So when my Mother’s Day plans came to a crashing halt, I was feeling rather cranky… and umm… sorry for myself. But then I stopped and thought,
what do I really want to do on Mother’s Day anyway? I want to hang out with my kids, the ones who make me feel unbelievably grateful to be a mom… I want a new photo with the two of them because I’ve been avoiding the camera lately (see above) AND I want a bit of alone time to finally update my blog which I haven’t touched in oh, let’s see, over a year! I was thinking that I’d wax poetic about how grateful I am to be a mom... and I am... well most of the time....but then I decided that what I really want is to say thank you to all of the most important moms in my life.
Thank you to my mom, who after being told by the adoption agency that she and my dad were too old for a newborn and getting blessed with my delightful 6-month-old brother who drank cold milk straight from the fridge and slept through the night, she OOPS got blessed with me, a NEWBORN! She somehow managed, in her old age (38!), to carry me for 9 long months and survived all those sleepless nights of heating bottles and changing diapers. She kept me safe through my childhood, put up with me when I was way less than delightful... when I turned up my nose to the meals she prepared, used up all the hot water, when my room was so horribly messy that the police had to tell her it had been ransacked by burglars and my mother had to explain that,
no, it’s always like that. She fed me, clothed me and always reminded me to take a jacket. She believes with complete certainty, as only a mother could, that if Oprah were to stumble across the blog I never update that I would be skyrocketed into fame and fortune as a bestselling author.
She’s the reason I thought it was perfectly logical to take up painting at 41. Actually she’s the reason I feel like I can take on pretty much any craft, hobby or home improvement project that strikes my fancy. Because she did. She can do ANYTHING. She can sew a wicked ball gown, build a Victorian dollhouse completely wired with electrical, trace the family history all the way back to Adam and Eve. The woman has had more hobbies than anyone on the planet and I only hope that I’ll have the nerve to take up golf lessons, bear making, genealogy, astrology, meditation, visiting haunted houses and cemeteries, belly dancing or giving birth while under hypnosis… no wait… not those last two. I’ll never learn to sew either. Probably because Mom never let me touch the good sewing scissors. However she’s probably responsible for my photo book making addiction because I spent a lifetime watching her make personal, heartfelt and usually very funny gifts for all the people she loved. She will be 80 this year and she’s still going strong and still taking on new hobbies… like gardening, fishing and collecting frogs. She’s the best mom in the whole world.
Thank you to my mother-in-law, Andrea. When I hear other women complain about their mother’s-in-law I always breathe a huge sigh of relief because I totally lucked out in the mother-in-law department. She appreciates photos and photo books more than the most expensive gifts which is a very good thing because I wouldn’t have a clue how to go about choosing the most expensive gifts. She never criticizes me or tells me how to do things. She never gives me grief about the areas I am lacking in… Even when the areas I’m lacking in are ones that a mother would find important in one marrying her son or raising her grandchildren. Cooking and cleaning? Eh. And if I could choose any grandma in the world for my kids, I would choose her. She adores them completely, lights up when they walk into the room, reads to them, gets down on the floor and plays with them endlessly, will spend hours talking to them on the phone even if they’re telling her the same story for the fifth time.
Thank you to my Grandma T* who I feel so fortunate to have. I had wonderful grandmas who I dearly miss but I really lucked out when I married Scott. I get to share his grandma and I love her as much as I loved my own. I love that my children have a great-grandmother to share stories and time with. We love going to her house where the girls head straight for the stacking dolls and the Rubik's cube. She's always so excited to see us and she always makes us feel so welcome and loved. It doesn't hurt that she feeds us well too!
Thank you to my oldest sister, Deni who gives the best and most practical advice. Turns out you shouldn’t attempt to cook a turkey in a 175 degree oven until it reaches an internal temperature of 325. Turns out there’s really not much you can cook in a 175 degree oven. Who knew, right? Deni did. And why do they let me set the oven to 175 then? Deni can tell you these things. And Deni won’t make fun of you until after the crisis passes. Then and only then will you two laugh about it until you cry. Deni is one of the few people on the planet who understands with frightening clarity how my brain operates. Because genetics blessed her with a very similar brain. So I don’t have to explain how or why I did the latest stupid thing I did because she just GETS it and can probably tell you a story about the time she did the same thing. Oh and if you have spent all day giggling with Deni via instant messenger over random stuff and suddenly remember at 5:14pm that you haven’t even thought about what to have for dinner… you can throw out any two ingredients you happen to have on hand and she can give you at least five ideas for what you can have on the table by 6. She’s AMAZING that way. She’s also always there when I need her and I couldn’t ask for anything more in a sister.
