How to get here... three kids, three smiles, only one neighborhood sled.
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| Caboose kid- all the way to the back, legs out |
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| Repeat with middle kid |
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| Front kid- Criss Cross Applesauce |
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| And lock the legs! |
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Monday, January 10
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#11)
Monday, July 5
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#10)
A wise man once said that one of the keys to becoming rich was to only buy one or two types of sock. You will save yourself hours of time because you won't have to sort and pair matching sock... they all match. You also will not find yourself with a drawer full of single socks nor will you resort to paying your four children a quarter per each pair they match in the annual Llewellyn sock-a-thon.
And yet, we were left with this...
Since sandal season started, I have not been matching socks around here. They all go in the sock bin where (I promise myself) they will be sorted at a later time. We have been periodically digging out matches when Westbrook wants to wear his speed shoes* or we take a trip to the bounce house.
The sock bin has been a point of contention in the house as the basket has started overflowing. Conversations sound something like this "But I folded all the laundry so you should be the one to sort the socks." "If you sort the socks, then I will (insert awful task here)." "Did you see I sorted the first 92 layers of socks? Can you do the rest? I know there are another 1789 layers, but I started!" "Let's assume they all no longer fit and toss the whole thing."
I finally decided that come hell or high water, we were not leaving for vacation without all the socks matched.** So we paired just shy of 100 pairs of socks between the four of us- all sizes (newborns socks? really?), colors, and patterns.
And yet, we were left with this...
Where could all those single socks be? Wouldn't you think that so many socks would be noticeable if they were just hanging around the house? Apparently not.
So, what has motherhood taught me? Listen to your father.
*Sammy's old Nikes with fire designed laces!
**Pre-vacation nesting also included rearranging furniture, cleaning out closets, and making the house junk drawer-less.
Sunday, June 20
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#11)
Always say yes when someone offers you free costumes or you spot them on sale. Always.
Thursday, June 10
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#10)
When Llandis in unattended for more than two seconds, you never know what you will find...
Like a hallway full discarded clothes.
And a naked girl on the potty... in gold shoes!
Or sneaking snack bars from the pantry
Like a hallway full discarded clothes.
And a naked girl on the potty... in gold shoes!
Or sneaking snack bars from the pantry
Tuesday, May 25
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#9)
Video monitors are worth their weight in gold.
Llandis hanging off the bed asleep... feet on the floor, belly in the air, arms overhead.
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#8)
Watermelons need seeds.
Plus, there aren't really that many seeds in the big guys...
Try finding a seedless watermelon big enough to do this...
or this...
And they are never juicy enough...
Watermelons need seeds.
or this...
And they are never juicy enough...
Watermelons need seeds. (Can you tell just how much I love watermelon? Heavens, it is wonderful stuff!)
Monday, April 12
Sunday, April 4
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#7)
How to increase your chances of a decent family photos...
Place the kids in a lovely area with something sweet:
The moment they are finished get ready to move!
In one swift movement, swoop in, toss aside things like cake plates and sunglasses...
Smile!
Hold tight!
Whisper words like candy and promise:
Awesome!
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#5)
Give a kid a job involving fruit and they will eat it all. (Apologies to most of the Easter lunch crew that found themselves fruitless)
I really love this photo. The colors are fantastic. The food is all beautiful... deviled eggs in the front, yellow flowers on the side, colorful fruit in the crystal, and a lovely cake in the background. Llandis' milky skin nearly sets me over the edge.
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#4)
No matter how many times I organize a space or install clever stuff-keepers (like the shoe bins & stool that should be holding all the shoes blocking the walkway), this house will still be a mess.
Wednesday, March 3
Quote of the Day
Westbrook:
Mommy, do you know why I was crying earlier why you were up in your office working? I was really in need of your love.
