Sweet frigging Saturday

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I am definitely feeling the wave of calmness today, thank GOD. We took it really slow this morning. It was so nice to not have to have a full agenda. I let the girls play games on their tablets for an extra hour and then decided to surprise them with some baking. They lovvvve to bake. It's a dash of elbowing each other out of the way, sprinkled with, "it's my turrrrrrrrn" followed by a generous cup of my stern voice barking the rules of the kitchen. The pictures I sometimes take suggest otherwise but I know the real story. Who's had the mixer for too long, why did SHE get to put in the vanilla?! Of course all the while I'm monitoring for any licking of fingers - those offenders are sent to the sink for the eighth time. All in all I do enjoy it. We'll have these memories forever... Sinatra in the background, their little ice cream aprons. Pretty sweet. 

I had some time to myself while they were actually playing together nicely. I used it to tie up a few loose ends and then got in some good guitar practice. Currently working on power chords and finger picking. Not together of course. I'm also putting together different chord progressions to start writing some songs which I am really looking forward to. I love having different creative outlets like writing, graphic design and music. I try to fit at least one of those in each day but it's always great when I can get to all three! 

The girls played outside most of the afternoon and I am happy to report there was only ONE tattle-tale incident! Normally I hear that sliding door open and a voice yell, "She just pushed me out of the playhouuuuuuuse!" or "I was using a stick and she took it and threw it at meeeeeeeee!" And I'm purposely dragging out those words so you can HEAR the singsongy voice that they use to yell these tales. Some days only a minute or two passes before that door slides open once again. And those are the days where I lose my shit. They are ordered inside to sweep the dirt that came out from under their shoes and they are sent upstairs to learn how to play together without fighting. Ahhh, memories of my own childhood. 

But today was a good day! I thought I should share that with you because we've had a lot of not so good days lately. Collectively. I'm hoping that you found some peace today too. That your slider didn't burst open over and over ruining your groove. I'm savoring this weekend like none other... and we still have TOMORROW!!! 

Cheers! 
xo 

The groove

Hello again. How are you feeling on this gloomy Monday? We've just been told about the schools being closed through April, but we pretty much knew that was coming. We are doing ok over here. The girls' school work is becoming a bit easier to sort and maintain. We've designated certain areas for work to be done, finished work and a place for all of the daily school supplies needed. They both seem to have accepted that this is how things are for now. We are all doing our best to make everything feel as normal as possible. Abnormally normal. Counting our blessings every day! 

It was a pretty good weekend here. Very productive yet restful and quiet. We listened to the new Pearl Jam album which I like a lot, made a nice  Italian meal and got outside a bit. Capped it all off with a pretty decent thunderstorm last night that had Rummy (our cat) and Scarlett on edge. She tried to play it cool like the thunder was "distracting her" from her nightly reading but I got her number. I also started watching Castle Rock which I was sucked into from the start. I lovvvve Stephen King and I feel like I've been waiting for something like this since I was ten. Looking forward to ending each night with an eerie little episode or two. Check it out if you haven't already and are into that sort of thing.

Oh, wonderful! Daisy just broke up the day by renting two My Little Pony movies from the Fire Stick. Thanks, Dais! I felt like pissing away $10 and fooling with the parental control settings this afternoon. Worth noting: there are at least seventeen thousand other My Little Pony movies that she could've viewed for zip. Upside? She's actually watching the movie and being still.

I guess I'll end here for today. I hope you are all adjusting and finding this week to be less stressful and a little more easy going. Keep a positive attitude, look for the silver linings, hug a care bear or whatever. Just don't let it get you way down. It's not forever! 

xo 

Tomorrow we're starting fresh!

Well, here we are. Day 7 of home schooling. I'd say it's going as expected. There are a lot of emails. A lot of assignments. There's a lot of searching for a pencil with an eraser. Followed by a lot of searching for an eraser. (Didn't we all buy like thirty pink erasers at the beginning of the school year?! I bet they're all piled up in an old vitamin container in Scarlett's room). There are lessons in not coloring with a highlighter. Repetitive teaching moments showing Daisy how to properly hold her scissors. There's a lot of running from the bedroom to help Scarlett on the computer to the dining room to explain worksheets to Daisy and back again. There is some regret over not having a laptop... or an iPad. Some pondering over whether to buy another whole bunch of school supplies. Agonizing over whether I'm driving them too hard or not pushing enough. A bunch of complaining ... by all of us, ultimately ending up in OK, we are done for today, go outside and run around!

Pause. Take a breather. Regroup. Watch them play. Laughing on the swings. Running around the yard. Falling down the hill. Throwing gravel. Some yelling. Oh, Daisy's crying. She's hit her head again. We blow her nose and back she goes. It was after this that I saw an opportunity to put a little patch on our day. I went outside with a tennis ball and the three of us played catch for forty minutes. I expected maybe ten or fifteen but they were so engaged they just wanted to keep at it! I was more than happy to play, it was one of my favorite things to do when I was a kid. We will certainly be adding more activities like that into our curriculum.


These days have been challenging but after the tense moments I remind myself that this is difficult. It's difficult for everyone. The stress of what is going on in the world is enough to wear us down mentally. Adding new mandatory tasks and routines creates extra tension. Our children, who may seem like nothing is worrying them, are trying to figure out their new normal. Why can't they leave the house? Why aren't they allowed back at school? Why can't they see their grandparents? When can they play with their friends again? Why the hell are they constantly wearing pajamas!? How LONG is this going to last? The answers aren't easy for any of us to hear. I'm sure it's all taking a toll on their fragile minds. Scarlett is a deep over-thinker, a bit of an anxious kid, and she's quiet about it. (Until about 9:20 pm when she's ready to host a two hour interview about my childhood). So, tomorrow we are going a bit easier. We will get all of the work done but without the rigidness. I will try harder to not let my stress level spill out in the form of sighs. I will try to channel the patience of a teacher. I'll probably eat more Cadbury mini eggs. Those are on my list of "essentials" with good reason. I vow to better plan our day to cut back on whatever is making it feel like a rusted out roller coaster track with that one cart in which the seat belt was cut clean off.

