Our Loss

On Monday, November 16th, the day our son turned 1 1/2 years old, we suffered the greatest loss we have ever experienced. I had been 6 weeks pregnant with what we believed to be our second child; our first daughter. We had decided to wait to tell our family and friends until Thanksgiving. We made a cute shirt for our son to wear that said, "I'm going to be a big brother!" We had planned on having him wear it to Thanksgiving dinner. We had planned on so many things. After much debate, we decided having our children 2 years apart would be perfect and that an early summer baby was great because then I'd have off the summer and the first part of the school year for a total of 5 months at home with my kids. We had basically chosen her name; Taylor. I had planned out her nursery in my mind. We had not even officially been to the doctor, but for some reason we just knew she was a girl. My sister and best friend, who did not even know I was pregnant, both had dreams about me having a girl, and that just solidified what we already knew in our hearts.

Well, all those perfect plans ended on Monday night when I started experiencing menstrual-like cramps. I knew something was wrong. I feared for the worse, but prayed nonetheless and tried to continue our evening activities as if it would all be ok. After putting our son to bed, I called the doctor and while I was on the phone began to bleed. This was not just any old blood, but blood mixed with the remains of my child. If you have never experienced this, there are not even words to describe the pain and heartbreak that we have been going through. I drove myself to the hospital while my husband took care of our son. At the hospital I openly laid myself down on benches surrounded by sick people, and all the while experienced pains like that of early labor, crying, bleeding, heart-broken. When I went back to get my initial check-in with the nurse, he had the nerve to say, well could you be pregnant. "Well yes, I was anyway." I replied. His response, "Well what might have caused you not to be anymore?" I wanted to punch him, pull his stupid ears off of his head and spit in his face. "How the fuck should I know?!" as I am bent over in intense pain and anguish.

Our neighbors went to our house to watch our son so my husband could be with me. He arrived just as I was being brought into the ER room. After exams, needles, ultrasounds, etc. it was undetermined if I was actually having a miscarriage or if I had an ectopic pregnancy. I was admitted for the night, my first night away from my son, to be watched and retested in the morning.

As the nurse wheeled me to my room for the night, I kept seeing signs for labor and delivery. I was supposed to be going there in July, not now. It was like whips slapping my face. When I was wheeled into my room the first thing I saw was a picture of a baby, directly in front of my hospital bed, and promoting breastfeeding. My heart ached. How could they be so insensitive? Yes this was the mother, baby, and women wing of the hospital, but I could not have been the first woman admitted for a loss.

As I laid in my bed, crying, empty, I could not help but feel guilty. My initial thought was, why was God punishing me? But the more I have thought about it the more I am realizing he was trying to teach me. Which lessons?- Mostly to be grateful for my husband, who I have not valued as I should have the past few months. -To stop trying to control everything. -To appreciate everybody and everything that I have. I am grateful for the opening of my eyes, but my heart still hurts, for it was not my baby's fault that I was so selfish and ungrateful. I feel like she was sacrificed because of my foolishness. Will this wound ever heal? Will God ever give us another child? Will my daughter forgive me in heaven?

I was sent home on Tuesday morning after another ultrasound and blood test confirmed I was experiencing a miscarriage. I am grateful it was not an ectopic pregnancy. Mostly I am grateful that my husband is my rock; forgiving, understanding, loving, and forever my partner. I am grateful I have a perfect 18 month old son at home, who is everything a mother could want in a child. I am grateful for my family who has helped us through this grief and pain. And I am grateful that God is grace and always present.

-Mama K

Bye Bye Breastfeeding

So Trouble is officially weaned from the breast. It's been quite the experience I'll tell you. It started with complete and utter sadness and worry, but once I gave myself permission to take it slow, it became much more natural. He is doing great and is sleeping better at night too! I have the overwhelming sense of freedom and it's mostly guilt free. I haven't felt this way in a while. I LOVED breastfeeding and will do it again for sure, but I will admit that it's nice not feeling that I have to be so tied down. I'm enjoying staying out later with neighborhood friends, having a few drinks here and there, and even want to go out with some girlfriends for once! It's been ages since I've done that, and I better do it soon, because despite this joyful freedom, I'm pretty ready to get pregnant again and then it'll be bye bye freedom again for at least another couple years!
-Mama K

I think I just found the secret of life...

