Chronicles of a Mom

Parenting preschool

2011-07-24T17:32:00.000-07:00

Ummm no one told me how much more difficult it would be to have a three year old than two year old. Everyone always talked about the terrible two's. When people see your kid screaming in the grocery store they sometimes would say "Oh terrible twos!" I mostly smile and them and keep walking.

But Heaven help us when they turn 3! This age is so much more challenging for me. You expect more, they understand more and instead of physical exhaustion which has lessened slightly your brain is a bit fried at the end of the day. They actually need real parenting at this point.

Sure when they are little they have so many more temporal needs to be met by you. Feeding, diapering, getting dressed. A two year old can't and I don't think should be expected to remember every rule of the house. No climbing, no screaming inside, no throwing food, no chasing the cat. But by three they definitely know better and you expect them. And then when Heaven Forbid they aren't following the rules discipline comes in.

Discipline. Yuck. This does not come natural to me and maybe that is a good thing. I really don't understand the mom that can smack her kid for anything they do wrong, drop food on floor-spank, hit brother-spank. I just don't get it. I'm all about boundaries but some people don't even seem to be phased by it. I don't know maybe that isn't a bad thing. Either way I am learning that I have a lot of parenting to learn and I have recently been reading some parenting books which further remind me how much more I can grow to become a better parent. Its all a little exhausting.

I want to do the best possible for my kids. Gosh but doing is such a challenge everyday!

For a few months I started thinking "I'm getting the hang of this! I've got it!" Until Cupcake started talking more and more and asking more and more and pushing boundaries more and more as his 4th birthday is coming up I'm realizing that I have a kid now, not a toddler to teach.

I really am baffled at how I missed that this was going to happen. I felt like for a while my parenting skills went sour. That I lost my touch at boundaries, positive reinforcement etc. But I am realizing that you can't teach a two year old the same way you are teaching a pre schooler. Their needs are different and abilities and thought processes are different.

I'm pretty sure this is a reason why people have lots and lots of kids. When you get good at something it is more fun to do it!

So there you go. My new goal

Wrinkle creams

2011-07-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

There is no better way to put your mind in alert or at ease when looking at a photograph.
I've learned that when you are planning on being in a picture you do your hair and make up. That way later on you can make true "I looked so good back then".

It is somewhat horrifying to look back at baby pictures of my kids. Cupcake 3 going on 4 and Buggy his sister 2.

When did they grow up? When did Cupcake decide that boxer briefs were better than briefs? And that the red ones that come in the package must be Buggy's because they are red. After telling me this he then put them in her drawer.

Watching my kids grow helps me forget that I am aging as well. I am that person who looks at a 19 year old and thinks "I'm older than her?" and as a dear friend put it "I looked in the mirror and thought-I look like someone's mom!".

I'm still trying to figure out if teenagers dress more maturely or if I am that lady who wants to shop in the teen section but seeing as my butt doesn't fit in low rise then meanders to a sweater to match my ketchup stained sweats (a sweater with a Winnie the Pooh character on the front of course).

I looked at a picture of myself from the last month. And It was somewhat shocking still 4 years later. And the fact that I am closer to 30 than 20 and my kids are closer to being in school than using the step stool in the bathroom is panicking.

Looking at that picture of Me and the kids I realized how much more they are going to grow. And how much older I am going to get. It also helped me remember about how my job as a mom is to fill my kids with as much love as I can. That my job as a mom is in short to be better than my best self and to continually find joy in it.

Despite my scrutiny at the lines around my eyes, the freckles that no longer fade in the winter, the spider veins growing across my legs and the general feeling of "Gravity wins again", I want to look back at pictures and be able to remember all the gratitude I felt for being able to be apart of two little beings. And that through my stewardship they become responsible citizens of the world.

PJ's are the new Moomoo

2011-03-21T13:09:00.000-07:00

When my oldest was first born not only was I tired, grumpy, dealing with healing and pain (from a c sectionj-still my gnarliest scar evah!) but with the results of the pregnancy after body.

Oh I knew I wouldn't' be one of those people that hid all the weight and sag within a few days. I was a popped kernel baby and no amount of water was going to shrink me. This is when I first discovered the first step into Moomoo hood.
That's right moomoohood. When being a mommy creates a sense of blobby in mind and body and you need a way to cover it up for a while.

My first stage moomoo was merely pajama pants belonging to my husband and a tshirt of his. He is 5'10 and I am 5'4. I used to wear colors and delicate "Dry clean only Fabrics" and he wears laid back graphic t shirts. It was a perfect match. I wasn't wearing make up anymore because I didn't have time and I rarely did my hair (when you have naturally curly hair and live in a dry cold state you need to 'do' your hair to not look like a wooly sheep). I just kept my black etnies hat on most of the time.

This was all well and fine until after talking to my mom about life, blah blah, baby not sleeping, etc etc she told me "Mariah you need to stop wearing Kalon's clothes". Mom's do have telepathy I know but after being out of the house a long time you think that magic wears off a bit. It doesn't. She caught me.

I had a secret life at home. I got up when I absolutely HAD to, I showered at some point, and didn't leave the house as much as I should have. But when I left the house I cleaned up. I was going to be in Public (by the way Public only counts when you are shopping at non grocery stores).

I felt yucky. Being out and about was the only prodding I had besides church to wear real clothes and I am grateful that my mom (remembering the me I was before I, myself was a mom)reminded me about it.

It has taken over 3 1/2 years to feel like I am remembering myself. The one that got dressed in non pajamas and does her face and hair just about everyday. This has a bit to do with 2 babies in a 19month span and a big out of state move and yes...some therapy and medication but looking back I wish I could have talked to my younger Mariah and given her some advice.

I felt that if I wore pj's I could hide all my new insecurities. And boy was I wrong when I saw pictures of me wearing my dark pj garb and hat! I looked like the crypt keeper and I swear I literally "acked!" outloud when I first saw myself. Dark circles, strange angles of the gut, rear views etc.

The only positive outcome of these discoveries was that I purged my closet and started discarding the clothes that I saw myself in the pictures wearing. Its kind of like that person that wears a foundation that is a wrong color and it is obvious to you as an outsider but to them it matches.

I envied people for a long time that were naturally really thin. Silly, petty, useless I know. And unless you have had the challenge of an extremely good for your body diet and vigorous exercise to maintain your voluptuous physique it won't make sense. But for anyone else who knows the horror of realizing that you are your worst enemy I give you and My old Mariah some advice

1.Don't wear pajamas during the day. If you must at least wear a bra
2.Don't expect your body to be the same after having a baby you can't rely on genetics to smooth that pooch and tighten those buns-feel good about yourself and work at it hard its very rewarding
3.Don't let your spouse say anything about your body that is negative (and don't ask!!!) and by a man saying he likes your big nursing boobs does not count as positive feedback (those things go away)
4.Relax. Enjoy the day. IF you are not feeling like yourself, disconnected, floaty, unrelated to anyone, not enjoying things you used to find a therapist or a good Gym Trainer

Because given the sleep that you will no longer have, the terrible nursing bras you will wear, and all the poor advice from total strangers and even those whom you love, the last thing you need is for you to hide from yourself.

