Mondays tend to be my hardest day of the week, and I know many people who can understand this sentiment. Most of these people work Monday-Friday jobs, which can be hard to go back to after a weekend.
Being a stay-at-home mom, I don’t have a paying job to drag myself back to. So why is this day so hard for me?
The simple answer? Because my husband goes back to work.
No, seriously. I’ve come to the conclusion that it messes with my kids. For a while I thought it was something I was doing (like, am I just a terrible mom?!), until I realized that the problems we have are almost ONLY, and ALWAYS, on Mondays.
So what is it that makes Mondays so rough?
The top thing that happens is that my kids refuse to cooperate with naps.
Normally, Amelia will nap around 9 or 9:30 for about an hour (maybe longer). On Mondays, I’m lucky if I can get her to go to sleep around 10. And if she sleeps more than 30 minutes, it’s a miracle.
This lack of a good morning naps makes her CRANKY. Because she’s cranky, I can barely put her down without her screaming like the entire world is ending. And I don’t mean she’s crying because babies cry. I mean SCREAMING to the point where it sounds like she’s gonna lose her voice (because that ‘s what would happen if an adult did that). So I’m constantly trying to keep her somewhat comforted.
(Just so y’all know, teething makes this 1000 times worse)
While I’m in the midst of that, I inevitably forget to make Rin go to the potty. And even if I do remember, she fights me tooth and nail on it, so a 1 minute activity takes at least 5 minutes to complete (all while she and her sister scream bloody murder). So there’s almost always a pee cleanup on Mondays. The rest of the week, using the potty is no big.
At least today, while I was trying to put Amelia down for a nap again, she had her accident in the bathroom when she was trying to get her pants down to use the potty...
And then there’s the fun of keeping Rin in an approved location while I feed her sister.
You see, on the weekends, she has almost free reign of the apartment, even when I’m feeding Amelia, because her daddy is here to keep her out of trouble. Not so during the week.
So I almost always fight with her on Mondays to keep her in her room while her sister eats so that A) Amelia doesn’t get distracted and B) she doesn’t get into something that she isn’t supposed to.
And then, of course, is the breaking of the rules. Because apparently, that girl forgets that this momma enforces the rules since daddy enforces them on the weekends (which gives me a breather).
It doesn’t help that Mondays are hard for me too. Because I, too, get used to Andrew being here over the weekend helping and miss him when he isn’t here. And I always manage to not get enough rest or not get coffee in the morning because I woke up late. I get cranky.
I get a case of the Mondays.
So, again, I’ve come to the conclusion that Mondays are rough because Andrew is at work. They get used to him enforcing the rules, and get used to not having to be cooped up in a room.
And we just plain miss him.
But, this too shall pass. Andrew will be home in the afternoon. The kids will sleep tonight, after hugs and kisses and snuggles. We will have our fun moments that will make me forget about the times I want to pull my hair out.
I just have to remember to breathe through the all the “Mondays” in life.
Hey you guys. I’m not going to lie. I could be doing any number of things right now since both my kiddos are miraculously down for naps at the same time for the first time in......I don’t even remember how long it’s been. I could be unloading the dishwasher, or cleaning out Rin’s nasty bath toys, or even catching a few z’s myself.
But I feel the need to get real.
I have struggled this week. I have felt like a failure of a mother.
I got mad at Amelia because she wouldn’t cooperate with eating or sleeping.
I got stressed out and frustrated that Amelia wouldn’t stop screaming in my face for no reason.
I got annoyed with Rin when she kept playing with things she wasn’t supposed to.
I got angry when she continually refused to answer a simple yes or no question (Do you need to pee?).
I failed to do anything educational with Rin, including reading her books (I’ve got some kind of sinus crud trying to happen and my voice has been in and out since Tuesday).
I let Rin watch WAY too many movies. Which means Amelia watched too.
We didn’t go play outside all week.
I failed to give my child vegetables most of the week.
I actually ended up asking my mother at one point “When do you stop almost constantly feeling like a crappy* mom?” *Edited for the lesser of “cuss words” in the US.
Her answer?
