His Son's First Hero, His Daughter's First Love

Father's Day is almost over. It was a quiet day here at Mama's house. The Captain worked, as he has every Father's Day since we met. The biggest difference this Father's Day is that now he is a father of three.

T-Man is here visiting, so the Captain is lucky enough to have all three of his children under one roof to celebrate his special day. I recently saw a quote on pinterest: "A Dad is a son's first hero and a daughter's first love". This couldn't be more appropriate.

I have watched the relationship between T-Man and the Captain evolve over five years. I have watched T-Man idolize his father, forever trying to emulate the man that he is. I have watched the Captain grow, becoming less of a "buddy" and more of a "dad", never faltering in the love he has for his son, his firstborn. It was that love for his son that first drew me to him.

I have watched the Big One fall in love with her daddy and he with her. In her eyes no one can compare. I see the special bond they have developed in her short lifetime, and the love they share makes my heart full. I love to watch the two of them together. To hear him make her laugh the way no one else can always puts a smile on my face. And though sometimes I want to choke him when I am cooking dinner and he comes home and hands her a ring pop, or some other treat, I am grateful for the relationship they have.

The Captain continues to amaze me every day. I am so proud of the dad he used to be, the dad that he is and the dad he is becoming. He is a self made man. Unlike T-Man he did not have a "dad" to emulate. You know the saying "Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad"? Well, despite the fact that the  Captain had a father, he is certainly doing a great job being a dad.

My favorite "dad" quality that he has is that he constantly tells his children that he loves them and that he is proud of them. You really don't know the power of those two statements "I love you." and "I am proud of you." unless you rarely heard them. Those eight words could be just what your children need to be extraordinary instead of ordinary.

I look forward to seeing the Little One fall in love with the Captain just as her big sister has. I am excited to watch the relationship between the Captain and T-Man evolve as he enters adulthood, and they gain mutual understanding and respect for one another. The Captain always says "If I stopped being a dad right now, I would be a better dad than my father ever was.", and that statement is so very true. But the biggest thing that separates the Captain from his father is that as long as there is life in his body he will never stop being a dad.

Calgon Take Me Away

It's a happy day at Mama's house. The kind of day that makes you want to lock yourself in the bathroom, fill your tub with Calgon to test it's promise that it will "Take you away".

We got a late start getting ready for gymnastics this morning. The Little One screamed the whole way there.  I should have just turned around then, but I had agreed to meet my friend Daycare Mom, and her three charges at the gym. I just couldn't leave her to her own devices with two 8 month olds and a three year old. And besides I crave the adult interaction as much as the Big One loves getting out of the house and playing with her friends.

We pull into the parking lot a bit early (a miracle for how I rushed around this morning), Daycare Mom has not yet arrived, so I decided to sit in the parking lot to nurse The Little One while we wait. Daycare Mom, pulls up beside us and The Big One is excitedly screaming in the backseat "Hi Daycare Mom! Hi! Mom, Daycare Mom is here!"

Daycare Mom, comes over and opens the back door. "Hi Big One!" She is met with the "mean face" and no eye contact. The oldest of Daycare Mom's charges, Handsome (he really is so cute), bounds into the van barely containing his excitement that The Big One is here to play. "Hi Big One". He excitement is met with a steely stare. "No Handsome. This is MY van", is the response he gets.

An example of The Big One's mean face

After what is meant to be a thought provoking, behavior changing time out, we head to the gym. We sign in, pay our fee, remove our shoes and get ready to play. We stayed for about 20 minutes of the hour allotted. Of those 20 minutes, maybe half of that was spent actually playing. The rest was best spent crying when waiting her turn, yelling "MINE!" at various unsuspecting kids, sitting on the trampoline so other kids couldn't use it, and refusing to play with Handsome.

Finally, I had enough. Time to put action to my threats. Lucky for me, Daycare Mom only had one of her usual three kids and I was able to leave without feeling enormously guilty. I walked out of the gym with my shoeless preschooler screaming behind me, wanting a giant hole to swallow me up, shielding me from the eyes of the other mothers. In my mind, I am the mother who has the "unruly kid". I'm the mom who somehow lacks parenting skills- the mom who can't teach her child to be nice to her friends. I can not rationally at this moment,think that those other moms are looking at me, as I so often look at other moms who's children are having a public meltdown, with compassion and understanding. Nope, right now I am embarrassed and frustrated that I can't teach my child to act differently.

