Monday, June 25, 2012

One step at a time

My little man walks up the steps, dragging his nie-night behind him as he goes. Actually, it's in his mouth as he drags it along. It smells so bad. My first thought is, oh my God that is so disgusting. Not only does the " crunchy" part, the corner that lives in his mouth reek within moments of being plucked from the dryer but it is being dragged across the carpet as he goes. Ok, I think enough is enough.

Then my breath catches inside my throat. My chest tightens and burns for a moment as I notice the lean and lenghtening little body that is dragging that swamp of germs around. He is not a baby anymore. Where did my baby go? The stubby little toes and chubby fingers and cheeks? They are not as noticeably round anymore. Every step higher seems to take him further away from babyhood. " What?" He says, because he seems me looking. " Nothing bud." " WAAA" he screams in his very loud but completely on-the-spot comedic way of his. His words, his precious words: wamwance (ambulance), nemanade (lemonade), booberry (blueberry of course). They are now the words of a little boy very well spoken in phonetics. am-ba-lence. lem-ma-nade. blu-ber-e. You can keep your stinky nie-night as long as you like my little man. Because all that time I wished for faster has caught up with me and is slapping me in the FACE! Now, I will wish; " Slow down! Please slow down," and it will only make time move all the more quickly.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Conversations with Alex

Why do 3 year old boys have such a fascination with all things butt and poop???

( While he is on the potty at my brother's house, during a party)

Alex: (grunting and groaning) I hate poops. I don't want a hiney anymore, I think I'll only drink. That would be ok if I only drink because my peanut is for the drinks and not the eats. I don't want to eat anymore.

Me: Ok, just finish up here so we can get cleaned up and back to the party.

Alex: Why? Because my poops stink?

Me: That too, but there are other people who need to use the bathroom.

Alex: Wait, wait, wait, neverminds there aren't anymore. Can I have some cake?

( Lying in bed watching TV) ( Kitty is watching TV too)

Alex: Why do cats have different butts?

Me: Because they are cats, and not people.

Alex: It's a skeleton butt.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Why do I do this to myself

How do I reconcile this overwhelming feeling of " I can't keep them safe if I can't see them?" When a mother has a new baby to being home there is this intense, overwhelming feeling of fear, at least there was for me. This little, tiny perfect but completely helpless baby is mine. This baby is of me. This baby is from me and part of me. This baby is my responsibility to keep safe and alive. For me, the fear was exponential to anything I ever felt. It is something that I have struggled with 3 times. I doubted my ability to do it. To keep them safe, and health and breathing. Part of my brain told me over and over again that I needed to give 100% of my self to my babies just so they didn't stop breathing. Overwhelming. PTSD at it's finest. I have seen babies who have died. Whose parents did everything "right" and something just happened and their baby dies. That was what my brain told me I must guard against. That is a huge task. It bit deep into me and my fear of them not breathing if I couldn't see them wore me out. Mentally and physically. Perhaps you can understand this, even to a small extent, because you have children too. But you have a normal world and a normal brain so you get past it by learning ever minute that you can do this. I got it, it just took medication, I can chuckle at that now but for a long time I was ashamed to admit I was on medication. But seriously after not sleeping at all for 8 days, something had to give...

Flash forward to those babies that I panicked about day in and day out for a really long time are now 7 and 5 and 3. They are healthy, happy, active and smart. I did it so far. And now, now I am back to almost step 1 of the process because we got a pool. Mind you it's not a 10 foot deep in-ground pool. It is a 1000 gallon, 30 inch deep pool that they are totally freaking thrilled about having. But the 3 year old was already trapped by his freaking, goddamn life jacket on his belly and he couldn't figure out how to stand up. So, the next statement is that I want to take it down. You see, I have to go to work tomorrow and will not be here with them and my husband, their dad, to watch them like a fucking hawk so nobody drowns unnoticed ( because a noticed drowning is soooo much better, fuck.) My husband says my piece of mind is worth the cost of water and hassle to put it back up when I am ready for it. For any normal worry wart that would be a relief. But not this freak. I don't want to disappoint the kids. For fucking real lady? Worry about them drowning, but then continue worrying about that because you don't want them to cry about spilled water. Yeah, because I never, ever got shit like this when I was a kid. We didn't have a pool. There isn't anything really to do either around here for the kids, so a pool was a great option. Until I realized TONIGHT at MIDNIGHT that they could totally get into the damn thing and drown if I am not watching like a hawk. I hate myself and these fights I have with myself. I second guess everything because I am not sure if I am over reacting or not. And, why didn't I think about the huge drowning danger that I was placing in my yard, my yard where I JUST got comfortable with them playing in ALONE -- like without hawking them, BEFORE buying the damn thing and making them fucking happy for 2 whole days?

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Very Belated Happy Mother's Day

A totally, totally, totally STOLEN post and words but oh SO RIGHT!
A Prayer For All Mothers

“First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.”


