Love at first sight

"I will offer a warm embrace just to make you feel my love"

Love is one of the strongest words I know. I fell in love with my first born the second I heard his heartbeat. It was magical. During my pregnancy a part of me felt that my body did not belong to me but to my unborn child. I did everything to make sure he was safe. Looking back I was in a very different place then I'm in now. There were choices that I made after I gave birth that were not safe for my son. I was young and felt entitled to behave young but little did I know that my behavior could have taken me away from my son, that's what made it unsafe. I didn't have love for myself, just love for him and I thought that was enough. I truly believe that God saved me. By his beautiful grace, my eye's began to open and a light within me started to spark. I became the mother that Calvin needed.

When I gave birth to my daughter, it was an instant change. A mother and her little girl is a whole different experience. From day one, she has taught me so much. First, not only was my pregnancy different but having a girl is nothing like having a boy. Second, what I thought I knew as a parent no longer applied when it came to Maisie. And third, with each challenge Maisie presents, get used to the sound of my mother's laughter ringing in my ears. Maisie has this personality and sense of humor that come so easy to her. Through the many sleepless nights and the constant hospital checks she became a fighter. She challenges my parenting skills and I secretly enjoy it. My brother Peter once told my husband, "if you tell her she can't do it, then she'll just prove you wrong". I'm sure I'll also be saying that to him when Maisie hits 13.

I always say that Calvin taught me patience and Maisie taught me prayer.

We were blessed with Carson Robert on 2/21/11. I was tired, hot all the time, my back hurt, my maternity clothes barely fit and I had gained the same 35lbs that I had gained with Maisie. While I did my best to mask my discomfort it proved to be more difficult to mask my irritation with my husband who scheduled his time off so work could find coverage for him...I was planning to VBAC, you can't really plan that. But that's part of his nature to worry about work. And God, apparently, was willing to help him out. I worked a half day on the 18th and then went to my mother in-laws house to celebrate my sister-in-laws birthday. After cake she said, "okay, now he come anytime". God was apparently in a giving mood. By Saturday I was having more frequent contractions but third child an all I was waiting until it was absolutely time. So Carson took his time and by Monday morning we were headed to the hospital. We ended up with a c-section and since he was 10.2lbs I'm very happy that we did. Carson's sugar was very low so he spent the first day in the NICU. And it was probably for the best, I spent the first day getting to know pitocin on a more intimate level. Two bags and lots of meds later I was out for the count. There are only bits and pieces of that day that I remember. One memory I will never forget happened after I left recovery. I was starting to feel the pain from my surgery and the nurse asked if I wanted to take a detour to see my son in the NICU. He was fussing as they put him into my arms and as I quietly ssshhhhed him, he put his hand under my chin as if to say "this is all I need". This tiny little being made everything around us disappear and just for a few minutes we took each other's pain away. I'm so thankful that my husband was there to capture it. This was a very powerful moment for me, one that I will always cherish.

So many tears have been shed for my children, all out of love. Tears shed in the hopes that I can protect them, watch over them, guide them and above all pass on this amazing gift of love. The love that can't be taught in a classroom, bought at a dollar store or found on the side of the road.

Love has given me healing powers, kung fu strength and gut wrenching laughter. It's my love for my children that makes me a super hero. In their eyes my kisses make their pain go away and my hugs protect them from harm. It's because of these super powers that they also believe that I make money grow on tree's, I can hear through walls and have eye's on the back of my head and with just one look I'm able to freeze people. I know that someday they will also possess these powers. And I pray that Maisie will also have a little girl that believes if you cover your eye's, no one will see you.

