Every night for the last few weeks, my oldest son has been asking me to tell the "3 boys go on a trip" story. Perhaps if I keep repeating this fanciful and exciting tale, I might rewire the memories in my brain to reflect a less exhausting trip. Yes, we survived and we're back.
When I had told people that we were going to drive from Dallas, TX, to Salt Lake City, UT, with our 3 boys (oldest being 3 years old), they thought I was plum mad. I agreed pretty much but it was what we had to do in order to go have Christmas with my husband's family. We very much wanted to go. Who would be crazy enough to pass on spending time with a groovy family, in a beautiful, winter wonderland of a city during the holiday season? So, balancing the crazies, we decided it would be crazier not to go and flying just wasn't an option.
After being stripped of my lazy, "can't do it" ways after becoming a parent, I've almost rebelled against my previous tendencies by making my life just a little more hectic and nuts. Ok, so I couldn't find a lot of people who had driven that far (2 full days) with 3 boys as young as mine but we still have to try, don't we? So we planned and planned and planned and we did it and we enjoyed it and we'll never regret it.
To say it went smoothly would be absolute garbage but to say it was as bad as my fears had been prior to leaving would also be wrong. It was fun, exciting and hard. Very hard. It would have been a lot harder though if we hadn't planned it out so well. If there are any of you who are as insane as us, you have our sympathy. Perhaps the following list of things that helped us would be helpful for anyone who would be interested in taking a similar trip:
1) Research your route thoroughly. I surfed the net for all the child-friendly places between here and SLC. Since we're bleeding money these days, I looked for free places such as malls with play areas, libraries, parks (for those traveling in good weather) and museums (although many charge). Our best find that came in very handy on the trip was the Peace Cafe in Monticello, UT. The two women working that day were gracious enough to let us bring our cold, little babies in to change clothes in their bathroom and basically take over the front room until we could get organized enough to order their very healthy and refreshing food.
2) Bring new toys and activities and introduce them periodically. One very handy thing I made for the trip was a map of our route which I had laminated. I brought stickers so my oldest could mark where we were on the map as we went. Practically eliminated the "are we there yet?" interrogations.
I also am proud to say that a DVD player was not necessary on our trip. We brought a portable DVD player that we had planned on hooking up to our electric outlet in the car but it didn't end up working. The boys watched one show the entire time - going and returning. I think it helped that one of us sat back with the children as much as possible in order to entertain them. It also made the trip less boring for us too.
3) Be precise about packing belongings in the car. Before we left, I studied our Honda Odyssey and planned how to best use every nook and cranny. For instance, the Odyssey has a compartment under the floor which we used for emergency supplies that we wanted to have but didn't expect to need. Also, I found cardboard boxes which would fit under the chairs and put the baby jars of food in them. They were out of the way yet they were still handy.
4) If you see a truck with a spotlight but no obvious police lights, don't pass him just in case. Yep. He tricked me but he didn't pull me over. He just flipped his siren on just as I was passing him and made my heart leap into my throat.
5) Make sure tires, wiper blades, oil, etc. in car are good. I did not anticipate that our wiper blades would be a problem since they worked well in the rain. Unfortunately, they didn't work well in the snow. We replaced them and everything was fine.
6) Bring all medications (particularly for the kids) even if they're not taking them now. For example, I brought the breathing treatment medicines that my boys occasionally have to take. One child was finishing up his treatment but I went on and packed all the boys' meds and we ended up needing it because every one of them got sick. I also packed the nebulizer which was definitely needed.
7) Child safety supplies. If you're going somewhere that won't be childproofed such as a hotel it helps to bring some basic child proofing materials. I brought outlet covers because I knew I didn't want to be chasing the twins around from one outlet to the next on the evenings we had to stop on the way to SLC. It proved very helpful. Unfortunately, I forgot to get them when we left so the maids probably thought I was on crack.
8) It's all how you look at it. We bought a CD at the Peace Cafe that we ended up playing quite a bit on the trip. It was nice that one of the songs was an uplifting one about how it's up to us to chose how we look at things. I noticed my husband would sneak that song in about the time I'd be losing my mind. It's true though. We do have a choice and it helped to remind myself of that.
