Or should I say years?  My youngest is three, and I so want him to be potty trained before the baby comes along.  There was a few days where I pushed him a bit, and needless to say it didn’t work.  My husband told me to let it go….give it time.  Tuesday night I was sitting outside with my oldest son.  He’s getting so big…he’s taller than me, starting to become a young man; little does he know how much his youngest brother looks up to him.  I asked C to encourage H to wear underwear.  To just mention that big boys use the potty.  He made a casual comment to H on Wednesday morning, “You are getting so big!  Almost time for big boy underwear!”  About an hour later, H announced on his own that he wanted to wear underwear.  He did great the entire day!  Told us when he needed to go potty, and when he was sleepy he told me he needed his pull up on.  Where did my baby go?  I find myself conflicted, a part of me is so proud of the steps he is making-sleeping in his own ‘big boy bed,’ learning to use the potty, vocalizing his needs, etc-but another part of me…a big part of my heart weeps for the baby I am losing.  Every step my boys make, while filling me with pride, hurts.  I miss the 10 year old that would drag his homework down to me and ask me for help….now he is 13 and ready to take on the world.  I miss the 8 year old that would often speak shyly embrassed about his speech, he now speaks with confidence and a strong voice.  A is only eight, and there are times when his innocence is so easy to see…so sweet, his chasing a bird, hoping the bird would land on a stick he was holding…and then there are times when I can see glimpses of the man he will become.  I see a strength in him that surprises me and fills me with pride.  And then there is our baby, who is quickly becoming a preschooler, and will then graduate to kindergarten and beyond.  My husband doesn’t quite get it, though I think if we have a little girl that will change, and I can understand why he doesn’t.  They are his boys….he looks on with pride as they reach another milestone, as they move past another phase in their childhood.  I know he relishes, fondly, the idea of these ‘little’ boys growing up to be men…men that he can be proud of, maybe even admire.  But as a mother, as the person that carried these little men under my heart, in my belly….I remember their first smile, the first time they called for me, their first day of school, and I find it hard to imagine that one day these young men will graduate from high school, college, get married and have children of their own.  It is hard for me to let them go.

I remember reading a few years ago in a magazine that having a child is like cutting out a piece of your heart and learning to let it go.  How apt is that?  And it only makes me realize that four pieces of my heart, soon to be five, will be leaving their mark on the world.  Will hopefully, make a difference to someone, somewhere.  Someone other than ‘dear ole mom’ that is.

Sheesh…where to begin!

The vacation was fun!  Admitedly, my inlaws and my husband are a little more easy going than I am,  but I did have a nice trip.  We took the kids to the World of Coke, something I had been looking forward too and I think everyone had a nice afternoon.  Everyone enjoyed the tasting room, where they had over 60 different drinks from all around the world.  We tried to taste all of them…and let me tell you, some were not worth tasting!  YUCK!  We also took the boys to Stone Mountain….something I was not sure I was looking forward too.  The cable car ride to get up to the top of the mountain was intense.  I am afraid of airplanes, but I didn’t think it would bother me that much!  I think Roy was a tad frustrated with me…but I did my best.  The boys were very kind…I think C and J were worried that I would pass out or something, but they rode back down with me and made sure I was ok.  I will say we stayed for the laser show that evening and it was a blast!  None of us were sure what to expect, but it was great!  Good music and they had laser ‘videos’ in sync to each one.  And of course me-ma bought the kids light sabers and flashlights so the kids all loved that.

We also came home with a little addition to our family.  No, I didn’t have the baby early!  We have a new puppy.  An American Eskimo that we named Apollo.  Yes, it was my affinity for the Rocky films that caused me to pick that name, but the kids and R seem to like it.  It’s rough, house and crate training is no fun…and I am a novice at it.  So I get frustrated easily, but who wants to be washing dirty towels all day everyday!  But the kids are trying, and they seem to really adore him….so I am crossing my fingers that this works out.

Now for my rant!  One of my second cousins, whom I email often is getting ready to have her baby.  Unfortunately, the baby is happy where she is, and she might have to be induced…so my question is…IF you are her friend and you have had a rough experience with induction…WHY would you go into detail  telling her about it, when you know she might very well have to be induced herself?  Is scaring a mother about to go in the hospital for an induction something to be proud of?  Is that the ultimate goal?  To strike fear in other women…I mean, let’s do what we can to make EVERYONE’S labor rough?  A doctor explaining the possible risks or side effects is one thing, but woman to woman..hashing out horror stories…COME ON!  Sheesh!

Tomorrow, I will let you all know about my own yummy time hanging out with the porcelain God.