Morning

"Momeeee?"

A little voice calls out to me through white plastic speakers, jolting me out of sleep. I stumble out of bed with a fuzzy brain and bleary eyes into my kitchen. I look grumpily at dishes from last nights dinner. I pour milk in slow motion and wait with hazy impatience on my coffee.

"Mommeee, I'm awake! Can you heeeaar me?" Louder now. Slightly annoyed.

I shuffle down the hall and open the door, locked against night time wanderings, to see his tussled hair and pink, creased face looking up at me.

"Hi Mom. I had a nice sweep."

He walks purposely out of the room and climbs onto the couch. I sit beside him, pull him into my lap and wrap a blanket around us. We sit, Ben & I, in our sleeping shirts, our bare legs tangled together under the fuzzy blanket. Silently, we sip coffee out of an oversized mug and milk from a sippy-cup.

"Cozy", he sighs in content.

I nuzzle my nose into his hair, and kiss his neck, trying to memorize the feel and the scent of him. This is my favorite time of day: cuddled with Ben in quiet love, before the boy in him takes over and he goes off to find adventure in the day.

Oh sweet Friday!

It's Friday! My favorite day of the week. When the reprieve, the help, that seemed so far away, just last night, is now within sight. My days, and nights, of parenting the fabulous 4 alone will end for this week.

Sometime this afternoon, my beloved husband, love-of-my-life and co-parenting extraordinaire will finally get off work! (Cue Hallelujah Chorus) This is not a dig at Shane. He works extraordinarily hard so I can stay home with our children, but let's face it, sometimes by Thursday night (see the maudlin post below) doing it alone, I am looking for the gypsies. You know the proverbial ones that will come buy your children.

But Friday, Oh sweet Friday, I get to leave my home alone for a few hours and carry a small purse. I think everything freeing about those few hours is represented by that tiny purse that only fits a wallet, keys & lipgloss. There will be no need for changes of clothes, or wiping sticky fingers. No snacks or toys needed to pacify screaming children in the freezer department of the grocery store. Maybe I'll go to my bookstore, maybe I'll go to a coffee shop. Maybe I'll just run errands, because let's face it...even a line at the bank feels like a vacation when Lauri Berkner (God bless her) is not playing on your CD player.

Then when I return home my little ones will act like I have been gone for days and actually screech in happiness to have me back. My older ones with pounce on me with questions about their plans for the weekend and the chaos will begin again, but with Shane home, it somehow feels peaceful, like things are the way they should be.

At least until Monday.

For my children

Sometimes, when I become so weary of carrying this burden alone, and the reprieve I am anticipating feels so far away... Sometimes, when I have walked the same steps and said the same words so many times, that even my anger has become stale...and I can no longer find the magic, even in you, His most glorious creations...


Sometimes, but not often, Thank God not often, when the chaos inside me becomes a maelstrom, the tears come, and the shouting. I hear the ugliness and the criticisms in the words I couldn't keep inside and I know I have gone too far. I know that I have left a mark on your spirit that will not completely heal. I have left a scar. And because of me, someday, you may feel less. Less whole, less sure, less capable.

Less loved.

Forgive me for my anger. Forgive me my arrogance in thinking myself capable. How could I have thought that I could be worthy of you? Worthy to guide you through the storms?

I, who keep losing my way.

Oh the pressure!

My mother gave me a $50 gift certificate to Barnes & Noble for my Birthday.

I read a lot. More blogs lately, but still books. I always have a small stack on my nightstand and because I don't sleep much, it doesn't take me long to work my way through them. I almost never buy books new though.

I found a used bookstore near my home and as part of my efforts to spend less I refuse to purchase books anywhere else. I just love this place. It feels like a mix between my grandmother's basement and "The Shop Around the Corner" It's become a ritual I look forward to. Friday afternoons I putz around in this cramped store, with no kids, that has this wonderful musty old book smell, and I think only two employees.

