And we stifle our laughs...

Ian is at this hilarious age. I feel like everything he says or does is funny. Even if it's wrong, naughty or inappropriate. In these instances we deliver the solemn faced punishment, advise him of our disappointment and then run with our hands over our mouths into the other room to laugh in private.

We went through a two month period where each and every day I picked him up from school, I would wait for the teacher to pull me aside. I'd see a note jotted on the sign in sheet. 'SEE TEACHER', it would say. I'd tip my head back, roll my eyes and like a kid in trouble would sulk to the teacher and ask, 'what this time?'

Usually it was in regards to his 'potty words'. What is it about boys and these 'no-no' words? I DO NOT KNOW. We don't talk like that in our house. At least not in front of the kids and from a young age we worked to instill the words we wanted them to use that were of our liking. But of course, there is JUST so much you can control about a 3 year old. The final straw was when Ian received a stronger course of action at school for swatting another boy on the rear in the restroom. Now to me, this is just part of being a boy? I mean, he's just advanced, right? Isn't that what happens in the boys locker room? On the football field? Regardless, he rec'd weeks of solitary bathroom use and could not enter the boys restroom unless alone.

As I'd buckle him in the car each day and dole out the punishment for the night (usually something taken from him, (the privilege to drive his electric car, his favorite toy, or the after dinner t.v. show) he would pout his lip, cross his arms and one day he exclaimed, 'I hate you'.

I gasped. I retracted from him shaking my head in disappointment. My 3 year old son hated me.

I remember as a kid the word, 'hate' not being allowed in our house. Low and behold, we are fighting the same battles in our 4 and now 6 year old. Alex started it, surely picking up the word from school and when frustrated, mad, or what have you would scream, 'I hate myself!'. This of course was hilarious to us as, I think she really meant to say, 'I hate this' or that or the situation, maybe even 'I hate you'. Regardless, 'I hate myself' would send us sneaking out of the room to hide our grins. It was time for an intervention.

We buckled down alongside the teachers, working together to nip this problem in the bud and I'm happy to say that after a week or two of swift and diligent consequences for his actions he was on the up and up.

One Friday, after 5 whole days without a timeout or 'potty word' at school I buckled Ian in his car seat, I told him how proud I was of him. I said, 'this deserves a reward with a dinner out!' His response, 'Ah Mom. Thanks! I don't hate you anymore!' After dinner, the kids got to choose a 'shot' of dessert of their choice. These are adorable, tiny sized desserts that fit in a double shot glass. Perfect size, perfect price for our perfectly behaved, non potty word saying angel boy.

I watched Ian finish his dessert with pride, and smiled as he put the last bite into his mouth. We did it! We were cocky in our parenting skills as we glanced around at the Mis-behaving kids in our midst. All it takes is consistency and dedication! Ian then dropped the spoon into the empty shot glass and shouted, 'Butt hole!'. And with that, he was whisked from his chair and taken to the car with a full belly of chocolate lava cake and a smile on his face.

He's also smart as a whip. Our bedtime routine usually goes something like this: He'll bat his eyes, snuggle up to me and sing me a little song. He says 'Mom, did you hear that? I sang you a song and I'm giving it to you. Giving it to your heart.'

I thank him, kiss him, snuggled him and can't let go.

Then he says, 'So...Can I have another story?'

Some of you may remember this post. Not much has changed since these early days of getting Ian to sleep in a 'big boy bed'. We have ourselves a night owl with this one and luckily he stays in his room for the most part talking, singing, quietly playing with intermittent shouts that send us cracking up downstairs. Each evening as we head upstairs to bed we each stop into each of the kids room to fix their covers, kiss them goodnight, and most importantly see what predicament Ian fell asleep in.

He is notoriously in a funny position, toys strewn about, bed completely torn apart, and as of late, resting high on a tower of pillows like the 'prince and the pea'. He pulls the backrest from the mini-couch in his room, stacks on that his pillow, on top of that his pillow pet, on top of that HIM like a king on his thrown. All the blankets (and there are many) piled on top of him. With a gentle push, he rolls from his tower and settles nicely on his bed and I have to use all my willpower not to giggle out loud and wake him.