The Moose

My husband and I got married on May 18th, 2007. He proposed a year earlier then I thought he would. Granted we had been together for 5 years, I wanted to graduate from College before I started bugging him for a ring. But that's how life goes; I gladly moved around my plans and reestablished a new one. Shortly after we were engaged my future husband dropped a bomb on our new plans...work wanted him to move to NY for a year to open a new restaurant. It was a promotion and more money so we talked and thought it would be the best move for us. I could stay back and plan our wedding while he worked on his career. This ended up being the best move for Adam's career. After 5 years of being together, I learned that my future husband had no concept for budgeting and/or spending money. I also learned that he didn't know where any of the cleaning supplies were in his apartment. We hit a few rough patches and somehow still made it down the aisle. When we came home from our honeymoon we stumbled upon what would become our home. Things fell into place with each step we took. By September of 08' I was expecting our 2nd child. Calvin is by every right Adam's son, he just came ready made. This, however, would be the first pregnancy that Adam got to experience and boy did he get to experience a pregnancy.

I was on bed rest almost immediately due to minor complications. I had issues throughout the pregnancy that prevented me from doing almost anything. This dependency weighed heavily on my marriage. My husband was used to me being the care taker, the cleaner, the bill payer, the taxi driver, etc. while his job was minor cleaning and most of the cooking. His work schedule when he was transferred back home was stressful. He had a boss that put work before anything else and expected all the employee's to do the same. My husband, unfortunately, fell in line with this theory. Pregnancy did not work well into this schedule. God's grace mixed with patience and determination got us through this as well.

I prayed and prayed that I would have a boy. I thought it would be so nice to give Calvin a little brother. 9 years difference is huge but I'm also 10 years younger than my oldest brother and we are very close. When I found out I was having a girl, I questioned the tech and continued to do so at every ultrasound. I didn't know what to do with a girl. I had 6 nephews and 1 niece who was just a baby herself. I thought, "I don't know how to raise a girl". Funny how those sorts of anxieties strike us. I didn't know what to do with a boy before I had Calvin and somehow I managed. My sister-in-law said that maybe it was a good thing, "Calvin could still be Adam's son and this little girl would just complete our family". I never thought of it that way, Adam's family had welcomed Calvin with open arms and often referred to him as the grandchild.
Maisie was born on June 12^th, 2008 via c-section. She was a peanut, only 6.9lbs and 19” long, she was perfect. A mother’s heart grows so much more with each child, it’s an amazing gift. I fell head over heels in love the second I laid eyes on them.

Adam was over the moon with having a daughter; he would give her the world if she asked. And Calvin grew 20 inches when he held his baby sister for the first time. He recently wrote about this day in a paper he had to do for school. It brought tears to my eyes and then I thought, “Calvin will be 25 when Maisie is 16, he can go with her on her first date”. 

The honeymoon was over when we came home. Maisie went from 3-4 hours between feedings to 2-3 hours. She cried all.the.time. and threw up the other half. I believe I cried with her. She would be up until 3am most nights and Adam and I would switch off walking with her. We didn’t know what was wrong. After several doctors’ visits, tests and a trial on meds, we switched doctors and got her on reflux meds that made the angels sing in heaven. There was this new peace of mind that enveloped our home. Maisie was around 7 months old by this time so her sleep pattern had been established and while she’s in her own room she has yet to sleep consistently through the night.

Maisie has always had this essence about her. She’s a fighter and she’s strong willed. A trait that I hope she got from me. She knows what she wants; I believe that’s why she started talking so early, she wants to make sure we hear all of her orders. By the time she was a 1 year old, she was off the meds, talking and had adopted the nickname Moose as she was no longer the peanut we had brought home from the hospital. By the time she was 2 years old she was potty trained and telling her brother Calvin what to do. Now she runs around the house with him yelling “Abracadabra” and Calvin, being the obedient soldier, fly’s around and flips and jumps on the floor to amuse his sister. When I tell her no, she goes into her room and slams the door. When her daddy has something that she wants she looks at him and says, “I love you daddy”. When Calvin leaves for school in the morning, I open the living room window so she can get on the couch and yell “BYE BUDDY”…at 7am. She is the missing link to this family, the comedic relief, the light and the glue that binds us together. She is the reason why we made a new plan so long ago.

