I don't have a title today.

This will be somewhat depressing post, as I feel depressed.

Currently a local radio station is holding their annual Roofsit for Kids fundraising event. They sit on a roof for 48 hours and raise money to stop child abuse in West Michigan. People call in from all over and tell their stories. They break my heart, and I wish that I could donate as much as it would take to stop these monsters.

I can't even describe the article that I just read about a 15 week little girl. I'm not going to try. It is too heinous, and I truly hope that I forget it happened because it's so unbelieveable. I'm hoping that someday my children will read this blog and I don't want to taint their brains or put images in their heads.

All my children need to know is that parents have one main job and a neverending amount of other jobs. The main job of a parent is to protect their children. It's not a hard concept. You make sure they are fed, and changed, and warm in their jammies at bedtime. You make sure the doors to the steps are closed, and that there are plugs in the electrical outlets. Do accidents happen? Yes. Of course they do. Just last night Nathan left his razor by the side of the sink and Declan almost put it in his mouth. Once I put a hot dish too close to Cash and he burned his fingers when he touched it. I felt terrible. Things happen.

But to voluntarily abuse your children. To hit them because of problems in YOUR life. To tell them they are worthless and will never succeed. To violate their tiny bodies and take away their innocence. I do n.o.t. understand.  These are the people that can just go to hell. Not someday, when they are 90 years old. But now.  God can just take them away. Or the government can put them in an electric chair. I'm ok with that too. Just put these children somewhere safe. They need to be protected.

If you decide to have children, love them.  Or, even if you don't love them - maybe they were an unwelcome surprise - protect them by putting them with a family who WILL love them. There are thousands of parents out there who just need a child to love.

Scariest part of parenting for me is not being able to protect my children as they get older. I'll do the best I can. But I will never hit them. I will never tell them they are worthless. I will never beat or tear them down to make me feel better. The end.

Oh, and if you don't buckle your children into their carseat or make them wear a belt, shame on you. Even if you are a great parent, that is a fail. You aren't protecting them.

My silly boys

This one is for my Cashy and Dooby.

You are now 2 and 3, although Cash is edging his way into 4 in a matter of weeks.  We are planning on having a monster-themed party. But "nice" monsters, because Declan doesn't like scary monsters.

You two get along most of the time. Declan has to do everything that his bro-bro does, and most of the time Cash, you encourage him to do well. Although a few of those times you are, let's say, not so supportive.

You both love playing on the iPad. I think you like Mom's more than Dad's, but each have their own games at which you you enjoy and excel. You are both learning numbers, letters, and pick up more and more phrases every day. 

I love it when Cash says, "Apparently."  "Apparently, the ducks are really hungry because they are coming over so fast!"  I love it when Declan sticks his pointer finger up in the air to emphasize a point.  "O-tay, Mommy, and I'm going to be good boy!"  I love it when you laugh and giggle even after we turn out the lights and tuck you in. Then we have to go in and pretend to be not-very-happy that Declan is in Cashy's bed and you have super tight grips around each other's necks. But secretly, I am happy that you love each other so much.

Some of your favorite things to do are:

• Go for a bike ride where Daddy pulls you (especially if we end up at the ice cream shop)
• Go to the little place to get hot dogs (and sometimes ice cream)
• Jump off the couch onto the pillows (which is only an activity we do when Daddy is watching you)
• Go golfing with Daddy (and it's nice when Mommy comes, too)
• Go to the store (at Family Fare they have free popcorn, and at Meijer they have free cookies and a horse)
• Drop stuffed animals on your head from way up high when we tuck you in so you can catch them
• Hide from Daddy when he comes home from work so he thinks we aren't there
• You love to go camping. Particulary when you can run all over the camper without touching the floor

There is so much more. I'll have to come back and keep adding.  Mommy and Daddy love you both so much and cherish all the time that we have together. Please don't stop snuggling and kissing your Mommy. I think my heart would break.

Things my mother told me

In the fall I start thinking of my mom more than usual. This is around the time that she died and Suicide Awareness is all around. I even went back and listened to some voicemails from her that I have saved. That sounds weird, but it's actually kind of comforting.

I think she would be surprised at some of the lessons that she taught me that stuck. Things a child picks up on just by being around a parent. I still don't drink pop before 11am. Ever. I'll drink coffee and creamer it up enough that it probably has more calories than my beloved Dr. Pepper, but you know... coffee is a morning drink. Pop isn't to be drunk until after 11. Ever.

