Real Life

I've been solo parenting for close to a week now as Dadd-O is away for work. Evenings have been pretty uneventful- pick up from daycare/preschool, play outside, eat dinner, playtime, Harrison watches TV while I put Jaxy to bed, I fight with him to brush his teeth and go to sleep... And repeat.

Yesterday, I thought I'd mix it up a little, and decided last minute to stop at the local playground. I wasn't really dressed in playground attire, but I figured, What the heck? Live a little! (yes, this is my life now). As we pulled in to the school parking lot, I realized how busy it was- and I also realized that I had to pee BAD. If you've given birth to a child (or more than one) you know how that can take a toll on your bladder. So when I say I had to pee, I had to pee NOW.

I'll be right back, I said.
I wanna come, screamed Harrison.
No, I'll be right back. I just have to pee.
So do I!

Of course... of course you do. I can't leave screaming children in my car in a school parking lot with 100 witnesses people nearby. I didn't see a porta-potty and I'm not familiar enough with the school to know if it was locked, or even where the bathroom was, and things were getting pretty urgent. I took the boys out of their car seats, held their little hands as we crossed the busy parking lot, and walked carefully into the "woods". (By woods, I mean five feet of trees between the parking lot and some one's backyard.)

Sssshhhh, I said. I'm just going to pee really quick. Luckily I was wearing a skirt, so I squatted down and went to work.

Are you pooping? Harrison yelled.
No! Ssshhh!

And that's when Jaxy squatted down to check out what I was doing right up close.

Bubbles! He exclaimed.
Yes, there are bubbles... from my pee.

Harrison then proceeded with a less than accurate anatomy lesson on how girls pee differently than boys and "baginas" are grosser than penises.

I finished up, drip dried and stood to head out of the "woods". That's when I realized that the back of my skirt was wet. Not just a little wet either, the back of my skirt was soaked in urine.

Shit!
Shit's a bad word, Harrison reminded me.
Yes, it is, sorry.
Can we go play now?
Yes, just a second. I need to get something out of my car.

Thankfully, I'd been driving my gym bag around, unused, for the past two weeks. I reached in and found a pair of yoga pants, slipped them on under my skirt and voila. But wait... I can't wear my dressy work shirt with yoga pants.

Boys, stay right there on the edge of the grass.
Why are you getting in the car?

I stealthily slipped one shirt off and the other one on, while the boys threw rocks onto the grass (apologies to whomever mows). I'm telling myself that no one saw a thing.

Why did you change your shirt? Did you pee on your shirt?
Who wants me to push them on the swing?!?

I can't make this shit up, people.

Like Mother Like Son

It’s amazing how another person can be so much like you. So often I stop and smile because Harrison is such a mini version of me. Not only do we look quite a bit alike, but, for better or worse, he acts like me too!

He has a ridiculously good memory. He still tells me stories about (real) things that happened when he was only two. He can easily recall people he’s met and places that he visited quite a long time ago. I’m kind of the same way; I have some freakishly detailed memories of random childhood moments. And, yes, I just used a semicolon.

He wants things to be fair, ALWAYS. Right now it’s usually about his brother getting more pushes on the swing (because he’s big enough to pump), or making sure no one gets more cookies than him. I remember in sixth grade my parents had to meet with my teacher because I was having a hard time “understanding other children’s differences.” I just wanted everyone to be treated the same, no special treatment for anyone. I’ve become more tolerant, and surely less selfish, with age and I’ve realized that fair does not always mean equal. I hope that H continues to fight for fairness and justice... and not just a bigger piece of pizza.

He’s a bit of a know-it-all. This past winter when we were on vacation to Disney World, Harrison told some boys he had just met on the bus, I’m kind of a ninja expert. And in his mind, he is. Luckily, they were sweet and didn’t laugh right in his face. There are some subjects that he feels so strongly about that he wants to learn every detail, and then he shares them with you, repeatedly. It’s kind of savant-like. “Did you know that the blue ninja used his full potential… blah, blah, blah… and Lord Garmidon is Lloyd’s father and Sensei Wu’s brother… blah, blah, blah.” I can only half listen because it makes my head hurt- but he’s so very passionate about Ninjas and some other cool stuff too. I have no idea where he gets this trait...

