Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Spring Break?

Opie and Evan treated me to a night of zero sleep. YAY!

Undaunted, Evan woke up before 6.
It CANT be morning. NO! The light! It burns!

Have I ever mentioned that mornings are my kryptonite on the best of days? Today was ugly.

This morning I turned on the TV so I could shower. But really, I closed the door and went comatose. I hid in the bathroom so long with my Kindle that Opie woke up. Which meant that I went to Target sans shower. I matched my kids. They refused to get dressed so I took them in their jammies. A sight to behold. Really, I should be pleased that they were wearing more than their undies. (Let me clarify. I did not match my kids entirely. I WAS wearing clothing. Not my robe like I wanted.)

When they weren't begging me to buy them ridiculous things, (Eli cried because I would not buy him a NB sized Batman onesie)  Eli and Evan screamed throughout the store. After they punched each other countless times. Every time I stopped the cart, Evan would sprint from the cart to the nearest item, pick it up and shake it. It didn't matter what it was, it was all treated the same.

So I concluded my shopping on the fly; clumsily grabbing what I needed without ever stopping my cart of screaming nut jobs.

I am lobbying for a Spring Break of my own.

Until that happens, my kids will watch Frozen. Every. Day.
Clearly traumatized.


Going to bed proud that we all survived another day.


Saturday, March 22, 2014

the End of an Era

Today marks the end of an era. Today, it was time to say goodbye. The parting was so difficult that I made my husband do the dirty work. Sometimes bonds are so strong and true that severing them seems unfeasible. A neutral party is recommended.

Every once in a while, you meet someone out of the blue and a friendship is immediate.  That relationship fills a need that you didn't even know you had. You know you will feel safe and supported; understood and treasured, in a matter of minutes. Those instances are precious and rare and should be celebrated.

That is what happened the day I tried on and bought this particular pair of maternity jeans.

http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?pid=946129002&vid=1&locale=en_US&kwid=1&sem=false&sdkw=maternity-the-rockstar-low-panel-super-skinny-jeans-P946129&brandCvoSid=7X39UR3TRJDQ&sdReferer=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.oldnavy.com%2Fproducts%2Fmaternity-jeans.jsp

Oh I was a bundle of nerves being pregnant again. This pair of jeans cradled me and supported me all the way to Ukraine and back. As my belly and acceptance grew, these jeans never failed to embrace all of me. Giving me just the support that I needed.


I am sure you sometimes felt like it was all too much. I was so needy and the burden of that need must have worn you out. Despite that, you always rose to the occasion. You held yourself together and me in the process, and you looked good doing so.

Over use and repeated washes sometimes strained our relationship but a lunge or two got us right back on track. Perfectly comfortable, without fail.

So what if every time I bent over you revealed a secret or two. No friendship is perfect. I loved you anyways.

I loved you so much that nearly a year after giving birth I am saying a most melancholy goodbye.

Thank you dear friend for joining me on this journey. For never failing to fit me like a glove (kind of.) For the lack of judgement every time I called you into duty after I had Opie. For sharing my secrets at the most inopportune times. You never balked at the opportunity to give me what I needed.

For that I thank you and I mourn the loss of you.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Three

((I wrote this last week. I just came home from vacation where I had my husband and my mother in law with me for 4 awesome days. And now I am home and the lack of adult company is shocking my system. So I decided to go ahead and post this.))


They lied. 3 is the loneliest number; not 1. Everyday I am surrounded by 3 people that never stop making noise but I have not spoken to another adult in 4 days now. How can that happen? I am not terribly introverted and yet, it happens so easily.

When it was just Eli at home with me, I got out and about often. Time with girlfriends was easy to squeeze in. Eli just came with me. Easy! With 3 at home, I have neither the time or energy to try to get out. Bringing three kids along to visit with friends is no break at all.  I have nothing in place to force myself out. I find myself chatting with Eli's preschool teacher as if she is my long lost friend. I adore her but she is not there for my desperate verbal dump every Tuesday and Thursday.

Since our family exploded from 1 child to 3 in a matter of months, my husband seems to travel more. Take more phone calls after 5 and now is taking vacations without us. This may be my skewed perspective but either way; I can't really blame him. Life in our house is crazy. It is chaos. Noise personified. I know I shouldn't have taken this video today, but sometimes the noise level is just madness. Sometimes you have to see for yourself....so you are welcome to a peek into my insanity.



