Two apples

Getting out of the house on a Monday morning is no small feat.  Addie left mad at the world because I somehow lost her jog-a-thon envelope that I have never even seen.  Bryson wanted me to read him a lego magazine comic, but of course I didn't have time for that, so he slinked away and said, "That's okay, I'll just look at the pictures for now".  I let him watch Curious George to ease the guilt, just a little.  I could have had time, I thought, if I didn't need to eat, and wipe the counters, and make some coffee.  All in all, we got out of the house by 8:15 after I ransacked three cupboards through piles of papers tucked away during house showing with no sign of that damn jog-a-thon envelope and got Bryson to school by 8:25.  Beds made, laundry in hampers, cushions smoothed, hair cleaned off bathroom surfaces, sinks cleaned, toilets doubled checked for flushing, all just in case someone wants to look at our house to maybe buy it today. 

I got to school and Bryson's teacher asked me if we brought in two apples.  We did not.  Nor was it on my radar.  I asked her if I could bring them in on Wednesdays, she said that by Wednesday they'd be made into applesauce, today was for cutting them up and tasting.  She said I could bring them in after school when I picked him up.  But after school he goes to daycare, and I get home at 6pm at the earliest.  I left and thought about how I could get those apples to her after school.  Call our nanny, call another mom from the class? I ransacked my brain, trying to think if I knew about this at some point or not.  I could imagine a cartoony calendar, one from a month ago. Where was that thing now?  How could I let this happen.  I beat myself up most of the way home to get the apples. 

It's not the end of the world, you know.  

My friend is mourning the loss of her father
My friend is watching three of her kids thrive in health, and one in multiple therapies to regain mobility
My friend is worried that her marriage is hopeless
My friend is trying to understand her son's debilitating anxiety.
My friend is a newly single mother, worried that she cannot do it alone
My friend is pushing through the pain of her foster children.
My friend was in a car accident
My friend is worried about her mom's chemo treatments
My friend is struggling as she watches her daughter not recover well from surgery

I forgot the apples.
I had time to go home and get some and drop them off.
I still got to work on time.
I emailed the jog-a-thon team, new form will go home tomorrow.  
What is my problem then? 

My life with it's little blips each day is okay.  It's better than okay.  Today, I don't have any of those worries that I listed above and people I love have those, and that is a blessing.  Bigger than a blessing.  My day will come with some life shattering worries, I'm sure of it, but today was not that day, and if I pretend that it is, then I am a liar and a thief of my own time and joy.  

I will not let the liar into my head who tells me I am a failure because I forgot to bring some fruit to preschool.  Or that a mad kid over a lost fundraiser form determines my worth.  That my struggles are big or real, in the way that they have the power to take away my victories.  I will not let two bad apples rot away the tree full of good apples.  

I have to proactively work at this thinking.  We all do.  For some reason, it doesn't come naturally, not unless you practice it.  To wake up each day and remember to listen for the Voice of Truth over the lies of the busy and condescending world.  Each day starts anew, you have to remember again and again and again, until you are weary wondering how many times you have to learn the same lesson.  But then, there isn't a better feeling than feeling perceived failure pushing you down, sinking lower…only to remember the brightness of the good truth, and to feel your heart raising up, the fog lifting, the truth about who you are and what matters carrying you high.  

So today started with a feeling of defeat, but then, then I remembered.  

And now my heart soars with gratitude.  

Mean girls

This has been a really rough week for me.  I know I haven't blogged for a while.  It may feel like I'm talking from the middle, and that's okay, this if for me.  

Much of this week, in those few precious hours I have with my kids before work and before I tuck them in for bed, the kids, the girls especially, have been…mean...to me.  Mean because they over slept, mean because I hurried them to get their shoes on, mean because one sibling took up time that they wanted from me, mean because I said no to another piece of chocolate, mean because I asked them to stop being mean.  

I'm worn.  I feel particularly disheartened because maybe for the first time, I feel like can't reason with them, like they don't care.  They've always cared before.  

These big-hearted loves of mine, they are growing up, and I race ahead wondering what will ever happen to me and my tender heart when they are teenagers.  When their mean is not because they don't want to go to bed, or in an argument over movie night, but it is meanness over stuff that matters and stuff that lasts?  

Am I screwing it all up?  Today I looked at Addie as she screamed at me in anger.  I think it was an emotional issue not a discipline issue.  I did discipline, but it didn't feel right.  I was calm on the outside but raging inside, I had to fight hard for the calm.  Her yelling and raging lasted for so long, I kind of fell apart on the inside, while I told her I loved her and I would help her with whatever it was that was upsetting if she just stopped screaming at me.  Eventually she did, and while she had a nice evening, I couldn't help but wonder if I did it all wrong, letting her have movie night anyway, and sleep in the playroom with her sister.  Finally at bedtime, while getting the playroom sleepover setup, when Addie was sweet and kind and loving, Lily was short and rude and exasperated with me for the third night in a row, mad that I was setting up the bedding wrong.  She sighs heavily and cliches the muscles in her neck and shoulders and shakes looking at me with big eyes like she just can't take me and my annoying blanket folding ideas for one more moment.  While I prayed with her for the first night in 3, I cried because we are hurting each other and we don't know why and we aren't even really sure how to stop.  

Lily cried too.  

Much better at expressing herself than her sister who just whimpers and whines, Lily said that she has felt like she wanted to mean lately and she doesn't know why.  She admitted that it's not just me, she really has been acting mean, and she wants to stop.  She will try to do better tomorrow.  

So will I.  

Tonight though, I sit here sad, and exhausted, emotionally very tired.  And yet ever hopeful and thankful that tomorrow is a new day, that I can live in that day, not race ahead to borrow worries of a day ahead that could be harder than this.  

It's been crazy...

I think about this blog 2-3 times a week.  I haven't blogged since school started and it's Christmas break, and just because I don't write them down…I still think them up.  Then they are gone and it makes me sad that I don't find/make/have the time.  

I hear myself say to my friends, to the ones who work, to the ones who don't, heck, I even say it to myself.  "This has been a crazy week!"  This week school started.  This week soccer started.  This week Bryson started preschool.  This week is my first week without a nanny in 6 years.  This week we have the warrior dash.  This week I'm getting ready to go on vacation.  This week I'm recovering from vacation.  This week is quarterly close.  This week is Lily's slumber party.  This week I'm volunteering at school.  This week I'm recovering from being gone volunteering at school.  This week I'm in charge of mapping our old 401(k) plan to our new 401(k) plan, balance by balance, fund by fund, ticker symbol by ticker symbol.  This week I have school conferences. This week is Halloween.  This week I go to Seattle for Women of Faith.  This week is my birthday.  This week the sister of my best childhood fried died.  This week the kids have 3 days off school.  This week is family pictures rescheduled  and I need to pick out outfits, and convince my family that we are taking family pictures and they better enjoy it, or at least look like they are enjoying it.  This week I have auditors.  This week I was so very thankful for this life.  This week I need to find a costume for TV Bunco.  This week we get to watch the Griz / Cat game.  This week is Thanksgiving.  This week my co-worker and one of my staff are out.  This week is my week to volunteer at school.  This week I was sick all week.  This week I was sick again.  This week Lily had a science fair.  This week my baby boy turns 4.  

