Love

I can say, with perfect certainty, that my life is flying by faster than everyone else's. Okay. It's a tad unrealistic-as Father Time waits for no man, woman, or child. However, because of this crazy hectic family we have here, it feels like my life is whizzing by me. I try desperately to hang onto it. I frame my pictures & post little quips online about 1sts, lasts, and all that is in-between. I stop often, caught up in the moment we are experiencing, and watch it as though my mind can capture the moment forever in it's exact form. I sniff the air & touch the life around me hoping to capture the essence of every bit of it. Yet, somehow, the ability to truly slow things to a snail's pace is absolutely impossible.

I watch Andrew-the child in him slowly drifting away-leaving in my little boy's place, a man. The smallness of his feet replaced by something that resembles his father's. I can easily slip my foot into his shoes & they fit as though they are my own. His voice, although still young, is beginning to do that wonderful thing all boy's voices do. He answers the phone, and I hear him say 'No, this is Andrew-but here's Mom' & I know that he is in that in-between stage. The one where he doesn't sound like a little boy, but he isn't quite the manly man he will be any day now. Peer pressure now doesn't mean liking Spongebob instead of Dora, or ditching the lunch box for a brown paper bag. Now it means watching out for the big stuff-the stuff that will directly affect his life in a serious manner.

Then there's Hannah. Previously my little princess-waltzing about in her pink dresses, tights, Mary Janes, and immaculate hair. Now she steals clothes from her brother-loves all things hippies, and literally takes my breath away as I catch the glimpses of an absolutely gorgeous girl emerging. Not just a little sister, or a big sister-she is her own entity. A wonderful girl who, as the years have progressed, has realized the beauty of behaving, and has allowed me to simply enjoy her, instead of having to loom over her for guidance & corrections.

The two of them are almost too much to bear. As a mother, they are everything one hopes for. In those first weeks of pregnancy the only things you can imagine are all of your hopes & dreams-fresh and loving-pastels & soft fleece gracing your cheek as you imagine these beautiful beings growing in your womb.

And then, as a cherry is to a sundae, so is our beautiful Thomas, who has entered our family with the gusto of, well Tom Tom. At all of one years old, he has reached the age where we really get to know him. His personality so large and lovable, you wish he could have been born earlier, so that you could have enjoyed him sooner. His smile is contagious, his laughter intoxicating. he's a snuggler and a lover-he knows who he wants to hug & he will fight until he gets to.

In him I see all of us. Sometimes, for the most fleeting of seconds, my mind reverts to those little moments of Andrew & Hannah's babyhood, and it's like I get to be there all over again with them. Thomas is a gift beyond words, and for every moment I am with him, I am thankful.

I am a firm believer in destiny. In knowing that each path we take is for a reason. Sometimes, in life, just as everyone does, I feel as though a decision I have made has been the wrong one. Then, just as clear as day, I am given a sign that shows me I am right where I am supposed to be.

How is it that I am so lucky to get to be their mom? I am humbled by this, and thankful that I was entrusted the job of raising them. I vowed, the moment that I found out that I was pregnant with Andrew, that I would arm myself with all that I could to ensure his life was one of honesty, purity, and above all else, an environment he would be able to grow into a good, kind man. That promise has never been forgotten, and as Hannah & Thomas joined our family, the same promise was made to them as well.

I am, without a doubt, undeniably in love.

Feeling My Parental Age

There's nothing like a tween in your home to humble you into realizing you're old. Although my kids are far from the typical "Stay away you're embarrassing me, Mom" kind of kids, I know there's that line you just don't want to cross to get there.

One of our big things around here is music. It's almost always on now. It replaces the tv most days. We dance to it, clean to it, or just simply relax & enjoy it. Of course, big pop hits are an official tween anthem so naturally it is the biggest selection on our playlist. I don't mind-I love to bounce my booty to the beat of Black Eyed Peas "Imma be" while unloading dishes or belt out the "new" California Girls song that seems to be on more than most.. I've got a spatula and lots of enthusiasm.

Here's the problem..beyond there, I am in no way able to affiliate these songs w/anything other than my precious 12, 9, and 1 year olds boot scootin' through the house.. So when I went out with some friends last night & they wanted to dance I felt so ridiculous on the floor. I've always had a problem dancing anyway. Give me a few drinks & I loosen up enough to know that I'm not good, but suddenly I don't care. However, last night, being the DD and then on top of that hearing every single song that we have on our playlist I just couldn't turn off the nagging "Mom, you're embarrassing me" voice in my head. That, or I'd see people provocatively dancing to a song my little 9 year old sings better than the pop singer & think about her precious little face. Or Andrew & his friends changing the words to goofy ones instead. Or the littlest, bouncing up and down clapping with so much enthusiasm I can't help but laugh a huge belly laugh.

I'm old. I'm okay with that. My kids are the age viewed as what's new & fresh. Idea makers & style creators. They're what the pop music industry are targeting for album sales. I don't want to be the mom of teenagers who won't let loose the grips of the "But I was young and hip once too!" fears that so many go through. I am truly enjoying parenting my tweens & toddler, and although I like to go out-love to have "me" time, I don't understand dressing skimpy or grinding up to people I really don't know and would never see again. I. Just. Don't. Get it. Nor do I need to-I shall enjoy this second phase of my life & embrace friends, family, and a good song to scrub the pots & pans to.