New Blog

Since now my stories invariably entertwine both kids... I have a new blog that can be found at mariskaplavin.blogspot.com

I just posted my newest adventure there... so feel free to laugh at or along with me there.

Piece by piece... he's breaking me.

My son has a way of killing me, just killing me... in a good way. Piece by piece he's turning me into mommy mush. I think it's intentional folks. I think he somehow knows that if he starts now by the time he asks for the dirt bike, skateboard, car, ridiculously priced athletic shoes...I'll just give in. A co-worker of mine, when William was a very small baby called him "Stewie" (from The Family Guy), because he said William had a little man face that always looked like he knew WAY more than the rest of us and was plotting his world domination. I totally concur.

This past week has been particularly full of verbal gems from him that either crack me up, melt my heart, or make me wonder just what goes on in that over-sized noggin (90th percentile kids, 90TH!) of his. Here are my favorites:

Maple Syrup - so William now gets the concept of laundry. Don't get excited, he's not doing it (I WISH) but he knows that once his favorite clothes/items have been worn/dirtied, mommy must wash them before he can wear/use them again. This has resulted in my being asked, nearly daily, "mommy did you do laundry? is my (insert item here) clean?" I have told him, nearly daily, that mommy does NOT do his laundry every day and that he must wait. So he has this Pillow Pet (for those of you who do not know what this is, it means you are both blessed and not exposed to children's television) that he begged for FOREVER and now that he has it, it is a higly loved item. Well, it was time to wash said pet and after hearing me being badgered for 3 days, my poor husband took pity on us both and washed it. Now thanks to various skin conditions we have two different detergents, fabric softeners and dryer sheets and I have no idea what combo my hubby used, but apparently, it smells like maple syrup. How do I know? Here is my conversation with William the other night as I'm laying down with him to listen to my usual 3 lullabyes.
William - maple syrup
Me - what?
William - maple syrup, I smell maple syrup.
Me - William you always say that, not everything can smell like maple syrup.
William - well, something does.
Me - ooooookay.
William (now sniffing at everything around him) - it's my pillow pet!
Me - Dude, what?
William - I'm SERIOUS, mom, it's the pillow pet. Smell it.
Me - I'm not smelling the pillow.
William - MO-OOOOM!
Me - fine. let me smell it. (I smell it) William, it smells like clean laundry
William - well, can you fold it back into a ladybug, i can't sleep on that.
Me - Dude whatever, I'll fold it.
William - thanks mom, I can't have my head smelling like syrup!
Me - (totally cracking up now) why William, afraid I'll eat your head?
William - (now totally cracking up)...no! don't be silly mommy, you can't eat my head. now, good night. I love you.

Let's Try This Again - Now I am very detail oriented, but at the same time (it may seem like an odd combination) I have a HORRIBLE memory. I believe it comes from being in a constant rush in my head. I speak quickly, I skim when I read, I juggle way too much all at once (I'm a mom, go figure). Unfortunately for me, William remembers EVERYTHING and makes a point of telling me when I mess up. The other night, though, it was done in such a way that I found myself amused by how a 4-year-old's mind works. I had turned our entire upstairs playroom into a giant "tent city". I assembled two of their play tents and then using sheets, binder clips, doors and anything else I could think of, I connected them with the couch, train table, Elizabeth's doorway, you name it. Very little of that room was not converted into a tent. I LOVED it, it was a very magical, whimsical, comforting room. William loved it so much, he asked me if he could sleep there. So there we are, listening to his lullabyes when the verbal magic begins...
William - how are you mommy?
Me - I'm great William. How are you?
William - I'm great too. Thank you for building me this cool tent room. I could sleep here every night.
Me - I could too, it's magical here.
William - yeah, mommy. Wanna sleep up here tonight?
Me - I'd love it, although the floor is kinda hard for mommy.
William - oh I didn't mean in my tent mommy. You could come back up when you're done doing your "stuff" downstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed, that way I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (dying laughing)... ah, okay William. I understand my snoring is loud. So I can sleep in your room?
William - yeah! You can even sleep on my pillow pet. But first, when you say that it's your last song and that you're going to go downstairs, I'm going to ask you to get me more Marley books first, okay?
Me - okay. so after I go downstairs I'll come back up and sleep in your room with the door closed so that you won't hear my snoring.
William - no, no, no. Mom, let's try this again. Did you forget something? I think you did.
Me - (laughing now)... oh right, sorry the books
William - right. now let's try this again. You're going to go to my room, get me more Marley books, THEN you'll head downstairs, do your stuff, brush your teeth, comb your hair, whatever (he's saying this in that sighing yada-yada-yada tone) and THEN you'll come upstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed on my pillow pet so I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (laughing so hard I'm crying now)....yes, yes. okay.
William - say it mom!
Me - say what?
William - what I said, what you're going to do. I thought we were trying this again.
Oh my god... this kid is using my own technique on me! Who is this kid?

