27

Today is my birthday and while my husband seems to be taking great joy in pointing out I'm no longer "young" I have the feeling I haven't been "young" for a very long time.

Looking back at the years that have passed I'm struck by the number of birthdays that were in so many ways just another day. My mother always did a great job of celebrating the day I was born but to me the hype of the day sometimes didn't transcend.

As kids we tend to build up such days, look at them as they are to be the greatest day, almost as big as Christmas. Often times such hype can leave us wanting.

As an adult I know that while my birthday is special it is in actuality just another day. Life beyond my own front door continues to pass with little notice of it's meaning to me, which is just as it should be.

Another thing I have noticed about my birthday is that for some reason I'm saddened by the day. I remember at 13 spending the day in my room, mostly crying. For what reason, I do not know.

My 15th birthday was spent wishing my grandmother and mom were home rather than at the hospital. The next day my grandmother died.

Now, since that birthday I admit celebrating became rather difficult. My birthday simply became a reminder that my grandmother was no longer around and given that at the time I was my momaw's girl it was and still is sad to think of yet another year she has missed out on.

As the years have passed I know that there will be moments with each birthday that the sadness of her departure will creep in, I know that I have many things to be proud of and am grateful to have made it through another year.

As a child we rush to celebrate, shout from the roof tops that it's our day and as we age the shouting gets quieter and quieter until it seems to become a whisper. Eventually it becomes less of our shouting and more of those around us shouting for us, and sometimes in spite of us.

While there will always be those that do not acknowledge our birthday's and those who seem to never forget, I believe the true celebration comes from the ability to look within ourselves and mark how far we have come. A declaration of "I've made it" and the understanding that with another year passing another one waits to be explored. We may not be guaranteed tomorrow but that doesn't mean we can't anticipate the adventure that awaits.

So with that spirit in mind, here is to the coming year and the many doors that will be opened and to those that will never open. I'm sure regardless of what happens it will definitely be an adventure...one I plan to enjoy even if it pains me along the way.

Also, here is to celebrating your special day...whatever day it may be. Embrace it, enjoy it, and know that it doesn't matter who celebrates with you as long as you are doing a little celebrating yourself.

where's an elf when you need one?

Christmas is a mere two weeks away. With this in mind my husband and I decided to pull down "Santa's gifts" and put them together. Since we ordered them online we had both bikes to put together.

Erin's went together pretty smoothly...meaning that after 45 min. we had attached everything minus all the stinking Barbie accessories. How many accessories does a kids bike need anyway??

Then, on to Ireland's. Pause for a frustrating scream. Over 1.5 hours later we still can't get the front wheel to attach. Suddenly, Sean looks strangely at the front of the wheel base and says..."I think it's bent" .

I look and of course, the whole frame is bent a good 2 to 3 inches making it impossible to not only get the bike together but for a child to ride if you did manage to attach the wheel. So here I am with a Tinkerbell bike that is impossible to ride and knowing I have to find one within two weeks. Maybe I could give her a bag of saw dust and tell her it's pixie dust??

So of course being 5 months pregnant I immediately went into tears. Between sobs I proclaim this is the only thing she asked for from Santa and this is all Santa is bringing (you know economy stinks thus Santa is having to cut back because who knows if he will have a job or if his company will suddenly cut pay) and how in the world are we going to ship this one back and have another shipped out in time for Christmas.

Another 30 minutes of full on tears and total dread the husband attempts to calm me down and instructs me to contact the manufacturer as well as ToysRus and see what our options are going to be.

Yet another 2 hours pass and I'm on the phone only to find out that if I want this bike I have to track it down in a store and drive to exchange it. Which usually wouldn't be such a bad thing...except I live in the middle of no where and the nearest ToysRus is 2 hours away.

So now tomorrow, I get to throw myself, my son, and a half together bike in the car to drive the 2 hours in hope that they still have one in stock. You know, since they won't "hold" one for me even though I'm driving for what will seem like forever just to exchange the one I do possess.

Also, it takes 24 hours to have them put together the bike...unless I am willing to pay $10 extra and take the floor model. So here is hoping the floor model is in good condition because I'll be damned if I have to bring another one home and attempt to put that crap together.

Granted, I know I'm being a complete baby about the thing and making a mountain out of a mole hill as they say. It's just I'm pregnant and emotionally unstable from all these hormones... so everything is dramatic. Where's the Prozac when you need it??? Guess I'll just have to pretend these wonderful kicks to my already weak bladder are the cure.

Here's a toast to all of Santa's "helpers"...hope your tinkering goes better than ours.

dr. dr. you have to help me

I'm still sick. Still fighting this wonderful sinus nonsense that has plagued me for a month. So all I seem to get done each day is getting to girls off to school, feeding and caring for Michael, and fitting in as many naps as I possibly can because I never seem to sleep at night.

I'm rather sick of being sick. So I'm hoping that tomorrow when I visit my OBGYN for my 5 month check up (yes that's right...already 5 months have gone by) I'm hoping that she can do something to help me get well besides asking me to visit my primary dr. which doesn't seem to be working out so well.

Besides just wanting to feel better I'm also having awful dreams about my son being born with extra arms, legs, and mental issues because of the meds the dr. gave me over this never ending sickness.

We also still have no name for our son. I realize I still have plenty of time but it is driving me crazy that I have no clue and haven't really liked the few options we have come up with . I'm in desperate need of some help in this department so again...any ideas???

to the next 5 months

So I've been MIA for months. Just to let you know what has been going on during that time.




That's right folks, the O'Sullivan household will be welcoming a new baby boy (yet to be named) to our home this March. So here's hoping 4 children running around is as easy( laugh laugh laugh) as 3.

So, have any good Irish boy names that are masculine and fit our growing bunch???

Well, that's enough for now. I'm busy with a chest cold, a baby with chest congestion/cough, and a 5 year old with a cough. At least they aren't as sick as this mom's kids.

Here is hoping to get back into writing which has almost become nonexistent with busy schedules and my unwavering desire for naps.

Please return to your regularly scheduled programing.

a new day to day

With almost 3 weeks of school under our belt I'm beginning to believe we might just make it through the year. Granted, I'm also beginning to realize my kids are getting comfortable in school, thus their attitude and sharp personality comes out to play more often while at school.

My children are far from perfect but I wouldn't have it any other way. Erin, is very quick to correct and rather bossy. While we are attempting to address this less than welcoming attitude I realize that many of the characteristics are learned behavior. So while addressing her Sean and I are addressing ourselves and attempting to curb the way we may come off to our children.

Ireland, loves to laugh and will easily walk away from a challenge. Writing her letters can become somewhat overwhelming so she just pushes her paper away while spouting, "it's too hard". I've found that a little praise goes a long way but also realizing that some things that come easier for some are not so easy for others.

Each attempting to make their way through a giant change. There are days when they voice they would rather stay home with mom or worry about the dealings that take place in the school yard. Their life is less simple, thus so is mine.

Even with these difficult mornings I see a change in my daughters. I see them growing, experiencing, and learning right before my eyes. This transformation is wonderful, but the greatest feeling...when they exit the bus and come running screaming, "mommy".

a is for apple

My sweet little girls started kindergarten yesterday. While this is in no way life shattering and it hasn't sent me into a depression like other mothers, I can't help but wonder where the past 5 years have gone.

I still remember the first time I saw Erin. The doctor lifted her up over the curtain covered in blood, she cried slightly and I was overcome by the incredible feeling of love, fear, and possibilities all wrapped up into one.

Ireland, I remember the few moments before she was born. I could hear her sister crying, and I could feel her literally being pulled from me. I don't remember the first time I saw her but I remember the last moment she was apart of me, I remember the very moment before I could hold her in my arms.

The two moments though completely different are one in the same to me. The second just as important as the first. Both the very first moments I had with my daughters, my little girls.

