My good friend recently showed me a little note book where she writes down all those important "kid" memories and milestones. What a very good idea, I thought to myself.
Just a second, that's what my blog used to be! I used to keep track of all those special memories right here. What happened?
As my kids get older (they are five and seven now), I've struggled with how much I should be sharing of their personal lives. We're getting close to the age where their school chums will have access to the Internet and will be able to Google anything and everything. I used to let it rip here, but if I get into our messy family business...that means anyone can read it. We're beyond the baby and toddler years and there's something about sharing our elementary school-level stories that makes me kind of unsettled.
That said, I think I'd like to explore where that fine line is. I've proven to myself that I'm pretty lame at tracking special kid memories anywhere other than this blog. I'm also realizing I have no ability to retain all this info on my own. That means I better step it up if my husband and I are ever going to have a general sense of what happened during our life as a young family. When did my kids start walking? Hmmmmm...good question. When did they lose their first tooth? Well hopefully that info is somewhere on this blog (although the little guy hasn't actually lost any teeth so I haven't screwed that memory up yet).
As I was reading the kids a bed time story tonight, my daughter managed to pull out our very loved (like there's missing wedges from gnawing gums kinda loved) copy of "Hush Little Baby" from my son's bookshelf. Both kids wanted me to read/sing it and were equally attentive and seemingly touched as I went through the pages. I told them I used to sing it to them every night. They both told me they remembered and both gave me this sweet hug. And while I'm focusing on the awesomeness and love, and not on the other (negative) child-induced baloney which has occurred in the past week, I'm blown away by how big and amazing these kids of mine have become. It seems like only yesterday that "Hush Little Baby" was a nightly staple.
These little people are my biggest challenge and my greatest joy. And I'm trying to stop and smell the coffee a bit more these days. I'm trying to be mindful. I'm trying not to lose my temper as easily because being a mad mama is super unhealthy. I'm trying not to yell because it makes us all feel like crap. I'm trying to remember that my children's frontal lobes are not yet developed and mine is (i.e. I'm the grown up). I'm trying to model the behavior I want to see in them (which is super hard). I'm going to yoga once a week because it makes me feel awesome, which makes me a better mama. And I really want to enjoy my kids while they are kids, so I'm trying to be more present. In a few years, they're probably not going to want to have much to do with me. If they're anything like I was as a teenager, I better be savoring the time I have now.
Starting this September, my kids will be on the same schedule at the same school for the first time ever. As you may have guessed, I'm starting to realize that everything is going by really fast (like I'm turning 40 next year. What is that all about?). I better pick up the pace and start keeping track of it all...right here at 24-7 Mommy.
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
My Failed Attempt at a Real Simple Essay Contest
Last fall, I read about an essay contest in Real Simple magazine. The essay question was: What is the bravest thing you have ever done?
At the time, I was looking to write more, so I figured I would jump into the contest. How cool would it be to be published in Real Simple? I conveniently forgot I would probably be up against thousands of entries.
The winning essay (which is extremely touching and well done) was published in this month's issue. And while I didn't win first, second, or third place, I thought I'd share my submission here.
I'd like to say that, despite my serious initial struggles with becoming a mother, I'm really happy with where I am now, so please don't worry that I'm in a pit of parenting despair or anything!
As always, feel free to share any thoughts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I don’t consider myself brave. I’ve never run into a burning building to save a person or fought a life-threatening disease.
But if I had to nail bravery down to one act, I’d have to say that walking away from my career and becoming a stay-at-home-mom was by far the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
I became a parent at the age of 31. I’d been working full-time in non-profit communications and public affairs for a number of years in New York City and then Washington, D.C. My job took me all over the country and I felt blessed to have it.
Some come into parenthood easily. I am not one of those people. From the induced labor forward, I struggled desperately with motherhood. Looking back, it’s clear I suffered from some level of postpartum depression. I was getting no sleep, my baby girl was struggling with issues I couldn’t figure out (we know now that she suffers from severe food allergies), and I felt trapped. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
About two weeks after my daughter’s birth, we celebrated Christmas with my family (who had lovingly made the trek from Canada to D.C. to visit us for the holiday). The Ryan family loves Christmas. But as much as we tried, Christmas 2006 was not the same as years past.
I can vividly remember getting out of the shower right before for Christmas dinner (my Mom calling from downstairs that the food was ready) and breaking down in tears. My heavy breasts were leaking milk all over my stomach and blood was draining from the wounds of having given birth to a 9 pound 6.5 ounce baby only weeks before. At that moment, on one of my favorite days of the year, I imagined what it would be like to walk in front of a truck and put an end to the misery. Pretty dark stuff.
I dreaded every night. As much as my husband tried to help, he had to perform at work and needed to get some sleep. I felt so alone and scared when bed time would roll around. My child would not sleep, which meant I could not sleep. And I am one of those people who really need their sleep (as in eight hours a night). The cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days left me desperate, at times. I sadly never reached out for any help. Perhaps motherhood was supposed to be this hard? People had always told me you don’t know how hard it is until you do it. But this seemed extreme.
We lived in a small row house in a central neighborhood at the time. Every morning I would stand in front of our living room window watching all of the “worker bees” head towards their various workplaces. They looked so fresh and well dressed. They walked with such purpose. They were like I used to be, and what I still wanted to be.
The United States is the only industrialized country in the world without guaranteed paid maternity leave. I was lucky my place of employment offered eight weeks.
Before I knew it, those eight weeks had passed by in a foggy haze of depression, dirty diapers, constant breast feeding, swaddling, shooshing and exhaustion (I now understand why sleep deprivation is a form of torture). Most days, I couldn’t think straight. I had a lot of what I called “no drive” days because I would have been too much of a hazard on the road.
Clinging to the idea that I would go back to work, I took advantage of 12 weeks leave provided by the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). I figured that would give me time to get my head screwed back on properly, or to magically snap back into the person I was before becoming a mother.
As the seasons shifted from Winter to Spring, I would day dream about how amazing it would be to sit at my desk and catch up on emails while drinking hot coffee. I would imagine how sweet it would feel to board a plane solo for meetings in another city. How I would be able to sleep all alone in a nice, quiet hotel room. How I would only have to worry about taking care of myself and my professional commitments. And to converse with intelligent adults? Oh, how divine. How could I have taken it all for granted?
As I slowly made my way out of the fog of new motherhood, I realized that having a small baby and a full-time career wasn’t going to blend as easily as I had first anticipated. If I was going back to work, I would need quality child care that would cover my travel schedule and allow my husband and I the flexibility to continue with our professional commitments (he’s in consulting and has an unreliable schedule).
Frankly, I wasn’t making the kind of money that would easily cover the additional expenses of child care, dry cleaning, daily lunches, etc. How far ahead financially would I need to come out to make going back to work worth it? Or should I be working simply because I was not cut out to be a full-time, at-home parent? What was best for me? And what was best for my little family?
