I hear whimpering from Princess's room. My adorable girl is sitting up in bed with rose-pink cheeks and wet, curly hair. Her nap is over and her afternoon is beginning. She holds our her sun-browned arms and asks: "Mommy hold thee?" (because of quaker heritage we use "thee and thy" in my family)
This is one of my favorite times of day. She's cuddly and warm. She's affectionate. She's a little out of it. Her skin smells of sun, sweet baby sweat, and sunscreen from our earlier backyard pool adventure. She snuggles into my shoulder and hums herself a song. I stroke her back and sway back and forth. We have a sweet moment, just us two, before Pumpkin wakes up. It's times like these that make mothering all worthwhile. I feel very at peace with the universe.

I used to use a baby monitor even though our last house was significantly smaller than this one. It just made me feel better to hear every snort, squeak, and whimper that the babies would make. When we moved here I decided not to use one on the advice of a baby sleep book. They claimed that monitors make moms a little nervous and crazy, as they often run into the baby's room to put him back to sleep when he's perfectly able to get himself back down. Also, Princess wasn't exactly a baby anymore.

So, when she's down for a nap I listen. Sometimes halfheartedly, sometimes intently. Sometimes I don't hear her right away, but guess what...she's still alive! It took me a few months to curb the nervous tendency to ask "Is that the baby? Did someone hear Princess? Is she crying?" and to stop checking outside her door every 15 minutes. Now I've even been known to finish the chapter of the book I'm reading before I go in and get her. That's progress, I guess.

But I have the feeling that this moment is fleeting. I'm close to the End Of Naptimes. What a great ride it's been.

Why do I feel guilty this week?

A lot of my life is ruled by guilt.
Should I buy that new skirt I've had my eye on? No, we need the money elsewhere.
Should I feed the kids PBJs for dinner after a long and exhausting day? No, they need better nutrition than that...even if the jelly is homemade.
Should I tell D "I'm too tired" again? No, a hardworking husband deserves to have his needs met, too.

So here's the latest thing I'm feeling guilty about: I'm content with where our lives are right now.

Let me explain. About 2 years ago my OB/Gyn unexpectedly died. He contracted Lou Gehrig's disease and was gone within a matter of months. I didn't know this until I called to schedule my yearly check-up. "Sorry, ma'am, he died a few months ago. Would you like to schedule with one of our other severely overworked doctors who have taken all his patients?" I said no and hung up. This wonderful doctor got me through two pregnancies and always had a smile on his face. Even though he didn't actually deliver either kid, I really liked him.

So now I had to find a new doctor. I haven't done it yet. It's been 2.5 years since I've been on birth control and I've rather enjoyed the freedom from chemicals. I don't like the way they make me feel or the weight they make me gain or the clenched-gut feeling of the thought of missing a dose. For some people it might not be a big deal to miss a dose. For us, it means progeny.

D, of course, is not thrilled that I'm off birth control. He doesn't like the alternate methods (surprise, surprise), but doesn't want to get pregnant right now. He really wants me to find another doctor and get back on it.

Here's where the guilt comes in. I'm happy with two kids. I like having one in each hand. I like having one in each room. I like having a smaller car that fits our whole family.

I hate being pregnant. I hate taking care of a baby. I hate the screaming and the constant moist-ness. For me the cuteness of the baby doesn't make up for the hassle. (That sounds awful) I was never the girl who wanted to hold the babies or planned how many kids they'd have. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids. They're the best kids in the world. But I like them so much more as KIDS than I did as BABIES.

D, on the other hand, told me yesterday that he wants more kids. At least one more. He thinks our kids will be too lonely with only one sibling. He's the one pushing for another child, while I'm the one thinking we're done. Isn't this backward? Aren't I the one who's supposed to be desperate for a baby? How very unfeminine of me. Aaaaaand there's the guilt.

Being content with two kids seems un-Mormon and un-feminine. Saying I have my hands full with two kids and one sick husband seems like a cop-out. Having a mild panic attack when I think about being pregnant again and trying to juggle another baby doesn't seem right.

I'd be fine having some kind of surgery right now to make having more kids impossible. I just don't think I can talk the husband into it.