Lastly, he's fucking hillarious! He loves to shake his booty, make up silly songs and just have a good time. He brings out the good kind of crazy in me and I love that! There's honestly nothing better than just letting loose and being goofy with your kid as they laugh wildly. I hope those are the memories that he'll cherish forever.

Love you lots my little love bug!

Honesty's the best policy, right?

Let's face it, kids ask A LOT of questions... I mean A LOT! Some are pretty easy to answer, What's for dinner? Others, a little tougher, Why does the moon only come out at night?

"Brudders"

Just the other morning, Harrison and I had this conversation:

H: My balls have these little ball things inside- what are those?
Me: Those are your testicles.
H: What are they for?
Me: When you get older, they'll help you make a baby.
H: I'm not having a baby!
Me: Well, your wife... or girlfriend... if you have one...
Then I got the side eye and we ate breakfast in silence.

Or there was this gem:

H: Let's pretend I'm still in your belly and the doctor comes to cut me out.
Me: The doctor didn't cut you out of my belly.
H: Well, how did I get out?
Me: You came out of my vagina.
H: (Looking terrified), let's just pretend the doctor cut me out.

Although a little uncomfortable at times, I'm completely, 100% confident in my decision to answer Harrison's questions about bodies and sex (when the time comes) with honest, and age appropriate, answers. Since Dadd-O and I have both lost parents, I even feel pretty comfortable talking about death- when someone dies we never get to see them again and it can make us sad. We can still think about them, talk about them and look at pictures to make us feel happier.

With training and experience as a social worker, you'd think any conversation would flow from my mouth with ease... I mean, I've confronted drug addicts, called DCF (child protection) with the family in question with me, provided mediation between angry neighbors, told many people who were without housing, that in fact, I could not help them.

But when questions start being thrown at me about Santa, the Easter Bunny and the motherfucking Tooth Fairy, I freeze... I have no friggin' clue what to say! Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? I don't want to ruin the magic of childhood (or whatever). I'm a terrible liar! So far I've managed to give some short, simple answers it's magic, he has helpers, and sometimes ::gasp:: I don't know. My kid is smart and a bit of a know-it-all (I have no idea where he gets it) and I know eventually he's not going to buy this crap anymore.

Wiser, more experienced parents- how do you handle this???

Florida Vacation Recap

Living in frigid Vermont, the winters just seem to drag on forever, so we're grateful for the chance to get away from the cold if even for just a few days. This year we stayed at Kidani Village at Disney's Animal Kingdom Resort. (Google it, it's pretty amazing!) I highly recommend the resort for many reasons, but here are a few:

The Savannah
From our balcony we were able to see wild African animals (whose names I cannot remember nor pronounce). They would stroll by, stop to eat or rest. It was truly amazing to be so close to nature, and to watch Jaxy "moo-ing" at everything that passed by. From the resort lobby and patio, we could see more familiar giraffes, zebra and ostrich. Harrison especially liked the opportunity to view the animals with night vision goggles.

A Full Kitchen
In additional to the jar of peanut butter we packed in our luggage, we bought a few essential groceries at the in-hotel store (eggs, milk, bread, booze, Doritos...). Prices were a little high, as expected, but not ridiculous for the basics. Our kiddos have pretty poor restaurant-eating skills: someone is always climbing under or over the table, bugging the people behind us (like, literally touching them), sitting on our laps or watching a show on our phones... only to take two bites of the chocolate chip pancake and declare it to be "too sour." We didn't want to put ourselves through this anymore than necessary, so each morning we cooked and ate breakfast in the room before heading out for the day. It saved us a ton of money too (no $8 "sour" pancakes going to waste).

Activities for Kids
Every evening there was a camp fire- complete with marshmallows and roasting sticks! We'd usually stop for a marshmallow (or three) as we left the pool to get changed for dinner. In our childless days, we'd have been heading out after dark for an evening of fancy dinner and drinks, but this vacation was really about the kids, so we made sure to focus on things that were fun for them... and not torture ourselves by keeping them out too late every night. There was also a pool-side Disney movie shown every night on a blow up screen. Sitting outside, in your bathing suit, watching a movie with your family is pretty cool.