Stitches - So today I went on a playdate with a new playgroup, but we ended up staying only 20 minutes because William took such a bad spill that he split open the skin under his chin. I did my best to remain calm, keep my face neutral, and inform him that we would need to leave the playdate to see the doctor, but in my head I'm thinking "shit! He needs stitches and he's a TOTAL drama queen." I'm not a squeamish person AT ALL, but discovered that I am when it comes to my kids. I was having trouble keeping my stomach calm every time I check the bleeding. Blech! We head to the doctor and surprisingly William is a CHAMP! He tells the nurse they need to hurry because he wants to head back to the park. He's telling the nurse and doctor about his Oregon Ducks jersey and how is Oom (Uncle) Dane had his head sewed when he was 4. The only crying came during the stitches because they couldn't get the area numbed as much as they'd like, but with only 2 stitches needed, giving him a shot to numb him would hurt more than just getting it over with, so they stitch him up. He's done crying by the time they sit him up and not only picks a toy out of the the "prize box" for himself, but gets one for his sister (who cried the ENTIRE TIME) as well. This whole moment set up SO many memorable quotes for the day, here are just a few:
#1 - we leave the doc's office to see a fire truck and ambulance arrive and he says, "wow someone must be really hurt! I bet they'll have to do more than sew HIS chin."
#2 - when I tell him he was so brave he says, "but I cried mom, why was I brave?" I told him that getting through something scary makes you brave, crying or not. He says, "oh cool! So do I look tough now mommy?"
#3 - I took him for a "special treat" at Toys R Us for being so amazing during the whole thing and apparently, it was enough to drown out the bad because when his Oma (grandma) called him and said she heard he had a crazy day he replied, "yeah! I got a motorcycle AND a new bridge for my train!"
#4 - this one was the kicker. We're all sitting at dinner talking after my mom had called - talking about his bravery, the cool park, his playtime with Daddy outside and the new video game they were trying and all of a sudden, after some silence I hear a quiet "mommy?" "Yes?" I say. He says, "This was the best day." I'm kinda tearing up at this (feeling horribly guilty for not catching him on the slide) and say, "even with your chin?" He says, "yeah, mommy, it was great. and guess what else?" I ask, "what else?" And he says, "I love you."

Oh man, this kid has my number... and I'm so proud he's mine.

Moments...

So JUST as I was planning this blog of my own called "Moments", another blogger (and friend and better writer than I) posted one called "Those Moments" about the moments in the day that make motherhood. I laughed. This woman, whom I only know online (she is the wife of a high school classmate of mine) is truly somehow my other half, my long distance BFF and someone who truly understands where I come from. I couldn't believe we were blogging the same thing at about the same time. I nearly decided to just skip this blog, but instead I dedicate it to her. Erika... this one's for you! (check out her honest take on life & motherhood at http://storyofaho.blogspot.com/).

Erika wrote hers because she often has others asking (and finds herself asking well... herself) why she had 4 kids. I came up with mine as I realized that, while my blog is often humorous (or intended to be), it is also often about the negative. The struggles, the uh-oh, the vomiting, the potty training, etc. It might make one think I don't like this little adventure called Motherhood that I've embarked on.

