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Entries in motherhood (13)

Wednesday
Jul202011

She'sWrite: Making the Most of my Mobile Home

Who knew that with motherhood, I’d also be gaining a mobile home? It’s got a dining area, a great place for the kids to play, nap and nurse, and there’s office space for Hubby and me.

Enjoying breakfast in the Jeep. Bacon, blackberries and blueberries. Yum!My mobile home is my SUV. I’ve served breakfast, lunch and dinner in my Jeep Commander, changed the poopiest of diapers, napped alongside my children, blinded high school boys in the Kohl’s parking lot with my boobs while breastfeeding in the backseat.

I’ve edited stories, had conference calls, written blog posts, filled out birthday party invitations. The list (obviously) goes on and on.

My husband marvels at all that’s in the car. I’ve got diapers stashed everywhere, along with juice boxes, bottled waters, changes of clothes, a quart of motor oil,

Goldfish, a stroller, blankets, toy cars, trucks, binkies, “emergency” lollipops. (The “emergency” usually being I need Logan to not speak while I’m in the middle of an important phone call.) The most unique item is a small doohickey (the technical term) that if your car was submerged in water, it effortlessly breaks the glass so that you can escape.

Cleaning my SUV is always an adventure, I try to do it each week so that it doesn’t get out of control. I find preschool art projects, receipts, coupons, forgotten half-eaten snacks and half-drunken water bottles.

 

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Wednesday
Jun082011

She'sWrite: Excuse Me. Why Is Your Child Such a Bully?

I could have asked the soccer mom that. Or I could have asked if she could make her kid stop terrorizing the other children. But instead I took the Mean Girls route: I glared at her.

Sure, he's adorable. But make sure to avoid his white-hot glares.Let me rewind. It’s Saturday morning soccer practice for Logan, and I was flying solo with both boys. It was my first time at soccer since usually Hubby goes. And Hubby had warned me that one of the kids was very disruptive.

It didn’t take me long to spot him. His mom dragged his limp body onto the field. She hissed at him to get up. The kid, I’ll call him Ivan, labored to life and joined the rest of the 3ish year olds.

Enamored by my own child, I didn’t pay much attention to Ivan. Then half way through the class, Ivan started to go rogue. He refused to participate in any of the activities. Meh, he’s 3, no big deal, I thought, obviously my Hubby was exaggerating when he spoke of this kid.

Hubby told me a story of how Ivan was “going crazy” one day and then as Logan was drinking from his water bottle Ivan decided he wanted it. He snatched the bottle from Logan and Logan quickly swiped it back while giving Ivan one of my signature white-hot glares. Ivan looked at Logan and slowly backed away. (I’m secretly proud of this.)

On this Saturday, Ivan had kicked it up a notch, yelling at the coach, who was trying to corral him. I stole a sideways glance at his mom to see her reaction. She slowly turned her back to the field. That’s strange.

Things quickly devolved. Ivan started throwing balls at the other kids. I looked at his mom. She was looking at the ceiling. Seriously? I looked at the other parents. They all looked uncomfortable. It was the elephant in the room.

Logan was staying away from Ivan the Terrible. OK, my kid’s safe, but what about the others? When the coach’s back was turned, Ivan cornered a shrimp of a kid against a wall and pummeled him with balls.

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Wednesday
May042011

She'sWrite: Finding My Way Out of a Funk

For days, I had been in a bit of a funk and what annoyed me is that I really couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I’m sure you’ve been there before too.

Photo by StevenANichols on Flickr.It led me to do some navel gazing. Running down the list of obvious reasons for happiness: My health? Check. Healthy kids? Check. Good husband. Check. Financial Stability? Check. Great Friends? Check.

Not to mention I’m on a glorious maternity leave that feels like a very long vacation. Well then, what the truck is wrong with me?

