Category: Motherhood

Their Touchstone

Posted on by Amy

Most days, I juggle spending time playing with my girls with all sorts of other daily stuff-I-have-to-do, like folding laundry, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, showering, and so on. It’s just the nature of being a mom. I’d like to spend tons and tons of time just playing with my kids. But I have to get other stuff done. So I alternate playing and doing something on my never ending mental to-do list. They play on their own. They’re pretty good at it. I think it’s a good thing.

But even though they’re good at entertaining each other and themselves, I do love to get down on the floor and just play with them without distractions. I do this at least for a little while every day. Today I made a point of skipping the laundry and other stuff and just being with them. We played dress up and sang songs.  I was alternately assigned the roles of Beast, Evil Queen, Happy (dwarf), a giant, Snow White’s mother (?), Prince Charming, and Gaston.

And just when I thought I was being Super Awesome Mom and we were having the best. time. ever., Miss asked, “Is anyone coming over to play with us?” She was referring to a babysitter. I told her that no one was, that I was staying and playing with them.

“But I want someone to come play with us.”

Huh? I’m your Mom and I’m here, laughing and tickling and being silly and wearing crazy hats and playing all these stupid characters and you want a babysitter?

Yeah. Okay. I love that my girls like their babysitters. That’s a good thing. But when it comes to this sort of stuff, being compared with babysitters, Mom kind of gets a raw deal. I mean, let’s face it, I just can’t compete with someone who gets paid to do nothing but lavish all her attention and energy on my kids for the entire time she’s with them. She doesn’t have to do laundry, make beds, vacuum floors, make grocery lists, and on and on while trying to attend to my three kids. And while I’m pouting about this, I can’t compete with my husband on this stuff either. But that’s mostly just because he is totally willing to play monster and chase and hide and seek all. evening. long. with my two older girls. And truth? I really don’t like playing chase and hide and seek, so I’m giving that one up to him. But still …

Watching the game!

I know. There are lots of times when my kids want only me.  When they’re sick, or hurt, or scared, or tired. Or nervous, or excited, or proud. If I’m on the phone or trying to have a discussion with another mom at a play date. They want me when there’s a book to be read or a song to be sung. No one can tuck them in quite like me (though Miss chose to have my mom tuck her in every night when my parents visited recently).

I had to take the girls to the doctor today, because Miss had an ear infection. Third trip to the doctor in four days.

Sometimes other people, like Daddy, grandparents, and babysitters, are popular with my kids because they can provide them with undivided attention for extended periods of time. I do it sometimes too of course, though not as much as I’d like. Even when I make a point to just play, things don’t always work out the way I plan (today was a day for just playing, but then Miss complained of ear pain so we had to go to the doctor and then to Target for a prescription).

As Mom, I often have to divide my attention between my three girls or between my girls and the myriad other things I have to do each day. They are often excited to have a babysitter to play with them. They’re always excited for grandparents and their Dad.

It never bothers me that they love being with other people. I think it’s great. And it truly doesn’t bother me that they sometimes choose other people over me (though I was kind of shocked today to be dissed while I was doing what I thought was some super awesome playing with them).

Thing is, it’s not a competition. No one else can be their Mom. No one else will ever fill that role for them but me. And if they’re secure in that, then they’ll be happy to have great relationships with the other special people in their lives. They have awesome relationships with their Daddy and grandparents and aunts and uncles. And yes, clearly they enjoy their babysitters. Each of these relationships is special and important for each of my girls.

I don’t give my girls undivided attention all day long. I don’t think any mom does. It would be weird and helicopter-ish if I did. Instead, I spend some time giving them focused attention and the rest of the time they have me here, nearby, all day every day as their sounding board. Their touchstone. When they run to me or call to me countless times each day, I’m always here to answer, to listen, to watch.

They know that I’m always here, and that I always will be. Even when they choose the babysitter (or Grandma or Daddy) over me.

