I was a nanny for 9 year and had compiled a grand list of things-I-would-never-do when I was the mom. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Here's just a short list of the rules I've broken thus far:
* chocolate before 9:00am
* pick my child's nose
* couch, carseat, and carpet all encrusted with half chewed crackers
* donuts a few times a month
* TV as a babysitter/pacifier
* share a lollipop with my child
* out in public with mismatched clothes with a hint of lunch on them and no shoes
Oh, motherhood is nothing like you think it will be. I do however have my proud moments. For one, my kids have never eaten fast food (unless you count the munchkins). We laugh full belly laughs every day. I shower them with hugs and kisses with plenty of I-love-you's on top. And I really try and listen to them... well just her for now. My buddy's biggest heart-to-heart is a deep need for more crackers.
There are so many amazing moments in the life of your children. Sometimes it's hard to focus on them when all you can see is the trouble and the whining and the nonstop needs. I've been trying to tell myself that they won't be young forever and don't sweat the small stuff. Monkey bear is terrified of dogs - no big deal. My buddy still uses a bottle - chances are he won't when he is 16. They both want to be in my lap at the same time... bring it on. I will take every snuggle I can get now and store it away for when they are teenagers.
I spent years not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. Wondering who I was supposed to be. Then all of a sudden these two amazing little beings plopped into my life and made me Mom. I am right where I belong.
August 10, 2010
July 26, 2010
taboo
I have thought long and hard about this post. Even as I write it, I am not sure if I will actually publish it or not. I have a completely selfish reason for writing - my sanity. For those with a weak stomach concerning "female issues" feel free to stop reading now.
I'm not sure how to say this with class, so I'll just get it out there. I recently had a miscarriage. I wasn't experiencing my usual pregnancy symptoms so I had some concerns, but didn't really think it would turn out this way.
The hardest part for me is the taboo that surrounds it. When an old friend asks if you are going to have more kids, you have two choices: (1) smile and say we'd love to have another (2) tell her the truth and stop conversation completely. I am not embarrassed to tell people, but I know it will just make them uncomfortable and there is nothing they can say that will help.
I have searched the internet looking for insight. I can't exactly place how I feel. I found a lot of websites with advice on how to memorialize your baby and mourn for the loss. But that doesn't describe how I'm feeling. I feel like an alien force has taken a hold of me and they are running an experiment. Can she chop dinner while sobbing quietly so the kids don't notice then plaster on a smile?
I don't have problems conceiving, so I know I can have another, if I so choose. I never saw a heartbeat and I said more than once that I didn't really feel pregnant.
But if it never felt real, why am I so depressed?
I blame those darn hormones. My body barely had time to register the immense change in getting pregnant and now it has to compensate for the hormones leaving. Not to mention that every time I see the blood, I can't help but think... is that a little part of my baby? Morbid, I know.
My logical side knows that it happens for a reason - usually something chromosomal. Then there's the emotional side... did the baby have Down syndrome and the universe didn't think I could handle another? And of course, there's the fear of what will happen if I get pregnant again.
The only light in all of this is that I didn't tell the kids. I don't think I could have handled explaining to monkey bear. I feel confident that with a little bit of time and hormonal balance, I will be myself again. I just have to make it there.
I'm not sure how to say this with class, so I'll just get it out there. I recently had a miscarriage. I wasn't experiencing my usual pregnancy symptoms so I had some concerns, but didn't really think it would turn out this way.
The hardest part for me is the taboo that surrounds it. When an old friend asks if you are going to have more kids, you have two choices: (1) smile and say we'd love to have another (2) tell her the truth and stop conversation completely. I am not embarrassed to tell people, but I know it will just make them uncomfortable and there is nothing they can say that will help.
I have searched the internet looking for insight. I can't exactly place how I feel. I found a lot of websites with advice on how to memorialize your baby and mourn for the loss. But that doesn't describe how I'm feeling. I feel like an alien force has taken a hold of me and they are running an experiment. Can she chop dinner while sobbing quietly so the kids don't notice then plaster on a smile?
I don't have problems conceiving, so I know I can have another, if I so choose. I never saw a heartbeat and I said more than once that I didn't really feel pregnant.
But if it never felt real, why am I so depressed?
I blame those darn hormones. My body barely had time to register the immense change in getting pregnant and now it has to compensate for the hormones leaving. Not to mention that every time I see the blood, I can't help but think... is that a little part of my baby? Morbid, I know.
My logical side knows that it happens for a reason - usually something chromosomal. Then there's the emotional side... did the baby have Down syndrome and the universe didn't think I could handle another? And of course, there's the fear of what will happen if I get pregnant again.
The only light in all of this is that I didn't tell the kids. I don't think I could have handled explaining to monkey bear. I feel confident that with a little bit of time and hormonal balance, I will be myself again. I just have to make it there.
July 14, 2010
happiness
A few weeks ago I read a book and I can't get it off my mind. The book was about one woman's pursuit of happiness. She goes on a year long search and in doing so tries all sorts of different things to boost her own happiness. You would think that this is what has stuck with me. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Out of 294 pages, one sentence - really just part of a sentence - has been dancing around my head.