Sunday, February 28
On Having More (but really on having less)
(This post prompted by Catherine)
I get the question "Do you want more?” on a regular basis. Once people learn we had two kids back to back, they assume we wants a house full of kids. Guess what? We have a house full of kids and all their tiny socks. We have the permanent imprint of Legos on the soles of our feet. The laundry never stops. The closets are full. Trust me, we are busting at the seams with little people.
Plus, we planned on having two all along. We were blessed to get pregnant when we wanted. We were even more blessed with two perfectly healthy kids. To top it all off we have one of each. What more could parents want? I feel we would be pushing our luck to try to make this family any larger. How could we possibly be so lucky again when so many families are not? Now, don't get me wrong. There wouldn't be an ounce of regret if an "oops" happened. Panic? Yes. Regret? No chance.
Despite everything panning out as we hoped, there is a part of me that wants more kids. They always say you will know when your family is complete. I can honestly say I don’t have that feeling. For a long time, thoughts of a third child always came along when I focused less on what I wanted and more on what I wanted my children to have…. more. I don't really want to grow, birth or stay up all night with more kids... I just want my kids to have more siblings. When I think about Westbrook and Llandis only having one sibling it makes me profoundly sad. I had three growing up. That is enough people in the house for a good game of charades or Uno. There were always three others with which to fight, laugh, argue, or scheme. Chances are another sibling would eat less at dinner or yell louder allowing me to escape punishment. (In case you are wondering, we called this easy to catch other sibling Drew.)
One would guess that the pull for more children comes in the quiet moments when my two are playing nicely and sleeping soundly. Or perhaps when the house is clean and I have it all figured out. In fact, it is the opposite. I want more kids after large family gatherings where everyone talks at once, Mom is panicking in the kitchen about the turkey, Ben is scowling as he lugs extra chairs out of the attic and the kids are attempting to scream their heads off with their cousins. Watching the chaos makes me realize that there should be more of us.
I have come to realize that dreams of more children are not actually about children at all. My need for a larger family has nothing to do with Westbrook and Llandis having more siblings (although I will always wish they had more). No amount of children, mine or my siblings, could make our family what I need it to be. We are missing an entire portion of our family. Drew, his wife, their children. The void is too large to fill.
So do I want more? Yes but we are going to have to settle for less. No matter how large we grew our family we would always be short a few people. So we are done for now with no plans to restart the factory. We will leave the next round for others.
I get the question "Do you want more?” on a regular basis. Once people learn we had two kids back to back, they assume we wants a house full of kids. Guess what? We have a house full of kids and all their tiny socks. We have the permanent imprint of Legos on the soles of our feet. The laundry never stops. The closets are full. Trust me, we are busting at the seams with little people.
Plus, we planned on having two all along. We were blessed to get pregnant when we wanted. We were even more blessed with two perfectly healthy kids. To top it all off we have one of each. What more could parents want? I feel we would be pushing our luck to try to make this family any larger. How could we possibly be so lucky again when so many families are not? Now, don't get me wrong. There wouldn't be an ounce of regret if an "oops" happened. Panic? Yes. Regret? No chance.
Despite everything panning out as we hoped, there is a part of me that wants more kids. They always say you will know when your family is complete. I can honestly say I don’t have that feeling. For a long time, thoughts of a third child always came along when I focused less on what I wanted and more on what I wanted my children to have…. more. I don't really want to grow, birth or stay up all night with more kids... I just want my kids to have more siblings. When I think about Westbrook and Llandis only having one sibling it makes me profoundly sad. I had three growing up. That is enough people in the house for a good game of charades or Uno. There were always three others with which to fight, laugh, argue, or scheme. Chances are another sibling would eat less at dinner or yell louder allowing me to escape punishment. (In case you are wondering, we called this easy to catch other sibling Drew.)
One would guess that the pull for more children comes in the quiet moments when my two are playing nicely and sleeping soundly. Or perhaps when the house is clean and I have it all figured out. In fact, it is the opposite. I want more kids after large family gatherings where everyone talks at once, Mom is panicking in the kitchen about the turkey, Ben is scowling as he lugs extra chairs out of the attic and the kids are attempting to scream their heads off with their cousins. Watching the chaos makes me realize that there should be more of us.