Who knows. The funk seeped in last Sunday, I thought a good night’s sleep was in order. Come Monday, my attitude still stunk and I felt like Eeyore. I was growing perturbed because before when I’d get in a funk, it was largely work-related stress, that was understandable. This time I had nothing to really pin it on. … Well that was something else. I set out to battle my blues.

I tried to find a drinking buddy for Tuesday night, nothing like a little girly time to bring on the sunshine. Then I decided I was long overdue for crossing items off my Chicago bucket list. I chose to hit up the Garfield Park Conservatory and emailed many of my mommyfriends to see if anyone wanted to come along.

First, my hopes for a date with my gal pal fell through and then the monsoon season struck the Chicago area that night. I considered staying in, but thought no, I need this Me Time. I’ll feel more like Me once I get to spend time with Me.

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Wednesday
Apr132011

She'sWrite: Praying for Sleep Among the Walking Dead

They say your spirituality grows with motherhood. That’s true. I find myself praying a lot more these days, even in public places. The prayer usually starts out like: Dear God, Please let Ethan stay asleep.

Amen.

Maybe the baby should try counting sheep. Photo by amcunningham72 on Flickr.Recently I said this prayer over and over again while toting my little man snuggled in his car seat as we ventured to renew my driver’s license. It had expired the previous week and in all the baby hubbub, I’d forgotten to get it renewed.

I walked into the “driver’s service facility” only about an hour after it opened and it looked like a scene out of "The Walking Dead." It was eerily quiet and some people had that filmy gray coloring that zombies so love to sport along with the vacant look in their eyes. Other people had clothes that were so crumpled, it was clear they’d slept in them. Just how long had these folks been here? It just was 9:30 a.m. on a Tuesday.

The zombie behind the counter assigned me a number and nodded to my still-sleeping Ethan that there was no need to worry, I shouldn’t have to wait long. I wondered if I had a panicked Please-Stay-Asleep look on my face.

Sitting there, rocking the carseat to maintain his unconsciousness, I looked around. One woman had on hooker heels (you know the clear kind) and smeared red lipstick. One dude with matted hair was slouched so low, I couldn’t tell where the chair began and he ended. Don’t these people know they’ll probably have to have their picture taken and it’ll be immortalized in their wallets for at least four years? That’s when it hit me. Crap. I too look like crap!

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Wednesday
Jan262011

She'sWrite: And now for my next trick -- being a SAHM of two

This juggling life thing just took a hard left in our house and we’re finding our sea legs. I’m used to trying to squeeze in friends/sleep/laundry/grocery shopping/doctor appointments/blogging/cleaning around a hectic work schedule and being a mom of one.

Photo by iStockPhoto.But for the next six months, I’m a stay-at-home mom. There’s no more down time during my commute to and from the office so that I can blog, email or catch up with friends IRL. It’s a 24-hour-job and with my newest little guy who has a voracious appetite, I’m up every few hours during that glorious 24.

I’ve got to figure out a new schedule, when should we wake up now that I don’t have to waltz into the office at 7:30 a.m.? Sleeping in late for SAHMs unfortunately isn’t an option. (However, so far I’ve been able to take a nap each afternoon with little Ethan, I’m hoping that trend can continue at least three times a week!)

How often can I reasonably expect Hubby to come home early or at least on time? After spending all day with cute ankle biters, by the time 7 p.m. rolls around I’m looking for a breather.

It’s an adjustment to say the least. It’s not as rough as going from being a non-mom to a mom, but it’s an adjustment nonetheless and I’m trying out different tricks to see how I can get it all done.

Right now things have been pretty good as my mother-in-law stayed for three weeks and this week my parents are here, so the first month we’ve had great help. I’m thinking about when the cavalry leaves.

I’ve been getting both boys dressed and ready for the day to see how I can balance the two in a zone defense sort of arrangement. I’d like to hit up the grocery store solo with the boys to see how that goes. For some reason, planning and going on test drives so to speak makes me feel more in control.

That’s the funny thing about parenting though, I’m no longer in control, it’s more like I’m a suggestion box of sorts.

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