Every morning, I wake up and I see my daughters, usually one or both have ended up in our bed at some point throughout the night, and I am in awe of them. I truly am overwhelmed with a feeling of pride and blessedness that I have the honor of calling these perfect human beings mine. The sheer fact that I had anything to do with assisting them to enter into this world, it makes my life worth living. And every night before I go to bed, I pray to God to watch over my daughters and to let them live long, happy, and healthy lives. Above all else, this is all I ask. It is all that really matters to me. I think this is how all mothers feel. But some time in between the morning awe and the bedtime kisses and prayers, we get sidetracked by life. I’ve caught myself yelling at my girls to ” please be quiet,” or even the occassional full on “Please shut up,” at which I immediatley feel horrible and like I should be awarded the worst mom ever trophy. I know that I want and have every intention and capability of being a great Mommy to my girls but sometimes I feel that it is about as effective as having every intention and capability of working out. Where is that fine line that we cross where we go from thinking our kids’ behaviour is endearing to it is unacceptable? Its not them who is changing the rules, it is us and these sliding scale rules to fit our own moods, that is the real problem. That is the true culprit to our frustration. I am making a concerted effort to look at my children , even in the most trying times, no matter the behaviour and stay in control. Who makes the rules? We do. So my new rules are these 1) Love my children above all else, no matter what they do 2) Never let them see you sweat.Stay in control. 3)Let the small things go. They are only small( the children ,not the “things’lol) for a short time.4)Turn the frowns upside down. Life is too short to be unhappy.5) It’s more important to have a healthy and happy realtionship with your children than to have lots of money, a clean house, a quiet house, or a social life.By trying to have all of the above, you ( or at least I do) will find yourself frustrated and unfulfilled. So, my new mantra is “Enjoy my children and forget the rest”, it is the only way that I can accept the chaos that fills my everyday. It is not a bad chaos, it is merely a deviation from my plan and sometimes thats enough to throw the most organized of us all into a complete parental tailspin. But what a wonderful, exciting tailspin it is and I am blessed to be able to share this journey with my two free-spirited, adorable daughters.
Category: Parenting
Parenting is nothing you expected and everything you could have imagined all rolled into one. I have been spit up on, pooped on, vomited on all before 7 a.m. in the newborn years. I’ve watched my toddler shove a pearl up her nose and poop in her mouth, and I’ve even masticated food. Not as fun as it sounds. I’ve survived breast buds and the sex talk. I share everything I ever learned and you might want to know about parenting from pregnancy to labor thru to the teens years. It’s is hard but it’s the toughest job that you’ll ever love but the salary sucks.
Waking up Mommy
The other morning I woke up; the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and , by all accounts, it was going to be a beautiful day. I lay there for a moment enjoying the silence.Quiet, the whole house was still. All that I heard was the faint sound of the wind chimes, like the bells from some distant church. Absolutely everything was perfect. Then, from out of nowhere, I get a miniature sized karate chop to the face.It startled me at first, as it does every morning.Then I roll over to see the cherub like visage of my 1 year old, still sleeping. Her light brown hair lay in a ratted jumble, spread out amongst the pillows and she is completely oblivious to the pain in which she has just inflicted. I smile, how could I not at such a face. So, I lay there, still as a mouse, trying to preserve every last moment of the silence. Oh, how I adore my children when they are asleep. They resemble perfect little angels with their perfect milky skin all aglow, their hair tousled in chaotic perfection, as they lie there in complete peacefulness. I am envious and , at the same time, I feel so much love for them that my heart feels as if I can not contain it. I can not leave the bed of my sweet co sleeper, for fear that the moment that my feet hit the ground, the spell will be broken and she will awake. So, I lie there, for what seems like an eternity, waiting for her to awaken on her own. The silence, really is wonderful. I close my eyes and decide to make the best of it. I resign myself to peacefulness and at the very moment that I settle into sleep, the door bursts open and my 4 year old screams “Good morning , Mama!” Waking her sister, breaking the spell, ending the silence, my sunshine has arrived.
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Bringing Home Baby
I will never forget the moment the nurse came into my hospital room and said, ” OK, as soon as we can get you a wheelchair, you guys can go home.”