Down South

I was 15 years old, I believe it was the summer of 1994 and we had just come back to MA from Saudi Arabia. From my memory, my mother and I jumped in a car and drove down to North Carolina. We left my brother's and my dad to pack up our old house to sell it. We had nowhere to live and no idea what we were going to find. I'm sure, my mother had it all planned out. We stayed at a bed and breakfast and we went house hunting while checking out all the local high schools. There were quite a few things that I found to be very strange about this new State. For one, why are you waving at me when I drive by, obviously you have me mistaken for someone you know. And when I'm at a store and you ask how I'm doing and I respond with the well rehearsed, "fine, how are you?" that was not meant to be an actual question, I really didn't want to know how you were. And everything down here is so slow; restaurants, gas pumps, even when people walk, can't we just move along people? The high schools we interviewed were a whole other story, we toured one school and I remember the woman giving my mother a nudge and saying, "the good thing about this school is the white to black ratio", something about the black ratio being low. I believe my mouth hung open for a whole two minutes after that comment. I also believe my mother saying something about me not attending that school. I mean, really, was the south still segregated?

It was certainly an adjustment and even more so coming from a foreign country where you really didn't make much eye contact never mind small talk. We lucked out in NC; we found a nice home with a farmer's porch...in the middle of nowhere...but nice all the same. We even got to bring our dog Shadow with us. Dad had her so doped up when he arrived; I don't even think she knew she left our old house. My brother, Peter even came to live with us for a bit. Mom got a job teaching and before I knew it I was attending the local high school. I was a freshman again and the new girl...again. I wasn't really sure how I was going to fit in. I talked funny, walked fast and thanks to Saudi Arabia I had no real interest in academics. The teacher's here were different; the students didn't seem to have a lot of respect and often talked back or out of turn. My science teacher got so mad at a student once, he threw his books and binder out the door, lifted a desk up and moved it into the hallway and told him to sit there for the rest of the year. Where I grew up, you didn't talk back to the teacher and if you did, there were repercussions. And teachers certainly weren’t aggressive with school or student property; otherwise they would be dealing with legal repercussions. As for me, in no way did I see this as an opportunity to rebel. I wanted to sit just far enough in the background to get by.

Things were quieter here, aside from the student/teacher relationships; people were nicer and calmer about things. Kids were free to express themselves more. I really didn’t see a definitive line between popular and not popular. It was just a bunch of different groups without the social hierarchy. The skaters, the jocks, the preps, the quirky crowd and even the trouble makers all had their own tables or spots in the courtyard. There was Nora from English class, she was bright and witty and fun. There was a light in her eyes and people were just drawn to her. There was Allison who was lanky and quirky and had her own personality. Emily was the jock, loud and hilarious; she always knew what to say to make you feel better. Katherine was the pretty girl that dated the senior boys and then broke all their hearts. Monique was the soccer star that told me I was the only white girl she didn’t hate. And then Matt and Jarrid were the skater’s that hung out at the library after school, they looked like rebels but they were two of the sweetest kids I’d ever met. I was the girl that sort of jelled into this new life with all these new friends. There were moments that made it hard to settle in only because none of them hung out together and I, being selfish, wanted to be a part of it all. I didn’t want to pick a group, I wanted to play soccer and wear ripped jeans and hang out at Luigi’s with the poets. Of course I had my fair share of people that weren’t so fond of me. Like Nora’s best friend who often brushed me off or just completely ignored me. I would later become accustomed to the best friend dilemma, who was I to walk into someone’s life after they’d had a well established friendship for so many years without me? There was Meghan, the class brown-noser, who hated the fact that I learned (out of sheer boredom) to say the alphabet backwards…in Spanish. She came in the very next day and announced that she could do it to and then gave me the stink eye for the rest of the year. Then there was that senior, the one during soccer try outs that already had her team picked out and obviously I wasn’t a part of it. I was relieved to make it on the JV team. My coach and my teammates were amazing. I learned so much and bonded with so many wonderful people. And honestly, I don’t believe we won one game. What mattered was that I found a new love. At soccer games, we would put our hair in pigtails and use wash out marker to color in the school colors, orange and black. We drew panther paws on our faces and wore our soccer jerseys to school on game day. I even had my first real crush, Isaac Deeter-Wolf, he was the star soccer player for the boys and I drooled every time I saw him. In hindsight I don’t believe he knew I existed but that never stopped me from drawing hearts into my notebook.

