I Never

There are tons of perfect parents out there.  In fact, I would be willing to guess we all know at least one, if not several.  Straight up perfect parents.  They are all the people...without kids.

True, right?  The lady in the cracker aisle at the grocery store eyeballing your writhing cart of toddler and goldfish?  Perfect parent.  The man sighing heavily behind you in line at McDonald's while you try and organize all your moving pieces?  Perfect parent.  I know it.  And I was no better.  Before I had kids, I too was a perfect parent.  I knew exactly how to fix all problems and when I did have kids I would never...

Let them play with my phone.  There are a thousand toys for kids to play with, including ones that look exactly like my phone.  Why would I let them have the one toy of mine that I play with, ummm...use for productive purposes...all day long?  Because no matter how many toys or fake phones or dancing clowns that make blow up balloon phones you have in a room...your child will know they are all peanuts compared to that ONE thing you tell them they can't have.  And they won't forget you have it, and will beg for it, until your ears bleed.  You don't want bleeding ears around living room furniture.  And you want to hear what that green fuzzy stuff is on Top Chef.  And you just want this screaming, whirling dervish that you created to be still for five precious moments.  This is how toddlers learn to play Angry Birds.  My one year old is an expert candy crusher.  I am not ashamed.  Ok, maybe a little ashamed...

Let them sleep in my bed.  Ok, sure, from time to time on a rough night but this is no community bed here, got it?  This is a mommy and daddy bed, where we go to try and find a little quiet and where we get to look at each other without any toddlers pulling at our body parts thinking candy will fall out.  That worked until I got pregnant and Baby Boy started sleeping so awful and I couldn't lift him anymore and Jack slept like the dead and I had all this guilt over replacing my baby with this new one and I said...screw it.  What is it going to hurt.  Now Baby Girl is two months old and Baby Boy is stuck like a burr in my sheets.  In my sheets that he twists up and pees on and lives in between me and Daddy on. It hurt.  It still hurts.

Dress like a mom that has given up.  I would not be caught dead in public in shirts with baby stains or sweatpants or my hair not brushed and straightened.  How hard is it to pull yourself together?  Jeans match everything, grab a nice shirt and some cute shoes and have a little respect ladies!  Ha.  What I didn't know is jeans are the devil once you give birth.  No matter what kind of fit you get, it does not seem to work.  True high waisted jeans make you look like you just immediately got knocked up again.  My trusty midsize favorites all fell right across the middle of my new baby pooch section, pulling it into two pooch sections like a muffin top meeting a muffin bottom.  Not only does this look as unappealing as it sounds, it is also very uncomfortable.  I have little kid fingers poking me in the eyes a hundred times thanks to some stupid "learning" book (Mama, EYES!) - I do not need to make myself more uncomfortable.  So it seems like the only answer is lowrise jeans.  Except then the pooch all hugs together and flops over the waistband.  No muffin top here, more like a wad of uncooked pizza dough is falling out of your pants.  No matter how hard you try and stuff it back in, another piece oozes out.  And try bending down to do one of a hundred things you do at little kid level...while trying to keep your shirt down in back so you don't imitate a plumber.   Impossible.  A curious child is going to shove Froot Loop down there.  Kids do the darndest things.  And any top you put on is immediately a magnet for all kinds of baby bodily fluids and toddler messes.  Yeah, my "clothes" and my "pajamas" are now eerily similar.  Jack is afraid to ask if I am actually dressed or not sometimes. Scrub pants, yoga pants, pajama pants, sometimes no pants...plus whatever shirt is clean that has the least breastmilk stains at the moment...and I am ready to greet the day.

Let them eat junk food.  Why would I?  It is so easy to have little servings of healthy snacks.  How will they know about junk if I don't give it to them?  Well, it is kind of like the phone situation.  You can put a thousand healthy snacks in front of them and you would swear they won't eat a thing...and then they gobble up five Twinkies they stole from a box on a low shelf in the pantry.  They know.  I don't know how, but something instinctively tells them they want the one thing vibrating with force of all its sugar.  And you say you won't give in but then they go on hunger strikes and refuse to eat and try and subside on milk bottles alone...and you give into their demands because all that mommy guilt eats away your rational brain cells.  Then those ones are replaced with sneaky mom brain cells and you discover veggie straws and fruit snacks and goldfish.  All of which still lure your little sugar seeking missile while still having at least some nutrional value when compared to Twinkies and Doritos.  I am told eventually they will eat real food again, but for now I am happy with any bite that is not coming from the one last bottle Baby Boy is clinging to for dear life.

