I've spoke about my opinion on this subject before, that I think motherhood should be viewed as a career. Now I've actually gone and done it. I'm now co-owner of a daycare with my best friend and it certainly is Motherhood times 10. I now kind of understand what it must be like to have triplets as there are 3 babies to care for every day, plus my two, plus 6 year old twins after-school.
I love that I get to wear jeans and a sweatshirt to work, not to mention the fluffier and funnier looking the socks the better. I'm the anti-fashionista and I like it this way. Sure I spend most days with some degree of snot, spit up or other bodily fluid on me, and sure I got an accidental hand full of poop when one of the babies was carefully concealing a poop splosion, but I just can't help but laugh about it afterward. It's not anything different than I've encountered during my four years as a mom. Even when there are 3 babies crying I have a great friend there to help me laugh off any feelings of being overwhelmed.
I think it's safe to say that I've slipped into my new career quite seamlessly. I went from sitting in my cubicle like veal to feeling fresh air (weather permitting of course), playing games, reading stories, and hanging out with some pretty cool little people, not that I don't miss some of the co-workers I no longer see. As expected, the pay is not all I dreamed it would be, but we're working on it. All the stress that I had before has melted away and I never worry about getting in trouble for talking to my co-worker too much. I don't have to sit through any more awkward annual reviews where I try to play up my awesomeness to people who don't really care all that much about me anyway. Not to mention that every day is take your children to work day.
If anything it's made me a better mother. I've really watched and helped my children acquire new skills. Hannah has started reading and she works on writing her letters every day. She is using scissors well and has found a love for putting puzzles together. My son has found new children to give hugs to and play with besides his big sister. Sure we're on our second nasty cold in two months and both kids got their very first ear infections last week (in both ears), but hopefully their immune systems will be equipped to handle the onslaught of germs they'll encounter when they start school.
I used to think that if I just made more money and had more time off then I'd be happy in my career. But here I am making less money,working 10 plus hours a day and I couldn't be happier. I sleep like a baby at night and I never ever worry about what the new day will hold for me. I know any stress I feel will quickly be replaced with laughter. I can pull my kids in for a snuggle whenever I want. I can snuggle little babies and know with 99 percent certainty that I will never again have baby fever. We do need more kids enrolled because life is still life and there are always bills that need to be paid, but at least know I know that I won't have to pay with my sanity.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Check Engine Light
We've all see in it at some point in our life. Life is moving along rather uneventfully and then there it is, the God DAMN Check Engine Light. It's yellow glow reminding us that we better be mindful of our car maintenance and better get things looked at right away or else we may find ourselves stranded on the side of the road somewhere. I wonder if how you react to a check engine light reveals something about your character.
My mini-van's check engine light goes on and off from time to time. I got freaked out when I first saw it. My husband plugged it in and it's a bad sensor. Don't ask me which, cause I don't remember. All I really care to know about the vehicle I'm driving is whether or not it's going to get me home safely today. When my car failed to break down each time it rubbed it's little yellow glow in my face, I learned to dismiss it. But every time I dare to forget about it entirely it pops up and reminds me that I really should care.
Because anyone who knows me knows I love a good metaphor, I'm adopting the Check Engine light as my metaphor of the week. Some people like me are extremely vocal when they're having a tough time, but then there are those for whom a small, quiet glowing warning light is all that exists to indicate to the outside world that something is wrong. In my magical car metaphor, I'm that clunky noise you try to describe to your mechanic in a rather sad explanation of what's wrong, but I worry about the people and mothers especially who never show any outward signs of distress. I hope that someone is paying attention to these women and saying to themselves "I better figure out what's wrong before something worse happens."
We all get so used to asking each other, "How are you?" but hardly anybody really expects a real answer. We wait two seconds for the obligatory "fine" and carry on with our own preoccupations. I'll never forget that there was one person I asked years ago, who dared to give me a real answer. I was walking through the halls of my workplace, busily trying to get accomplished whatever my current task was and I happened to say hello to a co-worker and asked him how he was. As it turned out, his mother was dying and for the next half hour we talked about it. It was a very personal conversation for co-workers and yet I felt somehow that is was natural. Losing my Dad had given me a common vantage point to understand what he was going through, to see the very spot on life's path that those who haven't been there simply cannot.
I'm not sure why he trusted me enough to share his feelings with me, but I have the theory that his check engine light had simply turned on and he had been waiting for someone to notice. In turn he became someone I could talk to when my light blinked on.
