Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

Three Little Words

Posted on Written by

There are a handful of moments in your life that you just know while it’s happening you’re going to remember for the rest of your life.

Motherhood is full of them; the first time your child smiles at you (and you know it’s not gas), the first time you hear them say “mama”, where and when their first steps take place, and this…

After spending a few hours last Sunday at the world’s most beautiful shopping mall, South Coast Plaza, located dangerously close to our new home in Orange County, we were in the car driving home and I was asking Lucas if he had a good time and reviewing all of the fun things we did and saw.

We talked about the cars at the toy store and the dinosaur on display in the window, whose mouth would open and shut, the elevator button he pushed, the escalator we rode, the big balloons for sale in the center of the mall, the colorful horses on the carousel (that we also rode) that went up and down and the great dinner he ate.

It was an animated conversation and he was responding enthusiastically to all of my questions and being really cute and playful.

As we were nearing home, he let out a perfectly timed “ouf” as in, “wow, we did do a lot and boy, am I exhausted!”. Todd and I both giggled and I said, “I love you, Lucas.” To which he replied…

“I do too”.

And just like that, I welled up and got tears in my eyes.

Okay, so it wasn’t a direct “I love you”, but he knew what he was saying and it melted my heart.

Since then, Daddy (of course) has gotten several actual “I love yous”, but I’m still only getting the “I do too”.

Whether he means he loves himself or me, I’ll take it and I’ll always remember the first time he said it.

For those of you with today off for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I hope you are enjoying it with the ones you love.

This piece was featured on Nichole’s blog, In These Small Moments, in her weekly feature, Small Moments Spotlights — Week 3 on February 4, 2011.

post signature

Related Posts:

  • No Related Posts

Her Secret*

Posted on Written by

It had become more than a necessity.

It was now her crutch.

It was more than taking the edge off, it was her coping mechanism.

She was lonely, tired, stressed out and didn’t care.

Beer, wine and the occasional shot of Jägermeister wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Never much of a drinker before motherhood or all of the disappointments and responsibilities, she learned to acquire a taste.

She used to believe that she wouldn’t smell like alcohol if she drank vodka, because vodka is unflavored. It’s made from the finest winter wheat and the softest glacier waters.

She soon learned this was nonsense. Vodka is hugely alcoholic (80 proof) and she wreaked of a distillery after drinking it.

She rarely saw her husband, he traveled most weekdays and on the weekends, they tried their best to stay out of each others way. Neither of them could remember the last time they had a conversation which involved looking into each others eyes.

She tended to the children and each of their every single needs; speech therapy, birthday parties, play dates, swimming lessons, laundry, meals… the list was never ending and overwhelming.

She did her best to hide the smell from the children and anyone else she had to come in contact with by carrying Altoids and other minty gums, hard candy and throat lozenges. She claimed she had terrible allergies that gave her a scratchy throat. Halls brand cough drops were the best to disguise the stench.

She was beautiful once. A prom queen. An aspiring attorney, doctor, scientist. She could have been anything, but only completed two and half years of college and married the first guy that asked her to. She was pregnant before their first anniversary and had two more children immediately following. They were 4, 2, and 9 months.

This week’s bottle was from Russia with love:

1894 St. Petersburg
Imperia Russian Vodka
Crystal Quartz
Filtered
40% alcohol by volume 750 ml.

It should last her three days.

There were many days that were a complete blur. Days when she couldn’t account for a single thing she said or did. She missed lunch dates, doctor appointments, pick-ups and drop offs. She tended to the kids, but her needs always came first. She was numb and she liked it that way.

Hidden way back in the cupboard, behind the multiple boxes of cereal, an old broken coffee maker and the glass cake plate that only was used three times a year, for each of her children’s birthdays, is where she kept her secret.

She let out an audible sigh of relief just reaching for it. Except today, is was empty.

She panicked as she wondered, how did that happen? She had just cracked it open the night before.

Scurrying around the house, she knew there had to be another bottle somewhere.

She checked under the sink.

Empty.

Her underwear drawer.

Empty.

The diaper bag.

Empty.

The back of the toilet.

Empty.

How much had she drank today? She didn’t want to know.

She only wanted more.

She would have to leave the children alone in front of the television and make a run to the liquor store.

