Swearing- Preschcool style

As you know as the mother of three children one of my primary functions in life is a referee. A skill that I had previously under-utilized and have had lots of practice developing it.

This morning an argument broke out over the trains- the toy I hate most... They fight over it more than play with it, it eats batteries for snacks, and needs to be put back together very frequently, it also has a ton of pieces to keep track of, and the worst?? It makes noise- the Thomas theme song.

So the kids are arguing. It was threatening to turn ugly so I intervened. A short investigation revealed that Princess hijacked the train from Stinky and Stinky was retaliating. Order and justice were restored. Princess in protest stomped off to her room and attempted to slam the door (it does help if blankets are not in the way)...for good measure she opened it and slammed it again.. This translates from preschoolese to 'f you'

Faith Musings

I come from a completely confusing religious upbringing. Evangelical Christian was a bad word.

However I have never been able to identify totally with 'Roman Catholic'...though I love a lot of the high church traditions. I also love Shul and the beauty inherent there. To claim myself as Christian seems to turn my back on a lot of my upbringing and insulting to my family...

Where does that leave me and my crisislet of faith? The notion that G-d would sacrifice his son for us--is incomprehensible to me. That I am worth that any of that--is beyond me, maybe that is where my issue comes in. It seems presumptuous to me.

One thought that I do love is forgiveness- the notion that once you ask for forgiveness your wrongs are forgotten is comforting.

What I know the Jewish traditions are beautiful. The Catholic traditions are beautiful. I need my own religion that incorperates both. That recognizes Jesus was a Jew and from that Christianity arose-- and then celebrates that.

Fred

Not Flintsone or Mertz...Fred the dog. A yellow lab. My parents dog. My dog. We got Fred at a time in my life that was awful. Fred loved me. Fred was dependable when everything was not. Fred was always there to go for a walk...to swim with...to run and play with... Now Fred is getting old and slowing down. Last night I heard that he was not doing so well..he could not put his paw down. In a dog who is 13 that can be a big issue...

So at the vet today my mom called me. He tore his ACL. It is being repaired Friday morning. I know he is 'just a dog' but I love him. So if you have any good thoughts to spare for Fred please think them for my wonderful dog.. Who will always be a perky puppy in my heart?

My Superpower

Invisibility.

It seems I am. What I do everyday is invisible. If I did not do it---things would be visible.

I am a short order cook whipping eggs for breakfast, a laundress- making sure everyone is clothed in clean clothes, a maid-- picking up, vacuuming up, wiping up after the torrent of kids, and dogs, I am a book on tape-- reading story after story, I am a dairy, I am a taxi, I am a watch, I am a referee, I am an ATM, I am a calculator and a dictionary, I am a nurse and countless other jobs that for the most part go unnoticed.

There are times when I feel unappreciated, lately I have begun to feel like my work while not high profile is appreciated by G-d. I serve him by helping my family. Invisibility is not a bad thing, it just means I am doing my job well. Knowing that my day to day bring glory to G-d makes me feel fulfilled. That fulfillment is something I have been seeking.

(but G-d help my family if I every get really sick)

Mother

My mother has left. She spent 2 and a half days here. There was a time in my life when I would have not been able to be around her...or she me. Our relationship was tenuous at best. Now we can-- in limited doses.

My mother is a great woman, a smart woman, a caring woman--who thinks differently than I do. Totally fine. But sometimes things bother me more than they should and sometimes I dwell.

Part of the issue is I am the youngest by several years and have gotten pigeon-holed as the baby. Despite growing up, finishing, school, owning a home, marriage, kids, etc I will be the youngest never allowed entirely to grow up.

This is complicated because the interaction is involved. I feel inadequate- like nothing I do is good enough or right and I feel like I am being judged-- and always come up short (pun intended). I am not saying that she is judging me merely that this is how I feel.

A complicating factor in this is my in ability to 'stand- up' to her for lack of a better word. I do not want to upset her and I do not want to disappoint her. I have done enough of that. I want to get it right...for once.

Play!!