Not everything was rainbows and sunshine though. Things that could have been better:

Distance to our Room
Our room was so far from the lobby/entrance. I timed it to be an 8 minute walk! That doesn't sound too bad until you throw in a tired toddler, wet flip-flops, a too-full stroller and a couple of margaritas... and do it four times a day (at least). Next time we'll surely ask for a room closer to the lobby.

The Kiddie Pool
For the entire time we were there, the kids water area was not working. There was not even a sign of anyone trying to fix it. We were bummed, because the pictures online looked pretty fricken awesome! As it turned out, the boys loved the regular pool and we couldn't keep them off the small water slide (even little Jaxy!). We did complain to the front desk, and we reimbursed for 1/2 night's stay.

The Food
Because our kids suck as eating out in restaurants, we were pretty limited to the quick-service dining option. The food was just ok, nothing terrible, but I could easily make something better at home. Salads and chicken pitas got a little old, but according to Harrison the nuggets were really good.

This could be a post in itself, but I give you the abridged version- We did have dinner one night at the African buffet, Boma. There was a wait, so by the time we got a table we were all starving and tired and the whole thing was a bit of a nightmare. The food was pretty amazing! Lots of protein options: grilled salmon, pork shoulder, and beef tenderloin... the best edamame salad I've ever had... and a curry seafood stew that I wish I could eat everyday! That being said, the price-tag was pretty outrageous. Adults were $38 each, and Harrison was $17. Dadd-O and I shoveled food in as fast as we could (we had to get our damn money's worth!) and Harrison ate cantaloupe. Only cantaloupe, for $17! Luckily, Jaxy was free and he got his fill of sweet potatoes, meatballs and macaroni and cheese. I would love the opportunity to go back under different circumstances and really enjoy all that Boma has to offer.

In spite of the few issues (which were mainly OUR issues, not Disney's) I highly recommend Kidani Village. We will surely return to the Animal Kingdom Lodge again, but probably stay at Jambo House where most of the restaurants and the larger pool are located.

Mom Speak

Do you ever say something out loud and then think to yourself, "Who the hell have I become?" Here's some of the stupid mom crap that I find myself saying on the regular, with a nice translation of what I'm actually thinking.

What I say: Calm your body
What I'm thinking: How do you have so much energy at nine o'clock at night?!? Stop thrashing around and lie still!!!

What I say: Listen to my words
What I'm thinking: If I have to say the same thing one more time, I'm going to lose my shit!

What I say: Sit on your bottom
What I'm thinking: Stop standing/climbing on every thing in sight!

What I say: Use your words
What I'm thinking: Stop talking like a fucking baby! (directed to the four year old, not the actual baby)

What I say: I need you to...
What I'm thinking: I want to directly tell him what to do, but all the gentle parenting crap I've read says to use "I" statements

What I say: We don't talk like that
What I'm thinking: HAHA, that was hilarious! I'm totally posting that on Facebook later :)

Livin' the Dream

My husband and I joke with each other, mostly when a shitstorm is brewing around us, that we're Livin' the Dream. Basically, we wonder, "what the hell have we gotten ourselves in to?" If you're a parent, or possibly even if you're not, you have these moments where everything seems so surreal and you can't even fathom that this is what your life has come to. A few examples for you:

• When your three year old goes outside to greet the new realtor wearing nothing but rain boots

• When you turn around to find the baby sitting in the bathroom sink eating toothpaste, when all you did was reach into the closet for a towel

• When your kid yells "frickin' bullshit!" while trick-or-treating

• When the baby NEEDS to nurse at the exact same time that you're doing your (ahem) morning business

• When your out of town guest steps in dog puke as he's trying to pick up food thrown by the baby )who happens to be sitting ON the dinner table)... and your other kid just happens to be naked

Does this shit happen to anyone else? Please say yes, or I may worry that I'm totally failing at this parenting thing.

