My Mom

 I'll admit that I haven't always appreciated my mom like I should.  The teen years saw many eye rolls and "Oh Mother"s. The older I get, the more I realize that she really is always right. Now that I'm a mom, I appreciate her even more.  She is the most amazing role model. She has the patience of a saint, and the cleanest most organized house I have ever seen. She can whip up an amazing meal on the fly, refinish furniture, and somehow she manages to do it all while looking so beautiful and put together. We used to joke that we had never seen my mother and Martha Stuart in the same room...that was before Martha went to jail...awkward...

My mom gives the best advice and carries herself with class and poise. She's the kind of mom I want to be and the woman against whom I measure myself.  I really don't know what we would do without her. She is the glue that holds our family together. 

Words always fail me to properly thank her for all that she has done for me and everything she means to our family, but here I try again: 

Thank you for always taking the time to talk with me. Whether it's giving me a pep talk to get through another day after a sleepless night or laughing together over the silliness of toddlers. 

Thank you for giving the best advice and for not telling me "I told you so" when I fail to take it. 

Thank you for not killing me as a colicky baby or a surly teenager. I've had my moments and you've loved me through them all. 

Thank you for always thinking of me, for text messages, cards, and care packages. 

Thank you for teaching me that a chocolate malt can fix almost any problem. 

Thank you for being a shining example of what it means to be a wife and mother. 

I love you Mom!  Happy Mothers Day!

To My Second Born

I see you sitting in your bouncy seat as you watch me prepare breakfast for your brother. You wait patiently for your turn. As our eyes meet across the kitchen, the biggest grin spreads across your face. You give a hopeful little coo, shake your head from side to side and chew on your hand in sheer excitement. You don't have the luxury of my full attention like your big brother did, but we have our stolen moments alone. Early in the morning before the sun is up, you sweetly babble while we snuggle. 

Quiet naps at home are a rarity for you, but you are content to sleep on the go as we run errands or go to play dates and the park.  I can't hold you all hours of the day as I have to attend to your brother. Many of your clothes and toys are hand me downs. 

There are a few advantages to being the second child. You have the benefit of my experience. I'm not as nervous with you. I don't panic when you start to cry. I've learned a few tricks, some mistakes not to remake, and a new theory or two to try. I remember little things like an extra change of clothes and a spare pacifier. 

You love watching your brother play and you're starting to interact with him more. You accept his rough but well intentioned kisses and endure the occasional bump from a flying toy. You have to be tough, you're a little brother. You adore one another and for that I am very grateful.  I spent many nights of hormonally fueled sobbing, worried about how you two would get along. 

You're only 3 months old, but it seems like you have always been part of our family. You are a little old soul who sighs deeply and furrows his brows, but you always have a smile for your mama.   Continue to be patient with me as I navigate this new role as mother of two. Know that while you have to wait sometimes to have your needs met, that you are never forgotten. You are so precious to me, sweet boy. 

Overcoming Mental Blocks

I've been practicing yoga for about 3 and a half years now. When I first started, I remember staring in awe as other students effortlessly performed some of the more complicated poses. They seemed to defy gravity and the laws of physics with such ease. I watched in amazement, while holding onto the belief that I would never be able to do that. As I have progressed in my practice, I have come to enjoy the challenge of learning a new pose, of being able to move my body in ways that I never thought possible. I have found that the key to mastering a tricky pose isn't about muscling my body into it, but rather letting go, finding lightness, and getting out of my head.  In yoga, as in life, the mental blocks are the most difficult to overcome. Very often, we are our own biggest obstacle. In order to grow, we must be willing to try new things and risk failing or looking silly. When we let go of our "I can't"s, we open ourselves to a world of possibility. 

Lady Magnet

Nothing in the world more quickly attracts a group of women like a new baby. Holding a baby is an open invitation for conversation. Logan is oblivious to his power as a lady magnet-an ability that he'll wish for in about 15 years!  Whether I'm at the grocery store, a restaurant, or church, women of all ages are eager to approach me, from little girls clutching their baby dolls to grandmothers with silver hair.