Thank you to my other sister, Darin, who served as kind of a second mom to me growing up… and I am still growing up. She didn't do it in a bossy know-it-all way but in a super cool older sister I-want-to- be- just-like-her- when-I- grow-up kind of way. Darin got me through the drama that was adolescence. She was the one I went to with the important questions about boobs, boys, zits and life. Darin taught me how to get out of cleaning my room so I could get back to reading. Darin taught me about hovering over public toilets and how to prepare for a job interview. Darin found me the PERFECT BRA (and yes, that one deserves capital letters). Darin is the one who, when you feel like your entire universe is falling to pieces, can somehow explain in two paragraphs how you can put it all back together again. And she’ll make you feel like you would have eventually come up with the solution yourself. Darin is like a cheerleader in my head telling me I can do anything. Darin is incredibly wise and wickedly funny. Darin is the one I wanted by my side when having both of my babies. And Darin is the one I hope to hang out with in the old folks home. Actually I sort of look forward to those days of adult diapers because Darin very frequently makes me laugh til I nearly wet my pants.
Thank you to my sister-in-law, Cara, the little sister I always wanted and finally got when I married Scott. What I didn’t expect was that I would spend so much time looking up to my little sister. I have always adored her and admired her abilities to pull off superhuman feats like cooking gourmet meals or entertaining a houseful of people as if it were nothing. She’s the only one I know who truly appreciates a great font as much as I do. She’s a brilliant proofreader AND she’s the one I have always been able to count on to give me a brutally honest opinion if I ask. She’s funny and smart and can tell me what to wear no matter what the occasion.
But she has gone through so much in the last few years while trying to become a mom. Some of the things she has faced I can only imagine might have sent me to bed for months, yet somehow she has faced it all with unbelievable self-assurance, grace and incredible strength. Sophia and Ava are lucky little girls to have her as a mom… and I am incredibly lucky to have her as my sister.
Thank you to my sister-in-law, Michelle, who is like the Kate Middleton of our family. Not only would she look super cute in a tiara but she has the kind of poise, elegance and grace that would have fit right into a royal family. Yet somehow she landed in ours. And she seems truly thrilled to be one of us. (Sucka!) She is unbelievably sweet, kind and lovely and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her get mad. If I were to tell her that my brother is incredibly lucky to have her I know… I KNOW… she would tell me that, in fact, SHE is the lucky one. She’s just like that… All head over heels in love with my brother… All sweetness and light. And we are so lucky to have her.
And lastly, thank you to all of my mom friends who keep me sane on a regular basis… The ones who, on the days when I’m feeling completely overwhelmed, because my house is never clean enough and the cat just threw up and and finding a pair of clean matching socks or my keys seems like an impossibility... they remind me that it’s not the end of the world, that we all have days like this and tomorrow will be better.
Thank you to Beth M. who will go to Target with me three times in one week and the only one on the planet who could laugh so hard with me in the container aisle while discussing Space Bags that the rest of the customers had to think we were drunk or crazy. The one who “attended” the Royal Wedding with me in tiaras, boas, a ton of plastic bling and sweatpants. The one who will trek from one end of Safeway to the other to help me track down a missing cart full of groceries and never lecture me for leaving it unattended. The one who can drop by unannounced and I don’t feel even the tiniest need to make excuses for what a disaster my house is or why it’s 1pm and I still haven’t showered. The one who is always a phone call away if I need someone to pick up Amanda from school, need to arrange a last minute playdate or if I just need a Starbucks break. The one who drops by for coffee and doesn’t mind watching me fold laundry. The one I can call in the middle of a recipe if I need to borrow a can of chiles or a teaspoon of a spice I’ve never heard of. She's also the one who will order a pizza for me if dinner can’t be saved. My mom used to talk about friends like her who lived around the corner and dropped by to chat over coffee and I thought, “Someday I hope I’ll have those kinds of friends” and now I do.
Thank you to Wendy, my SSFL, who arrived at precisely the moment when I really needed a friend. And who, if I were to have written a description for that friend I needed, would have exactly fulfilled that description in every single way. Wendy, who is so like me in so many ways that I had to call my mom to make sure I didn't have another sister she never mentioned. Wendy, who always takes the photos I forgot to take and usually emails them to me before I remember I forgot to take them. The one who would have gone to her deathbed with the story about the toilet seat cover stuck to my butt. The one who has shared room-mom duties with me for three years now even though every year we say we’ll never sign up again. Who is always just an instant message away when crisis strikes. Who cheers me up when I’m having a bad day after listening to me whine in horrifying endless detail about that bad day. Who always knows what homework is due and if today was a minimum day and which teacher we need to hope our kids get next year. Who is always smiling and makes me laugh like crazy. Wendy, who gets as excited as I do about all things crafty and who can usually remember which blog had that super cute idea about whatever it is I happen to need super cute ideas about. Wendy who encourages me endlessly and makes me feel like I can do anything.
