"i am so going to be blogging about that!"
"i just posted about that exact thing!"
"did you read my blog?"
all things i have not been saying lately. i am still here. just havent had much to post about.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
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Monday, March 9, 2009
and then i automatically cried
the decision to have children was an easy one for me, it was the actualization of that decision that brought my baggage to the surface. infertility was a difficult course for me. it brought to the surface many things that i didnt realize were hiding out in there. not just physical health, but emotional health as well. when i really think back about my life, it was probably always there, sometimes just more buried than others. depression has weaved its way in and out of my life always creeping up at the most inopportune times. you are a newlywed and just landed a new job in the internet world, yay, now lets see if you can get out of bed and pretend like you didnt cry yourself to sleep last night. you just had two babies at once, yay, now lets spiral into a deep dark hole. you just moved into a new house, your dream house, stop crying and get over it. its never a good time for it. and by now, you would think i would know a better way to deal with it. medicine, check. therapy, check. medicine and therapy, check, check. yet, it always finds its way back.
there are legacies, traits, memories, and keepsakes that i would like to pass along to my children. depression is not one of them. i would prefer to box it up, stash it way in the back of the attic and leave it to be uncovered by the archeologists of the centuries to come.
i worry about f. he has a hard time keeping his emotions in check. at 5, this is somewhat to be expected. he is very hard on himself and wants to be sucessful at every new endeavor right out of the gate. he doesnt understand that 5 year olds dont know how to ride bikes the first time they get on them or read a book the first time they crack the spine. he thinks he should be able to do it all perfectly on the first attempt. try as we might to tell him things take practice and mistakes are a good and necessary part of learning, he still breaks down when things dont go his way. these are not the temper tantrums of a child who didnt get his way, these are the body wracking cries of a boy who didnt succeed and is disappointed in himself. the ugly cry where you cant catch your breath and explaining why you are crying would actually require being able to get a breath to form a sentence or even a word. j. and i have been working with him to find ways to get through these times, which f. has started to refer to as "and then i automatically cried." we are teaching him deep breathing techniques and thinking of a time when you were happy until you can calm down enough to talk about what is going on. all the while reminding him that no one scored a goal their first time out, or knew how to swim without lessons or practice. i wish i knew where this pressure came from, i would flip that switch in a heartbeat. isnt that our role as parents, to protect, to save them from as much heart ache as possible? to give them a better life than we ourselves have.
last week on a perfectly normal and happy day after all the children were safely tucked in bed i heard the tell tale footsteps of an untucked child. f. appeared in the door way, tears streaming down his face and wanted to know if i could think of a time when he was happy. he was trying to talk himself down, trying to use the techniques we taught him, but he couldnt come up with something, anything(?!) how about the time you conducted the band? or the time you learned to swim? or reading the book to your brothers earlier today? these seemed to do the trick and eased his tears. nothing was wrong, it was just the automatic crying. i scooped him up, gave him a big hug, told him i loved him, walked him back upstairs and snuggled with him extra long that night. after he was settled i came back down stairs. and then i automatically cried.
there are legacies, traits, memories, and keepsakes that i would like to pass along to my children. depression is not one of them. i would prefer to box it up, stash it way in the back of the attic and leave it to be uncovered by the archeologists of the centuries to come.
i worry about f. he has a hard time keeping his emotions in check. at 5, this is somewhat to be expected. he is very hard on himself and wants to be sucessful at every new endeavor right out of the gate. he doesnt understand that 5 year olds dont know how to ride bikes the first time they get on them or read a book the first time they crack the spine. he thinks he should be able to do it all perfectly on the first attempt. try as we might to tell him things take practice and mistakes are a good and necessary part of learning, he still breaks down when things dont go his way. these are not the temper tantrums of a child who didnt get his way, these are the body wracking cries of a boy who didnt succeed and is disappointed in himself. the ugly cry where you cant catch your breath and explaining why you are crying would actually require being able to get a breath to form a sentence or even a word. j. and i have been working with him to find ways to get through these times, which f. has started to refer to as "and then i automatically cried." we are teaching him deep breathing techniques and thinking of a time when you were happy until you can calm down enough to talk about what is going on. all the while reminding him that no one scored a goal their first time out, or knew how to swim without lessons or practice. i wish i knew where this pressure came from, i would flip that switch in a heartbeat. isnt that our role as parents, to protect, to save them from as much heart ache as possible? to give them a better life than we ourselves have.
