Rx: Parenthood

Well, I'm just getting over a brutal cold. I've successfully made it through the "throat-on-fire" stage, coasted past the "did-I-just-sneeze-out-my-brain?" phase, and am nearing final departure of the "just-stop-coughing-just-make-yourself-stop-coughing-enough-already" grand finale. Aren't colds just the loveliest? Ahem.

I hate being sick. I mean, it is silly to even mention because frankly, I don't know anyone who enjoys being sick...but, seriously, isn't it just the worst?

Actually, I do sort of remember liking sick days. Remember when you would wake up a bit feverish and your mom would come in your room to check in on why you haven't come down for breakfast only to find you still in your pajamas...and you were cringing and rejoicing on the inside all at the same time because you knew no matter how awful you felt that it still meant you could skip school so you didn't have to endure Mrs. Alber's PE class of "Sweatin it to the Oldies with Richard Simmons" for the fourth time that week???? (C'mon, don't you remember that? No? Just me? Hmm. Okay then.)

But, you know the feeling. Sometimes there are things worse than being sick. Sometimes we'll take a raw sore throat over that book report we've been dreading, or that big meeting at work, or that lunch date with what's-her-face who only calls you when she needs a favor... And when I was growing up, sick days were a respite from the daily chores of life - of homework - of school time drama. Days when I could just curl up on my couch, kleenex in hand, and watch 4 hours of Anne of Green Gables followed by a long nap and a cup of tea. Ah, those were the days.

And those days are long, long over.

This time last week I was just thanking God that I only had a cold! That I could drink coffee with my sudafed (which I'm still not sure is the best thing, but it didn't kill me, so it can't be that bad, right?) and still care for my kids under the haze of congestion weighing on my head.

Now, instead of resting, drinking fluids, and blowing my nose - I'm constantly sanitizing everything I touch, nursing my daughter between vitamin C boosting juice breaks, and am suddenly fine with Matilda climbing up that chair if it means she is quiet for one minute longer...what...wait a minute...maybe you should get down from there. I'm losing focus again.

Did I mention my 2 month old still wakes up a good three or four times a night? Whew.

There are no decongestants strong enough to un-congest the chaos of your life while you are sick.

All of this, to me, falls in that category of life that is: the things they don't tell you to expect when you are going to have kids, and even if they did tell you, you can't really imagine it until you are there. Bottomline: it is a challenge to be a parent when you are sick.

And yet, you just keep going. Sick or not. That is one of the many things about motherhood that astounds me the most. There are mothers everywhere - we all know mothers, or ARE mothers - and these women, whether they look like they have it all together or not - are still functioning. Daily. They are keeping young persons alive, living and breathing, and consistently losing sleep, time, sanity, even hair over doing so...some of them are even working, volunteering, not to mention keeping up with dishes, laundry, cooking and other mundane necessities...and they just keep going. Mothers are like some powerful machine/zombie combo that just won't stop. Oh yeah - and I'm one of them?!? That hasn't quite hit me yet.

Women - how are we doing this on, like, three hours of sleep? How?

The only theory that makes sense is that these little beings we care for - these children - must have some kind of healing, restorative power in them that somehow rejuvenates our constant desire to maintain and care for them. (After all, they are lucky they are cute, right? Maybe their secret is in their smiles.)

As much as I love sleep (and boy, do I) my need for it is instantly diminished in the tiniest of yelps from my sweet baby. As much as I love to eat (and boy, do I) my hunger pangs dissipate the moment my child cries out. And as much as I love myself (you fill in the blank) I'm transformed into an uncharacteristically selfless creature who will fight tigers with my bare hands any time my babies are in need.

Roar.

Maybe motherhood is the best medicine after all. Now, go take two children and call me in the morning. Wait...that didn't come out right.

Date Night

My husband and I now refer to our married life before kids as our "single days". Indeed, in comparison they seem completely footloose and fancy free - not so dissimilar to how we viewed our actual single days in comparison to our married lives. I guess every new phase of life brings new appreciation for the chapter that has just closed.

We just recently went out on our first date night since the birth of baby girl numero dos. Unlike our first date after the birth of our first, this date was full of total escape and freedom. Two blissful hours of empty-headed nothingness. One hundred and twenty minutes of absolute peace...but who's counting?

Don't get me wrong, I love my girls with my entire being. Totally and absolutely. But (you knew that "but" was coming didn't you?) well, the truth is, they wouldn't even exist if I didn't take the time, effort, or joy in putting something else before them: marriage.

