That is how long I have been married. For those of you who don't have calculators for brains that is 1 day shy of eleven years. This fun fact has had me thinking a lot lately about me 11 years ago.
The year was 1999.
January treating me well.
I was enjoying my first cell phone.
(I didn't even mind that it was 10 pounds and had an antenna I had to pull out.)
I drove a sweet dodge neon.
(Don't be jealous)
My hair was growing out well from an unfortunate buzz cut.
(It was a near shaving, really)
I was enjoying my job at Allstate insurance.
(I received great life lessons from my meth addicted co-worker)
I had moved back into my parent’s house.
(Because free is good, and constantly drunk roommates are annoying.)
I had so much change in store for me.
And I didn’t have a clue that any of it was coming my way.
By February I was engaged. (WHAT?!)
By May I was married. (Even bigger WHAAT?!)
By August I was pregnant and puking. (The biggest WHAAAAT?! of all)
My adult life really began in 1999, and it happened so fast. So fast that sometimes I wonder if I ever really grew up. Am I really an adult? Don’t adults act more mature than me? There is no way they can like coloring with crayons as much as I do, right? I fully expect someone someday to call me out as an imposter. I wonder if someone is going to see through me and tell me I'm not grown up enough to be a mom and a wife.
All my worries aside, I stand amazed. I feel like it is almost inconceivable that little old immature me in 1999 could make the best, best, best decision of her life. I mean, I tried to shave my head. That is Brittany Spears kind of stupid, and we all know that is the worst kind.
The moral of the story for me? I am so not the one orchestrating my life. I can’t be. That should be obvious to everyone by now.
The moral of the story for you? Stupid people can make good life decisions too. That should help a few of you sleep better knowing that.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
the difference a year makes...
This was my day last year on May 14, 2009:
6:50 a.m. Finally succumb to the nerves that have been forbidding me to sleep and get out of bed.
7:37 a.m. Arrive at the hospital to push a small male child out of my body.
7:45 a.m. Follow a nurse down the hall to the room where the magic/horror happens. realize that i have walked this same hall, feeling this same feeling 4 times now, and knowing today, that this is the last time I will walk down this hallway feeling this way.
8:00 a.m. Receive the rundown from my nurse. Throw a look at Brian after she leaves. Laugh that Brian knows that this look means, "I am so glad we got a good nurse this time and that she isn't like the obnoxious nurse with the obnoxious accent we had 9 years previous with Jonas.
8:30 a.m. Get all hooked up on pitocin and have the pleasure of having my water broken. Realize how much I DON'T love that feeling.
9:00 a.m. Watch the nurse anxiously/gratefully as she ups the dose of pitocin. Realize that I really am in fact pushing a human out today whether I want to or not.
9:30 a.m. Get visited by bri. talk to her about the last two times she has visited me in this same position, while the husband updates family on facebook.
10:00 a.m. Feel the pain for real now. Smile and wince as the nurse ups the pitocin dose.
10:30 a.m. Ouch.
10:45 a.m. I mean seriously, OUCH.
11:00 a.m. No, I am not kidding ... O.U.C.H.
11:09 a.m. Can we stop now? I was just kidding, I really don't want to do this. I would really just like to go home now.
[the next 2 hours were undocumented and subsequently lost in the sea of pain that is labor]
1:11 p.m. Welcome Mr. Anesthesiologist in the room.
1:27 p.m. Smile and smile some more.
1:30 p.m. Remember that epidurals make me nauseous right before I puke.
2:15 p.m. Itchy. Really really itchy. But really really comfortable and happy.
2:40 p.m. Time to push!
3:15 p.m. Is it hot in here or is it just me? I mean, I am aware that I am doing some hard work here, but seriously, can I get a fan?
3:32 p.m. Have a sinking suspicion that this child is large.
3:35 p.m. Push this perfect, and yes very large creature out into the world:
And now we all get to enjoy him.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
So that was a pretty good day.
6:50 a.m. Finally succumb to the nerves that have been forbidding me to sleep and get out of bed.
7:37 a.m. Arrive at the hospital to push a small male child out of my body.
7:45 a.m. Follow a nurse down the hall to the room where the magic/horror happens. realize that i have walked this same hall, feeling this same feeling 4 times now, and knowing today, that this is the last time I will walk down this hallway feeling this way.
8:00 a.m. Receive the rundown from my nurse. Throw a look at Brian after she leaves. Laugh that Brian knows that this look means, "I am so glad we got a good nurse this time and that she isn't like the obnoxious nurse with the obnoxious accent we had 9 years previous with Jonas.
