Surviving Vs. Enrichment: What's the Difference? Will I Even Remember This???

Yesterday was my quarterly magazine reading event where I get about 4-6 minutes to actually read a magazine. Sadly, it was Parents magazine.

Why am I reading about it, and talking about it when I'm finally away from it? Who knows???

Anyway, this article addressed the advantages and disadvantages of various age differences between siblings. Mine are 20 months apart and something in this article's title implied that this was simply no good. Intrigued, and knowing that I had earned my magazine reading time (and next time it will be Real Simple or a clothing catalog, I swear!), I read it.

There was lots of this and that that could be argued either way. I didn't particularly like the part about siblings that are 2 years apart or less do worse in school. I was about to poo poo the whole thing when I read the bold print that ran along side the article in the attempt to get the reader to read on...it worked. I don't even have to go find it. I know exactly what it said.

"Households that have children less than two years apart are more focused on survival rather than enrichment."

I used up the remainder 10 seconds of my magazine reading time, pondering this (knowing full well that I was simultaneously eating up my twice yearly pondering time), when I noticed a single hair attached to my leg (believe me, I checked) that was about an inch and a half long.

Was "survival" the right word???

I was perplexed. It felt so good to be validated by Random Writer at Parent's Magazine who is probably just a contract worker in grad school who has a hot date tonight and the most she knows about kids is everything according to her because she has nieces and nephews (I hate this overused comment. "No. I don't have kids, but I have nieces and nephews." Ridiculous, I can't believe I said that!). I was validated nonetheless. But kinda pissed, too.

It's kind of like when a particular family member that I have in mind (it's not you, Mom), says, "Have you heard Owen say all of the letters and the sounds they make???" Um, yes. Who do you think sits and works on that with him all day? The alphabet fairy? I'm at home six days a week, remember? Again, I'm validated, but kinda pissed.

Violet is about to be 1. ONE. When Owen turned 1, he was about 100 years old. Violet is only 1. She seems to be too much of a baby to be 1. Too young to be 1.

Although I don't have the passing of time going too quickly phenomena (I think I covered this in a previous entry), I do have my past to compare my present with and I'm a little nervous that I won't remember a damn thing.

Is it because I'm simply "surviving?"

When I was in grad school, I was miserable. I picked the wrong program, the wrong school, the wrong everything (though I did just love my little, quaint bungalow and I did meet my best friend there...everything has a way of working out, doesn't it?). I complained to my mom every single day and she would say, "Cheri! It's only two years! Just get through it, it's such a small amount of time in the grand scheme of things."

I admit, I wasn't exactly sober in grad school (and I won't even get into my undergraduate experience - talk about not remembering anything!), but she was right. I barely remember it. I was just...surviving.

I'm hoping that this experience is forgotten because it wasn't any fun. I mean, how could I forget the last two years?? Or the next two years??? Could I block out both my kids babydom because it's simply not that long in the grand scheme of things???

Will I forget how Violet always sucks in her lower lip? Or how Owen always says, "Ban-bade" for Band-Aid??

I anticipate this problem because when I was pregnant, I was worried about forgetting what it was like to be pregnant. I look at Violet now and I can't remember what she was like as a baby and she is a baby.

I think this is why I record everything.

Maybe I don't write here much, but, I got a lot going on...

I have blogs for both of the kids:

www.owenflake.com

www.violetflake.com

I have a blog for my work:

www.thestresstherapist.blogspot.com

I have a video blog for work:

www.youtube.com/thestresstherapist

I have a Mommy journal that I write one sentence in every night (I highly recommend this).

I have fashioned my own baby book by writing baby memories as my Facebook updates, pulling them up on my phone and taking a screen picture, so I'll always have it.

I have a quotable kid weekly journal where I write the funny things that Owen says.

and

I have this blog.

I am also writing a book on how to fit all you want into your life.

I don't want to forget this. I don't want to just survive.

I have a friend who doesn't want kids and he asked me once, "why do you have kids?"

I've been using my pondering time for almost 3 years trying to answer this question and here is the best I can come up with...

Just for the pure joy of it.

I'd like to forget the incessant meals, cleaning the kitchen 20 times a day, the crying, the interrupted sweet dreams, the poop, and the damn carseats.