We've all seen it before. The kid in front is laughing and having a great time, the kid chasing him looks angry. Well this kid wasn't just angry, he was furious, in a rage even. They were running around the mall play area dodging the little kids and leaping over the playthings. I was about to tell them to slow down before they hit a toddler (MY toddler) when the Angry Boy caught the boy in front. He threw him to the ground and started punching him in the face. They couldn't be more than 10, but this kid was pummeling him like a pissed-off frat boy. I quickly looked around for either kids' mom, but couldn't identify one particular mom from the dozen stunned looks on the moms around me.

It wasn't until the Angry Boy finally stopped punching, then got up and started kicking the "friend" in the back and stomach that I yelled "CUT THAT OUT!!", eliciting startled looks from the other moms and a terrified cessation of hostilities from the Angry Boy. He ran over to his mom, along with the other boy. Maybe they were together, maybe not. The mom looked over at me and said casually "Did you hear that lady? You'd better stop."

Ok, so maybe I grew up in a house with all girls. The little brother who came 8 years later didn't stand a chance of being physically aggressive. Maybe my own sweet tempered little boy hasn't prepared me for the hostile nature of boys. Maybe these boys act this way all the time and maybe I overreacted. Maybe I'm just not used to aggressive boys. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled.

But that boy was getting hurt, even if he tried to laugh it off afterward. That Angry Boy had no call to kick his "friend" after straddling and punching him. And most important to me, my 4 year old was watching the two with an open mouth and a confused look. He's never seen one person intentionally inflict harm on another. He's never seen someone give into their feeling of rage. Sure, he's seen anger in my eyes when he pushes down his sister or if he's pushed my last nerve. But punching and kicking a kid on the ground. He should never have to see that. And if it's up to me, he never will.

So, sorry Complacent Mom. I yelled at your kid and probably embarrassed you and him. But I refuse to be embarrassed. D was with us and said later that he thought I probably shouldn't have yelled, but that he was also disturbed to see the kicking in the back and stomach. I think he was embarrassed that I said something.

Too bad. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

I just used the "starving kids in Africa" argument against 4-year-old Pumpkin. The same one I heard all my life...eat your dinner because there are kids out there who have no dinner to eat.

The little angel is in complaining mode lately. He asks for a specific meal and then if I make it for him he says "Awww, I didn't want it that way, I wanted it this way! I'm not eating it!" Enough to get my blood boiling. It's the same for every meal. Then he's hungry between meals and asks for a snack. Then he complains about the snack.

Finally tonight I sat him down and told him what a lucky kid he was. Some kids' daddies didn't have jobs. They didn't have food to eat or homes to live in. They didn't have toys to play with or TV to watch. He sort of stared at me with a confused look on his face. I think he'd never considered the possibility that everyone in the world doesn't live just like him. It just means I have more work to do.

So, do I take a 4 year old to the homeless shelter to volunteer? Will that scare him too much? He sees me pay tithing at church, but I think that's too abstract. Is there a good video for kids on the starving peoples of the world that doesn't get too graphic? Can I teach him compassion and humility without scaring the jeepers out of him? You don't have to go all the way to Africa to find kids who need help. There are some right in our own country. I just need to know how to find them.

A typical day around our house:

AM
7:10 Princess-the-living-alarm-clock wakes up and demands attention by yelling/crying "Mommy!!!" in her crib.

7:12 Any attempts at snuggling or lying back down are immediately rebuffed. Diapers are changed and she demands "Go out, get bre-fess (breakfast)". In the hallway she shushes me and says "Daddy sleeping, Pumpkin sleeping, shh Mommy!" All in a very loud voice, of course. We peek in on Pumpkin and if he's sleeping we quietly go downstairs. If he's awake, Princess yells "Pumpkin!!!!" which is quietly answered with a sleepy "Hi, Princess..."

7:15 Breakfast, usually oatmeal, cold cereal or toast with jam. I get the kids theirs and run outside to get the paper while mine cooks, gets soggy, or crisps up.

7:45 Feeding frenzy is over. We clean up and head upstairs to wake up daddy.

7:55 After ten minutes of coaxing and back scratching, Daddy informs us that he's going to sleep for another hour and will go to work at 9 today. Much grumbling ensues from Mommy who believes to her core that all things should be equal and if she has to get up before the sun that everyone else should, too.

