Have you ever felt like just saying “I’m done”? I don’t want to cook, clean, wipe, wash, explain, be patient or smile when I don’t feel like smiling. I am not a jungle gym or a pillow to be pushed and pulled until you’re comfortable. I am neither Martha Stewart nor Mother Teresa. There are some days when I want to say, “if I hear the words ‘why’ or ‘but’ one more time, I will lose what is left of my sanity.
Have you ever felt like you were not made to be this naturally charming, patient wife and mother? I remember living in Virginia and going to a friends house to pick something up. It was just before 5:00 and I walked in to see her in an apron, dinner on the stove, the dining room table completely set, and the children playing happily. I looked suspiciously around for some kind of external influence that was helping her – a little somethin’, somethin’ of this or that… maybe even a little NyQuil on the table dished out to the little ones. But no, there was nothing. She was really just that good at being a mom. And then she had her 4th and I thought for sure this would do her in, but to my selfish disappointment she was, yet again, ready and able for the challenge. She hosted a 4th of July party 2 weeks after she got home from the hospital!
I say 'selfish disappointment', because while the greater part of me was in awe with admiration and wonder, the small - totally immature - side of me wished to see someone else feel as inadequate as I do. I often think that when my children grow up to be amazing people, it will have had nothing to do with me. Honestly – my daughter is 15 months old and she has no idea how to use any kind of silverware yet. I first have to trust her to keep the food on her tray before I put a would-be weapon in her hands. And instead of just glowing at the fact that my son is so bright and inquisitive about every single thing that comes into his head – I find myself wishing that for just 30 seconds he would close that precious little mouth and learn to enjoy silence as much as I do. Or, when my daughter will not stop screaming in her very dramatic, poor-me, life-is-so-hard-when-someone-isn’t-stacking-blocks-for-me temper tantrum - I will do anything to stop the crying. If that means she gets an otter pop at 10:00 am – so be it.
The ‘good’ mom would sit with her son and answer any question his little mind can come up with and then go through the encyclopedia’s, A-Z, just in case he missed a topic. The ‘good’ mom would sit with her daughter and forget about her book or her project on the computer and would stack blocks for as long as was needed and then willingly move on to any other toy that captured the girl’s attention. And most of all, the ‘good’ mom and wife would fix healthy meals for when the husband gets home instead of ordering pizza, looking for anything frozen from Costco or pulling out the cereal and milk.
It’s funny how as a little girl I imagined being this amazing wife and a mother with patience to spare, and yet so often I’m finding myself just surviving one day at a time. Maybe the generation before me was really made up of these perfect women who excelled in their role as wife and mother. Or maybe, just maybe – as the selfish part of me wants to think – they struggled too, just never out loud. Who knows.
I guess today’s post is for those of you who find times where you just want a break. Some time away. A moment of peace and quiet - maybe even a chance to eat a meal while it’s still hot.
For those of you like me – I wish you luck in finding that much needed day off.
For those of you who have it all put together - may all your children get measles at once.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
so easily entertained
i really do love this age.
reagan played with this basket for about 45 minutes. it was so funny watching how entertained she was. if only we could all be so happy with the little things.
reagan played with this basket for about 45 minutes. it was so funny watching how entertained she was. if only we could all be so happy with the little things.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
*&@%# you resolutions
i have done a lot of dumb things in my life, but this one definitely takes the cake... no pun intended.
my new years resolution was to go this year without any kind of sweets/desserts/food for the soul (chocolate, of course), etc., etc. my hope was to lose at least some of the baby weight from Reagan *cough* and noah *cough*. i had come to the conclusion that even though i go to the gym 4-5 days a week, the brownies for breakfast and any other sweets i could find all day long were possibly hindering my efforts. so, i took the plunge and quit cold turkey. (thankfully, aaron decided to do this with me - i could never have done it alone this long)
as i'm now approaching my 6th week of no sweets i have found it's getting harder, not easier. life without desserts sucks. instead of sweets i'm trying to eat healthy, but it's just not the same wallowing with a bowl of steamed carrots without butter. really, without butter? what's the point. then they just taste like mushy carrots. if i have to eat healthy veggies, at least let me slather them with butter and salt. curse you fat grams!!! when it comes down to it - there is simply no satisfaction in emotionally eating when it won't stick to my thighs.
that being said, i decided to write a little poem about my 'no sweets' journey...
