Dear Bennett, Months 37 - 45

Dear Ben,

Last month, you came into our room a little before 6:00.  We said it was too early and told you to go back to bed. 

About 10 minutes later, Jack came in and said, "Where's Ben?"  We told him you were probably in the living room or kitchen.  We started to get up and Jack came in and said, "The back door is open and Ben's boots are gone."

That got us out of bed real fast.  I ran out to the back yard (in my pajamas) and started yelling your name.  I didn't see you anywhere.  My eyes were filling with tears as I started walking through the neighbor's back yards and trying to see through the woods to see if I could spot you.  Suddenly, through the trees, I heard you say, "Hey!  Mom!" as your little silhouette emerged from the brush.

I grabbed you and scooped you up and hugged you as I told you how worried we were and how you were to NEVER leave the house without telling us again.

You just looked at me and said, "What?  I just really wanted to catch that cat.  Wouldn't it be fun to have a cat?"  I shudder to think about what might have happened if that cat had run into the street or down to the lake.  And once I had regained composure, we had a very serious talk about why that was NOT okay.

That moment last month wasn't the last time you wandered off.  It's happened a few more times, and every time it scares me.  We're working on that.  I honestly believe that 95% of the time it's not disobedience . . . it's just curiosity.  Nonethless, I'm looking into door alarms.

You, my sweet boy, are our little free spirit.  You just follow your heart wherever it might take you.  While this makes parenting a lot more challenging, I also love this about you.  Sometimes, I'm even a little envious.  I love it that you have few inhibitions.

I told someone recently that you're my "complicated" child.  Not in a bad way . . . just in a, well, complicated way.  Managing your brother at this age was always very straightforward . . . A + B = C.  With you, A + B = C, but only on in the morning.  Sometimes, after naptime, A+B/2 = C.  And Sometimes, A and B aren't even available.  I don't know if that makes sense, but it's the best way to describe you.  It takes more work for us to figure you out . . . but when we do?  It's so, so worth it.

When you do something that  you know you shouldn't have, you say something like, "I still love you when you get mad at me.  Do you still love me if I spilled juice on your bed?"  It's hard to be upset when you start with that.  You're the best 3-year-old I know and I love you no matter what!

Love,

Mama

Victory.

You know that moment where you're sitting in the living room with your head in your hands, listing to your child throw a tantrum in his bedroom, wondering if you did the right thing by taking away his bedtime snack and story?  I had one of those moments this week.

And a few minutes later, Ben walked out of his room and said, "I'm sorry, Mom.  I know what I did was wrong.  I'll do better tomorrow."

Victory.

Baby Cows

I don't really care what the thermometer says.  The calender doesn't really matter, either.  Spring is here.

How do I know?  Baby cows.  There are baby cows in one of the fields that we pass every day on the way to school.  We watch for them with anticipation every spring and last week, I just about jumped out of my seat when I saw the first one.  And then there were two the next day.

We first noticed the baby cows (yes, I know they're called calves, but we've always called them the baby cows so that's what I'll stick with) two years ago during Jack's first year of preschool.  We often see the mothers nursing their babies near the fence on the way to school and, well, I'll just say it . . . it's magical.  The car gets silent for a few seconds and then there's a collective "awwwww" every morning.

The last two weeks have been particularly stressful.  I needed to see those baby cows last week.

There may be snow in the field, but the baby cows are there, too.  Spring is here.

Dear Claire, months . . . er, 11 - 15ish

Dear Claire,

Oh darling third child . . . I love you so much.  It's been a long time since I've written a letter and I don't even know how to sum up the last four months.  Had I written monthly, every single letter would have been very different.  You've transformed from an easy going, smiles-all-the-time child to a scowling, has-her-own-opinions-and-her-own-timeline child.   You're not difficult.  Sometimes I think you are, until I remember that I'm just comparing you to how you were four months ago, and not to truly difficult children.  You've just developed an attitude.  I think it will serve you well in the future, but right now it just makes things more challenging.  You scowl at every new person you meet, simply because people laugh at you every time you do it.  Along with your attitude has come this high pitched shriek that I have nightmares about.  It's your way of being heard in a noisy house with two very active brothers,  I know.  Nonetheless, your dad and I cringe every time we see you winding up!

