You Are My Dream Come True

To My Precious Children, 

There was never a time in my entire life that I did not want to be a Mother.  As a little girl, I would daydream with my dolls, or even my first nieces, about being their Mommy, dressing them up and snuggling them close to me.  As a teen, people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, and my answer was without fail, a Mom.  Knowing that I needed a fallback, I went off to college to become a teacher, until of course, I became a Mother.  As a young woman, my heart wondered when my dream of marriage and babies would come true.  Many other people would scoff at the notion that I wanted to be a Mom.  Surely there was more to life than being just a Mom.  Didn't I care about my degree, wealth, a big house, vacations, nights on the town, livin' it up?

Nope.  

Nothing mattered more to me than getting married and having children, because I always believed that God made me for that purpose.  I never once doubted my desires.  And still, at 31 years of age, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was right.  My life has meaning and purpose beyond my titles as Wife and Mother, but this calling, to be your Mother, tops them all.

The day I found out about each of you was a day filled with unquenchable joy.  That God would choose me to be your Mother was entirely humbling.  That He would trust me with your life, both in and outside of the womb, was a bit scary, but again humbling and joyful nonetheless.  

I couldn't (and didn't!) wait to tell everyone about your upcoming arrival.  I couldn't wait until I could hear your heartbeat, feel your fluttery movements, and touch a round belly, knowing you were just on the other side, being formed and growing strong and healthy.

The moment I first laid eyes on you, after the long, hard work of labor was completed, I knew love like I had never known before.  As I held each one of you and caressed your tiny body, as I hushed your crying and brought you to my breast, in me arose such a fierce love...that if ever, ever your life was in jeopardy, for any reason, I would fight to the death to defend you, even if it meant the death of me.  And I would do it without thinking twice.

Because I am your Mother.

Day in and day out, we go about playing, eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, and learning together about how this Mother-Child relationship works.  Some days we nail it!  But, there are other days, days that are long and draining and I wish them to end so that I can rest my weary soul. Even then, on those difficult days, my love for you never fails.  I push forward, I press on, even when it feels like there is nothing left to give.

Because I am your Mother.

As I have the privilege of watching you grow, I want you to know that I can hardly look at you while you're doing what you do, without my eyes getting wet.  I wish that I could stop time in it's tracks, and stay in these moments forever.  

Jak, I watch how you look at the world and wonder what you're thinking about.  You are so intense and full of passion, yet are so sweet that my heart melts on a daily basis when you tell me that you "lub" me.  I stare at you while you stare out the window, taking everything in, not missing a beat.  I watch you while you play, with your long, slender fingers gently putting puzzle pieces together, or while you run your laps with such wonder around the garage, as if every lap is a new one, worthy of the hearty giggle you give when we lock eyes as you round the corner.  As I tuck you in at night and find the "cags" on each of your teddies, I marvel at how much like your Daddy you are.  Everything has to be done like it's always been done, no matter what.  No finding the "cags" before you're "cucked in", I have to wait until all the covers are on before teddies and prayers, otherwise we have to start all over again from the beginning.  And this, I'm now learning, is how you are wired.  And I'm also learning to appreciate it.

John, I think that I underestimated your sweetness when you arrived.  Every day with you brings out more sweetness than I thought possible, and at the same time you are clearly showing me you are all boy with each new discovery you master!  Your round cheeks and toothy grin send me reeling, and I love to run my fingers through your baby-fine, floppy hair.  I can't get enough of your snuggles and your giggles whenever I do something silly.  You truly are the easiest baby around.  I feel as if I didn't savor the precious time with you early on, but instead just tried to survive the days as best I could.  I'm sorry for that.  I wish that I could go back to those days, but I know I can't.  So,  I savor today.  I savor your soft skin and your baby breath and the fact that you still want me more than anything else, except maybe your bottle or Daddy if he's around.  All too soon, you will be taking those first few steps, steps of independence, steps away from me.

It's only been two and a half years since I became a Mother, so I'm still pretty new at this.  Some day, I'll be much older and you'll be adults too, and the majority of my Mothering will be behind me.  You will no longer come to me and ask "Why?", no longer need a kiss on a boo-boo, not need a bottle or to simply ask me for some fishies. There will be no tiny arms squeezing my neck or tired boys sitting on my lap at the end of a day to read books.  I cry even now, writing this, but I know this is the plan.  It's always been the plan.  You are not mine.  You are only on loan.  I have to keep reminding myself this.  

But I, I am your Mother.  And will always be.

Thank You for making me what I've always wanted to be:  

Your Mother.

"Where did I come from?" the baby asked its mother. She answered, half-crying, half-laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast, "You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood games. In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother, and in her mother before her, you have lived. In the lap of the eternal spirit you have been nursed and nurtured for ages."
-Indian philosopher and poet, Rabindrandth Tagore

The Boys

Just wanted to give a brief update of our lives, since I've been slacking on their stats lately!

We'll start with John this time.

