Counting Our Blessings

"The Eagle Has Landed."

"Our Long, National Nightmare is Over."

"ANDY GOT A JOB!!"

And it's good one!  Great company, great package, great opportunity, seven and a half miles from our house...basically...GREAT!

My cousin, who went through something similar, said she felt like God had picked them up by the scruff of their necks, and was shaking them saying "Learn. Learn."

Since November 30th, that image has played through my mind hundreds of times and I'll ask "What am I learning?".  The answer is plenty.

I learned that we have friends and family who have our backs. 

In particular, I think of Andy's best friend, John.  Like all adults with kids, and spouses, and jobs, and responsibilities, for years, Andy and John haven't seen each other as much as they'd like.  Starting Andy's last day of work, John has faithfully called several times a week, they text often, and have met almost every week since for lunch. 

Of Andy's cousin, Mike, who has put Andy in touch with people that Andy should network with, generally kept the lines of communication open, and always checked in to see what was up.  We spent New Years Eve at their place on the Cape.

Andy's oldest brother, Greg who lives several states away but simply acted as a sounding board when Andy needed another ear or another voice.

There were others, friends at school, our neighbors, Facebook friends that I haven't 'seen' in years, and of course, my Blog Buddies.  So many people in our corner, sending leads, lending support, saying prayers.  And meaning it.

I learned that there are plenty worse things than going into Year 8 in our Five Year House.  I hope I learned what's really important because right now, I feel blessed.

Thank you all so much.  I'm so happy to be able to share this news with you.

The June Cleaver Response

We've all been on the phone with someone and either you or they say "well, I'd better let you go now" when in reality, it's the person saying it who actually wants to get off the phone.  The little trigger in our heads that makes us say that is "The Politeness Filter".  Scientists have recently discovered a correlating filter that operates in the Mommy Brain.  For our purposes, we'll call it "The June Cleaver Response" or JCR.

Much in the same way the Politeness Filter helps us more easily move through society, the JCR helps us navigate the waters of parenthood in such a way that future therapy bills are kept to a minimum, also allowing us stay well below the radar of Child Protective Services.  Below are a few examples of the JCR in action:

Situation 1: Children milling around the room, underfoot, standing directly in front of exactly where you need to be.
Unfiltered Brain: Get the hell out of the kitchen!!
JCR: Why don't you guys play in the other room?

Situation 2: Child tattling on sibling.
Unfiltered Brain: I don't care!  Just make it stop!
JCR:  Why don't you guys try to work it out yourselves?

Situation 3: Child prattling on unceasingly until you want to stick needles in your eyes.
Unfiltered Brain: Shut up! Shut the f&#k up!!!
JCR:  Sweetie, why don't you rest your voice for a little while?
Note: In the car this translates as: Let's play "who can be quietest the longest?"!

Situation 4: Anything involving food
Unfiltered Brain: For the millionth time, stop eating like a cow!
JCR: Honey, remember to chew with your mouth closed.

Situation 5: Child up for the 3rd/8th/11th time after being put back to bed.
Unfiltered Brain: I don't care if you sleep or not.  Stay in that bed before I tie you to it!
JCR: Just lie in bed and think about all the fun things you'd like to do tomorrow...

Situations 6 through infinity: (fill in the blank)
Unfiltered Brain:  Are you insane? What were you thinking!?
JCR: Buddy, that wasn't a good choice.

Our research would be greatly enhanced by additional examples provided by the reader.


* Apparently the unfiltered brain is quite profane when left to its own devices.

** This post is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual persons, blogging or deceased is purely coincidental. 

This Day In History

1719 - Robinson Crusoe is published

1859 - Ground broken for Suez Canal

1945 - Allies and Russians link up, cutting Germany in two

1990 - Space Shuttle Discovery places Hubble Telescope in orbit

2005 - Gremlin Manic is born

Clear as day, I can see Daddy doing that rhythmic, baby bounce-and-walk, holding you close in the labor and delivery room, speaking softly to you.  That was the first moment I saw you. And I loved you, instantly.  Thanks to an emergency c-section and Dad needing to care for your big brother, you and I had more alone time those first few days than HRH and I did.  I sat on the narrow hospital bed with you on my lap and we checked each other out. 

