Tag: Crazies

Because I’m just a little crazy sometimes

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Reprieve

It’s been a long time since I posted about me. I still want to get a “life with 3” post up here soon, but that’s not this one.

I just want to write about how incredibly thrilled I am that this December is, so far, turning out to feel nothing like December. I do love a white Christmas and all, but that’s about all the winter I want anymore. And the bitter, below-zero cold I can do without all together.

The worst part for me, though, is the darkness. I hate, nay, despise, loathe the dark winter days that creep in. This started the year Lana was born. Having a hard, fussy newborn in those shortening, cold dark days was miserable. I think it gave me late-onset seasonal affective disorder. For real. It’s dark when we wake, it’s dark well before dinner, and if it’s cloudy, forget it – it’s dark all damn day.

But this season has felt so great! I know for sure it has to do with our weather being so mild this late on the calendar. I’m still walking Della to school, which I know stopped long before this point last year. Granted I was pregnant and feeling awful in the first trimester, so that had much to do with it, but still. I’m not even minding the darkness at all this year. Or the fact that Morrison is the world’s worst night sleeper and I’m turning into a total zombie. But that’s a whole other story…

And the best part? There are only 10 more days until they start getting longer again! MORE LIGHT!!! I love it. I think my SAD has been skipped for this year. Thank god.

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Early onset empty nest syndrome

Della starts school in just a couple weeks, and I won’t lie – I think it’s giving me major anxiety. Yes, it’s only K4, and yes, it will only be 3 hours a day in the mornings, but still. I don’t want her to be gone!

It’s so strange picturing my days here without her. What are Lana and I going to do all morning? Della is my resident babysitter for Lana when I need to get stuff done, whether it be work, cleaning, or just general stuff that doesn’t involve direct interaction with one of my children. Honestly, I can’t picture the days without her. I have a feeling it’ll take actually having her gone those hours before I can wrap my head around it.

I know she’ll be fine, and I’m sure she’ll thrive, knowing that incredible little mind and spirit of hers. Thankfully, our school district is one of the better ones in the state, so I’m not worried there either. It’s all me.

I’m going to miss her, though. She’s my first child, and I never even thought about the fact that her school days would be here so soon. 4 years? That’s all I get with her like this? 4 years?? I feel like we have so many more days we need to play and have no schedule and just be here together. But, sadly, they are quickly running out.

The notion of now being part of a school system for the next 20+ years is a little unsettling, too. Supplies and teachers and new kids and lunchrooms and that smell. Don’t all schools smell the same, or is that just me, too? I’m definitely not looking forward to like 700 new kids and their parents. What if I can’t stand all the parents of Della’s new classmates and then we’re stuck with them for 12 more years? Ugh. Or what if they feel that way about us? Ugh more.

I guess my memories of school days are not all sunshine and rainbows, and maybe that’s why I’m dreading this new chapter so much right now. Not that school was bad for me, I just don’t look back and think wow, those were the absolute best times of my life. I was so ready to be done with school and out of Peoria by the time I graduated high school, that that’s pretty much the main feeling about school that I remember. Sure I can tell you all about my elementary and middle schools, but overall, I just wanted to be done.

So I really hope Della enjoys her school days much more than I remember doing and doesn’t necessarily want to bolt out of here as soon as she can. Because I want her to always want to stay. Which is ridiculously selfish, because of course she won’t want to. But hopefully at least she’ll always want to come back.

I just don’t like this feeling that my baby girl is going to be in this giant sea of other students pretty soon, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want her to go, but I know she can’t stay here forever. And as much as I’d love to keep her here, I don’t think there’s any way I’m cut out for homeschooling. What, you don’t want to do your homework today? Ok cool, neither do I. Let’s go outside. Yeah, I don’t think they’d get very far with my classroom curriculum.

Is there any cure for this knot I get in the heart of my soul every time I think of her tiny little self walking through those huge, looming school doors? Or will it only be cured with time and seeing that it’s really not so scary (i hope) and watching her grow?

We did take a practice walk to the school today and played on the playground, so I could get a feel of how early our morning routines will have to start come September. It’s not too bad, but I’m sure I won’t be able to take them in the double stroller. Even in K4, who wants their mom to walk them to school in a stroller? Am I right, or am I way overthinking this? I just assumed being dropped off from a stroller would be a little too babyish. So I’ll probably push Lana in the single stroller and Della will just walk with me. Fortunately the playground there is awesome, so I know she was really excited about exploring that and climbing all the new monkey bars.