Back in our "single days", every night was a date night. Okay, maybe there weren't candlelit dinners and strolls on the beach every night, but genuinely, each night was spent basking in the presence of each other with limitless time to do whatever we might like to do. Even if that time was spent watching five seasons of 24 in the span of three weeks (true story), it was a seemingly neverending date night that we reveled in with sincerity. We thoroughly enjoyed our single days - crossing items off the "things to do before kids" list such as traveling to Paris (ahh, the memories) or sleeping on the street and waking up to the New Year's Rose Parade in Pasadena (not for the faint of heart).

But, even while we were in the midst of these neverending dates, we would occasionally stop, look at each other, and say something like "you know...this is going to mean a whole lot more when we have to actually plan ahead, get a sitter, and really need an escape to be with one another." It was true. Even then we knew that we had it good. Too good.

And so now, here we are. And BOY do we have a new appreciation for date nights!

After Matilda was born, it was definitely difficult to entrust my firstborn to the care of someone else. It took a while before I could not only leave the house physically, but mentally, and truly take advantage of time out with my husband. Now that we've warmed up a bit, seen our friends and family take a good beating and still stick around, and can now plan ahead enough to make our time worthwhile...date nights have become a treasured (though still infrequent) affair at our home.

It is definitely a challenge to get out and be alone. It costs money, it takes time, it usually inconveniences someone else...it is a beautiful thing! When we went out for this initial date post-Daphne, it was really the first time that it sunk in how unique and precious date night has become. It is completely exclusive time with the man I love. In a way it's like every day life is a long-distance relationship and the date night is a sweet, overdue reunion. It's not like we're two ships passing in the night. I mean, we actually like each other too much to not want to take time to talk and listen to each other every night. We just had a "date-night-in" where we ordered pizza and finally caught up on Modern Family episodes while our girls were both asleep (for the time being). But certainly, nothing beats a moment of pure escape, away from home, to genuinely reconnect with your partner.

I knew having children would bring a lot of new things into our little world. It's funny how, as our family expands, it somehow narrows my focus and priorities. It's not always easy to put my husband before myself (oh you wanted that last cookie?), and it is sometimes impossible to put him before the kids (what was that, honey? I couldn't hear you over the sound of the screaming toddler climbing up my back and the baby spitting up all over me)...but it is always worthwhile.

I don't know when the next date night will be, or what we will do (we always joke with our babysitters that we're actually just in the parking lot sleeping in the car - which doesn't sound half bad in my exhausted opinion) but I'm already looking forward to it. Not only does it bring new appreciation for my spouse, but it also gives me a chance to miss my girls and love coming home to them as well. Everybody wins!

*I particularly love the photo in this post. I think it depicts the family priorities well - with our girls looking outward, independently, and our union at the center. It makes me smile.

Potty Mouth

Well, we knew the time would come, I just didn't expect it to be so soon. Potty training. (gulp) I don't know why I'm surprised. It's not like my kid is any different than any other kid (right?) but I keep catching myself saying things like "we were going to wait until such-n-such but then she such-n-such..." and here we are. Matilda walked at just over 10 months, climbed out of her crib at 20, and has recently shown serious interest in the potty now at almost 23 months. These are all within "average" milestones - but it just feels soon to me to be standing in the aisle at Target trying to decide between Tangled or My Little Pony panties for my darling girl. **weird**

So, today was the day: day one (dramatic music here). She found the potty that we bought for her last night and we let her investigate it thoroughly. In fact, we got a little head start on today having her sit on it and go a little and read a couple of the potty books I got her.

Speaking of which - let's just take a moment here. Okay, so I go to Barnes & Noble the other day to see what they have in the category of potty training helpfulness. Turns out someone (quite a few people, actually) is making a killing coming up with ways to write and illustrate when and where poop happens. This is disturbing. Really, you won't believe what is out there. Sure, we all get a good chuckle at the "Everyone Poops" book. It is informative and humorous and helps break the ice on an otherwise awkward subject. And let's just be honest - poop is funny. Junior high humor aside, the word alone conjures up a good smirk on even the most formal of faces.

But let's draw the line at funny and informative and call it a day, folks! We need not get superfluous with the poop talk! There was even one book out there all about "Where's the poop" and you literally lift flaps in the book (interactive!) searching for different animals' poop in the woods. How is this helping my child learn to run to the potty in a moment of urgency? How is this helping her remember to take her undies off before she sits on the potty? And why do I care that Mr. Bear finally found his poop under an evergreen hedge? C'mon people.

Luckily, I was able to find a couple stories that fit the need. Cute, direct, to-the-point, and entertaining. I'm also thinking that the writers of the superfluous-poop books didn't take into account that parents would be reading these again and again and again and again, nearly every time you have to sit your toddler on the pot. And let's face it - one can only read "Princess of the Potty" so many times before you just want to throw it into the toilet...along with your sanity.

