Brothers

I could blog a thousand times a day, everyday, on the subject of brothers. I don't think I can come up with anything cuter than two little boys loving up on each other. Well, maybe if you toss a few more boys in there to love up on their brothers... Alas, Dan is quite adamant that he is done as far as having more kids goes.

So anyway, I'll enjoy watching the two I have. Just this morning Simon was cranking away because his teeth (or maybe it's his ears, or maybe I'm just paranoid again) are bothering him and there goes Jesse, running to make sure Simon is going to be ok, "It's ok, Soimon!" in his sweet, little voice.

Melt my heart.

It's just lovely to see how much they enjoy each other. Even when Jesse says that Simon is "on him" or being a pain, he says it with a twinkle in his eye. And when Simon is pinching Jesse, he's usually smiling away when he is doing it. Wait, maybe that's not the same thing. Hmmm...

Take a compliment

Mark Twain said, "I can live for two months on a good compliment."

What's the best compliment you've received lately? Ever?

In November I took Jesse for a haircut. Simon tagged along. Jesse sat so nicely draped in his racecar robe while the girl trimmed his hair. Meanwhile I sat in a chair with an overhead hair dryer chatting with the stylists while I snuggled, kissed and munched on Simon. About 10 minutes in, the owner of the shop stopped working on the head of hair in front of her and said to me with a huge smile, "It's obvious you really enjoy your children."

Wow. What a compliment.

When Jesse is on my last nerve and Simon's whining seems unending, I remember that compliment and try to enjoy my children as much as I do on a good day when everyone's happy and full of smiles.

What have you been complimented on? Take that compliment to heart. Next time you're frustrated or pissed off, next time you screw something up or feel like nothing can go your way, when that moody friend stops talking to you for no apparent reason, your husband acts like a total dolt, your mother gets on your nerves, your boss is a pain... Think of your best compliment. Take heart! You are good at something, you are a good person, you do something well.

Take a compliment.

Tattooed

I did it. A while ago, actually. But I realize I never updated here.

In January I got a tattoo. My "first tattoo" as Dawn, the woman who inked me, told me to refer to it as. She said it is hard for most to stop at one and I can see that. It was easy to do and I absolutely love my tattoo!

It all started last June. Scratch that. It actually started in June 1993. I went on a trip with my girlfriends to Ocean City, MD after we graduated from high school. I was 17. That trip was a blast. Wow, to be young again. But I digress... While at the beach, I considered getting a tattoo on my ankle. We went to the tattoo shop and I looked around. I had no idea what I wanted to get, I just wanted to get something. I was young, tanned, free, on a crazy summer trip with good friends, I needed to do something wild!

Then I thought about it. Did I really want Tweety Bird on my ankle on my wedding day? Or for the rest of my life for that matter? I was thinking no. So I decided to wait 6 months and if I still wanted the tattoo then I would get it. If not, then I would skip it.

Needless to say, once I returned home from the beach, I knew immediately I definitely did not want a tattoo. To be honest, I've never really been a fan. And then there was my mother to deal with. She actually told us girls to come home pregnant before coming home with a tattoo. She's not a fan either.

Fast forward 15 years to June 2008. My second baby boy was just 3 months old and I had been lamenting the fact that I was done having babies because it was practical and not because it was what was in my heart. Somehow this feeling worked its way into my head so deeply that I awoke one morning after dreaming that I had gotten my boys' names tattooed on my left wrist. The dream was so real that I started to consider getting a tattoo for my boys. While I am no longer a fan of Tweety Bird, will there ever come a day I will regret my children? I think not. The seed had been planted.

Still, being me - deliberate and practical to a fault - I decided to follow the same 6 month rule I observed as a teen. When I told Dan about it all, he suggested I get my tattoo as my Christmas gift if I decided I still wanted it in December.

For months I searched the internet for ideas, drew pictures, looked at photos of other tattoos, asked for opinions and ideas. And then one day, there it was. As soon as I saw it, I knew that was it. The symbol I wanted to honor my boys with. It's from some Australian organization - Barnardos - for a Mother of the Year award. I don't know the specifics, but when I saw the symbol of the mother gently cradling her babe against her breast, it made me think of nursing my boys, of holding them close, their warm body snuggled against mine, eyes locked in that gaze... That was it. That was what I wanted.

So in January, I did it. Dan came with me. I went to Dawn at Art Fx and got inked. It didn't hurt the way I thought it would. It felt like bee stings. A lot of them. It was less bearable when she didn't let up for a while, but it was mostly just annoying. I ate a lot of Dum Dums while she did it. Within 20 minutes of sitting down in the chair, it was done. Immediately, I loved it. I couldn't stop looking at it or touching it. It took a lot longer to heal than I expected or was told and I think it actually scarred a bit on one end. But it doesn't change how it looks.

I'm past the stage where I'm constantly touching it or looking at it every 13.5 seconds. Jesse hasn't asked for weeks when my tattoo will come off. Now it's just a part of me. Part of who I am. Just like my boys.

No regrets.

Happy (almost) birthday, Baby!

Wow. Where to start?

Today is the anniversary of the day that was supposed to be Simon's birthday. Our favorite midwife, Shannon, wasn't working that Monday so we moved the date of my cesarean to Tuesday, March 4, 2008, so Shannon would be there to be with us in the operating room with Dr. Kaminski to welcome our baby boy into the world. It seemed fitting also that Simon would be born on his brother's original estimated due date. We had looked forward to March 4, 2006, as the day around which we would become first time parents, never expecting for two full weeks to pass after that date before Jesse came to be with us.

