Today was one of "those" days. Things were going well...until the beloved, anticipated, and dreaded afternoon nap.
I woke rather groggy and grumpy from normal mother sleep deprivation (a mother's work never being done kept me up until 11 pm), but a couple coffees, and two agreeable independent children later, and we were doing splendid. Morning nap for the baby wasn't "easy" but it went alright. Morning play time with the toddler was fine, I even got some cleaning done at the same time! Then Nap Time, with capitals N and T, arrived.
That wonderful time of day where children are supposed to close their little eyes, staying silent and still in their little beds for an extended period of time. Our toddler is in a pretty good routine these days. He usually goes to sleep well and I can count on minimum an hour and a half, occasionally even up to three hours. The baby is six and a half months and would naturally probably sleep two to three hours in his morning nap then have one or two shorter ones later on, but that would leave us trapped at home ALL day and me constantly juggling one sleeper. I can't do that. I need my alone time. I'm a mom, and a sleep-deprived introvert still recovering from a back injury. I NEED my alone time.
Instead the baby napped while a nursed him, then didn't like how I transferred him into his crib and refused to go back to sleep.
It really is futile arguing with a baby. They don't listen to reason, are unmoved by emotion, resistant to tears or begging. I tried anyway. I had already forgotten my "Acceptance = Success" wisdom from this morning. I knew I should give in but I was sooo tired I couldn't let go of the possibility that he would sleep in his crib and I would be by myself. So we fought for almost two hours, then I caved.
We came downstairs, I found a toy he didn't cry with and buried my crying eyes in a pillow. I even managed to relax for maybe ten minutes before our toddler woke up.
The rest of the afternoon was okay. I tried driving to the store hoping baby would catch a few winks - he didn't. Apparently cloudy skies are far too interesting.
I even thought bedtime would be easy since he was so tired. (Seriously, what six month old stays awake for five hours straight!) But that was a disaster because my store trip messed up the timing of dinner; husband was working even later than usual; baby had trouble settling because overtired; toddler and dog interrupted bedtime by marching into the nursery right when baby had just fallen asleep, which re-started the whole process; kicked toddler and dog out; toddler crawled onto kitchen counter to find snack; yelled until I came to help him down; baby now fully awake- you get the idea.
And now it's 10 pm. Both kids (and the dog) are fed, in bed, and asleep. The house is still standing, the world is still turning. So I write this as a reminder to myself and all other mommy readers struggling through a rough day. You WILL survive.
At least I made a very healthy, delicious supper that both toddler and husband loved. It's one of my favourite fall/winter soups. It freezes well and the hardest part is the chopping. So here it is, as found in and issue of 'Fine Cooking' by Ellie Krieger:
Autumn Vegetable Soup
Can be refrigerated for 3 days (I've done up to 7 days), and freezes up to 2 months.
Feel free to substitute other fall vegetables or beans.
(Takes me about 10 minutes focused chopping, plus cooking of 25 minutes = 35 mins total
Allow extra time if children afoot.)
Yields about 8 cups; serves 6 to 8 as a starter
(with my husband's eating it feeds our family of three as the main dish twice)
2 Tbs olive oil
3 medium carrots, cut into medium dice
1 large yellow onion, cut into medium dice
2 medium cloves garlic, minced
2 Cups peeled butternut squash, 1/2 inch cubed (about half a 2 lb squash, I often add the whole thing)
1/4 tsp ground allspice (I add a bit extra, this is my favourite part when the smell hugs my nose)
pinch cayenne pepper
1 qt lower salt chicken broth (= 4 cups)
1 can no salt added diced tomatoes
4 sprigs fresh thyme (I find a few dashes of ground thyme gives bigger punch)
2 Cups lightly packed, coarsely chopped kale (I add more, about 2 small bunches of kale)
1 Cup lower salt canned chickpeas
Heat the oil in a large soup pot over medium-high heat.
Add the carrots and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until the begin to soften, about 6 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 2 min more.
