A very belated birthday letter to my little man

DSC 1273 1024x678 A very belated birthday letter to my little man

Dear Thomas,

My sweet boy, you are most definitely the fourth child in a very busy family. Gone are the days when I would spend hours a week writing love notes to my children in their own keepsake journals, reflecting on the smallest of milestones. These days, I do my best to jot down a quick quote in my Mom’s One Line a Day: A Five-Year Memory Book A very belated birthday letter to my little man (that was the perfect gift from Daddy last Christmas!). So here’s a very belated attempt at composing the perfect birthday letter. (To be fair on your poor, overwhelmed Mommy, I did start writing this the week of your actual birthday, but it’s been a long work in progress.)

Happy, happy third birthday to my superhero-loving-but-not-afraid-to-dress-up-in-a-princess-dress-if-that’s-what-playtime-with-M.E.-dictates, energetic, outdoorsy, imaginative, expressive, strong, bulldozer of a boy!

You keep me busy, little man. You really are like a bulldozer, plowing into me and into life with a whole lot of masculine energy. You roar like a tiger. You butt your head into me like a bull. You eat like a man. My, you can put down food. Oh, but you also cuddle and hug me and scream with delight when you see me. You make my heart melt. You also make me very tired with your strength and shall we say stamina. Not that you’re always on the go. As your personality emerges, I see that you need quiet, alone time. It’s your reset button (it’s mine, too). We were recently at Madeline’s soccer game, and all of the siblings of the other players were playing together, but you and Rachel regularly took breaks from the crowd to just sit alone. Meanwhile, Mary Elizabeth was the social butterfly fluttering from friend to friend. It’s such a wonderful (and sometimes challenging!) gift to have four unique children with such different personalities!

I’ve also noticed that when we go somewhere where there are a lot of people, you have to come up to me every few minutes just to check in and to be reassured. Sometimes you’ll just peek over at me and wave. Other times, you’ll run to me and hug my legs before returning to the crowd. I love that about you – how you’re always on the lookout for Mommy, making sure I’m not too far away.

You want to check to be sure that everyone else and even every thing has a mommy and daddy nearby, too. We will be reading a book about a dog, and you’ll ask where his mommy is. Sometimes you ask where his daddy is as well. We were at a fall festival recently, and you got to meet Hairy Dawg. You asked right away about his mommy and daddy. I told you he was probably the daddy rather than the puppy given his size. He was very big and towered over you, so that seemed to satisfy you. You just want to ensure everyone is taken care of.

Let’s see what else is happening with you these days. You love for me to read you books. Some of your current favorites are: I Love You, Stinky Face A very belated birthday letter to my little man, Over and Over A very belated birthday letter to my little man (which we, not surprisingly, read over and over), Where the Wild Things Are A very belated birthday letter to my little man(you are my little wild thing), and Harry the Dirty Dog A very belated birthday letter to my little man. (In fact, you thought UGA’s “Hairy” was Harry the Dirty Dog at first). You’re also starting to like longer books and will actually curl into me and listen intently. You’re into knights right now, and Saint George and the Dragon A very belated birthday letter to my little man enchants you. We’re trying to teach you to use all that fierce, boy energy to do good and to protect your sisters rather than wrestle them to the ground or pull out fistfuls of their sunshine-kissed hair. Not that my sweet boy has ever been guilty of that. Ahem.

You also love The Oak Inside the Acorn A very belated birthday letter to my little man. You ask a lot of questions about why little acorn had to let go and where his mommy is. The thought of being separate and independent from me both thrills and delights you. That’s par for the course. Fortunately for me, you never stray too far, you love for me to put you to bed, and don’t want me to ever leave your side, and you give me lots of big, strong hugs. I’m one lucky mommy.

You like to play with cars and to be outside. You and Mary Elizabeth play “Mommy & Daddy” quite a bit. She’s the mommy; you’re the daddy. The other day you pretended to get married. She, not surprisingly, got really into dressing up for the part – white cloak and makeup, the whole bridal shebang. You, on the other hand just did what you were told, although you’re frequently not so compliant. You have a mind of your own, and boy, do you sometimes have a temper. I took a bite of your snack (I should have asked, but you should have been kinder about sharing), and your face crumpled up in anger and you roared at me, “You’re a meanie, Mommy!”