8:30 a.m. Get all hooked up on pitocin and have the pleasure of having my water broken. Realize how much I DON'T love that feeling.
9:00 a.m. Watch the nurse anxiously/gratefully as she ups the dose of pitocin. Realize that I really am in fact pushing a human out today whether I want to or not.
9:30 a.m. Get visited by bri. talk to her about the last two times she has visited me in this same position, while the husband updates family on facebook.
10:00 a.m. Feel the pain for real now. Smile and wince as the nurse ups the pitocin dose.
10:30 a.m. Ouch.
10:45 a.m. I mean seriously, OUCH.
11:00 a.m. No, I am not kidding ... O.U.C.H.
11:09 a.m. Can we stop now? I was just kidding, I really don't want to do this. I would really just like to go home now.
[the next 2 hours were undocumented and subsequently lost in the sea of pain that is labor]
1:11 p.m. Welcome Mr. Anesthesiologist in the room.
1:27 p.m. Smile and smile some more.
1:30 p.m. Remember that epidurals make me nauseous right before I puke.
2:15 p.m. Itchy. Really really itchy. But really really comfortable and happy.
2:40 p.m. Time to push!
3:15 p.m. Is it hot in here or is it just me? I mean, I am aware that I am doing some hard work here, but seriously, can I get a fan?
3:32 p.m. Have a sinking suspicion that this child is large.
3:35 p.m. Push this perfect, and yes very large creature out into the world:
And now we all get to enjoy him.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
So that was a pretty good day.
Monday, May 10, 2010
The weekend... in words, not pictures
I think I thought 6,000 times this weekend how great it would be to get a picture of....[fill in the blank]. I cursed my broken camera several times. I mean, if I had a voodoo doll in the shape of that camera... But I am not going to let it phase me. I am just going to continue on with this blog, just using words. (and apologizing for any boredom you may endure).
We had a good weekend. It was a sunny weekend, how could it not be good?
Friday night we grilled cheddarwurst (healthy, I know). We gabbed at the kitchen table, and fed Porter more food than I knew was possible to fit inside a baby's belly. The kids and I changed him (because that takes a small army to do) and put him to bed. Then we threw on pajamas and set up blankets and settled in to watch the Blind side, which we had yet to see. The kids all fell asleep during or immediately after the movie and we let them sleep right where they were. We are lazy like that.
Saturday we spent in the yard (yay for yards!) We cut down a gigantic tree that was a gigantic pain. All right, so maybe I didn't cut down anything personally, but just because I didn't do the actual manual labor, don't assume that it wasn't hard work watching my husband up on a huge ladder with a chain saw... It was stress. Then we all cleaned up fallen branches and twigs for what seemed like an eternity. we paused for lunch and for swinging time on the remaining tree. After that mess was all handled we moved onto the garden (yay for gardens!). We got the ground all set to go to grow food... out of the ground! It's like glorious magic! We let the kids all choose stuff to grow so we will soon be planting, tomatos, carrots, watermelon, raspberries and peppers.
Let me pause here and tell you that I feel really cool for saying I have a garden. Really cool. And if things actually grow in it, then my head just may explode with pride. Let me also take advantage of this moment of pause to tell you that I did nothing to get the garden ready either. They were covering the ground with manure and I am sorry, but I deal with enough poop in my everyday life to be bothered with animal crap on the weekends.
After that we cleaned up, and there was a lot of cleaning to do (I mentioned the manure right?) and I packed the kid's lunch boxes for dinner and we dropped the kids off at Grammie and Pops house so I could enjoy a kid free night with Brian in celebration of mother's day.
We ate at Goodwood and shopped at khols. For me! It was Brian's suggestion. He noticed that I looked like a homeless beggar in my current clothes and thought maybe it was time to spruce up the old wardrobe. I had a coupon to kohls so I was pretty proud of myself for that. But then the checkout dude out of nowhere slapped on a friends and family discount! I was pretty thrilled.
Then we went to Sees candy.
If you have never gone to Sees, don't. STAY AWAY. That way there is more for me.
We got back just in time to shoot Hailey full of insulin. She loves it. (not really).
Sunday I was served Breakfast in bed. Pancakes and strawberries. yum. As I began eating my breakfast, I started to realize that breakfast in bed is a weird tradition. I mean, I just sat there, by myself eating, while everyone else was laughing and having fun in the kitchen. I felt like a leper. I decided to join them and not have breakfast in bed ever again, unless of course I happen to contract lepercy, then I would gladly sequester myself.
