Grateful for Facebook

I'm grateful for Facebook.  There's that word again:  Grateful, Gratitude, Thankful, Thanksgiving.  I know you are wondering, what the heck?  Yes, I am grateful for Facebook and their gentle reminder that my Military Man's 21st birthday was yesterday and Ladybug's 15th birthday is today.  I am forgetful in my old age.  They say a mom might forget the pain of child birth, but what they don't tell you is that the mom's might forget the birthday's if it weren't for the kindness of the good people at Facebook.

Actually, I could never forget my kids birthday's.  I'm just being funny here.  Happy birthday to my TJ, it was just yesterday you looked like this..

And Ladybug...

I still remember when TJ asked if we could put you back, that he wanted a brother.  

Sibling rivalry!  Yeah, that stuff starts early!  

I'm grateful for the opportunity to be your mother.  

Who's Older?

Source

It's true, I started my family young.  But not TOO young.  I was 21 almost 22 when my first son was born.  I was 23 when my second son was born.  I think that whole experience of having children 15 months apart aged me...midnight feedings, bouncing boys, diapers, etc.  That's no lie.  But I don't feel old, yet I have a 20 year old and a 19 year old and let's not forget, of course, the 14 year old.  Interestingly, I have some friends from high school that seem to have just barely started having babies.  They are my age and they have infants or two year olds...I honestly just can't imagine.  Here I am close to the "empty nester" stage, I feel young, I feel great, and these friends are just starting out.  I have a hard time wrapping my brain around that one.

I'm not sure I would ever do it any differently, but they had their child free time when they were young, but are going to have children at home most likely till they are 60!  Then there's me...had them young, and only 4 more years till my youngest goes off to college.  Sometimes I wonder who is feeling older....Me, because I have such old kids, or them because they are doing midnight feedings and changing diapers at 43 and 44.

I know there is no right way to do it, but the vain person in me wants to know,

Who's Older?

I am so excited

I am so excited to share my latest news with you. Oh my gosh! I am beside myself. I've been feeling a little moody and under the weather. My boobs are bigger and so is my belly. I decided to do the dreaded pee on a stick, and you guessed it....Prego. Almost 42 and Prego!

I'm just kidding. I'm just FAT!

April Fools!

Babies are Mesmerizing

What is it about little babies that is so mesmerizing?  I find that I can sit and stare at them for hours.  I get lost in those little eyes, that just a short time ago laid eyes on our Heavenly Father.  I ogle them watching for those sweet expression and smiles as I ooh and ahh.  I blow raspberries in their chubby necks to hear the contagious giggles.  I thought this rapture and infatuation had ended with my babies.  How could I possibly feel the same about any other baby? 

Then, in walks Baby Z, and she has stolen my heart.  My little niece comes for a visit about once a week.  I am at my brother's mercy.  I have texted him, "Go to a movie and bring me your baby!", though they have yet to take me up on my offer.  I am so glad he and my sis are willing to share and let me goober all over their sweet little angel from time to time.

Some people think babies are boring.  They find more excitement in them as they get older and become more interactive.  I find there is something divine about every stage, but when they are infants, they are the closest you can come to heaven.

But then I remember...

Sometimes when I see young mothers snuggling their babies, I wish I still had one. I loved to kiss and smell their chubby, soft necks scented of Baby Magic. I adore feeling completely loved and thoroughly needed. Perhaps I am agonizing over the slow loss of my youth. I mean I am closer to menopause than child bearing. But then I remember...

TOASTER BABIES!!

A toaster baby is a child who, once you put down to bed, pops right back up. My boys, being only 15 months apart, kept me on my toes. Bedtime was never easy. Back then KT worked nights. The first two years we were married he worked days, but when babies started coming he worked nights for the subsequent seven years. (Secretly, I think he worked that shift on purpose, and sometimes I hated him for it.) I think he planned it so that he wouldn't be around for the bedtime routine. I remember many nights holding the bedroom door shut so the little guys couldn't come bounding out of their room for the tenth time. Was this child abuse? I think not. I hoped that I could outlast them and eventually they would go back to their beds and sleep. More often than not, I was the one who sunk to the floor in defeat, sobbing because I just couldn't do it anymore.

So, now when I feel that little nag and need for a baby fix all I have to do is remember...

***This is in no way meant to be anti-baby. I LOVED that phase of my life. There were just parts I could have been happy without.***