Yes, its new. It was different. I had no idea how to be a mom. How to make dinner, clean, diaper, deal with a 24/7 crying baby or sick baby and function in normal society or company. But despite what people tell you just about everyone feels this way and those who don't think they did have been a mommy for too long to remember (I know this because I no longer cringe hearing a newborn cry--My husband on the other hand is a different story).

So keep your head up, your hair done and for heaven's sake keep your pajamas out of your wardrobe.

What the Flagnod

2011-03-15T20:45:00.000-07:00

My nieces both who watch spongebob were the first to share this lovely phrase with me. And I have said it more than once in my head, out loud and in smothered tones while certain small persons carry flour and sugar to their playroom with their bare hands...AGAIN.

March is not just a month of kissing Irishmen (preferably with rippling muscles) or painting your nails green, or promising that you are going to eat spinach on St Patty's to make up for all that ice cream you gorged on last night after the kids were finally down and hubby wanted to workout and you decided to keep typing on the computer.....

I have no idea how the time has gone by so fast without me knowing it. I have no idea how my daughter grew a whole shoe size in a month and "What the flag nod!" when the heck did we ever finish Christmas?

My life flashes in front of me and I panic a little. This is what it feels like to get old. I am not even 30 and I start feeling menopause crushing my hormones and giving me night sweats. I think this was my aha moment. I am officially officially a crazed minivan mom. Sigh.

I don't like time going by so fast. I don't have a choice how fast it goes by but I do with how I spend it. Tonight I spend it drinking a delicious slushy from Sonic. And tomorrow and the next I hope I take better care to keep track of what we are doing in our lives and recording it. Because when I wake up after the blitz of holidays and frantic shopping and family visiting stressing (like major stressing-even if I love it) it is already Green season-taxes-warmer weather.

And next year when this March comes around again I hope-I hope that I've found an even better place for myself and enjoying even more my very busy, very trying and very wonderful family. And to make it a goal to learn new verbage from scholastic books rather than cartoon influenced nieces.

Fill er' up!

2010-09-27T10:07:00.001-07:00

I have been doing a lot of pondering lately. And by me just writing that makes me think I should have a slow southern drawl with black coffee steaming next to me.

It seems exhausting to go into details of all the crazy things that have happened especially because it seems that is what life is right now. For the past two plus years it seems to be non stop crazy stuff. I have become a little self conscious of myself. I have been wondering about is it me that makes drama and crazy stuff happen? Is it how I live my life?

I know that I can be fairly dramatic in my retelling of events (even it is how I am feeling about it) but I do think that I know that I am being that way.

My mom told me a few times over the weekend how blogs are embarrassing. That people say things that other people don't need to know. And I know that maybe she has read a blog once of mine but it made me think "Is she referring to me?". I didn't want to answer because I didn't want the question answered. I told her that I didn't write anything that I wouldn't tell someone outloud and in public for that matter. To this she just shook her head. So we continued our time at the beach as a family and I continued the dialogue in my head about blogs.

I am a big believer in sharing how you feel about something and altough I don't always have great tact I don't divulge things like a private journal, even some of those things I don't like sharing with myself.

All this train of thought led me (as it usually does) to how I am percieved by my immediate family and really most importantly to my kids. I want to be open with them. I am determined to help my kids by being the best me possible at the given time. And I guess as we are all different that means different things to everyone. I will share with you the things that are most important to me for my kids to know

1. God loves them and is real
2. That I love them unconditionally and of how much great worth they are
3. That they have a responsibility to be kind to others and treat themselves well too
4. That I love their Father
5. To have fun responsibly (even if I use the term responsibly loosely)

How can I teach my kids these things? How am I not going to throw them into therapy from all my flaws? How am I going be a great example to them while being human and imperfect? I am not exactly sure but I know that I need to start with the basics.

Keep myself filled up. Take care of myself physically and spiritually. Take care of my husband and I's relationship. And be the example of how one can live their life in a way that suits them and that nourishes not only their soul but their family's as well.

So lately I have been focusing on that. Filling up my life with people, activities, food (delicious and not delicious) that fill me up.

Because although it is truly unfortunate ice cream, chocolate almonds, coca cola, does not make me a happy mom. Nor does browsing the internet all day or (big sigh) reading US weekly and people for two hours.

So to you ladies who also had chocolate for breakfast I dedicate this to year (this is me smashing champagne bottle on the monitor). We can do it. We can fill er' up. And by Golly we can all avoid (hopefully) intensive therapy for our loved ones.

What do you want?

2010-08-29T15:31:00.000-07:00

Peanut butter is delicious. I prefer it crunchy and organic (only because I heard it was less fattening...). If it is to do mixed with chocolate I prefer it in a tiny reese's peanut butter cup.

I believe in God. And just like that miniature peanut butter cup I like it in my own type of dose. I don't mean to say that I am not a very religious person or that I do not believe in organized religion (because I very strongly due) but the older I get. The faster I see my kids growing up. The more strenuous situations I am put in with being a Mother the more I find myself needing that special Reese's peanut butter cup.

Today I went to church and someone quoted someone by saying this "If you want what someone else has then do what they do".

I have said many times before. I don't have a model body or had been born with skinny genes but I also don't work out everyday and eat really healthy foods. This gives me some comfort. It means that I look like this by choice. Although even if I did all those things I wouldn't spring a pair of long legs and full lips.

"If you want what someone else has then do what they do."

This really struck a mommy string in me. I thought to myself "What do I want? What do I admire in people?"

My list can go on together but I think it comes to this. I want the strength that in horrible circumstance I can keep it together and that I can enjoy life to its fullest. I have a great mommy friend with 5 boys. Thats right 5 boys. And to I would suspect many, that seems like an extreme amount but she is one of those people who you could only picture having lots of kids. Its because of how much love she seems to be able to radiate.

Her boys are well behaved and very adventurous for little boys and when you are around them you can sense the joy that is in their home very often.

So today with all the potty training going on. Pushing of wills, crying (no not just from me but from my two tired kids as well), the stained carpet, the broken once manicured toe nail (my last bit of decency!) that quote clicked.

You as a mommy can complain about the family you were raised with. Complain that if I just had "that kid" (the one who sits miraculously and reads a book for an hour) You would be a better parent. That if my spouse who just help out more and smother we more with diamonds and kisses and dates and doting that I would be a better Mother. But the truth is you are a better Mother because you chose to be.

Which means because I want to be like my friend and be better at my chosen occupation then I have to muster up the courage to get er' done. To find what I need to not be so exhausted of this hard season in my life.

There are a lot of things that I want that other have. Some impossible granted (because Harry potter can't actually teach me magic). But I know I have the will to stick it out (proven by my ability to wait in hours of lines just to get a beautiful pair of shoes). I know that I have my peanut butter cup in my pocket comforting me and that other moms out there who are going through the same potty training, ornery kid mess I am that I am.

