This Week Didn’t Go According to Plan

This week was one of those weeks where I had to concede to the fact I cannot do everything.

I know this sounds really obvious, but I carefully organize my days so I can do *everything*.  My day looks incredibly doable on paper, but it has yet to work out the way I would like it to.

I am juggling a lot of balls while walking on a fine tightrope of balancing life and work, and all it takes is one unforeseen event to cause a misstep and everything goes tumbling.  I try not to get frustrated, especially since it’s only been a month that I’ve been attempting to manage all of my stuff.  And I love all of the stuff I am doing – working with great people at Hay ThereSocial Media, teaching at Walsh College, working on my blog so it’s not like I’m complaining.  But if I could just have 26 hours in a day, I feel my beautifully orchestrated days would become a reality.

 See, when Thomas went off to school fulltime, one of the things I wanted to do was really focus on my writing skills.  And ironically enough, I found HerStories Personal Essay Boot Camp. This has been such a wonderful learning experience, and unlike other attempts to practice the craft of writing, I am actually held accountable with deadlines and group members.

This week our essay is due.  And I’ve been working really hard on it in between everything else.

While I am learning some new storytelling techniques, I think it is interesting that it brought me back to my first love: journaling.  I have been wanting, actually needing, to go back to this form of writing so it feels right.

But that meant not writing the blog post I had wanted to write this week. 

It is always a humbling experience when I set these lofty goals for myself and then have them not happen the way I had envisioned.  But I did find my way back to journaling so maybe it wasn’t that bad of a week.

Next week will be better (although I said that about this week, too). 

How was your week?  Did you finish what you needed to accomplish?  Or did your life take you on a detour?

Mommy Guilt

See this photo.

It makes me feel all lit up inside – I can’t believe that there are people out there who call me Professor Rawlings.  (In fact, I just have them call me Erin because Professor Rawlings makes it sound like I should sitting in a library filled with leather-bound books while I drink scotch and smoke a pipe).

I cannot believe that I am teaching again.  And not teaching English to a bunch of teenagers who could care less, but social media strategy to students that pay to be there.

Seriously?  Mind. Blown.

I took the job with much trepidation because I didn’t want anything to get in my way of being a good mom.  I was afraid to be committed to anything else but my kids. 

I was so nervous that I think I made up my mind not to love it before it even started.  If I loved something like a job, wouldn’t that take away my love that I have for my kids?  Wouldn’t it take up time that was meant for them? 

Well, after beginning my third semester a few weeks ago, I have to admit that I am really enjoying teaching again.  And it seems like the administration likes me since they have asked me to develop additional curriculum.  Not only do I like teaching, but it also gives me some sort of structure to get my blogging stuff done.  I do believe that this will help me achieve my goal of world domination while still wearing my pajamas.

I think I would be totally soaking up all this happiness and accomplishment if I didn’t feel so damn guilty about devoting time to something other than my kids.

In my mind, I was going to be a stay-at-home mom until Thomas was in kindergarten.  This stuff wasn’t supposed to happen this soon. 

I think my preconceived notion of what I thought motherhood would be like is the main factor of this particular brand of mommy guilt.  Kids are all consuming, but if you do your job right, they leave the nest - not all at once, but in little steps. I don’t want to be left wondering who I am if my whole identity is tied exclusively to being “Marie and Thomas’s Mom.”   On the flip side, I feel that I could totally get sucked into teaching and all the opportunities that come along with it.

So maybe the true factor in alleviating this mommy guilt is to find balance.  I so badly want to find the magic equation that will balance motherhood and career, but if I have learned anything, balance is all about trial and error.  Getting it right one day doesn’t mean I have figured out the secret code. 

How do you strike that balance between motherhood and whatever else makes you happy?  I could you a little pep talk . . .

Moving In

Big news - we are moving into our new house this weekend!!

The last piece of the puzzle (carpet installation) was completed this week so we are ready.  Finally.  Not ready to put this company on blast yet, but when you promise us something and we base our decision to buy from you based on that promise, you better follow through.  Without an attitude.  Roar.

But I digress.

For those who are keeping track, we have been in with my parents for approximately six weeks.  We have had some nice times along with some difficult ones.   I am a full-grown adult with a family of her own living with her parents - there are bound to be a few bumps in the road.  (And if you are going to practice multigenerational living, I can attest that these tips from my interview with Susan Newman for The Mother Company are super helpful).

