Projectile Vomit and Other Dark Moments of Motherhood

I am still recovering from the grossest incident I have experienced in my eight plus years of motherhood.

Poor Thomas had projectile vomit.  Although my recent creative online writing course would encourage me to use vivid imagery to show and not tell you just how disgusting our bathroom was, I will spare you the details.  I will say this: it was akin to a scene from Dexter.  Except I didn’t have the luxury of having laid down a protective layer of plastic to ensure easy cleanup.

Anyway, 24 hours later, and Thomas was fine.  In fact, he was better than fine; it was as if it never happened.

I, on the other hand, was still emotionally scarred on several levels.  Cleaning up that mess was beyond disgusting. (However, Thomas did note my efforts on a very affirmative note: “Hey, Mom.  Good job cleaning up in here.  It looks good.”  It’s nice to feel appreciated.)

And as I watched him sleep throughout the day, I felt scared.  He never gets sick – not even after that time we went to Disney World and he ate crumbs off of the restaurant floor and licked the bus seats. 

It was more than scared; I was in that dark place of being overwhelmed with responsibility of caring for Thomas, yet feeling helpless because there is only so much I can do.  It reminded me of when I was helping Marie through her health issues that I talked about in my Listen to Your Mother show.  

All of those guilty feelings came rushing back: I am not good enough. I should have been able to prevent this.  Why can’t I make this stop?

I was then up to all of my old tricks – washing my hands until they were raw.

 

Note the red gloves effect

But check out that nail polish.  I bow down to the magic of Vinylux.

 I bargained with myself that if I bleached the bathroom just one more time, maybe then I would feel like a good mom.  Sick and sad, I know.

It is frustrating to me that as much effort that I have put into working through my issues, it seems like they are just waiting to ambush me when I am feeling fragile.

But I’m wiser now, stronger, too.  I know that one of my biggest triggers is when my kids are sick.  I know that these guilty feelings are often laced with vicious lies.  I can’t prevent everything, and that by no means makes me a bad mother.  Determined not to drop my anchor in this ugly place, I just put one foot in front of the other and hope that the light will shine through soon.  This post by Momastery helped me move throughthis awful bout of mommy guilt by reminding me to be kinder to myself.  Wow, did I need to hear those words.

What is your trigger that makes you feel like you are not good enough? How do you move through it?

Whenever I feel like a bad mom or not good enough, I try to remind myself that there are pure moments of joy where I feel like I am doing it right.
This sleepover was one of those moments.

I love this quote by Arianna Huffington.  

My Sleep Deprived Rambles

I am newborn tired.  

You know that hazy, frustrated feeling that nights and nights of broken sleep deliver.  Between Thomas refusing to sleep in his bed because he feels crabby about being in his own bed and Marie hacking up a lung along with an ear infection, I feel so over-tired which then leads to becoming over-emotional which then leads me feeling depressed about everything from having to cook. another. meal. to the unsurmountable task of trying locate and pay medical bills.

I then end up screaming at the kids for something like bickering and refusing to get dressed.  I loose my focus and take twenty minutes to fold a load of laundry.  I then become confused why it is the afternoon and feel no sense of accomplishment.

Which is unfortunate because this has been a HUGE week for me!  I have a two-part series of raising boys with emotional literacy at The Mother Company.  A personal essay and an interview with Dr. Michael Thompson are both up and live so please please check them out and let me know what you think.  I have dreamed for writing for The Mother Company Ever since I met these amazing people two years ago at BlogHer!  I am just so excited about this!!

When I am not basking in the glow of my dream come true (which usually lasts 2.4 seconds before someone needs a snack or a drink of water or help with going to the bathroom), I am having some serious sleep deprived daydreams in which I fantasize about sleep and quiet.  I imagine that I get to sleep in a big bed with a fluffy, white comforter lots of pillows of varying firmness.  Alone.  As in by. my. self.  

I also envision myself taking a nap in a sound booth, like where my kids have had their hearing tested.  Why dream of a tropical beach when I can have peace and solitude in a sound-proofed room?  I think it goes without saying that I would want to be alone, right?

I am guessing by the nature of these fantasies that I am not only tired, but maybe in need of some me time doing some non-mommy stuff, no?

Does sleep deprivation make you *slightly* temperamental? 

If My Acne Could Talk

Marie is scheduled to have her adenoids and possibly her tonsils taken out this week.

This is a long time coming.  We have been monitoring her sleep apnea since this nasty incidenthappened almost two years ago.

Since then, she’s been on meds to reduce the swelling of her adenoids and tonsils.  She’s been off her meds to see what happens.  She has been sick pretty much the whole winter.  (And when I look back at all the pictures since she was three, she has had a little red mustache starting from Christmas until after Birthday Season).