Sassy has started saying "Mama, me happy!" and "me love mama!" Those have got to be the two best sentences ever uttered. She's so sweet and adorable when she says these things. But what strikes me the most is how genuine she is when she says it. Sometimes she says it when we are doing something special, out to a fun lunch with "pink milkshakes," and its no surprise that she's having a good time. But more often than not, she says it when we're just sitting at home sharing a bowl of fruit (or something equally mundane). The point is, that my daughter is happy and that is the most important thing. I may be exhausted, money may be tight, the bills are looming and and she needs a new (insert clothing outgrown ridiculously quickly); but none of that matters. Because she is happy and is open and free with her emotions. So all is right with my world.

Ahhh!

My daughter has just recently turned the big 0-2. The good news is that she ate the cake rather than mashing it into her hair and clothing. The not-so-good news is that my little baby is becoming a child and there's no stopping it.

In the beginning, my only real concern was keeping the child healthy with diet, exercise, hygiene and, you know, making sure she was hitting all those milestones. Now that she's verbally and cognitively capable of dealing with complex situations, I need to release the maternal floodgates of guidance! In Western culture, there are so many options in nearly every facet of life and it can really be confusing to someone who's just jumping in the game and I need to be there to make sure she's on the right path in life!

.... but there's a problem.

Religion, Society, Politics, Education and Media are all overwhelming and abstract concepts on which even I don't fully know where to stand. How do I provide my children with confident views of the world when I don't know what the heck I'm doing? Do I just fake it? Pick a way of life and bam, that's the way it is? Do I share my free-thinking, head-shaking, fist-pumping, "I don't know" mantra wailing, weeble-wobble mode of thought knowing that, like for me, it will create countless nights of why-wondering weakness and the loss of respect?

I mean, I'll have to agree that being an agnostic is like being an atheist without balls.

However, going through life with a neutered mind is a lot safer, and I'll have to say wiser, than bursting through it blindly with macho ego and stubborn habits. Be that as it may, I can't help but be reminded of Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night and feel that if my children will not go gentle into that good night, then perhaps they shouldn't go gentle through the day either! So, which would make life more exciting and enjoyable? Not knowing what the hell you're doing and perhaps never finding out what's right or knowing exactly what you're doing with the possibility of being completely wrong? Does it even matter? Obviously there are families who live a million different ways and experience much joy.

I would kind of like her to be a free-thinker like me, but the cynicism can be a little much sometimes. Perhaps what I will focus on with my children is compassion. They should really teach that in school, like Ellen said on her show. History, English, Math, Science, Compassion. That would be nice, wouldn't it? In the meantime, it will all be on me and the husband to show the kiddos what it's all about, or at least what we know about it. I want my kids to grow up and say that from their parents they learned compassion, peace, tolerance, joy, love and an appreciation for clubhouse sandwiches.

That doesn't sound too difficult! I can do it! Yeah! Er.. Hmm. It's going to take a lot of work. Baby steps. Pretty sure I can get the ball rolling with that appreciation for clubhouse sandwiches at any rate... and that will consequently make her joyous!

Hey, it's a start!

Separation Anxiety

I'm apologizing in advance the rambling and disorganization that will likely follow. I'm a bit emotional today. So first off, we are in the process of weaning Trouble. Why? Well mainly because now that he is a year old he technically does not need breastmilk anymore and there is a glimmer of hope or a prayer at least, that maybe once he stops nursing he will actually sleep at night. Reason number 2, Hubby is pushing it a little. I don't know why, but he is. So thus far we have cut back to morning, bedtime, and two middle of the night nursing sessions. No more bottles while I am at work, which means I don't have to pump anymore. You'd think I'd be shouting hooray for that, but I almost burst into tears on Friday during my last pumping session. I don't know why. I'm beginning to think that I'm having post-partum depression a year late. So today was my first day with Trouble where I had to go all day without nursing him. He has been fine the past 2 weeks while I'm at work without his bottles (according to Hubby and the nanny), and this morning he was fine too. But this afternoon, he wanted milk. It was tough to not nurse. He won't drink cow's milk. I'm really hoping it will grow on him because that would make it so much easier. So juice and water have to substitute and they aren't quite the same. Plus my boobs felt huge today. And it makes me sad that they are gradually going to produce less and less and then just become loose, ugly, useless balloons, until I have my next baby. To make matters worse, I don't see an end in sight. I honestly don't believe he is going to sleep better once he is completely weaned. I don't think I'll ever sleep again. He used to fall asleep on his own (and he still does for naps), but now he just wants to be rocked to sleep and Hubby can't ever get him to go back to sleep, so how is he ever going to learn not to nurse at night unless I just let him cry and cry and cry. I don't want to do that. I can't. I keep thinking: Treat others the way you want to be treated. I wouldn't want to cry myself to sleep. I wouldn't want to be calling for my mom and have her just never come until it was convenient for her (i.e. the morning). Letting him cry seems like the easy way out. I don't take the easy way out. I have to be the best and do everything the best, but I'm at a loss. Why won't he sleep? And now, the last time I do actually nurse him, which I imagine might be in less than a month, it'll be in the middle of the night. And I bet I'll have to just say, no. I'll have to just sit in my bedroom and say, :"No I am not going in there to nurse him." Yeah Hubby can go in to try and comfort him, but I bet it won't work. I bet he'll still cry and cry and yell "MAMA!" It makes me wonder if he's not ready to wean. But if not now then when? When I'm so exhausted that I can't function anymore? When he has to because there is another baby I have to nurse (who mind you will likely leave me just as exhausted)?

