Holy rusted metal, Batman!

Throwing parties for my boys is my favorite.  I know there will come a time when they grow out of themed birthdays and maybe that's why I go over the top every chance I get because I know one day they'll be like, "Come on mom, I just want to go to the lake with my friends."   And I will sit in a pile of colored streamers and mourning the days when I was making monsters and Elmo faces, and creating superheroes and spaceships out of paper lanterns.

But for now, my boy is four.  And themed birthday parties still reign supreme.  This year was no exception. 

Jacob has been infatuated with Batman for months.  He was Batman for Halloween and he wants to watch all the Batman things on Netflix, though I have to find the ones that aren't as creepy, because Batman is a little dark ya'll.  They watch the old Batman movies from the 90's (with the exception of Batman Returns, mostly because I can't even handle The Penguin and how freaky that movie is).  My boys love the cheesy George Clooney rendition with The Freeze and Poison Ivy and where both Batman and Robin have visible nipples on their suits.  Like, really?

Anyway, Batman was the natural choice for birthday party number four for my little guy and I began planning all things black and yellow. 

 

And then, I happened upon the best thing ever.  Batman, himself. 

Thanks to the world of Facebook, I found the most awesome guy in our local area, The Batman of San Antonio.  He is an active member of the community, visiting hospitals, schools and heads up fundraisers for sick kiddoes.  I mean, he is pretty amazing.  And as a bonus, he makes appearances at birthday parties and of course, I had to make this happen.  I made arrangements with Batman and I couldn't wait to surprise my boy.

When Batman came in, Jacob had a look of shock, confusion and awe on his face.  It took him a while to warm up to him and some of our younger party guests totally freaked out.  Batman is a little intimidating I suppose with the dark mask and all.  Batman came with presents for Jacob and treasures for all the kids.  He told stories and answered questions and stuck around to take plenty of pictures.  He sang Happy Birthday with us and made Jacob's birthday absolutely unforgettable!  The Batman of San Antonio's motto is "Be the change."  He encourages everyone to be a positive change in the world and to live in a way that inspires good and kindness in others and I love that he came to share in Jacob's day.

I've loved listening to him tell people that Batman came to his birthday party, and Batman was in his house and Batman gave him presents.  Seriously, my mama's heart explodes creating these fun memories for my boys!  Also, now my kid knows that I personally know Batman and I feel like this gives me the upper hand somehow.

"Always be yourself.  Unless you can be Batman.  Then, always be Batman."

Mothering the Wild

He still crawls up into my lap each night after his bath and brushing of his teeth.  He sits there with his soft blue blanket and ragged white puppy and asks me to sing to him.  I sing the familiar lullabies softly in his ear, my chin on his head, cradling his little boy self in my arms.  Sometimes he sings with me, others he lays quiet on my chest reminding me of his infancy when he would finally still in my arms after a long day of what seemed like endless fussing and crying.

Jacob is a wild mess of sweaty blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes full of mischief and a wonder, and he has a smile that could light up a whole room all on its own.  He is adorable and he knows it.  Most days, he is running from one end of our house to the other dressed as Captain America or Batman off to save the day and take down the bad guy.  I’ve lost count of the walls and surfaces he has managed to color on, the remnants of his scribbles still found in my kitchen and our dining room table.  Dark, black permanent marker and bright red crayon, sharp jagged marks and hard lines that reflect his aggression and intensity.

He is my second born and couldn’t be more different than my older son both in looks and spirit.  He pushes back against every rule, feels everything with intense and strong emotion and requires much one-on-one time and attention.  He needs a large amount of activity every day to get out all of the energy he has in his tiny little body.  And he throws fits – big, large nasty ones that involve throwing, hitting, scratching and kicking, though now he has at least directed that aggression into objects instead of people.  Progress!

Many labels have already been put on my Jacob.  Strong-willed.  Passionate.  Spirited.  Energetic.  And more negative labels like defiant and hot-tempered.  Lately, I’ve gotten into the habit of calling him my threenager as I’ve endured some pretty dramatic episodes that I couldn’t make up even if I tried.

