Mom Seeks Actual Life

After a recent visit from a childhood friend (not married and no children) I began to question who the hell I am. I was asked several normal questions about interests, locations to go out, time alone, etc. and I honestly did not know what to say. I really felt like I could not answer anything about myself other than kid stats....who sleeps when and how much, challenging poop related situations, stain removal 101, tantrums, and other such child related information.

After her departure I felt crushed about my lack of self and motivated to get off my ass and do something.

In the five days that followed her departure I accomplished the following:

1. Spent two-three solid days feeling sorry for myself and regretting the birth of my kids.
2. Wrote my admissions essay to grad school.
3. Visited 3 gyms to decide where to join.
4. Planned a girl's night.
5. Shopped for myself.
6. Ran - twice!

In next five days after those accomplishments I have done the following:

1. Decided I like my life and my kids are pretty cool most of the time.
2. Avoided proofing and finalizing my grad school essay.
3. Decided a gym sounds like a big commitment.
4. Cancelled girl's night due to sick child.
5. Returned all fun purchases due to lack of places to wear cute, fun clothes and lack of funds to afford them unless I sacrifice diapers.
6. Basked in the glory of two good runs, feeling a little sore, a little fit, and a little lazy about doing it again. Thank God I have those kids to use as a good excuse.

Seriously....Go to Sleep

Here is the thing, I just want to go to sleep. I don't see why this is such an issue. Ever since my first son was born I feel that sleep is the single most important factor in whether or not I will lose my shit the next day. Lack of sleep will lead to me becoming mentally unhinged. Why don't babies and toddlers just go to bed and sleep all night? Does God hate mother's? Is this some sort of cruel pledgeship that we must go through?

I hear through the grapevine that sleeping all night does actually happen for some people but I refuse to believe that this is actually true because it just fills me with rage that other kids sleep and mine don't. I actually feel anger toward my baby in the middle of the night while he is screaming. Is that maternal? Is that safe?

I think I might just have to depart for the La Quinta around 10 pm and come home around 6 am....it is out of my hands.

The Joy of Facebook

I feel I need to quickly express my gratitude to whoever put together Facebook. It is currently near the top of my favorite things in life, quickly crowding out my two kids and husband. I can not express in words the joy I get from this website.

First, I get to be reconnected to all sorts of people from my former lives. I have reunited with friends from my early childhood, high school, college, ex-boyfriends, work people, etc. I can't think of anything more exciting than to have someone come back into your life, even in this small way, that used to a huge part of your existence. It is comforting to know they are still out there, they are ok, and that they still think about you from time to time too.

Second, it is just plain entertaining to hear what people are doing in their daily lives. I love that I know that a girl I used to periodically talk to in high school is excited about her upcoming steak dinner. Random?....Yes. Entertaining?...Surprisingly so.

Now, my all time favorite thing about facebook is the feeling I get when someone I used to think of as "cool" asks to be my friend. This is absolutely juvenile, ridiculous and superficial but I will not pretend that I am not excited, no, make that elated when someone I wasn't even sure knew me, asks to be my friend. It is like a validation to my existence as a semi-cool, interesting person in this world. And despite the fact that I shouldn't care at all when someone that I barely knew 15 years ago, and now don't know at all, asks me to approve to let them look at my profile on some website, all that runs through my head is, "They like me! I am so cool."

Facebook rocks.

When Did Summer Start to Suck So Much?

Don't you remember longing for summertime when you were a kid? No school, no plans, everyone around to just do whatever you felt like doing? It was so wonderful.

I decided earlier today that I officially hate summer now. Hands down it is the worst summer, especially here in Texas. Here are my primary complaints:

1. No school (or mother's day out for my kids) for months!
2. No new tv shows to watch
3. The unberable, constant heat that makes me wonder why more people aren't shot this time of year

I am honestly not sure I will make it the next two weeks until my children start back to their two -day a week mother's day out program. We are bored out of our minds with hours on end of unplanned time to do anything we want....unless it involves being outside between the hours of 9 am and 9 pm because we will melt. This is moving up to number one on my "Reasons We Should Pack up and Leave Texas List."

