Refreshed and Exhausted

D and I just returned from a weekend away. We went to a marriage enrichment weekend that was recommended to us by our priest and his wife. Not that we’re “in need” of such a weekend, so to speak...we’re not contemplating divorce, or disliking one another, and we weren’t court ordered to go (but man, I swear some of the couples there looked as though they might’ve been!). But it was, all in all, a wonderful weekend for us. We got away - together - which was about 99% of the greatness of the weekend, and along the way we learned a lot and came to realize that even though we feel like our individual lives and our common life together are a little chaotic and disordered much of the time, we really do a lot of things right. Not to say that there isn’t room for improvement and change and thoughful reflection and communication, but I’ve come away from the experience with a newly found trust in the love my mate has for me. It’s a pretty wonderful thing.

It was a rather evangelical event, and D and I aren’t generally the types to go in for that. We found ourselves kind of taking away what we wanted from some of the sessions and didn’t “buy into” some of the ideas that were presented. Walking out of a women’s only session this morning, I was near convinced that I’m doing everyone in my home a disservice by working. That there’s something wrong with me because I need the balance of both career and home life. That’s a little harsh, I guess, even though in round-about terms I believe that’s what was being promoted. It did cause me to think critically about my current job, however, and how it may be impacting me, and in turn my family, in terms of my general attitude and complete exhaustion and the end of a day. It was kind of interesting.

In general, a good conference. Overall, a wonderful and truly valuable, memorable weekend with my very best friend. I’m refreshed, but so exhausted and emotionally drained that I can hardly see straight. Good thing my mom took it upon herself while she was watching the kids to make dinner for the crock pot. Everything, salad, meat, veg, even dessert are prepared and ready. Now it’s time for trick-or-treat. Photos to come!

Too funny not to pass on...

I heard this on the way home from work today. All I could think about was the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, when he would take any word in English and show how it came from “da Ga-deek.”

Never you mind that it’s twenty after eight and I’ve held up my end of the bedtime bargain and D’s asleep on the couch downstairs, and A is presumably tearing the living room apart because of this. And never mind that in some unsupervised moments, A apparently threw no less than three half-full water bottles, a greeting card, and a hanger DOWN THE HEAT DUCT, where they traveled to the furnace and sat along with three dead bats until we noticed a weird smell and D was motivated to do something about it. I mean come on...we’re talking fire hazard here (is that a ping-pong ball I hear bouncing off the living room wall?!). It’s been a week, let me tell you.

I’m in the midst of contemplating a job change. I’m pretty much done with the place I am in now. Nothing ever seems to get done, there’s no way to really get ahead, and while that appears to be fine with my control-freakish and non-risk-taking co-workers, I find it somewhat hopeless and very boring. When I think about some of the garbage that goes on (talking more specifically about interpersonal relations rather than the actual “work” of work), I am absolutely amazed and somewhat ashamed of myself for hanging out there as long as I have. But in the end, here I find myself just being rather stagnant and weighing several options while thinking that there aren’t enough options.

I did find out this week that, contrary to my own previous beliefs, I am not considered to be at elevated risk for breast, cervical, or uterine cancer. That’s one worry off my mind. I was struck by the feeling I had going for the annual doctor’s visit...that it’s now more about keeping myself healthy for my children as it is about just keeping myself healthy. So...well, nevermind the elevated blood pressure and a number on the scale that nearly made me vomit.

We get to go out with friends tomorrow night, two people who we completely and totally enjoy. They also happen to have three fabulous daughters, one of whom is old enough to be a fabulous babysitter. We’re going to dinner and a show...and I simply can’t wait.

Time to get the Halloween costume ready for the party at school tomorrow. I am so not old enough to have a preschooler in need of a Halloween costume. Cripes...I was just wearing Halloween costumes myself a few years ago. Well, OK, like 15 years ago, but it seems like yesterday.

How is it that in a single day A could come up with 2 of the funniest things I’ve ever heard him say, and his best friend/worst nemesis at the sitter’s would come up with a funny too? Here goes:

A: Mommy!! Mommy!! My brain just thought of an excellent idea!!

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A: Awww...c’mon. No respectable woman eats Cheerios that way, J.

