She always shows up

I've spent a good part of today thinking about how I should honor my mom for Mother's Day. I mean, I already mailed her a card (which will, of course, arrive late) and wished her a HMD over the phone. But that doesn't seem like enough.

She's not a mom that flowery superlatives fit. What she is, really, is a mom who shows up. 

Birthday parties. First Communions. Of course she shows up at the big things. But she also shows up to help hang wallpaper, to watch ordinary soccer games, to keep an eye on grandkids when their parents need a break. 

She shows up by texting pictures of the Coke Rewards codes from her afternoon Diet Coke. And by firing up the sewing machine to hem a pair of too-long pants that traveled from Indiana. 

She shows up when she answers the phone at 10:30pm and I'm on the other end asking "Do you think I could give Charlie more ibuprofen?" 

She shows up when she remembers you asked for prayer for a friend, prays, and then calls back to see how the friend is doing.

She shows up even though her 5 kids tease her about bladder control, laughing to the point of passing out, and her Christmas shopping trip fanny pack. 

She shows up when she sits up late at night leafing through the newspaper, eating cereal, and just visiting with an adult child in town for a short while.

Showing up is not just punching the motherhood clock. It's delivering a message to her children and grandchildren that says "you're important and you're loved." 

Thanks, Mom, for showing up. I hope you know that when you need me, I'll show up, too.

What I want for Mother's Day

Today my husband posted this query on Facebook:

I feel really bad that he thinks his ideas never go over well. I always feel loved and appreciated on Mother's Day. I always look forward to opening the card marked "To My Wyfe," which is signed "Love Your Huzzzzzband" and includes a York Peppermint Patty. The cards from the kids, which Mike generally picks out, are spot on. 

I don't want Mike to stress out over Mother's Day -- maybe because I don't want to be required to stress out over Father's Day. So, honey, here are some things to keep in mind when you are trying to decide how to acknowledge Mother's Day.

1. Sleep is good. Very good. Sleeping in and taking a nap later if I want to are always appreciated.
2. Not cooking is good. This is a win-win situation. I don't have to cook and you and the kids don't have to eat what I've thrown together.
3. We have more time than money. Spending money kind of stresses me out. Ok, it stresses me out a lot. But we do have time. I would thoroughly enjoy some kind of family activity, even if it's watching Annie's play or going to Charlie's soccer game or working in the yard or going for a walk. 
4. I don't need more stuff. Well, I need shoes, but you're not allowed to buy those for me unless I'm with you. So please don't feel the need to buy something that requires wrapping.
5. I will admit to being a control freak sometimes and I'm working on that. But one thing that I would love to control on Mother's Day is the television. No ugly animation. No ESPN unless it's something I want to watch. I'm envisioning Food Network and chick flicks. 
6. Donuts. From Long's. 
7. Cleanliness is next to Godliness. Pick a room, any room, and have the kids pick it up. (Sorry kids!)
8. A foot massage. You can tell Robbie to do it. 

I was hoping to make this a 10-item list, but I've got 8. Maybe some other folks can suggest #9 & #10. Or, as the television show said, 8 is enough.

This Mommy's favorite game - #LTYM 2013

As promised in yesterday's post, here is the text of the essay I read at Listen to Your Mother Indianapolis earlier this month:

Photo by Mike Washington Photography

This Mommy’s Favorite Game
I’m not sure what happens at your house, but in our house, we spend a lot of time playing games. They mostly fall into two categories -- those that involve suicidal birds or digital versions of famous sports stars (I’m talking video games, people) and those that require hours of practice, driving to fields and gyms all over creation and result in foul-smelling laundry.

A typical weekend for our family looks like this:  basketball, soccer, play practice -- drama is a game all unto itself -- on Saturday, followed by more drama and soccer on Sunday. I’m sure you’re familiar with that.

But games are not just for kids. I have a favorite game that I like to play, too. It's called "Mommy's Legs Are Broken and She Can't Get Off the Couch."

My favorite game has just two basic rules:

1. It can only be played when there is nowhere anyone has to be, because Mommy's legs are pretty much required for driving to soccer practice. Which means getting to play this game is a darn near-miracle.

2. It can only be played when Daddy is not home. Otherwise Daddy will try to play too and, well, that just ruins everything.

