Parenting sucks giant ostrich eggs...

As my 2 year old would say..."Now what?"
If only she knew what terror those words strike in my heart!  It is a bad day for me to write, or maybe one of the better ones.
My oldest two kids will be home in about an hour...talk about striking fear...

Really, I love my kids, honestly, I do.  But...what have I gotten myself into?  It is a dark place of parenting right now.  Tantrums, whining, fighting, kicking, hitting...I had to carry my 7 year old son onto the bus yesterday morning.  Literally, kicking and screaming...ugh.  Maybe not so much screaming as grunting as he head butts me under the chin "let go of me," because, yes, I sat on the bus seat with my arms wrapped around my sweet boy in a vice hug of ultimate parental humiliation.  Ok, that part wasn't as bad as stepping off the bus to the surprise of the other parents at the next stop.

Seriously, we have become "that family" with the cancelling of get togethers, no playdates, no friends over for dinner.  The paranoia sets in with the imagined (or not) whispers of "her kid is out of control, can't she do something?" I can barely enjoy an hour or two out as the Au Pair watches the kids for bedtime.  After several attempts at having friends with kids over for dinner or just a visit, and the constant threat of a Nuclear Meltdown amidst the constant bickering, fighting, and tattling of my sweet littles, we have drawn a line in the sand.  Nothing, nobody happens until Halloween.  And y,es, I have considered cancelling Halloween...fortunately, we are not there yet.

Yes, I know, poor you with the extra help...blah, blah, blah...however, this not the place I expected to be in when my oldest are 7 and 5.  I am probably overly concerned, however, at least I am concerned.  Every time I think I have failed as a parent I can at least remember that.  I care, so much in fact that it might be my fatal parental flaw.  That I wring my hands and search for better answers, try new things, actually talk about the problems and out myself as the deeply flawed parent I am, these are at least attempts at resolution, however unsuccessful they may be right now.

My challenge.  My first, my complex, cerebral, sweet boy...I love you, you make we want to be a better mom. As I watch how your behavior modeling trickles down to your younger sisters' behavior,  how I dread the teenage years...
Time to get shit together, fill up the parenting tool box, buck up, sit tight, hold on for dear life, and perhaps...even pray...that the road ahead, bumpy as it may be,
(as a dear friend pointed out to me today)
will be okay.  It will all be OK, it just needs a little more than duct tape...

So if you are one of the many friends who has gotten the, "sorry, we are not available until November" message, it is not you, it is us.  We must get the house in order, and then perhaps visiting with us will be enjoyable once again.

Until next time...

Good to be back....

I keep meaning to just sit and write.  Seriously, I do...  Let's just say that I am just as lazy, and just as big of a procrastinator as I always have been.  Good to know some things never change.  I need to do this during the day.  I used to do it late at night, but now my nights are for sleeping.  I am officially old.  I am literally in bed, asleep by 930pm almost every night.  Tonight being the exception to that rule..call it the joys of responsible parenting, or the "I get no respect" problem, or the "welcome back to your life where you are the teacher in Charlie Brown" syndrome.  Ugh, sometimes life is easier with your eyes closed...
The last few months have been incredible!  I have really gotten back into the "swing" of my life.  Running around, dropping kids here and there, getting to the gym, going to the market, doing laundry, cleaning up, etc.  Camp has begun, schedules are getting hectic, carpooling, working in the nap for the little one, and, yes...I still have help.  Aura is with us and a huge help with balancing what I need to get done with what I want to get done.
I  am sometimes able to get to the gym 5 times a week.  And let me tell you, the 35 pounds I have put on since the stroke are not coming off any other way!  I am half way to my goal weight, and have discovered the joy (and pain) of kickboxing!  Great workout!  I have also discovered the pain of being almost 40...lower back has gone out twice in the last month...OLD.  Am having problems with fatigue, and wondering how much is stroke recovery or vacation recovery, how much is working out/not working out, how much is eyes, and how much is just plain "I don't want to."  Not that I tend to overthink things...in the least bit.
It has been almost 9 months since my stroke, and wow, how different things are.  I go to a stroke survivor group once a month and together with my fellow survivors and our caregivers I learn to move forward every day and push myself to strive for goals that for me are my "Mt. Everest" to climb, but for most people are taken for granted.
One of our members put on a presentation last session that was so strikingly well done, I am back to blogging!  But seriously, this is a man who was in the prime of his life, had a great career, family, goals, plans, and got hit with a devastating stroke.  He he had to learn to do the basics that I was fortunate enough to have intact...walking, talking, etc.  He had to start all over again with learning the same things I am teaching my children to do now: tying shoes, math, reading, spelling, everything. 
Talk about putting your problems in perspective.   And yet, all problems are relative.  How much respect are you really going to get after coming back from something like this?  Sure, the first few months are the "amazing recovery" and the continual support, but then...life happens again, and you are back to the place you were before the rug got ripped out from under you.  You can be the "bad cop" parent again, and the feelings of self-doubt about your role as a parent when you feel you are totally on your own in some things come back full-force and the stroke was just something that happened...a long time ago...and finally plays no part in the day to day humdrum of life.  At least in your eyes...
Until next time...

