Do you remember the plant my husband fell in love with a few weeks ago? The one I thought was a jasmine bush, perhaps? It’s not.

I was browsing through the BX garden center today shopping for a clematis when I spotted a very small plant that had flowers exactly like the big twiggy plant I had at home. The plant Chris bought didn’t come with any instructions so I really had no idea if I should put in it sun or shade or if it had any weird preferences. I was itching to get my hands on an identification tag, so imagine my delight at spotting the plant again. I grabbed the tag, flipped it over, and lo and behold. . .

It’s a grapefruit tree! I busted up laughing right in the middle of the garden center. My husband was enchanted by the lovely blooms of a grapefruit tree. It does explain why it smelled so good. It also explained why the darn flowers kept falling off; I was getting really skeeved about that. Well, when you are growing fruit, that’s a good thing. This whole time we figured it was a shrub or a vine of some sort. The word TREE hadn’t crossed my mind.

At any rate, the tree went back to the store. I didn’t think it was going to be happier much longer in a pot. We live on an Air Force base, and they have crazy rules about what you can and can’t plant and you can’t plant trees without special permission. (Not that we have enough yard to plant one in to begin with.)

My poor husband. I could tell he was bummed. He really liked the grapefruit tree. We did about ten laps around the garden center hoping something would strike his fancy (and like being in the shade). I finally talked him into a blue hydrangea. I know he will like it when it blooms. How can you not like a hydrangea?

I just spent the past two hours putting together a yummy chicken soup. It smelled really good. All the vegetables were just right, so I added the noodles. Ten minutes later all of the juice has boiled out of the soup and it's all burnt and nasty and sticking to the bottom of the pan. So, basically eight dollars down the drain. I swear I'm going to just start eating out. This is depressing.

I have had a few very blah days. I’m extra tired and extra short tempered. Jonas has been my personal tornado, ripping up the house and making a lot of noise. He is such a boy. In many ways I have given birth to my little brother. He pokes and climbs all over me. He blows raspberries in my face and licks my arm just to be weird. I didn’t like it when I was growing up and it isn’t all that exciting now either.

In many ways I feel very trapped by Jonas right now. He is so boisterous that he is hard to take places. His fits are long and loud. He can also just about outrun me, so he is very good at getting away from me.

About a week ago I took the kids to Barnes & Noble. Jonas was standing two feet from me when he looked at me, said “be right back,” and took off down the stacks. I had Maggie in the baby carrier so I couldn’t move as fast as I usually do. I thought he went back to the DVDs ( he had just finished throwing a fit over an insanely overpriced Mickey Mouse DVD, so it was a good guess), but he wasn’t there. A salesgirl asked me if I was looking for anything in particular and I said, “Yes, a little boy with a green shirt and khaki shorts.” So she helped me search from him.

I tried very hard not to worry. After about two minutes and a full lap around the store they did a Code Adam and all of the employees dropped what they were doing and looked for him. It took five minutes, my panic level rising every second he was missing, before an employee found him in the women’s restroom.

As soon as they got him back to me another lady, sixty-ish, greying hair, purple tweed jacket, came out of the bathroom and chewed me out because Jonas had been peeking under the stalls. I apologized for him and she just went on and on. I finally said, “He’s two, ma’am.” After a few more remarks about me watching my child, ( I was watching him! I watched him run away while I was too slow to catch him!) Then departed. Many other mother’s saw this exchange and said things to the effect of “ignore her, she’s crazy,” But it still stung.

On the up side, if he was busy peeking under stalls (probably looking for me) he wasn’t being abused by some creepy person.

Anyway, I now hesitate to take him anywhere. It is driving him and me crazy.

