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Because he loves going to pubs to watch sports games… not with the boys, but with ME!
He rubs my feet every single night.
He carries the kids from the living room to the bedroom every single night at bedtime. Even though I am sure he is in ample amounts of pain by the time he gets to kid #4… or maybe even #2…
He loves all kids.
He loves all vampires.
He cannot follow even the simplest plot line on a TV or Movie. This makes me look like a freakin’ genius — especially if I actually PREDICT the ending, which I have taken to writing down and putting in an envelope to be opened after the finale so as to not ruin it for him.
He can do Calculus but struggles with dividing up a single quesidilla amongst 5 kids.
He never ever yells… at anyone.
He calls Emme “Sweet Girl” and there in no one she would rather be with than him.
He has amazing blue eyes, killer biceps, and a sexy jawline.
He tries harder than anyone I know.
He loves 80′s power ballads. Especially, “My Heart Will Go On” from the Titanic soundtrack. Could I even make that up?
He can turn the simplest conversation into a science lesson.
He learned to love baseball just for me.
He is deeply kind.
He works two demanding jobs so I can stay home with the kids.
He loves me not in spite of my cantankerous side but because of my cantankerous side.
His favorite students are the ones on the fringe, the ones who have lost hope in school… and then he wins them over.
That even though he turned 39 yesterday, he thinks he can pull-off looking like he is in his mid-20′s by donning a hat and baggy shorts.
Happy Birthday, honey, I love you!
I am the mother of pirate.
That same pirate is also a jedi, a superhero, a secret agent, and a paleontologist.
Before Ty was born I knew that becoming a mom would be transformative. I knew that in my head but I didn’t know it in my heart until I had this little baby in my arms and I knew… knew… I would never be the same.
My mom describes motherhood like this. When your child is born there is a rope (I am speaking metaphorically here… I would never advocate giving a rope to a newborn.) The mommy holds most of the rope and the baby has a grip on just the fray at the end. Slowly, slowly we start to hand over more of the rope to our kids — giving them more control, more say, more of themselves. And, in turn, we get less control, less say, and less of them. Until one day we see that they have the whole rope and we are gripping the fray at the end.
The first time this was put to the test was when Ty was about 18 months old. The older girls had been living with us for a few months and Ty chose Jade INSTEAD OF ME to read him his afternoon book. My first thought was to recoil and start reeling in that rope… but luckily I got ahold of myself. There have also been times when Ty has tried to grab so much, no, TOO much of the rope for him to handle. Like the time he was 2 years old and used a variety of household items — fire poker, stool, hanger — to try and break into Grandma’s car.
Last week Ty turned five. Before his birthday I thought I would be terribly depressed and blue at the thought of his turning five. I thought I would have “rope burns” as a bit more of the rope was yanked through my hands. Instead, I found myself willing handing it over with a quiet peace of mind that although my boy was growing up, that he was exactly where he was supposed to be and so was I.
I teased him by saying, “When you turn five, will you still hug me?” “Yes!” he said. “Will you still wanna cuddle?” “Yes!” he yelled. “Will you still climb into bed with me when you have a bad dream?” “Yes, MOMMY,” he said, “I will always hug you and kiss you and wanna sleep with you and cuddle you and love you and give you MARATHON kisses!” And, I know that all of this is not exactly the truth. He will, afterall, go on to love other people — his wife, his kids, his grandkids. And I will almost for sure be the overbearing mother in law that makes everyone’s eyes roll. Showing up with my color coded calendar of activities and still licking my finger to wipe a smudge off of his cheek. But, I do know that my love for him is a gift. That NO ONE will ever love HIM like I do. No one. Because no one loves you like your mom. And, I get to be “mom.” And that is a good thing.
So, avast the sails, me hearties. May the force be with you. Up, up and away. Get out your decorder ring. Dig up some T-rex bones. And have a very Happy Mother’s Day!