I have come to realize that dreams of more children are not actually about children at all. My need for a larger family has nothing to do with Westbrook and Llandis having more siblings (although I will always wish they had more). No amount of children, mine or my siblings, could make our family what I need it to be. We are missing an entire portion of our family. Drew, his wife, their children. The void is too large to fill.
So do I want more? Yes but we are going to have to settle for less. No matter how large we grew our family we would always be short a few people. So we are done for now with no plans to restart the factory. We will leave the next round for others.
Friday, February 19
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#2)
The more hair bands you use, the more likely the hair will be in place at the end of preschool....
What Motherhood Has Taught Me (#1)
Every mother should have one of these:
If you don't have a Riri, you are missing out. She shows up when we need her most. She loves the kids. She isn't afraid to change a diaper. She throws great afternoon parties. And she makes great birthday cakes.
We love you RIRI!
If you don't have a Riri, you are missing out. She shows up when we need her most. She loves the kids. She isn't afraid to change a diaper. She throws great afternoon parties. And she makes great birthday cakes.
We love you RIRI!
Sunday, January 3
10 Years
Here we are in 2010... a new decade. The last decade was pretty profound. My life changed more than it probably will in any other decade. For a friend's website, I did a quick snapshot of the main events in the last ten years. The transition from college junior to wife & mother is pretty overwhelming.
In the last ten years, I...
- Turned 21
- Woke up every morning for 3 months staring at the Twin Towers- they were gone a month after I left NYC
- Graduated college
- Eagerly started my career
- Got married
- Changed career paths to be both proud of the work I do and successful at the same time
- Bought our first house on our first wedding anniversary
- Days later, heard "they think it's cancer" and actually laughed because it sounded ridiculous
- Had two healthy, happy, perfect babies
- Watched both of my brothers grow into fine men
- Made the bestest best friend a girl can have
- Said goodbye to Drew and any optimistic innocence I had left
- Discovered that without a sense of humor motherhood will kill you
- Watched my sister finally become the mother to more kids than any of us could handle (yet she can)
- Did not turn 30. That's for this decade. (Just in case you were wondering.) ((I know, I know. I look really young for my age. No stop. You flatter me. It's embarrassing. Really.)) (((Keep going)))((((.... even if you are lying.))))
Friday, November 6
A Day in The Life
I don't post much about Wade and myself because, frankly, we aren't all that cute. I took a trip to Nashville recently that was exciting and worth sharing.
The plan: Get up at 4:30 am, catch a flight to Washington to then get on a flight to Nashville, and meet up with a coworker for a 45 minute meeting with a new customer. Then, wait for 4-6 hours for my return flight to Charlotte via Washington. Be home around 1 am. Sounds pretty painful but simple, right? Not so much.
The reality: When I woke up at 4:30am I knew I was in trouble. The night before I had an unexplained headache. I get a lot of aches (old lady hip, crunchy knees, failing pacemakers) but rarely headaches. I knew is was an ear infection when I bent down to get my shoes. I searched our medicine cabinet for an OTC pain medication that would allow me to get through the day. The only meds I found were two c-sections and two pacemaker surgeries worth of heavy duty stuff and a bottle of Aleve that expired in 2007. Since I was meeting a coworker in Nashville and my ticket cost a startling $750 for a middle coach seat, I had no choice but to keep moving. The morning flights were painful. Ear infections plus altitude changes equals intense piercing pain in your brain. It was hands down the worst pain I have ever felt up to that point. Keep in mind folks...I have had two kids.
The day progressed as expected. My hearing was foggy and I was a little dizzy from a combination of pain and sinus pressure. Did I mention the sinus pressure yet? It started on my flight to Washington but got brain melting mid-air to Nashville. At the meeting, a very important meeting, I met the new buyer. She is an abrasive southern woman with a thick accent. Her accent was completely inaudible to my fluid filled ears. I heard a few things but only said a collective 10 words. Six of those words were um or uh. It was bad. Thankfully, my co-worker picked up my slack.