“I don’t know, there are days when I still feel that way”
And she’s been a mother for 32 years, y’all.
It’s moments like these that it is easy to get discouraged. Especially when it’s the kind of week where you think “I’m going to be better this week!” And then come down with the sinus crud and have to stay indoors and quiet. When I want desperately to be an excellent mother and wife and also work on my own faith.
But then I hear words like
“It’ll get easier!”
“Don’t be discouraged.”
“Be free.”
“You’re in a difficult season of life. Little folk need you to do things for them or they die.”
And I remember to take a deep breath and change perspectives. Change what I have control over and let go of what I don’t. And to remember that my children are just that: children. They view the world with excitement, curiousity, and just a little bit of fear. But they know that Mom is right there to run to if they need me. It’s sobering.
So I determined to make the most of the rest of my week.
I cleaned the bathrooms (hallelujah! The kids’ bathroom smelled like pee because hello potty training misses).
I tried my best to read a book to Rin and ended up coughing. But then listened to my wonderful husband read a book to her the past few nights when I wasn’t able and remembered that I’m not in this parenting thing alone.
I let Rin be a child and built a fort with/for her, then hung out in the fort while she pretended to cook me food.
I listened to Rin sing over half the ABC’s by herself and realized she’s retaining more than I realize.
Do I still feel terrible about staying inside all week and failing at the meal planning this week and not spending actual time doing learning or art activities and getting made when my kids don’t do exactly what I want when I want?
Absolutely.
But I am remembering to breathe and let loose my grip on life. To enjoy this time of being a child, but to also put my kids down and/or in their rooms and go take a few minutes of a breather when their needs overwhelm my own.
And now, Rin is awake again and informing that she is hungry (we JUST finished lunch less than an hour and a half ago, people. Growth spurt?), so I suppose I'm done for today. Much love to you all.
I actually started typing this blog yesterday morning. Then my child decided sneak into my bathroom, strip naked, and attempt to take a bath (exhibit A of toddler shenanigans). Twice. By the time I sat back down, the baby started crying. By the time I sat down AGAIN, I was too annoyed to think clearly enough to write, so I gave up.
So I'm sitting here with a (decaf, unfortunately) chai tea latte while both my children are miraculously-ish asleep. And I'm trying again.
Life has been crazy lately. It's a different crazy from the "oh I have so much to do" life. It's the crazy that can only come of being a stay-at-home wife to a teacher and mother to a toddler and an infant.It's the crazy that makes you want to pull your hair out with frustration and anger, do celebration dances over small victories, and cry because you love your kids with your entire being and are afraid you're doing everything wrong.
But let me tell you about those toddler shenanigans.
We already had exhibit A: toddler stripping down naked. Repeatedly. Girl likes her bath time. I'm just gonna lump another story into exhibit A. One day, I put her in her room (y'all, I can't let her roam the apartment while feeding Amelia...too many temptations!), but failed to put the gate up. By the time I got Amelia down for a nap, this happened:
Yes, I edited the picture because yes, she is butt naked in the baby bath. She had snuck into the bathroom, dragged it into her room, stripped completely down. When I walked in, she informed me that she was washing.
Exhibit B has to deal with why I said "miraculously-ish." Apparently, my child woke up sometime between 3:45 and 4:45 this morning. And didn't go back to sleep. I know this because she wasn't out of her room at 3:45. But when Andrew's alarm went off at 4:45, we saw her go back into her room.
I asked her this morning if she came out of her room. "Yes." "Where did you go?" "Mommy and Daddy room." "What were Mommy and Daddy doing?" "Oh. Sleeping."
Yeah. Okay. That's not creepy at all, kiddo.
Exhibit C of toddler shenanigans has to do with the joy of potty training. You guys, my body is on a schedule. I get up, shower, eat breakfast, feed Amelia, drink coffee on the way to drop Andrew off at work, then generally need to really go to the bathroom by the time I get back home. Before I go, I always take Rin to go potty so we don't have any issues.
