A Moment Over Coffee

I was in the kitchen rounding up the breakfast supplies. Eldest walked in, opened the dishwasher and grabbed a cup.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re dirty.”

“No, the sign said ‘Clean’.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes”

“OK then.”

He pulled out the cup, closed the door, and glanced at the sign. He pulled the door open again. I smiled as he put the cup back.

“Never doubt your mother in the morning when she’s drinking a giant cup of coffee,” I teased him.

“Coffee is so yummy.”

“Yes it is. Do you want a sip?”

“Yes please.”

He came to my side and carefully took the giant mug in his hands. He was so big, easily standing over the stove. I wondered if he was pretending to ignore how hot it was against his hands or if he found the warmth comforting. He would die if his friends saw him drinking out of a giant pink mug with Sleeping Beauty on it.

“I know why Daddy wants you to pack a pair of jeans for me.”

“Oh yeah? Why?” I thought maybe his dad had planned something special for them and had told them.

“Because he doesn’t have any.”

“Oh. He could buy you a pair.”

“I know.”

I smiled at him. He smiled back.

“Did you pack them?”

“Yes.”

“And Baby’s sandals?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Go brush your teeth.”

He walked away sipping his cup of water and I spent the rest of the day wondering if I had slipped and said something I shouldn’t have.

One Week Later

It’s been one week since the birth story I posted yesterday. Seven days of spending time with my third child. It’s so strange saying that. Three children! I never imagined I’d have three children. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

It’s been nice getting to know Baby. He feels and smells so yummy. He’s a quiet baby and if he’s crying something isn’t right. He has one colicky fit in the wee early morning hours and that only happens if he’s spent the evening in my bed with free reign on his milk supply 😉 Otherwise, he’s a complete delight and I’m SO happy to have him here. I am especially intrigued by his eyebrows which are barely visible and resemble peach fuzz. I also can’t stop kissing his tiny soft head.

Eldest and Daughter have surprised me with their little brother. Eldest is enthralled and constantly asks, “Isn’t he SO cute?” He loves watching Baby and will touch his little foot or hand every now and then. He’s very captivated by his TINY size and in the hospital kept exclaiming over his tiny fingers and toes.

Daughter has taken on the Mini Mommy role which has completely surprised me. She cannot leave Baby alone. She sounds the alarm when he cries and when he’s being carried she simply must come and touch him– especially his soft hair. She loves his vibrating rocking chair and moves it from room to room demanding we put Baby into it. She also likes climbing into it herself and relaxing. She has also been known to sit on the edge of it when Baby’s in it. She loves covering him in blankets and always brings them over to me for “baby’. And she absolutely ADORES holding him and asks to do so often.

By the way, it is worth mentioning that the beautiful girl in that photo up there happily holding her little brother is turning (terribly) two this Friday (the 13th). I takes my breath away at how fast it has all gone. I wonder if maybe I missed something? I’ll share lots more about my gorgeous princess this Friday becuse it gets me very teary-eyed knowing she’s getting older. I can’t help it. I’m a sentimental fool these days.

I swore I never would

I did something yesterday I swore I'd never ever do. I have been adamant in my position for a good couple of years now and yesterday, I didn't even look back- I jumped the fence.

I bought my almost 5 year old son

a pair of

Crocs.

The first time I saw those things, I was amused. They were odd things and I think I saw them in a picture of a young woman wearing them. They were bright in color, maybe red. I think it may even have been on a blog. In the photo, they worked. It was a folksy looking photo and it seemed appropriate but I was absolutely horrified to see those things appear on feet in the street. They do nothing for a foot especially a female one. There is no grace there, no sexiness, no finesse. Don't get me wrong, I get it. They're rubber clogs. And I know clogs aren't in right now but they have been and they will be and there have been some fabulous clogs out there but these are rubber clogs and not pretty clogs. Ok so you're a gardener and you wear them in your garden fine. Keep them there.