I was really settling in to this new home when it became very clear that things weren’t going so well for my family. My dad just couldn’t get work, he was even told over the phone “that he was from the wrong part of the US”. It was so frustrating to find a place in the world that was so calm and easy going, a place that I saw myself growing old in…and yet it was so racist in so many different ways. It was frowned upon to comingle with the other races in school, and when people called me Yankee, it wasn’t meant as a compliment. A war that was won so long ago for the freedom of other’s was still being fought in this southern town. I’m not sure they even knew what the war was about, I just sensed the bitterness of losing and the idea that anyway that they could get back at the North, they would.  My dad happened to feel the brunt of that anger.

So in the summer of 1995, we packed up our home and we moved back to MA. Out of all of my moves, this was one of the hardest. I often tell people my parents had to take me kicking and screaming. But for the sake of the family, my parents had to do what was right and NC wasn’t going to work for us. My father was able to get another contract working for Raytheon, this time overseas in the Marshall Islands. It looked like my winters were going to be snow free once again. As for me, the new girl status was sort of becoming my annual thing and at the age of 16 I was feeling a little bitter.

The Ruff Life

So the saying goes, "When you hit a brick wall....climb over it".

When I was pregnant with my daughter and my husband and I came home from a day out with the family on Christmas to find a waterfall in our bedroom, you would have thought that I needed to be medicated. I was a basket case when I was pregnant with my daughter, I cried all the time and I forgot everything. And not just major stuff but the basics like signing checks or sending my son to school with lunch. I had several tear filled phone calls with my supervisor, why he didn't request that I take an early leave is beyond me. My postpartum was even a struggle and more so, I believe, because I was frustrated with myself for feeling so negative. I had a home, a husband and two beautiful children who would be well provided for; I just wanted to get over it. And I eventually did, however, in hindsight I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have such high expectations on how a pregnant woman should behave. I went into this pregnancy expecting to be more accepting of my raw emotions and so far I'm wondering where all the water works are. There's a lot that we go through as women and every one of us deals with this miracle differently and probably differently each time. We are our own worst critics, so why be so judgmental towards others?

Currently I have this; "things happen for a reason so why lose sleep over it" sort of mindset going on. The supervisor for the construction at my office was kind enough to point that out to me, odd how some strangers can be so candid. Why would it bother me, he's right. It was almost good to hear, sort of like a reminder to pay attention, know when the right or wrong time is to care. For example, feelings shouldn't play a part in switching doctors, you're a patient and if you're not happy then it's an easy decision. Feelings shouldn't play a part at work, put simply, it’s business and if you're a woman you might as well be wearing a bulls eye on your forehead. Feelings also shouldn't play a part at a restaurant where the staff is being less then satisfying. Feelings SHOULD play a part when interacting with your children, family and friends. Feelings should also play a part when you tell your husband you’re going to throw his alarm clock out the window if it goes off one more time…and you actually look forward to doing it. And Feelings should also definitely play a part when your dog mistakes the neighbors Pomeranian for a chew toy. These are times when I have to step back and check myself, "Liz, please care, otherwise it may not end well".

