Swimming in a Tar Pit

Mood: Exasperated

Listening to: American Pie – Don McLean along with my ghetto-booty wall sleeve air conditioner that will doubtlessly vibrate itself out onto the porch any minute now. Yippee.

I have once more emerged from the black hole of the internets once again to provide you with a taste of the rediculosity that is parenting. I know I’ve been away from a while (again!). I sincerely hope no one is checking back in every few days for inspiration. I hate it when I check back on a blog every day for a month to find the same entry staring me in the face. That’s just kind of how life is going these days.

While I was absent, I took my two progeny to visit my mother, best friend, and grandparents in Chicago and Michigan. For the most part, it was a great trip and fun was had by all. The rest we’ll dig into with a spoon in another blog.

And now for something completely different, last night I was contemplating how detrimental it would be to pipe mashed potatoes in my ears. Just to deaden the noise. You see, my baby is 7.5 months old now, and to my dismay, has decided that she is a screamer. And a yeller. She screams for food, she screams for a clean diaper, she screams to be picked up, she screams because she’s happy. Hell, she screams just for the joy of making so much noise. The problem with all this is that I have wood floors in my apartment and it’s not overly furnished with noise reduction items like love seats and curtains. I seriously have to cover my ears at times it is so shrill. And she does it all the time. She has been so different from my eldest daughter. In almost every aspect, she has been a much more difficult baby. It really calls my sanity into question when I still insist I want more kids.

I’ve always thought that having kids and trying to preserve your own identity is like trying to go swimming in a tar pit. Some people realize this before they have kids and jump in anyway, others, like me, don’t realize it until much later. Of course if you aren’t really interested in preserving your own identity sans kids and are totally sold on a new mommy identity, you have already sunk. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Of course most of us moms that identify with losing our identity get an inordinate amount of joy from said tar pit (i.e. our kids), it still gets a little depressing at times. I’ve told my husband many times that if I were able to just coast along never cooking or cleaning a thing, I’d probably handle motherhood just fine. The minute I start to put fight and cook or clean, little tar limbs appear out of nowhere needing lots of different things. My 4 year old is much better than the baby, but the ability to talk and get bored have inspired her to think of lots of unnecessary things to bother me to fetch for her. I.e. milk, a scissors, finger paints, a taco salad (seriously, wtf?). At least when it’s moderately temperate outside we can go for a walk or to the park. When Mother Nature decides to turn into a steam cooker, we’re not only stuck together, we’re stuck together in my 1000 square foot apartment. For the 18 or so hours they are awake.

*Cue tragic sigh. I’m sure I’ll miss all of this as they get older.
Becky

My Very Own Hypochondriac

Listening to: The air conditioner
Mood: Glad to be in a cool room

My eldest daughter has decided that she likes attention. Well, to be honest, this is a really old decision. The new part of this is the obtaining of attention through blowing any and all injuries, no matter how minor, WAY out of proportion. She’s like that creepy person you just met at the bus stand who now shares way too much information and wants to be your bff. The “take a look at this rash” type that makes you inch down the bench and desperately avoid any and all eye contact until the bus arrives. Not that it helps you any, the person will keep talking at you anyhow. Of course this fits in perfectly with my daughter’s innate ability to be the biggest drama queen ever. She doesn’t cry much when she gets hurt, but she will make sure to remind you 546 times in the next 5 minutes that she does indeed have a booboo on her hand. It bled, and yes, it still hurts. It has gotten to the point where any little sneeze, sniffle, or cough will doubtlessly turn into a raging cold or possibly pneumonia. That’s her story and she’s sticking to it until the next possible malady comes along. Recently, she got a nasty cut on her foot without even realizing it. It was only after I noticed that she had managed to smear blood across the floor (a wood one, thank god!) that she even realized it. It was a pretty decent sized cut on the top of her foot, but she couldn’t even think of how it had come to be there. Then we had to go through the band aid routine. I’m sure all mothers have gone through this. I need a one here……and here……oh, and here……and shoot, just give me the whole box with which to decorate my body because they stick so much better than paper stickers!

Sigh. I need a daiquiri. I’m not a drama person anyhow, but I think the heat and the drama are really getting to me. Yes. I am indeed in immediate need of a frozen drink of the alcoholic type.

