M

The first time I held her, I was honestly taken aback. Her tiny pink hands were curled into tight fists and tucked beneath her perfect chin. Her nose wasn't smooshed or wrinkled like most newborns. It was this adorable little button that I couldn't help but kiss over and over again. The RN suggested that I try to nurse her right away, so I tentatively held her to my breast trying to figure out what exactly the two of us were doing. But M knew what to do, and with a grunt she latched on for dear life. It was amazing. She snorted like a little piglet, sweet and pink and apparently starving! Now, so many years later, I fall in love time and again as I sneek into her bedroom to kiss that sweet little nose. Some day, not so very far away, M will be grown...too old for secret kisses.

Fee Fi Fo Fum...I smell...chocolate?

Some days, asking my children to make their beds AND pick up the floor of their bedrooms is a battle that I simply choose to ignore. While straightening B's bed the other day, I reached for her pillow and threw it onto her sister's bed while I began to strip the covers from her own. There was a slight waft of chocolate in the air. I dismissed it entirely, thinking clearly that this low-carb re-diet of mine was truly getting to my head. As I fluffed and tucked and made less-than-spectacular hospital corners that would have my grandmother clicking her tongue at me, but the job was nearly complete. I reached for the pillow to remove the pillow case when that familiar scent again filled my nostrils. Knowing full well that this is not a scratch 'n sniff Dora pillow case, I lifted the pillow toward my face to investigate. Suddenly my fingers felt a strange crinkling like paper...foil paper. I reached into the pillow case. When I removed my hand, there were several wadded foil papers, the remnants of my secret (or not-so-secret) stash of mini Snickers candy bars!!! MY PMS STASH!!! My boiling point screeched above the thermometer...and then it was gone. I was suddenly dumbfounded by how devious my otherwise innocent daughter had suddenly become. She is the second worst liar of the three, and always breaks under pressure. I never would have expected this from her. And then I began to wonder what else she had hidden and where...I've been missing a few things...

To Each, His Own

M. Sweet, sassy, sensitive M. She is small in size, but gigantic of heart. And her heart is filled with the love of basketball. Her talent is incredulous, given her inexperience and size. But she really is a natural. The only element missing, a good 15 inches in height. And still she's learning how to use her size to her advantage. In soccer, she managed to weasel her way in and out of the clusters and come out on the other side with the ball and a smile. In softball, she manages to make her strike zone nearly non-existent. In basketball, she has found that when you are closer to the ground, it is heck of a lot easier to steal the ball. And then away she goes...Now, if we could work on that fast-break lay-up.

Little Girl, Young Lady

We've been preparing for this for over a year now, since the first subtle physical changes. I've been dreading it's arrival. She has been anxious wondering what the fuss is all about. We played out all of the possible scenarios to reassure her that no matter how, when, or where...she would be just fine. We attendend a workshop at the hospital and recently, the entire 5th grade classroom watched gender-specific videos. And after a year of anticipation, it happened in the comfort of our home while I was starting dinner in the next room. Neither of us panicked. Everything was at hand. And within a few minutes, our worlds went back to normal...somewhat. For the next few hours, I stared at her just a little bit longer. I fingered a loop of her hair. And I allowed my heart to walk down memory lane. My little girl was now a young lady. (sniff)

Then and Now

When I was a little girl, I always thought that if I had enough money, I could change the world...or at least my world. Over the years, I have finally come to the realization that I will never have "enough" money to change my world. All of those material things that I thought I would need when I grew up, no longer have the same meaning. I wanted a sports car, a beaming red Mazda Miata. I drive a dust-covered mini-van, no CD player, broken heater motor/air conditioner. But the sports car that I dreamed of so long ago, could never do for me what this beat-up ol' grocery-getter does on a daily basis. It's the vehicle that I love to hate and hate to love. But it's paid in full, allows each of the girls their own personal space without the "she's touching me", and can load an entire team--ball bags and all. I wanted a huge house with at least 5 bedrooms, 3 baths, swimming pool, and acreage. I can barely keep our 3 bedroom/2 bath clean and can't even imagine how much time it would take to clean a larger home without hired help. What we have now is not immaculate or spotless. It is lived in, worn in some places, but cozy and comfortable and quite well kept in comparison to some. We even hosted a 25-person Christmas gathering this year without any complaints and plenty of room for food, socializing, and gift-opening games. I wanted Prince Charming, 5 beautiful well-behaved boys, and a small dog. I've since decided that a dog is the last thing I desire (pet hair, expenses, smell, and having to worry about another "kid"). God granted me 3 beautiful, amazing, and talented daughters that give me reasons to be proud and grateful daily. And because of those lovely girls, we will surely have plenty of boys around the house in the years to come. As for Prince Charming...well, I did manage to nail that one.

