BENDING THROUGH MOTHERHOOD

JUST LIKE THAT

2012-01-19T17:19:00.000-08:00

It is an interesting phenomenon. A mother can communicate with her children, far before they have learned how to speak. It is in the eyes, the gestures, the smiles, the tears. I am quite fascinated by this wordless communication.

My children are now 5.5 and 2.5 years of age. Scout, our oldest, learned to talk quite young. Her vocabulary has always been much bigger than she is. And, she never stops talking. One of the greatest gifts is hearing her tell stories, or say words that mimic the people in her life. "That is so awesome! Wow, cool dude" Are just a few of the sentences that pop out. I don't remember the day or time when Scout started putting sentences together. As I look back, I feel as though she has been talking since she came out of the womb. But I know we had wordless communications. I know there were many a night that I stared at her while she slept and burst with joy when she smiled. Now, I threaten her with duct tape on occasion.

Sawyer, our youngest, has been slower to talk. Though you never have to guess what he is thinking, ever. He has puppy dog eyes and dimples, coupled with a huge laugh and mouth. Runs in the family (the big mouth). He is an amazing little athlete and can dribble a basketball better than most 5 years olds. Not bragging, its just cool. Some words starting forming about 1 year ago and he has been adding new ones to his vocabulary. This last weekend, we had a long Holiday. We spent a good amount of time with the kids. It has been really rewarding to see them mature into little people - and yes, it does happen overnight.

Something really neat happened last weekend and I am glad I was present to record it in my memory and my heart. Sawyer went from one-words to entire sentences in two days. It was quite remarkable. It was as if someone turned on a switch... and out came viable, smart sentences. It struck me. I was *right there* when he spoke his first actual sentence. He said "Watch Calliou first." And all of the sudden a whole new world has opened up with our son, just as it did with our daughter when she began speaking in full. I think one of Scout's first words, in the thick of the 2008 election, was "Obama." *grin*

Kids are so impressionable. They mimic and mime so much of what they see. They soak it all in. I'd like to try that. I think, as we grow older, we learn to tune things out, avoid, take detours. I'd like to be the sponge again, I'd like everything to be new and amazing. I strive for this each day (well, at least, most days). I don't want to tune things out anymore.

Non-verbal communication with my children taught me to listen. Verbal communication with my children has inspired me to be more like them, perhaps, less hardened and cynical.

What a gift.

RIGHT NOW

2011-10-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

It starts now. Scout has been in Kindergarten for about seven weeks. Adjusted beautifully, thriving and growing like crazy. I cannot keep her fed.

I got a call the other day from her teacher, during the day. My heart raced... "She's okay, don't worry!" I let out a sigh of relief. "Scout was on the playground when a first grader was chasing her. The boy said to Scout "I am going to kill you and your friends!" Say what? Her teacher continued, even thought I was saying, repeatedly, "What? How? Are you kidding me?" "Don't worry, she said, Scout did an amazing job. She reported him to myself and the class aid right away. She was able to speak with Mike, the Principle, and was congratulated for doing a great job for standing up for herself."

Bullying, starts now. I thought I would have years to prepare for this. Shaking my head, I replied "what is happening with the boy? Who is this kid anyway?" They are by law, not allowed to disclose or identify the child who created conflict. Lame. In my day, if a kid did something wrong, parents showed up on their doorstep and righted the situation. "I will tell you, that the child has been suspended." After Scout's teacher said this I felt somewhat better, that someone actually took this seriously, seeing as that I couldn't address it, with the offender. I asked, "does this child have any other offenses?" Well, actually, she replied, he does." I am shocked. "So you have all red flagged him, then, right?" She offered support, "yes, he actually has been red flagged. I just want to let you know, that Scout really did the right thing, and I wouldn't make too much of a big deal out of it when she gets home. Wait for her to tell you, and if she doesn't, bring it up, in a way that expresses how proud you are of her actions." I thought this was great advice.

Scout was proud of herself for handling the bully and doing what we have worked on with her over the last year, which is teaching her to speak up for herself. She did.

I am restless with this issue and experience. I think of her getting older and dealing with bullying. I knew it was a big problem, and kids are often awful to one another, I guess I just didn't see this coming at age 5.

To all the parents out there: It starts NOW. There is no timeframe for bullying. Bullying doesn't have a color, class or creed. There are varying degrees of bullying, and they should all be taken seriously.

I know the little boys name now. And yes, I will be watching him, very closely. I will also be visiting with the teachers and Principle to see how I can take an active role at the school, be present, educate myself and share this story.

LUCKIEST

2011-08-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

Scout started kindergarten last week. She was ready. I think I was too. She is fiercely independent and gutsy. What I didn't expect was to be so damn tired. After all, it wasn't me heading through the brand new walls of a big school. She is so graceful and brave. After three days, she has a boyfriend, whose name she doesn't remember. She has a favorite part of her day, and loves her teacher. She comes home with zest and fervor, stories and quips. She is so amazing.

Sawyer is boding well with all the ladies in his preschool. He is one of three boys and has seven girls in his class. I believe he has more than one girlfriend. If I ask him who he played with that day, his dimples light up and he shyly says "Sarah!" Each day, a different name. He is thriving at his school, and now, likes to race from the car to the door every morning. He thinks it is hilarious, actually. Saying goodbye is hard. I have had a really sweet spot for my baby this summer. Missing out on his milestones. Some days, I keep him home, because I cannot stand not being near him.

I feel so lucky to be their Mom. I can't imagine anything more beautiful and amazing. They are good kids. They are kind (most of the time) Sawyer bit me last week and left indefinite teeth marks. They are funny, wild, smart and brave. It was just yesterday, after Sawyer and I kissed and hugged Scout goodbye in front of her classroom, that Sawyer took to the big kids slide and caught about three feet of air. He landed on his feet and just looked up, smiled, knowing he had caught serious air.

One of my favorite parts of the day now, is actually, (well, not waking up) but once I am up and done pushing the snooze button, I get to go in and wake my kids up... and cuddle them into their day. I am oddly taken by this, as it has been, well, never, in my life that I enjoy waking up, or the mornings for that matter. Something is so sweet and soft about seeing them before they rise, stretch like little cubs, and rub their eyes (probably in disbelief that Mommy is actually waking them up). It is a special time.

So here we go... into a school year. The air getting crisper. The days shorter. The schedule comes back. I look forward to their stories continuing to unfold.

LIFE HAPPENS

2011-07-22T13:05:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to write about her until today. I had to let her go on February 26, 2011, with an aching heart and soul. Luna, my Co-pilot, was sick, for a short time and needed to be released.