How Do You Talk About Death With a Three Year Old?

Posted on by Amy

Today my big girl asked me some heavy questions.

She always knows how to keep me on my toes.  She challenges me, this one does.  She likes to think and figure things out. She asks lots of questions.

Today her questions were about death. Gulp.

We’ve had some discussion about death before. One of our dogs died last June and we talked about it then. My husband’s grandmother passed away this past June, and we talked about it more.

Today for some reason she got really curious about death and asked some very difficult questions for a mother of a three year old to answer.

Questions like, “Mama, are you gonna die some day?”

My heart broke a little bit as I made a split second decision to be honest instead of glossing over or not really answering her question (she doesn’t fall for it when I do that anyway). So I answered her calmly (as my heart was pounding and my brain was silently screaming at me, “Don’t screw this up!”), “Yes, Honey, someday. Everyone dies someday, and that’s okay.  It’s just part of life.”

And then her little lip started to quiver. Tears formed in her eyes. I started to feel panicky. How could I answer her questions so she wouldn’t be fearful? How could I be honest and yet let her know that she didn’t have to worry about death? How did I get into this conversation?

Her next question was like a sledgehammer to my chest. With shaky voice, “But Mama, if you die, who will be my mommy?”

I tried to explain very calmly that I would always be her mommy and that hopefully I would not die for a very, very long time, and that she didn’t need to worry about me dying.

She was still worried. The next question?

“Mama, am I gonna die some day?”

Oh no. Well, I was going for honesty. So I told her that yes she would, someday. But not for a long, long time. She was upset and said that if she died she would be sad to not be able to play with her toys. I don’t know how I managed to keep from dissolving into tears at this point, but I didn’t.

Through all of this, I was so worried that I was screwing it all up and that she was going to have nightmares and be fearful from now on that everyone around her was going to die any moment. She asked me if her Grandma would die, and our remaining dog (who is quite ill), and my Grandpa (who is 94 and on her mind because we just sent him a care package).

I think she was trying to figure out people’s level of oldness with all these questions. See, to this point we have discussed death as something that happens when people or pets get very old.  When our dog died, she was very old but she also had cancer. I didn’t want Miss to be worried every time she got sick, so I explained that our dog died because she was old. Same for my husband’s grandmother, who was 92 when she passed away. I’m not ready to get into the subjects of sicknesses and accidents that can cause death before old age. I don’t think she’s ready for that either. So today I stuck with death happens when you’re old.

Not completely honest, but enough for a three year old on a topic like this.

Honestly, I don’t know if I handled this conversation correctly. I tried to answer her matter-of-factly and give lots of hugs and tell her she does not need to worry about dying right now. During the entire conversation I was trying to change the diaper of a squirmy baby and navigate errant dance moves and ninja kicks from Lass, so I might not have been as focused and eloquent as I would have liked to be for a conversation of this magnitude.

But I think it turned out okay. After asking lots of questions, my precious, spunky, oldest daughter abruptly picked up on something her sister was pretending regarding being Rapunzel and did an about-face to start pretending to be Mother Gothel (I was Flynn Rider). I was a bit shocked and had a brief urge to ask, “Is that it? Are we done with all that death talk for now? You’re not scarred for life or anything, right?”

Instead I jumped into character and began playing Flynn Rider with gusto. My girl seems fine. Phew.

Reset Button

Posted on by Amy

My husband has been gone for the past 10 days elk hunting in Colorado.  My parents left this morning after visiting with the girls and me for a week to help out while he’s been gone.  Their visit was all part of the plan for my husband’s trip, and I am so glad they were able to come.  Of course I would have been able to manage if they hadn’t (I’m obviously not the first woman to have to care for children by myself for a while),  but it sure did help that they were here.  Especially since I was so out of sorts last weekend.  Last week I was having a rough time getting in my groove.  My parents’ arrival was like hitting the “reset” button.

I think we all sometimes just need to hit reset.

