Christmas Revisited

I know, I know, Christmas was a month ago. But I am backed up and I know you people probably wanted to see pictures of the kids unwrapping gifts anyway. We had a great Christmas, made better by the fact that my entire family including in-laws were together celebrating. I am one of those nesting people who is just happier when everyone I love is in one place. Even my cousin Michael, who is in the Air force came from Alaska to be with us. The kids were royally spoiled, but then we all were!
My family is insane when it comes to gifts

and while they were showered with toys, books and clothes, these were the two favorites:

Oliver really "got" the whole Christmas thing this year, which was awesome to see. I made sure we emphisized giving as well as receiving, but that may take a few years to totally grasp. Another tradition that we started this year was "Boxing Day" which in our house is the day that you give all your old stuff (toys and clothes) away to make room for the new. Oliver was hesitant at first, but he doesn't really even notice the things are gone now and he was happy some other kids got to benefit from the toys he and his sister don't play with anymore.

So, though it be about a month late, MERRY CHRISTMAS from the Gosslings!!

On the day you were born

Three years ago today, I was holding and nursing my newborn son for the first time. Actually, at presicely this moment I may have been wolfing down a hamburger and trying not to let my overanxious father see my hootenany being stitched up while he tried get a first glance at the baby... but nevertheless, this day will forever mark the day I became a mom. I didn't become a good mom, or a hot mom, or a perfect mom (that came later) but I became Oliver's mom, and that is all I had to be.

Today, on our way to school, I told Oliver the story of his birth. This is a tradition I hope to carry on with both of my kids every year on the day of their birth. This is how it went.

Me: Three years ago, on the day before you were born, you stopped moving around in my tummy so I went to the hospital to see if you were okay. The nurse said you were fine and that I could go home. I was glad you were okay, but I was sad that you weren't ready to come meet me yet. So Grandmommy...
Oliver: I like Grandmommy.
Me: Yea, me too
Oliver: She is nice.
Me: Yep! Can I continue?
Oliver: Yea
Me: Grandmommy and Granddad took daddy and I out for Mexican food...
Oliver: What Mehitan dood is?
Me: Its like tacos
Oliver: Oh.
Me: I was sad so they took me out for tacos and we went home still waiting for you to come. Daddy and I watched some TV and I took a bath because I was feeling uncomfortable because you were so big in my tummy. Then, we tried to go to sleep but I couldn't, and then, around 2am, I heard a big POP!
Oliver: Pop!
Me: Yea, like that! And I rushed to the bathroom and my water broke. You see, the baby lives in a bag of water that keeps him safe while he grows in the mommy's tummy, and when the baby gets big enough the bag breaks to let the baby out.
Oliver: Why the baby come out?
Me: He just gets too big to stay in any longer.
Oliver: Yay! Tell me dat story again!
Me: It isn't over yet.
Oliver: Oh.
Me: So when my water broke...
Oliver: With THAT baby (points to Henley)
Me: Yes my water broke with Henley too, remember?
Oliver: Yes!
Me: You kicked me in the tummy and my water broke right?
Oliver: (Laughs) yes.
Me: So when my water broke with you, I knew you were going to be here soon and so I told Daddy, "my water broke" and daddy was so fast getting ready, he was dressed in 20 seconds I think.
Oliver: WOA that fast!
Me: Yes, so we got into the car and went to the hospital where you were going to be born! But we stopped because daddy was having a tummy ache from the Mexican food.
Oliver: Tacos.
Me: Right! We got to the hospital and I told them I wanted to walk around to get you out, I wasn't ready to rest yet! The contractions hurt, but not too bad.
Oliver: What a taction?
Me: It is the word for what happens to a mommy's body when the baby tries to come out.
Oliver: Why the baby come out?
Me: Remember, you got too big to stay in any longer and you wanted to meet all of your family! So we went to the hospital and everyone who loved you was there. Big mama, Grandmommy, grandpa, Aunt Liz and Aunt Britty. They all wanted to be the first to love on you! After a long time, I was in a lot of pain and even though I wanted you to have the best start at life, I got some medication to make the pain go away at the last minute. I pushed and pushed and slowly slowly you came out and I was so happy and I held you and kissed you and you were so yucky and covered in goo. I nursed you for the first time and you loved to nurse, remember?
Oliver: I like boods!
Me: No kidding. Anyway, that was the way you were born, and you made me a mommy!
Oliver: Do we have raisins?

