Just a little comparison

2009 Dance Recital



2013 Dance Recital

Yeah, 4 years.

It goes fast people, FAST.  And they grow.  Boy do they grow.  No matter how hard you plead for them not to. 

I've been reading some old blog posts and realizing how much chattier I used to be, and how many more comments I used to get.   The blog world certainly is different now.  Facebook has taken over and eaten all of our desire to write complete sentences.  Some are still valiant bloggers (ick, what a horrible word).  To you, high praise.

Corrie, if I'm back - that means you're back too my dear.  Move it. 

Ready to Roll

Mrs. Humpty Dumpty is what I call myself. I look like I could just roll my way into the hospital. And today, I'll do just that - course I'll actually be walking, but I COULD roll if somebody gave me a good push.


Last night reading with my THREE littles. All of them will look bigger once the new baby is here, and the idea of BIG littles is something I don't do super well with.

I'm looking for a pickle jar once again. Dad, how come you never figured out how to make that work?

luvs to all

I'm Just Gonna Miss Her

When she grows.

It's too hard.

I'm really HONESTLY not dealing with this well. I never have.

Tonight at dinner Capri buoyantly said there are only six days left of school (Headstart). I nearly lost it, tear wise.

Not because I don't want Capri and Rome around.

But because it means only six more days of just me and my baby Sable in the morning. Only six more days of lunch together, outings, waiting for the bus and her EXTREME joy when it comes.

I struggle with this kind of change. Kid change, kid growth, it's physically painful for me.

I know it seems stupid. You're saying, all the stages and ages are fun.

Or what Jeff said tonight, "At least you got it for a short while. That's better than not at all."

I know it.

I just miss them so much as they grow. Because the little thing that was before you, is gone. It's changed. It's for the good. It's for THEIR good. But it kills ME. I just can't let go very easily of their "now-hood".

I WANT them to be independent. I try hard to teach them so. I don't want them to NEED me.

The thing is, I need them.





I'm going to miss every minute of this when it's over. Even the fit that erupted just minutes after this last picture was taken. Yep, I'll miss that too.

Still Looking

**NOTE**

I just want to clarify, I'm not at ALL saying that I don't like my kids once they're not babies anymore!
Goodness sakes.
Yes, I am a self admitted baby addict. But I love my littles every single day just the same as the day before.
No wait. . .more.

__________________________________________________________

I know I've said it before.

But sheesh.

Why do they have to grow at all??

I just. . . miss them.

I miss the babyhood.

I miss the squeaky giggles, the squishy cheeks, the round tummies, and the bright eyes at everything cause it's ALL new.

The other day in the car Capri asked me how babies were made. She's asked this before, but this time she really wanted to know the WAY.

I believe in telling the truth, and just giving the facts.

But she's 5.

"Remember sweetie?" I said, "Babies are made by a mommy and daddy who come together in love."

"But Mommy, HOW do they MAKE them??"

Usually I'm not one for panic. In emergency situations I actually get calmer. I feel my "survival" mode click on.

I almost panicked.

Luckily she got distracted suddenly.

I was saved.

However, Capri does NOT forget about things. Like the "pig blanket" that my Mom is supposed to be making for her, but hasn't finished because of a yarn color problem. That's right Mom, she asked about it the other day.

Next time I might not be so lucky.

And I'll say. . .

WANTED: Extra Large Pickle Jar

I've been having some pickle jar moments lately. Again, my kiddos aren't listening, they're growing up against my wishes.

Capri, who's wanted to be big since she was a baby, is really actually starting to get big - in more ways than just size. Her attitude is changing, she's growing out of the fits (good) and growing out of her little girl ways (bad). She still loves princesses but seems to talk more and more of being a "rockin' star". She's aware of her body, and doesn't want people to see her undress - even Daddy. This one threw both me and Jeff. I could SEE both of our hearts breaking a bit when she said, "Daddy don't look, I'm changing."

Rome is getting bigger too. He's still Rome, one of the nicest kids you'll meet. But he's testing the boundries, he's fighting the power more. He's realizing that he has his own voice.

