zach n kali

This post is dedicated to my friend Vickie, who has gone through this stage three times with grace, and listens to me with sympathy and laughter. Toddler.  The word to me conjures up images of exhaustion and terror.  When you hear "baby", it's easy to ignore the sleepless nights and the constant crying, because images of giggles, pudgy smiles, cooing, lullabies, and strolls through the park are so strong.  Toddler implies endless energy, willful independence, the possibility of tantrums at the store, spaghetti everywhere, and toys all over the house.  These are definitely the adjectives I would have provided when I was childless.  And with a baby, I had to know that when I got to this phase, somehow God would give me the grace to get through it. Oh, but how wrong I was!  Don't get me wrong - I'm exhausted!  A friend asked me if I had blogged recently and I replied that I hadn't found the time, that when M became a toddler, suddenly my time disappeared.  We

True Confession:  I am a martyr mom.  I am not proud of this, but acceptance is the first step to recovery.  The martyr mom is the one who pushes on and tries to get everything done herself.  The martyr mom is the one who doesn't ask for help, but then gets frustrated when no one else steps up to the task.  The martyr mom is the one who, when told to take a break, says "just let me finish this" and then moves on to the next chore.  The martyr mom is the one who thinks she is "taking one for the team", but is in reality driving everyone else nuts. How do I know this?  Because I am the Martyr Mom.  Last week I hurt my hand, but I wasn't going to let that stop me!  There was too  much to get done!  The laundry wasn't going to do itself, the dishes weren't going to magically be clean, and no fairy was going to make dinner for us.  So I pushed through the pain, did three loads of laundry, unloaded/loaded/and hand washed the dishes, and cooked spaghetti

Just a minute ago, I was picking something up off the floor when M came barreling toward me for a hug.  I cannot express to you how much I love these hugs!  So I opened my arms and as he ran into them, there was a large splat and something wet hit my arm.  Now, I knew that he had been playing with the towels and washcloths in the kitchen, but why would one be wet?  Then it dawned on me - the one water source he could reach.  Have you ever had that point where you realize how gross something really is?  It took just a few steps to confirm what I feared - toilet paper everywhere, water surrounding the toilet, and the realization that it had just been too quiet only moments earlier.  I had been hugged with toilet water.

Dear Baby Boy, When did you stop being a baby?  When did this little boy emerge, so independent and full of ideas and opinions?  It seems like it was just yesterday that I was introducing you to new things, showing you textures and foods.  Now here you are exploring on your own and bringing things to me with new excitement!  Everything is an adventure.  Whether it's a piece of grass, your trucks, or pointing at the cat for the millionth time, everything is new and exciting. Each new word you learn is said and repeated again and again with such pride.  The little baby that I loved so much has turned into a little boy that I love even more.  Instead of trying to keep you awake until bedtime, it's now you who is tiring me out early!  You no longer watch me put blocks together, but instead build them into tall towers yourself.  I love your creativity and your energy.  I loved seeing your smile today as we looked at the fish in the pet store.  I love hearing you say "Buh!"