ODE TO DESSERTS
in sad times or good times you were always there.
you gave all you could, so willing to share.
each calorie you gave, hit just the right spot -
and gave me comfort - where carrots could not.
each treat was unique in it's own special way.
whether chocolate chips from the fridge or something gourmet.
especially at times when i was an emotional mess,
i could always count on sweets to help with the stress.
but here is were my tale turns quite tragic.
i discovered my metabolism did not work like magic.
brownies, cookies, ice cream, cakes and pies,
while gave me happiness, went straight to my thighs.
was it worth that extra brownie or two (or four)
if i would have to turn sideways to get through the door?
cause this was the path my life was on
as i realized my waistline was definitely gone.
in desperation i set a date,
when no more sweets i would take.
it's been sad and hard, but i've held my grounds,
and as a result i've lost 12 pounds.
just so you know, to be perfectly clear -
my resolution is only this year.
i may loose more weight, healthy food may have won
but come january 1st, i'll enjoy undoing all i have done.
my new years resolution was to go this year without any kind of sweets/desserts/food for the soul (chocolate, of course), etc., etc. my hope was to lose at least some of the baby weight from Reagan *cough* and noah *cough*. i had come to the conclusion that even though i go to the gym 4-5 days a week, the brownies for breakfast and any other sweets i could find all day long were possibly hindering my efforts. so, i took the plunge and quit cold turkey. (thankfully, aaron decided to do this with me - i could never have done it alone this long)
as i'm now approaching my 6th week of no sweets i have found it's getting harder, not easier. life without desserts sucks. instead of sweets i'm trying to eat healthy, but it's just not the same wallowing with a bowl of steamed carrots without butter. really, without butter? what's the point. then they just taste like mushy carrots. if i have to eat healthy veggies, at least let me slather them with butter and salt. curse you fat grams!!! when it comes down to it - there is simply no satisfaction in emotionally eating when it won't stick to my thighs.
that being said, i decided to write a little poem about my 'no sweets' journey...
ODE TO DESSERTS
in sad times or good times you were always there.
you gave all you could, so willing to share.
each calorie you gave, hit just the right spot -
and gave me comfort - where carrots could not.
each treat was unique in it's own special way.
whether chocolate chips from the fridge or something gourmet.
especially at times when i was an emotional mess,
i could always count on sweets to help with the stress.
but here is were my tale turns quite tragic.
i discovered my metabolism did not work like magic.
brownies, cookies, ice cream, cakes and pies,
while gave me happiness, went straight to my thighs.
was it worth that extra brownie or two (or four)
if i would have to turn sideways to get through the door?
cause this was the path my life was on
as i realized my waistline was definitely gone.
in desperation i set a date,
when no more sweets i would take.
it's been sad and hard, but i've held my grounds,
and as a result i've lost 12 pounds.
just so you know, to be perfectly clear -
my resolution is only this year.
i may loose more weight, healthy food may have won
but come january 1st, i'll enjoy undoing all i have done.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
well that was weird
i had an odd morning a few weeks ago and since then have had a few people ask me if i was going to post it on my blog or not. i debated writing about it because there's so much of it i don't remember - but in the end, i figured i'd tell you what i could and link you to the rest of the story.
