Its a 'husband is out of the house, both kids are glued to the TV, dog is barking nonstop, I am hiding under the covers in my bedroom balling....ignoring them all' sort of day.
Yikes.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Myth of The Mansion.
I live in a mansion.
Ok, not really. But to me, it's a pretty huge house. Our house is 2,500 square feet (last I heard), that is 2,500 square feet of livable space.
Here is the rundown:
1 master bedroom
4 decent size bedrooms
5 bathrooms
2 good size living rooms
1 large dining room (playroom for us)
1 stair case
1 huge kitchen
1 good size mudroom/laundry room
a few hallways
and a large middle area we call the foyer (we use it as a sitting area)
In addition to this, we have a medium front yard, a small back yard, a large back porch, and two gardens.
Let me tell you folks, it is ALOT ALOT ALOT to take care of.
When both my husband and I worked, it was not biggie. I would clean it once a week, straighten it twice a week, and it looked almost perfect most days. Why? IT WAS SITTING THERE EMPTY 40 PLUS HOURS A WEEK!!!!!! And the other hours of the week, when people were in it, they were always adults. Adults clean up after themselves.
When I had just one kid, I could still keep a pretty good routine of housekeeping. My standards had to drop a ton, but I could definitely keep up. My one kid would be easily distracted by toys, movies, naps, independent playtimes, daddy, or watching me clean, and I could still get alot done.
When number two arrived, things changed a little bit. It helped that this little bundle took several long naps a day, so at first it wasn't a huge adjustment.
But now, number 2 is just as much of a kiddo as number 1, and they are both making sure I have my work cut out for me.
Then there is the dog, oh the dog. Dog hair. Need I say more.
So my perfectly clean house that used to sit totally empty for 40 hours a week, now has a zoo living in it everyday. From the big girl, to the little girl, to the doggie, and don't forget the pregnant mommy, we are ALL making messes nonstop.
Add pregnancy in, and its all over. My two hour window, where chores used to get done with two active kiddos around, has now disappeared. My husband many times works the night shift (like this entire work week he works 12-9 pm), so this means my goal for the day is reserving energy in order to make it through the crazy hours, from 5-8 pm, alone. I cannot possible express my distaste for spending this 3 hours alone most days. I would much rather my man work 5 am to 5 pm, if he could be home from 5-8. It is a sick sick joke, those hours. The kids go into crazy mode, and I go into tired mode, at the same time. I am stuck cooking dinner alone, while trying to manage them, which means they are off destroying any cleaning I did that day. Then right after we eat, my tired very pregnant body is ready for bed, and they are ready to bounce off of the walls. Torture. So now, my two hour window a day, when the kids are in their quiet times, is used for resting. This usually means reading a parenting book, and just praying I don't fall asleep. Naps for me bring back the morning sickness. Another cruel joke.
Life has made the ultimate switch folks. We used to use the weekdays for getting chores done, and the weekends for relaxing and having family fun. But now, the weekdays are for survival, and the weekends have become totally full of chores and projects, with the occasional family time here or there.
It sucks. Weekends that are supposed to be used for relaxing are becoming busier and busier.
Take today, for instance. Its our friday, and we have a TON of house work today. There is dog hair absolutely everywhere. The toilets are getting rings, and the floors are a sticky mess. In my stupidity I thought it would be fine to use part of the kids quiet time to get a head start on the weekend chores, therefore saving my man from part of the work, but that was a huge mistake. I made it one hour, and then piled on the floor in a heap of tears. Defeat. Failure. Overwhelming exhaustion.
I've been googling to try to find ways of how to make this balance of chores and motherhood an easier one for me, and guess what answer I always run into? Hire a nanny/housekeeper. LOL!!!!!!!!! They obviously don't live in reality folks. Believe me, if that was at all possible, I'd have hired help. But that doesn't exist for me, at all.
Its days like today, where I cry so much in defeat that I question the wisdom in putting on eye makeup that morning, that I just want to SIMPLIFY!!!!!!!!!!!
Today, I want a small house. 1,500 square feet sounds good. 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms. 1 living room, a small area for a playroom, an eat in kitchen....... Something easy to keep clean. I also want a husband who works monday through friday 8-5. I want a simple, boring, life.
If you are reading this, and you have found the ultimate solution for balancing your roles as mother and housekeeper during the day, please, do tell. I need your wisdom. How do I ever keep up with the endless crumbs, puddles of milk, dog hair bunnies everywhere, a minefield of toys, and don't even mention the laundry.
I read once that the best way to protect a marriage is to enjoy it. Have fun with your spouse. Is that the best way to protect a mother/child relationship too? To enjoy it?
Really, how, in the midst of the endless work, am I supposed to take time to do that.
I can't even breathe.
Ok, not really. But to me, it's a pretty huge house. Our house is 2,500 square feet (last I heard), that is 2,500 square feet of livable space.
Here is the rundown:
1 master bedroom
4 decent size bedrooms
5 bathrooms
2 good size living rooms
1 large dining room (playroom for us)
1 stair case
1 huge kitchen
1 good size mudroom/laundry room
a few hallways
and a large middle area we call the foyer (we use it as a sitting area)
In addition to this, we have a medium front yard, a small back yard, a large back porch, and two gardens.
Let me tell you folks, it is ALOT ALOT ALOT to take care of.
When both my husband and I worked, it was not biggie. I would clean it once a week, straighten it twice a week, and it looked almost perfect most days. Why? IT WAS SITTING THERE EMPTY 40 PLUS HOURS A WEEK!!!!!! And the other hours of the week, when people were in it, they were always adults. Adults clean up after themselves.
When I had just one kid, I could still keep a pretty good routine of housekeeping. My standards had to drop a ton, but I could definitely keep up. My one kid would be easily distracted by toys, movies, naps, independent playtimes, daddy, or watching me clean, and I could still get alot done.
