Category: One of those days

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Cherish the days

That’s going to be my next tattoo. My grandma always says that to me, and I have it in her handwriting. It’s going to run vertically along my line of sea turtles for the kids. When I get around to it…

Fully the past decade of my life has been spent preparing for, having, and raising babies. And yes, I still consider the twins babies, even though they’ve turned 2. They don’t speak in complete sentences; they can’t dress themselves; they can’t make me a cocktail; and they still poop in their pants without warning. Definitely still babies.

But, since they are now 2, I’ve begun to wake up a little and see the world around me again not just as a pregnant/new mom, but as a regular person. And lately, that, unfortunately, has put me in a frequent state of comparison – houses, travels, other ways of and standings in life in general. Materialistic and superficial, yes, I am well aware, but it happens nonetheless.

There is a particular street in our village that is my absolute dream – the homes are enormous, the yards are equally huge and immaculate, it looks like you’re in a forest, and it feels about 8 million miles away from our area, when in reality we’re roughly a mile apart. I told Ryan maybe someday we can sell both our houses and look for a spread over there. Even that would probably still be a stretch.

I think comparing oneself and life to others is fairly common, but it just gets so damn annoying. I know I’ve said this here before, but as far back as I can remember I’ve always felt just a little different than everyone else, always just kind of out of place. I’ve never been able to place why, and it’s odd how many times people say “Me, too!” when I say that because I’ve always looked at everyone else as being the “they” with whom I and others compare ourselves. So to hear people say they’ve felt the exact same way and know exactly what I’m talking about seems crazy to me. I’d love to walk through every single day thinking my space in this world is absolutely perfect, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and there’s not one thing else I should be doing, but that’s easier said than done when we’re constantly surrounded by massive amounts of wealth that will probably always make me feel “less than,” no matter how happy I am. And I am, actually, truly happy. Just wondering, that’s all. Does a little comparison ever completely end? Is it human nature, or am I just weird?

A friend said to me the other night that he admires how I’m always going through life with a smile. I was completely surprised, yet flattered, and said well how am I supposed to be, angry at all the “could have beens” all the time? I feel like it’s better to go through life not just looking at the cup as being half full but having that half full part be overflowingly full. Sure I could’ve stayed in NYC, been a multi-multi-millionaire by now, and be living in a ridiculously expensive luxury penthouse in Manhattan, but I didn’t. I knew there was no way Ryan would have stayed out there permanently, I didn’t really want to either, it would have been impossible to raise a family there the way we’re raising ours, and I honestly hated my job more than just about anything I’ve ever hated in my life. I realized the second I started working out there that everyone around me cared solely about money, and that’s not me. There is SO much more to life that they were constantly missing. Having money is definitely a good thing, but it’s not the only thing.

And without me and Ryan being us, none of our kids would be here; and they pretty much are my life. Yes we live in a too-small house with too many kids and we don’t get to do everything that everyone else gets to do or go everywhere that everyone else gets to go or have everything that everyone else gets to have, but they don’t get to have our kids and the love and fun we have with them, either. Our 5 children are healthy, they’re happy, they have fun in the now and the everyday, they don’t really want for anything, and for that simple fact I am so grateful. So that’s why I smile. Because although it isn’t much right now to most people, it’s everything to me. It’s mine. It’s the “what is,” not “what should be.” I really do cherish the days with my whole heart.

And when our house is finally done, it will be practically double the size it is now. The kids will be able to run upstairs to their room, something I’ve always wanted in a home. I am fully aware that the size of one’s house is not the be-all and end-all in life, but with a family of 7, a little more breathing room will be nice.

