Celebrating the old days and a dear friend

I will be 40 years old this year.....yikes....40 years old and at times I do feel 40.......or older. 😞 Where did the time go?  I swear i feel like I was just 20 something yesterday. There are times that I could be laughing with friends, family or my husband and I don't feel old. In fact, I feel like back in college I never thought of losing anyone to death, it felt like we were all eternal, like all of us and our loved ones would live forever. In the last few months friends of mine sadly have lost a parent. It hit home, these friends are my age and they lost a parent. Made me think about my own and how as I'm getting older sadly so are they. It showed me to treasure my parents soo much while they are here. 

Then, my neighbor died. She was like family....no she was family. She met me when I was 28 years old, recently married and full of dreams. She watched my husband and I create our home and watch each of our children slowly come into our lives. She saw us in so many different stages, the happiness, the exhaustion, the times we weren't getting along and the times where we were so full of love. She watched it all ......and now.....she is gone. Another loved one who we never actually thought would leave us. 

Last week, I got the news that a dear dear friend passed away at the age of 43. Max was full of life and always had a smile. I met him in college. When I lived off campus, he lived down the street from me with a group of great guys. It was amazing having them. I would always find myself walking down the street to go see them. They welcome me in all the time. They always made it feel like home and he always made me feel special. He and another guy nickname me "mostly cloudy" because .......I was in the clouds in college for sure. I was young and naive and that was OK for them.  I will surely miss him. The day before he died, on Facebook a group of us reminisce about the good old days and how we wish we could just go back and relive it for just a little bit.  He said he would and I wish we all could...to see that big smile of his again. 

All of us from those days made a cheer for him today through Facebook. Posting pictures of an alcoholic drink that we were having in his honor. Made me think about how life is going so fast and that death....is closer. But this time instead of fearing it, instead of pretending it's not there I will embrace it because after all it's inevitable. I will live to the fullest even when my kids are driving me crazy, even when life seems so hard, even when I feel like giving up...I will live. My boys are in their schools talent show and the song they are singing is called " I lived". Perfect anthem for me now. 

So here is to Max...my neighbor Pat and my dear friends mom and dad. 

Cheers!!!!

The missing Pokemon!!!

He was kicking, waving his arms, tears rolling down, screaming in language I barely understood,  every now and then I heard "I want it.....it's not fair.....I want it....it's mine.." That was my Noah having a tantrum in our car. I had just picked him and Milah up from my dads after work. Noah had lost his Pokemon card and the world was about to end, for that Pokemon card amongst the thousand that he had was the most valuable ......it was his lifeline. My dad tried to find it but no trace of it. Exhausted from work I buckled him in as his arms were like Edward Scissorhands. My dad buckled Milah in for me. I waved goodbye to my dad and he said "good luck". It was only twenty minutes to get home but the longest twenty minutes ever. My journey would be hard. No munchkins or happy meal was going to fix this. Noah began kindergarten this week so maybe the exhaustion from that set him off. It set up the tantrums of all tantrums....he was a Maniac. 

He screamed the whole way. I calmly tried to explain to him that the Pokemon will be found, he will survive and life will go on. He didn't listen, he screamed, kicked, kept saying incoherent things. Milah like mommy calmly said to Noah "it's OK, OK......nice nice" but after ten minutes she was saying incoherent things pointing her finger at him as if saying "stop it you crazy boy, it's just a card". But he kept screaming, I kept driving, Milah kept pointing her finger.

How would I survive this?  Then I tried to think of a happy place, a happy time...."Fat Cats". Fat Cats was a local college bar when I was in college. Some of my best memories were from there. It was your typical college bar, nothing fancy but it was my sororitys hang out place. I danced a lot there, a lot and dancing always made me feel happy. I imagined myself dancing, really letting loose, shaking everything, feeling the music.....I saw myself as the girl in "flash dance" jumping from one side of the dance floor to the other, i was wearing her same outfit and didn't feel weird at all wearing that to the bar (I was also 20 pounds lighter and had loads of energy)  I was a maniac....feeling the music run through my body....I was Kevin Bacon jumping around in the scene of "footloose" swinging from one swing to the other, jumping on cars...... I felt relaxed and I smiled, I heard the screams so far away......

Then the phone rang, it was my dad "THE POKEMON HAD BEEN FOUND!!!!"  Noah stopped crying and fell asleep as we were just turning the corner to the house. I pulled in the driveway and noticed Milah was also passed out. She must have been "the hell with this boy I'm taking a nap". 

I sat in the driveway contemplating what to do. Do I go ahead and face the inevitable tantrum that would happen again when I would wake them up or do I enjoy the silence....I decided to write this blog and all was right in the world....kids were sleeping, I was smiling and the POKEMON had been found. ☺️

You were right!!

Dear Mother of Three,

I have so much to tell you I don't know where to begin. For starters I want to apologize for my behavior in the last year and a little before that when I was pregnant with my third child. I was "miss know it all". I should have known better. In fact, I realize now I knew nothing. Nothing on what kind of woman it takes to be a mother of three. 