My new normal...continued

Of all the comments and questions I have gotten in the past few months, the one I have spent the most time thinking about is "didn't this just piss you off?" Well, yes, more than most people know. Having a stroke, dealing with the physical problems it left behind, and trying desperately to "insert myself back into my life" is totally off-putting...to say the least. So, did this make me angry? You bet. However, if there is one thing I have learned it is that there are more important things to focus on than the anger. Acknowledge it, accept it, and move the hell on. I know too many people stuck in the anger part of recovery to think that it is a healthy place to be.

Here's the thing I don't spend a lot of time thinking about...I almost died. Do not pass GO, do not collect the watching of the children and my marriage grow, push up the daisies, become one with the universe...I could write a lot of other witty euphamisms for this fact, but again, I would be dodging the true impact of the statement. A little more bleeding, a millimeter left or right and BLAMO--death or coma. I did not need the MRI to show me what could've been, although, that did make quite an impact.

What made the biggest impact, you ask? I make assumptions that you ask this.

I DIDN'T die!

Yes, my eyes lived in their own little world of a bad acid trip (again, assumptions), and I have had to work very hard to exercise and train them to make them go where I want them to, and when. They are slow, and seeing in general does not come naturally to me anymore. It has just become something I have to work at. I have to make them look, focus, track, and search. It is a conscious activity now, not something I take for granted anymore.

The double vision, well, that is another story...that sucks! I am now playing the "waiting game." Basically, my vision situation is this...the images from each of my eyes do not match up. One image is straight up and down (left eye) and the other is twisted a little (right eye). How do we fix it? That is the kicker. Scotch tape for now. The tape is so that only one image comes to me at a time. I switch the tape between the right and left lenses of my glasses so that both eyes are still being stimulated and working. Wouldn't want one to get lazy and stop working...at least not yet. The twist is caused by an eye muscle that is paralyzed, kind of like the stroke survivors you have seen with a paralysis of the limbs, my paralysis is on the inside. Leave it to me to find the most obscure deficit. There are competing ideas as to what the real problem is eyes/brain/both. So, the simple answer is that we don't know. We just wait and see what the rest of the healing process will produce. The good news is that I can get my two images to overlap, but not fuse togethere to make one image. Imaging trying to fit a puzzle piece in, but you have the piece turned counter-clockwise just enough not to fit into the space.

Welcome to my world. Maybe I should by stock in 3M or whoever makes the kind of tape I'm using.

Until next time...

My new normal

So at least I am just as consistent with my blog writing as I always was with my journal/diary keeping when I was a kid...

It has been a while, and it has been a ride.