Again.

*While I have been known to enjoy a bloody Mary or cranberry vodka with no less than three limes from time to time, this post is purely fiction. And the bottle I found in my pantry is probably over three years old!

This post is for The Red Dress Club’s writing meme, Red Writing Hood. This weeks prompt is: grab something out of your pantry and write a short piece – using all the words in the ingredients. It can be fiction or non-fiction, poetry or prose.

post signature

Related Posts:

Never Fade Away

Posted on Written by

I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived. – Little Bee by Chris Cleave

Everyone loves a good scar story.
We all have at least one.
I have six.
Little reminders that have faded over time of my vanity, immaturity and close calls…
In order in which they were received:
1. Inside left leg – I had a benign tumor removed when I was four years old and had to wear a full leg cast for eight weeks. The scar is roughly six inches long and I have only ever been comfortable with my husband touching it.
2. Left hand – an inch long scar from hitting a mirror in an elevator of our apartment complex upon having an argument with my father. I NEVER thought the mirror would shatter into a million pieces. Nice reminder of my teenage angst, huh? The really sad part is I don’t even remember what the fight was about.
3. Right leg, just below my knee – a mess of a scar that thankfully only shows up when I tan from a motorbike accident that I was in on my birthday in 1985 with my dear friend Sophie. I was the passenger and alcohol was involved.
4. Center of my forehead – a quarter inch horizontal scar from a pea-sized calcium deposit I had removed.
5. Right heel – a three incher from a “pump bump” (heel spur) I had removed in college. What woman doesn’t want to wear heels from time to time?
6. Right breast – a half inch long reminder that a lump I found could have been a lot worse.
I have other scars too, the ones that were self inflicted; ear ring holes (at one point I had four, now only two remain) and three very meaningful tattoos that I don’t regret getting even for one second.
And then there are the scars you can’t see, the ones on my heart made by the losses in my life. The ones full of memories and love and that will never fade away.
This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: Prompt 1.) Scarred.

post signature

Related Posts:

Milkaholic

Posted on Written by

Lucas has become completely obsessed with his bottle and asks for it all the time!

I hear “ba ba” so much it gives me a headache and usually it’s before 9 AM.

It’s become somewhat of a joke… he’ll waltz up to me, put his hand my leg very affectionately and say “ba ba” and sway his body back and worth, to which I respond very enthusiastically, “no ba ba, how about a sippy instead?”.

He rarely takes me up on this offer.

I know that the bottle and/or milk bring him a lot of comfort and I would rather he have a bottle than be sucking on a pacifier, but he is seriously addicted and I’m starting to worry.

Our pediatrician told us that he should ONLY have 24 oz. of milk a day, which we try to limit to first thing in the morning, just before he naps and at bedtime.

Most of the time this ration works pretty well, but it doesn’t keep him from asking for his beloved beverage.

Our pediatrician also told us that he should be drinking solely from a sippy cup by the time he was 18 months.

Oops!

Lucas knows how to drink from a sippy cup, but prefers the bottle.

He’s never drank water or juice from a bottle and refuses to drink his favorite libation from a sippy cup. Bizarre, no?

At this rate, I feel like weening him off the bottle is going to take FOREVER! Any advice?

post signature

Related Posts:

  • No Related Posts

On Any Given Day

Posted on Written by

On any given day, Lucas might sleep until 6:00, but chances are he’s probably already been up 45 minutes by then.

On any given day, he will ask for a “ba ba” 900 times, but only get three.

On any given day, there will be two poopy diapers, countless messes to clean up and several expletives muttered as cars, trains and other toys are tripped over, all before noon.

On any given day, phone calls to and from Daddy will be made and photos will be texted.

On any given day, battles will be won and lost, tears shed and tantrums thrown.

On any given day, a walk and some fresh air calm us both.

On any given day, stories are read, songs sung and silly dances invented.

On any given day, one of us will feel like their head is going to explode from saying “no” and the other one, from hearing it.

On any given day, nothing will sound sweeter than hearing “Mommy”.

On any given day, bunnies, goldfish, cheese sticks, yogurt, bananas, grapes and/or graham crackers will all be consumed.

On any given day, an outing has been planned to the park, library, book store, museum, or friend’s house.

