Most of the time, I can’t figure out how to explain to childless individuals how simply amazing being a mom can be. I think this may work though:

Last night, as I was putting Bee to sleep by singing our nightly songs (SEVEN songs, to be exact), Bee declared that she was mad.

You see, lately Bee has decided that any negative attitude can be explained by nightmares the previous night (whether or not nightmares actually occurred, of course). So I began explaining how she could simply tell her bad dreams that they were meany jelly beanies and that she was going to be happy anyway and wouldn’t let bad dream make her mad anymore.

Bee’s response was to throw her arms around me, snuggle close and say, “…or you could gimme lots a hugs…”

Yep, that works for me.

Song title: Bad Dream by Keane

Bee: Daddy, can you take Bug to another room so I can play?

Mr. Bee: Sure, honey. In just a minute.

Bug walks past Mr. Bee, trips and falls. Bug starts crying.

Bee: Aaaaaawkward…

Song title: My Daughter by Bermuda Mavericks

Me: Hey, Mr. Bee. This is weird. This article says that the Seals that killed Osama Bin Laden died in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan.

Mr. Bee: Hmmm.

Bee: That IS weird! Seals shouldn’t be in a helicopter!! They should be in the water!

Me: ((laughing hysterically))

Song Title: From Mouth Of Babes by Old Californio

I’ve been pretty lucky in my life, especially when it comes to my children.

I can count on one hand how many times my heart has broken for my children. In fact, as far as Bee is concerned, it’s only happened twice.

The first time was when Bee declared to the extended family her intention to marry her seven-year-old cousin.

Yes, it’s her cousin. Yes, her cousin is a girl. But she’s four, so who really cares, right? If she insists that she will marry my niece and that they will have babies together and live next door to a Red Robin, more power to her!

But my sweet, poor niece had no idea how obsessed committed Bee is about this life plan of hers. So when my niece heard the declaration, her immediate reaction was, “What? I’m not gonna marry Bee! Don’t be silly!”

What happened next will forever be etched in my mind.

Immediately Bee turned toward me with confusion-filled eyes. Then, from the inside out, she absolutely crumbled under the thought of not being able to marry her beloved cousin.

I had never, and have never since, seen Bee so emotionally broken and it broke me to the core.

Don’t get me wrong, we got her cousin to rescind her comment and they are now planning their 2030 wedding.

But the heartbreaks continue.

Just the other day, Bee got the chance to play with a friend that she hasn’t seen for more than a year. For more than a year, these two played together all the time, but because of some recent mommy drama bullshit, I don’t expect that playdates will be scheduled any time soon.

But to see the girls, who immediately were drawn to each other and played together during the entire event, just broke my heart for my girl who doesn’t even realize why she doesn’t get to see her little friend anymore.

I know that the heartbreaks, for her and for me, are only beginning.

There will be boys breaking her heart, friends being total asshats and more drama than I can even imagine. I just hope that I can soften the heartbreak for her along the way.

Now if I could only figure out how to soften the heartbreak for me…

Song title: Breaks My Heart by Monica

Most people warn you about the Terrible Twos.

“Ha!” you say. “The Terrible Threes are the worst!”

Well, I call Bullshit. With a capital Bee.

You see, my daughter turned four in April and during the last month she has been horrible. Well, horrible doesn’t quite cover it.

It’s like if you took a lioness on her period, starved her for a week and then got her hopped up on Red Bull and Four Loko and then placed her in a room full of helpless little puppies.

It’s a blood bath.

And if you didn’t understand the analogy, I’m the unsuspecting puppies.

One minute she’s snuggling the shit out of me and saying things like, “Mom? You know what?” ((pause for an ungodly amount of time for dramatic purposes I’m assuming)) “I love you to the moon and stars.”

And just as my heart begins to melt in to a puddle, the hyper/drunk lioness on the rag comes out.

Today, she screamed for a half hour because I wouldn’t rock her like a baby before her nap like her father did last night before bed. Thanks, honey.

Yesterday, she had a my-life-is-coming-to-an-end screaming fit because she didn’t want to wear socks with her tennis shoes, yet didn’t want to wear her tennis shoes without socks.

I know she’s only four years old, but come on! Even she has got to admit her faulty (and fucking ridiculous) logic.

Oh, and did I mention that her tantrum today (about the rocking/I can’t sleep without Mommy or Daddy because I’m a baby) woke up her sleeping baby brother? Yeah, people almost died.

The topper is that all the tantrums relate to her not being able to do a goddamn thing independently since turning four.

That’s right. No going potty by herself. No dressing herself. Sometimes even refusing to feed herself.

Until now, Mom and Dad were playing nice. Firm, but nice.

Well, now the big guns come out.

I suspect that there will be a great many screaming fits coming from her room as I plan to semi-permanently banish her there come the next blowout.

But, hey. Maybe now I’ll have more time to blog…

Song title: Four Years Old by Adam Sandler

So this last weekend, I decided to take los bebes to my parents’ house about 60 miles away.

By myself.

I’ll just let that sink in for a moment.

Done laughing?

Yeah. It was fan-fucking-tastic.

At least the ride down was anyway.

For the first thirty minutes of the hour and a half drive, the kids were great. Cute. Giggling at each other. Being relatively tolerable.

