My husband’s been working non-stop for the past two weeks. Which, is awesome because it means he has a job.

But, I won’t lie. It’s been exhausting not having my more-mature half around.

These boys, they’ll run you ragged. People do it everyday, though, so I won’t complain (anymore).

He left to work early yesterday morning, with me wrapped around his leg crying and pleading with him.

Take me with you. Don’t leave me with them. They are evil.

He shook his leg a few times, flicked me like a bug, and was off.

Then, right on cue, it started pouring rain.

Of course.

Luca was begging to go outside and “check the weather.” I was a total stick in the mud about it for like two minutes, until I remembered how much fun is to play in the rain.

I told them to have at it and the rain dance began.

Initially, Leo was very skeptical of the buckets of water falling from the sky, choosing to observe his big brother a bit before getting his own feet wet.

Then, he slipped and fell on his tiny ass.

And, Luca was all, “Come on, dude. Don’t be such a baby. Man up.”

That’s when I remembered the raincoats and boots we all had.

And when they remembered the bald spot in our yard and were all like sweet, mud!

The sky began to rumble, telling us it was time to head in and give my dog a xanax, her Thunder Shirt, and some boob-pillow time.

I made the boys some train tracks, so they could play with them for two minutes before yelling, “I’m sooooo bored.”

Just as I’d started to think, “Man, this day is going beautifully and who even needs a god damn man anyway?” the universe laughed loudly, waved it’s finger back and forth and said, “Not so fast, oh confident one.”

And, at 0-something-hundred-i-don’t-know-how-the-fuck-to-read-military-time hours, the longest day of my life began.

Trigger warning: If you’re easily offended by plumbing issues, or snail and slug invasions, you might want to skip tomorrow’s post.

Until then…

My sweet ear-infection plagued boy finally got his tubes put in this week. And, it could not have gone any smoother.

An hour post-surgery, he was on cloud nine. Which, I’m sure had everything to do with fact that his ears were fluid-free for the first time in a year.

And, three hours post-surgery? The kid was all spunk and mischief.

I’ll let you see for yourself.

*Translation: Peace out, Bibi (his grandmother).

There’s nothing better than that.

Have a wonderful weekend and, as always, thanks for taking the time to read my words.

They need two turn tables and a microphone…

And one of them also needs clothes…

Dog x 16
By Luca

A Boy and His Shoes…

Little Man in A Big World…

Stay tuned for my new Project: We See You mission.

And, thanks for squeezing us into your day!

“Oh, what beautiful children you have! Do tell me their names.”

Go on, boys, tell the nice lady your names.

“I’m Hold On.”

“And, my name is Gimme a Second.”

Oh, these boys of mine, always joking around. This is Luca. And, this little guy here is my youngest, Leo.

* * *

Okay, okay, so this didn’t actually happen.

Yet.

But, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.

I spend more days than I should phoning it in, and putting the unimportant before my most important.

Give me just a second, while I reply to this tweet.

Hold still for a minute, honey, so I can capture this moment instead of participate in it…you know, for my blog.

I tell myself they’re still too young to know better, but that’s a lie. Just because they’re not able to articulate it doesn’t mean they don’t feel it.

Somehow, though, they always seem to forgive me, but I’m trying to shape up before they get any older.

* * *

Sweet boys of mine,

I’m still learning everyday how to be your mother.

I try hard to be the best, but I still mess up more than you deserve.

I’m not perfect, and I’ll never pretend to be. But, I’ll always apologize to you when I’ve done wrong. Even tiny-sized children deserve adult-sized respect.

You’re not perfect, either, and I won’t pretend you are. In fact, I want you to know just how imperfect you are. Because, we all are, and isn’t it lovely?

I cherish that I’m getting to know you at the same time you’re getting to know yourself. And, that you’re getting to know me at the same time I’m still getting to know myself.

The complicated journey of self-discovery has just started for you. And, there’s no final destination, just little pit-stops along the way.

I wish I could tell you it’s easy, this growing up stuff, but it’s not. It’s incredibly hard. Never let anyone discount that or minimize it.

You’ll try on a million different hats until you find the one that fits, which will probably end up being the very first one you tried on.

You’ll question who you are often and, when you don’t like the answer, you’ll try to be someone different.

And, that’s okay, we all do it.

But, me? I’ll never question who you are. I’ll only love you, all of you, even the parts you hate. And, when you’re pretending to be someone different, I’ll be here to guard those parts and keep them safe. Because, trust me, one day you’ll want them back.

As your mother, I’m looking forward to so many milestones.

I can picture them now…

I’ll sit on the sidelines and cheer loudly for my baseball all-star. Or, sit in the front row, and silently pull for my ballerina.