We will alllllll figure it out! It's going to be just fine in the end. That's a fact.

You can always feel free to vent to me about your stressful days, we are in it together, friends! Keep going!

xo

Hello again!

Hi friends!

I just blew the dust off of this old blog! It's been a WHILE... and to be honest, I've been sitting here for over 20 minutes trying to figure out how to change up the formatting a bit and I've had zero success. Haha. Blogger has changed quite a bit since my last go. Also I've forgotten how some of these things work in my older age. SO, until I feel like renovating the entire thing we will just continue in the old familiar. You all couldn't care less about a font choice anyway, right? (Why is it so small?? Ohhhhh, because my eyesight has also changed quite a bit since my last go).

So... WHAT'S NEW??

You can feel my smirk I'll bet.

Ugh. I'm assuming the lot of you are reading this from the comfort of your home. You know, what with the Global Pandemic and such. I hope you are all faring well during these insane times. We are holding it down over here. Gregg is still working at this time and I am home with the two young'ns. They are both missing school much more than I would've ever thought! Scarlett received school work all week long and I made sure that Daisy had a few daily worksheets to keep her from feeling left out. She is getting her REAL school work tomorrow. And so we begin our new temporary normal.

I give so much credit to all of our amazing teachers who, in a pinch, figured out how to make virtual learning readily and easily available to all. Well done! I also want to thank every single healthcare worker, grocery/retail/restaurant worker, first responder and anyone who isn't sitting in a recliner right now due to playing a necessary part in keeping our world moving. Forever grateful.

All that being said... I'm feeling a little strange these days. Can't fully explain it. Not scared. Not really sad, although the thought of missing some special events and days - like my father's upcoming 70th birthday, Easter dinner with the family and Scarlett's first communion have me a bit deflated. Last week was an ANXIOUS time. I read way too many articles about Covid-19 (so I could sift through them all and figure out what I believe to be the real deal) and was setting up online schoolwork for Scarlett, trying to make the girls' days feel somewhat normal while passing out snacks every thirteen seconds and coming up with new crafts and new couch forts. I marveled over the fact that toilet paper was sold out across the country because some people are straight insane. I worried about limited trips to the grocery store and all of these small businesses that will have no choice but to close their doors. I was suddenly thrust into a world of Zoom lessons and Face Time sessions. All of which make me incredibly uncomfortable. I realize these are great options to keep socialization going... but I also realize my level of social participation has declined some over the years! These new orders asking the public to stay home made it crystal clear to me that I am very, very, very good at being home. I spent fifteen straight years spending the least amount of time at home as humanly possible - only to have children and realize home is the bees knees. Don't get me wrong, I do love sitting around a table with friends and a couple of drinks, listening to music and laughing for hours. But those nights are few and far between and I actually LIKE it that way. I think it makes me appreciate those times even more! I find myself often making plans and then when the day comes I almost DREAD it. That sounds so awful, I know. I guess I've become a true introvert. Or maybe I've always been an introvert but didn't realize it due to the amount of alcohol I consumed in my younger years. Who's to say? Nowadays, I'm a gal who enjoys her leggings and beat up "house hoodies," ambient light and The Golden Girls on the screen. That is how I unwind at the end of the day. Not quite a hermit yet... but a lot closer to an 80 year old than I would've guessed I'd be at this point. I do fill a lot of my time with independent, yet enriching activities. Graphic design, creative writing and playing guitar. It's this trio that has transformed my life and given me such a satisfied soul. You know when you feel like something is missing? I found what was missing. And I now do those things as much as possible.

One last thing I would like to share...

I MIGHT loathe You Tube toy videos even more than a tuna sandwich. And man do I hate tuna. WHO STARTED THESE VIDEOS!?!?!?!! The voice that I hear coming out of that television right now??? Stop. Just STOP IT. Why do my children want to WATCH some kooky-ass lady, who probably has an Apple Brown Betty burning in the oven, unwrap and play with little figures and playsets!?!?!?! It is maddening!!!!

Anyway, I hope you all find things that satisfy your soul in these uncertain times...

Stay well, friends!
xo

Ahhhhh, summertime once again...

And so it begins.

The long, bright days filled with popsicles and playgrounds, swimsuits and sleepovers, cookouts and camp-outs. Yeah, no, we only do about 1/3 of those things. And I'm actually terrible at math so that figure is probably generous. Or stingy. Whichever.

Summertime is, of course, when the majority of people pack up the ol' Subaru and head to the shore for an eight hour day of family fun memory making. I imagine these people tossing a beach ball or frisbee, eating watermelon wedges, gleefully splashing each other in the waves and laughing the day away. They might stop for ice cream or a quick dinner at the clam shack on the ride home and after showers they pile into a big bed for a movie night complete with popcorn and junior mints. Sounds dreamy.

We do it slightly different over here. First off, if I am even toying with the idea of a beach day I keep that thought to myself for at least three days. That way I can spend a very fair chunk of my time agonizing over every single detail of how this plan could all go down. Do the girls' bathing suits fit properly? Do we need coverups? Does anyone even wear coverups anymore? Can Daisy handle flip flops in the sand? Maybe she should wear water shoes. Yeah, idiot, that's what you bought them for, isn't it? Should we bring the big cooler? I don't even know where their sand toys are. Time to start stalking the beach forecast and tide chart and what about the seaweed factor. Do the beaches have those little bugs like last year? Vomit. What will we bring to eat? Scarlett only eats PB&J so that's just gonna attract all the bees. We need a new umbrella. Am I wearing a bathing suit this year or should I go with my Dickie's jumpsuit? 
And so on.

