Bedtime is Mom Time

I have a very demanding work schedule, so I often find myself up at 2 or 3 in the morning finishing up work that I should have finished that day or that needs to be ready that morning.  Late nights mean I don't always get up in time to see the kids off on the bus.  Thankfully, I can count on our kids and James to get everything together in the morning so everyone gets on the bus.

They go to school. I go to work. James and Eliana spend some "just us" time together and after rushing everyone around to after school activities, feeding everyone dinner, showering and brushing teeth, it's finally time settle down for the night.  This is probably my favorite time of day because I get to do the one thing I don't get to do during the day - spend time with my kids.

Like most kids, our kids LOVE bedtime books.  The best part is that I LOVE reading them.  I love to have their full attention while they are learning something new.  I love to watch their faces light up when something unexpected happens.  I love to hear them giggle when we find a book that's really funny.  I see it as an adventure we take together because I don't always read the book before I share it with them.  Sometimes it's poorly written or boring (small risk I'm willing to take), but we usually get something out of every book we read.

It's not unusual for us to spend a half-hour reading bedtime books, and some nights we spend up to an hour.  Tonight, we had one of those nights.  I made a spur of the moment decision that we should start doing math and reading flashcards for just a few minutes each night to see how they improve over the next few weeks (more on that in a few weeks perhaps), and we were having so much fun that bedtime books were more of an afterthought.  We did finally start reading and we only had time for 2 books tonight.  We picked these two:

We enjoyed both books, but Oscar and the Frog did seem to pique their interest more.  They all love science, and it's all about how living things grow.  The book ends with the question 'Oscar thinks growing is great!  Do you think so, too?'.  Right away, Jameson chimed in with "No!".  Truman was my most surprising response with, "I don't want to leave Mom and Dad!".  Thank goodness you're young because Mom and Dad aren't ready for that either, buddy.  In the mean time, I'm trying to soak it all in, and Mom will keep doing bedtime books as long as they'll let me.

Too Sick For Blogging

I've been meaning to blog all week, but we've had our hands more than full with sick kids. I finally seem to have found a few moments of peace before the next kid needs his/her dose of ibuprofen.

Truman kicked off the week with high fever in the middle of the night and continued for about 3 days. He is a bear at night when he's sick, so nobody got any sleep. Amelia followed him a few days later with the same symptoms, and continues with her fever. Jameson just started with fever yesterday, so he is eager for the "purple medicine" every 6 hours. Not to be outdone, Truman suddenly broke out in hives last night, so all eyes were on him again last night.

It's no fun with a whole house full of sick kids, but it's one of the ugly necessities of parenting. Congratulations, Jim & Liz! Enjoy the "honeymoon" of parenting.

Not Ready For This

Last night while getting Jameson to bed, he told me, "Mom, I don't wanna die.".  My heart broke a little, and I didn't really know what to say.  He continued with the following questions:

Am I going to die?

Why do I have to die?

Will the man that made me make me better so I can come back?

Are you going to die?

Is Dad going to die?

Who is going to be my Mom and Dad if you die?

Bombarded with these questions, I didn't really know how to answer.  I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't want to scare him either.  I did my best to reassure him, but he just wanted to hear me say that none of us would die.  I couldn't do that, so he started crying in the middle of his questioning because I think he sensed my inability to fully reassure him.

"Yes, we're going to die, but hopefully not for a long time.  Honey, I can't promise you that I'm not going to die, but hopefully Momma will be around until you're a big man and you have your own kids.  I'm sorry I don't know all the answers to your questions, but no one really knows."  I felt myself sinking.  He persisted, and I couldn't help but cry as I empathized with his sadness and fear.  I called James in the room, and I'm not sure he did any better.

Wow, I was not prepared for these questions or these emotions yet.  He's only 3, and I guess I didn't think the fear of death would enter his mind until he was a lot older.  I was wrong.  Tonight, he told me he didn't want to die because he was scared.  This time he was much calmer, and he let it go after I tried my best to tell him it was okay to be scared.  I told him I thought we're all a little scared, but we should live our lives to enjoy our life, not to waste it worrying about something we can't change.  He seemed somewhat satisfied with that response although I'm sure it's not the last I will hear of it.

