The Old Days

Mommy lesson #3 - you will miss your husband (or significant other, to be politically correct)

The first night we were home with Grace, I remember looking across the room at Pat and bursting into tears. I thought to myself  "it is never going to be just the two of us ever again". Don't get me wrong. I was so happy to be a mommy. I loved that little girl more than life itself. But my world was rocked. Everything was different and it would never be the same. That's one hell of a pill to swallow.

So as happy as you are, you most definitely go through a little mourning period. You have to mourn the loss of your kidless self, the loss of the relationship you once knew, and the loss of sleeping peacefully through the night. OK, that last one is a little shallow...but screw that! I miss my sleep.

On the bright side, you do realize a whole new level to your relationship. Between the exhaustion, hormones and crying infant I think it is safe to say that the first few weeks of having a newborn are a trying time in your marriage. But you get through it, you make it to the other side. You gain patience. You enjoy the adult company. You learn to appreciate each other. And you become a team. It was after having my kids I realized that not only did I have a husband, I had a partner. Child rearing had become our business and we were in serious negotiations.

However, there are still nights that I sit across the room from him, holding crying babies, trying to wind down from the day and just stare at him. I miss him. I miss who we used to be.

But then I think about how far we've come. I think about the man he has become. How his daughter melts him and how he is so in love with his son. He loves us unconditionally. I mean, Christ, the man has seen me naked, strapped to a table and sliced open to birth a child...and he still loves me. So I guess that old adage is true...one door closes, another opens. Relationships change.

And in time...those kids will grow up and leave us (God willing). And we will have each other again. Until then, we will keep having conversations over screaming kids, cross paths during our morning craziness, and savor our very rare date night.

Grace-isms

Grace is one of the funniest people I know. The things that come out of that kid's mouth are awe inspiring. She is a 60 year old woman trapped in a three year old body. She's an old soul, I do believe.  There are really too many funny Grace-isms to go through right now, so I will try to periodically update this. Here are a few for now...enjoy:

 - She talks to her brother like I do..."Hey little guy! How you doing, buddy? Who's my good boy?" (in a high pitched sing song voice)

 - "That makes me kinda nervous"

 - "This is unbeweevable!"

 - Pat is running around trying to find his misplaced keys. "Well, Daddy, they didn't just get up and walk away."

 - Grace: "Mama, I love you. You will be my wife". Me: "What does that mean, Grace?" Grace: "It means we love each other and dance together."

 - "Mama, you had me so worried!" - she told me this when she couldn't find me for five minutes. Yeah, I was in the basement doing laundry.

 - "Let's go to the jungle" - this is in reference to the zoo.

Don't worry folks...there will be much more to come! The Grace-isms are endless.

Circle of Friends

Mommy lesson #2 - get a posse. You need people to have your back.

Grace was born in the cold, dark month of December. The days were short, the nights were long and the weather was typical New England - cold and snowy. I was hormonal, tired and lonely. I know...how can you possible be lonely when you are never actually alone. It is crazy but SO true. Being a new mother is incredibly lonely. It is you and a little butterball who yells at you (a lot) and demands your undivided attention.

I heard about these "new moms groups" that were really popular. I SOOOO didn't need that! I was young, hip and I had plenty of friends. I thought, who needs to join a group to make friends?

Oh yeah...this girl right here does.

So I was pretty crazy after I had Grace. Hormones were raging and tears were flowing. My doctor suggested I try a new moms group to have people to talk to. I was hesistant. I couldn't do ANYTHING without bursting into tears. Did I really want to get in front of a group of women I didn't know and lose my shit? Well, no...but I am pretty sure at this point, my husband was going to pack my bags and send me to the looney bin, so I had to give it a try.

The group met in the basement of a health club. I walked through a GYM, with fit and healthy and beautiful people. I was lugging a car seat with a newborn baby, sporting dirty hair, a flabby belly and a puke stained shirt. Yeah...this wasn't going well so far. I walked in to find a circle of women sitting on the floor with their infants.

I guess the best way to decribe it is this: picture an AA meeting. But instead of having an alcohol problem, you have a baby problem. "Hi, my name is Jill and I have a six week old." When it was my turn to talk, I was asked "Anything you want to talk about or ask, Jill?"

"Ummm, yeah....how the hell do you all take a shower???"

And then I heard the most brilliant thing that has ever come out of another human being's mouth...

"Just bring the bouncy seat into the bathroom. The warm room, the sound of the water and your voice will keep her calm."

I am a college educated woman...you mean to tell me I had to join a freakin' club to figure this out...but that is the beauty of it. The women there understand you are temporarily brain dead...and they are here to help. And they don't jusdge your puke stained shirt or greasy hair (well outwardly, anyway).

There was talking, laughing, crying. We chatted and fed our babies, drank coffee and found a refuge. Other people felt the same way I did...and actually had logical ideas. Child rearing, and keeping your sanity was actually a possibility. Glimmers of hope shone. Hallelujah!

