...it's the same song, the same dance. Shopping with children, 4 children to be exact is hectic. It's only a luxury I rarely take to shop alone. Shopping with kids? I take it on as a challenge, with a cocktail medal at the finish line when we are hopefully all back in our home safe and sound. The freak outs, tantrums, arguments, battle of wills...and that is all before we reach the check out lady.
It's a mental battle field...choosing words wisely, strategy and how to get out of the store before DCFS is tipped off. You know the game, and you are willingly playing it because, the kids have to eat, wear diapers, and you are needing to stock your liquor cabinet...the whole process must be done. The freak outs are inevitable. You plan for them as best you can accordingly, like an army ground crew needs a medic, and hope you can charge the front without casualties. However, the best freak outs are those that are some how etched into minds forever in infamy. Only spoken of again in "hushed reverent tones" as a warning of what was one fateful day...
I've learned a thing or two in 10 years. You would never hear me utter "...what would you like for dinner (or any other meal)". This only loosely translates into me being a short order cook or lousy with money. I offer them one thing when we are out. It's an easy out for myself and it is ALWAYS veiled with the idea of look how fun/lucky/yummy/adventurous/fortunate/etc. this could be. But, it seemed this day, it was my turn for the freak out.
I blame Wal-Mart. I think it is a vastly unused form of criminal punishment for anyone to take 4 kids to Wal-Mart on the first of the month or on a weekend. I dare you, DARE YOU, to make it out unscathed. After offering a lunch option I thought would be a viable, not to mention a good diversion from the nightmare that I already lived shopping...it was shot down...laughed at...and thinly implied that didn't I have thousands of dollars to take them out to eat? The only honorable thing I managed to do that day, was wait until I got into the car before I lost my S*#T...it was calm toned, slightly bitter, but dripping with sarcasm.
On the thirty minute drive home they kept asking "...what's for lunch?". I ignored them. They even tried to imply that my freak out was possibly my fault, they each wanted something different. I turned up the radio, to quiet the voices in my head. While driving, I realized it had been a while since I lost it. The fact that these kids were dictating to me what MY next move would be? NOPE, NOT TODAY...where was Wonder Woman's lasso of truth when you needed it?
About halfway home, I pulled into a Wendy's parking lot. Immediately, as if I was already taking their lunch orders, they started calling them out to me as if I were wearing a name tag and a headset. "I want the giant-super-sized-mega-burger-$12-meal-blah-blah-blah". I put the car in park. I turned off the radio and very calmly said, "...your only choice is chicken or beef...you are not paying, so you will not be ordering..." The just looked at me, slack jawed as if I were speaking in another language. This is where calm left. In a rattled, shaken, mom of four voice I managed to shrill yell, CHICKEN OR BEEF?!?!?! I ordered, we pulled back onto the highway, and it was the quietest, most contented drive I have ever had.
Today, in my own home for lunch they were each asked chicken or beef noodles-yeah, I'm a culinary wizard. One of my precious angels turned and said "...well, what else is there? I don't want that..." I repeated the same thing I had before, chicken or beef? Oscar looked up from what he was doing and said in a hushed tone "...for the love of all that is holy, just pick one! Don't you remember last time?" Then suddenly, as if forgetting I was still in the room, he looked up at me. I couldn't contain it, I started busting out laughing...then I heard Abe yell out CHICKEN! Glad to know this freak out left an impression, completely convinced it won't be the last...
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Saturday, September 13, 2014
...giant exhale...
While parenting, you question everything. Why wouldn't you? There are a million books, countless magazines, and (ahem) even blogs you read that instruct you on the "dos and don'ts". I admit it. In the beginning, I read them, subscribed to them, even aspired to follow every instruction they gave to the letter...the never ending quest to be a good parent. The notion that you might have no idea what you are doing, and someone who has never even met your offspring should know more than you...makes sense.
I stopped reading the books a long time ago. Trial and error made me feel more human and less inadequate along the way. I still have my worries and concerns, but now they are vastly different than they were 10 years ago when I gained the badge of motherhood. When you are a widow, parenting becomes a whole different ball game. The worry/concerned is amplified to a level that is at times deafening. That scary, frustrating balance of being two parents. Being present but constantly hoping that the one not present IS in some way, shape or form.
