Each year when we celebrate your birth, it is a joyous affirmation for me. An affirmation that I did indeed carry you inside me, nurturing your growth. I labored fast and efficiently with you, bringing you into this world on a clear crisp November day. I remember your loud cries and big eyes as if it were yesterday. I can still clearly see your father's face as he saw you for the first time. His smile lit up the world. My relief at holding you was palpable, the tension of the previous moments gone. I remember the details of your birth; how much it changed me, how it empowered me, how it put me on the path to work in the birth community.
6 years ago you made me a mama. I look at you now and I could burst with pride. I see a strong-willed, sweet, affectionate, spunky little girl. I love your passion, your tender heart, your fire. I love your artistic style, your flair. You are so much like me and yet so very much your own person. It is surreal to have you, my first baby, the walking/talking extension of myself, forging your own path. I love that curling up in mama's lap can still make everything ok.
On your special day my love, let me tell you my wishes for your life.
I wish for you to always hold on to that warrior spirit you have.
I wish for you to always be aware of your value.
I wish for you to set goals and follow through.
I wish for you to fail sometimes, so you can learn.
I wish for you to find your passion.
I wish for you to be kind and gentle until you need to be fierce.
I wish for you to know you have roots and wings.
I love you, my sweet Punky girl. Thank you for teaching me to be a mama.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Keepsakes
My family has always been one of collectors. Everyone has their own thing; plates, hippos, figurines, books. But first and foremost, we collect pictures to document our memories. We celebrate any and everything! Birthdays and Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving are all big family gatherings. Oh, its Flag Day??? Well heck, let us have a cookout!! Each year at Christmas there is an unofficial contest to see who makes my grandmother cry first with the most sentimental gift. We are criers. Happy criers, sad criers, angry criers. No shame in our game; we are a passionate, expressive family. I know no other way to be :) And I love it.
So this weekend I received some pretty awful news. A huge portion of very sentimental keepsakes and pictures from my childhood was destroyed. Baby pictures, my mother's wedding album, my deeply loved Raggedy Ann doll, books, my highchair- all destroyed. It has taken me the last 48 hours to process this information. To say that I am devastated would be a gross understatement. My bronzed baby shoes-gone. My only pictures of my deceased grandmother-gone. My mother's beloved Christmas decorations-gone. I still can't even wrap my brain around it. I imagine that most people would be really upset by this, but to have this happen to the sweet, sentimental woman who raised me is just beyond comprehension. My heart aches for her; a physical ache. Of course I am sad for the loss of those things, especially my Raggedy Ann. She was a gift from my Aunt Rhonda on the day I was born, and Aunt Rhonda passed away when I was 8. I slept with her every day until I went away to college. I stitched her up myself as a child after my dog ripped a huge hole in her. I wanted to keep her forever. But as a mother myself now, I grieve most especially for my mother. Losing all of those keepsakes that marked my childhood has broken her heart. I can take a lot of pain, I have dealt with my share over my years. But for my mom to hurt??? Oh no, that makes me crazy. I want to rage and scream and punch and kick. Without going into details, this loss of our keepsakes was no accident; it was callous and intentional. It is like a knife in the chest. I am sad for me, but I am furious for my mother.
I know that those things were just "things". I know that we still have the memories. I know that nothing on earth is more important than my family; I would rather have time with my mother than any keepsake in the world. But this is a tough one for me to deal with. While we are super expressive and effusive with our love, I hold on to my pain. I deal with it on my own. This post is my way of trying to deal with my anger and hurt. It is also a shout out to my mom, to let her know how sorry I am that she has to deal with this. I hold my mother in the highest of regards; she is my idol and inspiration, always. I do my best to emulate her as a person and as a mother. So hold that head up high Ma! No matter what happens, no one can take away our memories. We have been through worse. It will take me a while to deal with this, to comprehend this loss. But in the end, having her in my life is what truly matters.
So this weekend I received some pretty awful news. A huge portion of very sentimental keepsakes and pictures from my childhood was destroyed. Baby pictures, my mother's wedding album, my deeply loved Raggedy Ann doll, books, my highchair- all destroyed. It has taken me the last 48 hours to process this information. To say that I am devastated would be a gross understatement. My bronzed baby shoes-gone. My only pictures of my deceased grandmother-gone. My mother's beloved Christmas decorations-gone. I still can't even wrap my brain around it. I imagine that most people would be really upset by this, but to have this happen to the sweet, sentimental woman who raised me is just beyond comprehension. My heart aches for her; a physical ache. Of course I am sad for the loss of those things, especially my Raggedy Ann. She was a gift from my Aunt Rhonda on the day I was born, and Aunt Rhonda passed away when I was 8. I slept with her every day until I went away to college. I stitched her up myself as a child after my dog ripped a huge hole in her. I wanted to keep her forever. But as a mother myself now, I grieve most especially for my mother. Losing all of those keepsakes that marked my childhood has broken her heart. I can take a lot of pain, I have dealt with my share over my years. But for my mom to hurt??? Oh no, that makes me crazy. I want to rage and scream and punch and kick. Without going into details, this loss of our keepsakes was no accident; it was callous and intentional. It is like a knife in the chest. I am sad for me, but I am furious for my mother.
I know that those things were just "things". I know that we still have the memories. I know that nothing on earth is more important than my family; I would rather have time with my mother than any keepsake in the world. But this is a tough one for me to deal with. While we are super expressive and effusive with our love, I hold on to my pain. I deal with it on my own. This post is my way of trying to deal with my anger and hurt. It is also a shout out to my mom, to let her know how sorry I am that she has to deal with this. I hold my mother in the highest of regards; she is my idol and inspiration, always. I do my best to emulate her as a person and as a mother. So hold that head up high Ma! No matter what happens, no one can take away our memories. We have been through worse. It will take me a while to deal with this, to comprehend this loss. But in the end, having her in my life is what truly matters.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
7 year itch
On the eve of my 7 year anniversary I am reflecting on my life in general. And damn, it is awesome!! I cannot believe it has been 7 years since I married the man of my dreams and 9 years that he has been a part of my life. I am one lucky bitch ;)
As some of you know, this is not my first marriage. I married my college sweetheart at the tender age of 21, after dating only him through all 4 years of college. We were married for 4 years. It was not what I would call a partnership; more of a dictatorship. To be fair, I entered into this knowingly, but despite my best efforts, it only got worse. It was shocking to our friends when we split because they thought we were the "perfect" couple. Oh what goes on behind closed doors... Looking back on things and comparing it to my marriage now, all I can do is shake my head. I do NOT regret that marriage; I learned so very much from it. I believe God puts us on a path for a reason, and that part of my life was vital to who I am now.
But let me say this: my marriage is a gift from God, but it is also hard work. We work HARD to take care of one another and our children. We do not sit idly by and let problems fester. We value one another, we tell each other how much we need each other, we demonstrate our love loudly. We worship together, we worship each other, we love our kids unconditionally. We make the choice EVERY FRICKIN DAY to work hard on our relationship. I have never been more secure in a relationship with someone than I am with Russell. He is amazing on every level and I make damn sure I tell him that. He treats me like a valuable prize. He treats me like the smartest woman alive. He treats me like his equal. He treats me like I am strong. He treats me like I am beautiful. He earns my respect every day. I am madly, deeply in love with him and I still get butterflies when I see him. Am I lucky? Hells yes. Do I deserve it? Hells yes.
Thank you babe, for all that you do and all that you are.
Happy anniversary.
As some of you know, this is not my first marriage. I married my college sweetheart at the tender age of 21, after dating only him through all 4 years of college. We were married for 4 years. It was not what I would call a partnership; more of a dictatorship. To be fair, I entered into this knowingly, but despite my best efforts, it only got worse. It was shocking to our friends when we split because they thought we were the "perfect" couple. Oh what goes on behind closed doors... Looking back on things and comparing it to my marriage now, all I can do is shake my head. I do NOT regret that marriage; I learned so very much from it. I believe God puts us on a path for a reason, and that part of my life was vital to who I am now.
But let me say this: my marriage is a gift from God, but it is also hard work. We work HARD to take care of one another and our children. We do not sit idly by and let problems fester. We value one another, we tell each other how much we need each other, we demonstrate our love loudly. We worship together, we worship each other, we love our kids unconditionally. We make the choice EVERY FRICKIN DAY to work hard on our relationship. I have never been more secure in a relationship with someone than I am with Russell. He is amazing on every level and I make damn sure I tell him that. He treats me like a valuable prize. He treats me like the smartest woman alive. He treats me like his equal. He treats me like I am strong. He treats me like I am beautiful. He earns my respect every day. I am madly, deeply in love with him and I still get butterflies when I see him. Am I lucky? Hells yes. Do I deserve it? Hells yes.
Thank you babe, for all that you do and all that you are.
Happy anniversary.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Reflections
From just a thought, just an idea in my mind, you grew into a tiny being inside me. I carried you, nurtured you, loved you. I was in awe that you had been created.
On the day you were born, I grew. I grew into a mother instantaneously and knew my mission in life was to protect you. To love and to guide, to keep you grounded and give you wings.
You grew into a toddler and began venturing outside the safe harbor of my arms. You explored and learned and developed strong attitudes and opinions. I watched, terrified and thrilled.
I grew into the mother of a preschooler. A sweet, loving wild-child, who threw her whole heart into absolutely everything she tried. I would burst with pride at every accomplishment; dancing and gymnastics, writing your name. I saw pieces of me and of your father, saw the magic of the two of us creating the walking/talking embodiment of the next generation of our family.
You've grown into a Kindergartener. A school-aged child. You are branching out on your own adventures, the beginnings of your own path in life. This is the time when you will be making friends I don't know, learning things from someone other than me. I am excited and scared in equal measure. How hard this is!! How amazing you are!! I feel like I am sending my heart out into the world.