So for all of you fans of Oliver out there, here he is, retro style!
Birth


6 months


1 year old!


18 months old!



2 years old!


2 and a half (notice the scowl)


Halloween, nearly 3!

Being Present

Not so long ago, I was an addict. I ignored my kids, neglected my household duties, even forwent food and drink for this terrible drug of choice. It was, of course, my addiction to my computer. It didn't take an intervention to break me of this habit. In a moment of clarity and possibly frustration, while I was trying to type with one hand while entertaining a squirming baby with the other, bouncing her on my knee while trying to balance the laptop and all the while my son is sitting like a potato on the couch having his mind eaten away by cartoons, it hit me, this computer was taking over my life and my kids' lives. And then the computer hit the wall. Hard. It felt really really good.

I look back and realize how much it was my fault that my son didn't talk until he was two. How many moments I probably missed because I thought my opinion was so important to women I have never met and hardly knew. How many opportunities to teach my children that passed while I was busy trying to make my life seem funny and light, on a blog that only served to feed my own ego. I think about all this wasted time, all the snuggles that went unrequited, all the bonding time with my husband I took for granted, all the snubbing of affection I did because I had to get one more thought out. I think about all of these missed life memories and I want to scream.

I finally decided that I would rather be out making more memories with my kids rather than writing down all of the memories we did make. I don't want to fit my kids in when I have time, they deserve better than that! I want to be present for them, in the moment when they are showing me a new dance move or are THIS CLOSE to letting go of the table and walking into my arms. I want to play half games of Candyland until the cows come home and teach every single one of Oliver's dolls to use the potty. I want my daughter to know that she is worth me taking the time to teach her how to be a woman, I want my son to know that he is worth listening to.

So I am sorry, blog fans, if the posts are less and less. I am going to seriously try to post videos and pictures, but if I fall short of your expectations, find comfort in the fact that I am finally rising up to the expectations of my children.

Lollipops

Oliver: Will you get me something to lick mommy?
Me: Like what?
Oliver: Like a blue lollipop?
Me: We don't have any lollipops
Oliver: Okay. (sad face) I'll have an ice cream sandwich.

Meet my Kids

This is Oliver, the sweetest boy in the world, who has hair that sticks straight up in the morning if his daddy doesn't blow dry it after his bath and 'blue eyes' that are really turning green. His favorite activities are helping me in the kitchen, turning people into baby birds with magic wands he finds in the park, and scaring other people by climbing to the very tippy top of the playscape. He begs to play in our cars and likes to push all the buttons, toggle all the switches and pull all the levers. Then, when you go to start the car, he likes to laugh at you when everything comes on and you scream. His likes also include rain, cats, pancakes, Pixar movies, playing in the rain, sneaking coffee, jellybeans, tea parties and taking pictures of his friends. His dislikes include lizards, loud noises (he covers his ears), casseroles, transitions (ie, bathtime, naptime, bedtime, but doesn't mind bathing or sleeping), sharing, costumes and drinking water.

This is Henley. She is the most beautiful child and strongest baby in the world. She was born scowling at the world but she has come to terms with it now. She enjoys fans, Mam pacifiers, Sofie T. Giraffe, banana, naps, bosoms for pillows, her brother, petting the cat, cuddles, toe licking by dogs, chatting, sparkly necklaces, doing push-ups and long hair. Her dislikes include: Angry voices, teeth, diaper changes, long car rides, eating during the day, sad music, being left alone too long and restrictive clothing.

