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Sam, Sam, My Sam I Am......Happy First Birthday!!
(And first, may I say, I am sorry to you, my third child. I feel I will perpetually be behind on things for you. I apologize for it in this instance and for all future occurrences.)
What a truly amazing year this has been. Amazingly fast, crazy, emotional, wonderful, challenging, and rewarding. And you, my little munchkin, are amazing in and of yourself.
It is hard to believe that a little over a year ago our lives were absolute insanity. And then you came along, and it got a little less insane. Oh, it got crazier for a while, finding a way to fit a whole new person and routine into our lives, but because it was YOU, it was also calmer.
Sam, you are truly a miracle for me. In many, many ways. When I got pregnant with you, I was so nervous. Having just been through a miscarriage, I was terrified that something, anything would go wrong and I would lose you. I didn’t feel at peace until you were born and I was holding you in my arms. Only then did I believe that my body was okay, that it wouldn’t necessarily fail me forevermore. That maybe I was healed. Miracle.
Then there is your totally laid-back personality. You could have been a colicky baby, one who never slept, one who needed to be held all the time, one who would have thrown this home (and this mommy) into complete chaos. But you weren’t. You were the baby that makes people want to have ten more babies, that thinks they CAN have ten more babies. You didn’t even cry during your diaper changes in the hospital. You would sleep peacefully in the kitchen while your brother and sister ran by screaming, or singing, or banging a drum. You are the only one who will sleep anywhere, anytime. In the car, stroller, my arms, my bed, naptime, after skipping a nap, late bedtime, whatever. Nothing phases you. And a couple of weeks ago when I decided to see if you would be okay without a bottle, you gave it up without even a peep. So now we are done with bottles. Easy-peasy. Miracle.
Sam, you are evidence to me that there is a God out there, and he or she really doesn’t give you any more in life than you can handle. With all of the craziness and uncertainty that we already had in our lives, I don’t know if my sanity would have survived a so-called “difficult” or “high-maintenance” baby. I really think I might have cracked. I got so lucky, I had a baby that barely even cried. Miracle.
So Sam, for your first birthday I say thank you for the amazing gift that you have given to me. You. You came along at exactly the right time, showing me that maybe there was a little lemonade to come out of all those freaking lemons that life was hurling at me. You’ve been so easy, so low-key, taking whatever comes your way. Maybe you just know that, as the third child, this is your place in the family. You will forever be following in the footsteps of your bossy older sister and very loud and always running big brother.
Maybe one day you will find your voice and start telling me, “No” and hitting your siblings. But maybe, just maybe, you will stay mellow, quietly observing everything and everyone around you. Looking up and giving me that sweet little grin before going back to playing with your blocks, or other favorite toy. Only time will tell.
But for now I say Happy Birthday Sam I Am.....thank you little man for being the most amazing gift I could have ever received. I am eternally grateful to you.
My Georgia,
This letter is in honor of your fifth birthday. FIVE! You are finally five, and you looked forward to that day for so long. Like something magical will happen over night and, suddenly, WOW! life is totally different, perfect. At least for a five year old.
You are such unique and truly magical girl. I love every little thing about you. You are so smart, crazy smart, and I have no idea how that little brain is able to come up with the questions and things that you say. You make me laugh....you have such a great sense of humor. And you are kind, even to Noah, as much as he drives you crazy. I see how much you love him, and know that you would do anything to take care of him and Sam. You are a wonderful big sister, and both of your brothers’ eyes just light up when you are around. They want to be just like “Jaja.”
I can not believe it has been 5 years since you were born and I set off on this wondrous journey of motherhood. They have been 5 unbelievably amazing and challenging years, ones that have taught me more about myself than I ever thought was possible. When you were born, I was so excited to be a mommy, to bring home this little girl and give her all the love in the world. And oh, how I love you.
Georgia, with this and every other birthday you have had, YOU have given ME the most precious and unexpected gift. You have made me a mother, mom, mommy, momma. I thought I knew what that was before you were born, but I really had no idea the depth of meaning in that title. And what an honor it was to have it bestowed upon me. You are my first child....the one who has to figure out this motherhood thing with me, who has to put up with my learning curve, my mistakes, my fumbles. And for that I apologize. You deserve a mommy who knows all the answers to the mind-boggling questions you have, who doesn’t yell, who can handle whatever life throws at her without freaking out.
But I also think that our relationship is so special because we are learning how to do this together, stumbling down this mother-daughter path, holding onto each other, and trying not to get too lost. When I think of us, I often go back to the word of a song that I listened to when I was pregnant with you, imagining what was to come.
My First Child by Nil Lara
I have a song
Growing inside
I've seen the response of God in me
Coming to life
Kicking me strong
Draining my blood
You're my first child
I'll show you no harm
I'll teach you my love
Waking at night
Wanting caress
I'll keep you warm beside my bed
Together we'll rest
Deep in your sleep
My body's your glove
You're my first child
I'll show you no harm
I'll teach you my love
Smelling my skin
Feeling my face
I'll feed you each and every time
You cry into space
Holding my hands
Clutching my heart
You're my first child
I'll show you no harm
I'll teach you my love
Growing away
Taking my soul
You're my first child
I'll lose you someday
To some other love
Oh, how true these words are. I will savor each and every day that we have together, before you grow up too much and realize that your mom is not cool, you want to be dropped off down the street, and you are texting on your cell phone non-stop. Those days will come too soon, and I am sure they will make my heart ache.