Other than that, “Mommy’s Legs Are Broken” has no rules. There are no uniforms to be washed, although jammies are recommended.  No equipment necessary, but I will say that having the phone, iPad and TV remote within reach makes it  more enjoyable.

The game generally starts when one or more children ask for something that he or she is perfectly capable of getting for themselves.

Kid: "Mommy, can you get me a glass of milk?"

Me: "Nope. Sorry."

Kid: "Why not?"

Me: "Because Mommy's legs are broken and she can't get off the couch."

Kid: "Arrgghh! Not again! I hate this game."

Which is how you know this is a real game, because there are members of the "opposing" team saying not so nice things to your team.

From there, the game is totally up to the Mommy.

"Can you please bring me a Diet Coke?" -- Pleases and thank yous and other common courtesies are still expected. Mommy's legs may be broken, but her sense of social etiquette is not.

"Can you pick up all the shoes and take them to the right rooms upstairs?"

Generally, this game is a good way to get things accomplished, like having the family room picked up, without Mommy having to be the one to do all the work.

Warning: once the children get the hang of the game, they will try to play too. This is NEVER allowed. Kids’ legs are never broken. Only Mommy's.

The game can end in a variety of ways:

1.   Mommy's had enough rest that she feels ready to take on the family again. Please note: this has never, in the history of “Mommy’s legs are broken,” ever happened.

2.   The doorbell rings and a stranger is at the door. At this point,  Mommy must get off the couch because children are not allowed to open the door for strangers. (You can keep the game going by telling all the kids to be quiet and act like no one is home, hoping the stranger leaves soon.)

3.   A fight breaks out among the children resulting in blood or bones sticking out. Any other level of fighting can be dealt with from the couch, generally by leveling threats such as “no video games for a week” or “I will make tuna noodle casserole for dinner if you don’t knock it off.”

4.   The house catches fire and Mommy must evacuate.

There you have it. The basics of my favorite game, "Mommy's Legs Are Broken and She Can't Get Off the Couch." Coming in a boxed set with bonus margarita mix to a store near you this Mother’s Day.

Tastes that take me home -- #giveaway

I grew up, mostly, in Dayton, Ohio. It's not too far from my now common-law-hometown of Indianapolis, which is nice because that means I get back there often enough to satisfy a few hometown cravings:

• Marion's Pizza -- the deluxe version with a deluxe salad on the side. The pizza crust is thin and crispy and delicious. The salad has tiny, little cubes of mozzarella and green olives, along with all the other salad usuals. It's the olives that make it fantastic!
• Super Subby's -- I order one of three things at Subby's. Turkey on wheat with provolone and light mayo. Tuna salad on wheat with lettuce and tomato. Or Subby's chili with mushrooms and provolone. I got hooked on that cup of deliciousness when I was working into the wee hours of the morning at Adventure Golf.
• UDF Cherry Cordial Ice Cream -- This is the one item for which I will break my "no buying food from a gas station" rule. It's pink heaven with chocolate pieces in a bowl.
• Esther Price Candies -- Esther Price was my first taste of GOOD chocolate. It will always hold a special place in my heart. 

The only problem is that in order to enjoy these treats, I have to actually go to Dayton to get them.

Fortunately, there is one more hometown food that I like and can get anytime I want to. That would be Mikesell's potato chips and pretzels. I get those right in my own grocery store. My favorites are the Groovy Chips and the Baked Pretzel Rods. So when the PR peo -- WAIT! This just in! You can buy Mikesell's and Esther Price Chocolate Covered Potato Chips! Do I hear Mother's Day calling?!...but I digress...

 
As I was saying, when the PR people for Mikesell's contacted me to ask if I would like to receive some samples of Mikesell's newest snacks, it didn't take me long to say "sign me up!"

What I received was a box containing samples of three products:

• Kettle-cooked Sour Cream & Onion chips -- Quite tasty. I'm not usually a fan of the onion part of sour cream and onion chip, but the flavor of these was mild enough to be enjoyable. The chip itself was thick and nicely fried.
  
• Kettle-cooked Bold Jamaican Jerk chips -- Mike tried these and liked them (I was too chicken.) He said they were "Hot. Unexpectedly hot, but the burn died down quickly.
  
• Cinnamon Toast Puffcorn -- These were not our favorite. The cinnamon came through nicely, but we weren't fans of the texture. However, if you like the Taco Bell cinnamon crisps, these would be a good snack for you.   