Sneeky treats

2010-07-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

With kids I have learned to be sneaky and I am still deciding if it is proper or not. I say this as I am sitting with my back striaight chair legs tucked neatly behind me-crossed and sipping Earl Grey.

Ben and Jerry's was on sale at the grocery store and I bought it for the nutritional value of course. Chunky monkey (fruit) Half baked (wheat bread) Phish food (Omega 3) and double chunk fudge (this was my husbands and I definitley tisked him for eating something so unhealthy).

Is it wrong for me not to want to share these treats with my kids? I am sure most would say no but then again would most wait until the kids are in bed to eat them?

What about if your kids don't always take naps. What if you decide you want Phish food for dinner? What if your husband comes home and asks "Where are the three containers of such and such-I wanted some?

You hide. You learn to be sneeky and to be honest it feels really good.

I imagine myself smearing myself in old milk and cheerios to camoflauge with the ground. Using my spreadable belly skin to suction cup to the walls and spider man it to the freezer.

"AAAAAh No sister!" covers the creak of the freezer door as cool air penetrates my nervous skin. I grab my pint and inch toward the silverware drawer. Blue and black eyes laser beam my hand and I drop the spoon

"NOOOOOO!" I yell as the water spotted spoon looks up at me and delicious jerry and I see a trickle of tear run down his silvery face.

"Will I make it?" I think to myself.

Will we all survive?

(DEEP SIGH)

So I stuff my special someth'n someth'n back in the freezer and encourage my kids to read their books.

And as Blue eye's little sister is about to take his toy they both get distracted again by another confrontation and I (knowing better) quickly grab my clattered spoon and save Jerry and tell my kids turning my head to the side so they don't see the bite I've taken "I've got to take care of something in my room I'll be back soon".

Exhale Jerry and I are alone at last.

Maybe for you it isn't ice cream. Maybe it is keeping the twilight series in the bathroom and for some reason it is taking an extra long amount of time in the powder room.

Sometimes sneeky feels reaaaally good. In a day of Toddler and/or baby routine it often pays to be sneeky. And if your lucky you win treats.

Talk about it

2010-06-28T21:18:00.001-07:00

Why is that sometime we have to go to Hell and back to figure out where we want to be and ideally where we are?

I have learned and relearning about the need for help. The need for a 'Village'. I think often that it would be nice to have a village again. A society where we know each other better. Where we are involved with each other more.

We have so many distractions (mine is the computer).

During my period of non medicated up and downs I went to a short lecture about Faith in Trying times. It was a religious lecture focusing on how the person speaking had been through multiple hardships and had to learn to listen to that small voice that tells you what to do to help. To pray for help.

I am a very religious person. I can't say that I always have been but I grew up in a family that was devout. And it wasn't until my very trying times that I learned what it really meant to pray.

Sometime talking about it outloud sounds so cheezy. But to someone who understands even a glimpse of that reality.

During that lecture I thought about many of the situations I put myself in at home. And what was it that I could do to make my job (a chosen at home) more successful, more rewarding and less stressful.

So we cancelled cable-because I could easily stick my kids in front of it all day and/or myself and watch all my favorite shows instead of going to bed at a decent hour

I lowered my expectations of myself-yes it is nice to have a clean house and any pictures we take casually of our family has stuff in the background (spilled food perhaps, laundry, toys, shoes) but that is the stage of life we are in

Found the things which help me be happy-working out really hard can actually be really invigorating, praying fervently, reading scriptures, decluttering

Renewed my vows to invest in relationships-A new good friend taught me about the freedom of no silly gossip (something she doesn't do and something I now am aware of with myself), that quality time with my husband is not watching television-its just talking, that there is always something with your own family that drives you crazy but it is probably better just to get over it (or sever ties if need be which I have had to do)

Why is it that so much of what hurts us we don't talk about?

As mommies it is our job to provide the best environment for our kids. That is what we signed up for. You know yourself well enough and for some of us our spouses know us well enough to know what that best is. We/I need to take care of myself so that I can take care of my family. It isn't just about time and staring at them and saying 'I love you' It is also about being an example. Showing that we value ourselves so of course our children are valued as well.

I have learned after going to depths of despair and coming back and feeling more myself (at least the new me that I am getting to know) That you need to talk about it. You need to do something about it. And you need to leave room for change when something better and fulfilling comes into place even if it is uncomfortable at first.

Kind of like a new bra. Sure you may be used to the grandma lugger holder but they weren't meant to touch your belly button. Hike em up and wear em' proud.

Disappointed

2010-06-23T13:57:00.001-07:00

I recently read a couple articles in some fashion magazines that I like. One was an interview with Gisele (soon after having her baby) and the other was with Heidi Klum. Both beautiful both supermodels. Both soon after having babies in bikinis and looking great. But both of which gain what is needed for their babies (not 40 or 50lbs) and workout and eat really well to be able to do so. They don't treat their bodies like garbage bags.

Since having my first baby I have still not figured out the balance of all done up or nothing done. I went from working and being dressed stylishly in tailored clothes. Make-up and Hair done everyday to being at home and rarely sporting make up and definitley never tailored clothing.

I had an ephiphany a few days ago when I was discussing this very topic with my sister/confidant/person who tells me how it is and I still love her. "We aren't all Gisele's. Yes you should do your make up"

And I was a bit disappointed. Sure I see magazines and know that that isn't my body type or bone structure. Even if I worked out and lets saw got really fit I would never have long lean legs. But it is still sad to me to finally come to terms with this fact. There is as part of me that really did want to think "Well if I did get really fit I would look like that".

Aww man. I really liked the fantasy that there are people out there who were sprinkled with extra lean dust in Heaven who can eat whatever they want, not workout, and still look fabulous.

So you mean in order to look our best we actually need to 'do' ourselves and nurture our bodies. Boring.

So as I mull this over and type this, listening to my baby girl learn to put herself to sleep and nudging my newly emptied snickers bar to get to the "Q" key I think "Its time to be your best self"

My body has changed a lot. Things are lower and I swear parts have moved completely since giving birth and I am still not used to it but I want to be my best self on the outside as well. It is something that is important to me so (Looong heavy sigh) I guess I actually need to put in the work and do it.

I guess its a lot like helping your baby go to sleep on her own. Some kids cry one night for 40minutes (My oldest) and wam bam they sleep through the night where as others (baby girl for example) take weeks to wean from being put down and falling
Why is it that fantasy can be so disappointing?

Some people naturally and I also think were nurtured to take care of their bodies and be active. They learn early on that work pays off. Where as people like me it takes a long time to finally break down and say "I am tired of feeling like I am wearing a fat suit so I am going to do something about it". It takes weeks to wean myself off of snacking all day and took a good 4 weeks of aerobics classes to realize that hard work feels wonderful and is very rewarding.

So if you are feeling disappointed about yourself break through your dark cloud of self doubt/fear/laziness and get your butt moving.

Life is meant to be enjoyed not be disappointed by.