With all this talk of death, I couldn't help but think about my own worries.  What if one or both of us does die?  Who will be their "mom & dad" if we both do?  What if my children don't get to know their parents?  Or worse, I can't even bear to think about other scenarios.  I think it would be great if I would just take my own advice.  I've said my prayers, so I guess I have no choice but to leave this in God's hands.  Now, I'm just praying for all the right answers.

Three Lovely Years

In the last three years since God blessed us with your birth, you have changed our lives in ways I never imagined. As you grow another year closer to becoming a man, I want to tell you about the happiness you have brought to our lives.

When I first found out I was pregnant with you, I was completely shocked. We knew you were coming, but we never expected you so soon. I remember being thankful that I would get to be a mother. In the months that followed, my body changed, as did the amount of sleep I got. Nonetheless, as most parents will tell you, pregnancy does not prepare you in any way for parenthood, with the possible exception of all that sleep deprivation. I had no idea how much you were missing in our lives.

As the weeks passed, and the realization that you would be born soon became more palpable as you grew, I already knew that I loved you more than I had ever loved myself. I dreaded going to my appointments and having that bit of doubt enter my mind that I might not hear your heart beat. I remember breathing a little easier every time that I did. I will never forget the first time I saw you on the ultrasound. I couldn't believe I was seeing the baby I would be holding in about 7 months. Here you are at about 10 weeks - just a little bean with heartbeat.



I struggled through your pregnancy a bit at the end, and you kept surprising me right up until the end. You were due on October 9, 2005 (our 1st wedding anniversary), so when September rolled around, I thought I had a few weeks to pack. Much to my surprise, you showed up 3 weeks early on September 21st.


When we brought you home, I was so overwhelmed with the idea of being completely responsible for you, but thankfully, Dad came to the rescue and reassured me that we would be fine. I remember we were completely unprepared, so your dad had to make a run to Target for some baby essentials. After a few weeks, I settled into motherhood, and I began to feel comfortable that I knew what I was doing.

In these early months, I watched you sleep all the time, and I thanked God for blessing us with you. I wanted to hold you all the time, and despite others' warnings, I let you sleep in mom & dad's bed so I could have you close to me all night. Although we had a hard time getting you to sleep on your own, I will never regret (and I often miss) putting you in our bed. I am thoroughly convinced that co-sleeping is one of the great joys of life. I am happy to have shared that time with you.

As the months passed and you began to crawl and walk and talk, I only became more enamored of you. With each day that passed, I was more certain that there is no greater purpose in life than to have a family and love it. I still struggle with my patience, but my love for you is unwavering.

From day one, you were a very social baby. You were anxious to start talking so your voice could be heard. 'Mom' was your first word, and oddly, 'backpack' (Dora the Explorer) followed not far behind. Once you learned your first couple words, there was no stopping you. Early on, you would get frustrated when I couldn't understand EXACTLY what you were trying to tell me. Now you've learned how to rephrase or explain what you're trying to tell me when I don't understand. My conversations with you are always an adventure because you can always make me laugh.

You started off as a great eater, but at about 18 months we hit a road block. Suddenly, you wanted to exercise your independence, so mealtime became a real challenge. Unfortunately, you have your dad's appetite, so I always think you should be eating more, and he always thinks you're fine. He may be right, but if I didn't worry about what you eat, who would?


Consider yourself a well-traveled baby. In your three years, you traveled to Mexico City, Lake Tahoe (NV), Orlando (FL), New York City, and Scottsdale (AZ). Soon, you can add Las Vegas to the list. You're a great traveler, and we look forward to many more family trips with you and the twins. Here you are showing off one of your souvenirs.


I make a point to tell you 'I love you' every day, and these words never lose their meaning. You like to tell me you "love me too, too much", and these moments I especially cherish. I love how much you love your love your babies and how you always tell me how "that Maya is a funny girl". I love to watch them squeal with delight when they see you and how you can always make them laugh. I love that you want to read them bedtime stories, and you always want to help me cover them. You are such a good big brother, and I am so happy that mom and dad were able to give you the gift of family.



