La Primera

My little baby is four years old. I know, I’m going to sound like all the rest of the mommy bloggers out there by saying, waaah! It went so fast!

But, I’m a mom. So I get to say that.

I will also say that I’m loving seeing her developing personality every day. The way she says the funniest things. Adds new words to her vocabulary when I’m not even looking. And takes on my mannerisms and patterns of speech. And sarcasm. She’s so good at that.

She’s independent. And manipulative. And determined to get her way. And she sure knows exactly how to do that.

She doesn’t take crap from anyone. And will tell you in a heartbeat, “that is not nice of you!”

But underneath that, she’s still sensitive and sweet and as cute as can be.

She enjoyed the heck out of her birthday party. Which we almost had to cancel due to the high fever she had in the days leading up to it. As always, her timing was impeccable and she woke up on Saturday at a cool 98.6. All proud of her ability to be all better just in time.

She jumped in the jumper, played on the playground, but her favorite part of the party was the piñata. That continued long after the candy was collected. See for yourself.

And she didn’t stop until it was good and pulverized.

The morning I took the test, I held the stick in my hand and watched as the two lines formed. I wasn’t exactly surprised because I was, after all, four days late. But still, there’s the Oh My God It’s Positive! My eyes must have been big saucers.

I held out the test to Marco, and said, “congratulations, daddy!” He took the test and gave me a sarcastic look. “Whatever.” But then he saw the lines. “Wait. That’s not positive. Is it? What does it mean?”

“Two lines equals Yes, babe. You’re a daddy.”

We were both so excited but in disbelief. Over the next couple of days we kept saying, Oh my god. We’re going to have a baby.” We’d just look at each other, and “baby.”

From the get-go, I told him, “It had better not be twins.”

“What if it’s twins? If it’s twins, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Which of course would be all his fault, right? I mean his sister has twins. Half of his cousin has twins. Ok, so it runs on my side of the family too, but, still.

In fact, I upped it, “I’m gonna kick your ass, your sister’s ass, and your mom’s ass!”

We laughed. Because haha… twins. As if!

Um, so, yeah.

Last Thursday

MIDWIFE: “Have you thought about getting your tubes time at the time of delivery?”
ME: “Well, somebody is getting tied or snipped!” (eyes Marco)
MARCO: (deer caught in the headlights) “We’ll talk about it, when the baby is born!”
ME: “Unless it’s twins, then yeah. We are done.”
MARCO: (laughing) “Yes if there are twins, ok.”
MIDWIFE: laughs along with us “Ok, then.”

She proceeds with the exam… a very nice woman who I love already. She gets to the ultrasound and sticks the PROBE up the highway to get a look at my womb, and says “Aha! Interesting.”

I can’t see the screen, so I look at Marco. He looks at me, shocked, and holds up two fingers. I quickly realize that he’s not giving me the peace sign.

“TWO!!!! There are TWO??? Oh my God. Really?!!!!”

I cry/laugh and proceed to freak out. The midwife continues to look around at my babies while I am having a good freak attack and laughing hysterically. And most likely breaking Marco’s hand with my squeezing it.

We are still in amazement. But happy. We’re ecstatic. Trying not to worry about the how. This is just how it was meant to be and we will figure it all out. But Oh My God! TWO!

Tags: Babies, pregnancy, Twins, Working Mom

After turning 40, I tried to figure out why the fuck I was having such a hard time with it.  I mean it’s just a number, right?  And it’s not like I “look” 40.  I could easily pass for 35.

I realized that I had become wrapped up in what 40 was “supposed” to be like.  I wasn’t supposed to be 40 and renting a little casita.  I wasn’t supposed to be “starting over.”  I wasn’t supposed to be in debt.  or divorced.  or having a foreclosure on my credit.  or working at a job that feels like a life a sentence.

But I had to slap myself out of it.  Because all that doesn’t mean shit!

I’m 40!  And I have found the love of my life.  And Starting Over is amazing because for once in my life I know who I am and what I need.  And my girls are happy.  And I may not be living in my “dream” home.  Or working at my ‘dream” job.  Or buy the latest Coach bag on a whim.   But I wealthy beyond my wildest dreams when it comes to what truly matters.

And sometimes?  The most unexpected thing comes when you need it most.

OMG!!!

Tags: baby, forty, Love, pregnancy

I was going to do that whole blog every day in May thing.  Being my birthday month and all, I thought it would be the perfect time to get my blogging self back into the habit.

So that didn’t really work.

On my birthday, I was going to do this whole I’m forty and how fabulous forty is and rah rah I’m forty.

That didn’t work either.

And of course Mother’s Day.  That totally deserved a mushy post of how tears sprung to my eyes at the I love mom card and poem that Isa gave me.  And the hand print tea towel Gabi made at school.  And the roses from Marco and the girls.  And my pretty purple necklace.

But I didn’t make that happen either.  Ten days into the month, two days post 40, and 1 day after Mother’s day, I’m finally setting my fingers to the keyboard.

