Spring Break

I will be taking a break from posting these next few weeks as I enjoy spring break time with family. I will continue my writing though as I have loved this time to actually hear my own thoughts. It has provided a much needed outlet for reflection and I hope that you have enjoyed it as well. I plan to return to posting refreshed from a much needed break. I am looking forward to some down time and getting help with the kids. I have just started the book Writing Motherhood by: Lisa Garrigues which my sister gave my a few years ago for my birthday but was recently discovered as I was going through my stash of books. I am excited to have some time to read it and I know the timing of running across it again isn't a coincidence. I love when things like that happen. What is the saying? "When the student is ready, the teacher appears?" Really cool. In the meantime my sister has started a crafy blog for those of you who are interested. She is very creative and you won't be disappointed! Check it out at http://www.risaspiecesofart.blogspot.com/ 

We'll talk soon!

Freedom

An amazing thing happened today. The minute I came home my husband asked how physical therapy went today and I immediately responded by yelling, “The baby will take a sippy cup!”

I have been nursing almost exclusively for eight months. Early on she took a bottle and had to in fact because she was jaundiced and apparently had a form that was connected to breastfeeding. I had to give her formula in a bottle for 24 hours in order to cause her bilirubin levels to drop. Fortunately they did and I was left knowing that she could take a bottle. Even at six weeks I was able to go out to dinner with some girlfriends while leaving her at home with visiting family knowing that they could feed her. Somehow things changed and with those changes I began to feel claustrophobic.

An undercurrent of stress always existed from knowing that all feedings were on me.  There are women who love nursing. I am not one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love the closeness that comes from nursing. I love the fact that I am doing the best for my baby. However, when the first birthday comes into view I am ready to give it up, move on with my life and get my body back all the while cherishing the memories.  

I had actually talked with a lactation consultant at one of my Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) meetings recently about my predicament. My fears were confirmed- it was too late to try to get her to take a bottle. I could, however, try a sippy cup. She told me to try the kind with a straw. I was skeptical. How could she possibly suck on a straw? She was the expert I reasoned, so I decided to follow her advice precisely. I got two different kinds. Neither of them worked. In fact, both ended up on my wooden floor more times than I cared to count. I finally gave up trying realizing that all they were good for was creating ding marks on the floor.

So it was by chance (although nothing ever really is) that I happened to mention to one of my mom friends the issue I was having with sippy cups not working. She simply and matter of factly told me to get the starter sippy cup with the two side handles. I almost dismissed her advice not wanting to buy yet another sippy cup. But, I thought to myself, she does have three kids plus watches several more in her home. I figured it might just be worth a try.

On a whim I decided to pack the newly purchased sippy cup with formula for back up during my physical therapy appointment. It was not an ideal situation any way you looked at it having to take my baby to the appointment. Fortunately, a neighbor friend had offered to take my oldest.

So while I was in the middle of the appointment after having completed exercises with a fussing baby on the floor at my feet and having to get my hips realigned with her actually sitting up on my chest, I handed her the sippy cup. At this point I was waiting for electrode therapy and a deep tissue massage. She was sitting in her car seat. She instantly got the hang of it and began feverishly lapping up the formula all the while making little happy baby noises. It was amazing. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not my continual pain. Not the annoyance at having to bring her there in the first place. Not the fact that I would be hitting rush hour traffic on my way home which happened to be an hour away. I had been set free and I instantly felt it. Spa day with my MOPS friends was not a dream now but a reality. All kinds of options were open to me now that had previously been closed tightly shut. She could have yelled her head off the rest of the appointment and it wouldn’t have mattered a bit.  So what is the moral to all of this one might wonder. Ultimately, mommy advice is the best advice of all and should never be disregarded as coming from the true expert.

Real Life

So life got in the way of my usual Friday post last week. It is kind of comical now to look back on what exactly happened or I guess I should say what didn’t exactly happen. Both kids barely napped and I have been very tired lately as well. I was hoping that they would nap so I could nap. None of that happened. Add in a baby fussy from teething and it even gets worse.

My oldest was very sassy most of the day and we spent a lot of time discussing what having an attitude meant and how exactly a child should talk to their mother which was frankly exhausting. During her so called “nap” she got into her sister’s drawers and pulled out every blanket. She also got on a stool and moved a Lenox Winnie the Pooh honey pot and a Winnie the Pooh snow globe that were on a high dresser in her sister’s room. Neither was broken thank goodness. Then I went into the bathroom that both girls share to find a large rocking chair lying on its side. I never could get an explanation for that one that was coherent. She kept saying something about how she wanted me to rock her. Why it couldn’t have stayed in her room for me to rock her is beyond me. The highlight though was going into her room and finding multiple lipstick stains in the carpet, but no lipstick around. She is very clever that one. I think she thought if she could hide the “smoking gun” sort of speak then the charges wouldn’t stick due to lack of evidence. Diabolical.