So here I am with this day upon us. You're turning three, and I couldn't help getting choked up while looking at pictures of your first three years of life. In many ways, you're still a baby, but I
know today marks another year gone, alive now only in our memories. Though I cannot help but mourn its passing (just a tiny bit), I'm overjoyed to have lived it with you.

But today is no different in that I will pray that God keeps you and your babies happy and healthy. For every day I get to share with you, I consider myself blessed. I hope that when you are old enough to reflect on your own life that you will remember being loved and happy. I wish happiness and freedom above all other things for you. I want you to find your own way but know that you can always lean on mom and dad.


You are loud, opinionated, stubborn, warm, kind, affectionate, intelligent, sensitive, impulsive, hyperactive, verbose, and a thousand other things. I love every bit of you.

Happy Birthday, Jameson! Thank you for three wonderful years.

Life's Too Short

Just before the twins were born, I was scrambling to make arrangements to find any extra help I could to get through the first  6 - 12 weeks.  If you've ever had a baby, you know what I'm talking about.  If you haven't, then just wait.  Based on my experience with Jameson, I knew it was going to be hard, but I had NO IDEA what to expect with twins.  I did know for certain though that our household chores would be the first to suffer.

I like to be self-sufficient, and I do not like to ask for help even when I really need it.  At first, this time was no exception.  My mom's constant nagging about getting help finally made me cave.  I came to the realization that I should get help for the sake of my sanity.  She did her part by planning to have one of my aunts in town for the first two weeks.  My mom, as always, planned to be around as much as possible, but I think she did not want the stress of feeling like she had to shoulder this burden by herself.

My father's secretary (Maria), who has grown to become more of a family friend, volunteered herself and offered to bring her niece Rosita from Mexico to help (and study English).  At first, I wondered if maybe I had too much help.  I have since learned that it's not possible to have too much help when it comes to children.

The first few weeks after the twins were born seemed so much easier than they were following Jameson's birth because I had so much help during the day.  After the first two weeks, my aunt went home, and I felt the loss of an extra set of hands.  In the months that followed, Rosita helped us at home with cleaning and laundry.  Rosita went home in April, and I crossed my fingers that we would keep the house as clean and orderly as she had.

I have not, but I don't care anymore.  It's clean enough.  Even better, Maria now volunteers to come out and help me every weekend.  I insist that she take some money, but she would do it for free.  She shows up every Saturday morning, vacuums the entire house, mops the floors, cleans the bathrooms, dusts, washes dishes, straightens up, and does anything else that needs attention.  When she leaves I love to walk through the house and just feel relieved that the house is clean (and I had nothing to do with it).

I used to feel good about trying to do it all ourselves.  Yet, in hindsight, I now realize that I was giving up family time for cleaning time.  Paying for a clean house seems like a small price to pay for more time with James & the kids.  This Saturday we went shopping and came home to a clean house.  God bless Maria. . . and my mom for making me realize that it's okay to lose the pride and take the help.

All Alone . . . and Sick

James is stuck at Newark Airport, and I'm at home alone with 3 little ones - sick ones at that.

Yup, out of the blue today, Jameson spiked a fever.  I, as usual, ran him to the doctor to have the ears and throat checked.  Both clear, but I'm still keeping an eye out.  He was still running a fever by bedtime, so I can look forward to little sleep.  Now, I'm just waiting for the babies to catch up with him.

James is out of own all week for work, so I'm relying on my mom and his mom and sisters to help me as they can.  I'm not really nervous about being alone a whole week so much as being alone with sick kids.  When it comes to sick kids, saying that I'm paranoid is probably an understatement.  I start imagining all kinds of scenarios, and I completely over-think things.

For instance, tonight Jameson gets up from my bed which he laid in for a while following his shower and says, "My neck hurts.".  As soon as he says this I'm already wondering if meningitis is a possibility.  Yes, it is, but I know it's far more likely it's just some other virus.  I wait a few minutes and ask him if his neck still hurts.  He tells me it doesn't, but he's already planted the thought in my head.  James isn't here to tell me I'm crazy, so I try to keep my imagination in check.

