The Many Faces of Alex

Mad Face
(a.k.a. snake eyes)

Popeye Face
(a.k.a. the“John” face)

Happy Face
(a.k.a. SMILE)

Sad Face
(a.k.a. Sorry Momma)








Surprised Face
(a.k.a. Really Surprised)

Innocent Face
(a.k.a. Yea right!)

Happy Birthday Isabella Grace

Dear Isabella,

Today is your first birthday, a milestone that marks the end of infancy and the beginning of too many things to list. I am so happy to be your Momma and to be on this wonderful journey called life with you. One year ago at this very minute, I was laying on the operating table, holding Daddy's hand while Grandma sat next to me. The rest of the family was in the waiting room. We were all anxiously awaiting the arrival of our sweet precious girl. The other night I was giving you a bath and as you played with your "duck duck," I stared at your profile. It is the same little face I fell in love with all of those months ago on the ultrasound screen. And that love grew into complete adoration the second I saw your beautiful face in living color at 9:48 am, September 1, 2008. For the past 365 days, my love has grown every single day. And just when I think I could never love you anymore it grows some more. I often wonder how my heart never bursts but somehow manages to hold more love than one could ever think possible.

I marvel at you as you learn and grow everyday. You are crawling and pulling yourself up and walking with a little help. You grasp onto my hands and put one little foot in front of the other, so determined to get where you want to go. I can't believe that those little hands and feet are the same ones I kissed when you were just hours old. I know that in a short time you are going to let go of my hands and you will be off and running.

This year went by so fast. I am in shock. This is one time in my life that I feel as if words cannot do justice to what it feels like to be your Momma. The absolute joy I feel every time you smile at me and kiss me and hug me. The absolute pride I feel when say all of your new words, "hot-ball-balloon-swim-book-baba-bye pop" (your first sentence). The absolute serenity I feel as I rock you to sleep each night. I feel absolutely blessed by God to be your Momma.

If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times, there is a light within you that is so bright that everyone who crosses your path falls under your spell. And what a spell it is - you are the sweetest, happiest baby in all of the world. Everyone who meets you wants to bask in that light. There is a song that I always think of when I look at you-

In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal

Darkness turns to light and the world is at peace

This miracle God gave to me
gives me strength when I am weak

I find reason to believe

In my daughter's eyes

There is no doubt in my mind that the world is a better and brighter place because you are in it. You embody innocence and goodness, and as you continue to grow I hope that you hold onto these things and live a life full of all the wonderful things you deserve.

Happy 1st Birthday Baby Girl!

I love you with all of my heart Isabella Grace,

Momma

“A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.”
-Carl Sandburg

Isabella's 1st Birthday Party

Every article you read in parenting magazines and on the web tell you to keep your baby's first birthday party small and simple. Well, I decided not to listen to the experts and throw a bash second only to my wedding. I have been planning for months. I searched the web high and low for the perfect theme, decorations and favors. I chose the theme "1 Upon a Time" as was only fitting for my princess. I filled my house with pink and green banners, pom poms, flowers and balloons. As for the favors for the big kids and the adults, I created a candy buffet which I am sure all the parents loved (ha ha). For the babies, I had snack containers personalized since they could not partake of the plethora of candy.

And all the articles say that the party isn't for the baby but for the mom...blah. blah. They don't know my girl! She was in her element. She looked like an absolute doll in her party dress and her diamond necklace that her daddy bought for her. This picture says it all - It looks as if she is saying, "Let's party!!!!"

She loved being surrounded by all of the people who love her- there were about 80 people here. The only part of the party she didn't like was the cake. She loved the singing and with the help of Alex blew out her candle. Then she started flinging cake - she didn't like the way it tasted. She wouldn't eat any of it. So glad I took the time to make two milk-free smash cakes for her (the first being a trial run).
I know I could have thrown a small little get together to mark the completion of Isabella's first year, but that would not do. There is something larger than life about her. Something that I cannot explain. She is the epitome of joy and happiness. Her eyes and her smile light up the world. And if you know her, you know what I am talking about. It is a testament to how truly special she is that all of those people came to celebrate this milestone in her life.

