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If you are looking for a hardcore, cross-trained workout routine, one need only look at the mother of two young children.
Aerobics -- Chase after a potty training child while she runs giggling through the house with no pants on. Repeat 3-5 times daily.
Weight lifting -- Carry children who are clearly of age to walk themselves. Start with younger child and work up to school age child. Be sure to switch sides during carrying to ensure a balanced work-out. Add piggy backs, monkey hangs, and upside down swings, as desired.
Calisthenics -- Lean down and pick-up laundry strewn throughout the house. Be sure that clothing is placed far enough apart to require a unique bend-down ensuring multiple bends at the waist and several steps between. Note: Toys, sippy cups, or other childhood accessories may be used in place of clothing, as appropriate. Hallways are especially effective for this exercise.
Cardio -- (For those parenting in the multi-level home) Run up and down the stairs. Sources of this activity can include but are not limited to the following: 1) running to children who are screaming incessantly due to an unending need for food, drink, or dispensation of an argument with other sibling, 2) discovery that any item needed regardless of its owner or home location will always be on the other floor, and/or 3) discovery that said item once retrieved was nonetheless left behind as one of the previous two events happened during its retrieval and thus a round trip on the stairwell is required yet again to retrieve the item.
For full cross-training effect, an obstacle course of laundry baskets, toys, and other misplaced household items is suggested. Repeat daily.
Olympics, here I come!
(I once heard that an Olympic triathlete was hired to follow a two year-old for a day to test their endurance levels and he gave up after a couple of hours. And that's what we moms do everyday. Maybe we need to start our own games.)
P.S. Now that my husband is safely positioned in the Arctic -- a big shout out to my Canadian friends, my husband is now in your Northernmost region -- and I have survived my first full week back to teaching, I am getting back to my real life. You know the bloggy world. I should be around catching up with you all soon. :-)
Showing posts with label Mommyhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mommyhood. Show all posts
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Day 271 or Living in the Chaos
I love my children.
I love the look of them. I love their smiles. I love, Love, LOVE the way my daughter tucks her hands under her chin when she sleeps and how my son can't help but make a goofy face when a picture is taken.
I love the way they smell. Well, most of the time. I love my daughter's hair after a wash and my son's breath when he blows in my face to prove he's brushed his teeth (when he has actually brushed his teeth, that is!).
But I don't always love the SOUND of them.
I love to hear them when they whisper secrets in my ears. I adore their giggles. I love their little kid dialects. How they shape their words. I love it when my daughter sings -- at least for the first six times I hear the song of choice. I love when my son tells me (in extensive detail) his favorite films and stories.
What I don't love is that building roar when the two are overtired yet insistent that they play together. When there is just a little too much excitement in their voices. They are having fun but I can't enjoy it because I KNOW where this is going. In moments we will descend into bickering, in to the "he hit me", "no, she hit me", so on and so forth. There is a certain pitch and decibel that I have come to recognize as the precursor to the descent. The quick ride down to Crazy Momma Ville.
Tonight I caught myself in one of these moments. The kids are soooo happy. They are playing happily. Whatever may happen later, why can't I embrace this moment? Why can't I enjoy where they are now without worrying where they will be in five minutes?
I think that this is a metaphor for my life. As a mother. As a wife. As me! I need to enjoy the laughter, the craziness, the chaos of life a little bit more. Relax into it. Live it without feeling the need to slam my foot on the brake. I'm so worried of where it might go that I never truly take the ride and find out.
Now in tonight's case, we did dip close to the Danger Zone, but even without my bellowing to cut it out before someone got hurt, they survived. I survived. And I got just a couple more moments to enjoy them. And that makes it all worthwhile.
I love the look of them. I love their smiles. I love, Love, LOVE the way my daughter tucks her hands under her chin when she sleeps and how my son can't help but make a goofy face when a picture is taken.
I love the way they smell. Well, most of the time. I love my daughter's hair after a wash and my son's breath when he blows in my face to prove he's brushed his teeth (when he has actually brushed his teeth, that is!).
But I don't always love the SOUND of them.
I love to hear them when they whisper secrets in my ears. I adore their giggles. I love their little kid dialects. How they shape their words. I love it when my daughter sings -- at least for the first six times I hear the song of choice. I love when my son tells me (in extensive detail) his favorite films and stories.