Back at the airport, my co-worker breezed through security while the TSA agent asked me to confirm my weight, height, hair color, eye color, used the flash light on my ID, and asked me to repeat my address- twice. My coworker caught his direct flight home while I settled in to a booth at Starbucks to get some work done. I had six hours before my flight was scheduled to leave. About four hours, four Power Point presentations and 27 spread sheets worth of data later, my vision was dismal and my hearing was shot. I asked an attendant which Washington flight and gate I should head towards. Of course it was on the opposite side of the airport. At the gate, I double checked I was in the right place and was told my gate moved.... back to the other side of the airport.
I waited along with everyone else headed to DC. The flight was supposed to take off at 7 pm but didn't start boarding until 8 pm. The attendant scanned my ticket, said something under her breath, and handed me my ticket. She nearly clotheslined me when I tried to proceed towards the plane. Since I couldn't hear her, I missed the important details of her comments. Wrong flight. Wrong time. Wrong concourse. Wrong airline.
Super.
And the airline had no more flights. Nor did my original airline.
Superduper.
I checked the flight board while praying to all available flight gods for a flight that would get me home. USAir had a flight scheduled for 8:20 direct to Charlotte. The gate? The exact opposite end of the airport. So I ran. In heels. In hose. In a dress. With a heavy work bag. And boy did I run....like a woman in heels wearing hose, Spanx, a wrap around dress carrying a heavy bag and off balance from a combined ear-sinus infection. I can not imagine what I looked like and I don't want to try. It is just too ugly.
During my run, I tried to determine how much I would pay for a ticket to get me home. Should I expense it? Should I pay? If the ticket is less than a hotel room, could I justify expensing the cost? If I paid out of pocket, could we afford an unexpected $300 expense?
I arrived at the USAir gate as folks were boarding. With tears in my eyes, I plead my case to the nice man behind the desk. He was so lovely to me. The flight was full, however, the 5 pm flight was still delayed with plenty of room. He wouldn't charge me for a ticket if Northwest would just transfer the ticket. He explained that all I needed to do was got the NWA desk and request a transfer. He gave me the codes I needed and sent me on my way.... the other side of the airport. The Nashville airport has three long concourses that meet in the middle. He instructed me to the third concourse which would at least be new scenery. He was also clear that I had only 45 minutes before the flight was scheduled to leave. So I ran. Again. And my bag handles broke. So I ran while holding my 25lb bag in front of my chest.
Only this time there was no one at the desk. They had closed for the day since there were no more flights in or out. My only option was to go outside security and hope someone was at the main desk. I confirmed with the security officer four times that I could get back in if the NWA lady was gone.
There was an NWA lady at the desk but she was sassy, grumpy, and busy taking out the trash. She was annoyed at my request. She was annoyed that I couldn't hear her and asked her to repeat everything. (Just talk louder lady!) Her computer wouldn't print so she had to go through the process twice. The longer I stood there, the more I knew that I wasn't going to get home. I was going to have to get a hotel room and tons of medicine. I wouldn't make it home in time to get to the doctor the next day.
Finally, she handed me my ticket while rolling her eyes so hard I am surprised she stayed upright.
More running.
The same security agent that let me out checked my id and pass. More flashlights and questions. Tick tock. Tick tock. I pulled out my computer, my phone, took off my shoes and coat. Since I have a pacemaker, it is advised that I skip the metal detector and get the pat down. So there I am half dressed waiting for a pat down when a police officer and the TSA manager come over. For inexperienced fliers, you should know that this isn't good.
Where did you get the boarding pass?
Who issued it?
Please state your full name.
Birthdate.
Address.
Why are you flying?
How often do you fly?
Are you flying alone?
Did you check a bag?
They made copies of my ID and my ticket.
"Mrs. Cox, we need to take a walk."
