Don't Forget the Easter Bunny!

What a day!  It was a day filled with good friends, really good food, and happy kids.  I feel so full of contented happiness that picking one moment to write about today is a little tricky.  But one does come to mind.  In the wee hours of the morning, or the late hours of the night, depending on your perspective, I woke with a nagging feeling I had forgotten something.  I got up to use the restroom, and on my way back to bed, it hit me.  I hadn't put together the kid's Easter baskets!

Panic ensued.  I ran downstairs and tried to gather all the Easter goodies as quietly as I could.  Their baskets were still in a box in the garage, and I tried not to break my neck while getting them off the top of a very high shelf.  Once I had the baskets, the "grass" and the various toys spread in front of me, I felt a huge wave of exhaustion roll over me, and all I wanted to do was crawl back in bed.  Tessie is usually a very late sleeper, and Christian can't leave the bedroom on his own, so I was pretty sure I could get up in time to fill the baskets before they woke up.  But I didn't want to take the chance, so I stayed up for another half an hour, arranging their baskets from the Easter Bunny.  Once they were waiting on the coffee table, and all evidence that I had been the one who filled them was gone, I slunk back upstairs and into bed.  It took awhile for my brain to slow down, but I eventually fell back asleep.

I awoke this morning, just before seven, to rustling sounds from downstairs.  Tessie was in the living room, going through her Easter Basket.  She didn't even get up that early at Christmas.  I laughed to myself, and had a "aren't you glad you didn't procrastinate even further?" moment.  Before long, she ran upstairs and climbed into bed with us, a couple of her gifts in tow.  She was beaming, and ecstatic that the Easter Bunny had come while she was sleeping.  I smiled at her, thinking all the while that I was the lucky one.  That was a beautiful brush with parenting disaster, and I made it!

National Monument

Today my husband and I attended an event to celebrate the creation of the Rio Grande del Norte National Monument.  A huge section of the Rio Grande, from south of Taos, up to the Colorado border, was signed into National Monument status on Monday by President Obama.  This is a project that many people, my husband included, have fought very hard to bring to fruition.  It means that the beautiful Rio Grande gorge, which we are fortunate enough to neighbor, will stay wild and protected, for my children and theirs to enjoy for generations to come.

Watching the group of politicians and conservationists talk and thank people for their hard work, I was filled with the emotion and excitement of the day.  All around me people cheered and applauded, everyone was grinning from ear to ear.  When the Secretary of the Interior, Ken Salazar, thanked the people of New Mexico, and especially those of Taos County, for their hard work, I looked up at my husband proudly.  Although he was only a small part of this project, he is fighting every day to preserve and protect the rivers and forests around our home.  As I was introduced as Nick's wife, to senators and state representatives, it was easy to keep the smile on my face, and the pride in my stance.  Today was a beautiful celebration of what can be accomplished when people work together towards a common goal, and I was honored to be a part of it.

The First Fire

Impromptu get togethers are always the best kind. This afternoon we had an egg coloring get together, which turned into a "who brought wine" get together, which led to a"I have a bunch of food" get together, which led to a lot of fun.  As the evening progressed, and the egg colorers tired out, us adults got to actually hang out.   I couldn't remember the last time we hung out with friends that didn't include kids.

Since the night was as warm as it had been since last October, Nick started a fire in the fire pit, and after the kids were happily distracted with a movie, the rest of the parents followed.  Slowly, our kids fell asleep, and we got to continue hanging around the fire.  This never happens, and we took full advantage.  We told stories, drank wine, and carried on until the fire was gone and we could no longer hold back the yawns.  Spring has been teasing us, and summer is just around the corner.  None of us can wait, and tonight we got a pretty great preview of what is to come.  We all had huddled close to the fire, ignoring the cold that crept upon us, and stayed out due to sheer will.  Although we will have plenty more to come, it is always the first fire that is the most beautiful.

Grocery Shopping Alone

Today I went grocery shopping alone.  That sentence says it all, as far as I'm concerned.  And not just for a couple of items, a full on grocery shopping trip, with no kids.  It was amazing.  I meandered through the aisles, not missing any items on my list due to distractions, like pulling my kids off of one another in the middle of the canned goods aisle.  Yup, that happens a lot.

I ran into several friends, all of whom I had long relaxed conversations with.  It felt a lot more like social hour than an errand.  I was actually reluctant to leave the store, knowing that I would be returning to Mommy Land, which is in a small area of Dirty House Land.  But I did leave, I loaded the car, and headed home.  I am already looking forward to my next solo trip to the store.  It is sure to be just as beautiful as it was today.

A Beautiful Combination

I worked in the Fly Shop today, and I had one main goal; to organize our office.  This is was a daunting task.  Our office contains the cumulative clutter of almost ten years, and although it is occasionally "cleaned out" there is never really time for much of a deep clean, and inevitably the clutter just gets deeper.  I was determined to actually make a difference today, and dug in with a gusto.  It was tough to keep my momentum in between customers coming in, but by mid day I had actually started to make a real dent in the black hole that is our office.

I was in full tilt cleaning mode, and had two trash bags filled already.  There were catalogs, receipts, and notes from years back, definitely stuff that did not need to be piled up on our shelves.  I was pulling random things down from the top of a shelf when two dusty pieces of paper fluttered to the ground.  I sneezed, then bent down to see what they were.  After wiping the very thick layer of dirt off the mystery paper, their origin suddenly dawned on me.  They were our tickets into the Colosseum in Rome, from our visit to Italy nearly six years ago.

The tickets froze me on the spot.  I have no idea where they came from, or how they ended up on top of a shelf filled with fly fishing catalogs and paraphernalia, but they caused a wave of memories to wash over me.  The clutter filling our office was evidence of the ability that my husband and I have to work and play together, simultaneously.  We have built a business and a life, side by side.  Standing in the middle of a ridiculously cluttered and dusty office may have been a strange place for this realization to take place, but it did, nonetheless.  I felt lucky and loved, and it was a beautiful combination.