One thing that hasn't changed is that you still LOVE me.  You prefer me to anyone.  Even when one of your grandmas is around, you eventually make your way back to me.  I love it when we see each other for the first time when I get home from work, or when you wake up.  Today was probably my favorite.  Your dad got you up from your nap and you heard my voice in hall.  "Moooom!" you screamed.  You can mimic your brothers' way of calling me so well.  You scream "Moooooooom!" from your crib each morning and after every nap.  I don't even know that you think of it as my name as you do a way to get someone's attention.

Today, though, I heard you scream it from your room as Dad was changing your diaper.  I peeked my head around the corner into your room and then pulled back real quick.  You gasped and then gave this low, continuous chuckle that made both your Dad and I laugh.  I feel the same way about you.

The lessons I'm learning so far in 2013 revolve around expectations of relationships and, well, not to have them.  Actually, no . . . I wouldn't actually say that I'm learning this in 2013.  I would say that I'm realizing this, after 34 years of experience.  Don't place expectations on relationships, because they'll likely be unmet and you'll often walk away disappointed.

The exception to this rule is, of course, my relationship with your Dad.  My expectations of what our marriage would be like have far surpassed anything I had hoped before I met him.  I hope you'll feel the same way about your husband someday.

I know that the paragraph before last makes me sound bitter or jaded, but it isn't meant to.  I guess I'm just more aware.  Whether it's friends or family, often things just don't turn out the way you think they will.  Friendships that you are sure will be close forever drift apart, simply because of circumstances or geography.  The expectations you have of how relationships with family will play out aren't always met.  There are also acquaintances that you never really expect much of that become some of your best friends.  Had someone told me this 15 years ago, I would have scoffed, thinking that I had control over these things.  But there are some things in life that just happen.

I tell you this because I sometimes wonder what our relationship will be like 20 or 30 years from now.  Will you call me?  Will you see me as a nag?  Will you hold a grudge toward me about something that I said when you were 6, that you just can't let go of?  Will we be friends?  Will you admire me?  Will you talk to me about your classes or relationships?  It's so hard to imagine that you, for whom I make every decision now, will someday be completely independent from me.

Will we get together for lunch?  Will we live close to each other?  Will you ask for my advice?  Will you ask me not to give so much advice?  I will try not to be overbearing or worry about this too much.  But if you're reading this right now and you're 30, give me a call, will you?

Love,
Mooooom!

Jack's 5th birthday party

Jack turned 5 last June.

That's right . . . almost a year ago.  I'm a little behind.  Admittedly, these photos aren't the greatest . . . most were taken on my phone at the last minute as guests were arriving.

He wanted a super hero birthday . . . he was so into super heroes.  Any super hero.  He still is.

All of the kids made their own capes . . . we had a kit for each child that came with a satin cape, their initial, an initial backer and lots of felt stickies to decorate with.  Once they were done decorating, we didn't really see much of the kids until it was time to open gifts.  They ran in circles playing "super hero" and were thoroughly entertained!

 

 

 

We also had pre-assembled capes for Claire and Hayleigh, neither of whom were mobile at that point!  So sweet.

 

We did everything in a super hero theme, though over the course of planning, it morphed intro a comic book theme, kind of.  Jack didn't care, so I didn't either. 

Just perfect

We had the perfect afternoon and evening.

No . . . really.  Sometimes I write things like that and people assume I'm being sarcastic.

This afternoon really was perfect.

Kyle's on call this weekend at camp, so when Jack got home from school, he had to go over to camp to check on our groups staying in the lodges.  On a whim, I said, "Hey!  Do you guys want to go with him and go sledding?!"  I'd seen pictures on facebook all day of friends sledding with their kids.  Stupid peer pressure.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back.  4 - 7 is the hardest time of day.  The kids are hungry, tired and cranky . . . as are we.  I knew that any sort of outing involving layers of clothing, traveling and braving the elements was a recipe for disaster.

But I said it, and there was no going back.

I scrounged to find the boys' old snow play clothes for Claire and Kyle got the boys bundled up.  Claire fussed all the way to camp and I was picturing myself having to sit with her in the car while Kyle broke up fights between the boys over who got to sit in the front on the sled.  I commented to Kyle that I must have been insane to suggest sledding with all three.

 

I was wrong.  It was the perfect afternoon. Sure there was some whining and one meltdown, but we had SO much fun.  Snowball fights, climbing the hill, sledding down.  There was plenty of snow, but it didn't really feel that cold.  We laughed.  We played.  It was really good.  Claire just laughed at her brothers (with the exception of one face-first dive into the snow).

