Sunday, June 28, 2015

Happy half Birthday!!

Leavitt William,

My precious, vibrant, determined, wonderful one and a half year old! I can not even believe I am the mother to a toddler little alone someone to be so proud of.  You are smart, witty and giving.  You have your own little way about you that makes me smile.  I both fear and adore your tenacity.  You are a force my love, and I am loving getting to know you better every day.


I hope to always at least recognize and celebrate you in some way on your half birthday.  I hate that you are rushed through the birthday excitement because of Christmas, so we will always find a way to make this day special too. Truly I hope you feel celebrated everyday.  I hope you hear me as I cheer you on with all your little adventures, and that you are beginning to see that "no" really does mean no.  Speaking of no, you still hate that word.  You still give me the side eye when you hear it and I can see you calculating in your head weather I am close enough to stop you or if you have time to make a valiant attempt.  Keep your quick wit kid, you're going to need it to outsmart your mom, lord knows you're already trying.



Thank you for being such a light in our lives.  You really melt me to the core with your tight hugs, and adoring kisses.  Being your mom is such an honor, but dude you've really been exploiting that lately.  For instance, you know how much I love dressing you so when you're pissed at me you rip off your clothes and diaper.  Yeah, you're probably a teenager by now reading this so from one rebel soul to another I hope you've grown out of that by now! By the way if you don't I am so going to do that to you when I get to the nursing home... you've been warned.  You also have a real problem with anyone looking at you when you are in the car... that one I can't explain but its a thing you've been doing so for now I am rolling with it.  You are into everything and climb up on the kitchen island, causing every one's heart to skip a beat.  You're a real thrill seeker, and total bossy pants.  You like going for rides on your Grampy's boat but you are really only happy if you are in control.  You also have a fascination with cars and love going to the dealership to sit in all the cool showroom cars... another Grampy thing.  Lucky for me he realizes the monster that he's created so he drags you out kicking and screaming and puts you in the car seat.  You are also sensitive with a heart of gold.  You sometimes have a hard time when I drop you off at daycare, crying and not letting me set you down.  I try to put on a brave face but I miss you just as much, probably more.  You should probably know that once I am done my mommy stuff, and catching up with a girlfriend here and there I don't relax and wait until its time to go get you.  I just go get you.  I cringe at the thought of doing nothing without you.



We sat on the porch and watched it rain the other day, you loved running around getting all wet.  I love watching you explore this world with all your wonder, but sometimes have to tell the uptight control freak inside of me to shut up and let you be messy, crazy, wild & filthy.  Its not in my nature to really let go and not worry about the mess, but I am trying.  We have been playing hooky from our mommy and me madness, you don't seem to mind.  Right now you are in swim and music, and occasionally we go to gymnastics if we don't have a play date the same day.  You're basically a Bangor toddler socialite.  You and all your little buddies who are running their mommies ragged too.   You even have a group of adoring elderly fans at Dysart's.  We have a standing Tuesday date there before music... you're a real sucker for the mediocre food and the throngs of senior citizens.  You love that they wave and call you by name... I have to admit it used to be cute, now it feels excessive.  You ham it up for them, you're going to either be in a boy band or a politician I have decided.

So happy half way to your second birthday!!! We love you bunches!!! XOXO

Love,
Mommy

P.S.  Daddy is a total sucker and has been hitting up toys r us pretty hard lately.  So today lets go get Starbucks and stop by there with his picture.  I am going to threaten everyone that works there, that they are not to sell anything else inflatable to him... or they will incur the wrath of mommy!! Maybe you should work up a hand gesture to help me out with that.







Sunday, June 21, 2015

We don't care you don't change diapers



In honor of Father's Day I am going to give a big shout out to the traditional man, more importantly father.  The guy that you grew up seeing on TV, who goes to work, pays the bills, kisses the wife, throws the ball with the kids real quick then turns it over to Mama.  This guy doesn't change diapers, or travel alone with the baby, he doesn't make the meals, or clean up after dinner.  He's not attending play dates, or running household errands.  He's not even totally sure what goes on here during the course of every day.  What he does is just as important.  He is a provider and none of it is possible without him.