Well, twice in about as many weeks, she insisted that she didn't need to potty. Screamed, cried, the whole nine yards. Part of the way through my using the bathroom, she started crying because she needed to poop. The first time this happened, she was gated in her room, and ended up pooping in her diaper. The second time, I was a little proud because she got herself on the potty. But then she GOT UP AND WALKED AROUND before I could come wipe her. Sigh.
Since then, this hasn't happened. Hooray! Because we've been potty training....
There is nothing that compares to potty training. It feels like torture. I feel like a broken record of "Do you need to go potty? We should try to go potty." All. Day. Long.
Exhibit D: One day last week, I told Rin we should try to go potty. She went in the bathroom, went in the linen closet, and peed. WHAT?! (Did I mention that sometimes, I want to pull my hair out?)
However! We have now had two and a half days with no potty accidents.
We had a celebration for starting to get potty training on Saturday night. We treated Miss Thang to a movie night. Amelia went down for the night after supper, we brought out Rin's fuzzy blanket and all the pillows in the apartment, laid on the floor, ate popcorn, and watched The Lion King. I even made her a "movie night coupon" that she earns by continuously using the potty. Woot!
Now, one of the downsides to potty training is you have to actually pay attention to bowel movements. I had been concerned with how long she would go without wanting to poop (including holding it in for fear of it hurting), so I finally took her to the doctor. Her colon was completely full, so she's having to do a cleanse. It's really gross. So this family has also upped it's fibrous food intake....
Which means I made some delicious whole-wheat pumpkin muffins (made with honey instead of sugar) that we all liked!!! Anyways...
And finally, exhibit D: the toddler tries to be like Mommy. She tries to help me clean, she "cooks," she takes care of her "babies," and even tries to wear her baby doll like Mommy wears Amelia:
She is a mess! But. Last but not least. She got a hair cut.
Before: a mess that tangled easily and was always in her eyes
After: I can see her eyes again. And I can comb her hair without a bajillion snags in it:
Well, that's all for the toddler shenanigans portion.
Other than that, I've just been taking care of myself, the apartment, and the baby. I finally hung all the pictures in our apartment. And got on a semi-regular cleaning schedule.
Kicked her socks off in her sleep. She takes after me.
I've gotten back onto doing yoga every day. Since I last spoke about my health journey, I fell off the exercise bandwagon. I finally found a regular time of day to squeeze in some yoga time, so yay! Also since then, Andrew and I have both cut down tremendously on our soda intake. Like, we drink less than one a day. And other than headaches, I believe our health has improved already!
I've also been Andrew's support the best I know how.
Being a teacher is crazy, y'all. I'm not going to say anymore than that. But you guys send him happy thoughts whenever you can!
Lastly in news, I turned 27! Woohoo! I totally did an unhealthy thing and ate WAY too much at my birthday dinner. And ate brownies. Thank you all for the birthday wishes! I hope you're all doing well!
Good morning, all! It's just before 5:30 as I start to write this....yes, I know that's crazy early for me, but I slept a solid seven hours, so it's pointless to go back to sleep. I'm so gonna need a nap later.
We're finally starting to get into the swing of things around here. Which means we're starting to have a little more fun. We haven't been to the park lately, but that's partly because the heat index has been ridiculously high (hello, triple digits). So Andrew and I finally decided to blow up the Minnie Mouse ball pit thing a family member bought Rin for Christmas.
Whoever bought that: while this thing is fun, we had to blow it up manually! In other words, we spent thirty minutes both blowing into the different sections of this thing. Why don't these things come with a pump?!
Seriously, though. If she manages to pull one of the plugs out, Andrew and I have both declared we are NOT blowing it back up.
Rin's hair was immediately pure static upon entry of her new toy.
As you can see, she was having a blast. She was giggling as I threw balls in at her. She was asking us to crawl in with her.
Andrew took it upon himself to see if he could crawl in it. Then discovered he could do so AND stick his head out the top and limbs out the side. Rin was laughing like crazy (let's face it...I was too).
And then, as any two year old would do, she tried to do what daddy did. She succeeded in getting her head to poke out the top, but then about collapsed the thing trying to pick it up.