Through the years there have been moments when I felt the task of being a mother to twins to be too much. I felt that it was a job I had mistakenly been given because there was no way I could accomplish the task.

The moments in which they climbed over and under everything, the ones in which they would run out the door and hide, the ones in which they would find baby powder or the many other hundred things kids get into and making a complete mess. I remember them learning to walk, learning to talk.

All a step towards the next milestone, the very next moment that would yet again solidify the girls independence and my ongoing job as a parent.

Ireland just a couple weeks ago thought it would be funny to cut Erin's hair. So, she quietly made her way behind her sister and cut a huge chunk out of Erin's desire for long hair. Out of love she then cut her own hair to hopefully make up for her sister's unhappiness.

Two little lives so intertwined and yet all their own. Yesterday, the grew up, even if just a little. They found themselves for the first time spending most of their time apart, each in a different room with a different teacher and different obstacles to overcome.

Yesterday, I grew up too, even if just a little. I watched as one child sat frightened and yet wouldn't let me or anyone else know it. Bravely she faced the unexpected refusing to allow anyone to know she was afraid. I watched as the other, the one I thought would have the most difficulty, openly embrace the new challenge. She said, "I'm just so excited" which was ever so present upon her ear to ear smile.

Today, I watched as they did it for the second time...and watched as the same fears and excitement stretched across their little faces.

I've gained a freedom by having the girls in school. Each morning I awake and prepare them to have another guide and direct their days. I entrust my children to another. For the first time in 5 years, I don't know what exactly happens during my daughters' day.

It may be the first step of letting go but I understand the fear now. I get the fear of not having your kids around...wondering if they will make good decisions or if the will ask for help when needed. While I understand what faces a 5 year old to be less life threatening than what they will face as teenagers or adulthood I also know that it's these formative years that help later in life.

I know my girls will be fine in the long run. I know they can handle whatever comes their way because while they are still learning to think and do on their own...I'll be right there waiting in case I'm needed. You see, that's my job and I have to trust that I'll done the best I can up until now. I have to hope and trust that even though I'm no longer a part of their every moment that they still understand I'm there for them and I have to hope that they have gained enough self-confidence and morality to begin standing on their own so when faced with two different paths...hopefully they choose to behave because I don't want to be spending my new found freedom in the principals office.

one day at a time isn't just for alcoholics

Today I may very well loose my mind. For all I know it has already left, forgetting to remind me of it's upcoming absence, knowing I would probably forget it's departure anyway.

It is highly conceivable that as I write I'm not even sitting at the computer but rather sitting in a corner, in the fetal position, crying.

Motherhood is full of moments that make you so happy and peaceful that you wonder why you ever had doubts about becoming a parent. The first smile, the first time they say momma, the first I love you, first good report card, the list could go on. The problem is that these moments are not contained to mere firsts but rather spread through your child's life and yours to a point that sometimes...you miss them.

While we attempt to make every effort to hold on to these moments, recognize them as the inch closer, and savor them as they pass we realize that not each moment is a pleasurable one. Not each moment in motherhood is filled with happiness. Sometimes the sun does not shine out of our ever impressive children. Sometimes, the happenings that exist in motherhood leave you locked in the closet or sitting in the fetal position in the corner.

For six long months I have practically been a single parent. While I am still happily married I am without spouse. He resides a mere 6 hours away leaving little opportunity to help out with the children. They get sick, mom's on duty. They get hurt, mom's on duty. they misbehave, mom's on duty. They wake up in the night crying, mom's on duty.

Day after day, month after month I answer their calls. And month after month, I am reminded by their sweet faces how much their father is missed. How regardless of how much I try I can't fill the void left by the absence of their father. Those shoes, I was never meant to fill.

I am extremely overjoyed by the closeness my children share with their father. It is a relationship I have never had the pleasure to experience. I do not know what it is like to have a father love you so much he includes you in his life and shows his love without question or reason. My children, they have a father who loves them more than his next breathe. He would do anything for them, regardless if they didn't measure up.

Just this evening he reminded me that things can get worse, and probably will. While I live my life in the trenches of motherhood my tasks, my tribulations are mere pebbles to the boulders that await.

Ireland sneaking up to Erin and cutting a huge chuck out of her hair just one day after Erin had begged to keep it long because, "I want long hair like mommy." Ireland, out of rebellion over her current situation took her frustration out on her sister. Now Erin has a less that wonderful look for the start of Kindergarten and Ireland is facing a week without her scooter she just received for her birthday.

Maybe it's the fact I feel alone without my spouse around to offer the helping hand. Perhaps it's the lack of sleep. It might possibly be the fact that living in WV is proving to be very difficult when you realize that issues with parents just never seem to change and can often times become worse. Then again, maybe I'm just overwhelmed. Who knows, I certainly don't. I do know that tonight has led to a break down. A mental and physical break that is leaving me feeling down right defeated.

My husband reminded me, "it will get worse. we may have to bail them out of jail when the are older". While I cringe at the thought of my children doing something to land them in jail I'm having trouble climbing the pebbles in my path. I suppose I can only hope that as the pebbles begin to grow larger, eventually changing into rocks, and finally boulders that the smaller ones prepare me for the larger ones approaching.

If you think about it, we as mothers spend our entire lives raising our children for the one day in which they don't need us. We take these little beings into our arms when they are completely helpless. Slowly, they begin to learn, stumbling along the way. We devote our hearts, minds, and souls to helping them reach the goals until that day in which we must release them and allow them to tread ahead on their own.

I know this. I know that this is my fate. There will come a day in which the children in my care will no longer be children. There will come a day when potty training and cleaning their room will be a thing of the past. One day, many years from now, I will release my children into the world hoping that I gave them all the tools they need for success.

The only problem is that while I know this, the issues that plague a mother in the midst of raising small children can be a boulder all on it's own. Maybe the stories about poop, and feedings, and lack of sleep are boring. Maybe these stories don't connect with everyone. However, these are our stories. These are the stories of mothers, stories from mothers who spend their days wondering if the fact their child has had 5 poops in one day is normal considering normally that child only has 2. Our worries are different, but they are none the less important.

Our work weeks are long, the pay debatable, and vacation days virtually nonexistent. We spend our days working for someone who will eventually fire us because they realize they can do it on their own. There is no separation of business and pleasure. We live, breathe, and eat our jobs knowing that it's the most important job we will ever have the pleasure to preform.

I am a stay-at-home mother. That is my occupation. No, I do not have a monetary income but the fringe benefits are out of this world. And while there are days I wonder why in the hell I chose this job I know that in the end it will all be worth it....if I can just get there. I choose to be a stay-at-home mother. I realize the difficulties with being a working mother. I don't believe I'm better, or worse. I simply am. And while I make mistakes in my line of work I know I've earned respect along the way, as have others.

So I'm going to retreat to my corner, have a good cry and then go to bed. I know I can't quit my job, I know my boss is demanding. I know that there are days that you need that good cry, heck there are days when you need a bad cry. Sometimes you just need to let it out so that tomorrow you can hit the mountain running, hoping that you can at least make it half way up before you get knocked on your ass.

the journey of five years. happy birthday erin and ireland, momma loves you!

from beaching it to sicking it

So, we had 2 wonderful days on the beach...and now we've had 3 days of sicking it up. First it was Michael with a fever and all around grouchiness which was due to teeth. The kid currently has 5 coming in.

Now Erin has taken a fever and as of midnight she began vomiting. Yippie! Poor kid can't seem to keep anything down and her temp is over 103. Don't worry I've called the kids doctor (luckily I've lived here before and kept the doctors phone number!) and am hoping they will advice me on what is best for my little girl.

So instead of returning home rested and energized from a vacation it looks like I might leave more exhausted than when I arrived. Which is just proof a mom has a lot more to give than we ever think possible. We are like the freakin' Energizer Bunny.

beaching it baby

I'm currently beaching it up. I'm a visitor, a tourist, and I must admit that while this wonderful place still feels like home its extremely awkward knowing I'm just a tourist now.