And then the crying began.

To be fair, it was mostly Bug. Mostly.

It was then that it occurred to me that Bug is simply incapable of handling a car ride longer than twenty minutes before morphing from mah precious liddle bebe in to a hell demon.

I had already dealt with about thirty minutes of crying when, while scanning radio stations, Bug quiets down to one particular tune.

By the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Kill me now. Fer serious.

Add in a sprinkling of Bee wanting my attention every two minutes while driving in traffic and I was this close to slitting my wrists with my bluetooth headset.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad. I don’t want to be melodramatic, but let’s just say that I would’ve rather walked the 60 miles to my folks’ house.

Barefoot.

On shards of glass.

Pulling a car Biggest Loser-style.

Needless to say, Mama is counting the milliseconds until Vegas.

Only 240,800,000 to go…

Song title: Kids Aflame by Arms

To My Beloved Baby Bee,

My little, squishy, baby Bee. Where have you gone? All I see here is a beautiful and amazing four year old, growing like a weed before my eyes!

Who gave you permission to grow up so quickly, by the way?

This last year, the year of the Terrible Threes, has been full of firsts:

* Becoming potty training, which took you approximately two days to get the hang of.

* Going to preschool.

* Sleeping in a big girl bed.

* Starting to read and growing a vocabulary that will soon put your mommy and daddy’s to shame.

* Becoming a big sister to your baby brother.

All of your accomplishments make me and your daddy so proud of you, but the one thing that you have done that has surpassed our wildest dreams, is what a wonderful sister you have become to your little brother.

When he arrived to our world, your daddy and I hoped for the best, but were prepared for the inevitable jealously or difficult transition you would face having to share mommy and daddy’s time.

But I think the first time you held Cletus Peaches Bug in your arms, you were in love. Every day, you and your brother share smiles and giggles. You smother him in kisses and love to play with him, even if you do call him “Boy!” and whistle at him like he’s a puppy…

Despite your stubbornness and the occasional (haha) tantrum (I have no idea what side of the family you get this from!), you are so sweet and full of love for all of your family and friends. Even when you made a wish on your birthday candles this year, you wished for “all my family and friends to come to my birthday party. Thank you, ‘Bee’.” I mean, really. Too cute for words.

I hope your upcoming year will be full of adventures, excitement, definitely some learning, but, above all, love and laughter with your loved ones.

I love you to the moon and stars and even Mars.

Your Mommy

Can you believe how much the kids look alike?!

photo by La Luz Photography

photo by La Luz Photography

photo by Jessica Hamlin Photography

Song title: Big Bee by Reverend Raven & His Chain-Smoking Altar Boys

Happy Birthday to my sweet little Bee! I can’t believe that you are four years old already!!

Birthday Breakfast Picnic

To celebrate, Bee would like to write a message to y’all:

abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz

(Holy crap, that just took her like 85 years to type…)

She insists I follow up with:

“Now I know my abcs. Next time won’t you sing with me!”

Now she wants to type the lyrics of all the songs she knows for you. I’ve created a monster.

But you already knew that!

Happy Birthday, little Bee! We love you!

Song title: The Birthday by Dalriada

First of all, I totally apologize for the photo-heavy posts lately! I have to take this crawl out of the pit of sleep-deprivation and bloglessness slowly…

So last weekend, for my parent’s 40th wedding anniversary (which, wow, seriously. FORTY YEARS!?), the whole family got together for a professional photo shoot.

Yeah, I know. I’m a total photo whore. I can’t get enough of professional photos! It’s getting slightly ridiculous.

Anywho, we received a few sneak peeks from the photographer (Jessica Hamlin Photography = winning!). Upon viewing the photo, I realized that I have a photo checklist that I go through in my head to decide whether or not the photo, or more honestly ME in the photo, passes judgment.

Here is the photo:

Here is my mental checklist of myself:

Final Judgment:
Babies are the best camouflage ever! Will now be carrying a baby in front of my stomach wherever I go.

Thank you Jessica Hamlin Photography for the awesome photos!

Song title: Worst Critic by Daize

Can you believe that Bug is SEVEN MONTHS old now?

I swear that from birth to just four months old with Bee took, I don’t know, roughly a trillion and a half years. Not that I didn’t enjoy it, but I may have been counting the minutes and seconds until she got a bit older/bigger/less lump on a log-ish.

But with Bug, I swearz that he was just born! At least my scale swears that he must have JUST been born. And my photos seem to document that I am still with child.

Cuz I be fat, yo.

Don’t believe me? Check out this photo of me looking like I am the Pillsbury Dough Boy. I look like I fucking ATE Peach and Mario. And probably Yoshi too.

Speaking of photos, want to see some of my cute little Bug?

Too bad, I’m gonna show you some anyway.

We of course don’t have a 7 month photo yet because we never remember to do the photos until it’s a week or two AFTER he has his…monthday? Month-birthday? Whatever, you know what I mean.

I don’t want to leave Bee out of the photo-palooza, so here is my little girl on the first day of swim lessons!

This photo was taken after I had asked her 45 times whether she needed to pee before lessons and roughly 10 minutes before she was already in the pool and decided that she indeed DID need to pee.

Oy.

Song title: Comparing Photos by Marco Beltrami