I never know what each day will bring with this child. Whether it's a head injury, a giant kitchen spill, a stern talk with his teacher, or a stifled laugh. I will say (and I'm going to use a forbidden word here), I hate to imagine a day without him. Good behavior or bad behavior if you can laugh through parenthood, and the ups and downs of it I think you're doing alright.

On May 19th, 2005 at 4:39 pm, Sean and I welcomed a little girl into the world. She weighed 8 lbs, 3 oz and was 21.5 inches long. We named her Alexandra Reese and today, that little girl turned six.

I didn't keep this blog when she was born, but if I had I would have surely written a novel on that day. I would have in way too many words expressed my awe, my wonderment, and my pure fear in how I would take care of this infant I knew nothing of.

I remember looking at my mom on the day she was born eyes wide, body still feeling the trauma of child birth, tears streaming down my face from both pain and joy and saying, 'Mom, I think I got a fussy one'.

My mom laughed at my instant judgment of the 'wee ones' personality. She didn't know that weeks later, she would admit I was right after we suffered 2 months of agonizing colic.

Each day since, (and I do mean when the colic finally ended) I have fallen more in love with this girl than I knew possible. The way in which she has matured each year has blown me away. She has an incredible personality and spunk and a sense of humor her Momma is so proud of! This year, she went to Kindergarten and lost her first teeth. She made new friends and wowed us on the soccer field. She cares for and loves her brother and shows him only in his most vulnerable moments. She always makes sure he 'knows his role', and that 'she is the alpha sibling' but is always the first to run to his rescue, help him up if he falls, and grab an extra snack on her way through the kitchen.

The older she gets the more I see myself in her. Not just in how she looks as I was a spitting image of her at this age but in her personality. In all honestly, this is good and bad. She's warm, caring, and respectful. She always wants to do good, and be appreciated. On the other hand I'm learning (as myself) she's a bit of a glass half empty girl. This is a character trait I have battled with honestly for several years after many years spent resenting the label. This last weekend, after a fun-filled day at the balloon festival complete with rides, and an elephant ear, Alex cried incessantly in the bath that night screaming, 'this was the worst day of my life'. All because we ran out of tickets and she did not get to go 'fishing' to win a prize. I sat back, hands lathered in her shampoo and like a freight train was hit with the realization of the battles I used to have with my parents.

I've since called my mom and apologized AGAIN as I've done several times over the years for my childhood behavior.

I like to associate being a 'half glass full girl' with just wanting to do and be everything at 100%. When that doesn't happen her and I both get frustrated and discouraged and instead of focusing on what we did do and accomplish, we focus on what we didn't or wanted to. I hope that as I have over the years learned to recognized this and improve upon it that one day she will too. She has a lot to learn from me good and bad, fortunately and unfortunately.

Like me, Alex is an emotional being. Yes, this means that she may over-react, appear 'dramatic' and blow little problems out of proportion. This also means, she sometimes cares more than she should. She is empathetic and caring and a worrier. She can, without words, make my day brighter with a hug she can sense I need.

Alex is smart as a whip just like her dad, and has a photographic memory of sorts. She remembers times and locations and events and is often asking me, 'Hey mom-remember when I was three and....' She blows my mind with her love to learn, write and read.

For her sixth birthday, we had an 'at home party' with a small group of TWELVE kids. This was after she narrowed her list down from 20. Being a social butterfly has it's drawbacks! We converted our garage into an art studio and I do believe she had a blast.

I can't believe how quickly time flies. I can't believe that 6 years have passed. I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. I remember our first car ride home where we kept looking into the backseat and then to each other shaking our heads in amazement. I remember her first words, and her first steps. I remember the first time I hauled her kicking and screaming from the grocery store. I remember everything yet it feels like such a blur.

