Oh the memories...

Before I gave birth to my first child, I'd heard other mothers comment on how "you forget the pain" after you hold your baby for the first time.  And, possibly because I had the help of drugs, I did.  Thinking back, I remember the "labor" of the birthing process, but I don't really remember the "pain" of that labor.  I remember holding my new baby.  Seems that our brains are quite helpful in providing us with the warm fuzzy memories while filtering, if you will, the painful or unpleasant memories.

Last night, one of my sisters took my daughter for a sleepover with her daughter. Girl's night at her house.  My baby sister then left her two boys with me for the night and the day today.. her 1 1/2 and 3 1/2 year old boys.  And, suddenly, the memories my brain had "filtered" are flooding back.  I love my nephews and LOVE when they get to stay!  I am always surprised at the things I've so easily "forgotten" about little ones in the house...

• Parents (mommies anyway) of little ones really don't get a lot of sleep.
• Waking up in an unfamiliar house, in the wee hours of the morning, Without Your mommy can be quite scary, even if your aunt is there.  And, being woken up by your sad brother makes you even sadder.  And as for comfort... the Aunt doesn't always cut the mustard.  She's NOT Mommy.
• Finding dry clothes and changing bedding in the wee hours of the morning is quite challenging when you're only half awake.
• "No" doesn't really mean "No," it means try it again.. Okay, so I didn't really forget this one, it's just a different interpretation for a 1 1/2  or 3 1/2 year old.
• Little ones are quite exhausting for parents... Where DO they get their unending supply of energy?!

But, oh the memories ~ I love having a conversation with a 3 1/2 year old.  It can be so very enlightening.  Snuggling on the couch with a sleeping 1 1/2 year old is heartwarming.  The belly laughs you get out of little ones are the BEST sounds in the World!  Little ones have such an amazing way of looking at this big world we live in, everything is still new and exciting..

I love visits from my nephews.  I miss when my children were in the baby/toddler stages... but I am quite content with where we are now.

It's all in the Details

Today's entry comes courtesy of my darling daughter ~

I found a "report" my daughter wrote a couple weeks ago tucked among her school homework.  Her 4th grade class had been instructed to interview an "older person" and write about what they learned.  She came home with a page of questions and answers and had written a half-page report, but wouldn't let me read it then.. I should have insisted.  She'd basically written what she'd asked, omitting the answers.. She left out the details.  So, I explained that she needed to be as descriptive with her school reports as she is with all of the short stories she has written.  "Okay," she said with a sweet little hint of a smile.  Below is her latest short story... one that she quickly covered up when I peeked at what she was writing last night.

Parent's Are Our Teachers
Pay attention to them because they are always full of instructions.  so be ready to have chores in the afternoon and in the evening.  It's too bad when you don't listen, OOPS! Now you're grounded from electronics.  You tell them you were daydreaming, but they send you to your room.
You're very bored right now.
All the time you sit so bored.  You are almost ready to snooze.  Five minutes later you're catching zzzzz's.  Every minute in your room seems totally lame.
Okay, time to face the parents.  Confession time.
"Uhhhh, I'm sorry.  I wasn't listening."
"Are you ready to tell the truth?" they say.
They now know the truth.  You feel guilty.  Each step you take makes you weaker.  Also, you're pale and about to faint.  It's very cold in the attic, where you sleep, but there's a heater in the corner, a tiny one.  Every blow of hot air becomes thinner.  You start raking piles of leaves and dirt away from you.  Super cold, but still, you're finally warm and sleeping.

I guess she showed me who can use descriptive words..
And, no, she doesn't live in a leaf-filled, dirty, cold attic with only a tiny space heater for warmth.

Busily Blessed

I am Blessed.  I am Busy.
Three children, two jobs, school homework and projects, dance classes, housework, time for fun, the day-to-day of this life I live...  I am busily blessed.

I have life.  I have a home, the house has issues.. but I have a home for my family.  I am able to provide shelter, clothing and food for my children.  I have purpose.  I have love.

I have a husband that does more for me than he even knows.  He listens when I need to vent, and takes over with the kids when I need him to, and does so much around the house.  He keeps me grounded and keeps me flying high.  He makes me laugh when I want to cry.  He gives me space when I need it, but pushes when needed also.  He believes in me even when I'm doubting, especially when I'm doubting.
He loves me.

I have three healthy children that each bring a unique dynamic to my life.  Three children that I've been able to watch grow and learn and see the sparkle of joy/excitement/life in their eyes.  Three children I've been able to love.  Three children who love me.

My oldest challenges me to be a better me.. a calmer, more patient me.  He has a sensitive soul and a compassionate heart.  He can get so very angry, but can also be so very sweet and loving.  He is gaining independence and learning responsibility.  He's becoming a young man.  He's growing up.. and I'm not quite ready.
My middle keeps it real.  She tells it like it is.  She is a born leader, but has rare shy moments of insecurity.  She learns quickly and remembers nearly every bit of information she encounters.  She is gentle and loving and helpful.  She has always behaved older than her age.. and I'm not ready for her to grow up either.
My baby reminds me that life is for discovery and enjoyment.  He has a smile that crinkles his eyes and makes everyone around happy.  He moves at a slower pace, enjoying all of the little things that fill his world.  He is meticulous with details and proud of a job well done.  He has promised to always be my baby, even when he's a daddy.. and I hold on to that promise tighter than he could ever know.

I have a family, more than a hundred strong, that provides love and support and encouragement.  I could, given time, list each and every one.. and I feel good knowing that I do know them all.  My grandparents wanted us to know our family, and we do.  We are spread far and wide, but all are dear to my heart.  I couldn't ask for a better family to call my own.  Beyond my family, I have a network of friends that aren't family by blood, yet still there in all the ways my family is.  I would not be the person I am today without my family and friends.

I am blessed.