All right, there are my mind’s ramblings for the day. Sorry it’s not a post full of pictures of the kids again, but it’s good to let my brain dump every once in a while. I used to do that all the time on here, but then we had all those kids mentioned above and life filled up and the house filled up and so did my head. Don’t worry, it’s slowly starting to come back to normal. Then watch out, Dream Drive, here we come! Just kidding, I’ll just be over here arranging furniture in our new upstairs instead. 😉

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Blessed, with worries

Notice I didn’t title this “Blessed with worries.” Because I’m not just one big ball of worries all the time. That wouldn’t be a blessing. That sounds downright miserable. However, I do have worries, even though I feel like my life is very blessed.

 

Blessings:

I have the most incredible opportunity to stay home with our children right now. Of course it didn’t happen how I ever expected it to, but it has been the greatest blessing imaginable.

I have a beautiful family, 2 members of which just so happen to be the most amazing, wonderful little girls I know.

We are healthy.

We have a good roof over our heads and food on our table. That roof is located in one of the best parts of the state, so we’re doubly blessed.

We are lucky enough to live a pretty comfortable life on really 1 income right now.

 

Worries:

My perfect, dream job income stream from earlier this year is gone, and I have no idea how I’m going to replace it for next year.

Everything I saved up from said job is also gone, thankfully paying some of our biggest bills for the year, but it’s still done. Fortunately we have a solid chunk in savings, but burning through that because I don’t have any readily available cash flow is the last thing I want to do. We’re going to have to use some of it for a little while, but hopefully that will end much sooner than later.

I don’t want to have to go back to full-time work already.

We have a couple looming house projects that will be major. How we are going to finance them is my main concern.

 

So I guess my real question is, who has the winning lottery numbers for me?

 

 




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Strength, or insanity?

So we all know how well things were going last week before our trip to Tucson. Well lucky for me, the fun just continued…

As soon as we boarded our flight on the way out, Lana turned into that kid. Screaming, writhing, kicking, flailing, coughing, snotting, you name it. She was utterly out of control. She was on a lap, then seconds later lying in the aisle picking specks of who-knows-what off the floor. At least she was hoarse, so her cries weren’t as ear-piercing as they could have been.

At one point either right before or during takeoff (see, i’m already trying to block the whole episode from memory) she was so fiendish, I literally had to pin her body against me to keep her from hitting everyone and everything around me with her flying limbs. I knew she was completely exhausted from her cold and lack of sleep, so I just held her as tightly to me as possible, which worked. She finally passed out after a few minutes, unfortunately only for about half an hour. Of the 4-hour flight.

I kept apologizing profusely to the people around us, who thankfully were saints. Every single one said not to worry, they all have multiple kids, and even the young girl across the aisle in front of me and Lana engaged her when she toddled up to her arm rest instead of rolling her eyes at me. The man seated in the middle of the row behind me leaned forward during this first outburst and said, “Do NOT apologize.” It brought me to tears, because I was horrified by Lana’s fit and was afraid he was going to yell at me.

And did you notice I said first outburst?

Yeah, it happened again at the end of the flight. You have no idea how relieved we were to get off that damn plane and get her out of there. I almost raided the drink cart for all the tiny liquor bottles I could find. Of course Della was her usual calm, happy self, or else I really would have lost my mind.

Fortunately that was about the worst of the trip, for every day their colds got better, so did Lana’s attitude. Mostly. She still needs to work on her listening skills, but I’ll cut her some slack since she is only 17 months old.

And thank god I almost always had plenty of helping hands close by since Ryan couldn’t go. We traveled both ways with my mom and step-dad; stayed with my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew; and were surrounded by family pretty much all the time. That saying about it taking a village to raise a child? It has never rung more true than on this trip.

I’m afraid I came back more exhausted than when we left and experiencing a return of my cold, though. The constant stream of making sure the little ones always had everything they needed meant I pretty much always came last. Is the diaper bag full – diapers, wipes, changes of clothes, snacks, pj’s, my wallet? Do we have the swim stuff – swim diapers, sunscreen, pool toys, floats, sunglasses, hats? Do we have the eating stuff – bibs, cups, kid spoons, kid forks? Are they bathed and free from the puke that keeps landing on them from their coughing fits?