Elderly women are especially interested in seeing the baby. They offer time tested advice and sweet words of encouragement.  They share stories of their own babies now grown. I can see in their eyes that to them it doesn't seem like it was so long ago.  I imagine that there is something about being at the other end of life and wanting a glimpse of  the next generation with whom they leave the world. Babies represent unlimited possibility and hope for the future. As adults, we are defined by the choices that we have made, but babies offer a sense of renewal and a fresh start. They haven't made any life altering choices, shut any doors, burned any bridges. They know nothing of hatred, anger, or prejudice.  The future is in their tiny chubby hands and that is a powerful thing to witness. 

Parrot

Nothing makes you more aware of the words coming out of your mouth than a toddler who repeats everything he hears. I will admit to not having the cleanest mouth in my life BC (before children).  The restaurant industry is rough, to say the least. I've tried to clean it up as much as possible, but I've accidentally slipped the occasional expletive.

Listening to Carter speak is like holding up a mirror to myself. What phrases do I use so frequently that I am not even aware of them?  And how funny are some adult phrases when they come out of the mouth of a child?  Here are a few that I've heard Carter use:

Let's rock and roll!

Settle down. 

It's ok, Mama's here (used on both baby brother and the dogs!)

That's enough!

Good job!

Go for it!

One of my favorite things to do is to spy on Carter. Listening to him play make believe offers a glimpse into his mind.  I recognize phrases and snippets of his favorite shows, books, and songs. It's always fascinating to see what has stuck with him.  There are also things that surprise me. Where did he pick up some of these words? 

Sometimes I'll hear a phrase made unintelligible by his clumsy little toddler tongue. He'll repeat it frequently in the same context, so I know it means something to him. Despite turning it over in my mind again and again, I can't make sense of it. Then days later, we'll be watching a movie or reading a book and he'll repeat the phrase and it suddenly makes sense. One such example was "To infinity and beyond."  Thanks, Buzz Lightyear!

Counterfeit

I've been a mom for over 2 years and sometimes it hits me all over again. I'm a mom?  Of two?  I have a toddler?  When did that happen?

Somedays I feel like I'm playing house. I'm not worthy. My parenting theories are shaky at best.  I feel like a counterfeit, passing myself off as the real deal while questioning myself inside.  The real irony is that my little people look up to me with complete trust in their eyes, always believing that I have the answers.  Ha! If only they knew! 

I watch other moms out of the corner of my eye like a student cheating on a test. How does she resolve the same challenges?  Can I learn something from the way she handles her kids?  I suspect that other people feel this way too. Does anyone really feel like they have it all figured out or are we all just making it up as we go?

I remember calling my mom from the depths of sleep deprivation, desperately seeking a remedy to Carter's sleepless nights. Her answer surprised me. "I don't know," she said. Here was my mommy role model and she didn't have a magical  solution. How was this possible?  I felt like Dorothy, pulling back the curtain to find that the great and powerful Oz was just an old man. It was both scary and reassuring at the same time. If she doesn't have all of the answers, then it's okay if I don't either.

Emerging from Hibernation

The first couple of months after a baby is born is about survival.  Feed, diaper, repeat. The primary goal is meeting the needs of the new baby. Trying to sneak in a little sleep and food for yourself becomes an after thought. All nonessential functions come to a grinding halt. Cleaning, grooming, cooking, etc fall by the wayside, especially with multiple kiddos.  

Our household is just beginning to settle into a new schedule and sense of normalcy. There's something apropo about having a winter baby.  I have entered into a new season of life as a mother of two.  I'm reemerging from my hibernation as the temperatures rise and signs of Spring begin to appear. As Nature renews itself, so do I.

I have gained the confidence to go out with both boys.  Carter and I are both so happy to have a change of scenery and visit with our friends. I find myself relying on the Moby (a baby carrier) much more this time around. With a toddler to care for, having free hands is necessary! 

Logan is now taking a bottle, so I even have a bit of personal freedom.  After 2 months of constantly caring for my boys full time, leaving the house alone feels foreign. Like an amputee misses a limb, I feel like I am missing a piece of myself. 

I've begun running again and even returned to yoga class this week. It feels good to get sweaty and challenge myself physically.  I'm slowly beginning to feel like myself, but my sore muscles remind me that I have only taken the first steps on a long journey.