I played today.. Not the grown up play. Kid play. It was so much fun. We went in the front yard and raked leaves the jumped into the piles of them. It was cool here...not cold...perfect autumn weather. I was happy..euphorically happy. for the first time in a while I was giddy.

We had a fire in the back and cooked dinner on it. Again..awesome.. grown-ups need to get in on the kid fun market more..

Boys will be boys

This morning I smelled something funky so I asked Stinky if he pooped...he stuck his hand in his diaper and pulled out a handful...a simple 'yes' would have been great. He then tried to hand it to me...eww

We moved him out of the crib when he realized how to climb out of it at about 18 months old. Stinker. At that point he was still short enough not to be able to open his door...so if I *really* needed mommy time he would at least be contained. not anymore. He can open the door. In an act of sheer desperation I put a 'child-proofing' door knob cover on his door...he took it off and came downstairs handed it to me and told me he broke it. Time for plan 'b'.

sadness

***I started this post last night but due to circumstances was unable to finish it***

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

I have never known the pain of losing an infant. I have known and still know the pain of miscarrying. Even though the babies were alive in me for a short short time I loved them... I had started thinking about life with them...even when I was sure I was not ready for another baby...automatically I started to love them. Maybe a way of teaching me that even if I am sure 'I' am not ready..I can be ready.. as evidenced by the emptiness in my heart and the sadness that I still feel. I miss the babies I have lost. I wish I could have held them to tell them that I loved them.

I wish I understood why they were taken. I hate to admit it but I am angry. Why give them to me to take them away?? Am I not a good enough mother? Did G-d change his mind and decide 'wait nope you are not ready'? Is it away of reminding me that as much as my type 'A' self would like to control everything I can't?

Logically I can look at it and say: 'early losses are likely caused by a chromosomal abnormality or some other issue with the embryo that is incompatible with life' great. but my heart does not believe it.

So tonight I will light candles to remember the lives of my and my friends babies who's lives were extinguished all too soon

Sometimes older is better

Sigh...another post about births...so if you are anti natural birthing read no further.
Disclaimer---this is based on my experiences only....

I have been thinking a lot about birth and the American modern practices regarding pregnancy and birth since watching 'The Business of Being Born' in an effort to engage my mind and keep me from thinking on more depressing topics.

1- I wish it was still the norm to have other people around you during labor especially and possibly delivery. So many people have said how they want just their partner there with them..then commented on how they cannot handle it/were so scared..etc..

In my experience having another person there really helped me deal...especially with the fear. Maybe this is because my husband is not so great at supporting me or maybe having other people who cared for me who had been through the process took a lot of the fear out of it (I prefer to think the latter)

2- I really wish hospitals and doctors in general were more supportive of women and viewing pregnancy as a life stage and not a condition to be 'treated'.

Now looking at things from the preemie parent standpoint: fear is a huge issue for us...fear not only of the labor/delivery that most women have but also the fear for our babies...any reduction in that is helpful.

3- how come animals who have more babies in one gestation than most people seem to handle what is essentially the same process so much better and with a less mortality rate than humans?? One thing that I came up with is that animals cannot share 'horror stores' they go into it following their nature and let their bodies do their jobs.

(there are clearly instances when humans need medical help - my body cannot seem to stay pregnant for a full gestational period so trusting my body to go full term is moot... when modern medicine is NEEDED clearly NEEDED not for convenience...it is a darn good thing it is there.)

4- I must question the rational in a practice that has not seen an improvement in maternal mortality rate since the early 1980's----why is that? Cancer 5 year survival rates have improved a huge amount?? why the discrepancy?

Maybe trusting the 'old' way of doing things is better...in countries in which midwives are utilized along with doulas...intervention rates are lower as are the maternal and fetal mortality rates. Support women and their bodies. We are designed to do this.

since when is

Putting three kids to bed an aerobic activity??

It goes like this:

-dinner...I usually try and get a vegetable in them somehow. Sometimes they eat sometimes the dogs eat well...the kids get wiped or occasionally hosed off as the meal and the level of messiness dictate..dogs lick the floor chairs everything.

