Nativity

I am having a really tough go of it this year.

My dear grandma has been gone for a long time.  Years and years have taken their toll.  She has had dementia and I have had to say goodbye over and over.  She died in February and I don't know why this Christmas is so hard.  She has been gone for years.  Why is this any different?  I don't know.

Sam, Matilda, and I got out the creche that Grandpa Wally made for me.  I gave them the box of nativity characters that had belonged to my Grandma Joyce.  Sam and Matilda worked together to create the nativity scene.

"Those were from Grandma Joyce's house," I told them.  "She bought them in plastic on purpose.  She wanted to have a nativity I could play with.  She meant for me to play with them."

Sam and Matilda took their job so seriously.  They placed the Joseph and Mary in the stable.  They arranged the shepherds and wise men around them.  They carefully placed the animals around the baby Jesus in the manger. 

I am staggered and overwhelmed by my grandma's wise purchase.  How did she know to buy plastic?  How did she know I would spend hours and hours arranging that nativity set?  How did she know that 30 years later, my children would spend hours creating the perfect nativity scene?

I miss her.  I hate that we are celebrating Christmas without her.  I wish I could tell her how much I appreciate how she made Christmas magic for me.

Siblings

I never really understood the whole sibling dynamic.

I have one sister (the best sister the world has ever known) and she is almost six years older than me.  She did nothing but dote on me as a child and support me as an adult.  We never fought like siblings.  We never competed against each other like siblings.  I have idolized her and she has adored me.  End of story. 

I was so envious of Kourtney and Katie when we were little.  We'd play up a storm all day and eventually I'd have to leave.  I'd walk home and they'd still be furiously playing.  I couldn't imagine what it was like to have a sibling who was also a playmate. 

Now, I watch Sam and Matilda in awe.  They always have a friend available.  What an amazing gift!  They can bug each other, and they can try to avoid each other, but give them a few hours apart and they are wondering how the other is doing.  They play really complicated games that I don't understand.  I can hear them downstairs at this very moment.  For a while they couldn't touch the floor, which I understand, but then the rules changed and if they FELL on the floor it was okay but if they STEPPED on the floor they were out.  What is the difference?  That then evolved into some sort of Bug Squad game ("Pretend I defeated the wasp!"  "Okay!  And pretend my hive is over there!").  Now Sam is making Matilda ask him for his autograph.  All I know is they are able to disappear for hours on end and laugh until they both get the hiccups. 

Sam and Matilda, you are the two coolest people I know.  Stick together. 

Pierced Ears

I have begged Matilda to pierce her ears for years.

She'd ask: "Does it hurt?"

I'd tell the truth. "Yes, for a little while. Then the hurt goes away."

"NO," Matilda would say.

We had this conversation 100 times. Last Friday we were at the mall.  Out of nowhere, she tugged on my arm. "I want to pierce my ears," she said.

"Right now? " I asked.  "Because we can do it right now."

Matilda looked afraid and hunched her shoulders. "Yes," she said. "I want to do it now."

We walked down to Claire's. I tried to call Eric (because I would KILL HIM for doing this without talking to me) but he didn't answer.

I spoke with the piercer at Claire's.  She kept trying to talk to Matilda,  who just shook and nodded. I could tell the piercer was unsure.

"Matilda, do you want your ears pierced?" I asked. "This is your choice."

"Yes," she said, still shaking with her hands in little fists.

She chose the second - worst pair. The worst were Hello Kitty.  She got sparkly pink hearts.

She was angry as it was done - it hurt! Then she saw herself in the mirror and couldn't stop smiling.

After, I asked her what made her suddenly want it done. "I just wanted to get it over with," she replied happily.

Feeeed Meeeee

I have been on a diet for 35 years.

I really have.  I was ALWAYS the big one around my friends.  It was horribly unfair to grow up with a best friend who was delightfully tiny in every way.  I always felt like an awkward giant which is sad, as looking back I know that I wasn't enormous.  On the bigger side of the spectrum, but not anyone people would point at. 

I so hoped I wouldn't pass on either my genetic make-up or my eating issues to my kids.  Well, I know I can stop wishing.  It's all over.  They're big, and they're hungry. 

Sam was a late talker, made worse by the fact he looked like a 5-year-old when he was three.  He'd mutely gesture at me as other women at the store would look at me pityingly.  And poor Matilda.  She wasn't even allowed to eat cereal at the normal 4-month mark because her doctor thought she was too big.  Adults constantly ask her what grade she's in.  She doesn't know how to answer (more looks of pity) because she isn't in a grade.  She's in preschool.