last week on a perfectly normal and happy day after all the children were safely tucked in bed i heard the tell tale footsteps of an untucked child. f. appeared in the door way, tears streaming down his face and wanted to know if i could think of a time when he was happy. he was trying to talk himself down, trying to use the techniques we taught him, but he couldnt come up with something, anything(?!) how about the time you conducted the band? or the time you learned to swim? or reading the book to your brothers earlier today? these seemed to do the trick and eased his tears. nothing was wrong, it was just the automatic crying. i scooped him up, gave him a big hug, told him i loved him, walked him back upstairs and snuggled with him extra long that night. after he was settled i came back down stairs. and then i automatically cried.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
controlled chaos
as any mother with more than one young child (and absolutely a mother of multiples) will tell you: sometimes life is controlled chaos. one of the most chaotic portions of the day during the school week is getting three children dressed and ready to get out the door and be at the bus stop by 8:15am. most days it is a race. most days m&k stay in the car at the bus stop, because there are about 40 other kids there running around and that is chaos enough, but also because often they are likely to still be in pj's. this video is what a typical morning in my house looks like. one child with a faux hawk in preparation for "wacky wednesday" at school; one child throwing a fit because - well frankly, who the heck knows why; and the third child happy as can be running around with only a diaper and a BK crown in 17 degree weather. so in other words, its wednesday at my house. enjoy the video.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
capturing time
big changes have been afoot this month. m&k have made the transition from cribs to toddler beds. mostly it has been a smooth transition, but there have been some interesting (as my friend d. would say) moments along the way. one day in, after the first nap in the beds, we smelled the rug mural before we even entered k.'s room and immediately had to wage a sanitation war against said mural with a very deep steam clean of the rug. the boys will now be donning onesies until they enter college or are potty trained, whatever happens first. i will make use of duct tape if need be!
f., as usual, is cracking me up these days. this morning at the bus stop he says, psst, mommy come here and listen. i am going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to laugh. so i reply, ok, tell me. he shares, yesterday i fell in the potty at j.'s house! and really, how could i not laugh? i am still laughing about it.
f. is also starting to read!! i am surprised by his skills. it is so interesting to watch how your child learns. he loves math and asks me to solve equations *all day long* mommy, what is fivethousandthreehundredandone pluses onemillion? mommy, what is one pluses onehundredmillionandforty. mommy, six pluses six is twelve. i dont have the heart to tell him that i hate math. i mean hate it! always have. i have no idea where this interest has been sparked in him and i am pretty sure that i will soon be in over my head with his math equations. as it is i have to stop what i am doing and carry the one more than i would like. he is making good friends in school and the neighborhood and has really adjusted to this move like a total champ. i am eternally grateful for the adaptive nature of children.
m. is still celebrating language. for every word that k. is not saying, m. is saying 250. he loves to snuggle and cuddle. even though he was not even close to climbing out of his crib, we felt like since we needed to move k., it was only fair to move m. as well, to a big boy bed. he has really taken to it. i think mostly he is enjoying the autonomy of controlling the open vs. shut position of his bedroom door. the first night he delighted for at least 2 hours in the ability to open and close the door. for two hours straight. seriously, two hours. j., f. and i watched madagascar 2 and the entire time m. was opening and closing his bedroom door and giggling at the shear control. he will close the door and get in bed and go to sleep when he is ready. there is no putting him in bed, and for now that is fine. as a thirtysomething i still ignore my body telling me is bedtime. to have it down at 2 is pretty impressive.