When number two arrived, things changed a little bit. It helped that this little bundle took several long naps a day, so at first it wasn't a huge adjustment.
But now, number 2 is just as much of a kiddo as number 1, and they are both making sure I have my work cut out for me.
Then there is the dog, oh the dog. Dog hair. Need I say more.
So my perfectly clean house that used to sit totally empty for 40 hours a week, now has a zoo living in it everyday. From the big girl, to the little girl, to the doggie, and don't forget the pregnant mommy, we are ALL making messes nonstop.
Add pregnancy in, and its all over. My two hour window, where chores used to get done with two active kiddos around, has now disappeared. My husband many times works the night shift (like this entire work week he works 12-9 pm), so this means my goal for the day is reserving energy in order to make it through the crazy hours, from 5-8 pm, alone. I cannot possible express my distaste for spending this 3 hours alone most days. I would much rather my man work 5 am to 5 pm, if he could be home from 5-8. It is a sick sick joke, those hours. The kids go into crazy mode, and I go into tired mode, at the same time. I am stuck cooking dinner alone, while trying to manage them, which means they are off destroying any cleaning I did that day. Then right after we eat, my tired very pregnant body is ready for bed, and they are ready to bounce off of the walls. Torture. So now, my two hour window a day, when the kids are in their quiet times, is used for resting. This usually means reading a parenting book, and just praying I don't fall asleep. Naps for me bring back the morning sickness. Another cruel joke.
Life has made the ultimate switch folks. We used to use the weekdays for getting chores done, and the weekends for relaxing and having family fun. But now, the weekdays are for survival, and the weekends have become totally full of chores and projects, with the occasional family time here or there.
It sucks. Weekends that are supposed to be used for relaxing are becoming busier and busier.
Take today, for instance. Its our friday, and we have a TON of house work today. There is dog hair absolutely everywhere. The toilets are getting rings, and the floors are a sticky mess. In my stupidity I thought it would be fine to use part of the kids quiet time to get a head start on the weekend chores, therefore saving my man from part of the work, but that was a huge mistake. I made it one hour, and then piled on the floor in a heap of tears. Defeat. Failure. Overwhelming exhaustion.
I've been googling to try to find ways of how to make this balance of chores and motherhood an easier one for me, and guess what answer I always run into? Hire a nanny/housekeeper. LOL!!!!!!!!! They obviously don't live in reality folks. Believe me, if that was at all possible, I'd have hired help. But that doesn't exist for me, at all.
Its days like today, where I cry so much in defeat that I question the wisdom in putting on eye makeup that morning, that I just want to SIMPLIFY!!!!!!!!!!!
Today, I want a small house. 1,500 square feet sounds good. 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms. 1 living room, a small area for a playroom, an eat in kitchen....... Something easy to keep clean. I also want a husband who works monday through friday 8-5. I want a simple, boring, life.
If you are reading this, and you have found the ultimate solution for balancing your roles as mother and housekeeper during the day, please, do tell. I need your wisdom. How do I ever keep up with the endless crumbs, puddles of milk, dog hair bunnies everywhere, a minefield of toys, and don't even mention the laundry.
I read once that the best way to protect a marriage is to enjoy it. Have fun with your spouse. Is that the best way to protect a mother/child relationship too? To enjoy it?
Really, how, in the midst of the endless work, am I supposed to take time to do that.
I can't even breathe.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
The End.
I have hit total burnout folks. The end of the race where your legs are killing you, your lungs are done, you are just plain exhausted. But still you look at the finish line, and the closer you seem to be moving to it, the farther away it moves into the distance.
This season has been freaking difficult. Bad news. Its not over. And the even worse news. I have to do it again.
I am sick and tired of having a season of life every year where everything great about life turns into utter hell for months upon end.
Am I crazy. Why do I keep doing this? Why every year does the excuse 'its just for a season' seem to plaster things over. This is not healthy. And its not just me. There are lots of others just like me.
I am tired. Life is a wreck. Every relationship I have is disconnected.
I am SO over this. SO completely over this.
Lord you have to do something. This is not ok, not at all.
I have to be able to accumulate rest. I have to be able to be healthy. This is being stretched WAY past the breaking point.
I. Am. Done.
Lord, please provide. I can't do this anymore.
This season has been freaking difficult. Bad news. Its not over. And the even worse news. I have to do it again.
I am sick and tired of having a season of life every year where everything great about life turns into utter hell for months upon end.
Am I crazy. Why do I keep doing this? Why every year does the excuse 'its just for a season' seem to plaster things over. This is not healthy. And its not just me. There are lots of others just like me.
I am tired. Life is a wreck. Every relationship I have is disconnected.
I am SO over this. SO completely over this.
Lord you have to do something. This is not ok, not at all.
I have to be able to accumulate rest. I have to be able to be healthy. This is being stretched WAY past the breaking point.
I. Am. Done.
Lord, please provide. I can't do this anymore.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Naming the Rocker Within.
Picking a name: for some reason this has always been easy for us, when we are choosing a girls name that is. The week Kadence was born, we had already named out 'third daughter', who of course now we know doesn't exist. So when we learned we had to think of a boy name, for real, it was a little more challenging. Honestly, I had a name stuck in my heart even before the ultrasound, but its taken that man of mine a little more time to jump on board. Usually I am alot more 'submissive' in what we name our children, but this time, I was pretty set. Auryn was named after an island in Europe my man visited and loved. Kadence was named after a musical term, cause the hubby's our music man, so I thought it was only fair that I get some pretty prominent say in this one.
The first name I loved for a boy was Lennox, but the man wasn't having that one at all. I wanted to name him that because its pretty sweet, and original, and because it provides a few sweet nicknames: 'X' and 'X-man'. But, I could see that was going to be an impossible sell, so I moved on.