Since I knew this arrangement wasn’t forever, I tried to approached the experience by diligently focusing on the moment with the knowledge that there is a good chance that I probably won’t be living with them like this again.

Having said that, there are a few things I am looking forward to when we finally take residency in our new home.*

My office :

This was a huge selling point for me!  Not only will I be able to have my computer, books, printer, and calendar on the same level of the home, but they will all be in the same room!  A room that will not be shared with the kitchen.  Or the basement.  Which was how my old “office” was set up, like bits and pieces throughout the house.

Big trees in our backyard instead of a major road:

 I grew up with a huge backyard with lots of trees, which I totally took for granted until our last house which was backed up to a busy road right by an intersection.  Fire trucks always paused there, and lucky for us, we were situated between two fire houses.  Now we can hear birds sing without the backdrop of traffic.

An upstairs:

It will be so very nice to have bedrooms that are not on the main level.  I am just fantasizing here, but maybe, just maybe I can make coffee without waking everyone up.  And since I am already day dreaming, I will take that coffee into my office and look out at all those big trees in my backyard.

A pool: 

There is a pool in our neighborhood - a pool that I can enjoy without having to take care of it!  This is a game changer for how we are going to spend our days this summer for sure!  On a related note: I see a lot of dirty laundry piles and sandwiches for dinner in our future this summer.

Here’s to hoping this all lives up to my expectations!!

*It just dawned on me that I have no photos of this whatsoever.  I think I avoided taking photos because it just seemed like a place we would visit. I will be sure to rectify this immediately. 

This House

We did it.  We closed on our house and after this weekend, we will no longer live here.  

At the closing, I was ready to be angry at the couple who bought our house because their agent was such a jack ass.  But when we got there, I saw a couple who looked too young to buy house and were probably clueless to the antics their agent was pulling on us.  

Truth be told, we were probably their age when we bought this house.

Our first house.

At the ripe age of 25.

Ten years ago.

I glanced at the couple as I signed my name a hundred times, and I was overcome with nostalgia.

We were babies when we bought this house.

We brought our babies home from the hospital in this house.  They learned to crawl, walk, and talk in this house.

We became grownups in this house.

I learned who I was in this house.

We don’t want to stay here - we have outgrown this house and want to move to a community with a downtown area with lots of parks.  I’ve been plotting and scheming a way into our new city for years.  And now it’s finally going to happen.

But I’m a little sad to be leaving this house where we became a family.

As I pack up up every single thing, I have had a lot of time to think about things.  (Like every damn day).

I wonder if Marie and Thomas’s rooms will still have their own sweet, distinctive scents: Marie’s  is a mix of lavender bath soap mixed with her own powdery scent.  Thomas’s has this clean, fresh yet sleepy scent.  If I could bottle it up and pack it with us, I would.  Because my heart may break a bit if the scents get lost in the move.

I wonder if we will be happy in our new house.  Yes, I’ve always wanted to live in this city, but sometimes things don’t live up to the image I have in my head.    I am hoping that the lessons I’ve learned in this house have prepared me to accept that nothing is perfect and to find the joy and happiness in any situation.

I wonder if the new couple will become a family here like us and the family before us.

My heart kind of breaks that we will be moving this house, the house where we have had celebrated birthdays and holidays and babyhood milestones.  I am sad to leave the neighbors who have taught me how wonderful it is to live by close friends who you not only trust, but enjoy.  This is an experience that was lost on me in my childhood since we didn’t have a lot of neighbors.  I will be sad not to see them every morning at the bus stop, but eternally grateful for their lesson in friendship.

I know that wherever we are together as a family is home; memories are not constrained by the walls of a home because they can always be found in the heart.  But right now my feelings are a mashup of everything bitter and sweet.

Have you ever moved from a place that you are emotionally connected to?  How did you deal with it?

Reasons My Life Has Gotten in the Way of Blogging

What?!  It’s next week already?!  I missed my Tuesday post?  And my Skinny Scoop post?!  What the hell did I do all last week?

