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The TRUTH About Motherhood

Tag: babies

  • Don’t believe the hype

    Who’s the spin doctor for Motherhood? Seriously, who was it who decided to tell us that when we get pregnant we ‘glow ‘ and ‘ never look more beautiful’ ?Did I really , could I really, have been so naive to believe that harboring a fugitive parasite in my body for 10 months could make me beautiful. Saying it out loud sounds ridiculous.You’d think someone with a 147 IQ would have known better. Let’s be honest , when I was pregnant , I felt nauseaus, bloated , fat, ugly, unlike myself , grouchy, mean, horny , hateful, hungry , tired and like I had to pee a lot. But not once , do I ever remember feeling beautiful or glowing . I guess if they told us the truth the species would die out . I guess it’s not all so bad, I did go back for seconds. Pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson now, though . Happy Mothering, may it be all it’s cracked up to be.

    -Truthful Mommy xoxo

  • We don’t need maternity!!!

    The other day my husband and I are trying to purchase a new insurance plan for ourselves. That’s why we took a look at the policies from Garrity Insurance. Obviously, we’re all rogue in this field trying to feel our way as we go. Normally, all the logistics of the plan is handled by the place of employment. Not this time. So, after I spend what feels like forever on the phone trying to speak with an actual human being (in actuality it was seriously about 4 hours over a period of 2 days). I finally after much patience, a little bit of cussing and quite a bit of aggravation get a wonderful human being on the other end of the line, who is actually very informative and helpful. Bonus!!! I am ecstatic, I call my husband to let him know that after discussing the plans with this agent I had found a suitable health insurance plan for our family…NEVER want to have sick kids with no insurance. It’s just too much for my heart to handle. I absolutely must be able to take my children in at a moments notice or on any occasion of anything suspect that may arise in their health. I’m pretty much a “shake it off” kinda gal, when it comes to me, but when it comes to my girls. I don’t mess around. I am almost immediately on the phone with the nearest doctor I know, whether it be their pediatrician or one of the other wonderful doctors that I am blessed to have in our lives on a more personal level. Anyways, I was pretty happy with myself for pushing through all the clicks and beeps on the phone to actually investigate and find a plan. I call my husband at work , in IOWA, to let him know I had it taken care of it all by myself. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t expecting some sort of kudos. I explain the plan, tell him the monthly costs and this was his response, “Really? That seems high. Does that include maternity?” I’m thinking, what the hell does that have to do with the price of rice? Does he mean he wants another baby? What’s going on here? But soon , my question was answered with a hard swift, quick to my metaphorical balls.  “Why?” I ask. ” because…WE DON”T NEED MATERNITY!!!!!” Wow, it was almost as if, in that moment, he had a secret metaphorical vasectomy. That was what I felt like.  I don’t know why it bothered me, maybe because I felt like he was making a statement. Drawing a line in the sand of some sort. It’s not like we plan on having any more children, its just that statement felt so final. It made me apprehensive and nervous, you know like not having health insurance, in case you need to go to the doctor, or car insurance, in case you get into a wreck. I’m a planner and an organizer, not ashamed to say, a little bit of a control freak and I need insurances in life….just in case life throws me a curve ball.

  • Beware: Object in photo may cause hormonal reaction

     
    Cutest baby ever.She is so precious, and that is definitely dangerous. This of which I speak is her effect on all unsuspecting Mommies who have decided they are done having children. You know who you are. We see one hair on her head, get one whiff of her baby breath and hold her sweet, little, cute self in our arms and we are goners. She is amazing. The caption should read: Beware this tiny adorable person may cause you to have second thoughts, pangs of yearning, and end up with one more lovely baby of your own.
     