Now, my only thing is, I've never thought they were too bad on children. I know how children are with shoes. Eldest especially has gotten to be particular about shoes and pinching. I even found it amusing that they made those little Jibbitz things and I know that I most likely would've loved the stupid things as a kid. So yesterday, Eldest and I were shopping at one of my current favorite malls, The Falls. I can't afford most of the stores there but I like the ambience and I definitely like to LOOK at the nice things. There's a Build a Bear there too and since the company started making Friendosaurs I've wanted to take Eldest. I had a coupon that expires today and so Eldest and I were at the Falls. Plus I had some birthday shopping to do for my two best friends.

We'd been walking around a bit and Eldest started telling me how much his feet were hurting him. One especially, he said, was really pinching. We came up on a children's shoe store and I brought him inside to see if we could find some nice comfy flip flops or sandals at the very least. First thing I did was have him measured and I almost cried. He measures a 10.5. He was wearing 8.5 shoes. Bad mom award, here I come again. And then it got worse. They had these great pairs of Nike sandals. Perfectly what I was looking for. The guy gave him the pair of 11's because there are no half sizes and Eldest could not fit his foot into the straps. His foot is too wide. Eldest tried on every pair of sandals and flips they had. If they fit him lengthwise, they didn't fit width-wise. If they fit width-wise, they were too long because they were size 12. So the guy suggested Crocs. I looked at the wall in the store covered in them. I knew they'd be comfy for him. I knew they'd fit well enough. I knew he'd like them. I knew they wouldn't pinch his poor little feet. I knew it wouldn't be a struggle to get them on because of how tight they were.

"Ok." I said it and never looked back. The guy brought a pair of black ones in 10 – 11. They fit. Slightly loose so there's ample room. I even let him buy a Jibbit for each shoe (he picked a pirate flag and a shark). And I walked out of that shoe store $32 poorer and my son walked out of there 1000 times lighter on his chubby feet.

And that is the story of how Crocs are in my house– with Jibbitz.

In other news…

Last night I did something I hadn't done in ages. Honestly, I can't remember the last time. I went out on an honest-to-goodness Girls Night with my closest pals. We met at CocoWalk, had some dinner, then went to watch Sex & the City. After that, we all went home because we're old and exhausted all of the time these days. 🙂 it was a great night, really. We had fun just being together and being girly. Funny enough, there were 4 of us. Two of us, never got in the show (my being one of them) but the 2 birthday girls love the show. So it works out nicely, of course, to match us up to the characters in the show. One has seen every episode of the show so we let her choose and then we all pretty much agreed, watched the movie, and agreed some more. She is the Miranda of the group. The detachment and the dryness. That's her. Aloof to everyone, to those that know her she's a gem. Another is Charlotte. The complete romantic dedicated to her man and who is DYING for "the dream"– the wedding, the babies, the happy home, and the stay at home mom life. The drama is definitely there too and the emotions. So that leaves Carrie and Samantha. The is the Carrie. She has gone through a lot of pain in her search for love. She's an intelligent girl and a joker. She always provides the wry commentary. Which leaves me as Samantha. Which may seem odd because here I am married with 2.75 children and a dog. And seeing the movie, I get why I'm the Samantha. It's not the whole sex-obsessed part because even though I am SURE they recalling the me of oh 10 years ago, what really is Samantha in me and what she's really thinking about is the take-chargeness. Samantha is the one that just gets shit done. Don't worry about it, she'll take care of it. In other words, she's the bossy one. 🙂

Of course there's something of all the characters in everyone. That's what's made the show so successful. There is one moment that almost brought my hormonal self to tears and it was a Charlotte scene about how terrifying it can be to be happy. Because the more you have what you want the more you feel you're at risk of losing. And everyone knows loss is random and senseless. Bad things happen to bad people, yes, but they happen to amazing people and average people too. No one is safe from loss. We are mostly all raised to understand that we are not going to get everything we want in life. And I'm not sure why we're raised that way. Maybe to dampen the pain if indeed we don't get what we want. The thing is, that when you DO get what you want, you're stuck thinking something is terribly terribly wrong and you've somehow missed the justice of the universe and you just wait for it to level itself. I have the feeling that I have written about this before…

Daughter just opened a childproof bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol. Gotta go.