On the contrary, kids, I actually do LOVE this little adventure. Do I find myself asking, "why the h@#! did I do this?" from time to time? Yes. Do I often wonder if I have the emotional, mental and physical wherewithall to handle this job? Of course. But there are those moments folks, those moments that make it all worth it. You know the ones... if you froze them they'd look like moments from those feel-good family movies that you watch and think, "RIIIIIIIIIGHT, parenthood is really like that". The boy and his dad at a baseball game, the family laughing together at breakfast not a single damn hair out of place and everyone ready for school, the beach trip in perfect late-afternoon sunshine, even the supposed "horrible" moments like the mom and dad shooting eachother knowing looks over a vomiting child. Those moments. They happen and I don't want to forget them, because they are beautiful and they make this whole trip worth it.

There were a couple moments just recently where I actually stopped and thought about it. Both happened just this weekend... one with each kid.

The first was Saturday morning. It was William's first Duck football game. I cried folks, I seriously did. It was such a sweet moment. William (who is now old enough to be disappointed not to join Daddy and Pop Pop at Ducks games) has been asking when he can go to one. So this past weekend my father-in-law decides to skip the game and despite non-stop rain and recovering from surgery, Mike decides to ask William if he'd like to go to a Duck game. The look of joy, amazement and disbelief on my son's face was one I'll never forget. He was SO anxious to go that he asked about every 1/2 hour if it was time to go yet. When they did finally get ready to leave he was perfect... going potty, putting on his socks and shoes and all politeness. Then seeing the two of them, all "Ducked" out (complete with hats & ponchos), William with his Duck Lips noisemaker around his neck, hand-in-hand, leaving the house together just reduced me to tears. I hear them walking to the car and William saying, "yeah Dad! We'll have a Dude's Day. Just you & me." It KILLED me. I wanted to freeze time right there, a boy and his dad holding hands. It was beautiful.

The second moment was Saturday night. It was when Elizabeth (one might think this was a negative, but it wasn't) started getting sick. Elizabeth is an EXCELLENT sleeper, has been since she was 3 months old. She goes to sleep and STAYS that way. But Saturday night, something happened. I think it was a combination of teething and starting to get sick, because she usually sleeps even when she's sick. But on Saturday night she woke up 5 TIMES. FIVE. I would have normally been exhausted and thus annoyed, but for some reason I found myself thankful for the time to comfort her instead. She's 18 months old now and growing out of that stage where she likes to be held for any length of time. And LONG before her brother did, she grew out of the need to hold onto/sleep on mom when she feels ill. So this night, each time she woke, I found her wanting to just be in my arms and I really didn't mind the lack of sleep. The first time she woke, I was so taken aback by her wanting to be held and rocked, that I found myself crying as I held and sang her back to sleep. It took me back to when she was a tiny baby. When I held her so much and how warm and sweet it was to fall asleep together, even if it was sitting up in a rocking chair. I found myself missing those moments and even crying at the joyful thought that my sister is going to do this sometime soon as she is due with her first in November. Elizabeth's soft snoring, her looking up at me while I sang and her eyes sloooowly drooping closed while her little hand gripped my arm was just too much. The fact that something so simple as holding and singing to her (with my crappy voice) is enough to make her feel better is amazing to me. It makes me love being a mom. It made me cry. Chalk it up to hormones, lack of sleep, whatever... I'll chalk it up to loving a moment alone with my daughter, late at night, sitting in a rocking chair, holding on to each other, just the two of us breathing together.

There have been other moments, ones I wish I'd recorded. The impromptu dinner at the little league field with William as we ate corn dogs and watched about 2 1/2 little league games while the sun set. Watching William settle into his spot at the playdough table at preschool, suddenly completely unaware of us watching him as he introduced himself to other kids. The first mommy & me swim class with Elizabeth when she laid back in the water and just let me float her in a circle. Running through the neighbor's sprinklers with my kids in the wagon on the way home from the park because they were shooting over the sidewalk and I knew it would make them both laugh. Hearing Elizabeth's first unprompted "wa oooh" (love you) from her crib as I left her room at night. The perfect afternoon at the park with my husband, sister and brother-in-law where William decided that standing on top of the hill, picking flowers and watching the little league kids play ball was way better than the slides. The impromptu rush into the waves with William in Santa Monica although we had no dry clothes to change in to and it was cold as the sun set. Elizabeth walking over to William's room, pounding on the door and shouting "BUBBA!" to wake up her brother because she wanted to play with him.