My life, that’s what I’ve been doing.  This week was a total amped up version of what I handle in a regular week.  And it’s kept me from blogging.  What’s up with that?!  Because I never feel like I do anything, I’ve decided to justify to myself my lapse in writing a list of everything else I did instead of blogging.  Instead of blogging, I have done the following:

1. Took the Babes to the ENT which concluded with the doctor taking out one of Thomas’s tubes since it was on its way out to determine there is still fluid in his ear, Marie’s tonsils and adenoids are swollen which, after two years of monitoring, we need decided to have them removed.  When I asked if he had a BOGO deal or a springtime deal with buy one surgery get ear tubes half off, he laughed.  And then said no. 

2. We have decided to finally replace our fifteen year old carpet.  I thought that this would be a simple decision, but has sucked a lot of time from last week.  Samples, high-end carpet with low- end padding, low-end carpet with high-end, incorrect estimates, weird guys coming to the house without calling and then telling me to relax after they’ve interrupted precious nap time . . . yeah, a bit more drama than I anticipated.

3. We received the dreaded pink slip that indicates a child in the classroom has lice and check your child’s head for.ev.er.  (Well, they didn’t say forever, but it was implied).  So I have been loading the Fairy Tales products in Marie’s hair like crazy.  I even make my own lice repellant perfume courtesy of Aura Cacia’s essential oils and recipe.  (Yeah, I’m crazy like that).  I also wrote a huge email to Marie’s teachers that I don’t want her using the community ear phones for the computer.  They assured me they disinfected them, but not after every use.  Ick.  My head is itching just thinking about it.  And here’s the thing, I’ve been putting so much product in her hair that it flakes off.  Then I am in a panic: is it a nit?  Is it product buildup?  I JUST DON’T KNOW.  It’s crazy how much fear can be elicited by such a tiny bug.

4. I have been debating over the Galaxy S2 and iPhone 4s.  Researching, googling, YouTube, polls on Facebook.  I decided on the Galaxy.  Until I played with my brother’s phone as he artfully highlighted my hair.  My chest filled with dread as I knew I had made the wrong choice.  So I decided to go back to the store, return it, and get the iPhone.  If I had just gone with my gut instead of being talked out of the iPhone, I could have saved so much time.

5. Last week, we were hitting the play date circuit hardcore.  This also takes up a lot of time.

6. Hunger Games Trilogy.  Seriously, I have lost a ton of sleep, blogging time, and free space in my head to as I wonder how the hell Katniss is going to survive.  (Which I know she must and she will live happily ever after in an open marriage to both Gale and Peeta.  Please don’t tell me any different).  I love to read, and there are books that I could not put down.  But there is something inherently different about this series.  I haven’t felt this way about a series of books since The Babysitter’s Club. 

7. I suffered from a serious bout of the stomach flu.   Within hours, Harrington had it.  And then Marie.  And today, finally Nathan got it.  Thankfully, my Mom grocery shopped for us, and Harrington’s Mom helped us with The Babes.  On a related note, my neighborhood as well as those surrounding the area are suffering from the same thing (as in it was on the local news).

Seriously, number 7 was the icing on the cake.  (Which sounds disgusting.  Any food other than instant noodle soup, apple sauce, and popsicles sound disgusting).

On my sick bed, I was thinking that I was never going to be well again.  And if I was, I was never going to blog again because anything other than breathing sounded too hard.

But then I realized that I was being ridiculous.  And here I am.

Hope life is treating you better.  Please share your happy stories in the comment section.  I’d love to live vicariously through you right now.

Memories – A Rerun

Staying positive is important to me.  I work very hard at it. 

Very hard.

It’s not something that comes naturally to me.  Right before Christmas, I was on a good clip of love and light. 

I was working out, making good food choices, having fun with The Babes, and blogging.  Life was good.

And then January 1^st of 2012 came and blew my positivity streak to bits.  In case you haven’t been reading in a while you can catch up with how the first forty-eight hours of 2012 rolled into one bad month.

I was staying all positive, believing that February would be when 2012 was going to start to turn around.

Not so.

This Sunday, I lost a very special uncle.  I am very saddened by this, and my heart aches for my aunt.

I am going to celebrate his life and honor my aunt’s courageousness in taking such good care of him by rerunning this post I wrote about them when they moved to Arizona.