But the joy...I need to remember it.

It's what keeps me going.

It's how I survive.

Cheri

PS If you are a mommy that remembers, doesn't remember, wants to remember, or wants to forget, please comment. I really want to hear from you.

The Two Nap Trap and Other Trying Times

Today, as I was simultaneously drying my hair, applying mascara and whitening my teeth, I began to reflect on my old life.

There's no way I could have done in one day all that I have already done today; it’s only 11:37am!

Oh, Cheri...Remember Lifetime movie marathons? Or, projects involving cool design ideas? How about taking a long time to pick out lip gloss at the drugstore? What about trying out a recipe from a magazine? Remember magazines???

I don’t.

Sparkles fell asleep at about 9:40am (Owen is at "school"). Her morning nap isn’t even over (I know, I got another rock star sleeper) and I have picked up the house, emptied the dishwasher, had my own breakfast (of course, only after I’ve fed everyone else), done a load of laundry, checked my email, made a work call, completed a vigorous, though short yoga practice, took a shower (and washed my hair!), got dressed and ready (with makeup!) and, although this essay was not complete, I have managed to get down a nice working, shitty, rough draft of mommy thoughts.

I'm officially a super woman!

The truth is, I don’t have a choice. Violet’s schedule runs the show now...I declare myself officially in what I call the "Two Nap Trap."

Yesterday, I tried to ignore little Sparkles’ need for a long morning snooze in her

crib. I mustered up some false confidence that she could swing a nap on the go because, dammit we needed milk already, people! I mean, let's face it, as far as I know, “Drive Thru Land” does not exist, and how the hell do you run errands with two kids???

You don't. You run one errand that always starts off so smoothly you secretly wish your friends would bump into you. Unfortunately, it always ends with both kids screaming so loudly and behaving so poorly, you just know that someone is just dying to get home and write and submit pictures to Parents Magazine about running into one of the those mothers. The ride home is colored with 95 loud and vigorous encores of “I’m A Little Teacup” in an effort to keep your kid awake because God forbid one should fall asleep in the car for five minutes leaving all of your efforts for a full blown two hour nap therefore rendered useless. Finally home and exhausted, one always goes down so easy just to mess with you because the other one uses up an hour of your precious, and rare, “holy crap, both kids are asleep!” alone time fighting sleep tooth and nail because they’re super overtired having “missed a window.” Top it off with a little cursing and resentment toward your unwitting husband because he can get a haircut whenever he damn well pleases and, well, your whole day just feels lovely.

That's why I've really been enjoying contemplating what it would actually take to open a “mama business” where nobody has to get out of the car but every need is still met. I mean every thing...diapers, formula, Desitin, pacifiers, sippys, even clothes, definitely wine, all kinds of groceries, and how about even tires???

Everything, ladies!

I picture it like a big car wash situation...you pull in and let’s say, you know, because it’s still in the works and all ideas are currently open for discussion, that a hot guy with no shirt on vacuums out your SUV and another one collects all the the items you want while laughing at all of your jokes and even listening to a cute little story about how smart your toddler is...

Okay, okay...too much.

So, let’s just say that you drive up to a big, gigantic vending machine that you can easily work from your driver’s seat, but instead of Kit Kats, huge gallons of organic milk, Leap Frog DVDs, Diapers and Pacifiers fall right into your hands without ever having touched a car seatbelt.

Yessssss.

How do you think "Go, Mama, Go!" sounds for a name? Or “Just Paci Thru?” I’m up for suggestions...just livin’ the minivan dream.

But, I digress. Violet is much like her mother. I have never fallen asleep in a moving car (except for the few times that I took a little something to make me) and I used to travel with a band that, depending on where we were on the bill, got done with our set around 2am, packed up by 4am and had to be in the next state for a gig the next day... and I did that for 12 years.

In short, we all paid for my actions. Violet was up all night and now I know for sure, I am trapped here...for about another year.

A YEAR.

But, it all goes by so fast.

Well, not for me, mister.

When people say, "I can't believe it's already Thanksgiving!" I can. And at my 20 year reunion, when everyone asked, "can you believe it's been 20 years???" No, I couldn't. Seemed much like 40 years to me.

