waiting for the sea change

Ah, life.  One day running into the next, never-ending chores, "didn't I just finish this?".  It's hard for me to separate the weeks from one another, let alone the days.  I don't like this fact.  I suppose it is up to me to make each day different and special.  I feel a bit guilty, but I must admit that this idea makes me feel exhausted.  Sometimes it's easy, but some days I am just struggling to maintain composure, or to stay awake.  It's like a hamster wheel that just doesn't let up.  Punctuated, of course, by some very, very delightful moments.  I can't pretend that it's all bad; 2 year olds can be hysterical, and also very sweet.   And the fat legs of a three month old are delicious, even on the grumpiest of days.  

It's just that I get this nagging feeling that I should be accomplishing more in a day, or creating something, or just having some adult relationships.  I miss my friends.  I can't go anywhere without a babysitter (my little civic doesn't fit 3 car seats), and honestly, where would I go?  Not to the store, can you imagine?  there wouldn't be room for anything in the cart but babies!  I remember feeling like this with the twins, before I figured out a strategy for getting around.   I know that this is just a season, and I really want to enjoy Jude's babyhood while it lasts, but I am feeling like I have lost my identity to these children, and I fear I might never get it back.  Not that I don't expect my character to be altered and improved by motherhood, but there is more to me than Mommy, and I need those other parts of me to really be fulfilled and happy.  Jeez, I blogged about this after the girls were born, I think, this identity crisis of mine, but I did not expect this season to be extended with the birth of another child.  Not so soon, anyway. 

 

I read back over an old draft that I never posted, and wow, I was terrified when I found out that I was pregnant again. Out of my mind scared.  I knew what I was in for, and I knew that it would be really difficult.  And it is,  it so is.   I get out of the house so rarely... Dan is sweet enough when he is home on saturdays to send me out alone, just to have some time to myself, and I usually end up reading parenting books at Borders.  Lame, lame, lame-o!  Sounds like a Rachel Ray ingredient.  I got such a charge out of unexpectedly running to the store to buy diapers on a weeknight last week!  I am embarrassed to admit it, but there it is. Seriously, I had the window down as I drove, and I was singing and laughing in a slightly hysterical manner, just feeling so free for about 15 minutes!  I wonder if I am a little depressed.  I feel like a single mom, sometimes, with Dan working 2 full time jobs, but that is what needs to be done for now.  That too, is just a season.  I can't really feel like a single parent, because I know that I have love and support and a man who, if I really needed him to, would drop everything to come home and pick up the pieces, glue me back together, and kiss the bruises all better.  

So I have the three kids that I am meant to have, and they are fantastic.  I just can't wait until we can all go out in one car, and go bowling together, maybe with some other friends.  Or just leave them ALL with one pair of grandparents for a night, without having to worry about getting back to nurse a baby!  I am praying that I take advantage of this time at home with them on a more regular basis.  I hope I don't sound like I hate my life... more days than not, I don't.  I am just looking forward to having a better grip on things.  It's a gradual process,  I know... there probably won't be an actual sea change moment, just a day in the future when I realize that we're getting there.

projects, toddler hygiene, and laughs

This morning, Rowan grabbed my facial moisturizer off of the bathroom sink, exclaimed "chapstick!" and proceeded to rub the bottle on her armpits.  I guess she's got a few years to figure it out.

The pig is poised to jump, and the owls are wary.
Do I have control issues?  I do NOT like to be told which color crayon to use!  Genevieve is constantly handing me a new color, "here... here... here" and is not the slightest bit ruffled when I take it and put it down, while trying to complete whatever masterpiece was already underway with another color.  She just picks it back up... "here, Mommy". Rowan, on the other hand, demands a change.. "no-no, Mommy, no more purple!",  when I politely explain that I would like to finish with the purple crayon.  Maybe I should just take the new crayon and switch gears, but no sooner do I do this, then a new one is handed to me, "here, Mommy, here...".  Girls, don't you understand, this is Mommy's only creative outlet?Well, almost.  The nubbly knitting in the previous post has become this hat, the second run-through of a design that still is not working out... it looks cute, but it falls off at the slightest movement.  It fit well until I added the scalloped edging, which stretched everything out, somehow.  Aaaargh. I guess it just shows my inexperience.  Time to rip it out and start over for the third time, I suppose.  It should be a delicious cream puff of a hat, if I can ever get the fit right!

cozy day in

What's cozier than a hug from a corduroy rocking horse? Maybe plaid flannel and some pink nubbly knitting.  It's a cozy cuddly day for us, and we are enjoying ourselves.
So the rocker is not so cozy, as it is waiting on the porch in a snow drift.  It would be nicer to have it inside, so I could sit and knit, and feel like a real grandma.

So, yes, most days are "day in", by definition, but today is a snowy, blustery day, and I am embracing my position in life.  I sometimes think that I need to wait for something interesting or noteworthy to happen in order to post something, but that could take a while... and besides, that would be a very misleading representation of what my life is like.  I am waiting for the girls to fall asleep so that I can take a shower.  They are taking a really long time, and boy do I need a shower!  On the plus side, I am thankful for our unbelievably strong heat, as our place is super draughty. There are some suspicious noises coming from the girls room, I guess I had better check it out.  Sigh.  Screetching and crashing are never good.

Snowy days make me think of my parents.  My Dad was a work horse in the snow, shoveling our long driveway, clearing the steps, throwing down ice melter, keeping everybody safe.  But he was also our playfellow, and built snow forts, took us sledding, and enthusiastically photographed it all.  My Mom, always the caretaker, would lay out a pathway of towels to keep us from drenching the floor, and would always have a batch of homemade hot chocolate simmering on the stove, waiting to soothe our wind-burnt cheeks and fingers.  There is a certain feeling when it snows, having to do with the extra silence, and the anticipation of fun, the freedom from school, I think I'll always feel the same way.  Snow days make me happy still, and I hope that my kids have as warm memories of their snow days as I do of mine.