Add the squash, allspice, cayenne, and 1 tsp salt and stir to combine.
Add the broth, tomatoes with their juice, and thyme.
Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to medium, cover, and simmer for 10 mins.
Add the kale and the chickpeas and cook uncovered until the squash is tender and the kale has wilted, about 10 mins more.
Discard the thyme springs before serving.
Season to taste with more salt and cayenne.
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Acceptance = Success
Recently I realized that a huge part of success in motherhood is acceptance. Acceptance of your children, your spouse, and yourself.
I've mentioned before that my first son was a horrible sleeper, in fact he didn't sleep through the night until almost two years old. Yet I think my biggest mistake was resisting who he was, and what he needed at that time. (He is now a fantastic sleeper, and extremely easy to put to bed anywhere, but he's still a light sleeper. My husband keeps falling asleep while putting him to bed and if I go to wake my husband up, it's our son who wakes first, even if it's my husband's leg that I'm shaking). Instead I listened to the hum around me suggesting that it was my fault that he wasn't sleeping 12 hour stretches by 6 months, that there was some disobedient flaw in him for resisting my sleep schedule desires, and this must be fixed as soon as possible to avoid permanent repercussions. It wasn't until I accepted the way things were and relaxed that he began settling better at night.
Admittedly, I am probably one of the worst at rebelling against reality. I'm forever trying to improve things, fix them, make them better. I end up being the classic, miss-the-present type of person far too often. But I also stop for impromptu dance parties, and make plans on the fly (I still like a plan though, even if the plan is "we have no plan"). This is something I recently had to accept about myself because I found it was keeping me from reaching out to others. I assumed they were well-planned, or that they would feel put on the spot by my last minute invitation. So I made a couple phone calls asking if anyone was free to go to the event at the mall that I happened to see in the paper that morning. One friend was able to make it, and we had a great morning with the kids. It's grown our friendship and further encouraged one between our sons.
Accepting my husband's busy work schedule is maybe the most difficult for me. He owns a seasonal business so he works long hours and is exhausted when he gets home (see above: falling asleep with our two year old). But a good aspect is that he is a hard worker, a character trait we want our children to learn. And I know despite his absence this is his way of loving us. He only works this hard so provide for us, and care for his family. It's still hard juggling two bedtime schedules most nights, and can be sad to put effort into a supper that is cajoled into a toddler, hurried into my own mouth, and eaten cold or re-heated by him. When our baby rarely even sees him during the week I expect a bit of making strange to happen, further attaching the baby to me. But I'm trying, and accepting that this is what it is has helped.
Prayer has also helped. God promises to keep helping develop the good in us. (Philippians 1:6) God wants the best for us and our families. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and it actually works. I promise that if you ask God to help you accept yourself, your life and family for who they are - He will. I'm so thankful we don't have to do this alone.
God has given us beautiful life, in a beautiful world, and we are blessed to be parents, spouses, daughters, sisters, etc. Let's take His love and let it surround everything. Take a deep breath, remember all the good things about your current state in life, and let it out. Let the good cover the not so good parts, and we'll all make it through this together.
I've mentioned before that my first son was a horrible sleeper, in fact he didn't sleep through the night until almost two years old. Yet I think my biggest mistake was resisting who he was, and what he needed at that time. (He is now a fantastic sleeper, and extremely easy to put to bed anywhere, but he's still a light sleeper. My husband keeps falling asleep while putting him to bed and if I go to wake my husband up, it's our son who wakes first, even if it's my husband's leg that I'm shaking). Instead I listened to the hum around me suggesting that it was my fault that he wasn't sleeping 12 hour stretches by 6 months, that there was some disobedient flaw in him for resisting my sleep schedule desires, and this must be fixed as soon as possible to avoid permanent repercussions. It wasn't until I accepted the way things were and relaxed that he began settling better at night.