I start crying while trying not to cry. I sense a strip search in future. Instead, we walk back out of security to the NWA desk. The not-so-kind lady is too busy to help me. She is on the phone talking loudly about her DVR. So we wait. Me sniffling. Cop pacing. TSA lady asking me question after question about my ticket. Did you know that when you are found with a "suspicious boarding pass" that you will have a police escort the remainder of your visit at the airport? Yeah. You do.
Finally, little miss NWA finished her important call and assisted us in printing the appropriate papers so we could go to USAir to get a real boarding pass.
For the time sensitive, I should have missed my new flight by now but it was delayed even more.
So with my police escort, I waited while the TSA door man checked my ID... again. Flashlights and questions. I got the obligatory pat down. And then I ran. (The cop fast walked)
I got to gate and it was empty. The gate moved.... to the other side of the airport. The farthest possible gate from where I was standing.
Take a guess as to what me and my armed shadow did next. Run.
When we finally arrived at the right gate with the right ticket, I found 30 frustrated delayed people staring wide eyed at me- sweaty, blotchy and red faced with a cop in tow. The only thing people LOVE more than having their flight delayed is knowing a fellow passenger is being tailed by a police officer. Honestly, I didn't care about the stares and whispers. I was going home.
The direct flight home was even more painful than the morning flights. The guy nearby and the flight attendant asked me if I needed medical care when we landed. What I needed was my bed and my Wade.
I finally walked in the door at 11pm.
Wade asked me "How was your day?"
I realized that while my day turned into a complete debacle leaving me forever on the TSA list I was home earlier than expected. And I got in lots of cardio.
I responded "Eh, it's a toss up."
The plan: Get up at 4:30 am, catch a flight to Washington to then get on a flight to Nashville, and meet up with a coworker for a 45 minute meeting with a new customer. Then, wait for 4-6 hours for my return flight to Charlotte via Washington. Be home around 1 am. Sounds pretty painful but simple, right? Not so much.
The reality: When I woke up at 4:30am I knew I was in trouble. The night before I had an unexplained headache. I get a lot of aches (old lady hip, crunchy knees, failing pacemakers) but rarely headaches. I knew is was an ear infection when I bent down to get my shoes. I searched our medicine cabinet for an OTC pain medication that would allow me to get through the day. The only meds I found were two c-sections and two pacemaker surgeries worth of heavy duty stuff and a bottle of Aleve that expired in 2007. Since I was meeting a coworker in Nashville and my ticket cost a startling $750 for a middle coach seat, I had no choice but to keep moving. The morning flights were painful. Ear infections plus altitude changes equals intense piercing pain in your brain. It was hands down the worst pain I have ever felt up to that point. Keep in mind folks...I have had two kids.
The day progressed as expected. My hearing was foggy and I was a little dizzy from a combination of pain and sinus pressure. Did I mention the sinus pressure yet? It started on my flight to Washington but got brain melting mid-air to Nashville. At the meeting, a very important meeting, I met the new buyer. She is an abrasive southern woman with a thick accent. Her accent was completely inaudible to my fluid filled ears. I heard a few things but only said a collective 10 words. Six of those words were um or uh. It was bad. Thankfully, my co-worker picked up my slack.
Back at the airport, my co-worker breezed through security while the TSA agent asked me to confirm my weight, height, hair color, eye color, used the flash light on my ID, and asked me to repeat my address- twice. My coworker caught his direct flight home while I settled in to a booth at Starbucks to get some work done. I had six hours before my flight was scheduled to leave. About four hours, four Power Point presentations and 27 spread sheets worth of data later, my vision was dismal and my hearing was shot. I asked an attendant which Washington flight and gate I should head towards. Of course it was on the opposite side of the airport. At the gate, I double checked I was in the right place and was told my gate moved.... back to the other side of the airport.
I waited along with everyone else headed to DC. The flight was supposed to take off at 7 pm but didn't start boarding until 8 pm. The attendant scanned my ticket, said something under her breath, and handed me my ticket. She nearly clotheslined me when I tried to proceed towards the plane. Since I couldn't hear her, I missed the important details of her comments. Wrong flight. Wrong time. Wrong concourse. Wrong airline.