We have these friends, who have 5 sons, all with incredibly rad names: Xavier, Emmit, Mavrick, Linus, and Ford. So of course, we contacted them for help. At the time they were trying to think of their own name for their fifth son, so couldn't be of much help. Finally, it dawned on me: if we LOVED their names so much, why not use some form of one of them, or just steal one all together. Try as we may to be original, I had a name stuck in my heart already.
Xavier.
I loved the name, but even more I loved the meaning behind it: 'New House'
(or sometimes 'owner of a new house', either way it works great for us)
This is SO fitting to our family if you know anything of our story the last 7 years. Our first 5 years were pretty difficult due to some not great choices being made, but 2 years ago that man of mine made the most important decision of our lives: he turned his heart to God in EVERYTHING, and decided to live totally vulnerable before Him, me, and others. Still to this day, I don't think anything could make me more proud of him. It honestly changed the trajectory of our entire family, from death, to LIFE. As God promises, he makes everything knew, and he truly has made this family brand new: HE has given us a NEW HOUSE!!!!!
So we hope your honored, instead of insulted, that we stole your freaking sweet name anonymous family. This name is just so meaningful to us and the journey the Lord has had us on, we just couldn't not use it.
The middle name, FREAKING RAD if you ask me.
Ozmond.
This is our made up version of the name Osmond, which means: 'Divine Protector', which to us means 'God's Protection'.
If you know anything about our more recent story, in November of last year we lost a son to miscarriage. His name is Noah. A few months later we were blessed again to find out we were pregnant with another precious bundle. A week after getting the positive pregnancy test, I started bleeding, yet again. We were DEVASTATED!!!!! I could not seriously believe that I was having another miscarriage. A few days after the bleeding started, when I thought the miscarriage was over, I went to the doctor to get my blood HCG levels tested to make sure the entire pregnancy had passed. We were shocked to find out a few days later that the levels had gone up. I had an ultrasound done on the same day though that showed an empty uterus, no baby. So so sad. But since my levels were still up, the had me come in once a week to see if the HCG was going up or down. It took a month of weekly tests, and finally concluded with another ultrasound, but there was no getting around it this time: there was a LIVE growing healthy 8 week old baby in there!!!!! It had been SUCH a traumatic month having to wonder each and every day if I had lost another baby, but we were SO blessed to find out we HAD NOT!!!!!! We felt the Lord's protection like never before. He had saved our child for us, we were SO thankful.
So as you can see, the name Ozmond fits our story well too. God protected our little man, God protected me, God protected our family from what could have been another tragedy. God protected us from death and destruction both in not loosing a second baby to miscarriage, and in having grace with my husband when he finally turned his heart totally towards him.
God's protection has been written on the walls of this new house.
Last name:
Morrow
No surprises there I hope..... I am almost positive Morrow means morning, or new day?
So there you have it folks:
The first name I loved for a boy was Lennox, but the man wasn't having that one at all. I wanted to name him that because its pretty sweet, and original, and because it provides a few sweet nicknames: 'X' and 'X-man'. But, I could see that was going to be an impossible sell, so I moved on.
We have these friends, who have 5 sons, all with incredibly rad names: Xavier, Emmit, Mavrick, Linus, and Ford. So of course, we contacted them for help. At the time they were trying to think of their own name for their fifth son, so couldn't be of much help. Finally, it dawned on me: if we LOVED their names so much, why not use some form of one of them, or just steal one all together. Try as we may to be original, I had a name stuck in my heart already.
Xavier.
I loved the name, but even more I loved the meaning behind it: 'New House'
(or sometimes 'owner of a new house', either way it works great for us)
This is SO fitting to our family if you know anything of our story the last 7 years. Our first 5 years were pretty difficult due to some not great choices being made, but 2 years ago that man of mine made the most important decision of our lives: he turned his heart to God in EVERYTHING, and decided to live totally vulnerable before Him, me, and others. Still to this day, I don't think anything could make me more proud of him. It honestly changed the trajectory of our entire family, from death, to LIFE. As God promises, he makes everything knew, and he truly has made this family brand new: HE has given us a NEW HOUSE!!!!!
So we hope your honored, instead of insulted, that we stole your freaking sweet name anonymous family. This name is just so meaningful to us and the journey the Lord has had us on, we just couldn't not use it.
The middle name, FREAKING RAD if you ask me.
Ozmond.
This is our made up version of the name Osmond, which means: 'Divine Protector', which to us means 'God's Protection'.
If you know anything about our more recent story, in November of last year we lost a son to miscarriage. His name is Noah. A few months later we were blessed again to find out we were pregnant with another precious bundle. A week after getting the positive pregnancy test, I started bleeding, yet again. We were DEVASTATED!!!!! I could not seriously believe that I was having another miscarriage. A few days after the bleeding started, when I thought the miscarriage was over, I went to the doctor to get my blood HCG levels tested to make sure the entire pregnancy had passed. We were shocked to find out a few days later that the levels had gone up. I had an ultrasound done on the same day though that showed an empty uterus, no baby. So so sad. But since my levels were still up, the had me come in once a week to see if the HCG was going up or down. It took a month of weekly tests, and finally concluded with another ultrasound, but there was no getting around it this time: there was a LIVE growing healthy 8 week old baby in there!!!!! It had been SUCH a traumatic month having to wonder each and every day if I had lost another baby, but we were SO blessed to find out we HAD NOT!!!!!! We felt the Lord's protection like never before. He had saved our child for us, we were SO thankful.
So as you can see, the name Ozmond fits our story well too. God protected our little man, God protected me, God protected our family from what could have been another tragedy. God protected us from death and destruction both in not loosing a second baby to miscarriage, and in having grace with my husband when he finally turned his heart totally towards him.
God's protection has been written on the walls of this new house.
Last name:
Morrow
No surprises there I hope..... I am almost positive Morrow means morning, or new day?
