Somebody Has To Do It

"If it is to be it's up to me." - William Johnson

Tonight I worked hard to fulfill My Beloveds fantasies, I helped him with yard work. While I was trudging back and forth across the yard with heavy shovelfuls of dirt to fill holes in various parts of the lawn, I began thinking of that quote. I am sure, when I originally heard it I thought it was brilliant and so inspirational (I must have been in high school). Now I realize it as the bittersweet truth that comes with motherhood and wifedom. If it is to be, I darn well better do it, or else it probably won't get done.*
The wet load of laundry forgotten in the washing machine on Sunday night, still there because no one is missing the clothing that are currently mildewing. The bag that needs to be packed before we go to the water park tomorrow, fall soccer sign up, booking a rental car for our trip to Maine, how about finding a load of wood chips for the front landscaping? A dump truck load should be fine!
I am not complaining so much as I am in awe over the sheer amount of responsibility I have. I can't just decide not to buy milk, or soap, or dog food. Someone has to run the dishwasher, someone has to get school supplies for the kids. The moment I got married I was agreeing to take care of someone for the rest of my life. The instant I became pregnant with Little Monica I was essentially begging for MORE responsibility, and then again with Norah, and why not a third time with Baby Henry?
Fortunately for me I made a good choice in life partner, My Beloved occasionally remembers to start the dishwasher, and takes full responsibility for the trash, recycling, and most of the lawn maintenance (except for nights like tonight), as well as sharing the parenting of our little posse.
Somedays I want to run away, but most times I love the job security, and most times I am thankful to have My Beloved.
Although I am considering devoting a day a year to "If it is to be, it's up to someone else." That day you will find me at the spa.

*No husband blame intended

Someday

So I am in a great mood today. Let me tell you. It is the height of summer, the weather is grand and I am ready to run. AWAY. Seriously. I've stayed away from blogging when I've been in a bad mood for fear of scaring you all, but today I've just had enough. I am ready to explode. Rather than let My Beloved have it (on his birthday, no less) I've opted to spew my dissatisfaction with the blogosphere.
I know I should be grateful for this stay at home mom gig I've got going, but while I love my kids, patience is not a virtue I possess in great quantities. I attempt to do things that seem fun and motherly, but those things generally end up with one or more children getting an angry look at least, and sternly talked to or arm squeezed at most. Luckily for them, I'm generally against spanking.
I've read the parenting books, I've tried to categorize my children so I can best parent them, to no avail, I've yet to read a book to give me advice on how to respond to a child who is stabbing her brother with the sharp end of a cucumber at the farmer's market (yes, cucumber's have a sharp end). I guess I should be thankful we weren't at a cutlery store! I'm trying people, really I am.
One of my dearest friends, the mother of 5 (with one more on the way) regularly takes her kids out in public to Trader Joe's and the like, and doesn't even break a sweat. I've seen her, she's that smooth.
I just don't get it. I take the kids to Target to buy a birthday cake for their dad, I even spring for frosting in a can, and Baby Henry bites into the box of cake mix so we had to have a super friendly (in a mocking, childless person sort of way) Target person get us a new box as we held up the line for everyone behind us, not to mention he was covered in cake mix. I know I shouldn't care, right? But I do, and I feel tremendous guilt.
Why when I take the kids to the pool do 2/3 of them refuse to swim? Norah marches over to a lawn chair lays out a towel and proceeds to spray sunscreen all over, it's only a matter of time before she realizes it's not sunscreen she wants. Baby Henry is content to sit on my lap in the hot sun, arms wrapped tightly around my neck as though the water might touch him. Meanwhile, my friends children are cannonballing off the sides of the pool, periodically needing their goggles adjusted and leaving their mothers in peace to gossip by the side of the pool. I could be so lucky.
What gives? It's hard to be happy and cheerful when I'm the one that waits all day for My Beloved to come home for some adult conversation and he tells me he can't wait to go to bed, to SLEEP! It's hard not to wonder what I'm doing wrong when other people seem happy and relaxed at the pool and I can barely remember swim diapers, let alone water bottles!
Someday I know the kids will be older and won't need me as much, I will miss my Baby Henry as an accessory, Norah's quirkiness will be part of her signature style and Monica will be my cautious adventurer. Someday My Beloved and I will have all the time in the world to talk and pursue our own interests...but until then, I just needed to bitch a little. Thanks.