Super.
And the airline had no more flights. Nor did my original airline.
Superduper.
I checked the flight board while praying to all available flight gods for a flight that would get me home. USAir had a flight scheduled for 8:20 direct to Charlotte. The gate? The exact opposite end of the airport. So I ran. In heels. In hose. In a dress. With a heavy work bag. And boy did I run....like a woman in heels wearing hose, Spanx, a wrap around dress carrying a heavy bag and off balance from a combined ear-sinus infection. I can not imagine what I looked like and I don't want to try. It is just too ugly.
During my run, I tried to determine how much I would pay for a ticket to get me home. Should I expense it? Should I pay? If the ticket is less than a hotel room, could I justify expensing the cost? If I paid out of pocket, could we afford an unexpected $300 expense?
I arrived at the USAir gate as folks were boarding. With tears in my eyes, I plead my case to the nice man behind the desk. He was so lovely to me. The flight was full, however, the 5 pm flight was still delayed with plenty of room. He wouldn't charge me for a ticket if Northwest would just transfer the ticket. He explained that all I needed to do was got the NWA desk and request a transfer. He gave me the codes I needed and sent me on my way.... the other side of the airport. The Nashville airport has three long concourses that meet in the middle. He instructed me to the third concourse which would at least be new scenery. He was also clear that I had only 45 minutes before the flight was scheduled to leave. So I ran. Again. And my bag handles broke. So I ran while holding my 25lb bag in front of my chest.
Only this time there was no one at the desk. They had closed for the day since there were no more flights in or out. My only option was to go outside security and hope someone was at the main desk. I confirmed with the security officer four times that I could get back in if the NWA lady was gone.
There was an NWA lady at the desk but she was sassy, grumpy, and busy taking out the trash. She was annoyed at my request. She was annoyed that I couldn't hear her and asked her to repeat everything. (Just talk louder lady!) Her computer wouldn't print so she had to go through the process twice. The longer I stood there, the more I knew that I wasn't going to get home. I was going to have to get a hotel room and tons of medicine. I wouldn't make it home in time to get to the doctor the next day.
Finally, she handed me my ticket while rolling her eyes so hard I am surprised she stayed upright.
More running.
The same security agent that let me out checked my id and pass. More flashlights and questions. Tick tock. Tick tock. I pulled out my computer, my phone, took off my shoes and coat. Since I have a pacemaker, it is advised that I skip the metal detector and get the pat down. So there I am half dressed waiting for a pat down when a police officer and the TSA manager come over. For inexperienced fliers, you should know that this isn't good.
Where did you get the boarding pass?
Who issued it?
Please state your full name.
Birthdate.
Address.
Why are you flying?
How often do you fly?
Are you flying alone?
Did you check a bag?
They made copies of my ID and my ticket.
"Mrs. Cox, we need to take a walk."
I start crying while trying not to cry. I sense a strip search in future. Instead, we walk back out of security to the NWA desk. The not-so-kind lady is too busy to help me. She is on the phone talking loudly about her DVR. So we wait. Me sniffling. Cop pacing. TSA lady asking me question after question about my ticket. Did you know that when you are found with a "suspicious boarding pass" that you will have a police escort the remainder of your visit at the airport? Yeah. You do.
Finally, little miss NWA finished her important call and assisted us in printing the appropriate papers so we could go to USAir to get a real boarding pass.
For the time sensitive, I should have missed my new flight by now but it was delayed even more.
So with my police escort, I waited while the TSA door man checked my ID... again. Flashlights and questions. I got the obligatory pat down. And then I ran. (The cop fast walked)
I got to gate and it was empty. The gate moved.... to the other side of the airport. The farthest possible gate from where I was standing.
Take a guess as to what me and my armed shadow did next. Run.
