I'm 35 years old today. 35.
35.
35.
Ok, it's time for me to get over that but it does have a different ring to it, doesn't it? If I weren't so busy right now, I'd probably find myself dwelling on what I have managed (or not managed) to accomplish in my whopping 35 years but then that might lead me to a mid-life crisis which I seriously couldn't afford these days.
It's a pivotal age at a pivotal time in my life where nothing seems definite and "the right life" is a bit illusive. I haven't been writing lately because we put our house on the market. If our house sells, we'll move. If it doesn't, we'll stay. It's as simple as that yet it's not the least bit uncomplicated.
From struggling with the emotional issues related to a potential move to the ridiculous logistics of hauling 3 kids out of the house at a moment's notice for house showings and the pure insanity of keeping our chaotic house in a state of appearing calm, clean and uncluttered is, at moments, exhilarating and adrenalin-inducing and, at others, sheer madness. I've decided to ban madness from my mind today because it is my birthday so I'm not going to let anything ruffle my feathers - if the wisdom of my years will allow me that strength. We'll see. Either way, as I live through another day celebrating and reflecting on my ever-distant birth, I hope to embrace this rare moment of calmness in my heart and appreciate how good my life is regardless of how hard it is.
I'm alive. I'm relatively happy and there is a lot of love in this house or in any house in which we find ourselves living.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Gasping for air
I watch the clock like I used to when I worked for pay. I eagerly await 5:40 which is when my husband typically comes home. Although it will still be bedlam until 7:30 or so, it is reassuring to know that I share this, uh, fun with someone else.
I still have to take a moment to reflect on how ridiculous my days can be. Today, it involved nice things like three boys playing with trains, running around in or near the sprinkler, silly giggles and tickles but it also included poop diapers removed in the crib (hence, poop on the sheets, blankets, child), pee on the carpet, getting Dylan down from the bay window above the couch, and, later, performing the Heimlich on him due to a jelly bean. (The jelly bean was meant as a treat for all 3 boys for playing so well together. As is so typical around here, a well intentioned idea turned into an unexpectedly crummy situation.) Thankfully, the jelly bean left his throat and his color changed back to normal after approaching a frighteningly purple color. Thanking my lucky stars for having taken the CPR coarse at the NICU, I headed off to make dinner, dumped out another potty full of pee, and consoled another crying babe.
Before I had kids, most days I stayed in the same basic mood for most of the day. With the exception of stressful times, such as being tailgated by an angry driver or a bad project at work, I was usually in a relatively content mood. These days, my moods change from bliss, despair, stress, panic, contentment, pleasant to bafflement at an unpredictable, seemingly crack-inspired, frantic pace. The days that I find myself feeling completely, utterly, and miserably incompetent, it's because I AM. Who wouldn't be? Perhaps if I were a robot I could get through the day, going through the motions, without succumbing to the mind-rippingly, emotional tornado that blasts through here as soon as my precious babies open their beautiful, little eyes.
It's taken me well over an hour to write this much. Since I started, I've dumped more pee from the potty, fed three kids, made bottles for two, rewarded my oldest for using the potty and jumped up and down in frustration as I tried to finish my post while being yelled at for something as simple (and annoying) as, "Mom, can you skip this song?"
And to end the post with more bliss, I managed to make my husband mad for immediately handing over a whining baby before he was able to eat and, mostly, for not being very nice about it when I did. He'll understand later after the babes shut up enough for me to explain why today was yet another fun-filled day in child-rearing bliss.
I still have to take a moment to reflect on how ridiculous my days can be. Today, it involved nice things like three boys playing with trains, running around in or near the sprinkler, silly giggles and tickles but it also included poop diapers removed in the crib (hence, poop on the sheets, blankets, child), pee on the carpet, getting Dylan down from the bay window above the couch, and, later, performing the Heimlich on him due to a jelly bean. (The jelly bean was meant as a treat for all 3 boys for playing so well together. As is so typical around here, a well intentioned idea turned into an unexpectedly crummy situation.) Thankfully, the jelly bean left his throat and his color changed back to normal after approaching a frighteningly purple color. Thanking my lucky stars for having taken the CPR coarse at the NICU, I headed off to make dinner, dumped out another potty full of pee, and consoled another crying babe.
Before I had kids, most days I stayed in the same basic mood for most of the day. With the exception of stressful times, such as being tailgated by an angry driver or a bad project at work, I was usually in a relatively content mood. These days, my moods change from bliss, despair, stress, panic, contentment, pleasant to bafflement at an unpredictable, seemingly crack-inspired, frantic pace. The days that I find myself feeling completely, utterly, and miserably incompetent, it's because I AM. Who wouldn't be? Perhaps if I were a robot I could get through the day, going through the motions, without succumbing to the mind-rippingly, emotional tornado that blasts through here as soon as my precious babies open their beautiful, little eyes.
