The Birthday Story

Every year, starting on November 29th, I tell Elwood the story of his birth while we cuddle at bedtime. The three night story starts with my 2nd ultra sound and ends with the first kiss I gave him.

It is a story of beginnings - his life, our family, my journey as a Mommy. To him, it's just Mommy talking and stroking his hair softly as we settle in for the night. To me, it is the most important story I have to tell him.

It is a story that continues to be written with every milestone, every holiday, every time he flashes that beautiful, devilish grin and bats those big brown eyes.

He is smart and funny and can be incredibly thoughtful. I have seen him sing his baby brother to sleep when no one else could console him. He is generous with his hugs and kisses.

He is also stubborn and defiant. He is my summer storm. The air becomes thick and hot and you know something is coming. Then, the dark clouds gather, the water pours down, lightening crashes and thunder booms. As soon as all that energy has been depleted, the sky clears, the rain stops and the world is cooler and fresher.

I say frequently that I was meant to be a mother. The good days are more fun than the bad ones, but I've come to accept that you can not have one without the other. That's one of the lessons Elwood taught me. He has taught me so much - and here I thought I was the one who was supposed to be teaching him.

Happy 5th Birthday to my Big Boy! Thank you for making me a Mommy.

Thanks - For Nothing

We had a wonderful weekend earlier this month. On Friday, after work, we surprised the boys by taking them out for cheeseburgers and a movie. On Saturday, we cleaned, Todd worked, the boys played, and after dinner (which no one complained about), Todd and Elwood played Wii while Finn and I watched. Sunday was more of the same and after wonder pork roast dinner shared with Grandma Whitehead, we all cuddled in bed for a movie.

I've never in my life been more grateful for nothing. Nothing to do, no where to go, no one to see. We just spent time with each other and enjoyed being a family.

I started thinking and realized that so many of the things that I am thankful for involve the letters n-o.

So, here a short list of the few things that I am thankful for.

I am thankful that NOne of my brothers are overseas anymore and that both are home with their families.

I am thankful that my children have NO health problems.

I am thankful that in quiet moments, I have NOthing but love for my husband (in loud ones, NOt so much, but that's okay).

I am thankful for when Finn says "NO" (but it's cuter when he says "pumpkin patch").

This year, I will give thanks for NOthing (and for everything).

The Sum of Her Years

36 years.

432 months.

1872 weeks.

13,104 days.

314,496 hours.

For the record, I hate math. But our lives are defined by numbers. Our age. The number of years we've been married. How old our children are. How long we've worked or lived somewhere. How long it's been since we graduated from high school. How many friends we have on Facebook. Numbers, always numbers.

But the numbers represent so much more than a finite unit of measurement. The numbers represent people and places who shape us. They form our life's equation

I have lived in 3 states, in 8 houses I called home.

I have spent 18 months pregnant and 15 months nursing.

I have spent countless hours driving north and south on Hwy. 55 between St. Louis and Cape Girardeau.

I spent at least 22 4th of July's watching fireworks on the beach in front of the Blarney Stone (and once, I made love to my husband in the same spot.)

In my mind, I can still count the number of stop lights between the house on Carew Street that we lived in and Lang Street where E-A lived (5, but it's been a long time since I've been there.)

Every Christmas, for at least 30 years, I have watched the Rankin/Bass "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer".

I have met one sitting President (and when I say met, I mean in a small room with about 20 people and Secret Service and he asked my name and had I been thinking clearly I could have said something profound and I have the picture to prove it - signed in gold ink!).

I have two beautiful little boys who drive me insane and then make my heart burst with joy within the span of 30 seconds at least 50 times a day.

I have one handsome husband who drives me insane and then makes my heart burst with joy within the span of 30 seconds at least 50 times a day.

I have a family tree with many, many branches that continues to grow every year.

So what does all of this add up to? Me - Cara Lucia Winslow Mayberry, born September 30, 1974 in New Hartford, NY.

Some days, I wish it added up to someone else. But every once in while, I think I rock. And as I get older, I have more of those days. So bring it on - I'm ready to do some more addition.

Dear Finn...

While I don't want to write something that someday, you might look back at and be completely mortified by, I do want you to know how you were meant to be to complete our family.