I Was Meant To Be A Boy Mom

Disclaimer: I'm going to generalize a bit in this post. I know not all girls are frilly pink princesses and not all boys are wrestle maniacs- though this has been my general experience. Our home is pretty old school traditional when it comes to cooking, cleaning, and all that jazz, but that's how I want it, so I feel totally liberated.

I think it's fair to say that most of us were meant to be either girl parents or boy parents. Some of you are lucky enough to have both boys and girls, which means at least one of your kids will hate you someday. I'm totally kidding (kinda).

Here are the reasons that I know I was meant to be a Boy Mom:

I have the mind of a twelve year old boy No joke, I still think farts are hilarious and can't say the word "balls" with a straight face. I should probably grow up and be a better role model, but it's so much fun to laugh and laugh while I moon my boys.

I can't french braid The idea of having to do someone else's hair everyday (I barely do my own) sounds like such a pain in the ass! I remember fighting with my mom over brushing my long, curly hair until she made me cut it in fifth grade and I had triangle hair... Luckily my kiddos sport the "little boy cut" and can go right to the barber with Dadd-O.

Saying penis is so much easier than vagina... or vulva... or labia Seriously, I know I have one of these things, but the idea of talking about it or cleaning one (that's not mine) totally terrifies me! Oddly though, it doesn't bother me one bit to yell, "Get your penis off your brother's leg!"

I really enjoy being the Queen of our castle Being the only girl in the house totally rocks. As these boys get older, I plan to never take out the trash, mow the lawn, shovel snow or lift anything heavy (unless I want to, of course). I do realize that I'll be busy cooking enough food to feed a small army and washing dirty boxer shorts (but at least it'll be quiet and hopefully drama free).

A Cheers to Single Parents

My husband travels for work a lot. It's not every week, but when he's gone it's usually for at least a week at a time, sometimes two! Recently I've noticed a trend in my parenting skills the longer he's gone.

Days 1-5: I can handle this- I maintain our normal routine fairly well. Dinner is eaten at the table, then bath, play time, bed for Jaxy and a snack and a show for Harrison. Mornings go smoothly because I got everything ready the night before (after Jax goes to sleep, but before Harrison does). I'm well rested and prepared each day. I build forts and do art projects with the boys- giving them 100% of our my attention.

Days 6-10: I think I can, I think I can... Things are still running pretty smoothly, but I'm losing my stamina. Dinner is mostly eaten at the table, but we stop for a Happy Meal now and then. Baths are more sporadic (unless someone gets exceptionally dirty). Evening prep work has halted as I lose my commitment to organization. I'm too busy with the big stuff that I let go in last week's honeymoon phase- emptying and loading the dishwasher, catching up on laundry, taking out the fucking garbage! Mornings suck as I scramble to put together lunches and water bottles and extra mittens for preschool. I'm about 15 minutes late to work each morning with a hot cup of gas station coffee in hand (yes, I'm that girl.)

Day 10+: I've lost my ever loving mind! The kids are fed and clean and loved. But the house is a disaster- dishes pile up as I can't find time to cook dinner and empty the dishwasher, I trip over toys at 5am when the dog wants to eat (stupid daylight savings). Dinner happens in front of the TV many nights (judge away), baby wipes provide baths, my own hygiene plummets, and we're all late in the morning and the kids are the last ones to be picked up at daycare/preschool. We're basically a travelling shit show.

At this point, I feel like I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Being late to work is stressful, not bringing a lunch is stressful, forgetting something (anything really) is stressful, leaving your house a wreck is stressful, coming home to a messy house is stressful... and all this stress causes me to yell at my boys way.too.much.

It's not their fault that I just can't keep up with it all, they depend on me to be there for them emotionally and physically. And that's why I let the house go as the weeks go on and try to keep my energy and attention focused on them. But doing this parenting thing alone for even two weeks is draining.

I know I'm lucky. I see a light at the end of this crazy, long and lonely tunnel. My husband and co-parent will be home soon to share in parenting and house work (riiiight) and most importantly to let the fucking dog out at 5am. That's when I take off for a few hours to grocery shop and poop alone (in a public bathroom somewhere).

Single parents- cheers to you! I don't know how you do it.

