It is officially summer for us. It is time to sleep in (all the way until 6:00.) It is time to find a routine in a non-routine kind of day. It is time to put away the pants and take out the pareos. It is time to make peanut butter sandwiches and prepare to brush the sand off every single bite. It is also time for my family to take our first family vacation.
We have waited almost 5 years. We have been waiting until Mack is ready to travel. Ready to leave the comforts of her routine and try somewhere new. I don't know if she is ready. Or maybe I should say that I don't know if I am ready. I have a short amount of time to get ready and even then I won't be. The anxiety I am assuming she has is actually mine.
In one week I will attempt to pack all of the things that she will need to get through her day. Of course that will include shorts, t-shirts, panties, and such. But...I have to take 8 pair of shorts in case they are itchy. I have to make sure to take her penguin shirt and her pink sparkle shirt because she prefers those. On an off day she may like her yellow truck shirt but it might feel weird so I guess I should pack more. And then when it comes to PJs I'm in trouble. She likes her footie jammies but they are too hot and they make her itchy but she has to start in them and then change so I will pack her "old Mac Donald" PJs. The next day she will like the Hello Kitty onesie (yes she is still in a onesie) with her striped pants but those won't feel good tomorrow. So. I will pack more.
I have to make sure to pack her yellow spoon. The damn yellow spoon that cannot ever be put in the dishwasher. She can't use metal silverware because she bangs it on the table and we can't have that elsewhere. Our furniture is officially ruined but we still use the plastic spoon. Oh, and her race car cup with the "green part" that attaches to cover the spout. But that is just for her morning smoothie. Water will have to be in her Dora cup so I have to remember that.
I have to remember her white noise machine and her nightlight but it has to be the circle light because she doesn't like the rectangle light. And while I am thinking about bed time, she hasn't ever slept with anyone in her room. I have never slept with her. Fiona has never slept with her. I am very curious how sharing a bed or a room is going to go. I am hoping that if she is surrounded by all things familiar, she will be better in an unfamiliar place.
There are many unknowns as we prepare for our journey. I fear the plane ride with her. I fear her behavior at all of our stops. I fear how she will handle transitions and long tiring days. While we are gone she will be seen by a developmental team at an excellent hospital. I have no idea what will come of that visit. I have high hopes. But really...I'm just hoping that I can pack all of the the things I need to keep her from freaking out too much. I hope it all fits in her suitcase. I hope it weighs under 50 pounds at least. I hope there is at least a little room for my clothes. Ha.
I sit here looking at a little blonde girl in mismatched clothes with a blue smudge of marker across her face. I see all the beauty of a little girl in her. Actually I have one of each. I have a warm fuzzy and a cold prickly. But...they are both little girls who will eventually grow into women and one day (gulp) perhaps become mothers. How is it exactly that I was once that little girl and now I am the mother sitting here watching her make a mess?
Those little feet I see peeking up above the table I am writing on will once be the same feet that will pace the hallway of the house she can barely afford while she soothes her little one who is up for the 5th time with a fever. Those same feet will step on stray legos in the same hallway. Those feet will have toenails painted different colors by the tiny little artist who paints mine now. She will will learn how to use her feet like hands. She will be able to hold a baby and pick up a blankie without bending over. Feet become very important to a mother.
The little legs which now have mosquito bites and kid bruises will be the same legs that will carry her at breakneck speed to the edge of the pool before her little one decides to walk off into the deep end. The legs that will have veins that appeared during pregnancy and won't go away. The legs that will not be shaven for weeks once a baby monopolizes her time. She will use those legs to sway and bounce for hours trying to get her baby to sleep. Her kids will grow and she'll find that she still swings and sways while she stands in line at the bank. A mother can never change back. You are programed to soothe.
Her adorable little baby belly that pokes out from her size 2T shirts will one day stretch to a size that a human cannot fathom that a stomach can grow to. She has no idea that one day her cute little belly button will grow outward to a flattie or even more of an outie than she has now. That little tummy she is stuffing crackers into as I type will one day be the home to my grandchild. I shudder at the thought...but still see the magic that may await in that same belly.
Her tiny little breasts will sustain life. I will always be in awe of the ability for a mother to be the sole source of food for a growing baby. Once she begins breast feeding her baby, she will never remember the breasts she used to have. I haven't breastfed a child for 4 years and I still get the "let down" feeling every so often. I love that it still happens. It is like a tiny little reminder of the gift I gave my children.
