making mom worry

My mom was the main reason that I started my blog. She was the "friend" who strong-armed me into it. She is also one of the people who reads it every day. And sometimes she notices a theme or gets a little bit concerned by the overall tone of my posts.
Take last week for example. It contained a failed diet, an admittance that I can't handle it when Caia is grumpy, a desire for doors with strong locks to hide behind, a call to poison control, and the realization that I'm a self-centered person, again. So I wasn't surprised when my mom called me on Friday afternoon and asked me how I was doing. I assured her that I was doing fine; a little frazzled at times but overall doing well.
It is nice to know that she is concerned for me. It is also nice to have a reminder that I can tend to focus on the negative and forget about the positive. Last week was rough, there's no doubt about it. But there were still good moments. It is so easy to overlook the small moments of laughter and love. They can get lost in the midst of temper tantrums and arguments. The crying and screaming can be so loud and overwhelming and long-lasting, while the "I love you's" are often whispered and the kisses are given in haste as they run off to do something else. And I think that I can sometimes focus too much energy on trying to move past the rough spots when instead I should be focusing on finding and holding onto the beautiful moments in the day.

Jane

I had a very nice conversation with Jane from poison control this morning. She assured me that the medicine my child drank was non-toxic and that I didn't need to worry. And then she took my name and told me to call back if there were any problems. That's what she said but I'm guessing they have a list somewhere of all the moms who call poison control and if you call so many times they send Child Services to your house. That's just my guess.
Do I even need to tell you which of my children thought it was a good idea to drink a 1/4 of a bottle of cough syrup? Especially if I say that I found that same child crouched in the bathroom sink this morning, water up to his ankles (he still had his socks on), with unopened Tylenol bottles floating next to him?
I had a long talk with both boys about how dangerous medicine is. I'm pretty sure they think I forbid them from doing things just because I can. Like I am secretly hiding from them how fun it is to juggle knives and pour gasoline on the lawn. I wish that they could see that I'm on their side, that my goal is to keep them from harm. I wish being a mom didn't feel so much like being a dictator at times. I wish all medicine tasted like sauerkraut and that everything dangerous looked really boring.

photo by: The Munger Mange  http://www.flickr.com/photos/matt_m/3307474499/

doors

You would think that after my grand revelation early Monday morning, I would be posting about how fantastic the past few days have been. I would write about how much fun we've had together and how I've discovered a whole new level of joy in motherhood. But this is reality and reality is messy and ugly and I'm smack dab in the middle of a whole bunch of ugly.
Today I've been daydreaming about doors. Big, solid doors with deadbolts that are too high up for anyone under 5' to reach. I need more doors in my life. Sometimes I just need somewhere to escape to.  There is a constant pull on me. I'm Mommy and therefore I am responsible for everything from putting on shoes to wiping heinies. And heaven forbid if I don't do something quickly enough. The words "in a minute" can throw my children into conniptions. That's right, conniptions. And I think about how long it took me to see my mom as a real person with her own needs and desires instead of as the person whose sole purpose in life was to take care of me and I want to curl up into the fetal position because I'm never going to make it.

photo by: .I travel East.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/i_travel_east/4106091666/

grumpy girl

Caia was grumpy yesterday. There wasn't a smile to greet me when I walked into her room to wake her up. She cried in her bouncy seat. She cried on her mat. She cried in her saucer. Basically, she just cried most of the day.
Actually, it wasn't that bad. I remember times with Jem when he would scream his head off because he was really tired and couldn't manage to get to sleep. Sam would put in earplugs and lay on our bed with him and just wait him out.
This was more of a general whininess all day. She is cutting some teeth which normally makes most babies fussy. But when Sam got home and asked how our day was, I told him that I didn't know what to do with Caia. I can't really handle her being grumpy. She is normally such a happy baby and I hadn't realized until yesterday how much I rely on that to get me through the day. Her contentedness allows me to give my focus to Jem and Tru. And her tendency to smile at me and get really super excited anytime I come near her is very much needed. The boys adore her and she is a wonderful balance to my frustration, Jem's whininess, and Tru's temper. I know it's a lot of pressure to put on a baby and I also know that she is going to hit the temper tantrum stage and the whiny stage and all of the other ones. But for now, she brings joy to our family and we are so grateful that God knew how much we needed a good dose of joy.

