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.