Hiatus

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toying around somewhere else...

I AM an Oxymoron

One of my favorite ever moments from high school was sitting in Mr. Pardee's Chem class with... Jen? Was it you Jen? Weren't you in honors everything so it couldn't have been you in there with me?

Anyway, Mr. Pardee was one of my three or four most memorable teachers ever. He was funny for one thing. He would routinely go off on tangents every so often that would take the entire class period on purpose for another. I just tried to give examples of what those tangents would be and both of them couldn't be explained with any sort of justice. It was just awesome to be in his class. He would also routinely break into giggles. One of those occurred when he was doing some sort of experiment using rocks and light and described one of the rocks as blackish/whitish. Jen, I swear it was you, I can so hear you laughing not quite out loud saying isn't that an oxymoron? And he laughed so hard in the same manner.

Anyway, I am an oxymoron. I OFTEN feel that way and often feel misunderstood because of it. As in, YES labor hurt like a you know what and I didn't enjoy the pain at all, not even a little. But that doesn't mean that having the babies, and yes including labor, wasn't the most awesome adventure, the coolest challenge, most proud experiences of my life. And YES I can be crazy totally proud that I "pushed" a total, a combined TOTAL of 6 times amidst all my labors for a combined time of probably under five minutes? Does that mean I judge or look down on anyone who pushed for days (JenG you're Superwoman) - NOOOOOOO. But IIII can be proud of my own crazy body can't I? Even if its just genes? It was MY race to run and I'm not comparing with everyone else's race run on a totally different course and terrain.

So, yes I can see why people can think they know one thing about me only to have me tell the story completely different on a different day. Does this make me duplicitous? NOOO, actually it doesn't. A high school friend of mine had this vision of authenticity that the best sort of person was someone who's loved ones would gather at their funeral and everyone would have had the same experience as to who she was. Even then I blanched at that. I'm so different based on who I'm with. I always have been. Am I lying and faking and being inauthentic? No. Different people bring out different things in me. Different people need different things from me. Different situations make me feel different ways. I'm flexible - in every way as it turns out.

So I'm confident. And I'm not. I'm social. And I'm not. I enjoy my cave dwelling. And I enjoy nature. I hate bugs. And I still hate bugs. BUT I find them cool if they aren't going to get near me. I'm not adventurous at all. And yet, if I'm not being pushed, I'll do a lot of what you think I wouldn't.

What I am almost always, is prepared to fight someone pushing me. Which is pretty fascinating considering I don't think I was pushed much as a child. My mom tried VERY hard to push only in the most important areas, not smush me (as in my personality) into the ground. My dad, well hey - he believes VERY strongly in his kids being exactly who they want to be. So apparently what that all did for me was make me pretty possessive of who I am. Strong and proud and a bit suspicious of all you out there poking at me. ;)

At the same time? I'm waiting for the people that love me the very most to be willing to push me - just a bit. When I'm looking over the edge of somewhere I don't want to go. I want the people that love me most to trust me the most to know that actually I do very much want to be able to go *there* (wherever there is) and all I need is a little shove. What does that shove look like? Well, it's not sarcasm (unless it's really good sarcasm). It's not belittling. It's not guilt. It's not doubtful. It's not weak. It's casual, but insistent - they're not even looking at me, but staring off at something else - "Go ahead - you'll do great" and then shove. It's something to do with faith and trust in me. Not me in them. A stranger is much more likely to successfully convince me to do something I don't want to do than a friend. Because the stranger isn't giving me attitude about how I *should* do it but I probably can't because I am crippled in some way.

We used to have family friends who lived in the Pasadena area. We were visiting as a family during a huge rain storm all those years ago. I was still elementary aged and by FAR the youngest of the group. Everyone decided we'd all take a run in the rain. Everyone else had someone their size or near to borrow clothes from I think. Maybe the rest of my family will remember why I was the only one in a bathing suit. A borrowed teenager's bathing suit. Maybe I had had a tizzy about getting my clothes wet - I don't know. But I remember them trying to coax me into doing it and ALL I wanted to do was jump off the stairs and join them, and for the life of me I couldn't.

I was choked with insecurity or SOMETHING. And my mom had to push me. It wasn't the sort I described because hey - I'm sure I just LOOKED like I was having a snit. But inside I remember knowing I was coming off the exact opposite of how I felt and I just couldn't figure out how to express it! In fact, I think I can even now trace it to a very specific misunderstanding. I think I was looking for some sort of reassurance about the bathing suit - and whatever someone said - it wasn't the key I was looking for. I just kept waiting for someone to say what I wanted them to say. I finally did go with them, and it was a lot of fun. But I'll always remember how I had gotten myself in this huge predicament completely "innocently" because I'm sure that happens to kids all the time.

(There is such ATTITUDE in the way they can say something and half the time they don't MEAN to be horribly rude... and they do have to be taught obviously how to express themselves politely, but I hope the times that happens to Abby on a big scale are SLIGHTLY diminished because I remember and maybe I can save her from herself now and again.)

Anyway, I was thinking of all this because of the photography season coming up - but I suppose I'll save that for the next time I blog... which might be next year...

What Finn Doesn't Want me to Say

He's a cupcake, I don't know what to say. A tough, boyish cupcake, it's true - he's interested in cars and how they go - he's interested in exploration and doing ANYthing that Jack is doing. He is uninterested in toys that aren't loud or don't have wheels He walks around - already a veteran walker at 11 months old, with this total confidence - when he looks at you it's with this expression, "I know, I'm the frosting on the cake, you love me, here, I love you too." Then he either runs over to cuddle or makes a quarter turn to follow some path invisible to me.

Don't worry Finn - cupcake doesn't mean you are a pushover. Jack pushes you down casually two times or more a day and you sort of shrug, get back up and plow back in - you might totally adore your big brother but intimidated by him, you are NOT.

He wanders more than either of my other two. As my mom clarifies, he's totally fine to wander off from his caretaker, but he is really offended if his caretaker tries to wander off without him. It's pretty funny - once he's assured that you're sat somewhere and not trying to go anywhere THEN he'll go off searching all the other rooms of the house. He'll check in now and then, looking at you as he passes the hall, give you that "I know, I know, I'm just a blessing to your world."

This extends to being absolutely shocked that someone might say "no" to him, in fact, he thinks you're probably joking. Gives you a sweet tolerant smile and continues about his business. IF in fact you decide to insist that you are actually in charge, Finn gives you a look of frustrated indignation - furrowed brow and all.

standoffish much?

so I can't sleep once again. granted its not very late yet. so i feel the need to focus my mind on something... can't put my finger on what. want to share with anyone? no, not really. write out a journal? no... blog... eh... no, what came to mind on how to feel some sort of closeness with the world was to want to shop. that's just weird.

House of Waffles

Today I was reading yet another post from Jen in which she made me laugh out loud and yet also managed to make me choke up at the thought of her comfy pjs being cut up into the rag pile. And I thought how funny Jen can be, and how goofy. And a part of me who was feeling rather drab in comparison said, 'I can be goofy' which I'm sure a lot of you know.

But it's more than her being funny - what makes her so funny to read is because she is SO open. But not 'demean my husband and kid's sort of open, just very 'this is a real slice of me' sort of open. It's not everything, which I'm lucky enough to be certain of since we are more than internet friends, though seriously, that hardly matters since I can be a lot more friendshippy online than I can at home while changing my children's diapers for the sixth time in two hours. Okay, fine, fine, I admit that there is SOME value of actual face to face friendship time, as I have seen when I am lucky enough to hang out with some of my friends... in reality... without typing... like in actual physical space.