So, tonight, when I put my little dude down to sleep again, I'll tell him this amazing story about the three little boys who went on an adventure and the story will be filled with giggles and laughs and happy little boys and, even though it was not always like that, the story will be true.
Peace and happy New Year!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Friday, December 14, 2007
Blood Knuckles
My Mom put a funny spin on our current not-so-funny situation. You see, 2 out of 3 boys have pink eye. So lovely. Mom said that on Christmas Day we may be confused and think it's Easter since there may be so many little pink-eyed bunnies hopping around. Well put, Mom, well put.
Not only are a few eyes pink, my poor hands look so beaten up that I look like a professional boxer. Perhaps I should tape my knuckles and make myself look like a tough gal rather than appearing like a tired Mom with sick children at home. You see, if you don't have children, the reason my hands look awful is because I have to wash them and wash them and wash them and wash them and wash them. I don't think there is a lotion on the market that could soothe my poor cracked skin. It gets so bad my knuckles bleed which is, again, just lovely.
Just in time for the holidays, we have a virus or two parading through the children, waving its nasty flags of snot, vomit and ug. It's beautiful to behold. I'm hoping that this will all go away in the next day or two and then we'll all be virus free to enjoy the holidays. Since too much hope can lead to exceptional disappointment and since disappointment is rather unpleasant and all too frequent these days I'm trying to cope with what is going on and do the best that I can. Of course, I still stress out and worry that my boys will be sick on our ridiculously long drive (yes, we're driving) to Salt Lake City, UT, from Dallas, TX. If you didn't think I was insane before, you'll have the confirmation you needed because we're totally nutso.
Rather than visions of sugar plums, I'm having visions of barfing babes in car seats and tearful parents, racing as fast as we can to SLC without, of course, endangering our precious, vomiting babes. We'll see. Until then, I'll scrub my epidermis religiously, try to keep the babies from crawling in recently spewed vomit and medicate, medicate, medicate the boys until we're all well again.
So, my Christmas wish for all you parents out there is: May your children be healthy, may your nights be quiet, may your hearts be happy and may your knuckles be soft and smooth. Peace to all.
Not only are a few eyes pink, my poor hands look so beaten up that I look like a professional boxer. Perhaps I should tape my knuckles and make myself look like a tough gal rather than appearing like a tired Mom with sick children at home. You see, if you don't have children, the reason my hands look awful is because I have to wash them and wash them and wash them and wash them and wash them. I don't think there is a lotion on the market that could soothe my poor cracked skin. It gets so bad my knuckles bleed which is, again, just lovely.
Just in time for the holidays, we have a virus or two parading through the children, waving its nasty flags of snot, vomit and ug. It's beautiful to behold. I'm hoping that this will all go away in the next day or two and then we'll all be virus free to enjoy the holidays. Since too much hope can lead to exceptional disappointment and since disappointment is rather unpleasant and all too frequent these days I'm trying to cope with what is going on and do the best that I can. Of course, I still stress out and worry that my boys will be sick on our ridiculously long drive (yes, we're driving) to Salt Lake City, UT, from Dallas, TX. If you didn't think I was insane before, you'll have the confirmation you needed because we're totally nutso.
Rather than visions of sugar plums, I'm having visions of barfing babes in car seats and tearful parents, racing as fast as we can to SLC without, of course, endangering our precious, vomiting babes. We'll see. Until then, I'll scrub my epidermis religiously, try to keep the babies from crawling in recently spewed vomit and medicate, medicate, medicate the boys until we're all well again.
So, my Christmas wish for all you parents out there is: May your children be healthy, may your nights be quiet, may your hearts be happy and may your knuckles be soft and smooth. Peace to all.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
The sun does set
The sun has set and so are my aching muscles and bones. Over the last few weeks, things have been pretty mild and even fun at times. I've enjoyed the feeling that maybe we're getting past the harder times. Overall, we are but the last few days have been rife with examples to the contrary.
