Nudist Colony

I've always wondered about the people who go to nudist colonies. Who wants to be naked all the time? I mean, really? Is clothing that uncomfortable? I'm not knocking nudity, but for me, there's a time and a place for it.
I've found that lately, there are two little boys who seem to adamantly disagree with me. My first clue was the picket line they formed as they marched around the house, naked (obviously), carrying signs that read, "There's Never a Bad Time to be Naked!" and "Save Money- Don't Buy Clothes!" Oh, my sweet little activists.
If they could drive, I'm sure I'd find these stickers on their bumpers*:





So in spite of my feelings on matters related to nudism, our house has become somewhat like a nudist colony.

OK, so the boys aren't always naked. And sometimes naked isn't really naked- it just means wearing underwear or diapers only. They always start the day in clothes. But as the day progresses, Jacob's clothes can frequently be found strewn on the dining room floor as he lounges, plays, or runs in his skivvies. Seriously, all year, Jeff and I have been waiting for an awkward phone call from his preschool teacher: "Um, hello, Jacob's mommy. I'm calling to tell you about an incident at school today. We noticed Jacob was missing for a few moments, when suddenly, he popped out from behind the bookshelf, completely undressed. He then began running around the room. The other little boys found it hilarious, but the little girls screamed, cried, and covered their eyes...we wondered if you would help us address this."

Thankfully, so far, disrobing has only occurred inside our home, or in the houses of family members.

Whenever Jacob is undressed, Alex naturally must follow suit. He'll approach me, tugging on that oh so restricting clothing that I guess all nudists complain about, saying, "Nay...nay...nay" (which means "naked" in Alex language). Since Alex has the dirty little habit of putting his hand in his diaper, naked for Alex meant he could run around wearing only a onesie. And that used to please him just fine.

Until.

Until, the President of the Nudist Colony took matters into his own hands. Jacob pulled Alex aside in the dining room one day and whispered in his ear, "Would you like to team up? We nudists must stick together." After Alex nodded yes, Jacob taught him the secret handshake, then took it upon himself to take the onesie off. And once Alex was only wearing a diaper, it was only seconds before that came off too.

This is what is going on in our house on pretty much any given day.

"Nay."



"It's so fun being 'nay'! Look how happy it makes us!"



And while I'm preoccupied, Alex sneaks off in his typical ninja fashion, and escapes to another room. Why? To become completely 'nay'.

"Oh, hello, Mother. Keep making eye contact with me so you don't notice my left hand."


"Nothing- my left hand is doing nothing. Yes, of course my diaper is still taped. You must be seeing things. Hmm, this isn't working. It seems I've underestimated my mommy's intelligence and observational skills. I'm just going to make a break for it and strip off this diaper while on the run."


And before I know it, Naked Laps have begun.**


Notice the discarded diaper.


Naked Laps come to an end when 1 of these 4 things happen:
1) Two little boys wear themselves out.
2) Mommy decides it's time to get dressed.
3) Someone comes to the door.
4) Alex pees.

On the day these particular laps took place, it was #4. When Jeff got home from work that evening, I said, "Alex, where did you pee pee today? Show daddy." Expecting to be led to the bathroom to watch a proud finger point to the toilet, imagine Jeff's surprise when Alex instead pointed to the foyer floor, just above where the diaper had been laying.
Maybe he was aiming for the diaper.

If Naked Running becomes a competitive sport one day, then I bet my boys will kick some butt. Literally.

If it doesn't, then I guess I'll be seeing them during their visits from the nudist colony.



*from cafepress.com
**little behinds have been blurred

Celebrity Impersonation

I often include a onesie as a layer underneath Alex's outfits since he's famous (or infamous) for sticking his hands down the front of his diaper. The shirt & shorts I dressed him in this morning were shed by the afternoon, so by the time Jeff got home from work this evening, Alex greeted him at the door wearing only a onesie. Today's onesie is one of several hand-me-downs, all of which are a little big for him. They're slightly baggy and expose his shoulder, but are not too large for him to wear right now. Or so I thought.

Jeff has commented on the size appropriateness of these onesies before, but never so cleverly or humorously as he did tonight.

After greeting Alex and doling out the usual home from work hugs, Jeff asked him,
"Why are you dressed like Belinda Carlisle?"







OK. I can kind of see it. But is there anything wrong with showing off a little shoulder?

Bedtime

I love bedtime.

In our house, bedtime means lots of different things.

If we're downstairs, it means both boys are eager to be carried up the steps on Jeff's back. Their enjoyment of this activity is something that my fear of heights just cannot understand.