The answers to those questions changed as rapidly as the diapers I was changing. One moment I would be sure I had to go back to the office. How could I have invested all those years in school to now sabotage everything I had worked so hard to build professionally? The next moment I would think of how fast my beautiful (and still extremely difficult and exhausting) daughter was growing and how it would be such a shame to miss out on all those “firsts.” I knew in my heart that as shaky a job as I was doing, no one else was going to try to soothe and comfort her like I was.
I had become a mom and I was slowly realizing that my identity had profoundly shifted.
And here’s where the bravery part kicks in. About half way through my FMLA leave, I met my boss for a lunch date, ordered a glass of white wine, and quit my job. He knew it was coming...even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself for months.
I had absolutely no plan. How long would I be home for? How would I fill our days? And what about all the other jobs I was taking on? I was now CEO of our family and that came with some serious responsibility.
I became the house cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry doing, dinner making, stay-at-home mom. I had to shake off my old “worker bee” identity and try to embrace this new, and frankly, much less glamorous identity. And I realized I was lucky to have the choice.
There were many bumps along the path to finding our family “groove.” Especially as we threw another baby into the mix two years after my daughter’s birth. I frequently questioned my parenting abilities (or lack thereof). I wondered why I still struggled while other moms made it look so easy (especially the moms working outside of the home! How did they do it?). I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it was a good five years before I felt like I (mostly) had a handle on everything.
On tough days, my old “worker bee” identity would pop out and reprimand my current “stay-at-home” identity for having given up my job. To this day, almost seven years into it, I can’t help but wonder how far I could have gone if I had stuck with my career. I’ll never know. While I’ve been doing some freelance writing, my old career path is dead.
It’s funny because I probably could have written the same essay if I had made the opposite choice. Going back to work, as the majority of new moms do, would have been extremely brave. But for me, walking away from my career was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. I’m proud of what I did and I’d like to think it was really brave.
At the time, I was looking to write more, so I figured I would jump into the contest. How cool would it be to be published in Real Simple? I conveniently forgot I would probably be up against thousands of entries.
The winning essay (which is extremely touching and well done) was published in this month's issue. And while I didn't win first, second, or third place, I thought I'd share my submission here.
I'd like to say that, despite my serious initial struggles with becoming a mother, I'm really happy with where I am now, so please don't worry that I'm in a pit of parenting despair or anything!
As always, feel free to share any thoughts.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I don’t consider myself brave. I’ve never run into a burning building to save a person or fought a life-threatening disease.
But if I had to nail bravery down to one act, I’d have to say that walking away from my career and becoming a stay-at-home-mom was by far the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
I became a parent at the age of 31. I’d been working full-time in non-profit communications and public affairs for a number of years in New York City and then Washington, D.C. My job took me all over the country and I felt blessed to have it.
Some come into parenthood easily. I am not one of those people. From the induced labor forward, I struggled desperately with motherhood. Looking back, it’s clear I suffered from some level of postpartum depression. I was getting no sleep, my baby girl was struggling with issues I couldn’t figure out (we know now that she suffers from severe food allergies), and I felt trapped. To say I was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
About two weeks after my daughter’s birth, we celebrated Christmas with my family (who had lovingly made the trek from Canada to D.C. to visit us for the holiday). The Ryan family loves Christmas. But as much as we tried, Christmas 2006 was not the same as years past.
I can vividly remember getting out of the shower right before for Christmas dinner (my Mom calling from downstairs that the food was ready) and breaking down in tears. My heavy breasts were leaking milk all over my stomach and blood was draining from the wounds of having given birth to a 9 pound 6.5 ounce baby only weeks before. At that moment, on one of my favorite days of the year, I imagined what it would be like to walk in front of a truck and put an end to the misery. Pretty dark stuff.
I dreaded every night. As much as my husband tried to help, he had to perform at work and needed to get some sleep. I felt so alone and scared when bed time would roll around. My child would not sleep, which meant I could not sleep. And I am one of those people who really need their sleep (as in eight hours a night). The cycle of sleepless nights and lonely days left me desperate, at times. I sadly never reached out for any help. Perhaps motherhood was supposed to be this hard? People had always told me you don’t know how hard it is until you do it. But this seemed extreme.
We lived in a small row house in a central neighborhood at the time. Every morning I would stand in front of our living room window watching all of the “worker bees” head towards their various workplaces. They looked so fresh and well dressed. They walked with such purpose. They were like I used to be, and what I still wanted to be.
The United States is the only industrialized country in the world without guaranteed paid maternity leave. I was lucky my place of employment offered eight weeks.
Before I knew it, those eight weeks had passed by in a foggy haze of depression, dirty diapers, constant breast feeding, swaddling, shooshing and exhaustion (I now understand why sleep deprivation is a form of torture). Most days, I couldn’t think straight. I had a lot of what I called “no drive” days because I would have been too much of a hazard on the road.
Clinging to the idea that I would go back to work, I took advantage of 12 weeks leave provided by the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA). I figured that would give me time to get my head screwed back on properly, or to magically snap back into the person I was before becoming a mother.
As the seasons shifted from Winter to Spring, I would day dream about how amazing it would be to sit at my desk and catch up on emails while drinking hot coffee. I would imagine how sweet it would feel to board a plane solo for meetings in another city. How I would be able to sleep all alone in a nice, quiet hotel room. How I would only have to worry about taking care of myself and my professional commitments. And to converse with intelligent adults? Oh, how divine. How could I have taken it all for granted?
As I slowly made my way out of the fog of new motherhood, I realized that having a small baby and a full-time career wasn’t going to blend as easily as I had first anticipated. If I was going back to work, I would need quality child care that would cover my travel schedule and allow my husband and I the flexibility to continue with our professional commitments (he’s in consulting and has an unreliable schedule).
Frankly, I wasn’t making the kind of money that would easily cover the additional expenses of child care, dry cleaning, daily lunches, etc. How far ahead financially would I need to come out to make going back to work worth it? Or should I be working simply because I was not cut out to be a full-time, at-home parent? What was best for me? And what was best for my little family?
The answers to those questions changed as rapidly as the diapers I was changing. One moment I would be sure I had to go back to the office. How could I have invested all those years in school to now sabotage everything I had worked so hard to build professionally? The next moment I would think of how fast my beautiful (and still extremely difficult and exhausting) daughter was growing and how it would be such a shame to miss out on all those “firsts.” I knew in my heart that as shaky a job as I was doing, no one else was going to try to soothe and comfort her like I was.
I had become a mom and I was slowly realizing that my identity had profoundly shifted.
And here’s where the bravery part kicks in. About half way through my FMLA leave, I met my boss for a lunch date, ordered a glass of white wine, and quit my job. He knew it was coming...even if I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself for months.