Anyway how I felt ...

Sigh, I suppose this is why. The cutee boys are awake. Which means, wel its all about them, which is fine for now.

Read between the lines this post made sense, i swear.

edited to add: No I know. I don't want to be anyone else or in anyone else's shoes. What I was thinking was how I used to be open and now have a really really hard time with it... and nothing in particular has changed in life that has burned me to the point that that should be the case. And Jen's post made me see the difference in myself very clearly.

And I was going to ponder what changed... but...there were little baby butts to take care of.

9 months & counting

Ha. Made you look.

No, nine months of having a family of FIVE and no picture. I do have the ONE Sarah helped me wrangle out of the kids at Easter which I don't like of ME except when I'm looking away from the camera:



The plan? Try family picture today. Don't tell Steve.




Thanks David!!

Ode to Finn

This kid is a charmer. A sweet deliscious little charmer. He's sitting out on Gramma's balcony right now, making eyes at me while he innocently chews on a leaf. When I yell, "No -ew -ick!" he gets wide-eyed and startled (I couldn't possibly be talking about him), then he laughs, (if I'm talking to him in such a manner, I must be joking) and smiles coyly, and puts another leaf in his mouth.

He's a total adventurer. He wanders around his space like neither of the other two ever did put together. He goes for everything that can't be for him, he vaccuums up everything he finds on the ground - thats NOT food of course - where would be the adventure in eating food?

When I put him to bed without nursing he looks at me with this look. This skeptical, "uh- what do you think you're doing- sigh, really? I don't think you want to do this. Let's think this through together, Mom, huh? Be reasonable, I know you'll see it my way."

He's big on eye contact, big on crawling right on through whatever might be in his path - whether it be person or object or door or step. DOesn't seem to matter how annoyed Jack is that Finn is climbing or shadowing him, Finn just keeps right on. It doesn't seem to be his problem if someone is upset, that's for sure. It can't be that he's slapping Jack in the eye while I'm changing the elder's diaper. No, that can't be it, maybe if he pats harder, that will help.

He's patient and hilarious and a big ole' chunk of lovely awesome baby.

Ode to Abby

The thing that still most amazes me about Abby June is her emotional connection with... everything. From herself, to her family, to her friends, to the characters in her stories.

It's easy to miss her while she's gone. Despite the fact that she tends to have a problem figuring out how to STOP TALKING FOR ONE MOMENT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL.... she is also constantly in tune with Jack and Finn. She loves them despite the fact that their love for her is a tad... well a whollop overwhelming. She doesn't even complain when Finn is literally just grabbing fistfulls of her hair just for the fun of it.

I see where the dangers are going to come in, I do. She's so good with them it's hard not to rely on her. And boy, though they think the sun rises and sets by her, they also expect her to concentrate all her attention on them. They are jealous of her distractions and impatient for her reaction.

Of each of the kids she has the most self-doubt. She cares so deeply about people that it acts as a double edged sword. Obviously the negative is that what people do, how they react to her, matters a lot. But on the other side, she is such a people person she attracts people like crazy.

Before she left for DC to visit Auntie Samantha she said she was worried. She said, "I know you want me to meet new friends in DC and have a fun time, but I think I won't be able to. I think people will see this sad face and not see any happiness." (this all because she was going to miss me).

No matter how much she desperately wants to be anywhere than home with anyone but me, it's not personal ;). And she still needs me to come home to.

Ode to Jack

Jack is currently re-dramatizing the entire plot of "Hero of the Rails" much to the thanks of Gramma being a sucker for Thomas the Train as a set and now to me for rushing to get the play along 'patchwork hiro' train.

I am a new sucker to toys. The thing that I think I realize is - though Abby of course loves presents - she loves and has ALWAYS loved people first. A toy, a game, a set of anything was fine, but soon discarded in favor of a person. Therefore, toys to me - always have felt sort of like a shrug - sure she gets a high at first but there are so few presents that have endured for Abby.

Well Jack, my guy, he's a different kettle of fish all together. He sees a story whether it be book or movie and he wants to live it. In fact, anyone trying to play along just rattles him. Well, he still needs us for the books, but I'm sure we'll be discarded in favor of the book as soon as he can read.

I have video of him recreating scenes from CARS in which Mac drives along and McQueen squeels along a dirt track yelling, "Mac! Mac!" and comes along side to say with a lot of gibberish, "Hey, is me, Queen, Mac, oh no!"

He is just so *serious* about it, these are living breathing stories to him. Even the things that aren't even stories. We watch WipeOut and Jack finds the whole thing very contagious. Not only does he jump around on the floor egging on the contestents, "Run, run, run, run OOOOH!" but he creates his own wipeout zone, one that he is determined NOT to go thru unscathed. He jumps and falls but thats not enough - he jumps and he ricochets off the ottoman then back to the couch then, with a dramatic 'oof' to the floor.

You'd think I'd get used to it, but right now as he makes Gordon and Percy help to hide Hiro and distract Spencer - I just think Jack is amazingly wonderfully fantastic.

And then there's the naps. I think I've probably been too embarrassed to say exactly how incredible Jack's naps have been his ENTIRE life.

When Abby was in pre-school from 9-12 Jack would sleep from 9:45-11:30 then more often than not, fall asleep again on our way home from getting Abby. Giving me total free time while Abby was at school.

Then, when she went to Kindergarten he would sleep from 11-2, once again giving me the chance for peace, or the chance to have time with Finn alone.

He transfers mostly from the car. He has a routine that he accepts, nay, even likes. He is reliable mostly. It's really kept me sane these last two and a half years.

What Am I Ever To Do?

Now that the two things I've been worrying about for the five years we've lived in this house are taken care of? Well, I've worried about a lot of things, but these have been those guilty worries - the plumbing and the roof. Things we weren't excited about doing, things we avoided doing, things that could ultimately hurt us most in the end. And *bing* done.

Who's Mom is on First part 2

are we on Hell?


(sent via chat amongst other things. there was context but barely)

Who's Mom is on First or...

Okay - I need suggestions. I am going to try to start documenting the ever-often-forever mis-communications (um why is spell check tellig me that is wrong?) I have with my mom. And I need a title for them. Who's on first seems a little long - but maybe not. Ideas?

They happen whether we are talking on the phone, on instant messenger or in person. There seems to be no way to stop it. I've instituted a 'simple declarative sentences' plan which I'm sure has helped some - but... sadly not enough.

Okay.

First, a simple one.

I ask my mom is there anything she needs at the store? She tells me hot dogs for sure then continues to list things, but as shes doing this Jack is trying to get her to go upstairs, Finn is upset in the car seat and she's holding Max, it was Max or Bronx anyway... not causing trouble ... but there was another body. As she spoke I kept repeating the list verbally (including the stuff I needed)

I know I heard gold fish and go-gurt. So, me being the awesome over-achiever that I am, got every thing I heard.

I come back with a HUGE thing of rainbow goldfish. Do I expect delight and praise? I do. Do I expect a look of weary disgust when I present it to her? No, I do not. And yet that is what I get.

WHAT?! I ask, you SAID goldfish.

She said she DIDN'T need goldfish.

Oh for crying out loud...


