2009

Say it with me.......Awwww. The kids had a lot of fun doing fireworks tonight. Despite my mother's dire predictions and lectures about the terrible dangers of fireworks everyone still has all ten fingers and toes. Jeff and I have gotten old and boring - I don't like to be on the road on New Years Eve so we usually stay home, shoot off fireworks with the neighbors, and barely make it to midnight.

I don't believe in resolutions because I think they are contrived and doomed to failure. I do however make goals each year. Resolutions are so final - you either quit smoking or you don't, you lose weight or you don't. Goals are a process and it doesn't matter if you screw up on January 2nd because it is a goal not an all or nothing proposition.

Goals for 2009:

1.) Listening more than I talk

2.) Being encouraging, discerning, and joyous in my daily life

3.) Spending time with Jeff and each of the kids one on one for special time together

4.) Consistency with my running group and persistence with my gym schedule

5) Wise, thoughtful financial decisions made as a team

6.) Healthy choices 80% of the time (food, exercise, sleep, and fluids)

7.) Discipline and balance with time management - Jeff, kids, school, work, friends, housework

Not Very Happy

I have found myself doing my typical depression pattern over the last few weeks - shopping more, being kind of reclusive from my friends, feeling tired. I have my follow up with my surgeon next week - I am having some complications from my surgery and I have to wait six months for the fixer surgery. That in itself is bringing me down.

Plus the bubble that I have managed to maintain around myself in the two years since my Mom and stepdad got divorced has burst. In the past two weeks I have passed him twice on the road and it has gotten to me more than I expected. When they divorced the overwhelming feeling for me was sadness for my Mom and relief for me. I no longer had to smile and nod whenever people gushed over him. I was raised to never air your family laundry in public and often I didn't even air my feelings toward him in private either - I just sucked it up and put a smile on my face. I "played nice" for 26 years and what did it get me - reviled and talked about and lied about and my children ignored. Sometimes I wished that I lived in the family that talked about things and moved on,. that can air feelings and disagreements and work through it. But I don't - we have so many elephants in the room the smell of shit is overwhelming.

Remember how in the old days people used to whisper an illness as if not speaking it aloud made it not real. Uncle John has the *whisper* cancer. For us it was (and still sometimes is) pretending everything is normal. Don't mention the newspaper article about him that was so full of self-aggrandizement and outright lies as to be absolutely ludicrous. Don't push him on obvious falsehoods from his past because it will make the day uncomfortable. Pretend not to notice when he is talking out of his ass and you know the "real" answer because it isn't OK to challenge. Take the subtle little digs about your looks, your weight, your intelligence, your ambition, your choices and don't fight back because that isn't nice. But that is in the past - hence the relief.

But there is still the present with another family member. Pretending everything is normal and he isn't married to a crazy woman. Lecturing the kids about not mentioning "her" name when we all spend time with him. Trying to explain to the kids why she hates them so much - that they did absolutely nothing wrong and it is a problem with her and not them. But still acting like everything is fine with him - putting a smile on my face and sucking it up for the sake of a family relationship. Never mentioning how much it hurts that he lets her treat us like dirt without standing up for us in any real meaningful way. That by his actions he validates her vitriolic poison.

I am down and I am tired - everyone has a screwed up family and I am no different than most. I am thankful how much my relationship with my mother has grown over the last several years. I am thankful for a lot of things but I am also contemplative. For so much of my life I have "kept sweet" and I am about all out of sweet.

Semi-Annual Get rid of Crap Day

We have two days a year when we go through all of our stuff and separate everything into Keep, Give Away, and Throw Away. Usually those official days are June 1st and December 1st but I was a little off my game this year so we waited until after Christmas.

We have too much stuff.....seriously. This twice yearly exercise is a good way to remind myself how fortunate we are. I recently read this book about someone that committed to not purchasing anything other than food and toiletries for one year. We need to do that.

Realistically we won't but we should. If we have this much stuff to give away every 6 months then we have too much. I usually spend the week after Christmas contemplating what I want the next year of our lives to be - what do we want to focus on, where will we go, what will we do, etc. I am never going to be one to live an austere, monastic life but I would like to concentrate more on giving in the next year. Whether it be giving time, giving clothes, giving food, or a listening ear and doing it as a family.

