It makes me sad to admit, but I can't remember much about Kristyn as a baby. I can remember places - a very hot and very small apartment in South Ottawa). I can remember circumstances - John and I were still in school and his Mom was sick. No matter how hard I try though, I find it hard to picture myself and her alone. The same can be said for all four. I'm finding it harder and harder to remember the little things. What made me rant and rave four years ago? Where were we rushing to? What moments made my heart melt?
I often remind myself to savour these moments. Which leaves me wondering if won't I inevitably find myself, years from now, staring off in to space trying to remember the small things?
Tonight as I put Alex to bed he asked me why one of my friends sometimes calls her daughter by her full name. I told him it was because that was her name, like his is Alexander John. And he said "No, it's Alex Yander John."
He thinks that Alex is his full first name and Xander is his second name. He doesn't realize that what we call him 99% of the time is his nickname. If that doesn't wash away a shitty day, you're even more dead inside than John says I am.
There's so much I want to write down, right here and now. To tell you how adorable my children can be, despite how frustrating being their mother is some days. So here goes.
Kristyn is ten years old and she still calls nailpolish "nalishpolish", like she did when she was two.
Two weeks ago, Erin got a book on origami for her birthday. She pronounces it oramagami.
Meghan can make any situation about her. We can be praising Alex for eating his beans and Meghan will pipe in "I wiped my own ass today. And I did good! Daddy, there were zero skid marks!"
Alex is so polite. Not only do I get "Please", but I get "With a chewwy on top!"
When Kristyn concentrates on something really hard, she sticks out her tongue.
Erin sometimes speaks with a little British accent. She doesn't realize she's doing it, but everyone notices it. It's usually when she asks a question. She can say "Mommy did you want a piece of pie?" and it sounds like she's asking me over for tea and crumpets. (My apologize for the sweeping British stereotype, but I'm proving a point!).
Meghan is not yet 6, but she taught herself how to read. She reads me stories at night. Long ones. I did the same thing. While Kristyn and Erin are both excellent readers, I can tell that Meghan has the same love for it that I do.
Alex will pee anywhere. Today he peed in the parking lot at the store. I was looking around for a bathroom or you know, a private spot when he just whipped it out and peed on my tire. I know we have to stop that, but it's hilarious that my kid feels so free, isn't it?
I wish that every moment as their mother could mean witnessing those adorable things, but I know that's not reality. Sometimes, I want to throttle them, wondering where they came from and what I did while I was pregnant. Some days drag on and the countdown to bedtime is agony. What I can say is that each day features at least a few of those little moments. I hope that in a few years, I'm remembering those things and not the fact that I've been known to hide in the bathroom to get some peace.