Those are the moments folks. The moments you remember when the s@#! hits the fan. When you're tired, when the kids are sick, when no one naps, when you wonder if you're doing an okay job, when you can't stand repeating directions for the 100th time, when the day is too full of time outs... those are the moments you have to remember. It will all go too fast. It will all fade away and change. But those moments will make it all worth it. Those moments are why we're here... or at least why I am. :)

I'll never...

When you're not a parent yet, you will find yourself beginning sentences this way. When you observe another parent in public, when you read a story about something happening to a kid, when your friends/relatives become parents before you, you will do it. Maybe you don't say it aloud... but I promise you, you say it in your head. I'll never spank my kids. I'll never have a screaming kid in a store. I'll never bribe my kids with food. I'll never count to 3. I'll never let them sleep with me. I'll never feed them junk. I'll never use the TV as a babysitter. I'll never let my child throw a tantrum in a public place. I'll never let my kids stay up late. I'll never lose sight of my kid in public. I'll never fall asleep while watching my kids. I'll never find myself unprepared. I'll never say that, do that, let my kid blah, blah, blah.

Folks, I have a very unkind piece of advice for you. Shut up. YOU DON'T KNOW. You don't. You THINK you do, you think you can imagine, you think you can prepare. You are the armchair quarterback with the advantage of replay. You are the backseat driver. You are the one I envision now when I read "judge not, lest ye be judged" in my Bible. You are, in the eyes of us parents, the blathering idiot who goes on and on like your least favorite judgemental radio or TV pundit. I don't mean this as an insult. I don't mean you are stupid. I just mean you are inexperienced. You are the equivalent of a civilian offering a soldier advice when you've never even served. You are the little kid telling their mommy and daddy what YOU will do when you are a mommy or daddy. Shut up. You are merely embarrassing yourself.

I laugh now at my former know-it-all self for even thinking the thoughts I thought and I blush at the moments I had the gall to say it out loud. I used to think that I knew just based on what my mom did with me, what I would do. I didn't. Each situation is different, society is different, each child is different. I was you once folks, so I don't mean to insult you when I say again... shut up. Try the exercise I try daily now if I find myself even THINKING about judging someone else (especially a parent, but really anyone)... I stop and I remind myself that I have not walked in their shoes. That I am seeing that person in one small moment of their life and have no idea of what their history is.

I once promised myself, "I will never drive a mom car." I was the person with the ridiculously tidy car that was always vacuumed, always spotless, always ready to receive an unexpected passenger. I never understood how people could have clothes, food, unidentified lying objects, etc. strewn about their car. Now, I know. Long overdue cleanings of my car during the past four years have been known to produce the following: petrified cheerios, a plastic toy utensil, a lego clone-trooper helmet, a pair of Spiderman sunglasses I told William we lost, 6 month old receipts, sand, mud, goldfish crackers, a piece of petrified mac & cheese (what? they've never eaten that in the car dammit!), clone trooper action figures, Starbucks cups and/or lids (never still attached to the other piece), juice-box straws, yogurt (eeeeewwww), hair ties, hair clips, stuffed toys, wiffle balls, shovels, blankets, pacifiers, baby bottle caps, teethers, rice (again, never actually eaten in the car!), molding milk in a bottle or sipper (blech!), a diaper (yes, used... don't judge), a baby monitor (what? how did that get there?), clothing the kids have grown out of, gift cards with money still on them (yay!), petrified pieces of playdough (huh?), dvd's/cd's (no, never in the jewel case), books, toy cars, baby dolls, my sunglasses, an important phone number that it would have been nice to find WEEKS ago, pieces of my hands-free headsets, fossilized donut, every super-hero toy known to man, that toy I told William was not to leave the house, etc.