I simply can’t believe (nor do i want to believe) that this beautiful little piece of my heart is not going to be mine for parts of the days anymore. Somebody better send me 18 boxes of Kleenex for that first day, because I’m sure I’ll be a mess.

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From 1 to 2

Seeing how we don’t have Lana’s 12 month well-check for another couple weeks, I won’t be able to do her “official” 12 month post until we get those stats. So to honor her 1st birthday, I’ll instead go with a post that is roughly 365 days overdue. But you guys should be used to my extreme tardiness with this stuff by now, though. Right…?

When I got pregnant for the second time, I had no idea what to expect as far as our new family dynamic. I think I just kind of assumed 2 kids, 2 of everything that fell under the general umbrella of “stuff they need”. It didn’t take me long to realize that was 100% inaccurate.

Before Lana was born, I felt pretty good about having everything we needed for another newborn, since all of Della’s stuff was only 2ish years old and still in perfect working order. We had a crib, an infant car seat, newborn clothes (even though i had to go out and get a bunch of warm-weather girl pj’s once she arrived since hers and della’s seasons are just that much off), I got my pump out and dusted it off, washed all the bottles, washed all the playmat/baby carrier/baby bed paraphernalia, stocked up on newborn diapers (no, i still couldn’t muster the effort to try cloth this time around either), etc. We were good to go.

The one big unknown, as always, was timing of this little one. Della was born 8 days before my due date and my doctor said women tend to have similar gestational periods with subsequent babies, but you never really know. So I literally had my mom on standby in the weeks leading up to my due date with Lana, waiting for that call to come watch Della while Ryan and I went to the hospital to see who was going to come next. I had my hospital bag packed and so did she.

Something that gave me a huge leg up this time over when Della was born, though, was that I pretty well knew what the start of my labor was going to feel like. I was just worried that my mom wouldn’t be able to get here in time if it all went as fast as it did with Della, or that it would happen in the middle of the night and we’d have no idea what to do with D.

Fortunately, however, everything fell perfectly into place – I woke up to a contraction at 1:30 a.m., they continued about every half hour for the rest of that night/early morning until I got up around 7, sent my mom the “I think it’s the day. Come on up!” message, showered, made sure every last thing was cleaned up and ready to go, double checked my hospital bag and the stuff D was going to need while I was staying there, then just waited. My mom got to our house just after 9 a.m., Ryan of course had to run some crazy errand that was like 45 minutes away so was gone when she arrived, I talked to the doctor to see when they wanted me to come in this time since I tested positive for Strep B and needed penicillin ideally 4 hours before delivery, and just sat tight until my contractions were 5-10 minutes apart for a solid half hour.

Ryan and I got to the hospital around 3 p.m., they broke my water a little after 6:30, and Lana Marie came screaming into this world at 7:24 p.m. one year ago today. Crazy, eh? I wouldn’t say it’s hard to believe it’s been a whole year, but I’d say it’s more surreal. Surreal that we now have a 1 year old walking around our house like she owns the place, hollering the whole while. It’s wonderful.

I’ll never forget how worried I was about adding another child to our family, either. I had this unnerving fear that I’d never be able to love another as much as I loved Della, and that Della would suddenly feel second-rate once a new baby came in and shook everything up. I cried in the shower that morning Lana was born, just hoping and praying that we were doing the right thing by giving Della a sibling. And thankfully not a day goes by where I’m not absolutely convinced that we did. The way these 2 play with and love each other is just incredible.

That’s not to say every day has been filled with sunshine and roses, though. Ha! No way. You all know how hard it got for me last winter. I was so frustrated feeling like I just couldn’t get everything right by everyone after a couple months being home full-time with a newborn and a 2 year old.

That original notion I had that 2 kids just meant 2 of everything? So totally wrong. The needs don’t just increase by a factor of how many children you have. Unfortunately. They increase EXPONENTIALLY. Yeah, math. For you see, newborns are so much more needy with the copious amounts of stuff and things than toddlers, a fact that had simply slipped my mind in those 2 years between Della’s newborn days and Lana’s.

I couldn’t just put an extra outfit, diaper, and snacks in the bag for Lana like I did for Della when we’d go somewhere. L needed multiple outfits for the inevitable multiple blowouts/leaks/barfs; multiple burp rags for those exact same episodes; multiple (multiple!) diapers because you never knew how many of those episodes would occur on even the shortest errands/trips; bottles at the ready if I wasn’t planning on nursing her wherever we went; pacifiers for the emergency yowl that always seemed to escape her tiny lips; numerous layers to keep that precious baby skin protected since her early days were spent in the decline of sunlight and warmth for the year (yuck!); and on and on and on.