I hope that I'm the type of person who cares enough to notice when someone really needs another person to simply care enough to know what's going on in their lives. But the truth is we all get preoccupied with our own lives and let's face it, it's incredibly easy to ignore that small glowing light in others that warns that things are not as great as they might appear. Though I sometimes worry that my over sharing nature might make some people uncomfortable, I know exactly what happens to me when I ignore my light for too long.
It's for this reason that I implore the stoic, the polished and perfected, and the perpetual caretakers to speak up and maybe give someone a chance to really listen beyond the "fine". Of everyone else I make this small and simple request- every once in a while stop and look around you and really take note of the silent, steady glow. There's usually a light on somewhere.
My mini-van's check engine light goes on and off from time to time. I got freaked out when I first saw it. My husband plugged it in and it's a bad sensor. Don't ask me which, cause I don't remember. All I really care to know about the vehicle I'm driving is whether or not it's going to get me home safely today. When my car failed to break down each time it rubbed it's little yellow glow in my face, I learned to dismiss it. But every time I dare to forget about it entirely it pops up and reminds me that I really should care.
Because anyone who knows me knows I love a good metaphor, I'm adopting the Check Engine light as my metaphor of the week. Some people like me are extremely vocal when they're having a tough time, but then there are those for whom a small, quiet glowing warning light is all that exists to indicate to the outside world that something is wrong. In my magical car metaphor, I'm that clunky noise you try to describe to your mechanic in a rather sad explanation of what's wrong, but I worry about the people and mothers especially who never show any outward signs of distress. I hope that someone is paying attention to these women and saying to themselves "I better figure out what's wrong before something worse happens."
We all get so used to asking each other, "How are you?" but hardly anybody really expects a real answer. We wait two seconds for the obligatory "fine" and carry on with our own preoccupations. I'll never forget that there was one person I asked years ago, who dared to give me a real answer. I was walking through the halls of my workplace, busily trying to get accomplished whatever my current task was and I happened to say hello to a co-worker and asked him how he was. As it turned out, his mother was dying and for the next half hour we talked about it. It was a very personal conversation for co-workers and yet I felt somehow that is was natural. Losing my Dad had given me a common vantage point to understand what he was going through, to see the very spot on life's path that those who haven't been there simply cannot.
I'm not sure why he trusted me enough to share his feelings with me, but I have the theory that his check engine light had simply turned on and he had been waiting for someone to notice. In turn he became someone I could talk to when my light blinked on.
I hope that I'm the type of person who cares enough to notice when someone really needs another person to simply care enough to know what's going on in their lives. But the truth is we all get preoccupied with our own lives and let's face it, it's incredibly easy to ignore that small glowing light in others that warns that things are not as great as they might appear. Though I sometimes worry that my over sharing nature might make some people uncomfortable, I know exactly what happens to me when I ignore my light for too long.
It's for this reason that I implore the stoic, the polished and perfected, and the perpetual caretakers to speak up and maybe give someone a chance to really listen beyond the "fine". Of everyone else I make this small and simple request- every once in a while stop and look around you and really take note of the silent, steady glow. There's usually a light on somewhere.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The UnREAL Reality of Normalcy
I find myself drawn to "reality" shows. I used to watch the multitude of prime time so called "reality" shows, which really just consist of a group of less than grown twenty somethings consuming large amounts of alcohol and sleeping with a lot of strangers. I must admit, most of us watch for the same reasons we slow down to survey the scene of a car wreck. You thank God it didn't happen to you or someone you know and yet for some unknown reason you feel the strong desire to know what happened to the victims and whether or not they will survive.
Will any of us ever survive these "reality" shows? Now that I'm (gulp) officially in my 30s the "booze it up, get it up" shows hold little to no interest for me anymore. There's only so much stupidity to go around and how many times can you really watch someone make a fool of themselves in exactly the same manner. What I watch now are the "unreality" shows that center around families. Call it another attempt to slow down and survey the damage, but I actually think of it as a way to view through an open window the family life of someone else to compare normalcy. We all want to feel normal, whatever the hell that means. We all want to feel like we're doing something right in our marriage, in raising our children.
So I occasionally tune in to some "unreality" shows particularly those involving large families - 19 Kids and Counting, Sister Wives and the like to figure out how the hell one survives more than a dozen kids and multiple spouses. What I get is this sugar coated attempt at normalcy, the very thing which denies my need to feel normal. I tune in because previews hint at conflicts, jealousies, potential problems, and what I get is an artificial dose of isn't my life so very normal considering I have 19 kids or 4 wives. I feel cheated by the whole experience. What viewers like me tune in for is the hope that someone will say, Good God this is fucking hard to deal with. Nobody wants to admit that marriage is hard, raising kids is hard, working, paying bills and just getting through life is hard. Everyone wants to feel normal and so we project our own normalcy onto others. We are all cheating each other.
