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The TRUTH About Motherhood

Tag: children

  • PMS and Motherhood

    PMS~ There is Premenstrual Syndrome, more aptly called the one week a month that I hate all living creatures for even having the gall to breathe, little lone have the audacity to speak to me or ask me for anything at all.But then there is the ever so lovely, PMS and having the responsibility of mothering. Are you effing kidding me? Who ever thought this was a good idea? Come on, it is not an understatement to say it is potentially as deadly a mix as pills and booze.

    My dearly beloved husband has departed (no he’s not dead…yet) to the great state of Virginia, for business leaving me, with my last shreds of sanity, alone with my two beautiful girls.

    ALONE with PMS!

    I have been trying my best to keep them occupied, so they don’t feel the void of their father’s presence as much as they might, say sitting around the house doing nothing. We have been running to and fro, engaging in every last activity I can come up with. This is being done for a dual purpose; 1) to keep my daughters’ completely preoccupied with other activities so they are not missing daddy too much ( and constantly whining about it, as they have so boldly demonstrated they are quite capable of doing) and 2)to keep my house in spic and span condition on the rare chance that there is someone in this world who is actually looking to buy an awesome house in a great subdivision in this awful economy. This has been my life since my husband has made his departure. And if I may say so, myself, I have been doing a damn good job at both, though tiring and nerve racking as it has been.

    PMS you Sneaky Bitch! I’m busy! Go away!

    Then, from out of nowhere, since I myself have been so preoccupied with all of these activities and have forgotten the beast from within that never misses her visit, she arrives and she is taking no prisoners. I have been ripping heads off of cable companies, phone companies, and even the occasional bystander for 2 days now.I had the good sense of self awareness to realize what was happening, while I was visiting my parents and my 4 year old, who has decided she can’t hear anymore, had a sleep deprived melt down and wanted to leave my mothers house…at bedtime. Yes, at bedtime! This happened after, the previous night, her 2 year old sister had decided that she wasn’t caring for sleeping (all three of us) in Grandma’s full sized bed and proceeded to punish me by screaming ,sporadically, without cause, at the top of her lungs… all night long. Yes, ladies, all night long. Remember those nights with a newborn, when you were so sleep deprived that you prayed for death, just so that you could sleep? This was way worse. Anyways, back to the meltdown, so rather than calm her down, soothing her, and coaxing her to lay down at Grandma’s like I normally would have done. I said, “OK, go potty!” and I proceeded to chuck every bit of crap we brought into the back of my SUV..with the speed of lightening and the fury of the a goat on crack. My parents watched silently and my children, being that they are apparently aware that Mommy gets a little crazy once a month, were unaffected. They simply said their good byes to the grandparents and ignored my mood completely.

    Driving home, completely besot with myself, and completely over my kids meltdown, it hit me…” You crazy bitch, calm down. It’s PMS week” We, Ella, Abbi and myself (Sybil for the week) made it home without any real incident. That night, as I put them in bed and looked at their sweet little faces, I thought to myself, do these kids know how truly dangerous their Mama’s PMS really is? Luckily not. Normally, my husband is here to offset the true glory that is my PMS but with him gone, I was left to deal with it all on my own and it was not pretty. I spoke with my husband and let him know that I am having my beast visit this week. He is coming home, after two weeks of being gone, his response to me was ,”Oh God. Can it be over by the time I get there?” Luckily for him, I was not in the throes of the syndrome or that could of warranted him a tongue lashing to not soon be forgotten, at the very least. I have come to the conclusion through this ordeal that it should be a law of nature that once you have children you no longer can experience the “syndrome.” It truly is quite counter productive and very much as reckless and deadly as “Pills and booze”.Of course, if pills and booze were involved I believe I would be much more likable this week anyways. But alas, as does mothering and PMS not mix neither does mothering and pills or booze. As all good mothers do, I will suck it up and put on a happy face. My girls are awesome blessings and as long as I can keep that in perspective maybe I can keep the beast at bay, at least until my husband gets home:)

    PMS, You may have Won the Battle but Not the War!

  • Breaking up is hard to do

    Breaking Up is hard to do~ We’ve all been there. That’s moment in a relationship when you know its not going anywhere, and its certainly not moving forward, that’s the moment that you know its over. Your challenge is to decide whether to let it die a slow painful death or to end it quickly, and just pull it off like a band aid on a hairy arm and pray for not too much collateral damage. After the breakup, you might even need some coping tactics, such as a breakup recovery course, just to revitalize yourself. We expect these situations when we are dating but not when we are play dating. But alas, it happens, and more often than not, I suspect.