By the time my husband came home I was ready to go to bed- forever. I was ready to call this motherhood thing quits. I was ready to surrender while admitting that I suck at this job of mine and call my old principal and see if we could work out a deal. My old life working might have been busy and crazy but it wasn’t as messy that is for sure. It didn’t eat at your self- worth every moment of everyday.

So fast forward to today. I was able to get some cleaning done first thing this morning as well as get several loads of laundry going. My oldest and I worked at getting both girls’ bedrooms picked up. I cleaned up the lipsick stains from Friday while my oldest repeatedly told me that she was sorry and she sounded sincere. Breakfast dishes were put away promptly and the kitchen cleaned. The baby took a great morning nap for over an hour which is unusual. I had some educational play time with my daughter.  She had fun finding letters that spell words in this Melissa and Doug puzzle that we have and she was doing really well with it too. After the baby got up we all went outside for some play time and a leisurely walk. Then back inside for lunch. The kids played well together in the den with this electronic phonics set while I was able to get food prepared. So no one was crying or underfoot, highly unusual these days. I was even able to read this new children’s devotional that I recently purchased and my oldest seemed receptive to the message. After lunch my sister called and we were able to catch up briefly and talk about some scrapbooking ideas which was a nice treat in the middle of the day. Afterwards, both kids went to bed for their naps at close to the same time which rarely happens in our house. All great things. Until I sit down to start this post and realize that one of my writing notebooks is upstairs. I go upstairs to my room to retrieve it and who is on their stool quietly, stealthily rummaging my jewelry box? I guess I can’t catch a break. Now what?

My New Helper

These days I have a new helper in the kitchen. This helper is very small but really gets the job done well. I no longer have to live with cracker crumbs under and around my table until the next cleaning day arrives. Which to be honest these days is a guessing game even though I have read plenty of homemaking books telling me how to organize my schedule. So far the wonderful suggestions and ideas just aren’t manifesting themselves into my daily life- yet. I’ll try to remain positive. Despite my shortcomings though, my helper is always waiting. These days when I pull my little aqua helper out, the color of happy I might add, my oldest begins to clap. The helper has an audience as I tell the girls to gather around to witness the miracle. I have made a celebration of sorts out of its appearance. There is cheering and clapping. I’ll admit the person cheering the loudest is me.  

I suppose that if the old saying, “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” is true, then the opposite must true as well.  Well, this Mama is happy so everyone else better be too. My helper makes me smile and was worth every bit the $25 I so willingly laid down for it. I even did research on this little helper prior to bringing it home to live with us in the pantry in the kitchen. Yes, it is that small which makes me love it even more! It got glowing reviews. It is very popular and beloved by many besides me. I no longer dread the mess of meals. The crumbs are no longer starring at me for days on end as a reminder of my failures.

And I have to say thank you to the company that made my little helper, for understanding the dilemma of a homemaker. Thank you for putting the joy back into mealtimes. Most of all I thank you that I no longer have to walk on crumbs. I no longer have to fight with my big vacuum around tight corners and move chairs around. My back thanks you as well for a weight of only four pounds. You have put the fun back into cleaning as it feels like a toy, but actually works! I love you my eureka! Quick Up 2 in 1. My day just got easier because of you.

Rock Star

I’m a rock star. Really I am. Let me preface this by saying that I am a little addicted to shopping consignment sales.  I get an adrenaline rush from shopping them. It has become a form of entertainment for me these days. There are two big local ones that happen twice a year, once in the spring and once in the fall. So I end up going to a total of four large consignment sales throughout the year. Each one has almost a carnival aspect to them. The air is buzzing with anticipation and lines form early. I spend weeks preparing for the sales by pricing, tagging, and hanging my clothes.  Then I drop them off and all the while I am hoping that my time spent agonizing on the prices doesn’t go to waste. My husband jokes with me that I end up breaking even with what I make and what I sell but that’s beside the point.  Quite often the night before the big sale I have a hard time sleeping.  I go over the list in my head of items that I hope to score.  In my mind I plan out which section of the sale I will go to first in hopes of snagging the best deal. I have the layouts of both sales memorized such as where the toys are located, the big items, the clothes, the shoes, and so on and so forth. I just want to walk out of the sale feeling the thrill of victory in saving some cash.  It is a sad competition I have with myself. I love sharing my good fortune with whoever happens to be around, “You won’t believe the deal I got on this umbrella stroller! Only $7 dollars and it has a canopy, a mesh holder for odds and ends and even a holder for my water bottle!”  It is validation for a job well down when validation is hard to come by these days as a stay-at-home mom.