Becky

Too Much Touch

Listening to: Clean House
Mood: Tired

Psst. Psst. Over Here. Behind the couch. Shhhhh!! We have to be quiet or they’ll find me. My kids. They’ve sent out a search party already. I’m sure every mom has had moments like the one I’m having right now. Anyone who hasn’t either isn’t spending enough time with their kid(s) or she is lying. My children have decided on a double team attack strategy to make me crazy by never, ever letting me be by myself. Did I mention ever? I really feel bad for my husband, who is decently saran wrap-ish himself, because by the time he comes home, I have built a 3 foot steel bubble around myself. The children will still insist on throwing themselves at it and bouncing off, but by that time, I absolutely need some space. My youngest child was born a Velcro wannabe and her arrival has caused a jealous streak to arise within her elder sister who then decided that being away from me (read not touching me) might mean that I will run away to the circus and never love or think of her again. Now this is ridiculous, but I never could tell that girl anything.

My poor husband just can’t imagine why, at the end of the day, that I don’t want anything to do with anyone overly needy or under 20. It has nothing to do with him at all, but finding one more person telling me plaintively that he’s hungry just irritates me to no end. Especially when that person is 33 with perfectly functional arms and legs. I know this is a pretty common problem for wives, but it just drives me nuts to have another immature person adding to the chaos instead of helping me manage it, like an adult.

Becky

Paging the Common Sense Fairy!

Listening to: Goofy Movie
Mood: Content

So I’m having one of those quirky moments in the universe where I have some time to sit and write while both my kids are awake, but quiet and occupied.

I was on the phone with my mom the other day when I walked next to my TV. I noticed that there were a lot of little white dots all over my TV stand and TV. As I explored, I discovered the salt shaker next to the TV. I asked my eldest daughter why I found salt all over the television. Of course she had no idea why. *Sigh* I thought we had conquered the obsession with the salt shaker and shaking salt all over, but at 4.5, my daughter does not possess enough concentration to remember that salt is for food.

Another example of this happened last weekend. We were visiting my sister in law and her family up in Connecticut. My daughter and her younger cousin were playing in the adult’s bedroom. My sister in law had left the iron on the floor and it was on. My daughter ended up grabbing it. On purpose. When I asked her why she grabbed the iron, she replied that she was curious. Now, we have an iron at home. We have had many, many chats as to how the iron is super hot and how she should never touch it. I felt terrible because she burned her hand, but absolutely amazed at how curiosity could circumvent both knowledge and the survival instinct.

It simply does not occur to my diva girl that just because she hid her milk cup and can’t find it, again, that the universe has not swallowed it up, along with all the rest of the milk in the world. So she panics. Sometimes it’s fun living with a ditzy diva. Life is never boring, she has a fantastic imagination, she cares a lot for others. On the other hand, it’s exhausting to have to think for her most of the time.

Becky

Falling in Love at 4

Listening to: The absolute madhouse chaos of McDonald’s play place on a busy day

Mood: Content

My eldest daughter has a boyfriend. At 4. Well, to be fair, he’s not really a boyfriend, but he is a boy, and according to my daughter he is the love to her and a very good friend. He really likes to play with her at preschool, every single day! I find it both adorable and a little scary all at the same time. My daughter’s version of love, at a ripe old age of 4, is so innocent it’s amazing. He’s just a very good friend, but they are both extraordinarily fond of each other.

It also made me wonder what I’m going to do when she starts dating. We have a good 14 years until that happens (I know, I know, but I can hope anyhow), but I really wonder how I, and more specifically her father, will deal with it. I know I’m biased about my daughter, pretty much everyone is biased about their own kids, but I think she’s on the attractive side of the spectrum. I especially think she has pretty eyes. So after reviewing my own dating experiences and my knowledge of boys in general, I was trying to decide if I should stand at the door with a really big stick or just go right to a shotgun. Perhaps both….

It is my hope that I will raise both my daughters to know their worth and how to judge the nature of a man well enough that I won’t have to deal with any really bad choices, just them growing up. It’s such a fine balance to raise children between the beauty of childhood innocence and shattering it completely to try and protect them from the world by overeducating them about it. I was very sheltered as a child and as a result made some spectacularly bad choices the minute I was out on my own. I thought I could handle certain things that were way beyond my depth. I want to educate my girls to the point that they recognize that the world is a huge, scary, complex place, but not so much that they are scared to go out and make it on their own.

Everyone makes mistakes growing up – it’s inevitable. What matters is the kind of mistakes that you make. Let me give you an example. I’d say that deciding to drink way too much at a party when you’re under aged but then calling your parents to come pick you up is a much smaller mistake than going to that same party and trying to drive yourself home because you think you can handle it. I don’t want any hate mail for this – it’s just an example. I’m not condoning underage drinking or anything like that. In order for your kids to be able to make smart decisions like this, you have to talk to them about the hard stuff. My parents didn’t do this for me. They just said don’t do any of this bad stuff. Or else. I want to take an active roll in my kids thinking about drinking, drugs, and sex. I want them to make smart choices because we have discussed the consequences and they understand them. I’m not knocking my parents. By the time I got old enough to think about this stuff, my mom was on her own dealing with 2 teenagers, and did her best. But now that I have my own kids, I am definitely more prone to thinking how I want to handle this stuff with my own kids.

