The Last First Time

It was five minutes until time to leave, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to find them. I reached up on a high shelf and dug my hand deep into the wicker basket. Winter gloves, a pink scarf, and finally - two tiny pairs of shin guards.

I picked the pair with the least amount of wear and tear and put the basket back on the shelf. I walked over to where four-year-old Edgie was waiting patiently but for swinging his bare legs.

"Here you go," I said, putting the guards in place over his tiny little shins. I pulled some white socks over them and tied the cleats that I had pulled out of the tote containing all the brothers' old shoes. "Now you look like a real soccer player!"

He beamed as he hopped off the stool and ran toward the back door where Hubby was waiting with a soccer ball.

I couldn't help both smiling with excitement and sighing with a little sadness as I watched them kick the ball back and forth. I can remember the first time those two little sets of shin guards were put over skinny little shins.

As soon as Joey and Slim turned three, I signed them up for Tiny Tots soccer. I really wanted little soccer players in the family. Soccer was my favorite sport, and the only one I played growing up.

Only, Joey complained about the long grass being itchy and Slim ran screaming from the late summer swarms of bees.

We tried again the next year, playing micro soccer through our church. Joey dutifully ran up and down the field with the other children, while Slim worked the sidelines, yucking up the crowd by telling jokes to the parents.

We had two more tries at micro soccer with Knox and Lil' C. They even played a little longer, but decided this year they would focus more on baseball and basketball. Edgie is my one last chance to have a soccer player.

Which makes me both excited and sad. I have been through five first times of everything: births, smiles, laughs, words, steps, friends, days of school, sports teams. While there are some similarities, they've all been different in their own ways according to the little boy who experienced them.

They each brought their own spin to every situation. I know there are so many more firsts to come. I look ahead to them with such excitement - well, some fear. The sad or scary firsts anyway.

But Edgie is it. He is my one who will have the last first times. He is the one who will have to help me say good-bye.

And so far, it's been pretty tough for me.

Before Joey got sick, I was hoping I would have just one more baby. Lil' C didn't represent the last for me. I didn't know what would happen; I just knew what I hoped.

After Joey's death, I began to realize all the last first times I missed.

I forgot to feel the precise weight of the baby in my arms.

I didn't memorize the smell of my baby's head the last time I nursed him.

I couldn't recall the sound of the baby giggle that sent me into a fit of laughter.

I didn't hold on more tightly when he said, "Stay with me when I fall asleep."

I didn't take extra pictures on the first day of preschool or memorize the song they sang on Special Visitors Day.

Then along came Edgie, my first last chance.

And I held him tighter,
and nursed him longer,
and stayed with him until he fell asleep.

I memorized his laugh,
and his smell,
and the texture of his soft curly hair.

I get another chance to drink in all the last first times because now I know they are coming.

I don't know if Edgie will be my soccer player or not (the way he ran the whole game without complaining and kicked the ball hard more times than all the other boys combined tells me otherwise, though), but I'm so grateful that I got to drink in that last first game. The excitement, the heart-melting cuteness, and the last first experience to compare to all the others.

Some last firsts I can predict - the last first day of high school, for example - but others I cannot. I know life will throw us curve balls sometimes and take those last first times away from us. I know my boys will throw us curve balls and decide on their own first and last times. I'm not foolish enough to think that Edgie will choose all of the same paths as his brothers.

But I think I'm ready now to take notice of all the moments and recognize that they might be the last first times so I had better drink in every sip of their sweetness.

The 25 Items My Toddler (Apparently) Can't Live Without for an Hour During Sunday Mass

*Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a long time since my last confession. I wrote this blog post during mass.

I have said before that Sunday mass is sometimes the worst hour of my week. It has something  everything to do with a tiny person hell-bent on doing anything and everything except letting his mama pray. No matter how many items I stuff in my purse, it's never enough to keep his rapt attention. Let's face it, I'm no miracle worker because he's still bored during mass.

This is a small sampling of what he thinks he needs during mass:

1. Snacks (duh).
2. Milk (another duh).
3. A toy car.
4. A toy train.
5. A McDonald's toy.
6. Any toy, woman - just get me a TOY!
7. His blankie.
8. Reena the stuffed Rhinoceros (she's recovering from surgery, you know).

That's Daddy operating on Reena's tail.