This goes on pretty much right up until we've got the car packed. The girls, just giddy with excitement, have forgotten how LONG they perceive the ride to be. We will all be reminded of that in a short while. Someone will have to pee on the ride down. I will, for sure due to the previously guzzled six cups of coffee, but I'll keep it to myself until we get there. The bathroom is always a fun treat. Daisy touches every single disgusting surface possible and somehow always manages to put her bare ass on each restroom floor that we encounter. Scarlett remains horrified by hand driers so she just bolts the second she shuts the faucet - regardless of who is indisposed. I'm still slightly sketched out by the giant hole toilet but that's a story for another day.

We manage to make our way to the sand - Gregg doing the majority of the lugging but my shoulders are heavy with bags. I always picture John Candy in Summer Rental as we are navigating that beach. Clumsily maneuvering our way around colored sheets and sandcastles. No matter how early we leave the house we are always disappointed by the number of beachgoers who've scored the best spots. Because I've done my homework I know what that tide is up to so we choose an appropriate place to plop. Umbrella in. Blankets down. Chairs positioned. We did it!

Now, the amazingly peaceful and glorious beach days of my youth are so far in that rearview mirror I can hardly smell the Coppertone anymore. When you bring two little girls to the beach you're not sitting in that little sand chair. Not for ten seconds. Surprisingly BOTH girls love to be in the water. They really don't agree on anything so this is pretty amazing. Neither know how to swim so they require an adult at all times. I do remember that as a kid, you couldn't get me out of that water. The "wait thirty minutes after you eat" rule was such torture. I would swim and flip and play in those waves for hours at a time. LOVED the ocean. Now? I'd rather not go thigh deep. The idea of creatures in the sand, pinching and squirming. Nasty seaweed. The possibility of those gross bugs that cling to your skin. And now that we know that the shark population is growing in these parts (YAY!) I'll just enjoy those headlines from my living room chair. I love me a shark but would lose my shit if I saw a fin within a mile of my sea-covered shins. Clutching the hand of a daughter I wade uncomfortably trying not to let on that I'd rather be back at the blanket. Thank God they're still small so we can't go any deeper. The squeals of joy from the girls are hands down the best part of the day. Well, that and the grapes. I'm always so glad I remember to bring grapes. We let the girls splash and play for a bit then try to coax them into making sandcastles so we could possibly sit for a few minutes. That only lasts a minute or two before they realized they've been duped and the water is where its at. Drat.

We spend a few hours that way. Splashing, snacking, swatting horseflies, hitting the restroom etc. Daisy is usually the one to crack first. She starts to let us know in some super fun ways that she is done for the day and we start the joyous task of packing it alllll back up. Why do we even take sand toys? They literally only used one bucket and one cup. Remember this for next year. The chairs are harder to close up, the umbrella doesn't fit back into the cart, wet towels are heavier, sand has grown hotter. The walk back to the car is a real blast. My feet are burning!!! How far is the car?? This is a long walk!  Can we get Brickley's? Pleeeeeeease? I'm so hungryyyyyy. Repeated by the two little ones about seventy thousand times. We find the car, shake out our blankets and do our best to dust off the kids before locking and loading them. We ultimately drive to the Brickley's lot which we had planned to do all along but were soured on the idea after all of the "requests." The post ice-cream ride is far worse. Both girls reeeeeeally need a nap but refuse to close an eye. How come the sun is always on MY side??? I'm hottttttttt. I don't want to take a shower. Can we get Del's? Why are we stopped?? What are we having for dinner?  

Ahhhh. Home at last. Time to rela... wait, nope. Not yet! Let's first unpack alllll of the sand covered crap, let's clean out the cooler and toss that moist, disgusting trash, let's bathe the two crankiest children on the planet, let's start a load of laundry, let's finally get ourselves cleaned up. NOW it's time to rela... "I'm HUNGRY!!!!!!"
Son of a.

That's the 'beach day' we've had in past years. There was no frisbee tossing. Do people even do that anymore? Or is that from some random '80s Tom Cruise movie? There was no watermelon wedge. There certainly wasn't a movie night because our kids don't like to watch movies and because bedtime could not have come any sooner. Hey, we tried. We got the ice cream and we had some gleeful splashing. I'm not about to do the fractions on that but I guess it was pretty decent after all. Any day now the pleas for a beach day will ring throughout the house. I should probably dust off that bucket and cup.

xo

Interruptions well worth it

I'm having a moment, and I have these often, where I just feel like I absolutely must write something but once I sit down in front of my keyboard my eyes look far past the screen into the deep corners of my brain and I unconsciously travel to a thought in which...

Never mind. Daisy just entered the room and asked me thirteen times, "what is the wish that you choose... and what are those? What are those two things? What are those two pink things up there? On that shelf, Mommy. When you get up you can see them." (She's referring to two wrapped birthday gifts that are not for her). Sigh. I love her dearly and all of her daylong chatter and her bright questions and adorable little face and the sixteen games of Hello Kitty UNO we just played but man alive, can I get ten minutes? Can I get five?? Shoot.

This is inevitably what happens every time I start a new blog post. Which is why you see my posts maybe twice per year. There was a time when I would write daily. And it meant a lot to me to do so. Whether in blog form or journal. Now I'm best on a post-it-note. Something like this:
Rummy - vet
Glasses
Bedding.

Gives you chills, doesn't it?

Well, hey, we can't hold on to our hobbies and favorite pastimes forever, right? At least not during the first, say, six years of your child's life anyhow. You may be wondering why I don't just plop down and write after the kids go to bed at night. That's a good thought. But that isn't my creative time anymore. That's the time when I need things to entertain me because I've been sapped of all creative power since about 7 pm. So reruns of The Golden Girls coupled with a few pages of a Mindy Kaling book and I'm happy as a clam... until I fall asleep mid-enjoyment thus ruining my "me-time" (and I absolutely despise that term by the way but that's neither here nor there).