Take me for instance, if anyone was going to show you the real deal it'd be me. I've long ago, tossed aside any attempt to fake a smile when I want to cry, pretend to be all lovey dovey with my husband when we get into a fight right before company comes over, placate a screaming child with niceties and bribes instead of pulling them out of the restaurant and waiting for the tantrum to be over - theirs or mine, whichever comes first. I wear my misery on my sleeve and my love on my shirt. I am stained through and through with the blood, sweat and tears of life and yet no one is knocking down my door offering to film my family.
I want answers just like everyone else. I want someone to show me how it's done, show me what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it all. I want to know how women voluntarily share their husband with other women and raise other people's children when I have a hard enough time getting my husband to help with chores and raising two children. How do they not feel cheated of time, attention, and help? As for the "look how well we all get along and resolve conflict" I say shut the camera off and wake me when reality calls.
How does a woman who's spent nearly every year of her adult life pregnant, nursing, and raising kids, say that she never yells? Give me a break people. To all my fellow viewers I say don't drink the cool-aide. They just want what we want, to show the world how fucking normal everything is, despite this amazingly different lifestyle they've chosen to live. I want to see the child who throws fits because she's tired of being raised by her siblings instead of her parents. I want to see the wife that wants to fly off the handle but chokes it down because he's got three other women to go to for understanding when he's upset.
I'll admit that I've thought to myself on many occasions, maybe there's something to this idea of having a wife of my own to cook and clean, and yes even take care of my husband when I'm too exhausted after taking care of two kids who haven't napped all day. That has more to do with my underlying theory that "wife" and "mother" really mean slave in some exotic language and nobody has bothered to clue me in yet. I would never, and could never share my husband with anyone, because flaws or not he's mine and if anyone is going to see through my bullshit and still show up than it's going to be him. I cannot imagine having so many children that scheduling in "one on one" time would be necessary. I feel enough guilt trying to juggle two kids and make sure they feel special and loved.
So if anyone out there in TV land is listening, wake me up when you do the show about a mom crying in a ball on the floor because she's overworked, unappreciated, and expected to carry on taking care of everyone else when she has nothing left at the end of the day for herself. I know I cannot possibly be the only mom that feels the cold stone irony of spanking a child because though you've told them a hundred times not to they still insist on standing on the table, counter or dresser and you don't want them to fall and get hurt. You know that you cannot prevent every injury, but you just do not have the energy to contend with a screaming toddler for five hours in the emergency room tonight.
Show me the wife like me who is sick to death of hearing that all the tantrums she throws in an attempt to get "help" (that is another blog post entirely) really are hurtful when I just want to say I'm attempting to make it clear that I am completely crushed by the weight of my responsibility right now and I'd really like you to just step off the dirt that's covering me, and dare I dream, grab that shovel over there and take a little of this off me right now so I can just BREATHE. If you've got any shows like that, I'll tune in faithfully, cause I know that I would love to know how she does it all correctly.
Will any of us ever survive these "reality" shows? Now that I'm (gulp) officially in my 30s the "booze it up, get it up" shows hold little to no interest for me anymore. There's only so much stupidity to go around and how many times can you really watch someone make a fool of themselves in exactly the same manner. What I watch now are the "unreality" shows that center around families. Call it another attempt to slow down and survey the damage, but I actually think of it as a way to view through an open window the family life of someone else to compare normalcy. We all want to feel normal, whatever the hell that means. We all want to feel like we're doing something right in our marriage, in raising our children.
So I occasionally tune in to some "unreality" shows particularly those involving large families - 19 Kids and Counting, Sister Wives and the like to figure out how the hell one survives more than a dozen kids and multiple spouses. What I get is this sugar coated attempt at normalcy, the very thing which denies my need to feel normal. I tune in because previews hint at conflicts, jealousies, potential problems, and what I get is an artificial dose of isn't my life so very normal considering I have 19 kids or 4 wives. I feel cheated by the whole experience. What viewers like me tune in for is the hope that someone will say, Good God this is fucking hard to deal with. Nobody wants to admit that marriage is hard, raising kids is hard, working, paying bills and just getting through life is hard. Everyone wants to feel normal and so we project our own normalcy onto others. We are all cheating each other.