The rest of the day was chill and I was showered with lots of hugs and love and homemade cards and gifts and coupons. The kids did their best not to whine and fight. It was a definite improvement. Caleb only said he wanted a new mom once the whole day and Hailey only said she hated having diabetes at dinner, as compared to every single meal or snack. And Jonas? Well, he let me put my arm around him... IN PUBLIC. For like, a long time!
It was a good celebratory day.
It was a good weekend.
I wished it would have been 7 days longer though.
I also wish it wasn't cold today.
I also wish that I was incredibly rich, FYI.
How was your weekend?
We had a good weekend. It was a sunny weekend, how could it not be good?
Friday night we grilled cheddarwurst (healthy, I know). We gabbed at the kitchen table, and fed Porter more food than I knew was possible to fit inside a baby's belly. The kids and I changed him (because that takes a small army to do) and put him to bed. Then we threw on pajamas and set up blankets and settled in to watch the Blind side, which we had yet to see. The kids all fell asleep during or immediately after the movie and we let them sleep right where they were. We are lazy like that.
Saturday we spent in the yard (yay for yards!) We cut down a gigantic tree that was a gigantic pain. All right, so maybe I didn't cut down anything personally, but just because I didn't do the actual manual labor, don't assume that it wasn't hard work watching my husband up on a huge ladder with a chain saw... It was stress. Then we all cleaned up fallen branches and twigs for what seemed like an eternity. we paused for lunch and for swinging time on the remaining tree. After that mess was all handled we moved onto the garden (yay for gardens!). We got the ground all set to go to grow food... out of the ground! It's like glorious magic! We let the kids all choose stuff to grow so we will soon be planting, tomatos, carrots, watermelon, raspberries and peppers.
Let me pause here and tell you that I feel really cool for saying I have a garden. Really cool. And if things actually grow in it, then my head just may explode with pride. Let me also take advantage of this moment of pause to tell you that I did nothing to get the garden ready either. They were covering the ground with manure and I am sorry, but I deal with enough poop in my everyday life to be bothered with animal crap on the weekends.
After that we cleaned up, and there was a lot of cleaning to do (I mentioned the manure right?) and I packed the kid's lunch boxes for dinner and we dropped the kids off at Grammie and Pops house so I could enjoy a kid free night with Brian in celebration of mother's day.
We ate at Goodwood and shopped at khols. For me! It was Brian's suggestion. He noticed that I looked like a homeless beggar in my current clothes and thought maybe it was time to spruce up the old wardrobe. I had a coupon to kohls so I was pretty proud of myself for that. But then the checkout dude out of nowhere slapped on a friends and family discount! I was pretty thrilled.
Then we went to Sees candy.
If you have never gone to Sees, don't. STAY AWAY. That way there is more for me.
We got back just in time to shoot Hailey full of insulin. She loves it. (not really).
Sunday I was served Breakfast in bed. Pancakes and strawberries. yum. As I began eating my breakfast, I started to realize that breakfast in bed is a weird tradition. I mean, I just sat there, by myself eating, while everyone else was laughing and having fun in the kitchen. I felt like a leper. I decided to join them and not have breakfast in bed ever again, unless of course I happen to contract lepercy, then I would gladly sequester myself.
The rest of the day was chill and I was showered with lots of hugs and love and homemade cards and gifts and coupons. The kids did their best not to whine and fight. It was a definite improvement. Caleb only said he wanted a new mom once the whole day and Hailey only said she hated having diabetes at dinner, as compared to every single meal or snack. And Jonas? Well, he let me put my arm around him... IN PUBLIC. For like, a long time!
It was a good celebratory day.
It was a good weekend.
I wished it would have been 7 days longer though.
I also wish it wasn't cold today.
I also wish that I was incredibly rich, FYI.
How was your weekend?
Friday, May 7, 2010
Celebrating motherhood day 3: being a mom is cool!
Before I was a mom, I was worried. Could I really be a mom? Could I really be in charge of someone elses life? Could I really love my children unconditionally? I mean, would I even like my kids? Like, all the time? What if my kids were ugly? Would I even see it?
Turns out they were so cute I didn't have to worry about that.
Turns out my kids were pretty cool too.
Turns out I really love being a mom.
Motherhood has made me into the fine specimen that I am today.
