Can’t Hack It

02.11.13

filed under El PREGO , MAD PARENTING SKILLZ , STUFF THAT MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE , STUFF THAT MAKES ME WILDLY HAPPY , UNCATEGORICALLY RANDOM

I woke up this morning feeling like I couldn’t come out of a stupor.  I mean, I just couldn’t wake up properly.  Henry sort of snuggled/wrestled me and I flopped around just sort of going with it and hanging on to sleep as long as possible.  Sam gave me a hug and when I wrapped my arm round him I felt that he had changed partially into his school clothes — which is a major victory for him to do so without being prompted several times so I gave him some extra pats on his bottom.

I hauled myself out of bed and made breakfast.  I let Henry push down the lever on the toaster.  He pulled out the little guitar we brought home yesterday for the baby’s room.  He played me a really loud song while I padded around the kitchen absentmindedly.  He reminded me that this was HIS toy and that HE was still the baby and I just patted him on the head thinking, “Oh boy, are we gonna have a time of it when this little guy comes.”

I finished making breakfast and went and laid back down in my dark room on my cool bed and texted Craig good morning.  He took my car to the dealership today to deal with the flat tire I got yesterday in Indiana.  He texted me that the car didn’t have a flat tire but that someone had let the air out.  And they think it might be because of my Obama sticker.  And he thinks it may be time to take it off.  To which I replied, “No way.  This aggression will not stand, man.”

I’ve got so much to do today.  I have so much to do every day, frankly.  And  I know that this is pretty much most human beings on earth, but today, I feel particularly burdened by it.  Between being a stay at home mom who does all the shopping and a lot of cleaning and cooking and a hell of a lot of mothering, and a student of the dreaded statistics (which OH. MY. GOD. What a hideous, heinous class) and my job responsibilities which have been hectic and sort of “put out the fire” of late, and upcoming rehearsals for a show I’m re-directing, and the Saturdays I spend judging speech tournaments, and the Sundays spent house hunting, and prepping for baby threepeat, and being nearly eight months pregnant… I just feel pretty taxed.  I feel lucky, but damn it, I feel taxed too.  I am aware that we are all sort of on our own and don’t really understand what the other is going through.  That most people are overwhelmed and feel like they have too many responsibilities and that if someone else stepped into their lives they couldn’t hack it.  And I imagine a lot of us are right.  The truth is, you couldn’t hack it in my life, and I couldn’t hack it in yours.

Anyway, I picked myself up out of bed and took Sam to school.  Henry brought the guitar and continued to play us songs until I begged him to take a break and then Sam and I discussed what the tooth fairy does with all the teeth she collects.  Our hypotheses: She gives them to little babies (ew), she uses them as decorations in her house, she uses them to build her house, or the teeth have magical properties and she uses them for potions.  Then we discussed where she lives (either Asia, South America, the North Pole or on an undiscovered island somewhere.)  He got out of the car and disappeared into his unknown day and Henry and I came home.

I put on Cars for him and he snuggled up in my lap saying “I’m your baby, mama! (oh boy) and I told him “you sure are.  No matter how big you get, you’ll always be my baby and I’ll hold you and rock you as much as you like.” And then he kissed my belly and said “hi little brother” and then I wish I could tell you that I cried or something but what really happened is he hopped up and got his cars to play with and I went in the kitchen and made peanut butter toast and, quite frankly, I postponed about 1/2 of the things on my to-do list leaving me a good solid manageable list of things to do today plus a big pile of guilt.

Onwards we go.  I hope you are having a good day.  I hope you are not overwhelmed by your tasks (even if they are good tasks) or by something much more ominous and scary and meaningful than an interminable uncompleteable task list.   Hugs and kisses and snuggles to all the little babies who’ve grown up. I hope someone reminds you today that they couldn’t hack it being you.  Because they couldn’t.

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Update on My Triumvirate

10.11.12

filed under CRAIG SAVES THE DAY , MAD PARENTING SKILLZ , PAGING NURSE GENEVIEVE , PEOPLE I ALMOST PUNCHED IN THE FACE

What the heck, internet?  Where the heck have you been?  You just like dropped off the face of the planet.  So uncool.  I thought we meant something to each other.

So, my life has sort of divided into this triumvirate of responsibilities and I am finding it challenging to keep up with them all. I think this is sort of a description of how every adult with small kids feels.  Overwhelmed.  Responsibility-laden.  Challenged.