We have grown together, you and I. I have taught you many things, but you have taught me many more. You are growing up and I am growing stronger. You are growing wings and I am growing braver. You are growing your mind and I am growing prouder of you each day.
As you begin this next monumental phase of your life my daughter, please remember:
"I'll like you forever, I'll love you for always.
As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."
On the day you were born, I grew. I grew into a mother instantaneously and knew my mission in life was to protect you. To love and to guide, to keep you grounded and give you wings.
You grew into a toddler and began venturing outside the safe harbor of my arms. You explored and learned and developed strong attitudes and opinions. I watched, terrified and thrilled.
I grew into the mother of a preschooler. A sweet, loving wild-child, who threw her whole heart into absolutely everything she tried. I would burst with pride at every accomplishment; dancing and gymnastics, writing your name. I saw pieces of me and of your father, saw the magic of the two of us creating the walking/talking embodiment of the next generation of our family.
You've grown into a Kindergartener. A school-aged child. You are branching out on your own adventures, the beginnings of your own path in life. This is the time when you will be making friends I don't know, learning things from someone other than me. I am excited and scared in equal measure. How hard this is!! How amazing you are!! I feel like I am sending my heart out into the world.
We have grown together, you and I. I have taught you many things, but you have taught me many more. You are growing up and I am growing stronger. You are growing wings and I am growing braver. You are growing your mind and I am growing prouder of you each day.
As you begin this next monumental phase of your life my daughter, please remember:
"I'll like you forever, I'll love you for always.
As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Roy turns 4!
Holy crap, it cannot be true. My baby cannot be about to turn 4!! What?? That is officially "big boy" status. Obviously it is a bittersweet time for me. Growing up is a good thing, but it also freaks me out because I feel like time is just going faster and faster. I have been nostalgic all day, thinking of my little man and all of the stages he has gone through and will go through in the future. One of the best things about being a mom is watching your child learn new things; one of the other best things is learning about yourself. In honor of Roy's 4th, I want to list some of the things he has taught me.
1. Birth is a tandem experience.
My birth with Stella was induced, and had way more interventions than were necessary. While it was of course still beautiful and amazing and life changing, it was more like something that was happening "to me" as opposed to something I was an active participant in. It is the reason I became a doula and the reason I decided to have a natural birth with Roy. Roy's birth was not only natural, it was very clear that he and I were working together to get him out into the world. That my friends, is a game-changer in the way this mama looked at birth. Obviously it is up to each mama to decide what is right for her and her baby, but when people ask why on earth I would want an unmedicated birth, I immediately think of how amazing it was to truly know that my baby was doing what he was supposed to do and that we were in in together, working towards a common goal.
2. Intuition is not an old wives' tale.
I was due Sunday August 2nd. I worked until Friday July 31st, two days before my due date. People were a little freaked to see a hairstylist still on her feet at 40 weeks. I felt great!!! But I KNEW he was coming that Tuesday. I just did. I knew I would work out my schedule, have a couple days to rest, and he would be born on the 4th. I was already dilated and effaced pretty well at my 39 week checkup, but I wasn't having contractions or any other "signs". But I knew when he was coming. I woke up at 5am that Tuesday, having good strong contractions. I let Russell sleep another hour, then woke him up and told him it was happening. I was totally calm. Intuition is no joke.
3. I can balance WAY more than I thought I was capable of.
Two kids. Full time job. Enough said.
4. I LOVE having a boy and a girl.
5. Testosterone-fueled dudes still like to cuddle.
Ok, really his daddy taught me this, but still, Roy reinforces it. I have NEVER met such a "DUDE" who is soooooooo sweet and cuddly and affectionate.
There are things that I learn every day from my children. I hope that they learn as much from me as I do from them. I look forward to each and every year with them! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go cry into my pillow because my baby isn't a baby anymore.
1. Birth is a tandem experience.
My birth with Stella was induced, and had way more interventions than were necessary. While it was of course still beautiful and amazing and life changing, it was more like something that was happening "to me" as opposed to something I was an active participant in. It is the reason I became a doula and the reason I decided to have a natural birth with Roy. Roy's birth was not only natural, it was very clear that he and I were working together to get him out into the world. That my friends, is a game-changer in the way this mama looked at birth. Obviously it is up to each mama to decide what is right for her and her baby, but when people ask why on earth I would want an unmedicated birth, I immediately think of how amazing it was to truly know that my baby was doing what he was supposed to do and that we were in in together, working towards a common goal.
2. Intuition is not an old wives' tale.
I was due Sunday August 2nd. I worked until Friday July 31st, two days before my due date. People were a little freaked to see a hairstylist still on her feet at 40 weeks. I felt great!!! But I KNEW he was coming that Tuesday. I just did. I knew I would work out my schedule, have a couple days to rest, and he would be born on the 4th. I was already dilated and effaced pretty well at my 39 week checkup, but I wasn't having contractions or any other "signs". But I knew when he was coming. I woke up at 5am that Tuesday, having good strong contractions. I let Russell sleep another hour, then woke him up and told him it was happening. I was totally calm. Intuition is no joke.
3. I can balance WAY more than I thought I was capable of.
Two kids. Full time job. Enough said.
4. I LOVE having a boy and a girl.
5. Testosterone-fueled dudes still like to cuddle.
Ok, really his daddy taught me this, but still, Roy reinforces it. I have NEVER met such a "DUDE" who is soooooooo sweet and cuddly and affectionate.
There are things that I learn every day from my children. I hope that they learn as much from me as I do from them. I look forward to each and every year with them! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go cry into my pillow because my baby isn't a baby anymore.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Count your blessings
As all parents know, kids go through phases. Sometimes they are adorable, sometimes they make you want to scream. Sometimes you have no idea how to handle them. We are currently in a phase with Roy that has had me stumped. For lack of a better term, I will refer to it as the "Mama's Boy" phase. My little man has always been super attached to me, which is awesome. He was an avid, round the clock nurser, both for comfort and for hunger :) Man, I would nurse that kid while I did everything from cooking dinner to eating dinner. Yes, COOKING dinner. But I was fortunate that I never felt "touched out" with either of my children as some moms have had to deal with. You know, that feeling of just needing to not be touched by anyone, for any reason, because you have had a little one attached to you all freaking day. But now, for the past few weeks, my little man has had me feeling a little touched out. He will kiss me about 1000 times a day, he tells me he loves me about 2000 times a day, he touches me all day long, he wants to sleep in our bed, he has made my arm sore from kissing it in the same spot all day, he will kiss my feet if he is sitting near me. Now don't get me wrong, this is a good problem to have. I do not, in any way, want to discourage him from expressing his emotions, his love, his affection. Boys in our culture are told so often to downplay emotion; they get reinforcement for being tough, not for expressing emotion. I refuse to stifle his emotions. BUT... it has entered a phase that can make me a little crazy. If he gets up before me in the morning, he doesn't want me to go for a run. He wants to run down the hall and jump in bed and snuggle. Great, but I have to, want to, need to go for my morning run. So then I have to deal with a meltdown. We have tried to explain that everyone has "a bubble" of personal space, but I don't think he cares :) He does not accept Daddy snuggles as a substitute. He does not want to play in his room. He wants Mommy.
So this morning, after he freaked out, I asked him if he could tell me WHY he was so upset about me going for a run. He said he didn't want to be left behind. Wow. Is that what he has been worried about??? He is so mature and verbal for his age that I sometimes forget that he is only 3 (almost 4!). All I had to to was ask him and he did a really good job of explaining how he was feeling. I calmly told him that I would be back soon, that I would ALWAYS come back, and that I wasn't leaving him, just leaving the house for a little bit. He totally accepted it.
I went for my run, and as I often do, focused on the issue that had been bothering me. I pour myself into my running, body mind and soul. And I came back with such a clear head, such a better understanding of my little one and how to handle this issue. I realized how fortunate I am, how fortunate WE are, to have such a sweet, loving soul as our son. I realized (like I didn't already know!) how truly blessed I am. There are so many people who would love to have the opportunity to hold a child of their own, so many people who would love to have so much love in their lives. I just needed a change of perspective. I needed to count my blessings, and you'd better believe my kids are at the top of the list.
So this morning, after he freaked out, I asked him if he could tell me WHY he was so upset about me going for a run. He said he didn't want to be left behind. Wow. Is that what he has been worried about??? He is so mature and verbal for his age that I sometimes forget that he is only 3 (almost 4!). All I had to to was ask him and he did a really good job of explaining how he was feeling. I calmly told him that I would be back soon, that I would ALWAYS come back, and that I wasn't leaving him, just leaving the house for a little bit. He totally accepted it.
I went for my run, and as I often do, focused on the issue that had been bothering me. I pour myself into my running, body mind and soul. And I came back with such a clear head, such a better understanding of my little one and how to handle this issue. I realized how fortunate I am, how fortunate WE are, to have such a sweet, loving soul as our son. I realized (like I didn't already know!) how truly blessed I am. There are so many people who would love to have the opportunity to hold a child of their own, so many people who would love to have so much love in their lives. I just needed a change of perspective. I needed to count my blessings, and you'd better believe my kids are at the top of the list.
