Happy Birthday My Amazing Boy

Five years.

Wow...

Where to begin?

Five years ago my water broke...six weeks sooner than expected...

Five years ago a sweet doctors answered my call with "Looks like we're having a baby! Wait, how many weeks are you?"

Five years ago my seemingly complicated world became silly.

Five years ago things got serious.

Five years ago you came into this world kicking a screaming and a dream began.

Five years ago you stopped breathing and we nearly lost you.

Five years ago my heart shattered.

Five years ago a dream that never was, slipped through my fingers as hard as I tried not to let go.

Five years ago I begged to see my beautiful but all too still baby boy.

Five years ago my life and my world ended, changed and began anew.

Five years ago I learned what a mothers love is.

Five years ago I started fighting for you.

Since than...

"He will never hold his head up"- you do.

"He will never roll over"- you do

"He will never sit up"- you do

"He will never crawl"- you do

"He will never bear weight on his legs"- you do.

"He will never talk"- you do

"He will never never walk"- you do and now you run!

and the best...

"He doesn't love you. He will never love you or form human bonds"- you do! You are the most loving little person that I have ever known.

NEVER SAY NEVER LITTLE MAN!

You have taught so much. You have given me so much. You have shown me the world through a completely different lens that misses nothing and never skips past the little things. You have shown me what courage is. You have shown me what strength is and it has little to do with muscles. You have proven over and over that there is no such thing as never. You have broken my heart with "I want to walk mama" then made it burst with joy with "I can do it!".

I will be strong for you.

I will cheer for you.

I will cry with you.

I will always be there for you.

I love you my first child.

I love you my amazing boy.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl

Happy birthday to my vibrant daughter.

Happy birthday to the infant who cried for 18 weeks, straight, every waking moment.

Happy Birthday to the all knowing baby who looked into my eyes and told me with hers "I get it".

Happy Birthday to the lips that kissed as soon as they stopped screaming.

Happy Birthday to the little face that looked at me with glee the first time she scooted to the cat and came back with a kiss full of cat hair.

Happy birthday to the strong girl that has always out done herself trying to catch up the the brother she adores.

Happy Birthday to the little voice that started with "dada" and has moved on to "Look at my face. I love you mama, I want a snuggle bug with you."

Happy birthday to my intuitive little girl that finds for me what I have lost before I even ask. Happy Birthday to my mischief maker that has me so often teetering between laughter and tears.

Happy Birthday to the big two year old that never admitted to being a baby in the first place. Happy Birthday to my joyful big girl that can find mystery and intrigue and amazement around any corner.

Happy Birthday to my determined girl who's "I'm smarter than that" attitude which makes me nuts will carry her through many challenges.

Happy Birthday to the sweet sister who loves her brother so much that the hugs sometimes hurt both of them.

Happy Birthday to the youngest but by far most power packed little person in our house.

Happy Birthday to my sweet (really, she is) two year old Kiera. I love you.

I have run into a bit of a problem with blogging. People read it. I don't mean everyone but some people read it and now I have a problem. My ordinary life which often turns toward ironic, silly, frustrating and ridiculous is out there for the misunderstanding. I write about what catches my minds eye. I write about the things that take me by surprise. I write about the things that both exceed and fall short of what I thought my life would be but most of all I write for me. I have found though, that when you type it it seems like the little things are bigger than they are. People that I know read this blog and say things like "How you doing, really?" or "Are you doing OK today?" as if my life is dramatically different than it was a year ago when I stared this thing. It's not. And I'm not. I (and my life) are not that much different from when I started writing although Ben and Kiera definitely keep me busier then...Oh for goodness sake! All that I am trying to say is relax everyone! I write about the little things that SEEM huge AT THE TIME. The little things that you read about are just that. No bigger than your little things. Just worth writing about for their momentary impression on my psyche. OK, rant over. So...Kiera got into a drawer behind a locked cupboard door, opened a bottle of nail polish and stuck the brush into her ear. You see! How could I not write about that! Who does this sort of thing and how can I possibly be expected to predict it? Did I mention that she did this while wearing two pair of Curious George undies over her onsie shirt and third pair of George undies with winter boots and sun hat? She is hilarious!

A little fire

I often feel like I spend my day putting out little fires. "Mama!!!!!!" rings through my house on such a regular basis that sometimes I don't hear it any more. And we wonder why our children don't respond when we say things over and over ; ) There is always a toy being taken, finger being pinched, head being bonked or catastrophic spill to take care of. Most of these things wouldn't warrant a blink except there is a not so little voice raging out of a comparatively little face to alert you to the disaster. Then, you get that one glimpse a day (hopefully) of what the raging storms in your home (your children) will turn into one day when a hand is held or a boo-boo is kissed and you think "I am getting pretty good at putting out these little fires". Then there is actually a fire. Yes flames and all (I recommend never using you toaster oven to reheat thin bacon). Not a big fire just a little counter top toaster fire and all of my years of safety training flew out the window. In a brain-melted-by-my-day moment it seemed a good idea to reheat some bacon in the toaster oven. Well of course I forgot about it BECAUSE MY BRAIN HAD BEEN MELTED BY MY DAY . When I did remember I looked through the little window at the black char on the aluminum foil and though "I should get that out of there!" and did the brilliant thing of introducing oxygen to the char. Then of course there were flames. Bigger flames than you would think too, for just a piece of bacon so what do I do in all of my wisdom? Stand there as if frozen to the ground and yell "its a fire"! That is it! Then when I did decide to do something I TRIED TO BLOW IT OUT! I'm telling you I have completely lost my mind! Dave had to actually move my rooted body out of the way to deal with it. So what, I can handle vomit and poop but absolutely nothing else? It may be time to install a panic button because you never know, the toilet may back up or a glass may break. So, fire put out and disaster averted (with no help from ME) we went on with dinner where both kids got up to poop (Kiera twice) a full plate landed on the floor, my drink was spilled, my glasses were knocked off Kiera fell out of her chair getting down and bonked her head, I wiped two bums and Kiera bit through the table cloth. And it hit me while eating my 45minute old stone cold dinner, I didn't have a chance. My brain had been melted by my day.