How to Sober up

2010-06-04T10:11:00.001-07:00

A few months ago I called the mental health hotline for my insurance. I had had a really low point where it seemed everything hurt, almost literally. It was like I had all the unexpressed desires, hurts, angers, fears bottled up inside and it made my body hurt.

I was tired, angry and I spent much of a night crying to God about my anguish.

After talking with my sister who gratefully is open about her own struggles told me, "Take it from me, you don't want to get where I have been. Get help now".

So I called my insurer to talk about who was covered so that I could get chemical help (I wish this just meant a facial of somekind on a paradise beach).

While on the phone the kind women (who is a trained therapist) asked me the routine questions one of which was

"How have you self medicated?" I laughed. "Crying and food" I answer

"How much alcohol have you used to self medicate"

not surprised I say, "None, I don't drink, but sometimes I wish I did".

"No you don't, then you would have a whole other load of problems".

I don't drink alcohol and I never have. I know I don't just speak from my experience, but I have talked with more than 3 people (all of which don't drink) about how sometimes it seems like it would be nice to, or as I have said

"It is a good thing that I don't drink or I think at this point I would be an alcoholic"

Self medication. Self soothing. Something we try to teach our babies so that they sleep and don't need pacifiers or a bottle to be able to sleep (items that have been deemed either unhealthy or corroding to development).

As adults we need that too. As moms we need that even more. What is it that you self soothe with?

As divine and specifically different people we need different things. We receive things differently, we cope differently, we respond differently.

But what I believe (and am learning over and over again) Is that we need close relationships. We need bonding. We need to feel loved and heard. Some people may get that from blogging (wonder why so many people do it?) It may relieve you of your thoughts without the pressure of being judged in as my computer husband would say 'real time'.

We need, especially mommies close connections with friends. You can vent on a blog, rant on a blog, but the only way to find satisfaction with any of it is sharing it with somebody who you know loves you despite anything you feel you may be hiding under the table.

Its the difference between having fast food and a homemade meal from scratch. Sure In n out is quick easy and relieves your hunger faster, but the result does not last as long and just plain isn't satisfying especially if you are used to 'real food'.

Those deep, intimate connections relate us to others and help make what we say feel important.

I am a fairly open person but I have to push myself often to do it.

I have felt alone in the world, I have felt at times friendless and marooned.

But I have learned that there is nothing like talking with a friend whom has served and you have served and who you have exchanged trials with that is more sobering.

Coming to Terms

2010-05-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

I love people. I haven't always been a really social person. I remember being little and being a lot more timid and Shy. Being in a room with lots of people I was intimidated by it and a lot more comfortable being by myself and reading.

Not to mention I had an older sister who I always felt was my opposite. We were (are-duh) two years apart. She was opinionated and the girl who matched her underwear to her socks, to her bow, to her shirt, to her shoes. It was the 80's, but c'mon.

She was louder than I was and cooler in school. She told people what she thought directly and never seemed scared to get into trouble. She kept really good grades.

I on the other hand remember specifically my mom telling me "Here are clothes that you can interchange so that they always match". On a morning when my mom picked out my outfit I cried all the way to school because I thought it looked horrific.

My sister took me to the yard lady to help and she said, "The only thing ugly on your face is those tears" and even at the age of 7 I thought it was cheesy that she said that.

Do you ever think about how you became the person you are now?

As a person who once wanted to major in Psychology and as a person who can be found in Therapy I have thought a lot about it.

I became a lot more outgoing in middle school and by high school although I shyed away from a lot of things that seemed to hard, or challenging, or threatening (like trying out for sports, or a play) I didn't pull so far away from Social situations (the crazy boy hormones helped alot too with breaking that barrier)

Being a mom now helps me reflect on my own childhood. The things I was taught, or what at least I percieved to be my reality.

I have talked with my sister about a lot of situations and memories that I remember and either she doesn't remember them, or remembers them so differently?

And really it comes down to this. I am becoming a little more worried about how my kids will remember me and their childhood. As my therapist often says to me though "But now you recognize the things that you would like to be different and make sure you do that for your children" Or for instance don't do.

So I am coming to terms with my mere 25 years of life. I am realizing that even though my mom (God bless her) Had 3 kids by the time she was 25.....3 KIds! That I am the mother I choose to be.

Keeping it Real

2010-03-11T16:45:00.000-08:00

I am the mom who in order to blog will let her baby pull everything out of a cupboard as long as it isn't dangerous.

I am the mom who will feed her kid marshmellows as a bribe on a crazy day just so they will lay in bed (He is now conditioned to ask for chocolate when he is tired...no I am not joking)

I am the mom who squeezes into things, pulls them off, puts something else on, looks in the mirror, hates her hair, then opts to wear the comfiest non pj's in her closet and gives her hair the evil eye while scrounging the house for bobby pins.

I have those days

I have been taught many things. And I am still learning.

I am the mom who won't shave her legs for a week just to prove that I don't have to and then forget that I have done this while wearing capri's at the gym.

I am the mom that surveys just about any landscape and room seeing the dangerous heighths and pictures her energetic toddler climbing to it and jumping to his death.

I will never have a two story house with kids under the age of 10.

I am the mom who hasn't felt beautiful in probably 10 years. I don't consider myself ugly, but I think I am rather ordinary.

I am the mom who realizes there is something wrong with this.

And I am the mom who has learned to seek help for what she cannot do for herself and to be brave enough to be honest about it.

I am the mom who needs, wants, hopes, to keep it real.

Its my sanity.

Mom's need Therapy Kid's need their mom's

2010-02-23T14:25:00.000-08:00

I am sitting at the computer chair fragrance ing the air with my new Banana boat aerosol self tanner. My shirt literally reads "SAVE ME" with a droplet of water, pony tail and new 'mom' jeans.

I have been thinking a lot lately and at times too much lately of how hard it is to be at home with my kids. I used to think that if you chose to stay at home it was because you were happy enough to do it, that your husband made a ton of money so you were never stressed and your kids would be happier. I was wrong.

I am grateful and proud that I have the opportunity to stay at home with my 2 kids, but it is extremely challenging.

When Andrew was 3 months old I dabbled a bit in working with my previous employer. I remember the conversation I had with my Dad about whether, or not I wanted to work.

"Well, do you feel like you are going to go crazy"

"yes"

"You know you are going to have thousands of more hours with him even though you are gone for a few"

So even though I felt guilty because I had the opportunity to stay at home, but was not happy with what I was doing (no help from post partum depression either).

I worked until basically was told they were cutting back which after working in HR new was going to happen and was OK with it, but sad because I looked forward to dressing up and putting my face on and wearing pretty heels. It was my special something.

It takes a lot of prayer, a lot of support, and a lot of courage to stay at home full time. I hear from people many of which I admire for other reasons say "I could never stay at home, I need something else I would go crazy". I nod my head understanding what they mean, but I do agree that there is something greatly lost when you choose not to.