When you’re a mom, sometimes the stuff just kind of piles on, and no matter how much or how fast you dig, you end up feeling a bit buried.  Last week, I was feeling it up to my neck.  And it wasn’t just because my husband had been working nights and then left town.  That was only part of it.  When you’re home with small children all day every day, stuff just gets to you some days.

Fact is, being a stay-at-home mom is sometimes a lonely job. I love it, but it just is.  That’s why I talk to my husband or chat with friends.  Have play dates or go to Target.  I love my girls fiercely, but naturally, interactions with them happen on their level.  They do talk a lot.  I mean, a lot.  And I love talking to them.  I love hearing how their little minds work and the questions they come up with.  But good lord, the questions!  Sometimes they can overwhelm.  A good friend described it well when she said that a mother of several small children hardly ever gets a chance for her mind to be quiet.  Which is all fine, except sometimes I like to have time for my mind to be quiet.  I like to have time to think and reflect and also to talk with other valued grown ups.  Failing that, I’ll make a run to Target, where at least I can see a few random grown ups, and have a short interaction with the check out girl, and hopefully the change of scenery keeps my girls occupied enough to keep them from grabbing and scratching and pinching each other for 15 minutes. …

My point is, in all the noise, it’s okay to lose it sometimes.  Hit reset.  Move on.

This week, I’m good.  I’m back to me.  As in Mom-who-has-her-shit-mostly-in-a-pile-instead-of-raining-down-on-her me.

In spite of my sometimes insanity, I love being a stay at home mom.  I don’t want my life to be any other way.  My life’s work is right here, in progress.

I just had a great visit with my parents.

And my best friend is coming home tonight.

Life is so good.

Running On Empty

Posted on by Amy

I’m staring at the screen tonight, not really sure how to write what I want to write.

I guess I’m not entirely sure what it is I even want to say, so I’m just going free form here, and hopefully something coherent will emerge.

The past week has been a rough one for me.  I’m far from the perfect mom, but there have been moments this past week that I’ve struggled to even feel competent.  I mentioned that I don’t much enjoy the weeks when my husband works nights.  I have less back up and less time with him.  Plus I think my girls miss their time with him, so they end up being less easygoing as well.  I don’t have family nearby, so when circumstances align so that my husband’s availability is limited, my sleep is less than optimal, and my older girls are listening to me about as well as my dog (who’s deaf) does,  I end up feeling very cranky and impatient.  Adrift and lonely.

I have to take more deep breaths.  I have to tell myself to chill out.  I have to get creative to keep everyone mostly sane.  I sometimes have to apologize to my kids for being a big jerk.  I pay a babysitter to get an hour of uninterrupted time by myself.  I count the minutes until a play date with a cherished friend, whom I don’t get to see often enough now that summer is over.  I keep telling myself, “The reinforcements are coming.  And it’s gonna be good!”  And it will.

My parents are coming tomorrow to help out while my husband is out of town for the next ten days.  Hallelujah.  We are thrilled to have Grandma and Grandpa coming.

Because Grandma does much better than throwing a bunch of crap on the table and calling it “craft time.”

Because Grandpa and I can put together something much better for dinner than a PB&J  picnic/movie night.

Because I’ll pull myself out of this funk and get my mommy-groove back.

I’m not really sure what has had me so out of sorts this past week. Yes, I have missed my husband (still do), but that’s not all.  I’m tired, lonely, and feeling frayed.  I suppose all moms have times like these.  Hell, I sure hope I’m not the only one!

My reinforcements are coming.  I’m running on fumes, but soon my tank will be full again.