You'll shoot your eye out...

My son got a BB gun this Christmas ala A Christmas Story. You can hear me say "You'll shoot your eye out about halfway through.

We had a wonderful Christmas - calm and happy. Although it started entirely too early. The kids started at around 1:30 am - "Is it time yet?"and were on an hourly schedule until 6:30 am when my husband and I finally gave in. It would have been perfect if my Mom could have been here but she is sick right now.

And my husband did really well with presents this year - he is such a horrendous liar. Of course I wouldn't want to be married to a man that could lie convincingly.

Merry Christmas to everyone!

Christmas Light Night

See how happy the kids look? Appearances can be deceiving. Christmas Light Night is one of my favorite family traditions and this year it was pretty much a bust. My husband let the cat out of the bag earlier today so the kids already knew that tonight was night light thereby ruining one of the big parts of Christmas Light Night - running into the kids rooms after we put them to bed for the night and surprising them.

But I could deal with that. I spend close to thirty minutes making homemade hot cocoa after dinner and putting it into a huge Igloo thermos only to have my three children tell me that they don't want to go look at lights. I didn't want to be that psycho mom that forces the kids to do something and they are miserable the whole time but I really was disappointed. We left the kids with Nana and went to drop some chicken noodle soup off to my mom (who is sick) and then look at Christmas Lights by ourselves.

I have to admit the more I thought about it the more irritated I got - typical martyr mom mentality - "after all I do for them and they can't even come look at Christmas lights with me". Then Nana called and said that Hannah was upset because we didn't come back after my Moms to go look at lights together. Huh? She said she didn't want to go earlier.

So we turn around to go home and pick up the kids - Devin is still pouting because he doesn't want to go but Caitlin and Hannah are now on board. I have dissolved into a puddle of hurt feelings and proceed to act like a 2 year old and say I am not going. My husband puts his foot down and orders everyone into the car because dammit we are going to have fun together!!

Another happy family outing..... After a quick lecture by Jeff to all of us about what is important about Christmas and what babies we are all being - we start over (suitably chastened). By the time we got to the light show everyone was having fun and enjoyed it but man did it take a while to get there.

Anticipation

My kids are practically vibrating with the excitement of Christmas. My little one must have asked 15 times this morning if she could open just one present. Devin has been whispering in my ear, "Mommy you can tell me what you got - I will act surprised when I open it." Too smart that one.

My husband told me last night before we wrapped all the presents that he was just going to wait until the after Christmas sales to buy my Christmas present. Since he knows how important Christmas is to me (and how much I like actually opening wrapped presents) he must have really done well this year. He had that kind of sheepish "I have a secret" look on his face when he spun his line about hitting the after Christmas sales. And if he is actually obtuse enough to think that I will appreciate him saving a little money by buying me something after Christmas you will be reading about it later.

I know Christmas isn't about the presents but there is that childish side of me that likes the tacky wrapping paper and ripping through it like a five yr. old child. I understand my children's overwhelming anticipation because I am the same way - even now as an adult. But now most of my excitement is because I can't wait to see them open their presents. I can't wait to see that look of pure joy when they open a present and it is something they have wanted for months and months. And honestly it doesn't matter to me if they play with the box more than the present - my high comes from seeing their expression when they open it. Everything else is just bonus.

My name is Tamara and I spoil my children....

SORRY!

I think board games build character - plus they are fun and since it is freezing down here (30 degrees) it helps pass the time. People up north are used to that kind of cold but we take it as a sign to hunker down, drink hot chocolate, play board games and watch Christmas movies. I loved to play SORRY! as a kid complete with the sycophantic, slightly nasally SORRY! whenever I stole someones spot and then sent them back to start.

My little one is still learning how to lose with any kind of grace. Hence the board games - you win sometimes, you lose sometimes, and you have to do both without whining or teasing or you can't play the next game. It is a process....

START: Everyone still looks pretty happy

SORRY!

Three guesses who won and the first two don't count.