Admittedly, I am probably one of the worst at rebelling against reality. I'm forever trying to improve things, fix them, make them better. I end up being the classic, miss-the-present type of person far too often. But I also stop for impromptu dance parties, and make plans on the fly (I still like a plan though, even if the plan is "we have no plan"). This is something I recently had to accept about myself because I found it was keeping me from reaching out to others. I assumed they were well-planned, or that they would feel put on the spot by my last minute invitation. So I made a couple phone calls asking if anyone was free to go to the event at the mall that I happened to see in the paper that morning. One friend was able to make it, and we had a great morning with the kids. It's grown our friendship and further encouraged one between our sons.
Accepting my husband's busy work schedule is maybe the most difficult for me. He owns a seasonal business so he works long hours and is exhausted when he gets home (see above: falling asleep with our two year old). But a good aspect is that he is a hard worker, a character trait we want our children to learn. And I know despite his absence this is his way of loving us. He only works this hard so provide for us, and care for his family. It's still hard juggling two bedtime schedules most nights, and can be sad to put effort into a supper that is cajoled into a toddler, hurried into my own mouth, and eaten cold or re-heated by him. When our baby rarely even sees him during the week I expect a bit of making strange to happen, further attaching the baby to me. But I'm trying, and accepting that this is what it is has helped.
Prayer has also helped. God promises to keep helping develop the good in us. (Philippians 1:6) God wants the best for us and our families. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and it actually works. I promise that if you ask God to help you accept yourself, your life and family for who they are - He will. I'm so thankful we don't have to do this alone.
God has given us beautiful life, in a beautiful world, and we are blessed to be parents, spouses, daughters, sisters, etc. Let's take His love and let it surround everything. Take a deep breath, remember all the good things about your current state in life, and let it out. Let the good cover the not so good parts, and we'll all make it through this together.
Thursday, 18 October 2012
New Life in Old Skin
Day Four - Oops, I've already skipped and it was only Day Three, maybe not a very good sign. Alas I am not bothered because I am choosing to embrace the wise old saying, "I y'am what I y'am."
I once read a book that described a older woman who was asked by a genie of sorts what age she would be if she could pick any age at all, and she picked 30. Her reasoning was that she was young enough to have a full, active life ahead but old enough to be wise, comfortable and confident in her own skin. At least I think I read it in a book, I can't remember the book, so it's possible I dreamed this all myself. Either way it's stuck with me over the years and I anticipated 30 as my coming into my own.
Then thirty came. And went. And I was still struggling with familiar insecurities, fears, worries and regrets. But maybe thirty was the beginning of a new stage in the process.
In the past two, almost three, years I have grown more confident, more bold, more willing to take risks (the important kind, not the young-hearted I'm-invincible-let's-go-skydiving kind). I've been challenging myself to stop waiting for the perfect opportunities, and start making "good-enough" ones. Like making play dates with moms I don't know that well; making more concrete designs to start some sort of handmade art business (that's not vague and open-ended and unknown at all - ha. ha.), and even writing a blog. It doesn't matter if anyone reads it, it just matters that I'm putting myself out there by writing it. It reminds me that I have a life worth sharing with others.
Of course this is something I have believed intellectually for years, but I have allowed myself to be bullied by those negative gutter-dwelling thoughts. Those lies that do not come from my Creator. God made me Himself. Each passion, each good part, even the ones that the current culture and I think are less than perfect. So I've been daring myself to trust Him as the protector of my dreams, my heart, my life. As I let go of control, I seem to be finding the way back to myself; back to who I always was. Someone who laughs easily; who extends a hand in friendship just in case it may be returned; who draws and creates because she loves to; and who loves deeply, soft-heartedly. This is someone I could get used to.
I'm really going to enjoy being me.
(And yes, I actually like spinach.)
I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14
I once read a book that described a older woman who was asked by a genie of sorts what age she would be if she could pick any age at all, and she picked 30. Her reasoning was that she was young enough to have a full, active life ahead but old enough to be wise, comfortable and confident in her own skin. At least I think I read it in a book, I can't remember the book, so it's possible I dreamed this all myself. Either way it's stuck with me over the years and I anticipated 30 as my coming into my own.
