A Mother's Prayer...from Tina Fey's book Bossypants

The Mother’s Prayer for Its Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes. And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.

Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long for Childhood is short- a Tiger Flower blooming magenta for one day- and Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that ****. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.

“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget.

But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

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Happy Easter!
 

I should have known something was off last Wednesday when Katie refused to go to the potty all day and acted out repeatedly.  It was bedtime when she showed the first signs of a stomach bug - vomiting all over her father and spiking a fever immediately afterward.  Thursday brought more of the same and by bedtime Reid had it as well.

Since then I've been mommy, nursemaid, laundress and more to two sick and unhappy babies.  The bucket by the side of the bed has been emptied many times, the pile of stinky diapers is at it's peak and we're on our second bottle of infant Tylenol.

Daddy the Great came down with the bug yesterday but so far I seem to be immune.  I'm so very tired and look forward to everyone being healthy again so we can get out and enjoy the blossoming sunshine of Spring.

There is good to be found in everything though and I've discovered that no matter how tired I am there is happiness to be found in the warmth of a feverish little body spooned next to mine.  I've enjoyed sitting by Katie's bedside, listening to the rhythm of her breath and watching her long lashes flutter on her cheeks as she settles back to sleep.  I'm most content when Reid automatically turns to my breast for comfort. That I created these amazing little people and that it's me they call out for in the night is a blessing beyond any I could have imagined. 

 I have the best job in the world, I am a nurse maid and a laundress - I am mommy, hear me roar!

Finding the happy little things among the mess of the last week,

~ M

Two Months

How did my baby boy get to be two months old already? He's doubled his birth weight, perfected a heart winning smile and filled more diapers than I can count.

In two months Reid has managed to complete our family, filling up the last empty bedroom and the last gap in his parents hearts. He's a blonde angel that looks just like his father and a joy to all who meet him.

Katie and Reid with Little Olivia who was born on the same day

Katie has found her niche as a big sister and is an expert at making her brother smile and rocking him in the swing. The last thing she needs to learn about is the difference between a head lock and a hug!

Two months old means that one sixth of my year off has passed me by. I have always hated fractions and numbers like this make it worse. I love this time at home with my babies and while we are looking forward to getting outside more in the warmer weather I hate the passing of each week. It took becoming a mother for me to recognize how quickly time goes by. As I get older so do my babies and I can only take solace in the pride I know I will feel watching them grow into amazing adults.

I've been using my time off to catch up with old friends and make new ones. On our street we have a lot of little girls around Katie's age. We've had play dates with Emily next door and Bella two doors down and all the kids love the time they get together. Sadly both families are moving this summer and we will miss the fun of impromptu activities on the lawn and in the neighbourhood parks.

We've been stuck inside a lot since our last disastrous walk around the block and have been using our time wisely working on Katie's fine motor skills. She is using scissors like a pro and learning to colour in the lines. This past week she made me a beaded bracelet that I'll cherish forever. They're little things but they sure do add up to one proud, happy mama.

Stay warm - just one more winter month to go!

**** I wrote this post last night and when I was woken by the sound of a sweet little calling "Mama, I'm not sleeping" at 6am I remembered that there is one good thing about kids growing up - a full nights sleep!

~ M