I know most of my friends have more than two children, but some have none and some have one just like we used to. Lately, I've been thinking about the status of being the oldest child. I am not the oldest child, but I have one who plays one on tv. She is actually, a really great kid and we can't complain about having her around in the least. I do wonder sometimes though if she feels like she is getting the raw end of the deal for being the oldest kid. Laney is 7 now and while she still enjoys hugs and cuddle time, she wants to do it on her own schedule and not when we feel like doling out the love. Babies are trapped. They have to let you hold them and kiss them all over, and the best part is they don't know any different.
So usually when I get home from work, I walk upstairs to greet the family. Laney looks up at me and smiles, and returns to her tv/toy/project. Lindsay squeal, and comes racing (well, army crawling as fast as she can) over to me with the most excited grin on her little face. She is downright beside herself to see me and thinks there is nothing better in the world than mommy getting home. So I have what I would consider a natural reaction, and laugh, smile and pick her up and kiss her little face and head all over. After a couple of minutes of this, I tell myself to stop, and then I make a concentrated effort to be smiley and lively and kissy to Laney. She doesn't usually let me kiss her too much, but she does a little. I know as the kids grow up they cool when it comes to displays of affection (I remember doing it to my parents), but I have this great fear that Laney will see us being so excited and animated with Lindsay that she'll one day think Lindsay has all of our love.
We tell her in words and are sure to be excited to see her too, but you know how people are about babies. She says her grandparents like Lindsay better, but I've never heard her ask if we love Lindsay better. Maybe we are doing something right, but do any of you other parents out there wonder if some of your kids feel your love, and some don't? Or do you wonder if some kids are jealous of the others? You know, like thinking you have a favorite?
Monday, November 8, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
I Heart Bed Time!
So this is another one of those guilty pleasures I have...I heart bed time. And by bed time, I mean not only my bed time, but the girls' bed time most especially. I think it has something to do with the following facts:
1) While the kids are in bed, I will not hear a whiny version of "Mooommmmmmmy..."
2) I will not have to say "Eat your dinner" for the 45th time straight, only to have Arlin get a little crazy look because he's so tired of hearing me say "Eat your dinner", and Laney apparently has not realized I was even talking to her
3) While the kids are in bed, I will not have to worry about who put what in their mouth or any other orafice
4) I will not have to think of ways to creatively entertain anyone while I make the dinner I know they will not eat, at least without the aforementioned 45 reminders to "Eat your dinner"
5) After bedtime, I will not have to to remember to get anyone a drink, to make sure anyone finished their homework, to see if anyone has crawled into the no-touch zone near any plugs/appliances/toilets/etc.
6) And after bed time, and falling asleep of course, they just look so dang innocent and cute I can't help but go into their rooms to look at their sweet faces and little hands and feet, and kiss them a bajillion times so I can remember how they are growing up so fast
7) MOST OF ALL, after bed time, I go by the name Brandy AND I can do whatever I want!!*
*Disclaimer: If by whatever I want equals doing the dishes, folding the last of the laundry, packing lunch for school the next day, hanging up clothes I've thrown on the floor during my haste when coming home from work, paying bills, doing paperwork for the hair salon OR cuddling with Arlin and watching a tv or movie or reading while taking a hot bath before I fall asleep in the tub from exhaustion. Because while the kids go to bed at 7 and 8 pm, I'm so tired I follow them well before midnight usually. Makes me feel a little old indeed!
1) While the kids are in bed, I will not hear a whiny version of "Mooommmmmmmy..."
2) I will not have to say "Eat your dinner" for the 45th time straight, only to have Arlin get a little crazy look because he's so tired of hearing me say "Eat your dinner", and Laney apparently has not realized I was even talking to her
3) While the kids are in bed, I will not have to worry about who put what in their mouth or any other orafice
4) I will not have to think of ways to creatively entertain anyone while I make the dinner I know they will not eat, at least without the aforementioned 45 reminders to "Eat your dinner"
5) After bedtime, I will not have to to remember to get anyone a drink, to make sure anyone finished their homework, to see if anyone has crawled into the no-touch zone near any plugs/appliances/toilets/etc.
6) And after bed time, and falling asleep of course, they just look so dang innocent and cute I can't help but go into their rooms to look at their sweet faces and little hands and feet, and kiss them a bajillion times so I can remember how they are growing up so fast
7) MOST OF ALL, after bed time, I go by the name Brandy AND I can do whatever I want!!*
*Disclaimer: If by whatever I want equals doing the dishes, folding the last of the laundry, packing lunch for school the next day, hanging up clothes I've thrown on the floor during my haste when coming home from work, paying bills, doing paperwork for the hair salon OR cuddling with Arlin and watching a tv or movie or reading while taking a hot bath before I fall asleep in the tub from exhaustion. Because while the kids go to bed at 7 and 8 pm, I'm so tired I follow them well before midnight usually. Makes me feel a little old indeed!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Blog Picture
I love this picture. The one where Laney is watching Lindsay with love and where Lindsay is staring, just staring at Laney with wonder and curiosity and love too. These sisters love each other so much. I think that is the best part of the whole...their feelings for each other. They love to play together, take baths together, eat together, and Laney gets upset if she misses a night kissing Lindsay before she is put to bed. I pray they always have that.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Thoughts of a Guilty Conscience
So I have a lot of things I've been thinking about lately, and I thought I would share. I've realized I actually enjoy things I'm not supposed to, or that society dictates is in appropriate. I'm going to share these things one at a time over the course of this blog and I hope you don't stone me if you see me in the streets...