I am still friends with all these women. Our children (who are now 2 and 3) still play together, and we still bounce ideas off each other. And it is totally the best place to bitch about how hard your week has been, or how your kid is driving you crazy. Misery most certainly does love company!
Oh...and it makes the playground SO much more tolerable when you have an adult to talk to!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Yesterday I drove by an orphanage. I saw kids in hand me down coats, kicking around a ball, laughing. It made me tear up. Those poor babies just want what every kid wants...love and affection. It made me give my own babies a little extra squeeze that night. How lucky are we? No matter what, my kids have a loving family. People who love them and care for them.

Today I am sitting here, looking at my beautiful family. The family that I made. I am thankful for every second I have with them. A few things I cherish the most these days:

- Baby belly laughs

- Tears, because I am the lucky one who gets to kiss them away

- Big gummy smiles from Patrick (especially first thing in the morning)

- Chubby baby thighs

-Watching Grace have an "aha moment" (not to quote Oprah or anything)

- Black leotards, pink tights and white ballet slippers...because they just look so freaking cute on my girl.

- Coffee and wine, or as I like to call it...mommy fuel

- My baby carrier...without you, what the hell would I do with that kid??

- Sesame street...you guarantee me at least one hour of peace.

- Facebook...need I say more

I am trying to remember to take every day as it comes. I am slowing down and enjoying my babies while they are still babies. The laundry and dishes can wait. Soon enough, my kids aren't going to want me around like they do now. They will grow and flourish. They will have friends and significant others. They will be standing on their own two feet. And that's OK...it means I have done my job. But I want to make sure I have as many happy memories of their childhood as I possibly can, so I can hold onto these times.

There's my words of wisdom for the day.

Now go eat some turkey! And wear your stretchy pants, for the love of God.

Holy Shit (and various other bodily fluids)

Have you any idea how many bodily fluids I come in contact with on a daily basis???

Between my career as a nurse and my life as a mother, things gets pretty messy. At the end of any given day, you can tell exactly what my kids have eaten by the stain patterns of my clothes. I generally don't even bother putting any effort into getting dressed these days. Partly because by the time I have dressed the kids, I am so exhausted I could give a rat's ass about how I look. But also because I know that within thirty seconds of getting dressed I will be likely be sporting puke, shit and pee stains.

I am totally OK with this. I know it is one of those parts of motherhood that is rarely talked about (I mean...why would you WANT to talk about it??). But I will say, when I see a mother walking around in expensive clothes, a coach bag, and her hair actually washed, all I can think to myself is "Bitch...who you kiddin? You know you are getting slimed at some point today anyway. Why bother? Face it...you no longer live in the world of the hip and fashionable, or even people how enjoy a daily shower." But I guess that is kind of jaded right?

So just to give you an idea of how messy a job motherhood actually is, here are a few true life scenarios I have encountered:

* A few weekends back, my sister was babysitting for me in the morning so I could sleep after working the night shift. I kid you not...literally thirty seconds after being awake I was covered in Cheeto fingerprints from Grace and puke from Patrick. My sister was amazed...and a little appalled I suspect.

* One time I realized I was tracking poop through my house. It was on my sneakers. No, I had not stepped in dog poop as one would suspect. I had accidentally, somehow stepped in a dirty diaper. I was tracking Patrick poop around the house. I know it sounds weird. but other moms can back me up on this...I know it.

* I have actually picked my kids nose. If I see a bat in the cave, I can't just in good conscience leave it there!

* I became obsessed over my kids pooping habits when Grace was just a baby suffering from constipation issues (I am sure that ten years from now, she will be thrilled I blogged about her bowel habits. I am considering it payback for the terrible twos.) Because of this obsession, you can generally hear a conversation like this in my house on most days "Did Grace poop today? What did it look like?" And yup...this is totally a conversation over dinner.

* One day, I changed SIX poopy diapers in thirty minutes. My children took turns pooping, getting changed, pooping, getting changed. They were totally conspiring against me. To which I very rationally exclaimed "THIS BETTER BE IT...NEXT KID TO POOP CHANGES THEMSELVES"

* OK, seriously...I couldn't make this up!!! In the time it has taken me to write this blog, Grace has pooped twice.

Even more interesting to me...the loss of inhibition you have over dealing with OTHER kids various excrement. I have wiped other kids boogies, changed diapers, been puked on. When you are in a group of moms and kids, the crowd develops the "everyone just dive in and help out" mentality. Really, whether it's your kid or not... poop is poop, puke is puke. Wise words to live by.

Would You Rather?

Remember this fun game? Would you rather eat a bug or a worm? Be eaten by a shark or drown? All these bizarre scenarios are thrown out there and you have to decide which is the lesser of two evils. I am pretty sure it was a popular college game...when you were drunk...or maybe that was just my friends.