It means chasing Alex, tackling him to the ground, and wrestling him into a clean diaper, onesie, and pajamas as he rolls from side to side in protest ("Must! Not! Be! Restrained!").

It means you may have to deal with a disgruntled Jacob if he is engrossed and involved in any kind of play or TV show.

It means Jacob has to pee in the potty and then don his overnight diaper, which also doubles as his pj's since anything else makes him sweat and causes him to strip in the middle of the night.

It means Jacob's teeth must be brushed with his electric Spiderman toothbrush, while Alex's are brushed once by Daddy with the old-fashioned toothbrush (meaning no batteries), and then a second time on his own. Which basically means sucking any remaining toothpaste from the bristles and chewing it like a teething toy. ("Tee! Tee!" You'll never hear the end of it until you hand him the toothbrush.)

It means Jacob needs his ice water by his bed, even if he doesn't drink it.

It means Alex gives me a kiss and hug goodnight, and lays his head on my shoulder before Jeff takes him to his room.

It means reading 2 books together in Jacob's bed.

It means waiting for Alex to settle down and resign himself to the fact that he must be confined to a crib for the next 10 hours or so. And he almost always sleeps straight through the night, which is wonderful. (We're still waiting on his big brother to follow suit.)

It means lying in Jacob's bed with him, having quiet conversations, hugs, kisses, snuggles, and knowing sleep is imminent when he begins rubbing and lightly tugging on my hair. And definitely after he yawns twice in a row.

It (usually) means hours of restful quiet are about to be enjoyed.

For 2 little boys, it means anywhere from 8:30-9:30 p.m.

For the 2 big kids, it means anywhere from 9:30 p.m.-2:30 a.m.

And sometimes, like last night, it means a bedtime prayer.


Jacob & I had just finished reading our two books, and were settling into bed when he said, "Mommy? Let's prayer."

Me: "Let's pray? OK. We can pray."

So he clasps his hands together, fingers intertwined, and lifts them to his mouth. Like this, only without the snazzy outfit and styled hair:


(Sorry for the bad quality. I took this while he was on stage during his preschool's Christmas program and had to zoom in a LOT.)

This is how he looks when he prays. I think it adds an extra sweetness and cuteness to what is inherently a precious moment.

Then he began.

"Dear God,

Thank you for this bootiful day.
Jesus loves me.
I love Miss Marsha, Miss Lisa, and Miss Shari.*
I love my mommy, my daddy, and Alex.
I love my cousins.
And I love lotsa different things.**
Thank you.
Amen."

Me: "Amen. That was such a nice prayer, Jacob."

And as he opened his eyes, which had been squeezed shut with occasional peeking at me (I know because I peeked too), he gave me one of his big smiles, probably because the pride and happiness I felt was written all over my face.
Then he snuggled up to me, threw his arm around my neck, and began stroking my hair.

Me: "Goodnight, buddy. I love you."

Jacob: "Goodnight. I love you too."

A minute later, he yawned twice. And I got to lie there with him as he held me, and watch him drift off to sleep.

I love bedtime.



*Miss Marsha is Jacob's Speech Therapist, and Miss Lisa & Miss Shari are his preschool teachers.

**Anyone not specifically mentioned in Jacob's sweet prayer, please don't take offense. Most likely, you've been listed in previous prayers. In this one, you fall under the category of "lotsa different things."

Crafts

Jacob loves preschool. I remember how nerve-racking and upsetting it was for me when I dropped him off on that first day. It took longer for me to adjust to preschool life than it did him (is that normal?), but it certainly helped seeing how much he enjoyed it.
And now, here we are in May with the end of the school year quickly approaching. I don't know what we're going to do with our Tuesday & Thursday mornings when that happens. I know he'll miss it. He loves his teachers (so do I), his friends, the toys, their activities, and recess.
And yea, I'm happy he loves all of that. But you know what I love about preschool?

The crafts.

I'm like a little kid tearing through a gift bag on Christmas morning when I start digging through his book bag looking for new crafts before we've even left the parking lot. I've kept about 95% of the crafts he has made this year. I thought I'd show off pictures of a few of my favorites.
But I'm saving the one he made special for me as a Mother's Day gift for last. Just so everyone reading can be on the edge of their seats.

The groundhog seeing his shadow, of course.


These next two are currently being displayed on our fridge.


Yes, those are real sunflower seeds. There are no shortcuts taken with these preschool crafts.


Not quite the same as having the live turtle he wanted to bring home from the aquarium, but close enough.



I loved this craft he made at Christmastime of Jesus in his manger.


A never before seen photograph of Baby Jesus.


And a somewhat disgruntled looking angel.