In August, she decides to "contemplate the heavens" and one way of doing this is to read memoirs of "catastrophe". I think the aim is to become more aware of the preciousness of ordinary life. Along with memoirs on cancer, brain tumors and death, she reads a book about a woman who had a baby with Down syndrome. You think of my life as a catastrophe?
It feels like being in middle school and overhearing some girls make fun of your best friend.
I understand schadenfreude and the thought that things could always be worse. I just never thought my buddy was worse. And I can't believe that I take it all so personally. I've been trying to get it off my mind. But it's haunting me.
It doesn't help that I had to fill out a medical history and it asked if anyone in my family had: Down's syndrome (mongolism). So now I (the person that hides from any confrontation) has to go to my doctor's appointment and let them know that it is now known as Down (no 's) syndrome and the word mongolism is outdated and somewhat offensive.
There are some things you can prepare for, but there are always those things that sneak up on you just when you least expect if.
In August, she decides to "contemplate the heavens" and one way of doing this is to read memoirs of "catastrophe". I think the aim is to become more aware of the preciousness of ordinary life. Along with memoirs on cancer, brain tumors and death, she reads a book about a woman who had a baby with Down syndrome. You think of my life as a catastrophe?
It feels like being in middle school and overhearing some girls make fun of your best friend.
I understand schadenfreude and the thought that things could always be worse. I just never thought my buddy was worse. And I can't believe that I take it all so personally. I've been trying to get it off my mind. But it's haunting me.
It doesn't help that I had to fill out a medical history and it asked if anyone in my family had: Down's syndrome (mongolism). So now I (the person that hides from any confrontation) has to go to my doctor's appointment and let them know that it is now known as Down (no 's) syndrome and the word mongolism is outdated and somewhat offensive.
There are some things you can prepare for, but there are always those things that sneak up on you just when you least expect if.
July 6, 2010
three
Monkey bear is three. It hardly seems possible. I can remember those newborn days like they were yesterday. She wouldn't latch, wouldn't sleep unless she was in my arms, and forced me to tears daily. Oh, the good ol' days. I remember blubbering multiple times a day, "I always wanted more than one child, but I can't ever do this again."
Now my little monkey bear is as close to an angel as a three year old can be. She has the biggest heart I've ever seen in a child. The patience she has for her little brother and endless love for those who surround her is inspiring. She delights me daily.
I try hard not to brag too much about her. But man she makes it so hard. Monkey bear listens when I ask her not to do something, shares whatever she may have, and lets me know when my buddy needs something. Have I mentioned that she is brilliant as well?
Of course she has her shortcomings. Don't we all? When faced with a group setting she refuses to utter a single word. She won't even shake her head when asked a question. I would be lying if I said monkey bear never had a single meltdown, but lucky for me she saves them for home.
I have loved these past three years watching her grow and change and I look forward to a lifetime of seeing who she will become. It is amazing how big your heart can grow when a child enters your life.
Now my little monkey bear is as close to an angel as a three year old can be. She has the biggest heart I've ever seen in a child. The patience she has for her little brother and endless love for those who surround her is inspiring. She delights me daily.
I try hard not to brag too much about her. But man she makes it so hard. Monkey bear listens when I ask her not to do something, shares whatever she may have, and lets me know when my buddy needs something. Have I mentioned that she is brilliant as well?
Of course she has her shortcomings. Don't we all? When faced with a group setting she refuses to utter a single word. She won't even shake her head when asked a question. I would be lying if I said monkey bear never had a single meltdown, but lucky for me she saves them for home.
I have loved these past three years watching her grow and change and I look forward to a lifetime of seeing who she will become. It is amazing how big your heart can grow when a child enters your life.
June 22, 2010
trouble
Trouble. That's what we call my buddy. This morning from the shower I hear a frantic monkey bear calling my name. I look out of the shower to see my buddy standing on top of the hope chest. There goes my morning shower. After climbing over the hope chest, he gets to Daddy's alarm clock - which he turns on and then promptly throws behind the night stand only to climb to the top of the night stand to look for it.
This takes all of 37 seconds.
We say he goes from 0 - 120 mph. Zero is when he is asleep and 120mph is every other minute of the day when he is awake. The second he wakes up he sits right up and stands in our bed trying to climb over me and into a pile of trouble.
This evening, while trying to make dinner, another frantic call from monkey bear. This time my buddy has pulled out the desk chair, climbed on up, and has one foot on the desk while pounding on the computer. Every child-proofing thing I can find only works for a blissful week or two. I am considering selling all belongings but toys. Who needs chairs, couches, or desks?
I wouldn't mind if he climbed into a chair and sat for a while. But he stands and walks around with no regard to the fact that he is a few feet off the ground and if you step the wrong way, gravity will take over. I'm not sure what my buddy hears when I say, "NO". I think he hears, "Please keep on doing what you were just a little faster and more frantic before I reach you and physically remove you."