I am learning that most parents, myself included are simply trying to survive and provide the best upbringing they can for their children. It is not always pretty. It rarely looks the way you thought it would before you had kids. I may not understand how another parent chooses to survive; let alone my husband.  That is not really my place to judge, so here is my public apology to my husband. Survive. Try to enjoy the journey while you are on it. Your family loves and needs you to be here, to enjoy us and to be present. I understand that this is not always easy or fun. There are no do-overs. So, survive how you will, but please remember your wife is over here trying to survive as well.


I feel like I have been spending far too much energy trying to convince him how awesome this chaos is. How lovely his children are. This is my fail. They ARE awesome and no PR campaign is needed. Perhaps I am trying to convince myself as well? The level of chaos and work that these 3 require is shocking at times. It is a waste of energy to try to convince someone else of its awesomeness. You cannot force someone to be where they do not want to be...well you can if they are under 5 years of age, but even that take so much effort.

I found myself pulling out all the stops short of screaming "We are so awesome! Don't you just love us?" I have even stooped to wearing my sexy jammies all day long. See honey. .. aren't you a lucky, lucky man?

Grrrr. This IS sexy. And yes, the room is a MESS. 

Silliness.

My husband clearly loves his children. His family. He does, I know this. How he shows it and how he manages stress is his prerogative and if I spend my time trying to convince some else how lovely this madness is, I lose a little bit of the magic myself. It feels forced. It is terrible and awesome at the same time. It is not for everyone. Sometimes it is not for me, but there you have it. It is my own personal dream and nightmare simultaneously.

So it is lonely. I am surrounded by people that never. stop. talking. Never stop wanting hugs, kisses, feeds, snuggles. Butts need wiped. Owies kissed. My day is filled with interaction and affection. SO MANY NEEDS. ALL. THE. TIME. At the end of the day, I collapse. The last thing on my mind is trying to carry on a conversation. I have nothing left. So I go to bed and start the madness over again the next day. More noise, more demands, more loves. More. More. More.  And THIS is the loneliest that I have ever been. Sometimes it is downright numbing.

So to all you lonely Mamas out there, you are not as alone as you feel. Other Mothas are out there feeling the same as you. Motherhood can be isolating and lonely. Overwhelming an ugly. We all know it is worth it and has moments of utter joy followed by moments of despair. That is parenthood. If you can find the time and energy to reach out, to schedule time for you, do it. If not, hang in there, it will get easier. And know that I am there with you in spirit. . . .drowning in the noisiest, loneliest period of my life.

One day, as unfathomable as it seems, we will all look back on this time with an aching wistfulness. Wishing that our children overwhelmed us with need and love again.

So, interact when you can.

Pat yourself on the back more than you think you deserve.

Talk to your husband about how you feel.

Phone a friend that will not expect you to contribute to a phone conversation.

Dig in your heels.

Survive.

Empty yourself out for your children.

Let God carry you a bit and know....grace comes when you least expect it.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Sponge-Worthy

Actions speak loudest.

I say it frequently.

Funny, right?

Mayhaps I should find a way to mime it. Kids read your actions and routines, tone and delivery far more readily than the message your words are trying to convey.










Kids pick up what is important to you. They see and interpret more than you can imagine. Actions should speak of love. Security. They should speak this unconditionally.






It is incredible what they make of it.



My message and goal for this weekend.

Whatever you bring to the table. Make it count. 

Be Sponge Worthy. 




Thursday, March 6, 2014

The wind beneath my.....

I wanted a minivan. I was pregnant and there was no way 3 car seats were going to fit in the back of our car. I begged, I pleaded, I lobbied and eventually I won. Kind of.

We live in a delightfully wet part of the nation. It rains 478 days a year. I am not even exaggerating. My most fervent argument for the minivan hinged on this precipitation. I did NOT want to buckle in my kids and then run around to the other side of the car to buckle more kids in. . .then load groceries or what not...all in the rain. I wanted my kids to get in....climb in after them and buckle them all up in the luxurious dry minivan of my dreams.

We got a minivan. A mini-minivan. I do love it except when it rains. So really, I have a love-hate relationship with it 478+days each year.