I learn over and over that I cannot judge. I know that place, I am not in your skin, but I want to say

"Buck up! Yes, its hard. Yes, you will go crazy at times. But your kids are little, they need you and they grow up so fast! Your life will not be over or any less important because you are not recieving credit from the world, or a paycheck"

Because these are the things I think and say to myself.

Will my kids still have issues when they are older even though I chose to stay at home? Probably.

Will my kids be constantly happier because I choose to stay at home all day? No, but I think it helps.

Did my husband make a ton of money and life was grand when I chose to stay at home? No way, but you sacrifice.

Am I an extremely happy person and that is why I choose to stay at home? No

But I have realized the value of my children's time . When I am old and look back I want my kids to remember me being physically and emotionally available to them. I want them to remember that I chose to stay at home and be there after school to help with homework because I wanted to show them I wanted to be with them and I hope that when that time comes they will know that I did it with Sacrifice, not because I need their kudos, but because I want them to know how much they are valued.

So lessons learned,

my kids go crazy and have really rough days with me, but after 8+ hours by myself with them their ear bleeding screams don't bother me so much--so I know I am becoming more patient in general

I do go crazy quite often and wonder what it would be like to be able to drop, or leave your kids with someone and being able to go a paycheck job and not having to deal with the daily crazy--but I have learned that I can do it--I am continually become more courageous and self assured

I do wish at times (ongoing since Andrew was first born) that we had more money that didn't go directly to living expenses, but that attitude doesn't change with pay increases it comes from within--I have learned you can go without and that it forces you to find happiness in family and in moments when your kids smile at you and say 'I love you'--Its OK to sacrifice

I don't think I am a great example of an at home mom, but I do my best. Its a choice what you are willing to sacrifice and I guess I chose to sacrafice some of my sanity. And if asked to do it again for my children the answer would definitley be yes. That being said I would start seeing a therapist a lot sooner.

Stop worrying about yourself

2010-01-21T14:07:00.000-08:00

There was a really hard day at home. Kids, no naps from them, and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I felt so bad for myself and was on the brink of despair (keep in perspective of coarse that I do realize I can be a bit dramatic to myself and I know I chose to be at home with kids).

I was sick and tired of feeling so grumpy that day I got this in my head "Mariah, calm down and find a way to enjoy it. You chose to be here". So what did I do? I thought about what would be fun (my motivator)
I decided to throw myself a party

I baked a cake, ordered a pizza, and a redbox.

I called Kalon and told (should have said asked, but if I am being honest here I might as well be completely) him to pick up the pizza and redbox on the way home.

I am actually pretty embarassed to admit this, but it did make me realize that you don't have to be perfection. Its okay to lower your standards so that your brain doesn't seize and give up the ghost of sanity.

Slow down and shorten your list of to do's to 'to musts'

This event described above was a couple months ago and after the past two emotionally awful weeks for me I got a nice thump on my head last night. I had been feeling really lonely and marooned a bit and even though we have been here for about 6 months I was wanting so bad to be in contact with people I have grown to love while first learning about being a mom.

I received a much needed message from a BFF of mine by the name of Shmar (yes, that is her given name). Lame, that I hadn't been able to pick up the phone etc. but hearing her and what had been going on with her family made me realize "YOu do have friends and they have problems too, so calm down and stop whining about yourself...to yourself"

So I have to say even though I miss the one on one interaction with my dear friend I think it was a blessing in a way from Heavenly Father that Life does feel awful at times, but you aren't the only one who feels that way.

So To You Shmar--I hope we are able to talk officially on the phone instead of through messages and I hope that whenever you read this you will know that I hope you get to write a little of your book.

And to anyone else who has made it this far...if there is anyone reading this at all. I relearn over and over again that I just need to stop worrying about myself and ask for help.

New Years Resolutions

2010-01-01T08:48:00.000-08:00

Christmas was great. Kalon got work off (Adobe closes down Dec.24th-Jan1st) so we have him with us and it is awesome. We go work out together, cook together and hang out with the kids together.
WE went to bed before midnight which was my preference and I am still in PJ's woohoo.

Happy New Year. IF you haven't notice I still haven't figured out the new photo program K put on and seriously it is crazy how much less time you have with just one more kid. Seriously.

But New Years resolutions anyone? I personally am not a fan of them, but I did decide that I am going to stop doing the things that I hate.

I am going to do my best to do the things I enjoy, and or work on enjoying the things that I don't, because life is too crazy to hate things that you do. Slideshow pictures to come of our last two holidays!

And to my pregnant fellow blogger friends. Pat your tummy for me!

25 going on 30?

2009-12-28T19:56:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas my fellow momma elves!
I have to say mine was pretty awesome. My felt hat did get puked on and my knickers received little action besides scuffing against cupboards and stretching from food, but we had visitors.

I recently packed away my striped socks and sung the last jingle bells. Santa fled the coop yesterday and although I love him it was nice to have my house back to semi normal again. This time of year I was grateful to have my family with me. The beautiful people I include in the 'Shmills' and most of all my health.

As I get older I am reminded that I can no longer stay up late. I can no longer eat lots of treats without frequent use of the restroom and that eggnog can't be eaten alone for breakfast.

It is especially this time of year when green is donned and the stockings are hung with care that I realize my body has slowed down. I have to start earlier and earlier to prepare for that years festivities.

Talking with my beautiful Sister in Law (who has animal kids only at the moment) I mention that even though I am only 25 I feel like I am 40. That when I read Harper's Bazaar I relate more to the 30's style guide then the 20's.
"Well, you are closer to 30 then young 20's"

(GULP!!!)

and then I said I feel like I've aged way faster since having kids

"Well, kids do age you, but I don't think its 10 years"

(SIGH)

"I would say 5 years"

(SO I AM 30 ?????)

Oh brother call my vein, but seeing the wrinkles form under my eyes and the way my forehead creases I wonder what I will look like at 50!

This was an ephiphany I did not want to have.

I feel like I have been stuck in this weird "I don't know how to dress my age rut" for years.

I was married at 19 and would still shop in the juniors department at Nordstrom. And although I turned 20, 10 days later I still felt young.

I wore dress clothes for the next three years of my life and then was at home with a new little man and I felt I hit a midlife crisis. What do I wear? I am a mom, I don't want to be a frumpy one, but what the heck do I wear? I feel I am way too old for Abercrombie head to toe and jeans and ugg boots 24/7

After Having buggy and feeling older I feel even more confused. What is age appropriate when you are not young 20's but not yet middle 30's????

OYYY...... (by the way does anyone know what that means?)

So this Christmas I not only celebrated the birth of my Savior Jesus Christ, but the death of a salesman....wait thats not right.

The death of the young 20 year old Mariah.

I had of coarse culturally acceptable burning of the body inside the castle, but just before being killed I was saved by a little hobbit...wait thats not right.

Anyways. Now that my elf outfit is in storage what do I put on next? It is too early to be wearing my red heart teddy for Valentine's and I am too old for my footed pj's.

Suggestions?

It hissed at me

2009-10-20T20:18:00.000-07:00

I got one of those glade sensor air fresheners and Hubby walked by it a couple weeks ago and kind of gave a jump when it went off "It hissed at me" he said. That made me laugh and ever since then I think of him saying that and it makes me giggle inside.