I fail to have this common sense of time warp in my life for some reason. My husband thinks that it's because I live in the moment, I’m not so sure...

People assure me that it will come when my kids are grown. They insist that it all goes by so fast. I swear that I am open and appreciative of that possibility but for right now, I can't believe that Owen isn't driving and applying for college yet.

So, stayed tuned and visit often as next week I will begin tackling such puzzling questions such as, "Why is brushing a toddler's teeth so unrewarding?" And, "Why do I feel so smug, like I'm a gourmet cook after making simple baby food?" As well as, "Why do I only get the Cat in the Hat after a glass of wine???"

Easing Into It...

I remember the day that I found out that I was having a boy like it was yesterday.

It was a lot like Christmas morning...filled with expectation, nostalgia, lots of love, and a little... (dare I say it??) Disappointment.

Some say that they don't want to know the sex...that they want to be "surprised." Oh, I was surprised alright! It just wasn't on the day of the birth...it was its own special day, reserved simply for the preparation of something a little unexpected.

See, I always knew that I would have a little girl.

I knew it like I knew that I would always find a way to sing...she was a part of me before she was even a twinkle in my eye. But, a boy??? What would I do with a boy???

I had some sort of strange epiphany on the way to the doc's office...I just knew. I called my best friend and really, with such naivety, said those exact words. "I know it's a boy. What will I do with a boy???"And, not knowing what (who!) I know now, I was a little sad...mourning the temporary loss of my little baby girl.

A lot of women that have boys have mentioned that they're not really "girly girls" so they wouldn't know what to do with a girl.

But see, I AM a girly girl.

My favorite color is and always has been pink. I wear makeup every single day and really enjoy putting it on. I love glitter and bling and flashy earrings and when I'm not post partum (and believe me, I STILL am), I would rather wear a dress and heels than anything else.

The ultrasound was so unlike every unreadable ultrasound I'd seen before...plain as day, a penis and little bum crack. So easy to spot that the technician actually said sarcastically, "So, what do you think that is?!"

The first thought I had was, "well, I guess I'm having two, not just one."

Then, I started having visions of my older brother at about age 12 with his grimy, skinny, dirty friends with goofy haircuts and silly clothes. I pictured my boy with a Dennis the Menace mischevious look about him and a pocket full of contraband complete with the slingshot and rocks. I was preoccupied with the idea of a pre-teen that lies, pushes little girls in lampshade dresses, and responds to taking his filthy shoes off in the foyer before entering the house with an "aw shucks, mom."

I told my mom about these horrors and she reminded me that I wouldn't birth a conniving, school skipping, gritty teen, but a baby; a beautiful baby boy.

My mom told me that's why they come to mothers as babies...so moms can "ease into it."

Ease into it??? "But, Mom, boys are so...dirty. They're so...mean."

"You'll deal with issues as they come and you'll love that little boy more than you've ever loved anyone in the whole world."

Really???

Really.

Wow. I love my little boy more than anything in the world.

And, here I find myself doing exactly that...easing into it.

Owen's runny nose doesn't even phase me. And wiping his bottom? I'm so pumped I don't have to change that nasty diaper, I practically jump at the chance...plus, there's the praise I get to shower him for making it to the potty!

Today, while he was running around in his Super Grover helmet and cape yelling, "hi-ya!" I wasn't remotely annoyed. I was touched.

So, I guess I'm easing into things...

Just like I ease into all of these other parenting queries...

Like, for instance, pondering the phrase "use your inside voice, honey." What does this mean exactly?? To me, it means think it over and don't speak out loud. But, I've recently learned that it actually means to not yell indoors like you do at the playground.

Who knew?? And, furthermore, how useful!

There is other crazy talk, too.

Like "nipple confusion" and getting on a community pool waiting list that's 5 years long and knowing that whatever your kid does, someone is bound to blame it on teething. Yes, crying, pooping, growing, sucking, chewing, drooling, diaper rash...this is all, at one time or another, apparently due to teething.

I'm also still researching what exactly a "growth spurt" is and how I can identify one in action.

But, as far as easing into having a boy...I've never felt so blessed or had so much fun.