It’s funny to laugh about sometimes – the things we as mothers of young children say, experience and witness first hand.  When we dream about these little “bundles of joy” coming into our lives, we don’t imagine ourselves having to say things like “Please, don’t lick the table” or “No, we don’t taste our pee.”  We hope it will never be us that has to escort our screaming child out of Target while everyone looks at us wondering what kind of awful parent we are that our child is behaving that way in public.  

And all mothers have a poopy crib story.  I still shudder remembering my own.

But moms, we imagined things didn’t we?  We had dreams and sweet visions of what it would be like to care for and nurture our children.  Like reading stories before bedtime and making precious memories on summer vacations and Christmas holidays.  And even the basic everyday things like feeding and bathing and clothing our children – of course without any incident, because what incident could there possibly be?  

But, my world right now?  If you give my child a piece of toast and the butter hasn’t melted all the way into it, he will scream at you until the toast is fixed or you break down and let him have a popsicle instead.  And if a drop of water gets on his eye in the bathtub, we reach DEF CON 5 freakout level.  And long pants are a terrible, terrible idea and mine throws himself on the floor because I had the nerve to pick out jeans for him to wear.  Or the socks are wrong.  Or he doesn’t like how that t-shirt feels on his tummy.

Seriously?

Recently, we went to a restaurant with my family and Jacob was laying on the floor as we waited in line by the counter to order.  Everyone was looking at me and giving me these judgmental stares that said, “Um, your kid is laying on the floor and that’s gross and why aren’t you making him behave more civilized?”  And all I was thinking was that my kid isn’t screaming at me in public and he can lay on the damn floor all he wants.

This is not the motherhood I imagined.  I am not the mother I imagined I would be either.  I lose it.  I scream back at him.  I slam doors.  Sometimes I let my anger match his and later when I’ve calmed down, I regret it and feel horribly guilty. 

Motherhood is rough ya’ll.  I mean, it’s gnarly.  Between the shit (literal and figurative), pee, puke, sweat, tears, and blood, the verbal assaults add insult to injury.  Jacob has already screamed that he hates me on several occasions and I suppose I assumed that these words wouldn’t come until at least teenagerdom, but here we are.

I have actually and for seriously cried every single day for the last several weeks.  Earlier this week, what was supposed to be a fun family cookout around our fire pit turned into another dramatic screaming session because the marshmallow inside his s’more was too gooey and he couldn’t eat it. Todd took him inside and put him to bed, while I sat there and sobbed as I threw his blasted s’more into the fire watching my motherhood dreams melt and burn in front of my eyes.  

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be!  It shouldn’t be this f*cking hard!” I shook my fist to the sky and threw my hands in the air.  I’m not sure if I was yelling that at God or myself or my own mother.  I know for certain that my imagined mother self didn’t say f*ck as many times as I have in recent days either.

*sigh*

I’m scared that I’m failing at this.  I’m scared that I’m screwing him up and I’m not doing something right and that I’m failing his precious little heart because I can’t handle all of the screaming about all of the things all of the times!  I want to be the patient, loving, gentle mother he deserves but those words don’t describe my mothering most days.

The truth is, I want him to always be a little wild.  I want him to push back sometimes and question the rules.  I want him to discover things on his own, form his own beliefs and vocalize his thoughts and feelings because they matter.  I want him to be the kind of person that feels deeply and engages this world with the passion he clearly possesses.  But for the love of all that is pure and holy, I want him to stop screaming about everything.  Every day.  All the time.  

I know this season will end.  I am anticipating the shift that comes with him turning four.  And please God, let there be a shift when he turns four.  

But I guess what I really need, is for my own mother to look me in the eyes, cup my face and tell me I’m doing well.  That yes, this is hard and no, it's not possible to enjoy every moment.  That God picked me to be Jacob’s mama and no one could do it better than me.  And that I’m doing a good job.  Because a mother needs to hear from her own mother about mothering and it’s another place I don’t have her that feels like a loss.

So I’ll say this to you, mama’s.  The weary ones with the strong-willed children.  The ones whose children scream at you or lay on floors in public.  The ones who have to escort your fit-throwing threenager out of the store while keeping your game face on.  The one who exhales deeply after they are finally in bed or a trip to the grocery store alone is your happy place:  

I see you.  I’m with you.  You’re doing a good job.  It’s going to be okay. You’re not failing.  It’s hard and it’s not what you imagined.  Let's grieve that together.  To you, I raise the box of tissue for the bad days, the sweet ones, and the gloriously easy days that take you by surprise.  

