I haven't written in over a year.  I think.  I've lost track of time.  Ask me today's date and I cannot tell you.  I know tomorrow is "Park Day" for Joseph's Co-op.  I know that baseball is Wed. at 5:30 pm.  Soccer is Sat. @ 10 am.  My life is full of my two boys and their schedules.  We play at home in our yard, we play at parks, at pools, at golf courses.  We play and have fun and meet&greet people.  We have a wonderful life, my boys and I.  My husband Terry works hard so I can stay home and raise J&J, as I call them.  I am so lucky.  I love my life.  I love my boys.  I am so lucky.  I hope I make time to write some more.  I miss my on-line friends.  I miss connecting with other women.  I need more connections, more adult-conversations.  That, I know, I need and miss.

Mommy, I have a fever...I need to watch "Caillou"

This has been a cold snowy icy winter. And I have become a robot parent. I now let my boys watch TV. Lots. Not so much for Joseph, but for John. During his baby-hood, John watched no TV. Not necessary. Too many things to do! But when Joseph was born, 2 1/2 year-old John needed something (read: "I needed something for John...) to do while I nursed and put down for a nap. I needed John to be quiet while Joseph napped. I needed John NOT to climb the mantle or piano while I nursed baby Joseph. So, I popped in a DVD of Bob the Builder our neighbors gave us. I popped in "John Denver & the Muppets Christmas Together". I popped in "Finding Nemo" and "Toy Story". These 4 DVDs were the mainstay of John's life for a good 13 months.

Then, we found "Caillou" On Demand. We accidentally found him, and he instantly became John's best friend. Then, my husband rented a Winnie The Pooh DVD. Winnie became John's new best friend. John now only watches Caillou or Winnie. No more Bob the Builder (thankfully), no more John Denver (rats!), Nemo is fine in a pinch, and Toy Story 2 and 3 are not even considered. Buzz and Woody are on the back burners. Fine with me, actually. They are a bit too worldly.

John only wants to watch Caillou and Winnie (and his pals from the 100-Acre-Wood). I'm okay with this. The lessons offered are lovely. I wish there was a real Caillou to be John's friend, because he needs a good friend. He needs a boy to play with (other than our squishy little baby Joey), to run with, to accidentally hurt and be sorry with, to forgive, to wrestle and race with. Winnie and Christopher Robin and Piglet and Eyeore and Tigger and Roo teach John how to be nice and gentle and fun and laughing. These are all good friends for my boys.

I wish these sweet TV/DVD characters were real for my boys. They need (they deserve) nice, fun-loving friends to play with. I need them to have kind responsible friends to play with. I can only teach them so much. John is learning lovely life-lessons from Caillou and Winnie and Piglet and Christopher Robin. I just wish they would be active with John and Joseph. Imaginary play is so important. Creative story-telling and make-believe are priceless.

Holding hands and skipping and jumping in puddles are priceless too. And real. I want "REAL" for my boys, to balance their make-believe. Is there anyone out there who has a 3 3/4 year-old boy and a 15 month-old boy to play with mine?

Why Must They Grow Up?

I'm grabbing at these days, these last days of summer. My sweet angel-baby John is going to go to pre-school in a couple of weeks. 5 DAYS A WEEK!!! I'm not ready. I don't want to just drop him off, leave him to someone else who won't love him the way I do. She won't listen to him the way I do, she won't notice every little thing he does and says.

John will be in the classroom 3 hours each day with 19 other children and two teachers. The teachers are wonderful. They are loving and knowledgeable, experienced and creative. They are kind and comforting and patient. John will (hopefully) thrive in his preschool. BUT HE'S MY BABY AND HE'LL BE AWAY FROM ME FOR 3 HOURS 5 DAYS A WEEK. He's probably ready. I'm not ready. He'll learn and play and explore and make new friends. He'll see and do things that I could never offer him. He'll have experiences and opportunities that I cannot give him. He'll probably love preschool and like going there each day. I want that for him.

But I'm going to miss him so much. Who will smile at him and watch the cool things he does? Will he say "Want to see this?"? And will anyone say back to him "Yes, John, show me."? When he does something great, or figures something out, or keeps trying not crying, who will acknowledge him? Who will meet his eyes across the room and smile? Who will notice him? If he gets hurt, or if his feelings get hurt, will he turn to someone or will he suffer silently? Will he swallow the urge to cry? His loving soccer ball (his lovey) won't be with him, and neither will I. Will he lose his sensitivity, his vulnerability? Will he become hardened, unfeeling? He's so sweet and little and tender. I don't want that to go away. I don't want to miss out on ANYTHING in John's life. My baby John is growing up and I don't want him to. I want him to stay 3, to stay home with me and play all day. I want to snuggle with him, wrestle with him, twirl and chase him. I want to push little John in the swing for hours, so high that his feet touch the cedar branches above.

