Category Archives: Parenthood

For my little girl

My dream for you is that you always love yourself first so you can in turn love others.
That you always believe in yourself and your abilities.
That you recognize who your true friends are, who those who really love you are and that you spend your time, love and energy on those only, not wasting one minute on people who don’t matter in your life.
That you are never envious or jealous of your friends, but that instead you rejoice with them when they rejoice, that you cry with them when they cry.
That you love with all of your heart, unconditionally those around you, yet that you understand it’s never ok for someone to use or mistreat you. That you have the strength and wisdom to recognize when someone is toxic to your life and that you are strong enough to let them go and never look back.
That you never judge others or hate them because they are different than you or because you don’t understand them. Instead, I pray you learn from them and that you are compassionate always.
That you never let what a man thinks about you determine your self worth. That you always know you are beautiful, no matter what size clothes you wear, because your beauty is what’s in your heart and your mind.
That you learn from my mistakes as a mother, a woman and a human being and never use those mistakes against me. Instead, grow from them and decide to never make those mistakes yourself.
That you know your father and I ALWAYS have your best interest at heart. That everything we do is to make sure you are safe, that you thrive in life. We may not always get it right, but know our intentions are always pure and good.
I love you, my Gabriella and I hope you never, ever doubt that.
These are my dreams for you, my sweet girl.
I can’t wait to meet you.

Under pressure

After a routine visit, my doctor admitted me to Labor and Delivery because my blood pressure was high again and he wanted them to monitor me and do some blood work. My pressure went down and blood work came back normal, so they sent me home with orders of “bed rest”
Uh, yeah, right. That’s not even possible. I have 4303029 things to do before this baby comes. Cleaning my house inside out is one of them. I know I’ll have lots of visitors once she’s born and there’s no way in hell anyone is coming in with the house in this condition. Also, I have to do grocery shopping and more importantly, I have 2 boys I have to take care of. So there will be no bed rest for me. Not now, I have to be ready for this baby.
Speaking of my boys… You know, I don’t give a shit when people leave rude and insulting comments directed at ME. However, if you are pathetic enough to leave insulting comments about my KIDS? I kinda get urges to want to hurt you in evil, cruel ways and I WILL ban your ass from ever coming here again. Just thought I’d let that be known.
I predict that this baby will be born within the next 10 days. Wishful thinking on my part? Perhaps, but I just have this feeling that there’s no way I’ll make it til the 29th. Then again, what pregnant woman in her 9th month DOES think she’ll make it to her due date? None, I’m sure. Why don’t you people help me will this baby out? Do a dance, a chant, say a prayer, sacrifice a chicken or a goat… SOMETHING, ANYTHING!
I’m begging you.

bittersweetness


I found this picture the other night and I showed it to Ethan. I asked him if he remembers why he was smiling.
“Because, I loved you so so SOOOOO much back then, mommy”.
“And you don’t love me that much anymore?” I asked.
“Oh, I do, it’s just that when you get bigger, you want to play more instead of just hugging your mommy all day“.

Sigh.

My boys are growing so fast, and while they still love to spend time with me and their dad, the day is fast approaching where they’d rather not. They’d rather hang out with friends or lock themselves in their room. The day might come where they don’t want to talk to me about their day.
I don’t want to live with the regret that I didn’t cherish every moment I had with them while they were little. I don’t ever want to look back and wish I had spent more time with them. I don’t want any regrets of not giving them the attention they still crave from me right now.
Sometimes I think I wish they could stay little forever. I hate thinking of the day they are too big to crawl on my lap and cuddle with me. I wish they’d need me forever. But everyday, they need and depend on me a little less than the day before. Everyday they are becoming a little more independent. And while I know this is the natural course of life, it still hurts.

I told Tony we need to get back to some of the little family traditions we’ve slowly abandoned. Like family game night, or staying up late watching movies and eating popcorn, camping out on the family room floor, being silly. The days that my boys will want to do those things with us are numbered.