Waterlogged at the Waterpark

This year was the perfect mid-winter break vacation for our family. We stayed at the amazing Wilderness Hotel and Resort via Glacier Canyon Lodge (which we whole-heartedly recommend to anyone with school-age children or teenagers who don't mind the short enclosed walkways to each indoor park) and spent three days at each of the waterparks. Our small fry, M, managed to squeak past the How Tall are You posters by puffing out her chest and standing extra "tall", raising her chin just a tad...and she made full use of each and every ride! We each took turns on the body slides, tube slides, and family raft rides. The favorite pool was the huge Wave Pool at the Waterdome. The girls also loved The Hurricane waterslide at the Klondike and had ridden it a few times with their dad before finally convincing me that it was my turn. As I climbed the massive stair case to the ceiling, the girls elbowed each other secretly and covered their mouths to stifle their giggles. We pulled over to the side of the staircase a few times to allow my jello legs a quick rest. I knew that I was in for it, but little did I know what was truly about to happen to my poor unsuspecting body. When we finally reached the top, we were directed to a large scale. As if getting into a bathing suit mid-winter isn't bad enough...they now expected me to get weighed? The four of us took our place on the scale and the lifeguard read the results. I held my breath for a brief moment before she gave us the anxiously anticipated thumbs-up. I looked at the four large men behind me and wondered how they would fare... Before I could turn to see them load the scale, the lifeguard was directing me into the tube. The girls were now laughing as she pointed at the back of the raft, indicating that I would be riding backwards. My heart stopped, my knees shook, and the only thought I recall is that of my loving husband who had seemingly turned his back to me to arrange the towels over the chairs while the girls begged me to go on this God-forsaken ride. I entered the raft and took my place. The lifeguard asked if we were ready. The girls answered immediately, but before I could eek out my reply we were on our way into the dark tunnel. The girls screamed with laughter when we suddenly plunged straight down! This was clearly the path to Hell. The water propelled us forward into a large tube which we skidded up one side and down the next several times, each pass feeling as though we would surely capsize. A stream of water in the center of the tube slowed our movement and continued to move us forward until we were pulled into a smaller tube and doused with a heavy waterfall. I'm not sure how the girls could sputter water while still laughing! I was still trying to catch my breath when a lifeguard grabbed our raft and shoved us toward dry land. The girls hopped out and headed toward the bottom of the staircase again, not bothering to check to see if I was still alive. I rolled out of the raft like a stunned sea lion and plopped not-so-gracefully into the pool, trying desperately to gain my footing. As I crawled up the pool steps, I caught my sweet husband's laughing eyes. Yes, revenge, will be sweet indeed.

The Bucket

I was an adventurous young mother. I had always loved family camping as a kid and decided to join my two aunts and cousin on an all girls camping weekend with the company of my three angels. Although the campground was less than two hours away, summer road construction sent me on an hour long detour, putting our in-car travel time at 3.25 hours. The girls were hungry and tired, and I was quickly losing patience with the Disney sing-a-long CD they'd chosen to listen to over an hour ago. By the time we snaked our way to the BFE of the campground, I realized we were no where near a bathroom and little B was doing the dance of a lifetime. My quick-thinking aunt handed me an ice cream pail that they'd been given by the office (just in case nature called in the middle of the night). I grabbed the bucket and a tissue and handed it to O asking her to please take her sister behind the shrubs to tinkle while I unloaded the camping gear. She grudgingly obliged. A short while later, she returned with the bucket in tow asking me, "What now?" With my hands full and desperate to get the massive tent up before dark, I gritted my teeth and growled, "Just dump it out, please." She did. She returned again to explain that she couldn't "get it all out". The hair on the back of my neck stood tall. "Get WHAT out?" I asked. "The poop," she stated matter-of-factly. "WHAT?!!" I shouted. "Where did you dump it?" She pointed to the in-ground fire pit, of course. I was boiling over...and my lovely aunts, who seemed to find this ever so amusing, howled with laughter...until they realized that this was the same fire pit we would soon be cooking dinner over. I ran over to the fire pit to assess the damage. Yes, indeed, there were "logs on the fire". Using a small, and I mean VERY small, forked stick, I managed to roll the poo up the side of the pit and back into the bucket. Then I built a fire in the pit to sterilize and burn off any excess. With my aunts still in tears with laughter, I proceeded to walk away from the camp deep into the woods to bury the contents of the bucket. Still grumbling when I returned to camp, I looked directly into the wide eyes of my little gremlin who simply said, "Mom, M said she has to go potty."