And now here's the part you've been waiting for...you can win a three-month supply* of Mikesell's snacks -- the three I listed above and other Mikesell's snacks. 


* Please note: I'm not sure if these Mikesell's people have ever met a teenage boy. So let the caveat emptor say that one person's three-month supply may only last a week in someone else's house. 

To enter to win the free prize pack of snack sensations, leave a comment on this blog post (which means if you are reading this on Facebook, you need to click through and leave your comment on the actual post) answering the question below:

What kind of chip person are you? Regular? Baked? Kettle-cooked? Flavored? If you're more of a pretzel person, you can let me know that too.  

Also, if you are reading this on Facebook, check out the Mikesell's Facebook page too.  

I will draw a winner using Random.org on Saturday, May 4 at 9pm EDT. The winner will be announced here and on the 4th Frog Facebook page. The hungry winner will have 48 hours to respond or another winner will be chosen.
 
Giveaway open to U.S. residents ages 18 and up only. 

(Please excuse the wonky formatting on this post. I've been messing with the code to fix it and I'm just calling it "good enough.")

What is your mom's superpower?

Mothers are a pretty special breed of people. In fact, you might say mothers are superheroes, though we don't have the fancy costumes go with the persona. (Which is fine with me because I think Wonder Woman probably fights wonder wedgies fairly often.)

It's not the general awesomeness of each day -- dishes, laundry, cooking, driving -- that earn moms our superhero status. It's our superpowers that really make us remarkable. Some of us have x-ray vision. Some have super hearing. Some moms can uncannily read minds.

This is my mom, Julie. She's got two superpowers.

The first is the ability to fix almost anything with a rubber band and a paper clip. Honestly. Give the woman something broken, a rubber band and a paper clip and 9 times out of 10, it will be fixed before you can call a repair guy. Seriously -- dishwasher, DVD player, big toe. When something in my house is broken, the kids will say "May Grandma can fix it."

My mom's second superpower is really just for show and came in much handier when I was a kid wanting to impress friends. But what good is a superpower if you can't show it off once in a while anyway. No, she doesn't tie a cherry stem with her tongue. She doesn't walk on hot coals barefoot, though she did used to hold her baby bottle with her feet (so I'm told).

The very cool, just for show superpower my mom has is that she can make a free throw while holding a bag of groceries in one arm. How cool is that?! I bet your mom would be jealous.

Speaking of your mom, what is her superpower?

My Mother's Day gift to my family

I used to think Mother's Day was all about me. And, well, it is. But if it weren't for my kids, it wouldn't be my day to celebrate. And if it weren't for Mike and his part in getting those 3 kids into the world, Mother's Day would be just another day to me.

So this year, I'm going to give something to my family for Mother's Day. My time and attention. I was inspired -- and convicted -- by this: "How to Miss a Childhood." That means once I hit "publish" on this post, I'm going blog/Facebook/Twitter free for the next couple of days. Who knows? Maybe it will feel like a gift to myself.

(Don't worry kids, I'll still let you clean out my car and bake me brownies and let me sleep in on Sunday.)

In search of Mother's Day dinner

For the past several years, I've had a rule about Mother's Day. I don't travel. I love my mom and my mother-in-law, but I've chosen to celebrate Mother's Day by spending it with my own husband and children, enjoying each other's company.

This year, however, I suspended that rule because we wanted to go for what is likely a last visit with Mike's mom. (I know, I've said that before. Apparently this end-of-life stuff is not an exact science. I was glad to have another chance to let her know how much I love her.) Because, as a family, we are a force to be reckoned with and because Mike's dad is pretty worn out by Mike's mom's condition, we decided to just make a it a day trip. Down and back all in one day -- a total of about 7 hours of driving. (Have I ever mentioned my kids are not great travelers?)

The trip down went pretty quickly, probably because I slept through most of it. The trip back, however, went about as fast as the schoolyard bully walks to the principal's office. We decided to break it up a little bit by stopping for Mother's Day dinner on the way home. I had a hard time deciding where I wanted to go. Thanks to the Urbanspoon app on my iPhone, I settled on Gray Brothers Cafeteria. (It's Mother's Day; don't judge.)