k. is starting to explore the idea of talking a bit more. mostly though, he has just gotten more expressive in his use of "ma" or "da". he conveys soo much with his eyes. i just keeping doing as the therapist recommends and giving him the opportunity to use his words and then pretend that i know what he said. its not unusual to overhear an exchange like this in our house:
k: ma
me: patiently waiting for words to emerge
k: MA
me: patiently waiting for words to emerge
k (eyebrows expressively raised): MAAA
me: you want a book?
k: giggling in delight as he has again conveyed his need monosylabically.
k. continues to give kisses out in copious amounts. he will not get in bed at night without planting a kiss on every living being and some non living beings in our household. i am soaking it up while i can. storing it all up for the days when it will no longer be cool for him, or any of my children, to plant a kiss squarely on my lips. a kiss, of course, that was proceeded by an expressive "MMMMAAA"
f., as usual, is cracking me up these days. this morning at the bus stop he says, psst, mommy come here and listen. i am going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to laugh. so i reply, ok, tell me. he shares, yesterday i fell in the potty at j.'s house! and really, how could i not laugh? i am still laughing about it.
f. is also starting to read!! i am surprised by his skills. it is so interesting to watch how your child learns. he loves math and asks me to solve equations *all day long* mommy, what is fivethousandthreehundredandone pluses onemillion? mommy, what is one pluses onehundredmillionandforty. mommy, six pluses six is twelve. i dont have the heart to tell him that i hate math. i mean hate it! always have. i have no idea where this interest has been sparked in him and i am pretty sure that i will soon be in over my head with his math equations. as it is i have to stop what i am doing and carry the one more than i would like. he is making good friends in school and the neighborhood and has really adjusted to this move like a total champ. i am eternally grateful for the adaptive nature of children.
m. is still celebrating language. for every word that k. is not saying, m. is saying 250. he loves to snuggle and cuddle. even though he was not even close to climbing out of his crib, we felt like since we needed to move k., it was only fair to move m. as well, to a big boy bed. he has really taken to it. i think mostly he is enjoying the autonomy of controlling the open vs. shut position of his bedroom door. the first night he delighted for at least 2 hours in the ability to open and close the door. for two hours straight. seriously, two hours. j., f. and i watched madagascar 2 and the entire time m. was opening and closing his bedroom door and giggling at the shear control. he will close the door and get in bed and go to sleep when he is ready. there is no putting him in bed, and for now that is fine. as a thirtysomething i still ignore my body telling me is bedtime. to have it down at 2 is pretty impressive.
k. is starting to explore the idea of talking a bit more. mostly though, he has just gotten more expressive in his use of "ma" or "da". he conveys soo much with his eyes. i just keeping doing as the therapist recommends and giving him the opportunity to use his words and then pretend that i know what he said. its not unusual to overhear an exchange like this in our house:
k: ma
me: patiently waiting for words to emerge
k: MA
me: patiently waiting for words to emerge
k (eyebrows expressively raised): MAAA
me: you want a book?
k: giggling in delight as he has again conveyed his need monosylabically.
k. continues to give kisses out in copious amounts. he will not get in bed at night without planting a kiss on every living being and some non living beings in our household. i am soaking it up while i can. storing it all up for the days when it will no longer be cool for him, or any of my children, to plant a kiss squarely on my lips. a kiss, of course, that was proceeded by an expressive "MMMMAAA"
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
shift
i know that i need to take responsibility as well, but i am feeling this shift in a friendship that makes my heart hurt. nearly 6 years ago a woman came into my life and i knew immediately she was someone i wanted to be friends with and get to know better. we seemed to have so much in common and the friendship was easily forged over coffee, watching over our collective charges, nights out (and even away) without the children, and even vacationing together with our families. laughter and tears both came easily and were always met with the same energy. there were days when we would talk on the phone more than once, and neither one of us apologized for calling for the third time that day about what was going on in our lives (in the last ten minutes). we were always planning the next time we would see each other even when the next was only minutes away. it was effortless. and then m&k were born.