  • Fleeting Moments of hormone laced Insanity

    It’s that time again, yes, everyone around me is either having a baby or anticipating trying to have a baby. I know, didn’t I just post about this? Anyways,there are two things that I have come to know as my truths..they may even be universal. The first is that apparently I am still on the fence about a third child because no matter how many times I tell myself, I am done and I want to move on with my life, every single time one of my friends or relatives tells me they are pregnant, trying to get pregnant or has a baby I get just the tiniest pang of ,”Oooh, I want one.” My cousin just had one, and she is absolutely adorable in every way ,shape and form and , at the mere glimpse of her photo, I am magically transported out of the house of the screaming preschoolers, the biting toddler, the bizarro world where I find myself being sarcastic to children back to that first moment of their first breaths..where the entire world was magical and wonderful and unicorns lived, etc. Imagine what would happen to me if I were to be in the same room with this little blessing, I could quite possibly lose it and ravish my husband in the instant like a rabid dog trying to consummate and obtain the fruit of his loins.Seriously, I could not be trusted that close to a brand new baby. Is it just me? Or is this a pretty common scenario for Mid thirties Mommies with 2 already? I just about can’t handle it anymore. I feel like I am crazy. I know on Tuesday that there is no way I want to do this whole ordeal again ( well, to be honest.. I know that I don’t want to intentionally do this again. I think this is my way of not accepting responsibility if the next one were not perfect or I found myself ready to pull my hair out in the middle of some random 3 am awakening. Then what?Who would I blame?) but by Wednesday I find myself day dreaming at the possibility. I don’t know how this is going to come out but I think I need to be protected from myself:) I don’t think I have to worry too much, seeing as my husband is on “hell nah” patrol and he will be working out of town a lot soon. Thankfully, saving me from myself!

  • Truthful/Tell all Tuesdays

    Ok, Ladies its Tuesday and ,as I said, today is the day we can all vent “anonymously” if preferred, and get everything off our minds..without judgement:)I will start the ball rolling:
    Is it wrong that sometimes I wish I was brave enough to dose my kids with ibuprofin, so they would go to sleep at a reasonable hour without me having to lay down with them?
    Sometimes, I really miss my life before I was married or had kids, so much so that I fantasize about who I used to be:)LOL
    OK, Ladies those are my two for today. Please share yours in the comment section. Come one! Come all! Don’t be shy, no one will judge you here. No one thinking how you are not up to par or dropped the ball in Mommyland.Just pure support and sisterhood!

  • PMS and Motherhood

    PMS~ There is Premenstrual Syndrome, more aptly called the one week a month that I hate all living creatures for even having the gall to breathe, little lone have the audacity to speak to me or ask me for anything at all.But then there is the ever so lovely, PMS and having the responsibility of mothering. Are you effing kidding me? Who ever thought this was a good idea? Come on, it is not an understatement to say it is potentially as deadly a mix as pills and booze.

    My dearly beloved husband has departed (no he’s not dead…yet) to the great state of Virginia, for business leaving me, with my last shreds of sanity, alone with my two beautiful girls.

    ALONE with PMS!

    I have been trying my best to keep them occupied, so they don’t feel the void of their father’s presence as much as they might, say sitting around the house doing nothing. We have been running to and fro, engaging in every last activity I can come up with. This is being done for a dual purpose; 1) to keep my daughters’ completely preoccupied with other activities so they are not missing daddy too much ( and constantly whining about it, as they have so boldly demonstrated they are quite capable of doing) and 2)to keep my house in spic and span condition on the rare chance that there is someone in this world who is actually looking to buy an awesome house in a great subdivision in this awful economy. This has been my life since my husband has made his departure. And if I may say so, myself, I have been doing a damn good job at both, though tiring and nerve racking as it has been.

    PMS you Sneaky Bitch! I’m busy! Go away!

    Then, from out of nowhere, since I myself have been so preoccupied with all of these activities and have forgotten the beast from within that never misses her visit, she arrives and she is taking no prisoners. I have been ripping heads off of cable companies, phone companies, and even the occasional bystander for 2 days now.I had the good sense of self awareness to realize what was happening, while I was visiting my parents and my 4 year old, who has decided she can’t hear anymore, had a sleep deprived melt down and wanted to leave my mothers house…at bedtime. Yes, at bedtime! This happened after, the previous night, her 2 year old sister had decided that she wasn’t caring for sleeping (all three of us) in Grandma’s full sized bed and proceeded to punish me by screaming ,sporadically, without cause, at the top of her lungs… all night long. Yes, ladies, all night long. Remember those nights with a newborn, when you were so sleep deprived that you prayed for death, just so that you could sleep? This was way worse. Anyways, back to the meltdown, so rather than calm her down, soothing her, and coaxing her to lay down at Grandma’s like I normally would have done. I said, “OK, go potty!” and I proceeded to chuck every bit of crap we brought into the back of my SUV..with the speed of lightening and the fury of the a goat on crack. My parents watched silently and my children, being that they are apparently aware that Mommy gets a little crazy once a month, were unaffected. They simply said their good byes to the grandparents and ignored my mood completely.