We had a wonderful day yesterday; Calvin did so much work around the house. He lifted and moved and cleaned and often complained but he did it. His new room looks great and he's so excited to have a TV in there finally, even if it's with restrictions. The baby's room is almost ready, with 4 1/2 months left, we're looking pretty good. Maisie even went most of the day without Dora on the TV. It was going so great...and then Calvin took out the recycling. I was getting dressed so we could head out to pick up furniture when I heard the frantic scream for our dog Lily. I thought, "Great, she saw a cat and is running around the neighborhood, I better get outside before Calvin runs in front of car trying to catch her". As if time slowed down as I ran past our bay window and saw my neighbor turning in circles with his little schmoot of a dog hightailing it from the hungry beast that was on its hind leg. I opened the door to hear the horrid shriek and growl of two animals in combat while Calvin continued to scream at Lily. I flew across the street and grabbed our vicious dog who then immediately froze in fear when she realized momma had caught her doing something very bad. Calvin apologized to the neighbor as he held his yelping dog against his chest and I, who was too mortified to make eye contact, did a bee-line back to our house. Calvin was in full ADD reaction mode and had a complete meltdown in the living room while his 2 year old sister rubbed his back and said, "you okay buddy?” I had to ask him to go into his bedroom while I went out to face the neighbor. With his ADD, I couldn't sugar coat the issue at hand, when he's in meltdown mode he needs to self soothe before I can soothe. There were one of two things that could happen (a) they would press charges and our dog would need to be put down or (b) we offer to pay all the medical expenses and pray that it satisfies them. As most of us know, emergency vet visits aren't cheap so either way our good day was over. And yes, I don't know why the neighbor didn't just pick up his 5 pound dog when he saw another dog come barreling out of a yard barking and growling. But I'm keeping these feelings in check.

So how do you ground a dog, teach them that what they did was very wrong, and keep them from behaving that way ever again? I believe that was the most frustrating realization of the evening. Lily forgot what she did 20 minutes after it happened, however, the look on my face obviously suggested that it was best to stay on the dog bed for the rest of the day.

I guess the question that I keep going back to is, “Why aren’t I in full meltdown mode?” and my one conclusion is it must be because I'm carrying a mellow, zen like child who's rationale is wearing off on me OR it could be my hormones and this "things happen for a reason so why lose sleep over it" sort of mindset. My rationale on the situation is that nothing will be solved with a meltdown. Making phone calls and keeping in touch with our neighbors is the best we can do right now. We should look at it as a life lesson. We always knew Lily wasn't a fan of female dogs, now that she's crossed the line past barking and growling maybe it's time for a behavior course at our local SPCA. After Calvin calmed down, I explained to him what could happen, I then told him about the time that my own dog bit my face and left me with a dimple. He wanted to know what Mimi (my mother) did and I told him she was mad and said we may have to get rid of her and I cried and got really upset. I told him that I understand now why she said that and that’s why I needed to be upfront with him so he knew what to expect to. He asked what he could do and I told him to pray, that's all we can do right now. We will fix what we can but everything else needs to be left in God's hands.

When to let go and let God

When I was 22 years old something happened. It was August of 2001 when I met my future husband and September when I enrolled in College and started a new job. Calvin was two years old. Something happened, something that made me stand up on my feet and get on with my life.

I was a receptionist at a computer software company; a job that I wasn't sure would ever turn into a career. I was in school going for my Associates Degree in Business Management with the hopes of opening up my own dance studio. My new boyfriend was kind and sweet and gave me my space, something different from the typical "going nowhere" type I was always attracted to.

When my first semester grades came back with A's and B's, I had a moment of "maybe I do know what I'm doing".  At work, my boss gave me side projects that I would complete to his exact specs and soon I realized that I was really good at my job and I liked it. I researched the company training programs and loaded up on all the online training courses. I begged my boss to send me to a CAD training course in Chicago and volunteered for anything that he would throw my way. There was this new sense of control that I had over my life. Juggling all of this while raising a two year old with ADD had its challenges but this time quitting wasn't an option. I was determined to prove to my son that I wasn't a failure and the life that he was born into was not the one I was going to give him.

My kind and sweet boyfriend was just what I needed at the time. While we were the same age, I believe the lack of a child made him a little younger and little more naive. He had a difficult relationship with his father but it was very clear that he had the utmost respect and admiration for his mother even though she kicked him out shortly before we met. I believe it was her strong will that made him open his eyes. He was living on his own, working at a pizza joint and playing with his car. At 22, he was doing just fine. We often talked about his passion for food. I often wondered what he was doing working at a pizza place. The new go getter in me decided to research colleges and I might have filled out an application or two for him. And then something happened.

