Happy Birthday, Jackson!

I recall it being an intensely hot summer. Rarely leaving my little apartment, one-year old Kenny and I would stay in, eating popsicles and watching the news. I remember almost every day the news would show a story about the heat, and where to go to find relief. I was one week past due with my second son. Comfort was not easy to find. I was so anxious to have this child. Every night, Kenny and I would take walks around the nearby park. I must have walked 3 miles every night. Nothing helped. I remember even looking up old wives tales on how to induce labor. For future reference, nothing works.

The day before I went into labor, my mom was moving into her new home and needed help. I figured the moving and lifting might get something going. I was scheduled to be medically induced a few days later, so Kenny stayed with his great-grandma so that I could prepare. My brother and I moved our mom's belongings for the entire day. We worked through out the hot summer day. By the end of the day, I was exhausted. My mom was not happy with me for working so much, but I had ignored everything she had said. She made me a bed on her couch and told me she thought it was best that I stay with my family for the night, rather than alone. Normally I never slept well. My huge belly prevented any kind of comfort. But this night, I slept so soundly. I think it was a combination of all the hard work and being back home with my family. I had been living alone for awhile, so having my family there with me made me at ease.

The next morning, I awoke to my mom kissing my forehead. She had done this to wake me up ever since I was a little girl. She caressed my head and told me she was leaving to work. I told her I loved her and she left.

I was sleepy, but had this odd sensation. I felt a crazy urge to use the restroom. I quickly sat up. As I walked to the bathroom, something I've never experience happened: my water broke. I had seen it on movies and had expected a waterfall or something. But it nothing like that. I won't go into detail.

I paniced. "Moooooooom!!!" My mom, who was still outside warming up her car, came running back inside the house. She explained what was going on and helped me to the bathroom. She started a shower for me and called the doctor. The doctor had said to come right away, labor was about to begin.

I wasn't in pain yet, but I remember feeling extremely emotional. I couldn't stop crying. My mom said she needed to check in with her classroom before she could be with me. She woke up my 18 year old brother and told him to take me to the hospital and she would meet us there.

I washed up and got dressed. My brother Josh, who still doesn't remember this because he was half awake, gathered my hospital bags and loaded them in his car. I got in his car and relaxed.

When we made it to the hospital, I still wasn't having any contractions. I remember joking with my brother all the way to the hospital room. I felt fine.

We watched Price is Right until my mom and sister arrived. I was so happy to see them. Things got a little too intense, so my brother stepped out. I was so relieved to have my mom at my left, and my sister had my right, supporting me through the pain.

Labor was quick. 4 hours later, Jackson was born. His name was still not decided on. I was pushing for Aidan, Dad was pushing for Jackson. After seeing him for the first time, Jackson seemed to fit. Dad was a big Johnny Cash fan, and Jackson was the name of a song. James is after my father, and Lee is Dad's middle name.

Jackson was already so much different then his brother, Kenny. Kenny was a big baby, with beautiful milky skin and light brown hair, with big green eyes. Jackson couldn't be more opposite. He was very tanned. I remember him being a very copper color. His hair was like black silk. And his eyes were so dark, there was never a chance of them being any other color. He was very loud, too. He cry could be heard in every room.

He was beautiful. Kenny came with his grandma to meet his new little brother. Not sure of what to think about the new baby, and seeing Mommy with tubes everywhere, Kenny cried and reached for Dad.

Now, four years later, Jackson is still loud. He is the mischief maker of our family. He loves Batman. And cheese pizza. I never lose sight of him, because he is always yelling "raaaawwwrrrr!"

Jackson has grown into such a handsome little boy. With features that resemble me and my father, he looks very Native American. He has the nicest smile, although you may have to tickle him to see it. After all, Batman doesn't smile much! (Jackson is Batman, if you ask him.)

To my Jackson, I love you with all my heart. From the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. You make our family complete. You inspire me to be try new things and to not be afraid to be me. You're an amazing little boy, and you're going to do something great in this world, I just know it.

Recently.