Monday, June 17, 2013
All the cool kids are doing it
As (mostly) mature adults, parents have usually come to terms with who they are, where their interests lie and in general what their personalities are. One of our biggest jobs is helping our kids figure out who they are; encouraging them to explore new things, supporting their own distinct selves, discover what makes them happy. But we all have our own prejudices that we can't help but pass on to our kids, opinions about things that aren't really important but that we have decided to take a stand on. Things that determine whether you are "that kind" of person or "this kind" of person. For example, I totally detest Crocs. I hate those things. I see kids where them all the time, I hear parents extol the comfortability factor, the ease factor- yadda yadda yadda. I get it. But there is no way in hell I am letting my kids wear those ugly things. We are not "crocs people". Silly?? Totally. But there it is, and I am NOT backing down from it. Russell and I have our own biased ideas and rules: no KidzBop music, no Power Rangers, no stickers allowed on windows, no McDonalds, no saying the words "butt" (its a booty) or "shut up", I don't think its funny for kids to curse. All parents have defined what kind of people they are and where they draw the line about all kinds of things. And I am not referring to important issues like religion or morality or spirituality. I'm talking about the day to day crap that our kids are exposed to every day; you know, game changers like fashion and music ;)
Along these lines is a concept that has really been bothering me, something that I am trying really hard not to fall victim to in spite of my above-mentioned prejudices. I see a lot of parents who seem to be overly concerned about their kids being "cool". I don't mean cool like popular in school, I mean cool like the parents want to have little mini versions of themselves. Say if mom and dad are old school punk rockers, they want little mini punk rockers. Comic book geeks only want their kids to be into superheroes, techies want kids who are way into design and technology, jocks want star athletes etc. Of course our kids will be influenced by what Russell and I like, but I don't want them to feel like our interests have to be their interests. As much as I may be annoyed by some kid shows, I LOVE that they want to watch them because it means they are still little kids. I want them to hang onto that sweet innocence as long as possible. I want them to think Dora and Diego are cool and believe that the Wonder Pets can really fly in the Fly Boat. In short, I don't want them to grow up too quickly. I don't want them to become jaded or judgemental or too worldly before they have to. So while I won't pretend that I am not thrilled when they ask to watch Star Wars and that they know all of the Marvel comics villains, I don't want to push them out of that precious innocence of childhood too quickly all for the sake of relinquishing "baby" things that aren't cool.
As my kids will both be starting school this fall (kindergarten and pre-k) I am forced to accept that they are growing up. They will be making their own choices more and more, they will be defining themselves more, they will be exposed to so many new people and ideas. And that is great! I am happy about that. But of course I worry about issues like peer pressure and bullies and other unsavory influences. Not much I can do about all the yucky people they will encounter throughout their lives; the only thing we can do is give them the best foundation that we possibly can and continue to support them as they discover themselves.
Along these lines is a concept that has really been bothering me, something that I am trying really hard not to fall victim to in spite of my above-mentioned prejudices. I see a lot of parents who seem to be overly concerned about their kids being "cool". I don't mean cool like popular in school, I mean cool like the parents want to have little mini versions of themselves. Say if mom and dad are old school punk rockers, they want little mini punk rockers. Comic book geeks only want their kids to be into superheroes, techies want kids who are way into design and technology, jocks want star athletes etc. Of course our kids will be influenced by what Russell and I like, but I don't want them to feel like our interests have to be their interests. As much as I may be annoyed by some kid shows, I LOVE that they want to watch them because it means they are still little kids. I want them to hang onto that sweet innocence as long as possible. I want them to think Dora and Diego are cool and believe that the Wonder Pets can really fly in the Fly Boat. In short, I don't want them to grow up too quickly. I don't want them to become jaded or judgemental or too worldly before they have to. So while I won't pretend that I am not thrilled when they ask to watch Star Wars and that they know all of the Marvel comics villains, I don't want to push them out of that precious innocence of childhood too quickly all for the sake of relinquishing "baby" things that aren't cool.
As my kids will both be starting school this fall (kindergarten and pre-k) I am forced to accept that they are growing up. They will be making their own choices more and more, they will be defining themselves more, they will be exposed to so many new people and ideas. And that is great! I am happy about that. But of course I worry about issues like peer pressure and bullies and other unsavory influences. Not much I can do about all the yucky people they will encounter throughout their lives; the only thing we can do is give them the best foundation that we possibly can and continue to support them as they discover themselves.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Every moment is not precious
It is a refrain parents of young kids hear all the time: "Treasure every moment! It goes by so fast!" "They will only be young once, enjoy each and every moment!" And part of that is totally true; it does go by so fast. They do grow up so quickly you almost can't keep up. You blink and they have morphed into a new being. But part of that sentiment strikes me as utterly false. You don't HAVE to treasure every moment. And it doesn't make you a bad parent if there are moments you would rather hadn't happened, moments that you would rather sweep under the rug, moments that you are all too happy to forget.
Parenting is hard. Mind-numbingly, bone-wearying exhaustingly hard. Not always, mind you. Sometimes it is the most joyous, easy going lovely thing I have ever done. Those moments when Stella brings me wildflowers she has picked or when Roy just wants to kiss me over and over are the moments I live for. There is absolutely nothing like it and nothing in my life has ever been as satisfying and rewarding until I became a mommy. Not that my life wasn't good before, but mommyhood brought things to a new level of awesome.
But there are times...
Times when my patience can be pushed to new limits. Times when I just need a break. Times when I say things I wish I hadn't said. Times when no amount of gentle discipline can tame the savage preschooler. Times when I have worked all day at my job, worked all evening at home and all I want is an easy bedtime. Times when I have dealt with one tantrum too many. Times when I am so tired of repeating the same rules day in and day out. Times when mommy isn't her best and the kids aren't either.
Don't get me wrong; those times are the exception rather than the rule. I wrote before about how I have made the choice not to spank my kids and I stick by that rule. But that doesn't mean I don't lose my temper and flip out sometimes. And those times are the ones I will not treasure. Those times when I watch my beautiful children turn into crazy people. Those times when my daughter says I don't like her anymore because I punished her or when my son tells me to shut up. The times when I have to follow through on taking away a privilege because my kids didn't follow the rules. The times when I agonize over every decision, convinced that I am ruining my children. The times I cry myself to sleep because I am worried that I hurt my baby's feelings. Those times I will not treasure.
I will never forget holding my babies, watching them breathe, feeling their soft soft skin. I will never forget their births, their birthdays, their birthday cakes, their birthday wishes. I will always remember their innocence and sweetness. I will forever love memories that we make together, but I will not beat myself up over the fact that it isn't all rainbows and lollipops. I work extremely hard to raise my children to be self-sufficient, independent, conscientious, courteous and kind. That doesn't come without its' fair share of bumps and bruises along the way. So don't feel bad if, like me, you need to vent every once in a while. If you need time away, time alone. Just because you don't treasure EVERY moment doesn't mean you don't absolutely adore all the good ones. After all, parenting is only hard if you're doing it right.
Parenting is hard. Mind-numbingly, bone-wearying exhaustingly hard. Not always, mind you. Sometimes it is the most joyous, easy going lovely thing I have ever done. Those moments when Stella brings me wildflowers she has picked or when Roy just wants to kiss me over and over are the moments I live for. There is absolutely nothing like it and nothing in my life has ever been as satisfying and rewarding until I became a mommy. Not that my life wasn't good before, but mommyhood brought things to a new level of awesome.
But there are times...
Times when my patience can be pushed to new limits. Times when I just need a break. Times when I say things I wish I hadn't said. Times when no amount of gentle discipline can tame the savage preschooler. Times when I have worked all day at my job, worked all evening at home and all I want is an easy bedtime. Times when I have dealt with one tantrum too many. Times when I am so tired of repeating the same rules day in and day out. Times when mommy isn't her best and the kids aren't either.
Don't get me wrong; those times are the exception rather than the rule. I wrote before about how I have made the choice not to spank my kids and I stick by that rule. But that doesn't mean I don't lose my temper and flip out sometimes. And those times are the ones I will not treasure. Those times when I watch my beautiful children turn into crazy people. Those times when my daughter says I don't like her anymore because I punished her or when my son tells me to shut up. The times when I have to follow through on taking away a privilege because my kids didn't follow the rules. The times when I agonize over every decision, convinced that I am ruining my children. The times I cry myself to sleep because I am worried that I hurt my baby's feelings. Those times I will not treasure.
I will never forget holding my babies, watching them breathe, feeling their soft soft skin. I will never forget their births, their birthdays, their birthday cakes, their birthday wishes. I will always remember their innocence and sweetness. I will forever love memories that we make together, but I will not beat myself up over the fact that it isn't all rainbows and lollipops. I work extremely hard to raise my children to be self-sufficient, independent, conscientious, courteous and kind. That doesn't come without its' fair share of bumps and bruises along the way. So don't feel bad if, like me, you need to vent every once in a while. If you need time away, time alone. Just because you don't treasure EVERY moment doesn't mean you don't absolutely adore all the good ones. After all, parenting is only hard if you're doing it right.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Hard-workin' man
I am blessed to have one of those husbands who can fix anything. He is super mechanically inclined, tech-savvy and can teach himself how to do any type of project that he is interested in. Several years ago he completely re-did our kitchen- and I mean completely. He ripped out everything down to the beams in the floor (yep, we could look directly into our basement from the kitchen), cut a hole in the wall to add a bar, closed up the old door, put in french doors, MADE concrete countertops, rebuilt the floor with slate tiles...you get the idea. That kitchen is amazing. The most amazing thing is that he had not done any of those projects before. Ever. He taught himself how to do all of it and if you have seen my kitchen, you know that shit is tight, yo! He is an appliance repair tech by trade and has been with the same company for about 8 years now and has a very loyal client following. He has also always done work on the side for friends, and built up a reputation among local restaurants and salons as the go -to guy for their appliance needs. Dude works hard.
It has been a dream of his for a long time to work for himself. Recently he got his own business started, in addition to continuing his full time job. He also has been doing appliance contract work for a friend, so he has been working THREE jobs. Starting early in the morning before his regular job and working late at night after. We haven't spent much time together because he has been so flipping busy, but I understand. I appreciate all the work that he is doing because he is doing it for us, his family. He has been working hard to put away money, build a solid clientele and lay the proper groundwork so that when he is on his own we won't have to take a financial hit while things get started. I am so in awe of his work ethic, his dedication.