 

Motherhood is a Profession

Posted on by Amy

I’ve been struggling lately with a big issue.  Since shortly after Miss was born, I have worked as a forensic psychological consultant.  I have considered myself to be incredibly lucky to have secured this position.  Basically, I’m a small business owner.  I do consulting work for a company that has a contract to perform competency to stand trial evaluations. I get referrals from this company.  I set up an appointment at my convenience to go to the jail and complete the evaluation.  It only takes a couple of hours.  Then I write my report from home, usually during nap time or after the girls have gone to bed.  Occasionally I have to testify in a case (this is my favorite part).  It always seemed so perfect, because I never worked a ton.  Maybe one or two, sometimes three evaluations per month.  I could stay home essentially full time with my kids and still get an opportunity to do some of the work I spent so many years in school to be qualified to do.

For a little while before and a few months after Sis was born I took a self-determined maternity leave.  Now that I am back to working, my work load has drastically increased, and I’m getting lots of cases in other counties.  In the past month or so I’ve done seven evaluations in jails that are at least an hour drive away.  This has led to lots of time away from my girls.

Last Tuesday I didn’t get home until 6:30.  I had spent most of the morning working on reports and then had a long drive for a long evaluation.  On the way home I had this awful pit in my stomach, knowing that I would miss dinner and not have much time with the girls before bed time.  I had to watch my speedometer very carefully during the hour-and-a-half-long drive home that evening.  My mind and heart were protesting being away from my little girls and aching to get home, and my body was responding, pretty much involuntarily, with my foot repeatedly pressing down harder on my accelerator.

I got home and felt like I had barely seen my girls all day.  It was awful.

I did let Miss stay up a little bit late to watch Olympic gymnastics that night.

But I still felt like crap at the end of that day.

So.  Here I am tonight, having just finished up and sent off another report (my third this weekend).  I haven’t done a blog post in a week.  Because I’ve been spending pretty much every nap time and bed time working.  And I don’t really even enjoy the work anymore.  Work is no longer what’s important to me.

I used to find psychology to be so fascinating and I loved the challenges that my job presents.  Now?  Meh.  Psychology and evaluating criminals is no longer what I find fascinating.  This is:

Being a psychologist is part of my identity, and has been for almost ten years.  But.  Though it is a newer facet of my identity, being a mom way trumps being a psychologist.  Way.

A few weeks ago I seriously started to consider leaving my consultant position.  I felt very guilty about it.  Some of my guilty thoughts:

But I spent so many years training to be a psychologist.

But I used to love my job.

But I should feel so fortunate to have a position like this.

I thought about how I would feel to not be a psychologist anymore.  I wondered if I would feel sad.  Or lost.  Or, somehow, less.  I knew I was not happy spending so much time away from my girls these past few months, but I kept thinking I should ride it out.  I shouldn’t give up this amazing work opportunity.  I should keep this job so I can maintain my professional skills.

Then Tuesday happened and I was sick with missing my kids and I thought, “For what?”  All these shoulds, and no real good reason for them.  I once thought I needed to keep my skills so that I can go back to working more when my kids are in school.  Except I’m going to homeschool them.  

So I came up with a few more shoulds that make more sense to me.

I should take advantage of the opportunity I have to stay home with my girls and be present and happy with them.

I should remember that being a mom is a full time job, and it’s okay to have only one of those.

I should soak in all the wonderfulness that is these little beings that I am privileged to call mine.

I should take back nap time and bed time.  Seriously.  Any mama of preschoolers/toddlers/babies knows that you can’t give up all of these for long without going totally nuts.

Yes, I should.  So I’m going to.  After much discussion with my husband, my mom, and a good friend, I’ve decided I am going to leave my job.  Right now my priority is my family.  A little bit of work now and then was okay.  A lot of work is not (and in case you’re wondering, I have basically been told that I cannot decline referrals unless I’m out of town).  I am going to stop worrying about going to work and focus on doing the work of raising my kids.  I might be a little sad to not have my professional identity anymore.  But I have other things I’m going to focus on in my free time (more on that later).  And I’ll still technically be a psychologist.  I’ll always keep my license current.  Nothing says that I can’t go back to it someday if I want to.

The bottom line is this: I am a mom and my profession is Motherhood.  I prefer the title of “Mama” to “Dr.” any day.