I cannot believe 2010 is already over half way over with. Time is passing so quickly, it's hard to keep up. This year has been a good yet difficult one for us. Starting in December of last year, the boys and I have been entirely and completely on our own. Meaning, for the first time I've been the sole bread-winner. Along the way we've always had help or lived with family or what not.

Learning that I can do this on my own was a challenge. It's easy to rely on help. Why work for anything when everything's handed to you? This isn't life I wanted for us. I found a cute and affordable duplex, with plenty of room for my family. I took my job seriously (this month, I've been there a year now) and saved what I could. I bought our car and we packed up and moved. Even now, eight months later as I look around at our home, outside at out SUV and all of our belongings... it is hard to fathom that I earned these things. I did it. My goal was to be on our own and provide for my family, and I'm doing it. I feel proud. Given, it took a little longer than I wanted, but the point is I set a goal, and we achieved it.

Dominick turned a year old in January. My littlest son isn't so little anymore. He has grown into a strong and curious toddler. He gets into EVERYTHING. And it seems like I am constantly feeding that little boy. I knew that once Dom progressed from the infant stage, things would be more difficult. When he was an infant, it was easy to be mobile and take all of the boys on errands and on outings. Now that all three of the boys are on foot and we go anywhere, I have to pay close attention to each of them. Even just a trip to the grocery store for milk can be difficult. All three of the boys are curious and independent, so containing three very big personalities and needs for exploring into a three foot radius around me is challenging. Since I only have one pair of eyes, I feel way more comfortable with each of the boys holding my hand, purse, or hanging on to the stroller. Even a second with no sight of them scares me.

Here's a look at the list of things I need to bring if we go on a trip to the park, for example:

• Stroller
• 6 diapers
• Wipes
• Changing pad
• 3 pairs of clothes (one for each boys, because accidents DO happen)
• 3 sweaters (just in case!)
• 3 bottles of water
• 3 snacks
• Dom's sippy cup
• Dom's Binky (he won't go anywhere without it)
• Jack's Woobie (his blankey, never leaves his side)
• Various park toys: balls, frisbees, soldiers, etc.
• Sunscreen, sunglasses, hats

Okay, maybe all of these things aren't entirely necessary, but in my experience, it is better to be safe than sorry! Some how I manage to carry all of these things and escort the kids to wherever it is we are going to. Relying on myself is awesome, yet tiring. However, I've recently discovered bi-ceps I never thought I had!

Also new in this year, Kenny started kindergarten last week. His first day of school was a hard one for me. I took the day off from work to be able to be there with him. I work at 5am, so unless I had taken it off, I would have missed it. I wasn't going to miss that for all of the world. His dad, Jackson and I escorted him to his classroom. On the way there, parents and students both filled the sidewalks and hallways of the open-campus styled school. There were so many people wandering about, I was worried that it would overwhelm my 5 year old. Kenny had never been to any type of daycare or school. This season of tee ball was the only social experience he had. He had always been home with me, or cared for by family while his dad and I worked.

But no, not Kenny. He marched on, clinging to his Spider-Man backpack and matching lunch pail. He paused briefly to double-check to make sure his pencils, paper and hand sanitizer was still there. "Yep, I got it," he nodded, and moved forward. We approached his classroom... well, a portable. "F-29!" he shouted, remembering the class number. We walked into a typical kindergarten classroom: tiny chairs, short tables, books, colors, numbers, letters, and a sweet teacher dressed in a Moo-Moo. Ms. Jones greeted Kenny with a smile, and shook his hand. When she called him 'Kenneth,' my son corrected her and told her he preferred to be called 'Kenny.' I envy his boldness sometimes. Other times it makes me cringe, like when he tells me how long my nose hairs are.

His dad kissed him on the head, and said goodbye, leaving to go to work. I was too reluctant to leave so swiftly. Jackson and I stayed behind and helped Kenny find his cubby and his seat. We helped him make a lunch choice: cheeseburger, naturally. As the minutes passed, more and more children and parents filled the classroom. Jack and I stayed by Kenny's side. I looked around to see if there were any other young parents to relate with. They all seemed to be thirty-something. Cameras were flickering. Parents clinging. And the new students scoped the classroom and each other. Kenny made a few attempts to say hello and introduce himself, but the kids seemed occupied with their parents. I stayed close to him, my hand was always on him: stroking his hair, laying down a misplaced cow lick, fixing his collar, tying his shoe, wiping dried toothpaste from his cheek. I noticed I was looking for excused to touch him.