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A: Hey, C! Look at my new Buckeye watch!
C: Yeah. And if you break that one, you’re not getting another one.

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As D said, at least they hear some of what we say to them...

Anyone have some backbone I could borrow?

D and I went to the Ohio State game yesterday. It’s an annual thing...we usually go to at least one game and it’s something we both really enjoy! It’s especially fun now, since we use our game day as a “date” and leave the kids with generous family members (my brother-in-law and sister-in-law were the lucky ones yesterday...thanks, G & D!!). So we went to the band show, hung out with friends at a tailgate, then went to the game.

We got to our seats and quickly discovered that we were sitting right in front of two very loud, very drunk 30-somethings who simply couldn’t control themselves. Their language was obscene and quite frankly, they annoyed us to the point that we left the game after halftime. By far, the worst thing about the whole experience was the fact that there was a young boy (probably 10 or 11 years old) sitting next to me, directly in front of one of these guys. It wasn’t long before this young boy began imitating everything being said behind him. He didn’t use vulgar language, but he quickly went from being a quiet little guy interested in the game to a yelling, screaming little guy trying to sound like the two idiots sitting behind him. The other worst thing about the whole experience was hearing one of the “gentlemen” say that he has three kids of his own. Oooooo!! Lucky them! I wonder how he’d feel if his own kids saw him acting that way.

The other worst thing about the whole experience was that we sat there through an entire half of a football game and never said a word to these two guys. Never asked them to tone it down, never made any kind of comment, never threatened to get a stadium usher to have them removed. It’s just in our nature to keep quiet at the risk of causing trouble. I’m sure, however, that had we had one or both of our kids there, we would’ve handled it differently. Or at least I’d like to think so.

A Halloween Rant

A’s going to be a cowboy for Halloween. J’s going to be a flower. In my usual way, I decided last weekend that I would make their costumes rather than buy cheap and cheesy ones from some store. I even thought that I would start making them last weekend. Yeah. So...fast forward to this weekend (OMG...it’s the weekend? How’d that happen so quickly?). The costume-making supplies are still in the bags from the store, right inside the front door (first thing you see when you walk in the house. FABulous), I’m no closer to even having any idea how to turn those supplies into costumes for the children, and I don’t see it happening this weekend either. It’s about this point in every crafty project I undertake that I realize I don’t have the hours of free time I used to have, and that it’s damn near impossible to accomplish anything with a 4 year old and a 14 month old (who, incidentally, will be walking within the week by my predictions). Then I realize that no one on the short trick-or-treat route A will be taking will even give one rat’s tail about whether or not his costume was homemade rather than purchased at Wal Mart. And J won’t even leave the front porch in hers!! Ahhhhh...

Anyway, the reason I decided to make their cosutmes myself is that I’m one of those people who thinks that Halloween should be about finding stuff around the house and turning it into a costume rather than going out and buying el cheapo nylon and styrofoam cartoon character suits. I don’t know. I guess I want my kids to look back and feel like I tried to do special things for them. But I was shopping today and I’ve been looking high and low for a standard, plain old, nothing fancy, run-of-the-mill cowboy hat for my boy to wear. The closest things I’ve found? An irridescent cowboy hat to go with a “Diva Cowgirl” costume, and several ugly looking foam hats that come in a kit with plastic spurs, guns, sheriff badges, and bandanas. Although I must admit I may end up going back to get the spurs, why is it I can’t find a freakin‘ cowboy hat, for the love of Mike? All I see are these costumes for ninjas, Star Wars characters, cartoon characters, and other things that require no creativity or thought. I thought that every little boy wanted to be a cowboy at some time or another, but perhaps I’m wrong. Anyway, I hope to get the costumes at least started tomorrow during naptime. Sitter’s out of town, so I have an unexpected day off. Of course, planning to start the costumes means planning that both kids will nap, which is really taking a risk in the planning department...

Then there are the redeeming qualities...

It’s exasperating, being a mom. The pace alone that must be kept in order to stay one step ahead of a very busy and smart little preschooler is just exhausting. The emotional highs and lows, the constant self-doubt... well, sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by trying to work while I have such young kids.