So there you have it folks:
Coming to a Hospital Near Us
Xavier Ozmond Morrow
Expected Release Date: November 8, 2012
My favorite, most favorite part of the whole thing, is what we are going to call him:
OZZY
Yes, yes we are serious. Until he can tell us otherwise, we will (most of the time) be calling our son Ozzy.
I am told that this is now where the whole world starts criticizing our name decision, but let me save you the energy folks: we are dead set. Unless they are 'that's rad' comments, we don't want to hear it. We named our first daughter Auryn 4 years ago, and are still IN LOVE with this name. We have confidence we will love this name in 4 years too!
It honestly took my man a little getting used to the idea of naming our son this, he kept saying the name seemed too bold, to which I would reply: 'If Auryn is ok, anyone can be ok.' We love unique names. We know that they are different, but this is how the Lord has led our hearts.
Yes we know that there is a musician most call Ozzy, but no: we are not naming our son after him. That Ozzy's name is actually: John Micheal Osborne. He is called Ozzy, as a nickname from his last name, which is Osborne. We are calling our son Ozzy, as a nickname from his middle name, which is Ozmond. Totally different! LOL! Not really......
We are in love, we hope you will be too, with the baby in my tummy, just growing more and more each day. He's moving everywhere, showing off for his big sisters, dancing wildly for his daddy's voice, using my hip bones as drums, and my rib cage as a bass guitar. I love my Xavier Ozmond Morrow.
I love my Ozzy.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Come Back Please.
Today is going to one of those days. One of those days of motherhood that will ensure I am hanging my head in defeat by noon. By dinner time I will we doing my job through tears running down my face. I hate days like today. Totally trapped. Totally hopeless. Totally helpless. Totally alone.
She woke up in one of her moods today. Right now, in fact, I am taking a 10 minute sanity break to type this because I need to process but my man is at work. We've been in a battle already for almost an hour. Little baby girl is luckily still asleep, just praying she stays that way until the battle is over.
I know I'm supposed to look at this strong willed thing as a blessing, but right now, not possible.
I hate that our days are nothing but discipline. Literally, we sit in our house, all day, battling it out. She tests me, I hold my ground. These days it feels like its literally every waking moment.
I just want to enjoy each other. I want to make her smile more than I make her cry. I want to spend the day doing fun things, instead of having talks upon talks and tons of discipline. We are both miserable.
I am trapped in a relationship I never wanted or thought I'd have.
We are a classic 'personalities crash' scenario. I rub her totally wrong, and she rubs me wrong too.
And today is a day where I doubt I'll survive it.
Today is a day I just desperately hope Jesus will come back and just take us all.
She woke up in one of her moods today. Right now, in fact, I am taking a 10 minute sanity break to type this because I need to process but my man is at work. We've been in a battle already for almost an hour. Little baby girl is luckily still asleep, just praying she stays that way until the battle is over.
I know I'm supposed to look at this strong willed thing as a blessing, but right now, not possible.
I hate that our days are nothing but discipline. Literally, we sit in our house, all day, battling it out. She tests me, I hold my ground. These days it feels like its literally every waking moment.
I just want to enjoy each other. I want to make her smile more than I make her cry. I want to spend the day doing fun things, instead of having talks upon talks and tons of discipline. We are both miserable.
I am trapped in a relationship I never wanted or thought I'd have.
We are a classic 'personalities crash' scenario. I rub her totally wrong, and she rubs me wrong too.
And today is a day where I doubt I'll survive it.
Today is a day I just desperately hope Jesus will come back and just take us all.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Pills and Polish.
When I was a little girl I had not a care in the world. My mom said I was the sweetest most joyous little person she has ever met. I would sing instead of talk, and skip instead of walk. Life felt light to me, and I felt good.
Then puberty hit. I'm pretty sure that was the end of the real me. With all of the raging hormones, my brain chemistry was forever changed, and things never quite settled down right. Since then I have had seasons where the chemical imbalance in my brian has effected me more than others, but its something daily I need to evaluate and keep in check. The truth is: I have a broken brain. Just like someone gets a damaged kidney or liver or any other organ, I have damaged brain.
There have been three stages in my life where I have needed medication in order to help my brain function like a healthy person's brain does. The first go around with my beloved happy pills was when I was in high school. The second was when I was in college (a few months into my dating relationship with my hubby actually). And the third stage began when my second baby was born. This has been the longest stage by far that I have gotten to take these little capsules of magic, lasting just over 2 years. But this week marks the end of this blissful stage of mental health.
Starting last week I had to start weaning off of my meds, and soon I will have to be med free for the remainder of this pregnancy. All I can say is I AM NOT EXCITED!!!! It has been such a magical thing for me to feel more like a normal human for the last 2 years. I am SO looking forward to November already when I can go back on my happy pills (which on bad days I call my crazy pills) and the relief that will bring from the inner workings of my damaged brain. I don't know why puberty had such an extreme effect on me, but it did. Part of the fallen broken world we live in I guess.
All three stages of med use have come for slightly different reasons, but one reason trumps them all: I am the real me when I am on them. This last stage of med use started from looking back at my horrible postpartum days with my eldest, and realizing that I really do owe it to my kids to do the best that I can for them in every way, including taking care of myself.
So far I feel pretty normal. But I'm still getting about 1/2 of the lowest dose, so we shall see next week.
On a slightly different unrelated note (lol), today once again I realized how controlling I am as a mommy. When my big kid was younger, we painted her nails a few times, but honestly she wasn't that into it. But today when she saw daddy painting my toenails (yep, cause I can't reach them already) she just had to get in on the action. She wasn't sure if she wanted her nails painted, but she knew she wanted to join in on the painting. Her first nail to paint was the big toe nail on my right foot, and she actually did a really good job for an almost 4 year old. This didn't push too many of my 'controlling mommy' buttons, but I was of course anxious as the whether the polish would end up on my toe, or on the couch right by us. She then expressed interest in painting daddy's toenails, which of course he agreed to since he is such a wonderful wonderful man. So I held the bottle of polish as she painted my giddy husbands toenails the color coral. Now this pushed a few more of my 'controlling' buttons when in all of her concentration she kept getting her long hair into the polish on his toe nails.