Looking at my kids, watching them grow is at times bittersweet and maddening. Seeing how much they have changed on the outside, knowing how much they have changed on the inside...well, at times it could send me straight to the liquor cabinet. Feeling, in a really concrete way, they are all I have. Not only my mark on this world, but profoundly their father's too. I question my methods. I wonder if I am doing enough. I talk a good game, and I act like I have it all together. Then, very unexpectedly, life hits me. All the times it has nudged me before, I've wrapped it up and put it in the bottom drawer, as if to say, "...I'll deal with that later, maybe when I have five minutes to myself..." Later, unfortunately happens when it wants, is amplified, and knocks you out at the knees.
This time, I couldn't avoid it. I saw it in the smallest of behaviors, and the simplest of gestures...apparently, we had all put off feeling some things for a while.OIn one modest Sunday morning, we had a biter and someone packing a bag to run away...now that's a one two punch to the parenting belt. I couldn't stop the emotions that my kids were working through, and I felt the same coming on in myself. We had to deal with it. We had to talk out the hard stuff. We had to cry. We had to find our common ground again. It's always interesting to me that the dread of grief, leads to this feeling of a GIANT exhale. Also, the ability to see life from yet another angle through your kids eyes is life changing...and I'm grateful for it.
I write a lot about Nora as she talks nonstop about everything. I'm surprised and grateful for her strength to be open and honest about how she feels about life. I hope it never goes away. I worrying about my kids has become my unpaid second job, I'm at odds most when I think of Atticus. He has no capability of remembering Jason. He was only 9 months old when his dad passed away, yet somehow he understands the concept of parents. I've seen him playing with action figures or doll house dolls. He gets that the men are Dads and the women are Moms. No matter how many times he is shown pictures of Jason, the lack of any personal memories about his Dad crushes me at times and leaves me feeling slightly hopeless.
Then, this morning...over M&M pancakes and hot chocolate, no I'm not trying to make my kids diabetic, there were bananas hidden in those pancakes... Hot chocolate mug in hand, Atticus looks at me and points to a picture on the wall and says "...that's MY dad...". I told him yes, he was right. He then looked at Abe and said "...hey Abe? That's MY dad..." It was the most profoundly gratifying thing that has happened to me in a while. Out of this tiny terror's mouth, came what I had worried never would be understood. He got it...
More than a compliment from a stranger...More than matching all the socks in the laundry...More than no one complaining about the meal they are given...More than even making it through the day in one piece... I will remember this day for a long time, as a reminder that no matter how much I worry, question, or stumble through the title of motherhood, I must be doing something right...
I stopped reading the books a long time ago. Trial and error made me feel more human and less inadequate along the way. I still have my worries and concerns, but now they are vastly different than they were 10 years ago when I gained the badge of motherhood. When you are a widow, parenting becomes a whole different ball game. The worry/concerned is amplified to a level that is at times deafening. That scary, frustrating balance of being two parents. Being present but constantly hoping that the one not present IS in some way, shape or form.
Looking at my kids, watching them grow is at times bittersweet and maddening. Seeing how much they have changed on the outside, knowing how much they have changed on the inside...well, at times it could send me straight to the liquor cabinet. Feeling, in a really concrete way, they are all I have. Not only my mark on this world, but profoundly their father's too. I question my methods. I wonder if I am doing enough. I talk a good game, and I act like I have it all together. Then, very unexpectedly, life hits me. All the times it has nudged me before, I've wrapped it up and put it in the bottom drawer, as if to say, "...I'll deal with that later, maybe when I have five minutes to myself..." Later, unfortunately happens when it wants, is amplified, and knocks you out at the knees.
This time, I couldn't avoid it. I saw it in the smallest of behaviors, and the simplest of gestures...apparently, we had all put off feeling some things for a while.OIn one modest Sunday morning, we had a biter and someone packing a bag to run away...now that's a one two punch to the parenting belt. I couldn't stop the emotions that my kids were working through, and I felt the same coming on in myself. We had to deal with it. We had to talk out the hard stuff. We had to cry. We had to find our common ground again. It's always interesting to me that the dread of grief, leads to this feeling of a GIANT exhale. Also, the ability to see life from yet another angle through your kids eyes is life changing...and I'm grateful for it.
