More on Jackson

Okay, so I feel a bit guilty about doing another post on Jackson. I do love my other kids, really I do. It's just that he has been saying some pretty funny things and I can't help myself.

Jackson: Mom, when I wear my coat it feels like summer.

Jackson: (While I am combing his hair one morning) It feels like you are my servant.

Me: No, I am your Mom.

Jackson: But I feel like a King.

Me: Maybe I am doing to many things for you?

Jackson: (Impish grin and won't look me in the eye)

Jackson: Mom, I am in love with Margo. (A girl in his Kindergarten class.)

Me: WHAAAT? WHY? (This is the first time I have heard anything like this out of his mouth.)

Jackson: She is very pretty--she has CHUBBY cheeks! I think I want to marry her when I grow up. I am in love with her.

Me: (trying to salvage this train wreck) Um, maybe you mean that you like her and you are really good friends? Maybe you love her as a friend.

Jackson: No. Mom, I am IN LOVE with her. (He grins from ear to ear and cheerfully runs off to play.)

Me: (under my breath) Crap.

In Jackson's prayer last night, he mentioned he was grateful for recycling and skin.

I love this goofy, sweet, crazy kid. He certainly keeps me on my toes and makes me laugh.

The dichotomy of Motherhood.

The other night, I was laying in bed thinking about the day and I couldn't help but giggle about two moments that I had with Jackson that perfectly capture my experience with motherhood.

Scene #1: Jackson rushes in from playing outdoors. He hollers, "Mom, don't look at me!" I, of course, immediately picture him covered in mud with only his blue eye-balls peering out of the big brown glob that used to be my son. I am upstairs and so I yell back, "Why?" He answers,"Because, you don't want to look at me, Mom!" I sigh as his answer is not particularly descriptive and gear myself up for the second scenario I have imagined. What's worse than mud? Permanent Marker! I imagine his sweet little face with a villain-esque moustache or worse, a goatee like his dad! I am practically running to him by this time thinking it best to arrive on the scene and control the damage. And that's when I see him, his hands covering his forehead and tears threatening. He didn't want me to see the enormous bump on his head because he knew that I would as he put it "freak out." I tried to keep my "freak" to a minimum and quickly got him some ice. He explained that he got beaned in the head on the trampoline by the rock his friend kept in his pocket. Ouch!

Jackson wanted to spare my feelings. He intuitively knew that I would be hurt by his being hurt. His sweetness felt like an earthquake to my heart. How I love him!

(This picture was taken per Jackson's request. Apparently, once the pain wears off, it's pretty cool to have a gigantic lump on your head.)

Scene#2-(2 hours later) A white, smelly bottom with bits of dried poo stuck to it. I was alerted to the problem by his sister Ella who could not stand to be around the stench. Ostensibly, intuition does not teach you how to properly wipe your bottom. And so, I found myself a few hours after the above incident with a baby wipe in hand, demonstrating to my five year-old how it is done. All the mushy feelings I had towards Jackson earlier were hiding in the recesses of my heart, while I explained how you should keep wiping until the toilet paper comes back clean.

And there you have it folks, motherhood in all its sweetness and its poo. Like I said, "Perfect."

Oh, by the way...

Doesn't it feel cozy now that it's just us?

Valentine's Day Feast or How to gain 5 pounds in one day!

Katie made us some fabulous, hand drawings to get us in a celebratory mood. Sadly, she spent most of the day sick after a lovely night with the stomach flu, fever, chills and body aches. But with a little Tylenol she was able to muster up enough enthusiasm to share her drawing talents with us.
Ella was enchanted with my candy heart table decorations. "You can eat them," she was overheard exclaiming. Thank goodness, I was channeling Martha Stewart that day.
Grilled Lobster tails were the main event at our Valentine fete. (I had to tell Jackson that swords were not allowed at the table before and after the picture! He had trouble grasping the concept. Why shouldn't a 5 year-old be allowed to eat with his sword at the table? Well, for one look at the picture. He looks positively devilish.)
My very first (probably last) red velvet cake. A bottle and a half of red food coloring and a pound of butter, in case you were wondering. (Yikes!)
Robert surprised me with red roses. I fainted dead away and had to be revived with smelling salts. Just kidding. Oh, but sometimes that man can charm me! :)

Going Private

I've been thinking about this for a long time and I've decided to go private. If you would like me to send you an invite leave your email address in the comments. Thanks.

Important Questions

Ever since Max could say "mama" and "dada," I've asked him this important question: "Who loves you?" Obviously the answer that I am going for is "Mommy." I feel that there must be some reward for the poop-filled diapers, sticky windows, misplaced toys, broken electronics and melted crayons. For a while now, when I would ask him he would say, "Daddy" and then giggle like crazy. He knew what I was wanting and thought it was hilarious to deny me. Today we are back to "Mommy" and I am quite pleased. Maybe he felt guilty about the brick he dropped in his pants today while we were shopping?

P.S. I just literally licked my plate. How old am I? Seriously.

Ella

Yesterday, I took Ella down to Sunrise Hospital to see her pediatric cardiologist. It was a check-up to make sure there wasn't any heart damage from her infamous bout with Rheumatic fever. She is fine much to my relief and hers. She wasn't worried about heart problems though, she was more concerned about getting "poked with a needle." Walking out of the Dr.'s office, with her hand in mine and the good news in my heart, I felt profoundly grateful for her little self. Sunrise Hospital is where I spent the worse week of my life. I was pregnant with Ella and the sickest I've ever been. Ella was not doing well. In fact, the neonatologist told me that I needed to have an emergency c-section one night or my baby wouldn't survive. (He was a charmer.) That news was absolutely devastating to me.

Kate's birth 16 months earlier had been difficult and filled with medical problems for both of us. Kate was not a happy baby. She was colicky and I was convinced she was always in pain. She was constantly sick and miserable. I don't know if I can fully explain how this made me feel. I felt guilt over her birth. Guilt that I couldn't breast feed her and that combined with a gigantic lack of sleep made my feelings overwhelming and haunting. I knew that I did not want to do that again. I wanted so much to give this new baby (Ella) a good start in life.

I prayed and prayed for her and for me. I thought about the blessing Robert had given me before he had left for NYC. I was able to decision influenced by the Lord it gave me strength to tell the Doctor that I was not having my baby that night. He told me all sorts of horrible things. It was weird because I heard the words but they had no affect on my feelings. It was if I was wrapped a couple of times in bubble wrap and protected from his words. I knew the decision I made was the right one.

And walking out of that building with Ella, hand in hand, discussing the type of treat she was entitled to after her "ordeal"--All those feelings came together for me again and I wanted to drop to my knees right there and thank the Lord for the blessing of my Ella.

And on a completely random, tone changing side note, here are a couple of things Ella has said lately:

Me: You kids stop your fighting. In fact, I don't want you to even talk right now. Your driving me crazy. (I was trying to get us packed and out of our hotel room)

Ella: But Mom, I am trying to work this out in a good way.

I listened for a minute, and she was! I stand rebuked.

She was funny at the baptism meeting the other night. They were talking about forgiveness and the answer to the question she was asked was clearly "forgive". Instead of giving the typical, memorized answer, she thought about it for a while (an uncomfortable while, I was sure I was going to have to whisper the answer in her ear and all the parents would think that I do not teach my children anything!) and replied to the scenario given that she would explain how she felt to this person, ask them not to do it again and then try to forgive them. She is so funny.

I love you Ella-beans!