You love Curious George (the books and the show). You also love Little Bear, which you discovered at Nana and Pop’s. You’re extremely imaginative. Sometimes you’ll lose yourself in your play, and I love listening to what you’re saying. Before bed you always tell stories aloud to yourself as we rest in the darkness together. Like I wrote earlier, you’re very concerned that everyone – including spiders and characters in books – has a mommy and daddy. You’re extremely animated, and those bright, brown eyes of yours will widen as you tell me something.

At bedtime, you’ll sometimes say, “I want to sleep with Daddy,” but almost without fail, you change your mind at the last minute and say, “Actually, I want to sleep with Mommy.”

You have told me – out of the blue – that I am pretty, and it makes my heart melt more than I could have ever imagined.

I heard you telling Ms. Shelby recently that when you were a little boy, you liked Elmo. As if you’re not still little and a closet Elmo lover. You like to think of yourself as a big boy, but you still need to feel little, too. You’re very curious, and you ask a lot of questions.

I was making you a sandwich for lunch and when I got out some lettuce to put on it, you said, “I don’t want salad on my sandwich, but I do want turquoise.”


“Turquoise!!!” you said, pointing to the mayonnaise. ☺

Every day you say something cute and quotable. You make me laugh. Your bright brown, expressive eyes have a heart-constricting power over me. You have a power over me!

Happy very belated third birthday! I love you so very much, and I can’t wait to see what the next year has in store for you!




DSC 1169 1024x678 A very belated birthday letter to my little man

It’s not always easy being 3, but we’ll get through this together.

Spammers gonna spam

So this is a totally random post because I have to admit something has been going on with my cerebral capacity (as in it has been decreasing at an alarming rate recently), and I just can’t seem to find the time or brain power to write much lately.

The other day my 9-year-old decided she wanted to make dinner for us. She’s always been on the ambitious (and infuriatingly stubborn) side, so she decided to whip together a cheese soufflé. I was busy sifting through a heap of fall festival emails when she was asking me about the recipe. I am 99 percent sure I explained it correctly but when I dropped in the kitchen to check in, I saw that she had never even beat the egg whites to soft peaks. I also discovered our kitchen had transformed into a war zone. The counters were dusted in flour. Every single mixing bowl I own (and I like to bake, so I have a vast collection) was out on display. Shards of egg shells littered the floor. And there in one of the many dirtied bowls was a lumpy, yellowish, and heavy-on-the-flour mixture.

“Where are the egg whites?” I asked.

“I poured them all in to the cheese and flour and yolk mixture,” the sous chef replied with absurd confidence.

“What? Did you not beat them first? Into the snowy peaks I told you about?”


“That’s what I told you to do!”

“You must have said it in your mind.”

Now I am almost sure I said it out loud, but I do feel like a total mombie lately. But I also know this child has many, many positive attributes, but she does have an issue with pride. Nothing is ever solely her fault.

“I think I did say it out loud, but let me ask you this. When you ask me a question, do you sometimes think ‘she doesn’t know what she’s talking about?’ and then just tune me out instead of even trying to listen to what I have to say?”  See, I get this feeling a lot.

“Yes,” she admitted. “But that’s just because you’re usually wrong.” At least she’s honest. Brutally so sometimes apparently.

For the record: I have been wrong a few times, but I am mostly right when it comes to my children’s questions and mostly know more than my 9-year-old.

The other day I was working with my fourth grader on her math, and I admit that I did have to read a stinkin’ word problem three times before I knew what it was asking. My husband and I both agree some math problems are poorly written, however.

My daughter looked at me dubiously when I finally started to explain what the problem meant.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes!” I exclaimed over enthusiastically because honestly I can’t be sure of anything these days.

Oh, and there was that stupid long division problem recently. So I got the wrong remainder. Cut me some slack. I made straight A’s in all my advanced, high school math classes, and I majored in journalism with a theatre minor so it’s been awhile since I’ve had to practice long division, okay? And, anyway, I was trying to teach her math while my 3-year-old was running around screaming and my 5-year-old said over and over in her high-helium voice, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy…” To be fair, this little one never seems to grow impatient or raise her voice at me, but she just will tenaciously keep at the Mommy, Mommy” thing, and sometimes when I am trying to multi-task like a fool, it grates on me. “Stop saying, Mommy!”

“But I need you…”

Doesn’t everybody these days?

I am losing a little confidence in my brain’s ability to perform as it once did and a lot of the times or just slow, like eventually my brain will get me the right word or answer or sentence.  And it’s frustrating because once upon a time I was a witty intellectual/writer/thinker/bookworm who made excellent grades and was teased for being a brainiac nerd. Now I’m teased (by a 9-year-old no less) for usually being wrong.