And now for my second point (or whatever number I'm on). Separation Anxiety. Yes, Trouble is likely dealing with this again since he won't fall asleep on his own anymore. But I'm the one who is really dealing with it. I think I've left him with a sitter maybe 3 times by choice since he's been born. Yes I work full time so I have to leave him for that, but that doesn't really count because I have to. And because I have to leave him so much for work I never want to leave him any other time. Hubby and I rarely get any alone time because I won't go. But what's the point? I have nurse Trouble before he goes to bed and then I have to get home in time before he wakes up again to nurse. It used to be that I didn't want a sitter to have to give him a bottle because then I'd have to pump, but now he's done with bottles, so I don't even have that option.

I just want him to sleep. To peacefully sleep. Without crying. Without waking (until morning of course). I want to feel like I can have a little freedom. I want the guilt to go away.

Un-Healthy : (

Its amazing how we can take our health for granted. Its also amazing how much scarier it is when your child gets sick than when anyone else in the universe gets sick. I have been completely unprepared how helpless I would feel when the health of my child was in question. Handsome is our high need child, and has been to the pediatrician more times than Sassy but its always been a minor issue and nothing to worry about. But this time we found a lump. Those are words that you never want to hear or say; nothing good can possibly come from them. I had to take my precious little man to the ER and for hours of testing and we still know nothing. Well, that's not entirely true, we know its not anything that will require emergency surgery. They've sent us home for the weekend and we will try for more answers next week. He's happy and doesn't seem to be in any pain, so that is good.

But I can not stop my mind from reeling with the possibilities of what could be wrong with him. I am overwhelmed with thoughts; I worry that he'll need more tests and procedures that will be painful (I'm not even thrilled with the idea of uncomfortable). I worry that those tests will result in a surgery, and I have about a million worries about surgery. I worry that there could be permanent damage done to him. I feel guilty because I can't fix it. I feel guilty because I wonder if something I did (or didn't do) while I was pregnant caused this to happen to him. I worry about the cost of all of this medical care. I worry we didn't find it in time. I hate all of the waiting.

And then on the other hand I am thankful that we have good insurance and are able to take him to the best pediatricians and hospitals. I am thankful that we found the lump. I am thankful that he's otherwise healthy and that Sassy is healthy. I'm thankful that this is the first time we've had to deal with anything like this. I am thankful that he didn't need emergency surgery. I am thankful that he isn't in any pain. And I am thankful for all of the friends and family we have to lean on during times like this; people that I tend to forget care so much for me and my little family.

With any luck this will just be a reminder from the universe of our mortality and a gentle nudge toward living a more full and gracious life.