I had absolutely no plan. How long would I be home for? How would I fill our days? And what about all the other jobs I was taking on? I was now CEO of our family and that came with some serious responsibility.
I became the house cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry doing, dinner making, stay-at-home mom. I had to shake off my old “worker bee” identity and try to embrace this new, and frankly, much less glamorous identity. And I realized I was lucky to have the choice.
There were many bumps along the path to finding our family “groove.” Especially as we threw another baby into the mix two years after my daughter’s birth. I frequently questioned my parenting abilities (or lack thereof). I wondered why I still struggled while other moms made it look so easy (especially the moms working outside of the home! How did they do it?). I’m embarrassed to admit this, but it was a good five years before I felt like I (mostly) had a handle on everything.
On tough days, my old “worker bee” identity would pop out and reprimand my current “stay-at-home” identity for having given up my job. To this day, almost seven years into it, I can’t help but wonder how far I could have gone if I had stuck with my career. I’ll never know. While I’ve been doing some freelance writing, my old career path is dead.
It’s funny because I probably could have written the same essay if I had made the opposite choice. Going back to work, as the majority of new moms do, would have been extremely brave. But for me, walking away from my career was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. I’m proud of what I did and I’d like to think it was really brave.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
High Expectations
Wow. Where did that month go?
Well people, it's good to see you. I think of you often and can't wait for life to calm down so I can sit at my computer and type out my joys and sorrows.
I've recently realized that when you volunteer time, you have less of it. You may recall I have been serving as the editor of the little guy's preschool's newsletter and that I am also writing for our local community newsletter. These things take time, and when I agreed to take them on, I didn't really think about how it would effect my blogging. Apparently it has effected my blogging quite seriously.
So here I am. I have so many subjects I want to write about, I don't really know where to start. Instead of backtracking, I will start with today.
My dear Mother left for the airport this morning at 7am. She had come for a short visit and it went by so very fast...as her visits always do. While shuttling my kids to and fro this morning, I was struck by how badly I felt. You see, my kids were not well behaved during her visit and I was constantly feeling upset, stressed, embarrassed and frustrated. I felt like I had no control of my offspring and that I looked like a frantic, crazy Mama who was hanging on by a thread. And while some of that is certainly true, I know in my heart that the past few days were extreme because the kids had an audience (other than their parents). There were times when I was at a loss and just wanted to yell and scream, give up, turn on some "educational" TV and go hide in a hole. My Mom reassures me they were very well behaved whenever my husband and I were out of the house (like on our date night or our furniture shopping escapade). And while that makes me feel a bit better, why couldn't they have been like that when I was around?
During her visit, I asked my Mom a lot of questions about how she juggled all the craziness of having three small kids back in the day. She admits she doesn't remember all that much, but she did point out that she always worked part-time and that gave her a chance to get away from the house, socialize and work with adults (not spouses or relatives), and gain perspective on her family life. She encouraged me to get out of the house more and do things for myself. She also told me (in a nice way) that my life revolves around my kids.
When I sit down and look at my family's life, I will be the first to acknowledge that I am the one who is home and running the show the majority of the time. And without family back-up, there isn't much relief. Frankly, my life does revolve around my kids and I am not sure how I would be able to change that right now.
The two mornings I get alone when both of the little monsters are at school (3.5 hours a week (after drive time)!), I am pretty overrun with a hefty to do list. Frankly, there are just too many errands I am not willing to do with the little guy anymore because he has become such a fan of public meltdowns. And that means there are a lot of things to accomplish when he is not around!
But I am trying. I have actually been to a gym six times since late January (thanks to a Groupon deal). I get out to dinner or brunch with friends every few weeks. I took an anger management class for parents (which made a ton of sense in theory but is proving rather difficult to implement in reality). And I just started a leadership training course at PEP (the Parent Encouragement Program) which offers the parenting classes I've been taking over the past year. Now seriously, what else can a girl fit in??
Anyway, I'm babbling a bit here but I just had to share my frustration over the constant stress of being a stay-at-home parent of a challenging five year old and a defiant, moody and physically abusive three old. I used to complain that babies were tough (which of course they are--especially the grueling sleep deprivation and loss of self), but man oh man, it's nothing compared to the physical, emotional and mental demands I now face daily. And when everything gets even more ramped up during a five day visit from Nana, it certainly forces me to ask: "why is this (parenthood) so freakin hard and how do I make this (parenthood) better?"
My solution for today was to rush to the gym, run on a treadmill for 25 minutes, sit in a hot sauna for 10 minutes, and buy an overpriced fancy latte before grabbing a few groceries and rushing to pick up the little guy at preschool. Endorphins combined with caffeine can be a pretty awesome thing. It certainly help put things in perspective this morning.
My Mom mentioned that perhaps Mothers today are too hard on themselves. Our expectations and standards are too high and we set ourselves up for failure because there is no way we can achieve our lofty goals. There could be some truth to this. But is it too much to ask to just have kids who listen and don't give you attitude or physically attack you when they don't get their way? Is that really asking too much? And if I am embarassed by my kids crazy behavior because I take it as a reflection on my parenting abilities, does that mean I am being too hard on myself? The truth is, I just don't know.
Well people, it's good to see you. I think of you often and can't wait for life to calm down so I can sit at my computer and type out my joys and sorrows.
I've recently realized that when you volunteer time, you have less of it. You may recall I have been serving as the editor of the little guy's preschool's newsletter and that I am also writing for our local community newsletter. These things take time, and when I agreed to take them on, I didn't really think about how it would effect my blogging. Apparently it has effected my blogging quite seriously.
So here I am. I have so many subjects I want to write about, I don't really know where to start. Instead of backtracking, I will start with today.
My dear Mother left for the airport this morning at 7am. She had come for a short visit and it went by so very fast...as her visits always do. While shuttling my kids to and fro this morning, I was struck by how badly I felt. You see, my kids were not well behaved during her visit and I was constantly feeling upset, stressed, embarrassed and frustrated. I felt like I had no control of my offspring and that I looked like a frantic, crazy Mama who was hanging on by a thread. And while some of that is certainly true, I know in my heart that the past few days were extreme because the kids had an audience (other than their parents). There were times when I was at a loss and just wanted to yell and scream, give up, turn on some "educational" TV and go hide in a hole. My Mom reassures me they were very well behaved whenever my husband and I were out of the house (like on our date night or our furniture shopping escapade). And while that makes me feel a bit better, why couldn't they have been like that when I was around?
During her visit, I asked my Mom a lot of questions about how she juggled all the craziness of having three small kids back in the day. She admits she doesn't remember all that much, but she did point out that she always worked part-time and that gave her a chance to get away from the house, socialize and work with adults (not spouses or relatives), and gain perspective on her family life. She encouraged me to get out of the house more and do things for myself. She also told me (in a nice way) that my life revolves around my kids.