9. Band-aids (one for here, and one for here, and one there . . .).
10. Books - but not the five pop-up, lift-the-flap books containing his favorite characters that I brought. It has to be the mass missal with the loud crinkly pages that tear easily.
11. My iPhone.
12. Dad's keys.
13. A chunk of his brother's hair.
14. 3 trips to the bathroom and two trips to the water fountain.
15. 20 hugs and 15 kisses from everyone in the pew.
16. Mommy's jingly bracelet.
17. The toy of the kid sitting in front of us.
18. The snack of the kid sitting in front of us (Mommy, why didn't you bring meee Scooby Snacks?).
19. A dollar to put in the collection basket.
20. 4 separate trips to the font so he can bless himself with the holy water - on his head, on his tummy, on his elbow, and in his mouth.
21. Two pamphlets from the free collection (why does he always pick the one that says When Mommy is sad?).
22. Five Kleenexes.
23. One wet wipe - which he uses to clean the pew, kneelers, and his hands when he is done.
24. One trip up to the altar, just to run around a bit (much to the horror of his mommy).
25. And one handshake and blessing from the priest after mass.

*And Father, forgive me, but I have not actually prayed at mass for over ten years. . .

He worked up an appetite with all that "praying."

No wonder that one hour of the week exhausts me more than all the others!

Halfway

One day last week while driving home from school, eight-year-old Knox had a lot of questions for me about driving.

"Will I go to driving school?" He asked this question more than once.

As I patiently answered question after question, a thought struck me: Knox is halfway to being able to drive. He is halfway to sixteen.

He has shot up this year. He is almost as tall as me (at a mere 5 feet, three inches, it won't take my boys long to reach me). He is growing up before my very eyes, so the thought of him getting behind the wheel of a car and driving off with his friends really shook me.

But not for long because then I starting thinking about how Slim is ten now - TEN! - which is halfway to twenty and halfway to being gone from the house. Actually, more than halfway. We're halfway done raising him! Have we screwed up? Is it too late now?

I didn't have time to answer myself because then I started thinking that if Lil' C is six, almost seven, he is halfway to becoming a teenager. And Oh. My. GAH! That kid as a teenager is going to kill us. Mr. Personality Plus Plus and all of his friends - how will I ever handle the teen years?

And then there's Edgie who, at two-and-a-half, is halfway to trotting off to kindergarten all day. Pretty soon he won't even be here in the house with me, and holy hell, Have I played enough Hungry Hungry Hippos with him?

Have I spent enough time with any of them? Because, you know, my birthday is in a month and a half and I will be 44, and let's face it - that's just halfway to death. Half of my life is over and what have I done? And more importantly, have I done it right??

I'll tell you what's not halfway done: packing up this house for our upcoming move. In fact, the sheer enormity of the task paralyzes me so much that I have forced this house's time to stand still.

Only its inhabitants keep marching forward - toward leaving, toward driving away, toward preferring their friends, toward all-day school.

And here I stand, one foot in the grave surrounded by the pile of rubble life keeps piling and piling on me. I don't know how to stop it. I don't know how to stop time so I can catch up, soak it in, slow it down, make it last longer.

It makes me feel panicky.

I wish I would have known about that feeling when I was wishing for everyone to be able to tie their own shoes and buckle their own car seats, and pour their own cereal in the mornings. All that is nice, but it just means they are getting bigger and bigger and moving farther and farther away.

I don't like change. I often wish for things to stay just as they are.

But I know that's not possible or logical or helpful.

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." What band sings that song - Semisonic? It might have been their one and only hit, but how they hit it right on the head!

We can't move ahead unless we're willing to leave where we've been.

If my boys weren't growing up, I'd never see have far they've come - Slim's fierce loyalty to us, Knox's grown-up helper traits, and Lil' C's vast improvement in school since starting kindergarten.

It will happen whether I want it to or not - time will keep marching ahead, halfway, even all the way toward something else. Some other moment besides this one.

I realize the morning is halfway over as I am about to publish this, and I've gotten nothing else done. Edgie grabs my face with both of his hands - the toddler version of Look at ME, Mama. Listen very carefully to what I'm saying.

"Can we sit together and watch 'Winnde da Pooh'?"

"Absolutely," I say as I cup his cheeks with my hands.

I may not be able to stop time, but I can slow it down a bit. I can stay stuck in Halfway for a little while longer.





Wanna slow time with a good book? "I Just Want to Be Alone" is officially available now. Find out how to order it here.