Because, I was totally unprepared for the funk that forty has brought.  I mean I knew I was turning forty.  It’s not like I’d forgotten how to count.  39… yup.,.. 40.  That’s what comes next.

So, why on earth have I been in a big grumpy frumpy funk about it?

I can think of lots of reasons.  None too drastic, though.  All at the heart of the big tock clicking, I guess.

And then there’s PMS which totally doesn’t help anything at all.  The bitch of getting older is that my hormones have turned on me and I’m more “PMS-ey” than I have ever been.

But my birthday was not without greatness.

People all over twitter and facebook took time to post very nice happy birthday wishes.  You all hold a special place in my heart.  Especially the ones that made me laugh in the middle of my funky forty fest.

Marco and I had breakfast with my girls before taking them to their father’s house.  After that, we did a little shopping for us all.  New dresses and sandeles for me and the girls.  A new shirt for Marco.  From there, we met up with my parents for an afternoon showing of Iron Man 2.

In the evening, I went out with my Marco and met up with Megan and Miss and celebrated by watching UFC.  Weird.  Totally not what I would have thought I’d do on my birthday ever.  But you know what?  It was fun!  Just goes to show, don’t count out anything.  I might even be persuaded to watch again next moth or whenever the ultimate match happens again.  Or the next one after that.  I kinda liked it.  [So much that I lost my mind and left my thoughtful presents at the table and I’m so sad about that but we’re concentrating on the good stuff so I’m just gonna say that I hate that I did that and…  Big Pitiful Sadface... totally sucks.]

I ended up spending all morning in bed on Mothers day.  Slightly hungover.  I’m such a lightweight in my old age.  I only had three drinks over a 5 hour period.  I think it was the pomegranate martini that did me in at the end of the evening.  So it was a good thing that my parents cancelled the brunch plan and we changed to dinner plan.

I was still in my funk throughout dinner, but the food was so good and I tried to enjoy myself.  The great thing about having Marco in our lives, is that we are a true family.  He has picked up the dad role and become my side by side parent with the girls.  This was so helpful while I was being moody and got home and went straight to bed while he got the girls ready and tucked them in to bed.  Having some “me” time on Mothers day really helped me kick the funk in the ass.

Because when it comes down to it, I’m pretty damn grateful to have this life at 40.  And maybe things aren’t “perfect.”  But really, is anything ever perfect?  It’s through life’s trials that we can appreciate the joy.  I was reminded when my sister sent me this message to my blackberry as I was settling down in bed:

<i>“It’s so great to see how much Marco loves you and the girls.  And to see you so happy. ♥” </i>

So yeah, 40 and fabulous.  I’ll take it!

Tags: birthday, celebrate, Friends, happy, PMS

The other day, the preschool director brought a matter to our attention.

It seems my little princess has become smitten with the cute boy in class and has claimed him as her own.  And over the past few weeks, she has stepped up her game.

She knows what she wants and does what she needs to let it be known.  The boy is hers.

She tells the other girls that he is HERS.  And holds his hand.  And gives him hugs.  And tells him to follow her here and there around the playground.  Under the tunnel.  On the tire swing.  Wherever she wants.  She rests her head on his shoulder.

Yeah.  My preschooler is that little girl!

So, I had to have a talk with her.  On what’s appropriate behavior with little boys.  And that I’m happy that she has made friends with this little guy.

But, kissing and hugging isn’t for little girls and boys.

She’s been watching too many princess movies, perhaps.  And wanting her own happily ever after.  Can’t say I blame her.  I’m enjoying my fairy tale.

It was a delicate conversation, but I think I handled it.

But in no uncertain terms, she let it be known to me, “Mom, he’s my friend.”

And that part is just so sweet, I can hardly stand it.

Tags: boys, cute, girls, kids, motherhood, preschool

About a week ago, I began a post here.

I was going to tell you how stressed out I had been.  Riddled with anxiety.  Not sleeping well.  And just not myself.

Plus, I knew I needed to get in better shape.  And I was a month away from the March for Maddie, coming up now on April 24.  Now it’s nine days away, and I’m doing my best to make sure I walk.

I knew stress was getting the best of me.  I resolved to get healthy and began walking the treadmill.  But stress loomed and while the walking was helping the anxiety a bit, my immune system was tanking.

I was hit with a flu.  Derailed.  In bed with barely any energy.  Flu turned into bronchitis.

And here I am today.  Frustrated.  Burning through my sick time at work.

And, well, sick!

Of course, I didn’t get the good kind of bronchitis that is cured with antibiotics.  No.  Viral.  Inhalers.  Super cough medicine.  Added a couple of days of prednisone.  And some allergy meds for good measure.

And, of course.  REST.

Which doesn’t do much for my stress levels.  And the treadmill?  Gathering dust again.

The good news is, I went in for bloodwork, and I do not appear to be suffering from any other malady than the usual stuff.  So, after this bug run its course, I’ll be good as new.  Or rather, good as I was anyway.

I am forever changed by your presence.  Your smile and spirit continues to light the world.  Your life made a difference.

