Ever notice how some women are all prim and proper - and others just let it all hang out?! So - i was thinking about this the other day - trying to figure out what makes us one way or the other - and here's what i came up with!
First of all, I think it depends on how many kids you have had - i mean - let's be honest. With every prego adventure, we are slapping our swollen ankles (with nothing but the paper sheet and socks on) up into the stir-ups over and over again. and, just to keep it real - it's important to point out that towards the end, we can't even see what the Vajayjay doctor sees - this is some major trust we have granted! And, further more, at some point or another during this most invasive adventure of fetus growing, we just seem to throw our hands in the air and give up on the grooming issue - unless your Mr. Right is really willing and loving - and you feel like throwing that out there. So, here we are, larger than we ever thought we could possibly be, basically like a turtle (if you end up flat on your back at this point - you are, very possibly, stuck!) and we head to the hospital, willing to do just about ANYTHING to not be pregnant anymore - ( if someone had told us, nine months prior, that at some point, towards the end, if someone gave us the choice to be thrown into labor, and all the blood, sweat, and tears that involves - OR - go home and wait one more day. . . and then we were told that we would unequivocally choose labor - NOW! - we would have thought that person had been hit one too many times with the cuckoo stick!) But, on we go, toward labor, the place where we will lose all sense of privacy. So, this, i think, is where the number of kids we have comes into play with the whole prim and proper or not theme. The more times we do this, the more we let go of this theme of keeping it all pulled together for the outside world. And eventually, this seeps out into every aspect of our lives. It starts little. One of our friends rides in our car somewhere. . . and we choose not to pick it up first. Or, we know our mother in law is stopping by, and we no longer kill our self to make the house and kids look perfect. But from here - watch our sista - welcome to the spiral effect! the visiting teachers pop in, at 4 pm, and we answer the door in jammies with spit up on them - and heaven forbid they ask to come in - cuz, they are about to wade their way through laundry to find a seat - and then, you think you will be clever, and pull off "mom of the year", and say something like, "i was just building tunnels with the kids. . . with all .. . this laundry. . " and it is too late, because now, instead of looking like a busy and exhausted mother, you are a busy exhausted mother telling little white lies! Ugh! and so it is - Here are your choices during motherhood: 1) Try to pull off Prim and Proper, OR 2) Throw your fat ankles up in those stir-ups, and say "Have at it, Doc." - and remember - this season, too, will pass. :)
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Turtle
So, i have this thing - where when life gets to be just too much (laundry piling up, my babies in to everything, the dog potty training - or lack thereof, my 2 year old potty training etc. etc. etc.!) - anyway - i have this thing where is just "shell up" and shut down. I don't answer my phone - i don't return calls - i don't go out - except for my daily run to Sonic for a route 44 diet coke w/ lime. . . that's just a given. Those closest to me can see this coming before i do. In fact, my sis and my bff will totally call it before it really hits. There is no reason to be offended - its just part of my package.:) Everyone has a package i've decided. Maybe not a morning person, maybe an over-saturated person, maybe a shopaholic, a gotta have salt person, gotta have chocolate person, a gotta have a DC w/ lime person - okay, so this is basically all in my package - but - whatever! Don't judge Mama - love mama. :) Anyway - the other day, my bff gave my package a name: Turtle. And that is it - she hit the nail on the head - I "shell up, and shut down." And those closest to me know, that i will resurface, and life will continue with RT and loud laughter. . . until i shell up again.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
I'm not old enough to drive a minivan
When we discovered we were pregnant with our 3rd, we knew it was time increase our car's holding capacity. Now, for most, three kids can fit in any car - but, we are not most. We are that crazy couple, that had their first 3 kids in 3 years. That's right - our 3rd baby was due on - -none other than - our first daughters 3rd birthday. which also happened to be December 19. Well, she came on December 26 - so, Savannah was a whopping 3 years and 7 days old,and Mason was 14 months old. Clearly, our regular sized car would not fit three 5 point harness carseats across the back seat. So, we were in the market for a new car. a bigger car. About two weeks before we had Gracie, my husband calls and says he has found it. He wants me to go with him to pick it up after work tonight. I knew this day was coming. We had discussed it - and i knew this was the smartest move, with three babies, and getting 3 carseats buckled and unbuckled, loaded and unloaded - and another C-Section delivery around the corner - it just made sense. We would get a minivan.
It was nice. Basically new - in great condition. Silver with grey interior. A few bells and whistles. I tried to be excited. We bought it, he handed me the keys, and said, "Ok babe, see you at home." I cried the whole way home. No matter how i turned it - i just did not feel "hot" in that minivan!! Lets be honest - I did not even feel semi cute. Is this spoiled? Yeah, probably. But, i'm just keepin' it real, ladies.