My wish for Alex on her sixth birthday is that one day, when she reads this blog she understands even a tiny fraction of how much love her dad and I have for her. That she knows how deeply she's blessed our lives, and how all her traits are so loved and appreciated.

Happy Happy Birthday to my sweet Alexandra Reese, may your next year be as great as the last!

I put my hands up, they're playing my song. The butterflies fly away. I'm nodding my head like Yeah...(but really I'm just going crazy)

I find it necessary to start this post with something positive. Let's say I recognize a few things I love and we call it good to even out the imminent negative documentation of my arrival home yesterday? I say that's fair.

Hmmm. Let me think.

I love how Ian on many recent occasions pops in on me while I'm getting ready, snuggles up to me on the couch, or as is common these days hops into bed for a good morning spoon and says, 'Hey Mom, watcha doin this weekend?' As if he's just about to ask me out on a date.

I love finding him at 11:30 at night standing at the toilet, head back, arms to his side relieving himself half asleep having un zipped his Jammie's but having failed to pull down the undies.

I love asking him where he got a little bruise on his bum and having him promptly reply that he got it from 'America'.

I also love how Alex refuses to yank out the dangling front tooth that has been hanging by a teeny tiny thread for weeks now. I love how she refuses even though it inhibits all the food she can eat, and affects her speech which she enunciates by talking very matter of factly.

I love watching her at her birthday party with all her new school friends and seeing her smile that the day is all about her.

I love all my new plants I potted last weekend in a feverish fury to start the process of transforming our yard from it's winter induced mess to lovely summer status.

There. Moving on, let's get down to the nitty gritty.

Yesterday was otherwise a typical day. I say typical and mean it was just as long and tiring. It started just as early. Work was just as gruesome and stressful and like most days of late I received a text from Sean that said, 'I'll be home late'.

Super.

So to make things 'easy on me' I did the responsible and health conscious thing and stopped at McDonalds to treat the kids to a happy meal because a)I had a gift card and b)Ian made it another day without ending up in the timeout corner for saying 'potty words'. These days, that's cause for celebration.

We pulled into the driveway and Alex starts hollering from the back. I turn my head and she has opened her apple dippers caramel and it has proceeded to find itself on her raincoat, her lap, the wall of the car door and is smeared up the window. I tell her to hurry up and get inside I'll clean it up (which I wonder why bother my car is a cess pool of food shmears and litter).

Usually when I approach the door to the house I can hear the squeals of the dog as he impatiently awaits our arrival. But, silence. When I stepped inside I arrived to a scene that caused me to drop the McDonalds sacks, my purse, the kids backpacks, a stack of mail that has been littering my car, and 4 coats from the back seat I've been looking for. And that's when the screaming started. Chip, our neurotic and anxiety ridden shelter dog relieved his freakish self's emotional instability by demolishing all items from Alex's dress up basket, two pair of sunglasses, a puzzle, her brand new dry board eraser (hence the shrieks) amongst many other random items. He flung pillows around the living room, drug blankets around the house, moved his dog bed from one room to another and there were SHOES everywhere. Un-chewed, thank god.

Chip meanwhile was hovering (head down in shame) by the back door knowing he was in deep doo doo.

The Kids WERE LIVID. And there are not words to describe my feelings on the matter.

I threw my hands up, put them on my head, spun in a circle and otherwise had a silent emotional breakdown and went into hyper freak out mode. I'd like to think that if you're a mother (or father) and whether you work full time and struggle to juggle all the responsibilities of life in too few hours, OR if you stay home with little people all day and you tell me you don't have these moments where you pray to god someone will just have you committed. I think you're lying.

I took a moment to pull myself together and decided there was just one thing to do. I started cleaning. I picked up the shredded items and walked them over to the trash and my mind starts spinning again. It was like a scene from a lifetime movie where the videography slows down and pauses on specific items to show drama? All I saw was dishes strewn about the counter, a sink full of dirty dishes, a dishwasher flashing that it was ready to be unloaded, syrup was hardened and crusted to the kitchen table from the kids breakfast, and in the middle of the hall were Ian's urine ridden sheets I forgot to put in the wash before I left for work.