Wish me luck.  We miss you, Dad.

Hardest Job in the World

I am convinced that being a mom is the hardest, but most rewarding job in the world.  I am sure many would disagree with me.  You're entitled to your opinion, but read on if you want to get an idea what it's like to be a mom from my perspective.

You should consider that being a mom is not a full-time job.  I had one of those, and it's only about 40 hours.  Whatever I could not finish by Friday, I could leave for the following Monday, usually.  When you're a mom, the bedtime stories, dirty diapers, and hungry babies just can't wait until next week.  Sometimes, I wish they could, but as soon as I think about the alternative, I am always happy to get back to work.

Some days I feel like a successful mom, and other days I feel like a complete failure.  Lately, I have felt more like a failure than a success.  It's a daily struggle to make it through a day with a two-year old that likes to throw a lot of tantrums. "Don't do that!", "Stop it!", "I'm counting to 3", "Didn't I tell you . . . ", "Sit down!", "Be gentle with the babies", and "Cut it out!" seem to be all that comes out of my mouth some days.  At the end of the day, when I stare at a beautiful baby sleeping peacefully in bed, I beat myself up about my impatience.  I promise that tomorrow I will try to reason with him instead of being so hard on him.  He is, after all, just 2.

Sometimes everybody is hungry - all at once.  I try to determine who is hungriest based on the how loud his/she is crying or the how many times I'm asked for candy.  Bottle feeding the twins wouldn't seem so bad during these times, but I have picky eaters, of course.  My 2 year-old likes to think he's ordering a la carte at his favorite restaurant, making demands like, "I want pancakes, bacon, and juice."  I try to convince him that eggs, oatmeal, or cereal are a better alternative.  Sometimes he cooperates.  Sometimes I give in.  Usually, he nibbles at whatever I have served him, and I spend the next half hour convincing him to do a puzzle so I can get a decent amount of food into him.

Many days, I have help.  Thank God!  Some days I don't.  The days I don't someone usually throws up or comes down with the latest cold making its way around.  I make big plans for these days like 'I'm gonna get all the laundry done, and when the kids take a nap, I'll do all the filing.'.  I have yet to catch up on laundry, and my filing is still sitting in stacks on the desk.

I haven't slept through the night since March of 2007.  My tiny human alarm clocks don't skip meals, especially not at night.  I'm usually too tired to move them back to their beds, so most mornings I wake up with a baby on each side of me.   And . . . if I dare sleep past 8 a.m., Jameson is on the floor of my bedroom throwing a tantrum because "it's wake-up time", and he wants to go downstairs.

Showering alone has become a luxury.  By the time I get to shower, there's a baby due for a shower also.  Occasionally, there's 3 babies due for showers.  Baths are a rare occurrence here.  There simply isn't time every night for 3 baths.

I know.  I sound like an ingrate, but remember that I said 'hardest, but most rewarding'.  At the end of the day, it's all worth it to watch 3 beautiful babies sleeping peacefully, even if it means that I still need to do some laundry and wash dishes.

I know I'm late on this one, but do you really expect me to be on time?  If you're a mom and you can relate to my own experience, pat yourself on the back.  You're doing the best you can.  Happy Belated Mother's Day.

We Got a New Dog!

He named himself "Black" and neighs because he forgot momentarily that dogs bark.  This is JJ's most recent imaginary identity.  Funny, but not nearly uncommon here.  His imagination is running wild recently, and he loves pretending he is anyone but himself.  Each night after bath time, he insists on wearing his Batman or Superman pajamas.  He is then magically transformed into a superhero and asks us to call him either "Batman" or "Superman", per his attire.  I have to say, "Batman, do you want anything else to eat?" or "Superman, go pick out the books you want me to read.".  He enjoys it, and I enjoy playing along with him.