I'm not ready for John to go to preschool. John's ready. He'll be okay. He'll be wonderful. I won't. I won't be okay. I'll have to hide my tears as I walk to the car and drive away. I'll have to keep reminding myself that he's where he's supposed to be, he's going to love his school and teacher and classmates. I'll have to spend our afternoons playing and snuggling and watching and listening and delighting in my John. I have to be smart about how I spend my time with my babies, because it is so fleeting.

Our Family

I've been reading some friends' blogs about their times at BlogHer2010. I wish I could say "I wish I had gone to NYC and BlogHer", but I don't need to go. Not yet. I'm not a big blogger - I don't have time. I don't have time to write, I don't have time to read, I don't have time to even formulate complete sentences usually. I get inspirations, ideas, thoughts that grab me, but by the time my babies are in bed and my chores are finished, I'm so tired I am incoherent.

It is getting easier. My boys are sleeping more through the night, except for John's night-terrors. I've been going into him at 2:30 am and 5:30 am almost every night for about 3 weeks now. I lay down with him, hold him and his soccer ball, stroke his sweaty hair off of his forehead, and fall asleep. A while later, I hear Joseph crying (without the monitor - can you believe it?), climb out of John's little bed, and go to my baby baby. (John is my big boy baby, Joseph is my baby baby). Then I sleep with Joseph until he awakes, usually about 6:30 am. He starts to play with his binkie, talks, rolls around, looks at me, then scoots over or rolls over to me and touches my face. He is so fun to sleep with. It takes me a few minutes to awaken, since I had been awake a few times already during the night. But then we stay in bed until John awakens, playing, snuggling, smiling at each other, holding hands, playing "binkie hide and seek". When John awakens, he comes into bed with us, saying "Little Joey" as he gives Joey "the love". He loves Joey so hard!

Anyway, I digress. I started writing this post after reading about BlogHer2010, about the friends who are realizing that their actual and supportive friends are online, not in their same town. I started thinking about my own friends and family. I have been trying to create a family for a while now. I have a family, my parents, siblings and their spouses, nieces & nephews, aunts & uncles, cousins. But we are not close anymore. We have grown apart, our children have grown apart, and life is going on.

After feeling lonely for comeraderie, I started making family time with friends and their families. I started seeking out friends with children John's & Joseph's ages, so we could plan family outings with them. I am creating a new family for myself. I love my "family of origin", and always will, but I LIKE and LOVE my new family. I have friends from long ago, who have friends John's ages (Jenny & Ann), friends from our co-op (Kristen, Candace, Norma, Stacey, Kristina, Elise, Jovanka, Nancy), friends from our book club which no longer meets and no longer reads books but remain my best friends (Paula, Jane, Kendra, Jennifer, Alicia, MaryBeth, Nicole). I am, I say it again, creating my family. I hope to remain friends with these amazing women and their children & spouses for the rest of my life. I hope to make new friends at my boys' new schools, and include them in my family. I think it is important to create routines and rituals for my boys. Things they can remember and look forward to and predict. Family Time with our extended "family" is one thing I want to consistently plan and do. We need those connections, that support. I don't have it with fellow bloggers (yet???), but am creating it with my friends who know me better than my "family of origin" does. Is it weird? Yes, a bit. I thought I'd be super close to my siblings and we'd raise our children together. Not happening. We have nothing, really, in common. We have different values and wishes for our children. And, it's okay. I have matured enough (I hope) to recognize this and accept it. And to create a circle of friends my boys can turn to for fun, support, and love.

Our new family. Our chosen family. We love and like them. And it is good.

Fat Chicks Sweat More...

I'm having a tough time sticking to my diet. I get such cravings at night, especially for chocolate. I WANT to lose weight. I feel so great when I do, feel so great when I eat right, feel so great after I excercise. Why can't I use those great feelings after 7 pm? Why can't I get motivated to not eat after 7 pm? To snack on healthy food instead of "Cheetos" and chocolate? Ugh. If it weren't for night-time vampire feedings, I'd lose about 2 lbs per week or more. Ugh Ugh. What can I eat after 7 pm that won't make me gain weight and that will satisfy my salty & chocolate cravings?

Bodacious Blonde Bimbo

As you know, I'm over 40. 43 years old, to be exact.

My husband will be 50 in December. He is one of the last of his group of friends to turn 50.

We went to his friend Kevin's 50th birthday party this past Tuesday, with our two little munchkins (who were, I admit, the LIFE of the party). I knew most of the people, who were Kevin's friends and family. I did my usual - held Joseph, followed John, chatted with people, followed John, introduced myself and my boys when necessary, followed John. It was great. I didn't have to talk if I didn't want to, I could use my boys as an excuse to leave an awkward situation.