And even though Isabella won't remember this party, I will, and I can't wait to tell her all about it and show her all of the pictures. I am her Momma and I know if she could have told me what she would have wanted, it would of been the exact party I planned. She is a social butterfly and was as happy as could be the whole day! I can't believe that in two days I will be writing her birthday letter. I just hope I will be able to put into words how much I love her...

PS. Note to all the moms making candy buffets - don't put Nerds out. I am going to be picking those things up off of the floor for months - they are worse than pine needles at Christmas!

What Have You Done With My Children?

Tick.Tock. 3:54 pm. Tick. Tock. 3:55pm.

I look over at my two children. Alex is having a conversation with his Spider-Man toy. Isabella is chewing on a block. Both perfectly content. Then why am I sweating as I watch the minutes tick by on my watch? Because I know that in T-minus five minutes these two sweet, cheerful children are going to morph into aliens disguised in Gymboree clothing. I know that as soon as the clock strikes the Hour of Oprah, the whining, the crying, and the screaming are going to start and continue for several hours.

My children cannot tell time, so how do they know to fall apart at 4:00 on the dot? Apparently my children are not the only ones. It seems to be a universal pact among children to drive their already exhausted mothers’ mad from the hours of 4:00 -7:00 pm each day. I have had countless conversations about this phenomenon with my sister, women in my book club, ladies in my BUNCO group, and random frazzled mothers in the grocery store. We stand around scratching our heads asking each other:

“Why is it that as soon as I get ready to make dinner, my children melt into puddles of tears at my feet?”
“Why is it that the hours of 4-7 seem to last forever, while nap time goes by in a matter of milliseconds?”
“What possessed me to take my three-year-old and my infant out in public at 4:00 in the afternoon?”

Tick. Tock 3:59 pm. Tick. Tock. 4:00 pm.

Hold on to your patience Momma, here we go! Isabella starts to cry. I pick her up and nurse her. She quiets for a few seconds, before deciding it would be fun to poke and pull at my nipple. No way, sister. I sit her up and start to sing to her. She reaches past me to grab the remote control. She puts it in her mouth. I take it away. She screams. I give her a Batman toy that I find stuck in between the couch cushions. Alex comes running from the other room. “That is mine. She is slobbering all over it.” He takes it away. She screams.

I sit her on the floor with some toys. All is quiet for a few minutes. Alex comes hopping in holding himself, “I gotta pee. I gotta pee. I gotta pee.” He says he needs my help, so off we go. Isabella cannot see me anymore. She screams. The phone rings. It is my husband. “Hey hon, I am going to hit the gym on my way home from work, okay?” Without waiting for a response, one he knows he does not want to hear, he continues, “Jeez, I can hear her crying. I will let you go take care of her. See you in a few hours.” Click.

Tick Tock. 4:59 pm. Tick Tock. 5:00 pm.

Time to start dinner. I put Isabella in her highchair. She starts to fuss. I throw a few Cheerios on her tray as I get the rest of her dinner ready. Alex comes over. “Momma, I am really hungry.” I ask him what he would like to eat. His response, “You know.” Great! Guessing games with a three-year-old, my least favorite game. I start my list of healthy options: cheese, yogurt, cereal, apple. He shakes his head no and wanders off. I go back to cutting up blueberries for Isabella who has by this point eaten or dropped all of her Cheerios and is fussing for more. Alex is back with a popsicle in hand. “Momma, I climbed up on the cooler and opened the freezer door to get my popsicle. I am getting bigger.” I tell him that he can’t have a popsicle before dinner. He whines, he cries, he pouts and says, “I am mad because of you.” Isabella fusses because I have stopped shoveling the strained meat into her mouth. Alex continues to whine, cry, and pout. I crack under the pressure. I tell him he can have it if he promises to eat his dinner, knowing full well, he will no longer be hungry when dinner is served. Dinner! I have to start dinner.
I cut up the vegetables in between feeding Isabella. I have rhythm down, spoonful in mouth, cut up some cucumber, and so it goes for a blissful moment or two. Alex hops down from his chair leaving sticky fingerprints everywhere. “Momma, I gotta poop! NOW!” Off we go. Isabella can’t see me. She fusses. The phone rings. It is my husband. “Just leaving the gym. Going to stop by Home Depot and I will be right home. What’s for dinner?” Click.