Tonight, we were in the middle of this routine when he decided he didn't want to be Batman even though I had the pj's all ready to go.  I go to put the shirt over his head and he says, "No, I don't want to be Batman".  I respond, a bit surprised, "You don't?  Okay, I'll be Batman".  Then I proceed to try to put the 2T shirt over my head.  As I pull it over my head, I say, "See!  I'm Batman.".  I look over at Jameson and realize that as I was pulling his tiny shirt over my head, he was pulling his pants over his head.  Almost as soon as I proclaim my new superhero status, he proclaims his, "I'm Pantsman!".  At this point, I just lost it.  He's a nut, but I shouldn't be surprised.  He gets his quirky sense of humor from me.

He's not only started imagining he is other people or animals, but he has also started trying to talk to me using fake words - think of Jabba the Hut in the Star Wars movies.  I play along, and he tries to outdo me by coming up with longer fake sentences each time I say one.  I'm not sure what gave him this idea, but it's still funny.  Usually, I can remember some book, cartoon, or movie where he's getting his crazy ideas, but I'm not sure about this one.

I have countless other quirky JJ stories, but I must get to sleep.  James is out of town on business, which leaves me all alone with 3 under 3.  I pray that I make it to morning with the energy to do this 2 more nights.  I'm not complaining though.  I'd rather be with my babies than away from them.

The Best Lessons Are Not Learned At School

Despite being less than 3, my kids have taught me far more in the last 2 plus years than I ever learned at school. Before I had them, I always wondered about the whole motherhood bond - you know, that whole thing about 'you wouldn't understand unless you're a mom' thing. Well, now I understand that . . . and much more.

Since having Jameson, James and I have started to think about how we envision our lives 5, 10, and 20 years from now. I think having children forces people to give serious thought to how you will provide for the financial stability of your family and still have the flexibility to live the life you want with them. After all, why have children if you can't enjoy them? Don't kid yourself either though. Financial stability is important also because it is what allows you the freedom to live the life you want.

Financial stability means something different to everyone. To us (and I am speaking here on James's behalf), it means that we can live the way we want to live with our children, travel when we can & want to travel, allow ourselves to have fun without worry, and provide for our future and that of our children. That may seem like a tall order, but for a very long time I always envisioned leaving behind some type of "empire" to my children. As they and I grow older, my resolve only grows stronger. Allow me to give you some background.

My father emigrated from Mexico to the US after what he believed would be a temporary position became permanent. After a few of life's hard knocks, he began work as an independent consultant. He was successful enough to need to hire more help and so began his engineering company. I was 3 and half when he incorporated, so as I grew up, so did the company. I have had the good fortune to watch it, first, from afar through its ups and downs and, second, from within as we have worked together to build something of which we are both proud.

He has been my greatest teacher in matters of business, and I have learned very much through his example. I know one of the greatest lessons I have learned from watching him is that we must pursue our dreams because it's certain that they will not pursue us. That is, if you want to accomplish something, then you are the only one with the power to set it in motion.

Since I first saw Forrest Gump, it has been one of my favorite movies. I could never really identify why, but after getting JJ's nasty bug this weekend I had a chance to do some reading and realized why. I started reading Rich Dad Poor Dad: What the Rich Teach Their Kids About Money that the Middle Class and Poor Don't (highly recommended) upon the suggestion of our financial advisor (just hired). Later, I was in the shower reflecting on what I had read, and for some reason I thought of Forrest Gump. One of the messages I have taken away from the book (so far) is that education and intelligence are really only useful if you know how to apply them (in this case, specifically financial intelligence). I suppose Forrest Gump is a perfect example of someone who wasn't "intelligent" by the generally accepted definition and not highly educated, but he always pursued what he wanted.

I digress, but the point of all of this is that my childhood, professional, and now parental experience has taught me that sitting back and waiting for that "big break" is really more a myth than a reality. I think I always knew that deep down, but for some reason I just had not gotten around to acting upon it. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was lack of knowledge. Maybe it was laziness. Maybe a bit of all three, but I am ready to change that now.

I'm not talking about quitting my job or even changing it (in fact, my stake in the company is one of my greatest assets & accomplishments), but many of the strategies I read about in Rich Dad Poor Dad ring true for me. James and I have talked about them for some time, but I am committing myself to acting upon them. I watched my father follow his own dream (with some nudging from my mother) and build a great life for himself and his family. I want to set the same example for my children. You know, "Stupid is as stupid does." as Forrest would say, so I refuse to be paralyzed by fear - that would be stupid.