Let’s mother on.

Mr. Personality

Jacob.  Jacob is....

Jacob is something.

If there was ever a picture that captures his personality and who he is, it would be this one.  Eyes full of silly, wonder, and mischief.  The cutest grin on the face of the planet.  He's up to something, wheels turning, mind racing, pondering what kind of trouble or havoc he can create in his little world. 

Jacob experiences his world with his entire being.  He runs the fastest.  Screams the loudest.  Smiles the biggest.  Cries the hardest.  Laughs the longest.  I have always seen this light in him, something bright and big that gives me a glimpse into the man he is going to be someday.

I've been vocal with my friends about what a challenge he has been to raise and mother.  He has a fiery, emotional personality.  He is passionate, stubborn, and strong-willed.  He can be explosive and raging angry.  And he is precious, affectionate and adoring.  He knows how to work his big blue eyes and convince me to give him anything, which is why he may be accustomed to having a popsicle for breakfast from time to time. 

And we have had to grow together.  I have had to learn how to help him calm down and teach him how to do it himself.  How to deal with him in a quiet and persistent kind of patience.  I've learned that sometimes we have to get to a quiet space away from a situation so he can hear me, hear himself and find some peace again.  I've learned that he has to get out and have plenty of physical activity if I want him to be able to listen and still when needed.  Some days are better than others, and some days I completely fail him and I lose it.  Jacob has the ability to bring out the very worst parts of me and I hate that.  I hate that he has to know me in these places.  I hate that he is like me in these places.  That his rage, his anger, his explosiveness comes from me.  That some days, I discipline him for the very things he has seen me do.

He is a challenge and he is hard.  It has made motherhood feel hard and I have envied my friends whose children have more even temperaments and better manners.  I have the child that may punch yours in the stomach if they take his toy.  I have the child that might say shit because he heard it in a movie and yes, we let him watch a movie that had the word shit in it and now you know that because he's three and he's cussing.  I have the child that doesn't like to share.  I have the child that squirts an entire tube of toothpaste all over the bathroom sink.

And I have the child that is the source of deep, from-the-belly laughter in our house.  Who reminds me that discipline is always followed by hugs and kisses.  I have the child that invites me to embrace the world and to live life more fully than I would if he weren't in it.

Jacob.  Jacob is.....

Jacob is something.  And I'm glad he's mine.

A Very Thomas the Train Birthday Party

I've been working a little backwards tonight on ye old blog.  My sickness from earlier in the year consumed so much of my energy and brain power and every ounce of creativity that ever existed in my being.  I still feel as though I have this huge chunk of my life missing because I was in the hospital for a full month and almost a full month at home recovering.

Thankfully though, by the end of February, I had enough energy to muster up a small party for Jacob's third birthday

This boy lerves Thomas the Train.  He loves all the trains.  If the island of Sodor were real, he would live there and kick Sir Toppamhat out of his position and completely take over.  And naturally, being the theme party-thrower I am, it seemed to be the natural party choice. I didn't get to be as creative and crafty as I usually am with my parties, but this year, I was just thankful to be upright.

A few fun highlights....

My mother-in-law painted this awesome Thomas the Train cardboard cut out, because she is amaze balls.

 He thought being sung to was the best thing that has ever happened to him.

 

Our Jacob is a passionate boy.  He's a deep feeler like his mama and wears his heart on his sleeve.  While he can have a temper and has definitely been more of a challenge to parent at times, he continues to bring a light into our home and our lives that wasn't there before he came into it.  He still loves to snuggle and be sung to at night.  His favorite possession is his blue baby blanket that he calls "Night-Night."  He loves to play with trains and anything that his big brother has - which means he is the biggest three year old Star Wars fan you've ever met.  Donuts are his most favorite food.  He is silly and goofy and loves to make us laugh.  And he's loud - oh so loud.  I have no idea where he gets this from.

Oh my sweet boy, I love you so.  Happy, happy, happy birthday.

