Maddie girl

That's what I call her...My Maddie Girl.  She is my baby girl, and she just blew out three candles on her pink and purple pony cake.  Three.  This ain't my first rodeo.  I know how it works.  I know that the days are long and the years are short.  I know that cooing and gurgling gives way to little broken sentences all too quickly.  I know that with each birthday my children celebrate I am always left shaking my head, misty-eyed, wondering where the time has gone. 

Still, it takes me by surprise.  Takes my breath away.  I was thinking about it the other day.  That Beatles song "She's Leaving Home" popped into my head and I was reduced to a sniveling mess. 



She's Leaving Home by the Beatles (in case you've never heard it)

So often when I watch Maddie play or dance or sing, I find myself staring into space, unintentionally pressing the mental fast forward button...Suddenly I am waving goodbye as she steps on the school bus, trying not to chew my nails when she takes the car for a spin by herself, videoing her graduation, helping pack the car for college, fixing her veil on her wedding day....  Okay, okay, I know.  She's three.  I sound psychotic.  But if you only realized how quickly the last three years sped by, it's not much of a stretch to imagine the next 30 zooming past at lightening speed.

I'll have 18 short years to really be with Maddie - to love her, teach her, guide her and watch her grow.  Well, 15 now.  I think one of the scariest things about parenthood is that nagging fear that you will somehow miss the mark.  You won't get it right.  You will not adequately instill important values and virtues and therefore will somehow damage your child.  In the hopes of sparing them discomfort or pain, you will push your own "perfect" agenda [see cookie-cutter life I have planned for Maddie above] and push him or her away.

A dear friend of mine often says his [adult] son grew into a wonderful man in spite of his parenting.  I love that line.  I know that in many ways, I need to just step back and let Maddie grow into Maddie. 

So, I will take a deep breath and try to live in the moment with her.  We'll take one day at a time.  I will enjoy her twirling and whirling and singing and best of all, her kisses.  I will try to stand back and get out of her way (which is probably the safest move anyway since she has all the grace of SNL's Mary Katherine Gallagher).   

Picture of SNL's Mary Katherine Gallagher

Picture of Maddie at her first dance class.  Notice the teacher's arm position versus Maddie's...

I can also take great comfort in the fact that I am not the architect of Maddie's life (thank goodness!).  That's already been taken care of by the greatest Planner of them all. 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11

I will love her and do my best to guide her and revel in the fact that I am the lucky one who gets to be called my Maddie Girl's momma.  I'm the lucky one who gets to watch her grow...and I look forward to doing just that.  Happy birthday, sweetheart.



Maddie singing her favorite song

Bad words

Everyone was finally loaded in the van.  Cooler with lunches for everyone (including Daddy who would meet us later), check.  Manual breast pump with bottle (in case I had to feed Jack on the go), check.  Sunscreen (in case it's sunny), jackets (in case it's not), cell phone, camera, and partridge in a pear tree, check.

It was 9:30.  Everyone had gotten dressed, gone potty, and Maddie even let me brush her hair (miracle of miracles).  We'd make it to the doctor on time for Jack's two month check-up, feed him, and even if they were running behind (because they always are) we'd still arrive at the pumpkin farm on time for Parker's preschool field trip.  Whew!  I allowed myself to exhale.

My zen moment was interrupted by a tiny voice from the backseat:  "Mommy, you said [insert bad word]."

My eyes shot open wide.  "What?!"

Parker: Mommy, you said [bad word].

Me: [genuinely confused] When!?

Parker:  As we were leaving the house.  You said it.  You said [bad wo-]

Me: Okay!  Okay.  I really don't remember saying that, but if you say so, I probably did.  Mommy is so sorry.  I should never say words like that.  I was very rushed, but that doesn't make it okay--

Maddie: (chiming in)  Noooo.  We don't say [bad word].

Me: [getting flustered] Okay!  Okay guys.  You're right.  We don't say that.  I'm very sorry.

Visions of Parker relaying the story to his innocent preschool playmates while they jumped from bales of hay as judgmental teachers and parents looked on filled my brain.  Time for damage control.

Me: Parker, I know Mommy shouldn't have said that bad word, and I'm very, very sorry I said it [understatement].  I need you not to repeat it anymore, okay?  Don't tell your friends--

Parker: But...

You see, Parker has found the bad-word tattle-tale loophole, and he loves it.  I can't tell you how many times he has come home from school with a story about so-and-so who said "fart" or "poop" or some other forbidden word.  He delights in relaying the offense, as it gives him the opportunity to use the word himself.

Me: If you need to tell someone, tell Daddy.  Just don't repeat the word I said.  Just say, 'Mommy said a bad word,' and I can tell him what it was, okay?

Parker:  [grudgingly] Okay.

Sheesh.