He finally put in his 2 weeks notice this week. SCARY! But exciting. I know that this is this is the right move for him and for our family. I am so proud of him for making this decision and I am really happy that we will bet to see him more than a few minutes a day :) Throughout all of this he has made sure that the time he has been around has been spent snuggling and reading with the kids, encouraging me on my new projects and endeavors and basically making sure we know how much he loves us. He and I were able to get away for a quick 24 hour trip away Friday and that brief respite has recharged us both :) I love to shout that man's praises from the rooftops! Thanks babe, for all that you do.
It has been a dream of his for a long time to work for himself. Recently he got his own business started, in addition to continuing his full time job. He also has been doing appliance contract work for a friend, so he has been working THREE jobs. Starting early in the morning before his regular job and working late at night after. We haven't spent much time together because he has been so flipping busy, but I understand. I appreciate all the work that he is doing because he is doing it for us, his family. He has been working hard to put away money, build a solid clientele and lay the proper groundwork so that when he is on his own we won't have to take a financial hit while things get started. I am so in awe of his work ethic, his dedication.
He finally put in his 2 weeks notice this week. SCARY! But exciting. I know that this is this is the right move for him and for our family. I am so proud of him for making this decision and I am really happy that we will bet to see him more than a few minutes a day :) Throughout all of this he has made sure that the time he has been around has been spent snuggling and reading with the kids, encouraging me on my new projects and endeavors and basically making sure we know how much he loves us. He and I were able to get away for a quick 24 hour trip away Friday and that brief respite has recharged us both :) I love to shout that man's praises from the rooftops! Thanks babe, for all that you do.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
If you've read my blog, you know my mom and I are close. Really close. She had me at the age of 18, so we like to say we raised each other. There are many, many things that I have learned from her, many things for which to be grateful, but there is one in particular that has shaped me into who I am today: my love for reading. According to my mom, I was reading by the age of 4. Not just memorizing ( I was doing that too) but actually reading books by myself. I cannot remember a time in my life when I didn't have a book I was carrying around. I HAVE to have a book to read. I devour books. As does my mom. Starting when I was in elementary school, my mom and I would go to the library every 2 weeks and each check out 4 or 5 books. We would read our own books and then swap and read each other's books. Yep, 8-10 books in 2 weeks. And not "kid" books, but books that were a couple hundred pages each. We read everything. Biographies, fantasy, history, romance, mystery. She instilled a true love of the written word into my very being. I read encyclopedias and law text books when I had read everything else we had in the house. Even she who had passed on this love to me would (still does) shake her head at me and laugh about how I always had my "head stuck in a book".
Books are my friends.
I have laughed, cried, loved and died reading books. I have explored worlds, fallen in love, felt palpable hatred. I have learned so much, taken so much. I have been so terrified I put a book away for a year before I could finish it (Stephen King's "It"). I have read a book so many times that I felt as though the characters were alive (Little Women, Jacob Have I Loved). I have yearned for places that don't exist and looked in cupboards and closets for magical worlds (C.S. Lewis and Tolkien). I have prayed that I would meet real fairies. I have wept at fictional deaths. I have felt my heart race at narrow escapes. I have dreamed of meeting the hero. I have tattoos inspired by works of literature. I am a book junkie.
I thank my mother for this love, this obsession. It has shaped me. I am blessed with the gift of reading and comprehending things very quickly. VERY quickly. I don't "skim" books, I soak in every word. Books are the only thing I collect. I am a purist; no e-reader for me. I want the weight and heft of a book in hand. I want to touch the pages, hug it to my chest. I want to OWN the books I love. I credit my mother with my ability to do well in high school, college, grad school. She taught me the love, the joy of reading, and I am passing that on to my kids. There is nothing like it. For me, it is how I escape but also how I expand, how I cope, how I process. It is me.
Thanks mom; you are the best. I will write a book for you one day.
Books are my friends.
I have laughed, cried, loved and died reading books. I have explored worlds, fallen in love, felt palpable hatred. I have learned so much, taken so much. I have been so terrified I put a book away for a year before I could finish it (Stephen King's "It"). I have read a book so many times that I felt as though the characters were alive (Little Women, Jacob Have I Loved). I have yearned for places that don't exist and looked in cupboards and closets for magical worlds (C.S. Lewis and Tolkien). I have prayed that I would meet real fairies. I have wept at fictional deaths. I have felt my heart race at narrow escapes. I have dreamed of meeting the hero. I have tattoos inspired by works of literature. I am a book junkie.
I thank my mother for this love, this obsession. It has shaped me. I am blessed with the gift of reading and comprehending things very quickly. VERY quickly. I don't "skim" books, I soak in every word. Books are the only thing I collect. I am a purist; no e-reader for me. I want the weight and heft of a book in hand. I want to touch the pages, hug it to my chest. I want to OWN the books I love. I credit my mother with my ability to do well in high school, college, grad school. She taught me the love, the joy of reading, and I am passing that on to my kids. There is nothing like it. For me, it is how I escape but also how I expand, how I cope, how I process. It is me.
Thanks mom; you are the best. I will write a book for you one day.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Just one of those days
This week has been exhausting.
I was really busy at work, which is a good thing, and I truly do love it. But being on my feet all day and then doing all the stuff that needs to be done to run our household is difficult sometimes. I have also been training for a 4 miler, my first race in about 14 years. It will also be the longest distance I have EVER run, so it is totally a challenge for me. I was looking forward to a chill weekend; all we HAD to do was gymnastics class Saturday morning and church Sunday morning. Awesome! Except I forgot about my cousin's baby shower in Dinwiddie. And we really needed to go grocery shopping. And Roy had to have a haircut. Ok, no problem, I can handle all of that. And then both kids woke up Saturday morning at 6am, with so much energy I could have sworn they had been drinking coffee all night long. Ok cool, I will grab a caramel macchiato and we will be on our way!
But...
It was just one of those days. Where the kids ask 1 million questions about a movie they have seen so many times they have it memorized. Where they need an explanation for everything I ask them to do. Where the smallest request is met with resistance. One of those days that brings demands from little tyrants every 5 seconds. Where a grocery store trip makes them so excited they are bursting at the seams and ask for everything on the shelves, from honey flavored yogurt to a mini charcoal grill. And are devastated if any requests get a "no". A day in which concepts that they are quite familiar with have suddenly become foreign. A day that our normal treats (a cake pop for Stella and gummies for Roy) are not satisfying enough. When sitting through a sibling's gymnastics class is the most boredom one can possibly imagine. When reading the same book three times in a row is not enough. When coloring is torturous. When an hour long car ride to Dinwiddie feels like 3 hours because they are tired but refuse to let their eyes close. A day when little ones must yell everything, must run in circles, must ignore mommy, must be put in time out 1000 times.
I was exhausted from NOT yelling at my kids. I have made a promise to them and to me that I will not yell. I can talk sternly, I can punish, but I refuse to yell. It just stresses me out. It makes me feel terrible while I am yelling and after I'm done. It may get their attention, but all it teaches them is that mommy is a bully. Granted, I am human, so I do make mistakes and I will find myself slipping back into the habit of yelling. And then I spend the next hour feeling immense mommy guilt. Because I truly, truly want to NOT yell. I am not passing judgement on any other parent who yells; this is a deeply personal thing for me. This is a rule I have set for myself because of how I feel, of how it affects me, of how it affects my family. I feel utterly and completely ridiculous and out of control when I yell. Like a total jerk who accomplishes nothing. So, no yelling. Hence the exhaustion from explaining and reasoning and referee-ing. From normal, everyday parenting. Usually I am up for the challenge, but sometimes, sheesh!!!!
Just one of those days...
I was really busy at work, which is a good thing, and I truly do love it. But being on my feet all day and then doing all the stuff that needs to be done to run our household is difficult sometimes. I have also been training for a 4 miler, my first race in about 14 years. It will also be the longest distance I have EVER run, so it is totally a challenge for me. I was looking forward to a chill weekend; all we HAD to do was gymnastics class Saturday morning and church Sunday morning. Awesome! Except I forgot about my cousin's baby shower in Dinwiddie. And we really needed to go grocery shopping. And Roy had to have a haircut. Ok, no problem, I can handle all of that. And then both kids woke up Saturday morning at 6am, with so much energy I could have sworn they had been drinking coffee all night long. Ok cool, I will grab a caramel macchiato and we will be on our way!
But...
It was just one of those days. Where the kids ask 1 million questions about a movie they have seen so many times they have it memorized. Where they need an explanation for everything I ask them to do. Where the smallest request is met with resistance. One of those days that brings demands from little tyrants every 5 seconds. Where a grocery store trip makes them so excited they are bursting at the seams and ask for everything on the shelves, from honey flavored yogurt to a mini charcoal grill. And are devastated if any requests get a "no". A day in which concepts that they are quite familiar with have suddenly become foreign. A day that our normal treats (a cake pop for Stella and gummies for Roy) are not satisfying enough. When sitting through a sibling's gymnastics class is the most boredom one can possibly imagine. When reading the same book three times in a row is not enough. When coloring is torturous. When an hour long car ride to Dinwiddie feels like 3 hours because they are tired but refuse to let their eyes close. A day when little ones must yell everything, must run in circles, must ignore mommy, must be put in time out 1000 times.
I was exhausted from NOT yelling at my kids. I have made a promise to them and to me that I will not yell. I can talk sternly, I can punish, but I refuse to yell. It just stresses me out. It makes me feel terrible while I am yelling and after I'm done. It may get their attention, but all it teaches them is that mommy is a bully. Granted, I am human, so I do make mistakes and I will find myself slipping back into the habit of yelling. And then I spend the next hour feeling immense mommy guilt. Because I truly, truly want to NOT yell. I am not passing judgement on any other parent who yells; this is a deeply personal thing for me. This is a rule I have set for myself because of how I feel, of how it affects me, of how it affects my family. I feel utterly and completely ridiculous and out of control when I yell. Like a total jerk who accomplishes nothing. So, no yelling. Hence the exhaustion from explaining and reasoning and referee-ing. From normal, everyday parenting. Usually I am up for the challenge, but sometimes, sheesh!!!!
