Bad Mom Moment

I’m a terrible mother. 

I really am.

Not always.  I can pull off some amazing mommy moments when teaching my girls, like making up the notecard game to help Kirstin learn some first words, or teaching Emily how to say, “I love you” after giving hugs.  Those are fun times.

But then there are the times when I’m tired, cranky, and putting up with whiny, cranky kids.  Then I tend to get more sarcastic and mean.  I also make assumptions that can hurt others.

So what happened?

I told Kirstin I flushed Mongo the cat down the toilet.

It all started with getting ready to go to the parade in town.  I had the girls ready, and I took a second to go to the bathroom.  We tend to keep an open door policy with the bathroom.  I think of it as modeling good behavior for the girls.  Really, it’s just a lack of modesty and laziness.  I was just turning to flush the toilet and the shower curtain moved outward. 

It startled me, especially as part of the curtain took the shape of a big cat paw.  I knew what was going on, but was startled, none-the-less.  So I yelled,

“Holy crap!”

Matt laughed and said I didn’t know Mongo was between the curtains.  Obviously I didn’t because otherwise I wouldn’t have yelled.

Kirstin heard the name, Mongo, and assumed he was in the toilet for whatever reason.  She didn’t see what was happening and put two and two together and got five, I guess.

So, the inevitable question came.

“Did you just flush Mongo down the toilet?”

The night before we’d gone to see fireworks at the Traverse County fair, and wound up visiting with Matt’s Aunt, Uncle, and cousins (that’s a fun story too).  We didn’t get home till after midnight.  Now, me, being tired from getting home so late the night before coupled with an odd inability to sleep after that, answered in my usual sarcastic way when I feel like that:

“Yes, Kirstin, I did flush Mongo down the toilet.”

I figured she knew that Mongo wouldn’t fit down the toilet, and that he would probably not like being in the toilet in the first place and just jump out.  I was completely and horribly wrong.

Cue tears and sobbing.

She thought she lost a beloved pet, again.  She wouldn’t stop even after I procured Mongo from the shower curtain and brought him out for her to pet.  She didn’t even really stop after I held her and rocked her.  All the while apologizing and telling her it was a joke and I shouldn’t joke like that with her because she takes things so seriously.  She didn’t stop crying till her dad gave her a hug and told her we’d better get to the parade or she’d miss out on all the candy.  Then it was like nothing happened and she was all smiles and antics again. 

By the way, the parade was fun as usual.  Kirstin was the only kid in our section so she got a TON of candy.  Of course, no kid needs that much candy, so to save her teeth I decided to take one for the team and eat some, too.  I mean, if it saves a child some trouble, it must be okay, right?

Another Creative Endeavor

Finally, able to take some time to write a little bit.  

Actually, I’m sitting at my desk with a cup of coffee and a muffin.  I was going to read some of my online stuff and then realized that I have no more to read online. 

And yet, there are dishes to be done, laundry to be folded, floors to vacuum, and all that good stuff to do today and motivation is just not there for right now.

So, I write.

I have been quite busy.  I got an idea into my brain and I just can’t let it go.  I want to make a quilt for Kirstin for her 5^th birthday in March. 

But I don’t quilt.

Hmm…

So I talked to Matt’s aunt Jo about it.  She can piece together quilts, but does only squares. 

Hmm… again…

Hey! I know! I can personalize it by embroidering a bunch of blocks with pictures and words that remind me of Kirstin.

And now I sit with embroidery in my hands while Emily is napping and after the girls go to bed.  I have all kind of pictures to embroider onto blocks of fabric.  

Only other problem: It’s been years since I last did anything like this.  I knew I needed help of some kind.  So I searched the web for any kind of tutorials I could find and came across Mary Corbet’s Needle NThread blog.  

How cool is that!  She even put up video tutorials of the different stitches, includes patterns, reviews embroidery books, and offers advice to anyone who asks.  I have learned much from this website. 

Now, this creative endeavor is going pretty well.  I made use of the local fabric shop for thread, needles, and fabric.  I even bought a little embroidery hoop from there, but it didn’t work well.  I got better ones from my Mom in law.  I’m all set, I just have to go with Jo to get the rest of the fabric, embroider all the pieces that need it, and get them to Jo.  It should be a fun project.  And I get to repeat it in a few years when Emily gets to be the same age.  

