Life is hard. Afterall, it kills you.

Jenna's 6th birthday

Dear Jenna - Happy Birthday baby.  You turned six years old today and I can hardly believe it.  My mom always told me the years would start to go by faster once I had children, but I still wasn't prepared for blinking my eyes and finding you so grown up, beautiful, smart, and lovely. 

I was truly blessed when you were born Mother's Day weekend six years ago.  I had no idea what motherhood was all about, but I was ready to get my on-the-job training from you.

At 6 weeks you got colic and we would sit and rock or stand and walk all over the house.  Crying together.  You cause you couldn't help it and me cause I couldn't help you. 

At three months you started to smile and sleep through the night.  I thought an angel had come in the middle of the night and swiped my little demon screamer for a cherub baby full of giggles and love. Now I still see the demon shoot from those eyes like daggers when you don't get your way... but mostly you are a sweet girl that wants to please everyone with your smile and witty personality.

Did you know your first word was at 4 months old?  I am not kidding.  You would point and say "DA" for dog everytime our dog Shiner walked into the room.  Barely holding your head steady, and already you were communicating with us.  By 6 months you had "Da da" "Mamamama" and "no" down.  By a year old you could say three word sentances.  People we met out in public were amazed by your big blue eyes and vocabulary. 

When I was 6 months pregnant with your brother, we would be waiting for a seat in the restaurant and you would introduce me to the other people in the waiting area.  "Hello, my name is Jenna.  My favorite color is red.  This is my Mommy, Miranda, she has my baby broda in her tummy.  She's not fat."  Everyone would giggle at you and ask how old you were, thinking her were just small for your age, as you had such maturity.  When I shrugged and said "She isn't quite two yet." .... well let's just say I think a few people thought I was lying.  And others were shocked into silence.  Some would look at their own child that was near the same age with a look that said "Why aren't you talking as good as her?" 

And you haven't shut up since.  You watch the television and tell me "Mom, I don't think this show is appropriate for Nate."  Or you will start a sentance with "Well Mom, TECHNICALLY, it's _____" fill in your very forthright opinion on said topic. 

Everyone at your school has nicknamed you Hannah Montana.  At first I thought it was because of your intense obsession with the fourteen year old.  But I am beginning to wonder if it isn't because you act a bit like you are fourteen already yourself.

You aren't only smart, you are athletic.  You were throwing a ball to us before you could sit up.  You are only six, but you have mastered roller skating, riding your new big girl bike, and two-wheel scooter (The Razor) and are the star in your danceclass.    I honestly don't think there is ANYTHING you couldn't do if you tried.  And I am not just saying that because I am your Mom.

One thing I love about you is your warm presence and superb manners.  You know all your classmates parents names and greet them everyday when they bring in and pick up thier children.  You say things like "It's nice to meet you", "May I have ____", "Please", "Thank you", "That means so much to me", "May I be excused?"....  all without prompting or reminding.  It makes me swell with pride to see your empathy and consideration for others... whether it's to make your brother laugh when he cries, or when you give me a big hug when I do.  Your heart is so open and loving to everyone you meet... I just pray no one ever takes advantage of that to the point you stop being that way.

And even as grown up as you are... you are still my baby.  I'll let you in on a secret...  as much as I fuss about you staying in your bed at night... I secretly love when you climb into bed with me and wrap your arm around me in the middle of the night.  Sometimes I wake up in my big lonely bed by myself and am kinda sad that you didn't come.  I know these days won't last forever, and I am trying to remember to cherish each and every cuddle.

When you are tired, sick or hurt and you come to me with your sad eyes, crying for "Mommy"... I am so blessed to be the person you always look for and need most.  Everyday I thank God for that feeling of joy and pride you give me.  I pray that he protects you and never lets you hurt anymore than you need to. 

Thank you for six amazing years being your Mommy, my sweet JennaBug.  Don't grow up too fast, as I am enjoying you so much right now.

Love,

Mommy

My friend sent this to me today.  It made me cry.

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This is for the  mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in
their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying,  'It's okay honey, Mommy's here' .  Who have sat in rocking
chairs for hours  on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.

This is for all  the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair
and milk stains  on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the  mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween
costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is  for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the
mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the  mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on
their refrigerator doors.