I got Luna when I was an over-confident 24 year old. I had my own apartment, all of my Moms old furniture and a full time job. Yes, lets get a dog! I found her in the FREE section of a rag in San Diego, and went to meet her immediately. She was a shy, gentle little pup at six months old. The guy that had her didn't let her inside, ever, since he had her at 3 months old. She was all by herself. I put the leash on her and took her home. I named her Luna, after Julia Butterfly's Old Redwood Tree that she lived in for two years in the late 90's.

The first day she was with me she ate my couch, by feather bed and all my pillows. I put an ad in the paper "FREE PUPPY" and started getting phone calls the very next day. I couldn't have a dog that ate my stuff! What was I thinking! And then, she looked at me. She licked my face. She cuddled up next to me in bed and encouraged me to take her to Dog Park. I made a committment on the third day I had her, that she and I, were going to be partners. That I would be the BEST MOM EVER to her.

She was more than a dog. Seriously. She was an old soul with beautiful almond eyes, lined like Cleaopatras. She was soft and fast, had a fun sense of humor and hated men. At that time in my life, we agreed. She and I did everything together, and I was even able to bring her to work with me every day.

Dog Beach, in Ocean Beach, San Diego was our favorite place. We went almost every day. It was so fun to watch her run, run, run... prance, play and tease. She was a great tease.

Luna barked every single time a man walked through the door. Didn't matter whose door it was. She didn't like men. Led me to believe she had been mistreated by her original owner. No matter what I did,

I couldn't curb this behavior. She was determined to let the guys know she was not a fan.

We slept together in my bed each night. Plenty of nights in my early 20's I went to bed with tears and confusion over something. Wrong guy, wrong job, lonely, etc. Luna always licked my tears. One time, I remember she even licked me up off the floor when I didn't think I could get up because I was so sad.

In 2001, my best friend Amy picked me up, and drove me home to Denver, where I am origianlly from. Luna rode on my lap from San Diego to Denver - the entire way. She was about 40lbs.

We rolled into Denver, our new home and it was good to be home. Luna took to the squirrels and the hiking. Though, we did miss dog beach. We replaced the beach with rivers and snow, rain and digging holes in the backyard.

I was 29 living in a condo with Luna and a new guy came to take me out for a date. He rapped on the door, and when I let him in, Luna walked right up to him and greeted him, even with a bit of a lick. First time ever. I married him.

Luna was there to rest on my pregnant belly. She walked with me to and from the kitchen about 900,000 times. She loved to clean up after me! She played with her new brother, Levi the dog and made space for him in her life, even though she was the princess, and always my Co-pilot.

She welcomed Scout, my first daughter into our home and guarded her from morning until night and then the night through. She loved Scout. When I was pregnant with the second baby, she knew. She guarded me. But I could tell she was getting tired.

When Sawyer was born, she made more room for him. She took care of him and guarded both the kids, and I. She was getting more tired. But she managed to play with Levi, chase the squirrels, jump up in the car to take a ride with Daddy. She never let anyone see her down.

I noticed her body was changing. And she was sick. I took her to the vet and they suggested she might have cancer... or internal bleeding. They gave me steroids and I took her home, because it might be, I prayed, just a virus. I tucked the steroid in her mouth and she went to lay down, and didn't move for many hours. I hugged her and cried my eyes out. I held her. I thanked her. She got up to drink some water and fell. I knew what I had to do the very next morning.

We drove to the Dog Hospital at 7:00am the next morning. I couldn't see through my tears. She rode on my lap just as she did all the way from California 10 years earlier. We carried her inside and she laid down on a sleeping bag in a room. We stayed with her for awhile. I held her and talked with her and cried hard. My insides turning upside down. My literal soul shaking. I couldn't watch her go. I had to say goodbye before she went. I wanted to see her alive. And she licked my hand, when I made that decision as if she was telling me it was okay. I told her I would see her on the flip side. That I loved her more than I knew I could love. I know the Vet took her outside, so she could see the sky before she closed her eyes.

I had to run out of there and I vomited in the parking lot. For three straight months I cried every single day. Hard. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up, she was gone. Her absence was awful. Yet I knew, she was with me. It has only been just under 5 months and I want so badly to see her again. I miss her so much. I miss her eyes. I miss her prance. I miss her spirit.

I will never be the same after knowing and having Luna. I am so glad I made the commitment to be her Mom. We were together for a good long time. Fourteen years.... a lifetime and never, long enough.

I will scatter her ashes in many different places that we visited together. I often think, the life Luna and I lived together was so full and so much... and that has passed now. And that makes me so sad. And so proud of all the things we did together.

I love you Luna. You are my Co-Pilot.

SENSES

2011-01-18T16:51:00.000-08:00

Scout was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder about 8 weeks ago.

It started a while ago... we just thought she was being a pain in the ass 3 year old.

"NO! I won't wear underwear....
or my coat
or socks
or certain pants
or shoes that aren't tight enough
or pajamas
or blankets when I sleep"

I thought she was just exercising her independence. One day, back in August however, she said something to me that hoisted the big, red flag. "Mommy, I can't wear socks with writing on the bottom." WHAT?

So, I started doing some research and thank god for my friend Jen, who I just happened to be having lunch with on the 'sock day.' She described her sons issues around wearing clothes, or not wearing them, and it matched Scout exactly.

In a nutshell:

"Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD, formerly known as "sensory integration dysfunction") is a condition that exists when sensory signals don't get organized into appropriate responses. Pioneering occupational therapist and neuroscientist A. Jean Ayres, PhD, likened SPD to a neurological "traffic jam" that prevents certain parts of the brain from receiving the information needed to interpret sensory information correctly. A person with SPD finds it difficult to process and act upon information received through the senses, which creates challenges in performing countless everyday tasks. Motor clumsiness, behavioral problems, anxiety, depression, school failure, and other impacts may result if the disorder is not treated effectively."

Next step - total panic. "Its my fault. I haven't been a good enough parent." I walked around saying this to myself for a few days - and then got over myself. Why do we always make it about US?

Made an appointment for Scout at Childrens Hospital. We had to wait two long weeks before the appointment. When you kid won't wear clothes, this is kind of a long time.

I started reading and tried to stay calm. Some Sensory Processing Disorders are related to ADD, ADHD as well as certain forms of Autism. I was terrified and I had no information except what I was reading online.

The day of the evaluation at Childrens, I was a basket case. We made it into the waiting room and I had to go stand outside. Kids were coming out in wheel chairs, and some, not even old enough to sit up straight in a wheel chair were being wheeled out the door - and the moms and dads were STANDING? How, I do not know. I was aching for all the people I saw that day and so scared about what Sensory Processing Disorder would mean to our family and to Scout?