How does that happen, you ask? Why don't you clean your car out when you get home and you're coming inside? HA HA HA! Let me tell you why, kids. Shit happens. You're exhausted, your kid super-pooped on the way home, the other one fell asleep during a freakin' 10 minute car ride, you had to make an unplanned stop for supplies, the doctor ran late, the baby-sitter got sick, you had to throw kids and toys and food and supplies into the car in a haphazard fashion to make it to a last-minute doctor appointment because someone is puking, your even-more-tired friend asked you to watch her kids and in sympathy and solidarity you agreed, you had to work late, you had to leave a public place early because your usually wonderful kid is having a meltdown, YOU puked, you didn't plan dinner and have to now pick up something last-minute, you realize you don't have any infant Tylenol in the house and your kid spiked a fever, your spouse is out of town, your f@#!ing smoke alarms are beeping and you don't have the batteries needed to replace the ones that just died, etc. Shit happens. It will happen to you. Don't judge, try not to laugh and don't bother trying to prepare ahead. This isn't a test you can study for. Your test will be different... no copying from the neighbor folks. God in his infinite wisdom will make sure each test is individual so that you can't develop an answer key. You can't break into the office and steal last-year's test. Shit happens.

So the next time you try to tell your friend that counting to 3 is ineffective, the next time you tsk tsk a parent letting their kid open a box of cookies in the store before checkout, the next time you shake your head at the parent with the screaming child lying on the floor in Target, throwing juice at the pancake house, skipping a nap or watching too much TV... quiet yourself. You don't know. You don't know what happened to them yesterday, this morning, 5 minutes ago, at the doctor's, at school, etc. You haven't walked in their shoes. So quiet yourself and concentrate on walking in your own shoes.

So many things can affect your parenting decision... your marriage, your job, your economic situation, your support system, the past 24 hours of your life, whatever. So the next time you want to dish out some advice to your friends, family, neighbors, strangers and you are not a parent remember (these are taken from my own life and the lives of my parent friends) you don't know if:
The kid just had vaccinations and is reacting poorly, the a-hole working the list at the pancake house forgot you and you ate an hour later than scheduled, the kid is teething and not sleeping, the parent is working on a new skill or lesson with that child, the doctor ran an hour behind and right into nap/eating time, the kid suddenly had an onset of "poopiness" and managed to eat through the entire stash of diapers in your diaper bag, a power outtage means the alarm didn't go off and now the whole day is shot to hell, the kid got bullied at school and does not yet have the maturity to express it well, the parents are in the middle of a divorce and the kids are suffering, the parents SHOULD be getting a divorce and the kids are suffering, the parent is on 2 hours of sleep because kids are puking, teething, having night terrors, spiking ridiculously high fevers, transitioning from a crib, etc., the kid and parent are going through hell at an allergist because they're freakin' allergic to everything and you're running out of things to feed them, the kid heard something in a story that freaked them out, the parent just lost their own parent and thus the kid lost their grandparent and everyone is an emotional wreck, the parent just heard bad news at work or got laid off, the parent is driving a rental car because they just got into a horrific accident, the 2nd child is SO different from the first that the parents are trying every new trick in the book and seeking the help of other parents for new ideas, the weather took an unpredicted turn, you left the house in a hurry because you're a new parent short on sleep and forgot to pack an extra outfit for the baby who is then sure to either spit-up or crap out of their diaper, you just spent the entire night in the emergency room, an appliance broke, a freakin' loud jet flew overhead and woke the baby, the dog just ran away and you spent 2 hours hunting it down, you have to buy a gift for someone and are doing it at the last minute with kids in tow because every other catastrophe has also happened this week, your sitter called in sick, the parent is sick for a week and now the house is a mess and there are no groceries, EVERYONE in the house is sick for a week (which turns into 3 because of the incubation period) and the house is REALLY a mess and they've all been living on Pedialyte & Gatorade, a parent is recovering from a c-section, gall-bladder or some other surgery, out-of-town visitors came back-to-back and kids are thrown off very easily by disruption in daily routine, the daily routine is changing due to lessons/school/work changes, the kid is giving up their morning nap, the kid is dropping nap time entirely, the mom is going through some hormonal crap in an effort to get pregnant again, to avoid getting pregnant again or just age, an accident/last-minute issue means no one has eaten in a few hours and you HAVE to stop somewhere to eat because you're not going to make it home, the coffee machine broke, the parent's cell phone just broke or ran out of juice precisely when they needed to make an emergency call to home/sitter/job/school, a relative "passing through town" stayed way longer than expected...etc. In other words, shit happened.