Amelia, of course, has been content to sleep through all the fun. She's been doing well, as far as we can tell. She's starting to get a little more social. There have definitely been some coos and smiles. So far, she's actually a little more pleasant than Rin was at this age....or maybe we're just more experienced at getting babies to calm down now. Either way, I'm glad.
She doesn't sleep as long as Rin did at that age, but she's still getting some decent hours in on most nights. Which means I get some decent hours in at night. I don't wake up paranoid every thirty minutes like I did at first with Rin either.
A well-rested momma = a happier momma.
I'm also getting some decent hours in because I've been (say whaaaaaat) starting a health journey.
Now, I know I could just say I'm starting to get back into shape and eat better.
But that doesn't quite encompass what's happening.
Yes, getting back into shape and eating better are goals of mine. But I feel that calling it a health journey takes some of the perfectionist pressure off. It allows for the days that exercise just ain't gonna happen. Or the days that I slip and drink more caffeine than I should. Or the days that, dang it, I just need to eat some ice cream!
Because I've discovered that I'm one of those people that gets frustrated the moment I slip up. And then I want to give up because I can't stick with a regimen.
With a journey, there comes a sense of acknowledgement that there will be hick-ups and hard times as well as accomplishments and good times.
Take yesterday for example. Tuesday and Wednesday, I did well by doing the 30 day yoga challenge I started. Tuesday, I went for a walk. Yesterday, I did almost nothing. Instead, I spent my yoga time spending time with my husband. And I spent my walking time nursing a baby who was fighting sleep, taking a bath, and passing out myself.
AND THAT'S OKAY.
It's a process. One day, I'll be able to get my exercising in every day. Without injuring myself.
I must keep in mind that my body is still healing from being stretched beyond recognition for months.
That's why I'm starting with just yoga and walking. Walking because I get out of breath doing that at a brisk pace for a long period of time. And yoga to both ease into some strength training again and because it is a practice that allows graciousness to where I am with my body.
Also because it reminds me to breathe through discomfort (and who doesn't need THAT reminder).
I've also started taking it upon myself to learn more about food and how to eat healthily. I'm starting with a book a friend of mine has recommended often, as I've seen how much healthier she is from following the advice from said book.
There's a fair chance I may make some blog posts about what I learn in this book. It's partly for my own memory, but also because I just want you guys to be able to see my health journey as I go.
My health journey is also going to incorporate some spiritual health into it as well, as I'm reading my Bible, thinking about churches to visit, and starting a book my dad recommended called Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud.
My goal in doing all this is essentially a healthier, happier, stronger version of myself.
Breathe in. Breathe out. I've had my first night of eight hours of sleep, and a hot cup of coffee! And I can now tell you all about moving with a toddler and newborn.
Y'all, it's stressful.
Long story short, we drove back and forth between Boone and Gastonia a total of 5 or 6 times. It's between an hour and half and two and a half hours, depending on the traffic when going through Gastonia, Lenoir, Hickory, Blowing Rock, and Boone and if we have to make any potty breaks. For the most part, we were able to make it in the lesser amount of time.
Rin was restless from being in the car so much, so she kept getting into everything. She's also at that age when she really really really wanted to help....but her ability to do so was severely diminished quickly as there were a lot of things she had no business picking up (who knew households had so many large or breakable or poisonous to eat things?!).
Amelia did better, as all she really needs is naps, clean diapers, and boobs.
We have now gotten everything we use on a day-to-day basis unpacked and put away. We're still trying to figure out exactly where to put some things.
We're in the process of reteaching Rin her boundaries and rules, as it didn't translate over from the old apartment to here in her brain.
And we're in the process of figuring out where the heck everything is in this city. None of us has ever lived in a city this large. I constantly feel like a country bumpkin, as I was even a little overwhelmed at the sheer size of even the closest Walmart super center.
The other day, I was baby-wearing Amelia in a wrap while we all walked around a park. I've gotten some odd looks wearing her down here so far, but someone actually asked me at the park if I was from Romania...based solely on my wearing my baby! She apparently has a son who serves in Romania and they wear their babies wrapped on their fronts.
Also, my nerdy self went on an adventure the other day to find my closest public library. Lucky for me, it's the main branch and it's super close! I went ahead and got my library card and then just walked around, letting the feel of a library relax me. (As I said, NERD!)