When Sean got home he did what any husband of a woman on the verge of a mental breakdown would do and silently started helping to bring our life into some state of livability, just after taking the dog out for a good and proper scolding of course.

From there things turned more 'typical' in nature and after a 'beer mug' sized glass of wine, and some Dreyers chocoloate chip mint ice cream my blood pressure returned to normal, the multiple personalities went back to their homes and Chip got to come back inside.

It was a typical Wednesday night...

I'm sitting here at my desk chuckling and I cannot stop. Every few minutes the mental image of what I witnessed last night flashes in front of my eyes, blocks the dual monitors I work from and makes me giggle out loud.

It was a typical Wednesday night, I was on my own for bedtime as Sean has committee meetings. I was dragging myself through the motions, checking the clock and wondering if it was acceptable for me to go to bed at 8:15.

It's no secret that Alex has what we call, 'emotions'. She's got a temper and at times we find ourselves leaving a room to let her work out her frustrations, to scream ridiculously, or pitch whatever fit she feels necessary to deal with her baggy pant leg, her itchy shirt, or the fact that she left her 'shiny' (sleep blanket) down in the laundry room.

It was one of those nights, emotions mixed with a dose of crazy from some early Easter Candy had her bouncing around on her bed as I tried to tuck her in. I gave up, told her I'd come back in a few minutes after she calmed down and headed to the storage closet to pull out the easter basket she needed for school the next day.

It was when I was deep in the closet and had crawled over suitcases, wrapping paper containers and several bins of tiny baby clothes that I heard the screaming. It was a blood curdling scream which is not unusual when she is REALLY MAD at her untied shoelace or otherwise so I didn't panic.

I took my time gathering what I needed, I even took a few seconds to scoot the suitcases out of the way and slowly crawled out wondering if we ever move out of this house if I could just leave all this stuff here.

The screams continued and I leisurely walked down the hall, head back, eyes rolling wondering if I was ever going to be able to sit down in peace this evening.

I turned the corner into her room and had to stifle with EVERY bit of strength I had from laughing out loud as I found Alex dangling upside down from the foot board of her bed. Her feet were in the air, she was hanging by one arm grasping onto her antique iron bed frame with a look of fear on her face that SHE JUST MIGHT FALL 4 INCHES TO THE FLOOR was priceless.

I lifted her up and asked what happened and she frantically told me her tale that she wasn't jumping around crazily but organizing her pillows. And she somehow, rather than flinging herself off the bed, was SHOT off the bed by the force of nature that is her 'shiny' as she tried to cover herself with it. I nodded, told her I was sorry for what happened and covered her up and left the room and laughed and I have not stopped.

For all the drama we deal with as parents, and for the long nights trying to get them into bed I've learned that sometimes we are returned with just a tiny karmic gift. And next time I find myself exhausted, and frustrated because she has to go to the bathroom for the 3rd time, or needs another drink of water, I am going to remember this moment of her dangling, panic stricken, upside down, by one arm, looking at me as if I am the one person that can save her from death and I'll get through it.

The Tooth Fairy paid us a visit...

Yesterday morning on the way to work, I missed a phone call. Whether I was still half asleep or the radio was so loud I didn't hear it, it wasn't until I pulled into the parking lot at work that I saw 'missed call - home'.

Of course I panic, I wonder if I forgot something like my computer which I frequently do. Or maybe, one of the kids is sick and Sean needs me to turn around and come home, or maybe Alex's library book is missing and she won't go to the bus until she finds it.

Not this time. When I called back, Alex answered.

"Hi Mom, I lost my tooth"

I grinned ear to ear and cried a little. My baby girl lost her first tooth. I mean, it's no surprise the thing has been dangling by a thread for days but somehow that didn't make it any easier. It's a milestone I'll never get back with her, her smile will never be the same. Her tiny little straight teeth no longer. And again, like many of her firsts, I missed it.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm also afraid. Very afraid. Afraid, that what will come in from beneath her cute little baby teeth will be something similar to mine. Large, crooked, and bucked teeth that took years and years of my parents time and hard earned money to give me the straight toothed smile I have today. We've started college funds for the kids, but not until today did I think we maybe should have started braces funds as well.

