You can tell that the holidays have hit. Neglectful to my baby blog.
So here's some updates on my life.
Being 40 sucks in that the evolution of my body since hitting that age seems to be nothing short of a downward spiral. And when I say downward spiral I'm referring mostly to my boobs. Luckily one doesnt lose their winning personality so quickly so I live on able to joke about my impending disfigurement. I'm pretty sure if I were king of the world tummy tucks and boob jobs would be included on every insurance plan after 40....for the preservation of mental health. I'm sure there's a precedent to be made there...somehow.
What fun was that? Seriously, the best Christmas we've had here in Thurman Manor. Since we are coming put of the baby stage, I can truly confess that many times lately I've thought..twins are great. They always keep each other occupied which is NICE. They learn sharing naturally..or I learn the art of dispersing disputes. We've recently had to eliminate all wooden puzzles from our lives for fear of toddler concussions.
My dear little William. He has a temper. My naturally snuggly and loving child can flip on a dime to be the demon possessed tiny Godzilla wreaking havoc on all toys and siblings and plates of food in his way. Maybe its the hair...he has a ton of hair..maybe that's what makes him so "passionate" about things. That and the fact he is his sister's literal twin. Those two coined being moody. Addison is 8 and on more than one occasion I've found her crying in her room, multiples times in one day, for no reason at all. You are 8! This crap shouldn't start until puberty! She's a drama queen too. Ugh..the teen years we shall have.
At least she's not in the "no" stage. That is William's answer for everything. everything. Everything.
Good thing hes so cute.
Now I don't have a favorite kid. I don't. I love them all so much it hurts. But if you as a parent say that you don't like or prefer one kid over another at some time, you're a liar.
Presently Alex is my little angel. He is the least selfish of the bunch. He is kind and shares often. He is the premiere talker..or mocker these days and even though neither of my boys have found it useful to actually speak English yet, he at least tries. In fact, I was recently in the bathroom and I hear what sounds like "mommyyyyyy, where are you?" If was more like "mommmyyyy ere ah oooo?" But I got it. I felt like I cracked the Davinci code or something...I understood what he was saying!!
So happy that we are finally getting there. We are behind all the singletons in our class in the verbal skills...but I Think that's normal for twins.
Alex is a doer...he's a Republican. If he wants something he will find a way to climb and get it and bring it to you. Sometimes that part is very impressive. Sometimes..its scary.
My other two are clearly democrats who will stand in the middle of the room whining until something is done for them. I know, I know...stepping on some toes with those analogies but I see what i see.
That pioneer spirit...that's my favorite thing about Alex currently. And he's got an amazing smile.
Christmas, like i said, was amazing. This was Addison's biggest belief year yet. Magic happened at our house and it was so cool to watch her see it. Kids make Christmas. Period.
Monday, January 23, 2017
You can tell that the holidays have hit. Neglectful to my baby blog.
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Saturday, October 1, 2016
There's this girl named Mandy. She's pretty special. She is the first close girlfriend I've had in a very very long time. She's the kind of friend where there are no holds barred. I don't have to hold back or act good. I don't have to pretend to like something just to have common ground. We can talk for an hour every night of the week and she'll have me laughing histerically in a matter of minutes. She's 10 years my junior and I've even been called her mother before by strangers...but we connect in a way I didn't think was possible anymore. She was there the day my boys came into this world...recording the whole thing. And she puts up with my crazy family just to come and visit. She even does laundry. There is no better friend than one that will wash your dirty underwear.
I really hope that there isn't cell phone video that will one day loop through the Internet of me trying to get my boys out of mother's day out. People whip out their phones to record all matter of things these days. It is truly my fear that I'm going to scroll through Facebook one day to find a video of "that horrid mother" referring to me.