Ya so um, maybe that isn't exactly a glowing advertisement for motherhood. Really though, when I say I love being a mom, please don't interpret that into thinking I am wonderful at being a mom, and that motherhood is always lovely and picture perfect. It's not.
There are times when it is hard, overwhelming, underwhelming, monotonous, messy, chaotic, frustrating, sticky, smelly and wet. But it's the hard parts that make the sweet parts so good. And it's the sticky parts that make you so grateful for baby wipes. And the smelly parts that make you grateful for the invention of the diaper champ... and febreeze.
I love being a mom because
Motherhood has allowed me to see my strengths
and my weaknesses... (not too hard, seeing as there are so many.)
It has afforded me the opportunity to grow
and to learn to live on less sleep.
It has been very painful.
(Dude, childbirth REALLY hurts.)
It has made me understand the feeling of total inadequacy, but made me simultaneously grateful for the chance to improve at the same time.
It has made me see more clearly the love wisdom that my parents posses.
It has made love my husband more than I thought was possible. It has allowed me to see him at his best on a daily basis.
It has made me laugh harder,
smile bigger,
walk taller,
and understand more.
I am grateful to my kids for giving me a chance and sticking with me, and not abandoning me for some better mother down the street, because motherhood has been the best thing I have ever done, and I know it always will be.
Unless I was ever like President of the United States because that's really cool and important too.
Turns out they were so cute I didn't have to worry about that.
Turns out my kids were pretty cool too.
Turns out I really love being a mom.
Motherhood has made me into the fine specimen that I am today.
Ya so um, maybe that isn't exactly a glowing advertisement for motherhood. Really though, when I say I love being a mom, please don't interpret that into thinking I am wonderful at being a mom, and that motherhood is always lovely and picture perfect. It's not.
There are times when it is hard, overwhelming, underwhelming, monotonous, messy, chaotic, frustrating, sticky, smelly and wet. But it's the hard parts that make the sweet parts so good. And it's the sticky parts that make you so grateful for baby wipes. And the smelly parts that make you grateful for the invention of the diaper champ... and febreeze.
I love being a mom because
Motherhood has allowed me to see my strengths
and my weaknesses... (not too hard, seeing as there are so many.)
It has afforded me the opportunity to grow
and to learn to live on less sleep.
It has been very painful.
(Dude, childbirth REALLY hurts.)
It has made me understand the feeling of total inadequacy, but made me simultaneously grateful for the chance to improve at the same time.
It has made me see more clearly the love wisdom that my parents posses.
It has made love my husband more than I thought was possible. It has allowed me to see him at his best on a daily basis.
It has made me laugh harder,
smile bigger,
walk taller,
and understand more.
I am grateful to my kids for giving me a chance and sticking with me, and not abandoning me for some better mother down the street, because motherhood has been the best thing I have ever done, and I know it always will be.
Unless I was ever like President of the United States because that's really cool and important too.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
celebrating motherhood, day 2: Supporting your childs dreams
Yesterday Caleb and Porter and I were in the car driving from place to place. All was quiet until Caleb spotted the love of his life: Danger.
Caleb is in love with it.
Luckily for him, it happens to be around every corner as a 4 year old.
There's the skateboard.
Doing crazy tricks on the scooter.
Climbing trees.
Jumping off things that are too tall to be jumping off of.
But yesterday, in the car, he saw his future. It was a motorcycle.
He was in heavenly awe.
He admired the man on the motorcycle adorned in leather, his cigarette almost hidden by the ginormous mustache overtaking his face.
Caleb said: "Mom, when I grow up I want to ride a motorcycle ALL DAY."
I said, as any mother should: "But Caleb, you have to be so careful; and motorcycles are dangerous."
To which my FOUR YEAR OLD replied, and this is no joke:
"Mom, that's the point."
It was then that it really dawned on me that I am utterly failing in my role of leading Caleb to become a productive member of society. Instead, his desire is to be a chain smoking, hairy, leather covered, dare devil.
And in answer to your question, I have NO IDEA where he gets it. My belief is that some things just come with them.
And trust me, this came with him.
Caleb is in love with it.
Luckily for him, it happens to be around every corner as a 4 year old.
There's the skateboard.
Doing crazy tricks on the scooter.
Climbing trees.
Jumping off things that are too tall to be jumping off of.
But yesterday, in the car, he saw his future. It was a motorcycle.
He was in heavenly awe.
He admired the man on the motorcycle adorned in leather, his cigarette almost hidden by the ginormous mustache overtaking his face.