Those have been my weeks for the past 3+ months.  

It's been crazy.  

Every single week, every single day, life is crazy.  And I hate hearing myself even say that.  I think I might have been saying it for the past, oh, 5 years, maybe longer.  

I am forever living in a state of apology and I hate it.  I'm also living and looking for an escape.  Like if I could just get through this one hard time life would be easy again.  Life would be balanced and I would be able to catch all the balls in the air.  

ha.  HA!

I've been putting a pen to paper and recording the things I am thankful for.  What started with picking up a book that was recommended to me and with 30 days of Facebook thanks, it's changing for my heart.  

Be where you are.  That was the motto for this year, and I have not been very successful.  I can't shut down the endless ways that the crazy in my life.  

And this has been a relatively uneventful year.  

I'm sorry, and I'm grateful, and I'm tired, and I stay up too late, and I go on FaceBook to often, and I'm constantly striving, and I beat myself up far too often, and I'm a grumpy distracted mom, and I'm thankful, and I'm so very love, and I talk to God and He reminds me that I am covered under Grace, that nothing I could do could make him love me any more or less than He already does.  And all is well again in the world.  

And then the next hour starts.  

And it's crazy again.  

And I remind myself that life is full.  

Abundantly full.  

Now I hit post rather than go back and edit myself.  Raw, true, honest.  Recorded.  

To see what I have missed

Today was a bittersweet day.  Our nanny had a death in the family and she needed to miss work today, so I got a surprise impromptu SAHM day.  For those of you out of the know in the so called "mommy wars", that stands for Stay at Home Mom.  


And I got to be one today, unexpectedly, and it was awesome.  Because it was not calendared as a day off with my kids, I didn't have any "plans".  No doctors or dentist or physical therapy appointments squeezed in, no grocery shopping or big chores to tackle.  Just step in and have the role of taking care of my children.  It's sad to admit how often I don't get to do that.  I spend a lot of time with them.  My working from home days, the weekends, vacation days, all the aforementioned appointments, I wake up with them, and go to sleep with them, I volunteer at school, and take them each on as many special outings as I can possibly squeeze in.  It's not exactly time that I'm missing, even though there is a fair amount of time I am at work.  It's something else.    


It was Lily's last day of first grade.  So first we took obligatory pictures.  Addie and Bryson even walked her to the bus with me since it was the last time this year.  Lily asked Addie to go, Bryson will always jump at the chance, but Addie usually rather hang back in the warm house with no shoes on and watch from the window.  To my surprise, she humored her sister and came along.  Addie has the best hair in the morning.  

Lily - last day of 1st grade - 4 baby teeth replace by bigs, a shoe size larger, and 3 inches taller

Lily's last day of first grade

Lily Addie Bryson (note to self- he'll sit if you don't put shoes on him when the ground is cold), Lily's last day of first grade.  

And for comparison's sake (because I must), here is the first day of First Grade: 

Lily first day of first grade 

Lily Addie Bryson - Lily first day of first grade

Lily's first day of first grade

The day today was just so great.  I finished my company's audit yesterday.  5 months of hard work was finished, my burden there was lifted.  So when Nanny asked for today off, it was a no brainer.    I was happy to have today with the kids.  Giddy actually.  It was the kind of day that, while I did check my work email on my phone to keep me off the computer, I didn't have to worry that there would be a pressing issue to address.  My boss is in Japan, my staff is competent.  I knew that there was not one thing that couldn't wait until tomorrow.  So I just got to be with kids.  I did go to the grocery store with them, at our leisure, I did get the dishes done and the house picked up, I did sit outside in the sun and watch them play for a few hours, I did pick Lily up from her last day of first grade, I did go through her school binder and decide what to save and what to toss, and I did turn the guest bedroom into a scrapbook room vs a homework room for the summer-together with Lily.  I did get to snap this picture with Lily and her teacher on their last day of school. 

Lily with Mrs M on the last day of First Grade - We LOVE you Mrs. M!!

There were so many parents there, you would have thought it was the first day of school.  We had to park blocks from the school.  I didn't have to worry about a stroller for Bryson, because we had all the time we needed, no rush, just walk at his pace all those blocks to the school.  Some moms had flowers, flowers, for their first graders last day of school.  Wow.  Flowers!  I was happy to just be there, but my hands were empty.  Or full, rather, of Addie and Bryson's hands.  I looked around at all the moms who were there, and I felt proud to be there, standing among them.  I couldn't help but look at all the moms who planned to be there, who knew they'd be there all week, who were not there due to a sad circumstance in their child care provider's life.  I was there, it shouldn't matter.  But it did a little.  It's just hard for me not to want that life.  


Today was a blessing, a wonderful amazing blessing.  Not because they didn't fight, and tattle, and make messes, and throw tantrums and get time outs.  Not because I never lost my patience repeatedly telling them to stay in or out of the hard to push car shaped shopping cart, not to climb in and out over and over and teach your little brother to do the same.  Not because I got a moment of time to myself.  Not because I didn't try to accomplish some organizing and other general cleaning, as they messed it up faster than I could beautify it.  Not because I'm not dead tired right now.  All of those things happened.  I don't pretend to think this life is easy or restful.  But I got to be there for it in a very relaxed, I have nothing else I need to be doing, this is my only job sort of way.  I never get that.  Not on vacation, not on the weekends.  This is not my only job.  It's hard to admit, because I'm afraid that mothers who read this and stay at home as their job, might pity me, or pity my kids, or think I'm less of a mother.  Maybe it's saying out loud that sometimes I think I'm less of a mother.    Especially today, when I see all the little things I miss.  While I'm living on the scraps of motherhood.


And the truth is, if they did, oh well.  I know I'm where I have to be right now.  I know that Lawrence and I have made the choice for our family that works.  We work together to make this work in a way that works for us.  We have an amazing young woman who fills in the gaps and takes care of our kids with incredible love and intention.  Maybe someday things will change, maybe they won't.  I pray that if it is God's will for me to have a different role in this family, that He will open doors for us to make that happen.  But as things stand right now, I am grateful, we are grateful.  Grateful for my late mornings and Lawrence's early ones, giving way to his early afternoons, which allows for home cooked meals and coaching opportunities and early bedtimes and lots of rest.  Grateful to have a daddy for my children that takes on his three blessings without wincing at how much work it will be.  Grateful for my work from home days that allow for even later mornings and volunteering in the class room during a lunch hour here and there and no commute time and putting kids down for naps and having lunch together.  