John is still a sweet little bundle of joy most all the time. He cries when his big brother messes with him, or when he's hungry and I'm taking too long to get his food to his mouth. That's about it. Well, that, and the occasional fall backwards will set him off. He's generally a happy little guy. He still loves to snuggle and cuddle, which makes many a heart happy here in WNY. Most little guys at 8 months old want to do anything BUT cuddle, so he gets scooped up a lot for a quick snuggle from random people. We don't mind.

Those random people usually give him back after a few minutes because this little snuggler is also a little chunker! I weighed him randomly on my scale yesterday and it read 25 pounds! My scale is also very accurate, mind you. So, he snuggles and I get some serious arm workouts. Not a bad deal.

John has weaned from the breast, which is sad for me. Sad because I know that had I kept up with my fluid intake, he'd still be nursing. This kid loves to suck. He'll take a bottle over food any day. I love to nurse, and don't mind nursing my babies for as long as they want. I had hoped to go longer with John than I did with Jak, and I met that goal by one month. 8 months is not bad, but I just know how beneficial it is for both he and I, and I love the time with just him and I alone. I wrestle a bit with guilt about not drinking enough and therefore not having enough milk for him right now, but then God (gently) slaps me in the face and tells me to move on, in so many words. So I do. Until the next twinge of guilt rears its' ugly head. It's showing up less and less these days, so I must be making some progress.

As far as food goes, he is eating most things except the famed Chicken & Stars jarred dinner. He HATES that stuff. I don't blame him. His favorite things are, aside from milk, fruits and chicken. He seems to be a more picky eater than his bro, but I do think in time he'll round himself out. He's just started to chew well, so he's getting some puffs and cereal bits here and there, along with bread and whatever else is soft that we're eating around here. I love to cook for my family, and making baby food is no exception. In fact, next week I'll have a short tutorial for WFMW, so stay tuned!

Because John wasn't doing so well with textures, I haven't made him anything other than applesauce, until this week. Yesterday, I made some peaches, pears and will do some chicken in the next day or two. I'm eager to see how he likes the chicken. Jak loved it and so I'd usually put it in most of his fruits or veggies to get some protein in him. I'm hoping to do the same for John.

My boy isn't so fond of the sippy cup, and you can see why in a few paragraphs before this. He just loves to suck. Sipping just isn't the same. We're working on it.

At 8 months, John-boy is just about ready to crawl. He desperately tries to pull himself up on things, but has yet to be successful in that regard. He is so heavy, and I think it'll be a while before he can support his weight on his arms alone (as he pulls up to standing). He is scootching backwards and we end up finding him in lots of weird places because of this. He'll scootch under the table or in between chair legs, or under the chairs, and then whines because he can't move and doesn't know how to get out! He'll rock on all fours but hasn't figured out yet how to move those arms and legs at the same time. It'll come. We aren't worried, and we certainly aren't in a rush. We know the work that lies ahead, once they become mobile!!!

I do think that he'd be moving all over the place by now if we'd have let him down on the floor more. Jak is not always aware of John's presence, let alone nice when he is aware, so we've kept the baby up more often than not. And speaking of Jak...well, he and John are best friends. Just ask him! It's the cutest thing when he says, "Gon-boy is my best friennn!!! And once Jak stops squeezing John's cheeks (wonder where he learned that from?!), I'm sure John will agree.

Overall, my baby boy is just a happy little guy. Very content. Very consistent. Very, very cute.

On to Jak:

The little conversationalist that I spend my days with is quite a cheeky little guy. Each day brings something new, and it usually starts with jumping. As he screams for us to come and get him (he refuses to just ASK for Mom or Dad rather than scream), I open the door, and the screaming stops. He says, "Hi Mom. I all done seepin'." I proceed to kiss him, smooth over his silky hair, turn off the sound machine and open the shade, all while he jumps away in his crib. Then, we head to John's room to say Good Morning, and change diapers. Jak usually jumps his way there.

Once diaper duty is done, Jak jumps to the kitchen or living room to start his day. While I make breakfast, the jumping continues on either the couch or the bed, and after a scolding, the jumping resumes on the living room floor, complete with a "I JUMPIN' MOM!" from my little man. Yes, buddy, you are jumpin'...

He loves to eat lately, and will pound away the same size portion that I have, if not more. Growth spurt? Maybe he's trying to ensure that his little brother doesn't surpass him any time soon. His favorites remain: corn, peas, couscous, steak, pretzels and hummus. Let's not forget water. Unlike his Momma, but much like his DaDa, The boy can drink.

We are working on potty training these days and though it's one of those parts of parenting that I thoroughly dislike, I know the end result is coming soon so I keep pressing on. One in diapers will be really nice!

My Jak-man amazes me each day with the words he says and things that he talks about. I wish that I could video each moment with him, to remember it all...he is just so precious. I love every stage and am especially keen on the baby stages, but I'll tell ya, this 2 year old gig is great, except for the tantrums and not listening part, of course.

Jak is so full of wonder and excitement for every little thing, and it's contagious. I never before got so excited to throw laundry down the chute, or throw a ball into a basket!

My heart is truly walking around in the form of a two year old boy, not to mention another chubby-bubby rolling around leaving drool puddles everywhere, and I'm certain that I'll never get it back. And that's OK. I wouldn't want it any. other. way.

Pat-A-Cake