Fingers crossed!
T

Parent Trap

I wish we could make a real life "Parent Trap." You know, like the movie. Except in this version I'd get to switch positions with one of the other mamas on this blog (except keep our own kiddos) and get to experience what it's like to be a stay-at-home-mom, while they experience what it's like to be a full-time working mom. I envy them so much. Yes I hear them complain about the neverending daily battles, etc., etc., but what they don't know is the pain and sadness that comes with leaving your baby day after day. Feeling like you aren't even really raising your child completely because the nanny is with them most of their waking hours. Feeling like you should have never bought a house because then you could have been a SAHM. Feeling like you work to pay for daycare. Feeling like you can never be completely great at anything anymore because you always pulled in ten million different directions. Yes, I have gotten much better about leaving Trouble so I can go to work. I think I blocked out the painful first three months when he was in daycare. Oh how I hate daycare. I am so thankful we have a nanny I trust and can afford. I thank God that he is able to run a muck in our own home and have the one-on-one attention he deserves. I am so thankful for that. And I am thankful that I have my job. It is the best job you can have if you do have to work (in my opinion anyway). In fact, it was my dream job. My dream position. My dream location. My dream. I always knew that's what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I also always knew that I wanted to be a mama. For some reason I never thought I would want to be a SAHM, even though I love kids more than anything. I used to think I'd get bored and fat because I would just eat all the time! But now that I am a mom, I would do anything to be a SAHM - at least until my kids were school age anyway. So, "Parent Trap" would be nice for a day - to put things into perspective. Maybe that way we'd all find a way to cherish the positions we are in.

One of those days.

This has been a very, very long day. But up until about 5 pm I was under the impression that it was just a very, um, shall we say interactive day. I've been reading about how to maximize my babies' brain growth to ensure they will be geniuses; and it more or less requires that they get a lot of attention. Lots of play, singing, reading, etc. So today I vowed anew to engage with my children as much as possible. After all, I am staying home with them for just this reason; I have dedicated these five, or so, years to raising them with all that I have to offer. Turns out this is very exhausting for the mom and very energizing for the children.

Egads! How could this be? Why are we all not pleasantly worn out and ready for bed at a reasonable, if not early time? I have spent 90% of my day building with legos, playing with toy cars, reading, singing, dancing, crawling around on the floor, being crawled over and climbed on. I am so tired I could collapse or cry; it is very possible that I will do both in the very near future. But Sassy and Handsome are wired like they've been mainlining espresso all day long. Sassy should have been in bed 59 minutes ago, but she keeps running out here like she's got wheels in her feet or something. She's super cheery and has a big smirk on her face, like this is the best game of all. Bedtime, yeah right! At one point I decided to give her a choice, bed or time out and she simply said "okay!" and ran to her time out stool. A few times since then she has run out of her room and straight to her time out stool. I would be fine just letting her sit there until she fell asleep, but Husband is a bit more by the book than I am and will continue to carry her back to bed until he has to leave for work tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, Handsome is uninterested in dinner and is instead happily playing with his cars on the floor. Most nights they both would be sound asleep by now!

Maybe this is really about Cinco de Mayo. Maybe they just want to party like everybody else. Whatever it is, I give up now. Husband can take it from here. I'm having a glass of wine, it is Cinco de Mayo after all.

Cheers,
Mama T

One Year Old.

My daughter is nearing her second birthday but it feels like we have known each other for so much longer than that.

I often think to myself, "WHY can't she put all her toys away? WHY is she sticking her finger in that sludge over there? WHY is she eating that dog food, knowing full well that it's awful because she just tried to eat it 10 minutes ago? WHY won't she listen to me when I say that I very much prefer for her to sit in a chair rather than on her breakfast plate? WHY?? She's fully capable of acting like a normal human being! Why is she acting like such a little kid.....oh."

Then I remember.

"She's ONE YEAR OLD!"

She does some talking and understands more words than she can say. She's extremely dexterous and clever. She's smart. Why do I always expect her to act as an older child? Perhaps she's just smart enough to know when to ignore me when fun is to be had or kibble is to be eaten. Perhaps it is because she's milestones beyond her fleshy-lump-of-an-infant brother. Perhaps because we overcome the same messy obstacles every day and she should have learned how to behave by now. Perhaps I should have learned to just deal with it by now. Relish in the silliness and have some patience Mama J.

One year old.

My brain is broken and other minor catasrophes.

It seems to go with the motherhood territory to be chronically sleep deprived, as Mama K has already alluded to, but when does it really become dangerous? I don't even remember the last time I had a full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep; its quite possibly been since 2006! That can't be healthy. I got pregnant with Sassy in '06 and spent the last few months of that year violently ill (first trimester joys). Since then I've been uncomfortably pregnant or mothering a newborn, sometimes both! This also means that I haven't had a day off in just as long. I asked Husband this morning if he would be happy with two straight years (that's 724 days) without a single day off -- no weekend, no holidays, but plenty of late nights and early mornings! Its not that I never get a moment to myself, I do get my hair cut every few months and my brows waxed every other month (I am still a girl after all), and I try to make it to the gym for an hour at least three days a week (this one is a little easier to blow off than the brow wax, I must admit). But its been about a year since I've had more than two hours completely obligation free. Husband tries to give me a break when he's home, but it always ends up being a one-one ratio with both kids amping up their need for attention as they can sense that there is more available. Even when he promises to take care of both children so I can take a bath, or read or take a nap or something it just never really works out. He can't help relying on me, and the kids can't help seeking me out if I am in the house. I guess this is what it feels like to be adored.

