If I Forget To Write Things Down...(freakishly long post)

...then they just disappear forever. Seriously. I promised that my "next post" would tell you all about Hunter's birth story, but it won't. And Hunter will be 5 months on May 3rd...so you see how ridiculously LAME I've been about documenting our little lives here. I think, if we didn't have the internet (and I'm not BLAMING the internet, just my addiction to/reliance on it), then I think I could actually keep a written diary of some sort. That's the only way I'd have time. But then, I am typing this at nearly midnight just because, for the moment, NO MALES OF ANY AGE NEED ME RIGHT NOW. Unless Hunter wakes up. Or John realizes I'm not in bed and lumbers down the hall to make sure I'm not dead. Or the covers fall off of Jack. But not right now.

So. I am 29. John is 26. Jack is nearly 3. Hunter is nearly 5 months. We're all alive, well, and entirely too well-fed compared to the rest of the world. We are not even close to rich, yet our essential needs are met. We have family close by who invite us into their lives constantly and love our sons. We're so grateful. We have many friends, even though this thing called parenthood clog life enough that we don't get to see each other ever. We are on facebook enough that we could probably get a whole lot more done if we weren't. Feel updated yet?

Didn't think so.

How do I catch up from this gap? The delivery of Hunter and the four and half month since...I don't know if I can! Well, I will try, but not tonight. Instead, I'm going to jump right in to today, to NOW. Because if I spend ten posts updating you, I'll still have missed documenting what's going on NOW. And I have an incessant, nagging need to document the now because it is flying by at a speed incalculable by human means. Seriously.

Jack looks more and more like a boy every day...and now that I have Hunter I can barely believe that Jack was once at that stage. Now that I stare at Hunter for hours a day, Jack's baby pictures look funny to me--a baby I once knew, but is now morphed into a tall, slender blond-haired boy with stinky feet who refuses to be potty-trained and smells all of sweat and none of baby goodness anymore. He is not even technically 3 yet and has just graduated to 4T clothing. He wears size 10 shoes. He stands on a stepstool to brush his teeth right next to me. He can fetch "baby diapers" and "Jack diapers" for me. He says "thank you, mommy" and "awwwwwww I love you, mommy."

But he's not an angel. Right now he's in a weird phase where he will smack himself when disciplined. Makes for great scenes in public. And he sasses back, which I haven't found an effective discipline for. I get a lot of "You no touch-a me, mommy!" when I try to hold his hand or "You no say that!!! (dinosaur roar)" And he physically runs from me when he knows he's in trouble.

Jack can't look for a toy in a toybox. He empties the whole box and spreads the contents around the room first.
Music used to be "mitch" then turned into "muse-kit." :)
I have caught him several times laying on his stomach with his face in the dog's water bowl, lapping at it with his tongue. Ew. He will also try to sniff things by putting his face down on the floor next to the item, then picking it up with his teeth.
His fear of flies "bees!" seems to have subsided from the epic proportions we had grown accustomed to.
He willingly goes to bed after a bath, teeth-brushing and 2-3 stories. We turn the hall light on and he can quietly sit or lie in bed with the books he was read until he wants to go to sleep.
He is constantly following me around to see how he can help me. "I help you? Djyou need help?"
He LOVES Hunter with an amazing passion. His first thought when he gets up is to run into our room to see if the baby is awake. He will open our door and check to see if Hunter or I am moving. If so, he'll bound onto our bed asking, "Baby awake? I see a baby? I kiss a baby?" Now he's also useful when I can't get to Hunter right away and he can sort of be the court jester, distracting Hunter with his words and dancing and toys.
He has seemingly limitless patience with Hunter so far as long as he doesn't grab one of Jack's toys.

Hunter is just...well, fat. LOL He's well over 20 pounds and wearing 9-12 month clothing. His torso looks like one of those roasting chickens you buy. His legs look like turkey legs. (Shut UP, I'm not a cannibal. These are just good visual examples. Despite how he looks, we are not basting him with butter. I'm out of butter.)

He is definitely, BY FAR an easier baby than Jack was. This, I'm sure, is a combination of me not being a new mom and him just seriously being more laid-back. A couple days ago we were all going home in the van and Hunter had decided to cry from the AV Mall all the way home to Challenger and I. We just kept driving home, but John and I had to chuckle for a moment because when Jack had done that sort of thing years ago, we pulled over so I could nurse or change him. Now we're fairly convinced that a baby can survive a few moments of crying, so Hunter got to wail during our drive.

Hunter JUST started rolling over from back to tummy--yay!!! BUT we aren't yet at the stage where he can roll back, so all day now he is rolling onto his tummy, then becoming FURIOUS because he's done with being in that position, I flip him over and he immediately flips back and starts the process again. It drives me batty, but I'm so proud of him growing up.

