3 Years Gone By

I can hardly wrap my brain around what life might have been like if you weren't here:

 You have become the sweetest little girl:

 With just a hint of mischievousness:

 You are like a ballerina truck driver:

 Always hamming it up for the camera:

 And enjoying your just desserts:

 My littlest friend:

The one who made me a mama of 4.  4.  It's a beautiful number.  It made our family complete.  Completely insane, but complete.  Your birthday party is just days away and all you want?  Pink shoes and cake! 

Motivation

I recently joined a discussion about finding motivation to exercise/workout.  I have to say, this is something that has been a complete evolution for me. 

In my 20's (aka my single years), my motivation was wanting to look good.  Healthy?  Puh.  Who cares?  I'm 24!  I'm gonna live for-ev-ah!!  Occasionally there would be a special day (mostly one that required me squeezing into an unflattering bridesmaid's dress - I own approximately 371 of them) and I would step up my efforts.  I never, ever ran.  I walked a lot.  I learned to ski.  I went caveing - which was SO much fun and one of the things I miss and hope to some day introduce to my munchkins .I became a Kathy Smith aerobic video junkie.

Then I joined a gym.  I made half-hearted attempts at weight training but that was extremely intimidating.  Oh.my.word.  I would mostly use the stairmaster.  There was one extremely thin, young(er), beautiful woman who would get on next to me and go approximately 17 times faster.  I nicknamed her "Ginger Spice" (she had red hair and the Spice Girls were popular)(yes, I'm old). 

Then I met my husband.  He worked out a lot.  He decided one year to do the Body-for-Life program and told me, "There is NO WAY you could do this!"  Did I mention how much I HATE to be told that I "can't" do something?  Yeah.  I did the 12 week program.  Twice.  Never varied and followed it exactly.  That was, at the time, the best shape I had ever been in. 

Then we had kids and my motivation was "don't get fat".  It was a hard place to be because I knew we had every intention of having more babies after the first 3 so working my hiney off to get back to my pre-baby weight was, to me, a bit pointless.  But.  I did it.  Every time.  It was really difficult after the first baby (and 54 pounds of pregnancy weight) but each time it got easier (probably because I gained less with each baby).

Now, my motivation has a name.  Actually, it has 4 names - Oldest Boy, Youngest Boy, Baby Girl, and Little One.  I want my boys to know that women can be strong and still be pretty.  I want my girls to know that strong IS pretty.  They all think that moms run.  For fun.  For PR's.  For charity.  They run.  I can't wait until next year.  They (well, the boys at least) want to run a 5K with me!  Now if I could just convince Mr. MOTH that he should do it, too!!  Maybe I should just tell him he "can't"...

Mother's Day 2012

What a difference a year can make!  Again this year I ran the Race for the Cure downtown (dahntahn) but instead of being late and extremely nervous we were relatively on-time and I was pretty calm.  As the MC counted us down this year I turned to watch the runners sprinting down the hill and remembered how that was ME last year!  I improved my time by almost 2 minutes (For me, this was a true test of how my running is coming along.  I don't think it's accurate to compare race times from different courses.  That's the scientist in me - only change one variable at a time!) and came in 40th in my age group.  The only "eventful" thing that happened this year was some dude ran past me and ripped the earbuds out of my ears and yanked my head backwards.  THAT was fun...he sorta almost apologized before he left me in the dust cursing silently in my head and trying to make everything fit back the way it was supposed to!

I got a lot of loot:

 Store-bought cards from Mr. MOTH and the kids.  A home-made "MOM" cut-out card from Youngest Boy which came with the Rosary beads (one decade), a book mark and that envelope that says "I love you".  Another home-made "pop-up" card from Oldest Boy which came with the paper teacup - inside were coupons for a massage, breakfast in bed, and "your choice" and a teabag.  He also made me the bling pin at the top of the photo.  Baby Girl made me the card at the top with the big "40" in it (because I'm 40 now...).  She also gave me a delicious muffin along with a card that had the poem "If You Give a Mom a Muffin" by Beth Brubaker.

And Little One, well, she gave me the gift of getting better.  She may look like she went a few rounds with Mike Tyson (or she got a nose job) but she'll be just fine.  And today she turns 3.  My hardest-to-handle age.  I can't wait!

We also visited my mother-in-law.  She may not really know who we are or what's going on but she did point directly at her son (my husband) and say, "THAT one is trouble!!"  Amen!

Overall it was a nice day.  I got to spend the whole morning and early afternoon (while I wasn't on the race course) with my mom, my kids, and my love.  Awesome!

