Life Lessons.

It’s no secret that my three year old often times acts as though she is in her teenage years. Tonight, she asked if she could sleep in my bed since big Daddy is out of town. In the back of my head, I heard a voice say- no, she may wet the bed and you have yet to buy a waterproof mattress cover in case she has an accident.
Me- “okay baby”.

I read her a couple books, brush her teeth, say our prayers and kiss her goodnight. It is around 7 pm. I head into the living room for a full 3 hours of television. Tevo is one of the best inventions of the current century. I am able to record all of my favorite shows, and then catch up on them when its convenient for me- not necessarily at 9 pm on Monday nights. I digress. So after Desperate Housewives, I do my nightly double-check on the girls. I go back into their rooms, make sure they are still breathing, kiss them- and make sure Britton still has on her diaper. Britton is fully potty trained during the day, but night time- not so much. Sometimes she will tip toe to her bathroom, take off her diaper, do her business then put her PJ bottoms back on. Only to pee in her bed a few hours later.

So I walk into our bedroom, look at my sweet girl, yes- she is still breathing, kiss her, and then that’s when I felt it. Warm, wet pee all over my 600 thread count, clean white sheets. I am sure you know what follows, Britton back to her bed (with a second diaper attached), sheets stripped, double rinse setting, scrub the mattress, blow it dry, remake my bed for the second time in two days, etc etc.

Sometime around 10:50- towards the end of ‘Brothers and Sisters’ Kenley wakes up from what must have been a nightmare. Get her settled, and I hear whimpering coming out of Britton’s room. She is upset that she is now back to her room.

Geez, here it comes.
Britton: “mommy, can I feep wid you? I get scared in my woom“.
Me: “What scares you in your room Britton
Britton: (pauses, looks around her bedroom)Noffing. I just like to feep wid you in your woom“.
Me: heart tug moment of weakness. “ok

As she lays back down to bed for a second time tonight, she seems so sweet and alert. I often refer to the middle of the nights as her Awakenging moments (there was a movie about really old people who come alert at night- maybe it was Cocoon). Trying to get to the heart of things, I attempt to read what goes on inside her little mind. At any rate, our conversation went something along these lines.

Britton- (laying in bed on her back, both arms tucked behind her head looking at the ceiling, eye open.)
Me- Britton, what are you thinking about?
Britton – “Nuffin
Me- “Please tell me”
Britton- “I wuf thinking about lipthick

Me good opportunity to sneak in some real converstaion and get to hearty issues> “why are you sometimes call me a nasty mommy?”
Britton- “You not a nafty mommy”
Me- “It makes mommy sad when you tell me to go away and call me a mean mommy”
Britton- (gets choked up, rubs the tears that almost immediately fall down her chubby cheeks) “Mommy, I won’t use that word anymore”
We hug, get under our blanket, and she lays her little arm across my neck.

I don’t care how much a queen size mattress costs. I would gladly buy a new one to have that moment back.

It was such a bitter sweet moment. Britton sad because she realized that her actions impact me. Of course I don’t want her upset, and I tell her that there is nothing she can say to me that will make me love her any less. I think it was just realizing that Britton just learned an important life lesson. One that she really got. Words can hurt people.

I learned one too tonight, laying on the freshly scrubbed, dry matress. Some moments really are priceless.

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The magic ball

Every day Britton seems to amaze me with her use of words, phrases and sentences. Mary, our nanny, comes on Wednesdays. Traditionally, Wednesday’s are “my day” often spent taking Big Daddy’s shirts to the cleaners, buying groceries for meals, going to the bank of Mary’s money, and the list goes on. Today, on my way to get Britton from school I decided that I wanted some one on one time with her. Often times, our time together, is spend reprimanding and constantly trying to instill right from wrong in her little belief system. So we headed into town to meet Big Daddy for lunch.

After nibbling on chicken tenders and french fries- the pressure of eating fruits and veggies every day- we headed across the street to Kevin’s Sporting Goods. Big Daddy promised me nice sunglasses ever since my eye doctor told me that my eyes were turning yellow due to sun damage. On our way out, Britton got a bouncy ball from the candy machine.

I do have a point to this play by play. While we are looking at sunglasses, Britton loses her ball. Kevin, the owner of Kevins, walks over and asks Britton why is she sad. She tells him that she lost her ball, that it is a magic ball.

Her asks her what it looks like.
Britton: “It is white wid blue, and it bounces vearee high”. Meanwhile, she continues to crawl around the store looking under every nook and cranny for her .25 cent ball. The precision with which she described her ball, amazed me.

Luckily, a nice man that was also shopping for Maui Jims asked Britton about her ball and said he would be right back,. He walked out to his truck, found a small bouncy ball that his son had left in the car, and gave it to Britton and said, “here is your magic ball. It changed colors- now that is magic!”. She was so happy to have her little blue-and-white-bouncy-magic-ball.

6 year anniversary

Today marks our 6 year wedding anniversary. Most days I don’t feel old enough to have been married for six years. On other days, I think 72 months seems like nothing. As I laid in bed this morning, yes – with Big Daddy and no Britton- I did the math. At our 50th wedding anniversary, I will be 74 years old! Big Daddy will be 76!

I wonder if I look much older than I did on our wedding day?
My body may look the somewhat the same on the outside, but up close you can see the beginnings of crows feet, much stronger contact lenses, and a tummy that isn’t quite as hard as it had been, feet that require more maintenance to keep them soft, hands that can be mistaken for my moms (no offense mom), sunspots from years at the tanning bed, dark dark circles under the eye concealer, stretch marks in places I try to hide. However those are all just outward appearances. Looking at the inside, at the heart, I would see how much richer and I 6 years later. I never knew my life could be so full.

Bad Dreams

As I’ve mentioned before, Britton often climbs into our bed in the middle of the night. She claims to have “bad dreams”. We wake up to brown curly hair sprawled across the pillowcase, and Puddles her poodle cuddled beside me.

Lately, each morning, I have started to ask her about these “bad dreams”. This morning, over snuggles and kisses, she told me that she had a bad dream about a good princess. So I asked her if that meant she had a good dream? She looked at my with those long eyelashes, thought about it for a second, and said, “Yes, it was a good dweam“.

When asked about her other bad dreams, those are often about the following: giant finger puppets, a frog that makes loud noises and a bat that tries to eat it. Sometimes I am in the dreams, and sometimes Big Daddy is in the dreams.

Wake Up Call

I was awoken this morning by Britton, who crawls into our bed each night, kising my cheek saying “I love you all day long mommy.”

God sure is generous.

Happy Birthday Mom!