    Driving home, completely besot with myself, and completely over my kids meltdown, it hit me…” You crazy bitch, calm down. It’s PMS week” We, Ella, Abbi and myself (Sybil for the week) made it home without any real incident. That night, as I put them in bed and looked at their sweet little faces, I thought to myself, do these kids know how truly dangerous their Mama’s PMS really is? Luckily not. Normally, my husband is here to offset the true glory that is my PMS but with him gone, I was left to deal with it all on my own and it was not pretty. I spoke with my husband and let him know that I am having my beast visit this week. He is coming home, after two weeks of being gone, his response to me was ,”Oh God. Can it be over by the time I get there?” Luckily for him, I was not in the throes of the syndrome or that could of warranted him a tongue lashing to not soon be forgotten, at the very least. I have come to the conclusion through this ordeal that it should be a law of nature that once you have children you no longer can experience the “syndrome.” It truly is quite counter productive and very much as reckless and deadly as “Pills and booze”.Of course, if pills and booze were involved I believe I would be much more likable this week anyways. But alas, as does mothering and PMS not mix neither does mothering and pills or booze. As all good mothers do, I will suck it up and put on a happy face. My girls are awesome blessings and as long as I can keep that in perspective maybe I can keep the beast at bay, at least until my husband gets home:)

    PMS, You may have Won the Battle but Not the War!

  • Road Tripping with Toddlers or Hell on Wheels

    Road Tripping with Toddlers

    Road Tripping with Toddlers  is not for the week. We are on a mini vacation/ look see around town for my husbands potential new job, in Virginia. First, let me start by saying, this is one of the most gorgeous parts of the country that I have been to thus far in my life. The weather is awesome, the foliage abounds, large cities are concealed by an enveloping plethora of greenery. Essentially, you have big city life with the look of the country and all the amenities of a Beaches all inclusive resort. So, that is where we are Today!
    On Saturday, however, we were road tripping with toddlers for 12 glorious hours. Yes, that is correct, 12 hours with a 4 and newly turned 2 year old.Can you say a little touch of hell on earth. My ,otherwise, sweet loving girls do not like to be confined in those 5 point harnesses on a good day on a trip across town. So, imagine their state at taking their very first long drive trip imprisoned in those wonderful harnesses.

    My oldest, rambunctious as ever, insisted on asking, every 20 minutes or so,”Are we there yet?” I always thought that was a funny spoof on parenting but now I realize that it is, in fact, the truth of traveling with children. I never realized how frazzling that could be to me as a person. I thought “those” moms have no patience. Just say ,”Not yet, in a little while.” Why all the overreaction? Then I realized that it can actually bring you to the brink of insanity and make a grown woman, such as myself, cry, almost inconsolably, if asked in the right voice and enough times over a 12 hour period.

    While the oldest was hitting us with the barrage of “Are we there yet”s the youngest was freaking out of her ever loving mind about a gnat. Yes, a gnat, that supposedly must have been the scariest, meanest, baby eating gnat you ever did see because , god bless her little bitty heart, she screamed bloody murder for at least 3 hours of the trip.Oh, the humanity! So, to sum it up, my 4 year old is wondering if we are there yet, every single second of every single minute we were on the road, my 2 year old is being terrorized by a gnat and screaming so highly pitched, that all the dogs of the world were seeking her out to eat her and end the misery, I am at the brink of insanity on the verge of losing the battle and my poor beloved husband is trying to plot his course to the nearest gunsmith to rent a gun and buy a bullet.
    Then I pull out my bag of tricks because obviously the 1200 DVDs that I brought are not holding their attention. First , we color ( you know those Wonder Crayola colors that magically appear on the special paper but nothing else..that’s what you think, but that’s another story entirely), then we color the glittery ones, then we color My little Pony. We sing, only the songs that they know so we had Bella’s favorites, “Twinkle ,Twinkle” and “Mary had a little Lamb” and Gabi’s favorites “Happy Burtday to you!” and ” Five, Five DOlla..Five Dolla foot long!” Yes, my 2 year old is obsessed with the Subway commercial jingle. Have you any idea how many times they play that thing? I do , because she sings it incessantly. Don’t get me wrong, in the right context, it is absolutely adorable. She is the cutest thing that has ever walked this earth, besides her sister, of course, but everything in moderation. Interrupted only by the “Are we there yet?” inquiry of her sister. OK, so brink of insanity on way to gun shop, we stop at lunch and we try and let them stretch there legs at some wayward Wendy’s in West Virginia. Not my idea, have you seen Wrong Turn?
    We get lunch, they have ants in their pants and can’t keep still. We get the food, the chicken flavored whatsamanuggets are not done, still doughy,”EWWWW, gross”, as my daughter like to say. I return them. We wait, I return with nuggets, all is good in the land.

