I’m officially ready for winter. Both my kids have hats and mittens, and today, I finally put away all of Jessie’s summer stuff and put her winter stuff in her room. Because, really, what’s the liklihood that she’ll need that bikini in the next couple of months? I love switching around her clothes, I always find tons of stuff I forgot that she had. Jess isn’t much into clothes, she’s pretty content most days to wear whatever I pick out for her, and when she picks out her own clothes, she usually matches. Somewhat. Okay, not really, but I applaud the effort
That’s what my son said to me today. It was so cute, and such a random thing for him to say – his language skills are exploding all over the place, and he’s got a phenominal amount of information to get out. It’s like he’s been stocking up, and now that he has the words, I can’t shut him up :-). He’s started groaning in frustration when things disappoint him, he’s singing random snatches of songs and starting to count and recite the alphabet. He still believes that everything is blue (when asked what color something is, his inevitable answer is bwue) and won’t actually say the whole alphabet, but he’s getting there, he’s getting his numbers down, able to tell me if I have one or two of something in my hand. He’s so smart, really just brilliant. I know that every parent thinks that – but Marc’s IQ is technically in the genius range, and I’m fairly bright – but these kids just blow me away. The memory – the other day, he asked if Jessie was going to blow the shofar when we were at the synagogue, because in his little mind, that’s what she goes off to do when she’s at Hebrew School.
Weekend was fairly crappy. There were serious high points, on Saturday afternoon, all four girls were occupied happily in Jessie’s room with the door shut, and Sam and Marc were asleep. I had cleaned the whole house, made myself a cup of reheated coffee and settled onto the couch to read. It only lasted for a few minutes, but it was lovely. And most of Sunday was pretty good, but the morning was so unbelievably bad, that it colored the whole day.
Sometimes I just get overwhelmed. Too many kids, not enough help, constant cleaning and dishes and laundry and it all piles up and I just need to explode. A kick ass migraine did nothing to make the weekend any easier, but even without the mind blowing pain, I think it would have sucked. It’s a tiny little apartment, and it’s perfect, maybe a touch small, for Marc, me and the two kids. Adding any more (and we are never NOT adding more) and it’s just … utter chaos and it’s so difficult to handle it sometimes.
And the older she gets, the more I like her. She’s legitimately fun to hang around with. I know all the perils of thinking that you are your child’s friend. She needs a parent, not a buddy, etc… but she’s still just such an amazing person to be with. She’s funny and wise and I get such a charge out of spending time with her and learning about the person she’s becoming. Every day she grows up a little more, and I’m so enormously proud of the little girl she is, and the inklings I get of the type of woman she’ll become.
I spent yesterday in Salem. And I went with Becky, Aimee, Annie, Glennys, my mother and my daughter. And it was wonderful and fun but the best part of it, for me, was spending time with my mom and my little girl. I love my mother, and am so lucky to have her for a parent. I see so many people with such crappy relationships with their mothers, so many mothers who just hurt their kids, unintentionally and without thinking, and there’s still nobody who loves me like my mom loves me. And my little girl, I know she’s not perfect, there are days when I think if she whines one more time, I might just lose my mind, but she’s so exactly everything I ever wanted in a daughter, and so much more… I’m so enormously grateful and blessed to have those two in my life.
That’s what I’m dining on today. Even though I can make a list of all that I’ve accomplished today (folded two loads of laundry, changed two kids, washed two loads of dishes, fed three children, entertained my mother and Annie, put Sam down for a long nap, took a shower, cleaned off the dining room table, put away most of the laundry, listed out all of the parent volunteers for the fall festival), I still feel as though I’ve accomplished next to nothing.
Had a great weekend. I love my step daughters, and I love the family, the whole family, when we’ve got all four kids together and the chemistry that we all have… but there’s something magical about spending the weekend with my husband and the children that we have created together. We went to Boston on Saturday – and my favorite part was the lunch at Wendy’s. I know that sounds goofy, but meals together, just us, and no fighting is still so… magical. And we ate again Saturday night and last night, the four of us shared tacitos and it was so nice. We don’t fight, we don’t yell, there’s no sighing and moaning, it’s just the four of us and we’re happy.
It wasn’t like that when I was growing up. Meals were… busy, harried, and usually painfully uncomfortable with Paul, Scott and Mandi all brawling it out. Sometimes Eric would blow up… and there was always the weight of Mom’s expectations, she wanted so badly for us to have… what I have now with Marc and Jessica and Sam.
Anyway – eating the bread of idleness… still. I have dishes to finish, laundry to put away, a living room to vacuum, a dining room to vacuum, two kids to bathe, dinner to make, etc. And I’m wishing I could just read instead
This is what my two year old said to me this morning. At nine thirty. And I thought to myself, why not? So I popped in a frozen pizza to bake. I’m not a fanatic about what my kids eat. I don’t give them artificial sweeteners, and I don’t keep soda or ice cream in the house, rarely buy chips or junk, they never, never get dessert unless we’re at a holiday party at Marc’s family’s house. But other than that – I figure everything in moderation works. And if Sam wants a handful of chips for breakfast once in a while, so be it.
I wish he’d stop nursing – and honestly, if I can bribe him to get off of me with a piece of cold pizza, then absolutely – I’ll keep it in the house. It just works for him. I never anticipated I’d still be nursing a TWENTY SEVEN MONTH OLD but lo and behold, here we are… and I’m so incredibly ready for it to be done. I’m just not willing to make him cry and suffer without it.
Several times, since Sam was born, I’ve found myself thinking that I’m glad I was able to give Marc a son. Even though I know it makes no logical sense, it’s the sperm that determines the sex, and truly, Marc loves his girls as much as his boy. But there’s something magical about his relationship with Sam and the older Sam gets, the more and more I see it. Sam is just in love with his Daddy. He hero worships him, Marc has the tools, he’s big and tall and strong, he can kill bugs, fix stuff, wears cool clothes and goes pee in the potty. Sam loves nothing more than being told he’s like Daddy – he likes wearing button up shirts, just like Daddy, wants boots just like Daddy, and lately – loves nothing more than sitting on Daddy’s lap and watching violent cartoons about superheros. Last night, Marc told me that he felt like he’d finally found someone in his family who was his kindred spirit. Sam loves the kind of dare devil, be careful or you might kill yourself sort of activities that Marc likes, he just instinctively gravitates towards that sort of stuff. And as much as it confuses me, I have no desire to jump out of a plane or hurtle myself thru the air, and I really can’t stand cartoons – it gives me enormous pride and pleasure to see my two guys loving each other so much