"I want to take my belt off but I can't!!!!!!!.... Oh, never mind, Mommy. You can wear this belt... cuz I don't want to wear it..... It looks like a necklace." {Places the "necklace belt" right on top of my mouse}.

Back to my nonsensical train of thought. Where wasn't I? ...

"Mommy, when I hold my eye with a hand it only leaves one eye open! Wanna see me do it? And it goes back up again!!"

I love her. Daisy is just amazing. She's the sweetest, most thoughtful and caring and selfless child. Her heart impresses me. Truly. She's currently learning to read and she's doing really well. It makes her so proud, she smiles the whole time. Watching her sound out those words are some of the best moments of each day. Her will is super strong. Which is incredibly challenging most times but comes in handy a lot too. It has been a true pleasure to be home with her these past few years. She will be starting school in the Fall and she's SO excited about it. I hope it's everything she hopes for.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have an UNO rematch to attend with my little charmer.

"Alexa, play 70's rock."

Despite our wiring...

I was at Scarlett's friend's birthday party today and, without Daisy there to keep me running and worrying, I was free to think about random nonsense for a little while. I stood, arms folded, just watching calmly. Scarlett was off bouncing with her friends and I was chatting with other parents who had a bit of freedom themselves. We started discussing how certain things in our lives have changed since having children. Mainly the stress level, the worry factor and the seemingly endless guilt. But also how we try so hard to teach our kids how to be wonderful people... despite their wiring. I know I'm still trying to be a wonderful person despite MY wiring. I'm as stubborn as they come, I hold grudges, I worry about ridiculous things and I over-think overthinking. It's just who I am, love it or leave it.

I will dissect a situation that is months away, study its pieces, agonize over the unchangeable, glue the pieces back into a ball of stress, occasionally chip tiny bits from it whilst trying to fall asleep one night only to inevitably arrive at said situation and have the most pleasantly carefree time ever. All unnecessary pre-worry. And when someone tells me, "Don't worry about it, you can't change it, it is what it is, leave it at that" it actually makes me defiantly-worry. Like I'm going to get some sort of satisfaction by showing you that I can worry and it'll be for a good reason. Complete loon.

As for the guilt thing, I don't know how it happened but shortly after Scarlett was born I just gained a new feeling. Aside from the C-section numbness in my gut I had this lovely pool of guilt that took up space in my brain... or is it in my heart? Tough to tell. I am forever questioning myself. Even with something as magical as Christmastime! I move that damned elf every night to see the awe and wonder in the eyes of my girls each morning and then feel that PIT of guilt because I'm being sneaky and "tricking" them. I felt guilty writing that sentence. It never ends! Guilt for not putting Scarlett in her dance class holiday showcase. Guilt for not letting her go to every birthday party she is invited to. Guilt for not taking her to ride her bike much. Guilt for sending cereal for most of her school lunches. Guilt for buying her the greek yogurt with added sugar. Guilt for not having many new things for Daisy and relying mostly on her big sister's hand-me-downs. Guilt for not having a big birthday party at our home for Daisy because it is in January unlike Scarlett's usual backyard bash in September. Guilt for putting Daisy down for a nap early sometimes because I just need a break. Guilt for not forcing the girls to eat more vegetables and serving lots of eggs and pancake dinners. BLAH!! I'm not having it. If only some  feelings had off switches.

I know I'm not really doing anything wrong. I know it's my wiring. I know I'm giving my one thousand percent every single day for these kids. I try as hard as I possibly can to mold the girls into caring, respectful, well-rounded, well-read people. I worry, I stress, I make pancakes. But I also spend time reading with them every single night. I draw and color with them at our table. I play silly games and make up crafts and answer as many questions as my brain will allow. I teach them about kindness and being grateful and about traditions. I discuss anti-bullying and inclusion on a regular basis. I tell them nobody is perfect and we can't help but to feel what we feel. I do my best. I hope for them to do their best. Despite our wiring our hearts are good. And we continue to walk our path...

The madhouse..

I'm currently listening to the sound of my washing machine swishing soapy water around the filthy straps that came out of the high chair just moments ago. I'm simultaneously pondering when the hell I will be able to put away that high chair for good. I mean Daisy is going to be THREE in January. If you try her in a booster seat with no belt she just flat out will not sit still. She gets up and down thirty-nine times while eating a grilled cheese sandwich. I gave it three days last month. Tried it out. She's the kid that just does not listen. I don't mean like, Ohhhh she's so stubborn she just likes to do things her way. I mean like SHE DOES NOT LISTEN. This kid is the definition of defiant. She has been raking her fingers over the television screen for a solid year now. She has been throwing her dish and cup across the table (or the room) when she's finished with every meal and wants the world to know it. She takes sips of milk or water and spits them out into her bowl and makes "potions." The word NO means absolutely nothing to her. She jumps off the couch. She goes near the stove. She touches everything you tell her not to touch because it's super hot and then announces, "that's hot." She constantly pulls away when you hold her hand and you end up hauling her thirty-five pound ass all over town. This child is adorable and sweet and thoughtful and truly caring but she is a MENACE.

I can't help but wonder how the ol' living room Christmas tree scenario is going to play out. "Daisy, don't touch the ornaments!" Crash. Smash. Glass. Tears. Blood.

The funny thing is that we thought LAST YEAR was something to worry about! She wasn't even two yet and while we still did plenty of guiding her away from things and giving her the low down on what's acceptable and what's non negotiable she's completely upped the anti this past year. Every so often Gregg and I will look at each other and say, "I cannot believe she is STILL doing this!"