Amusing things come to mind such as Neil's unrelenting pursuit for arguments. The best I've heard yet was his demand that I make the sun rise again. I guess it might not seem absurd to him. It's flattering to think that he thinks I'm that powerful. Of course, the fact that he says no to me all the time suggests that he doesn't respect my god like powers enough.
The twins are being pretty adorable these days and enjoy playing together. The biggest challenge is when their two minds work together to create even more unsafe activities with which to entertain each other. They give me a whole new respect for team work. Of course, it's also dangerous when they don't work together such as when Evan pushes a toy on which Dylan is standing.
Today provided two exciting episodes that I would have been happy enough to have allowed someone else to experience. The first one involved our television and Neil. The TV has been a concern of ours for a long time and Chris and I had not determined the best way to secure it. As far as we could tell, our biggest concern was that the twins would accidentally knock it over but we felt we had a little time until they could reach it. Classic parent mistake: we focused on the wrong kid. Duh. We thought Neil was disinclined for such activities but, today, he decided that moving the TV would be a good thing to do. As I was talking on the phone, I watched as he began to move it and I ran faster than I have in a long time in order to prevent it from falling. Neil subsequently had nap time.
With the strength that I didn't have (hence, part of the reason I'm hurting tonight), I lifted the TV over my head and put it on the highest part of the entertainment center. This took Herculean strength and engenuity, neither of which I found easily. The TV was moved. I had a beer. God forgive me, I had a beer.
The next pleasant event this evening involved bath time. Chris was having a rare evening out so I was in charge of bath time tonight. I had just finished bathing all 3 boys. The twins were in a play pen fussing for me to return and Neil was in the bath demanding bubble time. It was a no bubble night and that was that. Neil didn't agree and wanted to argue with me about getting out of the tub. All patience spent, I wasn't going to argue with him so I started to pick him up out of the tub and slipped. Bam. Nothing like a nice tub to hit at the end of a hard day. Can't wait to see the bruises. Being the hilarious 2 year old, Neil yelled loudly about how he hurt (his latest drama - a fly buzzing by him would send him into a tail spin). He wasn't the one who fell. Of course, I couldn't let him win the argument just because I couldn't stay on my feet so, a little more carefully, I hauled his little self out of the tub and ended that argument.
Part of me wants to get all philosophical right now about where I am in my life and the important role I play in these boys' lives and the rest of me, the tired me, just wants to be so thankful that the sun has set and that the sun won't rise for a few more hours. If I could make the sun rise at will, I might ask it to rise a few more hours later just so I could get some sleep!
Amusing things come to mind such as Neil's unrelenting pursuit for arguments. The best I've heard yet was his demand that I make the sun rise again. I guess it might not seem absurd to him. It's flattering to think that he thinks I'm that powerful. Of course, the fact that he says no to me all the time suggests that he doesn't respect my god like powers enough.
The twins are being pretty adorable these days and enjoy playing together. The biggest challenge is when their two minds work together to create even more unsafe activities with which to entertain each other. They give me a whole new respect for team work. Of course, it's also dangerous when they don't work together such as when Evan pushes a toy on which Dylan is standing.
Today provided two exciting episodes that I would have been happy enough to have allowed someone else to experience. The first one involved our television and Neil. The TV has been a concern of ours for a long time and Chris and I had not determined the best way to secure it. As far as we could tell, our biggest concern was that the twins would accidentally knock it over but we felt we had a little time until they could reach it. Classic parent mistake: we focused on the wrong kid. Duh. We thought Neil was disinclined for such activities but, today, he decided that moving the TV would be a good thing to do. As I was talking on the phone, I watched as he began to move it and I ran faster than I have in a long time in order to prevent it from falling. Neil subsequently had nap time.
With the strength that I didn't have (hence, part of the reason I'm hurting tonight), I lifted the TV over my head and put it on the highest part of the entertainment center. This took Herculean strength and engenuity, neither of which I found easily. The TV was moved. I had a beer. God forgive me, I had a beer.
