TGIF

This is what I'd been waiting for since I woke up this morning:

Cuddles during the Olympics.

When I'm holding my two babies, I feel like I'm holding the world.

During the Olympics coverage tonight, Jacob informed me that when the three of us grow big, we're going to swim in the Olympics and we will all earn gold "badges." Then, we're going to watch as daddy jumps on the diving board.

I think that's a solid plan. Although, I think my children's names are more suited for baseball and football players.

Oh and I know this is blurry, but I just have to share it. Here is Ryan wearing a bib that I used to wear when I was a baby (my dad is a lawyer). Who would have known that this bib would acurately depict my future? Maybe it will work on Ryan?

Spoke Too Soon

Today was hard. Hard.

I woke up 15 minutes before my husband had to leave the house with the boys. I got to cuddle Ryan for 7 of those minutes before they left. As I put him in his carseat, I started to cry. It was my first cry since going back to work (I say that as if I didn't cry Sunday night, or Monday night).  After they left, I went back to my room to pick out an outfit.

I saw Ryan's empty bassinet and the tears welled up again.

I popped into the shower and saw his baby bathtub. I remembered how much fun we had at bathtime last night. More tears.

I arrived at work and sadness just kind of hung over me. I dove straight into work and didn't lift my head up until about 10:30 when I found my mind wandering. It wanted me to feel sorry for myself. I blink some tears away and powered through until lunch.

I had to completely shut off the normal part of my brain while I was at my desk. I had to act like a robot. I completed an entire demand letter in 3 hours. I think that's my new personal record.

Every little thought triggered tears. I was so worried someone would ask me if I was ok. I knew that if I started to talk about it, the dam would break. At one point, I couldn't stop the tears. They rolled down my cheeks in hot, uncontrollable trails. I quickly stepped in the bathroom and just let them fall. After a couple minutes (which seemed like forever), I pulled myself together, fanned my face with a paper towel and rushed back to my desk, hoping no one would stop me and notice my puffy, red eyes.

"Ryan's fine." I repeated over and over.

"I'M FINE." I repeated even more.

"I'm fine! This will get easier! It will!"

Then I put my head back down and plowed through another demand letter.

Fast forward a couple hours and everything was right again:

You know he likes you when he tries his best to eat you :)

I Guess I'll Survive Afterall

Today went pretty well. But I have a few thoughts:

(1) I need DRUGS! Tomorrow, my caffeine strike is officially ending. It's just not possible to be a productive office-dweller and cater to two small children in one day without it. Short of getting more sleep (HA! Like that's going to happen) It's the only way to make sure I don't fall asleep in medical records. Who wants to wake up from a nap to a picture of someone's colonoscopy?! Ew.

(2) Idle hands are a mom's worst enemy. I was doing so well when I got to work. I hadn't shed a single tear! I dove enthusiastically into the pile of work on my desk. I slowly cleared the cobwebs from my mind by remembering cases and my own computer password.... then lunch happened. I usually look forward to lunch. But today, it was my first opportunity to think about the kids. "Had Ryan pooped yet? Was it wet or chunky?" I looked out at the sunny weather and I could just imagine Jacob, pantsless and in his bright green crocs, combing my parents' beach for "treasures." I had to work hard to keep the tears at bay and to keep from feeling sorry for myself that I was stuck in an office and not out exploring the world with them.

(3) Shaping underwear is my new best friend. Should I eat another chocolate? Sure! Why not! My shaping underwear will hide it so it's basically like it never happened. Right? On a related note, how many butt clenches does it take to burn off a handful of M&M's?

(4)  I swear that since I've been gone, the eight hour work day has gotten loooooooonger. People really actually sit at a desk for 8 hours? REALLY?! I miss naptime!

(4) (edited: obviously there are still some cobwebs as I haven't regained my ability to count) I was spoiled to have a 4 month maternity leave. Those 4 months were such an amazing time in my life. I would happily relive any moment from the past 4 months- even the ones where I had poop splatters all over my arms or where I was doing damage control during one a very persistent and stubborn 3.5 year old's tantrum.