As we were approaching the exit on the highway, I was already contemplating meatloaf, green beans, rolls and some yummy institutional chocolate pudding. (Again, don't judge.) But when we pulled off the highway and made the necessary right turn, we were faced with a "Road Closed" sign. Having no idea what alternate route would get us to Gray's, I decided I would just choose another restaurant.

After we'd been back on the highway for about five or six miles, I decided Maxine's Chicken and Waffles would be a fun place for Mother's Day dinner. It sounds 100 kinds of wrong, I know, but trust me, this place is all right. I'd first eaten there earlier in the week and was anxious to try the sweet potato waffle on this trip. So we followed the highway into downtown Indianapolis, navigated the one way streets and pulled up to Maxine's at about 6:19pm. Only to find out they closed at 6:00pm.

Ugh! This was just about the time I decided to get a little pouty.

How about Scotty's? Mike suggested.
No.
Bazbeaux Pizza?
We had pizza for lunch.
Santorini's?
Wrong direction and too pricey.

I was rocking the prima donna thing, but it was Mother's Day and I'd been in the car for over 4 hours (on the return trip) and I was hungry. As we drive all over kingdom come, I finally agreed to Binkley's Kitchen. I haven't eaten there in a long time and after being twice foiled in my attempts to eat decadently, a salad was beginning to sound good.

So we arrived at Binkley's, piled out of the car and didn't even make it through the door when the people who'd gone in ahead of us came right back out, saying the wait was at least an hour.

Seriously? For the love of Pete, it's Mother's Day and I'm a mother. A very hungry mother at that. Why can't all those other people just get out of my way and let me eat in peace (or at least not in a moving vehicle)?

Wanting something inexpensive and fast, I directed Mike to head to Five Guys. I've never known those French fries to do me wrong. Of course, he had to take the scenic route there, just in case we'd happen upon another restaurant that sounded good.

If you've never been to Five Guys, let me tell you a.) it's GOOD, b.) it's not necessarily good for you, c.) the menu is pretty limited. But I was determined to make it not a total nutritional fiasco. I ordered one order of fries (ok, it was size large) for the whole family to share. Then instead of choosing the hamburger or hot dog, I went for the veggie and cheese sandwich. My choices of veggies, grilled, and served on a bun with one slice of cheese. I figured I needed the protein, right?

It turns out Five Guys was pretty darn busy for Mother's Day, too. So after about a 15 minute wait, our food came. I couldn't wait to bite into my grilled veggie sandwich, proud of myself for making a reasonably healthy selection at a place known all over for it's greasy food fare.

My grilled onions, grilled mushrooms, grilled green peppers, grilled tomatoes and cheese sandwich, turned out to be raw onions (blech!), mildly warm mushrooms, crisp green peppers and regular old tomatoes with wilted cheese. Still somewhat of a nutritional victory, I ate it anyway because it was almost 8pm and I was too darn hungry and tired to make a fuss.

And so that's how my search for Mother's Day dinner came to a close. But honestly, the day itself -- for all the driving and frustration and imperfections that came with it -- was a great one. I got to take a nap (in the car); I spent the day with people I love; and I climbed into bed when we got home, free from bath and bedtime duty.

In the end, I have just one thing to say about Mother's Day: Next year, reservations.

Classic tale for Mother's Day

One of the great things about being a Mom is all the funny experiences that weave their way into oft-told tales for years to come. We were with friends tonight and one of them reminded me of this story. She said she's been waiting for it to appear on my blog -- so Lori, Happy Mother's Day.


Basking in the glow of motherhood
Charlie was probably about 2 months old. Annie was about 2-1/2. We were in the kids' bathroom, where I was giving Charlie a bath. I had the baby bath tub set inside the big bathtub and was leaning over the edge of the tub, cooing at Charlie while running the soapy washcloth over his baby rolls. (He actually had rolls back then.)

Annie stood behind me and started brushing my hair. Now at this time in her life, Annie HATED having her hair brushed. It was a real ordeal. So when she started brushing mine, I took the opportunity to tell her how nice it felt. How it was such a treat to have my hair brushed.

As all this was going on, I took in the scene. Here I was lovingly tending to my newborn while engaging my 2-year-old in a teachable moment and I felt like a great mom. Truthfully, I was basking in the glow of motherhood.