And so it was. For the next 4 years, we took that minivan everywhere. It took a serious beating. Bottles, sippy cups, fries, chicken nuggets, a few sick kids - sticky crap in the tracks beneath the seats - which became a magnet to every crumb or morsel that was dropped. Filthy? Yes, filthy. The silver minivan eventually became known affectionately as "Wilbur". What's a Wilbur? Lets examine this. Its a He. He is old, for sure. He is loyal, basic. Does he have a smell? Yeah, i would say that when you say the name "Wilbur" - it conjures up a certain smell in your mind - like grandpa cologne. . . maybe Old Spice. He's a good egg, for sure. But, he's not picking you up and taking you out dancing or for a night on the town! And even though "Wilbur" makes you think of a tall, skinny guy - he's kind of hunched over - and its easy to be frumpy around him - cuz he doesn't try to "keep up with the Jones' - he doesn't even know the Jones'."
So - Fast forward to December of 2007. Since we bought Wilbur, we have added another child to the mix, and are in fact pregnant with yet another. Wilbur can handle this. Two of my kids are old enough, that having 3 across the back row of the van no longer creates a car seat dilemma. But, i have grown tired of Wilbur. I to be taken out on the town. I want to pull up to a stop light and think the guy looking at me is thinking, "she's cute" - even if he really is just looking at one of my kids in the seat behind me sticking out their tongue at him - in my world, I'm cute right then! So, i say to my hubby, "Babe, I need a cute car - I am too young to drive a minivan!" And he says, "Yeah, but you are probably also too young to have 5 kids!" So much for sympathy.
Two weeks later, my husband arrives home and honks in the driveway. The Kiddos and I walk outside. . . and there she is: Shakira. She is hot. She is not waiting to be taken dancing - she is the dancer! She is gold with leather (I had never had leather before in a car). She has every bell and whistle. I don't know anything about rims, except for she has sweet ones! Lol! Oh my good gravy - mama is going dancing tonight! The kids and I all load up in our jammies and drive up to my BFF's house (a quarter mile away - big trip!) and lay on the horn til' she comes out! She shares in my bliss! And then it hits both of us - What about Wilbur? Eww. I feel like I'm cheating on him. And then, reality sets in: it's just a car. They are all just cars. But still. . . i feel cuter in this car. :)
It was nice. Basically new - in great condition. Silver with grey interior. A few bells and whistles. I tried to be excited. We bought it, he handed me the keys, and said, "Ok babe, see you at home." I cried the whole way home. No matter how i turned it - i just did not feel "hot" in that minivan!! Lets be honest - I did not even feel semi cute. Is this spoiled? Yeah, probably. But, i'm just keepin' it real, ladies.
And so it was. For the next 4 years, we took that minivan everywhere. It took a serious beating. Bottles, sippy cups, fries, chicken nuggets, a few sick kids - sticky crap in the tracks beneath the seats - which became a magnet to every crumb or morsel that was dropped. Filthy? Yes, filthy. The silver minivan eventually became known affectionately as "Wilbur". What's a Wilbur? Lets examine this. Its a He. He is old, for sure. He is loyal, basic. Does he have a smell? Yeah, i would say that when you say the name "Wilbur" - it conjures up a certain smell in your mind - like grandpa cologne. . . maybe Old Spice. He's a good egg, for sure. But, he's not picking you up and taking you out dancing or for a night on the town! And even though "Wilbur" makes you think of a tall, skinny guy - he's kind of hunched over - and its easy to be frumpy around him - cuz he doesn't try to "keep up with the Jones' - he doesn't even know the Jones'."
So - Fast forward to December of 2007. Since we bought Wilbur, we have added another child to the mix, and are in fact pregnant with yet another. Wilbur can handle this. Two of my kids are old enough, that having 3 across the back row of the van no longer creates a car seat dilemma. But, i have grown tired of Wilbur. I to be taken out on the town. I want to pull up to a stop light and think the guy looking at me is thinking, "she's cute" - even if he really is just looking at one of my kids in the seat behind me sticking out their tongue at him - in my world, I'm cute right then! So, i say to my hubby, "Babe, I need a cute car - I am too young to drive a minivan!" And he says, "Yeah, but you are probably also too young to have 5 kids!" So much for sympathy.
Two weeks later, my husband arrives home and honks in the driveway. The Kiddos and I walk outside. . . and there she is: Shakira. She is hot. She is not waiting to be taken dancing - she is the dancer! She is gold with leather (I had never had leather before in a car). She has every bell and whistle. I don't know anything about rims, except for she has sweet ones! Lol! Oh my good gravy - mama is going dancing tonight! The kids and I all load up in our jammies and drive up to my BFF's house (a quarter mile away - big trip!) and lay on the horn til' she comes out! She shares in my bliss! And then it hits both of us - What about Wilbur? Eww. I feel like I'm cheating on him. And then, reality sets in: it's just a car. They are all just cars. But still. . . i feel cuter in this car. :)
Life's Not Fair!!