When we finally arrived at the right gate with the right ticket, I found 30 frustrated delayed people staring wide eyed at me- sweaty, blotchy and red faced with a cop in tow. The only thing people LOVE more than having their flight delayed is knowing a fellow passenger is being tailed by a police officer. Honestly, I didn't care about the stares and whispers. I was going home.
The direct flight home was even more painful than the morning flights. The guy nearby and the flight attendant asked me if I needed medical care when we landed. What I needed was my bed and my Wade.
I finally walked in the door at 11pm.
Wade asked me "How was your day?"
I realized that while my day turned into a complete debacle leaving me forever on the TSA list I was home earlier than expected. And I got in lots of cardio.
I responded "Eh, it's a toss up."
The next morning I surveyed the carnage: Ear infection. Sinus infection. Bronchitis. (Surprise!) Broken Bag. (Did I mention I had bought the bag the day before? It was less than 24 hours old when it broke)
There you have it. A day in the life of the traveling working mom show. Awesome, eh?
Thursday, October 15
A Big Day
I opened a fortune cookie on Monday that said Thursday would be a big day in my life. Not sure that it was but it was a big day in the lives of people we care about dearly. We have been thinking about them all day.
*Josh had surgery to clear out an infection in his ongoing battle to regain his health after colon & lung cancer. I haven't heard an update yet but hope to tonight or tomorrow.
**Kerri, aka RiRi... aakkaa Stinky RiRi, had a birthday. A BIG birthday. Westbrook drew a pretty picture and Llandis made spots (on herself and the paper) to celebrate. We also called with a silly birthday song. The real celebrating comes this weekend- grown up style.
***Oct 15 is National Day of Remembrance for Infant Loss. Several of our friends have suffered unimaginable losses in the past few years. We always remember and love the children they have lost. We always remember that they are mothers of more children than they put to bed each night. But today, we remember them even more.
*Josh had surgery to clear out an infection in his ongoing battle to regain his health after colon & lung cancer. I haven't heard an update yet but hope to tonight or tomorrow.
**Kerri, aka RiRi... aakkaa Stinky RiRi, had a birthday. A BIG birthday. Westbrook drew a pretty picture and Llandis made spots (on herself and the paper) to celebrate. We also called with a silly birthday song. The real celebrating comes this weekend- grown up style.
***Oct 15 is National Day of Remembrance for Infant Loss. Several of our friends have suffered unimaginable losses in the past few years. We always remember and love the children they have lost. We always remember that they are mothers of more children than they put to bed each night. But today, we remember them even more.
Wednesday, October 14
Things Said, Things Broken
Westbrook woke up with a seal cough at 2 am so he got to stay home from school today. He spent most of the day watching movies, playing blocks, and coloring. I hate when the kids are sick but I love getting them to myself for the day, especially when they feel good enough that I can still work. After a quick trip to the doctors office, we stopped by Target to pick up the recommended meds. Westbrook turned to me and said "Mommy, I love hanging out with you on our special day. " Then, he gave me a very loving kiss. Two women passing by almost fainted from the cuteness they witnessed.
Tonight, the kids were the root of a very loud crash. Ceramic pumpkin down. I should note that I bought the ill fated pumpkin to replace the one they broke last year. I guess I should give up on ceramic pumpkins until we reach the grace period between the kids leaving for college and arriving with grandkids. (Did I just mention my own grandkids when my own children are only 2 & 3? Oy.)
Tonight, the kids were the root of a very loud crash. Ceramic pumpkin down. I should note that I bought the ill fated pumpkin to replace the one they broke last year. I guess I should give up on ceramic pumpkins until we reach the grace period between the kids leaving for college and arriving with grandkids. (Did I just mention my own grandkids when my own children are only 2 & 3? Oy.)
So how did Westbrook react when I came into the room to clean up the pumpkin? "Mommy, I am sorry you put that pretty pumpkin somewhere that Baby Sister and I could break it. It isn't really your fault. It isn't my fault. Or Baby Sisters."
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