At Long Last

If you don't have anything nice to say...take a break from blogging. Alas that's been the reason for my hiatus from blogging. I've been pretty stressed and overwhelmed for the past few months and opted out of offending my readers by turning my blog into a bitch fest. Trust me, you should be thanking me.
That said, I am back and cracking under the pressure to offer some tidbit of something that intrigues you enough to keep reading. So I think I'm going to keep this one short, and it might be lame. You were warned.
Summer vacation is banging down the door, and while I remember it fondly from my younger years, as a mother I am filled with both anticipation and dread. 3 months with my children 24/7. My Beloved and I sat down mid-May and tried to sketch out the summer plans, we didn't want our kids to be over scheduled, and we wanted to spend time enjoying our new home. We also wanted to head East to Maine. After careful planning on our part we penciled in plans for various activities, and times we'd head to WI to see family. One week to go and we've already blown our carefully laid June plans to pieces.
I won't lie to you though, I am nervous about being home with the kids, not because I don't adore them, I do, just separately. As a group I would say it's about 90% arguing, fighting, shouting, nagging, whining, and 10% wonder, joy, smiles, happiness and butterflies. Strangely that 10% is usually worth it.
As I've mentioned before, we are working hard to be debt free so that somewhat limits what the kids and I can do. Unfortunately, Jimmy John cannot make lunch for us everyday, we simply can't afford it. My kids are 8, 5, and 2, so they aren't exactly interested in the same things, we've signed up for a few things but are planning on using our YMCA membership to it's fullest. Outdoor pool here we come.
I am going to try to offer healthy snack choices and we are enforcing some rules and chores. I am going to try not to be resentful of My Beloved when he comes home and wants more family time (at this point I usually want to run out the door.) I am going to try to keep my yelling to a minimum. I am going to play with my kids and stay away from Facebook. If I succeed even halfway at this I will consider our summer a success. If not, well, there's always next summer.

French Onion Soup

With the biggest days of holiday shopping upon us, when all of our weekends are filled with not only shopping but pageants, family celebrations, decorating and all the hoopla that comes with it I find myself coming up short on the holiday spirit. Don't get me wrong, I love the upcoming season, I am married to someone that might just be related to the mighty elf, the man loves Christmas so much.
This year though, I find I am overwhelmed by the disparity between news reports of where the best sales are and the hottest toys and other reports on how poorly the economy is doing, how needy the food shelves are, the overflowing homeless shelters, and tremendous shortages all charities are experiencing. What can I do? How can I help? Are there opportunities out there for me to get involved and find a way that I can share the message of giving and sharing with our children. At 7 years old I know Monica understands that other kids aren't going to have Christmas holiday's like we do. I think Norah, at 4 knows that some kids don't have coats or mittens.
I saw an open invite from an old friend of mine on Facebook the other day, and was so impressed and moved by her efforts I got teary eyed. She is hosting a day for people to get together and make mittens to donate to Catholic Charities. No experience needed! Last year they made over 165 mittens. What an impact! I couldn't help but wonder what impact she is having on her own children in teaching them to share their own gifts. Even more she was using social networking to do good! Hooray!
So I'm going, with my lack of mitten making experience, and I am going to take my daughters, and we are going to try our hands (punny, right?) at mitten making.
Beyond that I am open to suggestions for family-friendly ways to give and share for the next weeks and beyond. I have a feeling that is a sure way to restore my waning Christmas spirit, and keep me off the naughty list.

Papa Murphy's Pizza

I tried something new today. I went to a Mom's Club at our new church. I was nervous, I was apprehensive, I was actually about to chicken out and not go. All these thoughts came rushing through my head...I don't know anyone there. I won't like anyone there. Worse, they won't like me. They will all be these put together women with well-behaved put together kids. I shouldn't go, I have a zit on my chin, I need a haircut, Baby Henry has a runny nose.

Really, all that was going through my head. Then my beloved husband called and said "You're going to that Mom's Club thing right? Or are you going to come up with some reason you can't go?" I began to tell him about the copious amounts of snot running from Henry's nose, people would surely think he was infectious and run from us. Silence. Beloved Husband wasn't buying it, moreover I was realizing I sounded a little lame.

The clock was ticking, we couldn't make it in time...more crazy thoughts...I wouldn't want to walk in late my first day. Not to mention our church is connected to a school, so I probably wouldn't be able to get in and they would think I was a kidnapper or something trying to break into the school, then the police would come, and then Beloved Husband would be called at work because I was arrested for breaking into a school and who would pick up my kids at school?

After all of that, I went. Everyone was really nice and welcoming. The speaker there today was from the Salvation Army and talked about all the amazing works they do in the Twin Cities and the United States. I was impressed and educated all at the same time.

Sure, Baby Henry of the Booger Brigade couldn't hack it in the nursery and had to come and sit with me in the Mom's Club meeting, and he proceeded to be booger-nosed and adorable all at the same time.