8:00 Downstairs to the den, for Princess has requested that we "watchee movie!" to which Pumpkin replies "Yeah, Phineas and Ferb!" to which Princess replies "Yeah, Fins and Fub!"

8:05 With the kids happily distracted I do my morning computer-ing. Blogs, emails, news, banking, bills. Plane tickets for our trips this summer, craft ideas for boring and hot afternoons.

8:45 Another bout of trying to wake Daddy. A little less gently this time and usually with better results. His work schedule is flexible, but not that flexible.

9:00 Get dressed and play outside before the heat of the afternoon turns the backyard into a broiler.

10:00 Time for our daily activity. Library, park, drive/play in the canyon, mall, Costco, friend's house, Play group, etc.

11:45-ish Back to the house for lunch. Crying when we didn't get the color plate we wanted, threatening and cajoling from mom to finish food.

12:10 Eventually, the lunch chaos blends into a blissful trance-like state as my two wonderful kids go to sleep. I try to justify cleaning up a room in the house, but usually end up in bed myself for a well-deserved nap.

1:30 If Pumpkin has slept, he's usually still asleep. If he's just played in his room for 1.5 hours he's usually the one to tell me that Princess is awake.

1:40 More snackage and usually another 1/2 hour of TV. Max and Ruby, Curious George, Dragon Tales, something gentle and sweet to wake up with.

2:00 Bored with TV already we usually end up playing with Legos, (Pumpkin and me building ships, Princess sitting in the Lego bin and handing us cool things like seats, people, and shiny pieces for our ships) or playing Candyland or dress-ups or bowling or "guys".

3:00 Our imaginations used up, we head outside for Popsicles and neighborhood friends who are usually out at this time. Waterballoon fights, huge bubbles, bike riding and lemonade stands are the norm.

4:30 Inside to clean up a little before daddy gets home (ha!) and frantically try to think of something for dinner. I really need to get back on that planned menu schedule.

5:15 Dad gets home. Play with dad (or dad goes to sleep) while mom finishes dinner.

5:30 Eat whatever mom made, usually breakfast for dinner, especially during the hot months.

6:00 Play with dad some more and make a huge mess before bed.

6:30 Bath/get Princess ready for bed.

7:00 Princess goes to bed.

7:15 Mommy/Pumpkin time wherein he brings me his workbook and markers and asks "to do homework now." Child after my own heart. We do about 20-30 pages of letter tracing, numbers, mazes, season exploration and time-telling.

8:00 Pumpkin in bed and I'm free!!!!!!!!

8-11 Daddy and Mommy watch TV, run errands, put up cherries, do consulting jobs, clean up house and head to bed.

Phew, another day is done. But the next comes all to early the next morning. And you thought Stay At Home Moms just sat around all day reading books and watching soaps? Ha!

But I wouldn't trade places with you for the world.

So D's surgery went well. It took a little longer than they thought it would, but in the end everything came out ok. Literally. They had originally thought he had 10 gallstones, but when the surgeon finally took it out he found more like 50-60 small stones in there. He said he was surprised that D wasn't in more pain. And he said it was good that we took it out when we did.

The convalescence wasn't easy. When I brought D home on Wednesday he was high on pain meds and said he was feeling great and thought he could go back to work on Thursday. (He later rescinded his offer and has decided to take an extra day on Monday due to the story further down in this post.) He even decided to come to the grocery store with us so we could get him some comfort food and get his prescriptions filled. He used one of those motorized carts to get around, which the kids thought was cool. Those carts are S L O W. I'd turn around and find myself two aisles down when I could have sworn he was right behind me. There was a lot of waiting and catching up. After all the food we were getting was for him, so he had to make the decisions on what kinds to get.

He's done a lot of sleeping and he's finally able to get up and down out of bed/chairs by himself. Somehow we managed to pick up some virus. Abby did a little vomiting (ok, a lot) on Thursday and I was trying to be careful to make sure the rest of us didn't get it. I failed.