But, as it is with the rest of my life, it is with the blog. It is time to get back to the world, to accept and embrace my "new normal" as transient as it may be. The past 4 months have been brutal, confusing, maddening, and in the grand scheme of things...totally unfair. I mean, seriously, who has a stroke at 37? According to the MRI, not many like mine make it out, so I have a ton to be thankful for. But really, a mid-brain hemorrage...for no apparent reason...awesome. (Enter sarcasm...)

But now, recovery has come to a point very close to where I was before the stroke, at least physically. My vision will never be the same, but I can now get my eyes (and brain) to work well enough together to do most of the things I did before. I can drive a little, run errands, watch my kids play sports and activities, clean, and participate in the everyday humdrum of my life without dealing with the world spinning like I'm on a Tilt-O-Whirl. Always hated that ride.

As my daughter Danielle points out... "You can do laundry!" Believe it or not, that was one of my first big accomplishments! It was one of the first things I did when I became able to not have to nap after every awake period, and when I could get my eyes to focus for more than a few moments. I sat on the floor and scanned for, found, folded, and stacked clean clothes for my family. It was awesome! Sounds silly, I know, but talk about taking the small things for granted! Never in my life have I been more aware of how much about my body and mind I took for granted, than after the stroke. For instance, catching a ball, or other small projectile coming my direction, not pretty to watch. Much like watching a drunk, I can SEE it coming just not great at gauging exactly where it is.

Bigger objects, no problem. Well, much prettier to watch anyway.

Writing about this whole experience is a work in progress. I plan to work backwards a little, focusing on the now, but I will start from the beginning...eventually.

Until next time...

Our children, ourselves...or are they?

When I became a mom, I said I would never be one of "those" moms. You know the kind that judge what other parents do, say, implement, ignore, condone, etc, and snicker and tsk and give the looks and whispers. I would not be one of them because my kids (of course) would never do anything to embarass me or make me the subject of discussion of "those" moms.

Well, phooey, we all do it. Moms, Dads, Grandparents, friends, we all judge other people and their actions everyday. And nowhere else does our sense of self get as overinflated, and our view of our own actions so obscured as when we see the children of other people doing or saying things that "our children would never do" and walk away secure in the knowledge that we are doing a much better job of parenting than "them." Until...our children do and say those things.

Enter, reality...

Kindergarten boys soccer game number 3...the other team tries to score and misses. My son, my angel, the fruit of my labor (well, not in the birthing sense), yells at the top of his lungs to the other boys..."LOSERS, you guys are losers!!" I missed the actual event, so the words may be off, but you get the idea. I came into the picture when other parents on our team went to my son and gave him pieces of their minds (to whom I am grateful for stepping in when so clearly a good sportsmanship infraction was committed). Many of those parents actually apologized to me for stepping in, clearly aware of how it might offend some parents who cannot take a criticism of their child in any circumstance. I was totally ok with the fact that those parents stepped in. It was necessary and I would have done the same. What I was not ok with was that the need for it was caused by my kid.

I know, I know, kids do and say those things, but it was like my parenting bubble was burst. My kid just totally humiliated me...ok, so I left out the part about the parents from the other team standing 3 feet from me and making all kinds of tsk, tsk, noises, and the "unbelievable" and "what, is this team going jerseylicious on us or what?"
Situation dealt with, coach (dad) took the team aside and gave the talk about good sportsmanship and what it means. Mom, fuming on the sideline...

Enter...soccer game #4...my son on the sideline waiting until the opposing team members came close and then threw grass at them, later making faces at the other team, shooting pretend finger guns at them, blah, blah, blah, etc... Again, missing the initial contact and having to get some of the story secondhand (the rest I saw for myself as I was a hawk the rest of the game) our teams other parents stepped in and let my son know that the behavior was inappropriate and so on. He turns and looks at me. Not knowing exactly what transpired, but judging from the gasps and "aww, now, that's not ok" from the other parents that I needed to say something, I looked him in the eye and said "really disappointing, really disappointing," hoping to be vague yet stern enough to get through until I got the whole story. I let coach know he needed to address the same issues again, and then fumed on the sideline...again.