What I don't love is that building roar when the two are overtired yet insistent that they play together. When there is just a little too much excitement in their voices. They are having fun but I can't enjoy it because I KNOW where this is going. In moments we will descend into bickering, in to the "he hit me", "no, she hit me", so on and so forth. There is a certain pitch and decibel that I have come to recognize as the precursor to the descent. The quick ride down to Crazy Momma Ville.
Tonight I caught myself in one of these moments. The kids are soooo happy. They are playing happily. Whatever may happen later, why can't I embrace this moment? Why can't I enjoy where they are now without worrying where they will be in five minutes?
I think that this is a metaphor for my life. As a mother. As a wife. As me! I need to enjoy the laughter, the craziness, the chaos of life a little bit more. Relax into it. Live it without feeling the need to slam my foot on the brake. I'm so worried of where it might go that I never truly take the ride and find out.
Now in tonight's case, we did dip close to the Danger Zone, but even without my bellowing to cut it out before someone got hurt, they survived. I survived. And I got just a couple more moments to enjoy them. And that makes it all worthwhile.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Day 245 or Kids Say the Beautifulest Things
Remember that show "Kids Say the Darndest Things"? First, it was Art Linkletter and then it was Bill Cosby. The set-up was that children were asked seemingly innocuous questions and then the children would answer, well like... children.
I sure wish that show was still around because my children would be excellent candidates. I wish that I could remember everything cute that they say but it's impossible. But below is an example of what I would call, "Kids Say the Beautifulest Things".
As many of you know, we lost my FIL earlier this year. On a daily basis, the following conversation happens.
Daughter: Mommy, did (Grandpa) die?
Me: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right, baby.
But this week, the following elements were added.
D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels. He's in the charge of the music.
On another occasion, we were in the car with my son.
D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right.
Son: Mommy, do you know who else is with (GP) and the angels?
M: Who?
S: Tuna Boy (our beloved cat that we lost in December). Tuna Boy loves to dance.
These conversations so touch my heart because we think that kids can't handle things like death. We think that they have no understanding of Heaven and then, as per usual, I learn my greatest lessons from them.
They miss their (GP) and their cat. But when they ask about them, it is never with fear or sadness but with the innocence of a child learning to understand why something he/she loves is no longer with them. My daughter asks the questions EVERY day with the same freshness but each time, her answer is a little more resolved. If only I could be that way in my life with much smaller things, much less on something as profound as death.
Before, I fog up my screen with my mistiness at my own children, I will close with one last observation from my daughter. I think it says it all.
D: Mommy, is (GP) in my heart?
M: Yes, Baby. He will always be in your heart.
D: Is he in your heart?
M: Yes, Baby. Whenever we love someone, they are always in our heart.
D: Oh.... Am I in your heart?
M: Of course.
D: Okay. You're in my heart, too.
I sure wish that show was still around because my children would be excellent candidates. I wish that I could remember everything cute that they say but it's impossible. But below is an example of what I would call, "Kids Say the Beautifulest Things".
As many of you know, we lost my FIL earlier this year. On a daily basis, the following conversation happens.
Daughter: Mommy, did (Grandpa) die?
Me: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right, baby.
But this week, the following elements were added.
D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes, Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels. He's in the charge of the music.
On another occasion, we were in the car with my son.
D: Mommy, did (GP) die?
M: Yes Baby. Where is (GP)?
D: In Heaven with the angels.
M: That's right.
Son: Mommy, do you know who else is with (GP) and the angels?
M: Who?
S: Tuna Boy (our beloved cat that we lost in December). Tuna Boy loves to dance.
These conversations so touch my heart because we think that kids can't handle things like death. We think that they have no understanding of Heaven and then, as per usual, I learn my greatest lessons from them.
They miss their (GP) and their cat. But when they ask about them, it is never with fear or sadness but with the innocence of a child learning to understand why something he/she loves is no longer with them. My daughter asks the questions EVERY day with the same freshness but each time, her answer is a little more resolved. If only I could be that way in my life with much smaller things, much less on something as profound as death.
Before, I fog up my screen with my mistiness at my own children, I will close with one last observation from my daughter. I think it says it all.
D: Mommy, is (GP) in my heart?
