(Wo-)Man's Best Friend

My Dearest Sir Slash,
Sweet canine friend, I will miss our walks through the neighborhood. Actually, I really miss them already. I miss the smell of your fur after you've had a bath and the way you would nuzzle me just like a cat. I miss you greeting me at my bed each morning when Daddy would come to wake me up and I miss you curling up behind my knees when I would give the children their morning cuddles on the couch. I even miss having to chase you each time someone let you out of the yard. But the memory I will cherish most of all is when you would lay your head on my tummy while I was pregnant and then look at me with bewilderment when that little someone kicked.
I hope, dear friend, that we will meet again and that you are enjoying running the meadows of heaven. Your passing took me by surprise as did my reaction. I didn't realize just how much you had touched my life in the short time you were mine. Even now, several weeks later, my eyes fill with tears and writing this is difficult. I have been meaning to get this out but I haven't because thinking about it hurts so much. But holding it in doesn't honor your loyalty or your life. I want to thank you for sharing your life with me and my family. You are truly one of the best of God's creatures and I will always love you and remember you fondly.
Eternally,
Your Human Mommy

Two Conflicting Bees

Okay, so I'm not talking about actual bees. My two conflicting B's are Breastfeeding and Blood-sugar. Specifically, low blood-sugar. When I am good, as in I have been eating regularly - not skipping meals, not overly stressed, not overly active, getting my normal 7 hours of sleep, my blood-sugar is pretty normal. When I "forget" I have to be conscience of my time/meals/etc, things can and have gotten pretty bad. Those who have had episodes of low blood-sugar can attest to the various situations they have found themselves in. My own have not been pretty. I can honestly say the worst was sitting outside the grocery store, crying my eyes out, waiting for my best friend to come and help me remember what it was that I needed to do there (cash my paycheck and buy milk, flour and bananas for a pancake breakfast I was hosting the next day). I remember feeling so stupid. Had I been paying attention, I would've remembered to eat my 4 o'clock snack and not skip it thinking I'd have time later. Lately, however, my mistake has been not compensating my body's needs with the fact that I have been feeding another human being. I am a full-time breastfeeding mama. I don't use formula if I can help it - my body is (so far) keeping up with this baby but I did have to supplement when B-Boy was a baby. Little Artie is still too young for cereal, so his nutritional needs are completed by me. And it has been a hard road with this blood sugar thing. I go to the child care center to feed Little Artie at lunch. If I forget to pack a lunch, I go feed him first and then try to make it somewhere to pick up something. But by the time I feed the baby and leave, I only have 15-20 minutes of my lunch hour left. And if my blood sugar is too low, I have a very difficult time trying to decide where to go or what to eat. And heaven forbid a repeat of two weeks ago. My hubby said he's bring me lunch, so I went to feed the baby. An hour and a half later, he came with my lunch. I'm proud of the fact that I didn't kill him. My office-mates are really glad he finally showed up because the delay in lunch had not made me a pleasant person to be around. Sort of how a hungry lion gets when you dangle a piece of meat in front of the cage and don't deliver. So now I'm starting to get really good about taking lunch with me. Then I eat the sandwich on the way to the center, feed the baby, and eat the fruit on the way back to the office. So far, as long as I keep my snacks at their regular time, this has been working. It's just so annoying having to relearn my body again.