You can imagine how fun it is when you throw Scarlett into the equation. "NO DAISY!!!!" is on repeat. Scarlett is a bit short in the patience department to begin with so we have a blast most days. I can honestly admit that during the hours of 5:30 pm and 7:00 pm we completely lose our minds, pray loudly for bedtime and come dangerously close to just walking out of this madhouse leaving them to fend for themselves. On a regular basis. It leaves me wondering what life is like in friends' houses. Do they go through the wild animal hours every night? Is everyone with children on the brink of insanity ninety percent of the time? Does your six year old scream at the top of her lungs that your youngest just threw up all over the place and is about to step in it so you go rushing up the stairs because your husband is in the bathroom and you find two tiny dots of puke that only came out because your little one got worked up after the six year old accidentally kicked her in the head? No? Just me? Eyeroll.

It's not very easy, is it? These wacky kids with their crazy ages and stages. It doesn't actually get any easier I hear, it just changes and we change. I've changed an alarming amount since having these two maniacs - definitely for the better - but I'm left wondering just how much more change do I have on the horizon? If this is 40... what will 50 bring?

Please tell me your children are wild ...

Okay, just tell me what I need to hear.
Tell me that your kids are absolute loons.
Tell me that nobody listens to you the first six times you tell them to do something.
Tell me that you still get called up every night an hour after bedtime for ridiculous things like, "I heard a noise that sounded like a car" or "I dropped my bookmark."
That they scream both gleefully and frighteningly for the majority of your day.
That you're never quite sure if someone has broken a bone or snatched a toy based on each scream.
Please tell me that your child wears a very hot and uncomfortable gown to bed even after the ninety-seventh time you've explained that it's the very reason why she's sweaty every night.
Tell me that she refuses to believe you but begs to have her hair put up, her fan turned higher and her cool mist humidifier blowing directly at her head.
Tell me that no matter what cup you give your two and a half year old they choose to drop it on the floor, stuff food into its straw and figure out how to shake water from it at every single meal time.
Tell me they also take mouthfuls of said water and spit it into their dish repeatedly.
That your almost six year old child has started stomping when she doesn't get her way. Stomping. Like that classic image of a spoiled brat we've all come to know and loathe.
That she's also started a new form of whining that is ten thousand percent unacceptable.
That you were certain your second child would potty train early and now you realize that she's been using the toilet seventy percent of the time for eight months with no further signs of readiness and that it's most likely your fault because you simply haven't put enough effort into it.
Tell me that watching your child play with others is sometimes excruciating.
That you constantly sit back and think, Didn't I teach her better than that?
That you always thought you could control all of those things when you became a parent one day. That you now realize you can't.
That you have vodka.

Seas can be a bit stormy sometimes. We go through intermittent swells of horror that dissipate into lulls of wonderfulness. The next time the little ones are pissing each other off I have to reach back in my memory for the image of what their faces looked like when they rode their favorite ride together at the fair last week. Because that minute was one of the best minutes I've ever experienced as a parent. Total joy. And joy is something we strive to find daily when really it should be the biggest part of our day every day.

So for all of the crazy, unpleasant moments that seem to multiply and sometimes never end - I wish you more joy-filled moments. Ones that you can brand into your memory to pull out when you are just a millisecond away from losing your shit. Again.

Summer ... how times have changed

August, huh? The summer days are just flying on by, aren't they? I can't say I'm sad about it. I'm not a big fan. My days of peaceful beach outings are gone. My solo trips to the Beavertail cliffs with a towel, iPod and water bottle are a distant memory. Now a day at the shore requires a full staff just to carry the gear and another to tackle the kids. I might sit down just long enough to get shit on by a seagull. MIGHT.

But I am enjoying certain elements of the summer. I keep reminding Scarlett of the importance of lazy mornings. Come September it's full time school for thirteen years. Oh, to think of the crusts I'll be cutting off. I've made my school supplies lists and plan to finish that sooner than later. I don't want to be throwing punches over an eight pack of crayons while someone rips the Ticonderogas out of my cart. I'm not one to shop in a crowd. Or to do much else in a crowd for that matter... I need my space. We went to Mystic Aquarium last week and I shuddered as I was touched by every elbow, diaper bag and plush squid. A Pearl Jam concert is pretty much the only acceptable crowd I'll be found in. I'll take a few drunkards scream-singing Rearviewmirror over a family of ten rushing the sting ray tank any day.

My kids are driving me frigging crazy though. I'm finally at that point where I "get it". The glee that moms feel when the initial back-to-school ads are shown in like July. The parents cheering as the first day of school arrives, shoving their kid down the front steps, chucking their lunch bag through the bus window. I never understood it before and always kinda felt like it was harsh but now having gone through a collection of days where I literally yell for what feels like sixty seven hours straight I get it. When I look back on the former me I can't remember yelling more than a handful of times in my life. Aside from fights with my parents as a rude, inconsiderate teen - I don't think I ever yelled. I mean, what the hell would I yell about? If the post office was out of Charlie Brown stamps and I got stuck with the holiday birds? If my neighbor was blasting his shit music in the driveway for hours? If I was stuck in traffic on a bridge for two hours on a Friday evening? Nope. Not yelling over any of that jazz. Now? I steady yell. In fact, I think my regular speaking voice is actually a half yell now. My eyebrows are now stuck in permanent stern-face position. I begin yelling before 7:30 am. It doesn't end until 9 pm some days. It's exhausting being continuously pissed off. There are glorious moments in between where the girls are getting along nicely and actually playing together without bloodshed or when Daisy finally takes a good nap. When Scarlett is helpful and doesn't fight me on every single thing I tell her to do. Those moments are fleeting though. And my boiling point is quickly reached over and over again. It always works best if I separate the girls. They can be excellent when unhindered. Scarlett is too used to getting things her own way and Daisy is just trying to be two. The mix can be devastating. I force them together as much as possible to try to crack the code but sometimes it's best if I just put them in solitary.

I look back on my summer vacations as a child and realize those were truly some of the best times of my life. Playing outside with friends from sunup to sundown. Eight hour days at the beach. Pool swimming followed by lazy cartoon-filled afternoons. Ahhhh... to be a kid again.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go rip a crocodile game out of my kid's hands.