Today was what I needed.  Over the last few weeks, we've started to sell and give away a lot of our baby equipment.  This has been so difficult for me.  I know that we're done having kids, and I'm happy for that, but there's still this sadness over that stage of life being over.

 

 

This afternoon, I felt a huge peace about our family being complete and enjoying the phases we go through . . . and even the completion of those phases.

After sledding, we stopped at the Cedar Center for hot chocolate and then picked up soup from the Beach Bar for dinner.  We all sang and laughed on our way home and at one point I asked Kyle, "Can you believe this is OUR family?!" 

We're so blessed.

.

Bennett turns (er, turned) three!

 

Bennett turned three in September and we had a firefighter birthday party for him!  It was a lot of fun and Brian brought over a fire engine from the local fire department.  The kids really enjoyed seeing that.  SEEING it.  The sirens, however?  Not so much.  Let's just say that there were tears.

We served chili and let everyone roast their own hot dogs. 

 

 

 

Along with Maria's cupcakes, I made a little cake with a firefighter's bad on it.  It was lopsided.  It tasted okay, but it looked like Ben made it.  In retrospect, I should have just told everyone that he did.  It was not good.  Thank goodness we had lots of other sweet treats to make up for it!

I think, of all of the birthday parties I've thrown, this was the most fun and the one that I was most on top of.  There really wasn't anything stressful about it and it kind of all fell into place.

 

As usual, Ben wanted no part of having his picture taken, so this was the best one I could get of my sweet little three-year-old.

 

Date Night

Tonight was so great.  Debbie and Brian came over to watch the kids so that Kyle and I could go into Ann Arbor for date night.

And when I say "date night," I mean going to the doctor's office, driving over to get a chest x-ray, getting a call on the way home letting me know I do, in fact, have pneumonia, and waiting at the pharmacy for drugs.  Fun times.

The good news?  The strep throat is gone.  Yay, me!
The bad news?  If we weren't married, I'm not sure Kyle would ask me out again.

The whining and complaining is welling up in me, but then I remember that we are a healthy family.  This is the worst that it gets and in the grand scheme of things it's not that bad.  We have access to antibiotics.  We're in a medical system that has some of the best doctors in the country.

This week has been unfortunate, but we are a blessed family.

This week has been unfortunate, but we are a blessed family.   This week has been unfortunate, but we are a blessed family.     This week has been unfortunate, but we are a blessed family.  I'm just going to be sitting here chanting this for a while I remind my lungs to continue taking in oxygen . . .

This blog will survive . . .

I will get back into the habit of blogging, if for no other reason than to make sure my two youngest children don't complain about having less record of their lives than their older brother.  It's not so much the time issue (thought that's a major factor), as it is the writer's block.  Every time I open a new post, my mind goes blank and I want to type things like, "My kids are getting bigger" and "They grow up so fast" and my favorite, "It feels like just yesterday . . . "

Sometimes, I feel like I've just lost it.

However, I've put 6 years into this blog.  6 years of jotting down memories and telling stories that sometimes even surprise me when I go back and read them, because I would have forgotten had I not written them here.  On my list of things to do is exporting my blog posts into a book (likely through blurb), although I started that 4 years and two children ago and haven't quite finished.

Anyway, here's what's been going on over the last month:

• Claire turned one . . . I promise to post about her first birthday.  Right after I post about Jack's 5th from back in June and Ben's 3rd from back in September.  And those will happen right after I process the photos from all of those parties.  She's been in a cranky mood since Christmastime, and we finally put her on an antibiotic for her ears this week.  And just like that . . . she's back to her happy cheerful self.  She's definitely developed a fiestiness to her.  She likes things her way and she likes them RIGHT. NOW. but nothing out of the ordinary for a toddler.  My baby is a TODDLER!
  
• Christmas was fun.  Well, Christmas day, right up until 8 PM was fun.  The days surrounding Christmas were awful.  We picked up Jack on his last day of school and he threw up IN. THE. CAR. on the way home, setting off a chain the stomach bug that left someone in our house puking every day from the 21st - 27th.  Except for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day . . . leaving us just enough time to go out and infect our family and friends.  Claire's party was supposed to be on the 26th, but was postponed to the 30th to avoid spreading any more "Christmas cheer" than we already had.
  