We got to sit in a room with a double pane of glass and watch a Physical Therapist work with Scout on several activities for 2 hours. Scout was so amazing during this process. She did so well.

When the evaluation was over, we left with this:

"Children's Hospital has a 6 month waiting list. We will send you our findings."
I was beside myself. No tools. No answers. Nothing.

So, I started doing more research and found a place that I could take Scout to once I had the finding - which we were fairly certain, that yes, Scout did have SPD.

We have taken to therapy once a week. Therapy includes a lot of heavy work and crashing. Jumping, hopping, lifting, pulling, climbing, falling into pillows. She LOVES it. It also includes a Sensory Diet. Not food related, but homework, essentially. We do BRUSHING THERAPY three/four times a day. Basically, take a soft bristled brush and literally brush Scout's arms, legs, back and feet. We do trampoline jumps, and crashing, hopping, skipping and tons more at home, every day.

Scout has turned into a TOTALLY different little girl. She is pleasant and we don't fight. Prior to the diagnosis and therapy, everything was a battle. As you can imagine? You cannot make your kid go to school, or anywhere else, without clothes?

Scout is flourishing. She is COMFORTABLE!!!!! She is sleeping. She wore NEW PANTS every single day last week (I bribed her) but it worked. She is wearing SOCKS. She is wearing HER COAT. I don't hear "Im uncomfortable" anymore. Which was her #1 word for MONTHS.

We feel really great that we jumped on this and didn't brush it off. I am so thankful that we have found a great place to take her for therapy. SPD can be turned around - we are here to tell you. We are really lucky that we got her in early... they can work faster and changes come quicker (for some). I am so proud of her.

These are the moments and days, weeks and years of parenthood, you don't prepare for... you can't.

MAXED OUT

2011-01-18T16:14:00.000-08:00

In a feeble attempt to cook dinner last week, I burned my nipple. I should never go in the kitchen again.

Sawyer started vomiting on Friday and didn't stop until after we took him to the emergency room on Friday. While I was cleaning up the putrid mess, and steam cleaning the carpet, I had a sudden feeling that something wasn't right. The steam cleaner seemed to be bubbling. It never did that...

Instead of pouring the carpet cleaner into the steam cleaner, I used DRANO. To clean the carpet. I didn't realize this until the carpet, was clean.

Working. Raising Kids. Dogs. Husband = I AM MAXED OUT...

However, it does provide for good laughs... and I am not embarrassed to admit my shortcomings.

A BEAUTIFUL MESS

2010-11-30T19:48:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I swore that I would write once a week. HA! That lasted a week.

Now lets get real.

Parenthood is the most abusive relationship I have ever known.

Let me tell you why:

You love your kids so much it hurts and you cannot wait to get away from them - some of the time.
When you go out without your kids, what happens? Yeah, you talk, think and worry about the kids.
They make you cry with joy and burn with anger within a matter of 10 seconds.
From what I have learned thus far, our own kids are typically awful to us and perfect for most who watch after them. This is just not right.
They pull at our hearts and our wallets and that can never be a good combination.
They keep us up at night, wake us early and then they don't nap. How is this healthy?
They smile, giggle, beg for more tickles and kisses and we beg for more time with them.
At night, I watch them sleep, when it finally happens and I beg for them not to grow up too fast.
When I drop them off at school in the morning I usually drive over the speed limit on my way out of the parking lot because I have some time to myself. What do I do? I go back to look in the window and watch them.

How is this healthy? Parenthood. Seriously? Wow. No one could have ever prepared me, no matter what... ever. Its too big. Too massive. Too overpowering. The things you think you have under control... HA! Funny, not even close.

Sawyer is just about 18 months now and is the boy that will forever get whatever he wants if I have anything to do with it. He has dimples. Enough said. Well, is it? No, because I am his Mom. I want to say more. He is mellow and hilarious. He laughs and his nose crinkles up and his grin is bigger than a slice of watermelon. He walks and points and says DUCK. He is charming and really just so fun. I am so blessed. He snuggles and loves books, eats like a truck driver and loves his sister.

Scout is 4 1/2 now and has turned into a kid. She is .... well... she is a pain in my thankful ass. I love her. She is wild and carefree and worried and passionate and impatient and silly and sad and SMART as hell. She says the most beautiful things. "Mom, will you still be my mom when I die?" Helll-o? Help me off of the floor. When she said that I nearly fell over. Wow. So lucky. She is my girl. She and I will always go at it. When she is a teenager, I am thinking of boot camp. If she is anything like me, I don't want her near ANYTHING. But I hear keeping your kids locked in a closet is kind of illegal. So, I have to figure something out and quick.

What does it take every day to be their Mom? More patience than I have for sure. More energy that I could ever wish for. Wine.

And, at the end of the day, when they are safe, home, asleep or awake, I know how lucky I am. So, lucky.

Life is so beautifully messy...

SHOPPING

2010-04-23T00:07:00.000-07:00

Scout woke up whining today. This is not unusual as of late. It has become part of her hobby. It pains me every time she opens her mouth. I fear out of it will come that shrill that sends me over the edge. I am uncertain as to why kids whine. I now "get" why my parents always said 'Stop the WHINING!' It has come full circle. Happy Mom and Dad?

This early morning Scout made it clear she wasn't feeling well. She wanted to stay home. She wanted to be in bed and rest. This is never, ever the case. She is raring to go. Today, I let her stay home under the guise that she was sick. I knew she wasn't. I know, she just wanted to be taken care of. She's a little envious of her little brother who gets most of the Mommy time these days.

I try to balance - though it is really hard. I mean, Scout can pee and eat by herself now.

Imagine, how much time I spend wiping butts and feeding? So, these days I happen to be spending a lot of time with Sawyer. It's the nature of the game.

I decided I would take the kids shopping (don't ask) for some summer clothes. It was a really poor decision. Today, Scout landed in the size 5 section. If you are a Mom, you understand. She graduated from toddler-hood right before my eyes. The 4T was no longer. We had to go into a dressing room for the first time in her life. I almost had a nervous breakdown - burst into tears... but I just went with it.

Taking Scout shopping was about as fun as getting poked in the eye repeatedly with a sharp, glassy object. She doesn't like zippers. She hates "pants" with buttons. She doesn't like things that fit too tight or too lose. She doesn't like the things I like. She won't wear anything with an itchy tag. She pissed and moaned through several changings. I am certain, I am that Mom that other people look at and hate. "Does she REALLY treat her kids like that?!" Yes, I do. I had her facing the wall in time out in the middle of the store with no shame. I publicly retracted her movie privileges all in the name of summer clothes. She is exactly like her Dad.