Out in the World

Posted on by Amy

Sometimes I wish I could just keep my little girls sheltered and safe in our little house, protected from all potentially dangerous or otherwise undesirable things out there.  I mean, do I really have to let them see odd people, walk near swimming pools, and observe annoying behaviors in others that I’d rather they not learn?  Helicopter anyone?  No?

Miss started real swimming lessons this summer.  I know I can’t always keep her perfectly safe, but at least I can make sure that she learns to swim so she can be safer around water.  Last summer we did one short session of a swimming class that I did with her.  She learned waaay more this time.

She didn’t like it at first.  She would cry at the start of her classes, and hated getting her face wet.   

Once she got warmed up in class, she was cool as long as she didn’t have to go under the water.  She got real nervous when she knew they were at the part of class where she had to jump in and go underwater.

But she did it.  Every time.

She did it on her own and she was so proud as she gained confidence and began to realize it really wasn’t a big deal.

I love how confident and strong she looks in the photo below.  She’s about to dive in and she isn’t afraid at all.

She’s learning to swim.

As much as I sometimes wish I could shelter her from everything, I know that I can’t and I shouldn’t.  It’s so special for her to have these experiences of competence and achievement.  She hasn’t graduated to the next class yet, but after six weeks of swimming lessons twice a week, she has improved so much and gained so much confidence.  She doesn’t cry when her class starts anymore.  She barely flinches when she has to go under water.  She’s getting it and I get to watch and smile and feel my momma heart swell (and ache just a tiny bit because she’s growing up).

And speaking of growing up, my big girl and I had a date yesterday to a movie.  It was her first experience in the movie theater.  At first she was bummed that her sisters couldn’t come with us, until I told her that the movie theater is just for big girls.  Then her face lit up and she said, “Like me!”

It was fun to watch her experience something so new and slightly overwhelming.  She held my hand tightly in the lobby where all the people were milling about getting popcorn.  She covered her eyes and cowered toward me when one of the trailers was slightly scary.  Mostly, I think she enjoyed feeling like a special big girl.  I got her popcorn and she shared it with me.  She was awed by the size of the “TV” and how loud it was.

I found myself loving the experience with her and also cringing at some of the content of the movie.  It was Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked.  Not an offensive movie in any big way.  It wasn’t scary at all.  But I’m pretty picky when it comes to movies for my kids.  Most of the Disney movies are okay, but even those almost always have some pretty scary parts and sometimes less than desirable content.  I hate it every time I hear Grumpy tell Doc to “Awww, shut up!”  I also don’t love the way most of the princesses are portrayed as pretty helpless.  And I don’t love the drunk scene in Dumbo either. I could go on.  This Chipmunk movie wasn’t too bad, but it had a few parts that bothered me.  I didn’t like all the references to Theodore (and Eleanor of “The Chipettes”) as “The chubby one” and the oddly suggestive dance moves of the female chipmunks.  Perhaps (probably) I’m a big prude.  Maybe I’m overly sensitive.  I just wish there were kids movies that didn’t have objectionable content.

But when I get too uptight thinking about how I exposed my child to such movie content, I just try to remind myself that my girls will see a lot worse in the world around them as they grow.  And the fact is that I do monitor what they are exposed to right now, so when the occasional unpleasant content comes up, I can look at it as an opportunity to teach my girls about being appropriate, kind, strong, etc.  I have to think of it that way, because otherwise we would never get out and experience life in this big world.  I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to go to a movie with my girl because of fear that there might be something undesirable in the movie.  I do my best to make good selections for them now, knowing that I can’t protect them from everything.  I just have to do my best to protect them from the big things, prepare them for the unexpected, and teach them to make good choices in all the other stuff.

P.S. How do you like the new blog??  It’s still a bit of a work in progress, but it’s getting there!