Then thirty came. And went. And I was still struggling with familiar insecurities, fears, worries and regrets. But maybe thirty was the beginning of a new stage in the process.
In the past two, almost three, years I have grown more confident, more bold, more willing to take risks (the important kind, not the young-hearted I'm-invincible-let's-go-skydiving kind). I've been challenging myself to stop waiting for the perfect opportunities, and start making "good-enough" ones. Like making play dates with moms I don't know that well; making more concrete designs to start some sort of handmade art business (that's not vague and open-ended and unknown at all - ha. ha.), and even writing a blog. It doesn't matter if anyone reads it, it just matters that I'm putting myself out there by writing it. It reminds me that I have a life worth sharing with others.
Of course this is something I have believed intellectually for years, but I have allowed myself to be bullied by those negative gutter-dwelling thoughts. Those lies that do not come from my Creator. God made me Himself. Each passion, each good part, even the ones that the current culture and I think are less than perfect. So I've been daring myself to trust Him as the protector of my dreams, my heart, my life. As I let go of control, I seem to be finding the way back to myself; back to who I always was. Someone who laughs easily; who extends a hand in friendship just in case it may be returned; who draws and creates because she loves to; and who loves deeply, soft-heartedly. This is someone I could get used to.
I'm really going to enjoy being me.
(And yes, I actually like spinach.)
I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
One Day Two Day Tomorrow's a New Day
Well, here I am trying to make good on my self-promise to blog everyday. (I know all my faithful followers are grateful - all one of you, who is myself only because I didn't know that's what I was doing - ha ha)
Day two and it's not easy, even with the understanding that it need not be Pulitzer worthy. I'm surrounded by laundry to put away, and sleep desperately needed. At least my back happens to be hiding the untidy kitchen from view.
Today's realizations are that I should probably write in the morning when the day is fresh and full of positive potential. Not at the end when I can ruminate on all the mistakes I made. Although my sister and I nic-named me Eeyore in high school, I prefer to pass on a positive energy to the world at large.
And so, this will be short as I head to bed, praying that the baby who has fought sleep tonight, and already cried out twice (teething?), will sleep soundly; that I will not be haunted again by nightmares of being held prisoner by Honey Boo Boo's mother; and hope that tomorrow my mind will be sunny again.
I leave you with something I pray over my children each night:
"May the Lord bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you."
Sweet dreams
Day two and it's not easy, even with the understanding that it need not be Pulitzer worthy. I'm surrounded by laundry to put away, and sleep desperately needed. At least my back happens to be hiding the untidy kitchen from view.
Today's realizations are that I should probably write in the morning when the day is fresh and full of positive potential. Not at the end when I can ruminate on all the mistakes I made. Although my sister and I nic-named me Eeyore in high school, I prefer to pass on a positive energy to the world at large.
And so, this will be short as I head to bed, praying that the baby who has fought sleep tonight, and already cried out twice (teething?), will sleep soundly; that I will not be haunted again by nightmares of being held prisoner by Honey Boo Boo's mother; and hope that tomorrow my mind will be sunny again.
I leave you with something I pray over my children each night:"May the Lord bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you."
Sweet dreams
Monday, 15 October 2012
What is a blog?
Apparently blogging isn't like writing English essays, but more like a really long tweet. I couldn't understand how other people (especially moms) had time to blog on a daily basis. Then I started reading other blogs.
I was feeling such pressure to produce literary masterpieces instead of simply sharing my thoughts but I've found blogs that say, "hey check out my other blog", or ones that are barely five sentences long. I think I can handle that (if the kids cooperate).
So today begins my attempt at writing a daily blog, or an almost daily one. They won't always be brimming over with wisdom, wit or charm. They will be honest and hopefully every once in awhile there will be something you can take away to benefit your day. Maybe a book resource, a tip, a healthy recipe, or maybe a sense of comraderie from another mom who is just trying to survive the day.