Just one of those days...
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mother's Day
I love mommy's day. I always have. As a kid, I LOVED to make gifts for my mom; she deserved so much more than I could give her and she always made me feel like it was the best gift on earth :) I am one of the lucky ones who has always had a good relationship with my mother. None of that weird jealousy I have seen with other mother/daughter relationships, none of that "I hate you" crap, even in my asshole year of 15-16.
Now that I am a mom, I finally understand my mom so much more.
I understand why she cried so hard on my first day of school.
Why she came to every school activity.
Why she gave me chores to do every day.
Why she beat the crap out of a 6ft 2inch tall MAN who insulted me (true story, I'll tell ya that one later)
Why she always made her yummy brownies for all my school parties.
Why she kept that awful bookmark I made her when I was 7.
Why she never talked poorly about my dad after he left us.
Why she let me date, but gave me an early curfew.
Why she had me fill out all of my college scholarship/financial aid applications on my own.
Why she had total, absolute faith in my abilities to achieve my goals.
Why she never said "I told you so" when I screwed up big time.
Why she had so much fun taking me and my boyfriend and our friends to see Public Enemy, MC Lite and Queen Latifah in high school.
Why she agreed to be the chaperone for Beach Week two years in a row.
Why she accepts me for who I am and has never tried to change me.
Why she sacrificed so much for me from the age of 17 on.
There is something sacred about the mother/child relationship. I hope and pray every day to be as good of a mom to my kids as my mom is to me. Thank you mom, for the inspiration and example. I love you.
Now that I am a mom, I finally understand my mom so much more.
I understand why she cried so hard on my first day of school.
Why she came to every school activity.
Why she gave me chores to do every day.
Why she beat the crap out of a 6ft 2inch tall MAN who insulted me (true story, I'll tell ya that one later)
Why she always made her yummy brownies for all my school parties.
Why she kept that awful bookmark I made her when I was 7.
Why she never talked poorly about my dad after he left us.
Why she let me date, but gave me an early curfew.
Why she had me fill out all of my college scholarship/financial aid applications on my own.
Why she had total, absolute faith in my abilities to achieve my goals.
Why she never said "I told you so" when I screwed up big time.
Why she had so much fun taking me and my boyfriend and our friends to see Public Enemy, MC Lite and Queen Latifah in high school.
Why she agreed to be the chaperone for Beach Week two years in a row.
Why she accepts me for who I am and has never tried to change me.
Why she sacrificed so much for me from the age of 17 on.
There is something sacred about the mother/child relationship. I hope and pray every day to be as good of a mom to my kids as my mom is to me. Thank you mom, for the inspiration and example. I love you.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Hate
I am so very blessed in my life. I am constantly surrounded by love, from family and friends. I am strong and healthy. I have a great job that I love, our house is amazing. I am reminded daily of how fortunate I am. And I completely understand that a lot of people don't have it nearly as good as I do. But for eff's sake, I am so tired of all the hate that I see daily. I am just sick and tired of it, in all it's many forms. This is a ranty post, so get ready.
Don't believe in God? Don't believe in atheists? Don't believe in abortions? Don't believe in same-sex marriage? Don't believe in gay people adopting? Don't believe in formula feeding? Don't believe in homebirths or midwives? Don't drink? Don't eat meat? You co-sleep? You sleep train? You run? You got a divorce? You have tattoos? You are a feminist? You are a Democrat/Republican? You let your kids watch tv? You don't want kids? You want 20 kids? You want an epidural? You smoke weed? You eat veal? You are in an interracial relationship? You watch porn? You don't buy organic? You eat fast food? You shop at Whole Foods? You're a feminist? So be it!!!
I am just over it. Over all of the judgemental, biased, mean-spirited hateful crap that people spout off as fact. I am done with holier than thou attitudes, done with those people who think their way is the ONLY way. Done. I have never been one to bite my tongue, but now the gloves are even more off. I am trying really hard to teach my kids love and tolerance and patience and consideration and put-yourself-in-their-shoes. And along with that comes removing themselves from hateful people and situations. So if you suddenly find that I am just not communicating with you anymore, you can probably guess that I just made the decision to cut out some negativity in my life. No offense meant; I can't control how you feel about things, nor will I try. But I can control who I surround myself with. I cannot control who or what my children will encounter in their lives, but I can help them learn to deal with it in a constructive manner. If something doesn't work in your life, you move on. And I have too much that is good in my life to willingly let negative in.
Don't believe in God? Don't believe in atheists? Don't believe in abortions? Don't believe in same-sex marriage? Don't believe in gay people adopting? Don't believe in formula feeding? Don't believe in homebirths or midwives? Don't drink? Don't eat meat? You co-sleep? You sleep train? You run? You got a divorce? You have tattoos? You are a feminist? You are a Democrat/Republican? You let your kids watch tv? You don't want kids? You want 20 kids? You want an epidural? You smoke weed? You eat veal? You are in an interracial relationship? You watch porn? You don't buy organic? You eat fast food? You shop at Whole Foods? You're a feminist? So be it!!!
I am just over it. Over all of the judgemental, biased, mean-spirited hateful crap that people spout off as fact. I am done with holier than thou attitudes, done with those people who think their way is the ONLY way. Done. I have never been one to bite my tongue, but now the gloves are even more off. I am trying really hard to teach my kids love and tolerance and patience and consideration and put-yourself-in-their-shoes. And along with that comes removing themselves from hateful people and situations. So if you suddenly find that I am just not communicating with you anymore, you can probably guess that I just made the decision to cut out some negativity in my life. No offense meant; I can't control how you feel about things, nor will I try. But I can control who I surround myself with. I cannot control who or what my children will encounter in their lives, but I can help them learn to deal with it in a constructive manner. If something doesn't work in your life, you move on. And I have too much that is good in my life to willingly let negative in.
Monday, April 29, 2013
New chapter
My mom pointed out to me years ago that I tend to take on a lot of major changes at once. Apparently I've done that my whole life and never realized it until she told me. Boy is she right! When she gently pointed this fact out to me, I was graduating from undergrad, planning my (first) wedding, moving to a new state and starting grad school all within a 3 month period. Shew, stressful time! But I did it. Minus a few layers of skin on my legs from my nervous stress habit of scratching the heck out of them, but I did it. Since then, the pattern hasn't changed but my ability to adjust to it has :) I actually function better with a lot on my plate; otherwise I can be a real slacker :)
Our family, like so many others I know, always seems to have a lot going on. The balance of two parents who work outside the home at both a primary (appliance repair and hair stylist) and secondary (new self-owned appliance repair and doula) job, two kids about to start school, two dogs, lots of hobbies and a home we are getting ready to sell can be challenging to say the least. Yet neither my hubby or myself can turn down exciting opportunities that we get; he is now in the Presidency of the Young Men's group at our church which is a BIG responsibility and I am super proud of him.
I am really excited for this new chapter in our lives. I am about to become the mother of 2 kids in elementary school, which means changing my work schedule a bit. I am really happy but slightly apprehensive about that! We have worked hard at making our house a home and I truly love it, but we are outgrowing it and it is time to move on. Bittersweet feelings on that one. I am always looking for new ways to involve myself in the local birth community and Russell is doing a great job at starting his own independent business. Money is tight these days as we are making sacrifices to get us to the next step in our family's life, so I feel like budget issues are making me a little nuts :) We need to be able to sell our home for the right amount to pay off the current mortgage, so while I am anxious to not be in limbo, the timing has to be just right before we can list it. That stressed me out a bit at first, but after processing the info, I'm feeling really blessed that we have the option to wait until it is right.
All in all, our life is so freaking good. I have an amazing family, a strong support system of friends and loved ones and we are always being reminded of how blessed we are. We don't always know what cards we will be dealt, but I'm happy and optimistic about playing that hand :)
Our family, like so many others I know, always seems to have a lot going on. The balance of two parents who work outside the home at both a primary (appliance repair and hair stylist) and secondary (new self-owned appliance repair and doula) job, two kids about to start school, two dogs, lots of hobbies and a home we are getting ready to sell can be challenging to say the least. Yet neither my hubby or myself can turn down exciting opportunities that we get; he is now in the Presidency of the Young Men's group at our church which is a BIG responsibility and I am super proud of him.
I am really excited for this new chapter in our lives. I am about to become the mother of 2 kids in elementary school, which means changing my work schedule a bit. I am really happy but slightly apprehensive about that! We have worked hard at making our house a home and I truly love it, but we are outgrowing it and it is time to move on. Bittersweet feelings on that one. I am always looking for new ways to involve myself in the local birth community and Russell is doing a great job at starting his own independent business. Money is tight these days as we are making sacrifices to get us to the next step in our family's life, so I feel like budget issues are making me a little nuts :) We need to be able to sell our home for the right amount to pay off the current mortgage, so while I am anxious to not be in limbo, the timing has to be just right before we can list it. That stressed me out a bit at first, but after processing the info, I'm feeling really blessed that we have the option to wait until it is right.