But it's a good illustration. We both do this (Steve can attest to this as it drives him utterly bonkers). We give too much information. Or not enough of the pertinent information. Or too much peripheral information.

AND we both desperately want to be helpful, to give that extra mile, to make you all love us ;). Okay maybe not that. But we really stress about being "good" *insert relationship here*.

Mansion

In an interesting update from my house note before - I just came home after Gladys cleaned and the boys are asleep and Abby is at school. Not to mention I'm slowly slowly getting things that are so often left out put in a place so the house gets cleaner and cleaner as time goes. In these moments, THEN my house feels like a mansion that I adore.

Can I keep it this clean? Nope. I really can't. But I can keep getting better and better and eventually... it'll be ... well, better.

Lucky Gal

Abby had a fabulous time at "The Frog and Toad" with Zoozy & Gramma. Apparently it was outside and awesome in that the kids that were there got to play and play and play before the show. Abby (shock!) made some new friends. It is these advantages to being oldest that make me slightly less guilty about all the disadvantages - (the baby is sleeping, so no we cannot do x y z).

This Old House

fyi this is an incredibly boring blog post so I gave you a cute picture of Jack to look at

You know, we originally bought this house because it was (as Christi described it) a cosmetic fixer to begin with - i.e. we just needed to do a lot of surfacy stuff before we could be established and flourishing in the new house. We knew we couldn't handle a real fixer upper which would imply changing or adding to the floorplan and such. No, with our house it was just plain butt ugly inside. And it's true - the worst of what we could SEE was gone and done within the three week clense and purge before we moved in (which included painting like insane people, getting rid of the carpets and refinishing the floors and most of all just getting all the CRAP left behind OUT - and I should point out that we couldn't have done this without our village of family and friends helping out).

Impressive though that was we knew we needed (or had an inkling) to replace the electrical system, the plumbing (eventually), the heat/air, the asbestos under the kitchen tiles, the possible mold in the garage, updating the bathrooms, replacing the windows, redoing the backyard, the sunroom, the stairs...probably the roof... AND we knew that that there was still a LOT of cosmetic work to do.

Every couple of years we save up enough to do a big project. On the off years we save up energy to do some of the cosmetic work.

Sometimes I look at this house and I'm so proud of how cool looking it is. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed with the cosmetics much less the other stuff.

Certainly one issue with a fixer of any kind is that as soon as something is checked off the list, there is no time to revel in it before the next thing on the list pops up to the top of the priorities and then THAT is all we concentrate on.

We have gotten a LOT done recently. The biggest is the plumbing. That has been a specter over our shoulder for a LONG time. And it felt so validating that the plumbers agreed that we were moments away from a break. Like for once we got something taken care of before it caused extra damage.

Next is the roof. These are the two things that have most plagued my mind because these are the things that aren't just cosmetic. These are the things that mean peace of mind or not. Not that I'm saying camping in the living room anytime it rains hasn't been fun. I've enjoyed it. But I am so very happy to be on the verge of being out from under the need for a new roof. *ha, get it, get it?

Still to do? fix our ceiling after roof done. Hang pictures in most rooms. Windows? I might let the new owners (* and my timeline for this house having new owners is in the double digit years) worry about those. Update the bathrooms? Still not sure we're going to do that either (counting on the original stuff making someone say - oh good, they didn't mess up the original stuff). Some minimal painting? Shower curtain or door for downstairs shower. Cleaning and organizing. Some electrical touchup...

Not much really... not comparitively... this is exciting.

I just felt the need to recap.

NEW NEW NEW

I have a new laptop computer people. It is awesome. Actually, to be honest, to me it's just very very pretty - I'm very aware that the degree to which is is truly awesome will probably never been known to me as it is known to Steve.

Which is sort of similar to the way I saw the LOST finale.

Anyway, this beautiful laptop has ALL the keys of it's keyboard intact.

I have realized over the last ten years or so just how awful I am to buy a present for. I never knew I was awful before I saw Steve trying to be wonderful. And the problem was, once our finances were OUR finances, Steve didn't just have to be a mind reader and get just what I wanted. No, he's probably always got ten or so gifts in his thoughts that I would love and he knows very well that I would love... but... would also just not ever feel good receiving because they are expensive.

Well, I won't say EVER. It's just one of those things. No matter how much Steve is making or I am making for that matter "expensive" to me means $75 and higher. And I'm going to sweat that 75 bucks, believe me. I'm comfortable around 50... for a gift from the love of my life - yup, about 50 bucks feels extravagant but not stressful.

NOW the list of gifts that I'll really really love and really really get a kick out of (besides a words and time... oh how I love them) starts dwindling. After all, if I really really want that dvd when it comes out, we have an entertainment budget to get it. So why wait til my birthday? Yes, I know, I'm awful.

Anyway so what Steve has had to do is listen to me tap my fingers in frustration as I wait and wait and wait for pictures to load on my old laptop, watch me punch angrily at the "d" key and constantly wave off all suggestions of replacing the laptop because I was pretty sure the price tag was above the magic $75.

So the only way he was going to be able to give this to me without it ultimately feeling like I had in some way been to blame (we discuss purchases quite a lot - so if he'd said he was GOING to get me a new computer then I would have discussed us out of it, or if I'd agreed - felt like I had had a hand in it), was to completely go behind my back.

So voila. Here it is, and I'm so thrilled. But I'm MOST thrilled about the WAY he did all that. Because all that matters in the scheme of things. Not always, I don't expect him to have to mindread passed me all the time. But this time, being as it is such a totally selfish gift for me (i.e. it's mine mine mine, no you may not borrow it, no Abby cannot practice her ABCs on it, no Jack cannot watch a movie on it, it's MINE, all MINE)... it was just plain priceless to have the weight of the decision out of my hands.

Anyway, you may have guessed this is my first blog post on the new computer. This is also (and forgive me parents if I'm being an ungrateful forgetful jerk) but I think that this is also my first NEW computer ever that is mine (sensing a theme?)

In other news:
Samantha moved to Washington D.C. today. This sucks for us but is great for her. Bah humbug.
Finn is really really trying to follow the kids now- gates have to be at the ready. He is so ridiculously cute still. I'd show you pictures but I am behind on pictures. I'm very busy which is awesome, but it feels like a whirlwind. And finally we are finally finally finally going to have all the behind the scenes stuff done with this house. Plumbing & Roof are in the cards this year. From then, any home improvement in the budget will basically be cosmetic. Now that is freaking awesome.

I don't want to move anytime soon, despite Abby's impatience, but there is something about knowing that we really can't, with positive heart, put this house on the market as is. There is just something that screams "not going to get top dollar" about a non-cosmetically complete house which ALSO needs a new roof and new plumbing. But really, seriously, we're here to stay for quite a while. We are going to enjoy the lack of stress when it rains, my friends. Yes indeedy.

Need dessert.

I have no choice.

Abby has, for a while now... wanted a new house, a fancy house with stairs (go ahead try to argue with her that her CURRENT house has stairs and see how far it gets you).

Last night on the way home from Gramma's birthday dinner our conversation went something like this (prompted by our talk about Samantha moving across country)

"Momma, when is our house going to get old enough to be too old so we can move into a new one?"

"It's going to be a long long time baby, moving is a seriously big big big deal." (this goes back and forth a bit as I go on and on about money and escrow and packing up houses)

"But I'm not happy in our house, I'm sad all the time in it and I don't sleep too good in it either!"