_________________________________________________________________

I used to hate Change.  Not just hate, but detest Change, cringe whenever things were not the same.  If Change were a person walking down the street, I would avoid all eye contact and ignore it. 

After having kids, I’ve learned to accept change.  Because whether I like it or not, it’s going to happen.  So Change and I became like Facebook friends; acknowledging each other but not really committing to a real relationship.  Eventually that relationship evolved, and I would say Change and I are pretty friendly with each other.  Especially when Change means less sleepless night.

However, there are certain circumstances when I want to revert to my prior relationship with Change and look away when it comes near.

Like when my Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned sold their house in Michigan to live in Arizona for six months.  I didn’t expect to become so emotional when I found out, but I did.  I have so many wonderful memories in that house.

Like the time when I was sixteen and home all alone overnight.  I thought I heard something, and they didn’t mind that it was midnight when I came over because I was scared.

I also learned to make golumpki (stuffed cabbage) from my grandmother’s recipe at her kitchen table.  I also gained a whole new appreciate for the effort put forth for our traditional Christmas entrée.

I will miss the Heritage Hallway.  There was a hallway filled with old pictures of my aunt and uncle’s family.  Whenever I would look at these photos, I felt connected to my family, especially my grandfather, who passed away long before I was born.

Aunt Nicki hosted my bridal shower at her house and worked together with my parents and other aunts and uncles to create a beautiful party.  And the next day, I went to Aunt Nicki’s house to visit with her and Aunt Karen.  I remember eating a giant bowl of cherries and just chatting with them.  Something so simple, but so memorable.

I also remember the time when Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned came over to see me after Marie was born.  She made homemade chicken soup and chocolate biscotti.  A few weeks later, she helped me bring Marie, only six weeks old, to get an ultrasound of her head.

I remember feeling totally comfortable dropping Marie off so Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned could watch Marie while I emptied out my former classroom with my Dad.  She was only 3 months old.

When Thomas was born, she came to see us and then dropped everything to watch Marie when there was a change in childcare plans.

I am not sure if Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned know how much those moments mean to me.

It’s like this part of me and my family story is moving away, and it makes me sad.  When someone in the family network moves away, left behind is a gap.  I look back at all those important times in my life and realize the richness they have added to my life.

So instead of being sad because she won’t be in that home anymore, I am going to adopt a new saying.  Instead of saying, “Home is where the heart is,” I am going to change it to “Heart is home to our memories.”  

That house is not theirs anymore, but it doesn’t matter, because we all still have those memories with us.  They have done so many nice things for me and my family that I want to show my appreciation and support by cheering them on in this new chapter of their life.

Because that’s what family does.

The Blog Post That Has Yet To Be

Remember when I wrote the blog post about my first 48 hoursof 2012?

I could rename it The First two weeks of 2012.

 I wrote a bit about it here at the Macomb Patch.

To sum it up, Thomas seems to be OK for now with his antibiotics and The Pink Eye.  Marie has to go back to the doctor because she ran out of antibiotics (or they didn’t give me enough), and she still can’t hear.  As for me, my antibiotics finally kicked in for my ear infection so that’s good.

But I have to say, when Mommy goes down, the whole house goes down with me.  It will take me about a week to uncover from all of this junk, let alone disinfect.

This is too bad because I had an awesome post ready to write about my thoughts on Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein.  My book club read her (per my suggestion and group vote), and it was an eye-opening look at the new girlie girl culture.  Have you read it yet?  What did you think?  I will be posting my thoughts next week.  (When I will have a break from running to the doctors’ offices and pharmacies).

So, I am sorry about this post.  Please come back next week when I return to my regularly scheduled life (which included writing regular blog posts).

Oh, and one more thing – I have tried installing Disqus and Intense Debate.  Neither one was installed successfully.  I really want threaded comments so I can easily interact with each reader.  I hear Blogger will be featuring threaded comments soon.  Do I have any other options?

Have a great day!

Quick, Random Thoughts*

This week is going to be crazy, but I am OK with that since is the Grand Finale of Birthday Season. And it’s kind of nice to end it with Marie’s 4th birthday. So I might not be as active in my comments or posts until next week. I am taking these 5 minutes of free time and write a quick post of my random and fleeting thoughts:

- I wish Thomas would develop another method of communication other than screaming, but I am proud of myself for keeping it together when he’s upset. And I am done beating myself up that I do not enjoy his screaming. I love him with all my heart, but I accept that I don’t like it when he screams. And that’s OK. On the upside, he’s mastered the sign for “more.” And he does really well in a restaurant. And I love how he loves to explore everything!