The Little One, having missed her morning nap, screams almost the whole way home. Finally after grabbing lunch at a local drive- thru, we pull into the driveway. I am relieved. After the girls have a  nap the day will be much better. Right? Not so much. I walk into the house and I am met with the strong smell of bleach. You see, the Captain is home today, and in an effort to help out, he has cleaned our bathroom (that's another post). The smell is too strong to be able to lay The Little One down, so after setting up fans and opening windows we sit down and have lunch. Now that the house has aired out a bit, the Little One is fast asleep in her crib, The Captain is napping and The Big One is in her room, every five minutes asking "Is it time to get up?" I tell her to go to sleep (she so needs sleep right now) and she screams from her bed "I AM NEVA EVA GONNA TAKE A NAP!"

Really?!?!? Now, where is that dang bottle of Calgon?

One of the lucky ones

If ever I have missed working outside of the home it was last night. I felt like crap- and still do. As I laid down in bed, I secretly wished I was working once again. If I were working, I could take a sick day from work, drop the kids off at daycare and come home to spend the rest of the day in bed. Alone. Just me, a box of Kleenex and a Lifetime movie marathon. But there is no such thing as a sick day for a stay at home mom.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up with the Little One and The Captain informed me that he had the day off and was going to take the Big One to run errands while the Little One and I slept. I thought I had died and gone to Heaven.

He and The Big One went off, while the Little One and I slept for three hours! It was amazing. When he came home he took us all out to lunch, he took care of dinner and cleaned up the kitchen. Today was better than a sick day.

I know I can be moody and a nag at times, and I'm sure The Captain thinks I don't notice all that he does around here. I know there are thousands of women out there wishing their husbands would just put their clothes in the hamper. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones.

My husband helps cook and clean the house. He does laundry- sometimes only his own and that kind of irritates me, but at least he helps. He helps with the kids, and I rarely have to bathe, dress or tuck in The Big One- he takes care of her entire bedtime routine. And more importantly he notices when I really need a break - and he gives me one.

Today was one of those days. Today I noticed all he does for me and the girls every day. And I realized that even though our life isn't perfect I am one of the lucky ones.

photo credit

Silly Bedtime Stories

Since the Little One's arrival, The Captain has taken over the  Big One's bedtime routine. He gives her a bath, brushes her teeth and reads her stories. She has three favorite books that she reads every night and can recite them all word for word.

Lately The Captain has been changing the words in the stories making them silly. Instead of saying shipwreck, he'll say train wreck for example. The Big One just giggles and giggles. I love to listen to the two of them together. It makes my heart smile.

The Big One's Favorite bedtime books:

Kisses For Daddy by Frances Watts, David Legge

Harriet and the Roller Coaster by Nancy Carlson

Ten Friendly Fish by Debbie Tarbett

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Lessons of the Day

After two days of rain, The Big One was going a bit stir crazy. I figured she needed to get out of the house, but anything outside wasn't an option as everything is saturated. I decided that we should take her to the local Children's museum. Unfortunately, I decided this at nap time, so sans nap we loaded up in the van. Not my greatest parenting moment.

As we are driving through the parking lot to secure a space, we are nearly hit by another mini-van. The driver was jay driving. (This is my new term for those who fail to take the time to drive lawfully around a parking lot, and instead drive through the empty parking spaces- similar to crossing the street without using the crosswalk). And because apparently I have a bit of road rage, I immediately reach across the Captain throwing my hands in the air. The other driver does the same and I respond by flipping him the bird. Normally, I would have no regrets and continue on about my day, but then:

The Captain: "Hey I know that guy!"

Me: "What?!?!"

The Captain:  "Yeah, I used to work with him."  (to the other guy) "Hey Man! What's up? You just pissed my wife off!"

Oops. Lesson Number 1: Be careful when flipping the bird, it just may turn out to be someone you (or your husband) know.

Sheepishly I walk with my family into the museum. It all starts out great. We climb in the tree house, watch a show about air, play in the firetruck, and decorate a cup and plant a flower.

Everyone is happy and having fun- Until we go into this little area where there are these little orange balls. There are lots of them. Balls to roll down ramps, put into tubes and such. I must admit that the Big One has not quite learned how to share. She is not blatant about not sharing.  She does not scream "MINE!" when other children come to play with the coveted orange balls. Nope, instead she stealthily gathers up as many balls as she can hold and hoards them in the corner. The first no nap induced meltdown occurs when she is informed that she must share the balls or go to another area of the museum. Of course she wants to do neither, so she is physically redirected to the grocery section.

