Momma's Little Monkey

Perhaps you have heard me mention how small Sterling is. The truth is, she is tiny. Any time she is in a group of kids her age, she is by far the smallest one.

She was born itty bitty and has stayed small.

Which is why it shouldn't have surprised me when she discovered that she could fit her whole body, including her head, between the spindles of our stairway.

Yep.

I about had a heart attack when she called out "hey momma, look, I up here" and when I looked up, her entire body was suspended on the WRONG side of the bannister.

The more frantically I demanded she move back in as I rushed towards her, the harder the little turkey waggled her eyebrows as she dangled as far out as her little arms would reach.

So when I reached her, I snatched her up with my heart pounding, and explained to her why it was incredibly dangerous to play like that.

She looked back a me with mirth swimming in those ornery little chocolate brown eyes and it was clear that she loved this game.

I was changing Bennett when I heard her little voice pipe up again "look momma, I naughty".

Want to guess how this story plays out? It really isn't hard to guess.

Yep. Homegirl was at it again. This time, she was smart enough to duck back in and run right before I got to her.

The third time was right before (early) bed. The finish line was in sight, she was in her jammies, and I was mentally preparing myself for a much needed break.

A bit too early, as always seems to be the case.

I went to grab Bennett's bottle when the little turkey called out "oh maaaamaaaaa, I up heeeeeerrrreeee".

And I knew without looking exactly where my little monkey would be.

This time, the second she saw me she ducked back inside the railing and took off laughing hysterically.

One of us is going to end up in a straight jacket, anyone want to place bets on which one it will be?

Cherish Your Gift

Today I went to a service for the husband of a dear friend, a friend I have known since high school.

They have two small children, each a year older than ours. She is way, way too young to be a widow.

If you read my blog regularly, you know that in addition to the mayhem, I live with a firm belief of wringing every drop of life out of the days you are given, because they ARE infinite.

But today really made me realize just how finite they are.

I think there is a part of me that has always secretly believed that I am one of the lucky ones. That I and my loved ones are invincible, that we will live forever. Sure, I talk a good game about living as much life as possible in the days I am given, but the truth is, on some level, I think those days will last forever.

That I will always have another tomorrow.

Which is ironic because I learned about loss early on. It is what taught me to live in the moment.

But somehow, dealing with such a profound loss so early on also gave me this warped sense of invincibility.

I survived that loss, came through the flames like a Phoenix, and it made me feel strong enough to stand up to any challenge.

Until I see surrealistic moments like this, where high school cheerleaders are made into young widows, and I have no choice but to face the truth.

Death is real.

And it comes for us all at some point, whether we are ready or not. Whether we have had our great love or written our great novel or had our great adventure, or not.

Goals are wonderful, but they are empty and hollow unless you are living and breathing towards them TODAY.

The reality is, no one knows how many tomorrows we each have. All we know is that we have this moment, right now, today.

And what you choose to do with today will make the difference between reaching your goals tomorrow, or being stuck in the same spot you are today.

You may may have 10 more tomorrows. Or thousands. Or hundreds of thousands. Or none.

No one knows, but what I do know is this: the today that you are living right now, this today currently in your hands, it is a gift. Cherish it, make the most of it, appreciate it for all that it is.

Make the most of it, because it is a gift that my friend's husband wasn't given.

I love you P, my heart goes out to you and your girls.

Ornery Humor: Business Name Brilliance

Best. Business. Name. EVER.

Even better than this one, and I didn't even think that was possible!

I don't know what visionary came up with this business name, but I thank them because it totally made my day :-)

Monkey Show Mayhem

Getting ready in the morning at our house is a bit like a monkey and pony show.

That's kind if like a dog and pony show, but with WAY more antics and acrobatics.

With two little monkeys running full tilt and only one of me, it's pretty certain that there is always someone doing something they aren't supposed to be doing.

Like this morning.

I had already changed Bennett when he immediately pooped again in his clean diaper.

I was snagging him a diaper when they both disappeared upstairs.

As a mom, the pitter patter of little feet is incredibly sweet... until they are somewhere they aren't supposed to be.

Then, it's the pitter patter of doom.

Like this morning, when they were in my bathroom, playing in the cabinets.

After calling to them and being thoroughly ignored, they were finally rousted from their fun times.

As Sterling was waking down the stairs, she looked me in the eye and said "Momma, I was thinking about you the whoooooooollle time."

Yeah, I'm sure she was.

And it probably went something like this:

Man, momma is going to be PISSED when she sees the mess we are making. Oh well, serves her right for thinking she deserves to have anything nice that is off limits.

Oooooh, she just called us again. And that time she sounded pissed. Thank god for the modern American disapproval of spanking, otherwise she would whoop our assess! Wonder how mad she can get before that totally gets overridden...

Yep, this is something she really LOVES. We must destroy it.

If I weren't already firmly set on sticking with two, mornings like today would help me in making my decision :-)

Picking Your Favorite (Nose)

Sterling and Bennett have spent the last few days apart due to dueling bouts of flu, RSV, bronchiatitis and cutting molars (for Ben).

Over the weekend, John and I took the "divide and conquer" approach. Sterling reigned supreme over the TV in our bedroom while Bennett ran rampant in the playroom, but they really missed each other.

Today was their first day back together, and like a pair of puppies, there has been lots of nipping and hair pulling as they reestablished their social order.

I knew things were back to normal when Sterling leaned over, picked Bennett's nose, and ate it.

Ahhhhh, motherhood is a beautiful, beautiful thing...

What's Really Important

Sterling has the flu, and has been a miserable, snotty, fevered, coughing mess for the last few days.

It's funny, but the comfort items she has chosen to keep around her are incredibly telling.