In the quicksand ...

Well, well, well. Here I sit. Back in a very familiar position, though the view has changed some.

The last time I wrote was exactly one month before Daisy was born. After her entrance I made an easy decision to press pause on my blogging. I don't know exactly why. Focus, probably. I felt like I needed every ounce of energy to balance spending quality time with Scarlett while being completely consumed by a newborn. I'm still trying to figure out my balancing act.

When Daisy came into our world we were elated, just the same as we were with Scarlett. Unsure of how the dynamic would change and how we would all adjust, we welcomed her home excitedly. From the day we learned we were having another girl I can't even tell you how happy my heart felt. TWO GIRLS. SISTERS! Sundresses and sandals. Pastel-colored bedrooms! Best friends forever. My mind was always busy with visions of twirling little silly-hearts cartwheeling their way through life together.

It's been very sweet but maybe slightly less poetic.

Most days I look like a dumb octopus cartoon. One "arm" washing dishes, one swiffering the endless dog hair tumbleweeds, one cutting off the crusts, one folding leggings, one paying bills - while another uses a calculator because I still detest numbers and math of any kind, one changing a diaper because I haven't quite figured out how to fully potty train my kid yet and that last one is either filling out paperwork, mailing out a greeting card, writing a shopping list or calling a company regarding something heinous. My mind is absolutely flooded with notes. I leap out of bed at all hours with a startling reminder that has to be written down at that very moment. My counter space which houses my calendar, notepads, mail and various to-do's is overflowing. Did I RSVP? Are we going to that party? Did I mail her birthday card? Bake sale. Fundraiser. When does the car need to be inspected? What time is Daisy's appointment? Summer dance card. Swimming lessons? Coupon expires tomorrow. Where the hell is my state tax refund?! School uniforms. It is never-ending. And I have two children. Some of you have three, four or five. To which I say, "HOW?!" I remain one of the most organized and efficient people that I know and I am sinking like a gummy vitamin in a glass of milk. Oh, Scarlett might be the only one that does that.

I'm not sure if it's a "turning forty" thing. Maybe it is. Maybe brain power is sucked away by each child that you carry and come forty the power that IS left is cut in half. I had an idea for a Mother's Day gift for my grandmother the other day and got all excited and was going to get it ready until I realized that Mother's Day was over a month ago. Not next week. And I've already forgotten the idea. I never have any clue what day of the week it is. Gregg's rotating schedule keeps it interesting. Most days go like this, "Oh hey, Sheri, how did you manage to get to Target without the kids this morning?" My reply, "Oh, Gregg usually has Tuesday mornings off." After an awkward look and pause, "Today is Friday." ............. Eyeroll.

It is what it is, though, right? I mean, who the hell can really balance it all? Who has everything in line, always? Maybe Scarlett's dance teacher. Yeah, she's impressive. She's superhuman. But aside from her I don't think I know anyone who doesn't feel like they are swimming in chaos. I always find myself saying, And I don't even WORK right now!  Like, I can't give myself a break because I don't technically clock in at a job each day. I look at working parents and admire the hell out of them. I can't get everything done and I'm home 75% of the time. How can it be done in less than half of that? On the other hand, I realize that I am with these children and this dog for eighty-nine hours a day. I get about twenty minutes to myself to chug my hot coffee at 6 am and then after the kids go to bed the night is finally mine ... I am asleep by 10:30 most nights. I'm actually cutting into that highly coveted time right this very second so let me go fill my burning eyes with drops, play Words With Friends, slug this last glass of water and maybe watch some Jaws.

Cheers to all who are in the quicksand with me! xoxo

The Scarlett Letters #14: the switch-flipper

When you began scratching and hitting my face when it was time for a diaper change. 

When you ripped out my hair as I carried you routinely toward bedtime. 

When you glared directly at me whilst dropping unwanted food onto the floor.

When you screamed and flung yourself to the ground when told to pick up your blocks.

When you decided to skip dinner. Twice in three days.

When all of these things cropped up in rapid succession I knew.

The times... they are a- changin'.

Apparently we have entered the newest phase of raising a person and it is by far the trickiest and most challenging. Some say it's an early start of the ole "terrible twos", others say, it's just a phase and it'll pass. My own assumption is that it's just the beginning of a constant battle for power and independence. A strong desire to become an independent little girl. You want what you want. Hey, who can blame you? I still want a Mac - but it's not gonna happen anytime soon. Much like you getting to play on the stairs with the potential of smashing your skull on the slate landing. Sorry, honey, I know you love to proudly exclaim, "I'M TALL!" (rub it in why don't you) but you can be tall by standing on a piece of cardboard on the rug just the same.

It's amazing to see this sweet, little girl - you know, the one who could do no wrong for a solid year - flip her switch and monsterize herself. I swear, it's like the ponytails come out, the smile fades and here comes Crankenstein. I almost ran for cover the other day. Well, for fear of being hit with a xylophone - that thing's no feather.

But in all fairness there are so many moments of extreme sweetness too. Like last night when you wanted to play with your ABC Puzzle. I told you that the floor was too messy and told you to pick up your animals and put them in the little barn first. I lost myself in a blog for a minute and then heard you say, "OK, ABC puzzle!" I turned around and the floor was clear. But where did she put everything? Where's the barn? I looked over at the couch and the barn was sitting on the couch, closed. I opened it up and sure enough there was the whole crew: cowie, horsey, sheep, farmer guy etc. I was SO impressed. I excitedly praised you and we high-fived through toothy grins. I love seeing that pride on your face. Right then I realized it's up to me to set goals for you to reach so you can always feel that pride. Challenge accepted.