God really knows what He's doing, doesn't He?

It doesn't matter what my little boy does...it's cute and perfect and all things wonderful.

Even thoughI know with 100% certainty that he, at this very moment, has a pocketful of plastic bugs (see pic above, or a handful of bugs), may be picking his nose, and can't keep that newly freed from diapers penis of his alone, I still find him simply charming.

The idea that I may be filled with delusional thinking about how wonderful, my dirty little future 12 year old will be also suits me just fine.

And my baby girl??? She's here now, too. Just like I knew she would be...

Things have a way of working out perfectly, don't they?

Yes, yes, they do,

Cheri

Laundry Wisdom

Violet is 5 months, two weeks and six days old. And (drumroll, please), I think I got this...I think I finally got a handle on the situation.

I can equate what's going on with me exactly the way that I look at my laundry situation...I don't have to have it all perfect, finished, sparkly, smelling wonderful, put away and sorted out at all times. I just have to have a handle on it.

My laundry is all of those things at one time or another and that's perfectly fine.

The old Cheri would laugh this new Cheri off with a "smirk and a toss." But she doesn't know that the new Cheri is far wiser. Yes, I feel wise.

Before say, a week or two ago, I was constantly forward focused. I couldn't stay in the moment for nothin'. "When will my mom come and help me?" "When will Andrew be home?" "When will they take a nap?" "When will he go back to school?"

This makes for a miserable existence of wishing away their little lives and missing out on a whole lot.

It was just so much. Two little people instead of one. I couldn't stop looking enviously at Mommies with one and think, "Oh, enjoy that Only! What a breeze!"

Then everything just clicked. Just like all the Mommies that told me that it would. They were 100% right. Everything just started to work. I started to really enjoy my kids. Dread, Overwhelmed and Fear just walked right out the front door and Excited, Silly, Patient, Kind and Fun showed up to play.

This is why I will not say that Violet is 6 months old until she is...up until the very day before, she will be 5 months, or almost 6 months or whatever makes her less than 6 months. This is simply because she just isn't 6 months old. That time will come with its own joy and love so I need to let her have every last minute of being 5 months old.

Now, I know the value of a minute...of a day...of a month. Time means something different now.

Everything that drives me nuts today, could be gone tomorrow, so I have to endure the incessant, "Whatcha doin', Mommy?" and "What's that mean?" because one day, Owen will know what I'm doing and know what it all means. I have to stop and enjoy lugging my Sparkles everywhere, as she refuses to let me put her down, because one day she will walk all on her own.

Perhaps, I haven't washed my hair. Perhaps, I am covered in breast milk and spit up. Perhaps, I daydream about dry underpants and long naps. Perhaps, I spend my spare time learning the Batman characters and dinosaur species. It doesn't matter. I'm sure of it now. I am wise.

You must stop. Just stop and realize that a year or 2 or 4 or 6 from now, my couch will be lovely and my dining room will not be decorated in super hero and muppet accessories. The baby weight will come off eventually and I will look and feel myself once again. The "Someday Maybe" list will actually be addressed someday...maybe.

Now is not the time for all of the nonsense that fills up our day to day. Now is the time for keeping sweet records of all of the magical thinking, language learning, and love that's so deep I sometimes can feel it swallow me up whole...convincing me that a mother coined the term, "all choked up."

This mother of 2 under 2 thing (which I technically cannot say anymore), is a trip. It's super hard. It's non-stop. But, I got a handle on it.

My husband and I said our goodbyes to the beautiful cradle that both of babies slept in their first few months. It hurts to let go of the baby, but it's just as equally joyful to welcome the crawler, the toddler, the (sniff, sniff) little boy or girl.

See? I can finally enjoy all of it. I'm riding the wave...and believe me, it's super duper fun. I'm not missing out on a damn thing while I'm being a Mommy. I know it. See? I'm wise.

I told you, I got this. I got it handled.

No, I haven't been here in a while but, it's good to be back...and, I'll never be gone for long.

I leave you with these wise words from Walt Disney, "Cinderella, Cinderella take your time but hurry hurry!"

That's me.

Here. Now. and loving it all,

Cheri

What I've Learned So Far...

