Wednesday morning as we drove to my women's group at church, Truett was drawing on our magna doodle. When I went to get him out I saw his picture and asked him what he had drawn. He said it was a crocodile monster.
And a few weeks ago he drew a dinosaur.
I know this seems like I'm bragging about my kid and that's because I am. I mean, come on! He's three! I can't even draw like that. Besides, I figure it just helps to combat all of the times I write about the ways he frustrates and challenges me. Plus, only a handful of people are going to read this and they are mostly related to me so they don't really mind.
Yesterday was Caia's four month check-up. She will actually be five months old in four days. I am almost always behind on scheduling doctors appointments. Anyway, the doctor weighed her three times, twice on two separate digital scales and once on a manual scale while a nurse held her. Turns out she hasn't gained any weight since her two month check-up. In fact, she actually dropped a pound and is only one ounce heavier than she was at her one month appointment.
Thankfully, the doctor didn't seem concerned. She kept squeezing Caia's chubby thighs and mumbling, "She sure doesn't look like she only weighs 13 pounds." I took that as a good sign.
It basically boils down to the fact that my milk isn't cutting it. Either she isn't getting enough or the quality just isn't up to par. So I have to start supplementing with formula and start her on solids right away.
I really don't mind. It feels a little bit rushed since I breastfed both boys until they decided to stop at nine months, and I didn't start them on food until they were six months. But I don't think that I will miss the breastfeeding. I'm not enchanted by it like some moms that I know. I never really saw it as a beautiful bonding time with my baby. It was more like a jail sentence. This thing that only I could do for my child meaning that I could never get a break. So I won't necessarily be upset when she has weaned herself completely.
There is one thing that will be difficult. Right now, whenever she sees me, my little girl breaks out a fantastic smile. She is in love with me and the feeling is mutual. But soon, that smile will be bestowed on my new frenemy, her bottle. I will be displaced in her affections by powdered formula and a rubber nipple. It's a sad way to go.
There are days when my little dragons hiss and spit at me and I respond by unleashing my own dragon. It starts with a curl of smoke coming from my nostrils. Then a flash of my sharp teeth and claws followed by a quick snap. And if I'm not able to rein it in, it becomes an all out fire-breathing extravaganza.
I wish that I could say that I manuever through my days with maturity and grace. That I always respond to my children with love and gentleness. Sometimes I do okay and sometimes I fail miserably. Sometimes I want to give up and hide in a closet for a few hours. But they would find me. They always find me. So I will continue to stumble through, doing my best to keep my own dragon under control so that I am able to help them deal with theirs.
photo by gd427driver
http://www.flickr.com/photos/gd427driver/3156345314/
Sam and I have been talking about moving. We live in the city and we would like to move somewhere with a little more outside space for the boys. Oh, and by city I'm not talking like New York or Philadelphia. We just live in the tiny urban area of our county which has its good points and its bad ones.
We've gone to see a few homes and have found one that we are thinking of making an offer on. During this process, Sam has been asking the boys if they would like a new house. Truett was all for it and began to cry when he realized that Daddy didn't actually have a new house to take him to. Jem was interested as well but had a few questions.
Jem: Are we going to the new house today?
Me: No buddy. We don't have a new house yet. Did you know that this new house is built near the woods?
Jem: Why? (yep, there it is, the dreaded "why")
Me: I don't know. It just is.
Jem: Will it have a kitchen area?
Me: Yep and a special room just for your toys.
Jem: What kind of toys will it have?
Me: Buddy, houses don't come with toys.
Jem: Yes they do Mommy. I've been to houses and they have toys in them.Me: Honey, we have to take our own toys to the new house. It won't have any toys.
Jem: Oh.
photo by Faiz
http://www.flickr.com/photos/faizzaki/3597405086/
This journey of motherhood is hard. Like super hard. Yes, there are beautiful moments but there are also those moments like tonight when I swept a wooden yo-yo off of the dining room table because I was so sick of finding it everywhere except where it belongs. And moments like those make me even more thankful that I have been blessed with friends who are on the same journey with me.