You're a little spitfire these days but man, do I love you. I've learned a lot from these past few weeks too. I've learned how to easily handle most of your tantrums. Simply, by the most passive reaction. When you start throwing your crayons - coloring time is over. We pack it all up and put it out of sight for a few days. When you drop food on the floor because you don't want it - the dish is taken away, you are cleaned up and meal time is over. There is no yelling, just explaining. Don't get me wrong, I do yell some of the time out of frustration but I educate you in every situation. And I know you're listening - it's just up to YOU whether you comply or file the reasoning away under Tough Shit, Mama. 

(20 Months)

Level UP

I was never really an emotional person. I wouldn't shed a tear over a sappy commercial or weep during a sicky-sweet love story in a movie. The news read the same years ago as it does today: scary, devastating, sick, sad and heart-wrenching. My heart, however, never seemed to fully wrench. I mean, I had feelings of sorrow and terror and all that, but I couldn't truly comprehend the level of emotion on which it seemed the rest of the people in this world operated. Until I became a mother.

When my best friends were having their first babies I naturally shared in the joy. It was an exciting time for them and for us as friends to be moving into another chapter of life. Only I wasn't moving. I was doing the same thing in my life - working hard Monday through Friday and playing hard on the weekend. I visited those babies and held them with a beaming smile of awe - but I didn't truly know how precious those moments were for my friends. And after years of feeling somewhat guilty about that I can finally state with authority that Nobody does until they become a parent.

Having a child in your life, in your care, needing you wholly everyday - it magnifies everything. When I became a mother I quickly realized how beautiful each moment of each day really is. How special, how tranquil, how precious, how amazing. Yes, even the moments where you have to raise your voice or wipe poop off of the wall. When you feel like you need to rip out a few strands of your hair, when you just don't want to clean up after another meal, when bedtime seems so very far off... yep, those moments too are precious.

I was deeply affected by the Sandy Hook elementary school massacre - and still am. And if I remain haunted I cannot imagine what those families feel like every day of their ongoing lives. I think about watching my sweet child standing on the school steps waving goodbye, Mama and walking out of sight - for the last time. I think about what those children were doing in their classrooms just before the horror entered. Raising their hands to answer questions... with sweet, smiling innocent faces. It's almost too much to even think about. It's so unfair! I continue to pray for those children, teachers and families and I pray that my friends and family never experience such tragedy and loss of life.

Yesterday's savage tornado devastation in Oklahoma makes those wounds fresher still as we hear about the loss of children in their elementary school. My heart was just aching for the parents not knowing whether their child was one that made it out safely or one buried among friends in the ten foot debris pile. How do they cope with that?? I know as humans we have coping mechanisms ... and adrenaline that kicks in and propels us through tough times... but really?? How much can a person handle? I absolutely cannot even begin to think about losing my baby girl. Not for one second.

My point in all of this is that when Scarlett entered my life she changed the game. She forced me to "level up." I became aware on a much larger scale of what love and need really mean. To truly need someone in your life to be able to function. To love someone with every miniscule spec of your soul. To understand compassion and to be empathetic and sympathetic. And that there is a much better way to go through life than being cynical and jaded.

Now, I get weepy during sappy commercials. I can say there are scenes from movies that "get me every time". I'm softer. Scarlett melted the ice... and I can't thank her enough for that.

Becoming a mother has also made me more generous with my heart. I offer it up all the time because surprisingly there is plenty to go around.

No, chef.

Once in a while I wake up just knowing what I'd like to make for lunch. Luckily, it's normally something that is Scarlett-friendly as well. So, today I felt like having an egg-white omelet with peppers and onions in a tortilla with cheddar cheese and cherry tomatoes on the side. Perfect! All morning I felt like I had this big surprise coming for Scarlett (she'd never tried peppers or tomatoes) and I couldn't wait for lunch. Little did I know, Miss Priss had her own surprise in the works...

the wishes that already came true...

Oddly enough, it came to me while I was cleaning chicken. I was standing at the counter beside the sink, Creedence on the ipod and my hands wrist deep in unacceptable poultry pieces when it hit me--- no, thankfully it wasn't a chunk of that white clumpy stuff --- it was a realization.

Dr. Switchyswappy - the sequel

Hack, Hack, Hack. Sorry to have sprayed germs your way. Heads up, don't come visit me right now, I've got a cold. Or virus. Or allergies. Or all three rolled into one. Nothing too serious - just a hacking, dry cough, banging headache, runny nose, achy body and creepy skin feeling. Blaghhh and booooooo. Oh, stop. There's no need to send flowers... jeez, you guys are so thoughtful!! (I like daisies and peonies).

Anyway, mom came to get the baby this afternoon because I was feeling much worse than I did this morning. I can rest a little easier knowing that Scarlett is rolling around happily as my mother and grandmother play with her for hours on end. Here, she wouldn't have had such a great playmate. I just needed to lie down for a little while. But ya know when you take that weird, little midday nap and you get up and just feel dazed and horrendous?? That's what happened. The cough turned hackier, my nose got half-stuffy/half-runnier and my "creepy skin feeling" got creepier. Phooey on me. Honey Lemon Halls for this gal.

In other news, I am THRILLED to report that Dr. Switchyswappy has been a complete success!!!! Even beyond what I'd hoped for! The new doctor is a delight! Here's how Scarlett's six month visit (yesterday) went down...

I arrived ten minutes early - because I always arrive early - because I always hope that if they're on schedule they'll take us early. I sit in the waiting area which was an absolute zoo for some reason. I leave Scarlett in the infant carrier because it's just easier for me. She plays with  her little hanging toys and checks out the sights. Little did we know we would quickly become the center of attention and my anxiety would skyrocket.

Now, I understand kids love other kids and babies. I get it! Scarlett loves kids! I also know kids love to touch everything and explore. Totally understood. However, in a crowded pediatrician's waiting room I have no idea who has a well visit and who has the plague. I usually engage in some quick small talk with the other parents, asking the typical ages and names of their children. It's been a very calm wait on past occasions. But this day I was to be invaded. Invaded by toddlers.