It's hard to believe an entire year has passed since Simon's birth. It has been the fastest year of my life. Time started flying once we became parents, but the two years it was just Dan and me and Jesse definitely passed much slower than the time does when you've got two little ones to chase after. What a year it's been though! Simon is so different from Jesse. He's changed my few expectations over and over, teaching me - yet again - that I am no longer in charge and life is better when I follow the lead of my children.

I still carry many scars from Jesse's birth. It's not something that I will ever "get over" and move on from. I changed too much over the course of those three days of labor and I have yet to completely face my feelings regarding his entrance into the world. But I started my path to healing on the day Simon came to be.

Leading up to Simon's birth was agonizing. I had many fears. Would he cry? Would his lungs work? What if some freak accident happened and we came close to losing another baby? Would I be able to handle more? What if he ended up in the NICU like Jesse did? How would we make that work, could I go back to the NICU again without all those memories of Jesse's start rushing back in?

And then he was born. And he cried. And it was as though the sun was rising for the first time. Everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok. I wasn't going to be defined by Jesse's birth anymore. It wasn't going to have the same hold on me that it did before. It's still there, still a part of who I am, nothing will change it. But Simon's birth lifted a fog of sorts that I had been in for almost two years. It was a new beginning.

And here we are one day away from the anniversary of that date. Simon joined our family one year ago. How can that be? It seems he was only born a few short months ago and it seems we've known him forever at the same time.

He's my chunky, lovable, adorable boy. I love his dark eyes and light, wispy hair. His whispering "dat dat dat" and light squeals welcome me every morning, reminding me that I am beyond blessed with yet another gorgeous boy to love and hold. Even overnight when I am exhausted from nursing every few hours, I thank God for the warm little body snuggled up against mine, his grunty little sounds as he feverishly sucks for more milk, his sweet smelling head and little chubby fingers holding tight to mine. I have been blessed with the most precious gift again.

In one year, Simon has gone from being a skinny little spider monkey with long chicken legs to a solid big guy who steals hearts wherever he goes. In his early days, when I was convinced he'd never latch to nurse and I was pumping and finger feeding him with a syringe, barely sleeping, frustrated, exhausted, discouraged... I never looked forward far enough to see where we'd be today. I plugged through one minute, one hour, one day at a time never realizing a year later he'd be a happy, healthy, beautiful boy, fed for 9 months exclusively by my milk, passionate to see me at the end of a work day to reconnect, content to lie snuggled against me as he sleeps.

Simon, you are my precious boy. I love you more than I can ever express in words. You've turned my life upside down again in a good way. You're a joy to be with. A pleasure to mother. My life is complete with you in it. You are my second born, but you are never second in my heart. I love you, Bubba. Happy birthday.

What beautiful boys!

Allow me to brag for a bit.

Last weekend we went down to Phipps Conservatory to see if we could get some pictures of the kids for our Christmas cards. Simon's 9 month birthday was yesterday so this doubled as his 9 month photo shoot. My girlfriend, Christy, who has recently started her own photography business came with us since her eye and equipment are far superior to my own.

Phipps was done up beautifully! I spent so much time taking it all in and encouraging the kids to look at Christy that I didn't take many of my own pictures of the decorations. I hope we can get back again before they take down the holiday decor and re-do the Thai gardens. It was peaceful and gorgeous and I'm sorry we haven't taken advantage of the gardens more often. Jesse had a good time running through the mazes and Simon liked exploring everything around him, including the dirt. Ah, boys and dirt! A match made in heaven!

I can't believe my Simon is 9 months old already! Yesterday I was off work and took the boys to Lilliput for a playdate with BFF (the group that spun-off from MoMo when it went bust a few days before Thanksgiving) and then to the pediatrician's for Simon's 9 month checkup. He's doing so well! He's a shorty - 27.5 inches long - but a chunker - 22 pounds on the nose. Jesse is 33 pounds. Almost time to turn him forward facing in his Boulevard since it only rear faces to 35 pounds. Both boys received a thimerisol-free flu vaccination. Neither boy shed a tear or made a peep with their injection. Freaky, huh?

Anyway, enjoy a sampling of the pictures Christy took. I love them! She really caught the boys' personalities!

It's like looking at a baby picture of me!

I love this one! Dear Santa: Bring me all the toys or Baby Brother gets it! Love, Jesse

On having a second baby...

Simon lights up when Jesse comes in the room. He seriously almost gives himself whiplash trying to keep his eyes on every single thing Jesse is doing. Jesse puts on a show, dancing around, squealing and giggling, "He thinks I'm funny, Mama!" He sure does. For every time Jesse whips a toy from Simon's hands leaving Simon with a bewildered look on his face or when I hear Jesse shout, "No, Simon, I was playing with that first!" there are countless moments when I will hear Jesse trying to comfort a crying baby, "Don't cry, Simon. I'm right here!" or I hear the sound he makes when he gives a kiss and I hear, "I love you, brother." Oh holy hell!

I was amazingly worried about rocking Jesse's world with his brother. He was our life before Simon arrived. He was our miracle baby, our gift from God. How could any child compare? What on earth were we thinking wanting to have another? How would Jesse react to another child vying for our affections? In the days leading up to Simon's birth, I spoiled the heck out of Jesse, taking him for special trips, buying him toys, snuggling with him on the couch, lavishing him with every second of attention I could, second guessing our decision to have a second child the entire time. He'd "wisten" to his "baby brudder" with the stethoscope on my belly and giggle when Simon would kick. I'd ask if he was ready to meet his baby and he'd say yes, but I knew it was not the right choice and his world would never be the same.

I was right, his world will never be the same. But not in the way I was thinking. It's better. When I birthed his brother, I birthed his best friend, his favorite playmate, his punching bag, one to make him his punching bag... good, bad or ugly, Simon is not only a gift to us, he is the best gift we could ever give Jesse.

Brotherly love

Make my heart melt, why don't you?