    It starts off innocent enough, you have a friend whom you know, however well, and one, or both of you, has the brilliant idea to form a sorority of friendship held together by the glue that is our children. Then one, or both of you, decides to enlist other friends or acquaintances into said group because, after all, the bigger the better. A seemingly perfect scenario of coffee amongst the pitter patter of little feet, quickly evolves into headaches amongst screaming children, at the very least. There you are with a group of strangers, that you may or may not have anything in common with, vying for one anther’s attention. People start to clique off but amongst it all there is an eerie façade of equal friendship. That “OMG, we are all so great. I love you all so much” bullshit that you keep spoon feeding one another because you are afraid if you are human and don’t love every single one of them, or at least pretend to do so, you will be known for the truly horrible bitch that you really are. It’s frigging high school with babies. Now, there are a lot of benefits to joining these groups for example; you meet women who are , at the very least, in the exact same situation as you are, as far as having children and raising them ( most times that is where the similarities end. It is sorta like lobbying to your family why you are dating a certain gentleman with the only weapon in your arsenal being that he is a human being. Not much of an argument after all).

    Joining play date groups gives you an opportunity to get advice, share war stories, feel safe, get guidance in where to go and what to do with your lovely, beautiful fruit of your loins. It sounds fantastic doesn’t it? It also gives us a place to be judged at every choice we make concerning our children, its like inviting other women into your life and licensing them to insult you, not only with their words but with their thoughts and actions. After all, they are Super Moms and you are a mere human so if you don’t see it their way and have no remorse about your imperfection, well then , you deserved to be damned to hell. How could every single woman in the world not want this peace, loving ,warm ,frigging, fuzzy feeling? Have we been idiots up until now and where would we be? How would we function without the great invention of play dates?
    We’d be happy and a lot less insecure and probably less judgmental and a little more caring and fulfilled. I love my “play date moms”, that’s what we refer to one another as because God, knows we seldom evolve past that point. If you can maintain superficial friendships, and hang out with women that you have nothing in common with ( other than both having children), and this doesn’t bother you…then play dates are the place for you. I have made a couple of truly remarkable friends amongst my “Play date Moms”. Real, honest to goodness friends who I would like whether they had children or not. It just helps that they have kids because that way we have one more thing in common( partial sanity) and we are in a similar place in our lives, which is always beneficial to a friendship . The other way around being friends only because you both have kids, is sorta like being friends because you both have brown hair or teeth. It’s ridiculous.

    My experience has been not unlike that of my experience with my boyfriend at 15, somebody is crazy for somebody and someone else doesn’t care. You both start out in a relationship all excited about this journey and then about 15 minutes in , you realize that you are truly up a creek without a paddle; only it feels more like you’re in the ocean. One person wants to spend every waking moment together, infiltrating every single facet of your life and the other is running for their life in the opposite direction. It’s like there is no in between, there is no common ground so there is only one thing left to do, break up.
    The word is so dreaded; all the connotations are negative. There is nothing positive about breaking up. It is admitting failure and you know how us women are, we hate that. So, we try to force them to break up with us, after all, we know we want out so they are not really ending it; we are, they just don’t know it. Seldom does that work. We try avoiding them, not returning phone calls, emails, we even simply just don’t show up. But it doesn’t work. You know why? Because she won’t give up either, she doesn’t want to admit failure that she couldn’t make this relationship work. It is a vicious cycle. The children are being drug all over town, why Mommies smile their Vaseline smiles with absolutely no sincere feelings , at all, behind them. Rooms are filled with the buzzing of absolutely nothing of importance being said, mixed with the latest gossip of those who had the misfortune of not attending and it is all thinly veiled as concern. Pish Posh , I say. Finally, some one’s got to be the adult and put an end to this madness. In your most grown up, unbiased, level headedness, you excuse yourself from the group. You simply inform them that though they are wonderful, (they are not for you:) something has come up and it is better to remove yourself from the play date roster. In the end, you are still going out revealed as the ” the truly horrible bitch that you are.” That which you tried to avoid from the get go. So, you see breaking up is sometimes almost impossible to do, even with the best intentions. Who knew breaking up with a group of ladies was going to be harder than breaking up with an obsessed 15 year old boy?

  • Being honest with yourself

    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.

  • Bringing Home Baby

    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!

  • 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!