As a result, last night was my first chance to play 'tooth fairy'. I took it very seriously. I made a special trip to the coffee cart in my building to break a $10 bill. After the kids went to bed I wrote out on special paper a note from the tooth fairy complete with scalloped cut edges, and a fairy sticker. After a lengthy argument with Sean regarding the $5 (he wanted to trade it out with a buck and I sternly objected and argued that inflation is real and and important consideration) I placed the note with the $5 bill under my sleeping princesses pillow and tip toed out.

This morning she came running into our room to say, "Mom, the tooth fairy came. She used my craft paper and my special scissors and stole one of my stickers. Are you sure she didn't get the $5 out of your purse?"

And like so many things I try so hard to do 110%, I may have blown the tooth fairy's cover on the first lost tooth of my first born child.

Earthquake Preparedness: 101

Yesterday, at my quarterly work meeting I had the incredible honor and privilege of hearing a co-worker who endured and survived the recent Japan earthquake speak.

It was riveting to say the least. To hear his story, and what he went through was life changing. For him to recount the excruciatingly long 5+ minutes he endured on the 30th floor of an office building was heart wrenching. 'I reached for my phone from under the table, but could not type', 'The buildings were swaying and in opposite directions', 'I thought this was the end', 'Millions of people in the streets with nowhere to go', 'people stuck and terrified in the monorails'.

It's hard to imagine from way over here the true devastation. We watch news clips and we pray that the destruction will stop. We hope that people eventually reach their loved ones that are still missing. We feel helpless. We feel grateful it's not us and fear that someday it will be.

There is no denying that Portland and the rest of the west coast is at risk for such a catastrophic event and in times like this when I have no other way to help I write.

Over the course of the week I've listened to various news and radio programs, I've read blogs on earthquake safety and preparedness. I heard a co-worker explain what got him through and so I've decided to write down my findings first and foremost to organize the items I plan to gather together but also in hopes that my friends and family may find it helpful and god forbid we ever find ourselves in this horrific situation we are prepared, as best we can be. If nothing else, It just makes me feel better to know I've done what I can.

Before an Earthquake

1. I think the biggest fear people have (or at least mine) is to be at work and away from their children. Or, to not be able to reach friends and family. My co-worker that spoke explained that he was neither able to text or phone his wife for some time. However, he was able to Facebook and Twitter to his loved ones. He used this means for days to communicate. So if you currently boo the social network, use this as a reason to at least sign up in case you need it as a form of communication. It is recommended that your family identify an out of state contact to reach and keep tabs on everyone as it is easier to call out on external lines than local ones. Also, identify a meeting place if your family lives close.

2. Most of us plug our phones into electric wall chargers. In an earthquake, the power may go out so look into battery packs and external charges for your cell phone or computers.

3. Generators can be used to temporarily restore electricity to your home. They are fairly inexpensive for a smaller one and could prove useful for any natural disaster.

4. Bolt down and secure heavy objects in your house. This includes water heaters, refrigerators, furnaces, and gas appliances. Fasten shelves, bookcases, mirrors, and brace high and top heavy objects such as armoire's to wall studs.

5. Locate and identify safe spots in each of the rooms in your home. For those that have children include them in this process. Safe spots include under heavy tables or against an inside wall, and away from windows.

6. Store at least 3 days of food and water for your family. 2 quarts of water per day per person. Children, nursing mothers, and the elderly may need more. Change this water supply every 6 months. Keep liquid bleach on hand to kill micro-organisms if you have to use untreated or contaminated water. 16 drops per 1 gallon of water and let stand for 30 minutes. Ready to eat canned meats, fruits, vegetables, high energy foods such as peanut butter, jelly, crackers, granola bars, trail mix; foods that will not increase thirst. Vitamins, foods for infants and elderly with special dietary needs. Comfort/Stress foods: cookies, hard candy, sweetened cereals, lollipops, instant coffee, tea bags. Pet Food, at least one ounce per animal pound per day. Avoid foods like rice, pasta and dry beans that require a great deal of water and remember to restock your food once a year.