M: Yes, Baby. He will always be in your heart.
D: Is he in your heart?
M: Yes, Baby. Whenever we love someone, they are always in our heart.
D: Oh.... Am I in your heart?
M: Of course.
D: Okay. You're in my heart, too.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Day 235 or You Say Yes...
I say NO! No, no, no!
You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don't know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello
Hello
Hela, heba helloa
Hela, heba helloa
This is the quality of conversations around my house tonight. Ever have one of those? The Beatles may not have been singing about 3 and 6 year olds but they might has well have been. Tonight is one of those nights where the delta between the mom I want to be and the mom I am being is quite wide -- Continental Divide-like even.
This is not the post I intended to write. I wanted to share an update on my 2010 Bucket List -- I found a fabulous charity that has spoken to my heart. A charity I want to share with my children and with you. But somehow my fingers are not typing that post. That post will have to wait for another day. A day wherein I feel inspired because that post requires inspiration. Something that I have little of this evening.
Tonight is not that night for that post. Tonight, I am going to close up the laptop and say goodbye or as my children would probably say right now, hello.
You say yes, I say no
You say stop and I say go, go, go
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don't know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
Hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye
I say hello
hello, hello
I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello
Hello
Hela, heba helloa
Hela, heba helloa
This is the quality of conversations around my house tonight. Ever have one of those? The Beatles may not have been singing about 3 and 6 year olds but they might has well have been. Tonight is one of those nights where the delta between the mom I want to be and the mom I am being is quite wide -- Continental Divide-like even.
This is not the post I intended to write. I wanted to share an update on my 2010 Bucket List -- I found a fabulous charity that has spoken to my heart. A charity I want to share with my children and with you. But somehow my fingers are not typing that post. That post will have to wait for another day. A day wherein I feel inspired because that post requires inspiration. Something that I have little of this evening.
Tonight is not that night for that post. Tonight, I am going to close up the laptop and say goodbye or as my children would probably say right now, hello.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Day 227 or UBP,May I Introduce Myself
Hi Everyone. For those of you who have previously joined me over the last 226 days, please forgive me for any boring, seemingly repetitive information -- well, not seemingly repetitive, probably actually repetitive. Nonetheless, please bear with me. Don' run away screaming or worse, skulk away as if you were never here (yes, I used skulk. I knew one day I would find an opportunity to use a 13th century Scandinavian word. Pretty good for a little Texan girl. But I digress -- don't do it. No skulking!)
So for those of you still with me, here's the Reader's Digest story of my life in the blogging world. About a month after turning 38 (hence the title), I found myself a SAHM in a new town. I say found myself which is ironic (not in the Alanis Morisette way) because I was very lost. I had not succeeded in the dreams of my 20s yet I had a good life. I was blessed with a fabulous family but I had nothing that was challenging me, driving me. And I had aways been driven. I'm a famously hard worker. So besides volunteering for WAY too many PTA committees (See here), what was a girl to do?
So on a girls' night with my best friend of almost 30 years, I saw the film, "Julie and Julia" and I saw something in myself in both of the women. They were women that had a lot in life but no direction, no sense of themselves in those lives. So Julia started cooking (SOOOOOO not gonna happen) but Julie started a blog and I thought "I could do that!" So I did. I started a blog. Just like that. On a whim. And basically, my husband and brother read it.
Then I got brave and told some old friends. And a few read. But one very special friend from one of my many former lives (Unknown Mami) told me a funny thing. She blogged, too. For some of the same reasons. And for reasons of her own (the beauty of blogging). And she taught me how to find other blogs and helped other bloggers find me. She taught me etiquette. But mostly, she taught me that the blogging world was safe and for that I am forever grateful to that beautiful unknown mamasita in the MOST beautiful city in the world. She knows this already but I truly left my heart there.
So I started to see people's names show up after my posts. And these names had things to say. To tell me that my hair wouldn't be orange forever, that I am NOT the worst mom in the world, that the pain of loss would pass, and that somehow I mattered in this world, in THEIR world. Wow! If you knew what a softy I was, you'd know that I am crying now. Literally right now -- salty keyboard, yuck! Oh and I am listening to Barry Manilow which doesn't help. Mandy gets me every time.