All in all, our life is so freaking good. I have an amazing family, a strong support system of friends and loved ones and we are always being reminded of how blessed we are. We don't always know what cards we will be dealt, but I'm happy and optimistic about playing that hand :)
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Body Issues
We all have them. Every woman I know has something about her physical appearance that bugs her. For many reasons women tend to be critical of our bodies. Mine didn't start until college. I was always playing sports before then and was pretty confident about my physicality. That changed when I met my college boyfriend and future starter-husband. The short version of that story is that he was controlling. The long story is that it was this insidious critiquing that built into a full-blown domineering presence in my life. I didn't realize it until it was too late and I was IN LOVE and engaged. At 5'8" I weighed 130 lbs and was told I was fat. I BELIEVED I was fat. I worked out 6 days a week, weight lifting, running, mountain biking and rock climbing. It was never enough, I was never in the shape that I (he) wanted me to be in. I never let my thighs actually rest on a chair because it made them look bigger. I wouldn't order what I wanted in a restaurant because I would get the "are you sure you want to eat that?" look. To be fair to my mom, she tried to warn me!!! But you know how it is when you're in love with an asshole...you don't know he's an asshole. We were married for 4 years and when I finally broke free, I boycotted the gym :) And I ate whatever the hell I wanted! I've never felt like I was fat, but of course my body changed and it is never going to be in that shape again. Nor do I want it to be. I am happy with my curves, I love food and I have a wonderful man who thinks I am the sexiest most beautiful woman on earth.
Having children changes you body in so many ways. My shape is different now and I am still coming to terms with it. I've lost all the baby weight from the twins, which is amazing, but I still had weight from my previous pregnancies that I need to get rid of. It isn't so much about what the scale says, but more about how I feel. There are still remnants of that old me, that old insecurity that pop up when I'm having a bad day. But for the most part I have made a conscious decision to celebrate my body. It has done miraculous things. It is beautiful and strong and yes, a little softer in some places than I want. In the grand scheme of things however, my struggles don't define me. When I'm feeling down or having a "fat" day, I look in the mirror, deep into my own eyes and try to find my strength. I'm thankful that I am surrounded by love and not criticism.
Having children changes you body in so many ways. My shape is different now and I am still coming to terms with it. I've lost all the baby weight from the twins, which is amazing, but I still had weight from my previous pregnancies that I need to get rid of. It isn't so much about what the scale says, but more about how I feel. There are still remnants of that old me, that old insecurity that pop up when I'm having a bad day. But for the most part I have made a conscious decision to celebrate my body. It has done miraculous things. It is beautiful and strong and yes, a little softer in some places than I want. In the grand scheme of things however, my struggles don't define me. When I'm feeling down or having a "fat" day, I look in the mirror, deep into my own eyes and try to find my strength. I'm thankful that I am surrounded by love and not criticism.
Monday, April 1, 2013
separation anxiety
I don't ever want to be a helicopter mom. I am very invested in making sure my kids develop into strong, independent individuals. I think it is really important for them to figure things out on their own, learn at their own pace, find out what motivates them and go for it. I see parents all the time who must feel differently; they hover over their kids and micro-manage each and every move that their children make. I'm pretty sure that 6 year old can navigate the slide on his own. If your daughter gets sand in her shoes or mud in her hair, it is not the end of the world. If your kid breaks a rule and has to deal with a natural consequence, so be it; lesson learned.
All that being said, this mommy is learning that we each have our breaking points. We each have those little things that bug the crap out of us and we have a hard time letting go of. I am learning what mine are as my children are branching out into different activities. So far we have tried soccer, gymnastics and now swim lessons. We have been lucky to have had awesome coaches and teachers so far, who have set boundaries about how much the parents can interfere. This is a lovely concept: teachers teach my kids new things, I watch without undermining the teacher's authority. Of course, we have set our own ground rules with the kids before each class starts. If they repeatedly disobey the teacher after two warnings they are removed from class for the day. I have taken my children home in the middle of soccer class because they deliberately disobeyed our ground rules. Boy did they fuss and cry-but I only had to do it once. Lesson learned. At the same time, I understand that they are 5 and 3, so they aren't going to be perfect, nor do I punish them for being kids. Usually the teacher or coach has things under control, and I really want them to learn to be respectful of those authority figures and to follow the rules on their own. I won't be able to be with them when they are at school, so I need them to learn to listen to those in charge.
Last week at their first swim class, I was ridiculously proud of them. They are in different classes, but in the pool at the same time so I can watch both of them. Parents are not allowed in the pool area so that kids don't get distracted (brilliant! sorry helicopter mom, sit down and watch please!). I was almost in tears watching them follow directions the first time and even willingly do things I had been trying for a while to get them to try. Awesome!!! I was beaming with pride when I lined up with the other parents at the end of class to get them. The instructor gives a little report on every child's progress to each parent, and both kids got really good reports- Roy even got a hard earned ribbon for floating on his back (big deal at his age!). And then...Stella's instructor suggested that extra classes would be helpful for her holding her breath under water, but if not, no big deal, she did a fantastic job. Aaaaaaaand enter crazy worried mom mode: is she ok? i thought she did great! do we need extra classes?? Thankfully all of this was internal dialog. And thankfully my husband can talk me off the ledge. Really?? Was I really worried about this? Come on Chas, you have an amazing daughter who just made you so proud you were almost in tears! It was her first class! Absolutely no need to freak out. Count your blessings girl; if this is your biggest concern with your daughter, then life is good. I know so many families that have REAL issues and challenges; being a pro at proper breathing techniques is not something to worry about. But I couldn't help it, I did have those fleeting moments of real concern. Ahhhhhh, mommy guilt. My point is, we all have our "helicopter" moments; the key is to reign it in and put things in perspective. I am supremely blessed that we can even afford swim lessons and extra activities for the kids- I am not going to sabatoge the fun by being a freak :) And on that note, it is time to pack their bags for swim class...I'll leave MY baggage at home.
All that being said, this mommy is learning that we each have our breaking points. We each have those little things that bug the crap out of us and we have a hard time letting go of. I am learning what mine are as my children are branching out into different activities. So far we have tried soccer, gymnastics and now swim lessons. We have been lucky to have had awesome coaches and teachers so far, who have set boundaries about how much the parents can interfere. This is a lovely concept: teachers teach my kids new things, I watch without undermining the teacher's authority. Of course, we have set our own ground rules with the kids before each class starts. If they repeatedly disobey the teacher after two warnings they are removed from class for the day. I have taken my children home in the middle of soccer class because they deliberately disobeyed our ground rules. Boy did they fuss and cry-but I only had to do it once. Lesson learned. At the same time, I understand that they are 5 and 3, so they aren't going to be perfect, nor do I punish them for being kids. Usually the teacher or coach has things under control, and I really want them to learn to be respectful of those authority figures and to follow the rules on their own. I won't be able to be with them when they are at school, so I need them to learn to listen to those in charge.
Last week at their first swim class, I was ridiculously proud of them. They are in different classes, but in the pool at the same time so I can watch both of them. Parents are not allowed in the pool area so that kids don't get distracted (brilliant! sorry helicopter mom, sit down and watch please!). I was almost in tears watching them follow directions the first time and even willingly do things I had been trying for a while to get them to try. Awesome!!! I was beaming with pride when I lined up with the other parents at the end of class to get them. The instructor gives a little report on every child's progress to each parent, and both kids got really good reports- Roy even got a hard earned ribbon for floating on his back (big deal at his age!). And then...Stella's instructor suggested that extra classes would be helpful for her holding her breath under water, but if not, no big deal, she did a fantastic job. Aaaaaaaand enter crazy worried mom mode: is she ok? i thought she did great! do we need extra classes?? Thankfully all of this was internal dialog. And thankfully my husband can talk me off the ledge. Really?? Was I really worried about this? Come on Chas, you have an amazing daughter who just made you so proud you were almost in tears! It was her first class! Absolutely no need to freak out. Count your blessings girl; if this is your biggest concern with your daughter, then life is good. I know so many families that have REAL issues and challenges; being a pro at proper breathing techniques is not something to worry about. But I couldn't help it, I did have those fleeting moments of real concern. Ahhhhhh, mommy guilt. My point is, we all have our "helicopter" moments; the key is to reign it in and put things in perspective. I am supremely blessed that we can even afford swim lessons and extra activities for the kids- I am not going to sabatoge the fun by being a freak :) And on that note, it is time to pack their bags for swim class...I'll leave MY baggage at home.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Milestones
When I was growing up, my mom was always there for me, physically and mentally. She came to every sporting event, every school activity. Usually with at least 2 other family members. I was well supported at each activity I participated in. (Not to toot my own horn, but I lettered in 4 sports so there were a LOT of events for my mom to attend) I honestly loved that she was there; I wasn't the kid who got embarrassed to have my mom around-she was and is the best. Looking back on it now, I have a better understanding of why she was there for everything. So many of those events are milestones, and as a parent you don't want to miss ANY of them. First Varsity game, first time in starting lineup, first time as Captain, last home game, etc. They were all huge for me; therefore, huge for her. Thinking about the sacrifices she had to make to be at every single game blows me away. Seriously, she didn't miss one. As a single mom, that is a huge accomplishment. I am lucky to have her.
Since my kids are little ones, their milestones have mostly been developmental instead of accomplishments. And I am finding myself to be the sappiest mom ever over each and every one. I am feeling even more sentimental over my baby, my last child, reaching milestones because I won't witness another child experiencing them. Roy is spending tonight as his first night in his full size big boy bed. The last vestiges of toddlerhood are gone. He will be starting school in the fall in a full time pre-k program and Stella will be starting Kindergarten. BOTH babies starting school at the same time???? While I am very excited for them and I know it is the right decision, losing both babes to school at the same time is quite enough to send this mommy into a panic attack. I distinctly remember my first day of school, getting on the bus while my mom cried and saying to her that I would be fine. I didn't get why she was crying; I was so excited to go to school I couldn't get on the bus fast enough. And now the thought of dropping my babies off at school this Fall makes me tear up. It is MONTHS away but it still makes me cry. Holy crap I am a sentimental fool!
I love it when my kids reach milestones. I love it when they accomplish a new task, learn a new skill, develop a new talent. I love when they are anxious to explore and dying to have new experiences. Stella is so ready to read that she is bursting (and she is pretty close to doing it I might add). Roy is super excited about school and can count to 30 on his own. I am a proud mama! But oh is it hard to see your babies grow...
