The Dada Network

My Little Levi Turns 4.
Dear my sweet angel child,

You are my miracle child. I had very unpleasant pregnancy with you, cause I gained so much weight. I was your average size jumbo beach ball. I don't think the doctor diagnosed me with gestational diabetes, cause I gained so much weight in my last week, a whopping 14 pounds. I could hardly feel your riverdance routine that week on my bladder that you normally did. So the doctor decided to wheel me in and induce me. Out you came with a blood sugar level of 30. You were almost 10 pounds and what the doctor said he could salvage was 4 quarts of amniotic fluid. Okay so I had almost equivalent to 2 10 lbs babies in me, and my stomach still wears your presence. But that is the price we pay by having our beautiful babies. Then my horror week in the NICU. I don't want to get into that. Very sad....and you still have scars from all the pricks they did on you. One thing I noticed about you right when you were born, were those adorable eye lashes. They are so long and flutter like a butterfly. I remember nursing you for a straight two years, and how much I miss doing that. What a bond you and I had, and still have from that. You are my quizzical child. When the second one comes along, you marvel in your child, and it is so much easier. I remember the day you cleaned me out of all my spices, cayenne, paprika, cinnamon, and my basil leaves were a mountain in the office. It took me about 3 hours to clean it up and I noticed the vitamin e pills you popped on top of them. Oh what a mess. Always a quizzical about things, and so eager to learn and you follow directions so well. But I asked God for self assertive kids and I definitely got that. You are my mellow child, my hippie child. I am amazed at the vocabulary that comes out of your mouth. I appreciate how you tell me how I do things "Inappropriately" and that you like your "Privacy" when I enter the bathroom. Oh you have an arm on you though so I fully expect you to win that baseball scholarship and send checks home. I adore how you wake me up in the morning, with the little kisses that you give me up my arm, followed by, "its time to get up mommy." I could not ask for a better way to wake up. I am not to found of the fact you are a streaker. I don't like that......you running around the house with your privates hanging all over the place. At least I can say you don't do it in public...praise God for that....I think that insures me you will not end up in Old School 8...or something like that. You are an adorable little child and so into planes...especially the old ones. I love your fly boy haircuts, and your blonde beautiful hair. Please don't ever change.

The Stingrays had their season end party before our last game on Saturday. My little peanut got his trophy. We have met some good freinds and I hope that we can stay in touch.

My Dad is telling stories about the 80's, I bet.

Chepe was staring at a game for like a full minute. I wish I had had my wide angle on my. It is always so cute to see and watch children stare in amazement at something that interests them. Then to get the picture of them caught off-guard. Chepe looks like he came out of a 1930's movie taking place in the Bronxs. Can you just see him in his argyle socks and tweed cap, white shirt and suspenders?

Ian wanting something.

It was so cute to see Levi drink from the water fountain. I had to take a series of it.

Competing at the fountain.

Wanting something again.

Beautiful blue eyes.

Wanting something again.

Maddie wanting something.

She is a mini me of her dad.

Grandpa.

I am so proud of my little boy.

I have had this robe since 96. Amazing..huh. I just finishd up Andrea's maternities, but I think the robe looks so much better on her. I gained 80 lbs with Ian and I believe I was only 6.5 months along my picture. And we all know how you sproat in your last three months. Yes...yes...looks so much better on Andrea.

Heather Banks of Eclectic Images Photography took this picture of me, and it is one of my prized possessions.

Such a beautiful gypsy woman. Yes, my mother's shaw. Now that is about 45 years old. I love using things that have history, especially when it is my mothers.

My boys are growing up. It is hard to believe that my first born son is now 7. Wow. Amazing...

Dear my beautiful son Ian,

I remember the little toes, bringing you home from the hospital and flipping out when your temperature was 94.9. I remember calling the hospital, and asking for advise. I remember how pissed off I was at the hospital for thinking I was crazy for calling them. And I remember the first time I used the nasal aspirator and blowing the air up your nose instead of out. I also called the hospital for that too, I think. I remember the bumper pad that I made was not such a good ideal after all, because I found you tangled in it one morning. I remember the many days of my walking around with out a top on, because every time I nursed you, your acid reflux was so bad, I decided that you too shall be walked around in your underwear with me. ...check diaper. And yes I did have Depends, but that was to keep the spit up off the ground and well everything around you. They weren't placed on my buttock just yet. Oh I cant wait for the day you have to do that to me. I remember the day I had to stop nursing you, cause I did not have enough milk for you. I sat in the doctors room and postpartum SLAPPED me in the face. I came out of there crying so insanely that Dr. Solomon was cracking up. Then he told me to go home and have some matzo for my plumbing issues. I remember your baby acne, the special baby detergent, and thank God for disposable diapers. I do not know how people survived on cloth diaper services. I remember the how you fell asleep in the jumparoo with your spider hat on. Oh gosh you loved the jumparoo. I remember crying out moms name when ever I had issues, and that seemed like ALOT. I told myself that I was never going to be like my parents.....oh my gosh...that is literally the dumbest thing anyone could say. Remember, its inevitable. Your going to be like us...so get used to the ideal cause honey it will happen. And yes baby you will end up sounding like me when you have your own children. Mommy was always mean...snicker. I remember the first time you climbed the very steep stairs at our old house in Pflugerville and the day your daddy had to install the gates. Then I remember the days where I started getting a little bitchy. That hits when you have to start cleaning up, and wishing you could go back to being an infant. But wait when you were an infant, we said ...when is going to learn how to crawl. Being your mother is like its own oxymoron. Things change...but that women honey. Just remember two words in life when you find your own wife...."yes and dear". Those are a must and when you lots of brownie points as Grandpa Marty says. We are not that crazy, but if you must know a good book to read that would be John Gottmans book on The Seven Principles of Making Marriage Work. And say lets agree to disagree. That works a lot.

I remember the few nights your daddy would take me out and of course I was a really cheap date then. But every time we would come home I just had to hold you and listen to Giacomo Puccini - O mio babbino caro over and over again. Your daddy said let him sleep, but I could not stand being so far away for you for so long....plus that and the liquor always got me sentimental. I remember the day you grew a mouth. Oh forgive me for being so hard on you now, but I am just now learning to pick my battles with you. I want you to love life, and people, and be courteous too. I remember two years ago you said I had too much grey, and how sometime I give you headache when I talk to you. I found your belly button a couple weeks ago from when it fell off and wondered why I saved that. But I kept it anyways. I remember when you started to climb, and yes you have your daddies legs.

Now at the age of 7 your growing manly hair on those legs and yes you have lip hair now. And I love your beautiful lips. I am sad you don't like giving my kisses anymore, because your just not into that "anymore". Your feet still smell sweet when you are all sweaty, and I don't look forward to the day I will pick up your dirty socks with rubber gloves. You have manly arm muscles and a genius mind. I love how your into the Titanic like I was when I was a kid. Your a brave little child and you and your brother are my best accomplishments. I love you more and look forward to learning how much you grow in the years to come.

Your mother!