• December, as usual, was the most wonderful time of the year, complete with the lack of sleep, stress and other chaos that comes with it.  It was my 6th Christmas in business, and Kyle and I agree that it was the hardest on us, but neither of us can figure out why.  Sales were level with last year.  Maybe having another child made it crazier?  We can't really put our finger on it.
  
• Jack was Student of the Month in December.  Though we're not really sure what that means, we are proud of him.  He's doing really well in school.  He was supposed to be acknowledged somehow in an assembly today, but he's been sick this week and missed it.  Fortunately, he'll get another chance in February.  I told him before I dropped him off at school last week that I pray for him and his teachers every morning.  He was upset that I didn't pray for his principal, so I quickly added him to the list.  That night, he sat down and told me everyone else I should be praying for . . . specific names of friends, lunch room ladies, librarians, etc.  I told him that he could pray for those people on the way to school, while I pray for him, his teachers and his principal.  I love how much he cares.
  
• On Sunday night, I went to bed with a sore throat and woke up with an even worse sore throat.  I figured it was sinus drainage and went about my day.  At about 3:00 I was home alone with Ben and Claire.  Over the course of about 30 minutes, I went from playing with them to laying down on the floor and feeling like I was dying.  It continued through the night and I really thought I had the flu.  Kyle took me to the doctor and they told me I have strep throat.  I remember having it when I was a kid . . . about a day after I started on antibiotics, I'd bounce right back and all was good.  Apparently, things are different when you're an adult.  You don't just "bounce back."  Never have I felt so old.  On top of that, I've had a pesky little cough all week that has turned into full blown hacking tonight.  Fantastic.  I'm just praying that Kyle doesn't get sick.  I will not be able to function without him.  He's pretty much held everything . . . EVERYTHING . . . together this week.
  
  One great part of the week, though, was Jack telling Kyle that he hates being away from home when he knows that someone in our family is sick.  Tonight, Jack and I were home alone and I was in the bathroom coughing like crazy.  Jack came in with a full glass of water and said, "Are you ok, mom?  I got this for you?  Do you need anything?"
  
• I spent $103 at the dentist on Monday, for her to tell me there's nothing wrong with my teeth.  They're just really sensitive.  Though given what I know now . . . I might have given her strep throat, so I guess she earned her $103.
  
• Ben has grown up really fast over the last month.  He just understands more and can express himself more.  He love preschool, though he protests about going every morning.  I think he really just likes to be home.  It's so good for him to get out and interact with other kids.
  
  Even though he's grown up, he's still my cuddler.  He loves to just sit in my lap and cuddle up.  I know he'll soon be too big (he kind of is already), but I just try to soak it up.  He loves to "read" to me too.  Books that he's heard over and over, he has memorized.  But books he's not as familiar with are the best, because he'll just make up stories to go with the pictures.  Jack never did this . . . I think he was too much of a perfectionist to try and read a story and not get every word exactly as it's written.  Ben on the other hand, comes up with all kinds of things when he's "reading" me the stories.  He's got a great imagination.
  
  
  

Dear Jack

Dear Jack,

Both your dad and I dropped you off at school yesterday morning.  We had anniversary plans to go Christmas shopping for the day and your brother and sister were with a babysitter, so it was just the three of us.  I hugged you and told you that I love as you hopped out of the car. I heard you yell something about "you too" as you jumped out of the car, gave your principal a high five and disappeared into the school.

Dad and I shopped for a while and stopped for lunch at Chipotle.  I sat down while your dad ordered, because I haven't been feeling well this week and was a little dizzy.  While I waited, I pulled out my phone and quickly scanned facebook.  I froze on a post from our local news station . . . something about a shooting. 

At an elementary school. In a Kindergarten classroom.

I went to a news website and sat in Chipotle and cried as I read your Dad the news stories about what was going on in Newtown, Connecticut.

I spent the rest of the day with red blotchy eyes as I put myself into the shoes of those parents over and over.  I thought about what it might be like to know that watching you disappear into school was the last time I'd ever see you. I fought the urge to race to your school and pick you up. I thought about how horrifying it would be to get the news that something like this had happened at your school.  In your Kindergarten classroom.  I thought, too, about your Aunt Karina and what it was like for those educators' families.

