I have been contemplating writing something in honor of Mother's Day since Saturday morning as we were rushing around trying to make it to meetings, and I know that this is my third Mother's Day, but this is the first time it sunk in that I am indeed a mom. Sounds crazy, right? Q is two and a half and T is almost ten months, and the fact that I am a mom and therefore responsible for all aspects of two little girls well-being, education, happiness, and welfare is just sinking in. Don't let that fool you. I work very hard to be the mom my girls need and deserve. Quite honestly, I feel absolutely inadequate to be their mom on almost a daily basis. T has been sick upon sick upon sick, and I hate that I am powerless to prevent that. Q has daily meltdowns because--well, she's two--and I hate that I have to take a deep breath and count to ten everytime. I found myself yelling at her last night for not listening when I repeatedly asked her not to jump on the laundry pile and make it a bigger mess. I stopped mid-sentence and looked at her WIDE and innocment eyes and thought, "Seriously?! What is wrong with me?" The laundry doesn't matter and she is more than happy to help me "fold" and make a neat pile. Those little things just really shouldn't matter.
What does matter is that we get to play outside and color the driveway with sidewalk chalk. We get to lay in the grass and pick up worms (ew!) and rake up the grass and swim and run through the sprinklers and lay on the floor or the couch and watch movies while eating popcorn. We get to color pictures and rearrange the magnets and throw toys all over the living room just to pick them up and do it all again. We get to play dress up and sing songs and go on walks and eat ice cream. We get to spend days reading and learning and falling and making mistakes and picking ourselves up to learn more and run faster and jump as high as we can. While my little girls are growing up, I am having a second childhood. I love being the mom. I love waking up to their faces everyday and kissing them goodnight. This is the job I was put on the Earth to fulfill. This is my calling. I am not always the best. I do not always do it right, but I wouldn't trade this for anything. Not anything.
Something else happens, and somehow you realize that you can apparently take one more thing and pile it on top of the baggage of things you have to do, stuff it into the emotional duffle bag, squeeze it into the backpack of worry, and zip in into the fanny pack of anger. Vague much?
Well, here it is...despite my reservations about public education and the spiral it seems to be careening down, I had a job interview at a high school recently. No, I really didn't tell anyone about it, and I gave the interview my all. However, I didn't feel great about it and they didn't call be back for a third and final interview. So, still no full time job that would allow me to financially support my family while turning over the raising of my children to someone else...do you sense that I am conflicted here?
The hubby has been unsuccessfully looking for employment since he has been in Greeley (oh, yeah...we're apart again, although Greeley is closer than Texas, although we hardly get to see each other and he never gets to see the girlies).
My happy and healthy T has to go see a pediatric orthopedic specialist this week because no one thought (I'll take some blame for this too because I did think about it once and then forgot to ask) to X-Ray her hips when she was a newborn and now she may need hip surgery...at 9 months old. If you ask me about this and I burst into tears, please do not be alarmed. I am not dealing with this one very well, AND we haven't even seen the specialist yet. Just the thought...just the thought.
We will deem April 2013 as the month of yuck. We had a great and healthy winter...and April and it's freakish snow storms came a-calling, and I think one or all three of us have been sick since April 1st. We are still dealing with runny noses and Q ran a temp for the last few days. I am praying this is all of it. I'm a bit tired of it.
Amazingly, I am looking forward to the summer months. I hardly ever do. I am a cold weather girl, but I need some sun therapy. These past few days here in Colorado have been amazing! Don't worry though, we will start May with more snow. Yep. May. Snow. Here we go!
We have all been sick over a period of about two weeks with this last week being the culminating week of MAJOR sick. I have finally grown tired of the sound of "mmmmoooommmmyyyyy" in a whiny two-year-old voice with absolutely nothing else attached to it.
Holy mother of all that is holy! If you have never experienced the frustration attached to this sound, be grateful. Even now, as she is feeling better, snuggled on the couch watching Finding Nemo and drinking some milk, every few minutes she has to yell, "Mmmmmooooommmmyyyy!" Is it bad that I have stopped answering every time?
I think that even her two-year-old brain is plotting a take over--a coup d'etat--for the spot of supreme ruler of the household. I don't really know why. Today she can have it if it means that she will clean and do the laundry and run to the store for me and look for a new job and...and...and...you get the picture.
Why is it that when everyone is sick that you find yourself in a dark, dark place where sunshine cannot live? I need out of that place. A new week dawns tomorrow. Let's hope it brings with it the hope, help and happiness we are seeking.
It's a weighty thing, and I don't think any of us can be really sure how it will affect us or hit us from day to day. It hasn't been quite two months since we lost Gram, and I am feeling rather lost and a bit panic-y. When Nick was gone last year while I was pregnant with Tessa, I made him make a plan with me as to what would happen to our girls if, heaven forbid, something happened to me. While we were running errands yesterday, I needed to make sure he still knew the plan as we had discussed it as he will be away from us again for the majority of this year. No, I am not planning on leaving this Earth, but I don't want to ever be left without a plan. Yes, I am experiencing what I would call my postpartum days. In other words, I haven't felt this down and lowly in about five or six months--since T was a newborn. I'll work myself out of it. It's okay to be sad and a little lost sometimes. I'm sure that whatever waits for me on the other side of this fog is gorgeous!