Pull-Ups

Today I began the terrifying task of potty training my son. We have been slowly leading up to it for a while now. Christian has been sitting on, and even occasionally using, the potty before bath. We started a "potty chart" a couple of days ago, something we did for Tessie that worked well, and he gets a sticker every time he goes pee or poop in the potty. He has one sticker so far. Until today I hadn't really given it my all, I was dragging my feet. So I decided to give him a little more incintive. Today Christian got his first pack of pull-ups.

He was over the moon excited when I showed him the pull-ups, and couldn't wait to put them on. He was so proud once he had them on, that I had to take a picture and send it to Nick. We also had to show them to Tes before I put his pants back on. Not long after Christian had on his new pull-ups, he told me he wanted to go potty. I carried him to the bathroom, got him situated on the potty, and sat down on a stool in front of him. We had barely been there a minute, when his expression changed to one of concentration and he said "I'm gonna go pee pee." Sure enough, I heard the tell-tale sound and cheered out loud. We high fived as I got him off the potty, and we picked a new sticker for the chart. He smiled the whole way to the living room, where he high fived Tessie, and asked to call his Daddy. It was quite the celebration.

Although I carried him back to the bathroom for several more potty trips throughout the day, no more stickers were earned. But I still feel like today was a success. Potty training is hardest on Mom, no matter how you look at it. If all I accomplished today was getting Christian excited about wearing pull-ups, then I still think it was a beautiful start.

An Early Bedtime Surprise

I spent the last three hours being yelled at, whined at, and sassed to.  Great fun.  Both kids were really misbehaving, and hadn't let up by the time dinner rolled around.  Luckily, by that time, Nick had come home, and he was able to step in and help discipline, I was worn out.  Both kids were refusing to eat, yelling and carrying on.  Both kids got a time out.  With Christian it was successful.  He returned to the table happy and proceeded to eat his dinner without a fuss.  Tes on the other hand, refused to eat, slunk away from the table when we told her not to, and pouted on the couch while we all finished eating.  I don't think she has ever disobeyed us so outright. 

As a punishment, Tes had to go straight to bed without books.  She took her consequences gracefully, and went to bed without much fuss, thank goodness.  Christian read books with Nick, and then I tucked them both in and kissed them goodnight.  I left their room feeling like I had just run a marathon.  As I walked through the kitchen, I glanced at the clock.  It read 7:40.  The earliest I can ever get them to bed is usually 8:00, more like 8:30.  We got a beautiful surprise with the early bedtime, and I'd say we earned it. 

The Movie Date

This afternoon we went to the movies with some friends.  For those of you without kids, and even some of you with kids, this may not seem like a big deal, but it is.  Believe me.  We went to a matinee with two other families, and all of our kids.  It was very ambitious, and really just seemed like a disaster in the making.  Sure enough, it didn't start well, the kids were restless as the previews started, and one of the two year old boys was refusing to watch the movie at all.  It didn't look good.  But then the movie started, and the magic took over.  Aside from a couple of bathroom breaks, all six kids and all six parents got to watch the entire movie.  We all got to laugh, eat popcorn, and relax.  Well, we got as relaxed as you can with toddlers in your lap.  All in all, I am proud of us for even attempting it, and amazed that it turned out so beautifully. 

Hairapy

After a lot of convincing from my husband that I needed to take some time for myself recently, I decided to book myself a day at the salon.  The best part about going to get my hair done is that my hairdresser just happens to be one of my very best friends.  From the moment I sit down in her chair, until the moment I leave, it is relaxing and therapeutic.  We hadn't seen each other in a while, and we chatted non-stop about our kids and our lives, as she covered my head in color and foil.  As an added bonus, another friend of mine was there getting her hair done as well.  As our color set, we sat and talked.  We weren't interrupted by children climbing on us or demanding snacks, not once.  It was amazing.

The next step was shampooing, my favorite part.  All my stress and worries were washed down the drain as my girlfriend washed, conditioned, and massaged my head.  I was in heaven.  After my blissful time in the shampoo chair, we headed back to her station, and continued to talk as she trimmed and dried my hair.  We never chit-chat during these sessions, it's strictly serious stuff, and inevitably we both come close to tears as we delve into the trials and tribulations of motherhood.  Eventually, we work our way back to smiles, and I leave with a great new do, and a big hug.  The three hours I spent in the salon today were very much needed and enjoyed.  Not only did I get a great cut and color, but I got some beautiful "hairapy" as well.

My Happy Oops

After a lot of planning, and a few schedule mishaps, Nick set off to Albuquerque today to bring home a trailer full of furniture from my grandmother's house.  I had to stay back with the kids, so my mom had gone ahead and flagged all the items I wanted, and my father had arranged help for Nick on the other side.  One of the items that was coming home with Nick was a large upright freezer.  My mom warned me that the freezer was very tall, and I assured her that the trailer Nick was bringing would have plenty of room.  Mind you, I didn't actually verify this in any practical way.  I just assumed that it was tall enough because I though Nick and I could both stand up inside of it.  Well we can, with our heads bent.  Oops. 

So of course Nick arrived and my dad immediately said there was no way the freezer would fit.  I felt a lovely combination of horrible and stupid.  I was starting to think of other ways we could get the freezer to Taos, when Nick texted me to say that my parents were bringing it up in my dad's truck.  I hurriedly pulled together a bigger meal, and we had an impromptu dinner visit with my folks.  Because they hadn't planned on coming, they had a ton to do back home, and had to turn right around and make the two and a half hour drive back after dinner.  Although I felt bad that they had to go through all the trouble because of my mistake, I was also selfishly happy.  Because of my oops, I got to have a beautiful dinner with my parent, and I loved it.