But bedtime is (on 99% of days, anyway) that one time of day when I leave my crankiness behind, my selfishness over not having any time for myself or my own interests...and I just snuggle in with my little boy and lavish him with love, tickling, snuggles, and praise. It’s a time that I love, even when I’m so tired myself that I can hardly see straight (and can’t imagine how I’ll be able to keep myself awake through the standard two stories and prayers).

The last couple of days, A has decided that he no longer needs a nap during the day. He hasn’t said so, but he’s made it quite clear that the fight to get him to take a nap is not worth it. So now when he goes to bed at night, he is plain wiped out. Tonight, he had his eyes nearly closed as I finished his last story. So I turned out the light and told him it was time for prayers. He said he was just too tired, that he needed help saying his prayers, but that he would finish them when it came to the end. So I recited his bedtime prayer. Then he got to his list of “God bless”es at the end and he went through the standards. J, Mommy, Daddy, Mimi, Papaw...on and on. Then he got to the end and was slurring his words as he said “God bless all my friends. And God bless the cars they ride in.”

Today is a day I’d like to forget. Unfortunately, it’s one of those days I’ll be remembering for a long time... A and I have been having major difficulty just getting along lately. I’m at a total loss what to do. Consistency isn’t working. Boundaries aren’t working. Time out isn’t working. Putting toys away isn’t working. I’m just exhausted and am wondering where I’ve gone wrong. It feels awful. I look at J and see that she relies on us for everything...happily...that she is so innocent. Then I think two things...A used to be that way. And there will be a day when she is not, and we’ll look back and remember these days with A. Everyone talks about the responsibility of parenting really settling in with them when they bring the baby home for the first time. For me, it didn’t begin then, really. It’s now just hitting me. And hard. I feel like I’m failing my son. And I can’t help but think what he’ll be like as a kindergartener, a teenager, a young man getting ready to leave home. It really is true, that these few years we as parents have to shape our children, to guide them really, go so quickly. And there’s no second chance with them.

Anyway, I actually called D at the office today, but couldn’t bring myself to ask him to come home. I was desperate for some help. For a break. For something. I just didn’t know what to do. A and I settled on the idea that we both needed to be alone for a while...so he played in his room and I unloaded the dishwasher and began working on dinner. It seemed to help, but I sensed his hurt in being told that he needed to have some time on his own. We had dinner after D came home, then I gave the kids their baths. D settled them both into bed. I was glad to have the time with A...he played with his fish and fishing pole and grumbled about brushing his teeth, just like always. But he let me talk to him about the day and how tomorrow would be better. And he let me hold him, just for a minute, before he ran off to bed.

Blah

I think I have a cavity.

But in other news... puh-leeze. In the few moments each day that I can devote to getting caught up on the news, I’d like to find something more worthwhile than the state of Tom Cruise’s sperm count and less depressing and irritating than partisan bickering over who didn’t do enough to a) prevent the hurricane and/or b) clean up after the hurricane and return the entire gulf region to normal the next day.

Shocking!

D told one of his patients that we do J’s hair this way because it makes her easier to get into and out of the high chair! I said it makes her look a little too much like the green Teletubbie, but it was funny nonetheless.

A day of note

Four years ago today, I became a mother. We became parents. We became three. It’s hard to remember life before children. It is so much richer now!

My dear boy...
I love being your mom more than anything in this world. You are an amazing person who has taught me to love more than I ever knew I could. Four years ago, you came into the world. Your voice was strong and your eyes were wide open from the very second of your birth. It was a sign of things to come. At four years old, you speak your mind. You are bright and funny and wise and so, so special to me. Every day is something new for you. And now you are learning to share, to be friends, to manage difficult situations, and to protect the people and things you love. It has been such an adventure to watch you grow over these four years. You are gaining your independence, but still show us that you need us...you crawl into our bed for snuggling, you ask for help, you wonder aloud about new things and ideas. I love being your guide and helper through childhood. It’s wonderful to see you becoming a grown-up boy. I love how you love your sister and how patient you are with her...even when she gets into your toys! I love how you love to learn new things at school and in the world. I hope your excitement for life and new things will continue always. Happy birthday, my dear one. You are my best boy, the one who made me a mother. I love you.