(5) Today, I didn't have a lot of time with the kids. In fact, we only got 4 awake hours together. BUT the quality of that time greatly surpassed any 4 hour chunk in a pre-work day.

(6) Although I had a good day, my heart felt a little teeny bit like it was breaking at some points. I know this will eventually ease up but maybe I don't want it to. I don't WANT to get used to being apart. I don't want to be desensitized (I know, I know, I'm so DRAMATIC!).

(7) Although it can be hard to be apart, there is nothing better in the world than reuniting with my adorable, tired, crabby, dirt-covered children at the end of the day. When I met my mom at our pick-up and drop off location, this is the scene that was awaiting me:

Grandma tired them out!

And then after we got home:

Trying so hard to sit up on his own

My goofy guy

Monster butt! Finally, butt embellishments for boys!

First Day

Not thrilled about swapping our morning cartoons for a harshly beeping alarm clock. Not thrilled about dropping off the kids and walking out the door. Not thrilled that by 10am, I will be wondering if Ryan is crying, asking to be soothed into his morning nap.

I don't feel good on the inside.

At least I kind of feel good on the outside.

Especially considering that on my last day of work, I looked like this:

Please don't cry, please don't cry, please don't cr.....AP......

The Kids

I remember how weird it felt the first time I referred to my children as "the kids." Now, I'm ALMOST used to the plural form. And I'm PRETTY used to framing the two boys in my camera lens. I've KINDA gotten used to doing twice as much laundry. But the way they interact with each other, gets me every time.

Today after church, some women came over to coo at Ryan. Jacob, being the natural chatterbox that he is, started jabbering away about his favorite toys, his favorite TV shows, his upcoming birthday party, and what he had for breakfast. One of the women said to me, "It's so sweet how Jacob rubs his brother's leg as he talks." I thought that was a perfect example as to how Jacob has naturally taken to brotherhood. His affection for Ryan is so genuine that he shows it absentmindedly.

In the mornings, I groggily and regretfully drag Ryan and myself out of bed and walk into the living room where Jacob has already claimed his spot on the couch for morning cartoons. When Jacob sees us, his eyes light up. He bounces off the couch, charges straight for us, and exclaims in a high pitched voice, "HI RYAN! YOU'RE AWAKE. YOU'RE SO CUTE!" Forget me. I'm practically mince meat.

Jacob loves to kiss Ryan with sticky, slobbery smooches. He loves to rub his head and tickle his feet, sometimes a little too enthusiatically. He also loves to narrate everything that is happening. "Hi Ryan," he says in a sing-songy voice, "Mommy's changing your diaper. Do you like that? She wiping you with a baby wipe."

Today, when I fed Ryan bananas for the first time (which he LOVED- he fussed when I took too long between spoonfulls), Jacob insisted on helping. Ryan did so well with the spoon. Even when Jacob was practically shoving it down his throat.

(Hurry up! Give me more!)

Ryan is super tolerant and doesn't seem to mind the rough affection from Jacob. In fact, Ryan is becoming increasingly more interested in his big brother. When Jacob talks to Ryan while I'm feeding him, Ryan will turn his head away from the bottle in search of his big brother. He loves to sit, and from across the room, watch everything Jacob does. He barely bats an eyelash when Jacob sings too loudly in his ear, dangles a toy a hair's width in front of his face, or grabs his hands to play patty-cake.

(My big boy has been grabbing his toys for weeks)

Ryan already hates to miss out on everything his brother is doing. While Ryan will tolerate being on the floor for playtime, he prefers to be vertical so that he can see what Jacob is doing. Much of the day, we let him hang out in his walker (his feet don't touch so Jacob takes him for "rides"- Ryan has always had an incredibly strong neck) or in his Bumbo. The baby playmat doesn't get a ton of use anymore.

Ryan has definitelty started to recognize his name. I love how he breaks out into a wide grin when Jacob calls him and they catch each other's gaze.