The first time I took him shopping, soon after we had met, I almost died of boredom and impatience. But that is a whole other story.

Scout is going to have to wear the clothes we bought her today until she goes to High School - if I have to take her shopping anytime before that, it'll be too soon.

DIMPLES

2010-03-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

He has dimples. And he is a boy. So, I am pretty much a sucker for the rest of my life.

See, in our house, since Scout was born almost 4 years ago, I have been the 'bad cop.' Because, Bob is a sucker for Scout, the little girl in the house. I play 'bad cop' with her and Daddy, is well, the 'good cop.' If she blinks... he does whatever she wants. It doesn't work on me. Or, lets just say - not all the time.

Now, with Sawyer and his dimples, I can see Bob's dilemma. So, perhaps this Mama gets to be a 'good cop' with Sawyer and he can be the 'bad cop.'

Sawyer is all boy now. He has two teeth on the bottom and two coming in on top. He is just shy of 9 months. He is rough and tumble. He giggles. He loves his sister. He thinks she is the coolest. When they giggle together, everything, everything makes sense to me. Those are my favorite moments - when my kids are giggling together.

He is on the verge of crawling and life as I know it will get busier then it already is. He is going to move fast, there is no doubt.

He is finally sleeping in his own crib - not through the night - but he is IN A CRIB... its a start. Co-sleeping is a beautiful thing. 9 months is a LONG time to not sleep through the night. Soon, the boy will learn to self-soothe, I am hoping.

He is a doll baby. And he is HUGE. He weighs almost 20 lbs. which Scout didn't weigh until after her 1st birthday. I do believe he is going to be tall like his Daddy! It is a pleasure to watch him learn each day. He is in the mode where everyday he has a new trick. Pretty soon, he and Scout will be stealing the car.

I love being their Mom.

BODY PARTS

2010-03-26T10:06:00.000-07:00

I never realized that I would be talking with my daughter about her vagina so early in life. It is surprising to me. I figured we would be having body part conversations when she was just a tad older. Not so much!

We use the word Vagina because I do not want to trivialize body parts. It isn't a 'pee-pee,' or a 'wee-wee,' or 'down there.' It is a Vagina. I decided this early on, maybe before I even had kids that I wouldn't use words that didn't explain and describe the body just as it is.

Scout is curious. She's almost 4. And, one of the funniest things happened the other day. Grandma Liz took Scout to the store for a Pineapple. On their way out, Scout asked to ride the little motorized horse. You know the one... by the door? Grandma lifts her up and drops in the dime. (Yes, you can still get something for a dime)

The ride begins and all of the sudden Scout starts laughing hysterically! Grandma asks, "what is so funny, Scout?" "It tickles my V.A.G.I.N.A Grandma!" Let's just say I am glad I wasn't there. I think, from what I am told, that the entire grocery store went silent. My Mom burst out laughing and so did everyone else.

Clearly, Scout is aware of her body. And, I am getting her a chastity belt, pronto!

A WORLD AWAY

2010-01-28T14:00:00.000-08:00

Scout received a beautiful hat, purse and scarf from my Grandmother and Aunt this year for Christmas. Why am I blogging about this?

My Grandma and Aunt live in New Zealand. It is a long, long way away. My father is from New Zealand and so I have had the good fortune to visit on several occasions. My last visit was in October of 2005. I jumped on a plane with 24 hours notice to my Dad, who was living there then, my Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt Shirley. It was a whim and I knew I had to go; Grandpa was dying.

I spent my life knowing very little about these people. I got cards and gifts at Holiday time and talked with them on the phone a few times through the years. Yet, they were a world away. It was hard to stay connected.

When I went in 2005 I fell in love with my family that I hadn't known most of my life. We had the grandest time, so much laughter and silliness! It was a true reunion and one that I think about almost every day. It took me months to come to terms with what an asshole I'd been over the years - not keeping in touch, not really giving it much thought. When I had to say goodbye to them, I cried for 17 hours - pretty much the entire flight home. I told my Grandpa 'I'd seem him on the other side.' He died soon after. I promised myself that I would 'keep in touch' better and call more when I left. I did, for about 1 year... and then my calls dwindled. My emails to New Zealand became more and more sparse. I hated being so far away from the people that I loved!

Back to the scarf. It is the most lovely set. And without having to DEMAND that Scout wear it, she came out of her room the other day wearing all of it. She looked so adorable. What was tough was that I wanted my Grandma and Aunt Shirl to see her. It broke my heart that they couldn't see how proud she was to wear her little outfit.

Later that evening, I talked to Grandma on the phone. Scout curiously romped toward me and asked "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO MAMA?" I quickly tried to explain "I am talking to your Great-Grandma, you know, the one that bought you the beautiful hat, scarf and purse you wore today!" Scout grabbed the phone and mumbled into it. Grandma didn't understand what she was saying but I know it meant the world to her. When I told her about Scout wearing her gift, I know that also meant the world to her.

Scout and I cuddled that night after we hung up the phone. She was inquisitive. "Mommy, how come we can't see Great Grandma?" Oh, my heart fell. "Honey, Grandma lives very, very far away" I responded. "Does she live this far away" Scout held her arms wide apart. "Yes, honey, she does, she lives that far away."

Knowing that her concept of space and location wasn't going to grasp distance I tried to redirect the conversation. "But, how come Great Grandma doesn't come to see me?" And then the tears started to roll. "Well, Scout, Great Grandma is a little bit too old to fly on an airplane. She is 92 years old" I beamed! This didn't seem to matter to Scout. "Im old too Mommy" she said. I chuckled. The ripe old age of three.

The next day we drove toward preschool and Scout started again. "Mommy, why is Great Grandma old" she asked. Well, honey, people get old. Time passes.... " and then of course, tears rolled again. I am pretty sure that Scout won't get to meet her Great Grandma. This crushes me. She lives a world apart and it has been something I have known all my life. I never got to REALLY know my Grandma and Grandpa. I am sad for Scout and Sawyer. As I know what it is like to grow up not knowing about your family - and sometimes, until it is too late.

We are so blessed that Scout and Sawyer now have all of their Grandparents. They interact with Grandma Lizzie and Poppy Ray several times a week. They know Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Rod. It is really, out of this world, special. Bob and I didn't have access and or time to our Grandparent's growing up. We value these relationships big time.

I cried in the parking lot of Scout's preschool that day. Wishing, wishing that Great Grandma could just do one more flight... just one more.

LOVE AFFAIR

2010-01-28T10:42:00.000-08:00

She was a newborn when she fell in love and it was like nothing we have ever seen. The way she looked when she learned to manipulate them was priceless.