I Talk to Myself... But Not in a Crazy Way

I’ll admit it! I talk to myself. I’m not the crazy lady you avoid on the sidewalk, I don’t talk out loud, or yell profanities. There was that time that I forgot that I didn’t have the boys with me and narrated my entire trip through the grocery store… “We need apples. One… Two… Three apples. Apples are red.” But that’s not what I’m talking about here.

As a mom, wife, employee, daughter, granddaughter, friend, I always often feel pulled in a million different directions. My mile long to-do list is constantly running through my mind and along with numerous requests from my little guys, and a few from the big guy. Mama Time is sought after in our house, as I'm sure it is in many others. It may a coveted seat on my lap, the spot next to me at dinner, snuggles at bedtime, or simply time together alone (ie, the big guy).

Sometimes, (who am I kidding? pretty much on a daily basis), I get to a point when I’m feeling so overwhelmed with sharing myself that I just want to run away. It's times like these that I turn to the little voice inside that calms me, reassures me that I’m doing ok and that things will get easier. I conjure up memories of my own mother, the most patient, kind and caring mama a girl could ever have asked for. I call this my Mama Voice.

Before you think I've gone totally nuts, let me give you a couple of examples:

Example #1: We're in the middle of the morning scramble. One kid's running around naked, eating an apple and the other one (also naked) is crying because the pants I've given him to put on are too cold. Too cold? I want to scream! WTF does that even mean? Enter the Mama Voice, "You are his favorite person in the whole wide world. You will soon be dropping him off at preschool, do not ruin his day by yelling... especially about cold pants!" So I rub the hell out of the fucking cold pants to warm them to an acceptable temperature.

Example #2: It’s 8:00pm, dinner is over, the kitchen is picked up, the baby is (hopefully) sleeping. There’s laundry to be folded, Facebook to be checked, toys to pick up, Candy Crush to be played, wine to be drank (drunk?)… you get the picture. There’s a lot of stuff I could/should be doing with this “down time.” Then comes the sweet little voice of my three year old, “Will you snuggle me on the couch and watch a show?” I want to decline, I have so much to do and I need some time to myself. BUT my Mama Voice pipes up, “He loves you. He missed you today. He wants to spend time with you. The rest can wait.” And so, I snuggle my boy on the couch... and maybe play some Candy Crush.

Don't let me fool you, there are times when the Mama Voice doesn’t win out. I give that bitch the finger and find solace in laughs with a great friend over nachos and margaritas!

More Than A Number

Every major milestone in my life has a number attached to the memory.

Freshman Year Prom- 148
High School Graduation- 168
College Graduation- 195
January 4, 2005 (the day I started Weight Watchers)- 196
My Wedding Day- 136
The day I found out I was pregnant with H- 155
The day I gave birth to H- 188
The day I found out I was pregnant with J- 161
The day I gave birth to J- 198
The day I started the 24 day challenge- 174
Day 11- 169.6
This morning- 170.2

I know that I'm more than a number, that my worth is not defined by the number on the scale. But these numbers burned so deeply into my memories that I can't seem to forget.

Struggles

Sunday was hard. I mean really hard. I was tired, I was cranky and I was emotional... and nothing felt like it was going right. I wanted to eat so bad. It wasn't that I was hungry (you've seen what I eat on a daily basis), but that's how I've dealt with hard days for as long as I can remember. When I'm stressed, I eat. When I'm sad, I eat. When I'm bored, I eat... You get the picture.

I don't expect everyone to understand what I'm talking about here, but seperating my emotions from food has been the hardest part of this journey so far. Sure, I miss eating some of my favorite foods (mmmm....nachos), but it's more than that. I miss the instant relief that I get when I eat for comfort. I miss the experience and ritual connected to eating. I miss the social connection of eating with friends and family.

I was excited to begin this life change, but now that the newness is wearing off I feel a little really lost. I imagine this is what it feels like when someone who is addicted to drugs makes the decision to become clean. I know that I need to find healthy ways to relieve stress, to comfort myself and to connect with those that I love. I need to discover new activites to do with my family that don't involve stopping for ice cream or a Happy Meal (don't judge). Most importantly, I know that I need to be kind to myself and to be patient- this will all take time.

