Archive for the ‘Being a Mom’ Category

My Songbird

11.24.08

29 July 2006

My office is in the basement and Emily has her tricycle down here, riding in circles and singing. I just decided to type up what she was singing.

Keep in mind, she’s four, and she sings with passion and feeling. Here are the lyrics:

I don’t understand
Why did you let go of my hand?

And my name is Lover,
My name is Lover.

I don’t understand,
I won’t let you down,
I will understand you too.

I won’t get you hurt,
And all that I am saying,
That I do not hurt you today.

Tooooooooooooo-DAY!!

I promise I wont get you hurt,
I promise I won’t let you down
I won’t hurt you anymore
If you again do the same
Won’t you do the same

If we’re the same we’re still friends
A nice family together,
Together my friends.

…she’s going on & on. It’s pretty funny!

The Meaning of Llife

11.24.08

Jul 14 2007

Last night Joe & Emily were taking a bath. Em was washing her “parts” and she looks at me and says:

“That is the meaning of life. Mommies washing pee pees and wee wees.”

LOL – if only it were that simple! Though I’m glad it’s NOT!

Denial No Longer

11.23.08

Feb 14 2006

When I was younger — probably from the time I was about 10 until I was probably 19 — I was an avid horse rider.  I was part of a 4-H club that went on a lot of trail rides.  I showed horses for awhile, then when I was 14 I started to do junior rodeo.  I really sucked at it, but they boys were cute, so what the heck!

I decided not to pursue this sport for several reasons.  One, the cost.  Two, I sucked at it (should be #1).  Three, I’m terrified of going fast.  I know, dumb.  So I haven’t been on a horse in about 10 years.
After having kids not only am I terrified to get on a horse, but I’m scared for my kids to get on one.  It’s just a mom thing I guess. I’m afraid the horse will spook, buck, they’ll get stepped on, they’ll want to go to fast, etc. etc.  So because of these things I’ve never introduced Emily to the equine world that I loved so much.
Well, today we went to a friend’s house to feed the baby sheep.  Emily sees the horses and says, “You have horses! Can I pet one?”  So she pets one.
Then she says, “Can I ride one?”  So Loretta, long-time family friend, says sure.  She gets a halter and a bucket of grain.
I trust Loretta when it comes to horses, I learned much of what I know from her.  I’m okay with what’s going on, but I’m sure Emily is going to chicken out last-minute.
Nope.
Up on the horse she goes.  Loretta asks if she wants to just sit or have the horse move.  I speak for her…she wants to sit. lol  I speak wrong, Emily says “Can we go??”
Fine, horse walks.  Emily is holding on and loving it.  It’s like she’s been doing it her whole life!  A total natural!  Then she asks if maybe she can ride a bigger horse.  I tell her, this is a big horse.  It was probably — I’m guessing — 15 1/2 hands, which means approx 62 inches at the back.  It’s not a small horse.
What was really funny was that she wasn’t even really excited to be up there – it was as if she was supposed to be up there.  She was so comfortable.
So I can no longer deny that my daughter will likely follow somewhat in my footsteps and be a horse-girl.  I’ll likely be terrified regardless what sport she chooses, so I guess it’s good that if she does pick horses as the love of her life, she’ll have a companion in that animal.  I can’t count the times I cried on my horse’s shoulder…literally!

For the Taking

11.23.08

All day today I just felt creepy. I just reeeeeally wanted a shower, but there was never a good time. Kids were wandering, baby was crying, someone was hungry…there were crickets…the dishwasher was running, laundry was going, expecting a phone call.

Lunch time came and went, and I’m still creepified. Phone kept ringing. Baby kept crying.

That was it. I’d had it. Let them cry, let them draw on the walls. The phone…the answering machine does serve a purpose. The crickets can’t live forever. I HAD to shower!

So, I put Joe downstairs on the computer to play Wow Wow Wubbzy games. Emily – plopped in front of the TV watching her “big girl” cartoons…Kappa Mikey or something similar. Elaina – in the crib. She can’t fall out and crying is great for the lungs, right?

In the shower I went. It was WONDERFUL! And as I stood there under the hottest of hot water I thought, “THIS is why they call it ‘taking’ a shower.”

That phrase was obviously thought up by a mother. Because mom never “gets” a shower. No one ever gives her a coupon for an unadulterated shower. It isn’t gifted to her. Nope. The founder of this phrase did just that. She “took” her shower.

At 3:00 pm today I took a stand…and a long, hot, blissful shower. :) And my kids survived it.

The End

Speak Kindly to Your Little Ones

11.23.08

August 9, 2006

The other day Emily did something she does just about every time she sits down to eat. She spilled her juice. I, as always, said “Clean it up!”.

Little Emily was sitting there, her hands in the air as the cold juice soaked into her pants, and she looked at me and said, “That wasn’t the nice way to say it Mommy. You should say it like this, her voice heightened a bit, ‘Emmy, will you please clean that up?’”

We work really hard to teach our kids manners – Joe is still learning and bound to be a challenge, but Emily is an incredibly polite little girl. So you can imagine that I felt like a big jerk after this, but she was right. I didn’t speak nicely the way that I’ve taught her. I corrected myself and said, “Emmy, will you please clean that up?”

Then you know what she did? She commended ME on a job well done. “Good job, Mom, that’s the nice way to say it.”

I think we can all name a time or two when our kids have taught us a lesson, but my specific topic is the way we speak to our children. We cherish them, but does our voice reflect that? We expect them to be polite, but are we polite? It’s so easy to yell, but does the situation really call for yelling? Would Christ raise his voice at us if we made a mistake?