This went on for a few minutes. Charlie was content and Annie kept brushing. I turned slightly to grab the hooded towel (oh, I miss those things!) for Charlie when, for the first time, I got a look at Annie.

SHE WAS BRUSHING MY HAIR WITH THE TOILET BOWL BRUSH!

"No! Yucky! Yuck! Yuck!" I screamed, scooping Charlie up as fast as I could.

Annie, sensing trouble, took off running down the hall waving the toilet bowl brush high overhead.

I ran after her, wet, slippery Charlie tucked under my arm. The basking was definitely over.

Looking back, I should have known the idyllic moments in the bathroom that I felt so glowing about were too good to be true. Because, really, my experience of motherhood has mostly been about running, hollering and having a good story to tell at the end.

Motherhood is not for the egotistical

There are plenty of things that can be said about motherhood -- how it's like putting your heart in another body and watching it walk around, how it's a privilege and a blessing to be a mother. But what I want to talk about is how motherhood is not for those who require lots of emotional stroking.

Nothing takes me down a notch or two quicker than a small child who says "Mommy, do you have a baby in you belly?," when in fact there is no baby in my belly. (A large child who says that is subject to a swift kick.)

Or the kid who comes home from a sleepover raving that so-and-so's Mom is the most awesome because she a.) let them stay up all night, b.) made homemade donuts and fresh-squeezed orange juice, and c.) puts on makeup just for doing the dishes. (For the record, I totally would not be friends with so-and-so's Mom.)

No, to be a mother requires a tough outer shell. One that deflects statements like "You're wearing that to the school program?!" quicker than a Redwings goalie deflects a flying puck.

To be a mom means to have a big heart and a little ego, to practice what you preach when you say "Sticks and stones..."

Having said all that and despite popular belief, mothers are not superheros. (Though I do have at least one superhuman skill.) And sometimes a chink in my teflon armor lets a zinger through that stings a little (or a lot).

Like a few weeks ago when Annie came home from a school retreat, all excited to share the details of her day. She said one of the activities was to talk about someone who has inspired her. I could feel myself getting all warm and glowy inside, waiting to hear exactly what I had done to inspire her and grateful that she was willing to share that revelation with me, when she said, "I said that Dad has inspired me because he's had issues to work through and he has kept working on them and persevered."

I was stunned. And hurt. And quite frankly, a little angry. But I didn't tell her that. I nodded and said, "That's great. You should be sure to tell Daddy that."

But, as a good friend pointed out, it's to my credit that she is able to recognize qualities like perseverance as inspirational. And I feel pretty good about that.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom and all mothers out there. I got a diamond bracelet that I absolutely adore! Click thru to the 4th Frog Facebook page to see a picture of it.

Friday Fragments: Ultimate procrastination

Oh, I have about a kajillion things to do today, but I'd much rather play in Mrs. 4444's Friday Fragment sandbox!

Mother's Day is Sunday. I got an e-mail from Laser Flash suggesting that Dad and the kids take Mom to their loud, frantic, sweaty place for laser tag and pizza to celebrate the occasion. Thanks, I'll pass.

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Did you get your "free bagel and shmear" coupon from the Einstein Bagel Facebook page? I bribed the kids this morning that if they got up and got ready quickly, we could stop at Einstein before school. I gave each kid their own coupon and I bought the drinks. The guy at the counter didn't seem to happy about it. But happy, schmappy. I might have to go back for lunch soon to try out the new turkey-bacon-avocado bagel thin sandwich. It looks really yummy!

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

When I'm finished with Friday Frags, I want to go dig my garden. I have 3 tomato plants, 4 cilantro plants, 2 basil plants, 4 pepper plants and 2 strawberry plants to go in. I hope to get it all done this weekend.

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

I cannot wait for school to be over. Charlie's teacher just assigned ANOTHER science project. We just finished a big, took-3-days-to-do-the-experiment-and-another-day-to-do-the-write-up science project. That one was on the effect of heat and cold on popcorn kernels. For this one, he's doing what kind of ice cream melts the fastest (premium, light, frozen yogurt, etc.). I figure eating the ice cream will be consolation for having to do a big project in the final weeks of school.

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

The Go Red/Better U challenge officially wrapped up last night with a thank you party. It was so great to get to say thanks to all those people who helped us along the way.