Otherwise I’ve just been knocking titles off my reading list.  I’ve read items by Henrik Ibsen, H.G. Wells, and am in the process of reading Cervantes’ Don Quixote. 

The reading list is something I’m never going to finish.  As I put X’s by the title’s I’ve read, I add new titles to it.  I just love books! With my reading list, I also get a sense of accomplishment as I finish a book and can put an X by the title.  Some of the books I like more than others.  Some I may read again, and others, well, not so much...But I'm getting a taste of all different kinds of literature.  It's wonderful!

Raising a Writer

“Give me a broken piece of heart!”

“Do you like my song Mama?”

Why yes, it’s a beautiful song, but it’s a little sad isn’t it?

“No, not at all Mama!  I just haven’t found the right words yet for when the heart isn’t broken anymore!”

I’m not sure where she even got the words “broken piece of heart.”  We always have so much music playing around here it’s tough to say.

But Kirstin does touch on something that every writer goes through: Finding the right words to convey the story, emotion, chaos, etc. with the pizzazz that will make readers think, “WOW! I know this!”

And that makes me realize just how grown up she is.  It all started with a haircut.

Before she looked like this:

Emily and Kirstin enjoying the sunny day

My little girl, and she would always be my little girl.

Then, we got her hair cut. 

Nora, Landon, Kirstin, and April singing in the VBS closing service.

Now all of a sudden she grew up on me.  She has good insights on people and situations.  She’s fun to listen to (though not ALL of the time).  She tries new things all the time.  She’s becoming more daring, a little more sassy, and tried swearing a few times.  All of which puts my heart into my throat, frustrates me, and makes me laugh.  It’s very difficult to tell a child not to use some words when you’re laughing.  Like when she said, “That f---ing d..n computer just doesn’t work!”

At least she used the correct context.  And yes, she gets that from me.  While I don’t normally swear around the kids, sometimes when things aren’t working right I slip up.  And yes, I’ve used those words when my computer wasn’t working the way I wanted it to.

And now I believe I may have a writer on my hands.  I want to encourage her to put her thoughts down on paper, as soon as she can write.  Right now she draws pictures a lot.  Who knows, maybe I have the next great poet, novelist, or playwright on my hands.  She’s still young enough that her imagination isn’t inhibited by anything.  It’s my hope that it never becomes that way.

Moving slowly

The surgery is done.  I'm sore, as is to be expected.  I'm learning to take the pain pills the doctor prescribed.  I turned down some heavy narcotics in my IV in the recovery room.  Not a big fan of them.  Took some Aleve instead when I got back to my regular room.  That worked pretty well.  Now I have Tylenol 3 to take.  It's not as strong as the demerol or morphine I was offered earlier.  Just focusing on getting better so I can then focus on where life is again.  It'll probably be a few days. I can't wait to hold my girls again!  I miss the cuddles!  In the meantime...being waited on is kind of fun!

New Date to Add

June 26, 1982

June 26, 1995

June 26, 1998

August 28, 2000

October 20, 2000

June 22, 2002

June 26, 2003

July 8, 2006

March 14, 2007

August 25, 2009

April 29, 2010

A random list of dates, right?  Not to me.  These are life changing (or completely life beginning) dates.  There are significant birth dates, dates that are special to Matt and me, the dates when I found out about my pregnancies, and the birth dates of my girls included.  

Pretty soon I can add another date to the list: July 25, 2011.

And what is special about that date?

That is the date in which I have surgery.  Tubes will be tied, and endometrial ablation (uterine cauterization) will be done.

And I will no longer be able to bear children.  

Not that I want any more children, but this is a big step towards something unknown to me.  I’m voluntarily letting something of myself be taken away.   I never thought I’d let child bearing define part of me, but it does.  It’s really less than 1 percent of my thoughts that go to this subject.  I’m mostly happy about this decision.  No more periods.  Ever!  No more cramping, icky, painful, crud.  No more worrying about taking a pill every day to make sure I stay on schedule and to prevent any more children.  That’s a pill I’ve been on for 13 years! 

 

I will have to figure out what my “normal” is now.  My hormones have been altered by taking pills or being pregnant for so long I have no clue what normal is for me.  This is the part that scares me (besides the cuts to my abdomen).  I know what normal is for me right now.  It’s fine, and workable, and happy, for the most part.  What is to come?  

