Saturday, February 27, 2010

Ten Things

I was STUNNED today when I saw Emmy posted her Ten Things for this month.  It does not even seem possible that the month of February is over.  I just don't know how that happened.  In any case, there are a million reasons every month for me to smile.  February is no different.

Ten Things to Smile About This Month

Giving this guy Happy Birthday memories!
He gives us so much happy

Having someone to love on Valentine's Day

Girl Scout cookies!!

Being surrounded by a supportive and loving family 

A rainy afternoon with a fire in the fireplace and nowhere to be

The Princess praying Our Father at bedtime

Boys that play hard and coaches that care

Girlfriends that always know what to say
Finally starting the photo gallery in the hallway

Offering 40 days of sacrifice for Lent and celebrating the Lord's sacrifice for us


If the only prayer you said in your whole life was "thank you", that would suffice. ~ Meister Eckhart

Friday, February 19, 2010

Flashback Friday

The final post this week in honor of our sweet eight year old boy is, of course
FLASHBACK FRIDAY (his personal favorite)

Eight birthdays
Eight years of happy memories
A million special moments

My prayer for this year is that the Lord will bless us with a million more

February 2003
1st Birthday

February 2004 ~ 2

February 2005 ~ 3

February 2006 ~ 4

February 2007 ~ 5

February 2008 ~ 6

February 2009 ~ 7

February 2009
8 years old!

You'll always be my baby boy 
Love & Kisses to you

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Letters to Someone - Birthday Edition

If you don't love sappy sweet and only read my posts because I am hilarious this isn't the post for you. All of my posts this week are about my sweet baby boy and his birthday tomorrow. This week's letter is just to him. If you want funny you can always go see Shortmama and her friends. Someone there will crack you up. Guaranteed!

For My Son ~

To say that I love you is the most gross understatement of my life. There is no measure of any mother’s love, but my love and admiration for you go well beyond a mother loving her son. I could name hundreds and hundreds of reasons why I love you, but in honor of your 8th birthday I want to tell you the top 8 reasons that I love you so deeply. Just eight.

(1) You are the kindest person I have ever known. You are warm and generous to an absolute fault and are a true inspiration.

(2) Your love and devotion to your family takes my breath away. I adore how easily you show love to your entire family.

(3) Even without your front teeth you have the most precious face ever.

(4) You are an extraordinary student. At eight your vocabulary is better than most adults we know and you are excelling in every subject. You make me so proud!

(5) Your confidence as an Athlete is mind blowing. I admire you so much for never even considering that you may not be as big, as fast or as skilled as your opponents. You play with all your heart every time you play and the translation of that to your success amazes me every.single.time.

(6) You are truly hilarious.  You have a ridiculous sense of humor and are wittier than any 8 year old should be.

(7) I never knew what an "Old Soul" was until I met you.  Now I get it.  And I like it.

(8) Knowing that God picked your Daddy and me for you makes me believe that there really is a purpose for everyone on earth.  You save me from myself over and over again and God is using you to do his work here.  I believe that with all my heart.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.  You mean the world to me and I hope that you get everything you want in life.  There really is no one who deserves it more.

With All My Love,

Your Mom

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Excuse me sir, you left your shoes

This is my son.  Isn't he darling?

He doesn't love to wear shoes.  He'd rather be barefoot on the lawn eating popsicles.   Or riding his little scooter in the driveway eating chocolate pudding.

He does have one pair of favorites that he's wearing here and they have Buzz Lightyear on them.  He sure loves that Buzz Lightyear.  But most little boys do.

Imagine my surprise when I walked into his room this week and saw these shoes lying in the floor.

These are not the shoes of MY baby boy.

These shoes are made for a much bigger person who plays competitive sports and throws them in a duffle bag when he runs out the door with his friends.  These shoes are worn by an adolescent who is grumpy when he's tired and complains about taking a shower.  That is not part of my life.  Not yet.

Isn't my son darling?

I'm blogging about my boy all week.  He turns 8 this weekend and I am just.not.ready

Monday, February 15, 2010

Not Me Monday

It is so not me that thinks four days off could be the cure for everything.  I am dedicated professional - a go getter - and a doer.  I would NOT take four days off as an opportunity to stay in, kiss all over my babies and get some things done at home to make me feel complete.  Not me.

I did not take The Athlete, The Princess and a couple of friends to lunch on Friday and let them get ice cream after eating about half of their meals - collectively.  And I did NOT let them get candy in the candy store afterwards, along with a kazoo.  Nope, not me.  And I did not giggle when my husband asked who was in charge of that outing.  Because he knew that it couldn't have been me.  And it wouldn't have been me that let them eat the candy and fresh chocolate chip cookies in their sleeping bags after bedtime while they were watching the Olympics.  That would be so irresponsible and inappropriate.

It was not me that spent the entire day on Saturday doing housework and absolutely felt like it gave me the right to lounge around on Sunday.  Not having to work on Monday was not so liberating that I laid in bed for hours with the kiddos watching movies and then let them have In and Out for dinner.  No, not moi

And mostly, it can not be me that cries every single time I think that my first born is turning eight this week.  I don't cry when I see a baby picture hanging in the hallway and think that my entire life is zipping by while I am fretting over skin care and grey hair.  Not me that thinks I am still the mother of toddlers and that it's a viable excuse to be crazy.  That chick is not me.