It's taken me well over an hour to write this much. Since I started, I've dumped more pee from the potty, fed three kids, made bottles for two, rewarded my oldest for using the potty and jumped up and down in frustration as I tried to finish my post while being yelled at for something as simple (and annoying) as, "Mom, can you skip this song?"
And to end the post with more bliss, I managed to make my husband mad for immediately handing over a whining baby before he was able to eat and, mostly, for not being very nice about it when I did. He'll understand later after the babes shut up enough for me to explain why today was yet another fun-filled day in child-rearing bliss.
Tot pursuit
I sneak a sly glance over my shoulder. The coast is clear. False alarm. Another sound. Another glance. Typing faster. Subject in view. Cover blown? I won’t risk turning my head. Fingers type, eyes peaking. Subject gone. Now, two subjects and a bouncing ball. Perhaps the ball is more interesting than me. Steal a glance and see one subject looking away, trying to poop. Perhaps pooping is more interesting than me. Pitter patter the feet slap the floor. Two sets of feet. Ball hits my foot. “Ball” uttered repeatedly by subject. Standing super still. Subject retracts ball and moves away pursuing thrown ball. Whew. Close call.
How long will my luck hold? Perhaps I can risk moving one foot in order to be more comfortable standing here typing. Oh no. I got too confident. Looked as one subject saw me. The other subject is approaching. Afraid to look. Subject is still approaching but seems to have something in his hands that is more interesting than me.
Ah shit. “Bobble” and “mommy” uttered by each. Alas, they have found me. Repeat: they have found me.
Note: Third subject was having quiet time in his room; otherwise, entire attempt of doing something for myself for a damn change would have been completely impossible.
How long will my luck hold? Perhaps I can risk moving one foot in order to be more comfortable standing here typing. Oh no. I got too confident. Looked as one subject saw me. The other subject is approaching. Afraid to look. Subject is still approaching but seems to have something in his hands that is more interesting than me.
Ah shit. “Bobble” and “mommy” uttered by each. Alas, they have found me. Repeat: they have found me.
Note: Third subject was having quiet time in his room; otherwise, entire attempt of doing something for myself for a damn change would have been completely impossible.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Stormy weather
If you've read my posts before, you would assume the title for this post is alluding to my tornadic-whirlwind-crazy-freaking life but, actually, I'm writing about the lovely storm that blew through last night.
I swear I have a super power to sense when a storm hits. I was in the middle of an annoying dream when I was bolted awake by the sound of wind screaming over the house. Not the best sound to wake up to in an area prone to tornadoes. After breaking through the thick fog of sleep encompassing my exhausted husband's brain (it was 3:45 a.m.), I convinced him we needed to get the babies up and that we all needed to get in the closet - our designated tornado "shelter". The TV, showing the angry red and purple storm on Doppler, was on full blast and we buzzed around the house snatching warm, sleepy babies from their comfy beds and rushed them to the closet. As I ran around the house, I caught snippets of the weather report: tornado warning in dallas and collin county. Joy. Winds in excess of 60-70 mph. Yippee.
My instincts have been honed after years of being scared poopless (such a mom) when storms came our way. Most of the time my concern is unwarranted but I don't feel I can risk being complacent when I have my babes to look after. Despite the chuckles from those who are unconcerned, I continue to wake up when storms blow threw. At the least, I quickly check the weather. If it's bad enough, I sit up and watch the weather until the threat has past. If it's really bad, I haul everyone out of bed until it's all fine (I only do this if there is a tornado warning which means a tornado has been spotted or has formed.)
My respect for tornadoes was established by two impressive events: a tornado hit my middle school when I was a kid, and, as a college student, I volunteered at a clean up for the town of Jarrell after a huge tornado tore through the town and killed several people. The tornado that hit my school was not a big deal and it only knocked some bricks off of one side of the building but, although I couldn't see it, we all felt the power of it as it shook the entire building as it went by. Volunteering at Jarrell was completely different. I was fortunate to be in Austin and far away from the tornado when it went by but the poor people of Jarrell were in its path. Having seen the affects of tornadoes for years, I was stunned into silence after exiting the school bus that took us to the fields - empty fields where houses used to be. The openness and silence was chilling. The land still had the energy of the category 5 tornado in the air which made the hairs of my arms stand on end. Finding the rotting carcasses of cattle in the field of tall grass provided a visual and olfactory understanding of the violence of the storm.