I blame my brain mush on my hormonal state. Seriously, I feel like my hormones are all over the place. This is the first time in a decade that I am not pregnant and/or nursing, and I’m not sure my body knows how to handle it. My cycles are all over the place. My family medicine doctor wants me to go to an OB/GYN or an endocrinologist to get some tests because she feels I might have early menopause symptoms. Ironically, a few months ago an editor approached me about writing a health article on menopause, but I turned it down, saying something about how I wasn’t ready to think about that yet. Clearly, I am now ready. I am resisting seeing another health professional. I am tired of doctors except the one I’m married to.

I am sleeping as badly as I did when I had my nocturnal newborns, so this could be another reason that I can’t always (usually) string coherent thoughts together.

Regardless of why I am incapable of being as quick-witted as I once was and have had a bit of writer’s block of late, I was recently cleaning up a ridiculous amount of spam I’ve been getting on this site lately and started to come up with all these snarky responses I could shoot back to all the weirdos and bots who make it their mission to spam blogs and websites like me own.

I do have to admit to being tempted to click on the backlink of one such spammer, which read: “Am I psychopath? test online.” But I resisted. I already know I’ve got the crazies. No need to confirm it.

But because I needed a good laugh (I’ve been feeling really stretched thin lately like I am just barely treading water), and maybe you do, too, I’m sharing some recent spam comments, and what I’d like to say back to them (my responses are in italics, and I posted spammers’ comments as is in all their resplendent, bad-grammar glory):


This website is actually quite pleasant.

Why, thank you.



Amen, sista.


Watch Lucy free online.

Who’s Lucy? I’m not even going to think about clicking on your link to find out.


It’s a shame you don’t have a donate button! I’d definitely donate to this superb blog!

Really? Why don’t you send me 500 bucks to my PayPal account? My suberb blog and shoe collection will thank you.


It’s very easy on the eyes.

Maybe I should start sharing some pictures of the atomic waste my toddler refuses to release into an actual toilet. That might not be so easy on your eyes.


Hello superb website! Does running a blog such as this require a lot of work?

Nope. Especially when you only post once every 7-10 days per my style lately.


Oil Rig Jobs in Texas.

It’s been nice knowing you, Georgia.


A rolling stone is worth two in the bush, thanks to this article.

Huh? I don’t believe I mix metaphors too often.


Quit whining.

Are you talking to me or my toddler?



 No comment.


After reading this remarkable paragraph, I’m glad to share your site with collegagues.

I am honored. Are any of your colleagues literary agents? I am working on an amazing work of fiction and need to secure an agent.


Retro Air Jordan Shoes.

How did you know I used to follow the Chicago Bulls and had a major crush on Michael Jordan when I was around 13?


For a large number of people, being in the sky flying is no big deal.

Whom are these large number of people? I’d really like to get to know some flying humans.


Do you have a spam issue on this blog?



And here’s a good tip: if your bag’s cleaning instructions call for air drying in a tumble dryer, try throwing a few tennis balls in with the sleeping bag. You wouldn’t want anything within your bag poking you in the back, why would you think your dog would.

 Alrighty then.


Hmm it seems like your blog ate my first comment (it was super long) so I guess I’ll just sum it up what I wrote and say, I’m thoroughly enjoying your
blog. I too am an aspiring blog writer but I’m still new to everything.

 I wish my blog would eat your second comment as well.


Have you еver considered аbout adding a lіttle bit morе than just youг articles? I mean, what you say іs important and all. But just imagine if youu ɑdded sοme greаt visuals or video clips tօ give your posts mоre, “pop”!

Are you saying pictures of my perfect progeny don’t add enough “pop”? Spammers gonna spam; haters gonna hate.


At all times follow your heart.

Awww. Thank you for that wisdom. I’ve never heard that before.


The storyline reaches a heart wrenching climax, filled with the grief of separation and regret, yet supports the commitment of ever new origins and ongoing cycles of cosmic becoming.

 You really should read William Strunk and E.B. White’s The Elements of Style.  You’re no Faulkner, and sometimes less really is more.



I-a on’tday eakspay ouryay anguagelay, ubay I-a eakspay igpay atinlay.


God Bless you man.

I’m a woman.


Shopping for a nfl jersey?