epic fail

I had a revelation this morning and it wasn't a pretty one. As I was getting ready for the day and thinking about what I could do with the kids to help the day go smoothly, I realized something. It seems that much more often than I would like, I still operate under the delusion that my time is my own and that I am at the center of my world. If I'm being 100% honest, I would have to say that my goal is to make my day convenient and enjoyable for me. And when that is my approach to my day, my children simply become an annoyance that gets in the way of my own convenience and enjoyment.
It is not convenient to get groceries with a four-year old who likes to jog down the aisles, asks you what everything is, and starts to whine half way through. It is not enjoyable to fold laundry at 8:30pm when you really just want to sit down and relax but if you fold it at any other time someone would be trying to dump the clothes out to hide in the basket while someone else tries to "help" fold and really just makes it all harder.
I am still clinging to this idea that I should get to do what I want with my time. That possibility started heading out the door eight years ago when I got married and once Jem came along it disappeared completely. My time isn't my own. I made a decision to fill my life with love. And more often than not, love comes with obligations. I am obligated to do life with Sam, to work out our differences, to celebrate our victories, to climb down in the trenches with him when he needs me. And I am obligated to take care of my children, to place their needs above my own. And because I love Sam and I love Jem, Truett and Caia, these obligations look more like privileges.
But sometimes, I still get stuck in "me land" and I forget that these  people are blessings in my life, not hindrances. And my revelation this morning was that I've been stuck in "me land" an awful lot lately. Trying to eke out every single second of me time that I possibly can instead of being present and being in the moment with my kids. That isn't who I want to be as a mom. I want to see my kids as adding to my day, adding to my life, not taking away from it.
It isn't easy to write this stuff; to admit that I'm so self-focused. But if I don't admit it, I can't possibly hope to change it. So here's to another failure! May it bring about good things.

photo by: Black Sheep of Omaha  http://www.flickr.com/photos/jimlambphotography/2735502982/

back to square one

So my Special K diet ends tomorrow. I did pretty well with sticking to the plan in spite of my very unhelpful husband. Every other night he was asking me if I wanted to run to Rita's for an italian ice or did I maybe want to head to the store and buy some chips and dip once the kids were in bed. How about a pizza at 9pm? To his credit he did buy low-fat ice cream so that I would be able to eat my teeny tiny half-cup serving while he dug into his four scoops.
I'm sure the part that you are all dying to know is: did it work? For an answer let me say that as I type this I am having a cup of coffee and chowing down on a big Greek pastry filled with almonds and honey and chocolate. This is not a celebratory snack. This is a I-just-weighed-myself-and-the-numbers-didn't-change-so-screw-you-special-k snack. And it's fantastic!

stranger danger

A few weeks ago, I decided that I should probably talk to my kids about strangers. We've already talked about how important it is for them to never leave the playground with anyone other than Mommy but we've never talked about strangers. It's a difficult topic. I don't want to make my kids paranoid but I also don't want them walking around thinking everyone out there is their friend.
First we talked about what a stranger is. Then I asked them what they would do if someone they didn't know, a stranger, came up to them and said, "Come with me and I'll give you some candy." Their immediate response was, "Candy?! We love candy!" And that's when I knew that this talk was overdue.
So I told them that there are some people out there who might want to hurt them. Jem asked if I meant that people would want to hit and kick them or call them names. I told him that it would be like that and maybe worse. I said that they should never, ever go with anyone that they don't know. I told them that if someone they don't know offers them candy they should run away and come find me and tell me right away.
Afterwards, I wasn't sure how much of it they understood or even remembered. But just this morning, while driving in the car, Truett said, "Mommy, are those strangers?" He was pointing at some construction workers. I asked him if we knew them and he said no. I said that meant that they were strangers. He then said in a gruff sort of voice, "And they will say, 'Hey little boy. I have candy and sugar. Come with me.' And we will run away and tell you Mommy."
So I guess it stuck. Now if someone offered him a chance to ride a motorcycle all bets would be off.

photo by: MeghanTraynor  http://www.flickr.com/photos/meghant/4400066508/