I have one car seat in the center of the back row and each seat in the middle row has a car seat on it. Okay? See how cozy it is in there??
So here is what happens: I snap Pookie into his car seat. Then I run around the car and buckle Evan in. Then I climb half into the van, leaning over Evan to buckle Eli in...all the while my tush in in the air.

Except for this morning. My ass was hanging out in the rain. The top half of my bod was nice and dry in my *ahem* luxurious minivan while Eli decided to examine every inch of the car before finally climbing in his seat. Did I mention that I had donned a skirt today? That happens when I actually shave my legs. So, about once a year. Mmmhmm.

By the time the bigguns were all buckled in, my skirt was plastered to my derriere.It was a comfortable drive to school! "Mama wet her pants!" The above routine unfolds again, but in reverse once at school. So Pookie and I are standing in the rain while Slow-Mo Jo and his even slower brother decide to exit the vehicle.

They finally reach the pavement and I turn to close the door. Trusty gusty wind chose that moment to blow my skirt up and pelt my butt with rain. PELT. The whole parking lot got a nice view of my Costco undies since I had no free hand to pull my skirt down. Good thing I opted for the Grannie Panties!

This did not elevate my mood.

Only my skirt.


Monday, March 3, 2014

POETRY COMPETITION!

Oh Sunday. Spent on a wild goose chase instead of blogging. I am disappointed. I sprinted the whole race only to face plant a foot before the finish line. 6 out of 7 posts.

I am a tad competitive so I WILL be writing my 7th post. Just a day late.

Yesterday was nuts. I was on a mad-dash hunt for old man wares. You know- Black socks with sandals, Hawaiian shirt...you get the picture.
Photo credit: davidpbrown via Visualhunt / CC BY

A family member was turning 40 and I wanted to help usher him into this new era of fashion. After hours of searching....I had black socks in my possession. Great 40th birthday present, eh? Happy birthday...have some black socks.

Fail.

I gave up and said 40 year old got a gift card.....Sleep deprivation. You are NO FRIEND OF MINE.

Last night was painful again. I have no idea why my son will not sleep. He just wont. I have tried everything. Everything.

So, last night I chose to focus my irritation on my sweet hubby and when that failed to satisfy, I turned to poetry.

Mmmhmm.


SO, here is my thought. A giveaway and a contest. I am going to whack 2 birds with one stone!

Submit a poem in the comments about turning 40 OR sleep deprivation and you will be entered to win some black socks. They are nice. . .. complete with gold toes. I KNOW you want them.


Here is my poem from 3 am:

Oh Night! Oh! Torturous Night!
How I long to pass 
Unaware through your inky depths.
Straight and true til light breaks through
Awakened better for the time spent in your dark embrace
Oh Night! Oh Never-ending Night!



Saturday, March 1, 2014

DAY 6- Who's Your Daddy?

I would have posted earlier but Saturdays tend to be one big ball of chaos in my house. Somehow we get through the week and it all falls apart. I cannot get out of my robe, the boys are in their jammies at noon...you get the picture. 
I spent a large portion of my day watching Pookie Pants crawl. Cheering him on as he crawls. Getting video of him crawling....and so on. 

This milestone has made it clear that my baby is getting big! His first birthday is right around the corner. As I snuggled and read to Eli tonight I remembered when he was crawling and learning to walk. Oh, the bumps and bruises he got! He was such a rough and tumble kid. Opie is not so hardy. I can't help but rescue him as he tries to climb up the coffee table. Already!??!? He just started crawling yesterday and already he is moving on to pulling himself up. Yikes!

I decided to compare Eli and Opie at nearly a year. Eli had a mouth full of teeth already! I don't really see the similarity between the two. Both are my sweet boys and both are mine. That's what is important to me.  



 Same seat. Both in stripes. Hair parted on the same side....chubby fingers. I think the resemblance stops there....This is strange for me since my siblings and I all look SO MUCH alike!


My sons don't seem to look alike. So who exactly does Opie look like? 
Yup. Uncanny. Still no response from Papa Hanks. 


Sorry for the light content today. It is SATURDAY! My brain is definitely off-duty today!

I’m writing seven posts in seven days this week. To check out other bloggers who are doing the same, see the list here.