Back to my original point, if I can even remember what that was...at what point does the exhaustion become serious to our health and well being? I feel like we're kind of just conditioned to take it and to believe that its what we deserve for being mothers. That came out wrong. Or did it? I meant that its such a big part of parenthood that we all just accept it as normal, but at what point does it stop being normal and start being a problem? I feel like I haven't been able to think straight for months, and I'm starting to wonder if pregnancy brain can be a permanent condition. Sometimes I really feel like part of my brain shut down at some point in the past two years. If I try to concentrate really hard, I swear I can feel the broken parts. (Its just behind my forehead, if you were curious.)

We had company over the weekend and we were going going going, non-stop. I had started to feel like I was coming down with something the day before company arrived, but there's no rest for the weary so I just ignored it. The night before our company left I was baking cookies and suddenly got very dizzy with intense tunnel vision. It freaked me out, but I tried to just brush it off. It kept getting worse though, and eventually I conceded that I should probably sit down and drink some water. Our guests returned to their hotel and I hopped in the shower before going to bed. That's when I really got freaked out...as I was washing my hair my hand went completely numb! It reminded me of how my legs felt after getting an epidural, so I know it was for sure numb. I finished showering and whimpered off to bed and Husband went out to get some cold meds for me. I slept well (comparatively, any way) that night and went to bed early the next two nights. Now I feel much better, so I have to think that my body was just exhausted past the point of normalcy. It was a wake up call to me though, if I don't make some changes and give myself some breaks I could end up in the hospital. Me and the starlets, hospitalized for exhaustion! Being adored really is hard work.

Cheers,
Mama T

Sleep Deprivation - rock bottom

I have hit rock bottom, but think I may have found the key. I am praying anyway. Today I have been utterly exhausted. I've been so grumpy at work. I have been mean, rude, cold, uninterested, and impatient. Of course all I want to do is to come home and rest and see my family of course, but when I do get home I find out that Trouble has napped for a total of 5 1/2 hours today! DUH! First off, he woke up after a little less than an hour and the nanny gave him Tylenol because he's teething pretty bad and then he fell back asleep a little later and just kept on sleeping. She was being lazy. That' s it - I know it and it pisses me off. Normally she is great, but now, after craving sleep all day long, I'm going to have a looooong night ahead of me, and why? So she can get paid to sit on her butt while my baby sleeps and so Trouble can catch up on all the sleep he misses at nighttime. I read up on how much sleep he needs at this age now and have prepared a long speech for the nanny come morning. I just have to pray I can make it through tonight and tomorrow and that this is the key I have been looking for. I am to tears. Nobody understands what it's like to get up every 2 - 4 hours every night for a year but me. Or at least that's how I feel.

Confused Convictions of Cosmic Conceptions

Every time my mother comes to visit, she's sure to point out that my children are exhibiting their zodiac signs. I've never been big on using the cosmos as a device for creating personality. If anything, climate or natural disasters should be taken into account. The husband was born the year Mt. St. Helens blew up. I find more parallel there than with Jupiter's position in the universe.

Zippy, my daughter, is a Gemini. Geminis, known for their dual nature, can bounce from this to that and back again. Just today, as we were exploring outside, she took my hand and zig-zagged across the property, pointing things out, screaming and cooing, crying and laughing, shrieking at the bees and petting roly poly bugs (which, by the way, are also called "bees"). I just took her behavior and attributed it to being a toddler. When I thought about it, though, the other toddlers that we know are no where as severe and quick at changing personalities like Zippy.

Her whole existence has been a little tense. She's my first child. I was nervous all throughout the pregnancy. There were several months of vomiting. I hated the kicking and the sloshing around that was going on in my womb. I was cranky a lot of the time (really don't understand how women have "happy" pregnancies). The contractions during her birth were the most horribly stupid, intense, torturous pain anyone could ever feel. She was born in the middle of a sickly, hot summer. She was incredibly colicky. Zippy was harder to understand than Finnegan's Wake, more stubborn than a frostbit fireplug and more restless than Richard Gere in a gerbil farm. She has only slept through the night a handful of times. She is an Air sign, and her wind is always changing directions.