So maybe that is the lesson here...pick your battles.  Compromise.  Bend.  And don't be so hard on them and yourself.  What these perfect parents don't yet know is the sheer volume of daily battles that kids provide.  You can't win them all.  And stay sane.  And see who wins Top Chef.  Sacrifices must be made.

Pause

In all the free time I have - hahahaha - ok in all the down time I have where I am nursing or rocking or stuck wide awake at night worrying about ridiculous things like what would I do if my house was attacked by a trained team of assassins or how I would escape my house if it were on fire and all my kids were unconscious and both my legs were broken and the stairs caved in......in all THAT time...I read different blogs, many of them mommy blogs.  There seems to be a recurring blog topic about things no one tells you if you are a new mom.  And almost everyone mentions something along the lines of how you will want to run away or you will not think motherhood is the best thing ever or you will at some point want to sell your baby to a traveling gypsy in exchange for a really comfy pillow and a clean shirt.  I am not there yet, but here is what I do wish for:

A pause button.

On those crazy days where it feels like I am swimming against the current from the minute I wake up and never making any headway...I would be so happy to stop all my children in their tracks.  I don't want to run away from them or drop them somewhere or drink until I forget I have them...I just want them to STOP.  Stop absolutely everything.  Pause.  And then I would sit down and breathe for a minute or five.  Chuckle a little at how silly they look paused in mid tantrum.  Sip a drink instead of guzzle on the run.  Eat a plate uninterrupted without someone taking a piece.  I would take ten minutes and clean up around them and admire how nice it looked.  I would pee without company and without an ear pressed to the door to listen for impending disasters.  I might even take a shower where I can both wash my hair AND shave.  I would kiss my husband like it might lead to something.  Place a glass cup at the edge of the table next to a sharp knife and a few choking hazards.  Leave the baby gates open and the doors unhooked.  Plug my cell phone in below waist level.  Live dangerously. 

And then...then I would un-pause them because I love them to bits and by that point I would miss them and the hundred funny things they do in a day.  But I would have my breath back - to better enjoy all one hundred of those moments. 

Fathers Day 2014

Five days a week, sometimes six or seven, Jack works all day.  Sometimes eight hours, sometimes ten, sometimes from sun up to sun down.  He gets up at sunrise, tells me to have a good day and heads downstairs to start his morning.  When he comes home he waters plants, picks up the yard, takes care of the dogs, takes out the trash, plays catch with our son, takes a shower with our toddler, holds the baby so I can pee alone, listens to our girls sing or dance or share tween drama.  He tries to sit down for a family meal, listens to requests for his time and money and permission, and reads bedtime stories.  He pays bills and carries laundry and plays with power tools when I need them.  He gives out hugs and discipline and attention as needed. He helps draw baths and pour bottles and shoo kids to bed.  He listens as I unload all the adult things I have wanted to say all day that I have held in with the houseful of minors.  He does not mention any lingering messes or ask me why I look like I led a field trip to a vomit factory.  He tells me about his day and his plans and his interesting phone calls.  He gets into bed next to me, kisses me goodnight, turns on the tv, and is asleep two minutes later.  And eight hours later, he does it all over again. 

He is the best.  I am blessed to have him as a husband and our children are blessed to have him as their dad.  And two very important men raised us both with the set of family values that we have used to create this family.  So to my dad, and his dad - thank you for the example and for the role you continue to play as grandpas to our beautiful and sometimes chaotic children.  And to Jack - you are teaching our sons how to grow up to be good men, and teaching our daughters not to settle for anything less.  I love how the boys follow you everywhere you go and the girls run to you with their stories and our baby listens rapt when you speak.  Our kids all know that you love them and will protect them and that you find joy in them.  And so do I.  I love you for that and I appreciate all that you do in a day to support our family.  Happy Father's Day.

Backyard Project - Check-In

June 14th...and here is what I know:

* Jack added stone to the side of the deck and it is great!  This was a mud pathway before so not only does it look ten times better but it keeps mud out of our house!  Double win!

* Baby Boyloves rocks.

* Growing lettuce from seed was easy, it was my first year, will have to do it some more.

* I planted 3 tomato varieties...the super sweet 100's grow fast and big...next year I will need to remember they can't share pot space.  The 4th of July look unhealthy, but according to the internet they are supposed to look that way.  Who knew? Of the original 15 plants, ALL are still living.  Woot!