No tv in the mornings. We just don't do it. Morning time is for getting ready. You can read a book. Play in your room. Go back to sleep until it's time to go. But no tv. (She also didn't like radio music on in the morning either - which I made her listen to once I became an adult and was driver of the car -with it turned down low, of course.)  I don't whole-heartedly follow the no tv rule. Sometimes my boys watch a show in the morning while I'm getting ready. It keeps them happy and quiet.... until I turn it off. Then it's Meltdown City. And I think to myself, "Maybe my mother was on to something with the 'no-tv' rule."

I'm happy to say that I'm a giver. I get that from her - from both my parents actually. I donate time, energy, money when I have it.  I'm not sure if I've ever met a more giving person than my mother. If she ever saw a way to help, she would. When she heard of a neighbor's daughter's house burning down, she started a campaign in the apartment complex that she lived in to get them resources. When someone was sick, she'd come over and take care of them. When I had to work a lot, she'd come over and do my laundry. I'm so glad that I got that trait from her (except the love of doing laundry).

Don't get me wrong, she was sometimes a nutso energy sucker, but that's a blog for another time (or not).

I don't delude myself into thinking the last few years were great. They weren't that great. But they weren't that bad, and I'm happy that I was able to have a few years with her living close. I know that I tried my hardest to be a good and forgiving daughter, and to put up with her nuttiness because I knew that someday (probably not too far away) I wouldn't have a mother anymore. As crazy as she was, I miss her. She was my mom. Sometimes she is in my dreams and she's just Mom. I can hear her voice and she's usually being a little manic, but it's a comfort to me. I wake up and am happy that I was able to feel like I had a mom again, just for a few minutes.

I hate how much she's missing and how she made the choice to miss it. My children growing up. Her great-granddaughter being born. The last Twilight movie. Her two non-athletic daughters running a triathlon together. Sad.

But I do my best to keep her memory alive. We talk about Grammy with the boys. We look at pictures, and talk about the books Grammy gave Cash, or when she took him to the park, or held Declan for the first time. That's all we can do.

Who do we have?

I have to post this sweet story because I don't ever want to forget it.

Like most families, we have a bedtime routine. Start prepping them ("Okay... last show then it's bedtime"), then while they are watching some combination of Team UmiZoomi (if it's up to Declan) or Phinneus and Ferb (Cash's recent obsession, which actually isn't that bad...) they get their jams on.  After that it's a book or two, (most of the time) brushing their teeth, crawling through Mommy's legs to their room like bears/lions/dogs going into their cave, and going to sleep with the proper amount of snuggles, hugs, kisses, and dropping various stuffed animals onto their heads.

About three or four months ago we added another ritual which has turned into a hilarious and fun (although repetetive) thing. Daddy and I are getting a little tired of if EVERY night but we can't say no.  It started when Nathan was rocking with the boys in their room and I came in and said, "Who do we have here?!"  Then pointing at each one, I'd say, "Do we have peanut better, and jelly, and bread?" And they'd say "No....."  Then I'd say, "Do we have Vegas, and Sydney, and Dannydog?" And they'd say, "Noooo...." Then after about 6 more rounds of getting it wrong, finally I finish with, "Do I have Cashy, and Daddy, and Decky?" Then they all shout, "YES!!!"  and then they immediately get off the rocker and get in their beds.

So we alternate between who gets to sit in the rocker - Daddy or Mommy - and the things we come up with range from animals/pets, people we know, food we eat, places we go, clothes we wear. Seriously. Anything we can come up with. So last night Nathan and I really didn't want to do it so we were suggesting to them that THEY do it. Cash didn't want to. So we said, "Declan, you say who we have!" of course not expecting him to do it since he's only two.

But we should have known better!  Our little Decky-doo gets all serious and points to each of us and says in a very sweet voice with broken sentences, "uh-have Papa... and Gwamma Letta... and uh-ka (Erica)..." and we all said, "Noooo...." and he says, "uh-have kitty... and doggy...and bunny..." and we said, "Noooo...." Then he said, "uh-have chair, and chair, and chair?" and we said (while laughing in delight), "No..." and I said, "Do one more!" (just because I was loving it so much) and he pointed to each of us and said, "uh-have Daddy, and Mommy, and Cashy?"  And we all shouted, "YES!"

I was almost in tears from laughing and being so proud. What a smart kiddo! Cash has declared that he'd like to do it tonight so I'm much looking forward to seeing what he comes up with. My guess it will be centered more around farts, weiners, and eating things like worms.

This is an old picture, but it's the same rocker we sit in every night!

Molly + Nate does not = the same child (and that's ok)

Funny how different two kids can be. From one set of parents to another, yes it makes sense. But when the same two people keep having kids, it amazes me that they can be so different from each other.