 Actually, I’m not, but thanks. I am usually found shopping for baby wipes, groceries, and an occasional pair of chic shoes.


“Competition is a laborious fixation, except it produces vast results.”

 If you say so.


My family members every time say that I am killing my time here at net, except I know I am getting know-how everyday by reading such good content.

 I’m tempted to judge you for allowing yourself to be sucked into the black hole of social media, but I am actually killing time responding to ridiculous spammers such as yourself, so we’ll call it even.


It doesnt seem like it would be very difficult to see who’s using it, if you get our drift. All joking aside, for a moment, viagra benefits aren’t just limited to the bedroom; athletes have found that it assists in blood flow, which helps in getting oxygen around the body faster and aids in endurance.

Think it could help with my hip and hamstring?


Thanks for sharing your thoughts on detachment. Regards.

How about detaching yourself from spamming?


Hello i am kavin, its my first occasion to commenting anywhere,

 I don’t belive you, Kavin. I think you comment everywhere you can.


You are so awesome!

Gee, thanks.


I don’t even understand how I ended up here.

 Neither do I.


If possible, you should drink water in a silver glass.

 You learn something new every day.


Hello, I want to subscribe for this webpage to take hottest updates.

 You might want to try another Kate Wicker. The only thing hot around here is the load in my toddler’s diaper right about now.


Frozen shoulder therapy is a very inexpensive remedy for tthe condition. Now-a-days, when technology seeems too makei mpossible possible, Halal food lovers can get their stuff, without moving out of their houses. After striking the frozen ground, the rain droplets freeze instantly and sheen the area with a thin layer of ice.

 I don’t understand you, but do you know anything about Ebola droplets?


Shame on Google for not positioning this put up higher!

 That’s right, Google. Did you hear that? Shame on you for placing Kate Winslet over Kate Wicker when people search “Kate Wi…”


Hello there! This blog post couldn’t be written any better! Reading through this article reminds me of my previous roommate! He constantly kept talking about this. I am going to forward this article to him. Fairly certain he’s going to
have a good read. Many thanks for sharing!

(NOTE: This  comment appeared in the spam folder after my “top 10 reasons to nurse a toddler” post)

Really? Your male roommate constantly talked about nursing toddlers?


Ԝe are the leading movers and packеrs in Mumƅai India.

 I’ll add you to my Rolodex in case we ever decide to move to Asia.


What a data of un-ambiguity and preserveness of valuable experience concerning unexpected emotions.

 What he said.


I have been surfing online more than 2 hours today. Yet, I never found any interesting article like yours.

 Get a life.


Ridiculous quest there. What happened after?
Take care!

(NOTE: posted after “snowy day art”)

We had some hot cocoa, and my toddler almost got frostbite running outside naked. Talk about a ridiculous quest.


Undeniably believe that which you stated.



Write more, thats all I have to say.

 Use better punctuation; that’s all I have to say.


Rest and take a rest.

That’s redundant.


your views are nice for new people.

What about old people?


Simply too Chaotic To Control?

 If you’re talking about my children, then, yes.
We definitely need more smart people like you around.

 I won’t argue with that.


Do you have any video of that?

(NOTE: posted after “this is what extended breastfeeding really looks like”)

 No. Sorry.


But one of the trends in San Francisco nowadays is the Speed Dating.

 Lucky for me I live in Georgia and am married.


You’ve got terrific info these.

 Hopefully, my info is better than your grammar.


Alakazaam-information found, problem solved, thanks!

 You’re welcome. I wish my kids were as easy to please.


to lose weight and get rid of all the excess fat they have on their bodies

 You do know the name of my book is Weightless: Making Peace with Your Body and that I’m not a fan of diets.





You can not continue to function in today’s society with replacing lackluster appearance.

 I function just fine taking a shower every third day, thank you very much.


How To Dress Techno These days

I’m thinking boho chic migh be more suitable for a suburban at-home mom.


you may be a great author

What’s with this “may be”?


Everything typed made a ton of sense. However, think on this, what if you added a little content? I am not suggesting your content is not
solid, but what if youu added something that makes people want more? I mean Just Popping In | Kate Wicker is a
little plain.

 If you don’t have something nice to say, then how about not saying anything at all?


Please let me know if you’re looking ffor a writer for yojr site. Youu have some really great posts and I believe I would be a good asset. If you ever want to take some of the load off, I’d love to write somke material for your blog in exchange for a link back to mine. Please shoot me aan e-mail if interested. Cheers!

