three, Three, THREE posts in one

Did I convey that commercial voice-over well enough in my crescendo-ing title there? Yeah, probably not, but you can't fault a girl for trying.

Anywho... being the mom of three kids, I am pretty much hyper aware of the level of attention that is divided among the offspring. For a while there, it was undoubtedly tipped in favor of the youngest, what with his inability to move his body of his own accord and 100% dependence on my boobs for his nourishment. Well, those days are gone as he runs around like a holy terror and instead wants to eat crackers nonstop all day long. After school, JAM needs a little bit of time focused just on him as he does his homework, but that is significantly less than it used to be, as the dude is really organized and independent with that daily chore for the most part. So, in our day to day life, the interactions are split pretty evenly, I do believe.

But, then there's blog world. Looking at the tags for my posts, I can't help but blanch at the numbers-- Red is coming in at a whopping 66 posts, JAM is trailing a little behind her at 59, and poor little Pudge barely registers on the screen with a measly 44. In thinking about these unfair numbers that hopefully will never come back to haunt me (think an 18 year old Pudge yelling- "You never blogged about me the way you did the others!"), I've come up with a few possible excuses explanations.

1. I started seriously blogging about 8 months before Pudge was born. That alone could cover the spread, right?
2. I've been that horribly labeled stay-at-home-mom with Red and Pudge for almost two years now (whoa!), and in that time, JAM has always been at school on the weekdays. (Yeah, he's that kid with perfect attendance. That kid never gets sick, I learned as a teacher!) So, that helps to account for why JAM's numbers are lower. And...
3. While I've been at home with Red and Pudge, Red has been the one in the toddler stage-- the growing habit of saying funny things, the trials and tribulations of learning to control one's bladder, the star of the show in toddler world. Pudge is coming into his own these days, so I'm hoping to see his appearances here become more frequent.

All that being said, today's post is about equality, so everyone gets a moment in the spotlight. Shall we?

Let's give it up for JAM in "the world of KIDZ":
The kid who garnered that incredibly-sought-after all A's report card last semester, is definitely entering a new phase. Yeah, the grown-up teeth are gigantic compared to the rest of his face, and oh yes, he's growing (only taller, not wider-- the kid has a teeny tiny waist-- he'd be great on a runway). But the thing that definitively marks his move into the preadolescent world this week... he has discovered teeny-bop pop music, thanks to the KIDZ ONLY! music channel on our cable system. Which he has requested to have on during dinner every night this week. That's a whole lot of 'musical' dinner accompaniment that has me feeling officially old. Why old, you ask? Old because I actually found myself thinking these exact thoughts: This doesn't even sound like music. This is just noise. Annoying, annoying noise. Sound familiar? Of course it does, because it's what OUR parents said to us all those years ago when we played our generation's music. Damn, I'm getting old and so is my kid.

Now, here she is, Red in "feelings, nothing more than feelings":
Red is entering her own stage, as well. It's called the I-can-go-from-utter-joy-to-rampant-despair-in-a-heartbeat stage, which just happens to overlap with the I-can't-quite-find-the-right-words-yet-to-express-what's-going-on-in-my-head-so-I'll-just-scream stage that we haven't found ourselves completely out of yet. Fun fun fun. The solution? Who the heck knows. But, it at least seems like a nice panacea to haul out all the 'feelings' books I accumulated back when JAM lived in this stage (somedays it seems like he hasn't completely moved out of it either, but that's a whole other story). We now have a book basket in the living room that is home to When I Feel Angry, The Way I Feel, Sometimes I'm Bombaloo, and When Sophie Gets Angry-- Really, Really Angry among others. So name a feeling, and I'm sure I could pull out a verse about it-- we got the feelings genre covered.

And last, but certainly not least, comes Pudge in "repetition, repetition, repetition"
Speaking of ups and downs, that is exactly what Pudge has been speaking about lately. Step up the tiny, nonsensical step from the living room to the dining room and say, "UP!" (Or technically, it's more like "BUP!"), then step back down and shout, "DOWN!" Then repeat 4,298 times in rapid succession, and look to your loving family members for encouragement and applause each and every time. That's my little boy. Bup and down, over and over. When he's not showing off his skillz in the opposites department, he's singing "Ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes, ashes" somewhat musically recognizably (again, there's no ending point, AND lovely hubby insists that I should make this reference to 'Ring Around the Rosie' VERY clear hence anyone thinks that our baby walks around cleaning up ashtrays or something equally disgusting or inappropriate), or he's grabbing whatever toy/book/coaster/shoe/piece of furniture is nearby and bopping his sister in the head with it. Those could officially be listed as his hobbies, if he were filling out some sort of baby-match.com profile. That and drooling.

There you have it, equal coverage (I didn't do a word count, so we're just going to call it equal) for my three dearies. My heart is so darn big holding all the love in for them, that's why I have to wear such a big size. (Apparently my heart is housed in my midsection. Go figure.)

Lovingly yours,