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

I saw a church sign -- you know those message board ones -- last week that has stuck in my head. It said "The safest place to be is within the will of God." I liked it so much that I wrote it out and stuck it on my computer monitor at work.

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

Well, I think I'm all fragged out. Have a terrific weekend and enjoy Mother's Day, whether you're on the giving or receiving end.

Hallmark doesn't write 'em this good

Just so you know that I'm not as shallow as I sounded when I complained about the Jillian Michaels Wii game, I thought I'd share with you something each of my children said to me on the occasion of Mother's Day:

Last night at church, Fr. Scott offered a blessing for all mothers in the congregation, saying something about how mothers needed our love and support.

"Mom," Annie leaned over and whispered, "I support you."

Then this morning, while I was still in bed, Robbie crawled up and asked if he could cuddle up with me. "Sure," I said.

"When you are warm, I love you," he said. Melt me...

Finally, each of the kids made me a card. Charlie's said "Mom, you are the best. I wish I could have married you."

Those three things...that's all I needed for Mother's Day.

To the moms who make me a better mom

Happy Mother's Day to:

My mom, Julie: Who demonstrates commitment and perseverance and the importance of serving others

My mother-in-law, Karen: Who has taught me the value of laughter and who gave me the phrase "Please, boys, please..." which I use often

My grandma, Janet: Who continues to show me that you don't have to be the center of attention to make a difference

My NaNa: Who I miss dearly

Buck: Who has taught me that a mother's work (and love) is never done, even if I do live until I'm 90

Shelley, Angie & Erin: Who are beautifully raising the best nieces and nephews an aunt can ask for

Denise: Who has shown me that being the "mean" mom is often being the good mom

Beth: Who reminds me that standing up for our kids and sometimes questioning authority is part of the job

Lisa: Who is as much a spiritual model to me as she is to her own children

Birdie: Who is a huge reason why I am here today, still mothering

Lynn, Sharon, Momza, Shannon and all the other moms of the blogosphere: Who help me realize that even when we feel alone in our efforts, we mothers are part of a sisterhood where our experiences are often universal and where we are supported and held accountable for this most important job of ours

And lastly, to Mary, Mother of God: To whom I turn for divine intercession and whose example of holy motherhood is inspiring.

It's the thought that counts.

My husband is a terrible secret-keeper. One of the worst. Now, this year he didn't tell me what he was getting me for Mother's Day. Just as bad, he told the kids.

"It's something for the Wii," Charlie hinted a few days ago. And since I'm unaware of any Scrabble game for the Wii, I guessed to myself that it was something Biggest Loser-related.

My suspicions were confirmed when there were about 15 minutes of panic yesterday in which Mike and the kids seemed to have misplaced the gift. It wasn't real hard to figure out what they were talking about with Mike hollering "Where is the Jillian game?!"

Now, I KNOW that it's the thought that counts. And I KNOW that Mike saw this game and thought "Biggest Loser! She loves the Biggest Loser!" And that is truly sweet.

But, let's all put our chubby-plus thinking caps on. What might this gift say to someone who needs to lose 70 pounds?

"Hey, honey, you're fat so I bought you this," comes to mind.

In Mike's defense, he wanted to have my car detailed as a Mother's Day gift, but I declined because it was too much money. Using my own logic, the gift of a car detail might have said "Gee, your car is a pig sty," which is true (or was until I made the kids clean it out yesterday). But I can view my car being called a pig sty far more objectively than I can my body being called fat.

To be sure, he never said "You're fat," that's all my own inner translation of the message. I know that in Mike's mind, this gift said "I want you to be healthy and around for a long time."

And truthfully, it IS the thought that counts. Which is exactly what I will be telling myself as I exchange the Jillian Michael's game for a new outfit.

Not sure what to get Mom for Mother's Day?

How about a new kitchen?

Check it out here: HH Gregg-It's All About Mom

But hurry...deadline is TODAY!

12 and 6 years ago...

Twelve and six years ago, a mother brought forth on this continent two new children, conceived in passion, and dedicated to the proposition that they should spend their time on making sure that all gifts, chores and affections shown to them be created equal.

Today is Annie's 12th and Robbie's 6th birthday. They were born six years and 39 minutes apart -- she at 9:12pm and he at 9:51pm. We didn't plan it to happen that way, but it did. Bear with me, I've got two birth stories to share, so this is a bit long.