- I feel like my Random Acts of Kindness Chart is boosting morale around here. When someone does something nice, I write it on a star and put it on the chart. At the end of the week, we talk about some of the nice things we did. I feel this is more effective than giving a check if Marie is not practicing kindness. Also, since the whole family is involved, I feel like it helps everyone focus on the good in each other. It sounds so cheesy, but it works; at this point in my life I have adopted a “Whatever Works” philosophy.

- My dentist suggested I need a super expensive bite guard to stop me from clenching my jaw, which might stop my headaches. My mom suggested a glass of wine. My idea of a sabbatical is not practical. So what do you think: a bite guard or a glass of wine?


- I had fun watching the Babes both have fun at Barnes and Noble yesterday. Marie chose the location for her fun place for her birthday. May parents came, too. We then went out to lunch, and then went home for some downtime. For dinner Harrington and I took Marie and Thomas to McDonald’s. It’s a lot of work to go somewhere with the Babes, but once we get there, we have a blast.

- I am really excited for the mini-vacation I planned for us next month.

Well, that’s about all the brain power I have left for now. Some of these thoughts deserve a whole post, and I’ll get to that soon. I am really thankful for all the people in my life that I get to celebrate during birthday season, but I will be really thankful when things slow down a bit.

So, Friends, what’s going on with you?

*I did not even have time to proof this for any grammar or content mistakes. Please read with a forgiving eye!

The Eve of My 32nd Year

Tonight is the eve of my 32nd birthday. I love birthdays, even mine! I like the idea of aging and gaining wisdom. I also enjoy looking how far I’ve come and where I am heading. This particular year, I’ve been doing some thinking about relationships. I have come to the conclusion that because a relationship typically involves another party, it is a ludicrous expectation for me to do all the work in order for the relationship to exist.

So this birthday, I am giving myself permission to live this year with a new set of rules. I will only care my share’s worth in a relationship* and not care the other person’s amount. I will not compromise myself or my kids or what I deem as healthy boundaries so the other person is not inconvenienced. I am not going to take on all the responsibility so there is a relationship because then it really isn’t one, just the illusion of one. It was a sad day when I realized that some people just aren’t that into me and my kids, or just more into themselves, but either way . . . I can leave the door open, the windows propped up, and give you the code to my garage door, but I can’t make you walk in and want to be a part of my life.

So here’s to my 32nd birthday! Cheers!

*I understand relationships are not always 50/50, sometimes they are 80/20. 60/40, but they should never always be 90/10, 100/0.

Suck it, Marge!

Dear Marge:

This is Marie’s Mom, and if you don’t remember, she was a former patient of yours. She was diagnosed with macrocephaly at birth. When I was told that that was a big, fancy word for a big head, I didn’t think it was a big deal. The implications of that, along with a low tone diagnosis at 4months were when I realized that this was a big deal. That and the pediatrician recommended that she see a neurosurgeon for regular visits were a clue that something was not right. We discovered that she extra fluid around her brain (hydrocephaly) and was not sure if she would need a stint to drain it. We were not sure if she would have cerebral palsy because of her low tone. It was a very stressful time. At 9 months of age, she qualified for services. And that’s when you entered the picture as her first physical therapist.

She used to cry whenever you came over to work with her. You seemed to lack that gentleness that is helpful, if not necessary, to work with babies. It was hard for you to accomplish anything with her because she had a hard time not crying with you. You also asked me to leave the room since you attributed her crying to my presence, not your roughness and general crabby demeanor. Being a new mom, I stood in the kitchen peaking around the corner, watching my poor baby girl crying while you tried to execute your exercises. I endured that and a lot more because I was desperate for her to get better. However, what was most memorable about you is when you told me she would be destined to be a leaner because she would never have enough strength to always stand straight and that I would be lucky if she walked without braces and by the age of two.

