Three Years (and a giveaway!)

My baby is three years old.  His birthday was this past Sunday.

My baby isn't really a baby anymore.  He's the first one to tell you that. "I not a baby, I a big boy," he proclaims.

It seems impossible.  In some ways I feel like it was five minutes ago he was a newborn.  In other ways, I can't believe he's not 15.  A lot of life has happened in the last three years.

My baby, my little big boy, Wade, is a funny kid.  He's the stereotypical baby of a big family--we let the rules bend a bit for him, he farts to get attention and he'll do anything his big brothers and sister tell him to do.  And yes, all of this scares the hell out of me for his teenage years.

I've always loved baby Wade, but life with three older kids has been so busy since he arrived.  It's been challenging to really be there for him like I was the other big kids when they were babies.  We drag him from one sporting event to the next.  He watches big kid shows, plays big kid games and says more big kid words/phrases than most two-year-olds.  He's never really had a schedule set in stone or a regular nap time.  

I worry.  I worry that he's missing out.  I'm filled with guilt.

The other day, I pointed to a picture of Clifford the Big Red Dog and he had no clue.  He'd never heard of f&#*ing Clifford? Yet, he can name every character on Disney's Good Luck Charlie? My heart sank, I felt like a failure as a parent.  So the next few days the house became Operation Clifford--I found all the old books and DVR'd the cute little Clifford shows on PBS.  "I yike Cwifford," he announced the other day.  Mission accomplished, motherhood status back to adequate.  Phew.

Now that the older three kids are in school all day, he and I are buddies.  Since he has decided naps are for babies, we are together all day long without any breaks.  I'm not complaining, which honestly I find a little shocking.  I get a kick out of his kind of funny and you know what? I "yike Cwifford" too.  

Baby, I mean big boy, Wade helps me slow down a little.  He reminds all of us to keep life a little more simple.  

On the days when I am feeling less than adequate as a mother, sometimes it's not just Wade, but how the others take care of him, that remind me that everything is better than fine.  When I watch my other children reach out and care for him when he's hurt, read a story to him at bed time or simply sit and watch Clifford with him it makes my heart swell with love.  I lose the guilt.

Wade is a sweet baby/big boy.  He's a Hot Wheels obsessing, set up making, joke cracking, Monsters Inc. loving, tricycle riding, amazing little three-year-old wonder boy.  He is a sweet exclamation point at the end of our family.

****Giveaway Alert****
Wade's a cute kid and I sure do love him, but like I said there have been times when the last three years feels like it's been more like 15.  I'm tired, people, and my eyes are showing it.   That's why I'm trying Rodan + Fields Anti-Age Eye Cream.  I've heard amazing things about it.  

I'm trying it and now you can too.  Leave a comment here and you'll be entered to win ANTI AGE Multi-Function Eye Cream - which retails for $59. 



The cream  "combines powerful peptides to minimize the appearance of crow’s feet, help reduce the appearance of both puffiness and dark under eye circles while special optical diffusers instantly brighten the eye area. Ophthalmologist tested, this formula is ideal for treating the delicate skin around the eyes."  Yup, that sounds about right.  



Leave a comment and you could walk away with some pretty amazing sounding eye cream.

Want more information? Click on the link below or if you live in the Metro Detroit area come to a special event on Wednesday, October 10, from 7-8:30 p.m. at Rochester Community House in Rochester.  For more information contact my talented, brilliant friend Dodi June, the R+D consultant hosting the event and giving us the eye cream, at the link below:

https://dodi.myrandf.com/Shop/Product/AAEY015

Leave a comment here and you could win.

The Letter From Me To Me

"What the...?," my son, Peyton, uttered in disgust at a video game the other day.  "Oh my God!"

He was playing Wii with a friend while his little brothers watched (like hawks).  I asked him to come into the kitchen for a quick chat, where I proceeded to tell him we do not talk like that in this house.  

"Mom, I didn't say anything wrong, I'm almost a pre-teen," he protested.  And he's right, he didn't say anything too horrible.  I explained that he has little brothers and they are watching him and listening to him all the time.

Peyton not only has a lot of influence as little brother JT's first base coach, but everywhere.

"For goodness sake, Wade is only 2.  I don't want him to go to preschool next year singing "Sexy and I Know It" and say "what the...?" when the snack isn't what he wants," I explained to Peyton.

He rolled his eyes and went back to his video games.

You might be surprised at my conservatism about language since I have been known to have quite a love of swearing.  But I don't swear in front of my children and plus I'm a fucking grown up. 

But there's more going on then saying the Lord's name in vain or implying h-e-double hockey sticks.  I feel my oldest pulling away.  Part of it is fun to watch as he is getting a little less shy and branching out a bit.  Part of it sucks.  He is starting to eye roll more and is getting very frustrated with people, okay mostly me.

Yesterday after getting 235 eye rolls and "mom you are so annoying" looks from my son, I escaped to the front porch.  I went through the mail and found a letter to me, from me.  What the...?

I opened it up and remembered it was from 4th and 5th Grade Church Camp that I chaperoned last winter.  If you are a believer, this is one of those God moments.  Those moments when the God/the universe/a higher power is looking out for me or just really awesome timing from talented, amazing youth coordinators at my church.  
Here's an excerpt from the letter to me from me:

So, I am on a church retreat with Peyton.  I never pictured myself chaperoning something like this, but is has been so much fun.

Fun because I've gotten to connect with Peyton and his friends and some of my friends from church.

Mostly it's been so great watching Peyton be so happy, so involved, so silly, so thoughtful.

Best feeling ever to see and know your kids are happy.

I hope by the time I read this letter, I will have had a million more happy moments with Peyton and the other kids.

Yeah, I cried.  Then I hugged Peyton.  He rolled his eyes and looked confused.

Then the kids and I went on a bike ride--I was determined to have some damn happy moments. 

As the three older kids biked far ahead of me it hit me.  This is the beginning of new chapters for all of them.  In less than two weeks, they will all be in school all day.  

Part of me thought how fun it's going to be to see them all grow up and find their own path.  Part of me thought how there will be so much that will suck.  I am going to start writing myself letters and asking people to mail them back to me, just to remind me of all the million good moments.  Letters to remind me of the path that I am on as a parent--to be strict when I need to be, relaxed when I can be; intentional, compassionate, patient, accepting, forgiving and steadfast. (No matter how many fucking eye rolls I get.)

Back Together

Everyone is back home again--the older kids are back from Grandpa Camp, my reunion is over and done with and Tim isn't traveling.  The six of us are back together and it's pretty great. 

This is our fancy sign the little boys and I made for the big kids' homecoming.  

My kids laughing upstairs (or even fighting downstairs) is such a welcome sound.  All feels right with the world.

I know all the boys need haircuts.  And doesn't Wade looks like a Frat boy in this picture?

After not being together because of various travels for over two weeks, we sat down to dinner together last night.  

It was my no means perfect.  Peyton burped and acted like an obnoxious tween.  Lucy snarled at her meal and refused to try the fish.  JT was pretty chill, but cried when he couldn't have a Pepsi.  Wade completely flipped out and melted down in his room.  Tim couldn't handle the noise and looked like he was going to go to his room and melt down.  It was a mess.  But it was our mess and I loved it.

It's like they can't get close enough to each other.  I know it won't last and they'll be fighting a lot more by Thursday, but it's nice.

They have a couple more weeks of slumber parties left before a stricter schedule when school starts.  That's going to be fun.