Month: November 2015

It Is What It Is

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Well, I don’t know about you, but this holiday weekend has left me completely wiped out.  We hosted Thanksgiving dinner for 10 people and a dog, had my parents visiting with us all week, and had our bathroom remodel project commence.  Well, just about.  There are a few things the contractors still need to attend to.  Getting them back here is going to be a headache for sure.  Ugh.  I am digressing, as usual.  Suffice it to say, I’d like to take a long long bath in our new tub.  That’s a great idea.

Of course, all the happenings I just listed were all fraught with bumps and hiccups.  Isn’t everything? I kept the phrase, “It is what it is,” going around in my head like a mantra.  Cause it’s just the truth.  Nothing turns out like you wish it to.  You can plan your Thanksgiving dinner for 4pm, but, if you are us, it’s more like 6pm.  You can try your hardest to please people, but, if you are me, you usually wind up disappointed at the response.  And you can expect a certain level of workmanship from a craftsman, but if you are a perfectionist like me, their work most likely will come up short.  I sound like I’m whining.  I’m really not.  It’s just an exhausted response…but in my heart of hearts I know it is what it is.

The same goes for our project sibling.  No success with conception to date.   While the “trying” is fun, it’s also exhausting.  After two months of no bun in the oven, I am getting the feeling that it may just not happen.  I promised myself I would be ok with it.  But, of course, I feel the pang of disappointment, even if I am keeping it in check.  I think it’s harder to see the look of disappointment on my husband’s face.  It’s was so easy last time, I think he thought it would happen just as quickly the second time around.  But I know that my body is 2 years older than the last time.  I can feel the difference in my body, though no one might be able to see it.  Do any of you gals in your 40’s or higher know what I’m talking about? It’s so strange.  It’s like aging starts to accelerate from within.  It’s totally weird.  So I truly leave it up to God and the Universe.  It is what it is.  And it will be what it will be.

I find the lack of my ability to control the outcome oddly comforting.  I’m glad it’s not up to me.  I get to sit back and wait and see what happens.  I get to have Faith.  I get to Trust in something greater than myself.  I get to say, “It is what it is” and mean it.  And I am reminded everyday that I am not pregnant, I am so so lucky to have the beautiful child I do have.

Until next time, enjoy your left overs and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  I’m going to soak in a hot tub with a glass of Pinot Noir.  Thanks so much for reading xo.

 

What To Tell Our Children About The World

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With recent events in Paris, Beirut and Africa, not to mention bombs taking down planes and ISIS filling the headlines, it is a fact that the world has become a scary place.  That’s putting it mildly.  It made me think about what we will tell O about the world we brought him into.  Will we shield him? Will we tell him the truth, as tough as it may be? What we tell him and how we tell him things will help shape who he becomes.

I think honesty is the best policy.  But what about omitting information to protect your child? Is that lying? I certainly don’t want him growing up being ignorant of the world and its ways.  But I also don’t want to scare him.  The idea of suicide bombers is hard to swallow for an adult, let alone a child.    So what do we do? I guess it’s a pretty personal decision for parents.  My husband is in favor of honesty all the way….I like to say “gentle honesty.”

I know some people who didn’t tell their children about 9/11.  Or about the Sandy Hook School shootings.  How you keep something like either of those things from your kid is beyond me.  I mean logistically.  The stories were everywhere.  Not just TV.  You’d have to live under a rock not to notice the outpouring of emotion.  And then what happens when the kids whose parents did have a conversation with them, start explaining it to other children? Your child gets the version as understood by little Johnny from down the street.

I guess like everything, we should approach it with thought and balance.  I suppose it isn’t necessary to have a conversation with O about such things until he reaches school age.  Or before, if  he starts inquiring for himself.   And I suppose we should  gently pour the truth out in terms and in quantities appropriate for his age.  But there are certainly things I want him to be afraid of…like  strange men in vans who have puppies and lollipops.   Damn straight.  Stranger Danger is for real and a whole other post…but something to certainly discuss way before school age.

Ugh! The world can be a horrible place with such evil lurking in it.  How do we make him aware of it without making him completely fearful or worse, completely cynical.  The world is filled with such disenchantment.  Such wild disenchantment.  I believe that is a big part of where much evil is born.  So how do we keep his innocence and naïveté while educating him about the world? Seems an impossible task.  Unless the key is to also fill him with hope.  To teach him respect and trust.  To show him the magic that exists in our every day. To let him know that even though bad things can happen, miracles happen, as well.  To fill him with kindness, faith and possibilities, while we balance it all out with doses of some tough realities.

This parenting thing is not for the faint of heart.  I suppose if we let ourselves become consumed with the terrors that exist we would never procreate.  And the evil that exists would win.  I certainly don’t want that kind of world for O.  It is with a heavy heart for this world that I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving.  May you be especially thankful for the loved ones you call Family and may your heart continue to hold hope in it.

Until next time, this emotional mommy is going to have a good cry and say some extra prayers.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thank you so much for reading.  Xo

40 Blissful Minutes

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I am the first one to say I don’t know how to relax.  I am always “doing” something.  Shamefully, I admit, I sometimes tackle not just two, but three or four projects at a time.  Like at the same time.  Not the best strategy always, but I usually have a lot of pots on the stove, so to speak.  Yesterday was no exception.