Fitting in Sleep

Yesterday I was reading this article about the Duggar woman having her 18th child and she was saying that having a baby makes you realize how little sleep you need. The thought of having 18 children makes an involuntary shudder race down my spine but I agree that these days I get much less sleep than I want and probably a little less than my body actually needs.

This last week we have had all the kids winter parties and performances at school, several holiday parties to attend, and of course, our own Christmas brunch and cookie party. For some reason every year I forget how long it takes to make 12 pounds of icing in all different colors. The final count from yesterday was 47 kids and I didn't count the adults. Thankfully it is an open house so everyone comes at different times because 47 kids trying to decorate cookies at one time would be a little much even for me.

All the preparations for the party usually does involve staying up late because I am an incorrigible procrastinator. So the night before I end up staying up way too late making all the icing and making the play dough for outside. This year we had the cookie decorating center, the play dough center, the marshmallows with food dye markers, the fake snow center (LOVE steve spangler science!), and sidewalk chalk for the fence. Much like wrapping the presents I tell myself I am going to be more organized next year but then I'm not.

One day when my kids are older they aren't going to want to do the cookie party anymore and I will be heartbroken. I will be able to sleep as much as I want but I won't have near as much fun.

First Hot Flash

Today I was out with my husband and I had my first post-surgical hot flash. I had a few hot flashes with my last pregnancy because I had hormonal issues plus all the meds I had to take to stay pregnant but they were nothing like this. I noticed I started to feel warm and took off my jacket thinking the heat was on too high. Within another 2 minutes I felt like my head, especially my face, was on fire. I actually stuck my hands in my ice water and rubbed them on my face to try and cool down. Nada. I went outside thinking that would help. Not so much.

My surgeon said it would take a while to get everything in balance as my natural hormones were dropping. I knew to expect it but felt at the mercy of my body. It was depressing. Right after that we went to Academy, I am still on freaking fire and at the entrance there is this woman that looks about 15 months pregnant and she was definitely older than I am. Don't get me wrong - I still feel like a woman after my hysterectomy. I don't mourn the fact that I can't have any more babies because I don't want anymore. But it pisses me off that I am dealing with menopause in my early thirties. Where are the books for me? I am not a empty nester struggling with hot flashes and night sweats - I am a young mom of three children.

Anyway I got a little depressed and did what a lot of women do in that situation (at least the women in my family). I went clothes shopping. I may still battle hot flashes until my hormone levels get balanced out but at least I will do it in new clothes and lingerie.

The confession

My darling son seemed a little "off" today after school. I didn't give it much thought because he can get a little squirrelly around the holidays. He is a child that thrives on routine and everything being the same (not uncommon for a child with autism). While he enjoys the activities of the holidays, the difference in his normal routine makes him anxious and a little random for lack of a better word.

Finally around 6 pm he tells me that he needs to talk to me in the bedroom. Thinking that he is going to ask if he can have a piece of gingerbread for the 48th time today I tell him "not right now". After about 5 seconds, he tells me that he REALLY needs to talk to me in private.

Off I go to my room to see my son has beat me there and is splayed out on my bed with his most adorable "I have been bad" look. He proceeds to tell me that him and Tyler were hitting each other with their lunchboxes (????) and his teacher said that they both were going to talk to the principal tomorrow. I asked him why he was fighting with Tyler. Typical boy answer "We weren't fighting Mommy - just playing". I have no idea if my son just misread the situation or if they really were just playing. I will have to find out tomorrow.

I launched into the lecture about appropriate behavior and listening to his teacher. About 2 minutes into my controlled rant, my son starts crying. I ask him what is wrong and he says that I was supposed to thank him for telling me about it and ask him not to do that again and then it would be over. Apparently my son has been watching Leave it to Beaver. This response was just so Devin - he had completely scripted his entire confession and how I would respond and when I went off script it freaked him out.

Sometimes it is hard to differentiate between normal boy stuff and autism. If you ever see me hitting someone with my lunchbox it is a pretty safe bet that person is not my friend. But apparently 8 yr old boys (and all other ages of men) have different friendship rules. Hitting each other, bodily noises, singing alternate versions of holiday songs, pretending your finger is a gun and shooting at EVERYTHING - typical 8 yr. old boy behaviour. Crying over your script not working out, pouring out shampoo when you get anxious, orienting yourself in space with an atlas, and memorizing the order of the presidents and when they served - not so much.

