, but the feeling of Clif's hand on my shoulder stopped me and I heard him say I have one more surprise.


I turned around and there he stood with a tiny blue box in his hand.  He said things that I remember, but I don't.  It's like trying to explain a dream.  You remember it and how it felt, but putting it into words is impossible.

He knelt down and said Will you marry me?


Are you kidding me? was the first thing that spilled out of my mouth, but eventually I said yes.

Sixteen months later we vowed for better, for worse, in sickness, in health, for richer, for poorer.  Six years later, we've seen most of those come to pass.  We've experienced the heartache of miscarriage and the joy of child birth; scary high fevers in the middle of the night and shrills of laughter at the dinner table; the uncertainty and fear of unemployment and the stability and relief of new jobs.

We'll celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary this summer and I look forward to the next 50.

Clif, thank you for being an amazing husband and a wonderful father.  I'm so lucky that 6 years ago on a cold winter's night, at the top of New York City, you picked me.  I love you.