I will be the first to admit that there are days I wish I had a job outside of the home and that Nick was forced to wrangle our toddler alone.  He's a full blown toddler with at that entails and it can be exhausting.  But all this feminist BS about dads watching kids shouldn't be called babysitting, and hurt feelings over society's expectations of Mother's totally blows my mind.  I'm the Mom, I can handle it.  I may be rolling my eyes, and over caffeinating myself (totally did that every day at my real job anyways) to get it together but its happening. Luckily for me Nick has been witness to enough of the crazy to feel sorry for me from time to time.  Not sorry enough to change diapers and that's OK.

So Happy Father's Day Nick! We love you and so appreciate your hard work.  We are always sad to see you go and happy to have you home.  I appreciate the looks of "what the hell was that" after a meltdown and your sympathetic laughs that make me glad to have you on my team.  Most importantly thank you for sacrificing your time so that I can have more.  For making it possible to be with Leavitt instead of at work and, for not guilt tripping me for needing two days of sanity and me time when he goes to daycare. Thank you for not being annoyed that I basically always drop him off late and pick him up early because I miss him.  Thank you for trusting me to make the big decisions and reassuring me when I am flying by the seat of my pants.  We love visiting you at work and hope you know how happy it makes me that you are doing what you always said you wanted.   I would continue to kiss your ass here but you're about to need my help laying out your clothes for work, and speaking of clothes, I've ignored Leavitt longer than he'd like so he's taking all his clothes off! Lucky me, he's going to be a real treat when he is a teenager if this keeps up!

And also thanks for dealing with my daily pictures of what is going on especially when he's driven his power wheels into someone's Buick and I'm not totally sure what I should do...


Monday, June 15, 2015

The reset

So I wrote this about a month ago and tonight while reading and reminiscing about my favorite boy who is currently under the weather while his Mama battles the bridal blues, I accidentally have reminded myself that its time to reset.  I need to get off the mommy hamster wheel and do something fun for myself.  Call the friend I have been dying to check in with but up until lately have only been able to muster a text, drink a glass of wine that has been passed over in favor of caffeine day after day, and pat myself on the back for having the baby in bed by 8.  Oh yeah.  I would have just rewritten all of this but the second paragraph is essentially my everyday truth and you should probably read it and have a laugh at my expense....

Like most Moms that try to be everything to everyone, I struggle a little to let go of my Mommy role and settle into my partner role.  We just went to Boston to celebrate my soon to be sister in law's graduation from optometry school.  Talk about being knocked down the ladder on who Leavitt will ask to career day…. I will send muffins, whatever.

Before we left him in the loving, capable hands of my mother I had a little break down.  I always worry about being less than a short drive from him so I was a little nerved up.  I also have a nagging OCD version of my Grammy Nightingale inside that would like to put plastic on the furniture.  So just as I thought we were ready to roll, Nick who has used the oven all of four times decided to make himself some lunch.  WHAT. THE. HELL.  I can't stomach coming home to a mess.  Not to get carried away but the thought brings me to tears.  Then Leavitt barfed.  Yeah that again.  So I started crying.  I'm going to miss him, I'm sick of cleaning up vomit, partial tears of joy that Nick knows how to use the oven, and partially crying because there is a mess I might come home to.  I am a mess. My mom, witness to the whole shit show.

Honestly I love the rare quality time I get with my man.  It feels good to feel that connection that has weathered years of life.  Sometimes I get a little nervous wondering if he thinks I have become too safe and forgotten that wild child in me that brought us together.  We talk a lot about Leavitt, how funny his quirks are, how much we love his little attitude even though he knows how to push my buttons like his daddy.  We spent the weekend following an itinerary stealing moments here and there of quiet.  Then on our way to brunch we got stuck in a fancy town we don't live in, blocked out by a parade not for us and we threw our hands in the air and drove north.  Stopped at a cute little place in Kittery to soothe the hanger pains and hit the gap outlet...baby clothes, cute mom jeans, and carb overload...priorities people.

I honestly did not need to reset myself very often until lately.  The mom days are longer, the sleep shorter, the tantrums louder, my man less accessible, the stuff that our life is made of seems to all be on steroids lately.  However my willingness to let go and ask for help gets less and less. His stages feel so fleeting I don't want to miss anything, but I am afraid I won't even recognize myself if I don't catch my breath.