Take me for instance, if anyone was going to show you the real deal it'd be me. I've long ago, tossed aside any attempt to fake a smile when I want to cry, pretend to be all lovey dovey with my husband when we get into a fight right before company comes over, placate a screaming child with niceties and bribes instead of pulling them out of the restaurant and waiting for the tantrum to be over - theirs or mine, whichever comes first. I wear my misery on my sleeve and my love on my shirt. I am stained through and through with the blood, sweat and tears of life and yet no one is knocking down my door offering to film my family.
I want answers just like everyone else. I want someone to show me how it's done, show me what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it all. I want to know how women voluntarily share their husband with other women and raise other people's children when I have a hard enough time getting my husband to help with chores and raising two children. How do they not feel cheated of time, attention, and help? As for the "look how well we all get along and resolve conflict" I say shut the camera off and wake me when reality calls.
How does a woman who's spent nearly every year of her adult life pregnant, nursing, and raising kids, say that she never yells? Give me a break people. To all my fellow viewers I say don't drink the cool-aide. They just want what we want, to show the world how fucking normal everything is, despite this amazingly different lifestyle they've chosen to live. I want to see the child who throws fits because she's tired of being raised by her siblings instead of her parents. I want to see the wife that wants to fly off the handle but chokes it down because he's got three other women to go to for understanding when he's upset.
I'll admit that I've thought to myself on many occasions, maybe there's something to this idea of having a wife of my own to cook and clean, and yes even take care of my husband when I'm too exhausted after taking care of two kids who haven't napped all day. That has more to do with my underlying theory that "wife" and "mother" really mean slave in some exotic language and nobody has bothered to clue me in yet. I would never, and could never share my husband with anyone, because flaws or not he's mine and if anyone is going to see through my bullshit and still show up than it's going to be him. I cannot imagine having so many children that scheduling in "one on one" time would be necessary. I feel enough guilt trying to juggle two kids and make sure they feel special and loved.
So if anyone out there in TV land is listening, wake me up when you do the show about a mom crying in a ball on the floor because she's overworked, unappreciated, and expected to carry on taking care of everyone else when she has nothing left at the end of the day for herself. I know I cannot possibly be the only mom that feels the cold stone irony of spanking a child because though you've told them a hundred times not to they still insist on standing on the table, counter or dresser and you don't want them to fall and get hurt. You know that you cannot prevent every injury, but you just do not have the energy to contend with a screaming toddler for five hours in the emergency room tonight.
Show me the wife like me who is sick to death of hearing that all the tantrums she throws in an attempt to get "help" (that is another blog post entirely) really are hurtful when I just want to say I'm attempting to make it clear that I am completely crushed by the weight of my responsibility right now and I'd really like you to just step off the dirt that's covering me, and dare I dream, grab that shovel over there and take a little of this off me right now so I can just BREATHE. If you've got any shows like that, I'll tune in faithfully, cause I know that I would love to know how she does it all correctly.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Difference Between Broke and Broken
Ok, so I pride myself on being frugal and money is always tight, but this week I've hit a new low. I had a negative balance in my checking account, zero in my savings, and bout two more weeks to live on what...air and love till pay day. I try to tell myself that my new low is for some people, their every day and I wonder how they do it. I know I can use my credit card till my next pay check even though the very thought of it makes my stomach queasy. Chalk it up to my unexpected car accident in March, which thankfully only took my car out of commission. Now I had the expense of getting another used car, and doing all the running around for the last week, taking my husband to work, dropping the kids off at my mom's, taking my step dad to work, running errands. Let's just say it cost me a pretty penny in gas.
It's sooo freaking easy to feel stressed, scared, and even hopeless at times. I have been crabby with my family because of the stress and I hate that because they are truly the only thing that get my through these tough times. As my oh so eloquent husband puts it - "I simply need more to focus on in my life than him so that I don't take all my stress out on him." It's a bit rough, but that's my husband. We are exactly ourselves with each other, on good days and bad, like it or not. There has to be a buffer between life's emergencies, tragedies, stresses, and losses and that buffer is family. Through their eyes we filter out the bad things and instead see the hope that lies beyond everything else. I guess we just need to remember to clean the filter every so often otherwise people's feelings get stuck in the grime of life.
So as I'm clipping coupons, thinking about side jobs, and reluctantly re-evaluating future plans, I think about what it is that keeps being broke from making one feel so.... well broken. It has got to be family. There is nothing else that can pull me out of my own head like taking care of my two little ones and of course my husband. He keeps his worries close to the vest, not on his sleeve like me. Gotta be especially wary of that. I just try to give what I can. Right now that doesn't include much of anything that can be bought. I have to hope that love and perseverance is enough to make it two more weeks, another year, ten years - one hurdle at a time, one step at a time, one filter change at a time.