Daddy and I had just decided that we were going to try for another child. We weren't sure if we were ready, but we knew that if we were going to, we needed to start trying. About a week later you were conceived. On the first try. Thanks to good timing and Elwood sleeping late, you were conceived on December 15, 2006.

My pregnancy was wonderful. None of the issues that I had when I was pregnant with your brother arose, so not only did I love being pregnant, I felt pretty good this time around. I would talk to you while I was at work and make you move if I felt you had been too quiet. And everyone enjoyed Mommy's cravings - especially all the late night s'mores that Daddy and Elwood and I had many, many times.

You were born without complications. Just a beautiful, perfect little boy. You nursed like a champ from the very beginning. I loved holding you, cuddled against my chest, and watch your big, questioning eyes take in the world around you.

I know that things haven't been as smooth since then. But you amaze me every day with your progress. I know you get frustrated that Mommy and Daddy don't always understand you, but know this. We love you so very, very much. The moment you came into our lives, our family was complete. We had no idea how much we could love both you and Elwood, but you made our hearts grow and continue to every day.

Happy Birthday baby. You are my sunshine.

Dancing In The Dark

I had forgotten what it felt like. I had forgotten how free I felt. I had forgotten how the sounds filled my body with joy and the only thing I could do was dance.

I had forgotten how much I loved going to concerts and sitting on the lawn and being washed over by the guitar and the bass and the drums until there was nothing but me and the music.

I went to a lot of concerts in my teens and early twenties. It was probably my favorite part of the freedom I began to gain in high school. I would go with my friends, I would go with my Mom, heck, I even went once or twice with my Dad. Some were amazing (like Meat Loaf at the Fox Theater), some are now embarrassing to admit to (*cough* Nelson at the American Theater*cough*), some were historic (the 2nd to last Grateful Dead show EVER at Riverport), and some were downright bizarre (Spinal Tap, also at Riverport.) But at each one, I had the same feeling - I was free and it didn't matter who I was or wasn't with, what I was wearing or if my make up and hair were in place. The music would start and that was all I cared about.

Riverport, now known as Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, was always my favorite. The lawn tickets were usually affordable and it was a great way to spend a summer night. I spent my 21st birthday there at a Jimmy Buffet concert with my Mom, my Auntie DiDi and some very good friend who provided margaritas in the limo on the way there. I remember looking up at the stars during a REO Speedwagon concert during "Can't Fight This Feeling" and wishing on a star for the boy I was pining for. I still laugh about the date that bought me a rose at the Ted Nugent concert.

Sunday night, I was again on that familiar lawn. Other than the name change, the venue hasn't changed much. I have. I'm about 6 years older than the last time I was there (Poison & Kiss). I have two toddlers at home. I'm not the same person I was when I started going there or the person I was the last time I was there.

But when the music started, I had that old familiar feeling. As Tom Petty launched into his second song, "You Don't Know How It Feels", I felt that rush of freedom and I started to dance. And I danced until my legs hurt and I sang until I was almost hoarse. At one point, I caught my husband trying to record me with his phone. When I asked what he was doing, he gave me a big smile, kissed me, and said "I love to see you dancing like that." He hadn't seen that free in a long time either.

The concert was his Anniversary/Father's Day/Birthday present, but it was a present for me too. I remembered that feeling - the one I only got when the music was so loud my body would shake with the beating of the drums. It felt good.

Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

Remember when you were a teenager and being an adult seemed to be the answer to everything. You would have control over your life and be able to make your own decisions and determine your own destiny. There would be no curfew, no age limits, no restrictions on your freedom.

That was what you were living for - that time when you would call all the shots.

Boy, were we wrong about how great being an adult would be!

I enjoy some of the aspects. I wouldn't want to live thru high school again for anything short of 10 figures (yes, the price for me to relive my high school years is $1,000,000,000 - any takers?). I like that I can vote and drink at the same time should I so choose. I can go to any movie I want and no one asks where my Mom is. Most times, I am treated with respect by sales people and wait staff who realize that yes, I will purchase something and yes, I will leave a tip.