When spending a day at the beach I was happy to report when asked where I was from that I lived here. I was able to take advantage of the beach/ocean until it simply became too cold to enjoy. I spent time with my children on the sand long after the tourists had come and gone. I remember looking around this island and seeing very few lights on, the island now belonging to it's residents.

Looking upon the shore last evening and seeing it flooded with visitors I felt a sadness because I knew, like them, my time would end shortly. I wouldn't be here when the tourist season dies down and a wonderful calmness falls upon the island. I will miss the quiet days upon the shoreline with the kids. I will miss my spot.

The kids have also voiced their sorrow in missing this place. My girls are truly beach bum babies. They feel at home in the waves, still unsure of these crazy pools we must visit in WV for water fun. They keep insisting that we can stay with daddy. The house won't miss us they insist.

As much as I miss my ocean home I know that we are needed in WV. Sometimes being needed is just as important as liking where you live. The kids and I are still adjusting to life in the mountains but we know that once all 5 of us are in WV life will begin to feel more like home.

Until then we will enjoy the few days with our ocean and savor the moments with Sean. Hopefully within less than a month we will all live in the same state.

testing....testing....is there a doc in the room?

I enjoy writing. I do it almost every day now. I've noticed however that the more I write the more my mind works as if I were writing. Take today for example.

After sending our Aussie family on their way yesterday, today was to be a return to normal schedule. While on our way to swim my father drove past us, looked right at me, then continued on his way.

I spend the next 45 minutes trying to rid my mind of the passing. If it had been anyone else I would have remained unshaken looking forward to my swim. With it being him I immediately fell apart and have remained as such.

All day I find my mind writing short stories about the passing. Dialogue runs through my mind as if I were reading a book.

"She spoke to everyone as if nothing had happened all the while wanting nothing more than to retreat to the couch. She could plant herself there for the next three days and silently deal with the pain she felt, the pain she felt every time she saw him now. She just wanted to disappear but even that she knew would not give her the answers she wanted.

Why was it so difficult to love her?

What was wrong with her?

Trying to shake the thoughts from her head she dove back into conversation wondering if her heart breaking was loud enough for everyone around her to hear? Did it register on her face?

It mustn't...no one asked if something was wrong. She would be safe at least for now. She knew that if someone were to ask she would become unglued and there just isn't time for that."

It rattles on and on in my mind about everything. Today was no different...only the context more straining on the heart, filled with a sadness, and just wanting the thoughts to vanish.

I wonder how true writers deal with this inner voice? Do they carry recorders to help catch the words spilling out or is there a trick to harnessing it so that when you sit to write it is contained and free flowing?

Or, am I simply in need of a good nap and possibly a good dose of meds from the ol' doctor?

i'd write something really smart if i only knew my brain still functioned

Two weeks have passed and I am beginning to feel as if I will literally fall over from exhaustion.

Two weeks ago this evening my step-dad almost died. He apparently has been walking around with several blood clots....all of which ended up in his lungs. On Friday 13th of June, he not feeling well, ventured to the hospital only to find himself fighting to stay alive and landing himself a nice spot for several days in CCU.

Some people deal well with hospitals and relying upon others for the most basic of things....he isn't the greatest hospital person. He did fare better than expected but it was a trying week.

He is now home and things seem to be progressing. Recovery is slow and we still don't know all needed information but things are looking good.

We have also had the wonderful pleasure of having our Aussie family visiting. Husband's oldest brother and his family have come for a 2 week visit that ends this Sunday.

It has been an amazing visit. Our niece who was only 2 upon their last visit is a spit-fire at 6. Her brother who was only a few months old their last visit is a walking/talking 4 year old.

My girls have been so excited with new cousins to play with that I can barely get them to sleep at night. We have had 2 sleep overs and countless hours of family time.

We also had the wonderful pleasure to welcome a new member to the family as number 5 in the O'Sullivan household has found himself a lass who is just crazy enough to take on the O'Sullivan name in the near future. Welcome to the family M...here's hoping you can still put up with all of us in 10 years. lol

With family visiting Sean also came home for about a week which only added to our joy. It was just long enough to make his departure even more difficult. Needless to say we are hoping feverishly that he will be returning permanently very soon.

Upon all else that has been happening my mom had surgery today. Luckily everything went well and she is at home recovering and hopefully will find herself feeling better than she has in years very very soon.

2 weeks and more has happened than I can normally fit into a month. I'm exhausted and hoping that a good sleep is not far off in the distance. It's been a wonderful and difficult two weeks...but one I am sure to remember for years and years to come.

Here's hoping the next 2 are more calm. I do have two little girls anxiously awaiting their 5th birthday in 3 weeks.

Jesus poop

Erin, "Mommy, I need to poop."

Mom, "okay, go to the bathroom then."

Erin, "come with me, I need help."

Mom, "okay, but you have to do it yourself."

A few minutes pass

Mom, "Erin, you need to finish pooping."

Erin, "Jesus only gave me one."

Mom, "Jesus made your poop."

Erin, "No, he just helps me poop"

seperation anxiety

This morning started off rather well. It was kind of like a Saturday. The girls didn't have preschool and we slept in later than normal and then enjoyed a leisurely breakfast.

During this time however I received a phone call. One that I had anticipated happening for weeks now. On the other end of the line was my husband...explaining that his store opening had indeed been pushed back and now he was rather uncertain when he would be moving home.

We have went from the end of May to looking more like July/August now. I have been living without him, raising our children, and attempting to rebuild a home since the end of January. It is beginning to wear on the kids, him, and myself.

We have lived separately for almost 5 months now. We only get to see one another about once a month and even those visits are only a few days. It is beginning to feel like he will never live here with us.

I know that as difficult it is on us, for him it is rather lonely. Constantly coming home to an empty house that isn't his own. Constantly eating alone and no leisure activities with friends. At least I have friends and family that are attempting to keep the children and I busy in his absence.

I want Sean home more than anything and I'm rather fearful that summer will come and go and I will find myself taking the girls to their first day of kindergarten without him. I'm afraid he is going to miss this and so many other moments. He has already missed so many moments.

He's missed Michael's first steps, missed the girls first season of soccer, missed on all the wonderful and special moments that have taken place lately.

He now faces being homeless on top of everything else. Given that summer has started the homes are being rented which puts Sean on the street. Given how much the prices go up during summer it doesn't look promising that he could just get a hotel room either...that is if one where to be available.

He's worried about ever getting home, worried about having a roof over his head...and well I am too.

Absence may make the heart grow fonder but I'm tried of waiting...I'm ready to get back to married life. Ready to feel whole again.

four letter word

It's finally happened. I've heard those dreaded words from my child...from this little person who I love so dearly.

"Mommy, I HATE you."

After immediate tears (from me) and a conversation (with Erin) about how using the word hate isn't appropriate (we should use "I don't like" instead because words can hurt) I've realized this is more like a right of passage than a critic on my relationship with my daughter.

Sure, in her 4 year old mind I'm sure she hates the fact I make her clean up her messes. I'm sure she hates the fact I scold her and even punish her when she acts out. I'm sure she hates that she is stuck with me constantly instead of quality daddy time.

I get it...her life isn't a bed of roses right now. However....and I say this strongly.

What the hell????

I used to pride myself in thinking I could handle it when my child said this. I knew that when it happened it would most likely be because I was doing my job as a parent. I was standing my ground and carrying through with needed morals and rules.

I just didn't expect the words to exit my 4 year old daughter's mouth. Four....isn't that a little young to hate your mother???

I shouldn't be taking this so hard...she also informed me she hates monsters, hates kissing boys, and hates hates hates it when I'm mean. Apparently every time I correct her I'm a horrible boy kissing monster who in her mind is perfectly acceptable to hate.

