Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Halloween 2014
Here we are..Cruella and the dog catcher and the puppies. We won the family costume contest at the ACC.
The evolution of a baby
Hug your nearest stay-at-home mom
One thing I didn't count on as I emerged into the world of staying at home with my kids, is the level of loneliness it produces. I don't remember feeling this way with Addison, but maybe its because there was only one of her. Some days just keep going...and run together as day turns to night and night turns to day and every few hours I am up. My mornings are not beginnings to anything, they are a recovery period from the night before causing my shower time to be around noon and any activities outside of the house, thereafter. I wish I could say I got to catch up on my shows at least, but the TV never comes on. So, I find myself in this solitary world. Me, these little ones, my daughter and her endless chatter in a routine of sorts that just keeps going...and going. It is a lonely place.
If, per chance, I get a sitter or relief for a while, I am faced with a choice, do I get some much needed sleep? My brain is a chasm of forgetfulness these days. On the one hand I need the sleep desperately for simple functioning purposes. However, there is this need for some connection with people. A chance to get out of my confinement and socialize or do something fun. Always a choice. A hard choice. An impossible choice that no matter how I try and fit it all in, something suffers or the guilt of me not being at home overcomes my relief.
This morning during the 4:30 a.m feeding I am lost in this disdainful lullaby that is playing. It plays constantly while the boys sleep...on repeat...kinda like my life right now. It feels like the background music for this very boring version of Groundhog Day. A day that never ends.
We have reached 3 months now. For 14 weeks I have been doing this and with every week I am celebrating not the fact that my children are reaching milestones, but that this first year is shortening and I have less than 9 months to go before its over. I feel guilty for that. I feel like I'm squandering my supposed joy.
There are moments of joy and wonderment, but the rewards from the boys are few and far between at this stage. I call it the lump stage. At least they are smiling now...the both of them. That gives some measure of pay to my thankless job.
That sounded terrible. I wish it weren't true.
To add icing to this cake, my body is trying to find its equilibrium again. My metabolism has slowed to a crawl. I fear the scales because each time I step on them they seem to go up. I am also losing all that beautiful baby hair I grew in the last 9 months. No amount of vitamins is keeping it on my head. It falls out in handfuls at each shower and I end up finding strands in the most precarious places like my children's diapers. I call it "The great shed." My body hurts from my back to my feet. I wonder if it's from bad nutrition, lack of sleep or just the exiting of those baby hormones. I feel like a 70 year-old getting out of bed.
On top of all this, I am expected to be a pleasant person. I would feel sorry for my husband having to deal with me if I weren't dealing with everything else in flux with a side of loneliness. And so the one person who could be my helper is often slated as my enemy...and the cycle continues. Because who wants to be around a grouchy, balding, pudgy gal who can't remember your name? Yeah. I wouldn't either.
So, just know that new mom with her beautiful baby is hiding a world of hurt behind that smile. And if she is blessed with more than one child at a time, help her...visit her...sit and talk and rock a baby...give her time to breathe...to be a person and do it consistently. She is dying inside, but can't tell anyone for fear she will be judged.
If, per chance, I get a sitter or relief for a while, I am faced with a choice, do I get some much needed sleep? My brain is a chasm of forgetfulness these days. On the one hand I need the sleep desperately for simple functioning purposes. However, there is this need for some connection with people. A chance to get out of my confinement and socialize or do something fun. Always a choice. A hard choice. An impossible choice that no matter how I try and fit it all in, something suffers or the guilt of me not being at home overcomes my relief.
This morning during the 4:30 a.m feeding I am lost in this disdainful lullaby that is playing. It plays constantly while the boys sleep...on repeat...kinda like my life right now. It feels like the background music for this very boring version of Groundhog Day. A day that never ends.
We have reached 3 months now. For 14 weeks I have been doing this and with every week I am celebrating not the fact that my children are reaching milestones, but that this first year is shortening and I have less than 9 months to go before its over. I feel guilty for that. I feel like I'm squandering my supposed joy.
There are moments of joy and wonderment, but the rewards from the boys are few and far between at this stage. I call it the lump stage. At least they are smiling now...the both of them. That gives some measure of pay to my thankless job.
That sounded terrible. I wish it weren't true.
To add icing to this cake, my body is trying to find its equilibrium again. My metabolism has slowed to a crawl. I fear the scales because each time I step on them they seem to go up. I am also losing all that beautiful baby hair I grew in the last 9 months. No amount of vitamins is keeping it on my head. It falls out in handfuls at each shower and I end up finding strands in the most precarious places like my children's diapers. I call it "The great shed." My body hurts from my back to my feet. I wonder if it's from bad nutrition, lack of sleep or just the exiting of those baby hormones. I feel like a 70 year-old getting out of bed.
On top of all this, I am expected to be a pleasant person. I would feel sorry for my husband having to deal with me if I weren't dealing with everything else in flux with a side of loneliness. And so the one person who could be my helper is often slated as my enemy...and the cycle continues. Because who wants to be around a grouchy, balding, pudgy gal who can't remember your name? Yeah. I wouldn't either.
So, just know that new mom with her beautiful baby is hiding a world of hurt behind that smile. And if she is blessed with more than one child at a time, help her...visit her...sit and talk and rock a baby...give her time to breathe...to be a person and do it consistently. She is dying inside, but can't tell anyone for fear she will be judged.
Friday, October 24, 2014
The Princess is 6
I've avoided this place for 6 years but who can resist the birthday request of our only princess? So, we partied down with Chucky Cheese and two of Addison' best friends. She really doing amazing in school and so excited to learn. I wish that enthusiasm would last. I know she'll be reading simple sentences by Christmas. As far as big Sisters go, she is the best. I haven't seen many sisters love their tiny siblings quite as much or want to be around them as much as she does. She actually gets upset with me if I pick her up from school without them. Her adjustment however to real school and a complete life change has proved to be a bit of a struggle both emotionally and physically. At 5 we were all of a sudden having accidents at school. My little helper can also have a dark side and pitch many a tantrum. Hopefully all the wrinkles of our new and improved life will iron out soon. She still is, however, and always will be.... My #1 baby.
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