Invaded. That's how I felt. As if Scarlett and I were in danger and should pick up and move to another area. At first I didn't mind the curious kiddies - one fifteen month old girl, Fiona, a one year old girl named Kylie and a three year old boy, Eamon. Eamon was VERY active and pretty much fought with his mama the entire time. Limbs flailing, jumping and ninja-kicking, throwing magazines and pamphlets, yelling and climbing over the chairs - over our chairs - over Scarlett. My heart started to pound a little harder at this point. I was getting that nervous Mama-Bird instinct like I needed to protect my child from this wild man. I contemplated moving the carrier from the floor to the chair but the little girls were walking over to us. Eamon took notice and joined the pod. I felt as though three sharks were closing in on a wounded seal. My eyes were sharp. Eamon immediately grabbed Scarlett's toys and started shaking, swinging and rattling them just an INCH from her face. He was yelling in Scarlett's face and turning her innocent and colorful owl into a scary monster. His mother simply said, "Gentle, do gentle, Eamon." I watched as his grubby hands got to know every centimeter of every toy that I brought to soothe my girl. The two small girls were much more cautious. Touching Scarlett's shoes, pointing out that she is a "baby" and reaching for her toys. As all three huddled around her, attacking her owl and elephant, I watched as Scarlett raised her fists by her face and widened her eyes. She seemed nervous. I felt so bad. The other mothers simply smiled as the children grabbed her toys and swung metal keys around her. I smiled nervously and began to rock her carrier saying, "you're okay" as if I was trying to convince myself. At one point one of the girls screamed into Scarlett's face and she began to whimper, looking at me, frightened. What could I do??

After about forty minutes of this I had to take her out of the car seat. I held her, bounced her on my knee and rocked her in my arms. The doctor was a full hour late. The waiting experience was actually excruciating. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to say, "Please leave my baby alone, she's very small and fragile." I wanted the other mothers to realize it on their own and keep a closer eye on their own babies. I know it's different being a "new mom". I know we get terms thrown around about us like, OVERREACT, GERMAPHOBE, OVERPROTECTIVE etc. But come on. Tell me you wouldn't have been scared having your little, six month old bundle of love being surrounded by dangerous scenarios. That's what they were. Jumping, flailing, throwing object boy, Keys-swinging girl, face-touching other girl. Not to mention the toys that went right into my diaper bag to be scoured with soap as soon as I got home. I have no idea where all of those little hands have been! Just in that waiting room I saw them on a plethora of filthy things. My little girl doesn't need any more help getting viruses. We do just fine on our own.

We finally made it into the doctor's exam room. SAFE! We were both relaxed. Scarlett immediately got to work kicking furiously at the paper lining the table. She was in heaven! She flipped onto her belly and tore up every inch of that paper. She began babbling and screeching with contentment. I didn't care how long we had to wait in that room, we were happy there. She was weighed and measured and we awaited the doctor. As soon as the door opened I knew I had made the right decision in switching. Immediately the doctor acknowledged Scarlett- how active she was, her great motor-skills etc. She flipped her laptop around to show us her growth charts while explaining everything to us both. Even stopping to say, "Yes, I know you love my computer don't you!?" I was soooo glad she had just the demeanor I hoped for. She spewed out information while lifting Scarlett to the exam table. She asked a lot of questions about our daily routines and answered every question I had to my complete satisfaction. We weren't rushed through our Q&A despite her backed up schedule. She was wonderful and well worth the hour wait.

I am certain that Scarlett is going to have the experience that I was looking for with her pediatrician. I couldn't be happier that I switched. Not everyone clicks - not everyone has the same experience with the same people. I found our fit. Cross another one off the list!

How would you have handled our waiting room experience? 

Would you have asked the children to give the baby some space or are you much more relaxed?

the "I jus-hafta"s

I have come to realize that as soon as we came home from the hospital my husband and I also gave birth to a whole new world of language. Here we were with this beautiful bundle of joy, brand new to the world, and while we should have been focused on bringing our smart cards to the table we were acting as though we just failed kindergarten.

Oohs too cuutes?? Youuus too cuuutes!! Oohs does pee?? Ooh dizz sweets!

Just a glimpse of the ridiculousness. Which is to be expected, I mean, I know there aren't many new parents who are reading their four day old baby The Wall Street Journal. I think allowing yourself to be silly is partly what makes a good parent a GREAT parent.

All goo-goo and raspberries aside - I did pick up on one pretty interesting oddity that occurred shortly after the baby was yanked from my uterus. I noticed that my husband and I began to quite frequently use the phrase, "I jus-hafta". The phrase is most often uttered to the spouse having "free-play" while the utterer is holding/watching the baby.

Examples:
"I jus-hafta shave and brush my teeth"

"I jus-hafta go on the computer and check something real quick" {Sidenote: I LOVE "real quick" simply because it feels like you're inconveniencing the other person a bit LESS if they believe you will be SO FAST - a la Napoleon Dynamite: "Can I try really quick?" in the infamous bicycle scene}

"I jus-hafta finish doing these dishes and call my mom"
"I jus-hafta run downstairs and do my workout"
"I jus-hafta wash my face and file my nails"
"I jus-hafta take my vitamins and vacuum the living room"
"I jus-hafta finish burning the photos"

You get the idea. And yes, some are more elaborate than others - usually I am the dramatic one. I will sometimes add five things to the list. I didn't really notice Gregg doing this until recently but I always felt guilty as the words would leave my mouth. Seemed as though I was trying to get away with something when really I was just rushing off to a chore or task. It's not like either of us say "I jus-hafta go lay in bed and watch three hours of Boardwalk Empire while eating cotton candy." I should mention that neither of us feel as though playing with our daughter is something we'd like to be rescued from. I savor every second I have with her - BUT there are times when everybody needs a tag-in. Hence, the "I hafta"s.