WHAT I REALLY WANT FOR MOTHER'S DAY

OK, listen up. I'm going to be very frank here.

I want a whole bunch of stuff for Mother's Day and I want it in this order.

First, I want to sleep in and wake up when I feel like it. Just once. Just for Mother's Day. Just please.

Then, I want to use the bathroom by myself, and get in the shower and be clean. I want to emerge when I feel like it. Not because anyone has pooped or anyone is crying or anyone can't find their blue caterpillar toy.

Third, I do not want my kids to be sick. Ever again. But if we could start with not being sick on Mother's Day, we'll go with that.

Fourth, I want $100 and a solo trip to Barnes & Noble. Solo. This is non-negotiable. I want everyone to understand that Barnes & Noble is situated in the mall. If I wander from book heaven into the mall and come back with an ice cream, or a tank top, or a pair of aqua loafers, but none of it is for you, this is fine. Nobody panic. I'm still Mom and I still love you.

Please allot approximately four hours for these tasks. During this time, I do not want to hear ANY WHINING AT ALL. And no crying. And please for the love of humanity, nobody fall down and get hurt. Please send your requests for food, drinks, or that toy that sister has, straight to Daddy. He will be happy to assist you.

After these terms have been met, I want you, my dear children, to know that I am totally grateful. I love you LIKE CRAZY and would sever my own appendages, run into a burning house, or apprehend a team of schoolyard bullies to keep you safe, make you happy, and ensure we have many, many more Mother's Days to spend together. I count my children as my greatest blessings and would never want to live a day without them.

But I think four hours is reasonable.

Songs about love

Right now, Sam is playing a song on the piano he says is called " I Love You, but Some People Don't Love You, but They Might Love You Anyway." It sounds like chaos.

...blood

Sister is turning into a champion walker. I can't think of when I've last seen her crawl. She toddles around the house at a slow pace, often with her left hand holding up her shirt and her right hand petting her tummy.

She sometimes loses her balance, spins 180 degrees, and falls onto her back. She wails. 

A few days ago, she was standing near the toy bench in the living room and took a tumble. She wasn't prepared (usually the case), and she bit her tongue on impact. Oh boy did it bleed! Poor thing...she cried and cried. 

As I was dabbing the blood from her mouth with a bit of paper towel, Sam came into the kitchen to observe. He saw the blood, looked shocked and grew pale, and ran away. A few seconds later he came creeping back, and he said softly: "Mama, did sister crack her head open?"

BA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!

That's what we always warn Sam about when he's doing something dangerous. "Don't jump on the couch! You'll fall and crack your head open!" He was sure that's what he was witnessing!

Self-cleaning

Last week I wondered if it was time to teach Sam how to wipe himself after going potty.

My mind raced through the likely scenarios:

Maybe he would refuse.

Maybe he would play in it.

Maybe he would try really hard but still get poo all over his fingers.

I decided it wasn't time.

But that day or the next day, a solo trip to the potty was taking a ridiculous amount of time. I heard a flush. "Are you done?" I called up the stairs. 

"Yes!" Sam said.

"Did you pee pee or poo poo?" I asked.

"I pee-peed AND poo-pooed!" he said.

I marched up the stairs, ready to wipe.

I found nothing on his rear. Checking the toilet, I saw no poop. I remembered hearing the flush. Concern grew over what he had flushed.

"I thought you said you pooped," I said. Worried.

"I did," Sam replied."And I wiped myself."

With only the slightest trace of poop found during my follow-up wipe, I was amazed. His bum was clean. His hands were clean. He was so proud of himself. And I was so proud of him!

He's wiped himself ever since - with varying degrees of success. There's no turning back now...and you can guess how OK I am with that. :)

Airing of grievances

Sam leaned too hard on his green balloon this evening and it popped.

It was devastating.

In full despair, Sam declared he loved that balloon and no longer wanted any bright green balloons. They were forever ruined for him.

Just then, Natalie climbed off my lap and onto the dinner table. 

"Does it make you feel better to see your sister on the table, shaking a baggie at you?" I asked.

"No," he grunted.

"Does it make you feel better to remember that on our walk today, you got to poke a stick into some poop?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "A little bit."

Anti-Quiche Establishment

There's a stark divide in this house and it centers around QUICHE. 

I have always loved quiche and cannot fathom why any palate would find it unappealing. But I married a man who dislikes quiche and our son has inherited his poor taste.

Precious daughter, however, is a big fan. So pllllllllbbbbttttt.

I made a quiche yesterday and have been enjoying it since. 

Tonight I was cuddling with Sam and we discussed quiche.

Me: Tomorrow you can have quiche for breakfast.

Sam: Tomorrow I may not get hungry.

Point to the tiny person for his humor.

Point to mom, who gets to finish the quiche (though hungry baby will need some too).

Closing in on 4 (and just passing 1)

As it happens, my kids are growing up. It shouldn't come as a surprise - but because every new phase is brightly different, it is always surprising.

Sam is brave enough to go down tall twisty slides (no big deal for some 2-year-olds, but a really big deal for him), has a vocabulary of a teenager (if you can forgive the "deedickilious" pronunciations), and a stunning power of observation. And he no longer says "waffa" for "lava". The volcano obsession continues.

Natalie has two upper teeth now to go with her two lowers. But it's funny to see that her uppers are not her two front teeth, which would match the lowers. Now her grin looks like some sort of funky zipper.

She is smart and funny. She still loves to go and do, but right now she seems a little less busy. She often does one thing at a time now, rather than a spastic collection of half-finished tasks. She is SO PRETTY.

We are all sick at the moment with some flu. Sam came to greet me a couple mornings ago and heard my hoarse voice in response. He looked thoughtfully at me and said, "I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I'm super sorry you're sick. I'll pray for you a lot. And I will get you an animal to help you feel better." He raced off and was back in a second with brown bear from the Eric Carle books. It was such a sweet thing to do...and I didn't even have to mention how I was feeling.

We just finished a weeklong visit from Grandma and Grabdpa Tractor. We had such a nice time. They arrived on Natalie's first birthday, just in time to announce that she seemed to be coming down with a fever. She was the first to get the flu. So far, Grandpa was the last. He is really sick right now...poor guy. While here he helped me build a headboard for my room and a bookcase for Sam's room. They are beautiful. It's a treasure to have them.

Visits from both my parents at the same time are rare and so sweet.