Before we had Cash, Nathan and I had no idea what a little person that we created would be like. Would he have Dad's sense of humor and Mom's clearly superior looks? (Just kidding...) Would he be level-headed like Dad ("it is what it is"), or an emotional trainwreck like Mom (what do you MEAN you ate my Peanut Butter Cups!??)? Based on the printout that we got from Dave and Buster's when we put our two pictures together, our child was going to be doomed in the looks department.

What we got (the first time around) was a sweet, good-looking, and hilariously funny little boy (who definitely falls in the 'emotional' category, like Mom). His likes range from entertaining people, trying new foods, going to the store (especially when we all go), and gardening with Grandma. He dislikes S'mores when they are actually assembled, the part in All Dogs Go To Heaven where he realized that the little girl didn't have any parents (he sobbed over that one), and when the pink bear in Toy Story 3 yells at the other toys.  Other than that I've had a hard time coming up with things he dislikes. He's pretty easy-going like Dad, but emotional like Mom.

When Nathan and I wondered what our second child would be like, we imagined this child to be exactly like Cash. We don't have much imagination, so we just figured Molly + Nathan = a child like Cash.

Then along comes Declan. My more independent child. Sweet, loving, and also funny. Those are traits Cash has as well, so how can they be so different?! Declan has been independent from the moment he stopped breast-feeding at 6 months. I cried because he simply wouldn't do it anymore. No amount of coercion could convince him to be dependent on Mommy any longer. He's such a good little boy, but man, does he try my patience. Everything has to be done on his own and done the hard way.  He rarely wants help unless it's to read to him. He has very selective hearing (mostly when Mom is asking him to do something he doesn't want to do). And he's a tester. Where are the boundaries? How high will Mom count? Will she really stop at 3? What if I just go stand by the shoes but don't actually get them like Dad asked? Does Cash like it when I sit on his back in the bathtub and and pretend he's a horse (totally not kidding on that one)? I know it's all part of growing and and especially being 2, but Cash never really went through this phase (or it's just a difference in personalities) so it's been strange getting used to it.

He can be trying, but he's also very sweet. He is very smart and picks up puzzles and songs very quickly. He loves to tell jokes like Cash does, but it mostly consists of, "Knock knock" <who's there?> "ummmm...bro-bro" <bro-bro who?> "ummm.... Mama"  so we are still working on that. :)  And in the morning, and sometimes at night, he'll still snuggle with me. I cherish those moments and try to file away the memory under, "They'll never be this little again."

This doesn't even skim the surface of their different personalities. But no matter what they are like, Nathan and I are so proud of each of them. They are sweet, funny, well-mannered, smart, and they're ours.

In honor of Declan being such a little independent person, here are some shots of his newly acquired mohawk. And a silly one of Cash earning money by taking the cans back to Meijer.

Wiping off the dust

FFPHHEEEWWWW....  (That's me blowing the dust off this long-forgotten about blog.)

I'm tired of getting guilt-tripped by Katie (although she's really only reminding me of the guilt that I'm already feeling) about how I haven't written a blog post since NOVEMBER. I can tell you exactly why I didn't go back to writing, but mostly it would just be an excuse.

About a week after my last post, a friend of mine killed himself. More specifically, my best friend's husband killed himself.  So tragic, and for awhile I thought to myself that my blog seemed so trivial compared to what my friend is going through. How can I write about how happy my life is and how I feel so lucky when her life has now been turned upside down and her two-year old is now without her daddy? There's nothing to say, not much to do. and the fact that she lives 600 miles away just did not help the situation (in terms of me helping her). I wanted to write a post for him, and I started to a few times, but I could never get it right.

So I put it off... and off.. until I really recognized that my boys aren't getting any younger. In fact, every day they do something new and it amazes me. They make me laugh, and sometimes make me want to bang my head against a wall, but mostly they do the cutest little things that I don't want to forget. So here I go again... Blog, round 2.

Below is a picture of my aforementioned friend (to the right of Nathan) that was taken at Nathan's 30th birthday party. Sadly, the friend on the left also killed himself a few months after the picture was taken. Add that to my mother killing herself almost two years ago, and this is becoming a real downer of a blog.

Despite the conflicted emotions that come with looking at this picture, I still love it. What a great weekend that was. What sweet memories we have of our loved ones. Don, and Bill, and Mom... you are missed more than you know. So much is happening to the ones you've left behind, and you are missing it all. But as we move forward, and our kids get older, we'll cherish our memories and the times that we had together. Well, most of them. There are a few with my mother I'd rather forget, but what can you do?

womp, WomP WOMP....

And now...  on to happier (and mostly completely random) posts.