Between visits from Gram and Nana, from aunties, uncles, and cousins, I played with your fingers and toes. I smiled at you and talked to you for hours on end. I noted the difference in your 6 pound 14 ounce frame to your preemie "big" brother's 5 pounds, 9 ounces. I became frustrated by your lack of nursing cooperation and I noticed how LOUDLY you did everything. From breathing, to snoring, to diapers, you made your presence known.  Daddy and I introduced you to your big brother and our family was complete.

Every night, for the past five years, we've said our God blesses.  Every night, we end our God blesses with "and God bless everyone else we love.  And I...love...you..."

Happy Birthday, my perfect, funny, smart, sensitive, clever, not-so-little Gremlin, I love you.  More every day.

Dear Craigslist:

For Sale: Brother-in-Law

1964 Heterosexual.
Never married. Low mileage. No baggage.
Original hair and teeth.
Handsome, smart, funny, athletic.
Owns own home and business.

Interests:
Sports,
Mooching meals,
Drinking beer,
Long walks on the beach
Name-calling
Introducing minors to scatological humor
Arriving 30 minutes prior to nephews' bedtime for
Wrestling Extravaganza!

Motivated seller.
All serious offers considered.
Pictures furnished upon request.


The fine print:
*BIL is being sold "as is" and all sales are final.
** Potential buyers must survive pass rigorous interrogation by mother, SILs, big sister.
*** Apply at your own risk.

Alcohol May Have Been A Factor

For the 13th year, Manic Mommy spent her Saturday wasting away again in Margaritaville. It's really more of a visual...

Arrival Time: Approximately 12:00 noon. Drinking commences immediately.

Please note Tiki Bar built by my brother, John.

John can down an entire 12 oz beer in 6 seconds.
My sister, Danni can count Mississippis like nobody's business.

I don't think anyone counted how long it took me to down a beer from a flamingo funnel.

Everywhere we go, people think my friend, Joe is Kevin Youkilis.

Hugging Joe
Cradling my margarita.

Did I mention the HAIL STORM??

Alcohol was clearly a factor.

Jimmy was in fine form.

Danni has her FINS UP.

As did the rest of the crowd.

Danni's new boy(toy) friend, who not only shares her birthday but also could not believe she was the mother of two teenagers.

Can not tell you what they are looking at.

Arrival in parking lot: 12:00 noon
Departure from parking lot: 1:00 am, the following day.

Conclusion: Manic Mommy and her peeps are VARSITY!

The Rhetorical Husband

1. Do we have milk?
(Hmm. If I had bought milk, where would I put it?)

2. Is this today's paper?
(Let's look at the top. Just below the words, The Boston Globe, what's right there?)

3. Do you know where I took off my watch?
(...?)

4. Do you want me to give Gremlin his bath?
(No! Please. Let me.)

5. Do you know if it's supposed to rain today?
(Well, my trick knee is throbbing...)

6. Do you know where the boys' shoes are?
(See #3)

7. Picks up phone and reads caller ID aloud: 866-222-1000?
(I'm gonna go with "telemarketer"...)

8. Should I have the boys wear their raincoats?
(Is it raining?)

9. Are you watching this?
(Uh-huh...)

10. Are you awake?


What questions do you answer (or ignore)?

I Don't Know Nothin' About Birthin' Babies

Ten years ago tonight, I was asleep at Andy's apartment when the phone rang. I was on stand-by to care for my older two nieces when my sister went into labor. It was time. Entering the house we find my sister, Danni, already dressed, getting her bag together, and carrying the cordless phone around but no husband.

Over a week ago, her OB/GYN had told her that she was definitely going to have this baby "any minute." And so, for over a week, Michael had been shadowing her, following her every move, solicitously asking if she was alright. In short, she was ready to kill him. So when a friend invited him to go see a band, Danni nearly threw him out the door. In a world before ubiquitous cell phones, Michael had his pager so if anything happened, he could fly right home.

Except for some reason Michael's pager had switched off vibrate. And he was at a bar. With loud music and his pager beeping away. So here is my very-much-in-labor sister breathing through contractions while my not-yet-fiance looked on in nervous horror, and I try to figure out what happens now. The phone rings and it's Michael. My sister, doubled over, grabs the foot board of her bed and shouts into the phone "WHERE ARE YOU?!" He's on his way but not soon enough. She says, "FORGET IT! CHRIS IS DRIVING ME! MEET US AT THE HOSPITAL!"