I’m also happy.  I don’t know that every adult with small kids feels that way.  But I do.  Thank God.

So, here is an update on my triumvirate.

1. School

I am taking one class, people.  ONE class.  But my one class is chemistry and that shit is hard. I am doing well in the class.  At least I think I am.  But it is not without some major struggles and some intense studying.  I think I am going to get a B in it.  Which, truth be told, is actually sort of disappointing to me.  I am not a B student, generally speaking.  But I think I am maybe a B chemistry student.  My only hope for an A is that the professor is going to grade on a curve.  And while I find the whole subject confusing and difficult, I will admit that I seem to be one of the more advanced students in the class.  There are many among me who seem to have NO IDEA what is going on.  But I can’t really hope for them to boost my score, because that is not the way I roll.  And anyway, I will know what my true grade is before the curve, so.

Watch.  Now I’ll get a C and I’ll never be able to face you again.

I cannot handle C’s.

I had a meeting with an advisor at my college of choice  for official nursing school recently.  She was extremely discouraging.  I think that is just her general way of being.  Her whole vibe was “this is really hard to do and I am getting the feeling that you probably won’t be able to do it.”  Which both enraged and saddened me.   More enraged though.  I left fighting back tears and when I talked to Craig I told him, “I’m just so mad because now I have to get accepted there and now I have to be the best student that she has ever met in her whole life just so I can prove her awrong” and that is just so much pressure.

2. Work

I work for an awesome organization that I care about very much and I probably shouldn’t go into too many details.

But I will say that the complexity of the email system takes up way more of my work time there than is really decent.  But, as is my usual MO, I have come up with several rigorous strategies to better organize  and keep track of the massive amounts of email that I receive.

3. Family

My family continues to be awesome/needy.

My children are still small and they argue over things like the differences between dumptrucks and cement mixers (a real argument from this morning that had both children screaming viciously at one another on the car ride to school.)  And they still get their fingers stuck in CD holes and burst into screaming hysterics shouting GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF at 6:45 am and then don’t even thank me when I calmly grease their fingers down with lotion and remove the cd. They still demand waflles and sausage and syrup every morning of their lives.  They always ask for syrup.  I have NEVER left the syrup off, but they always mention it as if they just know I’m about to fuck it all up.

My kids are characters.  Everyone thinks their kids are characters.  The thing is, mine really are.  They are cool.  I really like being a mom.  But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a lot of work.

Craig is awesome.  He’s really not any work.  I mean, not in the same way that my kids and school and job are work.  I like to think that I work at making my marriage good, but it’s not the same.  Thank God.  We are celebrating our eighth anniversary in just a few days and I am feeling particularly tender towards him at the moment.  I have a desire to get all wispy and teary on you now and describe all of Craig’s finer qualities.

This post has derailed.  It started out so specific and has ended so broad.  Plus the saccharin level has just ramped up with each passing paragraph.  Anywho.  I’m glad you’re not dead, internet.  I was starting to get worried.

 

 

 

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Massage Party

04.24.12

filed under MAD PARENTING SKILLZ , Mom with an M

Last night I was coming home from some auditions I was having and there was this big scary sign spray painted on a big sheet of rotting plywood that said MASSAGES and it had an arrow pointing to a dark alley.

I wonder what kind of massage I could get in that alley?

In other news, I don’t know how it happens, but without fail I book myself solid every birthday season.  Birthday season lasts from May to August, with an intense peak from late May to mid June.  Every year, I swear that I won’t be busy next birthday season, but will properly obsess over which balloons to get and buying appropriate birthday outfits weeks in advance like proper mothers.

And every year, I end up throwing these birthday parties with my children in clothes that are three sizes too small and buying one strand of crepe paper which I haphazardly toss around while my mother tells me I am so tired that I look like I have two black eyes and why didn’t I just buy a store bought cake like a normal person to which I shout GUILT, MOTHER!  IT IS BECAUSE OF MY MOTHERLY GUILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLT!!  THIS CAKE IS THE ONLY REAL EFFORT I HAVE MADE!!!

But this year, despite having like two free hours between now and peak birthday season, I am sure I will be very prepared and my children will be dressed in something darling and affordable from Gymboree and I will turn the yard into a whimiscal fantasy land and I will look stunning and not at all like I haven’t slept in ten years.  I can just feel it. 

I know! Maybe I can get the back alley masseuse to come to the party and give free “massages” to the party goers.

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