I honestly barely figured out what to wear to the wedding, just making sure the girls’ outfits were set and they were taken care of first. I’m actually happy with what I wore, though. It was simple and comfortable, which became of utmost importance since I had to stand outside the ceremony the entire time holding Lana, who refused to sit with me from the moment my butt tried to touch a chair when we arrived at the hotel. At least my arms got a workout.

I’m not sure why I’m complaining, though. I guess just to get it off my chest and out of my head. This is my job as a parent, right? They are what’s most important, and especially being the only parent with them halfway across the country I had to be extra alert and prepared. It was just really tiring. Mentally and physically. I often found myself wondering if taking this trip showed I could handle things with them fine, or if it just meant I was certifiably nuts.

Don’t worry – for all this woe-is-me, we did have a lot of fun. The wedding locale was beautiful, my cousin looked stunning, and spending time with my mom’s entire side of the family is something I love. Plus it doesn’t happen all that often, so I’m very happy we got to take advantage. And the girls got to play with their cousin and second cousin, which was so great to watch.

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 angels…

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 …and demons (aw, but isn’t she a cute little dancing demon)

This tale does have a happy ending, thankfully. Both girls were absolute dreams on the flight home, even napping much of the way. So I think it really was the cold raging inside Lana that transformed her into that little demon on the way out. She’s lucky – had there been a repeat performance on the way back, I seriously would have considered getting tranquilizers for her for the flights to and from Hawaii in a few weeks. Well played, little one.

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 the whole fam, minus the bride and groom. they were a little busy.




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To-NOT-Do List

When preparing to fly across the country with 1 small and 1 slightly bigger toddler, here is a list of possible scenarios:

  • Get a head cold.
  • Pass said head cold onto both toddlers.
  • Toddler 1 becomes so snot-filled that she does not sleep for 3 nights and counting.
  • Toddler 2 becomes so snot-filled that she coughs herself to vomiting the night before you plan to go out of town.
  • Toddler 1 blows through a box and a half of Kleenex, making it really difficult to pack a small suitcase with all that tissue needed.
  • Toddler 2 knows to keep a spare Kleenex in her sleeve in case she doesn’t have pockets, but that ends up just stuffing her sleeves with snot-ridden goo balls.
  • Try to pack for all 3 of you while stopping every 14 seconds to wipe Toddler 1’s nose.
  • Figure out into which suitcase the giant bag of medicine that is now needed will fit.
  • Stay sane in your zombie-like state.

Now, guess which of the above applies to me today.

All of them. Hooray!

And Ryan’s not coming.

Thankfully the girls and I are traveling with my mom and step-dad, so that will be an enormous help. And despite the hassle I feel getting ready here, I know it will end up being a wonderful trip. We’re going out to sunny Tucson for one of my cousin’s wedding, and it will be great to get out of this cold-again weather and spend a couple days with family.

But talk about terrible timing for all this shit, as usual.

So wish us safe travels! And sleep.

 




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Polar vortex + Money pit = I hate winter!!

This morning I heard Ryan get up at 5 a.m., go out to the dining room, and start fiddling. Before I even heard him hurdle the baby gate and lumber down to the basement, I knew exactly what was happening.

The furnace died.

Again.

Shit.

I think this is the 3rd time this has happened. I know it’s at least the second, but I honestly can’t remember if there was 1 other time in there or not. But either way, we are heat-less.

This morning’s outside temperature was -2. Our inside temp?

48.

Party time.

Thankfully (if there is a “thankfully” in this situation), since this has happened before, Ryan knew exactly what part needed to be replaced and ordered it right away in the wee hours of this morning. However, today being Friday, I’m sure we won’t get it until at least Monday, as it’s coming from New York.

And tomorrow’s forecast includes snow.

AGAIN!