So until my daughter gets old enough to date, I think I’ll encourage friendships with boys too. It will be good for her to have some friendship experiences with boys too.

Becky

A Sigh of Relief

Listening to: Elder child whining, again.
Mood: Content

We have been having a bit of a difficult time around our house as of late. Most of this difficulty is revolving around my elder daughter, who shall be referred to as AA girl in the rest of this post. You’ll understand this in a minute.

For those who don’t know, AA is 4.4 years old. We also have a 3.5 month old, referred to as Squishy. As AA has been the only child for her 4 short years on earth, she had a reasonably difficult time adjusting to Squishy’s arrival. We were prepared for it though, and it wasn’t really that bad.

So the really intense time started when I had to bring both my girls to the pediatrician last Friday. Unfortunately for them (and indeed, me too) both girls needed shots. When I was a young girl, I had a severe phobia of shots. I could work myself into a panic attack just thinking about getting one. Unfortunately, AA inherited this terror. She had a rather traumatic experience at the Dr.’s office, partly due to her fear and partly due to some insensitive people at the office – but that’s a whole different rant. Since then, she has been the most angry, hateful little girl imaginable. I felt rather like we had slid back into the terrible twos, but with more tricks up her sleeve to hurl at me. She has always behaved in this manner, but not quite so rude and angry. I had really run out of ideas as to how to deal with AA too. On top of this, she is home all day right now for 2 weeks for Easter break. Hubby would come home at night and find me near tears, a rare event indeed, from dealing with both a demanding, fussy, infant and a four year old who argued and was extremely rude and defiant all day.

I finally turned to the internet to find some help or support in how to help my daughter deal with her anger. I happened to come across a page on difficult children. I read through the page on defiance first, but it really didn’t seem to fit my daughter all that well. I moved on to a page on Active Aggressive (AA) children. It was like the heavens opened up with the Hallelujah chorus. That was my daughter – to a T. It was such a relief to not worry that her demeanor was a result of me being a horrible parent. It was a huge sigh of relief. I also found some parenting tips on how to best deal with these types of children, and it has made a night and day difference in my daughter’s behavior. I had some adjustments to make too. It hasn’t been the easiest thing to accept – everyone thinks they know how they should deal with discipline – but sometimes it’s great to have an instruction manual that helps you deal with your type of child. In the past, it had been a constant source of frustration for hubby and I, because we simply ran out of ideas on how to deal with her constant energy and attitude. There really is no professional child person telling you, don’t worry, this method or that method will work, just give it a little time. Instead, we were just growing more and more frustrated as we flipped through ways of dealing with behaviors. It’s kind of sad though. Had I known this information, I could have dealt with some of the stresses in a much more productive manner.

I’ll continue to update you on how it’s going with AA. She’s got a long road ahead of her, but it’s a good one filled with possibilities. I was an AA child myself and I turned out okay. Hopefully her childhood will be even better than mine because her father and I have this info.
Becky

I'm Counting On You

Listening to: Dance of the Cucumber – Veggie Tales
Mood: Tweaking out – guests coming tomorrow.

So I was sitting in the car at a stop light today when my eldest daughter brought forth one of those gems that make you shake your head and thank god you had that 4th martini that resulted in the conception of your child. Erm, Not that I would know anything about these type of things....... Ahem.

I had invited my sister in law over for the weekend with her kids. My eldest daughter (herein referred to as Mrs. Nosy) knew this. In fact, she was informed that unless she was a good girl and helped clean the house – especially her mess – her cousins could not come over. Now obviously, I wouldn’t tell them they couldn’t come if she was bad, but hey, kids don’t figure this out for quite some time. Anyhow, the cable man had come on Monday and needed access to every single freakin closet in my apartment. Living in an apartment, we are at a lack of storage space and all our extra crap is shoved in the closet. We have had all that crap out ever since I had to drag it all out of the closets. Mrs. Nosy’s room also included.

So while we were sitting in the car, Mrs. Nosy informed me, “Mommy, I am really counting on you to clean my room.” I paused for a second and the responded, “Since when do I clean your room?” “No Mommy. All the stuff you took out of the closets. I’m really counting on you. To clean my room up. So my cousins can come over.” I just had to laugh because I have no idea where she learned that phrase.