My daughter has been on this earth for less than five years. How long have your children dwelt here? The little ones are still learning the ropes, yet we tend to snap at them at moments when we could be teaching them.

I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s so true and so important. Maya Angelou mentioned once, and not verbatim but this is the idea, that the way you look at a child when they enter the room illustrates to him/her how you feel about them. Do you look at them with an expressionless face, or not at all? Do you look at them with the happiness you felt when they first entered your life?

Make that your goal. When your child enters the room, remember the day they were born, or they day you first held them in your arms. Adults are complicated beings laden with stress on a daily basis. We know we love them, but if we don’t express it with our words and expressions, how do they know we love them? Saying “I love you” is never enough.

Children don’t understand sarcasm, and as much as we (myself included) enjoy it and find great humor in it in certain settings, it truly has no place in a relationship with children. It may satisfy our instant need for a laugh, but it often leaves a sad little soul in it’s wake.

Children misbehave, they sass, they lie…but speak to them as if they are the best version of themselves and you’ll notice that eventually that is what they’ll strive to become. They long to please you and there is no gift that you can give your children that would equal the warm feeling of your kind, loving words of approval.

“I … beseech you … with all lowliness and meekness … to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace and let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers …

“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice:

“And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” (Eph. 4:1–3, 29, 31–32.)

Forbidden Thoughts of a New Mom

11.23.08

April 11, 2006

I have talked to at least 4 other moms who have had this happen, yet all of them thought they were the only one, thought they were going crazy, didn’t want to tell anyone….

When I was a new Mom with Emily I would constantly worry that I would somehow “snap” and hurt her.  Every time I walked past my stair well I thought, “What if I threw her down there?  What if I just lost control and hurt her?”

Of course, I never hurt her.  But why did I have these thoughts?  They seemed out of my control, but I didn’t have any symptoms of “baby blues” so I just did my best to ignore it, I said a lot of prayers asking God to remove those thoughts from my mind.  As if being a new mom isn’t confusing enough…we have to deal with these horrible thoughts?

K, this will seem off topic, but it’s not.  Back in the old days when I was involved in rodeo, I watched a show on TV about how your brain literally cannot tell the difference between mental practice and real practice.

So basically if I closed my eyes and imagined, for example, that I was barrel racing.  If I imagined every turn, the feel of the horse under me, each point in which I would press my foot or lay the reins over, then my mind processed that information as if I was truly practicing, therefore making me better.

So what’s this have to do with sick thoughts?  A lot actually.  When you think these things, it’s your mind’s way of practicing – testing your limits.  In your mind when you imagine these things, your body shudders, you feel sick, and maybe even ashamed and sad.  Your subconscious is reassuring you that you won’t actually do it.

As much as I despise these thoughts, they do have purpose, and they’re NORMAL.  The good news is that everyone I’ve talked to only experienced this with their first child, including me.

**NOTE**
These thoughts can be a sign of postpartum depression, which is also normal, but you should talk to your doctor about them.  A small percentage of women suffer from postpartum psychosis, which can included paranoia and hallucinations, and is very serious and poses a high risk to your and your child.  If you have these symptoms, PLEASE contact your doctor immediately.

The Purpose of My Boobs

11.23.08

March 19, 2006

My son is a mama’s boy, through and through.  I can’t leave the room without him screaming.  People are constantly giving me the “you’ve got to break him of that” look.

How??  How can I make him want me less?  Yes, it’s the lifelong battle I’ve had with the opposite sex.  Okay, I lie….but it was fun to pretend.

Anyway, he’s almost 18 months old and still nurses.  Not just in the morning or at night…and I don’t even want to talk about numbers. Yes, I let him nurse.  I do it for my own sanity. It’s the only way to shut him up. It’s the only way I can have a conversation on the phone.

People say “Let him scream!”  Well, that’s fine for you, but until you’re the one listening to these piercing cries, I don’t want to hear it.  It’s not a pleasant cry, not even irritating.  It’s painful.  It causes me headaches.

Okay, so the point of me writing this. My mom was over a couple days ago and I was complaining about how I would likely never get him to stop nursing.  She said something to the effect of, it’s not hurting anyone and he’s still a baby.  Who cares.

I soooo appreciated her saying that.  I feel constantly judged and sometimes guilty when I nurse him.  That’s so dumb!  I never care what other people think, but for some reason this really gets to me.

God gave me these boobs.  They are filled with milk ALL the time.  This milk is for my baby.  That is the sole purpose of boobs.  Aside from turning a few heads (ha, right!), and occasionally bouncing off of my knees like a bag of beans, they are for my infant (err…toddler).  That’s why we have them.

The other great thing about nursing…I haven’t had a period on over two years.  I love that.

My son adores me.  My daughter, who is very sweet, would always push me away when she was this age.  She was very independant, but it made me a little sad that she didn’t “need” me the way that he does. So now I have my needy, loving little boy.

Joe laid his head on my leg today and didn’t move.  Just stood there with his head on me.  I looked at Luke and he said, “You gotta love that!”  And it’s true, I love how he loves me.  And obviously there’s something within him that needs to be loved and cuddled and reassured.

I don’t nurse him for the nourishment, I do it because of the closeness.  And no, I won’t be nursing him when he’s 5, even though we joke about it! I don’t seek him out to nurse.  When he needs me, I’m there.  He’s got me wrapped around his itty bitty fingers…and someday I’ll miss this. :)