*  I planted 8 varieties of peppers...the best one seems to be a yellow bell so far, although all are growing somewhat.  Of the 26 I planted in the ground, 18 are still with us.  My dogs are pepper plant murderers.  I keep throwing obstacles in their way, which is why that bed now has a pretty fence and cartons around the plants and stakes in the middle.  I am determined to beat them and produce peppers.  Developing story, stay tuned...

*  I am pretty pleased with my upside down hanging plants so far.  They are all growing upward toward the sun so they have stems with U-turns, which my kids found funny.  Jalepenos and banana peppers seem to be flourishing best this way so far. 

* Our pickling cucumbers are doing fantastic, although we have lost 2 out of 12 plants to wild animals. (Not our dogs, probably bunnies on stilts). This is our 3rd year growing these in the planter boxes Jack made - love them!

* Jack also made this herb garden for me three years ago - it was out first big project together and it still makes me happy.  I usually do a mix of herbs and flowers and it seems to work well.  The only thing I have ever put in it that didn't work was strawberries, not sure why.  It makes me feel like I am on the Food Channel every time I go out and cut fresh herbs for recipes.  So fun!

Best Marriage Ever!

Jack and I were recently were complimented on the strength of our marriage.  This is lovely to hear, not because we think we are perfect by any means but because we value our relationship and put effort in to make each other happy.  It is nice that someone noticed.  If I had to bullet list, this is what I would say is most important ...

1. Most days, we both try and hold up our fair share.  I say most days because let's be honest...some days I barely make it through by the grip of my gnawed-to-the-cuticle nails.  When the kids turn ugly, my goal is to just not leave lasting psychological damage as I yell and herd and try to contain the crazy.  And Jack has days at work that just hit him hard where he comes home and as much as he tries to stay present, his eyes refuse to cooperate and he is snoring on the couch while the kids run around like sugar fueled hyenas I have to try and wrestle into bed on my own.  Some days get away from you, no matter how good your intentions.  But most days...Most days Jack goes to work to provide for our family and then comes home and kisses me and asks how our day went.  He makes Baby Girl smile, takes Baby Boy on a wagon ride, and listens to our Big Kids tell him a hundred little things that loom large in their world.  He sits down with us for dinner, helps with baths and pjs and bedtime stories, and then...sometimes...when the stars are in perfect alignment and the gods are generous...sometimes he gets quiet time with Mama.  And most days...most days I spend the day trying to make all our tiny people a little bit smarter, a little bit more responsible, and a little bit more confident in who they are and their place in this world.  I oversee homework and chores and even though it is so, so, so tedious and they shoot me murderous looks almost every time...I ask them a hundred times a day to pick up after themselves because someday I want their future spouses to like me.  I drive mini trucks on my knees around the table until it's hard to breathe and read the same story twenty times over and arrange play dates with other tiny people.  In between that I try to keep a handle on the mountain of laundry a household of seven creates, clean the rest of the house, and keep somewhat healthy food in the kitchen and on the table.  Sometimes...when the stars are in perfect alignment and the gods are generous....I spend quiet time with Jack.  We both are all in to this family and to each other and we live that every day. 

2.  We are kind to each other.    As if by magic, my van almost always has a full tank of gas.  Which is so amazing, as any person who has ever tried to run errands with little people will tell you.  It is one little thing Jack doesn't have to do, but does anyway, that makes me life better.  Similarly, Jack has a magic lunchbox. He is capable of making his own lunch and I don't need to make his lunch every day.  But I do because it is a small thing that I can do that makes his life better.  Every day at lunch I know that he sees that I care that he has a good lunch and for a for a minute he is reminded of how much I love him.  And every night when I make his lunch I am reminded of how hard he works and know how much he loves me.  These are just two small things but at the end of the day, small things add up.

3.  We watch what we say.  This is a second marriage for both of us,  which is a nice way of saying we know all the things that screw up marriages already.  We know that words are not just words.  Once said, they bounce around in your skull and whisper to you - the big nasty fighting ones and the small nagging daily ones and all the negative comments in between.   We (mostly) think before we speak, take a beat to calm down when upset, and never say things we can't take back.  We also (mostly) say thank you, take time to talk about our day, and always say I love you.  If the voices in our heads are going to whisper things to us all day, then we want them to be positive things.

Ok, that was an awful bullet list...no bullets in sight and I talk too much.  Thank God Jack loves me despite my literary flaws.