Discrimination

To say today was hard would be a gross understatement.  Some of you may have noticed that I am in a bit of a funk lately.  My role as a mother is coming less naturally these days, and is much more of a struggle than I'd like.  That, combined with Christian being in the middle of as bad of a case of the terrible twos as I could ever imagine, means that I am at my wits end.  So there was my everyday struggle, and then it got worse.  Today I encountered the first outright discrimination against Christian that I have ever experienced.

There have been countless instances when people have spoken or acted in insensitive ways.  Some have asked "what's wrong with him", others have assumed that because he is delayed physically that must mean he is slow mentally as well.  Then there have been the countless comments that "all kids do things in their own time, or when they feel like it."  All well meant, of course, but really, you think Christian just doesn't feel like walking?   All of these things have hurt, but today was the first time I have ever felt like he was treated differently than other kids, simply because he requires more.

This incident happened early in the day, and it rocked me to my core.  I was so upset that I was physically shaking for the next several hours.  All I wanted to do was snuggle with Christian, and somehow transmit the love I felt for him into his soul.  Instead I spent the day in an all out battle with him.

Today Christian pulled my hair, hit, bit, and yelled at me.  He spent way too much time in time-out, and I spent way too much time on the verge of tears.  I was so shaken by the incident of the morning, that I was ill equipped to manage a furious and frustrated toddler who can't toddle.  It was all too much, and I just wanted to crawl back into bed and hide.  Unfortunately, moms don't get to hide, and I had to stumble through the day.  Luckily, Nick eventually got home, and I got the support I needed to feel somewhat sane again.  By the time the kids were in the bath tub, we were all smiles, and happy again.  But as I thought back over the day I'd had, which seemed at least thirty six hours long, I felt the sadness welling up again.

I think today was so hard, because I know it is just the beginning of a long struggle.  For the most part, people don't mean to be cruel, but they can be.  I don't want to think of what Christian will face in the coming years.  And I know I shouldn't focus on that, so I swallowed the tears back down, and turned to my soapy children.  I got their attention and looked them both in the eyes in turn.  I said "I have to tell you something very important and I need you to listen."  Amazingly they both looked at me with serious faces.  "I want you to know how much I love you, and that no matter what anyone ever tells you, you are smart, amazing, and beautiful.  And I am so proud of you."  Tessie smiled and went back to playing, taking those words for granted as fact, but Christian kept my gaze and his serious expression.  "I know." he said, and I felt he must have sensed something deeper in my words.  He is an incredible child, no matter how crazy he makes me.  I know he will do amazing things, and he will do it with the beauty that belongs to only him, and no one's words will ever take that away from him.

Hearts

I had a rare day away from the kids today, since I was scheduled to work in the Fly Shop.  It was a busy day with a lot of spring cleaning, talking to customers, and even selling a little.  By the time I headed over to pick up the kids from school I was exhausted, and crossing my fingers that they would be in happy moods.  I was pretty sure I couldn't handle another rough night.  My plan of attack at pick up time is, usually, to pick up Tes first, and then Christian.  It's just easier to wrangle my rambunctious daughter without a sour toddler on my hip.

When I got to Tessie's classroom, I found her sitting on the floor with markers spread around her, hard at work on a drawing.  She smiled up at me when I got closer, and I saw that she had covered her paper in purple hearts.  I told her how much I loved it, she beamed up at me and announced "I made it for you!"  I was touched almost to tears, but held them back for the sake of her teacher.  I don't want to be that mom.  She wanted to write "For Mom" at the top of the page, so I spelled out the words as she carefully wrote it out.  I was so proud.

It was a good thing she had me buttered up, because Christian screamed at me from the time I took him out of school, until we were almost home.  I was barely hanging on to my last thread of sanity, when he finally quieted down.  I took a deep breath, and then Tessie's sweet voice piped up from the back seat.  "Mommy, do you know why I made you so much hearts? Because I love you so much!"  My heart nearly burst.  At least they usually only attack one at a time, and lucky for Christian, his sister swooped in with a beautiful save.

Unfair

I was in a bit of a funk today.  For no real reason, you know, other than being exhausted and overwhelmed, I was in a perpetual state of feeling blue.  It started this morning, when I sunk into the bad place of dwelling on how hard having two kids under five is.  Not to mention the whole one of them not being able to walk thing.  Just picture me in the kitchen in my bathrobe, my eyes welling up with tears, and Nick looking at me like I was a time bomb.  I managed to pull myself together and sent him off to work with a kiss.

Christian sensed my weakness, and preyed on it all day.  I couldn't engage him in anything this morning, and any attempt was met with yelling and screaming.  I had promised Tes we would go down the street to a big empty parking lot to ride her bike today, and was planning on letting Christian cruise around the wide open space in his walker.  Unfortunately, he thought this was a horrible idea and screamed at me for ten minutes straight.  I had to cut poor Tessie's bike ride short, and load us back into the car.  Of course, as soon as I put him in the car, Christian started screaming to get out and play.  Typical.

Needless to say, by the time I finally got Christian down for a nap, I was exhausted.  I sat down on the couch to cuddle with Tes for a minute, and fell fast asleep.  Tes snuggled with me for a while, and when I woke up she was sitting at her art table, beading a necklace.  I guess it's bad when even your four year old recognizes when you need some space.  Christian woke up in a crummy mood, still.  We continued to battle until I finally managed to get him happy enough for me to sneak into the kitchen to start dinner.  Then Nick got home, and everything changed.