Back to Jacob....I wish he would hurry up and turn 4 already. Whenever he tells people he is 3, they always look on in disbelief and I have to explain that he is ALMOST 4. Jacob's vocabulary is so impressive. The other day he asked me for a treat at the store. When I said "no," he replied, "Uhhh, I'm SO disappointed. That same day, he correctly used the following words: ridiculous, embarrassed, and frustrating. Whenever he hears a new word, he always asks me what it means. And he REMEMBERS. If anyone has any tips on explaining "shame" and "interesting" to an almost 4 year old, I'd love to hear them. Cause this is all I got:

Jacob: "Mommy, what does 'shame' mean?"
Me: "Shame is when you see someone leaving a dorm room early in the morning wearing the same clothes as the night before."

Jacob:  "Mommy, what does interesting mean?"
Me: "Interesting is what happens when Mommy takes a Vicodin with her Big Girl drink."

Today, we were in the car running errands and I was listening to news radio. Jacob was listening too, as he usually does, and asking me questions about everything he heard. "Mommy, what does 'dim' mean? Mommy, did an asteroid kill the dinosaurs, just like that guy on the radio said? Mommy, the guy said asteroids hit the earth everyday and they just burn up before they hurt people." Then we had an intelligent conversation about asteroids and planets and the dinosaurs. My mind was blown.

(My Spiderman)

Today, Jacob was really frustrating. He had so much little-boy energy to burn off and I had no energy to take him to the park. We were butting heads all day. He kept repeating all the words I said. He was doing the opposite of what I told him to do. He was hanging on me and getting underfoot and making messes everywhere he went. It wasn't until the end of the day, after I put Ryan down for bed and we sat together playing games, that it hit me. In his own little way, he was just begging for some attention, some friendship. His little devil-self instantly transformed into an angel the second I sat down to give him one-on-one time.  I immediately felt bad for all the times I told him or showed him that he was in the way.

Sometimes it's hard to remember that our kids are people, just like us. They need the same things we need: love, attention, interaction, socialization. They just don't always know how to ask for it. When I feel like I'm having a "rough" day with Jacob, I need to take a breather and focus on changing myself. Usually, he's just reacting to my attitude and lack of attention.

Who Needs A Roomba?

Who needs a Roomba when a baby is much cuter? And doesn't even take batteries!

(I call it the BROOMBA)

His feet don't quite reach yet.

So he needs a little help from big brother.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting on the couch, catching up on celebrity gossip.

Run

Yesterday, I returned to the road for my first run since throwing out my back last month. When running feels so good, who needs therapy? I felt nothing short of amazing during my run:

As I run, my shadow follows behind me, cast to the ground where it passes quickly over dry grass, flowers, and road ditches. Nothing but my own body, my own muscles, my own sweat, propelling me forward. I'm aware only of the regular panting of my breath, the rhythm of my Nike Pegasus shoes hitting the pavement. Wind whips around my ears, muting all external sounds so that the pounding of my heart reverbrates loudly. My legs and lungs are burning, endorphines pulsing warmly through my body.

I'm alone with my thoughts, which wander freely, grazing on memories, future dinner menus, weekend plans, and ambitions. For 3 miles, I am just me. Not a mom, not an attorney, not a wife. Just me. I am suddenly calm, relaxed, at peace. My life is in perspective. I feel balanced. Worries roll out like a tide. In their place, the simple sensation of feeling alive and aware of every muscle in my body. That feeling, as warm as a sun-beaten tide pool. Everything is fine.

My legs keep a steady pace as they take on the incline of the bridge. I'm running, suspended high above the inlet, above city level. The smell of saltwater becons memories of carefree childhood beach days. The crisp peaks of the mountain ranges to my left and my right, a mix of inspiration and intimidation, goad me forward.

I arrive one block from my house. My spirit wants to go on, but I'm anchored by my body, tired and sore. I'm tethered home by the stitch forming at my side. Wistfully, I jaunt up the front steps. My body a little more worn down, my mind a little clearer. I pause my conversation with myself and brace for the return of life and responsibility. As I unlace my shoes, I silently vow to return to the road, and to myself, tomorrow.