But a day like today leaves me aching for another full day with them, and another.  It's like I said, I get to see what I am missing.  And, even full of gratitude, when I'm completely honest with myself I do miss it.  I know staying at home with small children is not easy, but I hope that all the mamas who are living that life, enjoy the days that are given to them.  Because if I got to redo any day over and over again, it would be one like today.  


Today was a bittersweet day.  I can't believe some mothers get to wake up and be this kind of mother every day.  I hope they are able to see that amazing blessing for themselves.  Every day.  Even though I don't get to do today again tomorrow.  I did it well, today, and it gives me refocusing perspective that I needed after a season of hard.  I have a lifetime of good ahead of me.  

You are only as happy as your unhappiest child

You know how it sucks when you look forward to something for months and months, then the night comes and it is really great but you do something stupid at the end that screws a little part of it up, but that small something ruins the whole night for you and you are so mad at yourself? Well that happened to my Lily tonight and I'm just laying awake hurting for her. Heart outside of my body...indeed.

**********

Last night was Lily's 1st grade program.  She has been talking about since January.  April 19, mom, make sure it is on the calendar, make sure you can get home from work on time, make sure my camera has batteries, make sure and get a video, when can we decide what I'm going to wear, can we practice my line, here is where I will be standing, here is how the risers are arranged.  She's talked about every single detail of how the night would go.  I even know where to find her in line, and how far in her own speaking part would be.  Her siblings have been singing the songs for weeks.  

She was a little disappointed that our nanny had a test in class that night and wouldn't be able to make it.  I invited my brother and his girlfriend, but didn't tell her they were coming (because I hadn't heard for sure that they were and I didn't want her to be disappointed if they couldn't make it).  

I left work at 4, got home around 5, and we went upstairs to do homework.  She was so giddy and excited that she couldn't concentrate on learning her spelling words.  I found myself being shorter with her than I wanted to be, but something that could have taken 15 minutes took 45, and the rest of the family was waiting downstairs for us to eat.  She didn't feel like learning spelling words, and I wanted her to have a better attitude about it rather than saying, I'll never learn that word with a sourpuss face.  She did learn the three she was having a hard time with: instead, said, and thought.  (Side note: I just spelled thought wrong the first go round of typing it. :)  )  Anyway, she finally finished and went in the bathroom for me to do her hair (which was in curlers) but I told her we needed to eat, and we'd have to do hair after.  

We ate, she dawdled.  I was annoyed.  When she was the last person finished at the table (typical), and was pittering around watching what Bryson and Addie were up to, I told her she needed to hurry, we needed to get upstairs to get dressed and do hair.  She obliged but we quickly realized that the dress and sweater we laid out (last night so it would be easy peasy no decision making tonight) was size 2T, it was Addie's - and her pink sweater was nowhere in sight.  We looked and looked and finally she said she could chose a different dress (the one laid out was super summery and it was raining and 50 degrees outside) because we really only had one sweater that could match.  After much back and forth, she finally chose the dress that she wore in our family pics, but she was mad. (Note to self: must get Lily more sweaters less hoodies, why oh why do I not have a white or black sweater for that girl?!)

Her hair didn't come out great, but at this point we were kind of rushed, and I was disappointed (with myself mostly) that the dress thing took so long, when I did everything I could to make sure THAT EXACT THING WOULDN'T HAPPEN.  Overdramatic? Maybe but I was certainly feeling like no matter what I do, how much I plan ahead, it is never enough to make life run smoothly.  Ha, life run smoothly...good one, Jenny.  

Anyway, I packed up a purse full of crap to keep Bryson busy during the program while the rest of the family honked at me from the car (I joke about the honking, but that's how frantic I was feeling while loading up the bag o tricks).  As I got in the car and thought about the teenage years.  Man, they are going to be hard.  I said so to Lawrence who obviously has no knowledge of the things teenage girls care about because he rolled his eyes and said I shouldn't rush us ahead.  I thought about how much harder it will be when it's not just a missing matching sweater, but it's my sister took my sweater, it's caring about fashion, what's in style, and worrying about body shape, and acne, and hair, and, and, and....deep breaths, not a great start, but okay, we are in the car now, let's enjoy the show.  I wasn't pleased with how I'd handled the last 2 hrs of the evening, let's make the next two better.  

Matt and Heather did come, and the kids were all thrilled to see them, jumping around all crazy, like they always do.  Then it was time to get Lily to her class room and the show started.  It was wonderful, and cute, and sweet.  Lily did a good job.  She got to say the line "when I grow up I want to be an acrobat".  Which she does.  I got it all on video.  So did Addie on her camera.  Bryson was enthralled and behaved beautifully on Lawrence's lap.  He clapped and loved it when he could point out his "Loly".  All was awesome. 

After the show the kids were all over Matt and Heather again, especially Lily, and there was some talk of them coming over for a bit.  It was already 8pm, and ultimately, I didn't think it was a great idea.  They haven't seen Heather forever, and seriously the kids go CRAZY around Matt.  He's like the catnip to their cat.  He says he doesn't, but sometimes I wonder how he can think my kids are anything but monsters, they act so different and more wild around him than anyone else.  They cannot contain their excitement to be in his presence.  I told M&H that it probably wasn't the best for getting everyone to bed if they came, so we decided they would come to Lily's baseball game on Saturday and we would get together after that.

Lawrence told Lily to say goodbye to Heather and Matt and thank them for coming.  But instead she was jumping all over them, pulling on Matt's coat, acting terribly obnoxious.  Lawrence asked her what she should say to her uncle for coming, and she said nothing, then stuck her tongue out at them.  Grrr.  Lawr told her to get in the car, and I apologized, and we left.  On the way home we talked to Lily about how rude that was.  Doesn't she want Matt and Heather to come to her things?  Why would she treat someone she loves like that?  Lawr said maybe they shouldn't come to her baseball game, or even worse, maybe they wouldn't want to.  Not if she was going to treat them like that.  We were disappointed, but we didn't yell or scream at her.  We just shook our heads and got about the business of who would do what when we got home to get them all to bed before 9pm.  

No one talked the whole ride home.  Buzz kill.

After getting Bryson and Addie to bed, I went to Lily's bed.  She was reading a note from our nanny that was cut in the shape of a heart.  It said something about how sad she was to have missed the show and how she couldn't wait to hear all about the wonderful night and she knew she did awesome and she loved her.  Really sweet.  Lily hugged that little piece of cardboard all night long like it was a soft teddy bear, obviously a source of comfort for her.  