Saturday night was miserable. We were all paying homage to the porcelain throne. First me, then D, then Pumpkin, then Princess and me at the same time...it just kept on coming. I was running back and forth between bathrooms, cribs, bedrooms, and the toilet all night. Probably one of the worst nights of my life. Try holding a screaming 2 year old, comforting a crying 4 year old who says "Please, I don't want to throw up again, please, no more!" and managing to aim your own bodily fluids into the toilet all at the same time. All with a husband moaning in the other bathroom because he's close to tearing his stitches with all the retching he's doing. Awful. Then throw some uncontrollable diarrhea into the mix and you'll have our night.

By Sunday morning we were all so weak and miserable that we could hardly get out of bed. My mom came over and played Florence Nightingale. We all fell in love with her.

Most of us are feeling better now. D's still "sick" but we think it's back to the post-op sick instead of violently sick.

So, yes, the surgery was a "success" and we're glad it's over with but D has said, and I agree, we just can't wait for everything to go back to normal.

I thought the "endless whys" weren't supposed to come until at least 3 years old. My Princess has them at pre-2 thanks to her older brother, who is obsessed with candy.

Typical morning, like say this morning, ten minutes ago.

Pumpkin: "Hey mom, can we have some candy?"
Mom: "No, sweetheart."
Pumpkin: "Whyyyyyyy??"
Mom: "Because you just had some not ten minutes ago. We only have one piece a day."
Pumpkin: "Oh...ok. Can I have some tomorrow?"
Mom: "Sure."

enter Princess, stage left, somehow missing her pants

Princess: "Mom, a di di du du have a candy?"
Mom: "No Princess."
Princess: "Whyyyy? Why, mom, whyyyy???
Mom: under breath *crap, where did she learn that?* "Because we just had some"
Princess: "Whyyyyyyy?"
Mom: "Because we just had some"
Princess: "Whyyyyyyyy?"

Can you see a pattern? I think she realizes what "why " means, but she doesn't quite have the wherewithal to understand that my answer completes the question/answer sequence.

Pumpkin has been invited to his first birthday party in about an hour and I still have to run out and grab a present for the 4 year old. I think I'll grab a couple of things for the next birthday party. My mother-in-law suggested keeping a couple of presents, bought on sale, around the house so the invited child can shop in the Mommy Store for their gift. It's a great idea. Now to go implement it.

My mom and I tried to go to the temple last night, we really did. It wasn't until we pulled into the very empty parking lot that we realized that we'd forgotten to check the schedule. Sure enough, it was closed for 2 weeks for "maintenance". Just bad luck, I guess. We sat there chatting for awhile, then decided to head down to Center Street for the Freedom Festival. At least, we hoped there was something going on. We had no idea there was going to be so much to do.

There was a mini-carnival going on. There were rides and games, there were cotton candy booths, funnel cakes and frozen drinks galore. The smell was intoxicating. Standing in one place just wasn't an option. Move a foot to your left and a deep-fried goodness wafted past your nose; a foot to your right and the creators of taquitos and pork fried rice hocked their wares at top volume. It was difficult to walk past any booth without stopping and sampling.

There was also live music. There's just something about sitting in the growing dark and tapping your foot with 50 other people to a local bluegrass quintet. Thank goodness for small towns. I know our town isn't that small, but the atmosphere is one of hometown camaraderie and good time fun. There were also no drunken revelers or crazy people. In fact, you saw more kids under 12 than college-aged flirts yucking it up with their friends. It was a real time for families, and there seems precious little left in this world for families. Especially things to do that are FREE. Sure, the food costs, but what's a few bucks here and there when you're making memories.

So after thoroughly checking things out last night (for about 3 hours), I decided to take Daddy and the kids back over today. We spend another 3, almost 4, hours over there and the kids had an awesome time. We got alcohol-less margarita, funnel cakes, twisted taters and candy. We slathered on the sunscreen and let the kids loose. Well, not exactly loose, we kept them closely teathered to us for fear they'd run off in the crowd, but we took our time and saw everything, even the hot rods.

Daddy's not really into parades or the hot-air balloon races that we're going to see tomorrow, so Gran is going to be his stand-in. Ok, time to get the kiddies to bed, we've got to be up at 6 am tomorrow for the hot-air ballons. Apparently after the sun comes up it makes the balloons sink, so they do it in the EARLY EARLY Morning. Should be great!