A mother of two definitely invented mimosas, early walkers are overrated, and if you don't have a wipe, baby will blow out (Similarly, if you don't have a burp cloth, they will spit up - see photo).

What else have I learned???

First, daddies have it easy. I know, I know, it's not politically correct to say so and I know that some daddies are the mac daddy (including Owen and Violet's daddy), but I've learned a little something about daddies...

When Daddy is with baby that's ALL HE DOES. Don't get me wrong. No one is more engaged with my kids than Daddy. Owen has his undivided attention when he has it at all. What is it my mom said? Andrew acts as if he is with someone else's kid? I love that.

But, when I come home from Daddy doing me a "favor" and watching the kids, on first, second and third glances, it's seems it's been anything but...

Maybe the kid has been fed, but the evidence of the meal is overwhelming and everywhere. The furniture has usually been moved ("How are we supposed to make room for dancing if we can't move the furniture, Cheri?"). Somehow, in the 2 or 3 hours I've been gone, they've managed to rack up 2 or 3 loads of laundry. And, undoubtedly, as soon as I walk in the door, Daddy sits down with a bottle to feed the baby, just so I can pump instead of nurse.

"Why didn't you call to see where I was? I could have easily nursed her..."

"I didn't want to bother you...It's your day off...I was trying to make things easy on you...blah, blah, blah..."

Leaving me with no ammo with which to bitch and a grumpy attitude during my 15 minute pumping session fantasizing about other ways I'd like to spend that time.

My "favor" has somehow morphed into an evening of pumping, cleaning, moving furniture and doing laundry.

The good news is, the kids had a blast while I was gone.

This is why Daddy's grand entrance into our home is revered much like the guru actually showing up at the shrine. He is always 100% engaged in whatever activity is presented. There is no emptying the dishwasher while he watches over puzzle completion or folding laundry while toddler makes a picture for Daddy.

Who can't be bothered with such nonsense as light housekeeping and day to day tasks while the kids are around??? Daddy. That's who!

Just think of it...have you ever heard a mommy say such an asinine sentence as, "I really need to make time for the kids." Or, "I need to spend more time with the family,"? No. Never.

Quality time is always appreciated and sought out, but even mommies that work all day every day, know that the buck stops with them. There are exceptions to every rule, but my crude observations so far validate that as soon as a mommy comes home, she is automatically punched in and on regardless of what daddy is doing. Mommies mere existence includes time spent with the kids and family.

The second thing that I have learned...and this one took a while to actually get into my thick skull...is that if I want anything else in my life whatsoever, I need help. Now.

I never knew how much I valued being able to spend even 5 minutes alone. Or, God forbid, doing nothing. A regular yoga class or a guitar lesson was a pipe dream up until this week.

That's why as I write, my toddler is playing with my new best friend, Nancy. A babysitter! Yay!

I've also coordinated a "night off from the toddler" with my neighbor. One night a week she takes them both, the other night, I do. Brilliant.

Because of the ridiculousness of mother guilt, I feel compelled to justify my need to ask for and hire some help. So, here goes...

Frankly, I just can't live like this. The to do list is never done. I can't even do it all, so getting ahead is out of the question. In my line of work this is not acceptable. After all, I am "Atlanta's Stress Therapist," right? I'm supposed to be an expert in stress and time management and if I can't do it, bitch, no one can!

(Insert smily face winking here).

Plus, let's face it, people, I'm cranky. I still have 10 or 15 pounds to lose (I can't bring myself to the get on the scale), I am nursing, I am up with a newborn at night, and I am navigating the daily, treacherous waters of caring for a 2 year old all day long. 2 under 2 is a rough ride!

My mother-in-law cheers me on the best...she's been telling me to get help since Owen was born. Here is a woman that was in law school when she had her first baby. Yikes. That sounds like a lot. Nevermind that I would rather go to jail for 4 years than go to law school for 3...that's a whole other blog.

As overwhelmed as I am, I realize how lucky I am that I had my babies as an older woman.

Ha! That sounds so funny. Am I an "older woman?" It sounds like such a drag, but it's true, I'm about to turn 39 in about a month or two and even though I ignored the ridiculousness of such a stupid label, I was, admittedly, "advanced maternal age" for both of my babies births.