Pretending

Posted on by Amy
I love to watch my girls pretend.  Their little imaginations are so funny and amazing and beautiful.  They take their favorite parts of their favorite stories and mix them all up to make a whole new story.  They play off of each other and come up with entirely new scenarios.  I can’t get enough of it.  

It helps that recently I scored a few great dress-up bargains for them.  Our at-home dress up was kind of pitiful, so I found one princess dress at an online consignment shop (with a 40% off coupon too!), got a bag full of three other outfits plus jewelry from Craigslist for cheap, pulled out an old flower girl dress, and presto!  We have dress up.

True to their personalities, Miss changes from one outfit to another, depending on what she’s doing.

While Lass finds one outfit and stays with it.  She may change her accessories, but she’s not giving up that green Tinkerbell outfit, which she calls her “fit” (outfit).  She puts it on and beams, “I Wedda!” (I’m Cinderella!)

They try to dress up Sis too so she won’t feel left out.

We have been tea-partying like crazy here.  Miss always insists on putting on the purple dress for the tea parties.

We have lots of “Cheers!” and pinkies out and all that.

Sis is loving her Bumbo, which allows her to be part of the action.

I love to see how the girls interpret the stories they read and see in videos.  At one point Miss was pretending that the Evil Queen had stolen Snow White’s voice (like Ursula does to Ariel).  She has started having lots of fun with trying to get us to read her lips.  Today at lunch she said, “Momma, do you know what I’m saying?” and she kept mouthing the same thing over and over, in a really exaggerated way.  I really tried, but I had no idea what it was.  Finally she sighed and said, “Mom, I was saying ‘Casey Jones’!!” As in the train from the Dumbo book.  Oh.  Duh.

They love to have me be the Evil Queen and act out the poisoned apple scene.  Here they were running away from me as Evil Queen.

I “convinced” Miss to taste the poisoned apple.

She fell dramatically to the floor.

Then she called to her sister, “Come on and kiss me so I can wake up!”

They did this over and over.  They make me laugh.

Of course, we don’t only play Princess.  We play Chef and Mommy and today they were Doctors.

Lass loves to hold the play stethoscope up to my leg (or arm or nose) and say, “Momma you sick!”

I laugh a lot these days.

Reload

Posted on by Amy

As I’m adjusting to life as a mommy of three, I am finding I have not been blogging as much as I’d like. I intend to get better about this.  But in the meantime, I might “reload” a old favorite post here and there just to keep from going too long without posting.  Here’s an oldie but a goodie from the first days of Miss’s potty training.  I still cringe a bit when I read this one…
*******
When I started as a prison psychologist, I had to go to the same two-week training that the federal government makes all correctional workers go through. Among other things, I learned self defense, spent a lot of time on the firing range, had physical fitness tests, and learned lots about how to prevent and handle a “major disturbance,” which is prison staff lingo for a riot. I remember one instructor saying something like, “We have the control in our institutions because the inmates let us have control. There are way more of them than us, and they could take control at any time. We will always get it back, but don’t forget that they could take it.” I heard this idea several times in various trainings I went to over the years. I think the purpose of saying this was to stress to us that our control was fragile and we needed to exert it with respect, lest our residents decide they weren’t gonna take it anymore.
Fast forward seven-ish years to a day in the life of me, The Mom, the one with the “control,” and Miss, The Toddler, the one who generally goes along and lets me have control because life flows better that way. The one who decided yesterday that she wasn’t gonna take it anymore and went into all out riot mode. Yes folks. My 2’7″, 26-pound 2 year old brought me to my knees yesterday.
Remember my post from the other day when I said potty training was going so well? Remember how I said I firmly believe you can’t force a child to go to the bathroom? Well. My daughter firmly proved me right yesterday. And I never even tried to force her to go to the bathroom. I just tried to get her to not go on the floor. Or on her little chair in her room. Or on the couch. Yesterday was not my best day as Mommy, and Miss decided to seize control of things by controlling what she could – her bladder. Yes, potty training worked very well. Miss does know when she has to go and she is able to tell me. She had been doing this very well all week. One thing she had not been doing at all was napping. So after five days without a nap, we were both tired and a bit frayed. She had an accident yesterday because she did not tell me she had to go. Throughout the entire training process up to that point I had been super positive and upbeat, even with accidents. “Next time just make sure you tell Mommy when you have to go so we can keep those underwear dry, okay?” Well, yesterday I had a not-so-wonderful Mommy Moment and I scolded her for her accident. Nothing too awful, but I definitely used a stern voice and told her that she was supposed to tell me when she had to go and not pee-pee on the floor. I think I gave an exasperated sigh or two. I did manage to regroup fairly quickly and then in my more upbeat voice repeat the usual reminder to tell me when she has to go the next time. But apparently she was not all that forgiving of my moment of testiness. From that point forward, she was in control and letting me know it. She refused to go to the bathroom when I took her in to let her try. I never pushed the issue, but did try to get her to go a few times in an attempt to stop the madness that had begun. She wouldn’t even sit when I’d take her into the bathroom, but then would go moments later in a less favorable spot. She wasn’t giving an inch. Suffice it to say, she had many accidents throughout the afternoon. I was trying so hard not to get into a power struggle with her, which was ironic, given that I had absolutely no power with this issue at all.