I love Christmas!

Before and After - every year I forget how freaking enormous the tree is. See little Hannah doing the flamingo stand? That is a family trait - it is impossible for the women in my family to wash dishes without standing like this.

Who couldn't love this child?? I love her so much it makes me grit my teeth.

Today in Pictures

Early Morning Kitty Dress-Up

Breakfast with Santa

Hannah's Last Soccer Game

Exploring the Tree Cave with Uncle Wade, Summer, & Andrew

Hannah's first trophy

Eat three candies - put one on the house......repeat, repeat, repeat

SUGAR HIGH!!

5 kids, 3 hours, and 10 pounds of candy - that glass isn't near big enough.

Presents with my niece and nephew in town for the weekend.

Grown -up Christmas Party and Ornament Exchange

My friend Julie - one of the busiest Moms I know.

Pick up from Parent's Night Out - kids are tired, oversugared, and played out.

Difference between me and Jeff

Jeff and I were talking about the lottery today - the multistate lotto in our area is up to over 200 million. Out comes the inevitable question - what would you do if you won the lottery?

My husbands answer was that he would get his PhD in economics instead of just a masters. Really? That is what he would do with 200 million dollars? He realized that I was singularly unimpressed with his answer and he asks what I would do.

Me - I would do jack shit nothing. I mean I would buy plenty but I wouldn't do anything noteworthy. I would play with my family, travel with my family, shop pretty extensively, volunteer for and give money to some of the charities that mean a lot to me, lunch with my friends. Basically I would live a more luxurious and less responsible version of the life I have now.

But if my husband wants to be Dr. Jefe he can have it. I will drink mimosas out by the pool while he is doing homework.

Enjoying each moment

Today was Caitlin's annual Neurology appointment. Having a child with cerebral palsy involves a lot of "ologists". This year was a great appointment not only because Caitlin is doing so well and making so much progress - she learned how to button a button this year! - but also because of where I am as her mother.

For much of her life I have always guided Caitlin towards things that I thought she had a talent for and would achieve success with. The idea being that with success would come the confidence that I thought was critical for her self-esteem. But in the last year I have come to acceptance about the reality of her disability and have encouraged her to try whatever she is interested in even if it meant chancing abject failure. The higher the risk the greater the reward.

Last night was Fine Arts night at the kids school (I love their school) and Hannah was dancing and Caitlin was dancing, singing, and playing the recorder. When she was little I was grateful that she could walk, ecstatic when she started running but I never imagined that she would ever dance. My daughter is extremely shy and has terrible stage fright but she loves to dance. I cried like a baby watching her grand plie and arabesqe with such fluid motion. And seeing her face and realizing how much she loved it. There really aren't adequate words to describe what it feels like to watch your child do something you never thought they would be capable of.

The next dance one of Caitlins best buddies (who has autism) was dancing and I looked over to see tears streaming down her mother's face. I knew exactly what she was feeling. In some ways having a child with a disability can be liberating - you are freed from the stifling perfect parent = perfect child equation that seems to be the accepted norm nowadays. You are free to enjoy each accomplishment for its own merit instead of viewing it as one more step to molding the perfect alpha child. I was so proud of her and how far she has come, how hard she has fought to get here.

Perception Vs. Reality

Today was one of those strange days where the way you feel on the inside doesn't match the perception others have of you. I got an email from a friend this morning asking for my advice with her daughter because she thinks I am the "best mom she knows". At lunch with my girlfriends, they were asking me what I would do in different situations. At the kids choir recital, one of my friends told my Mom that I was the calmest mom she knew (she witnessed the lunchbox in the ass episode).

Seriously WTF? Don't get me wrong - it was flattering and everyone needs a little mommy boost every once in a while but it isn't reality. Listen, two of my kids came to blows over a chess game the other day. I had a Mommy Dearest moment the other night because one of my kids created a mini tsunami in the bathtub and got at least a /4 inch of water over the entire floor. I carried an empty box of Cascade around with me half the day today so I wouldn't forget to buy some at the store. I have been to the store 3 times in the last 4 days specifically to buy Cascade and I forgot to buy it. I am sitting in a big old glass house and I am really in no position to parcel out advice as if I "have it all together" I love my kids with a passion but I am just as crazed, overscheduled, anal-retentive, and vaguely disorganized as the next woman.

