I remember when my Saturdays consisted of taking one of the kids to a Gymboree class at our local mall and then we’d have the rest of the day free to shop, go to the park, or be lazy at home.  No more, my friends.

I have two little athletes now and we are busy, busy, busy.  Two weeks ago, Daniel was still doing basketball while he was starting T-ball.  And Annabel has dance class once a week and she just started her very first team sport…soccer!  I’m very thankful to have a husband who can be available in the early evenings to help with practice shuttling.  We are now booked every single Saturday with a game or a practice or birthday party. (Yeah, let’s just throw those birthday parties in there too.  My kids are WAY more popular than me or my husband.  My social life now consists of catching up with all my Mom friends in front of a bounce house.)

My husband and I have also started using these team sports to reinforce our family rules.  It’s more of a family motto: Be kind, helpful, hardworking, and fun.  I say it in the car each morning before school drop-off: Kind, Helpful, Hardworking, Fun.  And it really works for school.  They come home and tell us how they were kind, helpful, hardworking, and fun that day.   I’m hoping it reminds them to make good choices and enjoy learning new things.  And now we’ve modified the motto a bit for these team sports.  It’s especially important for my Annabel who is just entering this new arena.   She had a bit of a rough start with soccer practice because she didn’t want to run and work hard for an entire hour.  She tends to get a little lazy and was more interested in the “water breaks.”  But we reminded her that she wouldn’t get a star on her “star chart” if she didn’t follow our new family SPORTS rules:  No Crying, No Whining, Always Do Your Best, and Have Fun.

And it’s been working.  It worked great for this past Saturday’s game when Annabel fell and scraped her elbows and her knees.  First, serious props to her amazing coach who won’t let them quit!  I almost ran out on the field because she was limping and crying.  But in the end she was fine, just a little shaken and unmotivated.  During a break I reminded her about our new rules:  “No crying” and “no whining” and that she had to finish the game by “doing her best” and “having fun.”  She dried her tears, took a sip of water, ate a few goldfish crackers, and was back in the game.  She finished with a smile and, not only was I super proud of her, but she was proud of herself.  She was just so happy.  (Okay, it also could have been that cookie with icing from the snack mom, but I’ll take it!)

And with Daniel, these sports rules help to continually motivate him to do his best.  Sure, I know my little boy is motivated by the fact that he gets a new app for his iPad after he earns a certain amount of sports stars, but he has improved SO much since last year.  He’s confident, happy, and really loving his time on the basketball court and baseball field.  He works hard out there.  He gets so focused that he might get too competitive sometimes, so our new thing for him to work on is to support and cheer on his friends and not be a sore loser.

I always knew competitive sports would be a great way for my kids to stay healthy and learn to work with others, but I’m loving what they are learning about themselves.  That they’re stronger than they realized and that things that start off hard can turn out to be really, really fun.  Go, team!

One, two, three, four, five.  It feels like that.  So fast.  In a flash.  Another birthday.  Don’t move.  Don’t look now. But my BABY GIRL is FIVE.

 

And she will always be my baby.  The one who completed our family.  The one with the big eyes.  The one with the amazing head of curls.  The one with the biggest heart.  The one who runs from the car when she sees a friend so she can hold their hand.  The one who wants extra kisses for her pocket.  The one who says “I love you” all day long.  The one with the stubborn streak.  The one who loves ballet.  The one who loves music and knows all the words to every popular song.  The one who lovingly names every single one of her stuffed animals.  The one who loves pizza with fresh basil and black olives.  The one who adores her brother.

This one.

I still stare at her and can’t believe she’s mine.  She wants her independence but (thank goodness) she still wants to cuddle, hold my hand, and crawl into bed with me when she wakes up before the sun.  She likes to pick out her own clothes and shoes now.  She also asks to get her nails done.  She finally loves her bike and is excited to start soccer this spring.  She’s our little social butterfly who constantly talks about her friends. She loves to go on adventures and tells us she will live in New York City one day.

I remember the day you were born.  Every detail.  And now you’re five, Annabel.  One, two, three, four, five. Five.  FIVE.

Happy Birthday, baby girl.  I love you.

 

Sometimes milestones are just…funny.  Special thanks to our next door neighbor for the two pieces of Trident Tropical Twist chewing gum.  Man, I love my kids.

I brainwash tell my kids on a daily basis that they are best friends.  I also instill in Daniel that he has big brother duties.  He must watch out for his little sister.  I make sure he walks her to class in the morning and I watch him grab her hand as they meet me at the car in the afternoon.  I want them to always have each other’s back.  I want them to understand that their friendship is forever.  I think it’s working.

Everyone says, “It’s about the little things.”  And if you think about it, it doesn’t make much sense.  Shouldn’t IT be about the BIG things?  Like wedding days and your kid being born and a new job that made you move across the country?

Well, that “kid being born” part shifts your perspective straight to those “little things.”  Like a first step, first smile, first poop on the potty, first time sleeping through the night (Hallelujah!)

And what I didn’t realize until recently was that it’s also about MY little things. Like mastering the right bottle temperature, surviving my first Gymboree class, making new Mommy friends, remembering to buy strawberry milk because it’s Annabel’s first time with a new babysitter.

But one of my so-called “little things” has always felt really BIG: I don’t cook.  I just don’t enjoy it.  It is something that creates anxiety in me.  I mean, it’s just a pot (or a pan) and some water and some other ingredients, right?  What’s my drama?