Caleb said: "Mom, when I grow up I want to ride a motorcycle ALL DAY."
I said, as any mother should: "But Caleb, you have to be so careful; and motorcycles are dangerous."
To which my FOUR YEAR OLD replied, and this is no joke:
"Mom, that's the point."
It was then that it really dawned on me that I am utterly failing in my role of leading Caleb to become a productive member of society. Instead, his desire is to be a chain smoking, hairy, leather covered, dare devil.
And in answer to your question, I have NO IDEA where he gets it. My belief is that some things just come with them.
And trust me, this came with him.
Monday, May 3, 2010
celebrating motherhood week, day 1: teaching your child effectively
[this week in honor of mother's day, I am writing about motherhood. This is really no different from any other week here on this blog that in 99% about motherhood already, but just play along, OK?]
Caleb has a problem. He happens to, as he always has, think he is the boss. He thinks he is the oldest kid; in fact, he has convinced himself that he is an adult and was born that way. He tells me he is big and won't grow up, but instead grow down. He is our own little Benjamin Button. While it provides us with lots to laugh about (we stifle the laughter until after he is gone), We have been trying very hard to make him understand that he is not in charge.
It has not really worked.
For example this morning:
[Caleb]MOM!!! Make my cereal now!! MOM! I Want my waffle RIGHT NOW!
[me, after reminding him to ask nicely] Just a minute Caleb, I need to finish making the lunches.
[Caleb] Sorry mom, but you have to listen to me and do it now. I'm in charge.
[Caleb] Mom! Don't let Porter touch the basketball! [speaking sweetly to porter] I'm in charge, OK?
[Caleb, speaking sternly to Jonas and Hailey] Kids, look at my face... it's time for you to go to school. Quick... NOW!
[Caleb, in response to my request for him to get dressed] No mom, I am not getting my dressed on yet. I am in charge."
It was at this point this morning that I decided to take the opportunity to have the "who is really in charge" talk/lecture for the 8,000th time, hoping that this will be the time that it finally sinks in.
Later, we are downstairs and Porter begins crawling towards the playroom. Caleb screams in horror,
"NO PORTER! YOU CANNOT GO IN THERE!"
I tell Caleb,
"Caleb, It's OK, I am watching him and I say it's OK."
Caleb goes silent.
He is thinking.
His shoulders begin to slump.
He sighs,
"OK, mom. I will let you be in charge."
He accepts defeat.
I am inwardly freaking out in triumph! He got it! It worked! only 8,000 tries! The point finally hit home!
As I am patting myself on the back for a successful motherhood moment, Caleb adds sternly,
"But just this one time, OK?"
8,001 here we come.
Caleb has a problem. He happens to, as he always has, think he is the boss. He thinks he is the oldest kid; in fact, he has convinced himself that he is an adult and was born that way. He tells me he is big and won't grow up, but instead grow down. He is our own little Benjamin Button. While it provides us with lots to laugh about (we stifle the laughter until after he is gone), We have been trying very hard to make him understand that he is not in charge.
It has not really worked.
For example this morning:
[Caleb]MOM!!! Make my cereal now!! MOM! I Want my waffle RIGHT NOW!
[me, after reminding him to ask nicely] Just a minute Caleb, I need to finish making the lunches.
[Caleb] Sorry mom, but you have to listen to me and do it now. I'm in charge.
[Caleb] Mom! Don't let Porter touch the basketball! [speaking sweetly to porter] I'm in charge, OK?
[Caleb, speaking sternly to Jonas and Hailey] Kids, look at my face... it's time for you to go to school. Quick... NOW!
[Caleb, in response to my request for him to get dressed] No mom, I am not getting my dressed on yet. I am in charge."
It was at this point this morning that I decided to take the opportunity to have the "who is really in charge" talk/lecture for the 8,000th time, hoping that this will be the time that it finally sinks in.
Later, we are downstairs and Porter begins crawling towards the playroom. Caleb screams in horror,
"NO PORTER! YOU CANNOT GO IN THERE!"
I tell Caleb,
"Caleb, It's OK, I am watching him and I say it's OK."
Caleb goes silent.
He is thinking.
His shoulders begin to slump.
He sighs,
"OK, mom. I will let you be in charge."
He accepts defeat.
I am inwardly freaking out in triumph! He got it! It worked! only 8,000 tries! The point finally hit home!
As I am patting myself on the back for a successful motherhood moment, Caleb adds sternly,
"But just this one time, OK?"
8,001 here we come.
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