When I sit down and look at my family's life, I will be the first to acknowledge that I am the one who is home and running the show the majority of the time. And without family back-up, there isn't much relief. Frankly, my life does revolve around my kids and I am not sure how I would be able to change that right now.
The two mornings I get alone when both of the little monsters are at school (3.5 hours a week (after drive time)!), I am pretty overrun with a hefty to do list. Frankly, there are just too many errands I am not willing to do with the little guy anymore because he has become such a fan of public meltdowns. And that means there are a lot of things to accomplish when he is not around!
But I am trying. I have actually been to a gym six times since late January (thanks to a Groupon deal). I get out to dinner or brunch with friends every few weeks. I took an anger management class for parents (which made a ton of sense in theory but is proving rather difficult to implement in reality). And I just started a leadership training course at PEP (the Parent Encouragement Program) which offers the parenting classes I've been taking over the past year. Now seriously, what else can a girl fit in??
Anyway, I'm babbling a bit here but I just had to share my frustration over the constant stress of being a stay-at-home parent of a challenging five year old and a defiant, moody and physically abusive three old. I used to complain that babies were tough (which of course they are--especially the grueling sleep deprivation and loss of self), but man oh man, it's nothing compared to the physical, emotional and mental demands I now face daily. And when everything gets even more ramped up during a five day visit from Nana, it certainly forces me to ask: "why is this (parenthood) so freakin hard and how do I make this (parenthood) better?"
My solution for today was to rush to the gym, run on a treadmill for 25 minutes, sit in a hot sauna for 10 minutes, and buy an overpriced fancy latte before grabbing a few groceries and rushing to pick up the little guy at preschool. Endorphins combined with caffeine can be a pretty awesome thing. It certainly help put things in perspective this morning.
My Mom mentioned that perhaps Mothers today are too hard on themselves. Our expectations and standards are too high and we set ourselves up for failure because there is no way we can achieve our lofty goals. There could be some truth to this. But is it too much to ask to just have kids who listen and don't give you attitude or physically attack you when they don't get their way? Is that really asking too much? And if I am embarassed by my kids crazy behavior because I take it as a reflection on my parenting abilities, does that mean I am being too hard on myself? The truth is, I just don't know.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Overanalysis?
This week I had a moment of panic. Am I over analyzing all this parenting stuff? Am I over thinking every decision and what its potential impact on my children may be? Does it mean that I'm slightly crazy because I'm taking a parenting class? In fact, does it make me even crazier that I have just signed up for the second session of this parenting class?
This was all brought about because I had my annual visit to the OB-GYN doctor. I think my doctor is awesome. She's smart, young, easy to talk to, and always makes you feel better about things (like telling you it's OK you were drinking beer before you knew you were actually pregnant).
But this week, while she reassured me that everything looks good with my body, she didn't reassure me about my parenting. In fact, my doctor's comments made me question myself and the fact that I have pretty much dedicated myself to tackling this positive parenting stuff. I mentioned to her that I was taking this class because I was really struggling with my "spirited" preschooler. She made a few comments about how my daughter was just a normal kid and that it all goes with the territory.
As I have mentioned, I am taking my course work seriously and am really trying to apply what I'm learning in the class room and in my text book to my daily life as a Mom.
I spent a good chunk of time wondering if my doc was right (and I don't like spending good chunks of valuable time questioning myself). I brought this up with my husband, and in explaining the story to him, I came to the realization of why my doc didn't understand what I was talking about. My doctor, as awesome as she is, has not yet become a Mother herself. She has helped many women become Mothers (such as yours truly), but she has never been in the challenging situations in which I find myself daily (she faces much different daily challenges, I'm sure!).
As soon as I came to that realization, the questioning stopped. And that's a good place to be.
This was all brought about because I had my annual visit to the OB-GYN doctor. I think my doctor is awesome. She's smart, young, easy to talk to, and always makes you feel better about things (like telling you it's OK you were drinking beer before you knew you were actually pregnant).
But this week, while she reassured me that everything looks good with my body, she didn't reassure me about my parenting. In fact, my doctor's comments made me question myself and the fact that I have pretty much dedicated myself to tackling this positive parenting stuff. I mentioned to her that I was taking this class because I was really struggling with my "spirited" preschooler. She made a few comments about how my daughter was just a normal kid and that it all goes with the territory.
As I have mentioned, I am taking my course work seriously and am really trying to apply what I'm learning in the class room and in my text book to my daily life as a Mom.
I spent a good chunk of time wondering if my doc was right (and I don't like spending good chunks of valuable time questioning myself). I brought this up with my husband, and in explaining the story to him, I came to the realization of why my doc didn't understand what I was talking about. My doctor, as awesome as she is, has not yet become a Mother herself. She has helped many women become Mothers (such as yours truly), but she has never been in the challenging situations in which I find myself daily (she faces much different daily challenges, I'm sure!).
As soon as I came to that realization, the questioning stopped. And that's a good place to be.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
The Love
This morning the babe told me she doesn't love me. Her exact words were, "I don't love you." She was pretty clear, but I was luckily able to just let it roll off me. I was surprised, as it was the first time, but I had expected it would happen eventually. It was a bit of a rough morning. I tried my best but know that I was at fault as much as she was.
I've mentioned that I find weekends difficult as a Stay-at-Home Mother, and this weekend reminded me why. Having all 4 of us home for 2 days just seems like a long time. Kids don't given parents much of a break, even if the parents need a break. These early childhood years can be both brilliant and challenging. I always hope for more brilliance and less challenge, but it doesn't always work out that way. Especially on the weekend!
I commented to my husband this evening that it felt like we were living in an insane asylum (the kids were running around chasing each other and screaming at the tops of their lungs). But I followed up with the fact that I was glad we had had the little guy so close to the babe so they could be buddies. As much as they drive each other nuts, and drive us, their parents, nuts, I suppose it's all good in the end. I have been told we will look back at these years with fondness. And while that may be hard to understand right now, I have no doubt that it will prove true (even if my daughter declares she does not love me while I am trying to enjoy my morning coffee).
I've mentioned that I find weekends difficult as a Stay-at-Home Mother, and this weekend reminded me why. Having all 4 of us home for 2 days just seems like a long time. Kids don't given parents much of a break, even if the parents need a break. These early childhood years can be both brilliant and challenging. I always hope for more brilliance and less challenge, but it doesn't always work out that way. Especially on the weekend!
I commented to my husband this evening that it felt like we were living in an insane asylum (the kids were running around chasing each other and screaming at the tops of their lungs). But I followed up with the fact that I was glad we had had the little guy so close to the babe so they could be buddies. As much as they drive each other nuts, and drive us, their parents, nuts, I suppose it's all good in the end. I have been told we will look back at these years with fondness. And while that may be hard to understand right now, I have no doubt that it will prove true (even if my daughter declares she does not love me while I am trying to enjoy my morning coffee).