The next pleasant event this evening involved bath time. Chris was having a rare evening out so I was in charge of bath time tonight. I had just finished bathing all 3 boys. The twins were in a play pen fussing for me to return and Neil was in the bath demanding bubble time. It was a no bubble night and that was that. Neil didn't agree and wanted to argue with me about getting out of the tub. All patience spent, I wasn't going to argue with him so I started to pick him up out of the tub and slipped. Bam. Nothing like a nice tub to hit at the end of a hard day. Can't wait to see the bruises. Being the hilarious 2 year old, Neil yelled loudly about how he hurt (his latest drama - a fly buzzing by him would send him into a tail spin). He wasn't the one who fell. Of course, I couldn't let him win the argument just because I couldn't stay on my feet so, a little more carefully, I hauled his little self out of the tub and ended that argument.
Part of me wants to get all philosophical right now about where I am in my life and the important role I play in these boys' lives and the rest of me, the tired me, just wants to be so thankful that the sun has set and that the sun won't rise for a few more hours. If I could make the sun rise at will, I might ask it to rise a few more hours later just so I could get some sleep!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Pausing to think about thanking
It's difficult to be thankful when you can't think straight. I've been suffering from crooked thinking the last few weeks. For those of you who read my posts, you'll notice it has been a while since I last wrote. I have had plenty to write about but, to be honest, things have been so unpleasant and exhausting that I was afraid to vent my feelings because I was concerned my friends and family might think I have lost my marbles. Ok, so I have but I'm at least on the ground looking for those little, round rascals and have found a few that have escaped me. Meanwhile, the air is chilling and the holidays are starting.
Thanksgiving has never been my favorite and I rarely get into the spirit of it but I felt the need this afternoon to actually welcome the true spirit of being thankful. The holiday provides an opportunity for us to pause and reflect, to take stock of what our life is right now in this very moment and to acknowledge the positive in our lives rather than dwell on what we're missing, wanting, yearning for. Of course, this is just an opportunity and many of us are so busy with life and our reactions to it that we barely have time to think about what to be thankful for. To sit and be thankful is an important exercise though because, if we don't do this occasionally, we run the risk of being bitter and negative and unpleasant. Such sad qualities, in my opinion, tend to discourage others from wanting to be near you. It blinds you from good opportunities and sucks the happiness out of life.
I used to resist the idea of Thanksgiving because of the history of the holiday and what it represented. I still don't like the historical aspect of it. Happy pilgrims, happy "Indians". It all seems simplistic and unreal to me. I've decided to ignore that though and embrace what I want it to be. I can't do anything about how our ancestors treated Native Americans but I can focus my attention on my family and friends and ponder how immensely blessed I am despite how hard life is and can be. It is hard. It is extremely hard but I have beautiful babies. I have a strong, amazing husband. My parents, my brother, sister-in-law, neice and nephew, my parents-in-laws and the rest of my husband's family, my extended family - they are all good people. Wonderful, sweet, smart, funny, creative, loving people and my gratitude for them flows through my veins and I wish them all the same, deep happiness that they bring me.
Although I can't promise that I won't get annoyed with how crazy my life is these days or that I won't look to the heavens and ask (no, scream), "what the hell, man?" at least in the deep recesses of my being I will still know that life is good even though it isn't always.
Sending my love to everyone. Happy Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving has never been my favorite and I rarely get into the spirit of it but I felt the need this afternoon to actually welcome the true spirit of being thankful. The holiday provides an opportunity for us to pause and reflect, to take stock of what our life is right now in this very moment and to acknowledge the positive in our lives rather than dwell on what we're missing, wanting, yearning for. Of course, this is just an opportunity and many of us are so busy with life and our reactions to it that we barely have time to think about what to be thankful for. To sit and be thankful is an important exercise though because, if we don't do this occasionally, we run the risk of being bitter and negative and unpleasant. Such sad qualities, in my opinion, tend to discourage others from wanting to be near you. It blinds you from good opportunities and sucks the happiness out of life.
