It Wasn’t Me

Ben, your last day of the Time for Tots program (preschool) was last Thursday. And your teachers told me how much they will miss your sweet smile and funny personality. They also had one last story to share. A worker had come into your classroom to fix something while you were all playing. One of his tools made a noise that sounded, well, like a toot. In the quiet that followed, you looked up with a big smile and announced “IT WASN’T ME!”

That’s my boy.

I miss you Jack. I love you.


Not the best days for us. April aways brings pain.

I miss you Jack. I love you.

You Are My Sunshine

Every time I get Kate and Charlie ready to head off into a peaceful sleep, I hold them close and sing “You Are My Sunshine.” It’s become our bedtime and naptime ritual and when they start to hear me sing, I can almost see them relax as if they get the message… the time has come to close their eyes and drift into slumberland.

I have come to realize that this song is not just their cue to go to sleep, it has also become a prayer of sorts for me. When I sing “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” I am repeatedly offering up a plea to whoever will listen and grant it. I’ve already had my sunshine taken away. Please don’t ever let it happen again. Praying, begging, pleading, whatever it is, I just hope someone is listening.

Today Kate and Charlie are as old as Jack ever was. Yet again, children of mine have outlived their older sibling. I still don’t know how that’s possible. It still crushes the breath out of my chest. We have gotten through it, but we will never get over it.

And so I beseechingly send it up again… please don’t take my sunshine away.

I miss you Jack. I love you.


It’s 8:30 am and all of my children are still sound asleep. To be fair, Kate woke up at 6:15, but has been sleeping again since 7:15. I can’t remember the last time all four were asleep and I was awake, enjoying a cup of coffee (that’s a new development!) and watching the Today Show as the snow gently falls outside. 

Quiet moments like this are rare these days. I guess that’s what happens when you have four kids. Two who happen to need you – A LOT. These quiet moments may be fleeting, but I’ll take them. It is a little recharge for my batteries, which seem to be running on low these days.

But just as the quiet moments are fleeting, so too will be the craziness of four young children. The babies are already so different from their newborn selves. And that happened in just six months. I look at Sam and see how quickly he has gone from needy infant to independent seven-year-old. And I am noticing Ben’s chubby features starting to begin that toddler-to-little kid thin out. 

And so I’ll sit here with my coffee, enjoying the stillness of the morning. And I will smile when I hear that first little voice that beckons me to help them begin their day.

HA! And there it is… Ben is calling. Happy Monday to all.

I miss you Jack. I love you.

Sorta Back

Holy moly it’s been a long time since I posted. Post-mini van but pre-twins. 

Let me tell you, carrying twins in your womb is an exhausting venture. My body hurt like the dickens and I would collapse into bed most nights by eight o’clock. Thankfully, the day I had the babies my body felt 1000% better. Unfortunately, also on that day, the nights of falling into bed at 8 and sleeping through the night became a far distant memory.

But they are here, my Kate and Charlie, and they are gorgeous and healthy and lovely and I am so glad to begin to get to know them. And I am also hoping to have a moment here and there in the year 2014 to document these little critters, as well as my big critters.

I better write it down because there’s no way in hell I am going to remember what’s happening right now. I AM BEAT. 

I miss you Jack. I love you.

Swagger Wagon

It’s official… I am now a mini-van mom. Rolling in my Sienna. You know you’re jealous.

Don’t throw no shade as I cruise by in my hotel on wheels. Sippy cup? Got a place for that. Godlfish crackers. Yeah, got a spot for those too. Hell, I could even change Ben in the backseat while the car is on cruise control. It’s got that much swagger.

Having twins changes everything…

I miss you Jack. I love you.

Benny Boop

Ben got a pair of rain boots from his Peterson cousins, aunt and uncle for Christmas. And I don’t think he’s taken them off since. He puts them on first thing in the morning, over his jammies. He wears them sans clothes (a very good look). He tells everyone about his “boops.” I love it. When I think back to him at one-year-old I will remember Ben and his monkey boops.

And I will also remember how he liked to hide toys in his boots, and mine too. I just emptied out five cars from my rain boots. And once, on the way to pick up Sam, he was in the backseat repeating over and over “boop-boop-boop.” We got to our destination and I realized his boots were on, but not comfortably, because there was a matchbox car in one.

You make us laugh, Benny Boop.

I miss you Jack. I love you.


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