My husband is an amazing chef in the kitchen, and he enjoys it, so it defaults to him.  But this Christmas break we were visiting my parents in Maryland and my husband went out with my Dad to the bar on some errands.  It was just me and the kids.  They had come inside from playing in the snow.   By the way, how awesome for my Florida babies to experience snowfall, snowmen, and snow angels for the first time?  They even pounded me with a bunch of snowballs, so we were all wet and chilly and drying off in the house.  And wouldn’t this be the PERFECT time for some hot chocolate?

I looked in the kitchen cabinets and my mom did not have any of that instant hot chocolate where you just “add water.”  But she did have an opened container of Hershey’s Cocoa powder with a hot chocolate recipe on the back.

“PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE” Hot Cocoa  (“Perfectly?” Yeah, not intimidating AT ALL.)

Skill Level:Beginner

Prep Time: 2 Minutes

Ingredients:

• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 2 to 3 teaspoons HERSHEY’S Cocoa
•  Dash salt
• 1 cup milk
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions:

Mix sugar, cocoa and salt in large mug.

Heat milk in microwave at HIGH (100%) 1-1/2 minutes or until hot.

Gradually add hot milk to cocoa mixture in mug, stirring until well blended.  Stir in vanilla. 1 serving.

 

I’m embarrassed to say that I almost told the kids we can’t make hot chocolate, but then I thought, “It says ‘Beginner.’  It says ‘microwave.’ YOU CAN DO THIS.”

And I did it!  And this “little thing” felt like the biggest accomplishment of the entire trip.   I followed the directions exactly as written while masking any self doubt along the way.  And somehow it all worked out and I made HOMEMADE hot chocolate with whipped cream on top! The kids loved it  They said it tasted GOOD! (Hallelujah!) And they will never really understand that this drink they finished in about 30 seconds gave me the best feeling ever.

I like you, “little things.”

In 2012…

Daniel lost these and this.

Annabel rode this.

I met a pop star.

I mourned a pop star.

I loved a new one.

And a country one.

And something red.

My men came back.

I enjoyed a new series.

And some new TV shows.

And new music.

We spent a week at the happiest place on earth.

And some time in another world.

And visited our favorite city.

The kids went to their very first concert.

Things ended.

Then, new things began.

I launched.

Annabel had TWO firsts.

We went back to the beach.

And back to school.

We were inside.

And outside.

I voted.

I donated.

My heart broke into a million pieces.

I reflected.  A LOT.  Then, reflected.  Again. And again.

Then the year ended on a high note!  Literally!  Annabel took her very first airplane ride when we went to visit family and friends in Washington, DC/MD over Christmas break.  She loved every minute of it.

My Florida kids also saw snow!  They tasted snowflakes (Annabel’s favorite), threw snowballs (Daniel’s favorite), and built their very first miniature snowman.  Complete with poker chip eyes (Thanks, Grandpa!) and a carrot nose, of course.

We spent “Noon” Year’s Eve back home with our great friends – a new tradition, which I love.  And we cheered to a brand new year.

And, man, am I ready for a brand new year.  2012 was a roller coaster year of emotions and emotional decisions for me and my family.  Some things I did not write about, but most things I did.  It’s therapeutic for me to pour my thoughts and feelings on this website and watch you agree (or disagree!)  It’s comforting when you tell me you understand.  Or that you’re angry too.  Or that you even like the same TV show I like.  Or you think I should DEFINITELY start a “Hot Guys Just Hanging Out and Looking Hot” Pinterest board. (Hi, Ryan!)

Thank you for coming back.  Thank you for your comments.  Happy New Year, friends.  Here’s to an exciting, yet peaceful, 2013.

I wanted to come back here to post a picture of Daniel’s certificate from his Mind Math class.  It was his first ever A+.  And post the pictures from Annabel’s Christmas dance recital.  She was a beautiful snowflake.   But then, everything changed. I’ve been existing in a dark, cloudy emotional space for the past three days.  There are parents, there are MOTHERS, who won’t be spending Christmas morning with their babies.  There were 20 beautiful children and several loving teachers taken away from us way too soon because of someone evil.  I should say “mentally ill,” but I just don’t feel like it.

I saw one of the little girl’s father on the news.  He was asking us to pray for the family of the shooter.  Of the evil one.  I just can’t do it. Not yet.

My husband came home early on Friday so we could pick up our kids in the carpool lane together.  Those were the longest 30 minutes of my life.  When I saw them running to the car, hand-in-hand with backpacks flying and big smiles on their faces, I almost broke down.  My eyes were already red and puffy and I tried to hide that.  I just hugged them.  Really hard.

I want to talk to their school.  I want to know what the plan is for something like this.  Is there a cabinet or a storage closet ready to go?  Does my kid’s teacher have someone with mental illness in their life?  Should there be an armed guard at the front door? Should I home school?

I want to scream to the heavens and ask, why, just WHY? I want to stop walking around in hazy circles.  I want to stop checking the news websites every hour waiting for updates and watching the children’s names emerge.  One is named Daniel.

It was a horrible day.   It continues to feel horrible.  I’m a mother and I just feel every mother’s pain.  It’s so deep that I can’t even imagine what they must feel.  I can’t imagine. I just pray.

I want to send them something.  I want to do something for them.  I want to hug them.  All of them.  I want to take my children and run away.  Or lock them in the house and never leave.   I want to take away all the guns.  I feel that it’s my job to protect them from this big, bad world.  I hate that I feel that way.

Instead, I will take them back to school in the morning.  With a heavier heart.  And a little more fear.  And also with immense gratitude.  And with so many questions running through my head.  And with the sadness that comes from living in a world that continues to chip away at our children’s innocence.