But right now you are still my little girl, my FIVE YEAR OLD little girl! (FIVE!!) And I will continue to treasure you and all that you still have to teach me about being a mom.
Thank you Georgia, my first child, for giving me the most important job I will ever have. I love you so much.
Love,
Mommy
I have officially lost my mind. Lost it. It is so far gone, I have no idea where to begin to look for it. I truly discovered this fact this past weekend when I was out running errands with my daughter.
I wasn’t feeling great, it was ridiculously cold outside, and they were calling for snow. But I promised Georgia I would take her to the party store to pick out stuff for her birthday parties. So off we went after lunch to pick out Barbie everything for the glorious bounce-fest we are hosting next weekend. We went through the store, got what we needed, and walked outside to find cars and road covered in snow. I was desperate for a cup of coffee, so I decided to go to the Starbucks drive-thru on the way home.
Now since it was snowing pretty hard and colder than the tundra, there was quite a line. Fine, I could wait. I was not getting myself and Georgia out of the car for coffee when we could be cozy and warm. So after about 5-6 minutes I am the next car to pull up to the pick-up window. I see the cashier hand a cup to the driver in front of me, and suddenly I have giant brain fart. HUGE! What did I order? Did I order? Do I just order and pick up at the same window? Mind you, I have been to this one before so I am familiar with the process......and it is the same as EVERY OTHER FREAKING DRIVE-THRU ON THE PLANET!!!!! It isn’t rocket science, right? Pull up to Charlie-Brown’s-teacher-sounding speaker, tell face-less voice what I would like, drive around to funny folding-door window, give cashier (who now has a face) money, and receive hot caffeinated beverage.
But somehow that was WAAAAAAAYYYYY to complicated for my brain that afternoon. It hit me that I never put down my window to order anything. I sat in my warm car, mindlessly staring at the menu, trying to figure out whether a grande coffee with non-fat milk or a tall skim latte was better for me (by the way, there’s an app for that), and then I just drove on by. It didn’t hit me until I was about to pull up to that window to NOT receive my drink. And I was so flabbergasted that I just pulled out of line and headed home. Without the necessary caffeine, and now wondering if I had the brain capacity to operate heavy machinery.
There are all these articles about “baby-brain” and how new mothers walk around in a fog, forgetting little details, No one tells you that when that child is pulled out of you that it is COATED IN YOUR BRAIN CELLS!!! Yes, COVERED! And you will never, ever get them back.
This is all well and good for people out there with one child. I have three......THREE! Which means I am about 10 brain cells away from a paramecium. You know, those single-cell organisms in your 6th grade science books? The ones that never did anything but waddle around covered in tiny little hairs?
That is me.
So I guess what I need to know is if anyone out there has some marbles to spare, cause I seem to have totally lost mine. Anyone?
So it has been quite a while since I have written anything about my life. It has been a crazy 5 weeks since my Noah's birthday, and while I have often wanted to sit down and blog out some of the insanity, I just haven't had the time or energy to try to think in coherent and complete sentences.
But now I am getting back there. I know a few people who blog, and who really love it. Their blogs are like a part of them, another child in their lives, something they care about. I never really got it. I mean, I felt better after writing about all of the craziness, but I didn't care if it had been a while since I had written. But after this drought I finally understand. I missed writing. I missed the catharsis that comes from purging your mind and heart of all of the crap and insanity that life brings on a daily basis. I missed it so much. I tried so many times to sit down and start writing, but I just had no idea where to begin.
So here is a quick synopsis. My mother-in-law fell and fractured her ankle on the day she was to fly to our house from London. Fractured it so badly that she needed surgery and had to fly back to her home and miss Thanksgiving and celebrating Noah's birthday with us. My grandmother lost her year-long battle with cancer. We came together as a family and celebrated the amazing woman that she had been, all the wonderful memories that she left us. We celebrated Hanukkah and Christmas together, watching our kids have so much fun enjoying the lights, candles, presents, and time together. We had 2 weeks off from school, during which we all got completely sick of each other. We took Sam to the ER after falling off of the exam table at the pediatrician's office, during which I came as close as I can imagine I could to a complete nervous breakdown. I was literally hysterical, but Sam was smiling through it all, even the CAT scan. Thank God everything was perfectly fine. We had a great New Year's party with great friends, old, and not-so-old.
So here we are.....a new year, a new decade, the time to start anew. So I will be making more time to write, among other things that make me feel better. In fact, I have a little project I just started working on. I am hoping to work up the confidence to share it (all) publicly, but I will be putting it into writing so that I can hold myself accountable.
I have decided New Year's Day is the universal equivalent of the Confession booth. You can either stay up till midnight and drink champagne, or say 3 Hail Marys and a Our Father: either way you come out with a clean slate and a chance to do better this time.
Here's to a clean slate for us all.
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