I was OK, I made it through. I met some really nice women whose names I couldn't remember if my life depended on it. I think I might go back. Baby Henry needs to build up a tolerance to the nursery. I'll do it for him.

Isn't it funny how when you need it most God sends the exact message you need to hear? Sure I'd appreciate it if he emailed me these messages instead of forcing me to live them real world, but today's message from God was about community and gratitude. There are women, just like me, who probably have crazy, italicized thoughts and they are waiting to meet me and I can't wait to get to know them better, maybe next time they can wear name tags! That was the community lesson.

The greater lesson today was that my worries were about whether or not to go to a Mom's Club, I wasn't thinking about how I was going to come up with food or a place to sleep for my children tonight. I wasn't cold or hungry today. After listening to the speaker from the Salvation Army I realized the blessings I have that so many people don't. I realized that my little drama's are nothing when you step back and look at the big picture. Tonight, I go to bed with a grateful heart, and tomorrow I am going to think a little more about what I can do to help out other mothers who don't have the gifts I so take for granted.

So thank you dear readers, for listening. I'm thankful for you too.

Check this out as well for more Salvation Army info: http://www.kare11.com/news/news_article.aspx?storyid=828229&catid=391&GID=/hntWZrWag1UwZQOWQ1Mcm0T2cLN2J4ZWGf8HpgHpu4%3D

Leftovers

Today is our 9th wedding anniversary. While I have spent a large portion of my day thinking about my hard-working honey and our blissful 9+ years together, I have also been thinking about an important person missing from my life.
I was 11 years old when my Grandma Rita had a heart attack and died. She was just 56 years old and heart disease was known about but certainly not as marketed as well as it is these days. Some days I find myself wishing she would have been able to meet my husband, I know in my heart they would have been kindred spirits. I wonder what parenting advice she would have given me, and I think that she would have helped my mom relax a little more, but truly I don't know.
The Grandma Rita I remember is from a child's perspective. I know she was a woman who raised her kids in the tumultuous times of the 60's and 70's, and she certainly didn't have the marriage I do today. She gave birth to 7 children within 9 or so years and as far as I know she never had a nervous breakdown. She had a huge house to keep clean and didn't have McDonald's or Domino's to deliver dinner, and she didn't have the luxury of a dishwasher to clean up all those dishes.
Despite not having the things that I so take for granted, my memories of her and her sunny disposition are amazing. She let me wear lipstick, she never left the house without a little dab or two, and she always had a pie ready to eat on the table and cookies in an ice cream pail on top of the fridge. She was always ready with a hug, and would let me play beauty salon with her for hours, never complaining, I wonder how many times she realized she had a curler stuck in the back of her hair long after I'd gone home.
So 20 years after my Grandma Rita's too soon death, I am thinking of her, imagining how much she would love my children and my hilarious husband. Wondering if she'd be the kind of Grandma that had a cell phone or email. Wondering what advice she would give me about my children, or if she would make them pajamas with nightcaps for Christmas like the girls on Little House on the Prairie (her favorite TV show, after Cheers). I wonder how different my mom would be, if she hadn't lost her mother so near the age I am now.
After all that wondering, here is what I do know, I know that even 20 years after she last hugged me, I feel her arms around me in every move I make. I know that she would be proud of the woman I am today, her legacy lives on in me, a strong woman with a great sense of humor. I also know I need to take better care of my heart and body so I don't take after her with an early death and that I should try to wear more lipstick.

Baked Chicken

I am a stay-at-home mom. Many of you know that, but in case you didn't I wanted to give you some context for what is to come.
I just fed my son lunch, and laid him down for a nap. Contrary to what many of you think I am not going to go sit on the couch to watch soap operas and eat bon-bons. I have allotted some time on the computer this afternoon to price compare Christmas gifts and hopefully get a jump on that. I am also going to finish the laundry I've been working on all day, clean the kitchen. call about a medical bill that is messed up, then go pick up my middle daughter bring her home and wait for the bus to drop off my older daughter. Then it's on to homework, catechism, make some dinner, serve some dinner, take my middle daughter to dance and on and on and on. Somewhere in here my husband will come home which can be both a help and a hindrance.
What bothers me is the lack of respect I sometimes feel from people that assume this job is easy or even a job that I want. Yes, I said it. I am envious most days when my husband showers, and leaves for work. I miss the days when I worked a full-time job and had the luxury of going to the bathroom without company. I sometimes went shopping on my lunch period, sometimes I even ate lunch.
The choice for me to stay home was a financial one, because when we really did the math and looked at our finances, taking into account taxes, childcare, and commute time I was making about $18 a day and we were arguing all the time about the lack of time, or about who had the more important job and would stay home with the kids if they were sick. It was ridiculous.
We aren't rich, and I certainly do not have the temperament of a preschool teacher, but we do love our kids and knew that something had to change. So now I'm a stay at home mom. I don't dress as nicely as I used too. I wear a lot of the sweatshirts I wore in college (free advertising for St. Mary's University's quality sweatshirts!) We don't eat out very much, and my kids don't have the latest toys or clothes I purchased out of guilt. I am learning lessons of patience every day, my husband is having incredible successes at his job, and while I'm not the best mom, I'm working on it.
Please remember though, while you may have a more recent haircut than I, or you think I need a job for my self-esteem, or that I may be too consumed by my kids and their activities, I chose this, and I would choose it again.
Everybody complains about their job, and everybody wants a raise, but not everybody has their employees in the bathroom with them.