How did this picture of Jacob get in here? Oh, wait...that's not Jacob. That's his body double. I always make that mistake.




I think his head is my favorite part, with his blue eyes, blonde hair, smiling mouth, and pink brain matter existing outside of his skull. In the future, all of our brains will be able to function this way. All it will need is just a little corner of our heads to hang on to, and our brains will be set.


I'm glad this one's labeled.


Drum roll, please. This is what I found in his book bag today. My Mother's Day gift and card.
"This is the hand you used to hold when I was only 3 years old."
Naturally, I was teary-eyed.


The front of my homemade Mother's Day card.

Jacob has explained to me that all four of us are depicted on this card.
I am the very tall, leggy one with outstretched arms in the center of the card.
Jacob is the floating body to the left.
Alex is the oval shape just to the left of my long right arm.
And Jeff is the mosquito-like entity on the right side of the card.

This is the first picture Jacob has drawn of me. And I just love it.

On the inside, there's a sweet poem.



The other little treasure on the inside are his answers to a set of questions his teachers asked him about me.

What Mom prepares to eat that I like best...
Eggs.
(He does love my scrambled eggs. I make them extra fancy with cheese.)

I like for Mom to take me to...
Church.
(We really need to start going regularly. Maybe this is his subtle way of telling me that he thinks so too.)

Mom taught me how to...
Get more muscles.
(By drinking healthy drinks and eating the food I make for him, of course! I'll save the weightlifting for Daddy.)

When I grow up, I want to be...
A daddy.

My favorite song that Mom sings to me...
Over My Head. (by The Fray)

You are the best at playing Transformers, Mom!
(I might be good at playing them, but I'm just awful at transforming them. I can't count the number of times I've heard Jacob say, "Daddy can fix all of the Transformers because he can fix everything. Mommy can only fix one.")


I always wondered if parents were being honest when they'd say "homemade gifts are the best".

They were.

Mothers

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us, when adversity takes the place of prosperity, when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts."
--Washington Irving

Jeff and I are both fortunate to have been blessed with wonderful mothers, who are there for us whenever we need them as moms or grandmothers. We both know how lucky we are, and hopefully they know how much we love and appreciate them.








And both have been amazing as Nan and Grandmom since Day 1.
Literally.

June 22, 2005



August 24, 2007



We love you, Mom and Mom #2. And we hope you know every day, and not just on Mother's Day, how special you are to us.


If I'm being honest, my own Mother's Day got off to a bit of a shaky start. I had hoped to be granted the opportunity to sleep in, but the Alex alarm clock went off at its typical time. At 7 a.m., I heard him calling from his room, "Ma! Ma!" I waited to see if Jeff would pop out of bed, and tell me reassuringly, "Don't worry, honey. You go right back to sleep. I'll take care of this." But when I looked over at him sleeping peacefully, I could almost hear the *Poof!* as my daydream disappeared. As I sluggishly pulled my sweats on, I'm pretty certain I saw him open his eyes, look at the clock, and fall right back to sleep.

Happy Mother's Day to me!

Thankfully, things only went uphill from there, and Jeff redeemed himself in a big way. A little over an hour later, he and Jacob drove to Cracker Barrel and picked up a pancake breakfast for me. And some food for them too.
He watched the boys while I ran some errands, did a little shopping, and visited my sister. And later, we had some great family time at the playground.
I received two very sweet cards from Jeff and the boys. Jacob even signed his name in their card. And so did Alex- with a little help from his daddy.




A few days ago, I was talking to a friend about plans for Mother's Day. When I told him I didn't really have any, he said, "Well, you can spend the day soaking in the kids."

I said, "I get to soak in my kids all day, every day."

I know I'm lucky.

And even during the moments the boys are driving me crazy (it happens every now and then),
or the times I look at the clock and count down to bedtime (or Miller Lite hour),
or when asking two boys who are bouncing off the walls to please calm down a little bit, and get this in response from Jacob:

"Boys don't sit down and rest. We are WILD!" (which actually, I found rather hilarious)

I still know how blessed I am. And I can't imagine having it any other way.

I hope my boys always, always know how much their mommy adores them, loves them, loves being with them, loves having sons, loves their smiles, their hugs, their kisses, their personalities, their senses of humor, their voices, how happy they make her, and how sometimes, she finds herself just gazing at them, wondering how in the heck she got so lucky.

I love you so much, Jacob and Alex. Since Day 1 and always.

June 2005



August 2007



May 2009


"Of all the rights of women, the greatest is to be a mother."
-- Lin Yutang

Goodbye, Papa

Explaining death to a 4-year old can be a little bit tough.