Now, I know, these infractions are small, not very mean, not bullying or other really seriously concerning behaviors. What bothers me most is how bothered I was by them. Yes, boys will be boys, and the yes, competition is hard for 5 year olds to learn to handle, but where do you draw the line? Is it enough to model good sportsmanship, or do I need to do something more and yes, I am probably overreacting...but what I really wonder is why? Why did my child's behavior affect me so much?

Which finally brings me back to this initial intention of this post...our children being a reflection of ourselves. Of course there is personal bullying and overall meanspirited treatment baggage in my suitcases (being the recipient of behaviors such as these in my time), and the last thing I want is my son to be that person. As a mom, I know I am judged on the actions of my kids. It is the nature of human parents, for better or worse. That is why. I don't want to be the "talk" of some other parents (negatively anyway). I want the "wow, what a great mom" or the "she's doing a great job." I want my kids to be a reflection of the best parts of me, not to be the recipient of the tsk, tsking, or disapproving looks. Yes, I am guilty of wanting to deliver or thinking some of the same, but I am at least wise enough to check myself and keep those feelings or thoughts to myself when I feel or think them!

Well, ok, so I have been known to dish the dirt and have mommy judging moments, but only to make myself feel like a better parent. Never to actually hurt someone's feelings. I guess it's like the tree falling in the forest thing...if no one is around to hear it...like I said, we all do it.

Oh, boy...hello self-examination and the realization that the opinions of others about me still makes or breaks my self-esteem. Told you this blog was cheaper than therapy!!!

So what is important in the end? That my son is an angel, a typical 5 year old boy who I want to play sports, have fun, compete, and yes, try to win (even though there is no score keeping in his age group). But most important, I want him to be the better player. The one who tries his best, helps and encourages his teammates, and is both a gracious winner and loser. I think those things can be accomplished, and should be, without the name calling, grass throwing, yuckiness that I have seen the last couple of games. This translates to a life lesson for me. I want my kid to be the better person, not the one that people are having to talk to, or about. We all judge, but maybe a little more objective observation, and a lot more humility are the keys to avoiding the scorn of "those moms" and negativity later in life.

Or maybe...this is the female version of unsportsmanlike conduct, and is necessary for the game. Maybe there is a reason we all do it...HA! Perhaps I'm not the only one with self-esteem issues. It might be what makes the world go round!!

Is it so bad to want to be liked and approved of? Who knows, and is anyone keeping score anyway....? Oh, yeah...we all are.

Until next time....

Late nights with Me, Myself, and I.

Ok, so it's 11 o'clock and I am sitting at an Applebee's having a drink. Why? For one thing, here in the Portland Metro nothing is open past 10pm on a Monday night except maybe the dive bars that I am just not ready to go to now that I am a mom of 3 and married! For another, I have found a secret getaway...the kids go down and I go out. Sometimes a movie, sometimes just aimless wandering or driving listening to the radio as loud as I want not worrying about whether my kids will ask what song is playing or what it is about (FYI-"Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC is about dancing...that's what they were doing all night long, at least that is what I've explained to my 5 year old)!
Here's the catch...late nights mean less sleep, but when your a 3 month old doesn't usually wake up until 5 or 6 am after going to bed at 8pm, it is almost always worth it! I figure I am evening the score and getting as much sleep as I did with the other 2 kids!
The problem is that there is really not much to do. Coffee places are closed, nice restaurants or wine bars are closed, and really it is a movie or just aimless wandering...or blogging, thanks to my "crackberry"!
I've done the movie thing, and in most cases, if I get out by 9pm it is not an extremely late evening, but other times getting to bed at 2am and then waking to baby grunts of hunger 4 hours later...not pleasant!
My million dollar business idea...a place for moms to go that has late evening fun, coffee (decaf of course), wine, movies, and wireless access!
Anyone game?! Hello? Oh, right...everyone is at home, in bed, asleep.
Oh well, I guess there is always that!
Until next time...