Since my kids are little ones, their milestones have mostly been developmental instead of accomplishments. And I am finding myself to be the sappiest mom ever over each and every one. I am feeling even more sentimental over my baby, my last child, reaching milestones because I won't witness another child experiencing them. Roy is spending tonight as his first night in his full size big boy bed. The last vestiges of toddlerhood are gone. He will be starting school in the fall in a full time pre-k program and Stella will be starting Kindergarten. BOTH babies starting school at the same time???? While I am very excited for them and I know it is the right decision, losing both babes to school at the same time is quite enough to send this mommy into a panic attack. I distinctly remember my first day of school, getting on the bus while my mom cried and saying to her that I would be fine. I didn't get why she was crying; I was so excited to go to school I couldn't get on the bus fast enough. And now the thought of dropping my babies off at school this Fall makes me tear up. It is MONTHS away but it still makes me cry. Holy crap I am a sentimental fool!
I love it when my kids reach milestones. I love it when they accomplish a new task, learn a new skill, develop a new talent. I love when they are anxious to explore and dying to have new experiences. Stella is so ready to read that she is bursting (and she is pretty close to doing it I might add). Roy is super excited about school and can count to 30 on his own. I am a proud mama! But oh is it hard to see your babies grow...
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Not so perfect perfectionist
My mom and my husband can both tell you I'm a perfectionist. I was born that way. I can't leave the house for the day without the dishes and vacuuming being done. Laundry has to be folded and put away properly. I don't care what the kids choose to wear, as long as it is clean and their hair is brushed. Games must be played by the rules. All bills are paid on time. Birthday parties are major. I understand that I have a sickness. My astrological sign is Virgo, which is characterized by traits that are pretty much OCD. Yep, that is me. Logic rules my world: why would you put dishes in the sink when the dishwasher is right beside it?
And then there is parenthood. What a way to screw with a perfectionist's head!!! There is no perfect parent; there is no one even close. Parenthood is a constant struggle from day one. Don't get me wrong, it is also the most joyous thing I have ever experienced! But is is WORK. Feeding, sleeping schedule, changing diapers leads into teething, walking, running. Are they eating right? Watching too much TV? Going to the right preschool? Learning at the right pace? Meeting developmental milestones? Listening to you? Fighting with their siblings? Respectful? Obeying rules? Are they being brats? Do they share? Are they making friends? Riding a bike? Counting? Reading? And as a parent, am I doing a good job? Am I mean? Setting a good example? Feeding them all organic healthy food? Buying the right toys? The right books? The right clothes? Is it ok that my 5 year old can't read yet? Is that show appropriate? Am I ignoring my husband? Am I a helicopter mom? A disengaged mom? Too nice? There are so many things that I could be doing wrong.
But the bottom line is that I know my children love me and our family. They are my greatest accomplishment. I may not be perfect and I may berate myself and cry myself to sleep sometimes worrying that I am doing right by them. I stress constantly over whether I am doing a good enough job raising them. And that is what tells me that I am. The fact that my heart and soul and mind are poured into being a mommy. I may not be perfect, but I am perfectly suited to be their mommy. They will learn about struggles and failure and still continuing to try your best. They will learn that there is no such thing as perfect. They will learn goofiness and silliness. They will learn that mommy and daddy love each other and work hard to maintain balance in our family. They will learn to know and love themselves. All because we AREN'T perfect. And I'm ok with that.
And then there is parenthood. What a way to screw with a perfectionist's head!!! There is no perfect parent; there is no one even close. Parenthood is a constant struggle from day one. Don't get me wrong, it is also the most joyous thing I have ever experienced! But is is WORK. Feeding, sleeping schedule, changing diapers leads into teething, walking, running. Are they eating right? Watching too much TV? Going to the right preschool? Learning at the right pace? Meeting developmental milestones? Listening to you? Fighting with their siblings? Respectful? Obeying rules? Are they being brats? Do they share? Are they making friends? Riding a bike? Counting? Reading? And as a parent, am I doing a good job? Am I mean? Setting a good example? Feeding them all organic healthy food? Buying the right toys? The right books? The right clothes? Is it ok that my 5 year old can't read yet? Is that show appropriate? Am I ignoring my husband? Am I a helicopter mom? A disengaged mom? Too nice? There are so many things that I could be doing wrong.
But the bottom line is that I know my children love me and our family. They are my greatest accomplishment. I may not be perfect and I may berate myself and cry myself to sleep sometimes worrying that I am doing right by them. I stress constantly over whether I am doing a good enough job raising them. And that is what tells me that I am. The fact that my heart and soul and mind are poured into being a mommy. I may not be perfect, but I am perfectly suited to be their mommy. They will learn about struggles and failure and still continuing to try your best. They will learn that there is no such thing as perfect. They will learn goofiness and silliness. They will learn that mommy and daddy love each other and work hard to maintain balance in our family. They will learn to know and love themselves. All because we AREN'T perfect. And I'm ok with that.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Bittersweet
Yesterday was my postpartum checkup after having the twins. I have been looking forward to that appointment as the official last step in my surrogacy journey, but seriously couldn't believe it had been 5 weeks already. As always, meeting with Dr. Fitzhugh gives me plenty to think about; that man is amazing. First thing he said was "So, you ready to do it again? You know, give it a month or so." What??? Are you insane?? As much as I love being pregnant, I am done! With pregnancy AND surrogacy :) I loved it, but I always knew it was something I would only do once because I felt I was meant to do this for the couple I worked with. So the checkup was good, according to him I am "perfect" and in great shape (ahhh, music to my ears). I have the green light to resume normal activities and have a clean bill of health. Yay!! And then he says "Your uterus says you should have another one. It is in great shape, you shouldn't retire it yet!" Ok, seriously Dr. Fitz, you're killing me. Russell and I have already made the decision (a while ago) that we were happy with two. That is part of the reason I did the surrogacy: I love being pregnant but we didn't want to raise any more children. We still feel that way. More than anything, it is a practical decision because children take money and time, two things we don't have in unlimited supply. If our situation were different, say we were independently wealthy, we would have another child. But we aren't, and neither of us want to struggle to support our family or sacrifice the things we can do now as a family. We can afford to take trips with our kids, go on vacations, eat out when we want, buy the kids the things they want. We don't have a lot, but we get by with a little bit of budgeting and planning. A third child would change that balance.
As I was leaving Dr. Fitzhugh's office, I have to say I was a little wistful. I got a little teary. I was reflecting on a closing chapter, the end of my time in my life in which I have borne children. I will never be pregnant again. I will not feel the swell of my belly with a child growing inside. There won't be those sweet tender breastfeeding sessions ever again. No new baby smell. No empowering birth experiences again. And I am totally ok with that decision. I am not second-guessing it. But I believe every woman has to honor the passing of that time in her life, and this is how I choose to do so. By acknowledging it, putting it out there for the world to see, embracing the bittersweet feelings. I HAVE never and WILL never do more important work in my life than the work of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood.
As I was leaving Dr. Fitzhugh's office, I have to say I was a little wistful. I got a little teary. I was reflecting on a closing chapter, the end of my time in my life in which I have borne children. I will never be pregnant again. I will not feel the swell of my belly with a child growing inside. There won't be those sweet tender breastfeeding sessions ever again. No new baby smell. No empowering birth experiences again. And I am totally ok with that decision. I am not second-guessing it. But I believe every woman has to honor the passing of that time in her life, and this is how I choose to do so. By acknowledging it, putting it out there for the world to see, embracing the bittersweet feelings. I HAVE never and WILL never do more important work in my life than the work of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Sensitive Dude
My son Roy is the sweetest little thing. He is so affectionate and loving, kind hearted and giving. He touches me constantly, just cause he likes to. He says things like "Mommy, I blew you kisses while you were at work today. Did you feel it?" Oh my goodness, he is a little snuggley bug. He wants Mommy all the time. ALL the time :) If I am sitting, he wants to be in my lap. When he gets up in the morning, without fail, he calls for me. He wants me to get his milk, help him get dressed, fix his breakfast, tie his shoes, pack his backpack. Those chubby little hands touch my cheek with soft caresses all the time; he asks if I want him to scratch my back for me. When he lays down to take a nap at the sitter he sings the "Mommy I miss you" song that he made up. On the days that we have special Mommy/Roy days, he misses Stella so much that he talks to her car seat as if she is there. He asks when we will go back and get "his Stella". He tells her she is his best friend, the best sister ever. He loves to curl up in his Daddy's lap to watch shows before bedtime. He prays for his friends if they had a bad day; in fact, if we see a stray animal we have to immediately say a prayer that they will be found. Yesterday he was terribly worried about the bird he saw who seemed to be alone. He has been this way since birth, always touchy and affectionate and quick to have his feelings hurt. He is a sensitive little man and we have to be mindful of that constantly. I love it. He makes my heart melt on a daily basis. I have frequently said that I am much more worried about the day he starts dating than when Stella does. I have no doubt that Stella will be one tough cookie, but I forsee this mama bear having a tough time when Roy gets his heart broken. I worry that he will be taken for granted because he is so giving.
And yet...
Roy is such a DUDE. Full of testosterone, smashing and hitting and knocking things down. Tearing shit up. He loves guns. I mean really loves them. I tried my hardest to keep them out of our house, but it was a losing battle, one I chose to give up. From the second he saw his older cousin playing with one, that was it. The fat lady had sung. We were at a church function when he was 2 (when there was still a ban on guns in our house) and he bit his saltine cracker into the basic shape of a gun and proceeded to shoot people. I was horrified. Everyone else thought it was hilarious :) He loves dinosaurs, cars, trucks, Transformers, Spiderman, The Hulk. He makes car noises, headbutts us, karate chops anything in his path. He is stubborn and headstrong to the point that it infuriates me. He blatantly refuses to take anything at face value. He is persistent. He has NO. FEAR. With this guy it is all or nothing, no half-stepping. I am frequently amazed by the sheer "maleness" of him!