Her hairy little arms she uses to prop herself up on in front of the TV will one day become a nest for her baby. She will use her arms to support her tired little soldier and to pin him/her down while she tries to brush teeth. She will use her arms as a seat belt when they stop fast in the car. Her arms will have bruises and scratches when her baby decides to grow horns. Her arms will open instinctively when she hears, "Mommy hold you."
She has the tiniest little hands and the dirtiest finger nails now. And...what she doesn't know is that one day she is going to sit on the couch and realize that the "stuff" she cleaned out from her nails is baby poop. She is going to have to get used to having hands that are so chapped because she washes them 800 times a day. Her nails will be ragged and unpainted. She will have the ability to untie any knot, open any zipper, sew on buttons, reattach bunny ears on stuffed bunnies, peel gum from hair, find earrings in the carpet, dig through the trash for retainers, and stroke soft hair just right. Her hands will be able to point in such a way that no words need to be spoken and things will get done.
That blue smudge I mentioned before will become yesterday's mascara, or this morning's sweet potatoes, or spit up, or if she has a boy...well, I'll make sure she learns to cover up for diaper changes. She will get used to seeing herself without make up on. She will have puffy eyes and dark circles and people in public will comment on how much she needs a nap. She will also smile in a way she never has before. She will learn to smile from her soul because once you hold a miracle in your arms, there is no other way to smile.
She cries now when she can't watch TV. She cries when her sister won't share. She cries for the silliest little things. One day she is going to cry when she sees her baby for the first time. She is going to cry for no apparent reason. She is going to cry when she watches TV. She is going to cry during fabric softener commercials. She is going to cry when her baby does his/her first everything. She is going to cry when you decorate the tree on Christmas. She is going to cry because she hasn't slept in three days and her legs are so hairy she can braid them. She is going to cry because she is wearing her maternity pants and the baby is 5 months old. She is going to become emotional in a way that only a mother could. We cry because we see the beauty that sometimes maybe only a mother can see. I don't mind. It's a small price to pay for this type of enlightenment.
Everything about me has changed since I have had children. I will spare my readers some of the details. I find it really frustrating sometimes to be an emotional mess. I have a hard time with some of the changes my body has made that I cannot fix. But really...I find it amazing that I can enter a room and small children run to me and climb up into my arms. They call for me when they are scared. I can fix anything just by carrying the title, "Mom". I feel truly blessed to have been born with a uterus. I love that the two most important people in my life will also get this privilege.
Tomorrow is Mother's Day. Use it to thank your mother for going through all of the changes she has to bring you into this world. Remind yourself that your mom used to be a normal person who remembered things and didn't cry for no reason. I know that I am thankful for my mother every day. She knows why, or at least I hope she does.
I am lucky to live in a place where seasons don't change all that much. We have cool mornings in winter and more rain. We have rain in spring and hot muggy days. Summer can be downright unbearable but also so nice because we are free to cool off in the ocean. Fall is hot. And then one day it isn't and then all of the sudden you wake up and it is Christmas and you see kids wearing jackets on our brisk 65 degree mornings. We have our own kind of seasons. But. We all share something in common. The seasons of parenthood.
Summer is not just Summer. Summer now is popsicle season. Taking a bath every 3 days season. Lunch outside on the picnic table and a rinse in the kiddie pool on the lawn season. Swimming lesson season. Soccer camp season. Sun comes up way too early season. Small laundry loads full of swim suits season. Sunblock on the shopping list season. Take a vacation if you're lucky season. Summer has become back to school shopping season for those of us lucky enough to start at the end of July. BBQ season. Playing outside until it gets dark season. Washing the dog in the pool season...
Fall is not just Fall. Fall is finding your groove in school season. Soccer season. Seeing pictures of your families' falling leaves season. Buying a new jacket season. Sun going down way too early season. Collecting canned food for the hungry season. Choosing a Halloween costume season. Taking down the holiday boxes from the attic season. Choosing a pumpkin season. Charlie Brown movies season. Watching Monday Night Football season...