*insert Mommy taking a deep breath and trying to do active listening since RESPONDING isn't doing any good "You're sad in this house and you don't sleep good?"

"Yeah, and I want something new."

"You want something new?"

"Yes."

*pause as I think, hey this active listening thing does make the responses easier... then Abby cuts in

"So, what's your decision?"

"My decision?"

"Are we moving or not?"

"No, we are not moving."

"Then I guess you have no choice"

"I have no choice?"

"I have no choice... I'm just going to be sad."

"Aww."

"Momma" (big sigh here), "Do you WANT me to be sad all the days of my life in this house?"

"NO I DON"T WANT YOU TO BE SAD ALL THE DAYS of your LIFE" (insert Momma blowing a gasket here) "You know some people work really really really hard to stay in one house their whole lives because they love it so much."

"Yeah, but Momma, we are NOT those people. I am not one of those people. I want something new, that's why I look out a different window every morning. I want a new view, I want new paint, SOMETHING, I want it so bad."

*Momma has a new angle, "Do you ever miss our old house?"

"No, but sometimes I miss Gramma's old house."

"There, see, what if we moved and you missed this house - it would be too late, we couldn't go back."

"Yeah, I might, but then I'd remember how SAD I was in it and I wouldn't care."

The Perfect Day

(without Steve anyway... )

Being a stay at home mom means that in a lot of ways my days are on an endless loop. The same basic things happen every day. Change does happen, usually in such slow motion that by the time a behavior or problem is resolved I've forgotten it needed resolving. It often seems as if a child has just woken up that morning with a whole new behavior, as if someone just magically flipped a switch; when actually its like we're in a constant state of "under construction". Before the switch could be flipped the wall had to be framed, the wires run, the wall boarded, the electricity hooked up, the switch connected, the little plastic plate screwed in...

This is why it's so frustrating when trying to explain to someone how excited I am that some subtle but vital change has been embraced. Like for instance, let's say rather than holding my hand after a nightmare, I insist that the child lets ME hold THEiR hand. Silly sounding huh? But those of you who know KNOW that its an important difference. It's the difference between having to pry your own hand out from the tenuously sleeping death grip of your child and simply gently letting your own grip loosen, then letting go entirely. Just trust me. It's a big and important milestone. Yet the person inevitably asks, well, why didn't you do that in the first place? Because, I explain, trying not to sound crazy or defensive: it wouldn't have worked before. It wouldn't have worked the night before or even a few hours before. Of course I could have insisted from the beginning but it would have been a battle against each other rather than a victory for both. Because I waited we were both ready.

Anyway, while "under construction" so many little interactions during those very similar days feel like the luck of the draw. I can have the exact same rules, enforce them in the same exact way and have drastic differences in the reaction of my kids.

Today, it just seemed like 7 out of 10 of those rolls of the dice were lucky.

Extracting Jack from beloved Gramma's presence was sad, and there was some screaming. But I threw out my arms to welcome in for some condolence and where 100% of the times previous he would have thrown himself on the ground, wanting nothing of my comfort, he hesitated, then walked right into my arms. From there he allowed distraction in the form of Phineas & Ferb.

Abby & Jack wrestled and played for a long time. Several times Jack was a bit too rough with Abby, but she handled it and so I could concentrate on nursing Finn, cleaning a little, making lunch.

Everyone ate, including Finn.

Jack and Abby were having too much fun, so I postponed Jack's nap by a few minutes; just enough time to get Finn sound asleep and down so that when I was putting Jack down, I didn't have to worry about what Finn was up to or if he was going to panic without parental presence.

Finn STAYED asleep after Jack was asleep (Finn's diaper rash has meant more fitful sleep - will probably have to call doc on Monday to see if we need prescription).

Abby and I cuddled on the couch while watching tv - SUCH a long time since she's gotten that sort of relaxed presence from us at a time that shes happened to be in the mood to veg as well.

I fell ASLEEP for at least two episodes. Amazingly necessary.

Jack stayed asleep for long enough that Finn was established in his oatmeal bath before Jack woke up.

Jack and Abby played happily while I let Finn air out and played "words with friends"

I got everyone dressed for church including myself (my hair was a mess, but I knew I'd be stuck in the nursery anyway).

Jack played in the nursery (with me there) with an older boy and a younger boy - there was very little screaming. After a while Jack realized the older boy could teach him some subtleties of one of the car racing toys, so he started paying attention. Granted there were stints in there where Jack was dragging me to the door to go to the car, but distraction worked where it hadn't worked last week. Finn fell fast asleep in one of the nursery worker's arms.

I didn't overeat or over spend at dinner.

The kids went to bed (Finn in my arms)

I got some time to think.

and now..

I am off to bed.

Just a day, but the kind I'm always striving toward - the kind where some small seams were sewn. (and some alliteration used ;)).

How Much of a Culprit

I am sitting here using Steve's laptop for no particular reason and I'm noticing just how I'm not terribly annoyed and stifled and generally cranky.

And I wonder how much my recent lack of interest in online life has to do with real life being too crowded and how much it has to do with missing several keys on my keyboard making it singularly horribly annoying to type anything.

hmmmm.

Jack is NOT a monkey

Now Don't Take this Wrong

But I don't like people.
And no I don't have a philosophical distinction about a person one on one and people.
Do I like YOU personally? YES of course I do.

So what am I talking about?
I think it's this feeling I get when I am feeling like an observer, unable to actually connect... and not particularly wanting to. This 'on the bleachers' sort of feeling. Where at first I'm enjoying just watching - I don't want to play whatever game is being played, I don't want to be the cheerleader either. I honestly truly like what I am, who I am, where I am - all that. I'm probably even loving the commraderie (hmmm, spelling?) in the bleachers.

But at some point, unintentionally, I let the cold seep in. Instead of feeling connected because the audience really does play a part, because we really aren't separate little islands in the stands amongst each other... something changes. I go from being completely happy to feeling alienated, alone, and...all of a sudden a very distinct and far away island.

The game that I loved a minute ago suddenly seems stupid and pointless. I'm cold and I just want to be home sitting with a blanket. The interactions around me turn from fun and silly to lame and inauthentic and way way way too loud.

And it's not just people - it's me too. When I think of trying to talk to someone, I'm uninterested
in my own talk - and besides I don't buy what I'm going to say anyway.

Which brings me to here. Where I'm going to have to find something to post real quick after this to let this one go further down the page. Luckily I have some ideas.

"Save"

I'd like to save a little moment forever please.

So I think Jack is fighting a cold because he took a four hour nap today. I went up to check on him (because that's what I do) and saw that he was already awake, staring up at the top bunk. I come to the side of the bed and smile and offer to pick him up. He sits up and stares at me, then reaches forward (sort of sleep heavy) and touches my nose. I laugh and offer to pick him up again. He does the nose thing again. So I climb in next to him and he wants to cuddle, but just for a second.

Then I ask if he wants to go downstairs and he does that little pure voiced, "Yeaaah!"

Again, I guess written out it seems not nearly as sweet as it was. But it just was. I love sleep-heavy moments.

Ugh

How many posts have I started over the last few weeks?

Alot.

What have they been on?

Mostly frustrations and impatience and cute things the kids have done and said.