Tick Tock. 5:59 pm. Tick Tock. 6:00 pm.

Dinner is underway. By now Isabella has eaten her weight in blueberries and Cheerios in an effort to buy myself a few extra minutes. Alex is begging me to let him eat leftover Easter candy. And even though I am exhausted and would love to collapse in a heap on the sofa, I do the only thing I know will keep them entertained, I turn on the music. We have a dance party! Five songs later, the timer is buzzing and I could swear I heard the garage door open two songs ago. But my husband has not come in the house. I look outside, he is watering the flowers! Doing my best not to lose my temper, I yell out to him to hold the baby while I get dinner on the table.

Dinner is served, and the boys sit down. I stand, balancing Isabella on my hip as I try to cut my chicken one-handed. Alex gets up five minutes later. He is not hungry. Surprise. Surprise. After dinner, we head upstairs to get Isabella ready for bed. Alex is playing with a wooden paddle toy, the kind with the elastic string and the rubber ball. As I am putting pajamas on a squirming Isabella, he is wrapping the elastic string around the doorknob. I ask him several times to stop. He ignores me and the ball breaks off. Then he proceeds to wrap the elastic string around his neck. My husband takes it away and throws it is the trash. Alex collapses into my arms. He sobs as if the dog just died, and I rock him in attempt to comfort and calm him. Isabella begins to screech, “Momma. Momma. Momma.” My husband tries to soothe her. “Momma. Momma. Momma.” Alex continues to weep. My husband looks on in complete dismay. I am ready to run screaming down the street.

Tick. Tock. 6:59 pm. Tick Tock. 7:00 pm

Alex settles after a promise to visit the dollar aisle of Target for a new paddle ball toy. We put Isabella in her crib and cover her up with her blanket. She smiles up at us as her eyes flutter closed and she drifts off to dreamland. My husband offers to give Alex his bath and get him ready for bed. I head downstairs to clean the kitchen and straighten the playroom, but first I make a necessary stop at the wine cooler. I pour myself a big glass of Chardonnay, and toast myself on surviving another evening with my little aliens, I mean children.

11 Months Old

Dear Isabella,

I am writing this a day early, because tomorrow we are heading to the beach again for 2 weeks. You still don't like the sand, but you love to sit on the blanket and play with your toys and read your books. You are a girl after my own heart. Once upon a time, I used to spend many a day on the beach reading for hours and hours. Now I am too busy taking care of you and Alex, but I wouldn't have it any other way. We had a fun July 4th, but you were scared of the fireworks. I was holding you tight. You didn't cry, but you buried your head under your blanket and went to sleep.

You are scooting all over the place. You sit on your bottom and bounce to get where you want to go. Sometimes you even bounce and make a complete circle. It is so cute to watch. You are pulling yourself up from a sitting to standing position too! I took you to the doctor this month and you weigh 17 pounds...such a little peanut!

You love when I sing to you. You are starting to learn the hand motions for "If You Are Happy and You Know It," "Itsy Bitsy Spider," and "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." You are really trying to talk too! You can say "Nana" and today I think you said "Dave."

I am busy planning your 1st Birthday Party! You aren't going to remember but one day I will show you the pictures and you will see how many people loved you and wanted to celebrate your big day. I am in shock that you are turning 1 in a month (and a day). This time last year, I was getting ready for you. I was trying to pack and finish picking out everything for our new house. All I could do was think about you. I thought you were going to come 3 weeks early like your brother, but you didn't. You were content as could be inside me, and as anxious as I was for you to get here, and as hot and big as I was, that last month of my pregnancy was such a special time. I already knew you and loved you so, now all I had to do was see you and hold you in my arms and I knew my life would be complete.