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Holding a Grudge
I have been known to hold a grudge. It's not a good thing, and I don't intentionally do it, I'm just saying it can happen.
That's why it's so difficult having young kids. They can do things that hurt you physically as well as emotionally. The babe has told me many times over the past week and a half that she likes school more than being at home. And she likes hanging out with her friends better than being stuck at home with me. I get it. I like school better as well. But August is a month we must all spend together and I'm trying to make the best of it, despite the weather.
I did a rare thing today and lay down on the couch in front of both my kids. The little guy brought me a blanket and tried to tuck me in and give me kisses. The babe abandoned her play doh and ran over to get in on the action. Before I knew it they were both crawling all over and suffocating me. I was handling it all pretty well until the babe started pulling my hair. I asked her to stop, telling her it was hurting me, but she didn't stop. With about 60 pounds of weight on my upper body I wasn't able to pull her off effectively. In the end I got them off but not before I had lost some hair as well as my temper. I suppose kids like to push things past the limit because they don't understand where the limit is.
The babe acted as if nothing big had happened and continued on. I tried to talk to her and explain I didn't appreciate having my hair pulled out. As she walked back to her play doh in the dining room I realized that sometimes I need to let things go. My kids are little. And while I am trying to teach them how to be good people, it doesn't all click in overnight. I cannot hold a grudge against them because they said or did the wrong thing. It is my job to teach them to be good, honest, respectful, loving people who do not hold grudges.
So next time they are being ridiculous, I am going to try and check in with myself and remember, THEY ARE JUST LITTLE KIDS. I need to keep my very high expectations in check. Before I know it, they will be grown and I will miss their precious innocence and imperfections. Hopefully I'll still have the hair on my head.
That's why it's so difficult having young kids. They can do things that hurt you physically as well as emotionally. The babe has told me many times over the past week and a half that she likes school more than being at home. And she likes hanging out with her friends better than being stuck at home with me. I get it. I like school better as well. But August is a month we must all spend together and I'm trying to make the best of it, despite the weather.
I did a rare thing today and lay down on the couch in front of both my kids. The little guy brought me a blanket and tried to tuck me in and give me kisses. The babe abandoned her play doh and ran over to get in on the action. Before I knew it they were both crawling all over and suffocating me. I was handling it all pretty well until the babe started pulling my hair. I asked her to stop, telling her it was hurting me, but she didn't stop. With about 60 pounds of weight on my upper body I wasn't able to pull her off effectively. In the end I got them off but not before I had lost some hair as well as my temper. I suppose kids like to push things past the limit because they don't understand where the limit is.
The babe acted as if nothing big had happened and continued on. I tried to talk to her and explain I didn't appreciate having my hair pulled out. As she walked back to her play doh in the dining room I realized that sometimes I need to let things go. My kids are little. And while I am trying to teach them how to be good people, it doesn't all click in overnight. I cannot hold a grudge against them because they said or did the wrong thing. It is my job to teach them to be good, honest, respectful, loving people who do not hold grudges.
So next time they are being ridiculous, I am going to try and check in with myself and remember, THEY ARE JUST LITTLE KIDS. I need to keep my very high expectations in check. Before I know it, they will be grown and I will miss their precious innocence and imperfections. Hopefully I'll still have the hair on my head.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Cuddles
I have a good friend due to have her first baby at the end of the month. Today she came by with her husband to pick up some baby stuff we're lending them. I am glad to see it put to good use. But it also made me realize I don't really need to keep all this stuff. My baby is 19 months old now and will never need a little swing or bouncy seat again.
Thinking about it made me a bit sad. It also made me long for the cuddles I used to get from both of my kids when they were babies. There is a closeness you lose as your children grow, and I miss it.
So it's funny that on a day I was missing my snuggles, my son gave me such a special gift. The kids went to bed a little later than usual tonight and my son was exhausted by the time I was getting him in his onesie and sleep sack. I don't know how it happened but I ended up holding him and rocking back and forth while humming. And he let me just hold him. He didn't squirm. He didn't try to wiggle out of the hug. And he didn't push away from me with all his strength. This lasted a few minutes, and it was bliss.
There's nothing like holding a little one in your arms. A few years ago I wouldn't have believed that I could miss it.
Thinking about it made me a bit sad. It also made me long for the cuddles I used to get from both of my kids when they were babies. There is a closeness you lose as your children grow, and I miss it.
So it's funny that on a day I was missing my snuggles, my son gave me such a special gift. The kids went to bed a little later than usual tonight and my son was exhausted by the time I was getting him in his onesie and sleep sack. I don't know how it happened but I ended up holding him and rocking back and forth while humming. And he let me just hold him. He didn't squirm. He didn't try to wiggle out of the hug. And he didn't push away from me with all his strength. This lasted a few minutes, and it was bliss.
There's nothing like holding a little one in your arms. A few years ago I wouldn't have believed that I could miss it.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Let the Games Begin
Today was the babe's last day of school. It is now officially summer vacation. I'll admit it, I'm scared. I am not good at dealing with 2 kids all day, every day. That is part of the reason the babe has been in school 5 days a week. But I am going to try and have a positive attitude going into this.
I remember loving summer vacation as a kid. The feeling of freedom was awesome. Playing outside was awesome. Not going to school was awesome. But when it comes down to it, I think the babe loves school. She gets to play with her friends, play outside, and learn all these cool things. My task is to make home as cool as school.
I don't have much of a plan other than to write a list of activities that we can do every day. I am thinking a "schedule" of sorts will be helpful. If we can get out of the house every day by 9am, there's a good chance we will still be sane by lunch time. I am going to stick to a daily nap time for both of them, and think of arts/crafts related activities to get us from nap time to dinner.
As tempting as it is, I MUST NOT let them watch an insane amount of TV every day. To do this, I am going to have to let a few things around the house slide, but it's only for about 5 weeks.
This is my time to test my Mama skills. This is my time to shine. Can you hear me psyching myself up? I can do this.
I remember loving summer vacation as a kid. The feeling of freedom was awesome. Playing outside was awesome. Not going to school was awesome. But when it comes down to it, I think the babe loves school. She gets to play with her friends, play outside, and learn all these cool things. My task is to make home as cool as school.
I don't have much of a plan other than to write a list of activities that we can do every day. I am thinking a "schedule" of sorts will be helpful. If we can get out of the house every day by 9am, there's a good chance we will still be sane by lunch time. I am going to stick to a daily nap time for both of them, and think of arts/crafts related activities to get us from nap time to dinner.
As tempting as it is, I MUST NOT let them watch an insane amount of TV every day. To do this, I am going to have to let a few things around the house slide, but it's only for about 5 weeks.