Lily was so destroyed.  She was mad at her self for how she treated Matt and Heather.  I listened to her talk for quite a while.  I told her it is okay to make mistakes, and tomorrow is a new day.  That made it worse.  She said tomorrow is not the day of her program.  She wanted to rewind today!  I asked her if we could think of some good things from the night and remember those before we go to sleep, but she said she couldn't remember anything good.  All she could think of was acting like that to Matt.  She said she was feeling really excited, but she never meant to be rude to him.  She kept asking herself why she did that.  Why would she ruin her own night.  She told me she'd looked forward to this night for so long, and now it was over and it was awful.  She was weeping and sobbing.  I told her to just let it out.  

It was one of the few times that her tears over something small made me cry too.  I could feel and taste her pain.  I wondered if we shouldn't have said something to her in the car about the way she acted toward Matt, I was feeling pretty guilty.  Were we too hard on her?  Did we make her too hard on her self?  Parenting isn't easy, and the truth is you do not allow your child to be rude to someone else without calling them out on it.  That's part of the job.  Lawrence suggested that she could call Matt, and she did, and whatever he said to her made her feel quite a bit better. She mostly cried and he mostly talked.  And at the end of the call she was crying less and I could see she was getting to a point of peace about it.  It just wasn't the feeling of elation and pride that I would have wanted her to have at the end of a night that she has been looking forward to for so long.  

I knew exactly what she meant and how she felt.

We talked about how she could show the video to our nanny after school today, and she could show her all the songs, teach her sister the movements.  She liked that.  Then we talked about her friend, who's baby brother Ethan is in the hospital right now for a virus.  I said we needed to pray for him to get better and for his mommy to be okay.  She said we should pray right now, so we did.  Then we talked about how our problems aren't the worst ones to have, and how we will be okay.  When I left her room, I thanked her for asking that we pray for Ethan right now, I told her sometimes we say we will pray and we forget, it's always better to pray right now.  I told her that I am so glad she has the heart she does.  She makes me proud.      

I laid in bed and hurt for her, rewinding and fast forwarding to things i could have done differently to protect her from the pain and anger she was feeling.  

I thought about how I wished she could just get over a mistake, a split second decision to not act in a kind way.  I wished I could tell her to get out of her own head, and know that everyone else understood, and no one was mad.  Then I thought about how that is not a quality I model for her.  At all.  

Today, I winced thinking about a conversation I had with a friend who gave me some very good, very constructive, very hard to hear advice, four years ago.  Four years later, I took the advice, I'm grateful for the advice, but I still am mad at myself for needing the advice in the first place.  If I'm honest, I don't think I have forgiven myself for that.  And in the grand scheme of things, it is a little thing, really.  

My good friend's mom posted the quote, "you are only as happy as your unhappiest child" on my facebook today.  I read it a few times, letting it sink in.  Man, we are just getting started.  This is going to be hard.  I want to get better about forgiving myself, and letting their little stuff slide too.  

As a mother and a woman, I am so self critical of myself.  It is so much easier to see what I'm not doing than what I am.  A great day, with the best planning, and wonderful intentions, can send me into a panic when the sweater I laid out says 2t rather than 6 on the tag.  I let the small "mistakes" cast a shadow over the successes.  I beat myself up.  I don't want to, but I do.  I'm not sure if I have any tools to stop.  I sure see the goodness in everyone else.  I celebrate everyone else, I use kind words, I let things slide, I tell them they are doing a really good job.  I mean it.  

Is that the message I want to send on to my daughters?  You should focus on your imperfections, rather than your amazingly wonderful qualities?  The answer to that question obviously is of course not.  

But when I tear myself down, criticize my body or my clothes, talk of the state of my house or my cars in disgust, list all of the things left to do and never the things done, say harsh words about the mistakes I make, expect perfection...I'm teaching her to treat herself that way.  

And that needs to change.  

I can't protect her from everything, and maybe this small lesson needed to be learned so that she can remember how important it is to treat people, especially those you love, with respect and kindness.  I hope that is true.  

The part that has my heart really aching is that she can't forgive herself yet.  And I know how bad that feels.  And she doesn't deserve to feel like that.  

No one does.  

Coulda, shoulda, woulda.  Sigh.  Forget it.  Let's be kind to ourselves today and let's remember the impact that will have on our sweet children.  Then let's try to do it again tomorrow.  And the next day.  Until self kindness is a habit that we pass down to them.  

What is one thing you can do today that will remind you of what you have done right, that screams to you, YOU ARE ENOUGH! Today, how can you let go of something you have done wrong?  How can you model that for your children?    

My 2012 motto is Do Not Let Perfect Be the Enemy of Good.  I can say it all I want, but until I start acting like good is good, I'm teaching the wrong things through my actions and my words don't matter one bit.  

The scraps of motherhood

Hold on friends, this is a long journey deep into my heart.  Maybe it will touch you, maybe it will not.  But I feel some peace writing it down, and I even documented a few of my precious moments, so I can get to crossing that off the list.  

Every mother wishes there were more of herself to go around, and every working mother, has, at one time or another wondered how come she only get the worst part of the day with their children, the scraps.  The scraps of motherhood.  


Before I get into this, I should start be saying we have a fabulous nanny.  She adores our kids and our kids can't get enough of her.  And I love her too.  She is sweet and smart and fun.  She acts like a kid but is responsible and careful.  She works really hard, and is conscientious to make sure we think she is doing a good job.  She is a good communicator, and it is so easy if I ever ask her to do something differently, she isn't defensive or argumentative.  She is exactly the way you would want your nanny to be.  What I'm about to say about the way I feel about my scraps says nothing about her, and to some extent I've felt this way since that first day in January of 2005 when I returned to work after maternity leave after having Lily.  I've been through daycare centers, preschools, nannies, au pairs...it isn't about the care.  When the care is wonderful, the kids like it, and I do want that, and more importantly I have it.    Just so we are clear.  


Bryson told me he liked our nanny better than he likes me yesterday.


And while it stings, this should not come as a huge shock to me.  I get him up from his bed in the morning, give him his milk with little cuddle time, while I race Lily around feeding & grooming her, to get her out the door for the bus by early:29am.  Then I come back in to do the same for Addie.  I race upstairs when the nanny arrives to throw myself together, to get out the door to take Addie to preschool 30 minutes after the bus just came for her sister.  Sometimes, between directing him not to grab, touch, or break things, I get Bryson a second cup of milk, some breakfast if he is ready, then give him a few hugs and kisses on the way out of the door.  If he lets me. Sometimes, I have to push him back in the door because he wants to come.  Sometimes he cries, and sometimes he says "I need you not doe bah-bye", but more often, he walks away, unaffected.  Rarely do I read him the book that he has been carrying around all morning pulling on my leg while I braid hair, asking me "Weed dis book, weed dis book, tom on mama!"  - Our nanny will do it, honey.  That's the fun stuff, and I haven't time for the fun stuff.  