Some of you remember Sam's early passion for bread.  I couldn't stop thinking about that today as it all played out again.  I try so hard to feed my family well.  I don't do anything all or nothing, but processed food is very limited, I push fruit and veggies, and protein is used for energy. 

Eric is at the cabin right now so the kids and I are alone for a week.  Groceries have been low so we went to the store this morning.  I told them I was going to say yes to everything they wanted, and I did.  Our cart was overflowing when we got to the check-out. 

Sam and Matilda stood off to the side and slightly behind the register as our groceries were scanned.  I was facing them and the cashier.  The store was full of people.  Without consulting each other, they started a vaudeville routine as the groceries were scanned.  They watched the receipt grow longer and the total grow higher.  Totally in sync, their eyes grew larger and their mouths dropped open.  They slumped their shoulders and rolled their eyes around and around.  I think Sam drooled a little.  Matilda yelled, "Mom!  Are you even going to have any money LEFT?" 

I couldn't help laughing.  I walked over and hissed, "Knock it off!  People are going to think I don't feed you!  Stop being so happy about groceries!"

I was too embarrassed to look around to see if anyone saw my little (huge?) urchins.  We packed up and got out of there. 

And no one - NO ONE - was more excited than I was about that full cart of groceries.

Announcements

I can't stop watching pregnancy announcements on YouTube.

My favorites are the videos where families are led to believe that they are posing for a picture but the video feature of the camera is on.  The person behind the camera says, "Okay, one-two-three...everyone say...Erica is pregnant!"  Then we all see the frozen smiles turn into shock, turn into joy, and then the group falls apart into hugging and congratulations.

I am not pregnant now.  Nor will I be again.  But they make me think of finding out about my babies.

With Sam: it was Sunday, June 12, 2005.  I was watching Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and playing solitaire.  Eric was sleeping, as he worked overnights, and was two days away from taking his RN licensure testing.  I wasn't late but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was pregnant.  I drove to Walgreens, convincing myself I was being ridiculous and wasting money.  I promised myself that IF I was pregnant I wouldn't tell Eric - he had enough pressure as it was trying to pass his RN exam.

I bought and took the test. One line meant no baby.  Two lines meant a baby.  I watched two lines develop.  I felt like I was going to faint and focused my eyes on the blank white wall in the bathroom to make sure I wasn't seeing things.  I looked back to the test and saw two bold lines.

I ran into our room where Eric was sleeping.  I bounced on the bed and called his name until he said, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

I felt like I was out of my body as I said, "I felt like I should take a pregnancy test.  So I did.  It was positive."

Eric said, "So you're going to be a momma?" and fell back asleep.

Sorry, Sam.  That's the truth.

I called my sister.  She couldn't have been happier.  I called my mom.  She was quite blase.  I called my dad.  He was ecstatic.  I went back downstairs and wondered how in the world I would just finish watching my movie and playing cards now that my entire life had changed.  (My mom called me six more times that day and her hysteria more than made up for her initial reaction.)

____________


With Matilda: it was late April 2008.  Eric and I went through an awful time when Sam was two.  Eric was not living with me when I had a sudden bout of nauseousness.  I ignored it until I felt again the next day.  I thought to myself, "How weird.  I haven't felt nauseous since..."

I went numb.  I drove to Walgreens.  I bought the test.  I saw the two lines.  I stared at the wall in my living room for two hours and wondered what God was trying to do.  Two days later I told Eric I was pregnant.  We stared at each other in helplessness.  He left.

Sorry, Til.  That's the truth.

A week later I told my sister.  She couldn't have been happier.  "This baby is going to save us all," she said.

I told my mom.  She was thrilled.

I told my dad.  He was ecstatic.

Then the fight to take care of our babies kicked in.  I told Eric I would be moving closer to my sister.  He said he'd go wherever his babies went.  We found a house we both loved.  We packed, cried, panicked, loved, and fought our way through that summer.  We ended up in our house in September.  In December Matilda was born.  We have been fighting our way through ever since.

We didn't have the big announcements.  We didn't have the family gatherings.  But my babies - my Samuel and Matilda - were wanted, were loved, and have a purpose.  
 