 I consigned some clothes at one of our recent spring community consignment sales and because of that I was able to shop the sale early. So I guess you could say that I was a VIP of the sale. Anyway, I went to check out clothes for my oldest first. She has become so picky lately so I knew I needed hunting time. I found not only a set of princess PJ’s but also three princess t-shirts. Can you tell that princess stuff is huge around my house? The best part is they were all only $2 a piece and they all looked new. I immediately began envisioning my oldest seeing them and giving me a hug and saying, “Thank you mommy!” so I had to get them. Actually this scenario isn’t a fantasy if you can believe it. She might be a very demanding child, but she is also a very grateful one. A friend of mine recently gave her a pair of white sandals with butterflies on them and she immediately wanted to call her and tell her thank you. Somehow the multitudes of being grateful discussions from the past took.

Later in the day I presented my finds to her and waited for the reaction. Sure enough she immediately clapped her hands together and began jumping up and down yelling, “Thank you mommy! They are my very favorite! They are so pretty! I so excited! Thank you for getting them for me!” She then proceeded to hug and kiss me as well as each and every princess item in her hands. So I really am a rock star, if only in my daughter’s eyes.

A Magical Memory

We spent a magical time outside the other day going on a nature walk. It was the type of activity that I had always fantasized that being a stay-at-home mom would be filled with- time to linger, time to laugh, time to breathe the fresh air and notice those important things like the leaves beginning to bud on the wild blackberry bushes, and the cricket hopping crazy beside the gravel driveway. It was a time to discuss the types of birds that we saw and enjoy the crunch of the gravel beneath the tires of the car stroller as a kind of music. It was a time to hunt for the elusive “blow flowers” that my oldest calls dandelions. It was a time to notice new tree branches that had fallen to line the road. We enjoyed the space to sing the Peter Pan song about following the leader without worrying who we would bother or who would hear.  My oldest insisted on being the line leader and marched along with her stick much like a high stepping drum major wielding her baton. Again I say it was magical. A moment that will live on in memories of what life was like during these years of staying home with young ones. Everyone was happy. There was no arguing whatsoever or fussing. Anyone seeing us would have seen a mother and her brood spending time together in perfect harmony. It was a Hallmark card moment.

That is until we arrived home.  My oldest wanted to eat the last carton of her baby sister’s yogurt instead of her own yogurt.  An academy award winning meltdown ensued while we were outside trying to enjoy the first picnic of the season. Fortunately, we do not live close to neighbors or anyone nearby would have thought my child was being tortured instead of simply being upset over yogurt. So it is that our beautiful time outside came to an abrupt ending. Such is life with young ones.  But I know that in the library of memories in my head, the walk outside will somehow over shadow the meltdown memory in the way that our mind creates amnesia of sorts often allowing us to remember the pleasant over the painful. Of that I can take comfort.

Issues

For the past two days we have had some spilling issues around here. I can’t even blame them on the girls as much as I would like for that to be the case. So I guess I should clarify and say that I have had some spilling issues. The strange thing is both instances occurred with breakfast type beverages. The first one involved orange juice splattering all over our new phone. It happens to be the one that my husband got me for my birthday just last week. I was reaching to get a plate which was stacked behind a bowl when the bowl fell and broke on the counter causing the full glass of juice, not a juice glass mind you since those just aren’t big enough for me, to fall over onto the phone. There was juice everywhere, on the counter as well as actually in the phone along with pieces of juicy pulp. It was the type of accident where someone would have been seriously yelled at except that someone happened to be me. For a moment all I could do was stand there in shock watching the orange flood flowing down the counter. I finally snapped out of it and could only think about how the phone was not going to work now and how would I explain something so stupid to the hubby. Sorry honey, I have a sick game that I play with myself and the dishes called “Will it fall this time?” only this time it really did and now the brand new phone doesn’t work and I know that it won’t be covered in the warranty. And then somehow I heard Ricky Ricardo yelling at Lucy telling her that she had some “splainin” to do. After those thoughts quickly left I began mopping up the juice and repeating the simple prayer, “Jesus have mercy” over and over again. I truly thought the phone would begin smoking any moment and it would be rendered useless forevermore. Fortunately, miraculously, that did not happen and it actually worked right away. One disaster averted.