He Won't Be This Little For Long

*This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Huggies Diapers. All opinions and stories are my own. Please read on!

This is absolutely one of my favorite sights to wake up to. I love it when any of my boys cuddles with me, but there is nothing like a small toddler cuddling in my bed (plus, he doesn't take up much room!).

I never intended that he would sleep with me - ever! None of the other boys did. But, when he wakes up in the middle of the night and calls out, "Mah-meeee!?" I have to say, "I'm in here. Come in." Then, I hear the little feet running in the hall, and that familiar 'swish, crinkle, crinkle' of his diaper as he runs. I pull him up on the bed, flip him over to the middle between Hubby and me, and we cuddle in. In just a moment, I hear his heavy and steady breathing again; and I go back to sleep, too.

He won't be this little for long. I know this. He won't want to know where I am all of his waking hours - he'll actually be trying to avoid me, right? So I cherish his every little bit of wanting Mommy.

No matter what it brings.

The morning after he crawled into bed with me last, he ran into the kitchen and practically leapt into my arms. We started our morning squeeze, and that's when I felt it - his diaper had soaked through. I was all dressed for the day, and now I had two huge wet spots on my shirt. I had to change him AND me. That doesn't happen often, but of course it would have to happen on a rare morning when I was already dressed.

Later that day, we found ourselves at Target, and I remembered that Huggies had reached out to me to try their Huggies Snug and Dry with Sure Fit diaper. It had to be better than the one I was using.

And what a pleasant surprise for Edgie that his current favs - Mickey and Minnie Mouse - were on the package. "I wear the Mickey and Minnie diaper," he kept insisting every time I changed him.

With a price point of between $9.99 and $19.99, Huggies Snug and Dry are less expensive than the brand I was using.

We're both digging the comfy waistband and the softness of the diaper. I don't think he'll ever want to go back to his old brand. Some of you might know this, but in addition to the same trusted Leak Lock® protection parents have come to love, only Huggies® Snug & Dry Diapers have SureFit*Design, to provide long-lasting fit for up to 12 hours of leakage protection.

And lo and behold, the next morning, no leaks! Yay!

Upon further investigation, I discovered another reason to love Huggies:  the Huggies® Challenge – you complete challenges and win prizes! When you take the Huggies Challenge, you can win Huggies Rewards Points which can be used toward free diapers and free samples. Two lucky testers will win Huggies diapers and wipes for an entire year!* Wouldn't that be awesome?! Even if you don't have someone still in diapers, think about what an amazing gift that would be to give someone. Drawings for these prizes will take place on May 12th and August 25th.

And, I loooove this - with every challenge completed, Huggies Every Little Bottom Program donates diapers to babies and toddlers in need. I will never forget one summer when I was working as a teacher's aide in a preschool summer program. Many of the little 3-year-olds that we had would come to school in the diaper they had worn all day the previous day. The parents would send them like that because they knew we had diapers, and they couldn't afford them. Huggies wants to make sure they can.

Huggies wants children to be happy, comfortable, and dry. And they want you to take a little break and do something for yourself (and maybe someone else, too).

I'm going to enjoy lots more dry cuddles while I can. After all, he won't be this little for long.


*This giveaway has ended. 

The Missing Piece

When Joey was sick, many people gave us toys, activity books, puzzles, and games. Healthy Joey would have loved them all, but sick Joey barely had interest in any of it.

Except for one little puzzle. It was actually a set of four small puzzles in a wooden box. Each puzzle had a different shape on the back so they could be sorted easily. The lid on the box slid back on the top so that you could put the puzzle together and "display" it once it was done.

He put those puzzles together a lot. It made me happy to see glimpses of the healthy boy who loved puzzles and crafts and coloring books.

I've discarded a lot of the items we received during all of Joey's hospital stays. There was so much, and none of the other boys seem to be into crafts and puzzles like Joey was.

But of all the items, the small box of four puzzles gets used the most. Every time someone gets them out, I find myself smiling a sad little smile.

Recently Edgie, our two-year-old, found the small box and brought it to Hubby. He crawled up on Daddy's lap, and the two of them put all four puzzles together.

He brought the puzzles to Daddy the next night. And the night after that. They put the puzzles together several times, until finally Edgie could assemble the puzzles all by himself.

One day as I was cleaning up the kitchen after the breakfast and off-to-school rush, Edgie climbed up on one of the bar stools and placed the box of puzzles on the counter.