I grab Andy's keys, yell over my shoulder that he's watching the girls, and away we go in Andy's car. A dilapidated Jaguar with a few minor problems, like a gas leak and a few missing gears - Park being among them. By this point, Danni would be about ready to push if she were at the hospital. The hospital that I don't know how to get to. So she's giving me directions in between contractions and telling me she doesn't want to break her water in Andy's car.

At the hospital, I carefully place Andy's (brick) parking brake under the front tire and lead Danni into the ER. While, I was jumping out of my skin, a very nice, very elderly volunteer puts Danni into a wheelchair and ambles, strolls, walks...to...an...elevator. Only to immediately mentally dope slap herself and say "what am I doing? we're on the first floor already..."

Weeks later, we arrive at Labor and Delivery where the experts thankfully take over. In no time, they've got Danni changed and on the table. She turns to me and says "I don't want to be brave. I want drugs." Right! Drugs! Got it! I rush into the hallway and request drugs from a passing nurse. She comes in, takes one look at Danni and decrees that she will not have drugs, she will have a baby. NOW.

Her water breaks and my poor sister is left with childless me, whose only known means of comfort is "squeeze my hand if it hurts." Which she does. And it hurts.

And then, because God listens to the prayers of the truly panicked, my brother-in-law arrives, cape flying behind him. Instantly, Michael is on top of the situation, finding her focal point, telling her to push, shoveling ice chips into her mouth.

I opt to stay and witness the blessed event but about two or three good pushes into it, the room starts to blacken down to one little circle, I'm sweating, nauseous, and dizzy. Holy shit! I'm going to pass out! I lean over to my sister, who clearly has other things on her mind and whisper, "you're gonna love this one, Dan, but I've gotta go throw up" and exit, stage left.

And that is how I witnessed the birth of my niece, sitting in a hospital bathroom with my head between my knees.

Happy 10th Birthday, Victoria Christine. Auntie has loved you from the very beginning.

To-Worry List

Am I consistent enough?
Am I impatient?
Am I kind enough to myself?
Am I strict enough?
Am I taking myself too seriously?
Am I taking them too seriously?
Am I too hard on myself?
Am I too hard on them?
Am I too strict?
Are they developing friendships the way they should?
Are they happy?
Are they spoiled?
Are they too physical?
Did I read to HRH more than I read to Gremlin?
Do I change their sheets often enough?
Do I expect too little of them?
Do I expect too much from Andy?
Do I expect too much of them?
Do I expect too much of them?
Do I show enough patience?
Do I spend too much time on the computer?
Do I worry too much about how others perceive us?
Do I yell too much?
Do they eat enough vegetables?
Do they fight too much?
Do they have enough alone time with us?
Do they realize how much they are loved?
Do they spend enough time with Daddy?
Do they spend too much time on the computer/video game?
Do they watch too much TV?
Do we have enough rules?
Do we model behavior correctly?
Have I established clear behavioral guidelines?
He doesn't know all his letters, HRH did at this age.
How do I teach them empathy?
Is he too sensitive?
Should I force him to give up the pacifier?
Should I give them chores?
Should I give them vitamins?
Should we teach them more about religion?
What do I do when I reach the end of my rope?
What do their teachers think of me?
Why can't he play independently?
Why can't I admit I need help?
Why do I feel like I've failed if I get help?
Why do other moms seem to have it more together than me?
Why is this so hard?

Now what?

As We Conclude The Week of the Gremlin...

...I give you this:

Scene: Last Friday, headed down to Cape Cod for the day. The entire Manic family is in the truck. We've already played I-Spy, sung songs, found books, eaten snacks, and begged for naps to make the time pass more quickly. Appropos of nothing:

Gremlin: Aww Fuck it!

Daddy (sounding firm but casual so as not to encourage future recitations): Gremlin, that's not a word we use. It's a grown-up word and it's very fresh.

Gremlin: Okay, Daddy. I won't say Aww. Fuck it, anymore.

Excellent.

The Magic of Christmas

It starts off very subtly. A brief comment, "I think I heard bells" then back to the conversation. A little while later, "did you see something fly past the window?" then back to the conversation.