There is Bucket, the blanket that our good friend Teddi made for S on her first birthday, and has been a beloved member of the family ever since. There isn't a nap or a bedtime complete without a little Bucket love, and Bucket has dragged across countless floors and through numerous play dates ever since.

There is a pair of Bennett's jammies that I originally put on Sterling because she had fever sweated through hers.

I gave her a bath, and a pair of his jammies were the first clean thing handy after I got her out of the tub. She instantly recognized that they were his and did a little shimmy of happiness, and has been incredibly attached to them ever since. I dread the moment when I will have to peel their sweaty, Tylenol-sticky grossness off of her sick little body for good.

Every time we have to take them off for a potty break, it's a major ordeal and there is a part of me that inwardly cringes each time I slide those jammies back for cuddling in my bed.

And there is her "Vioyet". A Christmas card from her friend Violet who recently moved to Denver.

S found the card two days ago and has diligently carried it everywhere with her since. It's a bittersweet memento. Emblazoned with the word "Cheer", it simultaneously reminds us of good friends that we love so much, but at the same time of how far away they live.

The card is now a little battered and frayed around the edges, but she still hugs it to her tiny little chest and proudly proclaims "that's MY Vioyet" with a sigh of happiness.

And late last night, after hours of waking up repeatedly screaming in discomfort, S finally decided that what she really needed was a little FaceTime with Nana and Pop Pop. The ultimate comfort, some grandparenty love and the added benefit of it being illicitly after bedtime.

Looking at her horde of comfort got me thinking.

When she was miserable, it wasn't the beautiful house or the nice car or the awesome toys that Sterling looked to for comfort.

No, it was the loved ones and little pieces of their love that she wrapped around herself to find comfort in the depths of her sickness.

And there is something beautiful that we can all learn from that.

When we are stripped down to a miserable little nub, nothing more than a wretched, sad little bundle of raw nerves, and are looking for comfort, it is the loved ones that we choose to surround ourselves with that are the most important thing.

Really, they are the only thing that matters.

The great thing is that your loved ones aren't limited to the ones that you were born to. Sterling chose Violet, just as I have chosen many of my closest "family" members. The key is that you let yourself be honest and open enough in your heart that you let them in.

Just like a closed hand cannot hold on to anything important, a closed heart cannot hold on to anyone important. And if my kids have taught me anything, its how to live life with an open, loving heart.

Because at the end of the day, love truly is all that is really matters.

Shifty Snapping Shenanigans

An all time favorite game in our house is "sneak Momma's iPhone and take as many photos as you possibly can before she yanks it back from you".

Sounds awesome, right?

Sterling can snap more photos in the 3 seconds it takes me to snatch my phone back from her than any self respecting paparazzi.

And she rivals the best of them in snagging shots that are unflattering.

If there is an unattractive angle with bad lighting and I'm not wearing any makeup, you can be certain homegirl is going to capture it for posterity.

Which is why I am constantly going through my iPhone, deleting out horrible photos, and vowing to myself that I'm going to come up with a better way of hiding it next time.

And maybe never leave my bedroom without a full face of makeup. Buuuuut probably not that last one.

That shot below?

The little turkey totally staged it.

First she came over and playfully shoved her phone into my cleavage. Somewhere in that process, she ghosted my phone out of my bra strap. Not certain how she did it, but she did.

Evidently, I'm not only raising the most youngest pusher, but also the world's youngest pickpocket.

Then, as I was sitting there placidly, waiting like the patsy I was, she whipped out my phone and started snapping pictures to record the degradation.

That smile on my face was a brief "well done ma'am" tip of my hat as I was reaching up to snag it back from her.

But not before she managed to capture me in all my un made-up, non showered glory.

Yay.

Man Teething meets Man Cold: The Perfect Storm

You might have remembered me mentioning the phenomenon of Man Teething. It's like regular teething, but involves a baby man, and so there is a lot of extra whining.

Well this week we have the mother of all colds in our house.

Usually we are crazy healthy.

Outside of my insane bout with post partum preeclampsia, the toxic crazy sinus infection that would not leave and being hit by a car (all last year), we are a super healthy household.

I am dead serious when I say that this was only the second time I have ever taken one of my kids' temperatures. And it was my first go at one of those handy dandy little nose squeegee things (which are pretty damn fun, by the way).

But when we go down, we go down HARD!

Bennett has had this horrible, wet, croupy cough for about 6 days now, and a full accompaniment of nose snot to go with it.

But because he is a baby man, he isn't content to sit limply in my lap and be comforted.

Instead, he has strutted purposefully around all week with his chest out, letting out miserable roars of congested fury, waving his pudgy little fists like a miniature snotty gorilla.

Then, periodically, he comes to crawl all over me, whining and wiping slug trails on my arms.

Heaven forbid I make the mistake of trying to hug him to me, because then he glares at me in pure disgraced fury. His manhood bruised, his ancestors disgraced. And then he stalks off in snotty disgust to plot his revenge.

Good times.

But over the last couple of days things have really ratcheted up to the next level. And when I happened to get a glimpse into the back of B's mouth today, I realized why.

Homeboy is not only suffering from the mother of all colds, but he is concurrently cutting molars.

If you don't have kids, let me explain. Teething sucks. It super sucks. It's hours of whiny, snotty, whiny, whiny snotty fun. With some whining.

And molars are the pinnacle of teething. They can cause bruising, bleeding, and a hell of a lot of whining.

You get the picture?

Add that on top of a horrendous cold, and you have man misery that no amount of baby Tylenol can touch.

Then, last night Bennett started vomiting, which means we have added some new strain into the chest cold he was battling.

Shit.

And homeboy only slows down long enough to puke.

Or whine.

Wonder if anywhere local delivers wine. Or if not, how much baby Tylenol I have to drink to get the same effect...