We sat down to eat, and the rotten little boy who had been torturing me all day disappeared.  In his place sat a happy, charming, and simply hilarious little angel.  He ate his food happily, made us laugh, and quoted his favorite movies.  After dinner he requested I turn on Harry Belafonte's "Jump in the Line" and he danced with joy.  My first thought was how unfair all of this was.  Why is it that as soon as Dad gets home, the kids are automatically on better behavior, happy to see him, when they have been rotten as can be to me all day, and generally just better little people?  But as I watched my son dancing and laughing, I couldn't hold on to any anger or ill will.  Maybe that is the most unfair part of all, no matter how they treat me, or how rough my day is, all I see at the end of the day are beautiful babies, who just happen to be mine.

Chapter Books

I am a lover of books.  My husband might say I'm a hoarder of books, but I prefer lover.  That love can be traced directly back to my childhood.  My father read to my brother and me every night.  It was the most special part of the day, when we got him all to ourselves, and together the three of us would be transported to other worlds and times.  From a very early age, my father abandoned traditional picture books, and instead read us epic adventures of magic and intrigue.  Otherwise known as chapter books.  We read a chapter every night, and my brother and I would climb eagerly into bed to hear the next part of the story.  We read The Chronicles of Narnia, Charlotte's Web, Robinson Crusoe, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and many, many more.  I think this is the reason I am such an avid reader to this day. 

I recently unpacked several boxes of books that had been in our garage.  This is not a nod in favor of Nick's opinion that I am a book hoarder.  In the boxes were several of the books from my childhood, and I thought that Tessie might be ready to be introduced to them.  At dinner tonight I showed her Stuart Little, and explained that a chapter book was a big kid book, that you read a little of each night.  She was so excited to start reading it, and I was just as excited as she was.  I envisioned her glued to the page as her dad read, talking about her favorite parts, and begging for one more chapter.  Well, needless to say, things don't always go as planned.

Nick started to read the book, and Tes looked bored, then her attention wandered.  In the middle of the chapter she asked me if I could "explain this book to her."  Christian thought it was great, but when I asked Tessie what she thought, she said it was a little weird.  I walked out of the kids room after putting them to sleep, a little dejected and disappointed.  Nick just smiled at me, and told me to give it another night.  Knowing Tes, she could be obsessed with the book in no time.  He was right, and I had to laugh at myself.  What is one of the most important rules of parenting?  Your children are not you!  I know I don't have to worry about my children loving books, their love for chapter books will come in it's own beautiful time.

In Between the Craziness

Tonight was a crazy combination of tons of delicious food, overtired and extremely strong willed toddlers, and leaky pipes.  Yep, a very strange combination, indeed.  I decided mid-morning, that I wanted to make a big Irish St. Patrick's Day dinner for us and our neighbors.  The kids spent most of the day in fairly good moods, and I was able to pull off the big feast, even though I had had very little time to plan or prepare.  Our neighbors and their kids arrived right on time, and it looked like we were in for a nice evening of good food and great conversation.  That's right, we forgot that life doesn't work that way.

We both have very strong willed two year olds, and ours was the first to rear his very adorable but oh-so-frustrating head.  Christian started screaming about a minute after we all sat down to eat, and wouldn't stop.  He had already been to, and come back from, time out once, when I started to take him in again.  On my way back to the bedroom I met up with my neighbor who announced that she had found a bunch of standing water in the corner of the kids' room.  We investigated while Christian wailed, and sure enough, there was a ton of water that had come from somewhere.  The "where" was the big mystery.  We concluded that it must have something to do with the spigot that is right outside of the children's' room, and then discovered water leaking from an outside vent.  Not good.  After moping up the standing water and deciding that there was no constant water flowing, we decided there was nothing more to do than sit down and finish our meals.

We finally had Christian calmed down by giving in and letting him watch a movie, the older kids were happily terrorizing each other, and it looked like we all might actually get to talk.  Then our neighbors' youngest started to demand attention.  His poor mother couldn't make him happy, no matter what she tried; it was just one of those nights.  We must have started the same conversation five times.  He was finally sated with a movie on the lap top.  Divide and conquer, it is the only way to be a parent and a friend at the same time.  It finally looked like we were in the clear, when Tes approached us looking forlorn, and announced she had had an accident, and was soaking wet.  Into the shower with her!  Whew, who knew St. Patrick's Day would be so exhausting?

Try as we did, my neighbor and friend had to make an early exit, because her son was threatening to be sick, just as mine had finally settled down.  That's just the way it is once you have kids I guess.  We said hurried good nights, and promised to do it again soon.  I had to laugh.  Despite all the drama and disasters, I had actually had a great night.  I am glad that even though my life is a mess, and even a fun night with friends turns into a disastrous adventure in parenting, at least I can recognize the beauty in the few moments we had in between the craziness.

Date Night

Tonight was date night!  We dropped the kids off at Nick's mom's house for a few hours, and headed out to enjoy some time as just the two of us.  Instead of getting dressed up and spending a ton of money on dinner, we opted for burgers and a movie.  Perfect.  Over burgers we talked about work, the kids, my writing, plans for the summer, and anything else that came to mind.  No one started crying, or interrupted us because they had to go potty, or needed us for anything.  I can't put a value on drinking a beer with my husband in peace. 

After we were sufficiently stuffed, we headed to the movie theatre.  We skipped the popcorn and overpriced snacks, and headed in to find our seats.  I snuggled next to Nick as the movie started, and he put his arm around me.  I looked up at him, looking very handsome in his 3D glasses, and smiled.  I can't remember the last time we went to a movie together without our kids.  It was just like old times, except that it was 7:30 and we were yawning already.  Things change when you have kids, but cuddling in a dark movie theatre with my love, that is always a beautiful thing.

When We Work Together

One day last summer, Nick took the kids to play at the park.  The town had recently removed all the gravel from the playground, and replaced it with recycled shredded tires.  Although this was met with some resistance, we weren't too worried about it.  That changed after Nick and the kids actually played in it.  As the day got warmer, the rubber heated up, and started getting stickier and stinkier.  It was sticking to Christian, and by the time they left, Nick had a horrible headache.  We understood then why people had protested.