Kenny finally looked up at me, his big green eyes obviously annoyed. "Mom..." he said quietly. "Sorry." I responded.

Meanwhile, Jack let out a sigh has he held my hand. "I'm bored, Mommy."

"We're leaving soon."

Ms. Jones asked all the students to join her on the story time rug. Kenny rushed over to be first, of course. She then had them do a special Bye Mom & Dad wave, a polite way of saying "please leave so I can do my job." Kenny looked back at me, blew me a kiss and waived. I smiled and waived back. I told him I would be there as soon as he got out. He nodded and smiled. I took a deep breath, clinging to Jack's hand and walked out.

As Jack and I walked to our car, I had the strangest feeling in my chest. You know that feeling when you're leaving your house or job, and you know you've forgotten something and something's pulling to back to go find it? That was the feeling. I felt like I was leaving a limb behind. I looked down at Jack's little face. "I miss Kenny," he said quietly. I picked him up and we hugged for a moment. I let out a few tears but quickly dried up. The boys don't like to see Mommy crying.

Kenny's almost into his third week now. He's doing just fine. He actually really likes school. All that worrying for nothing. Watching the boys grow is fascinating. For some reason, it's also heart wrenching. I guess I want them to stay small forever. To always need me and rely on me. To some degree, that may not change. But already they make me so proud. They're all three stronger, more independent and smarter than I ever was.

Coming up next this month is Jackson's 4th birthday. I can't believe he's already 4. And I can't wait for his party. My mom is helping so much, so planning it should be a breeze. This year the theme is Ninja Turtles, his current favorite.

My children are growing at an incredible rate. As they learn new skills and new found independence, I learn to let go a little bit. They are eager to get out there in the world and make their mark. I am resistant. But we have to do this together. They takes tiny steps forward, I take one back.

Hi, I'm Mommy... I mean, Ashley.

"Will you hand Mommy that paper, please?"

What's wrong with this sentence? Well, nothing, if I'm speaking to my children. Only when I say this aloud, I was at work asking a coworker to kindly hand me a piece of paper. The coworker, with an odd expression, asked no questions and gave me the sheet I needed. "Me, I meant..." I said, trying to correct, but the damage had been done.

I've been a mother since I was seventeen. My son Kenneth was born three days before my eighteenth birthday. A year later, Jackson followed. And 2 years after Jack, Dominick completed our family. Since then, I've always referred to myself in third person. But not in a pompous manner. More of a "Mommy said no" or "Hold Mommy's hand, please" sort of way.

Which leads me to my point. I know I'm a mother, and have been for 5 years now. But finding myself, not the mother, but the me on the inside has been a difficult task. I don't even know if there is such a thing as existing beyond motherhood. But I've come to the conclusion that my children will not always be children. And when they one day grow into adults and journey on their own, what will be left of me?

The boys and I have been growing together this year, it seems. Being a young mother with young children, it seems only natural that we're blossoming at the same time. However, this was not my intent of an ideal family. I can't say that I've ever dreamed of having a family of my own. The idea of being responsible for the upbringing and outcome of an adult frightened me terribly. My dreams were mainly selfish ones: be rich & travel. But I've always carried the idea of a 'real' family with me. I was raised by a single mother, so I didn't want to carry on that all too traditional trend in my family. I wanted to break the cycle and marry Prince Charming, live in a cottage and have perfect little children.

Wake up, princess! I've learned that whether I like it or not, life happens. And you either get with it or get lost. Preparing, planning, organizing and learning can take you further than anything will. Obviously, planning and preparing were not verbs I practiced frequently in earlier years. But we're here now, the four of us. Yeah, I'm a single mom. Yeah, we live in a crazy neighborhood. Yeah, but job's tough and I lack lots of sleep. We don't have nice fancy things, and even cable television is a luxury at this point. But this is OUR life. We're going to love it and live it, and make the best out of every minute of it.