So, while it's been a little stressful, we're finally starting to get the hang of things! We've got one more trip up to Boone this Wednesday for my 6-week postpartum checkup and to turn in the keys to the old apartment, and then any trips to the mountains will be purely for fun!
Whew. You guys. It's been a busy past....how long since I've written? Big things have happened since then. Like, ya know, having another baby.
Yep, most of you already knew this, but Miss Amelia made her appearance into this world 3 weeks ago today (well, once it hits 11:07 pm, it'll be exactly 3 weeks ago).
That day started out as many of my days had been starting out...with contractions. Again. For the bajillionth time. I went to my 39 week doctor's appointment, and one of my midwives asked if I'd like to induce labor since I had been in labor on and off for so long (and I was already dilated to basically 6 cm and almost fully effaced). So, we went for it. She told me I should be ready to be in the hospital by 4 that afternoon, and sure enough, we packed up our stuff and headed in.
We got there around 5 in the evening. My contractions had gone to about 3 minutes apart a few times, and were looking like they were going to peter off yet again when I had to sit still in the hospital bed for monitoring. It wasn't long after I got up and moving again that they picked back up.
I stayed on a birthing ball for about 3 hours, bouncing and breathing through contractions. The midwife on call checked to see how labor was progressing and I was already at over 9 cm! She asked what I wanted to do for pain management, since things were getting a little more intense.
And y'all, my decidedly non-brilliant self decided I wanted to try using hot water. The midwife warned me that that could speed up labor, but if I was up for it, that was fine. Suuuure I thought. I've made it this far. Surely it can't get too much worse. After all, I'm almost fully dilated.
Enter the puking stage. (Okay, okay, I only puked once. But it was terrible.) I got in the tub, and it helped the pain for the first maybe 3 contractions. Then I started cussing (again, sorry Mom). I vaguely remember wishing Andrew was over by the tub with me, but he was keeping my dad company for a little while, and I didn't know what he could do to help anyways. Mom was awesome and stood up for him when the midwife and nurse made a comment about having "man conversations" or some sort. I don't actually remember what was said, but I remember at least thinking "he doesn't know what to do to help me, and I don't know what to tell him I need."
Anyways, at some point, the pressure moved from feeling like I was going to pee myself to feeling more like I might have to start pushing soon. So out of the tub we got.
I couldn't walk.
I hugged the nurse, buck naked and all, and shuffled to the bed. And in my head, I started singing "Hey, I just met you. And this is crazy. But I'm all naked. Hug my anyways." If you don't know what song this refers to, this video's for you:
Now, the next bit was a blur. What I remember:
My dad left the room, as he was getting rather uncomfortable (can't blame him as I was making all sorts of ungodly sounds).
My mom asked if I wanted her to leave. I didn't.
My husband came over and started helping me by holding my hand (I think I twisted his arm into some awful positions....sorry!) and getting my water and keeping a cool cloth on me.
I was checked multiple times. And it was pissing me off, cause I was in enough pain without someone's hand up in me.
They brought in a birthing bar (which is a bar they attach to the hospital bed to help you while you try a squatting position) and made me squat and try to rock my hips back and forth. Because apparently, I was fully dilated except for the very very end of my cervix, which had just enough left to it that the baby's head was stuck.
I cried that I couldn't do it multiple times.
Andrew and my mom kept replying that I really really could do it.
I desperately wanted an epidural. I had been wanting one, but thought I was too far along to ask, so I hadn't asked. I should've just freakin asked.
Andrew needed to either go get the cloth cool again or go to my other side, and I was suddenly terrified he was going to leave. And I was so relieved when he was by my side again.
They lost the baby's heartbeat. So they had to bring in that probe thing to try to find it.
The baby's heart rate had dropped to 60 beats per minute. I knew that was really really bad.
Then I heard the midwife say we needed to get the doctor in there. And knew things were really bad.
I got to the point that I physically couldn't catch my breath, so they gave me the oxygen mask.
Someone, at some point, told me that just like I was getting tired and starting to not be able to labor well, the baby was also getting tired and not handling things well.