She cooed and giggled when she played with them, never, ever letting one out of her site.

We often referred to her as 'Maggie' and if you are familiar with the longest running show on television, then you know who I am talking about. You could hear her all the way in the other room... SUCK... SUCK... SUCK.

She wasn't content unless she had at least four of them with her at all times. Especially at night, when she would put one on her finger, one in her mouth and two over her eyes. She often looked like she was getting a spa treatment in her crib.

Bob and I encouraged the relationship because it would keep her calm, entertain her and cut down on the noisy whining that occurred if she didn't have them.

When she and I co-slept they were the perfect snooze button. She would whimper... I would fumble around to find one, plug it in her mouth and she was good for another ten minutes of snoozing.

As time passed the relationship grew stronger. Bob and I got a little worried. "Do you think we should stop this?" I'd ask him on a regular basis. "Nah, she'll figure it out... it's just a phase." We let it go. Meanwhile, we admired the bond she had formed at such a young age.

The love affair didn't seem to wane after time... it only grew stronger. No matter where we went, she had to have them. It got to the point that if we forgot to bring them with us she would have a breakdown. It was an extra effort to make sure we always had them with us. We kept them in the glove compartment, our coat pockets, purse, diaper bag; you name it. We had them stashed so she would never be without.

When they ALL went missing we played a game. Theflashlights came out and the search was on. We had contests to see how many we could find. We would clap and march and celebrate when we examined our collection at the end of our search.

And then... it was time. It was time to for her to quit the relationship. She didn't like the idea of change. What would she do at night time, when she was daydreaming in her bed just before sleep? What would she do in the car? How would she manage? We felt bad that we had to start putting the breaks on this love affair. She was just getting too old.

We marked the calendar for December 26th, 2009. That was the day that the affair would end. We talked about it and referred to this day often. We wanted her to know how serious we were about her ending her affair. She would pout when we brought it up. She would sometimes be proud that, yes, indeed, she was going to give them up!

On December 26th, 2009 we collected all of them. We put them in a Tupperware bowl on the shelf. She didn't blink an eye. She was ready to move forward without regret or hesitation. Bob and I shook our heads in disbelief? "She is so strong" I said to Bob. After I said that I realized, it was our love affair. It was everything 'baby.' It represented her infancy and toddler years. We rarely saw her without them. It was harder on us than it was on her! I actually cried when I realized she had moved on without a blink... and we were the ones holding on... so tightly.

She hasn't looked back and it was a love affair we will never forget.

FIGHT

2009-11-08T18:43:00.000-08:00

It goes something like this:

7:45 A.M.
"Scout, its time to get ready for preschool. I laid out your outfit, can you please get dressed?"

Scout runs around the house and screams with laughter. She goes into the romper room and gets her red tricycle. She turns it around and zips back down the hall, naked. "Look at me Mommy!" I should be proud, right? She's riding her bike. She's good at it. NOPE. I'm not proud, I am annoyed.

"Scout, you need to get dressed! C'mon!"

She tears back into the romper room and parks her bike. Then, its quiet. I peek out from my bedroom, where I am changing Sawyer's diaper, tickling him and listening to him coo. "Scout, where are you?" I hear giggles. So, I bite. "Wheeeeeeereeeeesss SCOUT!" I wander into the living room and see the blanket moving on the floor. I go and touch it with my toe, right in her tickle spot. "I can't seem to find Scout! I wonderrrrr where she is?"   "I'm right here MOMMY!" She is so excited and I am less annoyed.

"Scout, can you get dressed... now? Otherwise, we are going to be late!" I am certain my tone is harsh by the third time around. Scout manages to yank a pair of pants on. Not the ones I laid out the night before. And she has forgotten underwear; a tiny matter I decide to overlook.

"Mommy, do you want to color with me?" She's already working on a masterpiece and has marker all over her tummy and hands. "Scout, you need to get dressed, RIGHT NOW!"

She marches back to her room with her bottom lip so contorted it makes me smile.   "NO MOMMY, I DON'T WANT TO GO!"   She drops to the floor. I feel as though I should applaud. Her dramatic performance is hands down the best I have seen.

8:19 A.M.
"Scout, can you get dressed? Its time to go to school." She is laying on her bedroom floor kicking the wall. I hear Sawyer crying... I need to breastfeed. I rip my top off because I'm hot and its easier to nurse this way. Scout comes in and starts poking at Sawyer's head. "Gooo goo gaga! Baby Sawyer!" She loves her brother. "Honey, go and get dressed or you are going to be in BIG TROUBLE!" I try to sound mean and ugly. She hides in my closet and giggles.

I finish nursing Sawyer and then he needs another diaper change. I try to brush my hair and encourage Scout to brush hers. I brush my teeth and beg Scout to "wash her teeth really, really well!" Still, no socks, no top. But teeth are brushed and hair is, well, not pointing straight up.

Scout manages to pull a shirt over her head and very proud of herself. She pulled together her own outfit. I wince. Its painful. Its hideous. It hurts to look at her. She has green pants and a purple and pink shirt on. I don't say anything. I am happy she is dressed, finally!

"Scout, honey put some shoes on and then we can go!" She whines. "Mommy, my socks aren't working! There AREN'T working!" She takes her socks off and melts into the ground. By now, I am worn out.

8:46 A.M.
Scout walks outside without her socks wearing brown boots that do not help her outfit. She is carrying her coat because she is too hot to wear it. When she gets into the car she turns cold and insists I "help her with her coat!" I do. I hoist Sawyer up into his seat and I feel a small victory. Both kids are in the car and I can get Scout to school. We have a five-mile drive.

I consult my mommy checklist before I start the engine.

Does Saywer have his binkie?
Does Scout have her breakfast bar? (No we don't sit down and eat breakfast in the morning- need I explain why?)
Do I have my phone, my purse, my tea?
Are Luna and Levi the dogs with us? (We take the for the ride every morning)
Do I have the diaper bag?
Does Scout have her water bottle?
Do we have gas in the car?

9:10 A.M.
We drive. We talk about the 'rules of the road' and Scout is convinced everyone goes to fast. We talk about her friends at preschool. Sawyer is quiet and enjoys the ride. Scout mentions that she is tired and she talks about naptime with excitement. We talk about our family and friends. She asks questions. Sometimes the ride is quiet. Sometimes, she talks to Sawyer. Its mostly peaceful.

9:29 A.M.
Scout loves her preschool. I feel really good about dropping her off. When I sign her in I have no hesitations about leaving her. I think she feels the same way. She is glad to be with her friends and I am glad to return to Sawyer, who doesn't talk or defy me, yet. I get in the car... and I miss Scout.