This is my time to test my Mama skills. This is my time to shine. Can you hear me psyching myself up? I can do this.
Monday, July 19, 2010
The Tomatoes
I wanted to share a special thing.
The other day we were having a "family" dinner. My husband and I were still eating but the babe had left the table to wash her hands. At this point we weren't so relaxed because our family dinner hadn't gone so well (see below).
The babe came back to the table with one tomato for her Papa, one tomato for me, and one tomato for herself (the little guy doesn't like them). These were the tomatoes she had picked from our garden and washed herself. How incredibly SWEET is that? I am so proud to be her Mama.
The thing that gets me is that we didn't ask for the tomatoes, she just brought them. It's gestures like this that make me think that things are getting through to her and maybe we aren't doing such a bad job after all.
The other day we were having a "family" dinner. My husband and I were still eating but the babe had left the table to wash her hands. At this point we weren't so relaxed because our family dinner hadn't gone so well (see below).
The babe came back to the table with one tomato for her Papa, one tomato for me, and one tomato for herself (the little guy doesn't like them). These were the tomatoes she had picked from our garden and washed herself. How incredibly SWEET is that? I am so proud to be her Mama.
The thing that gets me is that we didn't ask for the tomatoes, she just brought them. It's gestures like this that make me think that things are getting through to her and maybe we aren't doing such a bad job after all.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Happy Half Birthday!
My darling son is 1.5 today. Despite all the chaos this week, I just wanted to mark this special occasion. I cannot believe my baby boy is so old.
Last week the kids and I went to a music class in our former neighborhood. We visited one of our old parks before class and it brought back so many memories. The babe and I used to frequent this park when she was the little guy's age. It was one of our special places. And now another few years have gone by and there I was was, bringing 2 babies to the park instead of just 1.
The thing that hit me the most was that this was the park the babe and I went to at 6:30 am the day I found out I was pregnant with the little guy. It was a weekend morning, and it was my husband's sleep in day. The babe woke up early that day so I took advantage of the situation and took an early morning pregnancy test. When it came up that I was pregnant, I just didn't know what to think, or do. So I packed the babe up and off we went to the park.
The emotions of that morning came back to me last week as I stood in the park with my children. A stranger complimented them saying they were both beautiful. And indeed they are. Sometimes a trip down memory lane can help you remember that you are where you always wanted to be.
Last week the kids and I went to a music class in our former neighborhood. We visited one of our old parks before class and it brought back so many memories. The babe and I used to frequent this park when she was the little guy's age. It was one of our special places. And now another few years have gone by and there I was was, bringing 2 babies to the park instead of just 1.
The thing that hit me the most was that this was the park the babe and I went to at 6:30 am the day I found out I was pregnant with the little guy. It was a weekend morning, and it was my husband's sleep in day. The babe woke up early that day so I took advantage of the situation and took an early morning pregnancy test. When it came up that I was pregnant, I just didn't know what to think, or do. So I packed the babe up and off we went to the park.
The emotions of that morning came back to me last week as I stood in the park with my children. A stranger complimented them saying they were both beautiful. And indeed they are. Sometimes a trip down memory lane can help you remember that you are where you always wanted to be.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Breaking Point
Some days the kids are just whiny and annoying, like today. I had hopes that we'd have a smooth day that would involve watching some World Cup soccer. By the time the US versus UK match was on, the kids were melting down, despite the fact they'd just woken up from naps.
I was cagey, frustrated, anxious and needed to blow off steam. It just gets to a point where everything rubs you the wrong way. My observant husband suggested I go for a walk. So I threw on my flip flops and left the house with no destination in mind. I recalled a house for sale that I wanted to walk by, so off I went.
On the way, I passed by a house with 3 younger girls and a Mother fighting (in French) on their front porch. I couldn't help but stare at what was, I'd guess, the ultimate breaking point for this Mother. She was screaming and grabbed one of the girls by the pony tail and yanked her head back. I'm sure she was holding herself back. They didn't even notice me walking by as the situation was obviously so intense and all consuming. The Mom managed to direct all the girls inside, and as I walked by I heard the front door slam hard and the Mother's continued screams inside.
As parents we are tested in so many ways, every day. Parenthood puts us into the most annoying and frustrating situations and sometimes we just can't keep our cool. It is like a volcano that just has to erupt. It feels good to let it rip, but we usually regret it once the lava has spewed everywhere and we're left to clean up the pieces. But we can't always be perfect. And I will be the first to admit that most folks on this block have seen me freaking out at my kids as I try to heard them to the car or back into the house. We aren't always at our best, and that's the reality of it.
Anyway, I felt so bad after walking by this scene that I decided on the spot that I was going to go home and get the kids into their UV protective swim wear and turn on the sprinkler. The kids were nuts when I got home, but I got them suited up and we hit the outdoors with a burst of excitement.
It was the best thing we could have done. They had an awesome time and I got to sit on the porch and watch them play together. A moment of bliss in an otherwise annoying day. Hang in there parents....no day can be perfect, and neither can we.
I was cagey, frustrated, anxious and needed to blow off steam. It just gets to a point where everything rubs you the wrong way. My observant husband suggested I go for a walk. So I threw on my flip flops and left the house with no destination in mind. I recalled a house for sale that I wanted to walk by, so off I went.
On the way, I passed by a house with 3 younger girls and a Mother fighting (in French) on their front porch. I couldn't help but stare at what was, I'd guess, the ultimate breaking point for this Mother. She was screaming and grabbed one of the girls by the pony tail and yanked her head back. I'm sure she was holding herself back. They didn't even notice me walking by as the situation was obviously so intense and all consuming. The Mom managed to direct all the girls inside, and as I walked by I heard the front door slam hard and the Mother's continued screams inside.
As parents we are tested in so many ways, every day. Parenthood puts us into the most annoying and frustrating situations and sometimes we just can't keep our cool. It is like a volcano that just has to erupt. It feels good to let it rip, but we usually regret it once the lava has spewed everywhere and we're left to clean up the pieces. But we can't always be perfect. And I will be the first to admit that most folks on this block have seen me freaking out at my kids as I try to heard them to the car or back into the house. We aren't always at our best, and that's the reality of it.
Anyway, I felt so bad after walking by this scene that I decided on the spot that I was going to go home and get the kids into their UV protective swim wear and turn on the sprinkler. The kids were nuts when I got home, but I got them suited up and we hit the outdoors with a burst of excitement.
It was the best thing we could have done. They had an awesome time and I got to sit on the porch and watch them play together. A moment of bliss in an otherwise annoying day. Hang in there parents....no day can be perfect, and neither can we.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Clock Keeps Ticking
I actually finished a book last night (Twenties Girl). It was one of my silly escapism books that I like to indulge in. It usually takes me a really long time to read these ones as they are always in addition to whatever parenting book I am struggling through, along with whatever my book club is reading. And considering I don't read as much as I want, it is exciting for me to finish any book.