It's sooo freaking easy to feel stressed, scared, and even hopeless at times. I have been crabby with my family because of the stress and I hate that because they are truly the only thing that get my through these tough times. As my oh so eloquent husband puts it - "I simply need more to focus on in my life than him so that I don't take all my stress out on him." It's a bit rough, but that's my husband. We are exactly ourselves with each other, on good days and bad, like it or not. There has to be a buffer between life's emergencies, tragedies, stresses, and losses and that buffer is family. Through their eyes we filter out the bad things and instead see the hope that lies beyond everything else. I guess we just need to remember to clean the filter every so often otherwise people's feelings get stuck in the grime of life.
So as I'm clipping coupons, thinking about side jobs, and reluctantly re-evaluating future plans, I think about what it is that keeps being broke from making one feel so.... well broken. It has got to be family. There is nothing else that can pull me out of my own head like taking care of my two little ones and of course my husband. He keeps his worries close to the vest, not on his sleeve like me. Gotta be especially wary of that. I just try to give what I can. Right now that doesn't include much of anything that can be bought. I have to hope that love and perseverance is enough to make it two more weeks, another year, ten years - one hurdle at a time, one step at a time, one filter change at a time.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Is The Grass Really Greener on The Other Side?
Ok, since I translate my life into motherhood here's another lesson I'd like to teach my kids and since my love of words and metaphors is overwhelming me right now I just have to go with it: If you think the grass is always greener on the other side, it's because you've stopped tending your own lawn. You will always think that someone has something bigger and better than what you have and the bottom line is if you want to really be happy in life than stop envying what others have and focus on what you have.
Here's what I've learned in my 30 years so far. When you start paying so close attention to what others have you start measuring and translating your life and your happiness in terms of what it is not. Does anyone ever find happiness by trying to gage what one does not have that others do?
I can honestly say that my life has not been a bed of roses. I've been through some dark and trying times, but I'd like to think that I have learned how to see through these periods in life to the brighter side that lies beyond. At some point, I hope my children do as I did and ask themselves this key question - What is it that I truly need to make me happy? I hope they think long and hard about this question. I hope to be the buzzer that sounds in their head if what comes to mind is a possession or a dollar amount. If this is what jumps to their minds, then unfortunately the grass will always be greener on the other side. There will always be someone whose possessions and income are more enviable.
Three years ago, I was an individual. The only person I had to dream for was me. Now I'm a mom. If you don't have kids, I'm not sure you understand what it means to have your whole life change in ways you never expected. It made me really re-evaluate what I wanted out of life. I don't know if I really wanted to move up the corporate ladder, rub shoulders with those in positions I coveted and make allies among the other "young professionals" whose goals were the same. Every time I get approached by these "young professional" organizations now to join and participate in whatever "career development" program they're offering I kind of smile inside. It's not because I don't agree with what they are doing. It's because they don't see it in me. Sometimes I think everything about me is so clear. I'm the living cliche of someone who wears their heart on their sleeve so I sometimes forget that not everything I am is so transparent.
I'm a mom I tell them. Then I get this blank stare. I say this by way of explanation, as in I don't have time for extra curricular activities. I have a job and I have a family so that leaves um virtually no time for anything else. At this juncture in my life, I don't know if I will ever want to be on the career development, upwardly mobile path. I know that's what people think I'm supposed to want. But that's where my handy dandy philosophy comes in, I CHOOSE what I want and three years ago I CHOSE to become a mom. After I lost my first baby, I realized that it's a choice people sometimes take for granted. As if it is always there; an easy option that will be waiting for them whenever they decide the time is right. I'm not saying its a bad thing to be career oriented, to be ambitious, but I would just like to make sure that my children stop, take a second and ask themselves "What is it that I need to make me happy?"
I have asked myself this question on several occasions. The answer keeps coming back the same. I need my family to make me happy. When my daughter was born, I couldn't bare the thought of leaving her in daycare and then I got a call that would actually start me on a new path. It was my grandmother who inadvertently and painfully reminded me of the many more options I have in my life than she did. So I sat down and asked the question and thus hatched my job share plan. I work part-time now and yes my bank account is pretty sad on any given day and yes I haven't had my hair cut in at least six months, but I have seen my kids first steps, heard their first words, and even on days where the temper tantrums of my three-year-old infuriate me and my son is being so needy that I can't get a square inch of air to call my own, I don't feel anything but happiness when I think of my life. I have what I need and that makes me happy. Would I like to go on a fancy vacation this year, buy a bigger house, have more money in my bank account? ABSOLUTELY. But I know that I am NOT willing to have time with my family be the sacrifice I make for it. That is just me. That was the answer to my question. I hope they know that they, along with my husband, are what I need to be happy.
