Friday, January 14, 2011

Tater Tot - 23.75 months, Small Fry - 4.5 months

Dear Mckenna,

You are my first baby. My sweet little Tinkerbell who looks like your daddy and has a temper like your mommy. Next week you'll be two years old and I can hardly believe it. Some days, you have moments of such compassion and generosity, that I think you are much older than you actually are. Some days, you seem a lot younger too!

When I look at you now, I can see what you'll look like as a little girl, about to enter Kindergarten, with soft, wispy pigtails and an imaginative sense of style. If the light catches your cheek just right, I can see what you'll look like as a high school girl, getting ready for her first date. And, it pains me to say it, I can imagine what you'll be like when you give birth to your own little child someday.

You hold your baby when I hold your baby sister. You rock them, sing to them, and even let them nurse! But then, in your most vulnerable times, you want me to rock you and sing to you and even let you nurse. I try to stop what I am doing and let you "be my baby," if only just for a little while. I know someday, you won't want to be in my arms any more, so I try to savor every moment I can.

I know I haven't always been the best mom to you, but I am trying hard. It's very difficult to understand what you want sometimes, but I always try to help you however I can. You are so sensitive and caring and I love that about you.

My first girl. My precious girl. I'll always love you no matter what.

Now, pick up your juice!

Love,
Mama

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Tot - 23.5 Months, Fry - 4 months

I'm not a crazy, religious person. Ok, this is where some of you may delete my blog from your Favorites and fine, whatever. Hear me out.

When someone uses the word "Christian" to describe anything other than their own personal faith, it bothers me. Especially when someone says, "I'd love for Little Johnny to find a nice Christian girl to marry." A)Why does she have to be Christian? That's like saying you want them to marry a White person, specifically. Shouldn't we have tolerance for all religions (and races?). It's not acceptable for you to specify what race someone should love, why should you specify their religion? 2) And further more, why does it have to be one gender or the other? "I'd love for Little Johnny to find a nice Buddhist boy to marry."

Somewhere, a lady in a little hat with berries just keeled over. I'll do you one more. III) Why do they have to marry at all? Just because I picked to marry a man, doesn't mean that's right for everyone else. I like men (for the most part, except for that one time in college... we won't get into that... jk) and I like being married (for the most part, except for that one time in college) and I like going to church (for the most part, except for that one time in college) but it's not right for everyone.

I don't call myself a Christian in the sense that some people do. I'm Presbyterian. I'm K----. I'm Mama. I'm more than just one-sided, blanketed term, meant to instill that I don't do something because I'm (this) or I only do it because I'm (that).

That being said....

I think Tater Tot is having a religious upheaval.



We were painting one day, and I tied one of Spud's old white t-shirts around her. She felt herself in the long white robe and said, "Mommy, I Jonphen!" It took me a second to realize what she was saying.

"Yes baby, you're just like Jonathan (our pastor)! Here... let me find you a scarf and we'll take a picture!"

The head bowed in prayer and the clasped hands were her idea... :)



Every day she asks to go to church ("Chich"). Well, of course, why not? "Church" consists of pre-school on Wednesdays - three hours locked in a room with toys and snacks - and being in the nursery while mommy and sissy sit in the pews - one hour locked in a room with toys and snacks. Sure! Sounds fun! There are baby dolls to play with, little boys to kiss and then smack (Ugh... I. Hit. Harrison?!), and all the fingerpaint you can eat.


I think this all started when we got baptized.

I'm pretty sure a fire extinguisher was kept nearby, just in case I burst into flames...

I'm surprised how good she was for Jonathan. No tears. No halting. Went right to him and let him hold her, and she even played in the water! Every time he'd ask a question, she'd say, "Mm-hmm!"

This little hell-beast, however, knew what she was getting into and did not like it one bit! She would much prefer to spend her little pagan days sacrificing goats than have Holy Water on her. "It burns... it burns..."

We're not perfect. We're still working on our faith individually and will continue the rest of our lives on this journey. I'd say we're a mixed faith family, but that would imply that Spud is Jewish or something (he opted out of the baptizing experience... but came for moral support). He believes what he believes, privately, and that's ok with me. It took me a long time to even be able to go to a church. I had to find one that fit me and he has to find what fits him. For right now, he much prefers to work in the basement while the house is quite for an hour and a half, and I'm ok with that.

For the most part. When I'm sweaty and dripping with babies and snot and something... crunchy... God, Tater Tot, what the hell is that? Oh for Christ's sakes, you had better not be.... (That counts as a prayer, right?)

Those are the times I wish I had another set of hands to help.