I just hope it the time goes by slowly. I want to enjoy these little guys as long as possible.

March 3, 1993.

Eleven years ago at this time, I was laying in a hospital bed awaiting the arrival of my first child. I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl and I couldn’t wait to find out. I was probably the happiest I had ever been in my life on that day.
I started pushing at 10 minutes until 8 oclock. In just a few minutes, my baby would be here… or so I thought. 9:30 pm, I was still pushing. My husband had been by my side the entire time waiting with me. Holding my hand as I would breathe through each contraction. Wiping the sweat off of my forehead with a washcloth, feeding me ice chips, rubbing my back when the pain became unbearable, encouraging me through every pain, through every scream, through every tear.
Finally, at 9:54, my baby was born. “It’s a boy” the nurse shouted. My husband instantly began to thank God, I cried. I had given birth to my first child and it was a boy. We had a son. Suddenly, we were a family. Our lives were complete.
I was a little nervous when we brought our Andrew Josiah home. I had no idea how I would take care of him. I didn’t know if I’d be a good mother. Amazingly, it all just fell into place. I instictively knew what to do. I knew how to soothe him when he cried, I knew what his cries meant. It was the most beautiful time of my life. I was filled with joy, love and happiness everyminute I was around my son.
I remember looking at him and thinking there had never been a baby as beautiful, as precious as my baby.
Here we are 11 years later. Eleven years… How the time has flown by. Andrew has been such a joy to have as a son. He’s kind, considerate, obidient, loving and has the greatest sense of humor. I love him more than I could ever put into words.
Happy Birthday, Andrew Josiah. Thank you for all of the love you’ve brought into our lives. You’re an amazing kid and I am lucky to be your mother.

Pooberty.

My life has been completely turned upside down.
On Friday, Andrew watched “The Puberty Videos” at school.
Oh LORD.
It’s been non stop puberty, balls, hairy balls, boobs, penis, etc talk ever since.
And the questions!
Night before last this was the question.
“Mom, do I have to put deodorant on my nuts, since they’re growing hair on them?”
Then there’s the discussion with other family members.
The other day my mom asked the boys what they wanted to talk about. Ethan put his hand on his chin, as if he was thinking and he said “I know, Gramma, let’s talk about pooberty”
My mom asked him what “pooberty” was.
“You know, grandma, it’s about penises!”
Andrew, the puberty expert interjected.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Ethan, puberty starts with BO!” Then added “And speaking of BO, mines starting to kick in, Gramma.”

My mom was mortified and dying of laughter all at the same time. Mortified because she still hasn’t had the puberty talk with me, we never talked about that stuff. Infact, I got in trouble when I started my period because I KNEW WHAT A PERIOD WAS. No lie. I promised myself I’d always be open with my kids about it because of how my parents were, but I never expected it would be this akward and uncomfortable for me.
I’m thinking of running away for a few weeks until this all blows over. I think Tony can handle it.

Bitch, where’s my bologna sandwich?

I’ve decided I’m going to buy and apron with a big pocket in the front. I’m going to keep a pad of paper and a pen in that pocket. On the weekends, I’m going to wear that apron, with the pocket in front, with the pen and paper in that pocket and sit by the front door.
And I’m going to take orders from my kids and the 72 kids that think my house is the hood diner.
I’m going to take orders and freshly prepare whatever it is they ask for.
“Corn dog? Would you like mustard and ketchup with that? Coming right up!”
All the while with a smile on my face.
I think I’ll wear a short skirt and roller blades, that way they’ll tip me really good, with lots of candy, because I know the hoodlums in that hang out here are broke as MC Hammer.
All that would be missing is that damned cash register I never did get for my birthday.
Oh, the boys are yelling for a piece of cake, I must go and serve them and in doing so, serve my purpose in this family.
Can I get you anything while I’m in the kitchen?