"Mommy, you help me do puzzles?" He asked hopefully.

"Sure," I said, a bit distracted as I wiped the counter and plopped dishes in the sink.

I turned back to the counter to see a little head of wavy blond hair bent over a puzzle, little hands working carefully to fit pieces together. And I caught my breath.

I saw Joey sitting there. I saw a glimpse of healthy, curious, smart Joey in his little brother. A glint of a tear formed in my eye as Edgie placed a piece of the last puzzle in its place.

"Where this piece, Mommy?" He pointed to a corner of the puzzle without a piece.

"I don't know, Sweetie, but let's look together and find it." We scoured the kitchen floor and looked under every couch in the living room, but we couldn't find the piece.

The four puzzles were still set up on the counter when my dad came over later to watch Edgie for me for a little bit.

"Papa, I put puzzles together," Edgie said proudly.

"Wow," Papa remarked, "only this one has a missing piece."

"Oh, it's here somewhere," I said firmly. "We'll find it."

I smiled at Edgie, who smiled back. No, that piece won't stay missing for long. We know it's still here.

9 Things I love About My Two-Year-Old

The older boys are all back in school (oh ma gah- finally!), and I am alone all day with my two-year-old, Edgie.

You guys, I’m totally falling in love with him all over again! He is the Robin to my Batman. The Tonto to my Lone Ranger. The Gilligan to my Skipper (why can’t I think of any girl duos here?).

He is totally my little buddy, and I love it!

 

His toes included!!

To be fair, he’s always been a sweet, easy-going little kid; although he does throw the occasional two-year-old tantrum. And he does get in my way like a small lap dog, sitting on my feet as I blow-dry my hair and crawling into my lap when I am at the computer.

But the things I adore about him far outweigh those little annoyances.

1. He’s totally cool with any type of activity. Whether it’s taking a walk, playing at the park, running errands, watching Sesame Street, or playing with cars while I shower, he never complains.
2. He’s easy to cook for and clean up after. I don’t have to get out a smorgasbord of ingredients and foods for lunch anymore. He’s pretty simple. He eats the same thing for lunch every day; and sometimes, he will even get his own snack (he’s seen how the brothers do it).
3. He’s okay with cuddling next to me if I have to be on the computer. I usually save my computer time for the late afternoon. Oftentimes, he will fall asleep next to me. A good way for him to get in a much-needed nap and give me some quiet time to work.
4. He likes to help me with house work. I love this about two-year-olds! Everything is new and fun and interesting to them. The fact that Edgie loves to imitate adults totally works to my advantage. He’ll put clothes in the dryer, bring me something from the other room, help put toys away, and take clean dishes out of the dishwasher.
5. He suggests outings we should go on. Just the other day, after being stuck inside all morning long, he grabbed his shoes and mine and said, “Go to store?” Okay, sure, I could be up for a little shopping. Get the kid a cookie and he’s golden!
6. While he’s so cute, especially when he’s being naughty, his blatant behavior makes him totally bustable! In the picture below, I was going to the bathroom and right next to me, Edgie was painting the sink, counter, and mirror with soap.  
   
   Umm, hello? I’m right here, Little Dude. When I asked him what he was doing, he adorably replied, “Nuthin.’”
7. He’ll follow me around the house like a little puppy. Since I only have one at home, I’m going to take advantage of the time to get things done. I never really have to worry about where Edgie is because he's usually right next to me. As long as he is in the same room as me, he rarely complains.
8. I’m never bored or lonely. I was worried that after the masses left the house every morning, the lack of chaos would be a little too deafening. But Edgie is interesting enough to keep me entertained, and he’s a really good listener to boot (in fact, I need to watch what I say when I’m driving).
9. He keeps me honest. He’s somewhat of a little backseat driver. “Mommy, buckle your seat belt,” he’ll say as soon as we get in the car. “Mommy, can I have one, too?” He sniffs me out when I’m eating a treat every single time. “Go get brothers?” He’s my timekeeper when I’m engrossed in something else.

I’m really trying not to take advantage of his easy-going nature. Admittedly, I may have just a bit this week because I was working on a project (that I’m so excited to tell you about!) and I had to get it done. Consequently, Edgie and Elmo spent a lot of time together.

But, I’m cherishing this time. I’ve never had just one at home at a time, and it’s pretty cool.

Until it’s not . . .

 

…to be continued.