I hope that one day they know that the grass is only greener on the other side if you've stopped tending your own lawn. So Hannah and Jayden if you read this one day, do your mom a favor. After you've thought long and hard about what you need to make you happy, get up and go get it. You will be amazed, trust me, at how very possible your dreams are.
Here's what I've learned in my 30 years so far. When you start paying so close attention to what others have you start measuring and translating your life and your happiness in terms of what it is not. Does anyone ever find happiness by trying to gage what one does not have that others do?
I can honestly say that my life has not been a bed of roses. I've been through some dark and trying times, but I'd like to think that I have learned how to see through these periods in life to the brighter side that lies beyond. At some point, I hope my children do as I did and ask themselves this key question - What is it that I truly need to make me happy? I hope they think long and hard about this question. I hope to be the buzzer that sounds in their head if what comes to mind is a possession or a dollar amount. If this is what jumps to their minds, then unfortunately the grass will always be greener on the other side. There will always be someone whose possessions and income are more enviable.
Three years ago, I was an individual. The only person I had to dream for was me. Now I'm a mom. If you don't have kids, I'm not sure you understand what it means to have your whole life change in ways you never expected. It made me really re-evaluate what I wanted out of life. I don't know if I really wanted to move up the corporate ladder, rub shoulders with those in positions I coveted and make allies among the other "young professionals" whose goals were the same. Every time I get approached by these "young professional" organizations now to join and participate in whatever "career development" program they're offering I kind of smile inside. It's not because I don't agree with what they are doing. It's because they don't see it in me. Sometimes I think everything about me is so clear. I'm the living cliche of someone who wears their heart on their sleeve so I sometimes forget that not everything I am is so transparent.
I'm a mom I tell them. Then I get this blank stare. I say this by way of explanation, as in I don't have time for extra curricular activities. I have a job and I have a family so that leaves um virtually no time for anything else. At this juncture in my life, I don't know if I will ever want to be on the career development, upwardly mobile path. I know that's what people think I'm supposed to want. But that's where my handy dandy philosophy comes in, I CHOOSE what I want and three years ago I CHOSE to become a mom. After I lost my first baby, I realized that it's a choice people sometimes take for granted. As if it is always there; an easy option that will be waiting for them whenever they decide the time is right. I'm not saying its a bad thing to be career oriented, to be ambitious, but I would just like to make sure that my children stop, take a second and ask themselves "What is it that I need to make me happy?"
I have asked myself this question on several occasions. The answer keeps coming back the same. I need my family to make me happy. When my daughter was born, I couldn't bare the thought of leaving her in daycare and then I got a call that would actually start me on a new path. It was my grandmother who inadvertently and painfully reminded me of the many more options I have in my life than she did. So I sat down and asked the question and thus hatched my job share plan. I work part-time now and yes my bank account is pretty sad on any given day and yes I haven't had my hair cut in at least six months, but I have seen my kids first steps, heard their first words, and even on days where the temper tantrums of my three-year-old infuriate me and my son is being so needy that I can't get a square inch of air to call my own, I don't feel anything but happiness when I think of my life. I have what I need and that makes me happy. Would I like to go on a fancy vacation this year, buy a bigger house, have more money in my bank account? ABSOLUTELY. But I know that I am NOT willing to have time with my family be the sacrifice I make for it. That is just me. That was the answer to my question. I hope they know that they, along with my husband, are what I need to be happy.
I hope that one day they know that the grass is only greener on the other side if you've stopped tending your own lawn. So Hannah and Jayden if you read this one day, do your mom a favor. After you've thought long and hard about what you need to make you happy, get up and go get it. You will be amazed, trust me, at how very possible your dreams are.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Baby Poop And Other Fun Stuff
WARNING:THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE EASILY NAUSEATED.
Very few things really start the day off right like a big healthy dose of baby poop. It's my nice metaphor for life - Baby Poop. It's messy, it smells, it demands our attention and action, and we clean it half-heartily, begrugingly, and for the most part you wish someone else would just take care of it for you. Few people in life get excited about baby poop and those few people are yes, you guessed it MOTHERS.