Finally, after dinner, someone near the fireplace exclaims, "I think I heard something land on the roof!" Adults look expectantly at one another, "do you think?" The children can sense the magic at hand. An aunt or uncle, mommy or daddy stoops in front of the fireplace and yells up the chimney, "Santa? Is that you?" And finally, from the chimney you hear "Ho Ho Ho!"

The boys and girls are gathered around the fireplace, some nervous, some wide-eyed, all excited. One by one, each child is introduced and gets his turn to tell Santa what he wants for Christmas. Sometimes, an older brother or sister is pressed into duty for an unwilling, younger sibling.

Finally, after everyone's had their turn, Santa climbs back into his sleigh and flies off into the night. But not before leaving gifts for these good little children. Each adult in the room takes hold of the nearest child and runs to the door and out into the cold. Staring into the sky in search of a miniature sleigh being pulled by eight tiny reindeer.

It's a tradition that's been going on in Andy's family for more than a generation. It's my family's tradition. Someday, I will watch my grandchildren crouch by the fireplace while magic happens.

What to Really Expect

For my friend, Jennifer, who is expecting her first child. These are the things that they can't tell you in books. I give you HRH's six-year check up.

The initial aspects of the physical are going pretty well; height - check, weight - check, eyes/ears/nose/mouth -check. The pediatrician has HRH stand up, touch his nose, touch his toes, pull down his pants - wha? What was that last thing?? HRH is awash in shyness and confusion while I'm doing the "Doctors, Mommy and Daddy" privacy song and dance.

Eventually, HRH mans up and pulls down his boxers. The doctor gets enough of a glance to note that everything is where it should be. Aaaand now it's time for three immunizations, a blood test and a urine test.

We got him on the first shot with the sneak attack. For the second and third, I'm half-lying across the exam table with his legs in a scissor hold between mine, while pinning his hands against my body, exposing one bicep as he screaches in my left ear.

Next, we're off to the lab for blood work. HRH is still hyperventilating when he realizes we're not headed to the car and starts running. I catch up, grab him, and drag him into the lab. More pinning, more screaming ensues but eventually 0.001 cc of blood is drawn from his index finger. The tech then hands me a sample cup. Like I could ever coerce him into peeing into it. I give her the 'you gotta be kidding me' look and she agrees that perhaps I can take it with us and get a sample later. Better plan.

By the time I'm carrying my 45 pound 'baby' out of the building, he is literally speaking in tongues. I don't know what he was saying but it was not English. The only thing to comfort and quiet him? A special occasion (Strawberries and Cream Frapuccino) drink from Starbucks. That's my boy.

Motherhood: A full-contact sport.

Piccup Andropov

"...what ever will you do with yourself once both boys are in school?"

7:00 - Wake up to 3 year old face 1/4 inch from face

7:30 - Dressing, breakfast, lunches

8:00 - Shower, dress, corral boys

8:30 - Leave for school

9:00 - Peel suddenly shy boy off self and leave for dentist

9:30 - Dentist

10:40 - Dry Cleaners

10:50 -Starbucks

11:00 - Stop and Shop

12:20 - Put away groceries

1:00 - Pick up RC

1:00 - Playground

2:15 - Post office, Library, Starbucks (yes, twice in one day)

3:00 - Pick up HRH

3:00 - 4:00 - Playground (yes, twice in one day)

4:05 - Stupidly come home for no apparent reason

4:20 - Leave to pick up niece at basketball

5:00 - Home. Blog. Wine.

5:15 - Make dinner

The Family that Prays Together...

Scene: Dinner at Manic Mommy's Mommy's house.

Gram: HRH, would you like to say grace before we eat?

HRH: Oh, Gram. I don't go to St. Somewhere's anymore. I don't have to do that.

Gram (sidelong glance at MM): ...

Um. Whoops?

What I Want For You

Dear Six Year Old Boy:

I want to gather up you everything you'll ever want and hand it to you on a silver plate. But because I love you, I won't.


I want you to be happy.

I want you to see the humor in people and events and yourself.

I want you to find pleasure in life's small moments. I want you to build sandcastles and create wonderful worlds and stories for them.

I want you to know that you are safe.

I want you to have adventures.

I want you to be carefree.

I want you to have the friendship and loyalty of your brother. No one will ever have your back in quite the same way he will.