I can't believe that the next letter I write will be your birthday letter. I can't think about it or I will cry. Time is moving too quickly.

I love you so much Angel Pie,

Momma

Alex-isms 6

Just a few of the funny things that have come out of Alex's mouth lately -

1. I asked Alex where he would go if he go if he didn't stop acting up. His response?
"Jail."
(I was thinking his bedroom, but hey even better).

2. I asked Alex to pick up his game. His response?
"No, Momma it is your responsibility. My responsibility is to take it out and then watch you pick it up."

3. Alex's Nana told him that the color blue is pronounced bl-ue not b-00. His response?
"You say bl and I say boo."

4. I explained to Alex that he needed to have patience and wait for a drink because I was feeding Isabella. His response?
"I know Mom, you are only one person."

My Future is Behind Me

As I look behind me, I can see what lies ahead. When I gaze into my rear view mirror, I see my future. I see a little man, who at the age of three, loves to sing along to his favorite songs and have the sunroof opened wide because he likes the feeling of the wind in his hair. And with the help of a little mirror that is fastened to the back of her seat, I see a baby girl, who is twirling her little feet and happily chewing on her pacifier. I remember who they were as infants, and I see who they are now in their reflections. But more importantly, I can envision who they will become.

It is so ironic that so much of my past is made up of looking at myself in the mirror. When I was a little girl, I would examine my features to determine whether I looked more like my mom or my dad. In middle school, I spent hours trying to make sense of my suddenly curly hair. In high school, college and beyond, I stood in front of the mirror before countless dances, dates and interviews. Now I am a mother, and when I look into the mirror, I look past my own reflection to watch my children. They are the best reflection of who I am. They are an extension of me. They are my present and my future. I am their Momma, and they are so much a part of me that when I look at them, I see myself more clearly than ever before.

Alex has the biggest brown eyes. And to this day when I look in my rear view mirror, I can see that tiny baby I brought home from the hospital on that cold December day. He wore a knit hat on his head and his bright eyes took in his surroundings as we drove home from the hospital. From that moment I knew he was never going to miss a thing. Now three and a half years later, he is a boy, no longer a baby, but those eyes are the same. They are the windows to his emotions. When he is content, the joy can be seen in his eyes first before a smile even reaches his lips, and when he is angry, his eyebrows tell the story of his woe. In his eyes, I glimpse the baby he was and the man he will become. Alex is strong-willed and intelligent. He has to have things his way. As I spend my days trying to instill in him the importance of sharing, flexibility, and tolerance, I know what tries my patience is part and parcel of him being a little boy. But as I watch him in the rear view mirror and listen to his constant chatter, I can see that his independence, his determination and his stubbornness will always be a part of him. I envision him in elementary school working on a science project and getting frustrated when the outcome does not work out as he was sure it would. Then he is in high school unwavering in his efforts to get into the best college. Once he is there, he is in class arguing an issue and refusing to back down because he believes to be right, because after all, Alex is always right. I also witness the loyal, loving and empathetic Alex. He sings to his sister and makes her laugh as only he can. When she cries, he tells her, “It is okay, I am right here.” He will always be her protector, I know that. He will grow up taking care of his sister, as he will one day take care of his own wife and children. My heart wrenches as I see us dancing on his wedding day. Then he is there as a husband and a father, full patience and devotion and the drive to give them the best life has to offer.