She shared a warm, heartfelt smile with the three of us, this new little family of ours. My heart sank, my stomach turned, and my eyes immediately welled up with tears. I was frightened and overwhelmed, excited and ecstatic but I felt like I was going to vomit.
I looked at my, obviously, just as freaked out husband and I whispered, ” Are they really going to let us go home with her?” I knew the answer.
I had been planning on this moment since the moment I knew I was pregnant. But amongst all the anticipation, I had forgotten that, in the end, this tiny, perfect newborn baby was going home with us.
I thought to myself, “My God, what will we do with her? She is so tiny”
In my head, I just knew, she was so perfect. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for messing her up. They make you take a test and get a license to drive a car but no test, no license, no qualifications for taking care of a baby. It really is insane.
At that moment, as we were staring at this tiny little piece of perfection strapped into the giant, all engulfing car seat, scared witless, the nurse came in with the wheelchair. I exhaustedly sat down in the wheel chair and embraced my new life. A baby had changed everything.
I realized that this was truly the first day of the rest of my life. Absolutely everything that I had known up to that point was completely irrelevant in my life and I didn’t care. As they placed my beautiful, little miracle into my lap, our eyes locked and her gaze held me. I fell in love, deeper then anything I have ever known to that point. In that millisecond, I became an extra in my own life and she is the star…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hell on Wheels in Taffeta and a Pink Helmet
As I have mentioned, I am the mommy of two super girls. Bella has recently turned four and her baby sister, Gabs, is about to be two. Saying my hands are full is an understatement, to say the very least but I feel that I handle it well, on most days. But despite my best attempts, I can not be everywhere at all times. It is simply an impossibility.This is an issue because, although Bella is a graceful, princess,ballerina, girly girl, Gabs is a tiny hell on wheels full on daredevil. This is not to say she is a tom boy, not that there is anything wrong with that, she is a daredevil clad in puffy skirts and pig tails, which is much worse because when she does all of her crazy reckless tricks, all you see is bloomers and bruised knees.The thing about Gabs is, and I’m not sure if its her daredevil antics or her unusually large toddler, dome of a head ( although it is absolutely beautiful) but something has absolutely altered her center of gravity. Couple her off quilter gravity with her bad luck and sheer clumsiness and she is truly an emergency room visit waiting to happen. Let me just mention a few of the stunts that have landed us in a mad dash to the pediatricians office, in her almost two years; falling off the changing table, tripping over her own feet and busting her head on the bottom of the bed frame ( yes, the bottom..under the mattress), she has fallen into the corner of a coffee table ( the only one in the house without one of those wonderful child protection corner poofs) busting her head wide open.She has fallen into the wall, fallen off the ottoman onto the wood floor and busted her face, fallen face first into the corner of her sisters dresser because she was climbing over the edge of the bed trying to switch the channel on her sisters TV, and many many other spills and falls while scaling the walls of our house. She is like Spider man without the spidey suction power. Now that I list some of her accidents out loud, poor baby really did inherit Mommy’s clumsiness.She is my joy in life and my smile but she scares the hell out of me, on a daily basis. Today, this one was especially classic and true to Gabs form, she was standing at the window watching the birdies. Screaming “Mommy, buurdie”, when all of the sudden a blood curdling scream. I know what you’re thinking,”Oh,God. She fell through the window”. Thank God, no. So ,I get up to go over to her and she turns around..still screaming. And I swear to you, the metal hair clip that was in her hair ( you know the little metal ones that look like an alligator’s mouth) was attached to the corner of her lip. How it got there or why she didn’t take it off, I have no idea and unfortunately, I cannot ask an almost two year old and get a logical or coherent answer, especially not in that state. What I would give to know the answer to that particular mystery of my life. The moral of the story is…NOW, I know why some little kids walk around with helmets on. Next time you see me, I’ll probably be at Target scoping out a pink princess helmet for everyday wear:)
Rain ,Rain , Go Away..