Every single morning we do this. Some mornings are more difficult and others. Some mornings I physically dress her myself because I cannot stand the fight. I know she is asserting herself. She is testing me, always. She is learning who she is. And with this, I am learning how very bad I am at this stage of parenting. Its not my best time. I grow impatient easily. Letting go of control (not that I had any) and letting her walk out of the house looking like she got dressed in the dark is very, very hard for me. SHE SHOULD MATCH, I think to myself. Why do I care if she matches?

She is trying to play... and I don't know how to play. I know how to create 'order.'

The thing is, there isn't much order in a three year old universe. Nor should there be; at least not as much as I try to instill. I am learning to let go... one minute at a time.

10:00 A.M.

UNPREPARED

2009-10-31T14:53:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, why did Sophia's Dad die?" Sophia is Scout's friend at preschool who lost her dad to suicide at the age of three. I could see and feel myself drop to my knees in my minds eye. The sensation that ran through me was foreign. I hadn't planned on answering questions relating to death, not to a three year old. Not now. I opened my mouth... and it all came pouring out. "Honey, Sophia's Dad was really sick. He died because he was really sick" I tried to explain. "But why he died" Scout asked again. Bob chimed in; "honey, Sophia's Daddy was very, very sick. He died because he was so sick." Scout still pondered. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over. "But why he died?" She was being persistent.

I let it go... fast and furious it poured out of my mouth. "Honey, we ALL die. It is just part of life. We ALL die." I could HEAR Bob's eyes burning through me. And I kept going. "Sophia's Daddy died... but you are so very lucky to have YOUR Daddy."

Scout was sucking her binky and her eyes so very tired. It was edging upon 10:00 p.m. far past her bedtime.
"Why we ALL die?" She continued. I backpedaled. "It's okay honey, you are so lucky to have your Daddy! Sophia is sad, isn't she? She misses her Daddy, and we all just have to be thankful."

What in the hell am I doing? I am telling a 3 year old that WE ALL DIE! I hate myself for this. She doesn't need to know this yet. My reasoning was this: I want to be honest and upfront with her about life. I swore I would. But not about this. Not now.

"But where did he go" Scout asked.

Now how do I explain this?

"He went up to heaven honey, he is in the sky. People go to heaven when they die." I hate myself for saying this. I don't believe this nor does it have any meaning to a 3 year old. "He floated up to the sky!" I said with reverence! The hole I was digging was just getting deeper.

And that was it. Tears were streaming down my face. "Why you crying Mommy" Scout asked concerned. Why am I crying? I am kicking myself inside. I'm losing control of this conversation and I know Bob is upset with me for blurting out "We ALL die." I'm upset with me to.

"It's okay honey, I'm just sad for Sophia not having a Daddy. But Sophia is so lucky to have you as a friend Scout! And you are so lucky to have a Mommy and Daddy and we both love you so much!"

And as fast and furious as the conversation started, it was over. I felt broken. How, on earth do we tell our babies about death and sickness, pain and suffering? Or do we? How much are we supposed to protect them from the difficult realities of life? Part of my comittment to telling my children 'straight up' is that my parents were SO brilliant at keeping my brother and I "protected." It was magical how they protected us. did a left us; and it left us unprepared for *real life.* I don't resent it. I just imagined I would do it a bit different.

And now, I can't take it back.

We all DIE... this is true. That reality alone makes me choke up. And I am angry with myself that I couldn't be more clever and discerning with Scout. More prepared. More sensitive.

This conversation happened on my 36th birthday - right as I had been thinking about my own mortality and not being around for my children. The worst, very worst possible thought of missing them, growing and changing and navigating through this life.

We have no guarantees... this I know. But I am hanging on as tight a I can, trying to soak up every minute, good, bad and indifferent. Because... this is ALL we get. This ONE life. Because we ALL DIE... and every minute counts. And my children taught me this.

MASSIVE

2009-10-12T10:53:00.000-07:00

The world that has opened up as a result of my children is extreme in every way. It feels as if I have unlocked a door that has never been opened; I see colors that I have never seen.

The pitch of their screams pricks my ears up and registers a heartbeat that could literally bounce from my chest. When they laugh, I am elevated. When they hurt, I feel their pain in places I didn't know existed. When they learn I sometimes feel as though I see their beautiful wings spreading and I want to explode from joy and sadness at the same time.

The parenthood experience is massive.

Scout is like a miniature teenager girl. She knows what she wants. She is bitchy. She is darling and wild. She slams doors. She pouts. She isn't confident in her ability to tell people what she needs. She is hilarious and sweet. And this is all before 8:00 a.m. She challenges every part of my being every single day. She forces my sweeter side out and brings Daddy's tougher side up. How can one, little girl do this? She is amazing.

Sawyer is talking with no words and smiling out loud. His dimples make my heart sing. He is still an innocent baby. Sure to grow into his own and challenge us in ways we have yet to see. His innocence is part of what I adore about babies. They are not from this world. He has just hit the mark where he is becoming more demanding and vocal. He wants to do things now. He has expectations.

When I say 'Bending Through Motherhood' I mean it. I have to duck, rise, bend, form, gel, stretch, blend, grow. I am so glad for this.

Without this parenthood experience I wonder what kind of person I would be now? I am so thankful for the challenges and the yoga that has to be performed in order to be Scout and Sawyer's mom. Stretching oneself, I hear is a good thing.

I am stretching.... reaching.... and with them I do see the *stars* and the so-called-fairy tales are alive.

SPEED

2009-09-29T16:39:00.000-07:00

I am astounded at how fast time passes. Always have been. When I was eight years old I worried I was getting old. When you have kids for some reason time speeds up. There is a no-stopping requirement for being a parent. You don't ever stop, unless you are sleeping and that is if you are lucky. If you are ALWAYS moving then time moves with you.

I looked at Scout's feet in the bath tub last night and they are almost as big as my whopping size 6. If she is ready to outgrow my feet, what's next? She is so proud. She keeps telling me "Mommy, you need to eat 5 fruits and vegetables everyday so you can get big and strong." How do I break it to her that I am as big as I am going to get? She is so good about eating and drinking her milk. At her age, I could swear I hid food in my mouth and spit it out when no one was looking. She actually reaches for carrots and pears. What is going on here?

Sawyer on the other hand is growing by leaps and bounds. He is tipping the scale at 12 lbs. 9oz. I cannot imagine my life without him and he has been with us for three months. I feel like I have known him forever. His smile is stunning. When he looks at us his eyes sparkle and it opens my heart up and pulls it out of my chest. I never knew I could love as much as I love these children. They have so much spirit and so much soul.

