Coming to terms with milestones

With Logan turning one this Friday, I'm having a hard time coming to terms with this milestone. I know that might sound silly as I've gone through it before with Evan, and most parents are thrilled they survived the first year. And while all that is good and true, it also means that I no longer have a baby in the house.

It means that my snuggle sessions will start to diminish over the next couple of months to almost nothing (have I mentioned before that boys are constantly on the move?!?). It means that round two of the terrible twos are right around the corner. And that sweet baby smell that lingers in their hair no matter how dirty they get will soon be gone. It means that this will be my last year of firsts forever.

I've decided that we are perfect as a family of four and I don't want any more kids. Plus, my mind just can't wrap itself around having 3 boys in the family (because that would be what would happen if we tried for number three). And as much as I love my two beautiful sometimes angelic boys, this momma can't take any more testosterone in the house!

There are a lot of things I've come to appreciate with Logan that I didn't with Evan. I've relished in the tiny details that I often overlooked with my first. The way Logan fits in my arms when I'm rocking him at night and stares at me like I'm his whole world. Or how everything and I mean EVERYTHING has to go in his mouth for him to fully take it in. Or the way he smiles every time I walk in the room to get pick him up from his crib, to the way he rambles on in his baby language every night before he goes to sleep. The way his toes wrap around my fingers when I'm putting lotion on him. How he loves to play drop and see with his cup (and if you don't know what that is, it's when they drop their cup off their highchair to "see" if you'll pick it up). And how much he enjoys long walks in his stroller and waves to the cars as they go by. How every meal somehow winds up all over his face and hair and the joy that being that messy brings him.

I know the next year will bring with it its own memories and experiences that I will cherish, but there is something about that first year. So fresh, so new and so in awe with the world around them.

I can't say this past year has been a piece of cake or that I have this parenting thing down, but I can say that Logan has taught me to love deeper, to have more patience, and that I can multi-task with the best of them.

So for all my mommy friends out there, savor the small things in life because they add up to be big things when we look back. And here's to hoping I can keep it together as Logan blows out his first birthday candle this weekend.

 

11 months and loving it

My cutie

Adult Temper Tantrums

I'm almost too embarrassed and ashamed to admit this, but I had a full blown adult temper tantrum last night. And the worse thing about it was it was directed at Evan. A three year old, that I may have scarred for life! In all seriousness though, I wanted to come clean about my behavior because as parents we can have melt downs too!

I had the kind of day yesterday that made me envision walking in the door when I got home from work, grabbing the closest wine or liquor bottle and drinking said drink straight from the bottle. Screw a glass or a mixer, I needed something to numb the day's stress away and way to release all of the built up frustration and anger. Everything I did yesterday seemed to go wrong, and it didn’t end at work. I walked in the door after getting off work, only to be greeted by a crying baby and Evan yelling at me to go away (talk about making me feel welcome)! As I tried to calm both boys, John walked up behind me and kissed me goodbye so he could go meet up with boys for a night of baseball and beer. Needless to say, my stress level was through the roof and the night had only just begun.

I was thankful I was smart enough to have dinner going in the Crockpot so I at least I didn't' have to mess with that. As any parent will tell you a hungry child equals a cranky child, and I had two of them on my hands. As I made our plates up to put them on the table, Evan kept telling me he didn't want what I was putting on his plate, and instead he wanted Mac and Cheese. After the third time I ignored his request, he decided to get up and throw his cup of milk across the room. Which meant that the next 20 minutes was a wrestling match on keeping him in time out and trying to tame melt down number two of the night. This all took place while Logan was crying because I dared to go in the other room without him.

After we got all got through dinner, and I say that loosely as I still don't think any of us really ate, I thought we could all benefit from a walk. I went out in the garage to find that the double stroller wasn't there (it was in John's trunk). Which cued melt down number three to start with Evan. I tried convincing him we could still have fun in the backyard but he wasn't hearing it, and was melting down even more the more I tried to reason with him. Being the parent of two young boys, when one kid starts crying it usually isn't long until the second kid starts crying. So guess what happened next? Logan started to lose it too. Can you say fun times at the Chilcoat household ?!?

After I corralled the boys back into the house and got them semi interested in their toys I sat down on the floor to take a moment to regroup. I think I spaced out for a minute or two (probably day dreaming about the big glass of wine I was going to pour after they went to bed) when I hear Logan shriek in pain and start to bawl. I'm talking the kind of cry that every other sob is silent. Not a good thing! I look up to find Evan standing over him with a big Tonka trunk that he had obviously just whacked him with on the head. And that is the moment that I lost it! There was screaming, crying, and lots of foot stomping going on and it wasn't by the kids. It was all me!

It was not my finest moment of being a mom. In fact, I hated the look I saw in Evan's eyes over my moment of insanity. His look is what snapped me out of my craziness and I had enough sense about me to walk out in the backyard for a breath of fresh air and let it all out. In that one moment I cried like a little girl. The ugly, no holds bar cry that makes your whole body shake. Partly from my bad day, partly from feeling like a horrible mom, and partly because of guilt over my temper tantrum.

I pulled myself together walked back in the house and immediately called Evan over to me and apologized. I hugged him so tight I was afraid I was going to squeeze all the air out of him. But, a cool thing happened in that moment. Evan understood me and hugged me back equally as tight and told me he was sorry. Sorry for being a bad boy and sorry I had a bad day. In that moment, I felt the unconditional love that I have showered on him from day one coming back at me and it made everything in my world seem ok.

So, I write this post to let you know it's ok to break down every now and then with your kids. We are all human and we are all doing our best. Just keep chugging along and loving your kids with all your heart and it will all work out. And don't forget to keep a bottle of your favorite drink on hand for everyone's sanity ;)