The Bedtime Blues

Scene: A wizened old blues man sitting on a bench on a front porch. It's a humid night in the bayou. As the crickets chirp, and the soft wind blows, the man begins to sing. Cue music:

(Ba dum da dum)
Gonna sing you a song
(Ba dum da dum)
'Bout the bedtime blues
(Ba dum da dum)
'Bout two little boys, who don't want to follow the rules.

Oooo, well they not sleeping
And Mama is weeping
And Daddy he don't, well he don't know what to do.

Yeah we all, we all, we all
Got the bedtime blues

Usually, I leave the musical expression to my husband, but I felt that there was no better way to express the hell that our current sleep issues are than to sing the blues.

We've always had sleep issues in our house. We co-slept with Elwood and from that point on, one of the four of us usually sleep poorly - usually, me or Todd.

Over the summer, we got Elwood to sleep in his bed by himself for a WHOLE MONTH. He was rewarded with a trip to the water park and we thought "Ah, one down, one to go."

Not so much .

We have days, even whole weeks at a time, where he wants to go to bed "like a big boy" and he does it just fine. But soon enough, he "needs" somebody to lay down with him or I find it easier to lay down with both boys rather than try and get them down separately. Any progress we make goes right down the tubes.

The last few nights have been particularly bad, however, and Todd and I are at a loss.

One or both of the boys have been up til 11:00 p.m. or so for the last several nights. And when I say up, I don't mean fighting sleep while cuddled up watching a Disney movie. I mean running, jumping, jabbering insanity. Elwood becomes "Chatty Cathy" around 9:30 or so and doesn't stop.

And then there's Finn's temper tantrums. They are partly due to the speech delay and his frustration. They are also partly related to him being the reincarnation of Genghis Khan. He is turning into a little bully and when he doesn't get what he wants, when he wants it, he's sure to let you know his displeasure. Those kick in as soon as you try to make him lie down.

I don't quite know what to do. I'm hoping that whatever has gotten into them passes soon. I'm not sure how much more of this we can take.

Until then, I guess I'll be singing the blues.

Or crying in the fetal position under my desk at work.

(Ba dum da dum)

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!)