The thing that made me nostalgic about finishing Twenties Girl was the fact that my book mark was a breast pad, still in its original wrapper. In fact, I found a whole box of them in the little guy's closet yesterday. I was on a spring organizing/cleaning/sorting mission and kept coming across baby items (itty bitty blankets, spit up cloths, etc.) that I just don't need.
And it got me to thinking; it's already been over 3 months since I weaned the little guy and I am never going to breast feed again. After breastfeeding my 2 kids for a combined 27 months, it has already become foreign. When I saw a few women nursing their babies at the park yesterday, I was touched by how tender, yet distant it seemed to me.
I get sentimental when I think about moving on, as much as I look forward to it. I admit I am attached to all the baby stuff and am sad when I move outgrown outfits and random items up to the attic for storage.
My kids are growing up so quickly and I am only now beginning to understand what people mean when the say it all happens so fast. As much as I can still see them as the babes they once were, they really are both their own little people now, and I am having to navigate these relationships with a respect that didn't used to seem necessary (I don't mean that I didn't used to respect them, only that they really are "people" now).
I am so happy with our family, and so excited to watch my babies grow (in fact, the babe turned 3.5 yesterday!), but they will always be my little ones, no matter how big they get.
The thing that made me nostalgic about finishing Twenties Girl was the fact that my book mark was a breast pad, still in its original wrapper. In fact, I found a whole box of them in the little guy's closet yesterday. I was on a spring organizing/cleaning/sorting mission and kept coming across baby items (itty bitty blankets, spit up cloths, etc.) that I just don't need.
And it got me to thinking; it's already been over 3 months since I weaned the little guy and I am never going to breast feed again. After breastfeeding my 2 kids for a combined 27 months, it has already become foreign. When I saw a few women nursing their babies at the park yesterday, I was touched by how tender, yet distant it seemed to me.
I get sentimental when I think about moving on, as much as I look forward to it. I admit I am attached to all the baby stuff and am sad when I move outgrown outfits and random items up to the attic for storage.
My kids are growing up so quickly and I am only now beginning to understand what people mean when the say it all happens so fast. As much as I can still see them as the babes they once were, they really are both their own little people now, and I am having to navigate these relationships with a respect that didn't used to seem necessary (I don't mean that I didn't used to respect them, only that they really are "people" now).
I am so happy with our family, and so excited to watch my babies grow (in fact, the babe turned 3.5 yesterday!), but they will always be my little ones, no matter how big they get.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Grateful
They say you don't know what you've got till it's gone. How true, how true. This morning, the power went out. My heart sunk. Then it came back. Then it went out again...and stayed out.
From 8:30 am to 1:20 pm, we had no power. This gap in reality has made me realize how much I take electricity for granted. I felt completely immobilized. No computer, no music, no radio in the kitchen, no phone, can't open the fridge because I don't want to let the cold air out, can't use the microwave, and oh yeah, the toaster isn't working either. I was officially roughing it.
So after dropping the babe off at school, the little guy and I went to the grocery store for non-perishable items. The power was still out when we got home so I decided we should eat a lot of snacks from the cupboard and sit on the floor to play with toys.
When the little guy's nap time came along I was a tad nervous. No sound machine to block out the outside noise or fan to circulate the sticky air. Amazingly he fell asleep without all our usual devices going at full speed.
I called my husband on my very low battery cell and asked him if he had a PEPCO status update and just as he was about to fill me in, the power came back on. Sweet. Things are again as they should be.
How the heck did all those Moms of the past take care of their families without electricity? In fact, how do all the Moms without electricity take care of their families present day? Not to mention access to clean drinking water, healthy food, and quality medical care. With Mother's Day coming up, check out UNICEF's Inspired Gifts. If you're looking for a gift idea for a special Mom in your life, this one would go far to help those Moms who are less fortunate.
I am so blessed, and sometimes it takes a little inconvenience to just remember to count my lucky stars, even if it has been a gazillion degrees and we're not using our AC until we have the HVAC system cleaned out on Wednesday. At least I can be hot and sticky with electricity.
From 8:30 am to 1:20 pm, we had no power. This gap in reality has made me realize how much I take electricity for granted. I felt completely immobilized. No computer, no music, no radio in the kitchen, no phone, can't open the fridge because I don't want to let the cold air out, can't use the microwave, and oh yeah, the toaster isn't working either. I was officially roughing it.
So after dropping the babe off at school, the little guy and I went to the grocery store for non-perishable items. The power was still out when we got home so I decided we should eat a lot of snacks from the cupboard and sit on the floor to play with toys.
When the little guy's nap time came along I was a tad nervous. No sound machine to block out the outside noise or fan to circulate the sticky air. Amazingly he fell asleep without all our usual devices going at full speed.
I called my husband on my very low battery cell and asked him if he had a PEPCO status update and just as he was about to fill me in, the power came back on. Sweet. Things are again as they should be.
How the heck did all those Moms of the past take care of their families without electricity? In fact, how do all the Moms without electricity take care of their families present day? Not to mention access to clean drinking water, healthy food, and quality medical care. With Mother's Day coming up, check out UNICEF's Inspired Gifts. If you're looking for a gift idea for a special Mom in your life, this one would go far to help those Moms who are less fortunate.
I am so blessed, and sometimes it takes a little inconvenience to just remember to count my lucky stars, even if it has been a gazillion degrees and we're not using our AC until we have the HVAC system cleaned out on Wednesday. At least I can be hot and sticky with electricity.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Broken Record
I am getting sick of the sound of my own voice. I feel like a broken record these days. If you hit play, these are some of the things you will likely hear:
- Be careful please
- Are your ears open? Are you doing good listening?
- Did you hear what I said?
- Out of your mouth
- Soft touch please
- No hitting
- No, we don't do that
- Did you hear what I said?
- Good girl!
- We don't play with our food, we eat our food.
- OK, I'm going to count to 3
- Do you want a time out?
- Can you take it down a notch? Inside voice please.
- Good listening monkey!
- Do you need to do pee pee on the potty?
- Fait nice do do (this is part of our sleep time ritual). I'll check on you soon (this is another part of our sleep time ritual). Back in your room (also part of the sleep time ritual)!
- Please don't touch your brother that way
- Please stop whining!
- Can you wait just a minute/Can you give me a second?
- I'll be right back
- Is that how you talk to me?
And my favorite:
- I love you SO MUCH!!!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Cleavage
The main female character in the book I am reading, Meri, is pregnant. She is not enjoying the experience and is very apprehensive about motherhood. It is a negativity you don't usually see in a happily married and relatively successful fictional character.
I read a chapter in bed last night (which was delicious). Meri explained that she had never had the need to wear a bra and was now, in her pregnant state, having to wear a bra all the time. She said she thought having cleavage was only good for catching sweat and crumbs. I laughed when I read this as she obviously has no idea what she is in for.