Here's a little extra for you . . .the Trubaby watching his mom writing up her post.

Rude Awakening

I woke up at about 12:47 a.m. this morning to Jameson throwing up on me. He's now waiting for me to come back to bed with him, but I can't lie that I'm a bit apprehensive to go back in there. I just sat down after cleaning up dirty clothes, bed sheets, the floor and bathroom, and taking my second shower of the night.

Fast forward 12 hours since I had to get JJ to sleep last night.

Talk about a rough night. It sounds like we're not the only ones having a tough time this cold and flu season, which I thought was supposed to be over. Well, last night I was very abruptly reminded that it's still making it's way around. I got Jameson to bed at about 11 p.m., and I fell asleep with him. I shot up out of bed at about 12:30 a.m. when I hear him starting to cry and cough. It all happened so fast all I could do was contain the mess with what else but my own body. Yuck! What a mess! Of course, Jameson was very quick to point out that he "made a mess". I hollered at James to come help me with the aftermath, and I think I woke up Truman (poor guy!). There was nothing I could do. James threw JJ in the shower, and I worked on cleaning up the mess. Unfortunately, poor little Truman just cried until I was ready to feed him since it was time for him to eat.

It's no fun, but I know it's part of being a kid. I just hope it's not as bad as our last stomach virus. That one knocked all 3 of us out for at least a week. I was 7 weeks pregnant with the twins and had to make a trip to the hospital due to dehydration. Jameson seems in pretty good spirits though. He's not eating a lot, but it's probably better that way until he's feeling more like himself.

Now I'm just hoping my little ones don't pick up this bug. They are troopers though. I'm pretty sure we're going on 3 or 4 colds/bugs this season for each of them. James has been hit a couple of times, but somehow I am hanging in there. I'm using positive thinking and so far it seems to be working. We'll see if I hold up.

The Stay-At-Home Mom

Here I am with a 2-year-old and 9 week old twins, and I am wondering where the time has gone.  Thinking back on how our lives have changed over the last year, I realized that having my first child was great.  Nonetheless, it was like the honeymoon of motherhood.  That is to say that motherhood is really a completely different experience once you have more than one child.

Some of the things I don't get to do anymore . . .

1. Nap when the babies nap.  However, there is the rare occasion when they ALL sleep, and I thank God for those moments.
2. Eat breakfast before 10 a.m.  There are days when I am up between 4 and 6 a.m., and I just go ahead and eat simply because I know I might not have the opportunity again until noon.
3. Go out anywhere with just me and the kids.  How exactly do you carry 2 infants and still supervise your 2-year-old in any type of store?  Yeah, that's what I'm still trying to figure out.
4. Stay out anywhere past 10 p.m., and THAT's pushing it.  James and I have done that once to celebrate his birthday, but I don't think my mom is going to fall for that one again anytime soon.
5. Drive a car smaller than a mini-van.
6. Feel caught up on my chores.
7. Change less than 10 diapers a day.  It's time to potty train JJ.

I could go on, but I won't because I take far more joy in the whole new set of things that I DO get to do now.

1. I get to sleep with my kids.  There is nothing more peaceful in life than sleeping with your children.
2. I get to help shape three little lives.
3. See how much JJ loves "my babies", as he calls them.  I love to hear JJ walk out of his bedroom to come wake me up and ask to see his babies every morning.
4. Gain a renewed sense of appreciation for all parents.  No matter what your approach may be, it's not easy, but it's extremely rewarding.
5. I have 3 great excuses for not getting everything done.  I hate to have a huge list of to-do's, but I would hate far more to look back and wish I had spent more time with my kids.
6. Learn something new from or about my children every day.  Each day there is something new with children, as anyone who is a parent will tell you.
7. I get to be "Mom".  There's something really comforting about feeling needed.

I suppose what I am getting at is that life is harder now in many ways, but I would not trade it for simpler days.  Simplicity has it merits, but when it comes to family life, I prefer it be complicated and crazy, but full.