So, after gathering all the kiddos up and piling into the closet, I worked to pretend that the storm was no big deal. My oldest is very intuitive and had already clued into the fact that this storm was different. When I came to get him out of his room, he said to me that he was scared and that the storm was really fast. How did he know? Maybe he has acquired my super power as well. Anyway, so as we huddled together, Mom, Dad, Neil, Evan and Dylan, we had a "closet party" as we waited for the "grumpy" storm to go by. When it had past and it was time to return to our beds, thankful that we were ok, I took Neil to his room and we waved the storm bye-bye. He was very brave and didn't insist on sleeping with us even though he did seem to want to. The tuckered little twins fell back to sleep pretty quickly. Since it was almost 5:00 a.m. by this time, Chris got up and started getting ready for work, and I, relaxed once again, and fell promptly to sleep.
Waking up this morning, I felt pretty good because we managed to handle the potentially stressful situation pretty well and we didn't have any significant damage from the storm with the exception of two sections of our fence knocked over. Although I'm sure Neil was a little nervous about the storm last night, we joked about happy and grumpy storms this morning so I'm hoping that he won't be in a panic the next time we have a closet party. Of course, he did want to have one today even though the skies are relatively clear and it's not raining.
I haven't had a chance to see how the rest of the metroplex handled the storm. I heard there were some cars on houses a bit west of us and that there are large chunks of trees missing around the neighborhood. At least it seems like we all survived the storm relatively unscathed and we can relax until the next line of storms comes blowing through here.
I swear I have a super power to sense when a storm hits. I was in the middle of an annoying dream when I was bolted awake by the sound of wind screaming over the house. Not the best sound to wake up to in an area prone to tornadoes. After breaking through the thick fog of sleep encompassing my exhausted husband's brain (it was 3:45 a.m.), I convinced him we needed to get the babies up and that we all needed to get in the closet - our designated tornado "shelter". The TV, showing the angry red and purple storm on Doppler, was on full blast and we buzzed around the house snatching warm, sleepy babies from their comfy beds and rushed them to the closet. As I ran around the house, I caught snippets of the weather report: tornado warning in dallas and collin county. Joy. Winds in excess of 60-70 mph. Yippee.
My instincts have been honed after years of being scared poopless (such a mom) when storms came our way. Most of the time my concern is unwarranted but I don't feel I can risk being complacent when I have my babes to look after. Despite the chuckles from those who are unconcerned, I continue to wake up when storms blow threw. At the least, I quickly check the weather. If it's bad enough, I sit up and watch the weather until the threat has past. If it's really bad, I haul everyone out of bed until it's all fine (I only do this if there is a tornado warning which means a tornado has been spotted or has formed.)
My respect for tornadoes was established by two impressive events: a tornado hit my middle school when I was a kid, and, as a college student, I volunteered at a clean up for the town of Jarrell after a huge tornado tore through the town and killed several people. The tornado that hit my school was not a big deal and it only knocked some bricks off of one side of the building but, although I couldn't see it, we all felt the power of it as it shook the entire building as it went by. Volunteering at Jarrell was completely different. I was fortunate to be in Austin and far away from the tornado when it went by but the poor people of Jarrell were in its path. Having seen the affects of tornadoes for years, I was stunned into silence after exiting the school bus that took us to the fields - empty fields where houses used to be. The openness and silence was chilling. The land still had the energy of the category 5 tornado in the air which made the hairs of my arms stand on end. Finding the rotting carcasses of cattle in the field of tall grass provided a visual and olfactory understanding of the violence of the storm.
So, after gathering all the kiddos up and piling into the closet, I worked to pretend that the storm was no big deal. My oldest is very intuitive and had already clued into the fact that this storm was different. When I came to get him out of his room, he said to me that he was scared and that the storm was really fast. How did he know? Maybe he has acquired my super power as well. Anyway, so as we huddled together, Mom, Dad, Neil, Evan and Dylan, we had a "closet party" as we waited for the "grumpy" storm to go by. When it had past and it was time to return to our beds, thankful that we were ok, I took Neil to his room and we waved the storm bye-bye. He was very brave and didn't insist on sleeping with us even though he did seem to want to. The tuckered little twins fell back to sleep pretty quickly. Since it was almost 5:00 a.m. by this time, Chris got up and started getting ready for work, and I, relaxed once again, and fell promptly to sleep.
Waking up this morning, I felt pretty good because we managed to handle the potentially stressful situation pretty well and we didn't have any significant damage from the storm with the exception of two sections of our fence knocked over. Although I'm sure Neil was a little nervous about the storm last night, we joked about happy and grumpy storms this morning so I'm hoping that he won't be in a panic the next time we have a closet party. Of course, he did want to have one today even though the skies are relatively clear and it's not raining.