Things did improve somewhat right before bed, but by that time I was a wreck. I was berating myself for being the most horrible mother ever, and thinking I had ruined all the hard work we had done on the potty training by scolding her and that I had perhaps scarred her for life as all sorts of Freudian theories came to mind. And yes, this is a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. Just ask my mom, who I called near tears while chugging a glass of wine within minutes of putting Miss to bed. Or my husband who wasn’t able to get home until late last night and came in to find me grumpy and tearful and asking him to go get me ice cream (he did).
Of course, at the end of the day, when your toddler takes you down, you just have to get back up. By the time I went to bed, with the help of my husband, my mom, some wine, and some ice cream, I was feeling much better. I went to bed hopeful that yesterday would just be a bump in the road and that today would be a huge improvement. And of course it was. Miss had only one accident. She was happy to go on her potty and glowed at the praise she received. I was going to leave her with our babysitter so I could go grocery shopping this afternoon. I desperately needed to get some groceries and had wanted to go yesterday after her non-nap, but she refused to go to the bathroom, and I wasn’t willing to take her out in public with a full bladder with the way things were going yesterday. So today I thought I’d just avoid any problems and let her stay with our babysitter, whom she loves. But as I was getting ready to go she said, “I want to go store too. Pwease Mommy. I not get my pants all wet.” Well, that just melted my heart and so of course I let her come along. We had a great time. And when we got back, wonder of wonders, Miss finally took a nap! Oh halle-freaking-lujiah!!! All the world looks so much brighter on this side of a nap.



There are days when being a Mom just kicks the crap out of you. I really believe that there isn’t any more important job. Therefore, when things don’t go right, when I screw up, my feelings of inadequacy and guilt are greatly magnified. I question myself and feel like a failure. No one can make a mother of a two-year-old feel more impotent than that two-year-old. But amazingly, even when she is being a stinker and I’m at the end of my rope, the girl is sweet and loving and brightens my world. Just when I feel like I want to go crawl under my covers and stay there, she will say something like this comment from yesterday, “Lass so sweet, Lass so cute,” and then when I ask her if she’s cute say, “No, I not cute. I pwetty.” My girls make me laugh. They make me smile. They make my heart swell until it feels like it’s going to burst. Sometimes they make me want to pull my hair out. Always they make me want to be a better Mom. Even yesterday. Hell, especially yesterday! I’m not perfect, and sometimes I totally suck at this Mom thing, but in the words of that instructor, I “always get it back.” I guess that’s just what moms do. We do our best for our kids and sometimes we totally lose it. But we always get it back. 
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I hope to be back soon with a fresh post and some new photos!

