Logan Bridge

So clearly I've been having a tough time lately.  But I figured I better get on here before people started thinking suicide watch or sending DSS to the house to check on me and the kids.

We're fine.  I'm fine.  Just chalk it up to another rough patch as a Mom, I guess.  My husband has had a front row seat to me loosing my mind lately at home with the kids and I don't think it helped when he tried to reach out to me the other night and said, "So, Moll -- you doing ok?  You feeling a little bit better after a tough run of it?" to which I replied, "Well, at least I haven't jumped off the Logan Bridge yet!"

He kind of looked at me with that "awe, the poor thing, she's not out of the water yet" look, -- not because I made a joke about jumping off a bridge -- but because I meant to say Tobin Bridge.  Instead, I think my mind is so jumbled up with kid gunk I actually combined Tobin Bridge, with Logan Airport, and maybe even a little London Bridge mixed in there.  I don't know.  But thankfully, we both laughed at how messed up I've been feeling and for the most part, things have pretty much gone back to our normal insanely busy lifestyles without me on the verge of a nervous breakdown all the time.   Oh, but just wait.  It'll happen again in due time, just ask my husband, because he has season tickets.

So, now that I temporarily have my sanity back, I can actually celebrate the fact that my darling son turned one this past weekend.  As difficult as it is to raise kids, there are some pretty awesome moments you just can't deny (when you aren't too exhausted or worn out to notice them).  Like my son eating his first cupcake:

This freakin kid is awesome.  So so so different from my daughter.  Likes to get dirty, likes to bang things together, smash things, and pretty much likes hearing the sound of his own voice -- but as loud as he can possibly muster.  He's pretty much the loudest person I know.  Not super interested in saying mama or dada (although he does both) but he'd rather just make a noise like a lion and say, "roar".  He says, "roar" to pretty much anyone who will engage him in such animal behavior.  And he loves it.  Smiliest little lion you'll ever meet.  Love him.  Seriously, I do.  Still not cool with him pinching the skin on my neck -- really, really do not like that at all.  But other than that.  He's a cool guy.

My littlest has turned one.  Good job, buddy.  You got longer, wider, grew some hair, learned to sit up, move around a bit, and have a few teeth.  All very large accomplishments when you've just arrived on the planet.  And me?  I have successfully made it through another pregnancy, another newborn, and now another one year old.  Well jeez, when you put it that way, maybe there are some rainbows occasionally shooting out of my ass...who knew?

But you know, if you don't look at cute cupcake eating pictures in between the neck pinching, screaming, and diaper changing they potentially could start to lose their cuteness.  Come to think of it, this might be why little kid birthday's exist in the first place (because let's be honest -- they have no freakin idea at this age what is going on on their birthday) -- we throw a birthday party, unknowingly take a ton of super cute pictures of our kids, which end up reminding us that they really are adorable and we wouldn't trade 'em for the world.  Until they wake up crying the next morning and the thought briefly crosses your mind that you might be a better parent if you'd gone the route of the Sally Struthers Children's Fund -- getting a letter with an attached photo of your kid every year rather than actually taking care of it every day.

But still.  Looking back at my son's first year there is a laundry list (no pun intended) of things I absolutely love about this kid and if they were ever to be taken away from me, I would be utterly and totally devastated.  Here's a few of them:

1.  He's Irish, has red hair, and is from Southie.

2.  He kinda already looks like a scalper.  

Because of this, I respect his grittiness, his street smarts, and his overall general ballsy attitude.

3.  I love his relationship with our bulldog, Bella.  I know it's because he gives her food.  I don't care.  They are the best of friends and it's adorable.

4.  He loves this little monkey.  When we put him to bed, he gently pats the monkey's head before he goes to sleep every night.  It might just be the sweetest thing....ever.   

Happy Birthday, buddy.  

Since Mommy can't even get the name right of the bridge she threatens to jump off of every now and again, it's likely she wouldn't be able to pull something like that off logistically, anyway.  That said, I think we're in it together for the long haul, my friend.   

And just for the record, when I really ask myself, even on the hardest of the hard days, I wouldn't walk away from any of this.  I wouldn't mind being picked up in a limo and driven away from it to an amazing restaurant overlooking the water with an open-bar from time-to-time.  But entirely walk away from it?

Not a chance.