I think we do ourselves a disservice as wives and mothers when we look to someone else with the idea that they are somehow "doing it better". Because then we convince ourselves that if they are doing it better then we aren't doing good enough. Usually the Supermom down the street, or in the PTA, or at church isn't doing it any better than the rest of us. I went for coffee with my Mom idol a few weeks ago - this woman was the mom that I wanted to be when I grew up. I was shocked when she told me that she used to get mad at her husband when her babies were little because he got to talk to grown ups all day and she was stuck with the baby. It sounds so petty but I was exhilarated - Supermom had feet of clay. You mean I wasn't the only Mom that used to be jealous of my husbands ability to have grown-up conversations. I wasn't the only Mom who passed the baby off to my husband the second he got home because I needed five minutes without anyone touching me. She wasn't Supermom (although she is an incredible Mom) and all those years that I thought she was the perfect Mom just made me feel bad about my own parenting.

And my friends that have put me undeservedly on the Mommy pedestal? - I am just the chick walking into the Kroger with an empty box of Cascade as a reminder.

Laughing at my kids

I laugh at my children (and other people including myself).....frequently.

I nearly pissed my pants last night about Hannah's halo. I laughed (on the inside) when my daughter got upset with her brother in the backyard today and threw a ball at him - narrowly missing his head. I also laughed when I clobbered my mom in the head with a takeout box leaving the restaurant this afternoon. I laugh when my kids fall. I laughed today while Hannah was reading Dick and Jane and she kept having to sound out Dick. After about the fifth time, she exclaimed "I just can't remember Dick!".

I haven't decided whether this is a true character flaw or if I am just teaching my kids to roll with the punches and move on. My children do have the tendency to laugh and keep a sense of humor when something goes wrong - the milk spills, the keys are locked in the car (this happens frequently when they are with me), something breaks. The downside is that they can't take a picture without doing bunny ears, can't see someone fall without smothering (or not) a laugh but better to laugh than cry right? Or at least that is how I console myself because I know that I will probably keep laughing and I don't want to feel bad about it.

Jacked Up Halo

It really comes as no surprise that out of all the kids at the Choir Recital at church tonight, Hannah was the one with the jacked up crooked halo. One because Hannah ALWAYS has to be different and Two because Hannah is my little crooked halo girl. Everyone thinks she is so angelic but they haven't seen her foongi face when she doesn't get what she wants.

This isn't a very good picture but all the kids were so cute. They have been practicing for two months and if I have heard the music once I have heard it a thousand times. I downloaded it onto my IPOD so we could listen to it in the car (since that seems to be where we spend the majority of our time) and I could have stood up there and sung all those songs too. I have Joy to the World on a permanent loop in my head.

I try to keep Hannah involved in things where she has the opportunity to perform because she loves being the center of attention. She wants to climb up on that stage and sing, she can't take a picture without posing, and I have caught her practicing different expressions in the mirror. My concern is that her need to be noticed and be the center of attention will lead her down the wrong path as she gets older. I don't want her being wild and crazy as a teenager because she wants everyone to notice her and I don't want her to dress like a hoochie so that people will tell her how cute she is. I would rather her sing in the church choir and get positive attention that way or be in a school play and have everyone oof and ahh.

And yes I realize that you should be singing at church for God and not to get attention but this isn't a perfect world we live in. If singing in the church choir and being in plays at school gives her the attention she craves and keeps her from becoming hoochified later on then I am all for it.

Christmas Shopping

As of tonight I am officially done with Christmas shopping. Every year the procedure is about the same - I get my shopping completed almost obscenely early and then procrastinate on the wrapping until the last possible minute.