Man, do I hate that stuff now. Nay, detest it. I’ve said it so many times this winter (because it keeps happening!!), but every time I wake up to freshly fallen snow now, instead of thinking how peaceful and pretty it looks like I used to, I just get instantly angry. Because I know I’m going to have to go shovel that crap yet again, since it’s usually never enough to warrant breaking out the snow blower. Plus I can never get the damn thing started, so there’s that issue, too.

But back to our money pit of a house, it’s cold. We are so blessed to have the most wonderful neighbors, though. We’ve borrowed 3 space heaters to add to our 2, and everyone has said to come on over to their places to warm up and take a load off. I can’t say it enough, but we seriously live on the best block in the world. Hands down.

Thanks to these beautiful people, we are now up to 65 degrees in here! Wahoo!! And fortunately we have plenty of tights, leggings, and layers, so these 2 miniature beautiful people didn’t freeze their tiny buns off today:

Tato' heads

 

And we’re getting a new furnace this summer.

 

 




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Lost

“I just don’t feel like ‘me’ anymore…”

I’ve often heard people say things along those lines and could never really understand what they meant. What do you mean you don’t feel like you? That doesn’t make any sense. Until now.

I just don’t feel like “me” anymore.

I don’t feel like Jocelyn; I just feel like a random “her”.

I spend my days at home being a mom right now, but that’s all I do. And I don’t think I’m a particularly good one much of the time either, so that’s a kick in the ass. I’m sure Ryan would rate me pretty low on the scale of wife-dom too, since most of the time he’s home after work I’m wrangling one or both of the kids and spending the entire evening dealing with bedtimes and cleaning up messes. Do I feel like talking about anything once that’s done? No. Lovely.

When I look in the mirror I see tired, boring, plain, not necessarily unhappy, but just un-. Where did I go? I used to see really happy, pretty, fun, if I do say so myself.

Lost.

How do I get un-lost?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m beyond grateful for all that I have – a great husband, 2 incredible daughters, a home, food on the table, a wonderful family, our health. Which actually makes me feel worse – like how dare I get down on myself when I have so much that’s good? What do I have to whine about?

I don’t know when I got lost either. Fairly recently, I guess. Maybe it’s not having a job to make me feel like I contribute? Maybe I’m no good at having a toddler and an infant at the same time? Maybe it’s my growing dislike of winter? Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t gotten any real, heart-pumping exercise in months (which definitely needs to change now that i’ve gotten the all-clear after having lana)? Maybe 33 is the age where I just start to suck in general? Who knows.

I don’t feel depressed in the clinical sense, so please don’t send me a list of meds or therapists. I don’t not want to get out of bed; I don’t not get stuff done that needs to be done; I don’t not.

I just don’t feel quite like me right now. I feel an overall sense of blah, if you will. Unfortunately, it’s not becoming on me.

So maybe it’s a good thing 2012 is on its way out tonight. Besides the birth of our second daughter, the beautiful Baby Lana, this year can suck it. I lost my job, and now I seem to have lost me.

I hope I find her again in 2013.

 

 




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Bad day

I feel like a complete and utter failure. It’s mid-day and I’ve yelled at Della more than once. I’ve put her in bed with no lunch because she refused to do the simplest of tasks and repeatedly screamed “No!” in my face. That obviously didn’t work as she screamed and flailed at me even more, so she finally got her lunch another half hour later after doing what I’d asked her long before. Then she started screaming again as I cleaned her up after lunch when I told her she couldn’t watch tv but had to take her nap. Why? Why so awful?

Lana has been piercing my eardrums with her siren wail all morning. And her simultaneous poopsplosion and 4 wave tsunami barf added one more bath to the to-do list today.

The fact that I still have to unload the dishwasher, finish up the two loads of laundry waiting downstairs, bake, go to the grocery store, and wrap presents does not add to my overall demeanor either. Why? What is it about today that needed to be so bad?

I feel ashamed and unhappy. I hate raising my voice and being mad at my children; that’s not right. But I guess almost 7 weeks with 2 of them was my breaking point. And just when I thought things were going so well and I’d gotten the hang of this motherhood thing.