I’ll watch in awe at how fearlessly you take on life, attacking it head-on. Or, the way you cautiously approach it, preferring to get your toes wet before diving in.

I’ll talk loud on how brilliantly academic you are, and how effortlessly you earn perfect marks in every subject. Or, the way you put in your all, and study day and night to raise that D to a C.

I’ll beam with pride at how outgoing and confident you are when you walk into a room, and how much you relish the spotlight. Or, at how incredibly shy you are, comforted most by shadows and shining your brightest when no one’s looking.

I’ll stand proudly by your side the day you find God. Or, the day you find you don’t believe in him.

I’ll leap for joy when you find your wife. Or, your husband. Or, the day you decide you don’t want either.

I’ll cry tears of happiness when you finally make me a grandmother to a bouncing baby girl. Or, stray cat. Or, a Chia Pet.

I’ll embarrass you often, bragging to everyone about my handsome, wealthy, heart surgeon of a son. Or, my broke, starving, artist of a man.  Or, my hardworking, honest custodian.

For, you see, it’s simple.

The only thing I expect of you is to choose what makes you happy, independent of what’s considered the norm or what makes others happy.

It’s not your job to live for anyone, especially not for me.

But, it is my job to live for you.

And, because I take this job very seriously, I’ll do things that you won’t understand sometimes.

Like pushing you to take chances on things that terrify you.

Or, stepping back and letting you fall.

I won’t try to fix everything for you. It’s not my place. But, I will always be close by to pick you up and dust you off.

I expect you to be kind, to defend those that are weak, and try to make the world a little better than you found it, any chance you get.

I’ll take you out of your comfort zone, and expose you to things and people that are different from you. I refuse to let you miss out on diversity and all the beauty it brings.

I’ll tell you incessantly to be grateful for all you that have, then remind you that none of it makes you better than those who have-not.

I’ll push you to be gracious and generous. And, not for praise or the expectation of something in return, only because it’s the right thing to do.

You’ll see all of this as nagging, and you’ll roll your eyes and stop your feet and slam your door in my face.

Sometimes you won’t like me, and you’ll tell me so. You may even tell me how much you hate me.

But, don’t worry, it’s a rite of passage, and I’ve already forgiven you. There’s nothing you can say or do to make me love you less.

Life is unpredictable, and ever-changing. With the good comes the bad, and with the happy, the sad. But, there’s one thing that will always remain constant.

I’ll always be here to hold your hand.

Even when you’re trying to let go.

Yesterday was one of those days that seemed like it would never end. I had a ton of things to do and planned it all very poorly, which ended up interfering with Leo’s afternoon nap.

As in, he didn’t get one.

And, if you’ve ever gone to Target with both kids in tow, you know it can get pretty messy. Especially, if one of them is hungry or tired.

I was making my way through the store, when Leo ripped off both his shoes, throwing them down the aisle with the skill of an all-star pitcher.

As I ran to scoop them up, Luca began shouting, “MOMMY, Leo won’t stop touching my penis! Leo won’t stop touching my penis! STOP TOUCHING MY BODY, LEO. This is MY penis.”

On one hand, I was proud that he knew to say “THIS IS MY PENIS,” because of, you know, stranger danger. But, on the other hand, having him repeatedly yell penis in the middle of Target was a little startling to…everyone.

During this ordeal, Leo kept hitting the button on his new toy car, prompting the song feature.

Won’t you take me to…a funky town….over and over and over again.

Luca was angry and defiant when I told him the town was funky.

“Mommy, it’s CRAZY town, not FUNKY.”

Crazy town, indeed.

I was smack dab in the middle of that moment.

The moment when you’re sweating, and positive that all eyes are on you and your shitty parenting. It’s easy to forget that, most of the time, people are too busy stressing out about their lives to notice ours.

Just as I was about to lose my shit, an older woman approached me.

What the hell is she going to say to me? That my boys are out of control? That they’re causing a ruckus? That I suck as a mom? I know all this. Move along, lady.

Instead, she gently laid her hand on my shoulder and, with the warmest look in her eyes, said, “Honey, I just want to tell you that you’re doing a marvelous job as their mommy. You got this.”

It had to have been at least three decades since she had stood in my stressed-out shoes, but she could see in my eyes that I was in major need of some encouragement.

Those words took mere seconds out of her day, but they changed mine completely.

You know what? I do have this.

That simple shift in my attitude carried over to my boys, and left us all much more relaxed.

I laughed, thanked her, and we went our separate ways.

But, I wish I’d said more. I wish I had told her that her support, her kind eyes and warm smile, had made such a difference in my day.