Well, Marge, that little baby is now three years old. As she RAN into her classroom the first day of preschool, many things came to mind. Most were the normal things a mom of a “regular” kid would be thinking: I was so proud of her for being independent and brave. She looked so cute and happy. But then another thought ran across my mind, and it was, “Suck it, Marge!” I say suck it because here was this baby who you said wouldn’t walk until she was two and possibly with braces and she RAN into that room. And you know what? She RUNS everywhere, and she CLIMBES up the ladder to go down the slide. Oh, and she JUMPS, too! So, Marge, be careful what you say to new moms because it could wind up biting you in the ass. I understand you needed to be honest about Marie’s condition, but perhaps you could take some professional development classes on bedside manner because your ambivalence about her condition was heart wrenching to hear. And if I could, I would forward my therapy bill to you because you did a lot of damage with those comments and telling me to leave the room because my baby was crying because of me. She was crying because of you and your negative energy.

So, Marge, suck it! My baby girl is in preschool and doing great! No thanks to you, of course.

Yours truly,
Marie’s Mom

P.S. Tell Noelle her note about Marie’s “anti-social” behavior is coming soon!

Death by Fire or Water: Thoughts of a Worried Mom in the New Children’s Wing of Beaumont Hospital

Last Wednesday, I headed out to the new Emergency Room Children’s Wing of Beaumont Hospital. Right before “the incident” happened, I was just telling someone how well everything was going with Thomas. Then it was nap time, and he was a bit fussy, understandably. So I laid him in his crib because sometimes he just cries for five minutes and falls asleep. I was listening to the monitor, and all of a sudden I heard nothing. Then I heard thrashing and gasping. I ran in there and saw that he had vomit, not a little bit of spit up, but a whole tummy full of vomit all over. It was in his nose and mouth and he was pale as a ghost. Once he caught his breath, started to cry and then stopped crying, he was lifeless, despondent, and had a rattle in his chest. My doctor told me to go the ER since he may have aspirated on his vomit. I think my exact words after I hung up the phone were, “Holy fukc! I can’t believe it!” In my mind, I thought we had really turned a corner with the Dr. Brown’s bottles, the change back to Similac Early Advance Shield, and Mylocin gas drops. (And if any reps from these products would like to donate their products for free advertising, I would happily accept).

Thomas’s pulse oxygen levels were good, and he was eating fine. The doctor did not think he suffered a seizure (which freaked me out even more because that was not radar of things to worry about). As Harrington and I waited for his chest x-ray results, I cried. Not because I didn’t think Thomas wouldn’t be OK because my gut was saying he was going to be fine. But I cried because I felt sad that nothing about either one of my babe’s infancy has been easy. It has been death by water or fire.

Marie had been death by water. Because of her big head and low tone, we didn’t know if she was going to have cerebral palsy. We didn’t know if she would need leg braces and a walker. We didn’t know if she would need a shunt in her head for hydrocephaly. There were all these unknowns, and they weighed on me like someone had fit me for a pair of cement shoes and thrown me in a river. It was horrible and sickening and robbed me of almost any happiness that a baby brings. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think I did something to cause this and she was going to suffer for the rest of her life because of me. It was hard to push through and take care of her and her special needs. I literally felt like I was drowning.

When Thomas was born, I knew how important it is to live in the moment since I lost a lot of happy times with Marie worrying about her. When he was born, I was sooo in love with him the moment I saw him. When he nursed successfully right way, I thought we were out of the woods with any feeding issues. At six weeks, he had his first nursing strike. It was so scary because he would not stop screaming for over an hour and refused to eat. Every few weeks things, he would go on these nursing strikes. Then when he would eat, he would bob on and off. He wouldn’t get enough to eat or take in too much air, and then he would cry for 2 hour stints. This went on for all of July and most of August. So we tried a bunch of different things to see if they would work. Sometimes they did, and sometimes they didn’t. But the crying felt like I was dying by fire; this was an immediate problem that needed to be fixed NOW! Not a let’s-see-how-things-progress sort of manner, but a fix-this-now-DAMN IT! kind of manner. Not to mention Marie was starting to get really annoyed with all this crying and attention he was getting.