Each of my children have a special lullaby that I sing to them. I didn’t really plan what their songs would be, they just came about naturally. Jonas’ song that I sing him is “Baby, Now That I’ve Found You”. It isn’t really a lullaby, or even a song for an infant, but the lyrics fit so well, “Baby, now that I’ve found you, I’ll build my world around you, I need you so. . .Baby, baby, when first we met, I knew in this heart of mine, you were someone I couldn’t forget.” There is nothing like your first child, when you are so newly thrust into motherhood, to change you, to make you completely revamp your life and re-prioritize. With Jonas, my life went in an instant from being all about me to being all about him. And I mean that in the best sense. Motherhood didn’t cause a loss of self- just a discovery of a new, better self, like suddenly reaching Nirvana. Everything that mattered became clear. I build my world around my family because I really don’t think it gets any better than this.

Maggie’s song is “Baby, Let Me Take You Dreaming,” from the old musical The Court Jester. (If you haven’t seen this movie, well, that’s a shame. It is completely hilarious and wonderful in every way. Go watch it. Seriously, stop reading this entry and go watch it right now. Come back later.) This song is an actual lullaby, sung to the infant king. It is very beautiful and soothing, (In the movie Danny Kaye sings it.) Some of the lyrics go as follows, “and someday, when you go dreaming, when you’re very old, when your crown is rich with rubies, diamonds laid in gold, none will shine as bright, as the stars we find, tonight.” The song focuses so much on how this particular moment, through the rain watching the stars, is so perfect and wonderful. That is how I feel with Maggie. I am not in a hurry for her to grow up. With Jonas I was so achievement oriented, when will he sit up, when will he run, etc. With Maggie, I just cherish every moment. I know this is where I want to be. This is the sweetest part of life. I don’t want her to rush to get big. I want her as she is now; I know it will slip away much too quickly.

Jonas has his Daddy's eyelashes. They are unreal. Chris' are even thicker.



Maggie's are coming in nicely too. I am hoping Chris' genes win over mine here. Nothing is wrong with my eyelashes, per se, but when you could have lashes like Daddy's. . .why not?

When my mother met Chris for the first time she took one look at him and said, "My grandbabies are going to have those eyelashes!"

So there you go, reason #236 why I married him. So my babies would have those eyelashes!

I caught Jonas’ bug.

This is the most violent stomach flu I have had in years. Chris was very lucky and his commanding officer gave him the night off of work so he could stay home and take care of the kids. I was truly in no condition to be chasing children. I have been pretty much glued to the porcelain throne for the better part of the past twenty-four hours. I was too sick to read or watch a movie or think and too busy throwing up to sleep. Chris brought me Gatorade and I seriously considered just dumping it straight down the potty because, one way or another, it was going to be there in a matter of minutes anyway. I now understand why Jonas kept laying down on the floor and refusing to get up when I offered him a cozy place in bed or on the couch. That would have required movement, and that was, quite frankly, too much to ask.

About sixteen hours into the ordeal I had stopped throwing up and felt that I should try to get something in me. Chris was all the way downstairs, so I summoned what little strength I had and cried out, "Chris!"

"Yeah?"

"Jellllllllllo!"

So he brought me some Jello. I thanked him and then said, "I never thought I'd be desperately crying out for Jello."

"Well, I'm just glad you cried it to me, honey."

See, folks. That's love. It's not about flowers or candle lit dinners. It's about who's gonna bring you Jello when you are puking and you smell nasty. It's about seeing the other person looking absolutely disgusting and caring. Until you are holding your wife's hair back when she pukes, you haven't truly demonstrated your undying devotion. (Coincidently, I prefer to puke alone, and Chris knows that, so after the first few times of holding my hair back he now just waits outside the door with a drink to offer me when I am finished retching. I love this man.)

The good thing about this bug is that it is short. A mere twenty-four hours later I am mostly ok. My stomach is still twisting itself into knots and I feel better laying down, but all in all, it is a dramatic improvement. Maggie is still healthy; for that I am grateful.

Me: Did you pour the juice on the floor?
Jonas: NO.
Me: You didn't make the puddle over there?
Jonas: No.
Me: Did you dump the juice out of your sippy cup onto the floor over there?
Jonas: No.
Me: Are you lying to me?
Jonas: Yes.
Me: Well, go clean up the juice!