I think that was part of what drove me the most crazy. Constantly having to write and rewrite the mental list of “things we need” every time I even thought of trying to get the 3 of us out the door. I think our first outing as a trio was a walk to CVS, which is roughly a dozen blocks from our house. Like the easiest walk in the world and something we’ve done countless times before and since. But I swear to you, it took HOURS to get that train out the door. By the time I got us all ready and bundled and loaded (lana being worn in a carrier on me since she was tiny and we had no double stroller at the time), either D had to pee, I had to pee, L had to eat again because we’d taken so damn long, D had to get a new pair of mittens on, I had to change because I was so sweaty from trying to do all this while wearing my winter coat with a baby on my chest, or whatever.

I think the highlight of my winter last year was getting home from that 1 simple walking errand. I had done it! No matter that it literally took all morning to take a 20 minute round-trip walk, but we had made it. And I’d even remembered to keep Lana’s pacifier up at the ready by her face for the second she started crying in the store.

So just 1 small example of how doubling our children didn’t mean doubling their stuff, it meant burying us under it.

And this is definitely the reason why we potty trained Della at 28 months. She was just under 27 months old when Lana was born, and once we started having to get 2 shipments of diapers each month I said forget it. This kid’s gonna go on the toilet like the rest of us, so help me god. And fortunately she’s the most easily-taught kid ever and she did. She’d already shown interest in the toilet and gone on it a couple times, so it wasn’t like I just sprung this all on her, but she honestly only had a handful of accidents at most in those first couple weeks. We just went right into underwear, no pull-ups, and that was it. No more double diapers!

So yeah, going from 1 kid to 2 was harder than I expected and harder than I think I really let myself believe at first. Like I said, it took a couple months before I really felt overwhelmed, probably because I didn’t want to admit I couldn’t handle it. But once I realized that I was struggling and said and did something about it, every day has gotten better since. Yes, I know that sounds utterly cliche, but it really has.

There was a week last winter when Ryan was out of town for some training, and I was terrified at having to be home by myself with both of them for most of that time (i took the girls down to my mom’s house on thursday of that week, i believe, so i didn’t have to serve the entire sentence alone). But I took it one half day at a time – light and dark (lana wasn’t even close to sleeping through at that point, so that’s why i didn’t bother calling it night. like i was sleeping, ha!) – and we made it.

Just like with your first-born, you start getting into a rhythm, and everything begins falling into its rightful place in the scheme of your new lives. Hours at a time at first, then days, then weeks, and now it’s been a year. And I am the happiest and most stress-free I’ve been in a very long time. And I have 1 kid hanging on each leg.

So there you have it. My story of how life changed when we went from a family of 3 to a family of 4. Fine at first with all the newborn bliss, then increasingly hard as daily life at home with 2 set in, but now fantastic with 2 of the happiest, most amazing children I could have asked for. Well, they’re happy most of the time anyway. Until Lana remembers she wants something that she doesn’t have in her hand that very second and starts wailing for it.

And speaking of the birthday girl, here’s a little peek from her birthday party this past Saturday. She was the belle of the ball, running around (literally!) with all the big kids and playing all night long. I’ll have plenty more pictures for you when I get her 12 month post up, too. But for now, Happiest of Happy 1st Birthdays, little Lana Marie! We love you so very, very much. Thank you for making us into our family of 4.

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The midnight hours

You know the ones. The ones where the house is still. The ones where the messes are cleaned. The ones where the mouths are silent and the bodies are tucked snugly in bed. The ones where all is quiet.

Except my mind.

It’s deep in the heart of early morning, and Lana has just gone back down after her (usually) once-nightly feeding. I climb wearily back into bed and listen to her trying to drift back off to the land of nod. Sometimes she does it; sometimes she needs a little help from her friend Blue, a.k.a. the pacifier.

So wouldn’t it rightly follow that I should do the same?

One would think, yes.

But no. That’s usually when it starts. That’s when my brain decides to wake up, instead of saving its capacity for the daytime hours, when I really need it.

I need to make a checklist for the store. What do I need to get done around the house tomorrow? Or, more correctly, I guess it’s really today now. What are Della and I going to do today? When is such-and-such going to get done on the house? How should we do such-and-such on the house? Who needs to be bathed today? Should I make coffee when I get up or go right to breakfast if I have time?