But hopefully we'll all find ways to not just survive, but actually thrive. I believe this mom role is an opportunity to grow into the person we want to be, the person God created us to be. So let's stick together and we'll make it through even better than when we started.
Today's tip: Read 'Mom Connection' by Tracey Bianchi
I'm almost halfway through it and it's already given me moments of peace, reassurance and encouragement.
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
I want more?
My husband and I currently have two children and somedays I feel like I'm literally, mentally losing it because the of the responsibility; other days.... I actually want more.
In any conversation we've had my husband only wants two. I often dream of at least three kids, but I'm a realist (to a fault) and I recognize that it's wise to see how we handle life with two first. Refer to above and you see that some days I don't handle it well at all. My husband handles them great, but he usually has them in small doses, and on the fun days. The other day I left him alone with our 2 1/2 year old with instructions to get our garden ready for winter. Nothing too complex, just move a couple plants already excavated, plant a few bulbs and add some dirt and mulch. I took the baby to IKEA to pick up some organizing supplies and a storage shelf for my sister (yes, I'm crazy but another blog for that). An hour or so after I left I got the phone call. "Where are you? I can't do this." I reassured him he could, went over the garden instructions again, and promised to be home soon. When I got finally arrived there (consider Saturday check out lines) the garden wasn't done, and the house was pretty messy. I was trying not to be annoyed and then his greeting came, "I don't know how you do it. He's a lot of work." By work he means that our son is two and a half, physically energetic and talks non-stop (I thought kids were supposed to be one or the other?). This was a nice affirmation for me but something to consider if we try to add more kids to the mix. My husband also owns his own company that is a seasonal business which means long unpredictable hours, and fluctuating income. This means I often make supper, eat supper, do baths and bedtimes solo. We love animals, so we have a dog and a cat. This means vet appointments, pet food that doesn't come from the grocery store, nail cutting for the dog, and walks plus runs for the dog. On top of all that my husband is a musician, and I'm an visual artist, meaning our hobbies take time and space (and mine usually get none). And did I mention that at 32 years old I have ruptured a disc in my spine twice so my pain level occasionally makes for a short temper? And yet, when I snuggle my six month old into my chest, I think, "I want more."
He comes from a family of two. I come from a family of five. So I'm used to a house full of people, yet I often enjoy silence and he turns on the radio or tv in every room he's in. My husband is part introvert, part extrovert, but he doesn't like to talk much. I'm more introverted meaning I need time by myself to recharge. A difficult task with children under five. Yet I look at the board that has our two sons infant footprints and there is space for a third set. Coincidence it's true, it just happened to be the length of board that I grabbed for our first, then never trimmed shorter. So I kinda want more.
There are those days where everything seems to go wrong. The coffee grinds spill all over. The juice gets shaken with the lid not quite shut. The kids are whiny and cranky, and were tag teaming to keep me up all night. I can feel a virus of some sort hovering underground. The dog has eaten another shoe. Then 4 pm hits, and every mother knows what that means. Yet even in that chaos, usually there is at least one shining moment to help maintain balance. Sometimes you have to look for it but it's there whether you want more kids or not. Maybe its that sweet kiss for no reason, or the huge belly laugh, or the sense of humour that makes you look the other way when enforcing a timeout. Or it's those big, bright eyes waiting to see all that life has to offer, and I think, maybe I want more.
The thing that gets me the most, is the family photos. I love the pictures with enough people for at least one baseball team. I envy those ones with four or more teenagers (maybe because they're all potty-trained and independent sleepers). They definitely make me want more.
It won't be a decision made lightly, and it has to be because we want it for us, not because we like what someone else has. We would have to decide if I would go back to work for more money with more mouths to feed, or stay home to run the house. It would mean agreeing to endure my period of emotional, and mental instability during the infant stage (at least). We'd have to consider that things would be tighter money-wise so perhaps no annual family trips to Belize (ha ha), and only one extra curricular each. But maybe that's not what's important anyway.