 If I was looking for a writer, it wouldn’t be you. Ever heard of Spell Check?


Now that your surgery is approaching get a manicure, pedicure and haircut.

 If I do end up getting hip surgery, I’ll take your advice into consideration.


You’re so interesting!

 Most people who have a blog think they’re pretty interesting.


This is very interesting, You are a very skilled phorumger.

 I don’t think phorumger is a word.


The next step up the ladder is chardonnay.

 I prefer Malbec.


Minecraft also includes monsters that attack mostly at night from which you have to shelter from to stay alive.

I still don’t understand what Minecraft is.


Do you mind if I quote a few of your articles as long as I provide credit and sources back to your blog?
My blog site is in the very same niche as yours and my users would truly benefit from a lot of the information you provide here. Please llet me know if this ook wirh you. Regards!

 Really? Soda Shop India [backlink included with comment] targets moms, Catholics, and/or those seeking a positive body image? Who knew?


The person who wrote post is actually Preston.

 Um, no it’s wasn’t.


You’re very intelligent.

 I’m glad someone thinks so.

My hips are impinging me and so is my attitude

I know it’s been pretty quiet around here, and I still haven’t gotten around to posting a birthday letter to my wild man (tsk, tsk). I’ve just been so busy. I’ve had a few speaking engagements (one is this Friday, and I am so looking forward to the mom retreat), which are always such a joy but also require a hefty chunk of time. I am team manager for my oldest daughter’s soccer team. Three out of four kids are playing the sport this year, so there’s all that soccer schlepping. I’m not sure when I became such a soccer mom, but I am trying to embrace it. I’m also volunteering at the older girls’ school occasionally and am trying to teach the child I am homeschooling more than Look-at-Mommy-try-to-control-little-brother-unsuccessfully–yet-again. Yes, Todzilla remains a loud, physical challenge, but, oh, he can be sweet. Oh, and I landed a fun writing assignment that has nothing to do with poop, parenting, or eating disorders. I am writing about fashion – and loving it! The novel is at a standstill.

I am also traveling to Atlanta almost every other week for ongoing medical treatment. Several more imaging studies have shown that I have femoracetabular impingement (the pincer type, if you’re really interested), which could very well be the culprit behind my high hamstring tendinopathy, more recent hip and back pain, and may require surgery down the road. I am trying to do what’s best for my body and to trust my amazing health care providers, but a part of me is tired of wasting a whole year of my life not running much at all after the partial tear of my high hamstring, which was diagnosed last October. Yup. It’s been a year since all that happened. I bailed out of a race the first weekend of October, but pushed through a half on October 20th. That was my last long run. Sadly, I’ve only been able to manage 10ish miles a week, and now the hip, back, and high butt pain has gotten bad enough that I’ve stopped running yet again.

Like pregnancy bedrest, miscarriages, pining for babies that won’t come, and parenting in general this lengthy and difficult journey has really humbled me.

The other day I was feeling particularly low when my daily Living Faith entry really, really spoke to me. Just when I think all of this faith stuff is wishful thinking, something Spirit-led like this happens to me. Here’s the passage:

Self-emptying to the point of “ouch!” is one of life’s most painful challenges.

To empty ourselves of attitudes that are foreign to the mind of Jesus, to clear out the patterns that limit our worldview, to let go, let go, let go as God invites us: This is the kind of emptying that Jesus modeled. His was a profound surrender, ultimately embodied in: “Not my will but yours be done.”

-Sr. Chris Koellhoffer, I.H.M. Sr. Chris, a sister of Immaculate Heart of Mary, is a writer, spiritual guide and retreat director


That’s just what this injury has forced me to do: to empty myself to the point of a literal and emotional “ouch.” I’ve had to empty myself of my wishes to run or my silly dreams of being a running star when I probably look more like Sponge Bob Squarepants sprinting down the street. It is demanding a “profound surrender” from me, and I am still resisting – a whole year since I was first asked to let go and to accept a path I never would have chosen on my own. I still have days where I cry, days when I ask “why me?” instead of “why not me?” There are days when I forget to focus on all that I can do and the abundant blessings before me. But I am working on it. This long road is forcing me to. It’s also teaching me not only to remain hopeful but to learn to be okay if my hopes are not a reality. I hope to run and compete in races again and to just partake in everyday activities without pain but if that doesn’t happen, it is going to be okay. I am going to be okay.

(As always, thank you for bearing with me and my random rants.)

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