I have taken her to a special orthodontist to ensure her excessive mouth breathing isn’t causing any issues with her teeth.  She has also had to go to the dentist to scrape the buildup off from her teeth caused by excessive mouth breathing and the steady flow of antibiotics.

Enough is enough, and the ENT thinks it’s time for surgery.

Usually, I am pretty cool about these things.  I put my feelings into a vault so that I can be the reliable source of comfort to my child.

But to be honest, I. Am. Freaking. Out.  I am not sleeping well.  I am panicky and snappy.

I may think that I am fooling everyone that I look calm about this “minor procedure” (which, anything involving an anesthesiologist and a surgeon with a knife is never minor to me), but I don’t think so.

One look at my face and the teenage-like acne that has sprouted all over is a clear indication that I am not fine.

Seriously, if this acne could talk, it would say a lot.

It would say that this “minor procedure” (did I mention it’s outpatient?  How ridiculous is that?!) is bringing up a lot of scar tissue.  When Marie was born, she was born with macrocephaly, which is fancy for “big head.”  Although that doesn’t sound threatening, it did results in a slew of head ultrasounds, an MRI, and lots of physical and occupational therapy.

And lots of therapy for me, too.

For the first 18 months, we didn’t know what was wrong with her.  That’s a long time to live with your child’s health up in the air.

I can’t say that I ever totally worked through those feelings.  I have a better understanding of my feelings, but something like that changes a person forever.  I would say there is a little place inside me where those feelings stay all wrapped up in a box sitting on a shelf.  I don’t really think about them all that often.

Until something like this happens.

And it’s not like I can just check out for a while until I feel less agitated with worry.  Oh, no.  The show must go on.  I must wake up.  I must get lunches made.  I must make sure Marie gets ready for school.  I must make sure Thomas doesn’t watch too much TV to ensure his brain doesn’t turn to mush.

As if a plain ol’ day of motherhood wasn’t draining enough, add something like a “minor surgical procedure” into the mix and suddenly, drinking a cup of coffee seems like too much of a chore.

It’s exhausting, really.

Just ask my acne. 

If you have any words of wisdom about powering through a tough time like this, I would greatly appreciate them. 

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.

Tribes

As you know, January has not been kind to neither me nor myfamily.  My poor Marie has hearing loss due to the horrible ear infection.  A rushed appointment to the ENT confirmed that it is not permanent.  She is not sleeping well.  She is emotional.  If I was sick for over thirty-two days, I would be a basket case, too.

Poor Thomas has a cold that won’t quit (and I am keeping my fingers crossed it doesn’t cause the fluid in his ears to become infected).

And that’s just what is going on under my roof.  Never mind the roofs of my family.  But that’s for another time.

I am overwhelmed. 

I am frustrated.

I am sad.

Motherhood. Is. Hard.

 Raising kids can be extremely isolating both logistically (like when they are sick and no one wants your icky germs) and philosophically (like when people don’t always share the same sentiments on behavior or kindness).

But lurking out there, in the places I least expect it and even under my own nose, I think I found some of my tribe members.   

I am rerunning this post because it serves as a reminder that I am not alone (neither online or in real life) in my philosophy of raising good people. 

Have a great Thursday!

 __________________________________________________________

On Raising Boys

Three years ago, I cried when I learned that I was pregnant with a boy.

Not tears of joy.  Tears of fear.  I was afraid that I would not know how to raise a boy.  Afraid that Marie would never be close to her brother and would feel alienated as the only girl among her brother and all-boy cousins.  Fear that our family would be divided as the boys went with the boys and the girls went with the girls.

In addition to all these fears swirling around my head, *everyone* was telling me just how challenging raising a boy would be.  Family and friends would go on and on and on about how easy I had it with Marie and how hard it was going to be with a boy getting into everything. 

After the initial shock, I analyzed each fear and found the root was within my own experiences.  I have had a tumultuous relationship with my own brother, and I often felt left out because my boy cousin and brother were so close.  In Harrington’s family’s, the boys went to hockey with the boys, and the girls stayed home.

After I wrapped my mind around these fears, I resolved that these experiences, though mine as I was growing up, are not my family’s destiny.

As soon as I laid eyes on my little boy, I fell in love. I felt all those magical, lovey feelings that everyone talks about, but I had never experienced (Marie’s birth was so traumatic).  As my son’s personality emerged, I could see that he was both more assertive and more vocal than Marie.

Now at two and a half years of age, his tantrums are Off. The. Charts.  My patience has reached its edge, as they say in yoga, and I understand how a parent can become unglued and yell at their toddler. 

But I am trying to find the strength to shelve my first reactions so that I can teach him a more positive way to express his emotions.  I want to nurture his fiercely independent spirit. 