He met my beautiful son and wasn't so sure, I respected him for his honesty and walked away quietly knowing who truly held my heart. It made it easier even though it still hurt. My mother made me watch lifetime movies and told me she would get me through it. I woke up one morning and suddenly felt rejuvenated, I took mental notes of everything I had in my life and it felt good. I was going to be just fine. I went to work and when I walked in the door that night my phone rang. It was Adam, I waited...briefly and then answered and, again, something happened.

His father's aneurysm changed everything. He didn't know who else to call. When my mother heard what happened, it was her eyes that told me to go. His brother who was only 14 at the time witnessed it at an indoor hockey game. There is a 60% chance of death with an aneurysm. Adam's father waved at me when he went into surgery and said "hello Liz". The nurse told us that his gesture was a very good sign, most of the time they don't remember much before surgery and it was really good that he knew my name. Adam’s father survived and his relationship with Adam is stronger than ever. His grandchildren, both of them, are very blessed to have him in their lives. Adam went off to College and got his Associates Degree in Culinary Arts and has been climbing the ladder at a large restaurant chain for the past 7 years. He said he made a mistake and I said “I know”. He’s a great father.

When I look back at old pictures of myself, I can see the chaos that plagued my life. I see it in my face and body and even in the background shots. There’s clutter all over the dressers, the clothes thrown on the floor, the circles under my eyes and the heavy emotion that sat in my hunched shoulders. Something happened, something good. It was at that age of 22 that I felt a new sense of control, freedom. It was also at that age of 22 that God made me quite aware that I wasn’t in control of everything. I’m a planner, I love to process and organize and detail things and maybe it’s become slightly OCDish and the curtains don’t have to necessarily be lined up the way they are. When I’m done, I take a deep breath and appreciate my life even more. So when I plan our home and our children and things don’t go the way I expected them to I just think back on when I was 22 and I smile. That would be God reminding me that I’m not in control and I should just thank him for giving me a new plan.  

Bumps, baby's and children

I walked into the kitchen the other day and caught Maisie putting her empty icy wrapper into daddy's back pocket while he was doing the dishes. I said, "Hey, where does that go?" and as she continued with her business she responded "trash". When Adam turned around to see what she was doing, she quickly ran out of the kitchen. I envy her sense of humor.

I went to pick up Calvin at karate last night to find him doing a kata routine for Hanshi. His movements were so precise and even when I caught his eye he didn't miss a beat. When he finished Hanshi came over to him and put a second stripe on his Green belt, one more and he can test into Brown belt. I envy his dedication.

At one time or another we've come across that glowing pregnant woman either standing in the grocery store or chasing after her children, the ones that might as well be frolicking through a field of daisies...I can guarantee it wasn't me. And yet, I envy those women that make it look so easy.

Someone asked me if I enjoyed pregnancy and I said with all honesty, "I try". And I do, I genuinely try to enjoy the miracle that is growing inside me. Even as I type and I feel my little one kick and roll and stretch, I'm trying really hard to enjoy the precious moment even if it prevents me from typing. With each of my pregnancies it always seems to be the most uncomfortable times that I cherish the most, or maybe it's just that I remember them the most. There were many times while I was driving when my son would suddenly get the urge to use my rib as a lever for his foot so he could stretch. My daughter would get the hiccups almost every day (cute right?), however, the constant repetitive thumping only made me nauseous. It was these moments that made me wonder, how is this fun? But these are the moments that I look back on and I distinctly remember who was who in the womb.

Even as babies my two have made their mark as individuals. There are many times when I say, "Calvin would never do that". With the 11 year old, I sometimes think the umbilical cord is still attached and yet I truly believe that Maisie took the scissors right out of the doctor's hands and did it herself. Will this new little one follow in his big brother or sister’s footsteps? He will have two very high energy, dominate personalities to compete with...it's no wonder I'm looking for names with the meaning "serenity", "rest", "comfort". The third child is usually the mellow one right?