I made it through to her finally wanting me to paint her fingernails and toenails. Now this for sure pushed a few more of my buttons as I knew for sure she would quickly rub her nails on something catastrophic. Surprisingly she sat totally still as I painted all 20 of her tiny little nails. She was so happy, and felt so pretty, it was a great moment for my man and I equally. Towards the end of nail drying, as daddy was blowing on her toenails she started wiggling around and I started loosing it. I was boiling inside, just desperately wanting her to sit still, but like any 4 year old who has been asked to sit still for more than 15 minutes, she started getting really restless. With daddy's blowing, we made it through.
I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing, pretty proud of myself that although I was feeling anxious inside I had had enough self control to keep my mouth shut and ensure an enjoyable experience for my daughter. That, is of course, when it began. SHE STARTED PICKING THE POLISH OFF OF HER FINGER NAILS!!!!!!!!!! It became a moment by moment struggle for me to keep my mouth shut. Thoughts were running through my head like: Little flecks of polish are getting everywhere! I worked so hard to get them painted just right, she is ruining it! They are going to look so ugly now! She wanted to show the neighbor girl and now she can't! She's going to want me to do it again and thats alot of work! Is this normal?!?!? Why is she doing this?!?!?........on and on. I was able to keep my kind voice as I asked her to please stop peeling and picking, but she was already way too into it to be reasoned with. But inside, I had lost it already.
It all reminded me so much of the early days with her, and watching her play with her first stickers. I HATED how she would put stickers on the paper, and then peel them off. I thought it was such a waste of time and money, and we had no finished product to show for our art time together. I went through all of the same questions, and eventually reasoned with myself that it must be a developmental thing.
So back to birth order: when my second did the same thing with her stickers, I thought nothing of it. It did not invoke feelings of stress at all.
Sometimes I think it is a cruel cruel thing that we loose our memories of early childhood. I have no memories of playing with stickers the first 1000 times. I have no memories of getting my nails painted for the first time. I bet you anything that I peeled and picked like my kids, but all I remember is doing these things just the 'right way'. Doesn't it come down to that?!?! I mean really. The reason these things BUG me SO much is because they go against my opinion of the right way and wrong way of doing things. Its like watching your kids play with play dough the first time, and they MIX THE COLORS TOGETHER!!!!! Or painting with them and they use the same brush (without rinsing) in more than one color of paint!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!
I would have to say that I am proud of the amount of self control I have with my mouth in these situations, like today letting my kiddo put the sticker of a bib on the dino's tummy instead of his neck. WHO REALLY FREAKING CARES!?!?!?!?!?!?! The sad thing is: I do. Me. Their mommy. It bugs me. I want them to do things just like me. But they can't. They are little.
The thing I am not so proud of at all, quite disgusted by actually, is the lack of control in my heart. I can go from 0 to 60 in less than a second. The ugly controlling-ness I have in my heart is just plain gross.
So once again, to my eldest: I apologize. I am so sorry you have to be the first child. It is really really horrible. I know. But as I've promised you already, the counseling is on me.
Then puberty hit. I'm pretty sure that was the end of the real me. With all of the raging hormones, my brain chemistry was forever changed, and things never quite settled down right. Since then I have had seasons where the chemical imbalance in my brian has effected me more than others, but its something daily I need to evaluate and keep in check. The truth is: I have a broken brain. Just like someone gets a damaged kidney or liver or any other organ, I have damaged brain.
There have been three stages in my life where I have needed medication in order to help my brain function like a healthy person's brain does. The first go around with my beloved happy pills was when I was in high school. The second was when I was in college (a few months into my dating relationship with my hubby actually). And the third stage began when my second baby was born. This has been the longest stage by far that I have gotten to take these little capsules of magic, lasting just over 2 years. But this week marks the end of this blissful stage of mental health.
Starting last week I had to start weaning off of my meds, and soon I will have to be med free for the remainder of this pregnancy. All I can say is I AM NOT EXCITED!!!! It has been such a magical thing for me to feel more like a normal human for the last 2 years. I am SO looking forward to November already when I can go back on my happy pills (which on bad days I call my crazy pills) and the relief that will bring from the inner workings of my damaged brain. I don't know why puberty had such an extreme effect on me, but it did. Part of the fallen broken world we live in I guess.
All three stages of med use have come for slightly different reasons, but one reason trumps them all: I am the real me when I am on them. This last stage of med use started from looking back at my horrible postpartum days with my eldest, and realizing that I really do owe it to my kids to do the best that I can for them in every way, including taking care of myself.
So far I feel pretty normal. But I'm still getting about 1/2 of the lowest dose, so we shall see next week.
On a slightly different unrelated note (lol), today once again I realized how controlling I am as a mommy. When my big kid was younger, we painted her nails a few times, but honestly she wasn't that into it. But today when she saw daddy painting my toenails (yep, cause I can't reach them already) she just had to get in on the action. She wasn't sure if she wanted her nails painted, but she knew she wanted to join in on the painting. Her first nail to paint was the big toe nail on my right foot, and she actually did a really good job for an almost 4 year old. This didn't push too many of my 'controlling mommy' buttons, but I was of course anxious as the whether the polish would end up on my toe, or on the couch right by us. She then expressed interest in painting daddy's toenails, which of course he agreed to since he is such a wonderful wonderful man. So I held the bottle of polish as she painted my giddy husbands toenails the color coral. Now this pushed a few more of my 'controlling' buttons when in all of her concentration she kept getting her long hair into the polish on his toe nails.
