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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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 :)

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.