At night my husband and I are recording all types of crap shows on our dvr just hoping to have something to do after the kids go to bed other than talk....boring! I am ready for new, primetime shows that I can get excited to watch. To be honest I am taping, and actually watching, a soap opera and it is the most exciting thing in my sweaty, bored life right now. I actually found myself discussing the people in my soap opera (daytime drama) with my husband the other like they were real people. I was exhibiting genuine concern for a "character" on the show. What is going on? I think my brain is frying in this place.

Pray for fall! Pray for fall!

My positive Attitude

About two or three months ago I made a concious decision that I was going to be happy. I truly believe I needed to just made a definitive change in my mindset about life. I was so sick of being angry all the time about everything...constant questions for juice or to fix a car, every journey out of my house taking an hour of preparation to walk out the door, and the lack of any true moments to myself. It was really getting to me and I constantly felt that I was wishing I was someone else, somewhere else and something else.

One day I was sick of feeling like I was going to explode with dissatisfaction and anger so I changed my mind. I decided I was going to be grateful that I get to stay home and see the amazing process of my children growing and learning. I was going to be grateful that I have a home, food, and a husband that loves me and our family so much that he works very hard to provide these things to us all.

It worked. I felt happy most of the time and I could talk myself out of most of my gloomy moments. I periodically would indulge in some bitching about someone pooping on the floor or someone screaming at me in public but even that was just a healthy release. I felt present in my life and it was amazing.

Then yesterday happened...after a week of a sick baby, a tantrum throwing 2 year old, and too many discussions to count about how we were going to financially make it through this down-turn in the housing market, some motherf*#$%* broke into my car while I was playing in the park with my kids. I can not express in words my anger at this situation. I would have to be punching someone to show you how I felt when I saw all the glass shattered in my 2 year old's car seat. Pure rage.

The only thing stolen was a pair of sunglasses which I am sure the theif will be disappointed to realize are from Target. Damm Isacc Mizrahi for making them look close to the high end version! The kicker is that because I drive a stupid Lexus I can't just get a window replacement from anywhere but now have to pay $570 for a window. Stupid materialistic and image-driven America infiltrating my thoughts to make me think I'll be happier if I had brand name possesions. I'm never reading US Weekly again! (Except at doctor's office's because really what else is there?)

I have spiraled into an angry state again and can not seem to talk myself out of it. I feel I am getting screwed and the feelings of self pity are disgusting. I know this will soon pass and I will feel good again but right now I want to find the person that did this and shove my imitation designer sunglasses up their butt. I have all sorts of irrational and mean thoughts going through my head about the person that did this. I imagine a punk kid on a bike looking for something he could sell to buy weed.

I actually returned to "the scene of the crime" this morning to look around for my glasses. I thought maybe they might have thrown them and then I could turn them into the police to dust for fingerprints.... I brought a hankerchief and plastic baggie to maintain the quality of the evidence. What the hell am I doing?

Whoever you are out there with my Isac Mizrahi glasses, I hope someday you'll have some break through and realize your evil ways...or at least that you cut your hand on all the glass while smashing my window.

Altercation with a 2 year old

I just had an altercation with my two year and I seriously feel like I need to go punch something. How can such a small person cause so much anger in me? I made the mistake of allowing him to skip his nap time and hang out with me a little longer....big mistake. He was out of control. He kicked over the laundry I was folding, threw our portable DVD player off the bed (yes threw it,) and hit me with an impressive amount of force twice. Where is Nanny Jo?

I think the reason I feel so angry is because I know that it is actually my fault more than his. Isn't that usually why we get so fired up about things like this? I know that I shouldn't have let him skip the nap since he needs it and so when it blew up in my face I felt like I was failing as a Mom. I know that in an hour this will be no big deal and we will all be fine but now I feel likeCPS should be called on me, my two year old is scarred for life by my erractic discipline and my baby is now headed for a very cranky afternoon as a result of being woken from his nap by the screams of his older brother.

I'm going to sweat in the park and watch my kids get dirty while I drink my $5 drink from Starbucks.