But, I digress....

I think, for me, it all seems to work out because I'm not young and pissed. I can't imagine having kids young. I seriously think I'd just be pissed all the time. I see the show 16 and Pregnant (whoa) and although it's the extreme side of things, I can see these girls just living the angry life from here on out.

I think I'm a more patient mom, and probably more fun all the way around because I've done pretty much everything that I've wanted to...except for maybe perform as the the musical guest on Saturday Night Live (one can dream, right?).

I went to grad school, played in a band (www.13stories.com - a shameless plug!) and opened and still run my own business. I even traveled some and really enjoyed my marriage before the babies came.

So, I know that if I'm not doing it now, that it will come. That I will do it and it's possible. It's not a mystery or a dream. Some things will just be on my someday maybe list and I'm cool with that. Oh, I don't know, like, have a clean house, a book club for therapists, and long vacations.

But, I've figured out here lately, is that I'm choosy about what I want on that list. I don't want to have "finish my book" on my someday maybe list. I want to write now. I don't want to be in shape one day or feel guilty about meditating sometimes and not regularly. I want these things now.

So, basically, I don't feel like I won't get to do anything else for the rest of my life, but I also know what I like and what I need in my life to be well. Once you have this information and can conceptualize how you can get it into your life, it's virtually impossible to ignore.

So, I can do it...just not alone.

I hope Nancy is everything I think she is...I'm already having visions of going to her college graduation and lugging her with us on family vacations...

yesssssssssss,

Cheri

"It's the hardest job you'll ever love" and other true cliches...

Yes. I'm aware. It's been a long time since I've written anything.

I think from now on and forever my new (and valid!) excuse for everything will be: I have TWO kids, people!

Oh, how I look back at my gross naivety when meeting maternal goddesses in the past who would introduce themselves as a mother of two or more...

"Cool," I would casually shoot back.

Not knowing that she who stood before me was to be revered and honored as the perfect epitome of why mimosas, massages and yoga retreats were invented.

And who hasn't heard or (God forbid!) even spoken the words, "so, do you just stay at home with the kids?"

Maternity leave has been positively a peach for me. I can't imagine working. The six more weeks may as well be decades. Ambition is scarce these days. I think Sparkles suckles it out of me every 3 hours or so.

Who needs ambition when the dishwasher keeps breaking, I need my teeth cleaned, Owen is hellbent on potty training right this second and Sparkles can't keep a burp cloth clean for miles???

Oh, I love this life. Don't get me wrong.

Take yesterday, for example. At 9:30am we had "neighborhood coffee."This is a brilliant invention of my mother's where all the mommies in my neighborhood bring their two kids to one mommy's house, while another mommy gets to run out and get us all coffees. Yes. Brilliance. To be in the car totally alone....what a luxury!

At 11am I had a play date with a friend of mine that I used to be a cheerleader with in Jr. High...nuts. I know!

The kids played in the new outdoor "Flower Shower" that I recently bought at an art fair. It's great...it flows into the baby pool. The plants get watered, the kids have a ball, the mommies get some sun and, with a little splash of Burt's Bees for Babies, bath time is a breeze!

During our watery, sunny, play date a dear friend of mine came by to meet Violet. She closed her visit with a comment about my "fantastic boobs." I educated her on the breastfeeding "benefits" of leaving your membership to the "Itty Bitty Titty Committee" behind (of which, I frankly, want my card back).

Then, a little panic as Sparkles takes an entire bucket of cold water over her head curtesy of her big brother (I told her to get used to men, especially big brothers, ruining her day again and again); then, lunch and then...

The most wonderful part of every day. Nap time.

I think every mom has a "thing," and mine is sleep. My neighbor, Erin and I share our philosophy that sleep is the most important thing for our kids and their mommies. But, Owen is over the top...Erin and I also always joke that it's "always almost Owen's bedtime."

My kid takes a snooze every day from about 1:30-4:30 or 5pm. Sometimes I have to wake him up so he can go to bed at 6:30 or 7pm. It's nice to have this break every day, because it helps with the overwhelming guilt that I have because I'm not giving Violet near the amount of of one on one time that Owen got when he was her age.