The second one happened the very next day oddly enough. I had gone to the grocery store and was putting up groceries quickly trying to get lunch prepared for my three year old who was underfoot and cranky. I was initially very impressed with my ability to buzz around and get lunch prepared for not only her but also the baby and myself as well when I reached into the refrigerator and noticed a milk waterfall. I immediately squealed (way to go mom and keep the kids calm). Somehow, and I still don’t understand how this happened, the handle of the milk  jug split causing all the milk to gush from the gallon jug and down the front of the refrigerator. After hearing my reaction, my oldest immediately asked, “What’s going on Mom?” in her high little voice. I think I yelled something about having a milk catastrophe. She simply said in a soothing tone, “Mom, it's going to be okay. I’ll pray.”  Thanks baby. I apparently really need it lately.  

Confession Time

I have a confession to make. It is super embarrassing. It is one of the worst secrets that a mom with a baby can have actually. I’m feeling ready to come clean though even in the midst of food crumbs crunching beneath my notebook as I explore these words on my page right now. Okay are you ready for it? I am still in maternity clothes. You heard me right. After having a baby seven months ago I am still wearing maternity clothes because the size I would have to buy right now is just unbearable for me to face so I refuse to do it. I don’t mind buying size large yoga pants somehow or large t-shirts but facing a number staring at me from a label is just too impossible right now.

I have started walking even though my sacroiliac joint hurts all the time and it is difficult to bend down in the mornings due to stiffness. I feel like I am eighty most mornings actually. My physical therapist tells me that my last baby being breech is a main factor in all of my issues. Every time I go there they have to yank on me and pull on me to put my joints back into place like I am some sort of doll that has been badly mistreated. All rationalizations aside though I am still in maternity clothes. There is always room for one more though. They are actually my smaller size maternity clothes but still.

When I am out I feel the need to check the belly band lest my secret be revealed to those whose opinion matters most to me these days- other moms. According to all the celebrity moms you are supposed to be able to be red carpet ready in a matter of weeks after having a baby not months or even, heaven forbid, a year which is quickly advancing for me. In fact, my little one will be eight months this week, actually in two days which means that even in my confession I have let the truth become muddled.

So what am I going to do about it you ask? Good question. Well, I’m going to finish eating this piece of birthday cake I just cut and like Scarlett O’Hara the great mind who my southern mom so often quoted, I will simply say, “After all, tomorrow is another day" while thinking to myself those butter cream roses sure taste good, especially in a quiet house where everyone is napping.

Happy Birthday to Me

I'm 38. Today. I started the day wondering where did the time go. What do I really have to show for this life of mine? I have two beautiful daughters. I have a home that I always dreamed of back when we were first starting out. It stands on wooded property large enough for young ones to roam about and safely play. I have a husband who still looks good to me after 17 years of marriage (and yes I know...I was a baby when I got married, but that is a conversation for another day). I am now embarking on a new adventure of being stay-at-home mom after years of working in dead end jobs that I hated until finally finding my calling as a teacher just eight years ago. Middle age is advancing quickly. I hear it calling to me in the distance. Yet, strangely, I feel peaceful about it. So I have more wrinkles now and my body has battle scars from pregnancies and childbirth. Somehow those things don't matter today. They represent strength and wisdom.

Honestly, I never liked my twenties much. I was always second guessing myself and my life. I always felt that there was a better life out there and a better self out there that I never could find. It was always hiding from me somewhere and not finding it was just another example of failure. All my friends seemed to find jobs in their fields that sounded so wonderful and I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to be doing with my Psychology degree.

I finally found my calling when I pursued becoming a middle school English teacher in my thirties. I loved everything about it from my nutty kids just starting the temporary insanity of adolescence to the smell of my green spiral bound grade book. It brought back the joy I had felt as an eight year old playing school with my very first student who conveniently happened to be my sister. Incidentally, she happened to go on to become a doctor so I must have been pretty darn good if I do say so myself.

So here I am now. 40 right around the corner and sitting at my great grandmother's kitchen table with hand prints all over the protective glass top and a daisy print bib thrown haphazardly on the corner. Motherhood is my calling now. I would be lying if I said it was easy. It takes all that I am and then some making me rely on a God that I always knew but in an entirely different way now. Even as I write this my oldest comes running in saying, "Can I sit on your lap?" So I am paid in as many hugs and kisses as can be gathered up in a day. I have to admit it is a wonderful job perk. Some day sooner rather than later I know I will be writing here at this same table wondering where all the time with my girls went and I will be missing those ordinary extraordinary days.