What Do I Do All Day Anyway?

Posted on by Amy
If you aren’t or have never been a stay-at-home mom (or dad), you might wonder what someone does who stays home with her kids all day.  I know I did before becoming a full-time mom myself.  I didn’t wonder about this in a malicious way, in a “what the H-E-double-hockey-stick-does-she-do-all-day?” kind of way.  I just wondered.
Well.  Now I know.  So, what do I do all day?  Here’s an idea:
I create mountains with couch cushions.  I encourage.  I insist “you can do it.”  I cheer for accomplishments.  I help when necessary.
I do laundry.
 
 

I have tea parties.  I color.  I read aloud.

I ask, “What color is this?”  “What does (fill in this blank with some animal) say?” “What sound does (fill in this blank with some letter) make?” “What do you think about that?”  All. day. long.

I sing songs.  I sound out words.  I count everything out loud.

I answer “Why?”  and “Why?” and “Why?”

I watch.  I praise.  I watch again.  And again.  And again.  I teach.  I spot.

I kiss boo boos.  I teach manners.  And responsibility.  And problem solving.  And everything.

I discourage whining.  I try to reinforce more effective ways of communicating.  I try to teach my girls to be strong and direct.

I do laundry.

I referee fights over who gets to wear which headband.  Over who gets the little Cinderella doll (or “Wedda” as Lass calls her).  Over who gets to hold Baby Sis first.

I change diapers.  I wash diapers.  I fold diapers.

I nurse a newborn. I take forever to get out of the house.

I cook.  I clean up.  I cook.  I clean up.

I wipe mouths and noses and counters and hands and tables and rear ends.

I give baths.  I comb hair that is like silk.  I fix pony tails.  I say “You’re beautiful.”  “You’re smart.” “You’re strong.”  “You’re funny.”

I do laundry.

I help to outfit Super Heros.

Daddy helps them to fly.

 

I do more laundry.

I give lots of hugs.  And kisses.  I snuggle.  I tickle.

Sometimes I just sit.  And watch.  And I’m thankful that I am fortunate enough to be able to do all of these things and so much more.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Pigtails and Stuff

Posted on by Amy
I got both of my girls to wear pigtails in their hair for a brief time yesterday.  Miss usually won’t let me do anything with her hair except a ponytail, but when I put Lass’s hair in pigtails yesterday, she was suddenly interested.  I just had to get a photo of the two of them together.

Preferably with both of them looking at the camera…

I love Miss’s posed smiles for photos.

Close enough!

Miss really wanted to put her Baby Sis’s hair in pigtails too.

We’ve had a great week.

Almost every day we’ve gotten out of the house at least a little bit.  Yesterday we stayed home for a lazy day, but otherwise we’ve been out and about.  I already mentioned getting out for gymnastics class on Monday.  Tuesday I got the girls up and was determined to get Miss to school on time.  I got them all ready to go and we got out the door only a few minutes late for the 25-minute drive to Miss’s school.  We got there and I got Miss up to the door, only to realize that I had completely forgotten it was Spring Break this week.  Miss didn’t really get what Spring Break is, but we had a good laugh about going to school when it was closed.

The girls love playing with their Baby Sis’s stuff.  The photo below looks a bit hostile, but Miss was just showing Lass how to cover her mouth when she coughs.

Sister hugs.

And kisses.

Nothing like playing soccer with sparkly Mary-Jane-ish shoes on.

Baby Sis is sleeping and nursing like a champ.  She wakes up once at night and then sleeps late.  All of my girls have been sleeping a little bit late this week (except Tuesday when I had to wake them all up for “school”) so I have been thoroughly enjoying sleeping until 8.  And my husband is off work for the next week.  I’m loving this and the Easter festivities coming up this weekend with dyeing eggs, hunting for eggs and baskets, and meeting the Easter Bunny on Sunday.  I’m a happy mama.