In a city of six million people, the odds that I’ll see her again are tiny, so all I can do is pass it on.

Whether it be a look of solidarity, or a quick, “Oh, mama, I’ve been there. It’s so hard, sometimes. But, you’re doing awesome,” makes no difference.

Sometimes, all we need is support from our stranger-friends, from those who’ve been there, to turn our day around.

A few aisles over, Leo chunked his shoes, again, straight at another shopper.

“Uh-oh!” said the innocent victim.

This time, instead of getting all sweaty and panicky, I laughed out loud, and told him, “Being the mom of two boys isn’t easy, but it’s definitely never boring.”

Then, I walked away, the three of us singing as loud as we could.

Won’t you take me to, a CRAZY town…

Leo has love to dance from the moment we met him.

Luca, not so much, until now.

He’s finally found his rhythm, and it totally rocks.

And, they’re both mini-masters when it comes to playing the one-handed air guitar.

If you’re an email subscriber, click through to see the dance party.

This weekend, we spent a lovely morning with new friends at the Houston Zoo.

One of Luca’s favorite activities is feeding the giraffes.

And, although I’m pretty sure it’s the most expensive lettuce in the history of lettuce, if you can swing it, it’s so worth it.

He loves it almost as much as I do.

That particular morning, I snapped several pictures of Luca and his new buddy, feeding their tall friend.

Nothing super spectacular, just your everyday zoo shots.

But, later that night when I went over them, I noticed something that had previously gone overlooked.

My youngest, Leo, in the background, meeting a giraffe for the first time.

Upon even deeper inspection, though, it became more than just your generic boy-meets-giraffe snapshot.

Taking that second-look at the big picture revealed something unintended, but oh-so-wonderful.

Capturing Leo’s interaction with something new told a story, one that depicted human-nature in it’s most basic form.

His fear, hesitation, acceptance, and love unraveled before me, one by one.

And, I related to it strongly.

Because, just like Leo, we’re all scared of trying new things, or of meeting new people.

Venturing into uncharted territory can be terrifying.

And, not just for you and me. That fear, the fear of what’s different, doesn’t discriminate; it’s innate, and in all of us.

But, when we do give different a chance, the things we receive in return, the doors we open, can be amazing.

A brand new world.

New interests.

A different perspective.

New found peace.

A friend.

Freedom.

I wish the biggest of us would take our cues from the smallest of us, more often, and take chances on things even when they scare us.

Most of the time, in doing so, we’ll end up gaining something invaluable, something we didn’t even know was missing.

Because, nine times out of ten, my friends…

That big, scary giraffe, the one that seems different?

Is just like you and me.

Parenting is hard.

We have to deal with things like seeing our babies sick, projectile vomit, and a four year old mini-Picasso painting their bright-blue masterpieces on our clean, white garages (ahem, Luca.)

Everyone tells me it gets harder as your kids get older. But, most of the time, I’m knee-deep in kid-shit and way too busy to worry about what’s to come.

Yes. I’m well aware that their questions will become more difficult with each birthday they celebrate, but I’m barely hanging on as it is, you guys. Taking things one day at a time is all I can handle.

For now, I make sure to answer my boys open and honestly, giving them as much as their little brains can process.

But, I always try my best to tell it like it is.

My husband once asked me why I introduced words like penis and vagina into Luca’s vocabulary.

Umm, because that’s what they’re called? What should I tell him to call it…a cock?

Kids deserve our honesty, even when it’s uncomfortable for us.

I mean, do I dread the day when the Mommy, what does pizza look like when you throw it up turns into the Mommy, how are babies made?

A little.

Although, I’m pretty confident, because I totally have a fail-proof plan as to how I’ll approach these kinds of things.

(Plans? Ha. Children laugh in the face of plans.)

But, I’m certainly in no rush to tackle these doozies.

And, luckily, I haven’t had to go there yet, because my boys are still at an age where I can control their environment.

Just yesterday, I thought about how relieved I was that Luca wasn’t around when I was unwillingly exposed to pigeon pornography.

Oh, but not so fast with that big sigh of relief, Allison.

Hours after my little pigeon peep-show, the animal kingdom decided it wasn’t quite done fucking with me.

As I was getting Luca ready for bed I heard him scream.

“MOMMY! Come here now. WHAT are these guys doing? WHY is my boy frog sitting on top of my girl frog like that?”

Of course, our frogs had decided to do it froggy-style right there in plain sight for all the world to see. OF COURSE THEY HAD.

Oh…well…honey…that’s…umm…how they make their babies do you want a giant cookie before bed oh look there’s a bird.

