Category: Uncategorized (Page 89 of 188)

give and get

I knew parenthood would usher in an age of giving up certain things on my end. Sleep was quite obvious. Perhaps a good share of warm meals. Choice of evening literature. But the list continues to grow for things I just didn’t seem to anticipate slipping from my grasp as little ones made their appearances. 

1. The living room floor. At any given time you can anticipate something to be clustering it up, if not a permanent stain or the dog trying to consume the last of the milk spill. Currently H boy is using a down throw from the living room to cover up anything with large surface area: the toy box, coffee table, footstool, his sister… 
2. Bathroom time as private time. This morning 3 of the 4 of us were in the 2nd smallest room in this house. 
3. The best or last swallow of food and drink. Between Miss M’s obsession with anything cup-related and H’s love for food, I have to keep my best snacking for sleeping hours. 
4. Showering. I can be quick, but do you know how much they can get into in a 5 minute window? It’s either the house stays [relatively] clean or I do. And no one yells when I smell. 
5. Looking cute. By the time I get them dressed and together, we’re lucky if I have both shoes on, let alone mascara. So those few victorious times (today is one of them) are celebrated. 
I’m curious what other things parents have given up that they never imagined to be part of the parenthood deal.

if he were a woman

Husband informed me tonight that our relationship would teeter on the edge of perfect if he were the woman and I were the man. He told me this in the context of needing to offer a wee bit more for childcare than what I’m currently seeking. But he had 3 solid reasons for seeing it as a rosy role-reversal:

1. I like to use my brain more. I think it’s “funner” (yes, direct quote). 
2. He has too much testosterone, which causes him to get more angry (because we all know estrogen doesn’t do that?), so even though he would enjoy staying home with the kids, this hormone apparently renders him exempt. Or inept. Or something. 
3. There was a mention of sex drive, but I tuned that out.  
It’s hard to believe that nearly 3 years later I’m still battling the internal wars of mommy vs. worker bee. On the one side, I love not rushing out the door and getting to spend time with the kiddos each day. I love making them good food and taking them to the park. Today I even enjoyed our outing to the doctor’s office (everyone was on primo behavior). And nap time. I LOVE nap time. 
But I also crave social interaction. And not just the “can I have your recipe for granola bars” type of interaction, but real, meaty conversation. And trivial gossipy conversation. Or work-related conversation. I love common goals and strategy and planning. I love imagining what could be and coming up with ways to get us there. Devising solutions. I’m all about the process as much as the product. 
Husband is right: I do love to think and read and create and… well, think. But it’s hard to get real strategic with a 2 year old, even when it comes to potty training. The most vision we have to our days are the promises of something fun on the other side of a good nap. So without these managerial elements, I’m left a bit empty. I have an task-centered, goal-oriented hole in my heart that my kids just don’t fill. And to be honest, when my cerebral itch doesn’t get scratched, I tend to gravitate toward the world wide and it’s web to keep my mind engaged. But while engaged with electronics, my children run amok. Not the win-win we’re looking for. 
Fortunately, it might not be up to me to actually try to make a decision about how to balance work and home. We’re a sitter’s worst nightmare: part-time. So by keeping us on board, she’s not able to keep other kids that could be a bigger paycheck. I spoke with one this evening who was absolutely wonderful, but it’s hard to for her to justify aligning with us when the take-home pay just might not be worth her time. She’s even worked with special needs kids before (one with a loss of hearing) and would love to continue working as a “nanny”, but what do I have to offer, other than 3 adorable kids? 
Husband has told me there’a a price to pay to keep mama sane, and it’s worth it. But we only need my part-time sanity. 
So, until we find the part-time relief, it’s just me and the children during the day. We’ve started to develop rhythm and pattern, and as I said on FB, the kids are more full of sunshine if I get up earlier and get some coffee in my system first. At this rate of progression, perhaps I’ll even brave the grocery store with all 3 by the end of the year. 
Or I’ll just send them with the nanny. 

wheels on the bus

Miss M is currently in that stage where she loves to please us. When we provide instructions and she carries them out to perfection, she revels in the attention and nearly begs for a new challenge to commence. It’s a beautiful stage. I’m shopping online for big girl panties so we can fully capitalize. 

H Boy has clearly moved out of that stage. 
Yesterday the near-meltdown came when he wanted to take the little tires off of his magic school bus. Husband asked him not to as we would likely only be able to find 2, or at the most, 3 of the tires within 10 minutes. But hell hath no fury in comparison to a two-year-old bent on a mission. 
This came after an episode involving a breakfast fiasco. It was 9:30am and we were on power struggle number 3. Have I mentioned how much I love parenting? How convenient it is? 
But Husband and I had to ask the questions of ourselves, seeing as how H’s existential capabilities are few and far between, about our role in the struggle. Just because we can use proper English grammar does not make us the automatic winners of the struggles. 
The conclusion we came to was… did it matter if we lost the bus tires? Will his childhood be wrecked if he were to own a toy with less than perfect resale value? We decided that the opportunity to learn how fake tires go on and off the bus was probably of more value than trying to a) fight it out and b) convince him the bus was a great toy as-is. Because, really, it’s just a bus. Aside from the removable tires there’s little flash nor flair. 
I say this like some sort of parenting professional, but it’s really really hard for me to live this conclusion. To just make the mess, to give up on keeping things tidy, to lose the tire, to risk breaking the X, Y or Z. In all honesty, it’s much easier to have robotic children that listen to your every command, but robots lack something in the creativity category. Come later in life, robots are really only good at taking orders, they’ll just switch masters. While I can sit back and say that I don’t want to raise robots for someone else to order around, in the same breath from the other side of my mouth I say I want children who listen and mind their parents. 
Clearly I’ve read too many parenting articles and books. I want my children to question authority until I am that authority. I want my children to be creative and innovative and live outside the box. Until coloring outside the lines looks too messy on my refrigerator. I want to value the arts until I can’t stand the squeal coming from the school-issued recorder or saxophone or, heaven forbid, DRUMS. Or the glitter. Can I value the arts and hate glitter? 
I understand that this stage of life is less about the kids and more about how I respond. I can see the world through the eyes of an uptight 30-year-old or I can enjoy the privilege of seeing as a two-nearly-three-year-old, colored by the opportunities for adventure and exploration. This might be the only way to truly find out life’s big questions: how many ways can you play with a piece of string? What does melted crayon taste like? Which is the best medium for drawing a landscape: ketchup or ranch? If I didn’t have a curious kiddo, I might never know. So rather than preventing such wisdom from escaping in the world, I need to read up on just how to endure these explorations without loosing my mind, or my carpet (who puts in WHITE carpet?!). Or perhaps I should just start saving for new hardwoods… 
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