These days, I [hopefully] get home in time to say hello, change him into a night time diaper and then put him to bed.  Sometimes there is a little time before that to break up a fight between he and Addie, bark at him to stop throwing food from his highchair once he is done eating, or feel frustrated when he puts his toothbrush exploratorily down the gross drain or side sink hole, resulting in wet sleeves and him wrestling me to the death to put on a dry pajama shirt.  Lawrence wonders why it takes me a half an hour or more to go through the bedtime routine with him, when it takes him less than 5 minutes to put him quietly to bed.  It's because after I get him into his sleep sack, with his monk-monk under his chin, we rock & I sing to him as he savors every drop of milk in his cup.  Then, like a wonderful heavy exhale, he turns into me, belly to belly and gets his head comfy on my shoulder, and we sing and we rock.  And I collapse in that moment.  Sometimes I start to sing, and stops me, he chooses a new song.  Sometimes he says "Let me sing it", and I do, and I hold his hand and rub his soft baby fat fingers, and I listen, hanging on the way he sings every word.  I'm in awe of his ability to sing the song, and I could listen to it for much longer than the half an hour it takes me to put him down.  The moment we finish one song, he says, "what we sing now?" almost as if he thinks that if a moment of silence passes, our time together for the day will be over.  I always sing last as I am laying him down, "I love you Bry-y-son, oh yes I do (he chimes in "I do!"), I love you Bry-y-son, and will be true (he again says "I do"), when your not near me, I'm blue (he sings that line with me), I love you Bryson, I love you.  Then we sing I love you mama, same song.  Then I sing Bryson again as I leave the room.  Lately he has been stalling and fighting that song.  In my guilt-ridden mind, I know it's because he knows it's the end.  That's it for today buddy, same deal tomorrow, okay?  


Then I head into the girls room.  It's between 7:30-8pm, and so far the time I've spent with them today, is what I've described above.  On a good day, they get up and get themselves dressed in the laid-out-clothes from the night before, they eat, I make coffee or go get babbling Bryson.  Then I gently bark orders about eating a bit faster, and getting shoes on, teeth brushed, hair fixed, coat on, backpack packed.  I try to have a meaningful conversation with Lily while waiting for the bus, especially when I don't have to bring the younger two out with me, because our nanny has arrived.  It has been cold and raining so we huddle together under the umbrella and talk about the day ahead.  The devastation and failure I feel when I realize I've forgotten her library book on library day, or to put her in gym shoes on gym day (yesterday=gym in snow boots), a hat on a cold day, or left her packed lunch on the counter, is highly over-exaggerated and dramatic.  In my mind, I know this, but in my heart it feels like putting a hat on my kid's head on a subzero day is the least I could do, and it is directly correlated to my poor planning or bad mothering skills.  My mind knows that is not true.  My heart does not.  


Also, on a good day, I take Addie to school, and we get that time to talk.  It's 15 minutes I treasure with her.  So when I haven't gone over the logistics with Lawrence to make sure there are enough car seats for me to take her and Nanny to pick her up, Nanny has to take her and pick her up, and I lose that time.  And it again feels like a failure.  But at least I don't have to rush to be out the door, and I can spend a few extra minutes in the shower, but more often than not, I feel too guilty to enjoy it.  


After I have put Bryson down in the evening, Lawrence is usually already done with the girls.  During that time, they have brushed their teeth and gone potty, and are waiting with the small lamp on for me to come.  Sometimes they are both on Lily's top bunk with her reading lamp on and Lily reads to her little sister while they wait.  I "rock-a-bye" and "rock-a-hmm hmm" them individually, and I pray with them individually.  I try to make sure that during my "Thank you God for this day" prayer, I am not going through the generic schpeel of being thankful, I want them to truly feel cherished, I want them to feel my thankfulness about being their mother.  I intentionally think of one thing that is specific to them that I am thankful for.  I do not want them to think that this is a going through the motions type of deal.  This is a time to hold on tight to our bear bears because we are glad God gave us a bear bear to love so much and give us comfort, and to be thankful that Lily has an empathetic heart, and that she figured out how to talk through a problem with a friend today.  Lily always wants me to make sure to pray that she has no bad thoughts or dreams when she sleeps, and I do.  I also usually pray that she can feel my love and God's love wrapped around her while she sleeps.  That the One who created her and the one who gave birth to her think she is perfect, just as she is.  No matter how many times outs or scoldings about hurrying up there were today.  Because it is true.  


The 2 days a week that I work from home, those are the days that save me.  On those days I usually start at 9-9:30 and am done at 5.  On occasion I eat lunch with the kiddos and hear about their day so far.  I put Addie down for her naps, when she still takes them.  I get to be involved in dinner making, or at the very least eating it with the family.  I get to sit with Bryson and read a book or 7 in the morning, even if I end up putting a hat on my unwashed hair and taking Addie to school in my unwashed jeans with my jammie shirt hiding under my zipped up coat.   I can take an hour or two a month and help out in Lily's classroom, or go to doctor appointments.  Despite my very stressful job, after 10 years, I do have flexibility to take care of my family's needs when there is an illness or a big event.  More than most I'd say.  But the daily grind.  It can wear me out.  And more, it can wear me down.  Last week I missed one day of working from home due to an interview in the office, and the week before I continued to work upstairs during movie night because of a essential last minute deadline I was required to meet.  That one night and that one day threw off my whole balance last week.  Add in the fact that after missing bedtime entirely 2 nights that week, I drove from downtown to Hillsboro to make it on time for Addie's Karate because I hadn't seen one lesson yet, but I got there as Lawrence was strolling all three of them out of the building, and my heart swelled with pain and failure.  In that moment, I made a decision.  I could have drove home angry at myself and my bad eyes for getting lost on the way there, not correctly reading street signs in the dark.  Instead I decided to be glad that I'd come, let Lawr have a peaceful drive home while we traded cars, and I cheerfully chatted for 40 minutes with my kids about their day.  Until I had to yell at Bryson not to tear up the book he was holding.  :)  


When we just had Lily, I thought I had the scraps.  But it was just her, and there were two of us.  And every moment of scrap time was spent making her feel loved, in an environment she thrived in, so there was less no, and more yes.  Even when mild tempered Addie came along.  There were two, and it was often divide and conquer scrap time, but Addie didn't get into things and destroy things the way Bryson does, so I felt like I could manage that scrap time and it was mostly pleasant with a dash of drill sergeant.  


These days, with the addition of my Bryson-monster - who has truly entered the terrible twos, if I'm not careful I can quickly turn mostly drill sergeant, with a dash of pleasant.  If I'm lucky.  And that's not good because my mind says you are doing your best, you are doing good enough, even.  But you know that's not what my heart says.  It says I'm not enough.  Not good enough.  And those are the times that I can reach out and tangibly feel God's voice in my ear.  You. Are. Enough.  Just. As. You. Are.  Right. Now.  