Why is it that on the days when your children wake up with the greatest amounts of energy and the worst attitudes, the days that they really need to be outside in the fresh air and burn off some of all of that, those are the days it rains? Those are the days that it pours with no chance of clearing up. Don’t get me wrong, my girls are absolute joys most of the time; except when they are hungry, tired, out of their element, slept on the wrong side of the bed, spot the obscure ant in the foyer, and so on and so forth.Those days are another story. But on days when they have lots of energy and ,because of rain, have no means of burning it off, they are truly something special. My day goes something like this, we wake up, they are busting at the seams to do something, anything. I suggest games, painting, drawing, reading, etc, and they tire of each and every activity within minutes.They want to go outside. It is pouring. It is miserable. Yet, still they whine to go outside. My will is breaking, my ears are bleeding, and my head is about to explode.Then it hits me..put the slickers and the rain boots on and go for it.Take ’em outside they won’t melt!(The temp. is around 70 degrees, so its not like it is freezing)They’ll have a blast jumping in puddles, you’ll be relieved of any possibility of your head exploding and you have turned a potential scarring episode into a wonderful memory.Afterall, happiness is not measured by how many times you can win the argument but by how many times you you can avoid an argument and enjoy your children for who they are and not who you think they should be. Hug them and kiss them as often as possible because soon they will be teenagers and want nothing to do with you!
2 year old Selective Hearing Syndrome and other nuggets of wisdom
I have began to wonder why none, not one,of the parenting books mentions that around the age of 2 children develop selective hearing.Hearing only the things that they want to hear and specifically those things that you don’t want them to hear such as the occasional stump your toe curse word or the fact that your friend needs to lose a couple pounds. Of course they choose to hold on to these nuggets until the most inappropriate times for instance, said friend’s nervous breakdown over her looks, or they blurt out some unexpected four lettered gem in the middle of mass.Why is this information not labeled with a warning in the parenting books. Is it just another one of those secrets we keep because it is too much fun to watch the provisionals experience the embarrassment and humiliation that we ourselves did, not so long ago?Beware this is quite frequently co morbid with Constant Repeat disorder. In a nutshell, not unlike my child, your child ignores you and repeats anything they say constantly as to make sure that you have not acquired their selective hearing syndrome.My daughter’s favorite repeat phrase is ” M..o..m…m.y…EAT!” It is usually repeated in sets of no less then 7 times. Furthermore, even more concerning then the 2 year old selective hearing syndrome, there is the very common but temporary ( I am hoping) 4 year old complete deafness disease. This is a little more frustrating because the onset is normally around the age of 3 to 3 and 1/2 years of age and continues on to about the age of 6, only to reappear at around age 11.So, that is something to look forward to in the coming years. My daughter’s particular strain of the disease leaves her completely deaf to any and all requests from her father and I, of any kind, especially those requests that pertain to the well being of her little sister, aforementioned victim of selective hearing syndrome. Sometimes it can be quite scary when you are asking, repeatedly, for the child to stop beating on their sibling, sitting on their sibling,annoying their sibling, doing something dangerous, to eat, be quiet or clean or pick up anything and the child simply does not hear your voice in any form. They become completely oblivious to the parent who is making said requests. Sometimes, we are overcome with the desire to shake said child but don’t give in. At the very moment you move towards the child, like a bunny, they scamper and scurry to another room. Leaving you even more frustrated because with 4 year old complete deafness disease, once in another room deafness is absolute and there is no hope for said child to hear anything you will ever say fro the remainder of the day..possibly ever again!
The TRUTH about Second Baby Syndrome
Second baby syndrome is real and anyone who says it isn’t is a damn liar. Fast forward to two years after the birth of baby Bella. We were blissfully happy with a gorgeous, though demanding toddler (whom I was completely in love with) who wanted all of my time, every single waking moment. She had decided long ago that co-sleeping was the thing for her, and was still in our bed, with no end in sight. Not that I minded, it was comforting to see her tiny cherubesque face in the middle of the night as she head butted me when I awoke for the 100th time to pee because I was 9+ months pregnant. It made it hard to bask in the glory of the pregnancy of baby number 2, when baby number 1 was still a baby.
The second time, I only gained 18, ok 20, lbs. But for some reason I seemed a lot larger. It was pregnancy 2.0 and I was like Godzilla. The first pregnancy was nothing like the second pregnancy. I didn’t start showing until I was 8-months pregnant. I looked a little thicker in the waist but at my baby shower (2 months before my daughter was born) people were teasing me that I didn’t look pregnant. And I really didn’t, well, only in my ass.