Winter is not just Winter. Winter is cutting snowflakes season. Choosing the right picture to send to Shutterfly for Christmas cards season. Hot chocolate with mini marshmallows season. Cookie season. Donating to the Salvation Army bell ringers season. Home Alone on TV season. Warm family feeling season. Making resolutions season. Somebody in the house is always sick season...
Spring is not just Spring. Spring is watching the bulbs come up season. Playing outside in the rain season. Waiting for the Easter Bunny season. Sun staying up longer season. Eating dinner outside season. Termite season. Baseball season. Car wash fundraiser season. Spelling bee season. Clean out your closet season...
Even though I don't have boots and sweater season here, I do share many of the same seasons you do as a parent. I love the seasons. I look forward to the changing of the seasons for different reasons now. I watch my family change as the season changes and though you may be lucky to see fireflies in the summer...I am lucky to see my own kind of magic over here.
I remember elementary school so well. I remember spinning on the playground with my friends making my skirt twirl around. I remember the magazine I created with cut-out pictures of Ricky Schroeder that I tried to get my friends to subscribe to. What I find fascinating is that all of that seems like it wasn't that long ago but really...I have gray hair now. Not a lot. Just a taste of it to remind me that I now parent an elementary school child and those days are long gone. My medicine cabinet is proof.
The other day I was cleaning my girls' sink in the bathroom and their medicine cabinet was open. I stood there for a few minutes enjoying the simple contents of it. I saw tiny bottles of nail polish, hair detangler, princess toothpaste, a green comb, various hair accessories, and cupcake bandages. It was such a sweet collection of little girl things. It made me think about how one's medicine cabinet changes through the years.
In a few years their cabinet won't contain things like princess toothpaste and detangler. I will soon find hair gel and eye liner. Tiny bottles of Hello Kitty nail polish will be replaced with 10 bottles of Wet N Wild nail polish. By then I won't even be allowed in their bathroom and won't be allowed to know what else they keep in there.
In college the medicine cabinet holds things like birth control pills, condoms, Vicodin you "borrowed" from your friend who had a root canal, Nyquil, No-Doz, sun block, aspirin, tweezers because you finally decided to pluck your eye-brows, and leg wax because you're on the prowl.
Then you meet "him". Your medicine cabinets collide. Your tampons are mixed with his aftershave. You try to share toothpaste but his is awful so you now have two tubes. You have four sticks of deodorant. One is his and the other three are yours because the first one smelled too powdery and the next two were buy one get one free. Your make-up bag has gotten bigger by now too because you now have a "real" job so you buy fancy Lancome make-up which has the added bonus of the free gift (with a $75 purchase of course).
You have a baby. The mess above now has a rectal thermometer, Vaseline, Anbesol, two bottles of Prenatal vitamins (one made you puke so you bought the other), Children's Tylenol and Motrin, and several salves for sore breasts and bottoms. You find that every time you open it, something falls out which makes you feel inadequate as a homemaker so you find time one day to throw out anything with an expiration date in the last 4 years.
Babies grow and life gets more hectic. You find that you've added another bottle of aspirin, two bottles of medication for your back pain, and you hate to admit it...but you snuck out and bought an electric nose-hair trimmer. You have eye drops for pink-eye that your kids give you at least two times a year. You have prescriptions for heart burn medication. Two kinds. You feel a little bit old so you go out and buy light blue nail polish for your toes because you're still cool. You have three of those little baggies you get when you buy a new sweater. You know...the ones with the extra button and the piece of thread? You have no idea where to put them so they pile up on the top shelf behind your earrings. And so it goes...
My medicine cabinet will continue to evolve as I do. I'm sure I will see a variety of items appear and it seems that as we age, the contents of the cabinet seem to get a little more embarrassing. Thank goodness we married someone who will share the shelf with the embarrassing things we need to support our aging selves. It's OK though...because the nose-hair trimmer is not yours anyway...right?
I have done it. I was able to hop on a plane and leave my family for a few days. Six to be exact. I'm thousands of miles away from them and though I am so happy I took time to replenish my soul, I miss them terribly. Funny how distance does that.
While I have been gone, I have been able to go up on the balcony and look down at my life. I've spent time with other moms talking about our kids. I've stayed in bed for an hour after waking (unheard of in my "real" life) just chatting with a good friend about how much we love our families and how at the same time they are killing us slowly. I have had time to reflect on who I am as a mother and who I am as a woman simply because...I've had the time to do it.