These questions can only be answered by going through the procedure and then taking things day by day.   I have good people around me to help out as needed, and many people excited for me as I embark on this portion of my life journey.  One person in particular surprised me: Matt’s coworker Rebecca.  She fought some kind of reproductive cancer and had to have a hysterectomy.  She’s happy and excited for me (I’ve heard, Matt talked to her, not me) to not have to deal with monthly cycles in the “prime of my life.”

It’s good to know there are people I can talk to about this and who are willing to drive Kirstin back and forth from Vacation Bible School.  It’s wonderful to know my parents will take care of the kids while Matt and I are gone for this surgery, and it’s even stupendous to know my husband is willing to take time off of work to drive me back and forth and take care of the girls while I recover enough to care for them myself. 

It’s a beautiful life!

Bustin' Out

In which the layered look goes wrong; and only Matt and my pastor knew about it.

Being Sunday, and being the pious individuals we are, we got up early and got ready for church.

I already had the girls’ clothes picked out and ready, and I found something for myself to wear as well.  I was doing a layered bit with a tank top underneath a green button down shirt.  My dilemma was whether to include a bra with the ensemble or not, as the tank top had a built in bra.  I decided for more support. 

This particular tank top has adjustable straps, but being well used no longer really stay adjusted.  And I have a fifteen month old monkey to wrangle.

And today was no exception for Emily.  She was all over, getting into everything, trying to crawl under pews, examining the contents of my purse, etc.  My poor tank top couldn’t keep up.  Literally.

Cue communion time.  When it was our turn, we told Kirstin to stay in the pew, and I carried Emily up front with me.   I placed her standing at the rail while I knelt behind her.  Pastor came with the wafers, he handed one to me, and I looked down.

Oh my!

Hello girls!  I shouldn’t be seeing you here.

I left the top button of my shirt unbuttoned to facilitate the layered look, and my tank top was below my breasts.  All that was there was cleavage and bra. Laughing silently (we’re pious, you know, no laughing during communion!), I moved the button down shirt slightly to cover up a little more, while being thankful I had Emily to cover up the rest of me while I was walking back to the pew.  Also being thankful I had included the bra with the outfit instead of relying on the built in bra in the tank top.  That would have been a whole lot more to show.

And of course, when I got back to the pew, I buttoned the top button of my shirt completely, and told Matt what happened.  He too laughed about it.  No one else but Pastor could have known because I had Emily in my arms and covering anything that was going on with my wardrobe.  It wasn’t until church was over that I was able to find a quiet moment to fix the tank top.  I’m thinking it’s about time to retire it if it can’t keep up to the activity. 

And of course I had to laugh about it to our friends, who understand completely the challenges of being properly dressed while wrangling kids.

So tired

I have a blog post I'd like to make, but every day it seems I'm so tired out and just can't get myself to sit down and write.  Hopefully one of these days soon I'll be able to get it done. 

I want to write about two letters of the alphabet that change so many words.  It's amazing what comes to me while I'm in bed waiting for my mind to wind down enough to sleep.  And for once, I remember most of the thought process.  If I kept a journal up there to write in, I'd never get sleep, otherwise I would.  

So why am I so tired?  Well, Kirstin has nightmares a lot lately.  That gets me a crying child running into my room late at night.  I get up, take the time to see if she can calm down enough to tell me what happened, get her a drink of water, and back to bed she goes.  Then Emily gets up during the night too.  I went from a full-night baby to one who wakes up screaming; usually between two and three in the morning.  She takes more time to calm down.  I've tried just laying her down in her crib again and rubbing her back or tummy, but that does no good.  If anything, her screams get louder.  I've tried just picking her up and holding her, swaying back and forth.  That does quiet her some, but when it comes time to go back in the crib, the screams start again and I get a stiff as a board baby who is clinging to me.  So, down the stairs we go to the rocking chair.  If rocking doesn't help, then it's to the kitchen for a cup of milk.  And now I fear I'm spoiling her and she expects that every time she wakes up at night. 

Last night I did change it up a little, and only gave her water, which seemed to work okay, and I also gave her a cup of milk right before bed.  Still woke up screaming, but then I didn't feel so bad about giving her just water.  Now today I noticed she was chewing on many things, including Kirstin's brand new flip flops.  So I took a look, and yup, we have more teeth coming.  These are eye teeth, so tonight after her cup of milk I gave her some medicine.  Here's hoping to a full night's sleep and a better blog post to come!