And then there's Sable. She's the guiltiest. If I had a pickle jar big enough I'd smush her into it right now. I can't quite pinpoint it. It's more of a look on her face. It's coming - my baby is leaving me. She'll be a kid soon. She'll be talking, her hair will finally grow, she'll be tall enough to climb in the playplace at McDonald's. She'll turn 2. And my heart will be broken completely.

As a stay at home mom I know I'm lucky. I've squeezed nearly every possible moment of my kid's littlehood out for my own personal joy. I've gotten to experience it all, but it's NEVER enough. I never feel satisfied.
If it wasn't for this stupid, weak, malformed body of mine I'd probably end up having a dozen babies. And when it was over, when my body finally said "no more for you", I'd still cry. But my body IS stupid and weak and I doubt it could endure more than 4 c-sections. My grandma had five, but she's one tough broad.

So knowing that I can probably only endure four of the dreaded "c's" that means I've only got one left. ONE. And that thought leaves me sadder and more fearful of my kids growing than ever. It makes me want to put it off - wait, wait, wait to have the next. This makes my parents happy, it makes Jeff sad and leaves me in the middle. Numb at the thought of being DONE.

To top it all off, the odds are pretty darn high that I'll be completely done having kids before any of my brothers are even married. That makes me sick. Again I'll be left at the top. When they are all jointly sharing in that joy, I'll just be the old lady. All my future sisters-in-law will be giddy and joyful and friends, and then there will be me - the OLDER sister. Not really a sister at all. Yet again.

It stinks and I hate it. But as far as I can figure so far, there's nothing I can do about. If only I can find that extra large pickle jar. . .if only.

Put Her in a Pickle Jar

The day before yesterday I found a tiny sliver of a tooth in Sable's bottom gum. Darn it.
I knew it was coming, I mean she's been so slobbery that she could easily have filled a small wading pool by now. And she's been smacking her gums like an 85 year old whose dentures have come loose for weeks.
But still. . . I was wishing and hoping that just one of my children would obey and NOT grow up so fast.
To make it worse, last night Sable slept in her crib in Capri's (now Sable and Capri's) room. Till last night she's slept right beside me in a bassinet. I really didn't mean for her to stay in the bassinet for so long, 7 months to be exact. Rome and Capri never did, but I didn't want to put a tiny baby in with an older kid and have them wake each other up. Plus, I knew it would be much easier for me to have her close.
So yesterday, even though I didn't want to, I finally cleared all the clutter that had accumulated in Sable's crib so she could sleep in it (which by the way has been set up since before she was born). Jeff has been nagging me to do this for months now. Well not really nagging, that's not Jeff's style. He more would just softly mention it, over and over. Kind of like the tiny, persistant ladybugs we so often find in the house. It doesn't really bother you, you don't want to smash it, but it keeps on showing up in your living room. Until one day, you finally go and get a dixie cup and put it outside.
Usually at night, after we put Rome and Capri to bed. I go back to the couch and feed Sable. She falls asleep and I put her in her boppy, where she stays until I finally decide to go to bed myself and put her in her bassinet. But last night after I fed Sable, smelled her, and kissed her, I laid her in her own big crib and went back to sit on the couch and watch tv alone.
Even writing this now I feel the same knot in the back of my throat and the tiny tears at the corners of my eyes I felt last night. I missed her. I missed her next to me on the couch, and I missed her next to me in her bassinet. She was really only 25 feet away, but I felt like she was in a whole other world. And in a way, she was.
And, of course, she was happy in that world. Comfy, with lots more space she slept through the night and stayed asleep even after Capri got up in the morning. I on the other hand, found it VERY hard to fall asleep and laid awake for quite a while thinking, thinking, thinking.
With every baby, I know those kinds of moments are coming and I DREAD them. I always tell Jeff how much I will miss each one once they are big. And I do. I miss them each so much it hurts right down to my toes.
Last night, as I have times before when these moments hit, I thought about my own dad and what he used to say when my brothers and I were growing up. He'd say, "I wish I could put you in a pickle jar, and STOP you from getting bigger." Dad, I wish that too. So much. So much.