Welcome Annie
With Annie, I went into the hospital at 7am to be induced. Only 3 days past my due date, I wanted to wait a bit, but my doctor was going out of town and I didn't want to deliver without her. So we made a party out of the occasion. My parents and Mike's came to wait out the labor with us. Both of my sisters and my oldest brother stopped by too. We took bets on the time the baby would be born, the gender, the weight.

My nurse's name was Rowena. I remember that because she came in and said "Hi-ah! I'm Rowena and you're my very first patient. I just finished nursin' school!" Not exactly what you want to hear when you're having your very first baby.

The day went on. I chatted with my a good friend from high school who was in a hospital in Ohio being induced with her first baby, too. I sent Mike and his parents to go get some lunch. The pitocin was making the contractions a bit uncomfortable, so I got an epidural.

I sent Mike and his parents to go get some dinner. Still no baby. The doctor came in and mentioned a c-section. I panicked a bit because I hadn't read that chapter of What to Expect When You're Expecting. Mike unpacked it from my bag, I read it quickly and waited for the re-dose of the epidural, which went the wrong direction and numbed me from the chest up. Talk about scary!

Soon enough -- with the right parts numbed -- we headed to the OR to have our baby. I got to watch the operation in a mirror placed next to my head. When the doctor pulled her out, Mike said "It's a girl!" and I don't remember much else -- except that she was 10 lbs. 4oz.

On the way to recovery, someone put her in my arms and I remember thinking, "This is the dumbest place for a new baby!" I was so loopy on pain meds by then. Mike asked what I wanted to name her -- Anna or Elizabeth. I picked Anna and the rest is history.

Hey there, Robbie!
Robbie's birth was a little different. Again I was overdue, but my plan was to have a VBAC -- it had worked beautifully with Charlie. We woke up on Annie's birthday, had breakfast together and let her open a gift. I told her that we'd go to her favorite Chinese place for dinner that night and sent her off to school with her birthday treats in hand.

Two hours later, I was talking to a friend on the phone, stood up from the couch and realized that my water had broken. I wasn't really in a hurry -- we were going for the same "new age" doula-assisted birth and I didn't want to get to the hospital until I was dilated 5cm. Don't ask me how I was gonna know when that was.

But there was meconium in the fluid and the doctor said to head on in. I called my friend Clara, asked her to meet Annie after school, take her to Chinese and wait for Mike's parents. I called the school to ask them to tell Annie and then called Mike who was just dropping Charlie off at preschool. Finally, I called the doula -- who said she wasn't sure she could make it because she thought she had strep.

A few hours later, we were at the hospital and dang if I wasn't in some serious pain! The doctor came in to say she was leaving for vacation (what is it with docs and February vacations?) and was handing me over to another doctor. The doula called to say that she really wasn't coming because yes, she did have strep and her toddler was projectile vomiting, but she was looking for a replacement to send.

Mike was great, trying to help me and get me to hang on until the replacement doula could arrive. But at some point, I just hollered "Forget the doula and get me an epidural!" (Only I didn't say f..."orget," but this is a family-friendly blog.)

About 8 hours later, with a monitor on the baby's head and Friends on the TV, I realized that the drumbeats of the baby's heart were getting faster and faster. Up over 200 beats/minute. Not long after, we were on our way to the OR again. No mirror this time, despite my request. But Mike got to call "It's a boy!" and away Robbie was whisked to the NICU to be treated for some distress and to have his blood sugar monitored because of my gestational diabetes.

At some point I learned he weighed 9 lbs., 1 oz. and we named him. Though I don't remember when all that happened. He looked so much like Annie -- round faced and chubby. So we named him Robert. If he had looked like Charlie -- long, lean and like a little old man, he would have been named William.

Annie later said that when her teacher told her that Mommy was having the baby on her birthday, she cried "tears in happiness" and that her new brother was "as cute as a plumberry."

A lot of people ask if they mind sharing a birthday. And they don't. The only one who used to mind is Charlie -- because the cake and the presents aren't for him. But Mike's parents always celebrate his "unbirthday" and give him a gift too. Plus, he thinks it's cool that he doesn't have to share his day.

Some people ask what's so special in early May that we ended up with two kids born on the same day. Well, duh! Mother's Day!