Maddie's smile

You know what they say about Helen of Troy...how her face launched a thousand ships?
Well, I know I'm biased, but I believe the same could be said about my daughter.  Her smile lights up my life. 

And if you think her smile is amazing [if you don't, I don't want to know], you should try one of her hugs.  Soft, surprisingly strong arms around your neck, her face buried in your hair.  Maddie's hugs often end with a kiss.  She doesn't grasp the concept of a kiss on the cheek.  If you attempt that, she'll grab your face with both of her little hands, hold it steady, and plant a tiny kiss on your lips.  What could be sweeter?   

Maddie is her own person.  Opinionated, obstinate, exuberant, flamboyant...  Who knew so much drama could reside in such a little body?  Winning her favor is like winning the lottery...odds are you won't, but if you do, you are on top of the world.  I shake my head just thinking about her.  How I love that little girl!

Brave

Several days ago two inmates escaped from a correctional facility in Lexington.  They were last spotted near Louisville.  More specifically, they were very near Grammy and Pawpaw's house (a fairly remote and wooded area).  Grammy called to warn me not to stop by with the kids.

How exciting!  Parker is constantly asking me to tell him stories about bad guys, jail, escapes, arrests, etc.  I couldn't wait to tell him!  I know this probably sounds awful or bizarre to some people.  However, if you really knew Parker, you would realize this real-life story was about the best thing since sliced bread. 

I was able to spin it in such a way that he would realize we were not in any danger.  It was pure excitement.  I finished by saying the police might need some help catching these crooks.

His eyes were as wide as saucers.  A grin played on his lips.  "Oh!  Hold on!" he exclaimed.  He took off like a shot and headed for the basement playroom.  When he emerged, he was a sight!

Shin guards on his legs, a quiver holding an arrow (with no tip), a bow, two flexible wooden train track pieces dangling from his shoulders, and his favorite "flag" socks with stars and stripes [very patriotic].  After I took his picture he added a plastic headset with earphones and a microphone (so he could remain in contact with the police).

He quickly explained that he would shoot the bad guys' tires, rush in, tie up their feet with the train tracks, and call the police for backup.  Good plan.  He insisted we call Grammy and get details.  "What kind of getaway car were they driving?"  After learning it was long and black, we went outside to scope out his hiding spot.  He settled on the screened in porch and set up a plastic tub as a shield.  Then he decided he needed a more thorough command center.  Soon our back porch was littered with rocks, plastic swords, a Thomas the Train pop-up tent, a plastic Jack-o-lantern he named Lancy, and other essentials.  He sat and scanned the traffic [about 1 car every 5 minutes] for over half an hour.  Every few minutes, I would get a status report: "I saw a car, but it wasn't black, Mommy."  "I saw a black car, but it wasn't long."  "I saw a red car." 

We took a break to go to Costco to buy diapers for Jack.  Parker was pretty sure the crooks were inside the store.  He took all of his gear, just in case.  He told anyone who would listen about his important mission.  Then he decided the entire store might just be a trap set for us by the bad guys.  Convinced they were in cahoots with the employees, he eyed the workers suspiciously.  We barely escaped. 

Back at home, the scouting continued.  Parker explained he would really like a medal from the police (if he caught the bad guys).  I pondered aloud that they might already be in custody.  He looked so disappointed. 

"Oh...But Honey, they might just give you a medal anyway."

He glanced up at me, unsure.

"Yeah!  You know, most people aren't nearly as brave as you are.  Most people, if they found out some bad guys were in their neighborhood, well, they would just hide inside and lock their doors.  But not you!  Look how brave you are!  You are out here with all of your weapons and traps trying to catch them!  I bet if the police found out about how you tried to help, they would award you a medal of honor for your bravery."

Parker beamed.  "Can you call them right now and tell them?"

Um..."Well, let's give it some time to make sure they've actually caught the crooks."  I thought about how I could get out of this one.  "Honey, even if the police don't give you a medal, I will give you one.  I know you are really brave."

"Yes I am, Mommy!"

Time to head to the craft store...

Best times

Note:If this post seems oddly out of order that's because it is.  I started writing it over a week ago, then life (and other blog posts) happened.  Just wanted everyone to know it's not all doom and gloom in the Rausch household...


I have really been enjoying having three kids.  I am actually pretty surprised by my own positive attitude.  I'm not trying to brag.  It's taken me a long, long time to adjust to motherhood.  It has been a slow, less than graceful process.  Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time would know that!