I cried because it’s not fair that I haven’t had an easy time. I know, I know; life is not fair. I was just hoping for a break. I think I need to adjust the way I look at things. Life, especially one with babies, is all about moments. There were a lot of moments in waiting to see if my baby girl was going to be physically handicapped and there were a lot of moments in a two hour block of crying. But they are all moments, and they all passed. And somewhere amongst all those heart-stopping, gut-wrenching moments, there were some happy ones in there too. If I really looked hard through my tired and puffy eyes.
When that moment of crying in the ER passed, I had some other random thoughts:

-Wow, this new wing is very nice. It is definitely not the same ER I took Marie to when she wouldn’t stop vomiting. The underwater theme is very soothing.

- Shit, I forgot to order the chicken for the Thomas’s christening party!
_____________________________
Afterword
Since that ER visit, Nathan has been doing better. I have not yet exhaled, though, because I am trying very hard to keep these good moments going. I ordered the chicken for the party which was three days after the ER visit. I don’t know how I did it, but the christening and the party with 25 of our closest relatives were a success. Go team!

How I barely* survived the annual golf outing.

*by barely I mean on almost no sleep, momentarily breaking down and crying all while sending my DH subtle texts to come early

Every year my DH has an annual golf outing with his college buddies in some remote area with limited cell phone reception. And without fail, every year, something happens in which results in a trip to the pharmacy and/or doctor. This time was no different except it was doubly hard since it was the first time with two kids. It all started out innocently enough with NT’s blood shot eye. I didn’t worry about it too much until it was there after his 2nd nap. Sure enough, when I looked, I saw a fingernail moon scratch. The doctor called in some medicine, and I had to see her the next day. So I had to pack up two kids for a 10 minute errand to get eye drops. This resulted in a NT’s first meltdown of the weekend which altered bedtime for the worse. Both kids like their one-on-one time at bedtime, except there was only one adult to go around.

The next day, I was super nervous about going to the doctor with both of them because I knew the test for the eye scratch would be intense, NT has a hard time eating when he’s upset and in a different place, and I promised GM we would go the water fountains at the outdoor mall. So after a full morning of packing lunches, bottles, bathing suites, and whatever else we would need for an afternoon outing, we arrived at the doctor’s office only 2 minutes late. As I predicted, he had a fit with the eye test, a fit when she looked in his ears to see if that was the reason for his fussiness, and he refused to eat. And the doctor confirmed that he had a scratch in his eye and that I had to come back in a week to make sure it was gone. Yeaa, I could hardly wait to repeat this horrific experience all over again except with all the anticipation of what to expect. All this was enough to make me sick to my stomach, so I packed the kids up and ran to the bathroom. This experience was made complete with Gwyn verbalizing what was happening so anyone within a foot of the bathroom was receiving a blow-by-blow account of my sensitive stomach. Once I got myself together, I tried to get out of there as soon as possible. Ah, but that was not in the cards either. Now we have been seeing this pediatrician since GM was born and never before had she been afraid of the undersea mural in the vestibule. If there was any day to be have a terrific meltdown, it was that day. She was hanging by the toys, and I thought she wanted to stay and play at the doctor’s office. So being impatient, I told her I’d call Nana and say not to meet us at the fountains. She scurried to the door, shrieked at the top of her lungs, and shook uncontrollably. At this point, with sweat dripping down my back, I think how am I going to get her and NT in the infant carrier out of here? I swoop up GM and put her on the sidewalk and quickly grab NT. I ask GM, whose eyes are totally dry, why she was upset and she serenely answers, “The undersea mural is scary.” Hmm. I had no idea.

So next, we met my mom at the outdoor mall for some fun. By fun I mean watching my 3 year old daughter try not to avoid any head-on collisions with the older, rougher crowd at the fountains and try not to break a limb (which would happen since DH was out of town) on the play structure. After two hours, she stopped what she was doing and yelled at the top of lungs with a look of despair in her eyes. That was my cue to leave. The man next to me said, “Wow! She sure can get her point across.” Yes, she sure can. Because I wanted some adult interaction, I had a crowd over for pizza. GM was all tuned up to be with her “people” or “Nana’s friends” as they are sometimes called (my aunt, brother, and his girlfriend). After dinner, I was exhausted, and I thought so were my babes. But not so much since NT woke up twice that night since his eating and sleeping was all off due to his traumatic time at the doctor’s office. And because NT woke up, so did GM which she usually doesn’t but I am guessing since Daddy was out of town, it was destined to be.