Sparked - Simple Evening

Walking through the bookstore, heading towards the crowded checkout counter to purchase the ornithology book my thirteen year old needed, Sparks caught my eye. Nicholas Sparks. I've enjoyed a couple of his tear-inducing movies and a thought entered my mind that a book might be nice. It has been too long since I've gifted myself a tome of literature. Next to Sparks was Niffeneger. I have this book but lent it to a friend greatly in need of hope, romance, and the need to lose herself if only for a moment. I wonder if she's had the chance to read it. How long has it been? Dorian Gray. The name on the spine is familiar. I remember at one point in my life wishing for a son by that name, Dorian, because it sounds like a smoky grey song. To me, music is seen in colors and felt in fabrics. But I did not name my sons Dorian because there were stronger names meant for them. Family names. I pull the book from the shelf and notice the price is only $3.99. For an amount equal to twenty minutes of my time I could own a piece of great literature which would be a part of me for a lifetime. A few pennies more than the chai latte with soy I would purchase a few minutes later and I would have another book to pass to my brilliant children. Do I spoil them? Does giving them volumes beyond those perceived by others to be appropriate reading for their grade level make them more prone to teasing? I pray the benefits of accelerated reading outweigh the few years of torment they must endure when their peers realized that their intelligence is not an act. For now, thirteen must endure it because she reads at a college level while her "friends" are still struggling through eighth grade. In the back of my mind I know we are pinching pennies. Five children to feed, a new house which I only just paid the deposit on this morning. But $3.99 Dorian Gray is looking through me, touching the heart that loves the written word, tempting me with promises of words and phrases, quotes that I would finally understand, meanings that would enhance who it is that I really am. I hold the book, warm and smooth and precious. A few shelves over, a colorful cover catches my eye and I squat down to see what it is when I notice a small black and white cover in a pattern much like the feathers of an ostrich. It is a book of sudoku puzzles but in a wordless cover that is flocked in black. A pleasure for the senses - touch and sight. Again, $3.99. High above the shelves I notice a sign. I've discovered the bargain book wall - 75% off. My heart leaps with joy at this simple discovery. People my size rarely look up that high. It seems my world is always looking up and I enjoy my own time when I can look at my own level. So surely this is a discovery. I take a small step back from the books and I see just how vast this treasure trove really is. Authors I know, most I don't. All of them just waiting to be discovered. My new home has built in shelves. So many books could find a home there. I take my two treasures and the beautiful book of birds to the less crowded counter of the bookstore cafe. I learn that I can purchase the books and my tea there. I pay, I sit. I crack open Dorian Gray and learn the sad tale of his author. Will anyone ever read my story? I'd like to think it's a happy story. I always seems happy. One of thirteen's teachers says I should write a book on how to be happy. If she only knew the truth. She would cry. I am happy today because I don't believe in being sad. I've been there. God helped me find my way out. He gave me children to live for. He gave me supportive parents and set me still long enough to find the man who was meant for me. I am only great and happy because I've not got the right to be sad. I survived it. I will write it when I am ready, for now I will just live it. My tea arrives and I hold the warm cup, warm books (I did not want a bag) and head out into the cold. This is not weather we are used to in New Mexico - ice and snow. My car is warm. I drive past the house that will soon house my new treasures. I have plans for that house. It will be our home. It will hear our laughter, children playing, dancing in the kitchen, the new baby crying. Friends will come to eat and talk and play cards. We'll have epic Halloween parties. It looks beautiful in the snow. I pull into the driveway of the home I've shared with my family for three years. Six people, one bathroom. It's been fun and leaving is bittersweet. I love this house. I have promised to try to find a nice family for it. I almost wish we didn't have to leave but our girls are becoming teenagers and they need more privacy. New baby makes seven now with one bathroom and I'd really appreciate taking a shower without having to leave the door unlocked. I miss my privacy too. I hand the book of birds to thirteen. She takes it in her hands and presses her head to it. "Thank you mom." She notices I've got two other books and I can see her interest. It makes me proud. Then she says good night and kisses me on the check, still with her book in her hands. She tells me I smell like gingerbread.
And I smile.

My Sweet Little Gentleman

I have a sweet little gentleman and I'm not completely sure how that came about. He has begun to open my car door for me everywhere we go. He checks up on me every few minutes to make sure the baby and I are doing well. He's even gotten up in the middle of the night to check on me. He's only four years old! My little B-Boy has become a perfectly sweet little gentleman. I'm sure he's been watching his father, but I never expected him to take so much care of me. He'll even ask me if I need him to scratch my back and on more than one occasion, he's just come to me and started to brush my hair. I must be the luckiest mommy in the whole world.
My little gentleman will be five in just one more month. He is so excited to be getting a baby brother as an early birthday present. He surprises me with everything he is learning and with how dare-devilish he can be. And his understanding of the world around him? He pointed to a car last night that he really likes and said, "When I grow up and get a job, that's the car I'm going to buy." When I pulled over the car to see if our eldest wanted to try to pull into the driveway (she said no) he told her it wasn't that scary and she was old enough but "I have to wait until I'm older." No whining, no crying, no bartering about wanting to drive. He completely understands that there are just some things he has to wait for. He is learning patience. It's a big thing to learn for someone so little. He amazes me everyday!

On a scale of 1 to 10, YOU are an 11!

Eleven.
On a Friday eleven years ago, a beautiful angel came into my life and made me a mommy. It was such a wonderful occasion that they held a parade the morning after. Granted it was the Veteran's Day parade, but it was still a parade and it was just after my angel's birth. So beautiful, she smiled at me right away. The first to hold her, other than the doctor and nurses, was her grandmother. They have had a special bond ever since, it's beautiful to watch. Her other grandmother was waiting patiently and it was love at first sight. They, too, share a special bond.
My angel has been my life. Without her, I would not have left a difficult situation. She saved me and has helped me grow not just as a mom, but as a human being. Through her, I have learned patience. I have learned to let my creativity grow without being afraid of what other people think. I have learned to appreciate again with child-like wonder the song of a bird, color of a rainbow, and the warmth of the sunshine.
She is now officially taller than me! She is playing the violin and doing so well in school. I love when she comes home with some new piece of fact, "Mom, did you know...." Some things I do, some things I don't. She does take after me in many ways - still doesn't know how to ride a two wheel bike. I'm hoping to teacher her after the baby comes, she's less afraid now than before.
Eleven. Where did time go?