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on  metal bleachers at
football, hockey or soccer games instead of watching  from the warmth of
their cars, so that when their kids asked, 'Did you  see me, Mom?' they
could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for  the world,' and mean
it.

This is for all the mothers who yell  at their kids in the grocery store and
swat them in despair when they  stomp their feet and scream for ice cream
before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize
how child abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children  and explained
all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers  who wanted to, but
just couldn't find the words.

This is for all  the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.

For all the  mothers who read 'Goodnight, Moon' twice a night for a year.
And then  read it again. 'Just one more time.'

This is for all the mothers who  taught their children to tie their
shoelaces before they started school.  And for all the mothers who opted for
Velcro instead.

This is  for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their
daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice
calls 'Mom?' in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at
home -- or even away at  college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school  with
stomachaches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got  there, only
to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick
them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the
words to reach them.

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14 year
olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the
mothers of those who did the  shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their
TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and
now pray they come home safely from a  war.

What makes a good Mother anyway?

Is it patience?  Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook
dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time?

Or is it in her heart?  Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or
daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very
first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to
put your hand on the back of a sleeping  baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you  just want to
hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home?

Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear
news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young
mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home
mothers. Single mothers and married mothers.  Mothers with money, mothers
without

This is for you all. For  all of us.

Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can.  Tell them every
day that we love them. And pray.

Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.

'Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall.'

Please pass this to a wonderful mother you know.

(I just did)

If you send this to just one  person, it should make it all the way around
the world by Mother's Day.

Thanks Grace for turning me onto this site for the video!

My first baby was born six years ago tomorrow.  I plan to write her a letter later today... so keep posted.  For now, enjoy the pictures in her honor.

Those of you with babies/toddlers now... realize how quickly it goes by and cherish each moment.

Those with grown children... don't remind me... I really do know.  Where is the pause button?

Every night I battle with my children about going to bed and staying in bed. 

Most night Jenna goes willingly and Nate is the one I fight with to go down...  however Jenna gets up in the middle of the night and ends up in my bed, whereas Nate stays put all night (ONCE I finally get him to sleep).

The last couple of nights have been no different.  Last night however, Nate stayed in his bed.  I was shocked.  At one point I thought I heard some rustling around in their room, but decided that it was okay, as long as they were staying in their room and eventually settled down.

At about 1 am, I finally headed to bed.  I check in on Jenna and pulled the sheet up on her.  She's in the bottom bunk.  Then I climbed the ladder a bit to check on Nate.

There laid my little boy... sleeply soundly... in his sister's pink dance leotard, pink lace tu-tu and pink satin ballet slippers.

Sigh.

What is wrong with this kid?  LMAO.

I did take this picture yesterday... but I forgot to post it.

Mom of a six year old tomorrow... who would have thunk it?

A little bit retro

• >Ü< CareaBearaSara >Ü<
• Lori
• Bill Bartlett
• Roboco
• ♥Lady M♥
• Samantha
  

Show us your favorite tool.
Submitted by Maraschino.

It's in my bedside drawer... I can't show you right now.  (wink)

Calling all food voyeurs: Show us what's in your fridge or cupboard.
Submitted by Kadeeae.

J had the right idea... I'll show you my desk drawer instead... that's where I have my food at the office anyways. 

My Desk Drawer

Yes, it's neat, because the rest of my desk isn't and I rarely use anything in this drawer... as everything I need is scattered on my desk.  What we have --- stamps, super glue, staples, staple removers, bulletin board pins, butter, bandaids, hydroxycut (right next to the girl scout thin mint cookies, where they belong), vitamins, paperclips, Arby's sauce (GOD that stuff is good), and rolodex inserts.  Also matches from my two favorite restaurants (neither of which are in Dallas - Old Ebbitt Grill and Tommy Bahamas), along with my Staples Tax Exempt Card and some post-it note refills.  Oh and my glasses, that I should actually be wearing, no wonder I have a headache right now.

peesh-out

Remember these?

I left them floating in the bowls and dying over the weekend while I was out of town.  Dumped them on Monday.

Now my home is infected with nats.  Help!  How do you get rid of them? 

I wasn't too upset, until they started attacking my glass of wine last night.  Nats floating in wine ruins the relaxing mood I was going for.  Sigh.