One thing I absolutely love that Abby has said :
We were driving home from somewhere and Abby kind of gave a startled sound in the back of the car. I asked what was up and she said something about inside her eyelids and ideas, then got frustrated when she knew it wasn't making sense. I said I really want to know, so she finally got it out like this:
"My eyes were closed and I had a beautiful thing in my mind and I thought maybe, I hoped that when I opened my eyes, it would still be in front of me, that it would be actually true, but it wasn't and I was disappointed."
Now, that in itself made a beautiful impression in MY mind, but of course I wanted to know what this thing was. This was her answer, "I was imagining that I was the most beautifulest girl in the whole school."
Insert mom's heart breaking here.
I pause... not sure if I can insert my momish opinion here, but what the hey, "Abby, IIII think you already are the most beautifulest girl in school to me." (yeah, I wasn't striving for grammar perfection).
I can HEAR her roll her eyes, "No Momma, like with make up and everything... in a beautiful red dress... it was the Mom's Luncheon..." I think what she means here is like on tv when suddenly they get made over for a dance? Who knows. Just a beautiful but poignant sort of moment.

There are a lot of those around here. Like Jack gently tracing my face with his hands as he tries to go to sleep. Or when Steve got home tonight, Jack didn't say anything to him (usually he exclaims "Dayya!" and tries to lead him into the toy room. Tonight Jack ran into the toy room and ran back out with a ball outstretched, looking for his main play pal who had already been led away by Abby.

Jack is less impressed with Finn as time goes on, but every now and then as Jack passes, he'll pat Finn on the head absently. Sometimes he'll rush a binky over to him. Most of the time though, as Finn heads toward wherever Jack is playing, Jack's response is to give urgent "Uh oh" time cries as if a shark was stalking him in the water.

Finn absolutely adores me. Which is bittersweet of course because I don't know why... because I know I constantly fail him? I don't know why, but it's so sweet it hurts. But that little face searching me out in a room, locking on me, and not losing sight, with a hopeful eyebrows lifted sort of gaze... it's so purely loving. Of course he sort of adores everyone right now. He just loves someone to pay some attention to him. He's also a total faker which is hilarious. He likes to nurse to sleep - and he likes to nurse for pretty much any reason, so a couple times a day I'll be convinced he's starving and look at him in five seconds and realize he's asleep. He'll also go to sleep in the car and to music. He's a sucker for a good ballad. Last night my mom, while babysitting was sure Finn's stomach lining was cramping with hunger, but then he went to sleep on the way home to our house without nursing and slept for four hours. Ha!

Otherwise I'm operating on a lot of different but intense moods/emotions. I have a short fuse for me. I'm proud of what I can accomplish when not pregnant. I'm happy with everything basically. I'm also feeling like the biggest failure.

Speaking of, a few important, reliable people have "accused" (they wouldn't put it in that tone) me of being a perfectionist "recently" (time doesn't mean a lot to me right now). Now the first reason I scoff at this at first glance is because of the non-perfectionist nature of my home. I CAN live just fine with life in disarray. I will not sacrifice my favorite tv show or a chance to get chips and salsa in order to get that laundry done. I just want to do good, to do my best. But I'm not going to break mysellf to make things perfect.

For example, this is only the beginning of what I wanted to say and not really how I want to say it, but I'm tired so I'm going to bed.

It's Not As If

See it used to happen with Abby as well (I'm still on the Jack/too many people or strange places topic if you hadn't guessed). I'm not even sure how different this is. Abby used to drag her people into a more isolated space so she could have focused time. She used to melt down and we'd have to get going stacking things on our arms as we left in a flurry like some sort of cartoon. I just think she was more apt to explore and destroy by accident and Jack seems more likely to explore (and within his process is destruction). Was I just better at isolating? I know I went to the office a lot, that was a fantastic outlet because it could be for an hour or two minutes - if I left with her kicking and screaming over my shoulder, no one minded much as it was a frequent enough occurrence.

Jack did a pretty good job at Easter (but then again, Zoozy made everything super kid friendly where all those crowded people were). And, this is also what I remember from Abby - as soon as I recognized, OH! here's an issue, a pattern, let's fix it - the child has just decided to end that phase on their own.

Words are helping quite a bit. Mommy's hormones settling down to normal is helping.

We were at Aaron & Megan's today and the same thing happened - he wanted to be in the 'car' to go home even though he was having a great time. And the thing that drives me BONKERS is that he desperately wants to LEAVE home in the morning and afternoon.

WHY WHY WHY must my children tempt my insanity?!

Real Quick - Jack Pattern

It drives me crazy when I don't see a pattern that has been obvious for ages.

Jack has an issue with people.. or crowds... or SOMETHING.

Whenever we have guests, no matter how much he loves them, he doesn't want to be in the main room where everyone is. He insists on being in the toy room here, in Gramma's toy room when there are guests at her house, the living room when there are guests at Zoozy's house. He desperately tries to escape family events like Thanksgiving and other holidays - particularly if they are not in one of his "Safe" houses.

I'm not sure if he's shy or anxious or just plain anti-social. I've known all this but haven't. But recognizing it should help me prepare and change and... oh I don't know. Just... not sure... have noticed the pattern, have not gotten to the labeling the problem yet.

old haggard and nonexistent

Some days anyway.

Other days I feel energized by my weight loss, the pregnancy is over and I have this incredible little Finn (like a present from Santa I didn't expect) we're all on an upswing. On the good days I'm proud of the house looking better, I have the energy and happy mind to be on the wii - Jack lets me dance. On the good days, much as I joke, I don't need cupcakes to get me thru. I have pre-made meals coming in from both mom and mom-in-law helping me thru lunch to save money and eat non- obsessively and help everyone for dinner to be eating healthier, more widely varied, and also saving money. I have a routine for this new family of FIVE setting up nicely. There are still things completely falling by the wayside, but on these days I - well I was going to say on these good days I am optimistic they'll get back on track but actually its more likely that on the good days I just don't remember the things I'm missing.

But then there are the "I'm old, haggard and nonexistent" days. These are the days I'm either stuck on the couch nursing ALL the time so that I can actually feel my bones getting brittle as all the nutrients are transferred over to baby or the days that Steve has been slammed at work. Sometimes I can keep up, and there is a little feeling of empowerment of doing it all on my own (my family members that do all they do daily to help me 'do it on my own' are all laughing right now). But most of the time, this machine does not work without Steve. On these days the only bright spots are those little moments where I actually lock eyes with one of my kids and have a moment of real interaction. Turning tension into humor, turning nuthin' into a moment of tenderness.

I hate my little patch of gray roots, not because they make me feel old (I've had gray hair since college), but because its the one beauty thing that takes maintenance, that is very obvious and noticed that I can't make "cutely grunge" or "i look like this cuz I just worked out" chic.

There are so many things that I am so proud of - moments and achievements yet... it all seems so insignificant.

I feel like we are the opposite of the surface people that you think of as surface people. I feel surface people are going around with a smile on their face, pretending everything is perfect because they are ashamed that its not or because they want to be.

I am the opposite because I'm likely to go around as if the sky is falling because I don't want to look like a surface person or I don't want to alienate someone in pain by being so gidget that I'm from another planet... a surface frilly pink planet. But in fact I AM a surface person because underneath my worry and stress and general feelng of... whatever I'm feeling... I am exactly perfectly happy with absolutely everything in my world right at this moment. It's just that there is a lot of imperfection with right here and right now, and I'm not sure how exactly to get out of it. But I wouldn't change anything. The kids have to get thru now to get to later. And even though they sure do poop alot, they are incredible incredible kids.... and if they didn't poop - that would mean something was horribly wrong so... whatever.