Monday, May 21, 2012

He tells me, I have been doing better. We went to the flower show. Things are better between us. If things are so much better why does it hurt so much?

Friday, May 18, 2012

No Happily Ever After

I have such a feeling of despair. How deep it runs is shocking to me. I can't really even pinpoint exactly when it started.

From the moment I met him, I was drawn to his quietness. He didn't have much to say and seemed so shy. I know that he lacked confidence in the girl department. That didn't bother me, it was endearing. He treated me more respect than any guy I had ever known, dated, liked, loved. It meant a lot at that time. I had been out of a very, very, very bad relationship for about a year I guess when we started dating. It was so refreshing having a guy who was so thoughtful, so respectful. We didn't really share too many interests though.

We met at the firehouse, the one that I had been a volunteer in for 5 years. The place where I had already gained the respect of the guys because they knew when push comes to shove, I shove as hard they do. I could do my job, well. I could help others do their job well. He was there because of his best friend. He was a bit out of place, but he did the job. He didn't excel. Physically he wasn't all that cut out for it really. But I didn't care. It didn't matter to me at all.

Maybe the fact that when he would not stop socializing with my ex, the one who tried to grind me in the dirt, until I told him it was me or him that I should have known he would never have the common sense to know how to make a relationship work. The things that people " get " naturally, he did not. The first time you invite your new girlfriend over to hang out you shouldn't plop yourself in front of a computer screen. I laughed it off, because I knew he was inexperienced, and I actually grew to expect it and used the time to nap - I was in college FT, working nearly FT and volunteering FT too. I figured if part of being with him was his games than I could just catch up on my sleep. He sure didn't mind.

I hadn't really given too much thought to weather or not this was something that defined who he was. I should have thought it. My fault.

Slowly the things I loved got pushed aside because he wasn't into it. Like biking, hiking, taking Jake to the parks. I don't know why I didn't have enough confidence in my own self to be happy with myself and not need a guy. I realize now that I need to feel like someone loves me and will take care of me. It probably comes from having a mother who did not, does not, and probably never will. I don't know the psychology behind it, but I am sure it is there.

Maybe I am too complacent, it was easy to be with him. Even when I felt like he never wanted to do anything but sit in front of a screen, he still treated me better than anyone else had. I wanted for nothing for the most part, if I saw something that I liked he eventually bought it for me, though that was not my motive. So the fact that I was giving up little parts of me didn't seem to matter. I know that he genuinely loved me then, and loves me now. But I am no longer sure why. The person I am or was, is so far gone that even I don't like being me. I hate that I have allowed myself to become a couch potato. I hate not having made it a huge point to share my love of nature with my children and show them why I loved it so much.

Before we got married, I told him that I wanted a family. Mom, Dad, kids who were a unit. I wanted him to be an involved father. If he couldn't do that I needed to know. I told him that the computer could not interfere. I told him if I ever came home from work and he was ignoring the baby because he was in front of the computer, I would throw it out the window. Even grown kids know idle threats I guess. I should have stood up for the marriage and relationship I wanted before now. Part of me didn't think I should or could. I felt selfish because my parents adore him. The mother who has never been there for me, I should have seen the clue. But my dad too, my dad thinks the world of him and whenever I have tried to tell him that I shoulder every responsibility and can not rely on him he made light of it, so I let it go. Clearly there is something wrong with me and my expectations. I am selfish. I want more than I deserve. The phrases are imbedded in my brain first placed by my mother, pounded in by the boyfriend from hell. Never taken and thrown away. Always those thoughts linger. Just because he is nice and doesn't hit and doesn't call names, does that mean that I don't deserve to feel as though I can rely on him to be my rock, to the rock of our children? I had always put him first. I guess that is what happens when you never put yourself first, you always feel like you deserve less.

I just don't know how to fix this. I have told him how let down I am. He was fired from his job in September and still does not have another job that has prospect for health insurance and some stability. He has had one interview. He thinks that it is ok because he is trying to find a new career. But what about the rest of us? My life is seriously the only one that has changed. I am so sleep deprived from really long, really crazy work hours and he can not remember to take the kids backpacks to school. WTF.

I cry so much right now, not knowing how to make this right for my kids, for me. I don't want to live like this. Sad, overwhelmed, frightened for our security. I don't want to my children's dad from them. But when do I start to take care of me? Do I get the right as a mother to make these decisions? Somewhere along the way I lost my best friend, was it my own damn fault?

Thursday, February 16, 2012

And Alex says:

Ok Alex, you can unbuckle your seat belts now. " I can't Mommy, that's not my job." You can do it bud, mommy said it's ok. " But it's not Saturday, it's only my job on Saturday." I really don't know how he comes up with this stuff.

There he is proudly displaying his new hair do- " my spikes." He totally cheesed it up for the camera on his own with several poses that were completely unprompted and adorable and hysterical!