I used to resist the idea of Thanksgiving because of the history of the holiday and what it represented. I still don't like the historical aspect of it. Happy pilgrims, happy "Indians". It all seems simplistic and unreal to me. I've decided to ignore that though and embrace what I want it to be. I can't do anything about how our ancestors treated Native Americans but I can focus my attention on my family and friends and ponder how immensely blessed I am despite how hard life is and can be. It is hard. It is extremely hard but I have beautiful babies. I have a strong, amazing husband. My parents, my brother, sister-in-law, neice and nephew, my parents-in-laws and the rest of my husband's family, my extended family - they are all good people. Wonderful, sweet, smart, funny, creative, loving people and my gratitude for them flows through my veins and I wish them all the same, deep happiness that they bring me.
Although I can't promise that I won't get annoyed with how crazy my life is these days or that I won't look to the heavens and ask (no, scream), "what the hell, man?" at least in the deep recesses of my being I will still know that life is good even though it isn't always.
Sending my love to everyone. Happy Thanksgiving.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
One year hurl-dle
Our house as been astir with birthday tidings as the twins had their first birthday. We were all swept up in the celebration of a hard year finished and the excitement of their darling, little lives. We partied. We celebrated. We joined with super friends and family and it was a good time. The boys were showered in sweet, generous gifts which are like gifts to Chris and I as well.
As we recovered from the excitement, family returned to their respective homes and friends returned to their lives, a little virus was lurking. During the party preparation, we made a few jokes about how we hoped that the twins wouldn't get sick during their first birthday party like poor Neil did on his. Perhaps it should have been a clue at Neil's party that he wasn't feeling well when he refused to eat the cake I had baked for him. (It had nothing to do with my cooking, of course.) After having enjoyed the majority of the party, the secret virus revealed itself as Neil hurled what food he had eaten that afternoon. At the twins' party, the contrast with Neil's was evident as both boys eagerly, and messily, gobbled up their birthday cake. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Chris made their cake.)
At last! We got to celebrate a first birthday party without barfing!
Little did we know though about the secret virus. Perhaps it was laughing at us as it spread throughout our family, waiting until our guard was down, before it revealed itself. It first showed up the night before my husband's parents returned home. My father-in-law became ill but we thought it was due to his normally healthy diet being disrupted by our less than nutritious fare. But then, Dylan threw up. We hoped it was a coincidence and that maybe it was due to the fact that we had just started introducing milk to his diet. But then, Evan threw up. Then Neil threw up. Then I threw up and then Chris threw up.
Barf was everywhere.
Everywhere.
We scrambled for towels, sheets, bed spreads, diapers, anything that would catch, wipe up or remove the barf. It would be cruel of me to provide details that no one would ever want to hear so I'll just allude to how disgusting it was - I saw semi-processed food that I never want to eat again as long as I live.
The washer and dryer ran all night as we barfed and cleaned and barfed and cleaned. It started on Wednesday. Today is Sunday and Chris is the last of us to be recovering from it. So desperate to prevent a relapse of this insipid and evil virus, I stooped to buying Lysol instead of making my own green concoction (which had been my goal for the next time I bought cleaning solution). Screw that! I want chemicals, I want the equivalent of a virus-killing nuclear bomb to go off in this house to eradicate the demon. I'll be green next time.
So, the one year birthday has passed and the barf too seems to have passed. I'm hoping for a calm few weeks just to recover before Neil's 3rd birthday party. Let's hope that we don't have anything in store for us on that one.
As we recovered from the excitement, family returned to their respective homes and friends returned to their lives, a little virus was lurking. During the party preparation, we made a few jokes about how we hoped that the twins wouldn't get sick during their first birthday party like poor Neil did on his. Perhaps it should have been a clue at Neil's party that he wasn't feeling well when he refused to eat the cake I had baked for him. (It had nothing to do with my cooking, of course.) After having enjoyed the majority of the party, the secret virus revealed itself as Neil hurled what food he had eaten that afternoon. At the twins' party, the contrast with Neil's was evident as both boys eagerly, and messily, gobbled up their birthday cake. (It had nothing to do with the fact that Chris made their cake.)
At last! We got to celebrate a first birthday party without barfing!
Little did we know though about the secret virus. Perhaps it was laughing at us as it spread throughout our family, waiting until our guard was down, before it revealed itself. It first showed up the night before my husband's parents returned home. My father-in-law became ill but we thought it was due to his normally healthy diet being disrupted by our less than nutritious fare. But then, Dylan threw up. We hoped it was a coincidence and that maybe it was due to the fact that we had just started introducing milk to his diet. But then, Evan threw up. Then Neil threw up. Then I threw up and then Chris threw up.