But that whole thing about making your own decisions - I didn't know how lucky I was. I would give anything some days for someone just to take the reigns and say "This is what you need to do" or "I will fix this". Not that Todd and I don't do that for each other - that's part of the compact called marriage. But it would be nice for both of us to be able to look at someone when the questions are too hard or the choices before us seem too confusing and know that they will take care of it.

I also wouldn't be opposed to being sent to my room once in a while or grounded. The time to cool down and to think would be lovely. But now, when my patience runs thin or my emotions are out of control, I can't turn and run and cry into my pillow and lament how unfair life is. I have my children and my husband and my job and all the other responsibilities I so desperately wanted to consider now.

But, I can't control time. I was going to grow up to be an adult whether I wanted to or not. So I will try to handle it with dignity and grace and set a good example for my children.

(I will also revert to weird nail polish colors like Yoga-To-Get-This-Blue and Funky Dunkey to make me feel a little less adult!)

Was and Is

For me, Daddy was:

• The carver of pumpkins and the trimmer of Christmas trees
• My Saturday morning cooking show and the grill master extraordinaire
• The doctor and pharmacist (Portuguese moonshine made any ailment better!)
• My own personal historian
• A pyromaniac who was lucky to have friends in high places
• A balladeer (especially after a few beers)
• My champion, even when I was in the wrong
• Always there for me and he always will be

For my children, Daddy is:

• The first one to change their diapers, as I was unable to stand up
• The originator of the Baby Face Eating Machine and the Tickle Wake Up Call
• The one they don't ask to stop singing
• The DJ for our family dance parties
• The bear hug giver (and when needed, the gentle belly rubber)
• The one who keeps my tendency to try and keep them babies in check
• Always there for them and always will be

(Note: I was unable to find a decent picture of my father and I as I don't have my wedding pictures loaded on my Mac and that is last decent picture of the two of us I remember being taken. But they exist and someday I will display them!)

Love Stinks - But It's So Worth It

Love is hard. It's only easy in the movies. True love requires patience and understanding and time. It requires a sense of humor and occasionally a swift kick in the ass.

Todd and I are not the perfect couple, but I've come to discover that there is no such thing as a perfect couple. Even celebrity couples who appear perfect on the red carpet probably go home and argue over who left the cap off of the toothpaste. Your friends - the ones who you look at and think "Why can't we be like them?" - have their own issues and struggles. Perfect does not exist in a marriage.

But Todd and I have patience and understanding and a sense of humor - we also occasionally have to give each other the aforementioned swift kick. We have days were we are in perfect sync and are a great team. And other days, we are two drunk monkeys careening in opposite directions. But that's where the time part comes in. We have the gift of tomorrow to try again to make things right.

Nine years ago we promised to be with each other for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. And admittedly, some days we question whether we were in our right minds to make those kind of broad, sweeping vows before our family and friends and God.

But then we look at our children. And we find ourselves holding hands on drive home from a particularly bad restaurant experience with them. And we laugh. And we know we were right.

Happy Anniversary Todd. I love you more today than the day we married. I look forward to getting to the point where we can laugh about all of this together, sitting on a front porch in rocking chairs, holding hands.

My Shrek Line

People mark their lives in different ways. For the last nine years, mine has been marked by the "Shrek" movies.

It started in June of 2001. The weekend before our wedding, Todd and I were at each other's throats. We were both stressed and we weren't handling it well. I think the point where I told Todd that he was incapable of packing his own shaving kit was the high point (or low point if you prefer).

We decided we needed a break, so we headed to the movies. As fans of animation, we were intrigued by "Shrek", plus, we needed something light and frothy. As we came back to our senses, we fell in love with that big green guy and his cast of merry men and women. Two hours later, we left the theater sane and smiling. I give Shrek part of the credit for the fact that we are about to celebrate our ninth anniversary

Fast forward three years to 2004 - the make or break year of my career and our marriage. The second Shrek came out and I listened to "Accidentally In Love" over and over and over again, missing home and Todd. We went to see that movie under stress too, but this time the movie alone couldn't fix it. My career broke that year, but our marriage made it. I don't know if it's connected, but this is my favorite of the films thus far.