As for fellow parents (and I need to remind myself of this!!!)... remember my favorite phrase from the Bible "How can you say to your brother 'let me take the speck out of your eye' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye. You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." Even if you don't believe in God, that phrase works. Basically folks, until you're perfect keep your trap shut and work on yourself before you judge others.

And remember... God, fate, the universe, Karma, whatever just LOVES to put you in a situation that you've seen someone else in and said, "Well I'LL NEVER..." Famous last words, folks, famous last words.

The BIG and the little things

Parenting is a roller coaster ride folks, or at least, it has been for me as of late. In the past few weeks I've struggled with my own depression, exhaustion, both kids being sick and our dog having a cancerous tumor removed (the cost of which eliminated my plans for visiting family in Southern California in August). I'm in therapy to handle all that I'm dealing with right now and, since today has been one of the calmest in a long time, I found myself reading past blogs and watching William and reading the posts/writings of other parents/friends I know. In doing all this I realized just how BIG the little things can be to a kid. I thought about how I really I have to remember to stop, think, observe and enjoy William and his growth and choose my lessons, my discipline and my words carefully because I am his example and his guide.

My biggest thing is that I'm trying to remind myself to be a calmer parent, to remember how hard it is to be 4 years old, how huge just one harsh word or look from a mother can be, how discouraging a bad mood on a mom can be, how awesome one butterfly can be, how amazing a new friend is, and how long just 5 minutes can be to a 4 year old boy and how what is logical to an adult just doesn't occur to a young mind.

Did you ever read the Ramona Quimby books by Beverly Cleary or Judy Blume's books like Superfudge or Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing? The magic of those books were how well the authors captured what the world looks like TO A YOUNG CHILD, not to an adult observing a young child. I wonder if those women were parents because when I watch William, my own thinking as a child comes back to me so clearly and it makes me smile at how HUGE the world is to a small child.

I forget how William's blow-up pool (which looks small to me) can become a shark-filled ocean, a large boat, a huge water park, his swimming class, a space ship and a fishing lake just with the power of imagination. I'm swept back to summers with my twin sister, crawling around in our much smaller kiddie pool and how we were mermaids and sea captains and passengers on a sinking ship. On the oh-my-god-I've-got-to-breathe-and-become-a-better-parent side... I also forget how my snapping in my exhaustion at William for forgetting to look for his sister before going down the slide or telling him that I just don't want to go in the pool right now can crush him instantly. I've got to slow down and play with him and I'M the one who needs to watch his sister so that he can just be an excited little boy.

I forget how real the characters in a story can become when you have a vivid imagination (which I always did as a child). After reading William a bit of one of his books today, I was charmed on the way to the park how an "imaginary" Jack, Katie and Cyclops (all from the book) were accompanying us. William made a point of opening the door for them when we walked downstairs to get his dad and made a point of telling his Daddy they were "walking right behind us" as we walked to the park.

I forget how much a child can look forward to something and how awed they are to be special in someone's eyes. My sister has 3 work friends Katie, Reed and Bekah who apparently love to play with William because he is one FUNNY little man. Katie and Reed (a couple) are moving away and wanted to hang and play baseball with him one last time before they left, but the day we were to join them all for brunch and some park time, William spiked a huge fever. It KILLED me to watch this kid who was red, roasting, listless with glazed eyes (103.5 fever) try to pretend to feel better JUST so he could go to the brunch he had been looking forward to all week. It took me back to being a kid when I was supposed to go fishing with my folks in the Sierras and I tried the "mind over matter" method to feeling better because I didn't want to spoil the trip. As a kid, the disappointment is monumental and cannot be made up. And then after he began to whine about my cancelling the outing right when Elizabeth was doing her "mommy, mommy, mommy" I snapped at him. Watching his little face fall was a slap in my own face. I apologized as I realized that I have the power to just crush his little spirit when I forget how hard it is to be strong and handle disappointment when you're 4. And tonight, as we did a make-up dinner and baseball at my sister's house, I lost it a couple times when William forgot his manners or got too loud in his excitement and spoke so harshly to him that I was immediately shamed when I saw his face. 4 year olds don't have the mental capacity or self control to contain their excitement and instead of pulling him aside and quietly reminding him (as I will have to do often as children that young cannot be expected to remember these lessons immediately), I embarrassed him in front of his "buddies". Way to go mom. Not sitting properly in a dinner chair when you're 4 and excited is a little thing... and yet I made it huge when it was an opportunity to show him how to live and just let go sometimes. Ugh.