So - in my head, i saw this weekend going so different. As the New Year rolled in, i committed to making some MAJOR changes - for the benefit of our humble home. I wrote up a schedule - morning routine, after school routine, evening routine. . . broken into the tasks that needed to be accomplished - in some cases, every 15 minutes (am i on crack?! Seriously? Seriously.) I felt re-newed - a new year, a new me, a new family - yada, yada, yada. The first day, Monday - went pretty well. The kids were embracing it - excited even. (My husband, always the realist in our little group, warned that i might be biting off a little more than i could chew (and here's me: don't be so negative honey - have a little faith. . . ) - you all know where this is headed right? It's like being on a train - a super speed train, and up ahead, you can see that the track just ends - just stops - and in your head, you're thinking, surely, by the time we get there, new track will just appear. And here's the worst part - BEFORE you got on the train, the conductor was all, "hey lady, you are gonna be going along at super speed, and then the track is just gonna end. Nobody is building the rest of that track right now. There will be a huge crash at the end of your little trip if you board. . . don't get on this train!" And you look at him and say.: "Ugh - don't be so negative. . . have a little faith". :) Oh, AND - you really prepared to take this trip - i mean, you put in the time to do all the girls hair, and their luggage matches, and you even made matching bows - you know - the kind that cost like 10 bucks a piece? Well, you made em. And, for once, you even feel like you look pretty cute - like, this trip is an answer for you. Well, i don't want to burst the bubble - but i mean - this can only end badly. (Anyone notice how I have turned this around into a segment where i am giving some poor mama a huge helping of excellent advice instead of admitting this is just my story - i'm the poor mama?! Don't know how we got here - gotta be my "mom adhd"! So, i set this plan into action. Get up, work out, get showered. get dressed. (And if its gonna be sweats, atleast make it be your boyfriends from Vickies (Boyfriend sweats from Victoria Secret) - there's no affair here. . . seriously. . i know there are women who do this - but i need another person to take care of like i need a hole in my head - this is madness! Anyway - get dressed. Kids up at 8 - help them make beds, get dressed - down to shoes - so they can take Tank on a walk. When they come back, we will have breakfast. While they eat, i will read them the scriptures - which we will pleasantly discuss. After breakfast, do hair, brush teeth, mouthwash - to protect their pearlies all day - and load the suburban (Shakira - more on that in the mini van post) by 9. Drop off at school by 9:05 - this is on time - my kids are on a later gator track - thank heavens thats an option! This is good on paper, right? Let me toss you a play by play in real life:
I'm up at 6. Heading down to work out on my treadmill (cant go to the gym this week, because I'm on a colon cleanse - too scared to risk being stuck at Golds' in the bathroom - more on the cleanse in a later post!) Just got a new "safety key" from my treadmill company, because last time i used my treadmill, i put the key in "a safe place" - which turned out to be so safe in fact - that i cannot find it! So, for the bargain price of $34, I now have a new plastic safety key (my treadmill doesn't turn on without it). So, i am armed with my new key, my water bottle, my ipod and ear phones, my gum - i am ready - I'm bringing sexy back! I get on my treadmill, I'm feeling strong, increasing speed - and it just STOPS. ERRR. i almost fall because it stops so fast. After searching, well, waking my husband - we discover that the treadmill tripped the socket. Whew. just push the button and start again. I do. It screeches to a stop, again. This time i DO fall - and a few words fall from my mouth. I do this 2 more times - until finally, i go fish out an outdoor extension cord from the garage ( those orange ones) plug one section in upstairs, haul it downstairs and plug in the other end - and Voila - it works. By now, it is almost 7 - i am way behind schedule - but i am on a path - i will not be deterred! I finish my workout, head up to chug down my cleanse shake - sicko - and head upstairs to wake my kiddos. Up up!! Everyone up! I open blinds - which is followed by huge protests. I help make beds, we head downstairs, get shoes on - i hand them the leash - and Gracie, my 6 year old - has a melt down - on the floor. "I don't want to take Tank out, its too cold - i hate the new plan - why can't you do it? (to get this right - you really must whine in your head - my kids are totally fluent in "whinese"). But, i don't want to be "mom with a loud voice" (as my BFF calls it) - so, i stay calm. "Okay, Savannah and Mason, would you mind taking Tank on your own today?" which is amazingly met with, "ok mom". Ahh. Sweet Succatash. SUCCESS. So, they go take the dog, and i make breakfast, and we do scriptures - and I'm thinking "i told you so, honey" - and then i ask them what we read. No clue. They have no clue. That's okay - lets brush teeth. Savannah's toothbrush feels hard - she is sure someone has used it. To which i say - "Oh yeah - there's been this guy on the news that apparently breaks into people's houses at night and uses kids toothbrushes" - which is met with rolling eyes, and an annoyed "Hmf." Could i have been more sensitive? Ok - maybe. And this whole time, in my head, i am thinking,"this is not how I saw this going!" We did make it to school on time - so there's the silver lining! We don't have a "Kodak Moments" life - it just is what it is. Even when i give it my all. It's real. Better luck tomorrow.