Dinner at My Parents

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the day to day. The dog needs a haircut, the laundry is multiplying by the minute, I think the dryer may have something wrong with the heating element, I think the starter is going on the minivan. Halloween is this weekend and not only do I HATE Halloween, I am feeling nearly crushed by the pressure of costuming 3 children, and for an added challenge we are going to be driving 5 hours to spend it at my in-laws in Green Bay. I loathe long car rides. Thus missing 2 gymnastics practices, which my 7 year old is obsessing about, and my husband casually mentioning that we have to be home by noon to watch the Bears game on Sunday, because God forbid we wouldn't be planted in front of the TV for the entire 4 quarters. I'll tell you my opinion on football another day.

Add to all of this my daughter going to the Hannah Montana concert tomorrow, and that we must monitor her dental hygiene extra closely as she recently had her 4 lower front teeth pulled and we need to make sure she doesn't get dry socket.

Believe it or not I went to college, I have a good (read EXPENSIVE) education. I previously worked in a pretty fast paced environment for a very successful MN company, and that was nothing compared to this workload.

Sometimes the thanklessness is shocking. The lack of recognition is depressing, but overall the rewards are amazing. As I write this I began sneezing and my little H, just 20 months old, playing on the floor next to me said his version of "Bless you, Mommy" and tears filled my eyes. Here I am writing a litany of complaints about the stresses of domesticity and God sends me a message through my little man that I am blessed, and he's absolutely right.

Tonight we are going to a wake, a wake for a man who was just 54, and healthy, but got sick from this horrible illness that is all over the news, H1N1. This illness does not discriminate, and for that we all need to be a little more diligent, both in taking care of ourselves and taking care of each other.

So when you see your family tonight, hug them a little bit harder for a little bit longer, ask them if they are taking care of themselves, get a little more sleep yourself and remember you are blessed.

Bless you.

Broccoli Cheese Soup

Sometimes I think I can hear a little cash register ringing in my head. I think my husband can hear it on occasion as well, which may mean we are both insane.
When I first had kids I thought that babies were expensive. Now I know better. Currently our cheapest child his our little H (only 20 mos.). He eats, he poops, occasionally we bathe him. Beyond diapers, the financial output required to keep him at the standard of living he requires is minimal. I would also venture to say he is the best dressed of all of us (thanks to my mom's neighbor lady's garage sales!) So what am I talking about you ask?
Our oldest daughter is blessed with some serious gymnastics skill, she started gymnastics last spring and has quickly moved up to an elite, pre-competitive team. She is so excited about this I can only smile when I think of the small car payment we are going to begin paying for her to keep up her passion.
She will be making her First Communion this year, is Sunday school free? No way!Plus we have to pay 2 sacrament fees. One for First Communion, and one for First Reconciliation. We're talking in the neighborhood of $200 not including the cute First Communion dress and party in the spring.
Our middle daughter, just like her sister HAS to go to Sunday school, also not free. N also takes dance lessons which is no cheap deal either. Lessons, plus costumes, plus tickets to the recital. Not to mention the time suckage when I spend Monday nights, Tuesday and Thursday nights, Saturday AM's all watching my children doing what they love. Not including the monthly Wednesday's for Family Faith at church.
So why do I do it? Because my mom did it, because my mother-in-law did it. To keep my kids off drugs, off the streets, out of trouble, to help them build confidence.
I may not get a thanks tonight when I spend 2-1/2 hours watching gymnastics practice, or tomorrow when I am filling out the forms for book orders (ka-ching). It may be years before I get so much as acknowledgement from them for the time and $$$ spent, but it's worth it. Today I look at my parents and my in-laws and think about what they gave up or the budgeting they did and the volunteer hours they put in so my husband and I were always ready for our meets, be they track (me) or wrestling and football (R).
It was worth it, we are better people for it, and despite the dollar signs I often see in my husbands eyes, or the new winter coat I may not buy this year (no worries, I have several) so we can afford gymnastics and religion classes, and birthday parties.
So today remember to say thanks to your parents and in-laws and try to have a lighter heart when you have to run back in the house for the water bottle your child forgot. It'll pay off in the end, we hope.