What didn't you do?  Don't tell me.  It's not me that laughs at your expense.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Letters to Someone

Dear Post Office Patron ~

I will apologize in advance for my crankiness.  We have already identified just how UnFun I am, but your kids are truly atrocious.  Now I know that kids do the craziest things and will embarrass you at just the wrong moment every.single.time but I am pretty sure you weren't embarrassed and this wasn't a random occurence for your family.  The screaming.  The running.  The pulling out all the paper numbers and making a mess for someone else to clean (yup, the one you stepped over when you walked out and called to them over your shoulder).  Even when I am fun, that's not cool.  You're going to need to leave them in their cages next time you go out or dispense to everyone you encounter that oblivious pill you're taking.  It's the only way.


Mrs. Horrified on Your Behalf

Dear Gray Hair ~

You are not welcome here.  You know I have had to cancel my last couple of salon appointments and you keep mutliplying anyway.  I am not as young as I used to be still young.  Too young for you to be raising such a large family on my scalp.  I know that I would make a groovy Cruella Deville for Halloween, but since it's only January I was hoping you could back off.  Or, ya know, just go away all together.  That would be nice.

See Ya!

The Young Pretty Girl who Doesn't Dye Her Hair

Dear Dogs ~

Y'all are seriously getting on my nerves.  I know you don't love the rain and would rather be outside chasing birds or something, but life is hard sometimes.  I can't rant about how bad you smell because I am too damn lazy to bathe you myself and too busy to take you to the groomers.  I'll let you off the hook there.  But the lounging around every corner of the house and refusing to move even when someone is tripping over you with a a bag of groceries or hot pan is not nice.  That is not good dog behavior.  Please stay in your own plush space and I won't be so tempted to throw your asses out in the rain.  This is your last chance to be loyal companions!


Yo Mama

Dear Social Life ~

I miss you.  Please don't forget about me.

With Love,

Mrs. Montoya

You can link up for Letters to Someone every Thursday with Shortmama and all her letter writing friends.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

There's this Thing I don't Love about Motherhood

Thing is singular.

Meaning that there's just this one nagging THING about motherhood lately that I am not loving.  I have chosen to forego any conversation about stretch marks or breasts that have a new zip code south of their formerly lovely neighborhood.  If not for children, I would have just found some other way to destroy my body so I will not blame any of that on my sweet children.

The Thing is how UnFun I am.  Un.Fun.  Being a Mom has somehow transformed me from the girl who thinks it's fun to play in the rain to the very serious woman who drills math facts in the car and barks about bedtime and brushing twice a day.  Truly UnFun.

I am at an absolute loss on how to bridge the gap between raising responsible, considerate humans and embracing my inner life of the party.  Is there some formula that effectively combines playing Uno and turning in homework on time?  Is it possible to laugh at their antics and ignore bad behavior in church without somehow leading them to believe it's acceptable to make faces during the homily?  My current answer to all of these questions is a resounding No. 
I literally dropped everything tonight and drove too fast to get home so I could love on my kids before I put them to bed.  I really needed to work for a couple more hours, but I had a cozy vision in my mind of snuggling with them both and reading their favorite books.  It would be intimate and warm and they'd each fall asleep dreaming of my love for them and I would have a glass of wine satisfied that I can conquer corporate America tomorrow.  That's not quite how it went down.

Instead I instantly turned into a whirling mess of

"where is this?"

"did you take your medicine?"

"is this due tomorrow?"

"no, we don't have time for that.  it's past your bedtime."

Who is that?  I don't know her.  She is dull and stern and absolutely no fun.  Am I the only one that thinks motherhood is the least amount of fun possible?  Is it our only job to force feed vitamins and make sure no one under the age of 16 leaves the house without a jacket?

The Thing I need is a fun infusion.

And that glass of wine.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Good While it Lasts

My Athlete is home sick from school this week and stayed in bed a long, long time this morning.  After telling his sister 4,833 times to put on her uniform, brush her hair and put her lunchbox in her backpack we were ready to leave.

I stopped by The Athlete's bedroom to kiss him and tell him goodbye.  He was sweet as pie, of course, and tugged at my heart a little when I turned to leave.

I didn't know The Princess was in the doorway behind me and was BLOWN AWAY when she said:

"I'm sorry you're sick.  I hope you feel gooder."

I thought I might burst into tears or buy her a pony on the way to school.  Unsolicited kindness does not come from this child's mouth.  It was a moment to be treasured for years to come.

And then she said:

"Don't touch my stuff with your sick hands."

Oh right.  There's my daughter.  Go get in the car.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Flashback Friday

maybe it's because i am so busy i am breathless most of the day

maybe it's because we're getting ready to celebrate my baby's 8th birthday

maybe it's because i am not spending enough time praying or hugging my family

whatever it is
i am homesick in a way that makes my heart hurt

home reminds me of simple

sweaty kids and a slip and slide on a summer afternoon

boiled peanuts and sweet tea on the back porch

flashback to the last time my children were in my hometown

she was 3 ~ he was 5

that makes my heart hurt, too ~  but the memories are oh so sweet

simple is good


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