And here is where the real fun began. Since NT’s schedule was off, the whole day unraveled before my weary, tired, bloodshot eyes. I tried to make the weekend fun for us since DH was away. We planned on going to all of GM’s favorite spots like Barnes and Noble and the mall to go to the Disney Store and the merry-go-round. I planned on leaving right after lunch. But NT cried on and off for 2 ½ hours which enabled us from going anywhere on time. When he woke up from his nap (or passing out from crying too much) and didn’t eat, I lost it. I felt so disconnected with his needs, I felt like I was letting GM down, and I felt like I was a big damper on my parents. When I burst into tears, my Mom said in her self-proclaimed “stern voice” (which is considered “softly” yelling by most) that I had to stop crying, get myself together, and call my DH to get him home (the D at this point is not dear, more like damn). Now I am yelling at my mom to go home because I can handle this (which really was just a cry for help). GM is now yelling and getting me her favorite books to cheer me up. My mom also pointed out nicely that I was causing all this. I felt like a horrible mom. I still do. It was not my finest moment. In the end, I got it together and dragged us all over to have our fun adventure day as I told GM we would. I felt like Clark Griswold when he was determined to push through and have a merry Christmas: “We’ll have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny F-ing Kay!” And by the end of the day, we all made up because that’s how my family rolls.

The next day was like the ultimate redo, for the most part. NT slept well, GM and I had some quality time, and even had some time for a play date with the neighbor. However, that does not take away the traumatic three days before. After the babes went to bed, I told my DH as nicely as I could that I thought his timing sucked. He should not have left with NT being so unpredictable, especially without his own car. I thought he was being cheap by not wanting to eat the cost of his golf weekend when he saw how things were going with NT. I also thought he was being cheap by not wanting to pay for gas. And thankfully, DH got a sliver of a glimpse of what I went through those three days. I left for a 2 ½ hours to get away after he returned, and NT cried for half that time. How do I know? Because DH couldn’t make it without calling me and asking me what to do. Which I don’t fault him for because he did have NT’s best interest at heart.

But what would he have done if I was 5 hours away in a no cell phone reception area without my own car?

Who am I?

I am a current SAHM who is a junior high school teacher drop out. I used to teach English, Spanish, and an intro to French, Spanish, German, and Japanese. I always wanted to stay home with my babies, but being unhappy at my job made it easier to drop out. To be honest, I was burnt out from being a teacher. The school is in an upper-middle class area, and the students are filled with a sense of self-entitlement. Who could blame them? Counselors would ask me to change grades for those who were not happy. Administration would ask me to look the other way if parents lied for their child. I was told I had to teach kids responsibility . . . as long as the parents said it was ok. I was frustrated with the hypocrisy. Anyway, more on that for another post.

I now have two beautiful babes: my daughter, GM, is 3, and my son, NT, is 3 months. Although I love staying home now, I found the life style adjustment difficult which took me by surprise. GM gave me a run for my money. At birth, she was diagnosed with macrocephaly (a scary medical term for a big head) and low tone. We weren’t sure if she had hydrocephaly or cerebral palsy. We were told she wouldn’t walk until she was 2 years old. I spent most of her first year in a state of panic. We worked with a physical therapist and an occupational therapist, and she ended up taking her first steps at 15 months. Her neurosurgeon discharged her at 17 months stating that she was fine, but just has a big head. After I knew she was fine, I fell apart. I had suppressed all my emotions in order to focus on GM’s therapy. Thanks to my family and a wonderful therapist, I was able to pull through a very dark time, and all in enough time to start all over again. NT was born, and it has been a totally different experience. I think having some mommy experience has helped me feel more confident.

So having been married to my college sweetheart for almost 6 years and being a SAHM for 3 years, I struggle to modernize my traditional role; I want to be there for my family but stay in touch with myself. I choose the word struggle because it really is a struggle not to go into the downward spiral of not caring about myself and trying to stay in touch with a world outside of the Disney Channel. There have been times when I have been with my mommy friends, and even though I want to talk about our kids, I also want to talk about what is going on in other parts of our lives. Sometimes my attempts end up in blank stares or interruptions by the kids. Mommy on the Spot is the spot where I can talk about all things mommy related and beyond.

So that is enough about me. Check back soon to read some of my Mommy on the Spot observations on life and motherhood.