Then I take my purchases out for a Latte. And once I have devoured them, or rejected them, I schlep them back to the store the next week for credit towards my next treasure hunt.

But now I have $50 to spend at Barnes & Noble. I can buy ANY BOOK I WANT! It took me a month of stalking the used bookstore to get Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Darn Oprah. (It was worth it though, that book was haunting and depressing and fabulous!) So the idea of just ordering something to be delivered to my home, it makes me giddy.

So what should I get? What book changed your life? Made you laugh? Kept you up all night? What's worth full price?

Oh and I would be lying if I told you the thought hadn't entered my mind to use half of it on the last Harry Potter.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Saturday was my birthday. I am one of those obnoxious people that loves to celebrate birthdays, even (okay especially!) my own. When it's my birthday, everyone knows. They know because I tell them: Friends. Acquaintances. Store Clerks. They all have been known to hear me burst out,

"Today is my birthday!"

We are a family of hams, and I am just as much of a porker (avoid the obvious comments here...they'd be true, but mean) as the rest of them. I love the cards, the emails, the phone calls to tell me they love me, to have a great day. They make me feel warm and loved and, in the interest of staying real, they make me feel validated. Pathetic I know. Really pathetic. But nonetheless true.

I love using the "birthday" card to eat what I want, sleep late, indulge in pedicures & $5 lattes that would normally be too much of a splurge. I get to pick the movie, the restaurant, to forgo the dishes, cooking and other mundanities that my life typically consists of.

My birthday weekends are always great, because I make them great. I remind Shane patiently and naggingly that he needs to get a babysitter, I call girlfriends and say "Let's go out this weekend, it's my birthday!" I wake my kids up smiling and saying (yes, pathetically...I KNOW!) Tell mommy "Happy Birthday!", and they do, and they sing to me, unwittingly participating in my crazy ploy for forced attention because they are, well...3! I know this makes me sound shallow, insecure, self-absorbed. Spoiled. But at least it's real. I never sit around pretending I don't care about my birthday and being sad when no one remembers. People always remember when you remind them repeatedly and drag them out to celebrate. -Grin-

(No gifts though. I have a strict no-gift policy for everyone except Shane. Reminding people of your birthday and then accepting gifts is too self-promoting, even for me!)

That being said, this was just the best birthday weekend. Friday night, after a lovely lunch with my mother, some of my oldest, dearest friends - the ones that fit like a comfy old tshirt- took me out for tapas, and glasses of wine and laughter like we were still 16. And it wasn't even my idea! Saturday was spent lounging in my pajamas with my kids and then husband-of-the-year and I went out that night with more dear-old-friends for more laughter and excessive amounts of food.

Then Sunday, Allison (my dramatic, Broadway-bound, mini-me of a daughter) and yes, more old friends, went to see "The Sound of Music" at The Historic Fox Theatre Atlanta. No not the play, the movie. It's just wonderful to see old movies there. Along with the rest of the audience, we hisssed at the baroness and Nazis; We burst into applause after the songs we had heard a dozen times. We genuinely enjoyed it...and each other.

I lament so much my children getting older that sometimes I fail to notice how much fun it can be to hang out with your child when you no longer need to pack a change of clothes and sippy-cups each time you walk out the door. When their interests have evolved enough that sometimes they even overlap with yours.

Here's a picture of our date.

Thank you to the people I love for making me feel so fabulously loved this weekend. I am blessed and I know it.

Clara Elizabeth

Sometimes they are so beautiful...

...you just can't help yourself.

Now this is a media clip worth watching...

No blogging for me today, I have to deal with the pigsty of my house instead. Blogging has gotten in the way of cleaning. But I needed to share this video from someone in my Sunday School Class. I teared up each time I watched it. Since I can't seem to figure out how to get this video in the middle of my post (maybe someone can help me??) you'll have to click at the bottom of the page.
Joy