I know that he is thinking of that tonight "it hissed at me". Today I wore my grumpy goggles. They feed impulses into my brain and bloat my tummy and give me cramps all day and a voracious appetite. The kids more prodomniatley Smandrew did not take nap(s) today and I was going cocoo for cocoa puff as lido would put it.

Having kids all day from 7am-8pm non-stop makes the grumpy goggles fog up and life seems quite a bit less happy. Hubby just informed me as I was sitting rocking buggy to sleep that "He couldn't deal with me anymore" I cried of coarse mostly because I was embarassed and agreed. I totally understood what he meant. And with all that moisture in my goggles I had to take them off and calm down for a bit. Refocus. I had been hissing at him since he had been home. Even when I tried to run away (or as he would say abandon them) and went into the computer room to order pizza online for dinner he followed me in and I just about freaked out I wanted to scream and cry "I just want to be left alone and have quiet for 5 minutes!!! Please! I am going crazy!"
But I didn't instead I hissed at him and told him to leave me alone I could take it anymore (sounds kind of the same right?)

Ugh, I am glad today is over with and tomorrow is a new day. The pizza by the way was disgusting just FYI don't order the hand tossed from Pizza hut. Really don't order greasy food for dinner when you already aren't feeling that great.

The battle of the emotions begins and for the next week I will have to keep my goggles in check beccause it will be that long until uhumm is over with and my body calms down.

Normal Mariah has thought of some things that makes her laugh and wanted to document them (because you have to admit-talking in the 3rd person about yourself totally makes you seem more sane and points plausible)

A little list of the moments that have made me laugh really hard.:

Laying next to Smandrew and he touches the mole on my cheek "hmm" he says and then proceeds to try and get it off with a very concerned face

My little niece eating chocolate cake and me teasing her asking "Did you eat some cake?" "No..." "Who did it?" " The rat" while she had cake all over her face

Kalon and I laying in bed and I went to put my leg over his and he flicked his leg up so fast and pushed mine back down
"Cat like reflexes" he said (like in the old car commercial)

In Idaho and on a trip to Starbucks with hubby and Dad. Dad is telling a joke and he is laughing hysterically at himself and his funniness which makes us laugh too. Then I say "You just crack yourself up don't you" and he wheezes out through laughing hysteria " I know....I just can't even stand myself"!

My sister in law playing rock band. My hubby and her hubby (my brother) convince her that in order to change the menu options she needs to talk into the microphone which she does while my brother controls it with his remote control. She responds about how cool it is etc etc. They eventually let her know that is not how it works and even though I would have totally done the same thing-it is still hilarious to me to think about

Life is good, sometimes People suck and most of the time dancing and music make it better.
Next time someone, or something hisses at you remember We are all allowed to be crazy once in a while and if it persists tel them to take off the grumpy goggles and calm down and I would reccomend offering to buy them a treat. Like how you would bribe an angry dog to look the other way with a big raw, meaty bone.

The baby made me fat

2009-10-13T18:36:00.000-07:00

What not to wear.Ok seriously this is one of my favorite shows on TLC. I love the makeovers and the way people glow once put into pretty well fitted clothes. It is like a light is clicked on and they feel not just better, but really more themselves. The self they forgot about years ago in pursuit of other goals wether career or family.

In college someone asked me if all my family was like me.

Basically meaning: really into clothes etc. and makeup and of coarse my reply was NO.

I think they had meant it to be negative, but I hadn't taken it that way at the time and I am grateful to have grown up in a family where being well manicured was important, but money was tight. I grew up in a family where the matriarch was always dressed well and face on (make up that is).

I expected myself to be that way when I had kids (doesn't every mom want to be the pretty, nice mom that people want to visit with?) I didnt' realize it would take about 2 years to get closer to my expectation.

Fluctuating with so much weight the past 7 years between hormones, pregnancy, depression and overeating I have learned that Darn it I can like myself for the way I am. But it took a lot of tears and self pity to get to it.

I today read an article in a fashion magazine about someone struggling with the last 5lbs. (Oh bother 5lbs!) so they would look great in the Vickie's bikini they had just ordered.

And I realized while and as I was reading it "Get over yourself". Woopidi doo dah. Stretch marks and cellulite and hanging parts have nothing on 5lbs.

By the end of the article it mentioned workout to stay healthy not lose weight, but having a weight goal will never be satisfying because you will always want to do 'better' or lose more.

I am not going to be that person who goes the rest of my life feeling sorry for myself for the choices I have made (Having children, not working out all the time, and eating what I want).

My great friend T from Livermore whom I recently got to visit said, "Gosh the way you talked I thought you were going to be huge-you look great!"

Meaning my blog complaining about the extra weight I had and the struggle to stiffen my jiggle that I blab about.

And I am so glad she said that because afterward I thought, "She is right...it did sound like I was ginormous" And even if I feel that way. Most of the time what we feel about ourselves isn't true (especially the negative).

I want to be more toned. I have given up the mentality of "IF only I could wake up and be 123lbs again"

Don't get me wrong there are still times where I think it would be nice if that could magically happen, but I am not basing my happiness, or what I think my life would be like if I was there again.

Looking back at pictures after having my first baby I wore big clothes, pajamas and anything comfy that flowed away from my body. Not becoming or attractive on me.

I didn't realize at the time when my mother scolded me for wearing men's clothes and informed me that I wasn't allowed to take my husbands pajamas anymore that she was doing me a service.

While competitively speaking in college I learned "Look good, feel good" all is in perspective of coarse. College, before the child bearing days (yes I base my timeline on this)

So when I see people who wear scroungy ill fitted clothes and seem to not care at all about their appearance, or the way items fit them I always think "Do they really not value themselves enough to do so?"

So I pose a question to whomever might come across my rant to ask yourself

"Am I feeling frumpy because that is how I dress and act about myself?"

Then ask

"Do you dress your personality?" "Are you frumpy because you really are a dull boring person who doesn't care about your worth?"

Well you are just going to have to get over it, or as my mom would tell me "Well, that sounds like a PP, personal problem".

I am not going to be donning furs, or sporting the obnoxious skinny jean, but I am investing in myself.

To not have so many put downs, to wear clothes that fit well and to be proud of this somewhat mauled body of mine. And yes at a current heavier and less toned size I can buy a hot pair of jeans full price, why punish yourself for being what you are right now?

Sure I dont' have the perky emblems of pre baby, or the tummy of a teenager. I have been noticing wrinkles (which I am blaming on Andrew), but really Mariah get over yourself and enjoy what you have in life.

Because really in the end the Baby made me fat.

Proud point for me:

I don't wear board shorts to the beach anymore. I have for the past 13 years and it took having a baby less tone, more to squeeze into spandex, and a tummy scar to realize:

1. I am not that important that people need to look at me and snap pictures of my 'faults'
2. There is a good feeling that comes with being the only one in a one piece at the beach who isn't afraid of the snow white thighs. I am what I am.

