Josie and Owen have fascinating conversations in the back of the min-van. I think, because it's such a big car, they forget them I'm in the front seat chaffeuring them around.
Lately, they've been discussing who they are going to marry. At first, they thought maybe they'd marry each other. "You can't marry your brother, right mom?" Josie said. When I nodded, Owen whispered, "oh no."
Josie thought she might marry her cousin Drew. He's a big strong, handsome guy and 16 years her senior - no suprise that's who she would pick.
"You can't marry your cousin, either, Josie," Owen said with conviction, "Can you mom?" he asked pleadingly.
"No it won't be your brother, your sister or your cousin. But can we just stop talking about this? It won't be for a long time. You probably haven't met your husband or wife yet," I yelled back to the cheap seats.
"Your wife will probably be dumb," Josie said quietly, assuming that I thought the conversation was over and had stopped eavesdropping. But I knew better.
"Josie!" I yelled. She jumped a little in her seat. "You do not want his wife to be dumb. You want her to be awesome because you are going to see her all the time," I said.
"She's going to be horrible to you," Owen said. How is it that he knows just what to say to make my heart jump out of my chest.
"She will not!" I said. "If your wife is horrible to Josie then mommy is going to get mad at her."
"She's probably going to be a witch," Josie said and looked out her window.
"To you," Owen said and looked out his.
The conversation was over. I was exhausted. Convinced I must live forever to keep the peace, I took several deep breaths and tried to center myself before making the left turn into our complex.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
The Vaccuum Method
"Just turn on the vaccuum," my mom said matter of factly.
"And then what," I said hanging on her every word.
"Then vaccuum for tweny minutes and by the time you're done, the baby will be asleep." That was the advice I got from my mom the first time I called her in distress because Josie, 3 weeks old, was fussing in bed, even though she'd been fed, changed and rocked for several minutes.
I wasn't able to turn on the vaccuum. But I did sit there for as long as my heart would allow and let my baby scream. Then, when I just couldn't take it any more, I ran to the room, gave Josie the pacifier and rocked her until she finally napped.
It was one of the first lessons I learned from my mom about motherhood. While I may never have turned on a vaccuum, I learned that sometimes doing whats best for your baby means doing what breaks your heart and makes your skin crawl. Every time I let my child cry or didn't let them take a toy into bed or put them to bed early when they were cranky, I thought to myself, at least I'm not putting on the vaccuum.
Because of my mom's advice, I have a 5 and 4 year old who just gave up their afternoon nap. I was the envy of every mom at the park. "They still nap," moms would say as their jaws dropped to the sandbox floor. Most moms I meet have 2 year olds who "just won't nap any more." Too bad they didn't meet my mom 2 years ago.
I had been toying with the idea of ending Josie and Owen's naps for a few weeks, I'd let Josie and Owen skip nap occasionally here and there. And then, on the days they did nap, I would find them trading books back and forth until 11pm.
I knew it was an end of the an era - no more naps. The end of me time in the middle of the day. But it would mean more time for me and Norm in the evenings, even if we did just on the couch and watch a show together. At least we wouldn't have to take turns getting up and yelling at the kids to "GO TO BED!" There isn't a vaccuum loud enough to drown out Josie screaming for more water at 11:00 pm.
"And then what," I said hanging on her every word.
"Then vaccuum for tweny minutes and by the time you're done, the baby will be asleep." That was the advice I got from my mom the first time I called her in distress because Josie, 3 weeks old, was fussing in bed, even though she'd been fed, changed and rocked for several minutes.
I wasn't able to turn on the vaccuum. But I did sit there for as long as my heart would allow and let my baby scream. Then, when I just couldn't take it any more, I ran to the room, gave Josie the pacifier and rocked her until she finally napped.
It was one of the first lessons I learned from my mom about motherhood. While I may never have turned on a vaccuum, I learned that sometimes doing whats best for your baby means doing what breaks your heart and makes your skin crawl. Every time I let my child cry or didn't let them take a toy into bed or put them to bed early when they were cranky, I thought to myself, at least I'm not putting on the vaccuum.
Because of my mom's advice, I have a 5 and 4 year old who just gave up their afternoon nap. I was the envy of every mom at the park. "They still nap," moms would say as their jaws dropped to the sandbox floor. Most moms I meet have 2 year olds who "just won't nap any more." Too bad they didn't meet my mom 2 years ago.
I had been toying with the idea of ending Josie and Owen's naps for a few weeks, I'd let Josie and Owen skip nap occasionally here and there. And then, on the days they did nap, I would find them trading books back and forth until 11pm.
I knew it was an end of the an era - no more naps. The end of me time in the middle of the day. But it would mean more time for me and Norm in the evenings, even if we did just on the couch and watch a show together. At least we wouldn't have to take turns getting up and yelling at the kids to "GO TO BED!" There isn't a vaccuum loud enough to drown out Josie screaming for more water at 11:00 pm.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Catch Up
It just shows you have far I've come in two years. I went days without writing and the guilt didn't affect me in any way. Thursday I went out with two mom-friends. It was the true test - the first time out together without our children - a test to see if we really do in fact like each other and are not simply Convenient Acquaintances. That was going to be my blog title Thursday night. But I guess we had so much fun I forgot to write when I got home.