The outrage of many, and the hard work of a few, eventually led the town to agree to switch back to gravel on the playground.  There was one stipulation.  We, the townspeople, had to raise the money for the new gravel, and remove all the tire shreds.  The town agreed to provide the trucks to haul the discarded rubber away.  It was a major victory, but there was a lot of work ahead.  Due to a lot of work by a couple of local moms, bake sales were organized, radio interviews were broadcast, and the information was spread.  I, like many others, baked breads and cookies, and solicited donations and promises to help.  Hard work paid off, and the money to buy the gravel was raised.  This week, as spring was making herself known, the time to remove the stinky rubber had finally come.

Starting yesterday, mom's and concerned citizens, gathered to clear away the tire shreds.  I managed to get a couple of hours free to sweep and shovel, and it felt wonderful to know I was a part of something so big.  I was a very tiny facet of a much larger gem, and as I looked around the park, at the work that had been done so far, I marveled at what it meant; That people can make a difference in the world around them.  With a little hard work tomorrow, the tire shreds will all be gone, the new gravel will be poured, and the park will once again be a wonderful place to play.  I am proud to say I helped make this happen, and I am honored to call the women who lit this fire under all of us, my friends.  This is what can happen when people work together, and it is the definition of beauty.

No more tires.

Hard work, totally worth it

Single Parents

For the last two weeks, my husband has been working in Argentina.  He came home today.  As soon as I saw him, I fell apart.  Don't get me wrong, I wasn't holding it together that well while he was gone, but any semblance of a competent parent was gone the moment he walked in the house.  The relief that I felt at seeing him was like a tidal wave, and I had to hold on to him so I wouldn't collapse.  Yes, yes, I know I'm dramatic, but I have never pretended not to be.  These last two weeks without my partner have been trying to say the least.  Not only was I missing my husband, but I was missing my co-worker, so to speak.  The kids knew they outnumbered me, and they didn't hold back.

Nick wasn't home for an hour, and I already felt myself relaxing.  I can't begin to express what having him here means.  And I can't express enough how in awe of single parents I am.  I barely made it two weeks, granted we were sick the entire time, but it was a miracle we all made it through alive.  I took for granted that there were two of us.  When Nick left, I was worried about missing his companionship, and I completely underestimated how hard my job as a parent would be alone.  So the bottom line is, I don't cut it as a single mom.  All of you single parents out there are all gods and goddesses, as far as I am concerned.  Having my husband back to help me wrangle our munchkins was a beautiful gift, and one I will never take for granted again.

Every Once in a While

Although I can give myself a hard time, I think I mostly do a pretty good job at this mom gig.  Most nights, I feed the kids a healthy dinner away from the television, get them in the bath and through our night time routine, and then to bed around eight.  This doesn't happen every night, and when it does it is often met with much resistance, and it can be a lot of work on my part.  But I know it is worth it in the end to stick to my guns, and persevere.  However, I also know that there is something to be said for throwing rules and schedules out the window every once in a while.  Sometimes, the kids just need a fun night of movies and comfort food, and sometimes mommies need it too.

I worked in the shop today and as the end of the day was nearing, and I was thinking of what to make for dinner, I had a brilliant idea.  Why not let myself off the hook tonight?  I decided that tonight would be one of those "every once in a while" nights, so after work, I hurried to the store on my way to get the kids.  I picked up a frozen pizza, some ice cream sandwiches, and some wine.  When we got home, I put a movie on for the kids, preheated the oven, and relaxed.  While the kids ate their pizza in front of the movie, I ate mine with a glass of wine in front of my computer.  I browsed through Pinterest, chatted on Facebook, and basically did nothing worth mentioning.  It was awesome. 

Even though it was nearly bedtime, when the movie was over I gave the kids some ice cream sandwiches, much to their delight, and put on another short show.  Finally, I decided they should get ready for bed.  I brought their pajamas out into the living room, and we tickled each other and laughed, as we very slowly got ready for bed.  Tessie brought up brushing teeth, and we happily wandered into the bathroom.  We read two long books, then I tucked them in, and left their room in a great mood.  I had a great night, and I can't say that every night.  There was no arguing, no whining or complaining.  I will definitely go back to our regular routine tomorrow night, but every once in a while, taking it easy can be pretty beautiful.

Simple

Although I had a fairly busy day today, it was one of those days that felt like not much happened. I just got through it, did everything I was supposed to do, and now the house is quiet. The kids are asleep, and I am ready for some me time. I've got a reheated bowl of spaghetti, a glass of wine, and a True Blood DVD. That's it. That's my moment. Im done being mom, done cleaning and running errands. Im ready for some simple lounging time. Simple, but beautiful.

Stacking Blocks

As I have mentioned before, my son receives a lot of services from the state early intervention program.  Most notable among these services are physical and occupational therapy.  Christian has been seeing his physical therapist (PT) from the time he came home from the hospital at six weeks, and has been receiving occupational therapy (OT) for about a year and a half.  In order to receive these all so important services, he has to be tested on a regular basis to make sure he qualifies.  He definitely qualifies.  At his last evaluation his gross motor skills were in the four to six month range, and his fine motor skills were just slightly ahead.  He was about two years old at the time of the test.

Today Christian had to be reevaluated because he will be transitioning into the school system soon, and they need an up-to-date score.  Since I have been a part of these evaluations, and even worked as a Developmental Specialist for a while, I am very familiar with the proceedings.  It was fun to see boxes being checked that hadn't before, like rolling over and sitting well.  One of the areas that this particular evaluation focuses very heavily on is stacking blocks.  We play with blocks at home, but Christian mostly just knocks down what I build, he doesn't stack.  When he tries to stack, the way he holds the block, and the force with which he sets it down, cause the blocks to buckle away from each other.  When it came time to have him try stacking the blocks I waved my hand dismissively and said "He isn't quite there yet."  But his therapists suggested we give it a try anyway.  I shrugged.  Why not?