Just when you thought it was over

2009-10-05T21:29:00.000-07:00

I had an epiphany the other day. I complain, sure. I endure, sure. But do I enjoy. Heck yes.

So Hubby and I have had this conversation about how life as changed, what we used to do. At times I really miss it. I miss working in heels all day, eating out and then going to the gym. Going to a late night movies and being able to buy pretty clothes on a regular basis.

Would I trade what I have now for something else? Some things I totally would, but I wouldn't ( and obviously) can't change what I have gained and learned.

Being a mommy and a wife has given me the opportunity to learn so much about myself. To learn (and continue to learn) to be less selfish. I have learned that sacraficing at times brings greater happiness.
Like when you decide not to have the second bowl of ice cream and the next day you can use the restroom and aren't all bloated--case and point.

I for a few months kept thinking "Is this the life I signed up for? Is this the life I willingly entered into?"

Obviously we don't know what the future will bring. I don't necessarily believe in fate. I do believe in following what you feel is right.

I look back at where I was and talking with my sister she mentioned what about 10 years ago. And I said, "Do you mean if ten years ago you told me I would be married with two kids and and 30lbs heavier before the age of 25?"

I wallowed a lot after Smandre was born. Besides depression and my personal version of "very gray days" I felt I had lost myself.

I have wallowed a bit after buggy was born and as I was sitting on the floor with hub watching little buggy smile and wiggle I began to cry. "My babies are growing up and it makes me sad"!

I never thought I would ever say that! I felt like I had two babies for the longest time. IT was at that moment that I realize I had grown a little, that I did sign up for this and dang it get over it.

That was my epiphany.

I signed up to be an at home mom. To do housework, play and care for the kids. I signed up to sacrifice my body for months at a time to house a little person who will enrich our family and someday someone else's.

I am happy that I signed up for it. It is a challenge, but dang it this is what I wanted--to be home.

Heck yes at times I grumble and scitter (is that even a word? If not I still like it) around the house in pj's and catch a glimpse of my fuller self and notice the dark circles, but I won't have this time again.

Just when you think its all over. That life as you know it has become too dull and boring. YOu realize. If you sit with your eyes closed weeping with self pity. You miss the beautiful colors that are constantly changing around you. Get over yourself, enjoy it, and jump into it. Nothing is ever as fun as a grumbling spectator.

Nightmare on Sesame street

2009-08-24T13:18:00.000-07:00

I'm hiding in the closet next to the stinky jeans that were hung back up after two weeks worth of wear. It is easy to hold my breath. I listen.

"raaaraaa raaa!"

Its still out there" I think to myself as I prepare my body for absolute obedience. I must not move. Make a sound. And whatever I do I can't let the fear escape my body's pores. They smell fear.

"Ladadaaadadada!!!!" It screams toward the closet door.

"I didn't leave a trail did I?" "It didn't see me go in here did it?" my heart has completely stopped beating because of panic. It must have forgotten how to pump blood because I feel my face go white as the door creeps open.

Ugh its breath reaks of milk and even hidden in the dark next to the dingy jeans I can smell it as its mouth opens again in my direction.

My eyes shut. This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't happening.

It will begin at any time to start eating spiders just like in the exorcism of Emily rose. It will contort its body right in front of me. Scowling and darkening its blue eyes to black and begin showing its teeth.

"One, two three four five six!" It hisses at me. My legs tighten closer together and in the process move a shoe that is on the floor next to me.

"Raaaaa. AHHHH! Uhhhhhhh!"

It finds me with its beady eyes and I immediately slump over. I am exhausted. My brain goes into survival mode. I lay my body in sacrafice in front of it.

I fantasize of the treatment I will receive after its done with me. I'll be hooked up to IV's of caffeine. Surrounded by half empy containers of spray whip cream. Dove chocolates will be taped to my wounds for healing and my pants will be unbuttoned so that all the sweet fluids can expand my body in the right way.

"Caaar", "Caaar" it says in a now more intelligible Boston accent.

I am slimed as it sits on top of me and drools, reading my pained expression of surrender. It rubs its face against my 'As of this morning' clean shirt and I hear the snot pull against the green fabric. "It actually thinks the color will camoflauge, maybe it is a hint of my poor taste in clothing" I think.

"You want to go in the Caaar Andrew?" I say while opening my eyes to him

"Caaaar"

"Me too....oh dear Andrew I love you and I think we need a vacation".

On a scale of 1-10 don't even ask

2009-08-19T20:41:00.000-07:00

After being saved by my Aunt once again (she had often rescued me with the two kids bringing nourishment from wendy's and a calming body to hold a crying baby). We got into a discussion about husbands and our lives.

We talked about the things you should never ask your husband. Like the questions that could just paint him into a corner where there may not be any right answer.

I avoid those questions and decided that if I didn't want anything, but a significantly honest answer I shouldn't ask it. Afterall, I married a very honest person who isn't what you call 'suave'.

Tonight thinking I am being flirtatious I ask him "do you think I am hot?" I know, I know. By the title of this post you probably know how this story is going to end. He replies "Yes". 1 point for correct answer. I say on a scale of one to ten. He says "I am not going to answer that because there is no right answer".

What? First of all me and my little mind thinks duh say "11"! And I tell him "11" would be the correct answer. He replies "you can't ask questions that you don't want to hear the honest answer. "

At this point I've started scowling and I think "Well, gosh I wish I was someone's 11!"

I sit here in my hand me down moomoo nightgown from my great grandmother from the sixties in synthetic mauve. Why the heck couldn't he just lie to me? I think it would have given him brownie points in heaven if he had.

Seriously, he would have gotten to the pearly white gates and Peter would have said "And what good deeds did you do to be able to enter paradise" and He would have replied proudly " I told my wife she was beautiful even though she hadn't showered in two days and had baby puke on her shirt and mascara smeared all over her face" "I told her she was super hot to me even though she meanders the house at night in a moomoo and last but not least..."

At this point Peter already so impressed leans forward in his walker making the tennis ball covered legs quiver under his excited grasp (You totally know ol' peter is a dinasour and has gotten arthritis from standing there for the past millenia)

He cranes his hooked neck and pushes his ear horn right up to my hsubands unshaven lips not wanting to miss this next good deed.

"When my wife was in labor and was walking around moaning practically nude with her hippo belly, in her hospital room, green headband pushed against her 3 month long roots I told her I had never seen a more beautiful women in the whole world"

"My dear son!" Peter creaks while wiping away tears--because of his cataracts not because of joy--"For all the white lies you told on earth you will have that many more pleasures in Heaven".

So me and my moomoo are still sulking l about our hurt ego's. Her's beause I am not wearing the fancy matching robe with fabric covered buttons, and me because I am not an 11 to the person I chose to marry for the rest of my existence. Humph.

I feel like I should put some curlers in my hair and start smoking a cigarette to finish off the whole tired mom look. If you came over to my house you would probably see more resemblence between me and Maxine then a fresh faced almost 25 year old.