There I was, bigger than
beforeever, chasing a sprinting toddler who had the energy of a boxer puppy on crack cocaine, I was absolutely drained. I had all day sickness for 4 months. It was so bad that I had to wear sea sick bands! I looked pretty ridiculous. Motherhood is hard, y’all.No one was quite as impressed that I was pregnant the second time around. Don’t get me wrong, we were all ecstatic. We planned for baby #2, and got pregnant right away, it was just different because the time that I used to bask in all of my procreating glory last time, was now being used to shuttle a 2-year-old to classes, play dates, and constantly trying to explain and prepare her for her coming soon baby sister. I had to prepare myself to go through labor again and come out the other end the mother of two kids.
I was obsessed with making baby # 1 not feel left out or abandoned by the pending arrival of baby #2 so much so that when I actually did go into labor, I only stayed at the hospital long enough to give birth, spend the night and then I went home. I was there about 32 hours total. I blame it on the screen saver on my cell phone. It was my 2-year-old smiling like she was the center of my universe and the guilt that she had to make room for someone else, gutted me completely. The betrayal.
Second baby syndrome was in full force in our home.
I loaded up my brand spanking new baby girl, all the mega maxi pads with wings, mesh panties and Dermoplast they would give me and I went home. But bringing home baby was different than the first time. There was no 15-mile an hour drive home. Step on it, Jeeves, I’ve got a baby at home that needs me. There was no time to recoup as a family. The Big Guy took a week of paternity leave and we took turns staying up with a colicky, jaundiced newborn and quelling the fear of lemurs under beds, singing Wiggles songs and dealing with regression. Second babies are exhausting.
What once was a mandatory 6-weeks before we went out into the world was a day. I had a newborn who needed to be checked. I had a 2-year-old who had classes to attend and play dates. I couldn’t punish her plus, I didn’t want this to be the beginning of years of therapy and sibling rivalry. What used to be packing the equivalent of luggage to leave the house became keys, diapers, wipes, a bottle, snacks and a stroller. Believe me, it was twice the babies and 1/2 the stuff. Baby wrangling is hard, folks.
I spent a lot of those first few weeks reevaluating what motherhood should look like. You know it’s so easy to be a great parent when you don’t have children but once you add real life, breathing, children who you love more than life itself to the mix, things get a little less black and white. I broke all of my own rules. Wiggles in the middle of the night? Sure. Co-sleeping? Absolutely. 5-second rule for the binky, hell yeah! Bottle when needed if the breasts don’t provide enough. Yes, a thousand times yes. Don’t sweat the things that you can’t change. Love your children and do what works for your family. That’s the good stuff; all the love.
Second baby syndrome is awesome.
It means you have a second baby to love and twice the love to receive in return. Who gives a shit if your house looks like it’s been hit by a Tornado? Who cares if your legs haven’t been shaved in 3 weeks. Look at their faces. That is unconditional love and it’s priceless. They grow up. Way too fast. Your house won’t be dirty forever. Before you know it, they won’t need you for everything and soon after that they will need you for even less. Enjoy every minute of it now.
Mother’s Day ;Part Deux!
This morning got off to a rocky start,as you can see from my previous post. But it evolved into a magical evening anyway.Wayne eventually woke up from his sound slumber and realized that it was, in fact, Mother’s Day! He told me to take some time for myself and he would handle the girls. So, I made myself a drink and made my getaway. I headed downstairs to the movie room to finally watch “Twilight”, alone. I don’t think I’ve had the luxury of doing anything “alone” in at least 4 years. It started off nice, actually, quite fantastic.I could smell the delicious dinner that my husband was cooking, as it wafted downstairs through the vents.Turkey and cranberry ravioli and fresh panzanella salad, had become my favorite meal of all time. As I sat in the movie room, in the pitch black, sipping my cocktail, watching the adorably romantic teenage Dracula, my mind began to wander. Wander back to a time when I actually got to sit in complete and utter silence and peace and enjoy a movie in its entirety without someone screaming, or crying, shouting “M..o..m…m..y..Eat!” or asking me continuously for a play by play of what is happening in the movie. My children have an uncanny knack for wanting to converse at the times that necessitate quiet the most; church, movies, weddings, funerals, etc. But as background for the quiet, that I did so enjoy for about 45 minutes, I hear my girls running around and giggling upstairs and it hit me. I’d rather be upstairs with them, then downstairs without them; peace and quiet or not. I came back to reality, left the peace and quiet and came back upstairs, and was greeted by a barrage of hugs and kisses; followed by homemade cards created with love, and a sumptuous dinner made with just as much love. I’d say my Mother’s day was more awesome then I could have hoped for.