So that's it. Over time, I have made beautiful friendships, I have gotten to know myself a little more. I have gotten braver and I am finding myself a little less lost (slightly less ironic use of finding). I ramble. I am goofy (well established!) I am an imperfect mom, an out-of-work actress, an aspiring screenwriter (and actress, still, despite all logic or sense of reality), a lover of books with no time to read, and most days, pretty nice. So that's my intro. If you're not frightened off, great! Stay and have some fun. If you're on the fence -- read here (it's all the scary things you should know up front). And if you now feel like you have wasted precious minutes of your life (especially if you clicked any of the links), well I can't exactly blame you. I am not every one's cup of tea. But as I approach 39, I have finally become MY cup of tea.
Oh, and if you are not bored with me yet, I review kid's movies over at I'd Let My Kid See That and my husband and I are trying to live a little greener over at Cold Comfort Living.
So for those of you still with me, here's the Reader's Digest story of my life in the blogging world. About a month after turning 38 (hence the title), I found myself a SAHM in a new town. I say found myself which is ironic (not in the Alanis Morisette way) because I was very lost. I had not succeeded in the dreams of my 20s yet I had a good life. I was blessed with a fabulous family but I had nothing that was challenging me, driving me. And I had aways been driven. I'm a famously hard worker. So besides volunteering for WAY too many PTA committees (See here), what was a girl to do?
So on a girls' night with my best friend of almost 30 years, I saw the film, "Julie and Julia" and I saw something in myself in both of the women. They were women that had a lot in life but no direction, no sense of themselves in those lives. So Julia started cooking (SOOOOOO not gonna happen) but Julie started a blog and I thought "I could do that!" So I did. I started a blog. Just like that. On a whim. And basically, my husband and brother read it.
Then I got brave and told some old friends. And a few read. But one very special friend from one of my many former lives (Unknown Mami) told me a funny thing. She blogged, too. For some of the same reasons. And for reasons of her own (the beauty of blogging). And she taught me how to find other blogs and helped other bloggers find me. She taught me etiquette. But mostly, she taught me that the blogging world was safe and for that I am forever grateful to that beautiful unknown mamasita in the MOST beautiful city in the world. She knows this already but I truly left my heart there.
So I started to see people's names show up after my posts. And these names had things to say. To tell me that my hair wouldn't be orange forever, that I am NOT the worst mom in the world, that the pain of loss would pass, and that somehow I mattered in this world, in THEIR world. Wow! If you knew what a softy I was, you'd know that I am crying now. Literally right now -- salty keyboard, yuck! Oh and I am listening to Barry Manilow which doesn't help. Mandy gets me every time.
So that's it. Over time, I have made beautiful friendships, I have gotten to know myself a little more. I have gotten braver and I am finding myself a little less lost (slightly less ironic use of finding). I ramble. I am goofy (well established!) I am an imperfect mom, an out-of-work actress, an aspiring screenwriter (and actress, still, despite all logic or sense of reality), a lover of books with no time to read, and most days, pretty nice. So that's my intro. If you're not frightened off, great! Stay and have some fun. If you're on the fence -- read here (it's all the scary things you should know up front). And if you now feel like you have wasted precious minutes of your life (especially if you clicked any of the links), well I can't exactly blame you. I am not every one's cup of tea. But as I approach 39, I have finally become MY cup of tea.
Oh, and if you are not bored with me yet, I review kid's movies over at I'd Let My Kid See That and my husband and I are trying to live a little greener over at Cold Comfort Living.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Day 193 or Recipe for Disaster
Looking for a a special recipe to reek havoc on your family life, stain your carpet, and create at least two new wrinkles. Well,then you have come to the right place.
1 cup of children off their schedule after a weekend at grandmas
2 cups of Daddy out for the evening
1 TBSP of Mommy with a head cold
Sprinkle in spaghetti for flavor
Stir together until Mommy is screaming, son is crying from another room, and toddler daughter is looking bemused. Carpet should begin to develop an orange-red color that seems to spread and darken in direct correlation to your efforts to remove it. Bake until Mommy's hair looks like she had married Frankenstein, son is now wailing, and daughter is still bemused.
Let cool for 15 minutes.
For best results, then resume nighttime activities. Put on PJs, read stories, and give cuddles. Continue until son turns your face to his and says, "I love you, Mommy. We forgot to say that."