True that I am not 19 anymore, that I am still working off my baby 'muscle' and that I have been known to sport a good inch of leg hair, but I still like to fantasize that what I present to my husband is that red haired college girl without stretch marks and tired eyes.

I would like to believe that I am wearing a full body mask of the girl I once was. And I realize that although a woman I am still a self conscious pre teen at times.

Either way I have learned my lesson.

Don't ask a question that could possibly be answered wrongly. More importantly, when asking a question remember the person your talking to.

Up, down, Up Down

2009-07-30T21:27:00.000-07:00

"Up".
"Down"
ahahaha
"Up". "WOW!"

"Down"." WOOOWWWW"

Its amazing how much joy and suffering you can feel for one small, but significant person. Andrew has been complaining in the back seat for the last 5 minutes. I totally know he is bored. I can't imagine having to get strapped in to a seat where my feet don't even touch the ground. Not to mention having a crying sister next to me.

We are in the IN N OUT drive thru line. My best mommy self has prescribed a night of fast mexican food and just to make sure our bones stay healthy and strong milkshakes from the coveted In N OUt burgers.

"Say up"

"Up!". "hahaha"

There was a time in my life ( that I sometimes relive) when I believed that it only took a pure heart be a good mom. Borrowing from the Beatles "All you need is love" is the only way to raise a child. Just kill them with kindness and they'll grow up loving you and themselves and never hit other children, never look you straight in your eyes and throw their plate of food on the ground (you can see how the list could continue on). No, a child reared with all the affection in the world their little hearts could hold would be just a little lamb.

Reality hit me hard the first week I try and nurse Andrew--it doesn't just come naturally to me. I pictured myself while pregnant running to my crying baby in my flowing, white silk gown (the most practical new mom outfit) I pick him up and he is immediatlely comforted by my sense of love and milk.

What I discovered after about 2 days of nursing was the fear/dread/panic of needing to nurse again. IT HURT! I would sit and cringe while he began eating. I would tap my foot and hum a song of comfort. I would think to myself, breath, breath, just breath.

I feel overwhelmed with joy for my little boy who is growing up like all kids do. Then there are glimpses in my mind, of me sitting on a beach listening to waves with a pina colada, calmly breathing in the soft humidity. My obligations are gone, I don't have diapers to change, messes to be cleaned up, and my clothes won't have any more spit stains. I dream of a vacation from mommy obligation. When I won't be needed anymore for things.

Andrew then began to pull off and scream when he was about 2 weeks old. His dad and I would try and burp him. He must have an air bubble, he didn't eat enough. One morning at 3am I called my parent's house on the brink of total crying breakdown "Andrew just cries and cries" I apologize for the hour and my dad responds "Thats okay thats why we are here". Mom gives me suggestions and says she knows how I feel just do the best we can.

We've just ordered and Andrew and I are splitting a chocolate shake, his dad gets a vanilla and buggy is still fussing in the back seat overly tired.

"Say down"
"down.""WOW!"

I still believe mothering is best when used with unconditional love. I haven't of coarse reached my ripe age of perfection to have required this--I still need quite a few more years on the shelf. However, I have learned that pain is unavoidable in the raising of kids. That just when you think you are too tired to change another diaper you are propped up by your kid needing his "poppy"* (which is andrewlation for puppy) a big ol' kiss.

I roll the window back up that is next to Andrew
"Down"
I roll the window down, this time without look at him
"HAhahaha"
Say "UP!"
"Up"
I roll the window back up.

Our bone reniforcers are ready at the window.

I am beginning to understand not only the reality of what is possible in mothering, but I am discovering that being a good mother takes more than the ushy gushies of love. It will take the rest of eternity.

It takes time to help entertain your unhappy toddler. Not just so you can keep your sanity in the metal kid cage, but because you will learn to love to do those things for them. It brings you joy.

"UP"

The aftermath of a baby

2009-03-31T13:18:00.000-07:00

I sit here right now in my fleece zip up, after prego jeans and nasty uggs. Yes, my hair is clean, my skin moisturized, and I am actually shaved.
Let me better explain. 15 months ago I was enjoying the first real snow storm in Utah. My size 6 fanny was seated directly on the futon my husband and I bought (our first family room piece) before he graduated from college. We had been in our fixer upper home for over a year and we were planning a trip to Italy. Now for a girl of 22 life was pretty darn good. Around let's say middle of December I conceived. The months following that hot and steamy event my body began expanding.
In little ways at first. My perfect little DD bras soon began to get too snug and when I woke up in the morning I felt as though someone had given me a titty twister. This did little to distract me from my expanding butt.

I know someone may read this and say, "Well, at least you were able to get pregnant"-, but I am not complaining about being pregnant and having an opportunity to help bring into the world a little person. I am simply complaining about the disgusting things it can do to your body. I often think of the quote from the line in the Lion King. "No body know's the trouble I've seen...nobody knows my sorrow". When my family first were clued in to my pregnancy my grandma reminded me, "Now, remember you aren't the only person who is pregnant or ever has been." That basically sums this whole shinanigins up.

I may not be the only one, but I am sure all the others can wallow with me for a little while about it. After getting over the shock of being pregnant (I mean for crying out loud my husband and I don't even sleep in the same beds! ) I began to feel excited for those pregnancy clothes. "Oh when, oh when will I be able to buy those cute tops and rub a cute round tummy?" Little did I know what was coming around the corner. "Little" is the word of focus here. There was not a little anything thing, except for a 'little' baby growing inside me that I imagined looking something between a hybrid seahorse and a frog. By the way, who ever said we evolved from apes? Has anyone ever investigated Frogs? I mean sperm looks like tadpoles right?
Anyways. It became perfectly clear that things were rounding out, when at about 16 weeks my 'fat' jeans came about to mid thigh. I had seen quite a few pregnant women in my life time. The ones with little round balls perfectly centered and balanced in the middle of their torso's and then the women who are repeatedly asked "Are you having twins?". I guess, I just always assumed that I would be one of the basketball belly moms. You know the toothpicks with the little altoid hanging in the middle. I don't know why I thought this. Those women were usually at least 5'7 w/ long legs and flat booties. I was 5'4 w/ dangerous curves-.

I remember the weighing of myself weekly, measuring how much I was supposed to gain--because I didn't want to be one of the popcorn moms--you know the before pregnancy women that conceives and puffs out like a kernel in an air popper? So I kept working out and watching what I ate. I read the "what to expect when expecting book" and nodded my head at the diet suggestions and told my husband how I wasn't going to be that stumpy mom who all of a sudden let herself go. I was better than that. I had class--for crying out loud I drive a used Honda!
I gibbered and jabbered to my vain heart's content. 15 months later all of this pre baby nonsense is sitting right on my butt and hips.

Babies are hard work. Keeping yourself from scowling is hard work and by Golly it is hard work getting a shower in while 24/7 being on call for the little person you helped conceive. For now my grooming methods will stay: Bathe 1 time daily, and brush teeth. Beyond that I don't think people should expect much from a new mom.