Who cares??

Just settle and enjoy the last hours of the night. You need to. Whatever comes today will take care of itself, with no worrying from your midnight thoughts needed.

Just go.

Sleep… sleep… sleep…

 

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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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Exhale

Christmas tree

Here I sit at 9:30 on a Thursday night. Folding the last of the day’s laundry by the light of the Christmas tree, Lana drifting off to sleep on the couch beside me. Her snuffles and grunts on the pacifier are slowly becoming quieter the closer she gets to the night’s slumber. Not that folding laundry is a particularly sentimental activity, it just happened to be what I was doing when the mood to type struck. I don’t mind it either. I’d much rather be folding laundry than ironing. Bleh. And have you ever folded size 2T/3T underwear? The fact that they even make butts that tiny is hysterical enough to make the activity almost enjoyable.

Della has just gone to bed and fortunately didn’t pull another round of crying as soon as I shut the door. That’s been her trick lately. Well, that and throwing a crying/whining fit before bed to try and avoid it all together. “Me sit Mama baby.” No, you already sat with Mama and Baby Lana. “Me sit Dada.” (increasingly whiny and teary) No, you already sat with Dada. “Me watch Do-do” (a.k.a Dora) Hell no, child. It’s bedtime.

I did just hear a thunk against the wall, though, which usually means she’s out and has rolled over to knock one of her million stuffed toys into the wall next to her bed. It’s probably the light-up ladybug that projects stars and the moon onto the ceiling and walls, which is her new favorite. A gift from one of Ryan’s cousins for Lana actually, but D has commandeered it until L needs it. Which, my guess is, will be never, or at least until D gives it up willingly. So, never.

This has been a week for the record books around here. All 4 of us have been simultaneously sick. Urg. It started last weekend, when both Ryan and I felt the early twinges of sore throats and headaches. Fortunately mine progressed from there, as it usually does, into just a full-blown head cold. Unfortunately Ryan and D bore the brunt. Ryan has been home sick the past 2 days, which I think is a record for him, with fever, aches, chills/sweats, all over nasty. D barfed Monday and yesterday, but now seems to be on the mend with just the remnants of a runny nose left so far. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, however. L has gotten super congested again, but thankfully I think that is the extent of her cold. I hate when infants get sick, because what can you really do for them?

So we are anxiously awaiting the return of health within our walls. Needless to say moods will be improved all around when it comes. Not that we’ve been mean to each other, but being in the throes of the flu doesn’t really lend itself to robust conversation. Grunts and phrases have been our main modes of communication this week. Fortunately Ryan was feeling better today than yesterday and was able to help me take care of the tinies, but he’s still struggling and going to bed well before either of their bedtimes. So it again falls to me to get them ready and asleep, then finish up everything I need to do around the house. At least I was able to eat dinner before 10:00 tonight.

I do still need to clean up the kitchen. I actually cooked dinner tonight! It was a slow cooker beef bourguignon over egg noodles, which I thought was pretty good. Ryan said it was bland, but whatever. See, moods need to improve soon.

Right now, though, I think I’ll get L into her crib. Before she was born, I read a very helpful newborn trick for cold weather babies – put a heating pad in their crib to warm it up before you lay them down (remove it when they go in there, obviously), and they won’t be awakened so much by their head hitting a cold sheet. So far it’s worked wonders for L. She almost never wakes when I put her in there at bedtime or after her nightly feedings. And fortunately she doesn’t need this pacifier anymore once she’s asleep. She does get a little frantic looking for it when it falls out before she’s totally out, but once the eyelids have drooped for the last time she doesn’t need it to stay asleep or need it put back in if she wakes in the night. Hallelujah. That was one game I was completely unwilling to play – find and replace the pacifier. No way.

I know I should go to bed immediately once the kids are asleep, but these night time hours when I have the house to myself (who am i kidding – i mean the tv to myself) and everyone else is quiet are when I can get “me” stuff done – work on L’s baby book, clean up whatever messes have been left from the day, eat if I haven’t gotten around to it at regular meal times during the day (which is almost always these days), breathe. They help remind me that these peaceful times far outweigh the bad ones in this crazy, exhilarating, frightening, amazing thing we call parenthood. They help remind me why we are not one of the species who eats their young, but rather one who loves and embraces the next generation we have bred. For these tinies right here are going to grow up to be wonders. Our wonders.

See, just look at that face. A precious person in the making…

L

 

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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.