Thank you to Beth B. who has known me since I was 12… the friend I don’t talk to daily but am able to pick up with as if we do whether it’s been 6 minutes or 6 months. The one who knows all of my secrets and never judges me, the one who taught me how to drive (yes, go THROUGH the stop sign) and who caught all the balls that happened to come my way in right field saving me from countless head injuries. She’s the one I shared my first apartment with. The one who has such a huge heart for giving that she not only will stop on the side of the road to help random strangers (Don’t get in the van, Beth. You’re in the van, Beth. Just don’t drive away, Beth. You’re driving away, Beth!) but who has also been a surrogate mom to four babies helping other parents get the children they desperately wanted. Beth is like Superwoman in my mind. Multi-tasking extraordinaire. Able to leap tall buildings while driving a van full of children, and putting on a fundraiser and a school play while baking 8 kinds of pies and she’ll swing by Starbucks to grab me a coffee on the way. The one who I have had countless sleepovers with, the one who loves a good tearjerker as much as I do, who. The one who, if it was suddenly determined that laughter can make me you lose weight, I would spend every last second with. She reminds me of who I am, how far I’ve come and how far I can go.
Thanks to all of you amazing moms who make my life better in so many different ways. I love you all. Happy Mother's Day!(Yes I know this was posted in 2011, but when my mom requested a copy of my blog book she insisted that this post be a part of it and I wasn't about to say no. I love you, Mom!)
One of the first things that happened in February was that Amanda finally lost her first top tooth. I say finally because it was kind of a long drawn out process. Not only did it take a long time but it was obvious that the permanent tooth was trying to push out the baby tooth, and it just got lower and lower and lower... but it wasn't very loose. Not loose enough to pull... Wasn't Amanda's best look though. I'm not going to show you the before picture but if it had gone on much longer I was afraid she might start to look like this:
But how cute is she in the after photos? These photos were taken the day after she lost her tooth and her new one was already about a quarter of the way in!
We saw Gnomeo & Juliet.
We saw Disney on Ice.
I also decided I should attempt some creative Valentines this year. The photoshoots went something like this:
And the Valentines turned out like this:
Do you know what this cat really needs?
A pillow!
Also more comfortable with a pillow: Justin Bieber.
Alyssa did a lot of playing in February. Alyssa pretended to be an artist. 
She pretended to be a chef.
She pretended to be a princess. (For the record, that is MY faux fur coat... I'm guessing circa 1974-ish.) 
She had a pretend wedding where she got to be the beautiful bride, complete with pretend flowers and pretend tattoos.
She had spectacular pretend wedding rings.
And a pretend groom who was not all that excited about pretending to get married. 
It's never a good sign when your pretend groom has to be dragged down the aisle by your pretend maid of honor.
After a brief discussion, the pretend wedding was called off.
But from the looks of this photo, the pretend reception must have gone on all night. 
After Universal, I have to say that January is pretty light on cute kid pictures. That's because I was hugely focused on decluttering my house. It was sometime last year that I started watching all those hoarding shows. You know the ones that start by taking you on a tour of a house that is packed to the ceiling with a lifetime full of stuff? Those shows fascinate me... and scare me... a lot! I noticed that the people with hoarding problems all seemed to have similiar stories: "I was always kind of messy and I liked to save things but nothing too unusual. But then _____________ (fill in the blank with divorce/death of a loved one/children leaving home/random disaster) and things completely spiraled out of control..."
I've realized that my attachment to things has very little to do with the actual things but everything to do with the memories those things evoke. So after the girls and I spent at least an hour playing I-spy with this photo (below) that I took several years ago of some of my Christmas ornaments, I realized that they already knew the stories behind many of the ornaments... Amanda would say, "This one full of sand and seashells represents my first trip to the beach." And Alyssa would say, "This is from the time that the Not-Real-Santa called me Booger Baby!" Even without the STUFF in front of them, the memories were still there.
Okay, I'm a photo nut so of course I'd already thought about taking photos of all the stuff... but I'm also lazy and couldn't actually imagine taking photos of each and every THING, whatever it was, separately. We had a LOT of stuff after all. And what was I going to do with all those photos anyway? Become the crazy lady with a house crammed full of photos? You know who I'll be showing all those photos to? My 23 cats.
Alyssa also learned how to tie her shoes in January. When Amanda learned to tie her shoes she was actually a couple of years older than Alyssa. Mostly because she rarely wore shoes that needed to be tied. When I did finally teach her it took a while. A bit of practice and a bit of "I'll never be able to do this!" before she caught on. It was a much faster process with Alyssa.
We also did a lot of painting in January. One of my most vivid memories of Kindergarten is from the day we put on smocks and got to finger paint. Just thinking about that day can still make me a teeny bit giddy. I only remember doing it once but I remember thinking it was the best thing on the planet earth. So I'm going back to my kindergarten roots and just PLAYING. My paintings are probably only slightly better than they were back then but I'm just as giddy... Yeah those are mine, not the girls... Scott took one look at the one of the house and said, "That is the worst designed roof I've ever seen. The rain is all gonna puddle up at the ends and it's gonna rot." I wonder if he was this practical in Kindergarten. 