Well, this is long enough. Let me wrap it up with my customary love notes:

Jack,
You are such a joy with your goofy grin and your imagination. Today I told you to eat your dinner and you told me you couldn't because you didn't feel good. I asked you what hurts (expecting you to tell me it was your tummy or throat or something). You told me it was your leg where you had a teeny tiny scratch but scabs currently freak you out a bit. That's why you couldn't eat your food. Over a scratch. I love your love for all things boy: trucks and trains, dinosaurs and dirt. I'm so proud of you. You make me feel "bree-full-o" everyday.
Love, Mama

Hunter,
You are such a chub of amazingness. I can't believe it's been nearly five months. Ridiculous. Of course, now you weigh enough to equal three of you at birth, which is shocking. It is so wonderful to again have a baby because it's a real confidence booster for someone to grin and coo and giggle and have a full-body glee spasm just because I walked into the room! (Daddy loves me and all, but after six years we're a little more comfortable with each other for that sort of behavior. Hee hee!) Having another baby makes going to the store a very tiring event, but I love taking you out because everyone who sees you just loves you! I'm so excited to watch you grow and for you to be a little playmate for Jack! I love you, "tiny" love. I'm all twitterpated over you.
Love, Mama

Jack at (nearly) 23 months

Dear Jack,

You are growing up so fast! I can't even believe how much you're learning, even when I do nothing more than let you play around the house and occasionally be brainwashed by cartoons. You are hard to mislead, that's for sure: if I try to hide something from you, you're sure to find it. You are a firm believer that my possessions should be carried with me at all times. If I leave my phone on the couch, you will bring it to me within seconds, saying, "Hold? Hold?" You'll also bring me both remotes and any glass of water I leave behind, even if only to get a snack or swap the laundry. You have learned to put all your shape puzzle pieces in the right places all by yourself, and I love to watch you concentrate on it and place the pieces so quickly. You will ask for food and then grab my hand, trying to pull me up off the couch. When that doesn't work, you'll try to push the laptop closed.

Yesterday I followed a pregnancy yoga video and you thought it was a great game. You would mimic my poses right under me, laughing and pressing your forhead into mine. For each standing pose, you would try to run between my legs, which did not work so well since you're taller than my legs are long, so I had to just forget the concept of balance. Not quite the peaceful experience I'd hoped for, but I should have known.

You absolutely and completely love me...you are a cuddlebug and must be touching me in some capacity in order to fall asleep. Your favorite way to fall alseep on me is to pull my shirt up and rest your head on my belly, which will be adorable when my stomach is the size of a hot air balloon.

Your hair is long, blonde, curly and wispy. You've only had one haircut and you're in dire need of another, but I love your curls so. After a bath, the back of your head is filled with a myriad of little ringlets and I fall in love with you all over again.

Jack, I love you! You make me so happy, keep me on my toes and teach me constantly about how to be a better mom. I'm sorry for the times I lose my temper or get frustrated with you. You don't really understand yet and I know that. I just want to be able to communicate fully with you, but I really am so grateful to cherish this time where your broken English is cute and permissible, your playtime is fully uninhibited and your smile lights up your face when you see me.

Words you often say: "Dee-doo" (thank you), "Mama!" (the exclamation point is very important here), "Mama-Da-ee" (your new name for Daddy...weird) or "Daa--ee" (Daddy), "huuuuuu-gny" (hungry), "nack" (snack), "wahn-wah" (sandwich), "nana" (banana), "nigh nigh" (night night--bedtime), "bat" (bath), "tee" (brush teeth), "nyo-ra-njjjje" (orange), "ki" (Caillou cartoon), "mnow" (milk), "crakrrr" (cracker), "tits" (cake...seriously), "shitties" (Goldfish crackers...supposed to be "fishies"), "beet-ah" (binky...pacifier), "tooooooo" (two...you have to have two crackers, two slices, two pieces), "may-oes" (tomatoes), "min-ya" (Mickey Mouse), "wah-saw" (raisins), "nuu-nuus" (noodles), "ow-sigh" (outside), "ing-sigh" (inside), "mooooo" (moon) and "watccccccchhhh" (wants to watch tv).

When you're angry, your first inclination is to throw something. This drives me absolutely nuts, because I don't know where you learned this from, but binkies, toys and food will sail across the room, accompanied by a growl of protest. I have not found an effective punishment for this yet.

You are impervious to spankings. You might cry, but it's more a cry of anger than anything else. More often than not you just grunt in my direction and do whatever it was one more time.

You love to eat cheese, bananas, cookies, graham crackers, Goldfish crackers, pb&j sandwiches, tomatoes and fruit popsicles. You will occasionally eat avacados, strawberries, oranges, apples, chicken, beans and tortillas. You love to drink any kind of juice (just like me) and milk. You also love soda and, in a brief but unfortunate not-taking-everything-with-us-when-we-leave-the-couch episode, beer.

You love to be chased, love to chase back, love to throw sand at poor Brownie (grrrr), love to play outside. You're inquisitive, hard-headed, extremely resilient and you open my eyes in a whole new way to the world around me.