- the kids play until that paradoxical childhood reaction to fatigue sets in..when they become so intractable that there is no good solution. Tonight Princess ripped a choo-choo out of Stinky's hands and sat on it..why? dunno. I asked her how she feels when Stinky takes things from her and she began to flail about like an octopus being strangled. I told her that she could choose to calm down and play nicely or go to bed. she choose to go to bed (ok she did not choose..she bit me). I talked to her and told her it made me really sad when she made choices like that and that she was telling me with her actions that it was time for rest. she began to run around like a maniac.

- I pick her up. she flails/kicks, shrieks, hits...etc. I prevent her from knocking her self out and deposit her in her bed. she again acts all wild and gets stuck..then really looses it...

- stage left Peas is chasing a huge plastic bat yelling at it
- stage right Stinky is sitting on a dog who is being saintly.

- Princess is unstuck and we calm down and talk. the other children are herded to the bathroom for teeth brushing/last potty.

- I hold Peas and prepare tooth brushes while bouncing Peas. We sing the brushing song..Princess attempts to water board herself while rinsing. faces are again wiped (how do the get so dirty in 45 min??)

- we go to Stinky's room. Princess decides she wants to read her story/say prayers in Stinky's bed. Fine. Prayers are said. I somehow manage to hoist Princess onto my hip to carry her and Peas to her room and put her in bed..hand off blankie give kisses, turn on nightlight, turn on music box.

- return to Stinky's room..he is wailing in his crib..he wants to sleep in his big boy cars bed. I sympathize but tonight the into and out of bed constantly thing seems beyond me. give kisses turn on nightlight sunggles.

- remember dogs are outside. run downstairs to let them into garage to dry off a bit. nearly breaking my neck and dropping Peas on the train layout..

- briefly stop in kitchen to have water...am sweating.

- hear skylar playing in room- remind her that she needs to rest.

- plop down to nurse and realize I forgot to change Stinky's diaper and Peas needs a new one as well. Figure Stinky can wait until he is sleeping then I'll change him...I change Peas...she nurses and fall unceremoniously asleep...

- feed dogs

-remember I have not pee'd since 6 am.

Chest Rattle

Peas's cold has moved to her lungs and will probably live there for a while. I am terrified that this will go to RSV. sigh...nebulizers are our friends as are steamy showers...

How did I get so lucky to get such awesome babies??

Coughing

Well people are getting over the colds. The problem with having a house full of preemies is that when the runny nose is gone the cold goes and lives in their chest for a few weeks and may or may not turn into something ghastly fast. I am helpless to do much to stop it and then once it is there all I can do is support them. Not a whole lot of anything I can do to drastically improve things.

First colds

All three kids are sick. Managing three kids who are sick alone stinks. Royally. I damn near rolled off the bed last night expecting to roll into B...but of course he was not there. I hate that.. A lot.

Anyway- Since Peas is a preemie and has her first cold of the season and RSV season is literally around the corner I am living in fear of it developing into RSV. It starts so fast so innocently a cough a sneeze then you are sitting there with a blue infant struggling to breath utterly helpless. I get chills just thinking about it. Stinky had RSV and I have never been so scared- ever. Please pray that Peas cold stays just that a cold... I can wipe runny noses all day long, factor in ER, nebs, PICU, intubation, not so good at all of that.

Chocwat

Stinky sure does love chocwat (chocolate to people who are not fluent in 2 year old)

He wants it and he wants it now.

9 years

It has been an emotional week. Yesterday marked 9 years since I re-entered the world after eating disorder treatment. I am still here, sometimes by a thread, but I am here. I eat.

The shoes I wore on the plane home are still in my closet. Some of my clothes are still marked with my number "318" (maybe I should shop more??) There are days that the emotions are still to raw to 'there' to deal with.

My eating disorder will never be gone. Will never leave me entirely-- in the way I eat, the way I look at myself in mirrors, the damage to my physical self, and the damage to my emotional/spiritual self--remnants are there and will always be there.

Thank you Mom and Dad. Thank you for sending me. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for believing in me when I was batty and wild. I cannot thank you enough. I love you