Earlier this week I went to pick up the little guy from his Bumbo chair in the kitchen (where I place him for brief moments when I need to do/get something quickly). As I hoisted him into the air, he managed to produce a huge spit up which spilled directly into the front of my shirt. It quickly pooled in the cleavage of my nursing bra. Nice. I wiped it up with a paper towel and headed outside with the babe and the little guy as planned. As my husband said later that evening when I told him the story, "Hard core Mommy."
Anyway, my very dear friend wrote a great post on her blog about how you have to surrender to motherhood. I've been thinking about the idea of surrendering since reading her entry and I think it has a lot to do with just accepting that you have spit up in your bra.
I read a chapter in bed last night (which was delicious). Meri explained that she had never had the need to wear a bra and was now, in her pregnant state, having to wear a bra all the time. She said she thought having cleavage was only good for catching sweat and crumbs. I laughed when I read this as she obviously has no idea what she is in for.
Earlier this week I went to pick up the little guy from his Bumbo chair in the kitchen (where I place him for brief moments when I need to do/get something quickly). As I hoisted him into the air, he managed to produce a huge spit up which spilled directly into the front of my shirt. It quickly pooled in the cleavage of my nursing bra. Nice. I wiped it up with a paper towel and headed outside with the babe and the little guy as planned. As my husband said later that evening when I told him the story, "Hard core Mommy."
Anyway, my very dear friend wrote a great post on her blog about how you have to surrender to motherhood. I've been thinking about the idea of surrendering since reading her entry and I think it has a lot to do with just accepting that you have spit up in your bra.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Some Days Are Better Than Others
Yesterday was one of those days I wished I was single and childless.
Maybe that's an exaggeration. I wished I could travel back in time to my more care free days and just be alone and independent of the needs of anyone else.
My little family had a Sunday filled with one negative thing after the other.
First example: a very full diaper leaking all over our clean sheets, and sinking through to our very lovely Tempur-Pedic mattress. Daddy was on clean up duty and he did an amazingly thorough job (which involved a lot of laundry).
Second example: the babe intentionally hit the side of my head in a fit of frustration and knocked out my snazzy cubic zirconia earring. We then had to search endlessly to find it as we feared the babe may swallow it and puncture something vital. I have decided to buy smaller earrings with very secure backings to avoid any similar drama in the future.
I'll spare you details on the other examples of negativity.
These events kind of built on each other and tumbled down on us until we were sunk under the pressure.
By the end of the day, my husband and I were really wishing we either had a back yard we could throw the babe in so she could play while we sat on our duffs reading, or lived by our parents so we could drop her off and enjoy some quiet time away from her toddler antics.
Despite all the annoyances, as I sat and watched my husband read to the babe before bed, my heart got all mushy and warm. If I were alone and independent of their needs, I would never understand that cozy and yummy feeling I got listening to my little family read I Know a Rhino.
Fast forward to this morning. I was already flustered with the babe by 9:30 am, and wasn't sure how we were going to make it through the day (that warm mushy feeling I just mentioned was long gone). As I was over due to have blood taken, I decided to bite the bullet and get it over with. I got us all dressed and headed down to the clinic.
I am not a person who is good with needles and have been known to pass out having blood taken. I also wasn't thrilled about doing it with the babe in tow, but figured I had to be a grown up about it. To keep her in good spirits I gave her a hand full of raisins (she loves them). As I am a big wimp, I held her other hand to give me strength as the blood was drawn. She listened to me ramble on trying to distract myself and she didn't break eye contact or start whining. I think she was very cool about the whole experience and I was glad to have my little hand holding buddy with me after all.
Maybe that's an exaggeration. I wished I could travel back in time to my more care free days and just be alone and independent of the needs of anyone else.
My little family had a Sunday filled with one negative thing after the other.
First example: a very full diaper leaking all over our clean sheets, and sinking through to our very lovely Tempur-Pedic mattress. Daddy was on clean up duty and he did an amazingly thorough job (which involved a lot of laundry).
Second example: the babe intentionally hit the side of my head in a fit of frustration and knocked out my snazzy cubic zirconia earring. We then had to search endlessly to find it as we feared the babe may swallow it and puncture something vital. I have decided to buy smaller earrings with very secure backings to avoid any similar drama in the future.
I'll spare you details on the other examples of negativity.
These events kind of built on each other and tumbled down on us until we were sunk under the pressure.
By the end of the day, my husband and I were really wishing we either had a back yard we could throw the babe in so she could play while we sat on our duffs reading, or lived by our parents so we could drop her off and enjoy some quiet time away from her toddler antics.
Despite all the annoyances, as I sat and watched my husband read to the babe before bed, my heart got all mushy and warm. If I were alone and independent of their needs, I would never understand that cozy and yummy feeling I got listening to my little family read I Know a Rhino.
Fast forward to this morning. I was already flustered with the babe by 9:30 am, and wasn't sure how we were going to make it through the day (that warm mushy feeling I just mentioned was long gone). As I was over due to have blood taken, I decided to bite the bullet and get it over with. I got us all dressed and headed down to the clinic.
I am not a person who is good with needles and have been known to pass out having blood taken. I also wasn't thrilled about doing it with the babe in tow, but figured I had to be a grown up about it. To keep her in good spirits I gave her a hand full of raisins (she loves them). As I am a big wimp, I held her other hand to give me strength as the blood was drawn. She listened to me ramble on trying to distract myself and she didn't break eye contact or start whining. I think she was very cool about the whole experience and I was glad to have my little hand holding buddy with me after all.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
The Down Low
I was shopping at Target the other day and had the coolest experience. I was in the elevator with the babe when another woman jumped in at the last second. She recognized me and asked if we knew each other from the pool last summer. Indeed, we had had a great chat one sunny afternoon about the complexities and challenges of motherhood. She was pregnant at the time, and I remember giving her a bit of the down low on having your first baby.
After briefly chatting about her son (who is 9 months old already!) and the babe, she did something I wasn't expecting. She thanked me! She said I was the only person who had told her how badly motherhood "kicks you in the butt." It was obviously a conversation she remembered, and I was so pleased to hear I had helped her out a bit.
There are so many things people don't tell you about motherhood, and I'm glad I was able to shed a little bit of light on the experience for another woman. Hopefully this blog does that for some other folks as well.
After briefly chatting about her son (who is 9 months old already!) and the babe, she did something I wasn't expecting. She thanked me! She said I was the only person who had told her how badly motherhood "kicks you in the butt." It was obviously a conversation she remembered, and I was so pleased to hear I had helped her out a bit.
There are so many things people don't tell you about motherhood, and I'm glad I was able to shed a little bit of light on the experience for another woman. Hopefully this blog does that for some other folks as well.
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