1 cup of children off their schedule after a weekend at grandmas
2 cups of Daddy out for the evening
1 TBSP of Mommy with a head cold
Sprinkle in spaghetti for flavor
Stir together until Mommy is screaming, son is crying from another room, and toddler daughter is looking bemused. Carpet should begin to develop an orange-red color that seems to spread and darken in direct correlation to your efforts to remove it. Bake until Mommy's hair looks like she had married Frankenstein, son is now wailing, and daughter is still bemused.
Let cool for 15 minutes.
For best results, then resume nighttime activities. Put on PJs, read stories, and give cuddles. Continue until son turns your face to his and says, "I love you, Mommy. We forgot to say that."
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Day 183 or Lullaby for a Not-So-Two-Year-Old
Tonight, when I kiss you good night, my two year old baby will forever leave me to be replaced with a three year old girl. My baby, my LAST baby, is no longer a baby. So tonight, I dedicate this post to you, my beautiful little diva. Because if I am 38 and growing, it is because of your brother and you. Both of you have shaped the woman I am in your own way and I love you for it.
One day you won't remember that you were jealous of your brother's "peanut" and tried to use the restroom standing up. You will deny that he was your greatest hero and you would do anything to be like him (if dressed perfectly in pink in the process!). You won't remember that red was dark pink in your mind because all things pink are better.
But I will. I will remember that you loved to make blueberry muffins, wanted to eat pink icing and cool whip out of the cans, and that any food on your dad's or my plate tasted much. much better.
Every time you say a word with your miniature human dialect, I try to train my brain to rewind it and replay and yet it is gone almost instantly. Whenever you smile and it looks more like a grimace, I tell my mind to take a picture but it is never the same. I can't capture the moments that make you who you are at this particular time of your life with any accuracy. They are fleeting moments and that is what makes them so precious.
You test me. You push me. You make me crazy. You make me deliriously happy. I am never in neutral with you. I'm either laying down the gas trying to keep up with you or frantically stamping down on the brakes. You are teaching me patience. You are teaching me strength. In other words, you are teaching me the lessons of life.
I love your chocolate eyes that flutter as they try desperately to stay awake. You are so afraid that life will happen in those few quiet hours when you sleep. Trust me, my beautiful girl, life will never pass YOU by. You are a force of nature and I love you.
So goodnight, my baby girl. Good night. Close your eyes and dream of all that life holds for you. When you awake and come to me, hair askew and say "Good morning, mommy", I shall answer back, "Good morning, my big, big girl. Happy, happy birthday. You are such a beautiful three-year-old."
I dedicate this to you, my lovely, lovely girl...(Rod Stewart said it better than I).
May the good Lord be with you
Down every road that you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud, dignified and true
And do unto others as you'd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to Heaven
With a prince or a vagabond
And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young, yeah
And when you finally fly away
I'll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
I'm right behind you, win or lose
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
For, forever young, forever young
One day you won't remember that you were jealous of your brother's "peanut" and tried to use the restroom standing up. You will deny that he was your greatest hero and you would do anything to be like him (if dressed perfectly in pink in the process!). You won't remember that red was dark pink in your mind because all things pink are better.
But I will. I will remember that you loved to make blueberry muffins, wanted to eat pink icing and cool whip out of the cans, and that any food on your dad's or my plate tasted much. much better.
Every time you say a word with your miniature human dialect, I try to train my brain to rewind it and replay and yet it is gone almost instantly. Whenever you smile and it looks more like a grimace, I tell my mind to take a picture but it is never the same. I can't capture the moments that make you who you are at this particular time of your life with any accuracy. They are fleeting moments and that is what makes them so precious.
You test me. You push me. You make me crazy. You make me deliriously happy. I am never in neutral with you. I'm either laying down the gas trying to keep up with you or frantically stamping down on the brakes. You are teaching me patience. You are teaching me strength. In other words, you are teaching me the lessons of life.
I love your chocolate eyes that flutter as they try desperately to stay awake. You are so afraid that life will happen in those few quiet hours when you sleep. Trust me, my beautiful girl, life will never pass YOU by. You are a force of nature and I love you.
