Me & My Buddy

Being a momma of two is hard work. When you first bring home baby number two you’re overwhelmed, sleep deprived and guilt ridden. Let me tell you ladies…that’s nothing. Enjoy that time when your second baby closely resembles a lump and kind family and neighbors offer casseroles and baby holding. It’s short lived.

Fast forward 15 months. That squishy baby is now a climbing, running, screaming, demanding little person who will not settle for anything less than your full attention.

I’ve been feeling like I’m treading water trying to keep up with both of their needs. Hazel wants to play a game but Rose wants to throw the game pieces across the room. Valid activities due to their ages but it leaves me lost. Do I try to play with Hazel while blocking Rose’s participation (demolition) or do I deny Hazel the attention and try to captivate Rose with another activity. It’s a lose lose.

As these situations build I end up feeling like a less than adequate momma. I wish this next paragraph would provide you with an insightful solution as you watch me ride out into the sunset…but sadly, I’m still learning, and fumbling, and welcoming suggestions. For now I’m going for a little extra one on one time.

Hazel  has dance class on Fridays. When possible I leave Rose at home for some daddy time and focus on Hazel. We both get excited for our adventure. Several times on our way she says “Hazel & Mommy time right?” That’s right sister, you earned it.

As soon as I get Paisley down for a nap Hazel looks at me “Hi Ho Cherry O?” We scramble to find the game, lay out the pieces and start filling our buckets. Sister always wins. Always.

When I was pregnant with Rose I worried about how a second child would fit in a world I believed revolved around Hazel. But as all mommies learn, when that second baby is born your heart grows.

On the days Hazel has pre-school R and I head out on little adventures. Story times, shopping and now our first music class. It feels great to give her this one on one time.

And when Hazel is ready for bed at 6:30 on a school night Miss R has a little life left in her. She usually gets to spend it cuddling up with both Will and I, cause really, when else does that happen.

It’s the little things. Ho Ho Cherry O!

 

Vampire Baby

It happened fast. Probably because we weren’t expecting it. My friends and I have grown accustomed to visiting with each other while our kids play nearby. They don’t need constant supervision so if we have a visual on them we’re good.

All of a sudden tiny little 6 month old Liz screams from her jumperoo. Not the, “I just soiled my diaper so hurry on over and clean me up” cry, or the “you’re not paying attention to me and I’m hungry” cry. It was the “I’m in pain…help” cry that will send shivers down the spine of every mother in the room.

And what should we find when we turn around but baby vampire Rose sinking her teeth into baby Liz’s cheek. Rose stopped when we all looked at her but the teeth marks in Liz’s cheek were epic. There was no blood, no broken skin but those marks were so deep I was immediately both shocked and mortified.

My baby’s a biter. It didn’t matter that she was cutting four molars. My 14 month old toddler had just bit her friend. She’s a biter.

I’m the mom that shields my baby’s from the biter, pusher, and toy swiper. I nod forgiveness when a child acts physically towards my kids. But today I am the mom of a biter. Other moms will keep a close eye on my little biter to ensure their children are safe and had Liz’s mom not been a dear friend and second time mom I’d probably be knocked off her phone list.

I suppose part of being a Mom is having to deal with a few embarrassing characteristics in your children now and then. My eyes have been opened and I have an apology to give. 

Dear Momma’s,

I’m so sorry I judged you after your child (bit, hit, pushed, kicked, stole from) my child. I’m sorry I felt thankful that my child wasn’t a (biter, hitter, pusher, kicker, stealer).

Don’t worry. I got mine.

Love,

The Vampire baby’s Momma

xo

Not My Day…

One thing I’ve grown to love about being a Momma is the gift of a new day. No matter what happened today we’re all going to wake up tomorrow smiling, cuddling and promising to listen, to be patient and kind.

Thank goodness for the new day.

Today is Sunday. We woke up…watched far more Diego then I had hoped to see in my entire life, ate breakfast in front of the show and reveled in our lazy day.

Breakfast was healthy, Hazel wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulders while they watched and Hazel responded to all of Diego’s promts with a boisterous (and correct) answer and my heart swelled.

But as quickly as boo boos mend and attentions divert the day went south.

Hazel insisted on wearing a tutu when she finally agreed to get dressed. Her ensemble was mostly adorable until while I was trying to get Rose down for a nap our cat decided the tutu was a new toy. Hazels cries for help rang through the second floor and Rose’s eyes popped open after 5 minutes of rest.

Now with two tired girls and a frustrated Mommy I stumbled through the rest of the day. While Hazel ate an enormous lunch I watched Rose hand her pb & j to the grateful dog under the table. I agreed to play Yahtzee Jr. without realizing the pieces had been strewn across the room earlier. Then in a last ditch effort I offered to take a drive to get Hazel a new winter hat only to realize the store wasn’t open on Sunday…commence come apart.

Then back at home the winds changed in my favor and Rose fell asleep in my arms. I transferred her to bed and gave Hazel that attention she missed out on earlier, made a dinner they loved and watched them cheer when Daddy walked in the door.

Now the girls are both asleep…the house is quiet except for the methodic rhythm of their white noise machine and I am sitting her feeling blessed and thankful.

Thankful for my family, and for tomorrow…another chance to be the Momma I want to be.

 

The Momma Dance

I used to be a waitress. I was really good at it. Perfectly mixing the friendly banter with spot on memory and seamless transitions. I loved every minute of it and waited tables long after I had landed a ‘real’ job and it was no longer financially necessary.

I had a brief go at bartending…but the penalty box feel of the bar was not for me. I liked to move. Dance from table to table while juggling beverages, condiments and buffalo wings.

Today, my daily mom duties often bring me back to those days…but not with ease I was once so fond of. Now I trip over a tiny wooden chair and step directly on a plastic tea cup while trying to fill sippy cups without burning the grilled cheese sizzling on the stove.

My memory that used to dazzle patrons is now clouded with to-do lists and diaper changes. My knowledge of fine food and wines has been replaced with nitrate free hot dog brands, half-caf coffee and which plastic stopper goes in each sippy cup.

Life certainly isn’t the same as it once was. My day is filled with bumps and tumbles and it’s not unusual for me to realize at the end of the day that I forgot to brush my hair…or my teeth.

Today Hazel was playing in her dollhouse. I overheard bits and pieces of her narrative….a mom taking care of her daughter. Showering the love and attention with brief breaks from time to time to go check an email or call Auntie Leah.

It takes my breath away when I see how much she loves me. I’m her hero. She wants to do things how I do them, she plays in my closet and tries on my shoes, picks clothes she thinks match mine. I dazzle her with my memory for how she likes her waffles cut, how I refill her ketchup pile before she asks and know just how she likes her hot chocolate.

I watched her, feeling my eyes get a little misty until I realized the nitrate-free hot dogs were burning and the dogs were crying at the door to go outside. Bugger.