It just stings more than I ever thought possible. I was prepared (or hoped I would be) for when my teenagers informed me of their disdain for my rules and requirements. I knew it would happen then...I expected it then. Even knew preteen was a possibility, but 4....that I wasn't ready to experience.

I suppose it is inevitable that at some point in time a mother will hear those dreadful words from their child. I just wonder if a mother is actually ever capable of not allowing emotions to come into play after the words hit the air?

Is it possible to hear such words and not be affected? Are we so wrapped up into our children that with a quick tongue lashing we can be brought to our knees when we should be taking it all with a grain of salt?

I suppose the true answer depends upon the child and situation. My daughter doesn't actually hate me...she simply disliked my course of action. In other situations maybe it allows the mirror to pass before our eyes and see an error in ourselves.

While I believe my daughter meant no harm the mirror did pass before my eyes and let me tell you...I'm absolutely frightened of my daughters as teenagers. I'm not prepared. Hopefully the next 9 years will prepare me and allow me to become a better parent.

As mothers we are called to be many things for our children I just don't believe we are ever prepared for the many things are children are to us. We expect to teach and mold our children but along the way our children in return teach and mold us. Hopefully in the end we are all better because of it.

get out and get moving

Currently, I'm exhausted. The last few days have been most enjoyable and yet leave me with very little energy.

With Sean home (visiting since he still hasn't been moved) we have been spending time allowing the girls to explore what makes WV special to us. We have enjoyed climbing on rocks, checking out the amazing mountains, and taken in a waterfall or two. The great thing....it's free and the kids are loving it.

With each trek through the woods you would think we paid a million dollars for the enjoyment our children are experiencing. Ireland amazed by each new thing she discovers. Erin taking in the mood and possible danger with every turn while pointing out how it's so amazing. Michael just soaking it all up and taking a moment to pick up a rock and checking the taste.

It may not be the beach but it sure is beautiful and amazing in it's own right. It's one of the reasons we moved back. Sean and I have been here before. Exploring all the "woods" have to offer. Seeing the amazingness nature has to offer through a waterfall or how amazing the trees and grass smell after a rain.

It's all new to them...and so inspiring. It's a reminder that the outdoors have so much to offer, we just need to get up and get out there.

So let's all get moving.

from the mouths of babes

Ireland, "After I sleep will daddy be here?"

Me, "honey he will be here tomorrow night but you will already be asleep."

Ireland, "So he'll be in the bed with you when I wake up?"

Me, "yes"

Ireland, "good, that is where he belongs."

working through the kinks

The last few days have been rather sluggish. Partly because I've been rather moody and slightly overwhelmed. But hey...I'm a mother, it comes with the territory. At least for me it seems.

Anyway, today after dropping the girls off at preschool I spent some time in the kitchen. Yes, I know...not a place I'm known to be spending my time, but non the less there I was. The great thing is that I wasn't in my own kitchen...I was at my aunt's.

We made rhubarb pies and rhubarb preserves. Many people may look at rhubarb and wonder why someone would each such a thing. Let me tell you that if you love sweet and sour....you are truly missing out if you aren't eating this stuff.

Not only was the food we were preparing good but it was nice to spend some calm time with someone I love so dearly.

It was a reconnect if you will. Sometimes the things we need are the simple things. And, sometimes we just need to make time for them!

With my calm start to the day I felt more energized to head home and hit the workout. One hour of cardio today...I'm feeling great and that half marathon might actually become a reality. I'm not giving in or up yet....there are still a lot of miles in these tires and I've come to realize that the better care I take of myself, the better care I take of my children.

the waiting game...not for me

I wear my feelings on my sleeves often. I try rather hard not to and for the most part am able to accomplish that but when those closest to me act in a manner that upsets me I find it rather difficult to just shrug it off.

I'm also a planner. Each day has a list of things to be accomplished and the day is fairly mapped out. I even plan days in advance. For example this Wednesday I'm making rhubarb preserves and pies which involves dropping girls to preschool, picking up aunt, going to grocery store to pick up necessary items then spending some time preparing the rhubarb.

Today, my plan was to straighten up the house, do laundry and go through those last few boxes. I had scheduled in a workout while Michael was napping with a quick trip to my favorite (yeah right... I can't stand the place) store before picking the girls up at 12:30.

To which afterwards I would mow grass.

Then plans changed because a friend wanted to work out with me. I rearranged my day. Made the necessary phone calls to procure childcare so I could go...then....nothing.

One delay turned into me just waiting around. Call babysitter not once, not twice, but three times because of waiting on someone else. Usually, I wouldn't be waiting around.

So finally after waiting all I could I put Michael down for his late afternoon nap and started back at my list that I had pushed back all day. Called the babysitter, cancelled, and sat on the floor and cried.

I try really hard to treat people the way I wish to be treated. I try really hard to understand that other people carry a different set of importances than I. Today, I didn't do so well.

When a friend calls to make plans and I can work it out, great. However, when I feel like I'm being jerked around it makes me angry and very sad. Open ended plans are one thing but when you set an approximate time that requires a mother of three to make plans then casually and slowly blow her off...it hurts.

I just wish it didn't bother me so bad. I wish planning an outing were easier and I wish my friend understood how the indifference towards me today truly hurt. Granted, I wish I had the courage to just call and give voice to my hurt....I just don't want to cause drama on such a special time for them so I remain quiet...and hurt.

Being a mother requires planning be involved rather than being able to fly by the seat of your pants. It takes time and effort to arrange childcare, time and effort to plan a child's necessary events such as dinner or naps into the day. Which I guess is why motherhood can so often be lonely. Others don't have to play by your rules, your timelines, leaving you holding the bag while everyone else is out playing.

hope and faith

My children, especially Erin, are interested in everything relating to God/Jesus. Each day at least 5 questions are thrown my way relating faith. This morning for instance the questions surrounded Erin's rosary.

Several questions about a rosary in which she loves. She began by explaining that Mary gave it to her and that she wants to take it to school to show everyone. She said she wanted to let everyone know about God.

She then asked why the rosary was special. Why Jesus was on it and why it was white. Then the questions became a little more complex. Well what are the prayers that go with the beads? Why won't the children at school understand what I'm talking about? Why don't you know all the prayers? Can you call Mary and get them...I know she knows. Well, why is Jesus on the cross instead of God? Why would his dad let him die?

I admire my daughter's enthusiasm concerning religion. Lately, I've even found myself wishing I possessed her faith.

The truth of the matter is that currently I'm disconnected. I'm angry, hurt, and lost.

I went to mow my aunt's grass the other day and re-entered the house only to find my daughter listening to the bible on CD. She was telling me all about it and demanded that the next time we visit she be allowed to listen to more.

She is thirsting for it, desiring it so deeply and I'm having trouble even talking to her about it.

This wouldn't be a huge problem if those that are filling the gaps were Catholic. However, they aren't and are beginning to teach my children things I don't want them to hear.

I don't want them to be afraid of their religion...their faith. I don't want them scared and the fire and brimstone isn't what I want for them.

I have difficulty in understanding religion based on fear. How can we promote peace and love if religion is based on fear and hatred of others?

So many take a negative view on Catholicism mainly because they aren't educated on what being Catholic truly means. I've even heard it said that Catholics aren't even Christian....by the way, that isn't true!

I want my children to have the option to truly embrace their religion. I want them to know what being Catholic means...and what it could mean to them. I'm encouraged by their willingness and desire to learn without me pushing it down their throat.

Beyond their own faith I want them to be knowledgeable about other faiths. I don't want them learning stereotypes and passing judgements upon others because of differences.

I want my children to embrace differences and see how much one can truly learn by opening yourself up to new things and new possibilities.

Catholicism after all didn't just fall in my lap. I wasn't raised Catholic. I was raised Southern Baptist which if you know anything about Christianity is about as far from each other as you can get and still be in the same religion.

I grew up with others voicing problems with Catholicism. However, I also grew up with the understanding that it's okay to be different.