And I'm reminded that I don't have to clean up my act and be "better" before God will love me, he just does.  As I am.  With my imperfections.  And sin.  And failures, both self-perceived, and culturally-perceived.  He loves me now, and He certainly knows me now.  After all, He created me to be this mess.  A beautiful big mess with a purpose and a voice.  Right now.  This is it.  It's scraps.  But if I wasn't living on scraps now, would I ever be able to fully appreciate more someday?  I don't know.  I do know that there is a lesson to be learned through every story.  And it takes patience to get there.  Perspective helps too.  Will there be a day that I would give anything for this normal?  For this daily grind? Maybe.


So I spend my weekends fitting in QT with my family, going to birthday parties, and occasionally letting that my friends know that I have not fallen off the face of the earth.  We are making fun memories, while also trying to make sure we have food in the house and clean underwear to put on for the week ahead.  I have calendars and to do lists as far as the eye can see.  There are big plans for an organized future and year ahead, no forgotten library books or lunches or hats in 2012, no sir.  Not to mention 8 hrs of sleep.  The house usually gets bare minimum treatment, plus a little love from our cleaning lady every few weeks.  Those toilets aren't going to clean themselves and God knows I'll never find time.  


So what's a girl to do?  If you know me, you know I can't end any blog being all, woe is me.  You also know that I'm not looking for pity.  Being a mom is hard, 1 kid, 2 kids, 3 kids, 4 kids, 5 kids, whether you work or stay at home with your children, it's hard.  So this isn't a discussion of what I should do.  Everyone looks at everyone and says, 'oh I could never do that'.  But we all could do that, if that's what we had to do.  We all do do that, that which someone else says they could not.


So, I just keep going, and keep appreciating, and keep loving.  Keep eating those scraps like they are the best meal I've ever had. Because they are the only meal that I have.  And on a day, like my birthday, when I took the day off work, to just be with them, to just play with them, no obligations, no appointment, no work...well, then, I enjoy it and savor it, and know that this is how it should be.  This is the good stuff.  And this good stuff is mine.  And for now that's enough.    

"Gratitude turns what we have into enough"

Well, I am grateful, that's for sure.  

And sometimes I do get a chance to sit down and read the book.  

Busy

I know, I know, you all voted...and I have not delivered. I started the MCT blog, yesterday, while I should have been napping, but I only get 15 minutes at a time to write, and it's all over the place, way too long to put it all on on one blog.

As I was doing Lily's hair for her soccer game and her play last Saturday, Addie came and knocked the baggie of pony tails out of my hands, looking for attention. I was pressed for time, and I needed Lily's hair to withstand a rainy soccer game and then keep her hair out of her face for a dress rehearsal and 2 performances complete with lobster hat. But I didn't get upset. I said,

Me: "Addie, do you want me to do your hair first?"

A: "No"

Me: "Okay well I need you to not touch that while I do Lily's hair"

A: "You are a bad mom!"

Me: "I know"

Lily: "ADDIE! No you aren't, mama!"

Me: "Addie, it's okay to say that if that is what you are thinking, why do you think am I a bad mom?" (I'm working on validating her feelings - and I pretty much knew she had the right to feel that way in that moment)

Addie: You are a bad mom because you are SO busy.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Oh kid, if you only knew. Things are about to get so much worse.

So if you don't see me on here for a while it's because I'm preparing for my company to get audited for the first time in 20 years, chasing after my new toddler who is not only taking steps but also waking at 4am in celebration of "falling back", attempting to be home before bedtime on my 34th birthday so my kids and my husband remember I'm part of the family...racing there on public transit to get a few minutes with my kids after full days of audit staff sitting at my desk, learning to provide what they need from the new accounting software -once again- as it was "updated" over the weekend, there will be dashes of waterworks caused by my ridiculously over-tiredness starting the day and the fact that my little bro will finally get shipped out for real now, from his training place in MS to "the yucky place" overseas. As far as nursing, I've decided to stop pumping and only nurse Bryson in the morning and before bed, that is, when I make it home in time for bedtime. I think I can, I think I can make it five more weeks until his first birthday. So, I'm not going to say that the next few weeks will be much fun for me, but I'll get through it and I'm not really complaining. It would be nice if none of you out there email me to tell me that you miss me, talk to me about making a commitment for something, ask me to get together, request a favor, or remind me that I haven't updated my blog. I KNOW! I'm going to do the best I can, and that leaves little time for anything other than work and my family. I don't love you any less, just have to prioritize. Again. Always.

And if my kids don't say it to my face, no worries, I realize that at least for the next couple of weeks, I might deserve to be called a bad mom, because I am, in fact, too busy.

I threw a fit

Yesterday, I got Addie down for her nap and I ran downstairs to tell Lawrence I was headed to the store to do some MUCH needed grocery shopping. I would have rather played quietly with Bryson, or taken a nap myself, but diapers weren't buying themselves and Bryson's baby food cupboard was bone dry. Lily sort of stomped a bit that she couldn't go with me, but Lawrence reminded her that she needed to go to quiet time, because we let her stay up super late the night before visiting with her friend who was staying with us and going to Rachel's birthday party. She didn't listen to him and continued to sulk and pout. It was noon and I'd been up since 5am with Bryson after going to bed too late, at midnight the night before.

As I was trying to explain to Lily that it wasn't up for discussion, (though I continued to heartily discuss it with her!) I just needed to run and get a few things, and I'd be back by the time her quiet time was over and then we could make the flash cards from school; she continued to make a huffy face. Just then, Bryson got his arm caught in the top of one of the girls' stools and started to scream hysterically. As I went to rescue his pudgy little bicep from the weight of the lid plus his other fatty hand pressing down on top of it, Lily would not take no for an answer. I hugged Bryson, and I yelled at her, "Lily, get up to quiet time, NOW!" in a mean nasty mama bear voice. She scampered away in tears, yelling, "I want to bring my flash cards!". "NO!" I shouted.

Bryson calmed down and I looked up at Lawrence who had eyebrows raised. I could tell by the look on his face that I'd overreacted a little. I knew I had, and I didn't appreciate the judgment. I said, "Do you think I handled that too harshly?". He shrugged and said, "All I know is that we were down here having fun...", "...until I CAME ALONG!', I snipped. I reminded him about how the day before I wanted to run Lily over to the birthday party and Addie was practically dragging behind me on my leg - even though she had a friend here with plans and fun of her own. She couldn't go with to the party drop off because she has a runny nose and they have a new baby. I went on to Lawrence's raised eyebrow and wide eyes, about how earlier, Addie was crying and banging outside the bathroom. "I can't even go to the bathroom without disappointing someone in this house" I shrieked dramatically. I was so frustrated, explaining that while I would prefer not to leave the house to do errands or go to work, I literally have to kick someone off my leg and back in to the house as I close the door behind me.