Barf was everywhere.
Everywhere.
We scrambled for towels, sheets, bed spreads, diapers, anything that would catch, wipe up or remove the barf. It would be cruel of me to provide details that no one would ever want to hear so I'll just allude to how disgusting it was - I saw semi-processed food that I never want to eat again as long as I live.
The washer and dryer ran all night as we barfed and cleaned and barfed and cleaned. It started on Wednesday. Today is Sunday and Chris is the last of us to be recovering from it. So desperate to prevent a relapse of this insipid and evil virus, I stooped to buying Lysol instead of making my own green concoction (which had been my goal for the next time I bought cleaning solution). Screw that! I want chemicals, I want the equivalent of a virus-killing nuclear bomb to go off in this house to eradicate the demon. I'll be green next time.
So, the one year birthday has passed and the barf too seems to have passed. I'm hoping for a calm few weeks just to recover before Neil's 3rd birthday party. Let's hope that we don't have anything in store for us on that one.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Full
As I was sitting with my 3 year old, I have to admit that I wasn't being 100% present. I had a lot on my mind and was concerned about things. I was worried about money issues, about the future and how well we were caring for our little guys. Although lately it seems I meet a lot of parents who don't appear to have any financial concerns, I know we're not the only ones struggling every pay check to make ends meet. We're not irresponsible people and we know how to manage our money. You just can't budget for twins, hospital bills, expensive formula, food thickeners, bad plumbing in the new-to-us house, and so forth. We've had more than our share of the unexpected and it's eaten all the reserves we had so responsibly secured. It weighs on us but we're becoming more and more skilled at living on as little as necessary but, at times, it's hard not feel beaten down and like a leach on our sweet and generous parents. It's hard to feel like the grown-up parents that we have become while we're calling home asking for money. We intend to get past this. It just isn't happening as quickly as we'd like.
So, with emotions and thoughts such as these beating around my tired brain I finally stop and hear what Neil is saying to me. Without any prompting he is saying, "Neil's tummy is full." I'm not sure what inspired him to say that but the impact of his words poured through me and warmed my heart and eased my spirit. I looked at all my sons and acknowledged that all their tummies were full, that they were happy and felt loved and that was all the wealth we needed. All I want is for my babies to have full tummies and that will make my heart full of peace.
Interestingly, Chris experienced a similar feeling a day or two prior and he shared it with me the evening after Neil told me about his tummy. After coming home from a hard day at work, we were all out in the backyard horsing around. Neil and Chris were pushing Evan in a toy car around and around the yard. Neil and Evan were squealing with pleasure while Dylan was getting into some kind of trouble as usual. He too put aside his feelings of being poor and realized that we had the wealth that truly counted.
So, we'll take care of our 3 little treasures. We'll invest in them and nurture them and we'll be richer than our wildest dreams.
So, with emotions and thoughts such as these beating around my tired brain I finally stop and hear what Neil is saying to me. Without any prompting he is saying, "Neil's tummy is full." I'm not sure what inspired him to say that but the impact of his words poured through me and warmed my heart and eased my spirit. I looked at all my sons and acknowledged that all their tummies were full, that they were happy and felt loved and that was all the wealth we needed. All I want is for my babies to have full tummies and that will make my heart full of peace.
Interestingly, Chris experienced a similar feeling a day or two prior and he shared it with me the evening after Neil told me about his tummy. After coming home from a hard day at work, we were all out in the backyard horsing around. Neil and Chris were pushing Evan in a toy car around and around the yard. Neil and Evan were squealing with pleasure while Dylan was getting into some kind of trouble as usual. He too put aside his feelings of being poor and realized that we had the wealth that truly counted.