The Dishwasher

One of those parenting things I never expect to work but that does: Jack used to love to get in the dishwasher - clean or dirty, glass dish, steak knife, he was messing with it all and all I could do (besides yell and scream and create a huge tug of war) was close it half way and encourage him to "close it." As the months progressed you can imagine how my half hearted attempts started to feel ineffectual and like I was losing and losing my mind to boot.

But lo and behold, the funny thing now is that I can't keep the dishwasher OPEN for more than 45 seconds as Jack hears the faint rustle of dishes and runs from miles around to come and proudly and securely "Close it!" often with the accompaniment of crashing and clanging as he doesn't put the shelves in before he closes the door.

Excuse me, that's MY lunch

Okay, you all should be able to feel the irony here.

So Jack is basically a real eater. He will try things... and like them... and not just because Yo Gabba Gabba tells him to. This is awesome.

Only problem now is that he just ate my lunch. I'm so thrilled with him being "an eater" I don't have the heart to stop him.

Gloomy

Abby. My girl.

Let's talk about your world.

MY world. Let's see, what's in my world.
I have a couple problems in my life (she actually said these words)
Using the old psychospeak (that's the repeating what she's saying rather than judging/advising etc what she's saying) I get out of her these things:
I'm gloomy ALL the time, and I just don't know how to stop.
What I do when I'm gloomy is I sing this song (she sings me a song), but sometimes, when I meet new people I don't sing them the song, I don't know why.
It's when I'm alone I can't help being gloomy, or when I'm with mean people. It's the people that carry me by my arm. I don't like that.

A friend at her school apparently pulls her around by her arm, but Abby doesn't want to tell this girl that she doesn't like being pulled around by her arm because Abby really likes being friends with this girl and she doesn't want her to be mad at her. And apparently everytime Abby tells her something to this effect, this little girl gets very angry, walks away and says "very mean things." She also buttons Abby's shirt up all the way up which Abby doesn't like either.

I know I could go the direction of getting all fired up and telling Abby that she doesn't need this sort of friend (the girl is actually sweet, but I don't doubt any of what Abby is describing), and Abby needs to stand up for what she wants and not get stepped on and blah blah blah. But I don't think thats how life works now. I did try to give her as much encouragement as I could without going so far down the advice road that I cut off the communication. It was a lovely sweet and sad time because it was all about how gloomy she is and how she wishes she could stop.

I did refrain from pulling a "my mom" and telling her that that never goes away and we all struggle with feelings of gloom now and then no matter how old we are. ;)

I think part of the gloom is actually a restlessness. I can see her gear up to ask me what "something fun" is on the agenda or "more snack" or "what is for dinner" : all these are hot buttons. I don't blow up, but they never go well. She's never satisfied really and really, are any of us ;). Yes, there are times, but if you really wanted to know there are quite a lot of "treats" out there that I wish I had, I just happen to have learned in my 33 years that it's inappropriate to go around whining out loud about it. It's kind of like when Wesley first started to walk (actually I think he started running first), Shannon would show me that he'd actually begin to wince several feet before he impacted into a wall or couch, but he couldn't seem to get his body to avoid the collision. That is Abby with these hot button questions. She knows neither of us are going to feel good about the exchange, she just can't seem to stop her mind from desperately seeking the answers.

Trying to teach contentment to a six year old... well, she's given me the road in obviously - as in this will help you be able to not feel gloomy all the time. She loves to look at the calender and see all her plans. That isn't a bad thing, in fact I think it should be one of my tools in helping her. But it takes time and time focusing on one child at a time is few and precious.

Her second problem in her life, by the way (there were three) was how when she tells me she wants to go to Hawaii I say we can't. (Yeah, I know, bring on the poor under-privilaged child face, I'm just not going to feel guilty we're not going to Hawaii every week).

Her third is between she and I, but its guilt again. She is so sweet and tries so hard to be just how she thinks she should be.

After talking a while on that one she said it was my turn to tell her any problems in my life.

I told her I was nervous about getting Jack to be as polite as her. She said, "What you have to do, momma, is just wait for his birthday... and then for another one, and another one... and then you'll get it" (which is probably totally true).

What else? I say, well, I have to do a lot of laundry tomorrow. And she seems to be happy with that one, it has a simple solution, "Well, we'll just write it down on a list, okay? how about that?"

And when I say there are no more problems in my life, she's happy for me. "So you only have TWO problems in your life?"

Pretty much, those are them! ;)

Should be "Burnt Out"

Despite currently being energized that I got all my laundry done in two days (contributing success mostly to finally getting close to a system of WHERE the laundry goes after its done and not being pregnant), I'm feeling burned out.

My biggest pet peeve at th emoment? freaking getting all the way to the point of saving an image in .jpg format (which in itself is a hassle because my computer is slow... okay its a laptop... okay it may have something to do with how much I have open... and how little space I keep open... but... hey - the blame game isn't going to help anyone people)... and realizing ... shoot, I need to do one more thing. Shoot. that shadow needs to get deeper and it ain't going to do it on its own. So I have to WAIT for the screen to come up before I can cancel and then it takes a second to cancel and (speak of the devil, apparently my startup disk is almost full)... and then I perform whatever duty I need for the picture and then have to save it again and then.. WORST case scenario I see something ELSE. dabnabit.

I can actually feel the knot in my shoulders right now. Oh well. Picture is worth it. Slight improvement is worth it.

Second biggest pet peeve? clicking on an application I don't mean to open. DearNESS the painful slowdown that causes.

An on't get me starte on my "D" key.

Poor Unfotunate Souls...

Okay, multiple kid shoots are always a challenge when the kids are under the age of ... say... 8. But I am realizing once again just how much we ask of kids when we try these things. Portraits of each kid? NO PROBLEM. It's the getting them all in one shot... and smiling or looking good in that one shot that is the issue. My client wasn't asking too much at all - she wasn't expecting the "smile and say cheese" - it's just for ME I want at least for the boys to be looking cool.

I had a shoot on Friday with the nicest but VERY boyish boys. And I wasn't sure if I got any magical three together shots so here I am searching thru the hundreds of photos I took hoping for a magic moment and I see that every single one of those boys aged 7-3 was trying SO hard, it's just they weren't synchronized. So I'd be concentrating on #3 and #2 would be sitting quietly and smiling while #1 is looking off. I just have this little guilt now that I didn't affirm the other two enough while I working with whichever one I was working with. Oh well.

Hoping to see magic in the gallery by the end.

Where does my help come from...

I'm in this weird space.

Which in itself sounds very 70s and unlike me. I would identify this space as the recovery period. It's that space right after a big scare or trial or something. It's where God has done His thing and brought us through some valley or another... showed us once again that this time anyway, the way He is going to work is to deliver us rather than teach us to figure out happiness and faith amidst the destruction. I'd identify this time as a sort of "buzzing with" time - where whatever was wrong is still buzzing in the air.

I was very very angry or ready to be anyway a few times recently and each time things were diffused, but not just set aside to be dealt with another day, RESOLVED. So the anger isn't repressed just waiting for the next time to be unleashed, it's just sort of dissipating slowly into the atmosphere, from the back of mind and out into the world. And until it's all gone, theres this buzzing.