I haven't had a chance to see how the rest of the metroplex handled the storm. I heard there were some cars on houses a bit west of us and that there are large chunks of trees missing around the neighborhood. At least it seems like we all survived the storm relatively unscathed and we can relax until the next line of storms comes blowing through here.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
My ridiculous life
I'm beginning to believe that humans weren't designed for 3 children 3 and under. Well, 3 1/2 and under now but either way. Perhaps it's just me who is not designed for it but that would mean there is something wrong with me and I'm tired of beating myself over what is truly a ridiculous life.
When I try to find an analogy that might provide a glimpse into our world, everything falls short. For instance, I picture the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy is working at the chocolate company and is overwhelmed by the chocolate coming down the conveyor belt. I can relate to the sense of things piling up and occurring regardless of my capacity to handle them or not. I can relate to using every part of my body to hold, carry, or work with my babies but I can't relate to the background laughter because it just ain't funny. I can't relate to standing in one spot or having other people there to do part of the work. Finally, I can only imagine that it smelled good at the chocolate company (and thus not like dirty diapers), Lucy had probably had a shower and she was able to at least eat something.
Today, I had a moment that pushed me over into "beat myself up for not being an octopus with eight hands, a spider with a million eye balls, or a vegetable that doesn't react obviously to stressful, external stimuli." In brief, here was the scenario as I described to my hubby moments afterwards (Note: this all occurred within 5-10 minutes at the most):
"neil peed in potty (good). i didn't know he did (not so good). evan found it (bad). evan splashed around in it (very bad). rushed evan and dylan to bath (good). neil found lysol i was going to use to clean up play room (bad). neil sprayed it all over him (very bad). i bathed all 3 boys (good but bad). all three boys soaked me with water (annoying). put babies in neil's room with gate while i finished neil's bath (good). forgot neil had the scrabble game on the floor (bad). evan and dylan found scrabble game (bad). thankfully, other than scaring me to death, they didn't eat any of the pieces they had thrown all over the floor (good)."
To think that after all this ridiculous business, I actually beat myself up over my inability to take this peacefully. Only a zombie would respond calmly to this situation. Seriously, an 18-month old splashing in his brother's pee, a 3.5 year old spraying himself with Lysol, and so forth. Now I'm going to beat myself up for beating myself up. Now, that makes sense.
So, tomorrow will be just as stupid as today and, tomorrow, I'll feel just as incompetent. Perhaps at the end of the day, after the boys have survived the chaos once more, I'll pat myself on the back for a damn change and take heart that they're getting one day closer to being bigger boys and maybe, just maybe, our lives will be a little calmer and a little less ridiculous.
I can only hope.
When I try to find an analogy that might provide a glimpse into our world, everything falls short. For instance, I picture the I Love Lucy episode where Lucy is working at the chocolate company and is overwhelmed by the chocolate coming down the conveyor belt. I can relate to the sense of things piling up and occurring regardless of my capacity to handle them or not. I can relate to using every part of my body to hold, carry, or work with my babies but I can't relate to the background laughter because it just ain't funny. I can't relate to standing in one spot or having other people there to do part of the work. Finally, I can only imagine that it smelled good at the chocolate company (and thus not like dirty diapers), Lucy had probably had a shower and she was able to at least eat something.
Today, I had a moment that pushed me over into "beat myself up for not being an octopus with eight hands, a spider with a million eye balls, or a vegetable that doesn't react obviously to stressful, external stimuli." In brief, here was the scenario as I described to my hubby moments afterwards (Note: this all occurred within 5-10 minutes at the most):
"neil peed in potty (good). i didn't know he did (not so good). evan found it (bad). evan splashed around in it (very bad). rushed evan and dylan to bath (good). neil found lysol i was going to use to clean up play room (bad). neil sprayed it all over him (very bad). i bathed all 3 boys (good but bad). all three boys soaked me with water (annoying). put babies in neil's room with gate while i finished neil's bath (good). forgot neil had the scrabble game on the floor (bad). evan and dylan found scrabble game (bad). thankfully, other than scaring me to death, they didn't eat any of the pieces they had thrown all over the floor (good)."
To think that after all this ridiculous business, I actually beat myself up over my inability to take this peacefully. Only a zombie would respond calmly to this situation. Seriously, an 18-month old splashing in his brother's pee, a 3.5 year old spraying himself with Lysol, and so forth. Now I'm going to beat myself up for beating myself up. Now, that makes sense.
So, tomorrow will be just as stupid as today and, tomorrow, I'll feel just as incompetent. Perhaps at the end of the day, after the boys have survived the chaos once more, I'll pat myself on the back for a damn change and take heart that they're getting one day closer to being bigger boys and maybe, just maybe, our lives will be a little calmer and a little less ridiculous.
I can only hope.
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