On any given day, giggles will erupt as hugs, kisses and tickles are delivered.

On any given day, body parts, animal sounds, numbers, colors and the alphabet will be practiced.

On any given day, dinner will be enjoyed together as a family.

On any given day, bath time will be procrastinated, teeth brushing a struggle and bedtime rejoiced.

On any given day, patience is tried, wills are tested and guilt is rampant, but nothing but love is shared between a mother and her son.

post signature

Related Posts:

  • No Related Posts

Normal

Posted on Written by

Liz is the brilliant face behind a belle, a bean & a chicago dog, where she shares her adventures with her two adorable daughters, (self proclaimed) metrosexual husband, yummy sounding recipes that even I could attempt and musings on life in general. Her writing is straight forward, witty and always leaves me wanting more.

I am proud to say that Liz is also my fairy blogmother and has advised me on several blogging quandaries with an ease and candor that I respect.

She has to be one of the busiest and most dedicated bloggers in the blogosphere. On top of all the writing she does, I rarely visit a blog that she hasn’t already been to and left a heartfelt comment.

Everyone loves Liz, but if for some reason you aren’t already following her on Facebook, Twitter (she tweets a lot!!), her BBCD Blog Frog Community, or Our Mommyhood, you must be living under a rock or have terrible Internet access and need to right away!

I am happy to have Liz here today and so, without further adieu, here what “normal” looks like in her home.

********************************************************************************

I’m so honored to be posting at Letters For Lucas today, though I was even more honored the day Tonya asked me to be her fairy blogmother!

When Tonya and I were talking about this guest post, she asked me about my “Normal.” It’s kinda funny that she chose that topic because it’s something my husband and I talk a lot about.

He and I moved states away from all our family and friends, and everything we knew, over 7 years ago. We hadn’t been married even 2 years when he accepted his first outside sales position, so all the “life accomplishments” you do as a married couple pretty much began after our relocation.

Like, our first (and second and third) home.

Two babies.

And countless new jobs and promotions.

Right from the start, our Normal wasn’t typical.

Another big part of our Normal is that my husband works out of the home. All the time. As in, there is no physical building nor company location within 500 miles of us.

A lot of people’s minds are truly boggled by this, and I’m not sure why. Though once they seem to process this abnormal bit of information, the next question is always, “How is it having your husband around the house all day, every day?“

I usually giggle and say, “It’s a good thing we like each other, because we certainly do spend a LOT of time together!“

He and I are both creatures of habit, which I find to be a good thing. Plus, kids thrive with routine. Since I’m home with them all day, every day, our family routine definitely helps me with the kid wrangling. And working out of the home takes a LOT of discipline, so routine is helpful to his productivity and success, too.

Our routine nature and his working out of the home also means that all he has to do is catch a whiff of what’s cooking, glance at the clock to see if it’s 5 or so, and walk downstairs so we can eat dinner as a family.

Again, not very Normal.

I completely realize that we have some unique benefits with our current set-up. But with all the good come sacrifices, too, like relocation and being a part-time single mom when he’s on the road overnight for work.

So, I guess my Normal could be summed up as this:

-Moved away
-Husband works out of the home
-Husband travels overnight for work
-SAHM
-Dinner at 5

It would be hard for me to imagine what life would be like if Craig suddenly had an office job or if I began working full-time, just like other people can’t imagine having their spouse around the house all day or picking up their lives and moving like we have.

And I totally get that.

And respect that.

Because we each have our own Normal.

What is your Normal like? Would you change your Normal?
post signature

Related Posts:

Perfect Balance

Posted on Written by

New Year’s Eve used to mean buying tickets to the hottest party, scoring an invitation, going all out to have one of our own, or having a nice, long romantic dinner for two followed by drinking like a fish.

This year, we had an 18 month old and had no babysitter, so our New Year’s eve was quiet and spent at a nearby Mexican restaurant. We were home by 7:00.

The salsa and margaritas were free flowing, but one hour is about Lucas’ threshold for dining out.

I was able to capture these cute photos of him with a balloon using my new favorite iPhone app, Mobile Photobooth. However…

If the first week of the 2011, is any indication to what the rest of the year has in store for me and my little family, I’m thrilled!