It was Inauguration morning. I'm sitting on my couch and i start to not feel very well. i don't know how to describe it, kind of like feeling that something just wasn't right. my head felt really fuzzy, my heart was pounding and i just felt funny inside. it was alarming enough that i had the thought to call aaron and tell him that something was wrong. At this point i looked around the room and realized Noah wasn't there with me. I started calling for him and running around the house looking for him. As i realized he wasn't in the house i started to panic. i tried to think of where he could be or what we had been doing but my mind was... blank. i called aaron in a panic and told him i couldn't find noah. he asked if he was at my friends house (we'll call her "Megan") because i had told him earlier i would be over there. not giving it a second thought, i grabbed reagan and drove over to megans'. (i should note that she lives 4 houses away - but in an emergency, a car seemed faster then walking with a one-year old.)
By now I'm crying and am in a total panic as i knock on Megan's door.
bits of this part are blurry, but i believe the conversation went something like this:
Me: Is Noah here?
Megan: (with a confused look) yes. you just left him here a few minutes ago.
Me: (more confused then Megan and much more scared) what? i just left him here? i was here?
Megan: Brenda, you left here about 15 minutes ago. you spent the morning here.
Me: What?
Megan: I think you should come and sit down.
Apparently, i had spent the past few hours of that morning with Megan and her girls and had left to change Reagans diaper. I left Noah there to play. But, I have no memory of that morning. i have no memory of being at Megan's house or talking with her girls. the morning was completely gone from my memory. at some point i do remember my father-in-law showing up to take the kids and shortly after Aaron came. I vaguely remember sitting by Megan on her couch (she claims there was some petting of her hair going on... i guess i should be grateful it stopped there)
the last memory i have at her house is standing by the door while aaron is saying something about an insta-care. while he's talking her oldest daughter walks in the room and i remember hugging her and telling her how good it was to see her. at this point aaron says he's going to take me to the hospital - evidently she had been in the room a few minutes before and i had been hugging her and telling her the same thing then.
so, from here, my memory is much more stable. we get to the hospital and they take me right in. by far the most embarrassing moment (if you don't count the petting with Megan, but i don't remember that so it doesn't really count) is sitting on the bed trying to convince the nurse i wasn't on drugs.
nurse: what pills have you taken this morning?
me: i don't know, i don't remember. but if it was anything it would be my bc and an ibuprofen.
nurse: ok... is there ANYTHING else you could have taken?
me: No.
nurse: look, we're not going to tell the police, but we need to know so we can do our jobs.
me: seriously, i'm not on drugs. i really didn't take anything.
nurse looks me up and down with a doubtful look
aaron: (seeing the nurse look at me) she went to the gym this morning.
at this point i look down and see my gym clothes next to aaron (i was in a lovely hospital gown) and realize what i must look like. my exposed legs had not been shaved for about 2 weeks (totally gross, i know, but it's winter - come on), i had yesterdays make-up smeared on my eyes and my hair was plastered to my head in all sorts of unflattering ways (i'd been wearing a hat all morning, but evidently they made me take it off).
me: i know i look bad, but really, i don't do drugs
aaron: besides, we can't afford 'em.
by now the neurologist has come in and after hearing me tell what happened says he's 99% sure i had what is called Global Transient Amnesia.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/transient-global-amnesia/DS01022
this is where the person looses about 6 hours of their memory. one minute they're fine and the next they have no memory of what they've been doing. there are many symptoms to it - one being a "powerful expression of emotion" (which would explain the hugging and petting of Megan)
after the MRI came back clean (no stroke) the doctor officially diagnosed me with GTA and said i'd be fine. apparently, it's a very rare occurrence and never happens twice.
the doctor said it can happen from a hit to the head, a major trauma or it does come in the form of a migraine. he suspects because i'd been having a lot of headaches as of late that the latter reason was most likely.
i think, due to the timing, it was because of a major trauma. democrats officially taking over - very traumatic indeed...
even though some of my closest friends are democrat.