Tonight I was thinking about the parts of my day that I enjoy the most.  I was surprised to realize that the time I tend to treasure the most is the time I am able to spend with each child individually.  I absolutely love the late evening hours.  Parker and Maddie are tucked into bed, and I can give Jack my undivided attention.  After he eats, he takes a leisurely bath.  He loves the water (so much so, that he has fallen asleep during his bath at times).  He will stare at me wide-eyed while I pour water on his little belly and sing lullabies.   I lay him on our bed and gently dry his tiny arms and legs.  We have entire conversations in coos and gurgles.  I kiss his squishy cheeks, and he rewards me with an enormous toothless grin.  After wrapping him up in soft pajamas, we play on his mat in the living room.  He has some "tummy-time." With eyes as big as saucers and raised eyebrows, he seems to surprise even himself with his upper body strength.  I cheer him on as if he were an Olympic athlete.  When I notice his brow begin to furrow in frustration, I scoop him into my arms and cuddle with him.  Finally, he is swaddled and carried up to his crib, where after a few brief cries, he drifts off to sleep.  He is amazing!

Tummy time!

                                  

Then I have time to think back on the rest of my day.  I adored my "special time" with Maddie today.  While Parker was at preschool and Jack was napping, Maddie and I just played.  We ate play food in the basement playroom.  She served the food and was quite bossy.  "No, Mommy!  Don't eat yet!  We have pway!  Gah is gweat.  Gah is good.  Wet us thank him for our food.  By his han we are fed.  Give us, Ward, our day-wee bwed.  Amen!"  I would take a pretend bite, and then if I went for another bite, she would repeat this mantra.  "No, Mommy!..."  After we ate (and prayed) for a long time, she decided it was time to do our nails.  She insisted on painting her own nails ["Because I'm a big guh-wuhl!"] and mine.  Salon-quality, let me tell you!  She was so happy to just be with me, and it warmed my heart.  She kept repeating, "Dis is Mommy-Maddie special time. Not Buddy [Parker]?"  I replied, "That's right."  "Not Jack?" she'd ask.  "Just Maddie," I smiled.

Future make-up artist

The best time of day with Parker often comes during "quiet time."  I have given up on the nap-time fight.  Parker and Maddie are sent to their rooms for "quiet time" during Jack's afternoon nap.  If they fall asleep, fine.  If they don't, fine (as long as everyone is actually quiet).  Often I will slip into Parker's room during this time.  He's always surprised to see me.  I put my finger up to my lips to let him know we have to be very quiet, so Maddie (who is directly across the hall) won't know I'm sneaking in.  "Do we get to have special time, Mommy?!" he whispers excitedly.  I grin and nod.  We play Rescue Heroes or build train tracks or read books.  Then I tuck him into his bed, snuggle up next to him and sing Silent Night (his favorite song) quietly into his ear.  He closes his eyes, murmurs, "Mama, mama, mama," sighs, and kisses my cheek.  It is the best.

First day of preschool this year

Now if only I could figure out how to be just as fun-loving and affectionate when I have all three of them together.  *Sigh*

 

Just so you know

Dear Parker & Maddie,

Sometimes I question whether or not writing this blog is a good thing.  It started out as a way to help me remember all of the day to day details of your childhood (that I feared I would forget).  I wanted to fill it with cute memories, funny stories and the like.  In fact, I have omitted several incidences that I would rather forget (either because of your bad behavior or my own). 

However, I fear that one day you may read this blog and wonder, "But what about all the bad days?"  Like today.  And sadly, many other days.  It's not that the day was all bad.  I just found myself failing over and over.  I want to write about it because I want you to understand...I want you to understand our life situation, my motivation, and what I think and feel about you.

#1.  I love you both so much that it literally makes my heart ache.  I will always love you, though I may not always like your behavior.  Your are my precious, precious gifts from God. 

#2.  Life is challenging right now, and it's not your fault.  Parker you are 4, and Maddie you are almost 3.  You are both active, strong-willed, and inquisitive.  Jack is only 2 months.  He requires a huge amount of my time and energy.  I know it's hard to be patient while he's eating and quiet while he's sleeping. 

#3.  I have the best intentions.  Like when I promise you both some "special time" and Jack wakes up early from a nap needing to eat right away.  Or when I say we will go to the park but then realize Jack hasn't had a nap in his bed all day and really needs one.  Or when I say I'll play a game with you while I'm nursing him, but your game requires me to sit on the floor and I can't find a position that doesn't break my back, so I have to move (which, according to your rules, ruins the game you've created). 

#4.  I'm sorry.  Kiddos, I'm a sinner.  Though I start out with good intentions, my own selfishness often prevails.  I snap at you.  I yell at you.  I glare at you.  I am so, so sorry.  Mommy is a work in progress.

I want you to know that after I was finally able to tuck Jack in for the night tonight (after a very, very long day), I went to each of your rooms, kissed all over your sleeping faces and whispered in your ears, "Mommy loves you.  Mommy loves you."  I want you to know it deep inside.  I want you to believe it despite my bad behavior.  I want you to remember it.  I love you. 