Sawyer enjoys watching Scout do everything... and Scout likes the fact that she always has an audience. He is going to be very impressionable and I know Scout will watch out for him. He is the gentler soul, like Bob; patient and soft. Scout - is the electricity in the house. We work hard to keep up with her. She NEVER stops talking... ever. Bob and I sometimes look at each other over dinner with speaking and knowing eyes "holy shit, we need a break!"

Both kids make time go by too fast. I want to bottle it. Hold it. Pause it. Stop it. I want to watch them, hold them, take mental pictures... I don't want it to go so fast. I try to take as many pictures as possible. I review the days in my head before I go to sleep (when I sleep) though they all meld together like one big fat ball of play-doh.

The best I can do is be thankful for today. It is all ANY OF US HAVE. When the kids are with me, which is almost always... I relish, even when I am having 'one of those days...' I know they are going to grow up fast. Scout wants to wear make-up and I betcha, Sawyer already wants to be just like his big sister.

I'm going to hold tight to today. Really freakin' tight.

BUBBLE

2009-09-23T21:31:00.000-07:00

I want to blow a bubble around my children and keep them protected. I have so much hand sanitizer in my house I could open my own store. The older I have gotten, the more germapheobic I have become. I am *that* woman who uses the paper towel to exit public restrooms. I spray Lysol on all of our door knobs, handles, light switches, chairs; if it doesn't move, it gets sprayed. I used to loathe people like me. I thought they were 'soooo uptight!'

So back to the bubble. Scout has been sick on and off for weeks. She came home with 'Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease' when the Doctor told me it was so, I almost passed out. For some reason in my head, I thought she was referring to 'Foot and Mouth Disease.' They sound pretty similar. I was more familar with the ladder, which is deadly, hence, almost passing out. The one Scout contracted was a virus that would pass, but not quietly. She was up for nights pissed off that she couldn't 'suck her binkie' because she had blisters in her mouth. Scout not being able to suck her binkie is like a heroin addict not being able to shoot up. Sorry, its true. We had some long, long nights. She got better... and then... got sick again just a few weeks later, which is NOW.

She has had a bacterial infection that has made her sicker than I have ever seen her. She has been miserable. So, when you have a miserable kid, you are miserable - simple as that. She has been down for one week tomorrow. Life has somewhat paused. We have been trying to nurse her back to health. Pre-school has been out of the question - so Mommy has been spending a lot of time at home with Scout. Mommy needs a drink.

Sawyer, somehow has missed it all. He sleeps and when he is awake he flirts and smiles, fills his diaper and then goes back to sleep. I am so happy that he is moving past Scout's illnesses. I am not sure what I would do with .... nevermind. I am not even going to write it.

Since we have been watching a lot of movies, Scout has already made it into "Elmo's Christmas." At first, I didn't think it was a big deal. Now, I hate myself. Why? Because Scout has asked me everyday for the last week when Santa is coming. It's September 23rd. I'm going to cry. There are 93 days before Christmas... She also asked me "If I stay asleep, will Santa come?" YUP. "Yes, honey, great idea! only 92 days to go!"

Scout also asked if she could get a bird for Halloween. So, the Holiday's are eeking upon us. I have a feeling picking out a Halloween costume will be a big event this year.

But I still want to blow a bubble around my family. I don't want to see my kids sick anymore. My friend Jen keeps reminding me they are like little petrie dishes. So, that anti-bacterial stuff stays for now as does the Lysol. I will just continue being *that* annoying germ-phobe.

Here's to better health....

WHO SHE IS...

2009-09-20T16:34:00.000-07:00

This is another post I discovered:

How in the hell can I expect to catch up on 8 months worth of being a Mom? I haven't written a word - except for on the grocery list or in emails.

Scout is 8 months old, just shy. She is the best buddy, laughs out loud, is a wonderful baby and has just learned to take her own bottle instead of the breast.

What a journey so far. Breastfeeding for 8 months... and she is finally weaned herself. Which leaves me... totally confused and hormonally crazed. O, to be a woman! I have postpartum depression and excitement at the same time.

Tonight, I am bleaching my teeth (not allowed when pregnant or breastfeeding) and I am taking vitamins that I wasn't allowed to take before. What a celebration, eh?

The things we take for granted!

The last 8 months have been a whirlwind of mommyhood, confusion, diapers, breastfeeding, new toys, snuggles, car rides, late nights, early mornings, Fraggle Rock, giggles, showers, squeaky toys (not for the dogs), lots of wondering "what should I be doing now" ... feeling out of place and not knowing where I fit. Bean bags, bumbo chairs, constipation, Dr.'s visits, 0-3, 3-6, how many lbs? Is she crawling YET? Does she have teeth YET? I tell everyone "NO.. I am trying to stunt her growth, I don't want her to move!"

Scout Elizabeth Kingsley is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me ... next to my husband Bob. Of course, we both wonder..."What did we do before Scout was born?" Now, we are totally satisfied to watch her - DO ANYTHING. She is a good girl. We are lucky!

She smiles when she wakes up. She talks NON-STOP. She sleeps through the night. She cries only when she needs something. She is friendly and loves people. She is kind. She is thoughtful, you can tell. She is a good eater. She watches and observes well and is quite intelligent (I know I am biased!) But she is!

Her Dad is the best Dad there is. He is so active with her and so engaging and wonderful. She LOVES her Daddy! He use to put her on his shoulder and she would fall asleep - for about 2 months that is the only place she wanted to be at night. He was so proud of that. She, like so many things, grew out of that fast. Now, she cuddles her bottle, she has learned to sleep on her tummy. She is calm when we change her diaper. She looks more adorable in overalls than I ever thought possible.

She is my life. She is our life. There isn't a night that I don't tuck her in that I am not thanking the stars and the moon for her. I love to watch her sleep. Her eyelashes are so beautiful and long.

I make up nursery rhymes because I don't know them well. And it is okay.

She watches TV (for children) and I am okay with it. She loves it.

She hates "tummy time"...

She loves the food I make. Oh, did I mention I make her baby food? I am proud of that.

Her first Babysitter was Aunt Amy when Bob and I went to see Dave Matthews in August 06.

She is surrounded by people that love her so much.

Grandpa Ray and Grandma Liz are over the moon.

We all are.

CREVICES

2009-09-20T16:29:00.000-07:00

So, I had ambition at some point when Scout was eight months and younger. I started a blog that I had forgotten all about. Did I mention that when you become a Mom the crevices of your brain get very dark and you are lucky if you can formulate sentences? Yes, its true. And most people think women are just making excuses for the total inability to recall, anything. Trust me, we aren't. It is painful not being able to remember if you actually peed while you were sitting on the toilet - or did you just think about peeing?