Time will tell I suppose. I'm not setting up any gift registry soon (though I'm pretty sure that's only allowed for one's firstborn anyway), but I'm not giving away the baby clothes either. Our youngest is only six months, so this could be sleep deprivation talking, but yeah, maybe, I think, possibly I might want more.
In any conversation we've had my husband only wants two. I often dream of at least three kids, but I'm a realist (to a fault) and I recognize that it's wise to see how we handle life with two first. Refer to above and you see that some days I don't handle it well at all. My husband handles them great, but he usually has them in small doses, and on the fun days. The other day I left him alone with our 2 1/2 year old with instructions to get our garden ready for winter. Nothing too complex, just move a couple plants already excavated, plant a few bulbs and add some dirt and mulch. I took the baby to IKEA to pick up some organizing supplies and a storage shelf for my sister (yes, I'm crazy but another blog for that). An hour or so after I left I got the phone call. "Where are you? I can't do this." I reassured him he could, went over the garden instructions again, and promised to be home soon. When I got finally arrived there (consider Saturday check out lines) the garden wasn't done, and the house was pretty messy. I was trying not to be annoyed and then his greeting came, "I don't know how you do it. He's a lot of work." By work he means that our son is two and a half, physically energetic and talks non-stop (I thought kids were supposed to be one or the other?). This was a nice affirmation for me but something to consider if we try to add more kids to the mix. My husband also owns his own company that is a seasonal business which means long unpredictable hours, and fluctuating income. This means I often make supper, eat supper, do baths and bedtimes solo. We love animals, so we have a dog and a cat. This means vet appointments, pet food that doesn't come from the grocery store, nail cutting for the dog, and walks plus runs for the dog. On top of all that my husband is a musician, and I'm an visual artist, meaning our hobbies take time and space (and mine usually get none). And did I mention that at 32 years old I have ruptured a disc in my spine twice so my pain level occasionally makes for a short temper? And yet, when I snuggle my six month old into my chest, I think, "I want more."
He comes from a family of two. I come from a family of five. So I'm used to a house full of people, yet I often enjoy silence and he turns on the radio or tv in every room he's in. My husband is part introvert, part extrovert, but he doesn't like to talk much. I'm more introverted meaning I need time by myself to recharge. A difficult task with children under five. Yet I look at the board that has our two sons infant footprints and there is space for a third set. Coincidence it's true, it just happened to be the length of board that I grabbed for our first, then never trimmed shorter. So I kinda want more.
There are those days where everything seems to go wrong. The coffee grinds spill all over. The juice gets shaken with the lid not quite shut. The kids are whiny and cranky, and were tag teaming to keep me up all night. I can feel a virus of some sort hovering underground. The dog has eaten another shoe. Then 4 pm hits, and every mother knows what that means. Yet even in that chaos, usually there is at least one shining moment to help maintain balance. Sometimes you have to look for it but it's there whether you want more kids or not. Maybe its that sweet kiss for no reason, or the huge belly laugh, or the sense of humour that makes you look the other way when enforcing a timeout. Or it's those big, bright eyes waiting to see all that life has to offer, and I think, maybe I want more.
The thing that gets me the most, is the family photos. I love the pictures with enough people for at least one baseball team. I envy those ones with four or more teenagers (maybe because they're all potty-trained and independent sleepers). They definitely make me want more.
It won't be a decision made lightly, and it has to be because we want it for us, not because we like what someone else has. We would have to decide if I would go back to work for more money with more mouths to feed, or stay home to run the house. It would mean agreeing to endure my period of emotional, and mental instability during the infant stage (at least). We'd have to consider that things would be tighter money-wise so perhaps no annual family trips to Belize (ha ha), and only one extra curricular each. But maybe that's not what's important anyway.
Time will tell I suppose. I'm not setting up any gift registry soon (though I'm pretty sure that's only allowed for one's firstborn anyway), but I'm not giving away the baby clothes either. Our youngest is only six months, so this could be sleep deprivation talking, but yeah, maybe, I think, possibly I might want more.
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