Super Family Fun Day

We called it "Super Family Fun Day."  We had promised Tommy a fun outing and we all needed some time to be together, to laugh and play and enjoy. 

We spent the morning at a fun children's museum.  We ate lunch together at Sonic complete with ice-cream cones.  The afternoon was spent playing outside with waterguns and we splashed in our little plastic pool and felt the sun shine down on us as summer let us know it was nearly here.  We grilled burgers for dinner and played a game and snuggled up on the couch for stories and cuddles.

We don't get many days exactly like this one, but it was perfect and needed and so much fun.  And hopefully we are leaving our boys with memories that will last a lifetime. Not just of enjoying the food and the things and the places - but memories where we enjoyed them.

 Shopping at "the store."

 

 I'm a scary bat!

Astronaut Tommy!

Ice-cream cone trance.

Sunshine and the love of my life.

Daddy won.

Baby Steps

Watching your child take their first few steps is one of the best days in a parent's life pretty much ever.  There is something so exciting watching your baby figure out how their body moves and what it can do.  It's a sign of independence - and glory, hallelujah, I'm all about that.  They go from a baby to a toddler almost overnight and suddenly late night feedings and rocking your sweet footed-sleeper baby to sleep is a thing of the past. I got lucky with Jacob and was able to record his very first set up steps as he walked to my friend Sarah over Easter weekend. 

Now, when he walks - it looks like this:

He is on a mission.  Now, if we can get him to stop clinging to my legs while I want to cook in the kitchen, we will be getting somewhere.

Monster Mash

I'm a big theme-party thrower.  It simply wouldn't be like me to do a birthday without a selected theme.  When the boys get older, I'm almost sure they'll be over the theme-thing and I'll have to mourn my party losses and remember the good ol' days of the Spiderman and Cowboys and Monster parties of their past.

Over the weekend we had a little celebration for Jacob's birthday.  I selected monsters to be the theme, because well, have you met Jacob?  He's adorable, but he has the personality of a little monster - he even growls like one.  It seemed to suit him.

I had fun scouring Pinterest ideas on this one.  Like sticking googly eyes to everything.

For Tommy's 2nd birthday, I made one of those elaborate and colorful birthday banners.  And it was so much work and so incredibly time consuming that I held on to it with the hopes of being able to use it for something again.  Thankfully, Jacob's monster party became the perfect theme to go with the recycled banner.  My favorite creation were my paper lantern monster faces.  Seriously people, party decorations are my love language. 

My talented mother-in-law (with the help of my awesome sister-in-law Tiffany also) painted some fun monsters on a box so kids could sit inside and take pictures.

I attempted both a monster cake and monster cupcakes, both of which were okayish.  I can craft with a glue gun all day long, but give me frosting and baked goods and my hands don't work anything like my brain does.  Cake decorating is not my strong suit.  Hence, the "monster" cupcakes which mostly look like disturbed smiley faces.  I tried.

Jacob's most favorite present was a ball he received.  Tommy was never in to playing with balls and chasing them around, but it's already Jacob's favorite past time.  That's if you don't include climbing up Mommy's legs.  When I took the ball out of the bag his face lit up and it's basically all he has played with since Saturday.

Now, if you can remember way back to the day when Tommy had his first birthday party, you might remember that he cried when we sang Happy Birthday and then wanted nothing to do with his cake.  My one-year old mother's heart was broken, because the pay-off for having a one-year old kid party is to watch what they do with their cake, right?  I had high hopes that Jacob would put on a good cake smashing show.

And?  He did.

  Oh did he ever! 

 

He ate every lost crumb.  Every lick of frosting.  He was sucking the high chair tray when we finally took him out of his cupcake coma.  He was a mess!

It was a sweet time celebrating our little guy.  It was a very sweet time for Jacob who now knows the wonders of sugary filled desserts.

My little Jacob-monster.  I do love you so.

One Year

Exactly one year ago today, a little bundle of baby boy beautifulness came in to the world.  Though it’s been a challenging year and at times he has enough personality for ten babies, Jacob has brought so much joy and fullness to our lives and our home. 

Tomorrow we celebrate accordingly and I have high hopes that he will come through with an entertaining cake smashing session.

Happy Birthday sweet boy.  You are so, so very loved.