I am amazed every day that no one has sprung out from a closet and said "These kids aren't actually yours! You have been punked" And then laughed hysterically at the idea that I would ever be trusted with another life, much less two of them. Oliver forces me to look my 2 year old self straight in the eye and then attempt to parent it. I wonder if Henley will be the same way. I know I have it easy with these two kids, both are healthy, neither have special needs or have allergies. They both are super smart and beautiful (even to other people)! And still I wonder some days how I am going to survive to see tomorrow.

Every morning I wake excited about the day that is coming, every day around 4 I am dying for it to be over. I never thought I could work this hard, for this long, for this little pay. But the first time Henley accidentally said "mama" was worth it. The first time Oliver announced his name to me in the kitchen was worth it. The first time she got up on her hands and knees with this look on her face like she was the first baby to attempt such a feat. Oliver's first steps, Henley's first giggle. His early potty learning and her birth. These are such points of pride for me it makes it (almost) forget about the aching muscles, the constant headache, the ever-present guilt, the exhaustion, the second guessing and the sweat and tears.

Parenting is not all bliss, it is not all good, and some of it is down right terrible. One thing is comforting though, I bet you when my kids become the amazing adults that they will become I won't be thinking about the tantrums but the triumphs of my parenting career. Yay for the amnesia of nostalgia!!

A Labor (Day) of Love

Just some photos of our Labor Day! We spent it eating ribs and drinking beer with my lovely family. Oliver had a blast at Grandmommy's house and even took a really long nap there! I think he would move in with his Grandma or Grandmommy, he is totally in love with all his grandparents!

A Good Day

Lets start with what a bad day looks like. It looks like the television being on all day, me being checked out and dinner being a complete fail. It looks like Oliver throwing a tantrum over dinner, the baby being ignored, and Oliver's brain rotting in his brain because I am completely uninterested or too tired from the night before to even try to be creatively teaching him. It looks like no park, no rain, just oppressive heat so outside play is undesirable. 4pm fills me with dread for the next 2 hours, those two hours are the longest of my day because CT will not be home until 6. Oliver begs for food before dinner and I relent, causing a dinnertime meltdown where he will not eat and just wants to be held and throws tantrums because we are eating and he is not hungry. I go to bed on a bad night feeling like if I had just left my children with a half intelligent monkey that day, they would have learned more and been just as well looked after (Fun Fact: Ape milk is almost identical to human milk) and I go between wanting to wake Oliver up and cuddle him all night apologizing for yelling at him over how clumsy he is and wanting to just get into the car and leaving forever. The guilt threatens to suffocate me on a bad day.

On a good day which are rare and far between. The radio is on the better part of the day, but the television is off. We play at the park all morning and find time to do a puzzle or two or other educational activity before nap. There is no tantrum before nap, because Oliver was able to behave like a child all morning. After nap we do an activity like the pool, or cookie making or crafts until dinner. Oliver plays alone during dinner prep and while he begs me for food still, I do not give him anything. He eats his dinner, which doesn't suck. Henley gets a full 3 naps during the day, plays contentedly when she is up and doesn't puke on me as soon as I get dressed. I get a shower. Oliver goes up to bed without screaming bloody murder. Henley gets to sleep at a decent hour and doesn't scream in her sleep every 10 minutes. I fall into my bed exhausted from having to be on from 6am-8pm. There were still tantrums but they were dealt with swiftly and only a bit of yelling.

Wow, is that what my life has become? All I need for a day to be decent, for me to go to sleep feeling more like a mom than a monster is to wear myself completely out all day long? I read somewhere that a child Oliver's age shouldn't be inactive for longer than an hour unless they are asleep. This is so tiring, I don't know what to say. Most days the kid can't take a crap unless I am sitting right there with him. On these days he will not play outside, or in the pool or at the park without me right there all the way. I long for better days, the days when he will go discover the world on his own a little. And yes, I know they grow up so fast and I shouldn't wish it away. Trust me, the guilt for even saying it out loud will consume me as I try to sleep tonight.