The doctor came in, and I swear, all I remember is they told me I needed to push and my baby needed me to push NOW. The doctor (I think) told me I NEEDED to push for my baby.
Some part of my brain kicked in to tell me to start pushing because I knew that if I didn't, I'd have to have an emergency cesarean in the best case scenario and worst case....well, I didn't even want to think about that.
I had at least 4 people yelling at me to push (and not, like, in a condescending way, but in an encouraging "you have to do this" kind of way). People were holding my legs up, and someone kept saying to push with my abs, not with my legs.
I yelled a lot. And screamed. The nurse to my right kept trying to tell me to use the energy coming from my mouth to push instead. I succeeded in that only part of the time.
I remember not realizing the head had come out until I felt a strange sensation that I somehow knew was the rest of the body coming out.
I remember being scared because I didn't hear crying yet, and a very distinct wave of relief when she started wailing.
And then I remember being mad because no one would hand me my baby yet. The rational part of my brain knew they had to made sure she was okay (I forgot that they to, ya know, make sure I was stable too). But the emotional part of me just kept thinking that someone needed to hand me my baby and let me hold her. They did, but it felt like it took forever.
Afterwards, my husband informed me that I kick like a mule and they had a hard time keeping my legs braced. And that it seemed like they were literally folding me into a pretzel.
The midwife let me know that they had to use a vacuum to assist the delivery. And that I was basically a unicorn. Because not only did I have a vacuum assisted delivery with no pain medication (which virtually never happens), on top of pushing nonstop (it was only for maybe 5 minutes, but I mean nonstop....like they didn't even give me time to catch my breath because it was so urgent)....I also had absolutely no tearing. Which is unheard of in a delivery like that.
Booyah.
Now, I have to admit that part of the reason I'm just now writing this blog is the fact that I'm just now able to recall all of this without feeling like I'm going to have a major panic attack.
Yes, the experience was that terrifying.
Yes, my body is having a hard time recuperating in some ways (ever heard of uterine prolapse? I hadn't until my 2-week postpartum checkup, where I learned that that's what I was experiencing. Look it up or ask me if you really wanna know).
No, I never want to experience un-medicated childbirth ever again.
But y'all. I have a beautiful baby girl to show for it.
Ah, motherhood. It leaves you exhausted and emotionally drained so many days (or is that just toddlers?). Some days, I wonder if it's all worth it. I wonder why the heck I ever thought this was a good idea.
And then I have days like how this morning has been (how appropriate, since it IS Mother's Day).
I actually get a halfway decent night of sleep (hello, 4 hour stretch followed by a 3 hour stretch, with no nightmares).
Andrew makes a simple breakfast for Rin after getting her up and dressed. While I take my time waking up by myself.
I drink a nice hot cup of tea and eat my favorite easy breakfast of my childhood (hello, peanut butter toast).
And I proceed to spend the morning in my pajama's, snuggling with Rin off and on while I play games and just be generally relaxed and a little lazy.
On top of that, Rin is actually cooperating with going to the potty.
Miracles do happen.
And days like these remind me how fun and lovely motherhood can be.
I remember spending lazy Saturday and Sunday mornings with my mom, staying in my pajamas until noon. It may not have happened often, but it did happen.
So here's to you moms out there, working your butts off to do what needs to be done.
Here's to my own mom, who helped mold me into the person I am today. Who did her best to teach me time management. Who taught me how to make the house at least appear clean when company was coming over. Who (thankfully) taught me how to do laundry early on.
My mom, who encouraged me through everything I faced to stay strong. Who reminded me that I could do anything.
My mom, whom I fought with, laughed with, cried on, danced and sang in public with. Who I shared hot fries or popcorn and Cheerwine with on school day afternoons.
My mom, who has become one of the best friends I could ask for. Whose love and concern for me I can feel radiating all the way from South Africa on a daily basis.
I love you and I miss you. And I am so grateful for your love (and for not selling me on whatever the equivalent of eBay was before the internet). Happy Mother's Day.
And Happy Mother's Day to all the other special moms in my life.
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