Soup of sorts

Let's be real here for a minute. Any of you parent's reading this have had moments where they wondered "Am I normal?" "Is my kid normal?" "Am I damaging my kid irrepairably?"
While most of the parents and kids I know (myself included) have kids that are well above average and extremely adorable, haven't we all wondered from time to time, if their kid wasn't from another planet?
All joking aside, I talked to a mom this morning who wanted reassurance from me that her kid was normal. She sure came to the wrong gal for that! Some of you may be reading this thinking your kids are perfect and gifted, good for you! The truth is, most of us, I think, want reassurance and comfort from others, young moms, old moms, grand moms that we will get through this. That our kids will be ok and so will we. Especially moms of children with disabilities. Moms who spend so much time hoping their kids will hit "AVERAGE" or "TYPICALLY DEVELOPING" on some chart somewhere.
Now this blog is not just about my days with a disabled child, how fair would that be to my other 2? I am an equal opportunity embarrasser! I do want to use this blog as an opportunity to share my daily struggles, joys and concerns and to shed a little light on what getting by looks like, from my perspective. My main goal of this blog is to be something I would want to read and to be relatable. I can't promise mother of the year insight, good parenting, marriage or sex tips, there will be no weight loss tips, but I can promise honesty, and that I want to hear what you think. If you want to know what I think, let me know, I'll try to write about it.
So to my friend from this morning, thanks, by trying to help you, I helped me. It feels to know good we're in it together.

Meat Circles

Dinner is in the oven, the kitchen is clean, no one is fighting, I have gone through the backpacks, marked new activities on the calendar. Now I just need some energy to propel me through the next 2+ hours until bedtime.

I wrote my first blog post last night and then had a huge panic, I should delete this, I don't want to put myself out there for everyone to read, especially when I have stuff of such little importance to share. Then I decided, to heck with it. This is about me, not you.

Some of you know, some of you don't but we have a child with a disability. I have somehow rationalized in my head that my daughter doesn't really qualify under the disabled umbrella, because she isn't "that disabled." Really, professionals have told me that, school professionals. Granted they maybe said it so they don't have to fund my child who isn't "that disabled." My daughter, N (age 4) is hard of hearing, I still can't make myself categorize her as deaf, like so many of the people do. Her hearing loss is from her birth, which was very traumatic, I may write about it someday when I am either very drunk or deep in a pity party. Although I don't drink so just wait for a pity party day.

So my perfect daughter wears hearing aids. They are very cute, she wears them with style and they help. We do not sign with her, we have her in a special school for deaf and hard of hearing kids, Northern Voices is the name of it. This school has changed our world. Our family is better because this school exists. The primary focus of this school is oral education for hard of hearing/deaf kids. N also has begun attending the school districts offerings too, partly as a way to work with them to get funding for Northern Voices, and partly to help N transition into kindergarten in a world that isn't filled with hearing aids and cochlear implants.

That's all I am going to write for today, except I should explain the title of today's post shouldn't I? I feel like I need some sort of theme for them, so until I come up with a good theme I am just going to title my posts with the dinner menu for that night at our house. Meat Circles are actually turkey kielbasa (you know, ring bologna?) that's what my kids call it, that's what it is.

Everything but the...

So I am starting out this blog journey at a really inopportune time. Literally. R (my husband, father of my children) is trying to read for his Master's work. M (my oldest daughter) is trying to read for her 15 minutes of homework. Meanwhile, children 2 and 3 are running around being VERY loud, even playing drums and cymbals, I kid you not. So I decided to sit down in the midst of it all and start a blog. Really, 5 minutes ago I did that. Now I am blogging. Blogging is a new verb these days, isn't it?
I wasn't prepared for the tough questions I would face when beginning what I thought was a pretty simple thing. Everyone blogs, it's so last year, right? First off I had to come up with a name...what am I going to call this journal written for all when I don't have a subject? Do I need a subject? If I am going to blog I most certainly don't want to limit myself right off the bat.
I thought for a moment maybe I should write about my area of expertise. I hit a problem right off, I don't really have any specific expertise.
So to make a long story short, I thought about what I was doing before I began this mighty blogging journey. Rinsing out the kitchen sink. Guess what's in there? Everything. I am certainly an expert at that. Not everything, rinsing the kitchen sink. So there.