My journey to faith was a long one. It took me a long time and a lot of reading to come to a place in which I felt comfortable choosing what I felt was right for me. I chose Catholicism.

Currently, however, I seem to be choosing nothing. I am finding it extremely difficult to connect with my faith. Just pray people keep telling me...but when you fear you aren't being heard or you question the very existence it makes it difficult to even pray.

With my struggle comes the difficulty to continue my responsibility of providing information for my children. My role to guide and teach them about their faith. Give them the tools to find their own path.

If I could simply climb this boulder in my path maybe I could better serve my children. Right now, I'm just working with hope. Hope that while I struggle my children won't. Hope that my children won't suffer because of my difficulties. Hope that someone/something will offer the insight and help I need to reconnect. Hope that this too shall pass.

a need to return

I've been rather hesitant as of late to write. It's almost like I'm afraid of it currently. I want to....have actually sat down several times with the intent and been unable to do so.

So many things have been happening. The girls finished their first season of soccer. Michael now has 10 teeth and two more working their way through. The girls had their first full day at their preschool/daycare. I've really started to hit the workouts hard (thanks to Ash!) and am feeling better because of it.

Also, mother's day came and went. Plus, my father-in-law is back in the hospital for the last of 3 heart surgeries.

With so many happenings I've found it difficult to commit to my love of putting paper to pen or hand to keyboard. However, it has come to the point in which I must force myself.

Time to get off the couch.....turn the TV off....and spend some time with my thoughts and daily happenings.

I mean what isn't fun to write/read about a mom who is dealing with faith issues while her children ask about God/Jesus 50 times a day? What isn't fun about dealing with twins who seem to fight every waking moment and are missing their daddy terribly? And finally....what isn't fun about a little boy who can't seem to get enough of life which leads to all kinds of bumps and bruises.

Top it all off with a near fight between myself and a daycare provider and you almost have a novel.

Yes, time to remind myself of the importance of spending some time with my daily happenings while hoping a couple readers will stop by and say hello.

Tomorrow....I hit the computer! Well, at least my fingers will hit the keyboard.

the journey home

Now, with 3 (well actually 2 considering after the first month I high-tailed it back to the beach) months under my belt in WV I'm beginning to realize it's going to take much more work to allow this place to become home.

Yes, it is nice having family so close. Granted, I don't see them very often. I do see my mother much much much more...and I get to spend many hours with my best friend. The remainder of the families....not so much.

I seem to be doing a rather good job of holing myself up in the house despite the fact I take the girls to school each day and take them to soccer twice a week. I talk to other mothers and I'm invited places, but it seems more often than not I don't end up going. Instead, I find myself at home or running around town with 3 kids and a best friend.

In many respects I like that....very much. My friend has her significant other hours away as well. It makes for a nice fit if you can figure out why a college student would want to hang out with a mother of 3. Granted, she isn't like most college students and thinks my kids rock....so of course we love her!

However, this wonderful time with her will end. Upon graduating she will soon leave the state for Georgia and we will be back to limited phone calls since neither of us are big on talking on the phone and emails. Sure there will be visits but it won't be the same.

She will begin the struggle of creating a new life much different from her current...and I back to figuring out how in the hell to recreate a life in the mountains.

You see, NC was very wonderful to me. After 2 years I managed to find my way. I began making friends, finding my niche, and creating a life.

Yes, I missed my family and wished we could see more of them. At the same time however I was grateful for the space. It, as many things, was a double edged sword.

In NC I managed to complete my college degree and found a desired path. I realized what I wanted to do with my life while there. I was taking steps to create a career I longed to have and now I'm back at the drawing board.

In NC I loved my church. Most of my friends came from this parish. It was this parish that allowed the beach to become home. They opened their arms and allowed me to offer what little I could, while offering opportunities to work towards my goals. I was involved.

I also was able to continue contact with several special ladies I came to love during college. These woman were working towards similar goals as I and we pushed each other, encouraged and helped one another.

It is true that the friendships you make in college are some of the most wonderful.

Now, contact is strained.

My current church/parish leaves me missing home. Attending mass is difficult. The family that is Catholic is rarely attending the same mass so I'm there with 3 kids alone. There aren't as many opportunities to be involved for someone in my position. The church is incredibly smaller and thus the activities provided.

I find myself doubting my faith as well as myself. I feel as if I'm incapable of parenting 3 children alone. I find myself back at the moment in which being yourself is difficult because so many don't know who that is. It's rather difficult to accept the new kid in town.

Granted, I usually don't make that easy. I'm a loner by nature. I would much rather be reading a book or writing than socializing. I'm a very blunt and open person yet very guarded. And, while I so enjoy my alone time I desire togetherness. I enjoy talking with friends yet so often I lack the ability to reach out.

I'm caught between the person I want to be and the person I need to be. I feel like someone is asking me who I am and the titles I give myself won't all fit in the box.

It took me 2 years to make NC home. In that time I moved twice and gave birth to twins. Only after those things happened was I able to branch out and even then it was only because a dear friend gave me the opportunity.

Right now, 2 years seems like a very very long time.

I believe the saying goes something like...change is good but never easy.

I guess I would agree with that.

my sweetest boy

Happy birthday my sweet baby boy. While I have enjoyed watching you grow I am also saddened to see the time passing so quickly. It seems only yesterday when I held my little boy in my arms and now you walk around and jibber jabber constantly.

Your sweet smile brightens each day and I am in constant awe of your laid back attitude and calm personality. I love that you must "figure out" how things work and take great pride in doing these things.

While so many seem to poke fun at the fact you are a "momma's boy" nothing could make this mother happier at this point. I know as you grow our connection will change and transform into something completely different but I am most happy to be your protection, comfort, and desired at this point.

Thank you child, you have truly awakened me to endless possibilities by doing nothing other than being yourself.

I look forward to what the future holds for you but I am hoping to savor this fleeting moment of my sweet wee one. Take your time growing up, because I am so enjoying it!

I love you son, now and always!

from the sporting world

The girls are playing soccer. The girls are only 4 and they are learning. Soccer this year ( our first but the second or third go around for other families) is more like a workshop. The kids come and are learning the fundamentals of the game.

They learn to properly dribble, pass, and kick the ball. They learn about not using your hands, they learn about being on a team.

I have noticed however that with my children entering the sporting world so come the parents with complaints. Oh my goodness, the constant complaints. Why aren't there teams? Why aren't we playing games instead of "learning"?

The parents are cheering from the sidelines as if a scholarship is on the line. "Come on Brandon, push to the goal....score...come on push." "Jill, get up off the ground and chase after that ball"

I, however, am excited the kids are learning. I'm a big supporter of keeping the competition down to a minimum since our children are so young. A 4 or 5 or even a 6 year old (in my opinion) doesn't need the pressures of winning and loosing.

I've been there....I have had "my game" critiqued on the ride home. If I had only ran faster, jumped higher...played better then maybe the game would have been won...not lost. What little child needs that?

How are good athletes made? Well the first response would probably be practice. And yes, that is necessary but so is FUNDAMENTALS!!!

Tiger Woods wouldn't be the amazing golfer he is today if he hadn't first learning how to properly hit the ball. Michael Jordan wouldn't have changed the face of basketball without learning to dribble the ball instead of just carrying it around.

I also believe that our children are too young to be separated, the good players and the not so good. Suddenly, your child is the last picked....the child who other parents complain about because "they aren't that good, they will cost us the game."

Try explaining to your 4 year old why they don't get to play with the other kids...why they just aren't "good enough".

Why is our country so enthusiastic about pushing our children to grow up so quickly? In the stores toddler clothes look more like teenagers clothing. In the schools kindergartners are bringing home hours of homework. On the sporting fields, children are forced to measure up or get out.

I'm glad that this year of soccer is about learning. I'm glad that my children have a chance to develop positive sportsmanship and a chance to learn what it is to be involved in the sporting world.