Mother’s Day Morning
This morning, I was the first one to wake up. I decided if I wasn’t going to be able to sleep in, then I’d get up and make the most of the morning, alone. I got up and brushed my teeth, and decided to do a mud mask. About 1 minute into my “Me” morning, my youngest baby girl woke up ready for her day, “Mommy..eat!!”
“Ok, honey one sec. Mommy’s almost done ( putting on said mud mask)”.
She’s not having it. In her most persistent sing-songy voice..”M..o..m…m..y….EAT!” “OK, Ok. I am coming”. This is followed by my oldest waking up ( did I mention it’s 7:00 am, early for them). “Mom. Happy mother’s day!” ,”Awww, thanks, sweetie!” “What’s on your face? (with complete and utter disgust)”. As her baby sister, continuously screams…”M…O…M..M..Y, EAT!” She’s getting pissed! All the while, my husband is still sleeping soundly. Oh, I must have got my days crossed…I thought this was Mother’s day…not “Father’s day”! I hope this day gets better from here:)
Irate Mama
OK,so I live by Notre Dame University. Most of you are aware of the current controversy of President Obama delivering the commencement speech. The reason that I am irate is that there is a group that is protesting Obama’s presence on campus in a means that not only boils my blood, it assaults all of my senses! We are driving onto campus to visit the bookstore and as we turn, I see protesters.They are holding banners. On the banners are pictures of not what I would consider aborted fetuses but something more like cut up and burned newborn babies. These pictures are next to a picture of an actual newborn baby, for effect. So, that being what I consider to be a violation of MY freedom is compounded by the fact that my 2 and 4 year old are in the car! Luckily, they did not see it. But what if they had. That could scar a kid for life! Not to mention the discussion that I would have to have with my children explaining not only the photos but that some people have no scruples or tact. So, this all happens and I am livid!! I want to kill somebody because I am incomprehensively offended. We are driving home, through downtown South Bend and much to my dismay, there is not 1 but 2 (yes, 2!!!)moving truck sized trucks traveling at snail speed.As we are quickly approaching, I happen to notice, through my fog of lividness, that there is a huge picture of President Obama on the back with the wording “I am a Christian” on it and then I remember that it has been rumored that there are 2 phantom moving trucks driving around town protesting President Obama. As we get closer, I realize that those same photos that were on poster board and assaulted my senses were now fast approaching on the passenger side. My 4 year old is looking on and the photos of the dismembered newborns ,at least the size of a compact vehicle, were headed straight for her. So, I scream at the top of my lungs, “Close your eyes!!” and ,for once, they listened. Thank God! Because as I turned to face the brutality and sheer monstrosity of what was the side of that truck, I was met with vulgarity and filled with disgust. Disgust for these people who would risk exposing children to these photos, to win an argument. I think it should be against the law to force me to look at these graphic photos. Of course, they are not the Pro Choice group, so I guess they have no regard for my choice in any matter! Words cannot even begin to convey how very offended I am by these photos and these people. They are infringing on MY right to freedom! They are so concerned about the intimate details and business of others ,yet, they have no issue doing something equally as disgusting as what they are fighting against. They are exploiting these photos. OK,to be clear I am Catholic and I do not particularly believe in or lobby for abortion but I do respect basic human rights.And I think that the right to CHOICE is the biggest one and I also think that the privacy of our own bodies is ours, but most importantly, I think that showing these pictures is vulgar, disgusting and irresponsible because there are a lot of children in South Bend, being scarred for life because they people are ignorant, inconsiderate a**holes!