"What we have here...is a failure to communicate." And the results of...

Couples' therapy 101...communicate, communicate, communicate. Now, chalk it up to being married almost 7--I know, I know, only 7, but at least I recognize that--years, actual progress due to previous therapy sessions, or just dumb luck, but we handled this one like pros! Yes, on our after dinner walk with the family tonight, it dawned on us that we have been going about this bedtime routine with 3 kids all wrong...

Not that anything was "wrong" per se, just unevenly distributed. Here's how it was with 2 kids: Me to Josh (or vice versa), "Do I have (child unnamed) tonight, or do you?" Josh to me (again, or vice versa) with a smirk, "You do." And believe me, this WAS evenly distributed between both children. Some nights with one were good, others...not so good. But they changed like the ocean tides, and we were both evenly rewarded and tortured as the nightly switch-off proceeded.

Here's how it is with 3 kids: (on a weeknight) bedtime approaches...Josh's voice to the older two "5 more minutes, then it's time to go upstairs and get ready for bed." My voice to Brookie "Come on, Munch, finish your bottle, then time for bed." One night per weekend, Josh takes Brookie, giving me time with the two and him with the baby. A status quo...but...

Let me make clear that this was an unspoken agreement. Neither one said a word to the other. No disgruntled smack talk, no jibes about fairness or equality, nothing. We accepted this world as reality and the "right" way. Why? Well, I suppose it was because we just accepted that whoever put the baby down would be doing the feeding during the night or early morning as the case became, or that it would be most helpful for mama to only have the baby to deal with. But why did we not separate bedtime and feeding? Previous attempts at breastfeeding, I guess, although, that was short lived. The "natural order" of things? Maybe, but the truth is...we just didn't think about it or if we did, we didn't communicate it to each other. We each just thought this was the most "helpful" way to get through this part of our life.

Ha! So, a moment of clarity as we were walking...I say to Josh, my skin crawling at the thought of the next couple of hours having to be touched by anything besides a BIG glass of wine, "I could put those two down tonight, if you want." Being a weeknight, he looks at me, almost like a child being offered the biggest lollipop in the store, "Really?" Making a comment about his shortness or frustration with them over the last few nights, he says "I could do with some switching off. That could work." What idiots we were!! Duh, where does it say in the parenting handbook....?

Oh, yeah, there is none!

The only thing I was conscious of thinking before tonight was "why would he not want to do Brookie at night?" She is the easiest of the 3 right now. He thought he was helping. I also thought it would be easier for us with his help of taking the two. Until our veneers started to crack and he was frustrated with dealing with two and their bedtime antics, and I was frustrated with being the one doing the evening feedings and constant touching and holding and having to be touched or having a tiny little hotbox on me and with me all evening. We both thought things were as they "should" be. After the "A ha" moment, we discussed it, laughed about it, figured it out...and from this...the new and improved nighttime switch-off has begun!

Lessons learned. Sometimes the only way through marriage and kids is to go through them. The whole "he/she should know what I am thinking after being my spouse for so long" train of thought...BUNK! Bottled up resentment and anger...BULLSH@&! And, as for the "I have the hardest job of the two of us," really, it gets you nowhere.

Marriage advice...CAVEAT WARNING...I am only offering as someone who is married (no actual training or schooling involved) and as someone has had the good fortune of meeting some really awesome people and parenting experts, and having an awesome hubby, try to put into words all those little (well, ok, maybe not all) voices in your head and "talk it through." I used to hate that phrase, but honey, I get it now. I can say with such love and respect that we have made it! Two years ago, this episode would have been full of resentment, and accusations, and anger, you name it! But you really do grow as a couple...if you communicate.

Score: psychobabble (1), married people (0)! Love to you, babe, our marriage and our 3 wonderful children!