Being a twin has its advantages. You can get away with so much more because there is always the other guy to take mom's attention while you run. On any given day at MDO you will find me "trying" to get my boys the short distance from the classroom to the car. It may as well be the miracle mile. Alex is out the gate first..always. He is the fastest and he could care less if mom follows. As I'm trying to coax William out the door through literally 20 cute little goodbyes to his teachers (he loves to make an exit) Alex has already rounded the corner and shot down the hall. Now, more than once I've caught some mom's face with the question....who's kid is this just running free? Yeah...I saw the look lady..and I'm coming just as fast as I can. I have William in hand but Alex has sprinted down the hall to THE RAMP. I have always felt like this was just poor design to have a handicapped ramp inside the children's wing. There has not been a day that has gone by that my boys have not jockeyed for first position on the ramp so they could run as fast as they can down it and eventually down the entire length of the hall. It doesn't matter if there are other kids or adults traversing said ramp..nope..my guys will bowl you over in a new York minute.
Seeing his brother is going to win first spot on the ramp, William promptly sits down. This is a toddlers defense mechanism. They will wear you down with this move. With bookbags in hand and cups and artwork, I have to let go of my little dear to try and rearrange so I can urge him further down the hall. This is all a ploy. Because the second me drops and I let go, a spring is activated in his little butt that propels him up and down the hall towards the ramp. Trying to be the good mommy and not make a scene I smile at all the well behaved little darlings passing by as I secretly grit my teeth at mine who are now both atop the ramp, watching and smiling at me. Time I get within an arms length of my devious duo they take off down that ramp. There's a rail..they know if they hug the wall I cannot reach them. Now reaching lightening toddler speeds, the ramp propels them back down the hall in the direction that we have already travelled. I stand there...calling sweetly as they laugh and run..back to their classroom. You have to just wait a moment because some rare times they will peak back around the corner and come running back to me..but that is unlikely. Most likely I will have to walk the miracle mile again only to find them in the director's office flirting. It was the only open door. Here again I try and coax my darlings from the office all the while enduring 20 more little cute goodbyes from William to the director. Here is where the lollipop comes in. For whatever reason, they give them a lollipop as a treat at school. I personally don't think my kids need a treat everyday but hey..it's her teaching method, and a nice gesture. It does provide me with the bribe. I literally hold the lollipops out and coax my wild ones down the hall towards the door. It is the only deterrent that will supersede the fun of the ramp. With that bait we make it to door number one. Unfortunately door number one leads to the Chamber of Echos. This foyer between the miracle mile and the outside is every vocal kid's dream. I myself would live to hold a concert in there because the acoustics are amazing so I can't really blame the tots for wanting to hear themselves resounding through the walls.
However, I am on it. I now unwrap the lollipops. Oh the tots cannot resist open candy staring at them. Now it's like a scene from the Walking Dead where all these little arms are groping, reaching for the candy. Alex is the most dexterous. The lollipop is snatched and in his mouth. I almost got them out door number 2 with that one. Door number two may as well be made of lead. It's literally a turn of the century historic old door that was obviously made to stave off intruders during some sort of war. I now have both boys by the hand but jelly legs have set in. My next move is the part where I hope there are never any cameras around. If there were, they would catch me dragging my children like limp dolls through the big door and down the steps. It looks horrible I know. I'm pretty shocked that we haven't had an arm come out of socket at this point. But I am 100% sure that this is the most horrible picture of parenting that can possibly be taken at this point. You see I have to do this because if I let go, even for one second, the little buggers will shoot back to that cursed ramp and we will start all over again.
Finally, we are out of the building. This is where it's my turn to say "bye." You know what I mean. The "let's pretend I'm going to leave you so you'll follow" routine. We are almost home free..I can see the car. Most of the time it works but again...Alex is in the lead and William lags behind to smile at all the people exiting the building. That's ok at this point because if I have parked close enough, I can throw one in the van and shut the door before the other gets to the sidewalk.
Now, if I don't have the fortune of parking close, we are really in the big leagues because there is actual traffic and two little devious boys on a wide open sidewalk.
Fear gives you extreme mommy muscles. It is with this fear of my angels getting hit by a car that I am able to grab one in each arm and tote them to the van. Mind you..it's not a pretty tote. I may have one on my hip and one in a barrell hold around his waist. My favorite is the "you're slipping but I'm not letting go therefore giving you an epic diaper wedgie" hold. We just..have..to make it..to the van.