I want to keep my children just that, children. While I believe I hold high expectations for my girls I am trying very hard to remember they are just 4 years old. I try to use the time after soccer to instill good sportsmanship and the desire to learn. If they happen to turn into amazing soccer players along the way, wonderful. I, however, refuse to be a parent who fusses at their child from the sidelines pushing the thought that to be worth while you have to win.

Let's allow our children to have some fun...they have the rest of their lives to compete!

the passing of a single year

Today marks the one year anniversary of the shootings at Virginia Tech. Today I have found myself wondering about the students attending there...those that were there last year and those that are gone.

How much difference does a year make? Are there still students afraid...struggling to deal with the terrible happenings? Do they still find the panic that set in that memorable day? Can one year truly change someone, can you truly move on within a single year?

Today, I drove by this beautiful campus...today I saw the countless cars parked attending the memorials of the day. I saw the lights shinning bright over Lane Stadium. I found myself unable to forget the fear I felt one year ago. I found myself hoping that one year can make a difference and that within a single year the school is recovering...has recovered.

I have found that through all my cynicism and sarcasm I can still be rather idealistic. Perhaps the thought of a single year healing those affected is silly and simplistic. Perhaps I'm a little of both.

While I'm sure there are still struggles, may the sadness we feel reflecting upon that day and the heartache that is felt for those that lost their lives not be lost...may we use it in a way that makes us stronger and more willing to help our neighbors.

"Today, we are all Hokies."

once kids...now adults reconnecting

I've been rather reflective lately. Perhaps this is due to the fact that now that I'm in WV I'm interacting with many of those from my childhood. I'm talking and making plans with many of the people I have known since elementary school.

I wonder exactly how these people have changed, grown, and entered adulthood. I find it strange to think of us all as adults. I still remember playing kickball, basketball, and discussing if we should sit beside our boyfriends/girlfriends at lunch.

To think that we have now grown and had children of our own is mind boggling. I can't be that old...but then reality sets in as I see my girls chase after each other on their way to bed. I see my son walk across the floor landing on my leg in triumph. If I have grown and adapted into adulthood then it must mean we all have.

How did the time pass so quickly? How can it be that I've reached the age in which I'm not recognized by my favorite teacher of all time? Have I changed that much??? I know the answer, I see it each day I look into the mirror. I look nothing like I did then...and rightly so (I mean I have had 3 children!)

How exactly do you relate to someone whom you don't really know anymore? This woman is not the girl I jumped rope with...how can it be...she has a child. She speaks of marriage and children and careers. How can this man be the boy I shared my first kiss with? How can one of my dearest friends now be married and a pharmacist no less. How did this happen? Where did the years go??

What do they see when they look at me? What do I see when I look at them? Can those little kids we once were still ring true though our now very adult lives?

I know I have changed from the scrawny goofy child I was once but everything I was at that age still is contained within me. I still see her from time to time when I play with my girls. And, you know what....other people seem to see her in my girls. Just yesterday a woman from the girls preschool told their teacher "I swear these girls look just like a little girl that went to church with my kids years ago." Know what...I was that girl she remembered.

Perhaps those kids I remember from school can still be found within these new adult friends with their very adult lives. Maybe, just maybe when we visit and allow our children to play as we once did, we can catch a glimpse of the kids we used to be.

The only problem...what if those special memories we hold so dear have vanished in this adult life? What if the person we shared such special moments with just isn't that same person?

all in a day's work

Today was a pretty good day. If you forget the fact that I spent most of the day struggling to

breathe...thank you God for snow in April. Other than my sinuses on a rampage today was a step in the right direction for children and myself.

The day started with me preparing the girls for their first day of preschool here in WV. They were so excited they could barely stand it...and I too.

Off to school my little girls went without even a second glance my way. They were excited about learning. "Mommy I'll learn my alflabet", cheered Ireland. "And I'll show the teacher I can write my name." Erin squealed.

Within less than one minute I had officially dropped the girls off into another care and neither they nor I looked back. It was special...it was the way I had hoped.

Upon retrieving my little girls we spend a few hours playing and cleaning then off to our second day of soccer.

The first was...well...trying to say the least. There were tears shed and cries for daddy so I was unsure of what the evening would bring.

Luckily, no tears...instead laughter and questions on how to better play. Erin pelted the coach with questions, inquisitive about if she was preforming what he was teaching. Erin, currently is in love with learning. School...loves it. Soccer....loves it. She is just simply caught up in learning...which she and I are both eating up.

Ireland while excited about both school and soccer decided to spend some much needed time singing and dancing with a new found friend in the goal...instead of playing soccer for several minutes.

While I must point out I took great pride in the fact that I didn't fuss at her or plead with her to return playing...instead I smiled and laughed because in that moment she was the happiest I have seen her in a while. She was so beautiful in that moment.

With all this being said...maybe, just maybe there is hope for my children and I yet. Maybe we can survive each other and become better people because of one another. Maybe all we need is a little more structure and schedule to help us see that it's okay to smile and have fun if daddy can't be around just yet. I believe that the best is yet to come...and I'm overjoyed by the possibility.

small amounts of perspective

Today I helped my mother and aunt replace the winter flowers with spring flowers on our loved ones grave sites. It is a ritual that I've taken part in since I was a wee little girl.

I would venture with my grandmother as she would cut grass around the headstones, replace the flowers, and wipe down the stones if they were rather dirty.

She was one of the only people who cared enough to venture to the family cemetery to care for those long gone. It wasn't a place one could easily visit...if you didn't own a truck you were pretty much out of luck.

Since it was difficult to get to this area my grandmother decided she wouldn't be buried on the "homeplace" but rather would be buried in the Elgood cemetery. "The grave site will be better cared for," she would inform us. I suppose she was driving home the fact that she felt that caring for the stones and sites was of great importance to her.

This job has been overtaken by my mother who I must say does a great job. She takes great care in replacing the flowers with ones that are seasonally appropriate and caring for the overall appearance of the graves. This task while meaningful is full of emotion, it is a reminder that those we love are no longer with us.

Being that I am now a WV resident (oh Lord, did I just type that???) the caring of grave sites has re-entered my life.

I must admit I did not wish to go, didn't feel the need to make the drive, didn't want to face the graves. "That's why I'm being cremated," I protested to no one in particular.

I suppose the main reason I didn't wish to return was because I didn't want to face the fact that life goes on without those we have lost. I didn't want to face telling my daughters that this is where my great grand-grandparents were buried, or that my grandmother and grandfather are buried. I didn't want to explain that yes my grandparents were Nana's mom and dad. I didn't want to face the fact that my children will never know them.

However, I went...I faced the reality. I answered the hundred questions the girls asked. I tried to keep emotion out of it. I tried to be purposeful in my movements and thoughts. Then, my son wanting to explore used my grandparents headstone to stand...smiled largely and laid his head upon the stone. I fought back tears and tried to soak up the sweetness of the moment, fighting the sadness I began to feel.

My son later attempted to sharpen his teeth upon my great grandparents stone while his sisters continued to pelt me with never ending questions about death, dying, and cemeteries. It was a mixture of humor, sadness, and purpose.

It was a reminder that I have indeed "come home" even if my heart still sings to the ocean. It was a reminder of the wonderful memories I have of my childhood...memories full of family, fresh cut grass, laughter, and the thought that it is within the small moments that we find ourselves.

Welcome home Tiffany...welcome home.

no school, teething out the rear, and a broken chair to tie it all up

Currently I'm up to my ears in children. I was hoping the girls would be able to finish the school year in preschool (only half a day 5 days a week....would get them ready for the big start next school year.) but it seems that will only be a dream.

The school called yesterday to inform me that since they hadn't been in a school this year they didn't want them. She then quickly pushed daycare. I being at my wits end and just wanting something positive for my children informed her that no I was capable of caring for my children...they and I wanted school.