So far, Lucas and I have been to Pretend City Children’s Musem, explored a new park, went to a friend’s house for a fun play date and have made several successful trips to Target together in an effort to stock and organize our new home.

I’ve worked out four times, had lunch with a friend, a date night with Todd, have seen four awesome movies (The American, Inception, Rabbit Hole and The Town), one was even in the theater and spent a glorious hour in a spa chair!

It’s been the perfect balance of family time, friend time, me time and exploring our new surroundings. What more could I ask for?

This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: Prompt 2.) If the way you spent your New Year’s Eve is any indication of how the rest of the year will go, how would you say your future is looking right about now?

post signature

Related Posts:

  • No Related Posts

The Terrible Twos: A Preview?

Posted on Written by

It seems as though with 18 months came the onset of the “terrible twos”.

And the stink eye…Mean, huh?

I was not prepared for either one.

Lucas has been having melt downs pretty much since the day we brought him home. They were few and far between and we learned very quickly that he can’t be in one place for very long, needing and relishing change to his environment. But now, these melt downs are full blown temper tantrums and they can be wicked.

There are two to three a day and we have learned to minimize our interference and just let him go through it. It’s safer for everyone involved.

We have never hit Lucas. As parents we do not believe in spanking, so we never will (I have been tempted for sure, but have refrained).

But he hits.

When he’s mad or frustrated or bonks himself on the corner of a table, he hits it. He hits us. He hits himself.

It’s scary.

Where do children learn to do this? Is it a natural instinct, a protection mechanism? Is it a boy thing, or do girls do it too? When does it subside? Please tell me it subsides!

More than once recently, Lucas has been put in a Time-Out for hitting and throwing things with very little to zero effectiveness. He thinks it’s a game. We don’t want Time-Out to be a punishment necessarily, but an opportunity for him to reset himself, i.e. modify his crappy behavior.

I have read that 18 months is not too early to start this practice, but we are novices and it doesn’t seem to be going very well so far.

Today, I bought a designated Time-Out chair. Hopefully it will help him understand we mean business. Any Time-Out advice?

When did the terrible twos begin in your house and what else can we expect from them? I miss my sweet boy.

Lucas turned 19 months on Thursday. I can’t wait to see what this month will bring. Wish us luck…

post signature

Related Posts:

  • No Related Posts

Vegas On My Mind

Posted on Written by

An amusement park for adults.
Beautiful bodies in barely there bikinis.
Casinos full of eager players trying to keep their cool and their cash.
Dressed to the nines, dancing until the stilettos must come off and the sun comes up.
Entertainment everywhere you turn.
Fearless, foolish, fun.
Great friends getting together for a girl’s trip!
Hot spots, high energy and hangovers.
Inhibitions revealed.
Jackpot. Jokers wild. Seven come 11. Bet. Push. Stay.
Knowing you are going to hurt in the morning.
Lights, loud music, “LOVE”.
Mandalay Bay, Monte Carlo, MGM, Mirage.
Never. Coming. Again. Is what we always tell yourself, yet…
Once you’re there, one night is never quite long enough.
Poolside cocktails in the hot summer sun.
Quick escape, dangerously only an hour away.
Risk. Roll of the dice. Reward.
Smoke-filled rooms full of sparkle, shimmer and shine.
Time stands still and taunts you to stay up later.
Under dressed, over exposed and within reach.
VIP all the way.
Winner winner, chicken dinner!
X-rated, overrated, under estimated, it’s Vegas, baby!
Yearning for a shower. And a nap.
Zzzzz.

This post is for The Red Dress Club’s writing meme, Red Writing Hood. This weeks prompt is: write a short piece – fiction, non-fiction, poetry, whatevs – in which each sentence starts with the next letter of the alphabet. Starting with “A.” So, yes, your finished product will consist of 26 sentences.

post signature

Related Posts:

BlogWithIntegrity.com

What I Write About

a mother's guilt annoyances aunt leah birthdays blog books challenges conversations with Lucas DMB exercise family friends grandparents gratitude grief guest post holidays KRA Letters For You list loss love mama kat's writer's workshop memories me time milestones motherhood MSA NaBloPoMo parenthood parenting photos praise pregnancy2 question quotes SAHM school siblings simple joys TBW TDA bio travel update writing

Creative Kristi Designs