The Hard Parts

Being a mom is awesome.  There are snuggles, and "I wuv oohs" and kisses and all things that will melt your heart and turn you into a puddle in an instant.  And these two little boys have that power over me like nobody ever has.

I hope he'll always snuggle me like this. 

Driving his truck on mommy's baby bump. 

A normal funny face. 

Wild hair.  Sweet boy.  

More faces. 

Kisses for Daddy.  Over my lap.  Swoon.  

Fun at the Park

But sometimes there are some really hard parts.

Yesterday was a day where I just wanted to grab my boys and climb in their crib with them and hold them forever and ever.

Because I was making them both cry and I couldn't do anything about it and it was
The. Worst. Feeling. Ever.

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Kingston has molluscum.  Its a nasty little skin virus that we are battling on his precious little tummy. It's not a huge deal, and it honestly doesn't seem to bother him at all, which is great.  But it has to go. And right now its kind of gross.  I'll spare you the details, but he needs to keep a bandaid on it right now because it bleeds a bit, and it's ruining some clothes if he doesn't wear a bandaid.  And we can't go shirtless because molluscum is contagious so it needs to be covered so it doesn't spread to other parts of his body or to his brother.

But....  the child HATES bandaids.

I put one on my tummy.  "See how fun?!"

I let him go without a bandaid.  That t-shirt ended up in the trash.

So I had to physically pin him down with my legs over his legs and David holding his hands and stick a bandaid on him.  He screamed and cried through it, though I know it didn't hurt him at all.  "NO MAMA! NO BANDAID! NO MAMA!!"  And I felt like I was torturing him.  He cried and cried and I just felt like a meanie.

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Kyrie has a diaper rash from you know where.  My poor little Kyrie struggles with his adorable little booty in so many ways.  For so long he would struggle to poop and once every three days or so he'd cry through it and it was AWFUL.  So now we've switched him to Almond milk since the 5 gallons of dairy he was consuming daily was most likely the culprit of his pain.  But now he sort of has to re-learn how to poop.  He is still trying to work out his bowels over three days which means he has mini poops throughout each and every day.  Which means he gets diaper changes a billion times a day and gets his bottom wiped a billion times a day.

Enter horrendous diaper rash.

So now, not only do I have to change him a million times a day, but he screams and cries through it every time.  This also included pinning down of limbs and choice words from my child.  I basically feel like he's swearing at me in his own two year old way.   "NO MOMMY!  MAMA NAUGHTY! MAMA BE BAD!  STOP IT MAMA!  QUIT IT!!!  ALL DONE!  DIAPER ON!!  STOP IT!! And today he cried and cried for his daddy (who was at work) while I changed him.  Which of course broke my heart.  I wanted to tell him Daddy would be doing this too if he was home!  He can't save you!!

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So back to back I upset my children and made them cry and I had no choice but to do so.

And afterwards I held them and apologized  and kissed their faces and tried to explain why I had to do it.  But they're 2.  So really, how much can you explain?  I just felt so mean.  So, so mean.  And it hurt my heart.

I know this is just one small example of the ways I will break my children's hearts and break my own in the process.  And for something that I felt was in their best interest.

The redeeming part is how forgiving my babies are.  They still snuggled me goodnight and called for me when they woke up.  And today when I changed Kyrie 14 thousand more times, he still pulled my hand and said, "pay me mama" ("Play with me, mama").

Parenting has some really hard parts.  And I know its only the tip of the iceberg.  But still so worth it, friends.  So, so worth it.

Dear Dad,

Dear Dad,

It's been eight years.  Eight years since I've heard your laugh.  Seen your strut down the dock.  Listened to your crazy stories.  Or felt your hugs.

So much has changed since then.  You've gained a son in law you've never met,  and daughter in law you already knew and loved.  And you're a grandpa now.  You're the Grandpa Sluiter.  The Papa Steve.  It's a coveted title.    Makes me hurt just thinking about how you never got to meet and hold your grand-babies.  You have five of them.  And an amazing two more miracles on the way.  It's incredible how our family has changed in so many fantastic ways.  And incredible how hard it is to not have you share it with all of us.

My Kyrie has many of your characteristics.  He loves to be silly and make people laugh.  He is such a sweet, goofy little guy.  He pulls the funniest faces like you did.  He jokes all the time.  And he has tight curls just like you did.  And my Kingston is like you too, but in different ways.  He is a teaser.  He lives to tease his brother.  Drives him crazy all the time. Just for fun.  You did that too.  Loved to tease.  And he tinkers like you.  He can sit and just play by himself and try to figure out how things work.  He takes things apart and puts them back together.  You would love them so much, dad.  You would just love every inch of who they are, like I do.  You would love to chase them and tickle them. You would love to hear their belly laughs.  I can picture it.

I just wish so much that I had the memories to go along with those mental pictures.  I wish so much that they knew you.  And knew what it was like to be loved by you.

And I'm having another boy.  He is due in November.  Another Sluiter boy is just what this world needs, right?  If you could put your hand on my stomach, you could feel him kick.  He's such a mover. It's amazing.  I talked to Gram about the day you were born.  She said it was wonderful because you were her first baby that she got to leave the hospital with on time.  Your siblings were all premies and had to stay.  If you were here I'd ask you to give Dave a pep talk about delivery.  I tease him all the time that he might pass out.  Mostly because deep down inside I think he might.  And I'm pretty sure you would tease him about that during your pep talk.  But he could take it.

I still have the urge to call you and tell you things.  Like when we got our referral for the boys.  Or when we found out I was pregnant.  Or that we were having another boy.  I always feel like there is somebody I am forgetting to tell.  I miss you all the time.  I hurt knowing that my stories and memories are all my boys will have of you.  But I promise to keep telling them.

I love you dad.  I miss you as much today as the day I had to say goodbye to you eight years ago.  I still catch glimpses of you here and there.  I get a feeling or a memory.  Or sometimes a dream where we are together.  And it fills me up.  It gives me a peace in knowing how lucky I was to have you as my dad.  And how lucky my boys are to have you as their grandpa.  Even if it's just in pictures, and stories, and memories.

I love you more,