In the first few months and years of your child's life, you spend an odd number of hours thinking about oh, here it comes again, BABY POOP. There is the wondering about what is normal or not normal - size, frequency, color, consistancy, etc. Then when my eight month old wasn't pooping and was so constipated he cried there was the fun of giving a supository to a crying baby - or as some of us know it - a butt bomb. As if shoving something up your infant's butt isn't weird enough - you watch for a few seconds/minutes for the explosion.
Oh the explosions I've seen in my life time. My favorite was when my daughter was sick and it was so bad I made my husband get this scissors because sometimes, no clothing is worth the price of washing putricity out of it. Now that my daughter is toilet training I wonder if the poop obsession will ever end. Will she ever tell me when she has to go or will my mom continue to find her pulling off a retched pull-up in secret. So where am I going with this? I'm not sure.
It just occured to me that it's a good metaphor for life. Life is BABY POOP, messy and necessary and suck-tastic. It's also a great metaphor for Motherhood because mom's touch, smell, and clean some of the nastiest things EVER. I have held out my cupped palms to catch my daughter's vomit, had poop on my hands more times then I can count, even got it in my hair once too. We are the caregivers and we take the shit. If we didn't love our kids we probably wouldn't do half of the things we do.
So why doesn't Mike Rowe follow us around when filming Dirty Jobs? It's man-tastic programing at its finest and I bet every man in every dirty job featured on that show wouldn't hesitate for one second when he comes home from a long day cleaning porta-potties, cleaning animal cages, or hauling trash, to hand off his son or daughter to his wife at the first wiff of BABY POOP. If you've got a husband, boyfriend, or even know a man who willingly changes stinky, baby poop, and especially if he can do it without making the vomit sound- buy that man a drink because lord knows it takes more intestinal fortitude for him to do what we do every day.
So if you've got a funny Baby Poop moment, feel free to share it cause god knows as mothers, sometimes we need a good laugh to get through life and oh yes the BABY POOP.
Very few things really start the day off right like a big healthy dose of baby poop. It's my nice metaphor for life - Baby Poop. It's messy, it smells, it demands our attention and action, and we clean it half-heartily, begrugingly, and for the most part you wish someone else would just take care of it for you. Few people in life get excited about baby poop and those few people are yes, you guessed it MOTHERS.
In the first few months and years of your child's life, you spend an odd number of hours thinking about oh, here it comes again, BABY POOP. There is the wondering about what is normal or not normal - size, frequency, color, consistancy, etc. Then when my eight month old wasn't pooping and was so constipated he cried there was the fun of giving a supository to a crying baby - or as some of us know it - a butt bomb. As if shoving something up your infant's butt isn't weird enough - you watch for a few seconds/minutes for the explosion.
Oh the explosions I've seen in my life time. My favorite was when my daughter was sick and it was so bad I made my husband get this scissors because sometimes, no clothing is worth the price of washing putricity out of it. Now that my daughter is toilet training I wonder if the poop obsession will ever end. Will she ever tell me when she has to go or will my mom continue to find her pulling off a retched pull-up in secret. So where am I going with this? I'm not sure.
It just occured to me that it's a good metaphor for life. Life is BABY POOP, messy and necessary and suck-tastic. It's also a great metaphor for Motherhood because mom's touch, smell, and clean some of the nastiest things EVER. I have held out my cupped palms to catch my daughter's vomit, had poop on my hands more times then I can count, even got it in my hair once too. We are the caregivers and we take the shit. If we didn't love our kids we probably wouldn't do half of the things we do.
So why doesn't Mike Rowe follow us around when filming Dirty Jobs? It's man-tastic programing at its finest and I bet every man in every dirty job featured on that show wouldn't hesitate for one second when he comes home from a long day cleaning porta-potties, cleaning animal cages, or hauling trash, to hand off his son or daughter to his wife at the first wiff of BABY POOP. If you've got a husband, boyfriend, or even know a man who willingly changes stinky, baby poop, and especially if he can do it without making the vomit sound- buy that man a drink because lord knows it takes more intestinal fortitude for him to do what we do every day.
So if you've got a funny Baby Poop moment, feel free to share it cause god knows as mothers, sometimes we need a good laugh to get through life and oh yes the BABY POOP.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
There is no "ME" in MOMMY
If you ask yourself at least once a day, "Am I doing the right thing?," "Am I failing my children?," "Am I a horrible mother?" LISTEN UP - you're perfectly normal. What I find most intriguing about motherhood is that rarely does a woman truly ask herself, "What about me?"