Of course there is that part of you that hip hip hooray's the fact that he can pull a chair out and then climb up, isn't lazy, and wants to be into everything. For me, that part exists while he is sleeping and I am finally sitting down.
This takes all of 37 seconds.
We say he goes from 0 - 120 mph. Zero is when he is asleep and 120mph is every other minute of the day when he is awake. The second he wakes up he sits right up and stands in our bed trying to climb over me and into a pile of trouble.
This evening, while trying to make dinner, another frantic call from monkey bear. This time my buddy has pulled out the desk chair, climbed on up, and has one foot on the desk while pounding on the computer. Every child-proofing thing I can find only works for a blissful week or two. I am considering selling all belongings but toys. Who needs chairs, couches, or desks?
I wouldn't mind if he climbed into a chair and sat for a while. But he stands and walks around with no regard to the fact that he is a few feet off the ground and if you step the wrong way, gravity will take over. I'm not sure what my buddy hears when I say, "NO". I think he hears, "Please keep on doing what you were just a little faster and more frantic before I reach you and physically remove you."
Of course there is that part of you that hip hip hooray's the fact that he can pull a chair out and then climb up, isn't lazy, and wants to be into everything. For me, that part exists while he is sleeping and I am finally sitting down.
June 9, 2010
sleep
My buddy still does not consistently sleep through the night. A good night, he'll make it until 5am where I snuggle him in bed with us and he falls back asleep for another hour and a half. Typical nights he wakes one to three times and just needs a friendly "Shush" with a little pat on the back and then he wakes at 5 am to join us in bed.
But then there are those nights where he wakes up and just needs to be held. I have several different thoughts at all hours of the night. One is typically - am I ever going to sleep again? 19 months is a long time to be deprived of sleep.
Another common thought is more of a worry - what is wrong? Why is he waking up so much? And then I mentally go through all the possible things that can be wrong and get myself all worked up.
The nights I like the best (besides the ones where I actually sleep) are the nights I just stare at his face in the dim light and marvel at my little boy. I imagine what it must feel like to be him. Something wakes you in the night and then, out of nowhere, this person comes to scoop you up, hold you close, and murmur sweet words until you are asleep again. I wish there was someone big enough to wrap their arms around me and hold me close. I try and savor these moments because it won't be too long before he no longer fits in my arms. And then that terrible day when he doesn't want me kissing him and hugging him.
It's so easy to get caught up in the hard times, but I try and tell myself that they won't be little forever. He will sleep and then so will I. Someday that stinky baby breath will just be bad breath and won't be nearly as sweet. All that soft skin will be gone and he won't fit into that special spot on my shoulder nuzzled into my neck. I want to always remember that peaceful look on his face when he knows he is safe in Mommy's arms.
But then there are those nights where he wakes up and just needs to be held. I have several different thoughts at all hours of the night. One is typically - am I ever going to sleep again? 19 months is a long time to be deprived of sleep.
Another common thought is more of a worry - what is wrong? Why is he waking up so much? And then I mentally go through all the possible things that can be wrong and get myself all worked up.
The nights I like the best (besides the ones where I actually sleep) are the nights I just stare at his face in the dim light and marvel at my little boy. I imagine what it must feel like to be him. Something wakes you in the night and then, out of nowhere, this person comes to scoop you up, hold you close, and murmur sweet words until you are asleep again. I wish there was someone big enough to wrap their arms around me and hold me close. I try and savor these moments because it won't be too long before he no longer fits in my arms. And then that terrible day when he doesn't want me kissing him and hugging him.
It's so easy to get caught up in the hard times, but I try and tell myself that they won't be little forever. He will sleep and then so will I. Someday that stinky baby breath will just be bad breath and won't be nearly as sweet. All that soft skin will be gone and he won't fit into that special spot on my shoulder nuzzled into my neck. I want to always remember that peaceful look on his face when he knows he is safe in Mommy's arms.
June 2, 2010
words
My buddy finally did it. He finally spoke. If I point to a picture of me or have him touch my face and ask, "Who's that?" he answers with an enthusiastic, "MA!". And when he sees a picture of Daddy, he says, "ma ma"... close enough for me!
Better than hearing that little voice - which I assure you is amazing - is the look he gets on his face. I, of course, overreact with a "Woo Hoo" and big hug. My buddy couldn't look more proud. He smiles and looks as if he personally achieved world peace.
Oh and monkey bear. She will jump up and down saying, "Yay he just said Mama!!!" I can't wait for speech therapy next week. I hope this is the beginning of a word explosion for him. I really look forward to talking with him and learning more about who he will be.
Better than hearing that little voice - which I assure you is amazing - is the look he gets on his face. I, of course, overreact with a "Woo Hoo" and big hug. My buddy couldn't look more proud. He smiles and looks as if he personally achieved world peace.
Oh and monkey bear. She will jump up and down saying, "Yay he just said Mama!!!" I can't wait for speech therapy next week. I hope this is the beginning of a word explosion for him. I really look forward to talking with him and learning more about who he will be.
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