Category: motherhood

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Happiness Creeps In

Lily is five, but by the way she is acting I feel like she’s hit puberty early. She says things like, “I hate you, Mommy!” and “Mommy, you’re so mean!” She throws crying, screaming fits when I tell her it’s time to turn off the T.V. or that she can’t have dessert. (Give that kid sugar? No way!) She refuses to listen to my suggestions on how to do certain things. “I want to do it MY WAY, Mommy!” When I try to snuggle with her at bedtime, she’ll push me away and say, “Your breath smells, Mommy. Go brush your teeth!”

Lily was no angel before, but her willful behavior has suddenly escalated in the past two months.

Hmm…two months. Two months of absolutely, positively, horrible behavior. Two months since Lily’s grandma died.

In an abrupt contradiction to this behavior, Lily is very observant to certain things. “Mommy, why is your nose red?” she’ll ask. “Mommy, are you sniffing?” Yes, Lily, I’m sniffing, but I only have a runny nose, I reassure her as I reach for a tissue.

Two nights ago, I went into Lily’s room to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight. Instead of the usual “your breath reeks” comment, she asked me to snuggle with her for a while.

Snuggle? With Lily? YES, LILY, I WILL SNUGGLE WITH YOU!!!

I crawled into bed with Lily, my heart full of happiness. I held her close, smelled her hair, and kissed her cheek. Lily snuggled back.

And then she said, “Mommy, don’t breathe on me!”

Happiness is a state of mind at Sprite’s Keeper. Put your spin on it!
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Sticky Little Hand Prints

Late last night, the girls were asleep, and while I was in the master bedroom, I heard some furious whispers coming from the stairwell. I crept out to investigate, and saw no one there. I knew it had to be Ed making those noises, but at the same time I wondered what in the world was making him talk to himself?

As I wandered downstairs, Ed soon appeared with a spray bottle of Formula 409. Now I knew exactly what he was up to. There were several sticky little hand prints on the wall going up the stairs, and Ed had spotted them.

About a year before Ed and I were married, I brought up the idea of adoption. After having breast cancer, chemotherapy, taking the drug Tamoxifen for five years, and then having huge, orange-size uterine fibroids removed along with part of an ovary, I feared that I wouldn’t be able to have children. Ed and I agreed that if it turned out that I was infertile, we would go the adoption route.

When Ed and I started trying to have a baby, it didn’t take long before we found out Lily was on her way. I was unable to have my regular mammograms when I was pregnant and breastfeeding, so we didn’t try to have our second baby until I had that mammogram and everything checked out okay. Emmy was on her way three months after my mammogram. My fears, obviously, never came true.

And so when I saw those sticky hand prints on the wall last week, I was happy to be in my own, toy-strewn, chaotic house with sticky hand prints on the wall. This is the kind of house I’ve always dreamed of having. I resisted cleaning off those sticky little hand prints. A house full of little ones with sticky hands and mouths, runny noses, and giggles is exactly what I want.

Being sentimental about those sticky hand prints didn’t cause me to stop Ed in his tracks, however. Eventually, I would have gotten out the Formula 409 myself. Sticky hand prints on the wall can only be sentimental for a limited time. Plus, I have a rule…never interrupt your husband when he is in cleaning mode, or he might never be moved to clean again!