And it's a buzzing of purpose - whatever has been keeping me back from organizing or getting a leg to stand on with the housekeeping is not holding me back as much - as things are getting done, it no longer feels like I turn around and they are back to a shambles again. I'm going into rooms feeling relief that they look great rather than going in and wishing I could slink away because every room is just a reminder of how nothing is working.

Similarly, it's a buzzing, coming down from the high of mindlessly eating my anxiety.

I think that had to do with Steve's new work situation in that his time is not really his own again. He's been operating on an incredibly strict but totally his own work ethic for years now, so to suddenly not have him to call when I'm in a quick fix need is weird. Have I really NEEDED to call on him with the two Grandmas around and aunts etc? Not more than a couple times, but it's just enough for my anxiety that he couldn't even if he wanted to... sort of... they don't actually chain him to the floor, they seem really nice actually and probably wish they weren't seeing him every waking working moment of their lives ;)...

There's also a buzzing of being put in my place. There was a brief period a few years ago that Steve didn't have the work coming in that he does now that he still went to the office every single day and wasn't late getting there and wasn't early coming home. He would fiddle a lot and he did have a lot going on, but point being, IIIII knew it was a temporary situation, IIII was confident he was brilliant and amazing and people would come to need his vision. So IIIII wanted him to take the time building up stockpiles of time with us. Well years later, the fiddling he was doing, the uncompromising way that he got up and went into the office even if he didn't have anyone breathing down his neck to do something specific that day, is bearing fruit. He's realizing he knows a lot more about his product than he thought. I think that God blessing him and confirming him. And it's also God saying to ME 'trust him. don't be such a know-it-all'

Also in photography... there is always this buzz. This buzz of excitement and frustration and wondering. And in this I just want to remember, always remember that anything with art is never mastered. No point being frustrated that I'm not better than I am because I have to be where I am in order to get better. A student... always learning... so I want to stop rushing toward a finish line that doesn't exist. Just keep swimming says Dory... just keep swimming says me...

And theres a buzzing of things that have been put on the backburner due to much much more pressing matters that are going to be calling out to be heard here soon.

I'm just at this place where ... I'm not quite on the balls of my feet - gearing up to sprint into action, and I'm not rocking back on my heels in satisfaction of a job well done... I'm just sort of...standing... watching to see which way the wind takes us. Grateful to God for getting us out of that last one. Grateful that progress is being made for the first time in a year.

Sure I could use more patience and a brain that focused on one thing for more than a few seconds. Or rather... I can't think through anything right now unless I'm writing it down and I don't have the downtime to be writing stuff down.

Which is why I wanted to write this down. This lyric, this praise song...

I lift my eyes up, unto the moutains
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from You, maker of heaven
Creator of the earth

Oh how I need you Lord
You are my only hope
You're my only prayer

So I will wait for You
To come and rescue me
To come and give me life

keeps going around and around in my head, and I knew it meant something specific, something special to me RIGHT now but not exactly what, and if there was a lesson to be learned, whelp, I'd just have to write it down in order to learn it.

and... what I think I'm learning right at this moment is that yes, we are in a recovery stage, a recovery that God has delivered us into and that we got here by God, for God, to God.
By God: He created the ladder out for us to climb out
For God: we're here for Him, to serve Him and to be witnesses of His glory - whether that means actually saying such things or just by being who He created us to be, by having more of a shine to us because He lives in us.
To God: finally our lives are a love letter or a thank you letter to God who I appreciate and love and serve not just because He's given me an overwhelming breadth of blessings and support and family and annoyingly right all the time husband, and breathtakingly sweet and wonderful kids... even without those things, my life is TO God. But wow, how much more so when I have so much to live up to, so much to be thankful for, so much to be in awe of God for.

anyway... my help comes from you... maker of Heaven, creator of the Earth.

Thanks God for being my friend when I'm lonely.

Thanks everyone else for walking alongside me even when my tunnel vision brain can't connect with you.

Where Am I at 2am?

Okay - thats not a Les Mis lyric. But I figure maybe I'll do "how am i" "what am i" "why am i" to round out a series.

So to continue onto the idea that it is difficult to grasp oneSELF when one is in such a crowded time of life, I'm now at the point of trying to get my bearings. Slowly, slowly routines are being established, things are being re-organized... (Have I mentioned how the SunnyOaks house was just finally totally and completely upkeepable by me RIGHT before we started getting ready to sell it - one of God's (or Steve's) little ironies in my life as it will be years before we're there here).

Anyway, so now that things are sort of finding their place, and I mean that in all the fascinatingly deep and totally surfacey ways it could be meant, now I'm trying to get my bearings. Right, I know. I said that already. But see theres a lot of that right now. Going in circles.

Before I was so overwhelmed that I may have had time to do the dishes, but I didn't have the mental capacities. Now, I may not always choose the organization route, but at least now I'm starting to notice when I step OVER something instead of grabbing it as I pass and dumping it where it belongs.

Would you believe part of what has thrown me for a tailspin was the fear that Finn was allergic to Cheerios somehow thru my milk? Probably not possible, but I've been avoiding them for a couple months and they were my staple "inexpensive - not horribly fattening - but totally fulfilling" lunch. Food that was once available becoming not available always throws me for loops.

By the way - though everyone is sleeping better - last night was the exception because Abby hurt her wrist (jumping off the bed onto a stack of pillows) and woke up everytime she accidentally bumped it (we think). Jack woke up once and Finn was wanting comfort and distraction from teething. Anyway, I checked the time once while leading Jack back to bed, presuming it was about 5 am and that the night was over.

It was 2am. And was I relieved because there was still so much time for sleep? No. I was appalled. Because I knew the night was NOT going to get better and I just wanted it to be over. I do NOT mean that in any deep philosophical way ;).

Abby woke up with, "That was the worst night of rest ever." Sadly, little does she know - it doesn't hold a candle to some of the nights we've had as parents.

Sucks to be You

I have the cutest videos of Jack to share except I don't have time to look and figure out which one to post.

24601!!!!

Who am I...
Once upon a time I knew every single lyric to any number of musicals... like EVERY lyric and spoken part. I don't think most people know that of me now a days. Six years ago I had a small dinner party in which I realized one of my friends was a huge Michael Crawford fan and for the first time in a long time I got out my prized "Phantom of the Opera" book in which my friend Juliana had had HER friend get an autograph from the original phantom for me back in high school. I was suitably quite the rock star at that dinner.

Anyway, I dunno. I'm not really one for having a big identity crisis. I am very myself and don't usually get too bent out of shape about trying to prove who that is to myself or anyone else.

But right now, with every moment seemingly brimming with depressing thoughts like roof leaks and total sweetness like the way Finn smiles EVERYtime someone looks at him and feats of amazing progress like Jack walking out of his room this morning with his CARS books going straight for a Daddy snuggle (this is what it used to be like) and annoying realizations that I'm not doing the best I could (with weight, with organization etc)... and domestic successes like keeping up with the laundry and dishes and mothering wows like how I need to facilitate Abby's ability to go for her joy in swimming & gymnastics, Jack's musicality and sporty needs it is becoming increasingly difficult to feel like I'm anyone in particular. There are moments of identity - like with photography and art (yes we've already started next year's Christmas book) but in general life is just very crowded.

Because of the helpful family around me I do get bursts of clear and free thought. But those bursts have to clear so much smog in my brain they are short. Appreciated and bright... but short lived.

And... well... thats about as far as I can go at the moment ;).

SopooooooOOO

tired.