7. Ensure you have a collection of medical supplies: sterile bandages, safety pins, cleansing agent (soap) latex globes, sunscreen, gauze pads. Non prescription drugs such as pain relievers, Antacid, Syrup of Ipecac (used to induce vomiting), scissors, tweezers, needle, moistened towelettes, antiseptic, thermometer, and tube of petroleum jelly.

8. Supplies to keep on hand: paper cups, plastic plates and utensils. Battery operated radio and batters, cash or travelers checks in case banks are closed, non electric can opener or utility knife, fire extinguisher, pliers, tape (duct tape actually keeps toxins out of your home), matches in waterproof container, aluminum foil, signal flair, paper/pencil, needles/thread, medicine dropper and a wrench to turn off gas and water.

9. Have sturdy shoes or work boots, rain gear, blankets and sleeping bags and warm clothing on hand.

10. Make sure all critical documents including will, insurance policies, contracts, deeds, stocks and bonds, passports, social security cards, immunization records, bank account numbers and family records such as (birth, marriage, death certificates) are in a central location if not kept in a safe.

During an Earthquake

1. If indoors, take cover under a sturdy desk, table, or bench or against an inside wall. Stay away from glass, windows, outside doors and walls or anything that can fall such as light fixtures or furniture. If in bed, stay there and protect your head with a pillow. Use a doorway for shelter only if it is in close proximity. Stay inside until shaking stops and it is safe to go outside. Most injuries occur when people are hit by falling objects when entering or exiting a building. DO NOT USE ELEVATORS.

2. If outdoors, STAY THERE. Move away from buildings, streetlights, and utility wires.

3. If in a moving vehicle stop as quickly as safety permits and stay in vehicle. Avoid stopping near or under buildings, trees, overpasses and utility wires.

4. If trapped under debris, do not light a match. Do not move about or kick up dust. Cover your mouth with a handkerchief or clothing.

After an Earthquake

1. Be prepared for aftershocks.

2. Open cabinets cautiously and stay away from damaged areas.

3. Beware of tsunamis if you live in coastal areas.

I'm quite aware that this is a depressing and scary concept to grasp. Nothing sounds more depressing than spending time putting together disaster relief kits for your family. For me, I'm making this a priority to ensure that worst case we find ourselves in this position? I've done what I can to protect my children, my family and have communicated a plan with them in how to reach each other. Because the most important thing to me would be the peace of mind that my loved ones are safe, and alive.

I'm sending constant prayers to Japan and all the people there and hoping for an imminent stop to the continued devastation, every day, every hour, every minute.

7 years Ago

This not for the faint of heart or for those who have not yet had children; are still considering it, but have doubts.

It never ceases to amaze me how life can so quickly and abruptly change. My mom has told me several times in the last year that your life can COMPLETELY change in 7 years. If you look back 7 years, where did you live? Did you have a different job? Were you single where now you're not? Were you childless and now run ragged by little people?

Last week I had a day that made me roll my eyes, it made me shudder, it made me gag, and near the end when I thought I couldn't take anymore it made me laugh. Of course all of this occurred on the busiest day of my work month, it always does. Like clock work.

7 years ago, I may have woken up to the sound of my alarm clock. I'd hop in the shower, get ready for work, and head downstairs to gather my neatly packed lunch. The coffee would already be brewing because I would have started it the night before and set the timer. It would have taken me 3 minutes to get dressed as I'd have ironed and laid out my clothes the night before. Today, I wake up to a curly headed, bad breathed 3 1/2 year old standing at the edge of my bed who 'wants to go downshtairs and have cheerios'. On the way down, I find my other curly headed 5 year old perched on the toilet mumbling in her half asleep gibberish that she's out of toilet paper and she's so tired, 'can I wipe her?'.