I can't tell you how many Christmas Eve's my husband and I have frantically assembled and wrapped the avalanche of gifts involved with having three children. Ever year I promise myself that next year will be different - I will be super organized and be able to spend a relaxing Christmas Eve drinking hot cocoa. I love the Christmas season - the cookies, the lights, the presents, the traditions. Obsessively watching my favorite Christmas movie - A Christmas Story.

I am trying to relax and enjoy the season. I don't want my kids to remember Christmas as a stressful time. I am less concerned with recreating the Norman Rockwell version of Christmas and more concerned with the kids having fun and making memories. Decorating the tree, making popcorn garlands, baking cookies, decorating the gingerbread houses, Christmas Light Night (my favorite night of the season), but most importantly not trying to micromanage the fun or traditions.

Growing Up

My kids are going on a field trip today to the theatre. I know I am biased but man I have some cutie pie kids. But I am having a maudlin Mommy moment. I had to buy Devin some new dress shoes yesterday and we had to go to the Men's section - I thought I was going to cry right there in the shoe store! My little eight year old boy is having to buy men's shoes. And he was very particular when he was picking out his suit and shirt and tie. I should be thankful that he doesn't have his father's fashion sense but instead I am just kind of sad that he is getting old enough to care about his clothes and how he looks.

Right on the heels of my near breakdown in the shoe store my daughter informs me that she is not wearing her fancy dress to the theatre because it is too "poufy" and she wants to wear something more "her". Cue the waterworks - both my babies are growing up. At least Hannah still will wear whatever I give her. Although I have a sneaking suspicion that Hannah will not outgrow girly girl poufy.

Caitlin's outfit matches her perfectly, not poufy and glitzy, just slim and sleek and elegant. But I am not ready for my little girl to look elegant. I want her to still ooh and ahh over the glitter sequin shoes instead of confidently maneuvering to the black low heeled boots. Am I ready for my son to tell me that he looks really sharp (which he does)? Not really but ready or not - it is what it is.

Loss

I got an email from a friend of mine today - her baby nephew is dying. Not in the metaphorical sense that once you are born you begin to die but dying soon. This beautiful baby with big blue eyes will probably only live another 2 or 3 months. I can't even imagine the pain and terror their family is facing.

People often ask me how I got through my children's hospitalizations. How could I stand sitting by Caitlin's bedside watching my little 1 lb baby stop breathing and be resuscitated. Being on the phone with my son's nurse when he was 3 weeks old and hearing "Code Blue Baby Ritchie" over the PA and knowing it was my child. The uncertainty, the roller coaster that is just part of life with a critically ill child. It was simple - I always believed that my children would survive. I had more than hope - I had an unshakable certainty that they were going to make it.

I was able to get up every morning and go to the NICU because in my core I felt like I was watching over and caring for the child that I was going to bring home and raise. The child that would learn to say Mama, play dress up, skin their knees, ride a bike, have tea parties. The child that would roll their eyes, talk back, scream "I hate you!", and stay out past curfew. The child that was part me, part my husband and all themselves.

People think that what my husband and I went through was so difficult but in so many ways it was easy. Unlike my friend's family, we were not watching our child die - we were watching them live.

What about the dog

We got home from Corpus yesterday afternoon - we had a great trip. Jeff got to spend time with his old boys, I got to see some of my old friends, took the kids to the beach, a huge park, Devin saw a hockey game with his Daddy and Uncle Burl (he LOVED it!). But needless to say we were all a little tired when we finally arrived home yesterday.

The kids vegged out on the couch for awhile and then each trooped in to take their baths, put jammies on and collapse into bed. My son was in bed asleep by 6 pm, Hannah lasted until 6:30, and Caitlin (normally the first to go) was asleep by 7. When I tucked them in I noticed their hair smelled different than usual, still fresh and squeaky clean but somehow different. Normally I would have carried this train of thought farther and ascertained why their hair smelled different, however, I was as tired as they were and was just trying to get them tucked in so I could collapse myself.

I found out during my shower this morning why their hair smelled different. All three of my children washed their hair with the dog's shampoo. Apparently not one of them noticed the big ass label with a cute frolicking puppy on it. Apparently the inability to tell the difference between human products and dog products is genetic because when I was about 8 years old, I ate a piece of dog jerky. Which by the way tastes EXACTLY like people jerky.