Roller Coaster

I think perhaps I've chosen the wrong name for our blog.  The Rausch Roller Coaster might be more accurate.  When I nurse Jack in the middle of the night, I often find myself reflecting upon the highs and lows of the day.  Our days and weeks really do seem to consist of just that...extreme highs and extreme lows.

Take Friday, for example.  The kids were so excited.  They had been waiting all week for this day.  You see, Aunt Beetle [Natalie] had graciously agreed to have us spend Friday night at her house.  We were going to celebrate her birthday (which was on Wednesday) and all go together to Applefest in a nearby town on Saturday.

Starting on Monday, the kids began to ask if it was Friday yet.  They began packing on Wednesday:
1 blankie
1 pillow
1 soft toy
2 hard [plastic] toys
tra-bull [travel] cup (a special cup daddy bought for each child that had a straw and a lid...only to be used on long trips)

This trip was going to be special.  We would not only see our beloved Aunt Natalie and Uncle John, but we would get to spend time with cousin, Sebastian.  This kids are completely in awe of this little guy.  Every time they see him, he is doing something new and amazing.  First it was smiling, then batting at toys, then babbling, crawling, walking.  They can't wait to be around him!  The vast majority of our visits have occurred when they come into town.  They live north of Cincinnati (and if you read on, you will understand exactly why we don't make the trip often).

The Thursday before the trip we had another high.  I took all 3 kids on our first ever trip to the grocery store by myself!  Even more amazing...it was a huge success!   We not only bought the ingredients for Aunt Beetle's cake, but we also purchased all the groceries we'd need for a week - with no major meltdowns. 

When we arrived at the house, we began work on the cake.  I put the kids in charge of dumping the [pre-measured] ingredients in the bowl and turning on the mixer.  In hindsight, this was not the brightest idea.  They would inevitably push the lever too hard, mixing at level 5 instead of 1.  After I was covered in flour and had wiped down the counter and floors for the umpteenth time, I decided perhaps it was best if they were responsible for turning the mixer off after each ingredient had been added.

Come Friday, we were ready!  After dropping Parker off at preschool, Grandma came to watch Maddie and Jack while I hit a huge consignment sale.  A few hours later, I returned home with Parker and a ton of fall kids' clothes.  I felt like the day couldn't get any better.  We were all giddy with excitement about the sleepover.  When I put the kids in their rooms for "quiet time" I packed the van.  I woke them early, in the hopes they'd be quiet [read: groggy] for the car ride.  That was my first big mistake. 

By the time Aaron got home, every one had been screaming and crying for an hour.  I fed Jack, and we hit the road.  Mistake #2:  Not making sure everyone had "gone potty" before we left.

We took the kids through the McDonald's drive-through for a super-healthy dinner (with the all-important toy included).  Mistake #3: Mixing the kids' juice with water and putting it in their "travel cups."  Juice box = 4 ounces.  Juice box + water = 10 ounces.  (We would soon pay for the combination of mistakes 2 & 3). 

Then we made mistake #4...Aaron and I decided we wanted a healthier option and stopped at Subway.  By the time he re-entered the car after getting our dinner, Maddie was already straining against her seat buckle, crying that she wanted to get out and asking, "How long [until] we will be there?!"

After we'd been on the expressway for about 10 minutes, the real chaos began.  "I need go potty!"  "Me, too!"  "I'm about to weak [leak]!"  "No! I'm gonna leak!"

Stop, potty, start again.  15 minutes later, repeat.  During the second stop, I purchased some popcorn and poured equal amounts into their now empty happy meal boxes with the express instructions not to spill it.  Moments later popcorn was sailing through the air.  Daddy was not happy.  Maddie was giggling defiantly.  Parker was whining, "She's throwing popcorn at me."  Useless threats ensued.  "I need go potty!"  Then traffic.  No end in sight.  "I NEED GO POTTY!!!" 

It was nearly 8:30 at night.  The car slowly inched toward the next exit.  We decided we would have to head home.  The real tears began to flow as the kids realized their dream trip had ended before it had even begun.  Cue the wailing: "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  Then Jack began to scream.  With three crying children, we made our last potty break, cried "uncle" ourselves, and turned the van around.

Our week of joy and anticipation had come crashing down around us.  After all three kids were tucked into bed, Aaron and I sat in the living room with wide eyes, shaking our heads.  "What happened?"  How had we come to this?  There was a time when a trip to Cincinnati was a hop, skip, and a jump.  We'd listen to music, sip our drinks, perhaps the passenger would read a magazine.  Those days were certainly over. 

As I nursed Jack later that evening, I listened to the soft sighs and squeaks he made as he snuggled close.  Kissing the top of his tiny head, I thanked my lucky stars that those days were over.  I'll take my roller coaster any day.