Please share, what do you do to take care of yourself?

Check In

Since I have a few days of eating differently under my belt I wanted to check in about how things are going. (I'm a social worker, so the term check in gets used on the regular).

What I'm Eating
For the first three days of the challenge I basically ate the same exact thing. Partially, I was anxious about making this change and sticking to a plan, but I also did a bunch of food prep on Sunday, so this is what I had readily available. I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the plan, and have mixed things up a bit, but generally here's what I eat on an average day.

Breakfast

8 egg whites (yes 8!)

1/2 cup black beans

1/2 cup diced peppers and onions

Morning Snack

1/4 cup almonds

1 nectarine

Lunch

1-2 cups mixed greens with cucumbers and red peppers

4 oz salmon

1/2 cup chick peas

Lemon juice or balsamic vinegar for dressing

 

Afternoon Snack

2 tbs natural peanut butter

1 apple

Dinner

4-5 oz turkey breast

1/2 cup brown rice

1 cup roasted broccoli

Evening Snack

Smoothie- 1 cup frozen fruit combined with 1/2 cup almond milk

As you can see, I'm eating frequently and taking in plenty of food! I plugged this average day into My Fitness Pal and I'm meeting all of my daily nutritional needs and still staying around 1600 calories (I'm still nursing, so I can't restrict too much). Previously, I was eating over closer to 2000 calories, but the volume of food was much lower and I was not getting nearly the nutrients I needed.

What I Miss
I'm not going to pretend this change has been all unicorns farts and rainbows. During the week, I'm often driving from one meeting to another, and I'd gotten into the habit of stopping for a cup of coffee or soda almost daily. I think it's the ritual more than the actual beverages that I miss, but it's been tough not to stop. To keep myself on track, I'm trying to focus on the amount of money I'm saving (about $10 per week, if not more). Dear Husband, please skip this next part- I'm looking forward to the fun things I'll be able to buy with the money I'm saving. Smaller clothes hopefully!

What I'm Learning
Real food tastes good.
Eating healthy takes practice and planning.
I feel better (physically and emotionally) when I eat healthy foods.
I have a strong emotional attachment to food.

Taking the Challenge

I've been feeling pretty unhealthy for awhile now. It seems like every Monday I make the same promise to myself- to do better, to eat good and I would... for a couple of days. Then I'd make a poor food choice, get a major case of the fuck-its and stop paying attention to what I put into my mouth. A bagel here, McDonald's there, two bottles of hard cider after dinner- you get the picture. I wasn't just off the wagon, I was dragging behind it by my feet.

Before my wedding, I was really in a groove- I lost 56 pounds by doing Weight Watchers. I was able to easilly maintain my weight between 140 and 150 pounds. But then life happened: I got married, I lost my mother, I carried two beautiful sons, I canceled my gym membership, and I used all sorts of excuses to feed my feelings and pack on the pounds. This time around, I've tried counting colories and points, using apps and food journals, but I just haven't been able to get to that mental place that I need to be in to eat healthy foods and more importantly, to stick with it. Oddly, I'm not even that unhappy with my weight (I'm still about 25 pounds less than my highest college weight of 197) but I'm feeling ridiculously tired all.the.time and uncomfortable in most of my clothes (and my skin for that matter!). I'm at the point where I'm ready to feel healthier.

I wanted a hobby, so I'm creating one- taking care of ME. Today I started the Advocare 24 Day Challenge. I vow to be brutally honest as I document my experience over the next 24 days. While there are supplements involved, the challenge is really about eating real foods for the purpose of fueling your body. This is meant to be a new way of life, not a fad diet.

Starting Stats:

Weight- 174 pounds
Chest- 41.5 inches
Waist- 34.5 inches
Hips- 45.75 inches
Thigh- 24 inches
Pants Size- 14

All in the name of accountability, folks!

WISH ME LUCK!

First Day of Preschool

We've been preparing for this day for months, talking often about how much fun preschool is going to be. Aside from waking up to a flat tire and wrestling with a freaking car seat, drop off went so much better than anticipated. I could not be prouder!