So, we'll take care of our 3 little treasures. We'll invest in them and nurture them and we'll be richer than our wildest dreams.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Piece of my soul
I've been assigned by my husband to take a moment. I can't imagine why I might need one. The last few hours have been filled with needy babies, ridiculous tantrums, pokes and jabs - some unintentional and others quite on purpose. After pulling myself off the kitchen floor (where I had been bottle feeding the twins), replacing my glasses that had just been ripped roughly off my face by a smiling Dylan and pulling my disheveled and drooled on hair back out of my face I spoke toward the sky the following, motherly comment addressed to no child in particular: "Yes, please take yet one more piece of my soul."
Ok, so that was a bit extreme. Of course, after having said it, I looked over at Chris who just laughed and so did I. What a motherly thing to say. Actually, it is quite motherly in that I know I'm not the first mom to feel a bit stripped of self-hood while wiggly, parasitic (albeit adorable) babies, crawl, pull and harass every reachable part of my body. Slimed, bitten, scorned, yelled at, whined to, needed, demanded, needed, demanded, wanted. It can be a bit much at times and, at those times, it's hard to have the best perspective so it was understandable that I needed to say, "yes, please take yet one more piece of my soul."
It was such a naughty thing to say and so crummy of me that it felt super to say it. I almost felt a little weight was pulled off me (no, it wasn't Dylan climbing off of me - he was being distracted by his daddy). So, I walked out of the room and into the computer room and shut the door. Quiet. Well, except for the muffled sounds of children on the other side of the door. Perhaps if I can stay in here for just a few more minutes, I can regain my mental integrity and allow my nerves to feel unstimulated for just enough time for them to relax and be at peace even if it is just for a moment.
All the peace-love-carry my baby all the time-never let them cry-type-moms will likely frown at my detachment. That's ok because I'll take their criticism any day - it's nothing compared to my normal world so bring it on. I'd love to see a mother of 3 boys all under the age of 3 carry her babies all the time. Wouldn't that be a riot? Seriously, though, if a mom finds that kind of parenting satisfying the more power to them. Of course, I still want to see one juggling 3 boys like mine. [Devilish laughter]
So, I'm feeling a little more refreshed and ready to face the night time madness (a/k/a bath and night-night time). Perhaps a nice cold brew might help take the edge off a little more then I'll be able to sit back (it's hard to do when they're climbing all over you but I mean this figuratively) and drink in the beauty (not the beer - I only want one) of my children who actually fill my soul when they're not ripping it to shreds.
Ok, so that was a bit extreme. Of course, after having said it, I looked over at Chris who just laughed and so did I. What a motherly thing to say. Actually, it is quite motherly in that I know I'm not the first mom to feel a bit stripped of self-hood while wiggly, parasitic (albeit adorable) babies, crawl, pull and harass every reachable part of my body. Slimed, bitten, scorned, yelled at, whined to, needed, demanded, needed, demanded, wanted. It can be a bit much at times and, at those times, it's hard to have the best perspective so it was understandable that I needed to say, "yes, please take yet one more piece of my soul."
It was such a naughty thing to say and so crummy of me that it felt super to say it. I almost felt a little weight was pulled off me (no, it wasn't Dylan climbing off of me - he was being distracted by his daddy). So, I walked out of the room and into the computer room and shut the door. Quiet. Well, except for the muffled sounds of children on the other side of the door. Perhaps if I can stay in here for just a few more minutes, I can regain my mental integrity and allow my nerves to feel unstimulated for just enough time for them to relax and be at peace even if it is just for a moment.
All the peace-love-carry my baby all the time-never let them cry-type-moms will likely frown at my detachment. That's ok because I'll take their criticism any day - it's nothing compared to my normal world so bring it on. I'd love to see a mother of 3 boys all under the age of 3 carry her babies all the time. Wouldn't that be a riot? Seriously, though, if a mom finds that kind of parenting satisfying the more power to them. Of course, I still want to see one juggling 3 boys like mine. [Devilish laughter]
So, I'm feeling a little more refreshed and ready to face the night time madness (a/k/a bath and night-night time). Perhaps a nice cold brew might help take the edge off a little more then I'll be able to sit back (it's hard to do when they're climbing all over you but I mean this figuratively) and drink in the beauty (not the beer - I only want one) of my children who actually fill my soul when they're not ripping it to shreds.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