i even like Obama
My friend, Megan, has posted the experience on her blog for those of you who'd like to hear more of the details from that morning.... from her point of view. (no matter what she says about the whole "petting" incident - i think she liked it) http://3greenwoodgirls.blogspot.com/2009/02/well-that-was-weird.html
It was Inauguration morning. I'm sitting on my couch and i start to not feel very well. i don't know how to describe it, kind of like feeling that something just wasn't right. my head felt really fuzzy, my heart was pounding and i just felt funny inside. it was alarming enough that i had the thought to call aaron and tell him that something was wrong. At this point i looked around the room and realized Noah wasn't there with me. I started calling for him and running around the house looking for him. As i realized he wasn't in the house i started to panic. i tried to think of where he could be or what we had been doing but my mind was... blank. i called aaron in a panic and told him i couldn't find noah. he asked if he was at my friends house (we'll call her "Megan") because i had told him earlier i would be over there. not giving it a second thought, i grabbed reagan and drove over to megans'. (i should note that she lives 4 houses away - but in an emergency, a car seemed faster then walking with a one-year old.)
By now I'm crying and am in a total panic as i knock on Megan's door.
bits of this part are blurry, but i believe the conversation went something like this:
Me: Is Noah here?
Megan: (with a confused look) yes. you just left him here a few minutes ago.
Me: (more confused then Megan and much more scared) what? i just left him here? i was here?
Megan: Brenda, you left here about 15 minutes ago. you spent the morning here.
Me: What?
Megan: I think you should come and sit down.
Apparently, i had spent the past few hours of that morning with Megan and her girls and had left to change Reagans diaper. I left Noah there to play. But, I have no memory of that morning. i have no memory of being at Megan's house or talking with her girls. the morning was completely gone from my memory. at some point i do remember my father-in-law showing up to take the kids and shortly after Aaron came. I vaguely remember sitting by Megan on her couch (she claims there was some petting of her hair going on... i guess i should be grateful it stopped there)
the last memory i have at her house is standing by the door while aaron is saying something about an insta-care. while he's talking her oldest daughter walks in the room and i remember hugging her and telling her how good it was to see her. at this point aaron says he's going to take me to the hospital - evidently she had been in the room a few minutes before and i had been hugging her and telling her the same thing then.
so, from here, my memory is much more stable. we get to the hospital and they take me right in. by far the most embarrassing moment (if you don't count the petting with Megan, but i don't remember that so it doesn't really count) is sitting on the bed trying to convince the nurse i wasn't on drugs.
nurse: what pills have you taken this morning?
me: i don't know, i don't remember. but if it was anything it would be my bc and an ibuprofen.
nurse: ok... is there ANYTHING else you could have taken?
me: No.
nurse: look, we're not going to tell the police, but we need to know so we can do our jobs.
me: seriously, i'm not on drugs. i really didn't take anything.
nurse looks me up and down with a doubtful look
aaron: (seeing the nurse look at me) she went to the gym this morning.
at this point i look down and see my gym clothes next to aaron (i was in a lovely hospital gown) and realize what i must look like. my exposed legs had not been shaved for about 2 weeks (totally gross, i know, but it's winter - come on), i had yesterdays make-up smeared on my eyes and my hair was plastered to my head in all sorts of unflattering ways (i'd been wearing a hat all morning, but evidently they made me take it off).
me: i know i look bad, but really, i don't do drugs
aaron: besides, we can't afford 'em.
by now the neurologist has come in and after hearing me tell what happened says he's 99% sure i had what is called Global Transient Amnesia.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/transient-global-amnesia/DS01022
this is where the person looses about 6 hours of their memory. one minute they're fine and the next they have no memory of what they've been doing. there are many symptoms to it - one being a "powerful expression of emotion" (which would explain the hugging and petting of Megan)
after the MRI came back clean (no stroke) the doctor officially diagnosed me with GTA and said i'd be fine. apparently, it's a very rare occurrence and never happens twice.