Attention diverted, she is quickly pushing her buggy, grabbing items off the shelf and having a great time.

This goes on for quite some time, and the Captain and I, wanting her to see what else the museum has to offer, suggest we go to another area. Meltdown #2. This one is complete with kicking and screaming and results in us very quickly exiting the museum. As I am typing this I realize that in our haste to get out of there with our screaming child, we forgot to get her flower. Bummer.

Lesson Number 2: Do not take a child having no nap out in public. $30 for an hour and a half- I should have just taken her to the mall and let her have her meltdown for free.

I must say, I had a very educational day today. How about you?

A Tribute to Single Mothers

The last few days have been difficult. The Big One has been in one of her I’ll-do-whatever-I-want-and-not-listen-to-anything-you-say moods and The Little One has not been sleeping during the day. It has not been fun in our household and I have been yelling. A lot. I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth.

By the time The Captain comes home at night I am about ready to pull out my hair or have a nervous breakdown- sometimes both. But I am lucky. I have someone that comes home and takes over for a bit. If only to help with the Big One because the Little One only tolerates him for about 10 minutes. That is only because he doesn’t have the goods. I’m the one with the milk. I’m the only one the Little One wants.

Although when The Captain works long hours I sometimes feel like a single mother, I know that at the end of the day I will have help. At the end of the day I am not a single mother. I have someone to get up in the middle of the night when I am so exhausted I can’t hold my head up or keep my eyes open. I have help when the kids are driving me batty and I need a time out. So many other women out there are not so lucky.

I respect the single mother, who is the sole provider for their households. If they are one of the lucky ones they may receive child support payments, but many are late and not the full amount due. Single mothers often work two and three jobs to put food on the table and keep the lights on, sacrificing the time spent with their children.

Single mothers do not have someone to take over when things get crazy. They do not have a “back-up” when they are sick. They do not have someone to lean on when life is hard. What single mothers do have is amazing strength. No matter how hard it gets, they keep on keeping on, for themselves- and more importantly for their children. Many single mothers have figured out (to the best of their ability) to be both mother and father for their children, as in many cases the fathers don’t hang around to help out.

I admire the single mother because of all these things, but mostly because it was a single mother that brought me into this world. It was a woman, who alone, cared for me for the first 8 years of my life. A woman who struggled every day to put food on the table. A woman who was both mom and dad to me for 8 difficult years. My mother didn’t have the luxury of having a back-up when she was sick. She still had to work and care for me no matter what the circumstances.

It took me having my own children to really understand why she was tired when she got home from work. I now know why she was short-tempered at times, and why I couldn’t have the brand name clothes. In the end that’s not what matters. In the end the only thing that matters is that she loved me and she was there for me when my father wasn’t. It took the craziness in my own life to respect all that she went through to make sure that I had what I needed. Every day. And she did it alone.

Were you raised by a single parent? If so, tell them that you love them. Tell them that you know they did their best. Tell them how much you appreciate all they sacrificed for you.

Are you a single parent? If so, know that one day your children will appreciate your sacrifices. They may not understand how difficult it is for you. In their selfish little minds they can only comprehend how it affects them, but one day they will see, and they will love you more for it.

 Me and my Single Mother-then

Us Now :)

Love You Mom!

The Little Things

My husband is the captain of a local charter boat (the reason I call him The Captain) and before children, I would go out with him every chance I got. I miss it. It really is an awesome time. I love being out on the water and seeing the dolphins play behind the boat. The dolphins are definitely my favorite part of the trip.

Pics I took the last time out on the boat

Another part of the trip I loved was meeting the different people. Watching the amazement on the faces of strangers who are seeing dolphins jumping in the wild for the first time is something I could never tire of. We still reminisce about different people we’ve met and of times spent on the boat.

Now that we have kids, I can’t just throw on my suit (not that I would be caught dead in a bathing suit right now) pack a beach bag and head to the marina for a day of fun in the sun. So the hubby indulges me and tells me about the people on the boat. Today he came home with the usual tales, but one in particular has stayed with me all evening.

One of the customers proposed to his girlfriend today. They stopped the boat, he got down on one knee and asked the woman he loves to spend the rest of her life with him. Now every romantic at heart reading this is right now thinking “Awwwww….”

And I too, thought that initially. But then I was reminded, that technically I am still a newlywed. Here in my household we did things a bit backwards. We got engaged, had The Big One, got pregnant with The Little One and then got married.