I made it through to her finally wanting me to paint her fingernails and toenails. Now this for sure pushed a few more of my buttons as I knew for sure she would quickly rub her nails on something catastrophic. Surprisingly she sat totally still as I painted all 20 of her tiny little nails. She was so happy, and felt so pretty, it was a great moment for my man and I equally. Towards the end of nail drying, as daddy was blowing on her toenails she started wiggling around and I started loosing it. I was boiling inside, just desperately wanting her to sit still, but like any 4 year old who has been asked to sit still for more than 15 minutes, she started getting really restless. With daddy's blowing, we made it through.
I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing, pretty proud of myself that although I was feeling anxious inside I had had enough self control to keep my mouth shut and ensure an enjoyable experience for my daughter. That, is of course, when it began. SHE STARTED PICKING THE POLISH OFF OF HER FINGER NAILS!!!!!!!!!! It became a moment by moment struggle for me to keep my mouth shut. Thoughts were running through my head like: Little flecks of polish are getting everywhere! I worked so hard to get them painted just right, she is ruining it! They are going to look so ugly now! She wanted to show the neighbor girl and now she can't! She's going to want me to do it again and thats alot of work! Is this normal?!?!? Why is she doing this?!?!?........on and on. I was able to keep my kind voice as I asked her to please stop peeling and picking, but she was already way too into it to be reasoned with. But inside, I had lost it already.
It all reminded me so much of the early days with her, and watching her play with her first stickers. I HATED how she would put stickers on the paper, and then peel them off. I thought it was such a waste of time and money, and we had no finished product to show for our art time together. I went through all of the same questions, and eventually reasoned with myself that it must be a developmental thing.
So back to birth order: when my second did the same thing with her stickers, I thought nothing of it. It did not invoke feelings of stress at all.
Sometimes I think it is a cruel cruel thing that we loose our memories of early childhood. I have no memories of playing with stickers the first 1000 times. I have no memories of getting my nails painted for the first time. I bet you anything that I peeled and picked like my kids, but all I remember is doing these things just the 'right way'. Doesn't it come down to that?!?! I mean really. The reason these things BUG me SO much is because they go against my opinion of the right way and wrong way of doing things. Its like watching your kids play with play dough the first time, and they MIX THE COLORS TOGETHER!!!!! Or painting with them and they use the same brush (without rinsing) in more than one color of paint!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!
I would have to say that I am proud of the amount of self control I have with my mouth in these situations, like today letting my kiddo put the sticker of a bib on the dino's tummy instead of his neck. WHO REALLY FREAKING CARES!?!?!?!?!?!?! The sad thing is: I do. Me. Their mommy. It bugs me. I want them to do things just like me. But they can't. They are little.
The thing I am not so proud of at all, quite disgusted by actually, is the lack of control in my heart. I can go from 0 to 60 in less than a second. The ugly controlling-ness I have in my heart is just plain gross.
So once again, to my eldest: I apologize. I am so sorry you have to be the first child. It is really really horrible. I know. But as I've promised you already, the counseling is on me.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Dashed Hopes.
I think one of the things that constantly shocks me the most about motherhood is the fact that my naivety is shoved into my face almost continually. This week, I had another lesson in learning just how true that is.
I tried to take the girls to my moms house for 3 days without the husband. I was picturing getting to rest, and relax; you know, I thought I'd end the 3 days feeling refreshed. Why did I think that? Who knows really. I've thought this before, and been proven wrong again and again. I seriously don't know why I thought this time would be better. Hope I guess. Oh hope, you trick me every time.
I was working 24 hours straight, for three straight days. What would be relaxing about that? Nothing. Nothing at all. (To be fair, I did get a 2 hour break where I went to Starbucks and Motherhood Maternity, and that was a DREAM COME TRUE!!!!!) The girls were tired because they weren't sleeping in their own beds, crabby because they weren't eating their normal food, and defiant from being spoiled silly. My days consisted of constant discipline, and my nights were interrupted every few hours by all four of my 'people': the girls, the dog, and the baby in my belly. Living nightmare.
I don't know why I didn't realize being this pregnant with 2 little ones around would be so difficult, but it is. So difficult. I look back on the days of being pregnant with my first as a daily VACATION. I mean, I was pregnant, and not working, how hard is that?!?!?! I look back on the days of being pregnant with my second as a trivial challenge. Really, I thought that was difficult at times?!?!? Come one, my oldest napped twice a day. Having 1 kid is SO freaking easy compared to this.
The funny thing is, I'll be saying that same thing in a few months about the current me. I'm sure I'll look back at these days of having two little ones as such blissful simple days, and life with three little ones as an uphill battle.
I thank the Lord for little 'breathes of fresh air' along the way, cause most days lately I feel like I am suffocating.
I'm sure this will come back to bite me in the butt very very soon, but: The thought of no longer being pregnant, having my body back (after about 6 months of daily running, of course), and having 3 little kiddos sounds really amazing compared to this right now.
Being pregnant is really really hard when you are in your third trimester, and have 2 little kids already around. I cannot wait to birth this child. I am SO FREAKING EXCITED to meet him!!!!!!! And almost equally excited to be able to feel like me again: to be able to stand in the kitchen long enough to finish a job instead of having to sit down cause my feet hurt so bad, to be able to pick up the house 2 times a day again instead of letting it pile up for the husband cause I can't bend over through my back pain to pick much up these days, to be able to have energy to play with my kids again, to be able to pick them up and hug them when they ask for it.......
So I am once again ending this vacation, needing a vacation.
Good news, one is in my future. In exactly 25 days, we have a Stay-cation on the calendar once again. The kids are coming to my moms, and I will have 5 days without them to catch up on rest, to nest, to organize, and to hang with my hubby. The best part is, HE HAS THE WHOLE TIME OFF!!!!!! Thanks to my mom, off days and vacation days we will have 5 days at home with no kids together. Can. Not. Wait.