Last night, your dad and I cried as we imagined what it would be like to go through what those people were going through last night.  The empty bed.  The siblings who just couldn't understand.  Thinking about how terrified their children must have been.  The process of identification.  There are few times when I've been as sad as I am right now.  Just thinking about those parents' pain is crippling . . . it's unfathomable to think about what they're experiencing. My heart aches for them.


I hope that it will be many, many years before you hear anything about this tragedy.  I can't help but wonder, though, if when you do hear about it, you'll think back to this time that you'll remember how we hugged you and your siblings every 10 minutes and told you that we love you so much that you now roll your eyes every time we say it.

This morning, you asked why I won't stop hugging you.  It's not that we love you more now than we did yesterday.  We've just been reminded how quickly it can all be taken away.  We're not guaranteed another year, day or minute with you.  I will not take that for granted.

Love,
Mom

Ten.

I'm lifting my 8 week blogging hiatus to share this photo . . .

This was taken 10 years ago today.  When I see this, I can't help but think of one thing . . . how much bigger my boquet was than what I had requested.  I wanted a small round bouquet of roses, but I knew, even as we were ordering them, that the florist just wasn't getting it. 

And even though a bouquet that was twice as large as I had anticipated seems like something I would have stressed out about . . . I don't think I stressed about anything on that day.  Well, maybe I did, but I certainly don't remember it. It was probably my favorite day ever, closely followed by each of my children's birthdays.  I was so nervous and so in love.  I'm not nervous anymore, but I'm still very much in love.


I remember on our honeymoon talIking several times about "where we'll be in 10 years."  I think we guessed that we'd have a house (check) and three kids (check).  We did NOT think we'd still be living in Michigan . . . even so, I don't think anything we could have imagined 10 years ago could have been more perfect than where we are today.

I don't deserve Kyle and he doesn't deserve me.  It's by the grace of God that we get to spend the rest of our lives together.

I'm one lucky girl.

Claire at 10.5 months

At 10.75 months, Claire . . .


. . . walked across the room once, with the enticement of gerber puffs.  Hasn't done it since and doesn't seem to have any plans to.

. . . talks, talks, talks, but can only actually say, "Mama", "Dada" and "Bye bye."  We think she might say "Ben" too, but it's hard to tell.

. . . is still pretty happy, but is beginning to show her feisty side when she doesn't get her way.

. . . is just about done with taking a morning nap.  Boo.

Cody

Ben's been telling us about his friend Cody since the very first day of school. Every day when I ask him who he played with, he responds, "Cody" and goes into great detail about what they do together.  They play with the fire truck, play with the cars . . . and they play hide and seek.  He says that they play hide and seek quite often, which always makes me laugh because the preschool classroom isn't that big.

It made me feel good.  From the first day of school on, I knew that Ben had made a friend and it was comforting to me.

At Ben's field trip last week, I asked him if Cody was there and he said yes, but couldn't point him out to me.  There were 150 kids/parents there, so I didn't think anything of it. 

Then at Ben's Halloween party on Tuesday, I asked a teacher from his class which child was Cody and she replied, "We don't have a Cody in our class."

So I asked the other teacher and she gave me a puzzled look.

Um, what?

So, I went and asked Ben, "Where's Cody?"  And he just threw his hands up and shrugged.  At this point, I was a little worried that the teachers would think I was crazy.  So, I asked again, "Ben, you tell me every day that you played with Cody.  Is he in your class?"

Ben just kind of smiled and said, "He's at home still asleep."

Ben's friend Cody is 100% imaginary

When I say that Ben has talked about him, I don't mean just once or twice.  When Jack came home from school that day and asked Ben what he did at his Halloween party, he specifically asked what Cody dressed up as . . . because we all know that Cody is Ben's preschool friend.

And to my surprise, Ben replied, "He dressed up as The Flash.  Like me."

I interrupted and said, "Oh, Cody was at the party?  I thought he was still asleep.  WHere was he when you were decorating cookies?" 

"He was sitting right by me at the table," he said  All I could do was laugh.

I know that lots of kids have imaginary friends.  But really?  How many parents go two months without realizing that they're child's friend is imaginary?!

I should add that he does talk about several other children quite a bit . . . and I've now confirmed that they are all real.

Halloween

Halloween 2012 was fun . . . and COLD! Even so, the boys were so thrilled to be in their costumes, they had no trouble posing for pictures.

 

Claire on the other hand . . . not so excited about it.  

It was cold, and trick or treating was short, but it was one of my favorite Halloweens so far.