The first thing to go when you become a parent is simply "you." Short of changing your identity by joining wittness protection, you are in short a completely different "you" once you have children. If you're like me, you view your pre-child life kinda like a good old familiar movie you remember watching over and over. You know the lines by heart, but ultimately you are a spectator viewing your own past. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's just different.
I wish I could say that having children makes you completely selfless. That you are devoted 100% of the time to your child(ren)'s utter happiness, but this is real life and not the hallmark channel. There are days, especially when your feeling sick, tired, rundown, unappreciated, overwhelmed where you want to scream, "WHAT ABOUT ME???" You wonder, sometimes outloud, where's my help? Where's my vacation?" Hell most days I'd settle for getting in the car by myself and going anywhere, hearing silence and not being so utterly tired that I can appreciate it for more than the few minutes it takes to drag my ass to bed.
As a very introspective person, motherhood has been like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. I always prided myself in knowing exactly who I am and what I'm capable of. But I have found myself, even hearing myself as I'm doing it screaming at a toddler, begging a baby not to cry, cursing a husband for working late even though I know it's for the benefit of our family but because I need help and god damn it there is no freaking end to my day. Parenthood doesn't have a pause button, a rewind, there is no do over so this is where the worry comes in "Am I failing my children?" "Am I balancing work and family or will the scale always be tipped?" God the worry doesn't stop. I simpy have to hope that we all escape parenthood and childhood without any permanent scaring. But I have decided at least for myself that there is no Right Way to be a parent. There is simply what you do and what you don't do and as long as you can appreciate that and the fact that you can't always control the outcome and for the most part you're ok with the direction you take, then you ARE a good parent and you ARE a good person.
I may wonder sometimes "Will there ever come a day where I have more than a 20 minute shower to call my ALONE TIME?," but while walking around my empty house after returning from urgent care a few weeks ago, I was a little freaked out by how ALONE I really was. I simply didn't remember what to do without children to take care of. So I cleaned, not my favorite past time by any stretch of the imagination, but I was used to feeling useful, needed, depended upon and completely loved nearly every second of the day and the temporary silence was utterly deafening. So I have traded in "ME" for "MOMMY." It's not to say there is no more me, there is just a new ME, a forever changed version of ME. Sometimes I may look back, but never with regret.
The first thing to go when you become a parent is simply "you." Short of changing your identity by joining wittness protection, you are in short a completely different "you" once you have children. If you're like me, you view your pre-child life kinda like a good old familiar movie you remember watching over and over. You know the lines by heart, but ultimately you are a spectator viewing your own past. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's just different.
I wish I could say that having children makes you completely selfless. That you are devoted 100% of the time to your child(ren)'s utter happiness, but this is real life and not the hallmark channel. There are days, especially when your feeling sick, tired, rundown, unappreciated, overwhelmed where you want to scream, "WHAT ABOUT ME???" You wonder, sometimes outloud, where's my help? Where's my vacation?" Hell most days I'd settle for getting in the car by myself and going anywhere, hearing silence and not being so utterly tired that I can appreciate it for more than the few minutes it takes to drag my ass to bed.
As a very introspective person, motherhood has been like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. I always prided myself in knowing exactly who I am and what I'm capable of. But I have found myself, even hearing myself as I'm doing it screaming at a toddler, begging a baby not to cry, cursing a husband for working late even though I know it's for the benefit of our family but because I need help and god damn it there is no freaking end to my day. Parenthood doesn't have a pause button, a rewind, there is no do over so this is where the worry comes in "Am I failing my children?" "Am I balancing work and family or will the scale always be tipped?" God the worry doesn't stop. I simpy have to hope that we all escape parenthood and childhood without any permanent scaring. But I have decided at least for myself that there is no Right Way to be a parent. There is simply what you do and what you don't do and as long as you can appreciate that and the fact that you can't always control the outcome and for the most part you're ok with the direction you take, then you ARE a good parent and you ARE a good person.
I may wonder sometimes "Will there ever come a day where I have more than a 20 minute shower to call my ALONE TIME?," but while walking around my empty house after returning from urgent care a few weeks ago, I was a little freaked out by how ALONE I really was. I simply didn't remember what to do without children to take care of. So I cleaned, not my favorite past time by any stretch of the imagination, but I was used to feeling useful, needed, depended upon and completely loved nearly every second of the day and the temporary silence was utterly deafening. So I have traded in "ME" for "MOMMY." It's not to say there is no more me, there is just a new ME, a forever changed version of ME. Sometimes I may look back, but never with regret.
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