Christian's OT demonstrated what she wanted him to do, while his PT and I smiled encouragingly.  There were two blocks stacked in front of him, and he examined them closely.  Then he picked up a third block, and to my amazement, very precariously set it on top of the stack.  It stayed put, and we all cheered!  Then his tray was cleared and he was handed one block at a time.  I think I was holding my breath as he very slowly stacked his first two blocks, then was handed a third.  He set the third block on top of the others, then grinned with pride as we let out a chorus of hoorays.  He, of course, destroyed the tower after that, but no one minded.

Christian still definitely qualifies for services, and he probably will for quite some time, but he showed major growth today.  His gross motor skill level rose into the seven to ten month range, and his fine motor skills were much closer to age level.  All his language and cognitive skills were past age level, which they always have been, and I couldn't have been prouder.  It's funny how something as small as stacking three blocks can represent so much progress, and so much beauty.

Salon de Tes

I think one of the most relaxing things in the world is when someone plays with my hair.  It is basically the only reason I get my hair cut.  Something about it just melts all tension out of me, and I am in instant heaven.  This afternoon I was pretty wound up, on kid overload, and totally exhausted.  I was sitting on the floor in the kids room, playing with Christian in his kitchen, when Tessie came up to me and said "Your Majesty, it's time to do your hair."

Well I couldn't refuse such a wonderful offer, so I sat still while Tes took out my clip, and started to "curl" my hair.  Even though I was fairly certain she was just turning my hair into one big dread, I couldn't help but relax under the magic of the gentle (and not so gentle) tugging on my scalp.  When she finally put down her curling iron, which I'm fairly certain was a toy wand, and reached for the brush, I was happily brushed into a near coma.  By the time she finished, I was about two seconds away from falling asleep.  I woke myself up, but managed to stay relaxed, and in a better mood.  What a beautiful trip to the Salon de Tes.  I highly recommend it.

Not Yelling

I have been having a challenging time with my son lately.  It feels like the perfect storm of terrible twos, frustration, and plain old stubbornness.  We actually yelled at each other yesterday morning, a moment I am not proud of, and one that I recognized as a terrible parenting moment even while in it.  I later cried to Nick about it, and he calmed me down, assuring me it wasn't so bad.  Still, I know that yelling isn't the best way to accomplish things, so this morning as I walked in to get Christian out of bed, I gave myself a pep-talk.  Stay calm, don't take it personally, don't get mad, don't yell.  Breathe.

Christian started to yell at me almost immediately.  I took him out to the living room and asked him if he wanted milk, if he wanted to watch a movie, or if he wanted to snuggle.   Each question was answered with more screaming and yelling, and such willfulness, you wouldn't believe.  Deep breaths.  I calmly told Christian that if he was going to scream at me then I was going to leave.  He screamed.  I walked into the kitchen.  He screamed louder. 

For those of you cringing right now, please keep in mind that he wasn't crying or hurting in any way.  He was mad and telling me about it.  Such a Leo.  When he quieted down for a moment I walked back and asked him if he was ready to be a big boy.  I got a very hostile "NO!" to which I replied that he would have to go to time out if he continued to yell.  He did, and he went to time out.  I carried him to the guest bed, and pulled the covers up over him so at least he wouldn't be miserable and cold.  To my astonishment, a few minutes later I heard nothing but silence.  I peeked in the room and couldn't quite tell if he was just clam or asleep.  I decided not to risk it, and tiptoed to the living room to finish my coffee in peace.

About fifteen minutes later, I heard Christian start to talk quietly to himself.  I walked in to get him, crossing my fingers that he wouldn't start yelling again.  He turned to me, smiled, and said in the sweetest voice "I'm ready to be a big boy and say I'm sorry Mommy."  I almost fainted.  But instead I picked him up and once in my arms, he looked me in the eye and said "I'm sorry."  I'm not making this up.  I gave him the tightest hug I could, kissed him a million times, and told him I loved him.  We went into the living room and had a beautiful morning.  So I guess not yelling worked much better than yelling.  Who would have thought? 

The Unmistakable Scent of a Skunk

We had dinner at our neighbor's house tonight, the kids played, and the grown-ups talked and drank wine.  It was a great time.  Our dog Lucy joined us for awhile, hanging around to clean up the floor once the kids had finished dinner.  After she had gotten every scrap of dropped food she leaned against my leg and gave me a "you really don't pet me nearly as much as you should" look.  I smiled, and obligingly scratched her in her favorite spots.  I couldn't help but notice that she was getting a little smelly, and made a mental note to give her a bath in the morning. 

When we reached the witching hour, and the kids started to fall apart, I gathered our things and the children, and we said goodnight.  We stepped outside into a heavy snowfall, and Tessie caught snowflakes on her tongue while we walked.  As soon as we stepped outside I got a whiff of the unmistakable scent of a skunk.  Keeping my eyes open for the stinky fellow, I hurried the kids up to the house.  As we approached the front door the smell grew stronger, and I whistled for Lucy, who came bounding around the side of the house.  We all hurried inside and I quickly shut the door against the awful smell.  It took a split second for me to realize the smell had followed us in, and the source was my happy, grinning, and covered in skunk-spray Golden Lab.