VOL 1
I'm a working mother, and in polite company I say that's not by choice, or even by chance, but as a result of family financial necessity. I reality, if you were my BFF and we were drinking some tasty hot chocolate and eating donuts together, I'd tell you it's slightly by choice and a little by a personal need to feel intelligent and like someone other than "Mom". While I don't relish being away from home a lot (read 50 - 70 hours a week), I do actually enjoy working. I enjoy the challenge of a job that requires me to juggle my separate lives, to coordinate more than the legos and dinner time, more than alphabetizing my DVD collection or color and seasonally sorting my clothes closet. I feel so guilty about this enjoyment of "work" though - isn't work supposed to be this awful thing where I'm the donkey and my boss is this angry short person who rides in the cart I haul around all day? I'm supposed to want to stay home and "sleep in", play with my kids and do nothing but watch Oprah right? I actually enjoy the projects and the days, I feel more productive and like I use at least 50% more of my brain.
I have news for you working thinkers of what staying home means -- it is not always that fun. You wake up early so your spouse, who works at a "real" job (my thoughts not his), can sleep that last few minutes before the alarm. You get up with a the babies and the kids, fix them breakfast and listen to endless rounds of "I don't like ______", "Why can't we have ______?", "I don't want to go to school today", "I don't know where my homework is", "Why can't I wear this to school?", etc., etc., etc. You are the world's master negotiator for your house, determining what to battle, what to let go, what to pretend you don't see, and what to talk to your spouse about later because you're stumped. You continue through your day with a list of chores (inside and outside), a list of broken things to fix, and meals to create during the in-between "down" time. You hug the hurt, you punish the naughty, you coordiante the activities of all, and some how you are expected to know where everyone has dropped every item in their possession so you can find it when they want it. You also get to experience some of the great moments: a first step, a first word, sucessful shoe tying, potty training victories, angelic faces during naps, learning how to eat ice cream cones, first line of report for great days at school, a first boyfriend, etc. There are some great moments in there during all that laundry and cleaning and cooking, right?! And while I really love those moments and miss them when I don't see them, that's what they still are to me -- small moments of victory. Small moments of endless joy. I'm not so good at abiding my time waiting for a moment or a highlight (you could say I have a short memory).
So I go to work, out of necessity, out of a small personal need to be recognized for my small successes. A need to see my work in the bright lights, and to bask in my co-workers awe (humor me here). And I feel guilty, I do. I'm not wishing away their childhood, I'm not. I really do LOVE the smiles, the cuddles, the innoncent questions, the simple challenges that don't involve dating or drugs or illegal activities. Don't hate me because I can't stand endless laundry or diaper changes with a wiggley twenty pound baby. Don't hate me because I feel like my surrogate dad who told me once that he liked his kids better after they hit their late teens because at that age he could talk in conversations with them. Don't hate me because sometimes I have a need to be known only as "Brandy" and not just "Mom".
VOL 1
I'm a working mother, and in polite company I say that's not by choice, or even by chance, but as a result of family financial necessity. I reality, if you were my BFF and we were drinking some tasty hot chocolate and eating donuts together, I'd tell you it's slightly by choice and a little by a personal need to feel intelligent and like someone other than "Mom". While I don't relish being away from home a lot (read 50 - 70 hours a week), I do actually enjoy working. I enjoy the challenge of a job that requires me to juggle my separate lives, to coordinate more than the legos and dinner time, more than alphabetizing my DVD collection or color and seasonally sorting my clothes closet. I feel so guilty about this enjoyment of "work" though - isn't work supposed to be this awful thing where I'm the donkey and my boss is this angry short person who rides in the cart I haul around all day? I'm supposed to want to stay home and "sleep in", play with my kids and do nothing but watch Oprah right? I actually enjoy the projects and the days, I feel more productive and like I use at least 50% more of my brain.
I have news for you working thinkers of what staying home means -- it is not always that fun. You wake up early so your spouse, who works at a "real" job (my thoughts not his), can sleep that last few minutes before the alarm. You get up with a the babies and the kids, fix them breakfast and listen to endless rounds of "I don't like ______", "Why can't we have ______?", "I don't want to go to school today", "I don't know where my homework is", "Why can't I wear this to school?", etc., etc., etc. You are the world's master negotiator for your house, determining what to battle, what to let go, what to pretend you don't see, and what to talk to your spouse about later because you're stumped. You continue through your day with a list of chores (inside and outside), a list of broken things to fix, and meals to create during the in-between "down" time. You hug the hurt, you punish the naughty, you coordiante the activities of all, and some how you are expected to know where everyone has dropped every item in their possession so you can find it when they want it. You also get to experience some of the great moments: a first step, a first word, sucessful shoe tying, potty training victories, angelic faces during naps, learning how to eat ice cream cones, first line of report for great days at school, a first boyfriend, etc. There are some great moments in there during all that laundry and cleaning and cooking, right?! And while I really love those moments and miss them when I don't see them, that's what they still are to me -- small moments of victory. Small moments of endless joy. I'm not so good at abiding my time waiting for a moment or a highlight (you could say I have a short memory).