The street is dangerous. That means everyone gets in the van first before the buckling begins. This also means kid #1 will immediately get in and run to the back of the van. He thinks this is funny because I can't reach him. After kid #2 is secured, it's a crap shoot as to whether the one in the back will come when I call. I have no more lollipops...I can only count. When I count to three and no one moves, then it's time for "pop pops". Here again I'm hoping that he takes my bluff because I do not feel like crawling in after him. So I count. One....Two..."FREE " he chants with me with a big grin on his face. Sigh. Now I have to put some action into it. One step up into the van usually does it. He takes me seriously enough to submit and come to me.
At last, I have secured my little wild packages...one more time...out of the five I will endure just this week.
Car line cannot come fast enough.
Monday, July 25, 2016
How do you come out on the other side...how do you survive?
I have another friend who tells me, "At least it's not cancer." He's trying to help me put things in perspective. Yes, but what if it is? How do you make it?
Human beings are resilient. Most of the time. Some fail and cower and escape through drugs or alcohol or suicide. Some don't make it.
Work, of late, has been tremendously stressful or me, on my husband, on my family. Since I work with my husband, it doesn't make for a happy home life even after 5 p.m. I drown on a daily basis. I tread and tread water until 5....just enough to breathe. That's what it feels like. I'm scared my husband may have a heart attack from stress and that burdens me even more. I worry that my children are not doted on enough. I don't read enough books or spend enough time playing. They may possibly grow up to be idiots because they just turned two and I haven't started potty training them. I struggle with feeling indefinitely behind. To never catch up and sigh.
I went to the pool Friday night, alone. I haven't been able to swim all summer because if I go to the pool I am too busy trying to keep my twin toddlers from drowning to get in the water and enjoy it myself. But Friday, I went and I swam. I had almost forgotten how. The buoyancy of my 40 year old body is substantially more than any previous age. Fat apparently floats pretty well as I found out on my attempts to touch the pool floor. Great, now I'm too fat to even swim right.
That only left one thing. To float.
So I floated on my back with only 2 inches of my face/nose above the water. I was submerged in the watery sounds. The occasional splash of a kid nearby is all I heard. I felt like I had entered another world and it was so peaceful. It felt like I stayed there for and hour. I didn't care how I looked in my swimsuit or if anyone was looking at me wondering if I were playing dead to test the lifeguards. I didn't care about anything in that watery solace. However, one eventually starts turning pruney after being in the water so long and I had to leave my liquid quiet.
I retreated the rest of the weekend as well. After my swim, I took myself out on a date to a restaurant downtown. Just me. Because I am drowning in my real life.
My marriage is rocky at best. My job is never-ending and unrewarding on a daily basis. I am trapped in this life I've constructed or at least let be constructed around me and I can feel the air being pulled out of my body every day.
It's not cancer. I know. I have a lot of positives..a whole lot. I know....I KNOW. I have all the reasons in the world to look at things and be happy. But I'm not.
Is it the age? Is it the fact that I realize I have more years behind me that I probably have in front of me? In the least, my life is half over.
Is it the ideal? So many pictures of ways I would like to spend my life, things I wish I had time in the day to do. There's just no way to fit them in right now.
I am scared that I keep hoping and planning on one day loving my life and it never getting here. One day may never come and this is all I will have to show for myself.
I started working out. Even hired a personal trainer. He's sweet to me: calls me beautiful when I enter or leave the gym. He's handsome. He's also so young. 25. I am a forty year old mom with a horrible body... and I have an admitted crush on my oh-so-young trainer. Not that I would ever do anything, but God I hate looking at me in spandex. I feel for him having to. All this exercise, more than I've ever done in all my years combined, has given me no results at all. The scale doesn't move. My pants don't fit better. My body parts ache the worst I've ever felt...for nothing. It's very disconcerting. But, you know why I go? Because of my little trainer. I am so sad that I need to pay to see someone just so he can tell me I'm pretty, even though I know he's lying through his teeth.
But, It's not cancer.
There's so much I have that is good. I know there is.
I just can't see it in the waters..the dark murky water that swallows me daily. I am so tired of treading this water. And putting it in print makes it even more oppressive.
You want to know what I don't usually blog about? This. The reality of life. But I'm going to start because if I don't, there may not be a me to resuscitate.