Doesn't it make more sense that a pregnancy, birth, and even weather would contribute more to the molding of her mind as opposed to where huge orbs in the sky happen to be spinning? Is it coincidence that she acts like astrologers said she would act? Astrologers, who often have the power of a totem pole and the heart of a rat, who will tell you who you are and what you should do for a ridiculous amount of money and show documents with strange symbols on it to prove it?

Chief, my younger son, is the complete opposite. Chief is a Libra. Libra is the only sign that does not represent a human or an animal (reason number 45 that I'm convinced he's from another planet). It is the sign of easy-going balance and if I were to apply that idea here it would be that Chief's mellow mindedness balances out Zippy's extreme insanity. He is the Yang to her Yin.

The pregnancy was relatively easy (with the exception of the kicking, which I still didn't appreciate very much). He was born on a cool autumn night. The birth was fantastic because I had been so drugged up that when it came time to push, I couldn't feel a thing and was basically faking it, laughing and watching t.v.. He didn't cry right after I expelled him out of me, as if to project the notion that we all just need to relax a little bit. He slept a lot, didn't cry very often. He yaks and laughs like living was the best thing that could ever happen to his fetus face. From what I've researched, he's a complete Libra.

Tonight, I learned that I am the epitome of Virgo and my husband couldn't be any less of a Capricorn. Maybe there really is something to this zodiac business. Maybe it's okay to even plan pregnancies around the night sky, especially now that we can practically genetically engineer our children. Why not take it t the cosmic level? Maybe when I complain to the husband that the silverware isn't properly stacked in the drawer or when I am overcritical about his friends, I can just blame Jupiter's position in the universe and be done with it.

Through the eyes of a child

There is absolutely nothing better than watching your child discover something new or go somewhere that they haven't been in awhile so the experience is like the first time all over again. Watching Twinkle play on the beach today was pure joy. She looked at the huge body of water like it was a giant glass of milk that she was going to gulp down in one swallow. It seemed as if she took every grain of sand and studied them on her tiny fingers. The wonderful thing about being a parent is that a first for our child is a first for us. No matter how many times I have been to the beach in my life, I have never had a day like today where I got to see the beach through Twinkle's eyes. Even though we have taken her many times before, each time is better than the last. Today was beautiful.

The joys

The struggles of parenting are overwhelming, but then there are days when nothing can compare to the love of a child. Words honestly can't describe the love I feel for my guy. It can't compare to anything. I would never say that I love my baby more than my husband, nor would I say that I love my husband more than my baby. But I will say that I feel like I can describe my love for my husband much easier than I can describe my love for my baby. Is that weird or is that true for all mamas? Today was such a lovely day. :)

Should I blow up my TV?

Everyone says that you should not let your child watch television. Everyone says this! Every important group, all the books and magazines and websites. All the other moms. As far as I can tell my kids are the only ones that even know what a TV is. Strange, then, that there are so many children's programs on TV, even entire networks devoted to toddlers. I know that I let Sassy watch too much TV, that it would be much better for me to be taking her to the park or playing tea party or building a model of the solar system with her. The big snag in this vision of responsible parenting bliss is that I also have a baby to take care of and he doesn't really get the concept of waiting for his needs to be met. I completely believe that this is a temporary sanity saver, and that once Handsome is old enough to participate in (or at least not sabotage) educational activities that I will actually start planning some. But am I rotting Sassy's brain in the mean time? She seems to be developing normally. She is smart and social. She rarely asks to watch a show or video and she's been known to turn it off on her own. On the weekends, when Husband is around and there is a one to one ratio, its actually a rarity for the television to be on at all. We don't have TVs in the bedrooms and we read quite a lot. Still I feel like the world is telling me that I'm a bad parent for using the TV as a helpmate during the week when I'm alone with a toddler and a baby. Ultimately, I figure its really a matter of letting her watch TV or losing my mind. I think a sane mother is more important for her long term development than TV is detrimental to it.