In 2007, when the third installment came out, I was pregnant with Finn and Elwood was less than two so going to see the movie in a theater was not possible. But the second that DVD came out, we had in our hot little hands. And that was when Elwood fell in love with Donkey. That Christmas, he got the talking Donkey doll and you would have though we had given him the Holy Grail. Plus, that year, "Shrek the Halls" became one of the few Christmas specials we enjoyed watching as a family (I force my Rankin/Bass addiction on Todd every year).

So, as the new and final movie opens this Friday, I look forward to bringing my two little Shrek fans to see it. Shrek is part of our family forever and I know that years from now, when we think about the princess locked in the highest room, in the tallest tower, we'll remember all of these important moments in our lives.

Sunshine in the Rain

I Am

I am Mommy.

I am the righter of wrongs, the mediator and the kisser of boo boos.

I am chief cook (but not always the chief bottle washer.) I know your favorite meals and which treat will make everything better.

I am your security blanket. When we cuddle at bed time, I keep all of the evil in the world at bay, even if it's just for a moment.

I am the woman all others will be judged by in your eyes. I hope I set a good example.

I am daughter to a mother whose love is fierce. We push each others' button like no one else can, but when she hears that catch in my voice that says something is wrong, she is right there for me. She is the first call when I doubt my own skills as a mother.

I am granddaughter of strong, beautiful matriarchs who are now my guardian angels. I feel their love and influence every day.

I am niece to women who put the "fun" dysfunctional. Be it buying me an Yves St. Laurent dress or making a me a copy of the Beatles White Album, they have helped form the woman I am today.

I am cousin, in-law, and friend to countless other women who have graced my life in so many different ways. Be they older or younger, close by or far away, they each have claimed a tiny piece of my heart and soul.

I am blessed.

Breathing

We've all been sick for the last couple of weeks. First it was Finn with his ear infections. Then it was me with a sinus/throat infection and Elwood with an upper respiratory infection brought on by allergies. When Todd started coughing and blowing technicolor stuff out of his head last week, he didn't even bother going to see the doctor. He called, gave them the run down from the rest of us and his current symptoms and they set him up an antibiotic.

But today, for the first time in two weeks, I can breath easily. Both literally and figuratively.

My nose is no longer full of the crud and crap from my illness and my head and heart are no longer filled with the fear and anticipation of the last couple of weeks.

Finn had his hearing retest on Friday and the results were much better. They are no longer concerned about any significant hearing loss. They still want to do another test in a couple of months to test specific frequencies, but this is just a precaution. He can hear and that is not the cause of his speech delay.

His speech therapy will continue, but we are already hearing new words. The word cup is coming more frequently and easily. He said "coffee" in the car the other day - a word we've never heard him say. And last night, he said his name. "Pinn" was the sweetest sound I've ever heard. I know he's said it before for the baby sitter, but to hear it come out so easily was just music to my ears.

And Elwood has had his own first this week. We had our first evaluation with the school district to make sure he will be ready for kindergarten in 2011. Because of his birthday, he will be one of the older kids in class (Finn will have the same problem), but they do a 4 year old evaluation to make sure the kids are on track and don't need the pre-K program. Elwood was so well behaved. He did great with the health exams (gotta clean those ears out better!) and the first two tasks. He played with the play-do in between tests and didn't come looking for us. Unfortunately, by the time he got to the language test, his patience had grown thin. He scored far lower than all of us know he is capable of, including the teacher giving the test. While Todd was frustrated, we know that he is fine and that the few things we do need to work on will come easily to him.

Yesterday, Elwood went to his first friend birthday party. He has been to birthday parties for the children of our friends before, but this was the first time that he went for one of his friends. When we got there, his friend ran up and hugged him and I only saw Elwood when he came running by me or or when I had to retrieve him from the bedroom to watch the birthday boy open his presents. He started to argue when it was time to go, but soon stopped and left without tears or anger.

This was a good weekend. I'm so proud of both of my boys. I'm so proud of our little family.
I'm so not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. But if I didn't have Monday, we wouldn't get to Friday.

The Other Shoe?

Elwood spoiled me.

Other than a few issues at birth, he was a happy, healthy baby boy, who grew into a happy, healthy, sassy toddler. He hit all of his milestones early - walked at 9 months, talked at 10 months, and making full sentences by the time he was 13 months old. Other than well baby visits, we made two sick visits to the doctor and one emergency room visit by the time he was two. There were no worries about his health or development.