So goodnight, my baby girl. Good night. Close your eyes and dream of all that life holds for you. When you awake and come to me, hair askew and say "Good morning, mommy", I shall answer back, "Good morning, my big, big girl. Happy, happy birthday. You are such a beautiful three-year-old."
I dedicate this to you, my lovely, lovely girl...(Rod Stewart said it better than I).
May the good Lord be with you
Down every road that you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
Surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud, dignified and true
And do unto others as you'd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to Heaven
With a prince or a vagabond
And may you never love in vain
And in my heart you will remain
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young, yeah
And when you finally fly away
I'll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
I'm right behind you, win or lose
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young
For, forever young, forever young
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Day 148 or It's Easy to Forget...
So in further deference to my husband's exceeding right-ness about going to the doctor, I am feeling human again. Almost immediately after the antibiotics hit the bloodstream, I started to feel a difference. I guess my body was pretty busy fighting this bugger off. Thanks to all of you who have been sending the love.
I was actually feeling better enough that I agreed to go to a baby shower today for my cousin and his girlfriend. They are expecting a baby boy. And looking at the tiny, tiny clothes, it is easy to forget that the boy will wear all of those outfits in a two-day period because he will spit-up all over them. Seeing the brand new pack 'n' play with bassinet, it is easy to forget that the baby will not sleep in that bassinet for any period of time allowing more than the start of a load of laundry or a shower -- not both. And looking at her beautiful glowing face, fully made-up with her cute new Mommy haircut, it is easy to forget that she won't have time to look like that again for a LONG time. In other words, it is easy to forget that I am done having babies.
So, yes, I was feeling the "Babies" a little bit. I then asked another cousin (about 6 years younger than I) if she wanted another baby. She did but thought she wouldn't because she had a lot coming up in the next year or two and she didn't want to be 35 with her second baby. Now my daughter turns 3 next month and this blog is called 38 and Growing so you can do the math! Please do misunderstand. She is a sweet girl and this slight wasn't at all intentional but ow!
Since we have established that I am OLD (and I had two very difficult pregnancies), my husband and I have decided that biologically our family is full. And while we may choose to adopt in the future, for now our baby time is over. I collected my daughter's infant toys and have them ready for give away. I am buying clothes with the marking of "T" rather than "Months". And that's good.
Because when I start getting the "Babies", I look at my no-longer baby kids. While they no longer coo, they are able to say, "I love you". And while they no longer fit in the crook of one arm, they fit very comfortably on my lap. So life is about trade-offs. And being a Mommy is especially about trade-offs. For each baby pleasure I give up, I am rewarded with a hundred new and exciting pleasures of a fully thinking, fully expressive miniature human being. So, I guess it's okay that I'm OLD and no longer in the baby business because I am (and forever more will be) in the Mommy business.
Besides, whenever I find myself forgetting, I remember potty training. That does the trick every time.
I was actually feeling better enough that I agreed to go to a baby shower today for my cousin and his girlfriend. They are expecting a baby boy. And looking at the tiny, tiny clothes, it is easy to forget that the boy will wear all of those outfits in a two-day period because he will spit-up all over them. Seeing the brand new pack 'n' play with bassinet, it is easy to forget that the baby will not sleep in that bassinet for any period of time allowing more than the start of a load of laundry or a shower -- not both. And looking at her beautiful glowing face, fully made-up with her cute new Mommy haircut, it is easy to forget that she won't have time to look like that again for a LONG time. In other words, it is easy to forget that I am done having babies.
So, yes, I was feeling the "Babies" a little bit. I then asked another cousin (about 6 years younger than I) if she wanted another baby. She did but thought she wouldn't because she had a lot coming up in the next year or two and she didn't want to be 35 with her second baby. Now my daughter turns 3 next month and this blog is called 38 and Growing so you can do the math! Please do misunderstand. She is a sweet girl and this slight wasn't at all intentional but ow!
Since we have established that I am OLD (and I had two very difficult pregnancies), my husband and I have decided that biologically our family is full. And while we may choose to adopt in the future, for now our baby time is over. I collected my daughter's infant toys and have them ready for give away. I am buying clothes with the marking of "T" rather than "Months". And that's good.
