The New House
IS AWESOME! I am IN LOVE with it. When I think that to myself, it makes me laugh because all I can think of is Pee Wee Herman saying "why don't you marry it then?". If I could I would. I'll put new pics on soon.
Today is a better day than yesterday or the last time I blogged.
August 18, 2005
August 17, 2005
Babies
I officially, as of today, have no more babies. Everyone is at school. And I didn't cry this morning dropping off Arina. But I wept last night. Hours of weeping. Hours of not sleeping and weeping.
I was lamenting the loss of babies, lamenting the unfairness of life. There are only little kids in my house now, little turning into big kids. Kids who can choose their own clothes (which remarkable style, guess who they get that from!), make their own meals, voice opinions, make some of their own decisions. They've turned to tearing around instead of careening. Thundering laughter and roaring giggles instead of twittery laughter.
I look back, even now and wonder when they got so big. So fast. When did I turn from 20 to 30? How could they have changed so much when I just barely blinked. I'll blink again and they'll have cars and careers and children of their own.
And so the weeping begins again.
I'm happy and excited for their futures, to see what they'll look like at 20, who they'll fall in love with, how they will be there for one another. I am. I'm just not ready.
But then again, are you ever?
I officially, as of today, have no more babies. Everyone is at school. And I didn't cry this morning dropping off Arina. But I wept last night. Hours of weeping. Hours of not sleeping and weeping.
I was lamenting the loss of babies, lamenting the unfairness of life. There are only little kids in my house now, little turning into big kids. Kids who can choose their own clothes (which remarkable style, guess who they get that from!), make their own meals, voice opinions, make some of their own decisions. They've turned to tearing around instead of careening. Thundering laughter and roaring giggles instead of twittery laughter.
I look back, even now and wonder when they got so big. So fast. When did I turn from 20 to 30? How could they have changed so much when I just barely blinked. I'll blink again and they'll have cars and careers and children of their own.
And so the weeping begins again.
I'm happy and excited for their futures, to see what they'll look like at 20, who they'll fall in love with, how they will be there for one another. I am. I'm just not ready.
But then again, are you ever?
It's a why me day.
I dislike other people's children sometimes. Especially when their parents believe they really act all sweety-sweet.
My oldest is different. That's fine. Being the same gets you the status quo, never risking anything boring life. I KNOW in my heart and soul that as he gets older everything will even out. He has so many things going for him, he's smart, adorable, with a huge loving heart (which by the way will make him a super daddy some day), fantastic with computers and charming.
However, this doesn't endear him to the snotty jock boys in his class that have spent the last FOUR year picking on him. Never have I wanted my child to just once, punch another kid. This year, I'm all for it. Would serve the bullies right. I digress, he is different. Emotional, impulsive, life makes him cry.
Maturity wise he is probably a year behind his classmates. I can't change that part of him. And it pains me sometimes to be the mother of the "different" kid. I know every class has one, and while no one wants to be that kid, you want even less for it to be your child. But he's mine. And life's not fair or just. Ever.
I do try my best. Just sometimes, I wish it was easier. I wish I felt less like I was swimming through mud and the way was clearer. I wish other parents had some idea of how their children really act. I have no delusions about how mine behave. I wish the children were more kind, less evil. I wish for so many things. But the world isn't nice, or kind.
I dislike other people's children sometimes. Especially when their parents believe they really act all sweety-sweet.
My oldest is different. That's fine. Being the same gets you the status quo, never risking anything boring life. I KNOW in my heart and soul that as he gets older everything will even out. He has so many things going for him, he's smart, adorable, with a huge loving heart (which by the way will make him a super daddy some day), fantastic with computers and charming.
However, this doesn't endear him to the snotty jock boys in his class that have spent the last FOUR year picking on him. Never have I wanted my child to just once, punch another kid. This year, I'm all for it. Would serve the bullies right. I digress, he is different. Emotional, impulsive, life makes him cry.
Maturity wise he is probably a year behind his classmates. I can't change that part of him. And it pains me sometimes to be the mother of the "different" kid. I know every class has one, and while no one wants to be that kid, you want even less for it to be your child. But he's mine. And life's not fair or just. Ever.
I do try my best. Just sometimes, I wish it was easier. I wish I felt less like I was swimming through mud and the way was clearer. I wish other parents had some idea of how their children really act. I have no delusions about how mine behave. I wish the children were more kind, less evil. I wish for so many things. But the world isn't nice, or kind.