"But the daycare teaches letters and numbers," she insisted. I felt the need to point out that my children were doing very well with that...I wanted them to be able to progress...you know be more ready for next year.

I realize that she is making a judgement call but seriously she dismissed my children without even meeting them. Granted they may not be as prepared as other kids in the pre-school but then again they might already be ahead....she's never met them so how would she know?

So, now I'm back at square one with three children, the only caregiver, and a house that is in need of attention if I can just find time away from the needy said children.

Michael is massively clingy right now. He currently has three (yes that's right 3...at one time no less) teeth coming in so he is slobbering all over everything. He's pooping all the time and his nose is running a marathon. He doesn't seem to want me out of his sight much less doing anything but holding and comforting. I understand because cutting 3 teeth at once is enough to make my mouth hurt but I've got things that must must must get done.

Also, to make life more interesting I had a visit from a couple of friends (mother daughter pair) who wanted to surprise me with a visit. The surprise was indeed on me. Within 30 minutes of their visit the pregnant daughter sat on the arm of my chair and it broke.

This was dealt with the mother laughing and saying, "ah it's new you can return it."

Me, trying desperately to be nice and patient I kept my mouth closed. I wanted to scream because it isn't like I don't have enough on my plate without having to attempt to find a way to return a damaged chair. It isn't like I have a truck to return it plus the chair won't exactly fit in the van with 3 children inside.

I don't mind returning it, but to have the mom laugh it off as if it doesn't matter really hurt my feelings and made me angry. Breaking peoples things is never good but to act like it doesn't matter makes the situation worse.

When I visit some one's home and I or my wild children break something I offer to fix it or replace it at least.

I'm just frustrated because when something like this happens and you are dealing with friends how are you suppose to react? How should the situation be handled? Am I being silly or am I within my right to be irritated by the lack of respect for my home and possessions within said home?

I just want to be me

Upon pulling Erin's hair into pigtails which adds some cuteness to my sweet girl I asked Ireland if she would like to have her hair fixed before we left.

"No, I just want to be Ireland."

Works for me kid....I hope you are always able to fight the peer pressure.


---------------------------------------------------

In other news...the kids and I are back from our beach trip to visit with husband/daddy.
Wonderful visit all around but very sad to leave knowing it will be another month before we see him.

More to come...I'm just too tired from traveling and attempting to unpack. My bed is calling to me and my eyelids have informed me that if I sit here a moment longer they are going on strike. May tomorrow be full of energy....and some warm warm weather because I arrived home to snow flurries. Geesh, my whole vocabulary has to change now that snow has re-entered my life.

all things irish with massive amounts of confusion

Our children were given names in which we love and ones that mean very much to us. Being that today is a special holiday within our home (you know...being Irish and all) we ventured to explain the significance of our girls names.

Ireland....was completely lost and confused by the conversation.

"Ireland, you were named after the country Ireland. A place in which we love not only because it's part of our heritage but because of it's beauty and outlook on life."

"Mom, is it far far far far away?" Ireland questioned.

"Yes, you would have to ride an airplane for a long time over lots of water." explained Mom

"I want to meet her." Ireland said excited

"Honey, it isn't a person...it's a place." explained Mom.

"But mom, I want to meet my sister." huffed Ireland.

"It isn't your sister it's a place like North Carolina or West Virginia." attempted Mom.

"I want to go and meet her." shouted Ireland.

"Babe, it's not a girl." Dad said with laughter.

"So it's a boy?" Ireland said with disbelief.

"No, it's a place...like North Carolina or West Virginia." Mom offered.

"It's not fair...I want to meet my sister." Ireland exclaimed through desperation.


Maybe this year just isn't the year she understands the importance of her name.

Erin however, accepts the explanation. "Sweetie, your name is Gaelic for Ireland. You were named after the same country. So you and your sister kind of have the same name."

Maybe she just doesn't care as much or maybe this all stems from the fact that Erin's godmother is also named Erin, and Ireland....well is feeling left out.

Ireland, mommy and daddy want to take you to meet her so very much. One day sweetie...one day we will take you to visit your most beautiful namesake.

adventures in prayers

Mom, "okay girls finish brushing your teeth so we can get to bed."



Erin, "we can't forget to say prayers...people need prayers."



Mom, "okay hun, but get a move on...it's getting late."



Ireland, "Ok, I'll start. Michael, pop and gramma, and nana, and who else Erin?"



Erin, "daddy and mommy, michael, ireland, nana, ashwee, and don't forget God."

does a mom ever really get to leave the home?

I used to be one of three SAHM within my husband's family...now there is only I. The other two have found rewarding (at least I'm hoping) opportunities within their children's schools.

Each day they drop off their children and then stick around to teach and fulfill other responsibilities. They have found a way to continue being a hands on involved mom while also creating some cash flow and being something other than a crazed house mom.

I guess I'm slightly envious since most of my days still involve keeping a house from burning to the ground while it occupies my three children. All day I clean, prep food, clean, change diapers, clean...oh and did I mention clean.

Laugh as you may but that is mainly what I do each day. By the way, I'm very sick of cleaning. No matter how much I do there is always more. I just want to end the cycle.

There is however a problem I see. Returning to work doesn't end this cycle. As my lovely sister-in-law has pointed out she not only is working now but she is still having to complete all of her other duties at home.

I honestly believe that some of my husband and I's arguments are fueled by the existence of "he works, she doesn't" attitude. My husband would say he is the first to point out that what I do is difficult but I often wonder if this is believed.

If I was to return to work would the work at home suddenly become shared? Would dishes and laundry and bathroom cleaning become a partnership? I must point out that my husband does help with the dishes and will occasionally do a couple other chores so it isn't as if I am completely alone on the whole housework issue...but you get my point.

I also realize that there are some husbands out there that do the cleaning and even the cooking. I wonder though, with the housework as a whole will a wife always in some way be the stay-at-home spouse? Regardless of employment beyond the homes walls will she be the one who must carry the work within the walls?

Some of this I believe is our own fault. We have a certain way we want things accomplished, a certain place things must be put. When our spouses offer help with the dishes do we feel the need to make remarks when they don't know where the dishes go or because they don't load the dishwasher as we would wish or are unable to wipe down the counter as we would like do we feel as if they weren't really helping? "Well, if he really wanted to help he would do it the way he knows I like it done."

Are we in essence hitting a gift horse in the mouth? Would we rather short change ourselves by taking on more than we must or would we rather have help?

Do we have the right to complain when we scoff at help when it's offered simply because, "he won't do it right"?

I suppose there is no simple solution, so perfect answer. There however is hope that we can all work towards a more equal partnership in which both parent, clean, work, and hopefully have fun.

who could forget MJ?

Dad, "Time for bed, let's say prayers."

Ireland, "let's pray for people."

Dad, "okay, who do you want to pray for?"

Erin, "daddy, mommy, michael, nana, gramma, pop, umm..."

Ireland, "erin, michael, pop, nana...and of course Michael Jordan."

from story pusher to soccer mom...all in one day

I have 3 children...each with their own attitude, personality, and thrill for life. They each have a different way of taking in the world around them. All 3 with something to add to this world...but, what do I have to add to their life? What is it that I can share with them to incorporate a little of what it is that I love from life?

Currently, I share my love of reading. This love I've had since 3rd grade and well I still find myself buried in a book given the chance. Nothing beats a book that pulls at your emotions and leaves you excited to find what happens upon the following pages.

Each evening we read a portion of a book while sharing short stories from books throughout the day. Given that the girls and wee one seem to be in constant play mode getting them to sit still and listen while reading is very difficult. I'm never sure of their comprehension, but the way I look at it is that I'm laying building blocks. I'm offering them something a television or toy can not...I'm offering them a chance to explore the world through words without ever leaving the room. I'm offering them the ability to sit and be present in the moment...a chance to be quiet, patient, and open to possibility... anticipating the next page.

