T3 and T-3.5

We leave for England in less than four weeks.  I should be incredibly excited, but I'm just nervous about the travel.  Once we get there I'll have a great time and be happy about being there, but the anticipation is killer.  I just want things to go smoothly.  No delays, no problems at security.  Easy trip.  No problems with weather and driving.  Just so many possibilities for things to go wrong.  So I need to be positive.  Quell the fears and not worry so much.  Everything will be fine.  It will be what it will. I just want it to be a smooth experience for both kids.

As for T3, things seem fine.  Food is a bit of an effort, but that shouldn't last too long based on past experience.  I'm nervous about all of this, too.  Tired--no exhausted.  I'm sure it will all work out.  Little late, but there you go.  God has a plan. Even for an old, decrepit girl like me.  (this, according to Elspeth, who last week told me "Mom, when you're old and decrepit, I'll take care of you."  Took me ages to figure out that she had actually said the word decrepit.  Gotta love her.)

safety and locked doors

Little M is safe and secure, and both our girls are back with us today.  And I've locked all the doors.  Am I afraid?  Not really, but how to explain to my girl that she can't open the door to people she knows and recognizes?  A little hard.  I don't want her to fear for her safety, but I can't have her let anyone in without my consent--by law.

Crazy?  Yes.  Never imagined I'd be in a situation like this.  All I can say is that I love my incredible, gentle, honest husband.  I am so fortunate. 

how to lie to your children--and feel bad doing it

I've recently been put in the position of having to tell my children an untruth--to protect them from the ugliness of the world.  I don't like it.  I am usually very honest and open with my kids, but how do you explain violence to a four and two year-old?  How do I tell them my heart is heavy for my friend and their friends without tainting their world?  I don't know.  But my heart is heavy.  And I fear for my friend.  I hurt for her.  Someday, I will tell my children about people who bully others because it gives them a feeling of power.  I try to show my children the importance of respect for everyone.  I teach them to love as Christ commanded, to say sorry, to forgive, and to forget wrongs.  I try to teach them to stand up for themselves.  I hope it's enough. 

Be safe, my friend.  Be safe, little M and little A.  Be safe, big M.

sick of sick

It has been a horrid few weeks with illnesses at our house.  First husband had a cold--bad for him with only one lung.  Not any more dangerous, but takes longer for him to recover.  Then I got sick.  It was like my intestines had turned into a water canon of sorts.  Not exactly water, but with that force and volume.  Yuck.  Was sick on a Friday, better on a Saturday and Sunday morning, then it was back again on the Sunday afternoon and Monday.  UGH. 

I finally got better, then husband got the loosey goosies.  He had NEVER had that before in all of his 39 years.  Poor man.  It only lasted one day for him, but then last Thursday night Bubba puked and puked and puked.  I slept on the floor in their room, puke bucket at the ready.  Friday he seemed OK.  Saturday afternoon, he puked again a few times.  Sunday he was fine.  Yesterday after dinner he puked his pancakes.  Since then, he's been OK.  Who knows.  As long as he doesn't puke today or tomorrow, we're probably out of the woods.  MOPS in the morning--risk it?  We'll see.

In other news. . .  been digging out old clothes, surprised to find them fitting again.  I have lost 20 pounds, even though I had really hoped to lost 30 or 40 before now.  Oh well.  More to come on this in the next few months.

underwear

So, Bubba decided yesterday that he was going to wear underwear.  I put them on him in the morning, put on a nappy for nap, and back on after the nap.  He had no accidents through the day and told me every time he needed to use the toilet.  He did have one accident, but it was outside after supper and it was cold.  He did NOT like the feel of wet jeans.  Today he did it again. Told me every time, held it, and went--today we even did it standing up.  We did wear a pull up to the grocery store, but went to the bathroom twice while we were there (at his request) and he actually went both times.  Had to stop on the side of the road on the way home, but he did go as he claimed he needed to. Had two small accidents--one outside before supper (because he was playing with water "helping" wash our dear neighbour's car), and one when we got home from the grocery store because he was mad and crying on the floor.

I was NOT ready for this.  He's my little man--my baby.  I wasn't planning on doing this until we got back from traveling!!!  Guess it's not really my choice.  He's ready.  But where did my cuddly, nappy-wearing boy go?  He speaks more clearly than he should for his age, though I won't complain.  He can already ride the Princess's bicycle and peddle without help.  He's so independent.  He's turning into a little boy and outgrowing that toddler stage.  Not sure I'm ready to let that happen, but what mama is?

While I'm thinking, I've been meaning to write down our version of Rock a Bye Baby
Rock a bye, baby, in mama's arms
Nothing can hurt you, you'll come to no harm
Close I will keep you, I'll hold you tight
I'll rock and protect you, all through the night
Much better than being dropped out of a tree in the wind.

naps and tears

I have successfully put my entire family down for naps--even the husband.  Actually, the children put Daddy down for a nap--they tucked him in and even read him a story.  Puff the Magic Dragon.  Such a sweet sound.  Then off to naps for them.  I am left to finish rinsing and then putting out to dry the load of nappies.  If I'm fast, I may even be able to sneak in another cup of coffee.  Might be pushing it, but we'll see.

We attended my uncle's 80th birthday party last night, and I had a surprisingly nice time.  For whatever reason, we don't very often get together as a large family so I haven't seen my uncle, his children, and his grand and great grandchildren for years.  The lovely part of the evening was talking to one of my older cousins, who gave me an unexpected memory of my mom.  She cried when she talked about her, and if felt so good to have someone else remember her and miss her.  She told me about all the cakes my mom made and decorated for her, and for just a moment I had a connection to my mom.  For a few seconds I could hear her laugh and remember the feel of her arms around me.  I don't have a lot of those memories.  I wish I did.  I miss her.  It will be twenty-six years this November 6th.  How have I survived without her?  How did I have a wedding day or birth two children without her encouragement?  How do I breathe?

Most of the time I think I'm fine, but the days that I think about her are bittersweet.  I long for just one more hug, one more touch, one more "I love you."  So I pour my longing into my kids--I give them what I long for.  I need a hug, I give one.  I need a touch, I caress their faces.  I need to hear "I love you," I tell them.  And I thank God in his wisdom for choosing the perfect children to chase away my tears.

Bubba

I was having a few quiet moments to myself--four children napping (my two and the two I watch).  This was an amazing moment as this rarely happens.  The two two-year-olds usually nap, but the three and four rarely do.  I had a cup of coffee, messed around with this blog, and then I heard the door open to the bedroom.  Bubba.

So my quiet moment has been interrupted by my boy.  We don't often get snuggle time, just he and I, so I will take this as a lovely moment.  My Bubba is such a love.  He's gentle, funny, and very verbal.  He has recently decided that he can use the toilet (not for everything, but I'm fine with that as the job he's chosen to master first is the dirtiest one).

Bubba is also a bit of a stinker.  He is always after my coffee, which he loves.  Don't worry.  I don't let him really drink it.  He usually gets the drips at the end of my cup.  Today he bit little M--twice.  When I asked him why, he said "I'm just crabby, Mom."  Well, we all have those days.  Where would I be without this guy?  He makes me smile and laugh.  He melts my heart.  He always asks "You happy with me, Mom?"  Oh yes, Bubby.  I'm happy with you.  I couldn't be happier.  God chose you for me because he knew I needed your smiles and sillies.  Bub is a lot like his daddy.  Both of them can make me smile even when I'm angry with them.

So much for a nice quiet time to write.  Bubba wants to play "the milky and the apple" game.  I have no idea what that is.  But I'll figure it out. . . for him.   Because I love him.