Now, during nap time, I cavort with my newborn. The title implies so. much. work. But we casually played, cleaned the house in the sling, did our obligatory one load of laundry for the day (give it up, ladies. It will never be all done unless your maid or mom just finished it and it's over in 5 minutes. So, I've taken to just "getting a handle on it" with one load a day) and had ample tummy time. I even got a chance to take a shower!

At 5:15pm, when I woke up Owen, we went next door to play with Erin and her son Quinn. She also has a newborn Sparkle's age and her mother-in-law was in town, so it was a fun visit.

While there, I got a call from a college roommate of mine that wanted to come and meet Violet. So, we had dinner, got the kids to bed, drank a beer and visited until what I call, "pump and bedtime."

Oh yeah, have I mentioned that I've recently taken up drinking???

It was a fun day. Full. Busy. But, certainly, fun.

Busy. Ugh. Can we be here for a minute?

"Busy" drives me crazy. Everybody is busy. I just hate the word. And, it's so often used to imply condescension.

"How are you?"

"I'm sooooo busy."

As if no one can comprehend having a full day! I'm trying to make it a point to never answer the casual greeting and inquiry on how you're doing with "the busy response." These days, people are busy 24-7 and who's to say what busy even means??? It's at the busy bee's discretion...Busy with work, busy with kids, busy with a new hobby, busy watching Charlie Sheen's demise on YouTube...it doesn't matter what it is...it's all busy.

With kids...it's not so much the busyness, as it is the responsibility of it all. It's the "no light at the end of the tunnel," the "nothing to look forward to..." There just aren't any days off.

Even when someone takes them for a night or daddy gets to help out, it's still all you when you're the mom. The phone must be on. You must remain available always. You can never totally take yourself out of it and if for some reason you do, even for a split second during savasana, the guilt monster creeps in.

So, I'm thinking of hiring a mother's helper or a full on nanny a day or two a week to give me a hand (Guilt! Just stop, already!). I just want to do too many things right now and the rare, "holy crap! Are they both actually asleep at the same time?!?!" moments just aren't cutting it for me.

Personally, these moments paralyze me. I dance around feeling so free that by the time somebody wakes up, I've spaced out on an eBay auction or a completely non-urgent organizing project and not a thing that "needs" to be done has been addressed.

I'm overwhelmed. I'm ok. But I'm overwhelmed.

I want my body back. I've been big and I've been small and believe me, small is better.

I want to feel in shape and strong again.

I want a little something of my own. A regular yoga class. A coffee shop writing spree. An "I nailed it moment" on the guitar.

I don't want to get lost in the "When-Then Trap." You know, "when she can walk, then I won't need all of this baby stuff" or "when he goes to school, then it will be easier" or "when they can play together, then it will be manageable." These can go on and on and every single thing ends up lost somewhere in milestone land and then what have you really enjoyed???

I have to stay open and aware so I don't miss anything. Contrary to what Andrew has to say about it, this is my last baby and I want to be here with and for her every single second and I just can't. I need to focus on doing only what I can, with no looking back or wishing their lives away, and keep on making being in the moment the goal.

Then I look at my Sparkles, who everyday flashes pleasant resemblance reminders of my family (namely my awesome sister), and Owen, who's decided that Super Grover Underpants and Elmo rain boots are the fashion statement of this season and all of the cliches and lullabies make perfect sense.

It's all worth it in the end. It's the hardest job you'll ever love. But can you imagine your life any different?

Yes. It is.

No. I can't.

La,

Cheri

Hey, Pregnant Ladies! First Timers! News Flash! Newborns Are EASY!

My mother-in law came to get Owen today to take him for the whole weekend! Happy Mother's Day to me!

Now, I'm one of the lucky ones. I love my mother-in-law. She is a Superior Court Judge. So, I admit, when I first went to meet her, I was scared. I mean, she's a judge. To judge is her job.

Not to mention that she is also married to a man that was our county sheriff for 20 years. I'm just sayin' that on my way into her home for our "meet the parents" dinner, I double checked that I had parked okay.

But, she's the coolest. She is also a dream come true for my kids. I'm not kidding. Ready for this? She has a farm. A full-on, fully functional, funnest place for kids on Earth, farm. Complete with horses, donkeys, goats, cows, stray cats, dogs running everywhere, a barn, a lake...the whole deal. I mean, could you dream up a better Grandma situation???