Finally, I want to remember the more beautiful moments in seeing how big the little things are. In the past few weeks I've taken the kids with me on more errands and let William do more with me at home as I've realized that sometimes I can't get everything done on the weekend or when they're napping. I also realized in bringing them with me or involving William, that we've missed out in the past and I need to do it more often. For while running my errands I've seen how William's afternoon was made just by us taking a few moments to watch the jackhammer, dump truck and excavator working outside my optometrist's office. I realized how important he felt when he got to pick out tomatoes, put vegetables in the baggies and put groceries on the belt at check-out at the store. I saw him beam when he got to hold Sasha's leash at the Vet and make Elizabeth laugh during a doctor's appointment. I saw him puff up with pride when he remembered all the odds and ends on my shopping list at Target and then carried the bag filled with "his stuff" all by himself. I saw him build his confidence just by flipping his own pancakes, scrambling an egg, cutting his own food with a knife and putting his own dishes in the sink or water bottle back in the fridge all by himself. I saw him go from writing barely legible A's to very well drawn capital A's as I let him "make a grocery list" while I cleaned up the kitchen the other day.

It took me back in such a good way. I remember my Opa "letting" me wash dishes with him all by myself and feeling like such a big girl. I remember writing my name with my Opa and feeling like I'd conquered the world. I remember stirring cake batter with my mom or grandmother in the kitchen and how that could be better than any toy, TV show or promise... just to have that time with them and to do something that felt so BIG, so important. I remember feeling like I was glowing from within when my step-dad took the time to just sit with me and teach me to play piano. I remember the wonderful freedom and silly rebellion I felt when my mom whisked us away mid-school day once so that we could go up to the Sierras for some fishing. And I remember being so in to a story that I felt like the characters were all sitting right there with me.

I think I just need to wallpaper my house in sticky-notes so that I can remind myself over and over to be patient, to take a moment when I'm exhuasted so that I don't make William suffer for my own issues, to sometimes forget floor cleaning and play with my kiddos instead and to remember that I WILL have to repeat my instructions, lessons and words over and over and that that is OKAY, because William is 4. He won't think about how running too fast around the kitchen island is just a recipe for knocking over his sister. He won't look to make sure he's eating over his plate because he's just too busy EATING. He's too excited to be using a big-boy toothbrush to remember to keep his head over the sink when he spits. He doesn't realize just how LOUD his voice is when he is excited. When he successfully makes another kid or even better an adult laugh, he WILL get over-excited and be nutty because it feels wonderful to be noticed. To him, waiting a "couple minutes" so I can dry dishes can be an eternity. To him, getting to measure the flour or stir in the milk to help make the pancakes is WAY more important than having the pancakes on the table in time. I need those sticky notes to remind me that it's my job to make sure we have enough time to get places, that I need to make sure that my phone calls and emails and work and errands are done and not a reason for William to stress out, that if I keep him up late or let him get up late or wake him mid nap it is ridiculous to expect him to behave like anything other than an over-tired 4 year old, that it's MY JOB to make sure he goes potty before buckling himself in the car because 4 year olds don't plan ahead and that it's MY JOB to balance his and Elizabeth's varying needs due to their age-span because until he's older HE is the center of his world. And most of all I have to realize how lucky I am. He is alive, healthy, smart and funny. I get to stay at home with my children. I have a happy marriage. I have a great support system of family and friends, even if some of them aren't physically close. I need to view the world through his eyes when I'm about to lose patience, yell, punish, correct, command or teach... because I have to remember just how BIG all the little things can be.