Isabella’s eyes are the brightest blue. People constantly stop me everywhere I go to comment on her striking eyes. “Look at those eyes.” I do. Every chance I get. I am still trying to learn about her, and her eyes teach me something new everyday. I look at her reflection, and her eyes show me she is smiling even though she has the pacifier in her mouth. The day we brought her home from the hospital was as sizzling as Alex’s homecoming was frigid. I looked in the mirror and saw her tiny face and could not believe I had been blessed with another healthy, beautiful child. Images flash. I picture her chasing after her big brother. He is going to teach her all he knows: the good and the bad. Isabella is a Momma’s Girl from the minute she wakes up until I kiss her goodnight. If she is fussy in the car, all I have to do is start talking to her. My voice settles her; her eyes smile. As she grows, I know I will be the one who makes everything better. I am her Momma. I see drama and mischief in those eyes. She is going to give me a bit of trouble here and there. She is going to put her hands on her hips and tell me no. Isabella is very social, and I have a feeling she will have a lot of friends. She is sensitive. Her eyes can go from smiling to tear-filled in a matter of seconds. I can see some tears in her future, but I will be right there to dry them, and Alex will be right there to defend her. My breath catches as I see her walk down the aisle in a gown of white. Her husband and children will know exactly how much she loves them by looking into her eyes. Those blue eyes I see smiling at me everyday in the mirror will light up each and every time she looks at them. She will look at them with the adoration and devotion that only a mother can have.

I know that as I continue down the road with my children, there will be changes. Alex will graduate from a car seat to a booster to the back row of the minivan where he will sit with his buddies. Isabella will twirl her feet on the way to soccer practice and ballet recitals. But I know for sure that there will be a constant in our lives. When I look into that rearview mirror, I will be looking into their eyes. A boy with eyes of brown and a girl with eyes of blue, both miracles, manifestations of the person who loves them most, their Momma.

3 Step Program

Isabella and I have reached a turning point in our relationship. Although she continues to be a Momma's Girl, she no longer sees me as a food source. I am not sure how to feel about this. I am a little sad. I don't think I was ready for her to give up nursing. It all happened so suddenly.

For almost 10 months, Isabella only wanted to breastfeed. I thought for sure I would be able to nurse her until her first birthday. But I was wrong. A few weeks ago, she started drinking soy formula and with that has now completed a 3 step program to wean herself off of breastfeeding.

Step 1: Decide after several months of spitting the formula out all over clothes that you indeed like it.

Step 2: Bite Momma every time she tries to feed you. Throw in a couple times where you refuse to let go just for effect!

Step 3: Turn your head and refuse to nurse and cry until Momma makes a bottle.

I have to try to look on the bright side of things. Even though my baby is growing up too quickly, here are 3 positive things about no more nursing.

1. This morning at 6 am, she woke up and I tried one more time to nurse her. She looked up and me and started to cry, so for the first time in my life as a mother, I made a bottle at 6 am. She cuddled in my arms drank it as if it was the best tasting thing she had ever ingested. Then she went back to sleep until 8:30! I worked out, took a shower and drank a cup of coffee!

2. Tonight I ate seared tuna.

3. Tomorrow I am calling for my LASIK consultation!

10 Months Old

Dear Isabella,

Happy 10 month birthday. This month you have learned so many new things. You can blow kisses, you can find your toes, you love to show people your tongue, you can say Alex, but it comes out "Al-ll", and you can sign "more" and "all done." You love to share your food. And today, I swear you said, "hello." You are still not crawling, but you are thinking about it. And I know one day you are going to be off and moving, but right now you are still content to have me carry you around. You are like a little koala bear. Oh and you started drinking soy formula from a bottle. I am still nursing you though, neither of us are ready to give that up. When I think about it, I get all choked up!

You love the baby pool and being outside. You are not too thrilled with the beach. You will not put your toes in the sand. We are heading to the beach for 9 days tomorrow (I should be packing), so hopefully you will change your mind. We will celebrate the 4th of July there. That was the first holiday Daddy and I spent together, so we especially love it! You also are not a big fan of shopping. What is the matter with you? I am sure that will change once you realize that I buy you lots of great clothes. As of now, I end up piling all the bags in the stroller and carrying you around!

You continue to light up every room with your beauty and your adorable personality. It is as if you know you are cute and you know others think so too!

I love you Bella Boo,

Momma