I guess I thought 'they' were lying when they said 'a mother's job is never done'. It's no lie people, a mother's job is truly never ever done.
So thankful I have a hubby who gives me little breaks here and there to catch up on rest when I need it. Even though he has no idea how tiring it is to be pregnant at this point, he has a ton of empathy for me, and I appreciate it. I will not be leaving his side again for a very very very long time.
I kinda need him alot.
I tried to take the girls to my moms house for 3 days without the husband. I was picturing getting to rest, and relax; you know, I thought I'd end the 3 days feeling refreshed. Why did I think that? Who knows really. I've thought this before, and been proven wrong again and again. I seriously don't know why I thought this time would be better. Hope I guess. Oh hope, you trick me every time.
I was working 24 hours straight, for three straight days. What would be relaxing about that? Nothing. Nothing at all. (To be fair, I did get a 2 hour break where I went to Starbucks and Motherhood Maternity, and that was a DREAM COME TRUE!!!!!) The girls were tired because they weren't sleeping in their own beds, crabby because they weren't eating their normal food, and defiant from being spoiled silly. My days consisted of constant discipline, and my nights were interrupted every few hours by all four of my 'people': the girls, the dog, and the baby in my belly. Living nightmare.
I don't know why I didn't realize being this pregnant with 2 little ones around would be so difficult, but it is. So difficult. I look back on the days of being pregnant with my first as a daily VACATION. I mean, I was pregnant, and not working, how hard is that?!?!?! I look back on the days of being pregnant with my second as a trivial challenge. Really, I thought that was difficult at times?!?!? Come one, my oldest napped twice a day. Having 1 kid is SO freaking easy compared to this.
The funny thing is, I'll be saying that same thing in a few months about the current me. I'm sure I'll look back at these days of having two little ones as such blissful simple days, and life with three little ones as an uphill battle.
I thank the Lord for little 'breathes of fresh air' along the way, cause most days lately I feel like I am suffocating.
I'm sure this will come back to bite me in the butt very very soon, but: The thought of no longer being pregnant, having my body back (after about 6 months of daily running, of course), and having 3 little kiddos sounds really amazing compared to this right now.
Being pregnant is really really hard when you are in your third trimester, and have 2 little kids already around. I cannot wait to birth this child. I am SO FREAKING EXCITED to meet him!!!!!!! And almost equally excited to be able to feel like me again: to be able to stand in the kitchen long enough to finish a job instead of having to sit down cause my feet hurt so bad, to be able to pick up the house 2 times a day again instead of letting it pile up for the husband cause I can't bend over through my back pain to pick much up these days, to be able to have energy to play with my kids again, to be able to pick them up and hug them when they ask for it.......
So I am once again ending this vacation, needing a vacation.
Good news, one is in my future. In exactly 25 days, we have a Stay-cation on the calendar once again. The kids are coming to my moms, and I will have 5 days without them to catch up on rest, to nest, to organize, and to hang with my hubby. The best part is, HE HAS THE WHOLE TIME OFF!!!!!! Thanks to my mom, off days and vacation days we will have 5 days at home with no kids together. Can. Not. Wait.
I guess I thought 'they' were lying when they said 'a mother's job is never done'. It's no lie people, a mother's job is truly never ever done.
So thankful I have a hubby who gives me little breaks here and there to catch up on rest when I need it. Even though he has no idea how tiring it is to be pregnant at this point, he has a ton of empathy for me, and I appreciate it. I will not be leaving his side again for a very very very long time.
I kinda need him alot.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
My Demise.
These are the days of motherhood I hate the most. When everywhere around me is work to be done, staring me in the face. Literally, in every room there is something screaming 'WORK WORK' at me. And all I want to do, is take a much needed nap. These are the days that make it perfectly perfectly clear, a mother's job is never done. I still keep tricking myself into thoughts that start with 'When I have everything done I will.....' and end with a various assortment of things like: 'take a bath' or 'put my makeup on' or 'upload photos' or 'fix my toe nail polish that has now been chipping off for over a month' or 'workout' or 'get homeschool preschool stuff together' or 'work on the babies room'....on and on and on and on, forever and ever.
These are the days I walk around feeling defeated THE ENTIRE DAY. Shoulders down, head down, tears streaming down my face, and no forcefulness of fake emotion makes much of a difference at all. Why? I am exhausted. Literally I want to fall over into my bed and sleep for 3 days straight. But, that would put me even more behind in work, and make me even more stressed out, so nevermind. Sleeps not that important, right?!?!?!
Part of it is my fault, the reason I feel overwhelmed and so behind on chores. I read a book. For gosh sakes. I read 1 dang book people. And guess what, it wasn't even a fun selfish 'for me' book. It was a PARENTING BOOK. So, for the last few days I have been reading at naptimes, reading after bedtimes, and guess what, the work added up. Silly me. Why would I even attempt to do something important like read a book in search a better understanding of my strong willed child? Why would I take the time to become a better mommy to her by reading something like that? Silly me. I should have never read it and been back one week ago wanting to rewind time and never have kids (more on that in an upcoming post). That was a much healthier place to be.
Overwhelmed. That's the only emotion I feel today. And I'm pretty freaking sure I'll feel that way for the next 18 years, or more. Pretty, dang, hopeless. I can't ever get caught up on rest, I'll feel tired 'forever'. I can't ever get caught up on chores, there will literally ALWAYS be something on my to do list. Every thing I ever do that is supposed to be relaxing will be tainted with guilt, for years and years to come. Watching a movie?.....I should be picking up toys. Taking a bath?....I should be folding laundry. Looking through a magazine?......only on the toilet. Reading a book?......there's dishes awaiting. Going on a date?.....my kids are upset we left. Blogging to process life verbally to anyone....anyone?.....your house is a freaking wreck.