I am re energized and ready to jump back in and continue on our path. I'm ready to tweak a few things that I see need to change. I am able to realize that because I took time to get away. I have been reading smutty romance books which in turn have made me excited to return to my other half and pick up where we left off...refreshed and rejuvenated...fully aware that I will be handed both kids as he runs far away.
I recommend that you take time to step away from your life as well. A few days away with some amazing friends has been what I have needed. I have been "me" for a few days. Now I look forward to being called Mommy again.
This is a computer shop I drove by yesterday. It was ironically the first day after having begun Mackenzie's second medicine trial. It was a sign. Literally and figuratively.
We have been watching her spiral out of control for a long time. We tried Ritalin and it wasn't a good fit. So we continued with behavior modification and it was helping a little bit but really, we have just been living in hell. I hate to even "say" that outloud. She has a few minutes of calm at home but most often is out of control of herself and her emotions. And still...she is bottling it all up when she is outside of the home. We are happy she is functioning in the world, but have been losing our grip on her at home. So, we got help.
She was tested last week to see if she was on the spectrum and the doctor doesn't think she is...because her oddities do not happen across settings. I think we are on the road to begin talking about a possible Oppositional Defiant Disorder diagnosis. Mix that with her sensory needs and you have officially given birth to a completely adorable, blonde, time-bomb. Tick Tick Tick. Tick.
We started her on new med which is a depressant. We were told to watch for her to become extremely tired and to just want to sleep all day. I was worried and uncomfortable. But, we had to do something. We had to. For her. For our family. So, on Friday after school she had her first dose. After it kicked in, we saw changes in her the first night. (Full effect doesn't happen for 2 weeks.) She was making transitions easier, ate a calm dinner, played in her sister's room nicely, and got ready for bed without incident. This is not typical in our home. Normally it is like we have twin 2 year-olds running around. So, whew maybe we did the right thing.
The next morning was business as usual for us. She was back to herself and was difficult. It took me 2 hours to get them ready to go to Costco and I was wondering whether we'd be able to do it once we were there. We managed. And after nap she had her meds again...
I've written before about how HARD it is to decide to medicate your child. Brian and I honestly tried to manage her behavior with behavior modification and lots of opportunities to burn energy. We try to be consistent and stay on the plan. We work hard to be 10 steps ahead of her at all times. I know how to talk around what I want making it sound like her idea. None of it has helped.
I'm hopeful for her future. I love the tiny moments of "normal" I have seen in the last 2 days. Things that many parents would see on any given day. We are seeing for the first time. It gives me hope for what our family can do. Restaurants. Libraries. Movies. Airplanes.
For all you families who have children who struggle...We are right there next to you. Life goes on while you manage the needs of your child. It is utterly exhausting. Keep pushing forward. You'll get there. So will we.
We are taught at a young age that it is OK to be different yet we strive to be alike. Not in every way of course. But who doesn't sit at friend's dinner party looking around and wishing your house was as cute. Or your view was as nice. Or your waist was as small. Or your boobs were as big. Or your whatever was as whatever. We teach our children to be happy with themselves, yet many times we are not happy with who we are as adults. I think most times I'm pretty happy with who I am, but my mind tends to wander when I am feeling less than satisfied with the status quo.
When I think of my children, I think of how different they are and how much I love them for their uniqueness. I see my beautiful children and love them so very much and so very differently. Of course the love isn't different, it just blankets them in different ways. I have one little girl who loves to be held and touched and have her back scratched endlessly. She wants kisses and needs to touch me if she is near me. I love that. I have another little girl who races past me and leaves me in a cloud which sprinkles me with her kind of love. She doesn't want me to hold her much. She doesn't want her back scratched or to touch me without it being her idea. I know this child loves me with all her heart but shows it is a more distant way. Yet, I feel the same attachment to both. I love that a heart is able to tell what kind of love to give and how to receive what comes back.
I am learning how to live life in a snowflake kind of way. A way that is beautiful like every other life. It is unique and different than others. But it is a beautiful life. It is full of stress sometimes. It is full of uncontrollable energy. But in the end it is full of my snowflakes. They sprinkle themselves around me and fill our house with their own special beauty. Unique. Different.
And yes. When I come to your house for dinner, I will wish I had your vaulted ceiling.