    Road Tripping With Toddlers

    Road Tripping with Toddlers is Hell on Wheels

    A ‘fly” dares to descend upon the table. All hell breaks lose. Toddlers jumping everywhere, screaming, crying, running away in terror. I did mention it was a fly and not Godzilla, right? Not a horsefly, just a regular old house fly! In true fix the situation fast fashion, I take off my flip flop and the untimely death of one unsuspecting fly ensues. All is good in the land, and then Gabs, because all of the attention we just received was apparently not enough for her, screams, at the absolute top of her lungs “EWWWW, FAARTED.Stinks”. Absolutely, mortified , I say ” OK, honey, it’s OK.” Then I realize, amongst all of the commotion, she did not have any kind of flatulation incident. Apparently, she just thinks it’s funny and likes to take credit for such occurrence. She is really better than the dog. This is a quirk I am hoping she outgrows.

    Bella, my older one starts asking, “Mom, what are we going to do on our vacation?” I say, because I am out of the car and somewhat rational and overly sweet because I am trying to gain redemption from being “Crazy Mommy” from in the car,
    “Well, sweetie.we’ll look around the town and eat out, maybe go to Busch Gardens, and we will take you girls to the pool at the hotel.” She look at me with wide eyes,” Even you, Mommy?”

    First lets put this into context, I am a Mommy in my mid 30’s, I am a little over weight and a little out of shape, and I hate swimsuits with a passion. I have since I was a teenager. It’s like a taunting suit, it takes every possible flaw you can possibly have and flaunts it to the discriminating eyes of the world. But I do occasionally wear these horrible contraptions to play with my children and because I am determined not to pass my body issues on to them. In response to my daughter, I say “yes, sweetie, even Mommy.” I look at my husband and say ” What the heck, I don’t know any of these people.I’m going swimming!” To which my daughter responds in her most defiant voice “Yeah,I don’t know these people either, so I’m going swimming too!”

    How funny, she has no idea about the context but dammit, she’s going swimming!! I’m still in the throes of this mini vacation that teeters between heaven and hell, I’ll post more when we all arrive safely at home, by passing any and all asylums and gun shops…save for that poor Godzilla fly at the Wrong Turn Wendys. The only thing more difficult than Road Tripping with Toddlers is road tripping with TWO toddlers.

    How have you survived road tripping with toddlers?

    Road Tripping with toddlers Only the Strong need Apply

    Photo Credit

  • Breaking up is hard to do

    Breaking Up is hard to do~ We’ve all been there. That’s moment in a relationship when you know its not going anywhere, and its certainly not moving forward, that’s the moment that you know its over. Your challenge is to decide whether to let it die a slow painful death or to end it quickly, and just pull it off like a band aid on a hairy arm and pray for not too much collateral damage. After the breakup, you might even need some coping tactics, such as a breakup recovery course, just to revitalize yourself. We expect these situations when we are dating but not when we are play dating. But alas, it happens, and more often than not, I suspect.

    It starts off innocent enough, you have a friend whom you know, however well, and one, or both of you, has the brilliant idea to form a sorority of friendship held together by the glue that is our children. Then one, or both of you, decides to enlist other friends or acquaintances into said group because, after all, the bigger the better. A seemingly perfect scenario of coffee amongst the pitter patter of little feet, quickly evolves into headaches amongst screaming children, at the very least. There you are with a group of strangers, that you may or may not have anything in common with, vying for one anther’s attention. People start to clique off but amongst it all there is an eerie façade of equal friendship. That “OMG, we are all so great. I love you all so much” bullshit that you keep spoon feeding one another because you are afraid if you are human and don’t love every single one of them, or at least pretend to do so, you will be known for the truly horrible bitch that you really are. It’s frigging high school with babies. Now, there are a lot of benefits to joining these groups for example; you meet women who are , at the very least, in the exact same situation as you are, as far as having children and raising them ( most times that is where the similarities end. It is sorta like lobbying to your family why you are dating a certain gentleman with the only weapon in your arsenal being that he is a human being. Not much of an argument after all).