Some women decide that kids are not for them, others know that one or two kids is their limit. They know that having more than that will send them right to the crazy farm.  

I.....knew that I wanted three. After I had Lucas I knew that two more would complete me....would complete my life. After getting pregnant with Milah I felt whole. As if everything had led me to that moment....watching the boys holding their baby sister brought me to a place of serenity or complete tranquility. Nothing was going to bring me down from that cloud.....but I came down...hard.....like a sack of potatoes exploding all over a beautiful cleaned floor. 

You were honest with me, you told me how it was. I remember you telling me that the third child completely stole your patience, that it has never come back. 

You told me those bad words that you always promise would never be part of your life has increased with every child. 

You warned me that it will not be easy and no one will help. That all will judge you and those few out there (usually mothers and fathers of three or more) will salute you. 

You begged me to believe you, because my life will never be the same. 

YOU WERE RIGHT!!!!!

I didn't want to listen. I thought you were bitter, worn out. That maybe you needed to breathe more air and pray more. That maybe you weren't  trying hard enough. Most of all I thought I would never be unhappy because God gave me my three beautiful children. I yearn to hear heir laughters. I could see all five of us playing games with our nice puppy sleeping right by us. A perfect perfect life. 

I WAS WRONG!!!!

This life is tougher than I thought. 

My eight year old has become the kid that gets bullied. He doesn't stand up for himself with other kids but yet has no problem talking back to me. He no longer wants kisses at the bus stop. He says he is too old for them.  I have to give him a kiss inside the house behind close doors and blinds down. No one must know that he actually loves his mother. 

My second, Noah didn't have terrible two's, he skipped over that but now at five he has found his voice, how high and firm his voice goes as well and is tired of being the little brother and is standing his ground. After all, as he likes to say "I'm a big boy.....I'm going to kindergarten".  

My Milah is 16 months and somehow in the midst of all the happiness of having three kids I forgot what a 16 month old does. Miss Milah has found her voice like her big brother did, she found she likes it to go high and the terrible two's has begun, a few months early. She is now mobile and is into everything. She likes to climb things take everything out of cabinets and steal toys from everyone including ginger. 

To the average parent all these stages are normal but when you add them all up happening at the same time in the same household it's a disaster. 

My life is as chaotic as you said it would be. There are times that I am somewhere like the checkout line at the food store when I actually get to stand still for a second and I glance at the kids nails. OMG!!!! Where has their mother gone.....that horrible mother has not cut her kids nails for weeks, months even. They are crazy long....then I realize I'm their mother and I am to blame. Slowly I try to cover those bad boys. Thank God Noah bites his nails. Never thought i would see that as a good thing. Seriously, kids nails grow like chia pets. I blink and they are long. 

Then I look at their hair, holy mother of Jesus. Did I brush their hair? Did I brush their teeth?  When is the last time I cut their hair? Should I use spit to 

control that hair. I take out water from their water bottle and try to bring some control to that monstrosity. 

I always said I would make the kids pray at night but sometimes after the fiasco of bedtime is over I just want to go to bed myself. We are constantly apologizing to God. "Sorry God we will pray tomorrow, we are too tired, love you God". We owe him a lot of prayers. 

And play dates. You said I would hate them. I do!!  Trying to fit in these play dates for three kids is Terrible. I cringe when someone asks for a play date. After play dates I'm exhausted and my kids have more energy than ever. 

No wonder you go shopping every week. These kids are nuts, I have to get three gallons of milk a week for these kids. Constantly shopping for food. And going to the store with the three kids.....I get saluted, praised by some. One man said "I salute you....you are a remarkable". He made my day. Whether he meant or not it meant a lot that Someone noticed that being there with three kids was not where I wanted to be or chose to be but these damn kids need to eat. 

My swearing has increased as well. I say them under my breath but every now and then they pop out. The kids just smile and say "potty word mommy, say sorry". That they hear but when I'm yelling to come and eat they can't hear. 

Fabios time in the bathroom has increased and it's very common that he says his stomach hurts. " I must have gotten food poisoning". Food poisoning my a_ _. I have caught on to those tricks. 

My only escape are showers. I tell them somebody be dying or dead to be disturbed when I am taking a shower. 

The wonderful board games I envisioned are filled with Noah screaming that Lucas is cheating. Lucas running to his room slamming the door upset that he has been accused of something so horrible but at the end being so very true. Noah crying. Milah trying to eat the small pieces of the game and Ginger trying to eat whatever pieces Milah couldn't eat. It's fun!!!  Good times!!!

You were right on it all....even the good parts.  I hear and love their laughters in the house. I love watching them be sweet to each other and love our dog Ginger. I love that their mine.  I love that Fabio and I created this crazy life together.  I was meant to be a mother of three and so were you. 

Sincerely, your crazy friend, mother of three.