This, unfortunately, is not the first time I have had to deal with de-skunking my dog, and I hurried to take care of it as quickly as possible.  I sequestered the stinky girl in the kids' shower stall, made sure Tes and Christian were temporarily distracted, and grabbed my arsenal of cleaning supplies.  I covered Lucy, who was now looking quite miserable, in a heavy coat of baking soda.  Then I squirted her with a little hydrogen peroxide, a lot of vinegar, and a liberal dose of Dawn dish soap.  Then I donned rubber gloves, rubbed it all into her coat, closed the door to the shower stall, offering poor Lucy my apologies, and let the mixture sit.  During the waiting period I got the kids ready for bed and  gave them their antibiotics.  Aren't we just a ton of fun? 

Finally, I rinsed off my poor dog, and dried her as best I could.  I put all the wet towels and the bathmat outside, and then put the kids to bed.  I walked back into the living room to find Lucy laying on the rug, looking very dejected.  I sat down beside her and gave her a sniff test.  My nose told me I had done a good job on the dog.  The house, however, reeked.  I will have to wait until the morning to really air it out.  For tonight, I will just have to live with it.  Lucy, on the other hand, looks and smells just beautiful.

One Of Those Days

Today was "one of those days."  It wasn't a bad day, in fact, it was pretty nice.  We stayed home, played, and watched movies.  The kids even went over to the neighbors for about an hour and I got some cleaning done.  Although it was mostly a good day, it was also a challenging one.  Today I found it particularly hard to have a two and a half year old who doesn't move on his own.

Christian was having one of those days too.  He just couldn't make up his mind about anything.  He would ask to watch a movie, then start crying the moment I walked away, and ask to go cook in his play kitchen.  As soon as I got him set up in the kitchen he threw a fit, and some toy food, and demanded to go in the living room.  Once in the living room, he screamed to go back to his bedroom.  You get the picture.  All day.

I tried playing with him, sitting on the floor, standing on the rug, dancing in my arms.  It didn't matter what I tried.  He was determined to find something better to do.  Every time I tried talking to him in a calm voice he yelled back at me.  He even tried to hit me during a fit.  When I said that hitting isn't kind, he yelled "YES IT IS!"  He spent a lot of time cooling down in time out.

I was trying to stay focused on being calm and in controll.  I told myself that every mother with a boy this age is going through the same thing.  But I couldn't help picturing what it would be like if he could get up and go in the other room on his own.  Or if he could sit up by himself when he slumped over on the couch.  Or even if he could crawl to get the toy just out of reach.  Major pity spiral, let me tell you.

When I have a day like this, I am filled with conflicting emotions; anger, sadness, guilt, frustration.  Then I take a deep breath, and tell myself that it probably wouldn't be any easier if Christian was mobile.  In fact, it might be a whole lot harder.  Knowing Christian, I would be fishing him out of the river every day, or every dish in my kitchen would be broken, or all Tessie's dolls would have very peculiar hair cuts.  My son is who he is, and I know we were given to each other for a reason.  What that reason is, I haven't quite figured out yet, but I'm sure there is one.

After their bath this evening, we were in the kids' room putting on pajamas.  Christian was ready first, so I set him on his bed while I helped Tes with a tangled pant leg.  Christian started telling us that he saw a monster in the closet.  I looked over at him, and smiled.  He was sitting up so tall, grinning and spinning quite a tale, with such animation it was impossible not to laugh.  That is my son, smart, funny, and strong willed.  I know that at times his will is what I have the hardest time with, but it is also the reason he is here today, and why he is continuing to progress every day.  Watching him talk about his monster in the closet, I forgot all the anger and frustration from the day, and instead I was filled with a beautiful love for my little man.

Sleeping Sound

If you have read any of my posts lately, you know that the kids and I have been battling a nasty bug for over a week now.  After a trip to the doctor's office today, my suspicions were confirmed when it was reveled that we were fighting more than a cold.  The kids both had ear infections and I had a sinus infection.  Poor Christian had already been on medication for an ear infection, but it hadn't quite done the trick.  I happily picked up antibiotics and took the kids home for a cozy dinner and a movie.  Despite the never-ending ear infection, Christian was in a great mood before dinner, playing with his sister, and being goofy.

In the middle of dinner he started to grumble, and I asked him what was wrong.  He got a very upset look on his face, and said his tummy hurt.  I picked him up and asked if he wanted to go potty.  He said yes, but then snuggled up against me.  It was such a sweet snuggle, that I just stood there for awhile and swayed with my boy in my arms,  planning on taking him to the potty in a minute.  When the minute was up, I noticed he had totally relaxed against me, and seemed to be asleep.  From my vantage point, I couldn't tell for sure, so I walked into the kids' room, and looked in their mirror.  Sure enough, he was out.  I turned off the light, and lay him in bed, dirty shirt and all.  It was still more than an hour until bed time, and I hadn't given him any medication yet, but I figured if he needed to sleep, I should let him.  I tiptoed out of the room in amazement, and closed the door. 

After the movie and dinner were over, I got Tes ready for bed, and was about to read her a book, when I heard Christian start coughing terribly.  His coughing was so bad that he woke himself up.  I went in to get him, and lay him on the couch while I fixed a syringe of cough medicine.  He was sound asleep again by the time I got back to him, but I knew he would sleep better with the medicine so I attempted the impossible.  I gave him his medicine anyway.  He didn't bat an eye.  He swallowed the whole teaspoon, I scooped him back up, and put him to bed.  His coughing subsided, and now he is sleeping soundly.  This feels a little like a miracle to me, given the week I have had, but I will accept it without question.  I may be up at three in the morning, but for now I think I will head to bed myself, and count my beautiful lucky stars.