Admittedly, I have trouble with this lately. It is hard to remember to count your many blessings when so much seems to be going wrong. I know I am blessed daily, but there are times when those blessings are a little more obvious than others. Twice this week, we have been blessed with our own little miracle. Twice, I have been spared from having to fork over money that we absolutely do not have right now to fix our cars.
First, we had to take the Escape in for some work when the check engine light was blinking on and off at me and the whole car seemed to be shaking. We took it in and had the initial work done on it, paid $680 for the repairs and brought it home. Less than 24 hours later, the engine light was back at it. So, I made the call, took it back in, and the dealership agreed to fix whatever was wrong at no cost to us. "Sorry we missed it the first time." No offense to the dealership, but since that second repair was $1000 repair, I am not all that sorry that we had to take it in a second time. Saved us a pretty penny, so thank you for missing it the first time and fixing it for us the second!
Second, my Fusion check engine, oil and maintenance light have been on for a month or more. Probably more. The initial test on it came back with another dealership telling us that we needed to replace the transmission. Dude! That is SO expensive. I don't have $8500 just lying around to spend on anything. So, the car sat in my driveway while we tried to figure out exactly how to handle this one. The dealership where I took the Escape (where we bought it--it's a bit of a drive from our house, so I took the Fusion to a closer one at first) without looking at it, based on what the other dealership had told us gave us a better estimate ($5600), and, of course, wanted to look at it which they have not yet.
It's no secret that we currently have to have a breathalyzer device in the Escape in order for Nick to have his license. The dumb thing malfunctioned and locked me out! So, I had to take the girls in the Fusion the few blocks to get it looked at. The technician jumped back in with me to make sure that it was functioning properly and the Fusion was driving him nuts. He convinced me to allow his one of his mechanics to look at it for me, and let me tell you, I am so glad that I did. Two wires, 45 minutes and $200 later, the Fusion runs like a dream!
All I can say is, "Thank you" to a loving Heavenly Father who watches out for this stubborn girl.
She's seven months old? How in the world did that happen so fast? I remember waiting and watching every move that Q made and thinking that she would never eat solids or crawl or walk or talk. Is that just how it is with the first? Time crawls because you are waiting and waiting and waiting for all these milestones? Then why does time FLY with number two? Because I am suddenly an expert? Hardly. Because big sister keeps me on my toes? Probably. I am just amazed by it all! I thought it would be fun to do some side by side comparisons of the girls at the same age. Enjoy them! I know I do.
Oh, Hollywood! Thank you for giving me the most ridiculous expectations of love. I mean it. Truthfully, I live a love story that is stormy and challenging, and I need these moments to revel in the love story of someone much more tuneful in their love.
I used to spend Valentine's Day pining away for a true love! Someone who could and would sweep me off my feet. I can honestly say that I have been swept off my feet twice--and both of those relationships lasted but a moment--what will equate to mere seconds in Eternity, I am sure. That swept-off-my-feet feeling was fun. Not real. Lustful, really...the floor that I hit when my feet flipped over my head and reality rose up to meet me caused lots of bruises. Lots and lots of scrapes and torn ligaments. All this really was, was me stretching my love muscle. Learning what I want and do not want from a relationship, and let's be honest, testing my ability to forgive, to let go, to clean up, and to move forward.
"We should remember that saying 'I love you' is only a beginning. We need to say it, we need to mean it, and most importantly we need consistently to show it. We need to both express and demonstrate love."
"I love you" is such an important phrase. It means so much, and sometimes people throw it around too liberally. I think that often times we say, "I love you" just to hear it back. Just to confirm that we are indeed loved.
In order to be loved, you must give love. Love is not a material thing. You cannot buy it. You cannot buy someone's love with bribes or toys or treats or money. It doesn't work that way! You may secure affection for a short time, but attempting to bribe someone into loving you is a sure way to build resentment, anger, and eventual hatred.
I have been working on this post for DAYS. It is random. It is broken and may not really make sense. I am skirting around what I am really feeling this Valentine's Day. I appreciate that there is a day devoted to love. Not for the presents or the flowers or the chocolate. Not because I have always had someone, because I honestly have not. I have, however, always been loved. By my mother, my father, my sisters and brother. By my grandparents. By my friends. Valentine's Day should be a day that we take a moment just to remind the people we love that we love them! I mean, why not?! Don't join the hype if you don't want to, but don't knock this day of love.
My love story is a complex one. I will, once again, spend this day away from my Valentine thanks to forces out of my control. And, once again, as I evaluate the state of my current situation, I will say that while the road has been bumpy and the journey has already been long, I am more in love today than I was yesterday, and I will be more in love tomorrow than I am today. The fight for my family will likely never be over. Right now I travel a hard--and often lonely--road. And while this may not make sense, even in the loneliness, there is love.
So, Happy Valentine's Day to all the lovers, the friends, the caregivers, the guardians, the grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings, and parents. I'm sending all my love to you!
She's seven months old? How in the world did that happen so fast? I remember waiting and watching every move that Q made and thinking that she would never eat solids or crawl or walk or talk. Is that just how it is with the first? Time crawls because you are waiting and waiting and waiting for all these milestones? Then why does time FLY with number two? Because I am suddenly an expert? Hardly. Because big sister keeps me on my toes? Probably. I am just amazed by it all! I thought it would be fun to do some side by side comparisons of the girls at the same age. Enjoy them! I know I do.