“They hug each other, mommy?”

Oh. Yes…Ha…YES! They totally have to hug each other to make babies.

And, although the explanation was one of pure innocence and the crisis seemed averted,  I could see that somewhere, deep in his four year old head, he knew there was way more to the story than that.

Please, animal kingdom, I beg of you.

Get a room.

Because, it turns out, I am so not ready for this shit.

When I was a little girl, my mom’s first battle of the day was getting me out of bed in the morning.

In between getting herself dressed and making us breakfast, she’d pop her head in my room every few minutes, and try to hustle my lazy ass.

Now, I don’t know if this makes me a bad mom, but the morning routine around here is pretty much the exact opposite.

Luca wakes up, comes downstairs, and crawls into our bed…if he isn’t already in it, of course.

(Leo inherited the lazy gene, and sleeps in until someone wakes him.)

With one eye closed, I sweep my hand across the covers in search of the remote. Then, I flip on the television to buy myself at least two Super Whys worth of extra sleep.

This continues until, inevitably, I’ll glance at the clock and feel the panic set in.

Where are your shoes?

Have you brushed your teeth?

Please eat the rest of your breakfast.

Where’s your backpack? It’s time to GO!

Why are you naked again?!!!

Who peed on the floor?

Since last week was Spring Break, though, we were afforded a nice change in pace.

There was no rushing to have anyone ready for anything.

For me, this meant at least three Super Whys worth of extra sleep.

For Luca, it meant cold pizza for breakfast.

But, yesterday afternoon, I noticed Luca had been doing more than watching cartoons and eating pizza.

Apparently, while I was catching those extra few minutes of shut-eye, he was using my iPhone to hone his photography skills.

And, in doing so, he captured our mornings around here beautifully.

He got his lazy mom in all her drooling-glory…

 He perfected the art of the selfie…

Then moved on to the more abstract…

It seems the kid spent quite a bit of time sharpening his skills…

And, I’m so grateful.

Because, this was just the wake-up call I needed to get the big picture.

The time has come for me to grow-up, be the adult, and make some changes on how I run things around here.

You know, like making sure my iPhone is locked in between snoozes.

Tis true.

I’m a sucker for surprises.

Getting them and giving them.

It’s fun to make people happy.

I overdo things so much on holidays, it’s shocking my kids didn’t get an enormous stuffed groundhog on Groundhog’s Day.

And, while Valentine’s Day is still fun in the romantic sense, it’s become even more fun for me since Luca and Leo came along.

Last night, I set up a Valentine’s morning love-fest for all my boys, big and small.

I posted this picture on my social media networks and got plenty of, “Wow! You sure do go all out!”

But, my friend Nicole really hit the nail on the head, as to why I always go big or go home.

I even bought my husband three separate cards, because I loved them and HOW COULD ANYONE EXPECT ME TO MAKE SUCH AN ENORMOUS DECISION AND JUST CHOOSE ONE?

The boys eyes popped out of their heads as they walked into our kitchen this morning.

We sat cross-legged on the floor and dug through the goodies and sweet-treats.

And, this is when it dawned on me just how different my boys’ personalities are.

I turned Luca’s lobster on for him….

And, immediately, he clasped a hand over each of his ears.

Mommy, it’s so loud.

I jumped over him to shut the thing up, and then went to hunt down my little escapee, Leo, to give him his flamingo….

In seconds, his expression went from curious to hesitant. I assumed he’d followed Luca’s lead, and quickly turned it off.

That’s when he began to cry…for me to turn it back on.

And then he danced.

Right before we left for school, I found Luca in the den inspecting his red-hot lobster. This time, he turned it on himself.

And then he laughed.

Sure enough, he just needed some time to warm up to it on his own terms…like everything in life.

This is the blueprint for all things that come their way.

They couldn’t be more different, or more perfect, in their own way.

And, whaddya know, someone even remembered mommy!

My husband surprised me with a Leo to match my Luca.

Which, made my surprises for him seem…not as romantic.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m on my period and here’s three cards and a Kurt Vonnegut shirt…

If you’re not a Vonnegut fan, but you still think you have an idea as to what this is, you’re…ahem…probably right…even though you don’t want to be.

Yes. I gave my husband a t-shirt with a butthole on it for Valentine’s Day.

I know….I KNOW!

Anyway, no matter how you celebrate today – be it cautiously or wildly, with jewelery or with a butthole, I hope it’s just perfect.

And, now my head-cold and I are off to crawl into bed, as we weepingly wonder what in the hell we were thinking giving the boys such LOUD singing creatures.

Happy Valentine’s Day, sweet friends.