Matzoh Ball Soup to the Rescue

Being sick sucks.  Plain and simple.  It especially sucks when you have the never ending sickness from hell, and both your kids are sick too.  This evening I got a wonderful surprise that made it suck a little less.  I was getting the kids ready for bed, administering various medicines, and trying not to get sucked into the black hole in my head.  My neighbor called in the midst of the madness, and asked if I would like her to run me down some soup.  Although I am usually prone to wave away kind favors when I'm at my wits end, I recognized that would be stupid, and said yes, I would love some soup.  She arrived moments later with a piping hot container of Matzoh Ball Soup.  It smelled delicious, and a little like heaven.  I thanked her, and said goodnight.  Even though I already had dinner, I am taking my neighbor-doctor's advice, grabbing a big bowl of soup, and crawling in bed to watch a movie.  Mmmmmm.  It smells like a beautiful evening is ahead of me.

Art Across Generations

This afternoon, when I put Christian down for a nap, my mom asked Tes if she would like to color.  Tessie said yes, of course, and when I came back out Mom was setting her up at the dining table with paper and crayons.  Tessie started to draw, and after watching her for a few minutes, my mom and I both sat down on either side of her and got our own papers.  Before long, all three of us were deeply focused on our colorful projects.

I heard a noise and looked up to see my dad standing over us, smiling at what must have been an interesting sight.  Three generations of ladies, a roll of paper, and a box of crayons.  The perfect combination, if you ask me.  It was a blast.  Tessie drew beautiful flowers and fairies, I tried to draw Tes, and my mom sketched trees and flowers.  I couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon, especially feeling under the weather as I did.  It was a beautiful artistic collaboration, and I hope, one of many more to come.

The Passing Storm

Our little family is getting hit hard by a very nasty bug.  Nick and Christian got it first, and I followed a few days later.  I thought that Tessie was going to make it through with just a runny nose, but yesterday the other shoe dropped.  It seemed that out of nowhere, Tes was suddenly very sick.  She was burning up and achy.  My poor girl, there wasn't much I could do besides give her Tylenol and hope it passed quickly.  Last night she went out like a light, and I hoped she would get a great night's sleep and wake up refreshed.  Early this morning I realized we weren't going to get off the hook so easily.

I was awakened at four this morning by mumbling coming from Tessie's bed.  I crept over to find her incredibly hot, breathing quickly, and babbling nonsense.  None of these things seemed like good signs, so I scooped her up and carried her to the living room.  After a lot of convincing, I got her to swallow some Tylenol and then drink some cold water.  I pulled her hair back from her face and lay her on the couch under a light blanket.  Then I put on Tinker Bell, and lay down next to her.  After a while, her breathing slowed, and she fell into a deep sleep.  I curled up next to her and didn't leave her side until morning.

It was apparent this morning that she still felt awful.  She was flushed, lethargic, and super sensitive.  Since I wasn't feeling so hot myself, we just lay around on the couch all morning and watched movies.  Both she and Christian fell asleep early, and slept until well after lunch time.  I even napped a little myself.  After lunch it seemed like she was a little better, but she was still hot and definitely not herself.  After another dose of medicine, I was surprised that she fell asleep for a second time.  This time she slept for a good three hours.  Just before dinner, she started to stir.  I reached my hand out to smooth the hair back from her face, and breathed a deep sigh f relief.  Her forehead was cool, and damp with sweat.  Her fever had broken.  Even though I was sure she would still wake up a bit under the weather, I felt that the storm had passed, and we were sailing in much more beautiful seas.

The Missing Pills

My son gets carsick.  A lovely opener, I know, but it is what's on my mind today.  About a year and a half ago we discovered, during a very unpleasant several hour long drive to my parent's house, just how carsick he gets.  Ever since then we have given him a pill to prevent nausea every time we are planning on a long, or particularly curvy drive.  The pills work like magic, and we are always careful to keep them on hand.  Today I was packing us up for a quick weekend trip to visit my parents, when I started to look for the pills.  Suddenly, I knew exactly where they were.  They were in a zip lock back in Nick's car.  Nick's car was in Albuquerque.  I was not.

After panicking for a minute, I told myself it would be okay.  Christian would probably nap the whole way, and maybe he wouldn't get sick.  I did not believe myself for a second.  I loaded the kids in the car, draped a towel over Christian, and crossed my fingers.  He fell asleep before we were out of the driveway, and I thought that I might be in the clear.  About halfway through our trip he started to stir, and moan, with a very familiar look on his face.  I braced myself.

Somehow I lucked out and he fell back asleep for a while.  He woke up a while later, and although he didn't look great, he had a little color and I managed to distract him for awhile.  Then, about ten minutes from my mom's house, all color drained from his face, and I just knew it was all over.  But I decided I was smarter than the carsickness.  I pulled over, ran to the other side of the car, and got Christian out of his seat like my life depended on it.  I held him up with his face in the wind and held my breath.  Slowly, his cheeks became pink again, and he snuggled up against my chest.  We swayed in the breeze for a while, then I returned him to his seat, and continued on our way.  We made it with no further incident, and as I walked Christian into the house he said "I feel better mom."  Whew.  I have to say, as crazy as it may sound, being able to pull my son back from the brink of carsickness was amazingly beautiful, and made me feel a little awesome.  But I will never misplace his pills again.

Submission

I just put the kids to bed, and seeing how it is barely eight o'clock, I thought I might get a little cleaning done before I hit the sack.  My house is an absolute disaster, I'm talking nuclear, and this was my best shot to get some cleaning done without kids making it counterproductive.  But here's the thing.  I feel awful.  Like total garbage.  This cold, or whatever it is, will not relinquish its hold.  Just looking at the mess is making me ache all over.  So I have decided to ignore it all, and go to bed.  I'm adopting a Scarlet O'Hara attitude, and I'm gonna think about it tomorrow.  I'm gonna crawl in bed, have a glass of wine, read for a few minutes, then hopefully pass out.  And that's it for this evening, my moment today is total submission.  I am giving in.  Tonight, the cold wins.  Maybe tomorrow I will make a beautiful comeback.