    Joining play date groups gives you an opportunity to get advice, share war stories, feel safe, get guidance in where to go and what to do with your lovely, beautiful fruit of your loins. It sounds fantastic doesn’t it? It also gives us a place to be judged at every choice we make concerning our children, its like inviting other women into your life and licensing them to insult you, not only with their words but with their thoughts and actions. After all, they are Super Moms and you are a mere human so if you don’t see it their way and have no remorse about your imperfection, well then , you deserved to be damned to hell. How could every single woman in the world not want this peace, loving ,warm ,frigging, fuzzy feeling? Have we been idiots up until now and where would we be? How would we function without the great invention of play dates?
    We’d be happy and a lot less insecure and probably less judgmental and a little more caring and fulfilled. I love my “play date moms”, that’s what we refer to one another as because God, knows we seldom evolve past that point. If you can maintain superficial friendships, and hang out with women that you have nothing in common with ( other than both having children), and this doesn’t bother you…then play dates are the place for you. I have made a couple of truly remarkable friends amongst my “Play date Moms”. Real, honest to goodness friends who I would like whether they had children or not. It just helps that they have kids because that way we have one more thing in common( partial sanity) and we are in a similar place in our lives, which is always beneficial to a friendship . The other way around being friends only because you both have kids, is sorta like being friends because you both have brown hair or teeth. It’s ridiculous.

    My experience has been not unlike that of my experience with my boyfriend at 15, somebody is crazy for somebody and someone else doesn’t care. You both start out in a relationship all excited about this journey and then about 15 minutes in , you realize that you are truly up a creek without a paddle; only it feels more like you’re in the ocean. One person wants to spend every waking moment together, infiltrating every single facet of your life and the other is running for their life in the opposite direction. It’s like there is no in between, there is no common ground so there is only one thing left to do, break up.
    The word is so dreaded; all the connotations are negative. There is nothing positive about breaking up. It is admitting failure and you know how us women are, we hate that. So, we try to force them to break up with us, after all, we know we want out so they are not really ending it; we are, they just don’t know it. Seldom does that work. We try avoiding them, not returning phone calls, emails, we even simply just don’t show up. But it doesn’t work. You know why? Because she won’t give up either, she doesn’t want to admit failure that she couldn’t make this relationship work. It is a vicious cycle. The children are being drug all over town, why Mommies smile their Vaseline smiles with absolutely no sincere feelings , at all, behind them. Rooms are filled with the buzzing of absolutely nothing of importance being said, mixed with the latest gossip of those who had the misfortune of not attending and it is all thinly veiled as concern. Pish Posh , I say. Finally, some one’s got to be the adult and put an end to this madness. In your most grown up, unbiased, level headedness, you excuse yourself from the group. You simply inform them that though they are wonderful, (they are not for you:) something has come up and it is better to remove yourself from the play date roster. In the end, you are still going out revealed as the ” the truly horrible bitch that you are.” That which you tried to avoid from the get go. So, you see breaking up is sometimes almost impossible to do, even with the best intentions. Who knew breaking up with a group of ladies was going to be harder than breaking up with an obsessed 15 year old boy?

  • How to Survive Potty Training

    How to Survive Potty Training

    How did you go about potty training your little ones?

    Two years ago, I first embarked on this lovely little fact of life, we lovingly refer to as Potty training. It was my first time and I followed the advice of all the parenting books. I constantly , from the age of 18 months, stalked my daughter for any indication that she was ready to start the dreaded Potty training regime.

    So, as soon as I noticed that she 1) absolutely hated her diaper being wet 2) told me that her diaper was wet 3) did not want to wear diapers anymore; I got right on the potty training. So, at first I tried the whole “take her diaper off and let her run around commando”, all that did was let her pee all over my carpet. I thought it was embarrassing the first time I caught myself sniffing her butt in public to see if she pooped, holy guacamole, that was nothing compared to the fact that her urinating on my floor didn’t even phase me. I simply thought to myself, “Yeah, that’s going to have to be shampooed tomorrow!” When did I devolve into this butt sniffing, urinating not caring, vomit and spit up wearing person?

    Anyways, back to the task at hand..”potty training”. Yeah, the peeing on the carpet wasn’t working for either of us. She was wet and irritated, I was annoyed and somewhat grossed out and I felt really bad for her. Next, I tried the “put on some panties and take her to the potty every 15 minutes” approach. All attempts and approaches were coupled with lots and lots of praise, her Dad and I would jump for joy and sing the “Go,Bella! Go, Bella!” song. She loved it and squealed with delight and pride, asking for more, each and every time we did it. This seemed to work and after only a couple of mishaps and near misses, she totally got the hang of it. We were so proud. So, of course, the Diaper fairy had to pay a visit. I stole this gem from Jo Frost of “the Nanny”..but hers was a pacifier Fairy, luckily, we had no need for that Fairy.