Backyard Project - Midpoint

This is how our backyard project looks now.  We love the new functionality, it is actually usable space for us!  Before, if we are being honest, it was pretty much wasteland that we let the dogs roam.  Now?  Family space!  Jack still is going to pour some concrete and we are in discussions about decorative stone.  I am also very curious to see the outcome of our container gardening.  With all the backyard space plus the hanging garden plus my garden pot garden and the side herb garden....We have 15 tomato plants, 32 pepper plants, a dozen pickle plants, and a full kitchen herb garden.  We may or may not have spinach and lettuce...depending on if I can convince Baby Boy that he can't dig up those seeds after I plant them.  Updates on that and more in a few weeks!  For now, enjoy the pictures and think happy growing thoughts.

18 Years Is Not Enough

Parenting a toddler is hard work, but there are so many immediate rewards.  Excited "mama!" cries and big toothy smiles and desperate little hugs and cuddly sweaty naps.  I cannot imagine a time where my baby boy will not love me this fiercely.  To be honest, thinking about it gives me mild panic attacks in the middle of the night when he is all cuddled up to me , breathing his sweet baby breath on my shoulder.  How on earth am I going to handle my little boy growing up, not needing me so much, being mad and angsty with me as a teen, getting a girlfriend and then a wife who will take my spot as number one female in his life? At this point, it is unfathomable to me that any of this is possible, let alone inevitable.  And everyone that sighs as they pet my kids and tells me to enjoy it because it goes so fast?  That does not help.  It makes me feel guilty any time I say no to reading about dinosaurs for the thirtieth time that morning so I can get laundry started.  Stupid mommy, I will regret that one day, right?  But my family also needs clean underwear.  Sacrifices must be made.  I can't literally soak up every moment and hold it close, there is life to be lived here. But it still makes my heart hurt to think that one day I will be the one reaching over to some cute baby and wistfully telling their mommy how fast time goes by.

I guess that is why God gives you eighteen years to raise them and not 6-8 days like birds.  He knows mommies need a bit more time.

Backyard Project

These may not be super interesting or super witty...they are mainly just to track progress of our latest project, the backyard.  Jack and I are project people.  We like to plan and plot and try to figure out the best way to take advantage of what we have.  And we are great project partners; I like to brainstorm ideas and Jack always figures out the best way to implement them for our home.  Together we have done some very cool things so far. 

Our newest endeavor?  Our teeny tiny backyard that has been virtually unusable because our three dogs run around and kill all the grass and create muddy grossness.  This project started off with us musing about how futile it was to put more grass seed down and how we should have a grass free back yard, like they do in Arizona perhaps.  Then Jack had a job where there were a bunch of deckboards he could have if he wanted and I suggested a little patio.  Jack was hooked, the plotting began and grew and now we are about halfway through what we want to accomplish - and I already cannot believe this is our yard.  To start, I will post our before picture here and within a few days I will follow up with progress pictures!

Tummy Time

When I was pregnant, I frequently walked around our house with my shirt riding up, belly out.  And not peeking out, but total belly reveal.  Tucking-my-shirt-into-the-bottom-of-my-bra belly out.  Jack was initially horrified.  He repeatedly asked me if I knew that my belly was showing, like maybe it was an accident and he thought I would be embarrassed and quickly cover up so no one could see the hugeness of my belly.  Like with my shirt down I was fooling everyone, my clothes camoflauging the human being I was carrying around.  Belly?  What belly?  Ain't no belly here.  After my response was "So????", accompanied by a dare-you-to-keep-speaking-stare only seen on the faces of third trimester pregnant ladies, I think he became resigned to the fact that his wife was going to be more hillbilly than high fashion for the next few months. One time when I was feeling less combative than usual I think I did try to explain that I just hated the feeling of anything constricting my belly, but I don't think his man brain understood.  My kids liked to come up and poke at my collection of stretch marks- the worn, silvery ones from Mason and the angry, puffy ones Ava was creating.  They were equal parts disgusted and fascinated by them.  I think all in all my whole family was glad when Ava came.

Here is the problem.  I still always want to have my belly out. It still feels constricting to have a shirt on.  I still rub my belly like I am reassuring the baby that has already left the building.  I still find myself resting a hand on it and patting it and setting food items on it.  Like my body is in denial that Baby Girl has moved out.  And all those things that were half cute and half crazy but understandable for a pregnant lady are NOT acceptable once you give birth.  Imagine seeing some 30 something lady in a grocery aisle pulling her shirt up, absentmindedly rubbing her stretch marks and patting her belly roll while she decides between rosemary garlic or chipotle.  Then she tells her belly her choice (rosemary garlic), leaves her shirt up, and heads to the freezer section to debate ice cream flavors.  THIS IS MY KITCHEN.

My poor husband.