Earlier this week, my dad's father, who we have always called Papa, was referred to Hospice services. Because of my background as a social worker for older adults, I knew that such a referral could still mean he had up to six months to live. So at first, I wasn't overly worried or upset. He was always such a tough man, and has overcome so many illnesses and setbacks, that surely it would happen again this time.
Surely.
He was admitted to the hospital later, given morphine, spending his days and nights sedated and unaware of people's presence in his room. The doctor told my family that he guessed Papa had approximately 2-5 days to live. Yesterday morning, he said 24-48 hours.

This morning, my mom called and said, "He's gone." She was in the room with him while he passed away and told me he went very peacefully. His eyes and mouth closed, and his labored breathing, loud with the sound of fluid in his lungs, simply stopped.
She said it looked like he had a small smile on his lips.

I have been somewhat of an emotional mess. I can't seem to help but cry at the thought or mention of him, and just talking about him is sure to bring about more tears.

As I lay in my bed yesterday, sobbing, Jacob came in my room and climbed in right beside me. He slid up against me and put his arm around me.
He held me and said, "Stop crying, Mommy. Be happy."
He really doesn't like it when I cry.
Me: "Mommy's sad right now, sweetie. It's OK to be sad sometimes."

Jacob: "But why are you sad?"

Me: "Do you remember Nana (Jacob's name for my Grandma) & Papa? That's Pop Pop's mommy and daddy."

Jacob: "Yes."

Me: "Well, Papa is very sick. He's in the hospital. And tomorrow or the next day, he's going to leave and go live with Jesus in Heaven. I'm sad because I'm going to miss him very, very much."

Jacob: "But why is him goin' there?"

Me: "Well, when people get really old, that's where they go."

Jacob: "Where is Jesus?"

Me: "He's up really high in the sky, remember? Up in Heaven."

Jacob: "But how is him gonna get up there with Jesus?"

Me: "An angel will take him."

Jacob: (with a small smile) "Oh. Cuz dem have wings."

Me: "That's right."

Jacob: (pondering a moment) "Do the wings hurt their back?"

Me: "I don't think so, buddy."

Jacob: "I don't want wings on my back."

Me: "I don't want wings either."

And he continues to snuggle up against me, lightly stroking my hair as he likes to do when he's falling asleep at bedtime. It was so comforting, that for a moment, I felt like our roles had been reversed.

Me: "Thank you for making Mommy feel a little better."

Jacob: "You're welcome."

Me: "I love you."

Jacob: "I love you too."

And once my little ray of sunshine was off and running to the playroom, I sunk back into my feelings of sadness.


My head knows that Papa lived a long, happy life. He would have turned 92 years old on July 11th.

My head knows he was feeling miserable, and had little quality of life. He used to thrive on his ability to walk and exercise well into his eighties, and was proud of himself for being in such good shape, both mentally and physically.
Recently, he was only able to walk short distances with a walker. And not easily.

My head also knows he was ready to go.

But I've always been the kind of person who tends to follow her heart. And all my heart knows is how much I'll miss him.
How strange it will be to mail pictures or a letter, and address it to just Grandma instead of Grandma and Papa.

How hard it will be to see Grandma without Papa.

How difficult it is to even think about not seeing him.

That I'll never hear his laugh. His jokes. Or the stories he loved to tell.

And while I'm grateful he was alive to meet and spend time with the boys, and feel honored that Alex was named after him (John Alexander), I hate that they won't know him better. And that they won't remember him except through pictures or stories I tell them.


Grandma and Papa dancing at my wedding in October 2002.


The men in our family on Mother's Day 2005.


Papa first met Jacob when he was 3 months & 1 week old.


When I was a little girl, my favorite stuffed animal was Curious George. Papa used to love to tell the story of when I was visiting, and he took me & George on a wagon ride throughout their neighborhood. As we neared the house, he said I was crying because I had unknowingly dropped Curious George along the way. And he would tell me that he turned the wagon right back around, and retraced our steps until we found George lying on the sidewalk. He said I was so happy to find him.
From time to time, Papa would ask if I still had that same Curious George. And, yes, I do. He got an even bigger kick out of the fact that Jacob also loved Curious George. Mine's the one a 20 month old Jacob is cradling in his left arm.












Papa met Alex when he was 6 weeks old (I had to do the math several times because Alex looks so huge).









I feel grateful for the visit I had with him two weeks ago. The visit where he was talkative, humorous, and loving, as always. And I'm happy to have that as my last memory of him.

His funeral is this Friday. Because of his time served in WWII, the military will honor him during the service.
Gosh, he would love that.

I love you, Papa, and you've always been my favorite grandparent. I'll miss you so much.