    In effect , what happened next was my husband and I had our dear, sweet almost 2 year old put all her “daytime” diapers in a Fed Ex box and mailed them off to the “Diaper Fairy”. Well, that was our story and we are sticking to it. It just so happens that the Diaper Fairy is one of my other alter egos. The next day, the Diaper Fairy sent our girl a Fed Ex box full of goodies for her accomplishment. All was good in our household.

    Baby # 2 was coming in a couple months and baby #1 was on her way to making life, for Mommy, a little easier. What a little rock star she was to me.
    Fast forward 2 months, Baby #2 is here.Life is fantastic.Baby #1 decides that “No, not feeling this potty training stuff. That baby’s not stealing my thunder.” She completely regressed. I knew it was too easy.So, fast forward almost an entire year and finally, it stuck! It was a long haul but totally worth it!It’s always worth it not to have to change diapers or shampoo pee out of the carpet, thank God that we never had the privilege of having to shampoo a “poo” out of the carpet, or she still may have been wearing diapers to this day.
    Now here we are, almost two years later and guess what? Baby #2, that awesome, rock star Gabs, is ready to be trained. But the most amazing thing has happened.Having learned from my previous fiasco and the “Year of the potty”, I have decided that I will just wait until she is ready… really ready . Well, she follows her sister everywhere, to the ends of the earth and that includes to the potty. So, one day she just comes to us, rips off her diaper, “Mamma, potty!” and she takes my hand into her little hand and pulls me to the potty. She sits on the potty and promptly pees. A huge smile, ear to ear, and she is beaming with pride.

    We are shocked and amazed.I was seriously expecting to fall over and pass out from shock. But in true Truthful Mommy fashion, I scream for my husband, who rushes into the bathroom ( probably thinking that one of the girls has fallen in the tub or maimed herself in some horrible accident) only to find me smiling from ear to ear. I point to my little genius on the potty and we immediately break into that old familiar chorus of “Woohoo!Go Gabi!Go, Gabi!” and we clap and tell her how proud of her we are and her sister tells her what a big girl she is. We are ecstatic. The thought of no longer having to buy or use diapers, thrills us all, beyond fathomable belief but it has to be a fluke.

    Then the next day, she does it again, and then so on and so forth. Now, 2 weeks into her doing this on her own and her big sister constantly reminding us, the Diaper Fairy is finally making an appearance at our house again.She’ll be 2 tomorrow and she’s potty trained, all by herself. Oh my God, SHE IS POTTY TRAINED!!! Seriously, there is a silver lining to every cloud. Life is good.Diapers be gone, come again no more!!!

    We survived potty training..TWICE!

  • Waking up Mommy

    The other morning I woke up; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and , by all accounts, it was going to be a beautiful day. I lay there for a moment enjoying the silence.Quiet, the whole house was still. All that I heard was the faint sound of the wind chimes, like the bells from some distant church. Absolutely everything was perfect. Then, from out of nowhere, I get a miniature sized karate chop to the face.It startled me at first, as it does every morning.Then I roll over to see the cherub like visage of my 1 year old, still sleeping. Her light brown hair lay in a ratted jumble, spread out amongst the pillows and she is completely oblivious to the pain in which she has just inflicted. I smile, how could I not at such a face. So, I lay there, still as a mouse, trying to preserve every last moment of the silence. Oh, how I adore my children when they are asleep. They resemble perfect little angels with their perfect milky skin all aglow, their hair tousled in chaotic perfection, as they lie there in complete peacefulness. I am envious and , at the same time, I feel so much love for them that my heart feels as if I can not contain it. I can not leave the bed of my sweet co sleeper, for fear that the moment that my feet hit the ground, the spell will be broken and she will awake. So, I lie there, for what seems like an eternity, waiting for her to awaken on her own. The silence, really is wonderful. I close my eyes and decide to make the best of it. I resign myself to peacefulness and at the very moment that I settle into sleep, the door bursts open and my 4 year old screams “Good morning , Mama!” Waking her sister, breaking the spell, ending the silence, my sunshine has arrived.

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