Yesterday was Jade’s 14th Birthday:
I remember the day she was born. I had to rent a car and drive to my hometown in order to be there for her birth. I was lucky that I worked for someone at the time who valued important family events over whatever it was that I would have gotten accomplished that day.
We waited and waited and waited outside the room. I literally had my ear pressed to the door of the room when I heard her very first little baby cry. I held her only moments later and I thought, “Oh My God (not OMG, but a real prayer) this is unconditional love. This is it!” I was completely stunned at the feeling. I would never love anyone the way I love her because she actually TAUGHT me to love. Just by being born.
Now she lives with me and is my oldest. Everyday I hope that I am “enough” for her — that although I cannot replace mom and dad, that she knows I love her so deeply, so profoundly that even when I want to pull my hair out over “8th grade girl-ness” I would never want anyone but her as my oldest. I cannot believe that 14 years has gone by and that she is so close to entering high school. As I sat on our big chair with her tonight after the family birthday party,we thumbed through her brand new cookbook and tried to find a good recipe for to try. It felt a bit like hanging out with a friend. She has always been a kindred spirit. We are both alpha females, both emotional, both resistant to change and both sarcastic to a fault.
A year ago for her 13th birthday a group of women gathered around her and proclaimed her value, her worth, her preciousness before us and before God.
I am so glad I don’t have to do it alone and that there is an amazing collection of women to embrace her and remind her of her worth.
I mean, other than the fact — as is so very obvious in the photo — that we’re a bunch of hooligans-turned-party animals.
So, Happy Birthday Jade. You are dearly loved.
I’ve got a bone to pick with George Vernon Hudson, the man who first suggested Daylight Savings Time. He made this suggestion, mind you, so he would have more daylight hours in the evening to study bugs. Yup. B.U.G.S.
George Vernon Hudson (Wikipedia)
But I think the night we spring ahead is just about the the worst night of the year.
I hate that night.
It is the night that the “powers that be” punish sleep-deprived mothers in favor of…. well, I am not sure what we are actually supposed to gain from SKIPPING an hour ahead. (See? Just saying that… writing it… feels wrong.)
I know what I gained.
First, my baby is totally thrown off her sleep schedule. Ya know, the one we carefully crafted and molded into something we could all tolerate. Yeah, well that nano-moment of bliss is over.
Next, I am pretty sure I overdosed on caffeine Sunday morning. Resulting in the jitters. Which resulted in a lot of pacing around. Which hurt my foot. So, now I have a hurt foot. Well, to be fair, my foot already hurt. But now it hurts more.
The whole day reached confusing levels when we kept using the terms “body clock” and “actual clock” back and forth in an attempt to decipher what time it really was.
And how should we refer to this day? As a “holiday? Well, as far as holidays go, this day is really lacking. Really, FLAG DAY is better than Spring Ahead day. Even LABOR DAY which is a day dedicated to, well, labor, is better that losing that precious hour. In fact, I am pretty sure this day ranks below NATIONAL CROCHET WEEK and NATIONAL BUBBLE WEEK — which were both last week. I kid you not. In fact, here are a bunch of holidays in the month of March that I am sure I would rather celebrate than losing that precious hour of sleep.
March 1 – National Pig Day. Who doesn’t love bacon?
March 6 – Dentist’s Day (and you all know how I feel about dentists…)
March 9th – Be Nasty Day. This one actually sounds good, if you can pull it off. I pretty much honor this day each morning in the minutes between waking up and my 8th cup of coffee.
March 10 – Middle Name Pride Day. Mine is “Lynn.” Woo-Hoo… Go LYNN!
March 13 – Ear Muff Day, strategically positioned the day BEFORE Spring Ahead.
March 23 – National Chip and Dip Day. Now we’re talking!!!
March 31 – National Bunsen Burner Day. Dave will love this. It’s a chemistry teacher’s dream come true!
But my favorite day, the day I most look forward to (and my husband will attest to this) is the day we FALL BACK. Now, that’s a day I can fall in love with.
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