It was around 2:15pm. Smack in the middle of O’s nap time.  I was finishing up a project I was working on for Christmas and starting to make a new Chicken Bratwurst recipe with a warm kartoffelsalat for the side.  The contractor who is renovating our bathrooms shows up to do a faucet install.  I figured O would most likely sleep through any noise, as he should have been deeply down by this point in time.  Boy, was I wrong.  One creek up the staircase and O was UP with all capitals and a very loud whine. Our very observant contractor points out, “Hey, the baby’s crying.”  Really? Huh….Gee, I didn’t hear the ear piercing cry….thanks for letting me know.  I didn’t say that….what I said was, “yeah.”

I went into O’s room.  He had only slept for an hour.  There  was no way he was ready to actually get up. I kept the light off and picked him up out of his crib and went to the rocker.  The whole weight of his body draped over my shoulder.  I sat down and started to gently rock and sing to him.  What happened next was such a great gift and it truly brought joyful tears to my eyes.  O fell asleep in my arms.  Now you might think, big deal.  But my O hasn’t slept in my arms for any real length of time since he was an infant.  This was 40 minutes of absolute angelic bliss.  A couple times he stirred only to look up at me with the purest love in his eyes only to then fall back asleep. It was heaven on earth.

I wish that 40 minutes could have gone on and on.  I would have left every project and pot to boil over.  Nothing mattered to me in that moment, but THAT moment.  What a lesson in simply being there.  It is a lesson I needed refreshing in, especially lately.  I let myself become crazed with tasks again.  I feel foolish and well, exhausted.  Time to take it easy again.  Oh my little O is the best teacher!

The only hard thing to swallow about my blissful 40 minutes was that when those times were a regular occurrence, when O was a newborn, I feel like I didn’t enjoy them.  At least not the way I would have had I not had the post partum blues.   It made me sad to think I missed a lot of that time.  I just couldn’t get my head on straight then.  I won’t beat myself up about it anymore.  It is what it is. And I thank God I got through it.   But I can’t pretend I didn’t miss some really special moments.  I guess I should be grateful that I got to fully savor something so wonderful now.  And I am……so grateful.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Thanks for reading! Xo

 

 

The Other Shoe

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My little O has an issue with shoes.  He doesn’t like to keep them on.  At the moment, he only has one pair.  Imagine my quandary when one goes missing while we are out and about.  Give me strength.

Today’s case was perhaps the most dramatic and maybe the most ironic.  We were at the mall where I JUST purchased for my shoeless Joe, a pair of snow boots and an upsize pair of sneakers that light up. (So fun!).  I figured I should buy a pair of sneakers that he will be in after the winter…as he still fits into his only pair and it was a buy one get one half off sale.  I digress, as usual.  We made our purchase, went to the disappointing play area, we made a diaper change which included an elevator trip, and browsed in a couple stores for Mommy.  It was nearing lunch time, so I figured it was time to get out of Dodge.  We got out to the car and I got him out of the stroller, into his car seat and saw he only had  one shoe on.  !!!!!  What the?! I looked around, it was nowhere.  I put him back in the stroller, threw my diaper bag in the car, cause who needs to lug THAT around longer than necessary, and headed back into Macy’s.  I retraced my steps.  That included going back in the elevator.  Going through the stores which are all the way on the other side of the mall.  3/4 way through retracing my steps I decided, “screw it!”  I may have actually said that out loud.  Yes, in fact, I did say it out loud.  To no one in particular,  just the shoe Gods in general, apparently.  I was sweating by this point.  And due to the fact that I switched from my antiperspirant/deodorant to JUST deodorant due to the request from my husband and his concern for my getting early onset Alzheimer’s…I absolutely stunk.  I was not a happy camper.

We headed back to the parking lot where the mystery began.  I figured, “oh well, I’ll double up his socks in his new sneakers and hope he can walk correctly in them.”  We get to the car, and I see something tan resembling his little boat shoe way under the car….hidden by the wheel, in fact.  I’m happy to see the shoe.  But I’m also pissed at the shoe, because I can’t get pissed at an 18 month old.  Completely irrational, I know.

Mind you, this was all after an early morning Doctor appointment for me, at which O decided to react as if it HIS appointment.  Crying inconsolably and hanging on me pretty much the entire time.  I was the one getting the flu shot kid! It was not my best day.  I say this because I have been accused of pooping rainbows.  Let me tell you, some days are rough.  Sometimes I want to put him down for a nap and drown my sorrows in a bowl of chips and double Downton Abbey episodes.  (God, that sounds good!).  The point is, I have bad days.  I have really sucky days.  And I have days that are awesome. It’s all part of the territory, I suppose.  Sort of like poop on your hands.  Some days your just gonna get poop on your hands and that’s all there is to it.  You just wash up real good and take a deep cleansing breath….pun totally intended.

So what have I learned from this? I’m not really sure to tell you the truth.  Maybe I should have more than one pair of shoes for O? Maybe I should watch more closely to see if we leave a trail when out and about? Maybe it’s just that some days are better than others.  The only thing I am sure of is that no matter what, I’m still the luckiest chick I know.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Xo