So I go to work, out of necessity, out of a small personal need to be recognized for my small successes. A need to see my work in the bright lights, and to bask in my co-workers awe (humor me here). And I feel guilty, I do. I'm not wishing away their childhood, I'm not. I really do LOVE the smiles, the cuddles, the innoncent questions, the simple challenges that don't involve dating or drugs or illegal activities. Don't hate me because I can't stand endless laundry or diaper changes with a wiggley twenty pound baby. Don't hate me because I feel like my surrogate dad who told me once that he liked his kids better after they hit their late teens because at that age he could talk in conversations with them. Don't hate me because sometimes I have a need to be known only as "Brandy" and not just "Mom".
Monday, June 28, 2010
Ha Ha Ha ... Not
So yesterday (I think it was yesterday), I asked Laney if she knew all of Lindsay's name. Meaning, did she remember Lindsay's middle name. This was a significant question because Laney is very proud of knowing all of her name and she thinks her name is beautiful and just the best thing EVER. I wanted to know how she felt about Lindsay's name, to see if it her feelings were the same.
AND then,
Laney says to me, "No". So I tell her all of Lindsay's name is Lindsay Anne K.
AND then,
Laney says to me, "Why is it Lindsay Anne K.? That doesn't make any sense. Her name should be Lindsay Elizabeth K. Like mine is Laney Elizabeth K. That would have been better. And then we could have been twins"
AND then,
I sighed. Because you know what, I wanted Lindsay's name to be Lindsay Anne K., so there would be part of Taylor's name carried on in the family. And Arlin wanted Lindsay Elizabeth because he thought that was the only thing that made any sense. But, he deferred to my decision and since I fill out the forms, or in this case was there to tell the nurse what to put on the form (after making her leave and come back an hour later so I could decide), I chose Lindsay Anne. Well, now we all can see what a bad decision that was since half the family has already told me how it doesn't make any sense at all, and we should have gone with the Lindsay Elizabeth.
Sigh. At least Lindsay's not old enough to vote, so only half the family thinks I picked the wrong name...
AND then,
Laney says to me, "No". So I tell her all of Lindsay's name is Lindsay Anne K.
AND then,
Laney says to me, "Why is it Lindsay Anne K.? That doesn't make any sense. Her name should be Lindsay Elizabeth K. Like mine is Laney Elizabeth K. That would have been better. And then we could have been twins"
AND then,
I sighed. Because you know what, I wanted Lindsay's name to be Lindsay Anne K., so there would be part of Taylor's name carried on in the family. And Arlin wanted Lindsay Elizabeth because he thought that was the only thing that made any sense. But, he deferred to my decision and since I fill out the forms, or in this case was there to tell the nurse what to put on the form (after making her leave and come back an hour later so I could decide), I chose Lindsay Anne. Well, now we all can see what a bad decision that was since half the family has already told me how it doesn't make any sense at all, and we should have gone with the Lindsay Elizabeth.
Sigh. At least Lindsay's not old enough to vote, so only half the family thinks I picked the wrong name...
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Moving Prep
Here it is time to move and I've been busy, sorting, gathering, trashing, selling, and donating. I've gathered the majority of our things in the basement storage room
I'm now moving furniture to common areas so it will be easier to load the truck. My dad is going to help us this time so the move will be A LOT cheaper. Gas money really. No moving van to rent. What a dad!
I think we're just about ready to go. We're back to living out of boxes in a temorary home, but I'm so grateful and excited to be returning to my home and to have the chance to set it up and resume life. Lindsay's never been to Texas and I know she's going to love it. Laney's pretty excited and Arlin and I are too. Next item on the agenda is to land our employment. We're working on that too. Millions of resumes out, a phone interview down and hopefully two face to face interviews for me next week. We're praying for both me and Arlin to get the things we need going and we're excited the Lord is watching over us still. We certainly couldn't make this crazy life work any other way!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Our Happy Girl
Lindsay is the happiest baby I have ever met. EVER. She has a lot of her dad in her. She's never met a stranger, and she makes you feel like a million bucks. We're lucky to have her, and so lucky she's in our family.
She's also a smart cookie and has lately been studying the bars on her crib to figure a way out. This concerns me as Laney figured out how to jump out of the crib at 18 months. I hope Lindsay doesn't follow in her sister's footsteps with that. Have you ever tried to get an 18 month old to stay in a toddler bed? They don't...
And finally a very recent picture of me and Arlin. Actually this was his idea, and I'm happy he thought of it. There's not many photos where we're both together. I can't believe it's been 8 years since we've been married. That makes me feel a little old ...
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