I want to cry, but I don't

I have a sort of clenching feeling in my chest and I feel like my eyeballs are about to burst. If I let myself, I will cry. Not tears of sadness or even of the tremendous joy I feel. Tears of utter frustrations and confusion of what I should do. I have a beautiful child, Josie. She can be the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world, especially when she wants something from you or if we are around people she likes (who usually have something she wants).

But when we are alone and I need her to be a big eight year old girl and clean her room, brush her hair, or any of the other things she is more than capable of doing, she becomes a nightmare. And I don't mean that she's kicking and screaming or throwing a tantrum. That would be easy, I've been through that with each of the other children. She becomes what I can only think of as passive-aggressive. Everything has to be repeated over and over. She is constantly distracted. She won't clean her room, she'll fall asleep under her bed. She will only brush her hair... to a point. Homework has to be carefully watched and checked because she won't do it. Timeouts, don't work. Physical discipline, doesn't work. Grounding her from playtime with friends, doesn't work because she doesn't have any friends. Taking away toys, books, outside time doesn't work because she doesn't care. Even the opposite, giving rewards for completing a task, doesn't work. And if I do get upset with her and send her to her room, I have a bloody mess to clean up because she will rub, scratch, pick her nose or any other place on her body till she bleeds; and she doesn't cry when she does it. I almost don't believe the child feels pain, just like she can't feel if the shower is too hot or cold.

The worst part is that I don't feel like anyone understands how difficult she can be. I believe that because she is such a sweet child around other adults, they just can't believe how difficult she can be. Even her pediatrician tried to blame our dry air and not putting Neosporin in her nose for the nosebleeds. It took me telling her three different times before she understood that the child gives herself the nosebleeds. We have a humidifier, we use Neosporin, but I cannot keep the child from making herself bleed the minute I turn my back. It should not be this hard to convince people. I should not be made to feel like I'm overexaggerating because she's a damn good little actress. I even have a hard time gettting my own husband to believe how difficult she can be. The only person who I know understands is my mom. My mom has seen this little girl in action when she doesn't think anyone is looking. And if looks could kill from this girl, I'd be dead ten times over. My mom doesn't fall for her "I don't understand" or "I need help doing this" bologna. And I just feel so frustrated that I'm ready to cry. I need help.

October, I love you!

I love October!

If October were a guy, it would be the perfect guy for me: not too hot, not too cold, smells good, has beautiful sounds and colors, awesome events like the Balloon Festival, State Fairs, Halloween, that added bit of expectation at the beginning of the holiday season, and mystery.

Today being the first of October, came with much good news and an extra dose of expectation. We are now one less obstacle away from relaxing about the finances. We also have our date for the arrival of our newest baby boy! December 7th! I'm so excited that I might just stay up tonight and bake the pumpkin pie I've been craving! I am so looking forward to meeting this little boy who's been growing, kicking, rolling and causing heartburn for the last seven months. As we have said this is our last pregnancy, I am enjoying every minute of it. We even (finally) gained some weight... 3 pounds. Hey, it's a start. I look huge, at least to myself. Other people have other opinions. Some say I'm huge and look like I'm gonna pop any minute and others are shocked by how small I am. I even had a lady yesterday who sees me about every two weeks who was surprised to find out I was really pregnant! I already love this little boy and his brother, B-boy, already loves him too. I've notice that if B-boy is sleeping in my bed, he and his little brother both wiggle and kick in their sleep if I'm rolled onto my left side. B-boy sleeps on the right. But if I roll right and they are next to each other, they both sleep peacefully. I think the little boy bond is already happening. I'm looking forward to the days when they'll be happily walking side by side together.
The weather has already turned into that lovely combination of cool mornings and tolerable afternoons followed by perfectly lovely evenings. I wish I could sleep outside. I've already begun driving with the air conditioner off and the windows down to enjoy the wind in my hair - which leads to very tangled hair as it is now down to my waist again. I'm trying very hard this pregnancy to avoid the temptation to chop it all off like I did with the last two. My hair grows best when pregnant and I'm not going to get this opportunity again.
It is the season of baking and get togethers, warm sweaters on cool evenings, spicy sweets and warm drinks. Thank you October, I love you!