i dont mean that to sound like m&k are in any way at fault, i know they are not. but when i think about how this friendship began to shift, it all points back to that time in my life. spending 5 weeks alone in the hospital can be a very alienating thing. although my friend came to visit me often, sometimes 3 or 4 times in a week, i still felt the shift begin to occur when m&k were born. i felt incredibly alone and isolated during those 5 weeks. my body was consumed with building two lives and my brain was too. when i was finally no longer confined to those 4 bedrest walls, my world only got bigger in drips and drabs. i remember leaving the hospital the first day and physically feeling how loud everything was outside of that room. i had changed, my mind functioned in a new way, even my body was different. physically, i could feel the noise of the outside world. i was now the mother of 3 boys, two of whom were clinging to life in the NICU. i needed my friends to hold me up. i needed someone to sit with me and cry with me. i needed to not be doing that alone in the bathroom at the hospital. i needed.
maybe i allowed the insanity of mothering two premature babies at once, not to mention keeping the schedule of their older brother, offer me an excuse not to pick up the phone as often as i once had done without a second thought. maybe i allowed that excuse to continue even when i was again feeling human, when i could no longer feel the noise physically. there were still shared coffees, and nights out, and collectively watching over our charges, but all of it was less frequent. sadly, all of it seemed to require soo much more effort, on both ends. now when i see that friend, we fill the silence with things like "i havent seen you in soo long" or "i cant remember when i saw you last." somehow the things that we used to share when we talked on the phone for the third time in one day no longer seem worthy of even a weekly phone call. more often than not i find myself surprised when it comes to light that something monumental has happened to one or the other of us, and we are just finding out months later in a sort of off handed way. i find myself saying, "oh, i thought i told you that." maybe i did and she forgot, maybe i didnt and i forgot. maybe it just didnt seem worth it.
now we are at the point where it takes several days to return an email, and even longer to return a phone call. a phone call which almost always goes to voicemail. plans have to be arranged weeks in advance, and then often change at the last minute. i am feeling this shift in a friendship. my heart is hurting and i dont know what to do.
i dont mean that to sound like m&k are in any way at fault, i know they are not. but when i think about how this friendship began to shift, it all points back to that time in my life. spending 5 weeks alone in the hospital can be a very alienating thing. although my friend came to visit me often, sometimes 3 or 4 times in a week, i still felt the shift begin to occur when m&k were born. i felt incredibly alone and isolated during those 5 weeks. my body was consumed with building two lives and my brain was too. when i was finally no longer confined to those 4 bedrest walls, my world only got bigger in drips and drabs. i remember leaving the hospital the first day and physically feeling how loud everything was outside of that room. i had changed, my mind functioned in a new way, even my body was different. physically, i could feel the noise of the outside world. i was now the mother of 3 boys, two of whom were clinging to life in the NICU. i needed my friends to hold me up. i needed someone to sit with me and cry with me. i needed to not be doing that alone in the bathroom at the hospital. i needed.
maybe i allowed the insanity of mothering two premature babies at once, not to mention keeping the schedule of their older brother, offer me an excuse not to pick up the phone as often as i once had done without a second thought. maybe i allowed that excuse to continue even when i was again feeling human, when i could no longer feel the noise physically. there were still shared coffees, and nights out, and collectively watching over our charges, but all of it was less frequent. sadly, all of it seemed to require soo much more effort, on both ends. now when i see that friend, we fill the silence with things like "i havent seen you in soo long" or "i cant remember when i saw you last." somehow the things that we used to share when we talked on the phone for the third time in one day no longer seem worthy of even a weekly phone call. more often than not i find myself surprised when it comes to light that something monumental has happened to one or the other of us, and we are just finding out months later in a sort of off handed way. i find myself saying, "oh, i thought i told you that." maybe i did and she forgot, maybe i didnt and i forgot. maybe it just didnt seem worth it.
now we are at the point where it takes several days to return an email, and even longer to return a phone call. a phone call which almost always goes to voicemail. plans have to be arranged weeks in advance, and then often change at the last minute. i am feeling this shift in a friendship. my heart is hurting and i dont know what to do.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
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