I write a lot about Nora as she talks nonstop about everything. I'm surprised and grateful for her strength to be open and honest about how she feels about life. I hope it never goes away. I worrying about my kids has become my unpaid second job, I'm at odds most when I think of Atticus. He has no capability of remembering Jason. He was only 9 months old when his dad passed away, yet somehow he understands the concept of parents. I've seen him playing with action figures or doll house dolls. He gets that the men are Dads and the women are Moms. No matter how many times he is shown pictures of Jason, the lack of any personal memories about his Dad crushes me at times and leaves me feeling slightly hopeless.
Then, this morning...over M&M pancakes and hot chocolate, no I'm not trying to make my kids diabetic, there were bananas hidden in those pancakes... Hot chocolate mug in hand, Atticus looks at me and points to a picture on the wall and says "...that's MY dad...". I told him yes, he was right. He then looked at Abe and said "...hey Abe? That's MY dad..." It was the most profoundly gratifying thing that has happened to me in a while. Out of this tiny terror's mouth, came what I had worried never would be understood. He got it...
More than a compliment from a stranger...More than matching all the socks in the laundry...More than no one complaining about the meal they are given...More than even making it through the day in one piece... I will remember this day for a long time, as a reminder that no matter how much I worry, question, or stumble through the title of motherhood, I must be doing something right...
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
...lucky underpants...
It's not a foreign feeling. I've done it twice before. I thought it would leave me feeling different than it did. I sent my third child to preschool today. It left me feeling kind of conflicted...a mixture of excited and nostalgic. Not sure if it's because this one has been home with me the longest? Not sure if it's because I feel this one has been desperate for peer interaction? Not sure if it's because her littlest brother has been pretending to talk to her all morning on a fake cell phone? But, as Oscar stated rather solemnly at the breakfast table this morning "...Nora, these are the last few hours of freedom, you better enjoy them, there's no going back..."
She is overly verbal- wonder where she gets it? She's eager to be in a room full of kids, raise her hand, show what she knows, and learn new things. It's heartwarming to see so much excitement about what most take for granted. Last night I asked her what she thought school would be like, and she said she had only seen school on TV, would it be like that? I told her maybe. She very seriously looked at me and said "...you know, I haven't mastered much math yet...". I told her not to worry about it, I haven't mastered much math either, and I no longer go to school.
Nora and her Aunt Gail picked out an outfit for the first day (she's way more fashion forward than a mom). The description of said outfit was priceless, completely Aunt Gail...
"...she has a dress, white ankle socks, tennis shoes, 3 hair accessories, and her lucky underpants..."
And when I found her this morning this morning she was whipping up the beauty, putting on her lucky underwear and told me she would meet me downstairs. She was giddy. She was bouncy. She was starting to drive her brothers insane. Atticus must have said 49 times "...I ride bus to scccoooll?" To which I repeatedly told him no one was taking a bus to school. Finally at the 49th time I said "YES, now go look out the front window and wait for it to get here!"
We, her sidekick of the last 2.5 years and I, drove her to school. We took the obligatory picture in front of a school sign. She ran in, and kept saying, "I'm so excited!" No tears like the two dozen or more times I've left her with people to even run errands. No look of 'YOU CAN'T LEAVE'. It was nice. I had this strange feeling of pride and excitement for her. As I mentioned before, she's stayed home with me the longest. By this age her brothers would have had a year of preschool and be starting kindergarten, their birthdays were more perfectly timed...and I feel lucky to have been able to be home with my only girl for so long. Never mind being outnumbered, it's SOLIDARITY SISTER!
Within 1.8 minutes of being in this preschool, regardless of the fact that this was HER first time here, she was telling another classmate where to hang their backpack. I thought, she's got this...only to look down at Atticus bawling his eyes out! Partly because he couldn't stay, and partly because Nora was. I've got to be honest, I never saw that coming. He spent the rest of the morning talking like she was here, wanting to know when she'd be home, and slightly milking his desperation for all it was worth. When the bus actually did come and drop Nora off, she got out, raised her hands in the air and yelled, "BEST DAY EVER!!!"