Our six month anniversary just passed on the 14^th without so much as a word about it from either of us. And although I wouldn’t change a thing, I suddenly felt a little robbed. We celebrated being married all of about 7 days. We were giddy with the “This is the first time we’re going grocery shopping married” and “This is the first time we are going to church married” stuff for a bit, but then life took over and the novelty wore off.

I can’t help but think that if we didn’t have a child, and if I wasn’t very pregnant with our second, that we maybe would have celebrated the little things more. But when you are spending four hours trying to get your two year old to sleep and barely getting sleep yourself because you have a parasite growing and moving inside you, the little things just don’t seem as important.

I can’t help but think that if we didn’t have children, that if we had done things a bit differently that our six month mark would have been something to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong we have plenty to celebrate. We love each other, we laugh, and we support each other 100%. We have two healthy daughters who learn new things and give us cause to celebrate every day.

I guess it just makes me realize that I need to spend a little more time celebrating the man who loves me, the man who puts up with my daily moods (however challenging they can be), and the man who gave me these two beautiful girls that we celebrate every day.

How often do you let life get in the way of celebrating the little things? It is, after all, the little things missed that we regret later in life.

Our Wedding Day :)

No Naps at Bedtime

All day today I was tired and irritable. After dinner I took the Little One into my bedroom to nurse and we both fell asleep. I woke up about an hour and a half later. As I am sneaking past the Big One’s room, I hear “Goodnight Mom.” So I go back to her doorway to give hugs, kisses, say goodnight- all the stuff we missed tonight because I fell asleep. As we’re talking I notice that she is wearing something over her pajamas, but I don’t really pay much attention to it. The Big One is known for adding and changing clothes once in her room at bedtime, so it’s nothing unusual.

She also is known for sleeping on the floor. For some reason the little weirdo prefers the hard floor over her soft bed. It may be that she carefully places 500 “friends” onto her bed every night, not leaving much room for her.

It has become a “Where’s Waldo?” game of sorts for the Captain and I, because we never know where or how we will find her once she has finally fallen asleep.

So tonight, as is our routine, the Captain and I peek in on the Big One to see where she has ended up. And I see it. But I can’t believe it. I finally get a good look at what she is wearing. It looks like she is wearing one of her old dresses.

“What is she wearing?” I ask the Captain. Remember- I was asleep for her entire bedtime routine.

“That dress that was in the garage.” He replies nonchalantly.

I look a little closer at my sleeping child and see that she is in fact wearing the dress from the garage. An old dress that she once wore- a long time ago.

“That dress is size 18 months.” I say to him and we share a laugh. I can’t believe that my 4T little girl squeezed into it!

“Guess that’s why I could only button one button”, he says as I shake my head. “What? I was on the phone…”, is his only defense.

And that is why moms should never take naps at bedtime.

The dress

The "friends" and miscellaneous stuff required for sleeping

Painful Truths

Children often speak painful truths, their innocent and simple minds unable to comprehend the effect their words have. Words unspoken, but felt by the adults that surround them. Words when said aloud hang in the air, never to be retracted.

Tonight we had one of those moments.

The Big One was telling the Captain that I was not his mom, after being confused by something he said . Something completely unrelated to her tirade. “She is NOT your mom. She is only mine and the Little One’s mom! You don’t have a mom!”

And there it was. The painful truth. A truth that he is reminded of every day. A truth that is realized every time he looks into her little face. I looked over at the Captain and saw his slight grimace from the remark, as if the Big One had slapped him in the face. Immediately my heart ached for him. The lump rose in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears I refused to let fall.

The few second of silence seemed like an eternity. I searched my mind and heart for the words to comfort him, to somehow take away the pain I know he felt at that moment, but my mouth remained still. My voice quiet. I just sat there, looking at him for a long time, tears teetering at the edge of my eyelid, admiring his strength.

Not having experienced loss like his, and never knowing what to say, I can only listen when he needs to talk, hold him when he needs to cry, and love him every second of the day. And since the pain is often too much to bear, I can be his voice. I can be the one to teach our girls about the grandmother who watches them from heaven. I will be the one to tell them that they have a guardian angel who watches over them while they sleep. And when the Captain is wishing that there is a heaven so his mom can one day see the girls, I can gently remind him that there is a heaven. And that she is smiling, proud of the man he has become. She smiles as she watches the son that she raised, grow to be an amazing father. And maybe, just maybe, for a moment anyway, the truth will not be so painful.