***

Maddie’s parents, Heather and Mike, have set up a non-profit organization to honor their beautiful daughter.  Please consider making a donation to Friends of Maddie.  Your contribution will help to make the transition to NICU life easier for the parents and families of babies like Maddie.

Driving home from child care pickup:

Isa (8yo): Mom! Gabi (3yo) learned a bad word! She learned S H E T!

me: you mean I T?

Isa: yeah, S H I T! At daddy’s house!

me: who did she learn it from?

Isa: Mom… our whole family says it. Even grandma.

me: Oh, but you said she learned it at your dad’s house.
(self righteous, aren’t I?)

Isa: Oh, yeah. She said it at Dad’s. But you know everyone says that word. Even you.

me: (less self righteous) Well, yes, I have said it before.

Isa: And dad says it a lot.

(self righteousness returns).

Isa: She said it at a restaurant!

Oh! but don’t worry, mom! It wasn’t a fancy restaurant. It was only Islands.

me: Oh, well that’s a relief.

Isa: And Dad didn’t even say anything!

me: He didn’t?

Isa: No. She kept saying it. But he ignored it so she wouldn’t think it’s a big deal to keep saying it.

me: And then what happened?

Isa: She stopped.

me: Well, that’s good.

Isa: I just thought you should know.

Gabi: Shit.

• The day after my last post sucked with getting Gabi ready.  It was worse.  She ended up standing in front of her school and peed her pants because she was so upset at being forced to wear what I put on her.  So she got her way, because they changed her at school.  But! I didn’t yell.
• The rest of the week was spectacular when it came to the “routine.”  I started a new beditme regimen with them.  Bought  a new nightlight.  Now, every night I lie down with them with the tv off, in total silence, cuddles, and after 10 minutes, I get up kiss them goodnight and leave.  And. they. fall. asleep. and. stay. there!  It blows my mind!
• Some sucky things happened this week.  But I’m doing my damnedest to remember that the bad doesn’t define my life as a whole.  It just is.  And it just has to be dealt with.  That won’t be fun.  But I do not need to let any anxiety get to me.
• I bought my ticket to Blogher 10! Yay! (really that was a few weeks ago, but plans are starting to form!)
• When the day becomes shitty, snuggling up next to my Marco each night makes everything better .
• Six months ago today, I set eyes on my Marco again after 17 years. And I’ll never let go again. 
• Still working on figuring out this theme business on wordpress.  It’s a mystery that I must solve.
• Today is Miss’ birthday!  I just love that girl!  The funny, sweet, Dodger-lovin’, hawt, fun, silly, smart, talented mama that is Just One Miss… you must know her!  She’s the cutie in the middle!

see this pretty face?

Morning routines around Casa Primera can get a little crazy.  It’s not uncommon for me to be barking orders to the girls, tripping over things, running back into the house for forgotten items.  It’s my least favorite time of day.

First of all, I am SOOOO NOT a morning person!

And the little apples don’t fall far from the tree.  Well, at least the smallest apple.

And this morning sucked hard.  The time change slapped me across the face bigtime.

I got up late.  And Gabi was a total zombie.  I yelled at her repeatedly, as I ran around throwing my own clothes on, brushing teeth, getting my coffee, throwing my hair up in a ponytail.  The clocked ticked on and Isa was going to be late.  So I grabbed the barely awake little one and carried her in pj’s and bare feet to the car so we could make it to Isa’s school at the last second of drop off.

We came back home to finish, and Gabi refused to wear what I had picked out for her.  She wanted something “pwetty.”

And then I lost it.  Mean mama came out, and I yelled at her to get to her room and pick out whatever pwetty thing she wanted because I did not have time for her antics.

Certainly it’s not the first time I’ve yelled at my kids.  But this morning?  I was beyond my limit.  I’m surprised the house wasn’t shaking, I was so angry.

Gabi ran to the kitchen, full on crying trying to catch her breath.  And I yelled some more, “why are you in the kitchen?!!! I said, go to your room and find something to wear!  Why are you in the kitchen?!!!”

And then she said it.

“you’re scaring me.”

Shit.

And I flashed to the many times I saw their father yell at Isa and at my stepkids.  And how they feared him.  And I didn’t want to be that kind of parent.  I couldn’t change him.  But I can change me.

I picked her up, and took her to her room, and just sat on her bed holding her for a few minutes.  She tried to wiggle away at first. But finally she buried her head in my chest and calmed down.

We both calmed down.

And I talked to her about having to do what she’s supposed to do in the morning.  And that I didn’t want her to be scared of me.  But that I need her to be responsible for making sure she doesn’t make us all late.

Tonight, she put on her pj’s herself.  We picked out what she’s going to wear in the morning.  And I reminded her of our talk this morning and that she has to get up when I tell her to.

Shit.  I’m almost 40 and I still suck at getting my ass out of bed and ready on time.  How can I yell at a 3 year old about it?  I should go pick out my clothes for tomorrow and set the coffee timer now.