- Mama T

Sleep

I am praying for six continuous hours of uninterrupted sleep tonight. For almost a year now, the most amount of sleep I have received in a row has been 5 hours - and that has been a rarity. My body yearns for rest and relaxation, but my muscles are so tense and my ears are on constant alert for even the tiniest peep. Mama guilt won't let me let my guy cry back to sleep and when Hubby tries to help him back to sleep it just doesn't work anymore. When will I sleep again? Will my guy ever learn to sleep or do I just have to learn to let the guilt go? Sometimes I secretly wish the power will go out in the middle of night, thereby turning off the monitor and silencing Trouble's voice. So wrong huh.

-Mama K

Is it wrong?

Is it wrong, do you think, that I've been pretending to be asleep for the past half hour or so while I've really been lazily and pointlessly surfing the "interweb." Husband is very kindly occupying the little ones so that I can get some extra rest since I've been sick of late. But its hard to sleep through Handsome's experimental vocal stylings. And, anyway, I've really been up since Sassy woke up and need immediate medical attention (an ouchie on her finger that absolutely needed Mama's kiss). So, I raise the question: is it wrong that I'm only pretending to be asleep so that I can delay the start of another lovely work day?

-Mama T

It's practically a party!

I am so excited because I have gotten three other awesome, amazing, real moms to agree to post on this blog as well. All of our condensed bios will be posted so you can remember who is who as you follow along with our daily dramas. And by daily, I really don't mean that we will all be posting daily; that would be great, but...well, we all have kids! Kind of a catch-22, but there it is.

Its amazing to me how, in the course of a single day, I can experience every possible emotion. I suppose it could be that I am unstable, but I tend to think its just par for the course. Someone once said that you could truly only hate someone you had loved. Not that I ever hate my kids (dear God, that is miles from where I am going here so stick with me) but it stands to reason that the stronger your feelings for someone the bigger reaction they are able to provoke from you. Which would explain why I can experience intense love, joy, frustration, sadness, humor, worry, delight and about 20 other emotions in the span of an hour. I can't count the number of times I have been ready to scream only to have the little perpetrator do something adorable and reduce me to a puddle of love.

Today I have been sick. And ordinarily I would be ranting about how unfair it is that moms don't get any sick days (I'm sure there will be a future post dedicated to that) but Sassy was so unbelievably enchanting all day that everything else just seemed to fade into the background. And then towards the end of the day when everyone was getting crankier, I was really starting to lose my cool. But when I realized that Sassy had started running a fever, everything else went away. My fatigue and pains became unimportant in the face of my daughter's possible illness. I'm sure she is just teething (why does that take so very long???) but since toddlers don't tend to be very articulate its hard to be sure how she feels.

Now that she is snuggled up in her bed and Handsome is in the care of Husband, I am starting to feel icky again. Another mom truth: the full extent of our wounds can not be felt and acknowledged until everyone else is taken care of.

Keep visiting and get to know my fellow Mamas!

Cheers,
Mama T

The truth and nothing but the truth.

In the interest of full disclosure, the real reason behind this blog is simply to give voice to my own truth. The daily, boring, frustrating, amazing, exhilarating truth of my life as a mama. I know that it is a wonderful gift of fate that I am able to stay at home with my babies, and I would not take any other course knowing what I know now. That said, this is about a gazillion times more difficult than I could have ever imagined! As much as I love my life and my family, I miss the old times: the old me, my old freedom, my old job, my old frivolities.

Did you happen to notice that qualifier in there? I made sure to tell you first that I love my family and my life. And of course I do, but I also find it interesting that I dare not tell you that I miss the Time Before Babies (T.B.B.) without making sure that you know I love them. Of course I love them! They sprang from loins! They grew inside of me, we were one unit for almost a year. And I wanted them, so very much. These were no accidents, these were well planned little lives. And I have no regrets, I very firmly stand by my choices...its just that sometimes I want to scream and run away. And I have a strong sense that some of you do too. Its the truth of doing a job so hard. So hard that we feel incredibly under qualified half the time; or at least I do. Maybe I'm overstepping here, maybe you don't feel that way, but I certainly do.

Logically, I know I am probably more prepared than most to be a mother. I have a background in elementary education and child psychology. I grew up around a lot of kids and have always felt comfortable with them and been liked by them. I read just about everything there is out there about parenting, development, etc. And still I feel inadequate roughly 42% of the time.

So I embark on the journey of this blog, hopefully to be updated daily, in attempt to get in better touch with myself and maybe even other moms who feel the same. Mostly I believe that if I write it down and put it out there then I will be able to own it, see it for what it really is and move on a happier and healthier version of myself.

So a toast to my journey and to you, my travel companions.

Cheers!