Friday was one of those days that was just a blur, probably because I was trying to readjust to the insanity of caring for three children after a night of freedom. Post-Girls-Night-Stressed-Out Disorder. That could easily have been a wonderful title for Friday's recap.
On Saturday, I woke up at 6 am, showered, helped Norm give the kids breakfast, drove to the airport, parked the car, stood in a huge security line for what seemed like hours, got a latte, barely made my flight, went to my parent's, went to my nephews baptism, a party at my parent's, back to the airport, back on a plane, back in the car and back home by 9pm. 10 years ago even just the thought of that day would have exhausted me. 3 kids later, a day like that exhilarated me.
So I'm back on track. A wonderful, quiet day at home with my family. We went to the open house of the catholic school where we might send our kids and realized that each time I go back to the school it feels more and more like where my children belong. Nothing feels better than knowing, even if just for a fleeting moment, that you've found a place where your children can thrive and where you feel like you might belong.
My shining moment of the day was running into a few of the girls from Josie and Owen's Sunday school class. Signing up to teach the class is probably something I regret at least 3 times a week, twice on Sunday morning. When I saw Peyton and Elizabeth walking down the hall, their eyes lit up immediately. They ran to Josie and Owen and then they ran up to me. They were happy to see ME. I felt like a celebrity. I was certain that all those Sunday mornings in a cold classroom trying to explain original sin and epiphany to disinterested 4 year olds was exactly where I belonged.
Friday was one of those days that was just a blur, probably because I was trying to readjust to the insanity of caring for three children after a night of freedom. Post-Girls-Night-Stressed-Out Disorder. That could easily have been a wonderful title for Friday's recap.
On Saturday, I woke up at 6 am, showered, helped Norm give the kids breakfast, drove to the airport, parked the car, stood in a huge security line for what seemed like hours, got a latte, barely made my flight, went to my parent's, went to my nephews baptism, a party at my parent's, back to the airport, back on a plane, back in the car and back home by 9pm. 10 years ago even just the thought of that day would have exhausted me. 3 kids later, a day like that exhilarated me.
So I'm back on track. A wonderful, quiet day at home with my family. We went to the open house of the catholic school where we might send our kids and realized that each time I go back to the school it feels more and more like where my children belong. Nothing feels better than knowing, even if just for a fleeting moment, that you've found a place where your children can thrive and where you feel like you might belong.
My shining moment of the day was running into a few of the girls from Josie and Owen's Sunday school class. Signing up to teach the class is probably something I regret at least 3 times a week, twice on Sunday morning. When I saw Peyton and Elizabeth walking down the hall, their eyes lit up immediately. They ran to Josie and Owen and then they ran up to me. They were happy to see ME. I felt like a celebrity. I was certain that all those Sunday mornings in a cold classroom trying to explain original sin and epiphany to disinterested 4 year olds was exactly where I belonged.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Part Time Joke
I felt like a lady of leisure this week. I've been "interviewing" new babysitters and had each of them come one day this week for a trial.
Yesterday, when I came back from the gym, there was a swarm of Chinese Grandparents hanging in front of my house with the new babysitter. For those unfamiliar with the term, a description can be found on a post from two years ago regarding the phenomenon that is Chinese Grandparents.
Click here for previous post: Chinese Grandparents
Back to yesterday: Josie and Owen and their friends were running around our front lawn in their bright winter coats and hats. I waved hello and the grandparents all bowed their heads slightly to acknowledge my greeting.
One chinese grandfather approached me. "Good for you," he said softly.
"Good for what?" I smiled, wondering if he was checking out the sweat stains on my shirt..
"You got a part-time job. Good for you," he repeated.
"Oh, I didn't get a job. I just went to the gym," I said with an uncomfortable laugh.
He laughed as well, much harder than me, and slowly walked away speaking Chinese to his play group of grandparents. Then they all started to laugh.
I paid the babysitter and corralled my three children inside. For a second I felt guilty. Then I was just mad. I was mad that this grandparent felt the need to judge me. And I was really mad that he thought if I did have a job that I would go to it wearing sweaty gym clothes.
I went to Stanford damnt I thought to myself as I got out the plates for lunch and clocked back in at my full time job of day care provider for three.
Yesterday, when I came back from the gym, there was a swarm of Chinese Grandparents hanging in front of my house with the new babysitter. For those unfamiliar with the term, a description can be found on a post from two years ago regarding the phenomenon that is Chinese Grandparents.
Click here for previous post: Chinese Grandparents
Back to yesterday: Josie and Owen and their friends were running around our front lawn in their bright winter coats and hats. I waved hello and the grandparents all bowed their heads slightly to acknowledge my greeting.
One chinese grandfather approached me. "Good for you," he said softly.
"Good for what?" I smiled, wondering if he was checking out the sweat stains on my shirt..
"You got a part-time job. Good for you," he repeated.
"Oh, I didn't get a job. I just went to the gym," I said with an uncomfortable laugh.
He laughed as well, much harder than me, and slowly walked away speaking Chinese to his play group of grandparents. Then they all started to laugh.
I paid the babysitter and corralled my three children inside. For a second I felt guilty. Then I was just mad. I was mad that this grandparent felt the need to judge me. And I was really mad that he thought if I did have a job that I would go to it wearing sweaty gym clothes.
I went to Stanford damnt I thought to myself as I got out the plates for lunch and clocked back in at my full time job of day care provider for three.
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