Guilt guilt guilt.
So please, if you find yourself in the position today where you actually get to experience a true break, true rest, true freedom, true down time with nothing looming in the shadows, please: LIVE IT UP.
I'd like to take solace in the fact that today is in fact our friday, but I have learned that is a very deceptive hope to latch on to. You see, we've made the switch. Weekend are no longer for relaxing, they are for WORK WORK WORK. Its the only time my man can get caught up on his few chores (yard work, work laundry, bills) and the only time I can do certain chores that are impossible to do during the week with two toddlers (vacuuming, cleaning their rooms, cleaning their bathrooms, and any project that takes longer than 1 hour to do). Weekend actually make me more tired most of the time, and almost always result in the inability to walk as I try to push myself through my most recent back/hip injury thanks to the pregnancy and expanding hips.
LOL! Can't even finish this post.....a little voice is calling me in the room across the house. Better catch it before baby sissy is awoken by the hysteria.
Oh motherhood. I love you. But stay at home motherhood, you will be my demise.
These are the days I walk around feeling defeated THE ENTIRE DAY. Shoulders down, head down, tears streaming down my face, and no forcefulness of fake emotion makes much of a difference at all. Why? I am exhausted. Literally I want to fall over into my bed and sleep for 3 days straight. But, that would put me even more behind in work, and make me even more stressed out, so nevermind. Sleeps not that important, right?!?!?!
Part of it is my fault, the reason I feel overwhelmed and so behind on chores. I read a book. For gosh sakes. I read 1 dang book people. And guess what, it wasn't even a fun selfish 'for me' book. It was a PARENTING BOOK. So, for the last few days I have been reading at naptimes, reading after bedtimes, and guess what, the work added up. Silly me. Why would I even attempt to do something important like read a book in search a better understanding of my strong willed child? Why would I take the time to become a better mommy to her by reading something like that? Silly me. I should have never read it and been back one week ago wanting to rewind time and never have kids (more on that in an upcoming post). That was a much healthier place to be.
Overwhelmed. That's the only emotion I feel today. And I'm pretty freaking sure I'll feel that way for the next 18 years, or more. Pretty, dang, hopeless. I can't ever get caught up on rest, I'll feel tired 'forever'. I can't ever get caught up on chores, there will literally ALWAYS be something on my to do list. Every thing I ever do that is supposed to be relaxing will be tainted with guilt, for years and years to come. Watching a movie?.....I should be picking up toys. Taking a bath?....I should be folding laundry. Looking through a magazine?......only on the toilet. Reading a book?......there's dishes awaiting. Going on a date?.....my kids are upset we left. Blogging to process life verbally to anyone....anyone?.....your house is a freaking wreck.
Guilt guilt guilt.
So please, if you find yourself in the position today where you actually get to experience a true break, true rest, true freedom, true down time with nothing looming in the shadows, please: LIVE IT UP.
I'd like to take solace in the fact that today is in fact our friday, but I have learned that is a very deceptive hope to latch on to. You see, we've made the switch. Weekend are no longer for relaxing, they are for WORK WORK WORK. Its the only time my man can get caught up on his few chores (yard work, work laundry, bills) and the only time I can do certain chores that are impossible to do during the week with two toddlers (vacuuming, cleaning their rooms, cleaning their bathrooms, and any project that takes longer than 1 hour to do). Weekend actually make me more tired most of the time, and almost always result in the inability to walk as I try to push myself through my most recent back/hip injury thanks to the pregnancy and expanding hips.
LOL! Can't even finish this post.....a little voice is calling me in the room across the house. Better catch it before baby sissy is awoken by the hysteria.
Oh motherhood. I love you. But stay at home motherhood, you will be my demise.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Strong Willed Child.
I have found a new counselor and new best friend all wrapped into one portable rectangle of relief:
The Strong Willed Child, By Dobson.
Don't know what I'll be saying by the end of it, but at 50 pages in, it is such a breath of fresh air. So comforting to read stories from other mommies, and to know that what I am going through is challenging but normal.
This is the first time in months I haven't felt like a total failure in my parenting. Such a great perspective change: this is my God given assignment and the Lord is going to help me fulfill it. It is not a curse. I am not failing. Well, lets be honest, we are all failing. But its great to realize I'm not failing anymore than everyone around me!!!
Don't know why I'm the one who needed to receive a child with a will stronger than most, but apparently the Lord has a purpose.
Getting myself prepped for what seems like a long hard journey, but with a new hope in mind. Just like in childbirth, there is a purpose to this pain. She will be great. All I am asked is to keep on doing what I'm doing, being obedient to the Lord myself. She makes for a challenging child, but she will be an immeasurable asset to the kingdom someday.
I think someday I will look back at this all and wonder why I got to be the lucky one to have a child like her.
The challenge now, to see her as an asset today.
The Strong Willed Child, By Dobson.
Don't know what I'll be saying by the end of it, but at 50 pages in, it is such a breath of fresh air. So comforting to read stories from other mommies, and to know that what I am going through is challenging but normal.
This is the first time in months I haven't felt like a total failure in my parenting. Such a great perspective change: this is my God given assignment and the Lord is going to help me fulfill it. It is not a curse. I am not failing. Well, lets be honest, we are all failing. But its great to realize I'm not failing anymore than everyone around me!!!
Don't know why I'm the one who needed to receive a child with a will stronger than most, but apparently the Lord has a purpose.
Getting myself prepped for what seems like a long hard journey, but with a new hope in mind. Just like in childbirth, there is a purpose to this pain. She will be great. All I am asked is to keep on doing what I'm doing, being obedient to the Lord myself. She makes for a challenging child, but she will be an immeasurable asset to the kingdom someday.
I think someday I will look back at this all and wonder why I got to be the lucky one to have a child like her.
The challenge now, to see her as an asset today.
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