"Do you know how that makes me feel? Every single day?" I demanded in my best woe is me quiver. He said that I was right, in a tone that told me he didn't think so.

Still holding Bryson, I attempt to do a donkey kick behind myself to illistrate for Lawrence yesterday's getting out the door debacle, but I trip a little. This doesn't stop me, once I get my grips again, I kick back in a reattempt and hit the toybox HARD with my heel. I lose my balance again while pantomiming a door slam, and sort of spin around falling on to the couch on my back with Bryson on my chest. "JEEZ! Take it easy!" Lawrence exclaims. I stop (easy to do when you are flat on your back on the couch). Horrified. Humiliated. Then I start laughing hysterically. Partially because I've been ranting and donkey kicking and I'm embarrassed by my behavior. Partially because I think it's pretty freaking funny how worked up I've got, all because Lily wanted to go to the store with me. I laugh at how ridiculous I sounded, and the hysteria in my voice as I ranted to my husband's wrinkled forehead and slight smirk. Then I start to cry. I'm not ever sure why exactly, but I think more than a little bit because my heel hurt so bad and more than a little bit because I feel so bad for how I yelled at Lily, and more than a little because I'm so glad Bryson is safe with my failed kicking falling fiasco.

I take my time out and then I say sorry to Lily, bringing her flash card materials to quiet time. And then I head to the grocery store, totally and completely emotionally depleted.

It reminded me how easily I come to expect my little ones to keep their composure when they are over tired and frustrated with things and how easily I can lose my own. Sometimes to be a better parent you have to get a little closer to where your kiddos stand and imagine what it feels like to be them for a moment, how it feels to feel disappointed or over controlled about something.

And sometimes, you just need to throw a fit.

I did.

No milk for you

Yesterday Bryson was 3 weeks old. He weighed 9lbs 8oz, up 1 pound since the week before!

Since his fussiness has gotten worse, I called my lactation consultant on Saturday and asked her what I should look for to see if he had reflux because that seemed to be a common question I was getting from other mamas when I mentioned how fussy he is.

Oh wait, he is screaming...maybe more later...

Okay, I'm back.

Lactation Laurie said she could tell if he had reflux in about 5 minutes if she could watch him eat. She was certain his fussiness was due to a feeding issue. When I asked her how she knew, she said "because I have been doing this for 28 years and what you are describing is not that uncommon". Oh.

So as soon as she took him out of his carseat on Sunday morning she said, "OH MY GOSH, this boy is FILLED with gas." He is so gassy and has cramps and that is the issue. She didn't think it was a milk sensitivity because that normally comes with crusty eyebrows and cradle cap, which he doesn't have, but after looking at him a little more, and seeing that he is nursing well, for sure no reflux, gaining well, just gassier than gassy can be...she decided to have me try no milk protein in my diet for the next three weeks. Also I'm giving him infant gas drops before each feeding.

Sunday night was horrible. Lawrence was out returning the TV we borrowed for the buckeye game. He just screamed in pain, inconsolable for 2 straight hours, and I was alone. I know friends who've had babies with colic, who cry for 4 hrs per night every night for 4 months, and I could not have imagined. Two hours felt like an eternity. At the end when he finally went to sleep I felt exhausted and worn out and numb.

So we had a pediatrician appt yesterday and his circumcision is finally all healed up. She confirmed everything Laurie said, agreed with most of the suggestions, though said if I wasn't seeing a difference in 10 days of dairy free, she would probably stop and not go the next 10.

He had a great day yesterday, napped well, lots of happy awake time. Lots of TOOTING! Last night was a little rough, and today I'm beat. Today hasn't been as good as yesterday but I do see a bit of an improvement over a week ago.

Dairy free is hard for me to do. I have everything in the house because of Addie's allergy. But I don't like soy. At all. And there is no French Vanilla Coffee Creamer at Albertsons, even the dairy free has milk in it. Go figure. But I plan to try Trader Joes or Whole Foods to find something I can put in my coffee.

So Lynnette, Sharon, anyone else out there who gave up milk protein for a YEAR, any suggestions...advice...how quickly is this gonna work?

And Laurie did say part of this is just his personality. He has a hot temper and wants what he wants NOW!

Man...it probably goes with out saying but a non fussy baby is so much easier. Addie, you spoiled the CRAP out of me!!

I'm worn out, I'm tired, there's not much in the tank for the girls...but I'm making it through, on very little caffeine and sleep...or protein...all of my favorite snacks are dairy.

Someday my daughters will forgive me for being such an impatient mama with no energy for them. At least I got a nap yesterday, today, I laid down for a while, but couldn't sleep because of a headache and some other stresses I couldn't stop thinking about.

Our old nanny Katy is visiting tonight and so is my aunt and cousin...

...and wouldn't you know it...

It's time to nurse again. Three hours passes at the blink of an eye!

Man, I wanna love nursing...but...

7 blogs in 7 days - day 5

Easy to be hard.

I'm not proud of it. And each night when I go to bed, I plan to do things better tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will be more patient and kind. Especially with Lily. She's been hard for me lately and it's not fair.

I forgot the concessions we made in raising a two year old Lily. We didn't mention certain things, especially before bedtime or nap time, we didn't eat certain things before a certain time, because she'd want something we didn't want her to have or not eat her dinner based on a mere suggestion we made. We didn't stop to pee, or if we did we snuck to the potty so she wouldn't want to try to go at a disgusting bathroom at a gas station somewhere. We were careful, and it was easy to create a world that made parenting a two year old, just a little easier. Her mind was so full - the power of suggestion was everywhere and we became pros at doing the dance of avoidance in order to keep ourselves sane.

But now...

That's all out the window - and we are parenting a 2 year old once again. One who is open to the power of suggestion, and one who LOVES to please her sister and make her "Yi-Yi" laugh. And I'm hard on Lily for suggesting things that cause Addie to misbehave. Why do I get irritated at Lily for telling Addie NOT to lick the seats at Newark Airport when she already IS NOT doing that because via power of suggestion means that within moments Addie is licking said seats, while Lily laughs hysterically. Hey Lily - don't thank mommy 75 times and talk about how yummy the brownie that I just snuck you was, when Addie is allergic and can't have it. Only to have Addie cry and scream and meltdown because SHE want's a snack/dessert/plastic bag NOW!

Over and over and over, I talk more sternly to Lily than I should and correct her more often than I should. And over and over and over for every thing she does to infuriate me she amazes me, with kindness and helpfulness and love for her little sister. And love for me. How could she still love me I sometimes wonder? And then at night I look at her sleeping and I think "Tomorrow, I will do a better job, I will remember to make a choice to talk more sweetly to my sweet one". And then when she come traipsing into my room at 6-something am waking me from a dead sleep and encouraging her sister to stick her hand into her poopy diaper - by laughing her head off and yelling through the house, "Addie whatever you do, do NOT put your hand into your poopy diaper, oh oh oh and whatever you do, don't wipe it on your face", I forget my promise made 7 hrs ago to myself because in a sleepy haze I'm catching Addie from wiping a poopy face on my white comforter just in the nick of time. Did I mention I'm not really a morning person?