Cutest Kids Ever

I am the worst mother when it comes to taking pictures of my kids.  I never have a camera and never think to make an appointment for a studio.  I took Sam in at 3 months and 8 months and then gave up.  Luckily, my dad has taken a lot of great pictures of my kids.

When Sam was two, he and I went to Colorado to visit my mom and Doug.  My mom made a photo appointment and paid all the fees and we ended up with some darling pictures of my boy.  They were so cute, in fact, that we ended up completely losing our minds and ordering WAY too many different poses.

Last week the kids and I went to Colorado for Thanksgiving.  My mom didn’t even ask this time.  “They have a photo appointment Tuesday at 10.  I’m shopping for coordinated outfits,” her terse text informed me.  I was very happy and grateful and we agreed that this time we would be keeping our cool.  We’d get ONE pose of the two of them together and MAYBE one of Matilda on her own (as she doesn’t have school pictures).

Y’all know where this is going.  We were a mess.  We were already hysterical in the car driving TO the appointment.  Sam and Matilda sat calmly in the backseat as my mom and I dissolved into manic laughing fits.  While the photo shoot was happening we literally clutched at each other every time the camera flashed because we saw how cute the pictures were going to be. 

By the end of our order we wound up ordering seven poses and 108 Christmas cards.  But people, look at these pictures.  Can you blame us?!

Freeze Frame

I have so far been unsuccessful in capturing my daughter's pretty face in a photo.  To illustrate my point, these are the first three pictures of Matilda I found on my phone.

My dear girl views the world in her own way.

 

To be fair, this IS what she looks like 99% of the time.

See her hair?

 

These pictures are why I was SO delighted to open my email yesterday and find this picture from my dad:

Face.  Just her little face.  Skin like porcelain with her hair pushed back.  One thing I noticed right away is how much she looks like Miranda at that age!  I'll have to dig through old pictures and do a side-by-side to compare.  But for now I'm content to just stare at Matilda's pretty face.

Thanks, Dad.

Kindergarten Man

Sam started Kindergarten in September.  He absolutely loves it!  I did have a few surreal moments when I was walking behind him on the way to school where I thought I might cry.  Hood up, loose-fit jeans, backpack, hands shoved in his pockets…he is very much a little man.  Thankfully he is still more than happy to rush out of the school and into my arms when I pick him up in the afternoons. 

Mrs. Hince, his wonderful teacher, has repeatedly referred to Sam as “SO sweet.”  He is friends with everyone in his class.  Mrs. Hince said that several children who have trouble getting along with others have “attached themselves” to Sam as he is so patient and gentle.  She said she’s heard him more than once try to diffuse an argument by saying, “You guys, let’s find something we ALL want to play!”  Sam is kind to his core.  I think it’s my favorite thing about him. 

He’s doing well academically, too. By the end of the year, all Kindergarteners need to be able to read 80 sight words.  Sam knows them all now, as well as the sight words for first grade, and most of the sight words for second grade.  He’s a reading machine.  Mrs. Hince did suggest that we expand his library to include more non-fiction books, as they will help his vocabulary, so we are definitely going to work on that. 

We are so incredibly proud of our boy.

Daddy Hunting

The last few posts I wrote about Matilda before going AWOL mentioned her growing vocabulary.  It has been a year and there is really nothing she can't or (unfortunately) won't say.  I honestly don't know where she gets most of it.

This week Matilda and I were at the store.  A rather attractive man came down our aisle toward us.  Matilda looked up at him and said hopefully, "Mom?  Is that Daddy?"

The man chuckled and I laughed nervously.  "Matilda!  You know that isn't Dad."

I hustled Matilda out of the aisle as the man watched.  I can't let anything go, so I poked my head back around and said, "She has a father. I have not told her to say that to strange men."

Matilda appeared again by my knees. "Yeah," she added sadly. "My NEW daddy is at home."

The little stinker won again.  I had to slink away from the no-longer-amused stranger and continue my shopping in shame.

I Miss Your Blog. Will You Come Back?

I opened Facebook today and found that lovely comment posted on my wall. Simple and direct, it made my day.

 

 

I feel it deserves a simple and direct answer: yes. Yes, I will come back.

 

 

Thanks, Kristi. I desperately wish I had an old picture of us to scan to commemorate this occasion (Too Hot To Handle comes to mind) but I destroyed all of my old pictures in one of my post-Hoarders-marathon cleaning fits.

  

Have patience with me as I get back into the swing of things here.