Mother of the Year

Sometimes, your day starts out on the very wrong foot - you yell, you fight, you are short with everyone, you burn your toast, you can't find your keys or your shoes or your hairbrush.  Then you get through breakfast and you think it might get a little better. 

You head out for a nice evening with family - your sister-in-law is having a cookout for her birthday - and things start to get touchy again.  They live on a corner lot and you have a 3-year-old who doesn't understand that a road can be dangerous.  You live on a cul-de-sac with one neighbor beyond you.  No traffic for 1/4 mile.  All of the other kids are running and she thinks she should be allowed to, too.  You thwart her every effort, use every distraction you can think of and finally give up.  You are just going to go home.

But the other kids are having fun, you haven't eaten yet, they haven't even cut the cake!  OK.  You'll stay a bit longer but not much.  You want to get home to talk to Daddy - who was out of town - before night-night.

You sit back down, hand Little One the iPod with her favorite games loaded up, and tuck in.  Not 30 seconds later you're sprinting down the sidewalk - your sister closing in from the other side - when it happens.  She stops short.  You don't.  You trip, landing with your full body weight on her head.  On cement.

In a panic, grandma want to call "911" but your brother's house is a mere 5 blocks from the local hospital!  You toss her in her car seat, tell the other kids to stay put (Youngest Boy is sobbing), and drive away with flashers blinking, running every stop sign and almost a red light. 

They take one look at the mess you are at the ER desk and put you right through.  A doctor sees Little One within 20 minutes and orders a CTscan.  You take this photo to send to your husband who is a thousand miles away and grandma puts a stop to it.  Would you want to see this?:

You wait for what seems like hours (because it nearly is) and finally they take the test (Little One heard she was having her photo taken and, swollen lip and all, gave a trembly smile).  They promise you results within an hour - hopefully less, they say.  After an hour passes you start to worry.  You have been working out a plan to get the bigger kids home (tomorrow is a school day) because it's getting late.  What if the test isn't OK?  You and your husband have already agreed that any treatment beyond a band-aid is being done at the Big City Children's hospital. 

And the results are in.  No fracture.  No swelling or bleeding in the brain.  She can go home.  Wake her up at least once over the course of the night.  Try not to cry yourself to sleep (You fail at this one).  You pick up the other kids, thankful to all be together and on your way home.  The patient talks non-stop on the 25 minute ride - commenting on the lightning strikes, grateful that her siblings are all around her, thank you for my new shirt (they let her wear the hospital gown home so as not to pull her t-shirt over her head) and, oh yeah, Mommy, please don't do that again. :(

It's after midnight before everyone is asleep.  You decide ahead of time tomorrow will be a tardy mark on their school records.  You don't care.  You survived.  She is going to be OK.  But you will both have the marks for a long time - some seen, some unseen.

Pajamas and Memories

When I originally planned this Pajama party to benefit the Pajama Program it was all about getting warm jammies for children who wouldn't otherwise have them.  I mean, I love my pj's!  It hurts my heart to think that while our biggest dilemma every night is whether it's "Warm enough for short sleeves, Mommy?" there are some kids who don't even know what pajamas are. 

Then I started thinking about how silly it would be to have everyone show up in their fuzzy slippers and bathrobes (PS I hate blogger's new set-up and I can't figure out what in the heck it does to my photos!):



Little One in her Ariel PJ's




The ladies




Mr. MOTH (who played along only because I made him)




My brother (who I love for being willing to play along)




Me and Little One (my tiara says "40" courtesy of Mar)




Violet - who needed no tiara to be the star

 Then a few days before party time, when I started to worry about whether or not there would be enough food (there was) and people would enjoy themselves (maybe they did), I realized that what was missing was the insanity that was the old-timers of my family.  They.would.have.LOVED.this.  My grams and Aunt Ruth and Aunt Ardy would have been planning how outrageous they could make their outfits from the moment they heard about it!  They were all about the silly and the fun!  My Aunt Ruth had many faults but she loved to be the center of attention, especially if it meant making folks laugh - and believe me, seeing her with curlers in her hair and her "night cap" on would have made us all laugh!  And, my God, how I missed them all last Saturday! 

They all had big hearts and would have been proud of the fact that, thanks to my family and friends, I collected 40 pairs of pajamas and 18 books!  WOOT!  Mr. MOTH dropped them off to our local chapter president this morning on his way in to work.  I can't wait to figure out how to help this organization again.  The kids' school has a pajama day every year during Catholic Schools Week - I'm going to try to convince the PTG to make it into a collection day for the Pajama Program.  It will be a lot of work but next year I'm only going to have Little One home with me all day.  Can you imagine the free time I'm going to have (yeah, right)?