Anyway, the point to all this is that I heard an interesting new version of this game the other day. I like to think of it as "Would You Rather - Mommy Version". 

While at a playgroup with some awesome mamas and a whole bunch of toddlers, I heard one of my friends say she had to go have a root canal that day. "Oh no, that sucks! I am so sorry". Her response - "It's OK. At least I will get a few moments of peace."

That's right, folks. You read it right. She would rather have a drill taken to her teeth than give up her chance for a tantrum free, question free, nobody is hanging on my leg begging for something hour to herself. 

And you know what...I TOTALLY GET IT!!!

I am willing to bet that if you asked any mother to go to the grocery store at peak time, go to the dentist,  go get a pap smear, sit through a lecture on some boring topic....she would do it, without hesitation, and probably with a big freakin' smile on her face. 

She knows that this mean she will have at least an hour of "mommy time" Kid free, blissful alone time. Doesn't matter where it happens or under what circumstances. We don't need a spa, we will settle for a dentist chair. 

I remember that before kids, certain tasks were considered a chore - Going to work, going to the gym, grocery shopping. Now I consider all of these things FUN!! And RELAXING!! 

So next time you see a woman sitting in the waiting room of a doctor's office or dentist office, skipping down the aisle pushing a grocery cart, or standing in the longest line in the world with the biggest smile on her face...you don't have to ask...yes she really is THAT happy...and now you know why. I just let you in on one of the secrets to surviving mommyhood.

Holy Tantrum, Batman

We are all being held captive these days by a tiny dictator and her nasty little temper.

Grace has been a pretty mellow kid. Sure, we had the occasional meltdown, a time out here or there. But I had it all in check. I had the easiest kid in the whole world. I was super mom.

Stupid, stupid woman...

A few weeks ago the beast was unleashed without warning. I have no idea what prompted it. When I talk to my other mommy friends about this, I get this as an answer:

"Yeah, right before they turn three, they get really difficult. Three was a lot harder than two."

WELL GIVE A SISTER A HEAD'S UP, PEOPLE!!!

Really, there should be a formal warning label attached to all toddlers..."PROCEED WITH CAUTION."

So here is how it all went down...

I am sitting on the couch holding Patrick. Grace is playing on the floor. Everything is peachy. Grace decides to throw a shoe.

"Grace, don't throw your shoe. You could hurt somebody."

Grace looks at me, picks up the other shoe, and throws it.

Oh no you didn't, little girl.

"Grace, you are going to sit on the step for not listening."

KAAABBBBOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!

I watch as my sweet baby girl screams, yells, cries, stomps.  She is put in her room. Pat and I stare at each other. Disbelief and I think a little terror in our eyes. So the plan of attack: to come out of her room, she has to say sorry. Yeah, that's right...I went Supernanny on her ass.

I open the door. She is sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, tear streaked face. I feel my heart break. But I know I am right.

"Grace, you threw a shoe after I told you not to. You were not listening so you had to go into time out. You need to say sorry to mama for not listening and then you can come out of your room."

"No."

*blink, blink*

WHAT?!?!? Seriously...was not expecting that. Shit. Now I have to keep doing this! So I shut the door. She melts down again. 5 minutes later, I go in requesting an apology for her bad behavior and I get nothing.

This goes on for 45 minutes.

The girl is nothing if not persistent.

Anyhoo, that was my first experience with a toddler tirade. And they have continued. It absolutely sucks knowing you are going to go ten rounds with a person you can never win with. Because as much as I hate to see her being fresh, I freakin' HATE disciplining her.

I totally know that it is a necessary evil. And believe me, I do not want a monster on my hands. But when I see her upset, my first reaction will always be to comfort her. Now to act against that instinct is torturous for me. But I am doing it...for the greater good and for the sake of all people who will ever have to deal with my daughter in the future. I mean, the whole point to this parenting thing is to raise a decent human being, right??

I think the other hard part is the embarassment. The gawks of strangers (or even not strangers) while your kid explodes like a landmine. In my earlier years, Kidless Jill was totally guilty of judging people whose kids acted out in public. I will admit it now. I used to think to myself "Don't let that brat get away with it." If I could, I would go back in time and slap Kidless Jill right in the mouth...foolish girl.

If only I knew that one day I would be one of these poor, tired, beaten down parents who are just trying to walk the fine line between doing the best by their kids and keeping what's left of their own sanity.

I don't like to be a Debbie Downer, so I will say, that Grace is still mostly a joy. She is still warm, loving, polite and sweet. She will crawl up in my lap at least once a day to tell me she loves me. And happily, I have found Halloween candy to be a great bribe for good behavior.

So for now, I am proudly sticking to my guns, taking each day as it comes, enjoying the times with my sweet baby Grace, constantly trying to ward off her evil twin...and drinking wine (lots and lots of wine).