That being said: Day one is coming to a close. We've gone through about five successes, three major failures, and a bazillion Clorox wipes. I've decided to bribe her via sticker chart for now. I didn't do anything fancy. I figure 1) she's never seen a chart before so she won't know how lame this one is and 2) I may need to up the ante on these rewards soon, so I'd better start small. So, we just have a big poster board titled "Matilda's Potty Poster" (original, I know) and she gets to put a sticker on it wherever she wants each time she has a success (little success = little sticker, big success = big sticker) and with each "big" accident, she has to take down a sticker (boo!) So far, so good. She's into it.

My expectations have been low, so I'm pretty pleased with how we're starting out. Who knows how long the stickers will last? Who knows how many stickers will get up on the poster tomorrow? I know this is going to be a pretty long process with her, but I'm so glad to be able to be here for this milestone. I was just telling Josh last night how, even though I know this is going to be a major challenge, I'm so thankful I don't have to worry about daycare or work or leaving her with someone else to have to manage this messy time. Whew!

Thank you, Lord, that I get to be the one...home...cleaning up the poop.

Gee, I never thought I'd say that sentence!

Family Ties :: Kansas Trip Finale

Living away from family has its pros (no sudden, unannounced drop-bys from the relatives at the exact moment you get out of the shower only to discover your cat threw up on your only clean shirt and the baby just woke up with a serious diaper leakage issue) and its cons (no last minute babysitter for that midnight showing of Harry Potter your husband just scored tickets on)...

But, there is no time in life when this feeling of far-away-ness is most deeply felt than right after a new little bundle of joy is born. Everyone wants to help you. And everyone wants to hold her.

And there are simply just not enough iPhone pictures in the world to make up for the tangible touch of a little hand, and no app (yet) for that sweetnewborn scent that you would do your laundry in if you could just bottle it up.

So, when it came time for Daphne to be born, the plans got-a-cookin', so to speak. My sweet Grammy had just passed away, so everyone (except for me) had just gotten in their rounds of hugs and kisses from far and wide with the relatives that gathered in Kansas for the funeral. Since I was great with child at the time and couldn't be there, it left all the more longing for people to want to reach out and get their hands on this new baby - a precious symbol of life after such a sad loss in our family.

My brother's family had already decided to make a Kansas trip out for the State Fair, something his wife and kids had only heard legend of. Since I only get to see them about once a year now (that would be the sound of my heart breaking that you hear right now) I figured it was all the more bonus to get my babies out there at that same time - a two-for-one/killing-birds-with-stone sort of thing.

Unfortunately, since my husband had just started a new jo

b and taken three weeks off for the birth of our second daughter, he wouldn't be able to accompany us - hence the flying out of my mother and then sister to help me on what, from now on, would be known as "the voyage of insanity".

Pause. Upon our return, and now discovering that Josh was able to completely hibernate during the full 5 days - not to mention a couple trips to the driving range and movies - I'm starting to think that either A) this was his master plan to be able to finally make up all that sleep he's been losing, B) he's finally seeking his revenge on me since my pregnancies have forced him to be the one to have to ta

ke the chore of changing the kitty litter for the last two years (you can't change litter when prego) or C) he's smarter than I am after all. Hmm.

It was a sweet reunion when we all finally gathered in Kansas (sans Josh).

Above all, I finally got to see my Grandpa on this trip, and he got to meet sweet Daphne for the first time. At 90, this man continues to impress us all. He still does amazing woodwork (sending Matilda home with a new jigsaw puzzle) and had a smile on his face the whole time we visited...something that would make my Grammy very proud.

It was awesome to see everyone finally able to love on sweet Daphne for the first time...and get tackled by Matilda as well. At almost 2, Tilda is just getting to the age where she can really play with her cousins and yet young enough to still be completely doted on. My nephews range from ages 9 to 14 (how OLD does that make me feel?) and both my nieces are 7...so, it's been long enough since there were tinies in the family for Matilda and Daphne to be novelties to the rest of them.

They had so much fun playing "get chased by Matilda" or "get climbed on by Matilda" or "try to out-scream Matilda", and many pics were snapped as they took turns passing around Daphne, coating her chunky cheeks in kisses. With 15 of us total, it is always chaos trying to get anything done or go anywhere. Even meal times become loud, dragged-out events that resemble a circus more than a Norman Rockwell paint

ing. But with my mother's amazing cooking and a table that is always impeccably set, the effort outweighs the bedlam.

I think it was around day 3 that the novelty started to wear off. Don't get me wrong - everyone loves us. My family is nothing if not adoring over my girls. But, by the third night of wailing before bedtime and tantrums during supper and questionable smells from suspicious bottoms...well, that's when everyone is counting their blessings that they are related to you - and not you.

Still, there's no sweeter feeling than seeing your loved ones love on the ones you love. That's a lot of love. And that's exactly what made this voyage of insanity totally worthwhile.