Melissa Anne Cohen

My not even two year old WALKED all the way to Elm Park. Which is a ridiculously long walk for such a little boy – and he was so happy. Wearing a little blue one piece outfit, with his sister’s sun hat perched on his little head. He’s so big!

I got up this morning and staggered into the kitchen to make the coffee. Once I pressed the little button, I then crawled into the living room to wait for the cable guy to come and fix my cable. That’s when I heard the little voice in Jessie’s bedroom. She had apparently gotten up earlier and started playing. She was in there, singing her little heart out, and I thought to myself that she’s a really happy little kid. Her life is pretty good, and she likes herself. I’m very proud of that…

No extra kids today – YAY. I’m taking Sam out for a morning at the park and then we’re coming home for blissful naps and cleaning.

And all is well in my world. Kids are all happy – Jessie is doing REALLY well with all this activity. For the next two weeks, she’ll be at camp or preschool every single weekday. This is unprecidented in her little life, even when I was working, I still had one day off mid-week. But so far, she’s thriving, gets up bright and early and heads off to school with no problems. I’m hoping that it’s preview of kindergarten 🙂

Sammy is all battered and bruised. We’ve been outside a lot lately, the weather has been great and his little legs are skinned and bruised all over the place. He likes to run and jump and inevitably falls over while he’s doing it. He’s talking more and more, coming out with sentences and new words all the time. For all I was so worried about his verbal skills, the pediatrician was right, by the time he’s two, he’ll be a conversational wizard.

Jess went off to summer camp this morning. I was really happy to send her off, for a bunch of different reasons. One, I think that the summer will be better if she’s got a bit of structure to it, it’s only two mornings a week, but I think she’ll have fun and still be able to have the freedom of just hanging out time as well. Two, I liked the thought of it being a new environment for her, with new teachers and new kids. It’ll expand her world a little bit. Three – she gets swimming lessons, gymnastics and an arts/crafts thing. She cried when Marc dropped her off, though. I know that she’s an easy crier, and she’s always a little thrown off in new situations, but I’m hopeful that she’ll thrive in the environment.

Sam is already asleep, we went to the park this morning and he fell asleep about a half hour ago. He’s such a sweetie, and so mad that Jessie leaves him each morning. This morning, he refused to give Marc a kiss goodbye, I think, just because he was so angry that Marc hasn’t been around and that when he leaves, he takes Sammy’s favorite girl with him.

I know it’s corny. I know that on some level, it is, as my husband keeps insisting, completely meaningless and part of what’s contributing to the downfall of Western Society (i.e. the celebration and reward of mediocraty) – but dammit, it was so wonderful. My beautiful girl, standing up there in her little pink “graduation hat”, with her shy little smile and sweet dimple winking out at me… I started crying once all the kids assembed and started singing, cried right all the way thru the five songs (including one about how ready they are for kindergarten), thru the diplomas (when she was elected Most Confident), and then the slide show. I kept picturing her when she was born, and then all that led up to her at this point, about to embark on her academic career, and fast forwarding thru until her high school graduation. She was so wanted, so loved, and she’s so exactly what I always wanted in a daughter. I wish all the time I could have sent a snapshot of her to myself in my twenties, when all I wanted was a baby girl of my very own, when I thought that I’d forever be the aunt, but not the Mommy. She’s so perfect, in all of her imperfect glory – the drama, the temper tantrums, , the singing, the dancing, the cuddles and helpful girl that she’s becoming, the tiny girl who snuggled into my arms from the moment she was born. It’s amazing to me how much we’ve been thru together, how much we have yet to experience. She’s my angel girl, and I’m so incredibly proud of her. And I’m crying all over again….

Last night, Sam and I learned valuable lessons. I learned that when he’s quiet and playing, that’s when I have to double check him. And he learned that eating Mommy’s coconut shampoo is not a good idea.

He got the bottle opened, squirted it into a couple of barbie cars, filled the sink in the play kitchen, spread a bunch on the floor and coated his fingers. It was only when he put his hands in his mouth that he started to cry and then I saw it. I call him my coconut baby, he smells delightful 🙂

I sometimes wonder if I’m tempting fate… like everything is so peaceful and relaxed, I must be gearing up for some horrible tragedy. Or maybe it’s just that my earlier years were so tumultuous, between the divorce and all the unpleasant aftermath, then Scott and the drama and crisises that seemed to accompany his life, maybe on some universal scale, I’ve earned the calm satisfaction of my life now.

I really value my life – the calmness, the peace. The utter contentment. Sam’s asleep on my bed, with the air conditioners humming along nicely. Marc and Jessica are out grocery shopping for the week, and I’m puttering in Jessie’s room, restoring it to cleanliness after the girls rearranged everything yesterday (why, why do they do that??). Beck’s coming out to watch the cherubs while Marc and I go to the dance recital this afternoon, then we’re having pizza for dinner. It’s just so…. peaceful.

