All That Matters

Boys.

Lots and Lots of Boys.

There are smells in my house that I am not sure about.  It never fails that they all point to the other one when I ask "what is that smell?" -- I'm convinced even Lucky is in on the joke.

Bodily functions are all the rage in this house.  Potty training is slow though.  "When he's ready, he will" is what I'm told.  Well, he better hurry up because I'm going to have to start buying Depends instead of Pampers soon.

We clean a lot of toilets around these parts....because when Jack chooses to use it, he mostly misses.

So, there's that.

I think things are going well, but sometimes I can't tell.  I can't see the forest for the trees.  The boys are thriving....and Matt and I are surviving.  

Parenting....it's all joy and no fun.  (no, really, there's a whole book about it by Jennifer Senior)  Everyone probably has their own take, but the book is about how children reshape our lives - for better or worse.  It's stressful and fun and joyful and stressful.

"We are furiously improvising our way through a situation for which there is no script."

WORD.  What SHE said.

Jennifer's take is similar to my own....parenting isn't always sunshine and rainbows.  And that's ok.  I don't remember pre-children marriage being that way either.  And I CERTAINLY don't think back on my single days as constantly blissful either.

(She also has an interesting Ted Talk regarding how lack of paid leave in the US adds to this ever stressful existence of being a parent.  I'm thrilled and lucky to work for a company that offers 16 weeks of paid maternity leave, so I really can NOT complain.

In some cases, we are thankful that kids give us this new outlook and desire to show them the world....and in other cases, we'd rather be at the St. Patty's Day parade drinking green beer rather than the toddler soccer field.

There's certainly give and take.

Friday night pub crawls have been reduced to a beer and a glass of wine between us laughing about all the crazy things that Jack said....or how sweet and happy Beau is.

Saturday “sleeping in” has been replaced by babies in the bed and cartoons on the TV by 8 am, but the snuggles are so sweet.  The kicks in the face?  Not so much.

All Joy.  No Fun.

  

It wasn't fun signing up Jack for preschool this week.  I got choked up when the nice lady was taking his paperwork and telling me about how the teachers will take care of him.  No, no, no, no, no.  *I* will take care of him, lady.  Me.  His Momma.  I don't want them to take care of him because I don't want this.  I don't know what I want, but I know it's not a picture of my sweet, small, very young three year old walking down a school hallway and into a classroom.

Except that.....I know it's what he needs.  And he will love it.  And I will love watching him love it.  And I will shed my tears and mourn his aging without him knowing...like my momma likely did for me.

All Joy.  No Fun.

We've moved on from toddler basketball to toddler soccer.  It's the same sort of chaotic thing that you know all about already.  Jack is bigger than the other kids, not quite sure how to control his body and gets pushed around a little, which is good for him.  Although, some Hulk-like kid pushed him down last Saturday.  I *almost* flew out of my own skin.  He handled it well...and didn't actually punch the kid in the face, which is what I was likely doing at his age.

I *did* have to tell Meme not to coach Jack to push the other kids when they push him.  LOL.  Lord Have Mercy.  If you tell Jack that - he WILL sock them in the face and take the ball.

*control the rage, people....control the rage*

All Joy.  No Fun.

Lots of people ask us about why we go to Disney all the time.  First and foremost, one of the greater joys of parenting is watching your kid's head explode in excitement over Mickey Mouse.  Secondly, while it's a lot of prep work and a long day trip, Jack's level of enjoyment outweighs any work that we put into the day.  Matt and I love riding the rides with him and hearing him ask to do it again and again and again.  Nothing is funnier than him asking to see Elsa.

"Momma - We go see Merida.  She pretty. Then I shoot the bow."

All Joy.  No Fun.

  

So pumping on the road is an adventure.

(If there are men that read this blog - Scroll through this section if you don't want to read my funny stories about breastmilk extraction, packaging and transportation.  It's a hoot.  Pun intended.)

I was at an off site meeting a few weeks back.  One of my managers coordinated with the on site facilities manager to have a place for me to pump and store the milk in the freezer in my thermal bag.   Everything went really well....until the end of the day.  The catering manager happened to be at the end of the day happy hour and very loudly asked me why I didn't want to eat his food.

Me:  What do you mean?  I ate the catered food for lunch.

Catering Manager:  Then what's in the bag in my freezer?

<please don't do this sir>

Catering Manager (even louder):  Well if you're going to store something in my freezer, then I should know what it is.  So WHAT IS IT?!

<please don't make me do this sir>

Catering Manager: Hello?

Me:  Well....  It's BREASTMILK.  You happy now?  It's breastmilk in the freezer.  I pump 6 times a day to feed my infant son at home in Tampa.  So, there.  It's BREASTMILK.

*drops mic*

Guy Standing Next To Us:  Come on, man.  Did you have to keep asking her??

Complete and utter mortification is the only term I know to use to describe the look on his face as he started to back peddle and apologize.

Me:  No need to apologize.  I'm not the one who's embarrassed.

All Joy.  No Fun.

TSA has gotten a lot better now that they know they'll see me each week.  I go to the same line every week, so as to develop a little consistency...which has helped.  There were some bumps though....like Spring Break week, new TSA agents and a gaggle of college guys behind me in the security line.  I was desperately trying to hold on to my "I used to be a cute college girl, but now I'm a cute professional girl" thing that I thought I had going....right up until the TSA agent engaged in *this* conversation:

TSA agent:  (loudly and with unnecessary authority) Ma'am - You realize that you can't take this through security?

Me: (quietly) Ummm, no - why not?

TSA agent:  Because you can't take liquids (laughing)

Me:  (quietly) It's all frozen.

TSA agent:  Well you're going to have to explain to me what it is.

Me:  (quietly) breastmilk.

TSA agent:  (loudly and with unnecessary authority) Ma'am - You're going to have to speak up if you want to make it through security today.

Me:  (*totally lost it*) IT'S BREASTMILK.  Ok?  It's breastmilk.  I'm a breastfeeding mother of two and it's three days worth of frozen breastmilk.  108 ounces to be exact.  I'm a milk factory.  So, there.  Can I go now?

TSA agent: yep.

Me:  (raising my hands to the college guys) WHAT?!  Move on.

All Joy.  No Fun.

The boys though...?  The boys are SO FUN.  Check 'em out:

Beau is my little piggy baby, but has been sitting up with ease since right before his 6 month birthday.  He's in the 95th percentile on weight and height, which he'll need to be in order to hang with big brother Jack.

 

We are already seeing signs of crawling.  I know he's desperate to keep up with Jack.  His whole face lights up when he hears or sees Jack so I know he's anxious to get moving.  Me, on the other hand, is not so excited about that....where did the time go? *sniffle*

Jack is loving having Grandma hang with him on Wednesdays after gymnastics!  They go to the beach, to the park, to feed the birds/fish, to the pet store and to run errands.  He loves the one on one attention!

All Joy....and lots of fun too, folks....because at the end of the day, this stuff...right here:

....is all that matters.