So, I got Owen packed up this morning and he's off to the farm for the whole weekend!

Oh, don't get me wrong. I love that little bugger more than anything but Mama needs a break. You know what I mean?

A break, you say??? But how, Mom, can you get a break when you still have a newborn to care for all day AND night???

Here's the news flash. Once you've had a toddler, newborns are a piece of cake.

Let's take today, since Owen has left, for instance. Sparkles just tagged along as I treated myself to a day of shopping without the meal and time restraints or the added pressures of things like a "nap window" or using techniques like "redirection" all day long. Nope. Violet just chilled in the sling, then the car seat and finally, rolled around in the Snap N Go with absolutely no complaints.

I went to a restaurant and sat down without a booster or a high chair and ignored the crayons and kids menus and had someone wait on ME. I finished my whole meal all by myself and didn't even have to share it.

That was the biggest luxury of all...Eating! There were no little grubby hands pulling at me to share. This morning right after Owen left, I ate an entire bowl of cereal all by myself. I almost forgot that I could.

You know how Sparkles spent her day? Sleeping. Oh, how I had forgotten...Newborns are such sleepy creatures! How about 5 or 6 naps a day? I tend to my newborn for 5 minutes or so and she's all tuckered out. A snooze here a doze there...so nice.

With Owen I am reading books, rocking, singing, and rearranging the menagerie of items in his crib to comfort him just in an effort to help him fall swiftly asleep.

Some women fear the late night feedings and others, I think, exaggerate the inconvenience of a newborn's needs at night. Last night, Sparkles wanted to nurse every 2 1/2 hours. Now, along with the diaper changes and long newborn feedings, that was a drag.

But, is it really that bad? I mean, it's not like someone wakes you up so you can run a marathon or do a bunch of loads of laundry or something. It's this little angel staring up at you. You pick them up, nurse them, change them and throw them back in the crib. Pretty simple stuff.

Back to my easy, Owen-free day...and how about only having to clean my kitchen once today (Have you read my blog about nesting? I do it even when I'm not pregnant)??? These toddlers! I can give Violet a gourmet meal with a whip of titty. Owen expects like, three meals a day, people!

In fact, meals are often a point of contention. Owen and I are often negotiating, sometimes even arguing. His job is to incessantly test me and my job, I guess, is to incessantly fail.

By the way, can you imagine waking up so hungry and starving that you scream your head off?

Sparkles is always hungry and willing to eat so I can easily comply with all of the books and doctor recommendations on when to nurse and for how long so I can feel like the good mommy that I am supposed to by following all the rules. Owen won't allow such nonsense. I feel like a failure at almost every meal.

Besides demanding a meal here and there, with a newborn all is usually just fine. No screaming, "no!" No outright defiance here...My little angel can't even talk! Yesssss.

And when Violet does have a complaint, it's one of like four things that could be wrong. Hungry? Feed her. Tired? Sleep her. Wet? Change her. Grab a paci to go and it's an easy, breezy day.

What on Earth was I complaining about when Owen was born???

I guess it's the transition from 0 to 1 that is so difficult. The fact that you can no longer just go. That was the hardest for me. When you transition from 1 to 2 it's like, "What? I can't leave the house? Big deal. I haven't gone anywhere in 2 years."

There is also the demise of the "quick errand," the "I'll just jump in the car..." Nope. Quick anything is over.

This fact has inspired my neighbor, Erin. She dreams about a place called, "Drive-thru Land" where mommies never have to get out of the car to buy virtually anything...like shoes and diapers, no longer just limited to burgers and fries. I've been to this place. I call it

Amazon.com.

So, here I am wrapping up an easy day with just the two of us girls. And, really, it has been a blast.

Here is the best part of all. Sparkles has started smiling.

Yes, after 6 weeks of only showing displeasure, what a delight! I think it's God's way. So, when your little one finally does show that she is pleased, you will do anything on God's green Earth to see it again.

So, see? She just can't do a damn thing wrong...and boy, does it make her easy to love.

Happy Mother's Day,

Cheri