I'm up at 6. Heading down to work out on my treadmill (cant go to the gym this week, because I'm on a colon cleanse - too scared to risk being stuck at Golds' in the bathroom - more on the cleanse in a later post!) Just got a new "safety key" from my treadmill company, because last time i used my treadmill, i put the key in "a safe place" - which turned out to be so safe in fact - that i cannot find it! So, for the bargain price of $34, I now have a new plastic safety key (my treadmill doesn't turn on without it). So, i am armed with my new key, my water bottle, my ipod and ear phones, my gum - i am ready - I'm bringing sexy back! I get on my treadmill, I'm feeling strong, increasing speed - and it just STOPS. ERRR. i almost fall because it stops so fast. After searching, well, waking my husband - we discover that the treadmill tripped the socket. Whew. just push the button and start again. I do. It screeches to a stop, again. This time i DO fall - and a few words fall from my mouth. I do this 2 more times - until finally, i go fish out an outdoor extension cord from the garage ( those orange ones) plug one section in upstairs, haul it downstairs and plug in the other end - and Voila - it works. By now, it is almost 7 - i am way behind schedule - but i am on a path - i will not be deterred! I finish my workout, head up to chug down my cleanse shake - sicko - and head upstairs to wake my kiddos. Up up!! Everyone up! I open blinds - which is followed by huge protests. I help make beds, we head downstairs, get shoes on - i hand them the leash - and Gracie, my 6 year old - has a melt down - on the floor. "I don't want to take Tank out, its too cold - i hate the new plan - why can't you do it? (to get this right - you really must whine in your head - my kids are totally fluent in "whinese"). But, i don't want to be "mom with a loud voice" (as my BFF calls it) - so, i stay calm. "Okay, Savannah and Mason, would you mind taking Tank on your own today?" which is amazingly met with, "ok mom". Ahh. Sweet Succatash. SUCCESS. So, they go take the dog, and i make breakfast, and we do scriptures - and I'm thinking "i told you so, honey" - and then i ask them what we read. No clue. They have no clue. That's okay - lets brush teeth. Savannah's toothbrush feels hard - she is sure someone has used it. To which i say - "Oh yeah - there's been this guy on the news that apparently breaks into people's houses at night and uses kids toothbrushes" - which is met with rolling eyes, and an annoyed "Hmf." Could i have been more sensitive? Ok - maybe. And this whole time, in my head, i am thinking,"this is not how I saw this going!" We did make it to school on time - so there's the silver lining! We don't have a "Kodak Moments" life - it just is what it is. Even when i give it my all. It's real. Better luck tomorrow.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Seasons of motherhood
There was a time - not too long ago - that i had things pretty organized as far as my home and family goes! we had three kiddos, 2 girls and 1 boy - and i dare say we had a system - a method to the madness. FAST FORWARD to 2 more babies, both girls, and, yes, a puppy (there's the boy) - lets total that - cuz its my life - and I'm confused!! - so, now we have five kiddy poos - ages 9,7,6,2, and 10 months, and a 4 month old puppy! The line up goes: girl, boy, girl, girl, girl, and boy (dog). Oh my stinkin' heaven! Are ya with me?! So, now, it is just basically complete chaos - to put it gently! And i have found myself on this path to somehow find structure and organization in our lives once again - did i mention there is a home business thrown in there too?! I have read, and investigated all kinds of systems. I have spent money, honey (sidebar - does anyone else LOVE LOVE LOVE Mama Mia?! - you should also know i have what i lovingly call "Mom ADHD" - and it is just that - a million thoughts all at once trying to make their way out of me in some sort of organized manner - i am convinced this is a direct side effect from all the multi-tasking that we do as mothers!) Moving on- I have spent money on countless programs, promising to bring my home order and calm - and does anyone really believe that's gonna happen during this exact "season" in my life?! I'll tell you, that's a big, fat Negative, Good Buddy! So, here i am, committed to embrace this season, instead of fight it - and in the process, maybe, just maybe, i will find the peace and joy i am looking for in our home thru the little things each day. . .
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