For me, it's another milestone that I've compassed single parenting. I was wondering if dread was going to flood through me today. I woke up early and started the coffee just in case I needed a bit of a meltdown myself. I'm not sappy about my kids going to school, but our circumstances are different than they were when my others went. I realized that we all have a hand in raising each other. My kids are all really great kids. They know their strengths, know others weaknesses, let's face it they are kids. BUT they all have a hand in how we, for the lack of a better term, all turn out. However, the one I was going to send out in the world, she's been my therapist, my touchstone to reality, my best girl friend. Hell, if she were old enough she'd be a drinking buddy. Watching her turn the corner on so many (lets face it, a lot of crafts to hang) really great new experiences...without her mom hanging around. I knew she was ready. I was just really, really relieved, delighted and strengthened to see that SHE knew she was ready...and now, onto the fundraisers!
She is overly verbal- wonder where she gets it? She's eager to be in a room full of kids, raise her hand, show what she knows, and learn new things. It's heartwarming to see so much excitement about what most take for granted. Last night I asked her what she thought school would be like, and she said she had only seen school on TV, would it be like that? I told her maybe. She very seriously looked at me and said "...you know, I haven't mastered much math yet...". I told her not to worry about it, I haven't mastered much math either, and I no longer go to school.
Nora and her Aunt Gail picked out an outfit for the first day (she's way more fashion forward than a mom). The description of said outfit was priceless, completely Aunt Gail...
"...she has a dress, white ankle socks, tennis shoes, 3 hair accessories, and her lucky underpants..."
And when I found her this morning this morning she was whipping up the beauty, putting on her lucky underwear and told me she would meet me downstairs. She was giddy. She was bouncy. She was starting to drive her brothers insane. Atticus must have said 49 times "...I ride bus to scccoooll?" To which I repeatedly told him no one was taking a bus to school. Finally at the 49th time I said "YES, now go look out the front window and wait for it to get here!"
We, her sidekick of the last 2.5 years and I, drove her to school. We took the obligatory picture in front of a school sign. She ran in, and kept saying, "I'm so excited!" No tears like the two dozen or more times I've left her with people to even run errands. No look of 'YOU CAN'T LEAVE'. It was nice. I had this strange feeling of pride and excitement for her. As I mentioned before, she's stayed home with me the longest. By this age her brothers would have had a year of preschool and be starting kindergarten, their birthdays were more perfectly timed...and I feel lucky to have been able to be home with my only girl for so long. Never mind being outnumbered, it's SOLIDARITY SISTER!
Within 1.8 minutes of being in this preschool, regardless of the fact that this was HER first time here, she was telling another classmate where to hang their backpack. I thought, she's got this...only to look down at Atticus bawling his eyes out! Partly because he couldn't stay, and partly because Nora was. I've got to be honest, I never saw that coming. He spent the rest of the morning talking like she was here, wanting to know when she'd be home, and slightly milking his desperation for all it was worth. When the bus actually did come and drop Nora off, she got out, raised her hands in the air and yelled, "BEST DAY EVER!!!"
For me, it's another milestone that I've compassed single parenting. I was wondering if dread was going to flood through me today. I woke up early and started the coffee just in case I needed a bit of a meltdown myself. I'm not sappy about my kids going to school, but our circumstances are different than they were when my others went. I realized that we all have a hand in raising each other. My kids are all really great kids. They know their strengths, know others weaknesses, let's face it they are kids. BUT they all have a hand in how we, for the lack of a better term, all turn out. However, the one I was going to send out in the world, she's been my therapist, my touchstone to reality, my best girl friend. Hell, if she were old enough she'd be a drinking buddy. Watching her turn the corner on so many (lets face it, a lot of crafts to hang) really great new experiences...without her mom hanging around. I knew she was ready. I was just really, really relieved, delighted and strengthened to see that SHE knew she was ready...and now, onto the fundraisers!
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