Oh, My Mom

So I have been battling with a virus stricken 11 month old and it has sucked. No one is sleeping much and the doctor basically told me I would just have to ride it out, nothing he could do for the baby. I want to punch him.

I tell my Mom that the doctor thinks it could be roseola, though in the middle of the night I am convinced I am being punished for something I did in my pre-kid life.

In response to that I get the following email which makes me want to drive to Indiana to punch my Mom:

"Roseola. You have got to be kidding me. Kyle had that and he never had a fever of 103."

This is my Mom's typical style of response to almost everything I have to say about my children. All her ideas about raising children are pretty much rooted in two basic beliefs.

First, if you were given guidance by a doctor, child care professional, etc. and it is not exactly what she instinctively would have told you, or found in her child rearing book from 1972, everything they say should be doubted if not disregarded entirely. Obviously their main objective is to try to screw me and my children over.

Next, she believes that all her experiences (or current memories of those experiences from 35 years ago) with my older brother as an infant are the baseline for all normal child behavior. If it didn't happen to Kyle then it is just ridiculous to think that it could happen to another baby.

Why can't I have a Mom that just says, "Gee honey, it sounds like things are tough for you there. I hope you and Cole start to get back to normal soon. Would you like me to fly down and babysit so you can go out?"

Sick Baby, Mentally Sick Mommy

So, I have a sick baby. This is the end of the world for any Mom of young children. Seriously, it sucks.

My 11 month old got sick a few days ago with a fever. It started late in the afternoon and he had typical symptoms of fussiness and fatigue. After taking his temperature (103 degrees,) giving him some motrin, and putting him to bed, I relax and think back to my older son's times of fever sickness and how he slept pretty well those nights. He seemed to just go to sleep and let his body fight whatever was going on....or during the worst of times he came and slept with me.



Apparently siblings are really different when sick. The screaming and moaning started about an hour after I put him to bed. I went to him, held him, rubbed his back and got him to go back to sleep, because I am such a loving and nurturing Mom.



Thirty minutes later he is up again and inconsolable. Since it is 8:00 pm, my husband is home, and my 2 year old is in bed, I rally and take turns with my husband comforting the baby for the next few hours. When he still was not able to settle into sleep and his fever was still 103 around 11:00 pm I felt that creeping sensation of genuine concern for my child mixed with a hint of my selfish desire to just leave his room and go to bed....one can only be loving and nurting for so long.



Around midnight, I begin to do what I usually do when faced with one of these frustrating, unsolvable situations with my children...I go frantically search through my baby reference books for the exact instructions on how to make this horror end.



I remembered hearing I could rotate Tylenol and Motrin every three hours so I had started that around 9:00. Now, thinking I could administer more medication I happen to glance at a page in one of my books in which the author explains why they specifically do not recommend this treatment for fevers unless your child is prone to seizures. Shit!



Crap, now I'm overdosing him...unless by some chance he is a child prone to seizures? He could be, how do I know? Am I seriuosly standing in my kitchen hoping that he is prone to seizures so that my medicine dosage could be justified if I have to talk to an ER doctor about an overdose later?



Forget it, I proceed with the rotating of medicine thinking that this author is probably just really cautious since she also states you can't give your child raisins until they are 3, and I decide to go with the voice of my husband's doctor friend that often tells us how difficult it is to kill someone and how overdosing on over the counter medicine is pretty impossible. Fantastic, a much more comforting thought.



By 1:00 am though we still don't have much relief and my husband and I are staring over the crib at our screaming child and seriuosly contemplating the ER. I have hit the point where I am so tired that rational thoughts are no longer even combating the crazy, overtired thoughts I have. All the irrational things my Mom has said to me earlier about the recent news stories she has heard are running through my head: possible kid-killing bacterias found in pools from people peeing in them too much (we were at a free public pool the other day!), a child contracting menengitis from swimming in a lake (we were in the river yesterday!), and my favorite which is that I have been using too much/too little hand sanitizer so now Cole is stricken with deadly bacteria from my incompetent parenting skills. Crap!




An hour later Cole is asleep and I'm ready to end all contact with the outside world for my child and will be looking into placing him in a bubble.

It was a great 4 hours of sleep.