Because when I start getting the "Babies", I look at my no-longer baby kids. While they no longer coo, they are able to say, "I love you". And while they no longer fit in the crook of one arm, they fit very comfortably on my lap. So life is about trade-offs. And being a Mommy is especially about trade-offs. For each baby pleasure I give up, I am rewarded with a hundred new and exciting pleasures of a fully thinking, fully expressive miniature human being. So, I guess it's okay that I'm OLD and no longer in the baby business because I am (and forever more will be) in the Mommy business.
Besides, whenever I find myself forgetting, I remember potty training. That does the trick every time.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Day 145 or Sweet Moments
This morning, I woke up from a heavy sleep still not feeling well (I'm about to give in to my husband's nagging and admit that after two weeks, maybe I need a doctor). And my daughter woke up as the winner of the Little Miss Cranky McCranky Pageant. So the recipe for a good morning was lacking a few key ingredients. Or so I thought.
After a thirty minute debate over the value of Cheerios in milk over a cookie for breakfast, I saw the muffin mix. And it's a decently healthy muffin mix. So I ask if she would like muffins. Yes. Yes. Yes. "Can I help, please, please, please, Mommy?" Despite my urges to get things done as quickly as possible, I said yes. Unlike myself, my daughter loves cooking and I don't want to squash that instinct.
So she pulled up her chair and we made muffins. She watched patiently while I measured the ingredients. In fact, that was the quietest moment all morning. And then she helped me stir while asking questions about the difference between blueberry muffins (her favorite) and banana nut (which we were making). And when I told her that it was time to get down so I may put them in the oven, she didn't argue. She just smiled and said "thank you, Mommy". And I smiled and put the muffins in the oven.
Fifteen minutes later, they were ready. And they were sweet. But not as sweet as the moments around the mixing bowl. It seems that we did have the recipe for a good morning after all.
After a thirty minute debate over the value of Cheerios in milk over a cookie for breakfast, I saw the muffin mix. And it's a decently healthy muffin mix. So I ask if she would like muffins. Yes. Yes. Yes. "Can I help, please, please, please, Mommy?" Despite my urges to get things done as quickly as possible, I said yes. Unlike myself, my daughter loves cooking and I don't want to squash that instinct.
So she pulled up her chair and we made muffins. She watched patiently while I measured the ingredients. In fact, that was the quietest moment all morning. And then she helped me stir while asking questions about the difference between blueberry muffins (her favorite) and banana nut (which we were making). And when I told her that it was time to get down so I may put them in the oven, she didn't argue. She just smiled and said "thank you, Mommy". And I smiled and put the muffins in the oven.
Fifteen minutes later, they were ready. And they were sweet. But not as sweet as the moments around the mixing bowl. It seems that we did have the recipe for a good morning after all.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Day Forty - Eight or Riding the Rollercoaster
It's funny (or not so funny) how quickly the car turns on life's roller coasters. Saturday I posted how yummy mommyhood was -- well tonight was not so yummy. Just one of those times when I am feeling under the weather and it's like they smell weakness. The two were either at each other's throats or plotting against me. Well, maybe not that Machiavellian, but if you saw that impish gleam in both of their eyes....
Just as I could actually see the roots of the few strands I hadn't already pulled out of my head turning grey (which should save me money on highlights -- either for the new natural whiteness or lack of volume!), it was bed time. After two library books taking WAY too long for a frustrated mom, fights over who can cuddle on Mommy's right side (I'm guessing my left side is somehow less lovable), and cold milk poured down my leg, we settled in for cuddles. And stomach blows. And "I love you" lists. And then the ride started clicking its way back up to dizzying, glorious heights.
I know that it will swoosh down towards the abyss again but that's part of the ride. And part of life. Twists and turns. Laughs and screams. Thrown necks and upset stomachs. Ups and downs.
Just as I could actually see the roots of the few strands I hadn't already pulled out of my head turning grey (which should save me money on highlights -- either for the new natural whiteness or lack of volume!), it was bed time. After two library books taking WAY too long for a frustrated mom, fights over who can cuddle on Mommy's right side (I'm guessing my left side is somehow less lovable), and cold milk poured down my leg, we settled in for cuddles. And stomach blows. And "I love you" lists. And then the ride started clicking its way back up to dizzying, glorious heights.
I know that it will swoosh down towards the abyss again but that's part of the ride. And part of life. Twists and turns. Laughs and screams. Thrown necks and upset stomachs. Ups and downs.
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