But this route of emotional literacy?  Is far from being easy.  And sometimes it can be a lonely path. Fortunately, I met The Mother Company this year at BlogHer.  I did a review awhile back about their show, Ruby’s Studio, which helps parents teach emotional literacy.  I was happy to find a partner in the philosophy of raising good people.

As I struggle to maintain my cool in these intense situations, I try to remember it’s all a series of moments.

Thomas’s last two-minute time out seemed like an eternity. He kept getting off his marker and yelling at me that I was a bad mommy for turning off the TV.  There were a lot of moments in those two minutes.

I was angry and hurt.  And it took work not to react. 

After the time out, I explained it’s OK to be mad.  I told him that he can say, “I feel frustrated.”  I made sure to say that it’s not OK to say you hate mommy; we practice kindness.

Once we settled down for a story and cuddle time before a nap, I said, “It is hurtful when you say you hate your mommy.  Can you tell me what it looks like to practice kindness?”

Thomas said in a serious voice, “I don’t like taking naps.”

 I felt the clouds parted and heard a choir of angels burst into song!  A year of my practicing kindness mantra may have finally clicked!

I replied that it must be frustrating to have to do something you don’t want to do, but taking naps is part of being healthy and strong.  And he seemed OK with that.

I am hoping that he felt heard because it is my belief that teaching emotional literacy means practicing empathy.  I believe that people, regardless of age, just want to be heard.  I know that when I feel heard in a disagreement, I feel less defensive and more willing to be empathetic.

I am also not going to accept some antiquated standard that “boys will be boys,” implying bad behavior is accepted. 

Boys have emotions, and emotional literacy is not gender specific.  It is human specific. 

It’s my job as his mother, a job both frustrating and infinitely rewarding, to raise this person, tantrums and all. 

But after the glimmer of hope that shone through today, I feel that I can move forward with a bit more confidence.

So tell me; what are your thoughts on raising people?

This Month Has Been Brought to You by the Following:

Can you believe that February begins this week?  Can you believe that January is just about over?

Thank you, Baby Jesus!  This has been The. Longest. Month. EVER!

Remember when I started out the month by detailing by firstforty-eight hours?  And then I wrote a post for Macomb Patch that talked more about this month?

Well, for those you are keeping tabs, my Babes have been sick for over thirty days!  THIRTY DAYS!!  It’s hard not to take this personal when I try to disinfect everything.  (Save your breath if you are going to tell me that’s the problem.  Because I have already thought of that and am reconsidering my strategy for my war against germs).

Marie has had an ear infection since January 1^st.  The fluid won’t drain, and because she keeps on getting cold after cold, the fluid becomes reinfected.  Thomas has the nastiest cold I have seen in a long time, and if the fluid that is remaining in his ear does not get infected, then it will be a miracle.

In other news, my Dad’s COPD landed him in the hospital.  This is not good on many levels, but the level I feel the most is that we have to be careful about what germs we bring around him since he is still recovering from bronchitis.  And to add to that, my uncle is very sick.  I am going to be traveling out West soon to help my aunt take care of him.

Did I mention that I had an ear infection as well?  Or that Harrington has a man cold and a broken wrist from playing hockey?

I feel that I should put a sticker on the minivan indicating it is a shuttle to any and all local healthcare facilities.

*sigh*

So I can safely say that January has been brought to you by the following products*:

Up and Up Dye-Free Children’s Allergy Relief (code for Benadryl): I don’t even want to guess how many fluid ounces of this stuff The Babes have ingested.

Antibiotics: Three rounds for Marie.  One round for Thomas and me.  Thanks, Marie Curie, for your wonderful invention. Having said that, I hope that we are done for a while.

Yogurt: I bought a case of organic yogurt to counteract all the antibiotics. (I saved a whole $1.65 by buying it in bulk).  Another plus – the dairy guy at the grocery store is totally cute.  I, however, look the opposite in my yoga pants and two-day old dirty hair under a cap.

 Humidifiers:  I am surprised that the paint is not peeling off the walls yet.  I think we are turning the bedrooms into steam saunas.  And because I spare no comfort to my Babes, they have been enjoying eucalyptus-scented steam.

Ice Cream: Because sometimes a glass of wine just doesn’t measure up to the comfort that a big bowl of ice cream offers.

Coffee: None of this would be possible without coffee.  I am back to my afternoon cup(s) because I am tired.  Not just a bit tired.  Ex.Hausted. After thirty-one days of managing illnesses, I am losing my mind. 

February, please, please be good to me and my family. 

Please.

How has your first month of 2012 been?

*I was not paid to mention any of this stuff.  Obviously.  I think we know each other well enough to know I would totally say I got paid.