My one friend, whom I have known since I was 15 or 16, has three boys. Her oldest is about 6 months older than Jem. Her second boy is about 8 weeks younger than Tru and her third boy is about 7 months older than Caia. We have been in step pretty much the entire time. And it has been such a help. We get together and try to have grown-up conversations while encouraging our boys to play nicely. We have commiserated on sleepless nights, teething and the pain of breastfeeding. We laugh and groan over how alike our second children are as they scream at each other and pitch fits. We encourage each other simply by admitting that, "yes, I have lost my temper."
I have other friends who have kids slightly older than mine. I am able to watch them and see what behaviors might be coming, like talking back. And I can see how they handle it and learn from them. I can talk to them about my current struggles and they can assure me that it will change, that they won't always behave like preschoolers.
I have friends who are just starting out on their parenting journey. And for once, I'm able to offer up a little bit of encouragement.
That is one of the reasons I wanted to do this blog. I think that most moms really just want to know that someone else is having the same struggles. I remember waking up at 2am to breastfeed Jem and sitting in the dark nursery alone. I would cry (stupid hormones) because I felt so alone and overwhelmed and tired. And it helped to know that my friends understood that feeling. It helps to know that I am not the only one who gets frustrated with my children. It helps to have someone to talk to and bounce ideas off of. There isn't an instuction manuel for these little people and we've never done this before so asking for help seems necessary and good.
So this one is for my homies. My fellow moms who have helped me, encouraged me, made me laugh and given me hope. Thanks ladies!
Truett is in this stage right now where he goes from zero to sixty in one second. If I'm buckling him into his car seat and he decides that he wants the doodle to draw on he immediately goes full tilt. He doesn't even bother to ask if he can have it. He just screams and cries. And I'm talking veins popping out on his forehead and tendons sticking out on his neck. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell him that he will not get anything by yelling at me or reminding him of how he should ask for things. It's like there isn't an in between with him. It is either docile child or screaming banshee. I do my best to meet his impatience with calm reminders that he isn't to speak to me that way or asking him to try again. But there are times when it just seems like I've spent my entire day trying to diffuse my three-year old and I'm not sure that I can handle one more emotional explosion. Thankfully, that is usually around the time that Sam gets home from work and I'm able to walk away from the crying and yelling.
This wasn't something that I had to deal with from Jem. But they are two very different boys. Tru has a lot of passion and right now it is coming out in mostly negative ways. Someday, that passion will be a wonderful thing if I can keep my head on straight and continue to teach him how to channel it.
Growing up my dad did all of the grocery shopping. In fact, he still does the grocery shopping. He is one of the only men I know who can be trusted to actually stick to the list and not come home with donuts, chips and some random type of meat. Of course, if there is a sale on ice cream then all bets are off, but for the most part, he goes in and gets what my mom has asked for.
When I was little, I would go with him to the store. It was our fun father/daughter time. I felt so grown up and helpful and I loved having my dad's attention all to myself.
I'm not sure what happened but at some point I began to really dislike going to the grocery store. It became this huge time-sucking place that attracts the slow and the oblivious like moths to a flame. I'm all for taking your time and enjoying life. But I admit that I get peeved off when I get stuck behind someone who is shuffling through the grocery store and counting out change from their embroidered coin purse.
And I definitely have an issue with the oblivious people. You know who I am talking about. The ones who park their cart in the middle of the aisle and then wander off to look at something ten feet away. A few weeks ago the woman in front of me struck up a conversation with the cashier. No problem. Except that she continued the conversation after she had already paid for and bagged her groceries. Did I mention that she was still standing in the middle of the lane? My groceries were already headed down the little conveyor belt and I couldn't even push my cart through. I said, "Excuse me please." And she looked at me and said, "Oh, did you want me to move." I replied, "That would be nice." And she huffed off. All she had to do was move out of the check-out lane and continue her conversation there.
The grocery store brings out my ugly side. The side that is impatient and judgemental. I don't want to give grace to the lady with her cart blocking the entire soup section. I don't want to wait behind the mom who is letting her child count the number of marshmallows on the Lucky Charms box. I just want to get my stupid groceries and go home.
In case you were wondering, I just got home from the grocery store before I started writing this post. I apologize for the ugliness but I promised to be honest and this is honest. This is me being ugly and small. It happens and I'm learning to notice it in the hopes that I will, one day, be able to change it. Today is not that day.
