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motherhood, I wish I knew

March 26, 2008 By Michele Leave a Comment

I was originally going to write this for a blog blast on another blog of mine.  Except then I realized I didn’t need the prize – it was for munchkin babies and my kids are too old.  But I’d already written the post and apparently had something to say.  So, here it is.

You know… There are several things I wished I knew before I became a mother. All the way from pregnancy all the way down to where I am now (my sons are 5 & 7.)

I wished someone would tell me how crappy I would feel when pregnant. I knew the technical symptoms. But no one ever sat me down and said, “Look. You’re going to feel like crap for the next 9 10 months. There will be varying forms of suckitude, and it can take different forms. Be prepared.” Or, how freakin’ bloody it would be – both for my husband to witness during the birth, and for the after process of bleeding. My poor husband went literally white and almost passed out. He thought I was bleeding to death, poor man. The doctor had to reassure him that this amount of blood was normal.

Or in the infant stages… That a fever did not mean certain death. That diaper rashes didn’t mean I was a bad mother. Or how everything would be, well, sticky. Of course that continues for, well, ever.

Nobody told me that I wouldn’t instantaneously feel love for the children. That in reality what I would feel was terror that they were sending me home with this creature and I didn’t have a medical degree.

No one told me I’d die for them either, but I think now, that’s a given.

Tired of the Fight

March 18, 2008 By Michele 3 Comments

Cross-Posted at Special Needs Parent as well

Do you ever just get really really tired? Tired of it all? Tired of the drama… Tired of being the “responsible adult…” or the “responsible parent…” Tired of dealing with all the kids issues, and having to be on top of it all, and realizing at a certain point…

My God will it never end?

And it won’t.

And I’m feeling it today.

So, my youngest son, Logan (he would be the one with the heart issues) is going to be held back in Kindergarten next year. He’s just not keeping up.

Bad news – He’s being held back.

Good news – He’s being held back.

On the one hand – developmentally speaking – he’s very very young. That’s just because of his heart issues… Smart as a whip – but more like a 4 year old (physically and mentally) than a 5 year old. Smallest in his class. As his teacher put it, there are no learning issues, there are no psychological or behavioral issues. He, quite simply, needs the gift of time.

On the other hand – he’s made friends. And now the kids, in school, will be three years apart instead of two.

And this was the one that I thought we’d have no school problems with – at least until it was time for his surgery.

I’m just…

I don’t know. I’m sad. I’m sad that he’s got extra issues too.

I’m sad – and actually crying – this is endless. Day after day. One thing after another. Constant issues. If it’s not their emotional issues, it’s behavioral, or learning, or too slow, or too young, or too small, or “not accomplishing his potential.” I’m so so tired.

I’m just sick of it all. Please excuse the rant. It might be a sleep factor – Logan’s been getting into bed with us -favorite position: on my head. And the wind kicked up around here, which wakes me with slamming things outside, and I’m not getting good sleep. I usually don’t physically cry about this stuff – I just do what needs to be done. Period. That’s my function as their mother, to make sure they have the best care, for the best reasons, with the best results, for their best future, whatever that looks like individually for each of them. I usually don’t get emotional about it. So. Thank you for listening and letting me rant.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

March 17, 2008 By Michele Leave a Comment

Having absolutely nothing to do with St. Patty’s Day, this is the conversation from the car this morning, on the way to school:

Joseph: Logan, what do you want to be when you grow up.

Logan: Police.

Joseph: Well…  You could be a Sheriff too, you know.

Logan: What’s that?

Joseph: Same as police – they just wear a different hat.

On a lighter note…

March 14, 2008 By Michele Leave a Comment

Last night:

I come home.  Poe is folding laundry.  When he does tasks like this, he likes to blast music.  The kids also like the blasting music.  Poe is trying to talk to me, and we look like idiots trying to yell through the music to talk to each other.  I turned the stereo down two volume notches.

Logan marches over to me and puts one hand on one hip and points to the stereo.

Logan:  Why did you do that?

Me: So I could talk to your father without yelling.

Logan:  That…  Just does not Rock!

Kids are Funny Funny Creatures

February 7, 2008 By Michele 2 Comments

This morning was Logan’s Kindergarten play.  My son was so completely Logan that I’ll never forget it.

First, I get there, and because Logan has GrandmaPapaRadar, he wasn’t in line where he needed to be – he was “mingling.”  I walk in, and him and his little friend ambush me to set up a play date.  I say maybe in a non-committal tone, and try to shuffle them off to their class line for the big show.  Logan is very dramatic, in a very very sincere way.  Which can either be a kick, or just break your heart, or just wanna break him.  Anyway, he turns around, throws himself into my arms, and say “Mommy, I am just so glad you’re here.”  Then he sighs, and gets in line.  The mom in front of me started giggling.

So, there they are…  He’s singing his little heart out.  And then?  Oh No!  Wardrobe malfunction…  He kept having to wrap his scarf back around his neck.  It would NOT stay up (winter theme – hats, scarves etc.)  Every once in a while he’d get a little scared, but then he’d make eye contact with me, and calm down.  And he played the tambourine (on beat – I’m sorry that’s impressive at 5.)  He kept waving at us.  We quickly learned to wave back immediately…  Otherwise he’d just keep going until you do.

Then…  It’s his turn to get up and say his line.  There’s a bit of a shuffle of children to get into their places.  Apparently, grandma turned her eyes off of him for one minute.  And his GrandmaPapaRadar knew this.  So, from the middle of the quiet stage (while they’re setting up) he puts his little hands around his mouth (to be louder, don’t you know) and yells at the top of his lungs, “I’m up here grandma!” Then waved his hands over his head like he was bringing in aircraft.  He definitely provided the levity of the morning.

Especially when at the end of the show, in the middle of the stage, he needed to readjust the family jewels.

Sigh.

But I’m telling you…  At the end, when we were applauding for him, that same small aircraft could have been brought in by the wattage of the smile he had on his face.  He can embarrass me all he wants if it brings him that much unadulterated pure joy.

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Wife. Mother. Daughter. Business owner. Please send coffee.

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