A Mom's Life

Ever heard the story about the boy who cried wolf? You know the lesson then: the more we blow things out of proportion or call a false alarm, the less likely it is that others will help us when we really need it. Well, this is the story of a girl who cried poop. Teaching a child to use the toilet is a giant undertaking and there are many approaches to making it happen. Some parents bring a few books and games into the bathroom, camp out, and play the waiting game, praying that eventually the child will feel the need to go and -voila- she'll conveniently already be sitting on the potty when the big moment arrives. Others place plastic or towels over every surface in their house and look for signs. Is she antsily grabbing herself? Is she crouching under the table? Is she looking at you and saying, "I have to go to the potty!" The potty training process requires lots of communication between parent and child. It also requires trust. The child must trust that the parent will ...

During a visit to our house a few weeks ago, my mom delivered several boxes of my '80's and '90's toys that my dad had extracted from the attic. We found Pound Puppies, My Little Ponies, a Simon Says and lots of music boxes that my grandmother sent me over the years. Caroline and Andy gathered up most of the goods before I was able to hold them and think about all the wonderful times spent playing with these items. Since the arrival of the old toys, I have been playing one of the music boxes for Caroline after reading her bedtime stories. I remember my mom doing the same for me, each night, year after year. Last night Caroline was a little less tired and a little more rambunctious than usual. Andy read to her and then she called for me. After a story, I turned out her light, turned on her night light and twisted the ballerina music box a few times. I hummed the tune I know so well as I wished her a final good night and left the room. I spent the next few hours scrap boo...

Every time someone asks Andy or me how long we've been married we tack, "but it feels like forever" to the number of years. We just celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary but we've been together since the fall of 2001- ten years. I find it a tad disturbing that I'm now old enough to reference activities in decades including being a professional, my years out of school, having a license, being able to drink legally, running for fun and exercise, and maintaining friendships. Oh yeah, and being involved in a domestic partnership. We all remember, and may think, that it's so much fun to be in the beginning of a relationship. It's thrilling to learn something new about your romantic buddy on a daily basis, like his favorite food or song, whether or not he snores in his sleep and the way he takes his coffee. You know you've hit a new level of intimacy when you hear the sob stories of past breakups or learn the true story behind that scar over his eye. Th...

Babies are clogging my inbox and filling my facebook feed. Childbirth seems to go in cycles and everywhere I turn lately, someone is announcing a baby welcomed into their world. Oh, baby. Soft, warm, snuggly baby. Sweet, nice-smelling, perfect baby. Bright eyes, tiny fingers and toes, looking like an old man or woman. I see beautiful pictures of baby wearing a hat, wrapped in a comfy blanket, in the arms, and surrounded by, all the people who love that baby more than it will ever know. I savor every picture, re-read every snippet of the birth announcement. Seven pounds, 8 pounds 4 ounces, 10 pounds 11 ounces, 21 inches, 18 inches, 2 hours of labor, 10 hours of labor. As I learn of the news, I look at my own miracles. My little miracle, who last night applied Chapstick to her own lips, yeah, not those lips, the other lips. My big miracle who is learning to write her name and reminds me that turd is not a nice word. Five years have passed since we welcomed our first snuggly gift to our h...

Last year, on one of our many visits to the health clinic, we discovered in the waiting room that Charlotte had a fat, feeding tick above one of her ears. Luckily for us we were able to slide into an open spot with the pede for quick tick removal. Except- it wasn't that easy. This little bastard was clinging to Charlotte for dear life and the doctor used a little tool to twist and pull the tick while the nurse held my little, beautiful baby by her arms and legs as she screamed at the top of her lungs. I was upset by the whole thing and I'm pretty sure the pediatrician and nurse broke a sweat but poor Caroline practically lost her mind watching her sister squirm in pain. She and I sat away from the scene, watching it unfold from a corner in the room. As Charlotte wailed, Caroline responded. The louder Charlotte's screams, the more agitated Caroline became until finally she was rolling around on the ground, legs and arms shaking at the ceiling. By the end, I cradled a moani...

I cry quite a bit. It's basically my reaction to just about everything. Whether I'm mad, glad, happy or sad, I'm going to bawl. I can try my very best to bury the tears inside but I have no poker face. As soon as I feel the air welling up in my chest, the lump in my throat, I'm a goner. Here's a brief list of the things I've cried over of late: -The girls breaking the sunglasses my mother-in-law just bought me. I only wore them once! -In a work meeting after watching a 9/11 Tribute. -After reading or watching anything related to 9/11. -Watching the commercial with the dad talking to his daughter before she drives away in the car, you know, the one where he sees her as a little girl and not a teen. -Watching the girls warm up to Katy Perry's Firework before the Girls on the Run 5k. -While running next to Caroline in the GOTR 5k. -The very beginning of any race I've ever particpated in. There's something about watching others meet a goal, and me acco...

Six years ago you were a wish upon a star. A quiet realization that I wanted more in my life. Five years ago we were one. You filled my belly with life and my heart with hope. Four years ago I held you in my arms. You called me Mama and I wondered how I would ever let you go. Three years ago we walked hand-in-hand but you walked ahead every so often. I worried that I need you more than you needed me. Two years ago I looked at you as if for the first time, and your soulful eyes smiled back at me. My little girl. One year ago we sat across from one another and had an actual conversation. I was proud of the woman you will one day become. Today I wished upon a star and my heart filled with hope. I held you in my arms and we walked hand-in-hand. Today I looked into your soulful eyes. You smiled back at me and just like every day since you were born, I was proud of the woman you will one day be and the girl you are now.