I always said to my husband and family, "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

I think Finn may be "the other shoe."

Despite a trouble free pregnancy and easy delivery, Finn started having issues at about 4 months.

Well, 3 months if I had listened to my husband. He noted that Finn's head always lolled to one side and that he never held it straight. I waved it off for a month saying he was a newborn, he didn't have good muscle control. But then others noticed it too - so I finally asked the doctor.

Finn was diagnosed with torticolis the same appointment he was diagnosed with his first ear infection. Torticolis meant that the muscles on one side of his neck were tight while the other side was loose. It was probably from his position in the womb. Luckily, we were able to correct it with 6 months of physical therapy.

But the ear infections, they kept coming. One about every 3 or 4 months. Some worse than others. He had been on antibiotics more times in the first year of his life than Elwood has been in his entire life.

He is tiny. He eats - there are days he eats more than Elwood. And I save the low calorie, low fat stuff for me. They get whole milk, butter, real yogurt - all the stuff to help fatten them up (with the doctor's okay). He has cousins that are a year or more younger than him that weigh as much as he does. His jeans fall off and when he sucks in his gut, you can see his ribs.

But all of that was okay. Now, we're facing an issue that scares me so much - it's an irrational fear that I can't control.

Finn is speech delayed and we don't quite know why. His understanding is normal, but his speech is delayed by about a year. And his pronunciation of the words he does say on a regular basis isn't the best.

We've got him in speech therapy and we're learning what to do to help him. One thing we needed to find out was if his hearing was okay after all those ear infections. We did his hearing evaluation this morning and it didn't go well. Turned out that Finn has a double ear infection which could have skewed the results, but what testing they could get done on my cranky boy showed that he is outside of the normal range. Words like "permanent hearing loss" were uttered in the same sentence with my baby's name.

It struck me deep inside with a visceral reaction. I've been a wreck all day. I didn't turn to food, but I reverted to the compulsive shopping that I do just to feel like I'm doing something. It's a habit that has caused me much trouble in my life and I have been in control of it for the past 6 months now. But today triggered it. Luckily, it was just a trip to Toys R Us, a sweater for me to wear on Easter, and take out for dinner. I scared my husband because I called him laughing and crying at the same time when I discovered that I had been wearing my shirt inside out all afternoon.

My rational self is starting to take over now. My husband said this morning that if he had an ear infection we should not do the evaluation (yes, I admitted that he was right twice in this post). My parents and other family and friends have all responded with supportive and encouraging words. I can see thru the fog of mother's guilt and fear to see that 1.) We are probably going to get a much better result when we retest in 2 weeks, 2.) Even if it is not better, the loss is minimal and my son can hear, just not at lower volumes, and 3.) In the grand scheme of things, this is a minimal obstacle to overcome.

So, if this is the other shoe, I'll face it. At least it only looks like it's a canvas sneaker and not a steel-toed work boot.

I'm Accountable - To Me

I finally started my New Year's diet a couple of weeks ago.

Like 90% of people who make New Years resolutions, I resolved to get healthy and loose weight. And, like 99% if people who make New Years resolutions, it lasted all of about a week.

But a few weeks ago, I'd just had enough. I weighed more than I did when I got pregnant with Elwood in 2005, which had previously been my highest weight. And I couldn't blame in on the kids - I lost all of my pregnancy weight, plus an additional 10 lbs. after Elwood and lost all but 5 lbs. after Finn. This wasn't baby weight - this was me. All me.

I've always eaten what I wanted when I wanted. And I have come to love to cook. I love food - it is comfort and memory and art and skill. It is the way I show love and appreciation. It is the way I deal with stress and grief. It is how I reward myself and my family and how I apologize when I feel I've been treating them badly. Happy or sad - I turn to food.

Even in my late 20's, when metabolism slowed down and I could see how things I ate were changing my body, it didn't change anything. I tried Weight Watchers a couple of times and it would work until I tried to do it on my own or something would trigger my eating and then the pounds just came back on.

After I stopped working in politics, the weight really went on. And before I thought I needed to do something about it, Elwood came along. And nursing was the best form of weight loss I had ever seen.