I have no real problems. Not enough money, of course, but even that’s getting easier, we struggle now with paying for non-essentials – we can afford a roof over our heads, food for the table. There was a time, in the not so distant past, when that was really a struggle. My marriage is, as it’s always been, incredibly good. I love Marc, he’s my best friend, and I know that he loves and trusts me above all else. My kids are wonderful, healthy, smart, happy. I have a life that I love, where I feel satisfied and useful and happy. Sure, there are little dramas all the time, Jessie’s temper tantrums, Sam’s incessant nursing (will it ever end??), Marc dancing off to the gym or to play with the guys, the car needs work and we can’t afford to get it done, etc. But overall, things are great now. Really, really great.

I’m having a wonderful weekend.

I let my son play with twenty thousand squares of toilet paper this morning. I just started a new book and really wanted to read, and it made him so happy. He pried all twenty individually wrapped rolls out of the package and systematically stacked them into a circle around him. Then he began to build. And unwrap them. It kept him enthralled for at least a half hour, and when you’re a stay at home mom, a half hour of peace is worth more than almost anything else.

Lousy day today – it’s cloudy and chilly and I’m trapped inside with three children. Nothing really planned for the day – possibly I’ll make brownies later. Lilli has a school play tonight, so I’ll drag the kids to that. As much as I love Lilli, the thought of watching a play entirely in Hebrew is not exciting to me, so I’m wishing that I could get out of it. But I can’t. I know that…

Went to Jessie’s kindergarten open house yesterday, and loved it. After all the stress and trauma associated with the NJA closing and scrambling to find a school for her – I really think we hit the jackpot with the May Street School. It’s a small school, great teachers, pretty playground – I’m very happy about it.

We went to the Relay for Life on Friday night. And it was one of those nights when I felt as though I was doing it right, the whole parenting thing. You know, most of the time, I’m not sure how it’s turning out. I do my best, try to be consistent and fair and loving and give them a sense of wonder and joy and delight, but also a sense of discipline and self control. Friday night, my girl was an angel, well behaved, funny, sweet – just a joy to be around. She dressed up in ballerina costumes all night and bounced all over the place, thrilled to betsy to be there. It was a proud night, as a mom. Saturday was very quiet, Josh and Janet came over with their three boys – Baby Michael is such a little love – so peaceful and quiet. It makes me crave another baby – but I’m working hard on convincing myself to take the time and just enjoy Sam’s toddlerhood first. There’s time for another baby, right? Then I start to overthink it and quickly decide that you never know, maybe I should rush into it, rip out the IUD and start trying for number 3. I just read a scary book about a woman who just got thru breast cancer and can’t have any more, she always wanted four kids. Now she’s got two, and even though she’s so grateful to have beaten cancer, it’s going to bug her for the rest of her life that she hadn’t had those other two children… made me think a little more….

When I had my daughter, she was just so easy to understand. We’re very similiar, I get her moods, her dramatic tendencies, I understand the way her mind works. I like baby dolls and figurines, frilly dresses and making up stories. We both lie thru our teeth enthusiastically, etc. But Sammy – he’s so different!

He’s very specific about clothes, refuses to get dressed in the morning unless he’s approved of the outfit ahead of time. And he’ll insist that I cut out the tags of his shirt. He’s got three older sisters, so he learned early that if it glitters, it’s good. He believes firmly that there is no outfit that wouldn’t be improved upon if there was a beribboned headband on his head. But there are so many ways in that he’s such a quintessential BOY that I’m always a little baffled. Like the truck and choo choo fascination. Trash trucks, fire trucks, even a big van is enough to send my boy into ecstasy. He presses his face to the window screen and screams out “TRUUUUUCK!” whenever one happens to drive by the house. He’s thrilled by bugs, thrilled by them. Earlier today, he killed an ant with his little finger, toddled past me to the potty, and flushed it. No comments to me, just handled the situation just like Daddy does. He hated the carriage from the beginning, and it’s only now that he’s two that he’ll consent to sit in one for any length of time. He’s obsessed with ducks – all birds, really, and will yell at them at the park plaintively, getting irritated that they don’t come when he demands it. He’s in love with his older sister, everything is about “Dessi.” He’s recently become enamored with “NO” and “MINE.” I capitilize these because he doesn’t say them, so much as he yells them. He forbids other children from climbing the slide when we’re at the playground and likes nothing more than snatching a toy and screaming that it’s his, and only his.

But he’s got this sweetness, this earnestness about him. He’s a communicator, when he’s upset, the only thing that will calm him down is when I articulate exactly what happened. “You wanted to play with Jessie’s toy, Jessie said no, so you tried to bite her, and Mommy put you in time out until you could say you were sorry.” And he’ll nod sadly and agree, and only then, after he’s sure you understand exactly why he’s so distraught, will he start to calm down. He’s a grubby mess most of the time, but he can skin his little knees and keep on trucking. No tears for him – he’s fallen off of furniture, tries his best to fly by jumping off of stuff, he’s hell bent on causing himself bodily harm, and yet somehow, he’s still fine. A little bumped and bruised, he’s had black eyes, split lips and big bumps, but no stitches and no broken bones.

He’s very similiar to Marc – that same level, easy temperment, he’s not affected by Jessie’s moods, she can be screaming like a mad woman over something, and he’s just popping along, happy as can be.