John was so so busy in Kevin's & Sheila's back yard. They have two boys, grown now, and have created their house and yard to withstand little (and huge) boys. John could do no harm. He discovered all the fountains and ponds and fish and rocks and sticks and hiding places. The yard was totally fenced in, so I didn't have to worry about him getting out. He was free to roam and play and explore and discover and dart about. There were other little children there, but they stayed with their mommies. John went to each adult and asked them, in his precious little lisp, how they were doing and did they want to see his compass (or his rock or his stick or whatever else he stuffed in his pocket). Every person knew John within one hour of us being there. It was great.

Anyway, back to me. This is really why I am writing this post. I visited with the other wives of my husband's friends, with the grandparents and children and everyone in between. I didn't notice anything unusual.

On our drive home, around 9:30, both boys were asleep. My husband told me how beautiful I looked. He said I was the prettiest, youngest-looking woman at the party. He said he couldn't believe how young I looked, that I could pass for someone in my late 20s or early 30s.

YES!!!

If you were to ask me my age, my first gut-level response would be 24. Then I have to think and re-answer. Ugh. I'm glad I look younger that I am. Except, I've been noticing the grey hair. I've been a dark blonde all of my adult life and now the dark blonde around my face is turning grey. When I was younger (0-20 years old) I was REALLY blonde. Naturally really blonde. My John is really blonde, just like I was.

I want to be that blonde again. I made an appointment with my hair "artiste", Darrell, who has been doing my hair nicely for over 10 years, for this Thurs., July 1 at 10:30 am. He is going to color my hair, get rid of the grey. But I don't want him to color it the dark dirty blonde it has become. I want to become BLONDE like I used to be. Like my John.

I want to become, again, a bodacious blonde bimbo. I was one, once. I want to become one again. If it works, I'll post photos. I don't need a boob job. Mine are big enough, even before I was nursing babies. I'm working on losing the baby weight (and puberty weight, and college weight, and living alone in my 20s weight, and partying every night in my 30s weight). I've lost almost 15 pounds since April Fools Day. I have 35 pounds to go. I'm short, so , yes, I have 35 pounds to lose. By my husband's 50th birthday in December. It can be done. 2 pounds each week. I just need to be disciplined and not eat after 7 pm. Oh, and give up chocolate. Ugh.

Bodacious Blonde Bimbo...ready or not, here I come!

Tell Me THAT Story

My John is so interesting. I've never met anyone like him. He actually learns from stories. He asks me to tell him stories about things all day long. And I try to do just that, just for him. Doesn't matter where we are or what we are doing.

As I place him in his blue bucket swing, under our cedar trees, he says, "Tell me about the little boy (bo-wee) whose mommy is putting him in his swing under his green cedar trees, in his pajamas, and he wants to stand in his swing, not sit. Tell me THAT story." So I make up a story about just that, with a little lesson on how he must sit on the swing so he does not fall out.

As I change his diaper, he says, "Tell me the story of the little boy whose mommy is changing his diaper and gets boom on the sofa because he wouldn't lie still. Tell me THAT story." So I do. Lesson: stay still, with your legs up, so we don't get boom everywhere. AND, when you go boom on the toilet, you don't have to worry about getting it everywhere or lying still while mommy changes your diaper. We're really encouraging using the toilet, since preschool begins in 2.5 short months.

After John hits Baby Joey on the head with his knuckles, he tearfully says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who hits his baby on the head with his knuckles. Tell me THAT story." And so I do, about the nice little boy who loves his baby brother so much that he is just bursting with love and it comes out hard through his fist. And the big boy feels so badly for hurting the baby and making the baby cry. And how the little boy never wants to do that again, never ever. And how the little boy will have to go to time-out if he hits the baby again. Then John puts his face on Joey's head, "giving Joey the love" he says.

When we drive up to our house, John says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who injusts (adjusts) mommy's seat so much that she can't reach the pedals or climb up or sit up straight. Tell me THAT story." So, as he is "injusting" my driver's seat, I laughingly tell him of the fun little boy who moves mommy's seat around so much that I am facing backward and upside-down while I'm driving. And how Johnny pushes a button so that I fly out the roof into the sky. He laughs and laughs, trying to move the seat in every which way. Not all of our stories are serious lesson stories.

The list wonderfully goes on. I'm telling stories every few minutes sometimes, especially when John feels like being naughty, or accidentally is naughty or gets hurt. He really does learn from them, often choosing NOT to repeat the crime or accident (ack-sident).

And he is trying to do funny things, to hear funny stories so he can laugh and laugh. He loves laughing (I have an ultrasound photo of him, laughing in-utero, at about 30 weeks), and he LOVES making Joey laugh. That is often his goal in life. John makes Joey laugh more than anyone else can. John can make eye-contact with Joseph, and Joseph will scream laugh and hide his eyes and face in my chest, then look back at John and laugh some more. When John speaks to Joey, Joey cracks up, no matter what John says. They have a cool connection. They understand each other, without needing to speak. I love watching them. I hope they will be best friends forever, truly.

Tell me THAT story.