And I have excuse after excuse after excuse and example after example after example...of why in the moment I lost my cool. And why I yelled at Lily for Addie's misbehavior because I could, because she knew better, because she was there.

I'm not proud of this, and I put it out there because I also know I'm not alone. In the happiness of our family, and there really is an overload of it, there is a struggling relationship between Lily and I sometimes. I don't think she even knows it. But I know it and I'm often disappointed in myself for having expectations for her that are too high, leaving me disappointed in the moment. She is so creative and smart and capable, I forget that this is a four year old little girl doing her best. I hope that by saying it out loud here, I can publicly commit to trying a little harder today and listening a little better and following through a little quicker. Because that's all I can do. I think I can raise the expectations I have of myself and lower the ones of her. I can accept that fact that she is not the problem, I am, my shortage of time or lack of planning ahead...those are the things I am irritated with, not my darling Lily who deserves to be treated with kindness and not harsh words of criticism.

Today was her first day of school. Lawrence dressed her, even though I had a cute little dress laid out. She still looked beautiful in another new outfit. Happy Birthday to my sister in law, Laureen, & to Lily's best friend Rachel!

And three cheers to all the mamas out there who are holding it together by a thread, doing the very best they can, and who vow to do better tomorrow, every tomorrow, here's to hoping that we WILL do better tomorrow and that we will get lots and lots of tomorrows with our little ones, and be thankful for their forgiveness when we need to exchange today for a better tomorrow. And here's to hoping none of us wake up tomorrow with poopy face prints on our white comforters...

What I've become.

Some times as a mother you have the hardest time dealing with yourself - at the reality of becoming what you promised you would "never become". It is your past self criticizing your current self. I think about this all the time, how my past self doesn't know $h*t! :)

My friend, Carrie's blog is TOO good this morning, I just had to share!

On another note. I'm SUPER excited to go see Dooce's book reading!

dooce.com

She wrote this.

It's my hell week at work, tomorrow is the quarterly closing, so I'll be missing a few bedtimes and become out of balance like I always do at the end of a quarter/beginning of the next, but I'm excited to take Friday off work because Lawrence's brother, mom, and nephew are coming in from NJ for two days!

Blog about our fun filled weekend, complete with awesome pictures to come!

Phew, now I'm a good mom again

This week started off a little rough when Lily announced that her ear hurt on Sunday afternoon. She's never been wrong about an ear infection since she could speak (or before that). Addie had a cold and had been sleeping like crap all last week/weekend. That meant no sleep for me for several nights. So I started off this week exhausted.

I was also a little worried about where my sweet, agreeable baby had gone, I thought maybe she was starting to hit the terrible twos a little early, or she was scarred from my working too much or something because she was a bear! She was clingy all weekend, not wanting to be put down, but even being cranky WHILE I was holding her. She wouldn't go to Lawrence and was furrowing her brow (a signature move when she is unsure) at everything. She started to throw tantrums on a dime and followed me around the house crying. I was having to SNEAK to the bathroom. She didn't want to have anything to do with daddy. Even at the store, she wouldn't give the strangers marveling at her even a grin.

So Monday morning when I was calling the pediatrician at 8am while changing (wrestling) a poopy diaper off of Addie, and Lily was attempting to put on 57 layers of clothes, and banging the drawers into my shins of Addie's changing table pulling 57 layers out for her...I hit my limit.

I lost it. I yelled at Addie. She cried. I yelled at Lily. She cried. I heard the meanness in my own voice and I didn't cry, but I wanted to. I love these girls to death, yet I was tired and stressed and angry and did I mention tired. How could I speak to them this way?

The pediatrician couldn't get us in until 11, so I called Tamara to come so I could work. She did and I got about 1.5 hours in before it was time to take them. Lily was testing me (and Tamara) like crazy, Addie was whining and clingy, I was mad at myself and felt like a zombie. Lawrence could sense that I wasn't doing too well, so he met me at the dr office during his lunch hour. He only stayed for about 30 minutes, but it was nice to have him for even a short while.

Lily did a perfect job for the dr, so Addie did too, she copied exactly what her sister did, including sitting on the big chair alone. Lily had an ear infection, Addie didn't. Lily's wasn't too bad, so we decided to wait it out without giving antibiotics at our drs suggestion, and it seems to have been the right thing, since it did get better on it's own. Though Lily told me today that she liked it when her ear hurts because she likes the taste of the tylenol. So we had a big talk about all the fun stuff that you DO get to feel and taste when you aren't sick.

We had another incidence that day of Lily's "testing" in the parking lot where she refused to hold my hand, and pulled away with cars all around, so I grabbed her wrist hard to get her the rest of the way to the car, practically dragging her as she screamed to all onlookers "Ouch you are hurting me". I got them in the car, then I yelled again. Right as we got home I remembered to tell her how much I liked the way she sat for the doctor and was a good example for her sister. Phew, now I'm a good mom again. Though I didn't really feel like it for the rest of the day.

I got to work at 1, stayed late, got home after bedtime, and had a much better day on Tuesday. Lily and I got along great, with lots of respect from both of us, and heaps and heaps of patience and kindness from me. Everyone sleeping through the night on Monday night didn't hurt. I also had a few answered prayers for strength and energy. AND my sweet sweet baby returned on Tuesday. She was back to her happy self, it was so funny what a 180 she did once she was feeling better. It was like a different kid. Like my good wonderful kid. Hooray!

Work has been busy since we let our employee go on Jan 30, but the stress level is so much lower. There is a lot of time sensitive work for me to do now that I am doing 2 jobs, but other than that, it was really the right decision to let her go. I've hired someone new, who is giving her current company 2 weeks notice, so she will be starting a week from Monday. 3 more days of working from home with all pressure on me. That's the hardest part of all this. Then I have training, but I have a feeling she will be really good. Today I was slammed but I did get 30 minutes on the elliptical in downstairs gym at work for a "lunch break". It felt good and reminded me that I need to take that time on my days in the office to do that, I came back ready to work, and feeling energized.

I have some other news about an Au Pair search that we are looking into...as well as the good funny stuff the kids say, and a few worries about money, but for tonight, I'm tired and need to sleep. I've been getting to bed to late and I'm looking rather weathered this week. Lawrence doesn't seem to notice. Tomorrow is Friday, and the weekend is welcomed with open arms. I'm feeling positive and good about life. Which is probably why I didn't feel like blogging earlier in the week.

Please keep our niece Cassidy in your prayers, she has to get surgery to have one of the tubes taken out of her ears as well as her adenoids removed. The surgery is Friday 2/13 (almost today).