It is the conundrum of Roy. The yin and yang of a perfectly balanced little man. I am eternally grateful for him, for the sheer unadulterated love for life this guy has. He seizes each and every moment of the day, every day. So full of love and passion!! It makes me giddy with happiness that he is my son. Ahhh, my sensitive dude :)
And yet...
Roy is such a DUDE. Full of testosterone, smashing and hitting and knocking things down. Tearing shit up. He loves guns. I mean really loves them. I tried my hardest to keep them out of our house, but it was a losing battle, one I chose to give up. From the second he saw his older cousin playing with one, that was it. The fat lady had sung. We were at a church function when he was 2 (when there was still a ban on guns in our house) and he bit his saltine cracker into the basic shape of a gun and proceeded to shoot people. I was horrified. Everyone else thought it was hilarious :) He loves dinosaurs, cars, trucks, Transformers, Spiderman, The Hulk. He makes car noises, headbutts us, karate chops anything in his path. He is stubborn and headstrong to the point that it infuriates me. He blatantly refuses to take anything at face value. He is persistent. He has NO. FEAR. With this guy it is all or nothing, no half-stepping. I am frequently amazed by the sheer "maleness" of him!
It is the conundrum of Roy. The yin and yang of a perfectly balanced little man. I am eternally grateful for him, for the sheer unadulterated love for life this guy has. He seizes each and every moment of the day, every day. So full of love and passion!! It makes me giddy with happiness that he is my son. Ahhh, my sensitive dude :)
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Miracles
Things I'm reflecting on today:
Do you ever look at your child with total wonder at how beautiful he or she is? Gaze in total amazement at the perfection of their features? Do you see the miracle that is their creation? Hold that little hand in yours: does it still have the chubby baby fat dimples on the back of it? Or has it already morphed into a sturdy little version of your own? Do you still smell the top of their heads? Are you totally in love with the softness of their little cheeks? Look into those eyes, sparkling bright with mischief and hope and excitement. I am constantly touching them to make sure they are real, that they aren't going anywhere, that I didn't just dream them.
Do you ever get a glimpse of what your child will look like as a teenager? Does it make your heart stop? Do you think of them falling in love, starting a family of their own? Are you already proud of the things you just know they will accomplish? Do you cry at their dance recitals and soccer classes? Are you sad when they learn the proper way to pronounce words instead of their child-like versions? Do you watch them grow with a mixture of happiness and terror? Are their dance moves the stuff of legend in your house? Have you turned the car around and driven 30 minutes out of the way to retrieve a favorite stuffed animal/doll/action figure left behind?
The worst day in the world can be salvaged with a sweet hug around my legs and an "I love you Mommy". Anger melts, frustration disappears. Playing "This Little Piggy" with tiny little toes, seeing a cute little bottom in big boy boxer briefs, folding a laundry basket full of Hello Kitty pj's; it all kills me. I have never been more sure of anything in my life than the fact that I was meant to be a mommy. As crazy as it can get, as tough and challenging as it is to raise a PERSON, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Do you ever look at your child with total wonder at how beautiful he or she is? Gaze in total amazement at the perfection of their features? Do you see the miracle that is their creation? Hold that little hand in yours: does it still have the chubby baby fat dimples on the back of it? Or has it already morphed into a sturdy little version of your own? Do you still smell the top of their heads? Are you totally in love with the softness of their little cheeks? Look into those eyes, sparkling bright with mischief and hope and excitement. I am constantly touching them to make sure they are real, that they aren't going anywhere, that I didn't just dream them.
Do you ever get a glimpse of what your child will look like as a teenager? Does it make your heart stop? Do you think of them falling in love, starting a family of their own? Are you already proud of the things you just know they will accomplish? Do you cry at their dance recitals and soccer classes? Are you sad when they learn the proper way to pronounce words instead of their child-like versions? Do you watch them grow with a mixture of happiness and terror? Are their dance moves the stuff of legend in your house? Have you turned the car around and driven 30 minutes out of the way to retrieve a favorite stuffed animal/doll/action figure left behind?
The worst day in the world can be salvaged with a sweet hug around my legs and an "I love you Mommy". Anger melts, frustration disappears. Playing "This Little Piggy" with tiny little toes, seeing a cute little bottom in big boy boxer briefs, folding a laundry basket full of Hello Kitty pj's; it all kills me. I have never been more sure of anything in my life than the fact that I was meant to be a mommy. As crazy as it can get, as tough and challenging as it is to raise a PERSON, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Sick kid
As any parent knows, having a sick child is the worst. It is difficult on many levels, for many reasons, not the least of which is the emotional havoc it can wreak. I am blessed with children who don't get sick very often and have never had anything more serious than ear infections; that being said, when they get really sick, it can make life really challenging. We are just coming out of a week-long sickness with Stella, my dramatic child. She did have to have tubes in her ears due to infections when she was really little, but she handled it in stride. This girl didn't vomit for the first time until she was 3 years old though, so feeling sick is sort of foreign to her. Because of her not being accustomed to feeling poorly, she is DEVASTATED when she doesn't feel well. What I mean by devastated is that she screams bloody murder if she vomits or has a headache. Screams. Bloody. Murder. Lucky for all of us it doesn't happen very often. Being the dramatic one that she is, she will claim having a headache if she is wanting a little attention, but I usually know if it is for real or not due to the aforementioned screaming.
Last Sunday she started feeling a little yucky and we assumed it was just a cold. No biggie, ibuprofen is a wonderful thing. After a day or so, we started getting the headache complaint, with sad pitiful face. Ok, this is lasting longer than usual, but still no big deal. We just thought she just wanted a little more attention and pampering, which is not a problem; I will give the girl lovin' all day long :) And then began the screaming. So sporadically, I didn't know what was going on. She would be fine for hours, then scream about a headache or a tummy ache, then be fine again. I waffled back and forth about what to do. We gave her cold medicine and ibuprofen, but after a few days, she still felt crappy. Or did she? I have never been so confused about what was going on with a child's sickness in all my 5 years of parenting. I would make up my mind to stay home from work with her and she would be running around that morning laughing and playing. Ok, off to work. Then when I picked her up from the sitter, crying and fussing. Drama? Oh yes. I didn't want to go to the doctor's office and expose her to serious germs if she only had a cold. Finally, after a thoroughly confusing week, I took her to the doctor Saturday night. Diagnosis? Tonsilitis, a bacterial infection similar to strep. No red throat, but swollen lymph nodes and fever, little bit of an upset tummy. 10 days of antibiotics. Super glad that I went, wish I had gone earlier. I could have saved myself days of intermittent crying (hers and mine) and mommy-guilt. I never have a problem trusting my gut, but for whatever reason the radar was all over the map with this one. Granted, I was getting mixed signals, but I have been beating myself up over this one for the last few days. Today, finally, my little sassy Stella-pants is back! I feel like the biggest weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The emotional stress of my little one feeling crappy and making me crazy with the whining had taken its toll. Ahhh, the growing pains of motherhood...
Last Sunday she started feeling a little yucky and we assumed it was just a cold. No biggie, ibuprofen is a wonderful thing. After a day or so, we started getting the headache complaint, with sad pitiful face. Ok, this is lasting longer than usual, but still no big deal. We just thought she just wanted a little more attention and pampering, which is not a problem; I will give the girl lovin' all day long :) And then began the screaming. So sporadically, I didn't know what was going on. She would be fine for hours, then scream about a headache or a tummy ache, then be fine again. I waffled back and forth about what to do. We gave her cold medicine and ibuprofen, but after a few days, she still felt crappy. Or did she? I have never been so confused about what was going on with a child's sickness in all my 5 years of parenting. I would make up my mind to stay home from work with her and she would be running around that morning laughing and playing. Ok, off to work. Then when I picked her up from the sitter, crying and fussing. Drama? Oh yes. I didn't want to go to the doctor's office and expose her to serious germs if she only had a cold. Finally, after a thoroughly confusing week, I took her to the doctor Saturday night. Diagnosis? Tonsilitis, a bacterial infection similar to strep. No red throat, but swollen lymph nodes and fever, little bit of an upset tummy. 10 days of antibiotics. Super glad that I went, wish I had gone earlier. I could have saved myself days of intermittent crying (hers and mine) and mommy-guilt. I never have a problem trusting my gut, but for whatever reason the radar was all over the map with this one. Granted, I was getting mixed signals, but I have been beating myself up over this one for the last few days. Today, finally, my little sassy Stella-pants is back! I feel like the biggest weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The emotional stress of my little one feeling crappy and making me crazy with the whining had taken its toll. Ahhh, the growing pains of motherhood...
Intro
Some of you may have followed my previous blog documenting my journey through surrogacy, Womb with a View. I loved writing about that experience and I've missed it in the few short weeks since my last entry. So I decided to blog about my life in general; I usually have a pretty full plate of things going on :)
I am a mother to two amazing children: Stella is 5 and Roy is 3. I have the most amazing, supportive, loving, sexy and smart hubby I could ever wish for. Russell is the man of my dreams :) I work full time as a hair stylist and part time as a birth doula. I am passionate about childbirth education, parenting, literature, family, feminism and friends. Join me and my family in our everyday adventures!
I am a mother to two amazing children: Stella is 5 and Roy is 3. I have the most amazing, supportive, loving, sexy and smart hubby I could ever wish for. Russell is the man of my dreams :) I work full time as a hair stylist and part time as a birth doula. I am passionate about childbirth education, parenting, literature, family, feminism and friends. Join me and my family in our everyday adventures!
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