7 years ago, I would have spent 2 hours on a Sunday doing our laundry. 2 maybe three loads including towels. Today, I spend practically my whole life running laundry for four. It's an EVERYDAY deal. If I'm not starting it, I'm changing it, or folding it or putting it away and regardless of all that there is always 3 full laundry baskets at the top of my stairs. So I wear the jeans I wore 2 days ago, and the sweater I think I wore Friday and hope nobody notices.

7 years ago, I would have kissed Sean goodbye, and said 'Have a good day'. We may have talked about our schedules for the day and I may have tidied up the house before leaving, ensuring that when I get home, it's just as I like it. Today, I don't directly say goodbye to Sean or talk to him at all because a)I'm late, and b)I've kissed two milk mustache ridden tiny humans and don't want to leave a mark. I do however overhear him explaining to Ian what a 'wedgie' is. 'It's kind of when your undies get stuck in your Heine', he says. 7 years ago, Sean would never EVER have used the words 'undies' or 'heine'. I trip over a trail of toy cars on the way out the door and shut the door to the train wreck that is my house and I'm off to work.

7 years ago, I would have driven to work in my fast and powerful Red Honda Prelude. The car would be glistening because I would have washed it over the weekend and vacuumed it out within the last month. I LOVED THAT CAR. Today, I drive in a FILTHY, rotten cheerio ridden, art project infested MDX (WHICH I LOVE) but let's face it. It's a minivan without the sliding doors. I throw my target bag filled with some (well thought out and planned) lunch items like Gogurts and string cheese onto the passenger seat, pull down the mirror to check my face and then I spend the next 20 minutes driving to work and wondering why I look so weird.

Halfway there it hits me. I've forgotten Mascara. On one of my eyes.

7 years ago, I would have worked late. Put in close to 10 hours because hey...Sean is in grad school and what else am I going to do? Today, I get a phone call at 2:30 that Ian is sick and has thrown up on his nap blanket. So I leave EARLY. I take him home and find the dog has thrown up in my hallway. 7 years ago I never had to clean up vomit.

7 years ago I'd go home and I can't for the life of me remember what I did. I may have, I don't know...RELAXED? Kicked my feet up? Taken a load off? I would probably make ONE healthful dinner for the two of us, watch a show or two and be in bed by 9. Today, I go home and start my second job of making 2 variations of dinner, wash other people's bodies, read books, organize homework, pack the kids lunch and sit down for the first time somewhere around 9.

Don't get me wrong. I love being a mom. I love my kids more than life, and if I could I would not go back to 7 years ago. Well, I take that back. Most Days I would not go back. But I do admit on days such as these I wonder how I got here. How in 7 years my standards, my life, and the cleanliness of which I live in has so drastically been compromised.

Sometimes I just laugh as I look back over the past 7 years. I think back to Sean and I planning our family and what we thought that would mean for us. We never imagined our kids would break our noses and give us black eyes. We never thought we'd be patching walls from slamming doors and settle for hot dogs and mac and cheese on a Saturday night. You would never imagine that the times in which you work best together or support each other would be when your kids are sick and throwing up all over the place. I mean, what High School 'captain of the football team' would ever stand up and confess that one day he'll use the words 'Undies' and 'Heine' in front of his kids to prevent 'potty word' talks with teachers at school. If someone told me that having kids meant going to work with half your makeup on, I may have re-considered.

My mom tells me many wise things that maybe 7 years ago I would not have listened to. But now, when she says 'you will one day look back on this moment and laugh and then be sad at how time has flown' I believe her. Because although most of these last 7 years have been the hardest in my life, they have been the best too. And 7 years from now, I know that I will not have a tiny, brown toothed little fellow who can't pronounce his s's at my bedside needing me to make him breakfast. Unless of course, one day Sean changes his mind on having another bambino. I guess 7 years will tell...