Finding ways to encourage reading is fairly simple. Last year for the girls' 4th birthday they began receiving Hi-5 as one of their gifts. For Christmas they received books along side their other treasures. For Easter this year they will get books for night reading and leapPad books so they can continue learning and hopefully learn how to read some on their own.

Wee one may be a little too small to appreciate a good book but he sure does seem to enjoy being read to and exploring the pictures upon the pages.

Reading isn't my only love however...which is why the girls are starting soccer this year and hopefully will enter ballet this fall. I want my children to enjoy a good book in between loving all things athletic...well maybe not all things but I want them to enjoy staying active.

So for this soccer mom...I'm going to continue pushing a few books my children's way and hope that eventually they learn what an incredible gift reading can be. Who knows, they might even find a favorite along the way.

an afternoon to remember

Have you ever experienced true wonder through the eyes of your child? Several days ago I ventured to the beach with all 3 kids for an afternoon of all things sand (hoping that I would get a moment to just sit and stare at the ocean....cause it apparently calms me more than anything else I've found).

Upon sitting wee one down he was filled with an incredible urge to explore. His eyes and hands first found the sand. He sat amazed by how it ran through his little hands. He picked it up, let it run through his hands, picked it up again, and finally attempted to throw some.

Then, very suddenly he looked up. It was as if everything else on this big world vanished. He saw it...the ocean. His eyes filled with what I can only call wonder and off he went...heading for the water at break neck speed.

It isn't like he hasn't seen it before...he spent most of the summer visiting with a couple visits this fall and winter. I suppose though that he wasn't old enough to truly be intrigued. This time however, he saw it...in all it's glory.

He crawled the fastest I've ever seen him move. Without distraction he made it so close before I grabbed him up because well cold wet babies mixed with sand is never really a fun idea.

Slowly I carried him back to where the girls sat playing. He never took his eyes off the water. He was enamored. The moment I sat him down off he went again. He did this three times before settling on sitting and simply watching it.

After a good 30 minutes he finally gave in to his sisters and began to demolish their buildings, finding great joy in manipulating the sand with his tiny fingers.

I must admit that his instant love with this small piece of the world filled me with great joy and great sadness. I was taking this away from him. He had just discovered its grandeur and amazement and here I would be pulling him back to WV.

We still have three weeks before we make the trek back to the mountains but I still feel very sad knowing that I will be leaving this special place that I love so much. I could easily be one of those hermits who live in a tent on the beach...well at least until summer was in full swing.

To see my son so mystified by this place only served to make me feel even more connected to him. Maybe, regardless of where we live my children will be beach bum babies. Maybe, someday we will live here again...in a world of swimsuits, sand, and that sweet ocean air.

Until then, moments like these will fill my thoughts giving me a peace I can't even begin to describe.

Plus, it isn't like living in WV is so bad...this spring will be filled with little girls learning soccer, hiking, and some wonderful family....and who knows maybe a beach visit or two.

(I tried several times to upload pictures from our outing but for some reason the computer won't allow me to upload.) Maybe later, I'll find a way...check back for photos.)

a world though eyes of a child

Being a mommy blogger I often focus on the obstacles I face with raising my 3 children. I muse about the mountains we are climbing as they seek independence and I long for morals and manners. I write about the hard stuff, the stuff that makes me want to pull out my hair. I do this because...well, parenting is a tough job and while I love my children beyond measure I don't want to be one of those parents who ignores that it's the most difficult job a person can have.

However, today I'm taking a break. No fussing, complaining, or worries today! Today I'm going to be one of those mom's who brag endlessly about the wonderfulness of their children. Today, is all things positive.

My oldest, Erin, is an aspiring thinker. With her beautiful smile and caring nature she opens up a world to me that I still can't believe is possible. She loves to read (or rather be read to I suppose) and amazes me with her willingness to learn.

She may have a twin but she knows that she is her own person and with that comes different desires than her sister may have in mind. She isn't afraid to choose a path different than those around her.

Erin is also an astounding big sister. She works to keep her twin in line (as well as her mom) while taking a caring and attentive attitude to wee one. She corrects us when we have said/done something wrong while finding much joy in making wee one laugh and giggle.

Ireland, my wonderful middle child is the never ending comedian. There isn't a day that she isn't making funny faces or sticking her tongue out in the hopes to get a laugh. She stage dives, tells jokes, and dances all to get a laugh.

Beyond laughter the kid loves to sing. She can repeat a melody with amazing precision. While very shy about her singing she will grace her brother with a song to calm him down or suddenly break into song if she believes no one is paying her any mind. She remembers complete songs and has even began to sing along with my french music while riding in the car.

She immediately knows what she likes and dislikes when it comes to music. She has no problem asking me to replay a song or informing me that we need to hear the next one, the current one just isn't cutting it...and I'm not talking kiddie music here folks. I'm talking greats...Clapton, Fleetwood Mac, Rolling Stones, BB King, Miles Davis...the list could go on but you get the point.

Ireland is also quite the athlete. Just now she was gracing us with the new found ability to stand on her head. She has little abs that would make grown women jealous and this is all with no push or comment from mom...she just enjoys all things athletic.

Michael, what can I say, he's my baby boy. With a smile that instantly melts my heart he has proven to be a good dose of testosterone to the house. He amazes us with his ability to figure things out. Give him a toy and it isn't all about fun....it's about finding what said toy does and how well it does it. He is rather fond of a shape sorter from his aunt given this talent.

He is a little explorer. Wee one is moving about so quickly these days. I know he will be walking in weeks possibly. He loves a good tickle and thinks that getting mommy to copy him is hysterical.

While he doesn't sing he loves to hear music. His head whips around if music should come on or his sisters begin to sing. He dances around as if music is the greatest thing to ever grace his life.

I love my children, there is no doubt. They have added something to my life that words can not describe. They grace me with so many things my life was missing before they entered this world. They teach me so much each day while challenging me along the way.

They remind me that this world is worth fighting for and that it's the simple things in life that are usually more worth while.

So, in the spirit of my kids.....forget the toys...give me a box and an imagination any day and I'll show you how the world can be a much better place.

what about terrible 4's?

The atmosphere in this household is...well...out of control. Each day the girls are in a fight before breakfast. Screaming, hair pulling, and even a few punches and shoves. It's crazy. I feel like a referee these days. Last evening they ended up on the floor rolling around wrestling because someone took a shoe off a doll.

Besides the incessant fighting we are having a major power struggle. I say no and the girls respond with a resounding yes while attempting to do as they wish. They have screaming fits when they do not get what they want, they have even kicked and smacked at me in the process.

I feel like I'm in a war zone and fighting for my very existence. The girls are going through a difficult time, this I know. Their father isn't around and they are definitely daddy's girls even if he or they try to deny it. They are living in a new home, and all that they have known for their short 4 years of life is different. So, I'm trying to have a little patience. My patience however...is wearing thin.

With each fight, with each screaming fit, with each tear for daddy my heart sinks a little more knowing that the only way to get through this is to stick to my guns. Continue to make them tow the line and behave in a manner that is appropriate. Which means sending them to time out each time they misbehave or taking something away from them each time they knowingly disobey, and yes even an occasional smack on the bottom when they really push the limits.

I don't like the look in their eyes when I must punish them. I don't like the fear they seem to possess. I know that fear only gets you so far and at some point if they fear me they won't seek me out when they need help for fear of my reaction.

I don't want to instill fear, I want to instill morals, manners, and the ability to listen. It just seems that for now punishment mixed with positive reinforcement is the best way to deal with the situation.

I also know that Easter this year...will be very low key as far as the bunny goes. Too much only seems to give my children a sense of false entitlement and the desire we are going for is gratitude and willingness to help others.

Parenting involves somewhat of a learning curve and hopefully Sean and I are quick studies because it's beginning to get deep around here.