I want you to make mistakes and I want you to learn from them.

I want you to be kind to yourself when you make those mistakes.

I want you to know what you want from your life and how to attain it.

I want you to have a back up plan.

I want you to find someone who will love you almost as much as I do. Someone who will laugh with you and at you. Someone who will hold your hand and be your partner and your friend.

I want you to remember not to take yourself too seriously.

I want you to remember where you come from and be proud of it.

I want you to be proud of yourself.

I want you to understand the importance of helping others.

I want you to love learning and continue the journey throughout your life.

I want you to know learning exists in places other than books and classrooms.

I want you to always, always know that we are your family and that we are here.

I want you to feel how very much you are loved by your mommy and daddy. No matter what.


Happy Birthday, my wonderful, special, brilliant, sensitive angel. Thank you for making me a mommy. I love you, up to the sky.

Always,

Mommy

Life - A Snapshot

Background:

HRH's class has been given a few disposable cameras and an assignment to take pictures of their house, neighborhood, favorite room, family, etc. HRH is the last in the class to take the camera home. There were about seven or eight pictures left.

Scene:

Manic Mommy stepping out of the shower, naked as the day she was born (clearly, you can already see where this is headed).

A knock on the door.

RC enters carrying disposable camera that is part of HRH's homework.

RC: I just want to take one picture.

MM (mirror strategically behind her, of course) simultaneously reaches for a towel and the camera. Screeches: NOOOOO!!! Don't take the picture!!

Options:

1. Run camera over with newly-repaired truck.

2. Develop all pictures to determine if nudie pic of naked mommy was, in fact taken. Also to be taken into consideration: person working the photo desk at Target.

3. Hand the camera back to kindergarten teacher and hope for the best.

Random Act of Kindness - A Mother's Pride

Just this year, the boys' school inaugurated new, extended hours corresponding with a normal, full kindergarten day. Not many kids beyond the kindergartners stay until the end of the day. RC gets out of school two hours earlier than HRH.

Today, we were returning to school just a few minutes into Barack Obama's first press conference and I may have dawdled for just a minute in the car. I entered the building as two or three other mommies and children were exiting. HRH was one of two remaining students.

As we, ourselves left the building, HRH stopped and asked me to wait, while turning and heading back into the building. Just inside the door waited the remaining child. HRH handed the boy a drawing he had made that day and said to the boy, 'I want you to have this because my mom is here and yours isn't here yet.' HRH returned to me and said that he gave the boy the drawing because he wanted to make him feel better.

I don't have to tell you how proud this makes me.

Happy Halloween

...and may the force be with you.

Do You Recognize This Face?

Dear Boys:

Do you know who this is?

It's Mommy. No, really. It is Mommy.

This weekend, while you were making gingerbread men and reading "Gingerbread Friends" with Gram, Daddy and I found our smiles.

We went to a special place in the sky called The Mount Washington Hotel. Just Mom and Dad. No, just Christine and Andy.

We didn't bring the 20-minute conference calls that morph into 2 1/2 hours, or the possibly-totaled Trailblazer, or even the kindergarten transition anxiety (Mommy's, not yours, HRH). We even left the wifi, the Vice Presidential debate, and the $700 billion bail out package at home. We knew it would all be here when we got home -- and it was.

Rather, we slept, and read, and ate, and drank, and talked, and lived.

Mom and Dad LOVE being your parents. There is nothing more important to us than doing that well. But we have been neglecting Andy and Christine lately. And it's shown. In the way we behave toward each other and the two of you. And certainly in the way we treat ourselves. This weekend, while we were here, we remembered to be kind to ourselves. And we remembered our smiles.

I hope we'll be seeing them a lot more.

DaVinci Has His Last Supper, I Have This

Nearly two years ago, we were hosting Christmas at our house. As we were piling the food onto the table and guests and family members settling themselves in, I opened a couple of bottles of wine and began pouring. As I did so, I called out "Who wants Merlot?".

From the living room, the 1 1/2 year old voice of RC answered enthusiastically "I do!".

It's gone on to become a standing family joke, with someone or other yelling out the question and the rest of us replying, Marco Polo-style.

Today, HRH brought this home from school:

DaVinci can have his Last Supper, I'm going to frame this work of art to be immortalized in our dining room.

Wordless Wednesday - Preschool Edition