Based on Actual Events

First Baby:
8:30pm, Baby crying
Me (crying): She can't possibly be hungry, she's fed every two hours all day!
Steve: Fine, so she's not hungry, she's just going to have to cry!
Me (wailing): But what if I'm wrong? What if she IS hungry? Here is her feeding chart - she fed at 4:07, 5:12, 7:02... it's CLOSE to two hours...
Steve: Then feed her!
Me: WHY can't she wait four hours like other babies?! What if I feed her and she wakes up every hour all night because I fed her.
Steve: is that what happens?
Me: No... but it might. What if she's got some horrible disease and she's trying to let us know but I just keep feeding her to shut her up?
Steve: If you want to wait, then we have to let her cry.
Me: Give me my baby! I'll feed her!!! I'll feed her!!

Second Baby:
8:30pm, Baby wailing like a siren
Me (rolling eyes): Think he's hungry?
Steve (tickling baby even though he's crying): I dunno, is it time for him to be hungry?
Me: I dunno.
Steve: Want me to wrap him?
Me: Maybe. Naw, I'll just feed him.

Third Baby: (last night)
8:30pm Baby making semi-fussy noises
Me: Let's put him on the boob so we can watch "Better off Ted"

Is sleep worth the Dreams?

I've been getting "alot" of sleep recently. Quotes since that means two or three nights a week there is very little activity with the three little "we eat your sleep for breakfast" monsters.

The new thing is that I've gotten in some naps as well.

BUT there is some thing about sleep deprivation (so says the internet - by the way great article on the ER and very true Aaron's twitter account) where because you are so seldom in deep sleep your brain takes you there as soon as it possibly can when you're asleep so you drop straight into dreams and straight out of them.

So I feel bombarded with dreams and ALL of them have something to do with forgetting a child, losing a child, or some variation on that theme.

I literally pinched myself in the middle of a dream last week to prove to my dream self that I must in fact be dreaming - and I'll have you know - that is NOT just a worthless expression. As my dream self I pinched my arm as hard as I possible could three times and it did not hurt at all thus proving to me that I was in a dream. Am I the only one who never took that expression literally before?

Anyway, my dream kept trying to fool me out of it, and its the only time it's come to mind during a dream, but I'm glad it did. I often have moments in the dreams that I doubt their reality. In this one I was on the phone with Jen P, nursing Finn and stopped at an uphill stoplight in Manhattan Beach. Realizing this was a REALLY bad idea I pulled into a driveway right away but as I parked, was so anxious to get Finn into safety (he was suddenly in his car seat) that I left the car in gear when I got out and had to chase it (this was the explorer we had the first year of our marriage). But even then, when the car was safely parked I suddenly didn't have Finn - and had some vague recollection of putting him down on a pillow. And I was so mad at myself, so frustrated, as soon as I thought it could be a dream I was determined to prove it - and since the alternative was that I'd lost Finn, I can tell you when I say I pinched myself, I mean I pinched as HARD as I could. Then, still afraid to be relieved I did it several more times.

So... at the end of the day with all the drama in my dreams, I can almost dread sleep. But... no, having no sleep is worse.

Respecting Where We Are

I think there's a difference between embracing where we're at in life or in a situation vs. respecting that this is where we're at.

I first started thinking about this when families that I photographed so obviously wanted a photo that most definitely did *not* represent where they were at that moment - i.e. if our family picture this year had shown Jack contemplating life. That would not be Jack. Jack is either a lover (this boy cuddles like no one you've ever seen) or a fighter (in good spirits or bad he tackles fun, food, and particularly cars... and trains... and wrestling... well everything).

I started to actually try to sort of... accentuate in a photo how I saw the family. So if a child wouldn't be contained for a tight shot, I have them running around free or sitting a little apart. And I'm really proud when you sort of really really see who my clients are rather than just how pretty they all are.

Then I also started chewing on this idea (mentioned on Dr. Phil though I'm quite sure he's not the originator of the thought ;) ;) ) of being careful of labeling our kids. I.e. words are powerful. And they are. Obviously. Anyway, so I started to worry about how I've been talking about my three. Abby having all this anxiety (well she DOES!!!) and Finn being so sweet (well he IS!!!) and especially Jack being so crazy (well... I'm searching for the right word for him...). He's NOT crazy - he's not frantic (when he's not in a tantrum anyway)... he's just... a wildly free spirit or something. I really have a hard time labeling him and I worry that my inability to label him sympathetically or even slightly correctly will cause him to somehow lose all this wonderfulness that is him. I mean, he will sit and play with cars for LONG periods of time - so its not like he's some sort of no attention span spaz. He sings, oh how he sings. He's a delight, he's joy... He pats the floor or the seat next to him when he wants you to sit down with just the same tone that I do for him. He frowns and pouts so well that it's cute. He LOVES to cuddle, especially when tired, and in those times he'll lean against us and go easily to sleep or just sit there for an hour, just ... sitting. 90% of his nap and sleep time he will just curl up and wait to go to sleep. Where as Abby who is my people pleasing sweetheart fought naps and sleep tooth and nail for years!!

The only parts that make me feel defeated with Jack are the parts that are... impossible. The parts that I don't think are easily solved until he can speak clearer, understand easier, grapple his spurts of emotion... and thats just not going to happen right now... because he's TWO. And the fact that I can't sort of solve everything with a smooth quiet voice makes me feel like I'm failing as a parent and failing him and... and...

And so then I started thinking you know, he's not always going to be two. I can't quite embrace everything that comes with his age right now - but I respect that he needs to go thru it - maybe we all do. He needs to go through this battle of wills and emotion and tortuous ... LIFE so that he can learn how to deal with it all in a generally socially acceptable way and know we all still love and accept him. So I can embrace that I need to respect where we're at... how's that? Close enough?

Similarly with Finn - I don't want my feelings that he is so much easier spirited to lead to him feeling he needs to play the role of a weaker spirit. Because I can already tell that that's not who he is.

And I need to explain that the reason sometimes that Abby's anxiety is so distressing for ME is that she has such a strong core - the anxiety doesn't seem to fit and I don't want it to strangle the iron will that makes me so in awe and proud of her.

Jack is just so... Jack. That's a fair enough label. Maybe that's the answer. Maybe I don't have to box any of them in. I don't INTEND to box them in this way. I don't NEED to classify them. Why does it happen so constantly? Because I'm just talking to other people. Sometimes conversation just leads to talking about the kids and talking about the kids it seems I'm always searching for adjectives. Maybe that's not the way to go about it. Maybe I should tell stories.

Maybe none of this has anything to do with the kids but my anxiety about not being able to communicate what I intend?

But this is where I'm at. Knowing I can't worry like this forever, but really not worrying like this all the time anyway, so not really worried about worry. I don't want to be a perfect parent - I'm not WORRIED that I'm not perfect ... I'm just worried that the mistakes I do make will be horribly detrimental and I want to avoid as many of those mistakes that I can. Don't you see?

Oh heck. I dunno. I just don't want to be the one holding back my kids simply because I wanted to talk about them. Parenthood. Again. Not for wimps.

In Defense of Reality TV

And yes, I realize alot of people think I'm awful cuz my first post of 2010 is about tv ;).

Hoarders inspires me to go clean out any areas of clutter.
The Biggest Loser inspires me to tone rather than just lose the weight I want.
America's Next Top Model inpires my photography and gives me concrete hints to give my subjects.

So...

There.