Here is what I wrote:

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Six Months...
She is six months now... our daughter. I have gone six months without recording a single thing - except to memory, which, I will inevitably forget. This will be the first "blogging" I have done since the Miscarriage Blog. It is time to get back up on the literary horse here and record life from a whole new perspective.

Scout has grown out of her 1st onesie, shit up her back more than once, kept us up many a night, rolled over, burped so loud I thought it was impossibly funny, pulled the dogs ears, laughed until my heart cried, screamed until I thought I would lose it, splashed about like a fish in the tub, rubbed food all over her face, stole her Daddies heart, stole the show EVERYWHERE, reminded me that my life is no longer my own.

It has all happened so fast. Born in July 06' we knew we were lucky. We tried hard to get Scout. We had no problem getting pregnant - but staying knocked up was another story. Once we finally overcame two miscarriages - we were blessed with little monkey. Now, our lives are different. I have NO idea who I was or what I did before Scout and now, I am on the path to discover what is ahead. Life as a Mom is undeniably the most powerful part of life that I have experienced. So, now a new journey. Lot's of new journeys.

CATCHING UP

2009-09-18T10:31:00.001-07:00

For three years I have told myself that I needed to write down everything that was happening with Scout, our daughter. I swore I would remember everything and I would catch up and keep a journal. I promised myself I would scrapbook and record every coo, poo and triumph. I failed. And I don't remember. I cannot crawl deep enough into the crevices of my Mommy Brain and pull the memories out. It is frustrating to no end. I cannot remember what her first sound was or how she looked when she was sad. I only know the now.

And before its too late, I am going to start TODAY writing about the amazing, the mundane, the funny, the hard; how I 'Bend Through Motherhood.'

We have two kids. Scout and Sawyer. They both live up to their names. Explorers, adventurers, strong willed and also unique. Scout is 3 and Sawyer is 12 weeks. We named them before we had them - in fact, years before we got pregnant they had their names. My husband and I never doubted we would have a 'Scout and a Sawyer.' Well, maybe briefly after we had Scout we wondered about a Sawyer... but then, POOF! He came! And we are so glad!

We are not unique. We are a four person family, six if you count the dogs. We live humbly and simply. I am proud of this *now* but it has taken me some time to learn how to do this. It has taken me some time to learn how to *do* a lot. So I don't forget and make false promises to myself, I will write. I will record. I will rant and rave, and this will be our scrapbook. I regret I didn't do this earlier and I am so glad that I am doing it now.

ROOST

2008-12-04T14:04:00.000-08:00

Scout has more energy than a … a … anything or anyone I have ever known.

She is a firecracker. Whip smart and has the memory of an elephant. This can be a good and bad trait. After finding her standing on her head consistently, we enrolled her in gymnastics. It has been great to return to the gym to watch our daughter tumble!

She says big words and bob and I shake our heads… how? when? What? Time blazes by. She is in preschool at an in home program called ‘Little Crickets.’ Thriving, with friends and projects galore, we are thrilled to see her so happy.

Sawyer made his way into the world this July and has been a very, very mellow baby. He is definitely Bob’s son. He doesn’t complain, he sleeps well and is developing a very sweet personality. He and Scout have started playing together and laughing; before we know it they will be plotting to sneak out of the house and steal the car. We are so thrilled to have a home full of such chaos, laughter, noise and love.

Bob has been promoted three times in his near five years at the Department of Energy, Renewable. He is one of the only ones in the country with a bullet proof job thanks to some of the stimulus money that headed his way in March. Work has been busy, rewarding (he tells me so) and because of all the growth there has been a lot of change in his office. From small-ish and quaint to seeing people in the hallway he doesn’t even know. I suppose Renewable Energy is a big deal. Proud of him.

I am a stay-at-home-mom and much more comfortable with being home this time than I was three years ago when I was at home Scout for the first year. I am enjoying my time with the kids immensely and feel very thankful to be in a position that I can share the special moments and sometimes REALLY long days with the kids. I know it is fleeting.

My guess... they will rule the roost for some time to come....

LONG DUCK DONG

2007-06-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

Okay,

Getting an exchange student sounded like a really good idea back in April. My Mom was terribly ill when I agreed to have a sixteen year old German girl come and live with us for 6 weeks. I thought she would be a great help around the house and with the baby in exchange for room and board.

Let me introduce you to Long Duck Dong. If you don't know who that is, go to Blockbuster, go to the really old section and rent 'Sixteen Candles.' Watch it. Keep in mind, Dong was at least drunk and funny. Not the case here.

Dong has been here for less than one week. It will be exactly one week tomorrow. It will be a long 5 weeks ahead. Dong is sweet. A nice person I suspect. But Dong is a teenager. I was picturing in my mind a young girl, a farmer, a working girl (okay this was my fantasy… what can I say?)

I am trying to work, raise Scout, keep the house up, keep the dogs sane - because let's face it - the dogs take a total back seat when baby arrives. I didn't believe people when they told me this (what else is new) but it is true. Luna and Levi pace the house like mad. Between trying to be Mom, Businesswoman, Dog Therapist and Dong's Mom away from home, I am toast.

The deal was: Dong would come live with us and help out with the house and the baby while we:

1) Worked

2) Spent time with Mum (as I didn't know what state she would be in at this point in time)

3) Jeez, I don’t know, maybe go out on a date?

So far, Dong has been a lot of work. I got at insta-teenager. If you know me... you know I am scared of teenagers. What was I thinking? Teenagers are like aliens to me. I think they should all be shipped off to an island between the ages 12-25. A sort of reform school, if you will.

Dong is self-absorbed. This is normal for teenagers. But I need someone to help me change explosive diapers while I am answering business calls from potential clients. I need someone to help me cook, water the yard… at this point – just bring me a Starbucks! I was expecting child labor - and I gotPrincess Lea.

These teenagers… they sleep in and loaf around. They look somber one minute and are ecstatic the next. What is the deal?

We are doing our best. We enrolled Dong into Swing Dancing, Soap Making and Lindy Hop classes. We took her to Mt. Evans .

I have her hooked on Starbucks. We made soup together. What is more… soul food than that?

In the first week - we have had to outline our expectations twice. She now has it on paper in an outline form and calendar form.

Neither seems to be sticking - like a bad marketing message… ouch! I guess I suck at my job! Today, Dong told me she doesn’t want children because she could not stand to be a stay-at-home-mom.

She needs more intellectual stimulation than that. If she were to have children the man would have to raise them. Hmm. I feel so good about having her here to help take care of Scout. (Slap).

I am thinking I will start posting stickies all over the house with directives. Do you think this would be too forward?

Does anyone need a Dong?