I didn't know how I could love another child the way that I loved my first but it's amazing how much more your heart grows for the next. Calvin has a unique life that is sometimes filled with challenges and yet he is always so optimistic and loving. Maisie is this spitfire, she just knows exactly what she wants, something that took me 20 something years to figure out. We pass down our hair texture and eye color, maybe even our nose and we hope that they take on only our good traits. We don't often think about the traits that will set them apart from us. The ones we envy, that make us proud and wonder "where did they get that from". Adam would argue that my daughter is just like me and Calvin's OCD problems are obviously from my side of the family. So, yes if this one is mellow then I'll just take the credit for that as well. One thing is for sure, they are all very loved.

We're so excited to welcome baby boy Bruce to the clan in February 2011.

First Day of School

Calvin’s therapist said to me, "Have you ever seen that Target commercial? There's music playing in the background while these two children come walking down the aisle of school supplies with their shoulders hunched and their heads bowed down..." and I quickly said, "YES! The mother is pushing the full cart behind them while she dances and I believe there's even streamers or something!". He then says to me that it is hands down one of the best commercials because every parent he brings it up to remembers it.

There's a feeling, at the end of the summer, an itch that I get. I look forward to "back to school" time, not necessarily because my children are driving me crazy but because it brings back routine and structure. Calvin is going into the 6th grade, junior high. He has four teachers and a lot more homework. I caved this year and told him he could walk to the bus stop. I'm okay with it because he walks with an 8th grader, but what do we do next year? As Calvin attends a private school, he and his lone guardian stand across the street from 10+ public school children...waiting for the bus. Maybe it's the overprotective mother in me or the not-so-fond memories of bullying but I always worry. At the same time, I can only hold his hand for so long. He's 11 years old now and if I expect him to help with chores around the house and to help dress his sister and take out the trash then I believe he's earned the right to some individual freedom. So I go through all the rules (just in case), don't talk to strangers, don't respond to anyone that's harassing you, pay attention to cars and don't mess with any foreign objects. You know, the usual.

Ms. Maisie is starting at an official daycare. We put her in a home daycare for the first couple of years believing that a home setting would be more beneficial and nurturing for her. Now that she's hitting the "wonderful" two's and living in a world of mine, mine, mine, we thought it was time to move her to a more structured environment. Her new school has theme weeks and scheduled snack and nap times. They believe in positive reinforcement and no time outs. I believe I might have chuckled when they told me that. Hey I'm all for positive reinforcement, I'm also for the blue time out chair that sits in our hallway as friendly reminder that if you're not positive that's where you go. Needless to say, our little girl was not to thrilled with this new and unfamiliar place. As I left her hysterically sobbing on the first day I had flashbacks of my own experience in daycare and all I could think of was, "she'll never forgive me". But then I picked her up and the teacher gave me her activity sheets that listed all the music and books and art that they did for the day and I thought, "maybe this is a good place for her". And then...she passed right out at bedtime and even slept through the night and I thought, "hallelujah, why didn't we do this sooner!".

School , to me, means new beginnings and with that we have new challenges. We get into a rhythm at night with dinner and homework and prepping for the next day. Our mornings are timed and everything runs like clockwork (or so it should). Calvin has a white board with a list of items that he needs to do each morning. He showers (shower is on and clothes are waiting in the bathroom), he eats (already set up on the table and waiting), he makes his bed and get his socks and shoes on (which are waiting for him by the front door with his bag and lunch already packed). He has an hour to do all this and we're still working on perfecting it, I'm sure by June we'll have it down. One big hitch is whether or not Maisie wakes up during the process, she tends to be a bit distracting.

Even married mom's sometimes have the job of one. We manage and we are thankful for what we do have which is what's important. Adam works hard as a chef both outside and inside the home. And I usually make sure he gets his own to do list.

On the first day of school, we got up extra early and went out breakfast. It was a nice treat, a tradition that I would like to continue each year.