A year later, I got pregnant with Finn and went thru the cycle again. And I lost almost all the baby weight again. I started to fit into my pre-Elwood clothes. But that didn't last.

So I justified it. I was Mommy - it didn't matter if I was fat. As long as I was taking care of them, whatever else I did was okay. There would be time later to fix this.

But at 193 lbs (yes, I know that I just admitted that - sucks to see it here, but it's the truth), I wasn't being the best Mommy or wife or person I could be. I was tired and lethargic. I hate my body and wanted to keep in wrapped up in flannel pjs all the time - and I mean all the time. Even my old fat clothes didn't fit - thank God my Auntie DiDi worked at a Lane Bryant so at least I could wear things that didn't make me look as awful as I felt.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I hit my limit. I don't want to be skinny. I don't want to be the weight all the charts say I should be - I don't think it's right for my body type anyways. So far, I'm lucky that there aren't any health consequences for my lack of attention to diet and exercise. But I'm sure that would have been in my near future.

I'm doing old fashioned calorie counting and exercise. I don't feel deprived - I can eat what I want, but I'm more conscious of the serving sizes and preparation. And there have been a couple of days where I went over my target, but there have been days I was under my target too, so I figure it all will even out in the end.

And the exercise - that's the big surprise. I hate to exercise. I've had gym memberships that were just a huge waste of money. I avoid going to the park specifically to walk - I make sure there's a sizable break where the kids play. The treadmill my husband got me years ago hadn't been used by me for years. But now - I LOVE IT! I don't know if it's that my body had been craving the activity or that I get a guaranteed 30 minutes to myself almost every night, but it's been fabulous. I look forward to it. I am starting to insist that it's part of the schedule.

(And my husband is all for this by the way - he tells me that he loves me and that I'm beautiful when I'm fat and when I'm not, but I know he's happy about this change in my attitude.)

So, as of week two, I'm down almost 6 lbs. And I've got my first goal in sight - that black pencil skirt I got for Christmas. It will go great with the fabulous shoes my Mom just bought me - I see a Mad Men-esque Easter outfit in my future.

I also see a summer where I won't want to change out of my bathing suit immediately after getting out of the pool. I see walking in the park to walk and if it's not to walk, I see a session on the treadmill later that night. I see teaching my children good habits now rather than have them learn later because I get sick. I see pulling some of those old lacy things out of the back of my pajama drawer (and that's all I'm going to say ;-) .)

I see the me that I not only want to be but need to be.

Proof of Life

So much surrounding Elwood's actual birth is blurry. After 24 hours in the hospital and 19 in labor, I was exhausted. When my doctor came in the check me and I still hadn't progressed beyond 6.5 cm, he called it.

Quickly, I was prepped for a c-section. The combination of drugs and nerves had given me the shakes and made me nauseous. I had lost all track of time. I knew my husband was scrubbing up, but it felt like forever until he was next to me in the operating room. The nurses and anesthesiologist were amazing, but I had never had surgery before and I was about to have my first child, so there was no calming me.

The started the procedure and explained what was happening. All I could do was cry and try desperately to focus on my husband. I had been warned that with a c-section, the baby may not cry immediately. But cry he did - loud and clear. Elwood had been perfectly happy where he was and now he was pissed off.

As they held up my 8 lb. 12 oz. first born so that I could see him over the drape, a small drop of blood fell onto the cloth. They wrapped him up and brought him to me so I could see and kiss him and than he and Todd were gone.

After that, I kept my eyes trained on that drop of blood. I willed my eyes to focus on it. Everything was surreal and fuzzy, but there, there was my proof - proof of the life I had just brought into this world.

I regret that my recollection of Elwood's birth and the first hours of his life are a hazy jumble in my mind. But I will always remember seeing him for the first time and focusing on that drop of blood that proved that he wasn't a dream.

I'm A Bad, Bad Blogger

Hello old friend, my blog. How are you?

You probably think I had forgotten about you, but I haven't. I've written things to post on you several times in the past 6 months. You don't believe it, but I have. I think about you often.

I'm going to be a better blogger. I promise. We'll spend more time together and I'll post pictures on you and the things I write down on paper will be transferred onto you. In fact, as proof, I'll post what I wrote for Elwood's birthday, even though that was 3 months ago.

Be back soon,
Cara