I love you, I love you, I love you! You make my day complete, with your squishy face and your warm little hands. Even when Daddy and I are out on a "date," we think about you and talk about you constantly. Daddy loves you immesurably and he can't hide his excitement when he walks in the door and you run into his arms. You make us so proud and you're not even two yet!

I love you, little love, goober, punkin pie, monster mash. I love every minute of this journey, even if it whizzes by at such an incredible speed.

Love,
Mama!

"He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe..."

"...is as good as dead; his eyes are closed." ~Einstein

It's odd that a moment of self-realization starts with something that I say. Normally it comes from outside sources, but not this week.

A little history before The Moment: John and I are systematically going through all the old episodes of The Office now that we have Netflix and can watch movies instantly on his Xbox (it's salve on the wound, since we didn't sign up for cable when we moved). John asked if I minded him turning it on one evening and I was initially a little hesitant, Jack (and I) having watched way too much Kipper and Thomas the Engine that day as I did (not do) chores. He argued, "I like watching the old episodes with you. It reminds me of the good times." I found myself saying, "These ARE the good times" and we proceeded to watch a couple episodes.

That little statement has affected how I've looked at everything since then. I hear occasionally that I should savor/treasure the moment, since time flies by so quickly. And no one really knows that more than a parent, because the growth of a child fills you with grief over memories gone and joy over new milestones reached everyday.

So I've tried to treasure the hours I spend with John and Jack, but even more so after this revelation.
--Even though I have more credit card debt than I ever thought possible after years of responsible spending in high school and college turned to foolish decisions and periods of unemployment.
--Even though the house we live in isn't our own when we'd so desperately wanted to buy. (Tax credit--helllllooooooooo?)
--The bathrooms aren't clean.
--The guest bedroom is used for storage and doesn't contain a bed.
--I'm still paying off bills from my little skipped-heartbeat scare from April 2008 (thank you Blue Cross).
--John has only one pair of non-work pants.

EVEN though our lives aren't perfect, this time won't pass again. Jack will not be 21 months forever and teething his second set of molars. He will not always intermix English words with baby babble. He will not always call milk "mnou" and raisins "way-saw." We will not always be this young.

But these are the good times, believe it or not.

They never told me it would be like this...

Life, that is. I don't even know who "they" are (but "they" seem to have an opinion about everything, don't they?). I have these moments or trends of self-reaization. I can trip myself out thinking about how people have lived their lives and died and I never knew them--entire lives spent without my apparent influence--which definitely starts making me realize how small and insignificant I am. Maybe not to those around me, but in light of the billions of people on this earth. My God is an awesome God just to get everyone's names right. I can't even remember what I ate two days ago or what I wore. Probably the same jeans.

But two days ago I subbed at Lancaster High, my alma mater. I graduated TEN years ago! I remember high school, but it doesn't feel like ten years ago, and yet it does. Just ten years is a milestone. I could go to a reunion, if there was one. I wouldn't, but I could.

[As a side note, I find it funny that every time I mention my age or how long ago I did something, I always get casual comments from Older People who tell me things like "Wait until it's been 30!" or "If YOU'RE old, then I must be ancient!" or "You don't know what age is, child!" There is always someone older out there. But I can experience joy and sorrow and amazement at my own life and how quickly it's passing. It is OH-KAY for me to do this, despite that I am ONLY 28, which is not an "ONLY" to me but a "REALLY????"]

Anyway, so I graduated ten years ago. That year, all the seniors had the opportunity to decorate a brick that would be attached to a concrete wall to make a mural of sorts. So I see my brick there, with my maiden name and it takes me way back. To anatomy class, cross country, an exboyfriend that (thankfully) dumped me two weeks before I graduated. [Don't pity me: the NEXT DAY I was introduced to John] All these parts of my life that felt like the entire world then and now are just a fraction of a percent of my life experience now.

And now I'm married and "babied" and while I am so happy, it doesn't feel like I thought it would. Not bad. Just different. Like I thought I'd become an "adult"--whatever I thought that would be. I'd feel responsible and be busy and dress different and feel mature. ...... Well, I'm busy. And I HAVE responsibilities, but I don't necessaryily FEEL responsible. Most of the time I'm shirking on some duty or the other. And I definitely don't feel mature. John may jokingly (?) tell me I am a "mature lady" but that's not what I mean. So it's foreign to me that I am cycling through these major stages of life without dramatically changing as I'd hoped/feared/expected.

So I don't really change dramatically as I go through life then? Not really. It's kind of like a new haircut I guess. New look, but still the same. Just a couple wrinkles here. A rogue grey hair there. A little muscle tone loss residual from birthing a giant. That weird bulging vein thing on the back of my hands when I let my arms hang at my sides that I marveled at my mom for. Good ol' cellulite. I think that's why life feels so foreign sometimes. I am essentially the same inside and yet my circumstances & body are so different than ten years ago.

What is different about your life now that you never expected?