the doctor said it can happen from a hit to the head, a major trauma or it does come in the form of a migraine. he suspects because i'd been having a lot of headaches as of late that the latter reason was most likely.
i think, due to the timing, it was because of a major trauma. democrats officially taking over - very traumatic indeed...
even though some of my closest friends are democrat.
i even like Obama
My friend, Megan, has posted the experience on her blog for those of you who'd like to hear more of the details from that morning.... from her point of view. (no matter what she says about the whole "petting" incident - i think she liked it) http://3greenwoodgirls.blogspot.com/2009/02/well-that-was-weird.html
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
perfectly good reasons
i know it seems crazy, but i have good reasons.
being the neurotic mother that i am, which is something i've never denied, i felt it was necessary to get noah his own cell phone.
(pausing while most of you roll your eyes and the rest of you verbally mock me. go ahead, get it all out of your system)
ok then, when noah started 1st grade we let him walk home with some of his friends. it's just under 1/2 a mile and in a safe neighborhood. for me to follow him home from a distance would not have gone over well with these very independent children. but the crazy thoughts that ran through my head while he was walking home were bordering obnoxious - even for me. too often they would be 5-10 minutes late getting home, for various reasons: stopping to tie shoes and becoming distracted with a line of ants, arguing about who's in charge of the group and being unable to walk and argue at the same time - or simply sitting down half-way home to take a break. whatever the reason - i decided i couldn't handle wondering what was going on when they were running behind.
so, i convinced aaron the best solution was to get noah a glorified walkie-talkie... aka: a cell phone. to my credit - i did look into the kind that just has four programmable buttons, but it was cheaper to just add a line to our cell phone plan. to say the least, noah loved the idea of having his own phone. shockingly - it went straight to his head. i pulled up one day after school to find Emma (his carpool buddy) holding his backpack for him. i asked him what was going on and his response was "i have a cell phone now and i need to have my hands free to answer it".
yeah - that didn't go over well. thankfully, noah now understands two important things - 1. he does not have girls carry his back pack. 2. the phone does not come out of the back pack unless there's an emergency. sad noah. grateful emma.
as for reagan getting a cell phone when she turns 6... definitely. along with some mace, a panic button of some sorts and maybe even a taser gun for good measure. aaron has already ordered his night vision goggles for when she starts to date.
being the neurotic mother that i am, which is something i've never denied, i felt it was necessary to get noah his own cell phone.
(pausing while most of you roll your eyes and the rest of you verbally mock me. go ahead, get it all out of your system)
ok then, when noah started 1st grade we let him walk home with some of his friends. it's just under 1/2 a mile and in a safe neighborhood. for me to follow him home from a distance would not have gone over well with these very independent children. but the crazy thoughts that ran through my head while he was walking home were bordering obnoxious - even for me. too often they would be 5-10 minutes late getting home, for various reasons: stopping to tie shoes and becoming distracted with a line of ants, arguing about who's in charge of the group and being unable to walk and argue at the same time - or simply sitting down half-way home to take a break. whatever the reason - i decided i couldn't handle wondering what was going on when they were running behind.
so, i convinced aaron the best solution was to get noah a glorified walkie-talkie... aka: a cell phone. to my credit - i did look into the kind that just has four programmable buttons, but it was cheaper to just add a line to our cell phone plan. to say the least, noah loved the idea of having his own phone. shockingly - it went straight to his head. i pulled up one day after school to find Emma (his carpool buddy) holding his backpack for him. i asked him what was going on and his response was "i have a cell phone now and i need to have my hands free to answer it".
yeah - that didn't go over well. thankfully, noah now understands two important things - 1. he does not have girls carry his back pack. 2. the phone does not come out of the back pack unless there's an emergency. sad noah. grateful emma.
as for reagan getting a cell phone when she turns 6... definitely. along with some mace, a panic button of some sorts and maybe even a taser gun for good measure. aaron has already ordered his night vision goggles for when she starts to date.
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