Who knew that hosting a small princess birthday party for seven little girls, my two included, could be such an exhausting task? Oh you knew that? Okay, well maybe I should have too, but goodness when those little ladies headed out yesterday I wanted to pass out. My girls were of course way too wound up on cake and the excitement of the party and did not go down for naps until close to 3 p.m. Not cool. Luckily I allowed myself to basically pass out as soon as they were both contained in their room. (did I mention that was after I started crying and telling BQ “I’m just so tired?” classic). At any rate, I think it was really fun for the girls and we ended up having a very relaxing night at home.
It could have been the simple stress of planning a party, or doing it with The Doc out of town, but for whatever reason I was really drained yesterday. It has only been 48 hours since my man left and I am already missing him far more than is comfortable. 22 more days to go, people, so I need to get it together. All in all I have come to the conclusion that I am so grateful to have someone to miss. I am completely capable of doing life on my own and of taking care of these girls by myself, but I would much rather do it with that hunk of man beside me. How blessed am I? Marriage can be hard and full of ups and downs, but man am I glad I am doing it with The Doc. At the end of the day he is my little piece of heaven on earth and when he’s gone I am acutely aware of his absence. Thank God. What would that say if I weren’t? I want a marriage that is passionate, engaged, and marked by a deep friendship and I have to think if I didn’t have that, then this distance wouldn’t sting quite so much. So I’m going to embrace “the burn,” and yes cry frequently and be dang grateful that I have such a guy. That I am somebody’s Mrs. and get to wear his name and care for his children. I am proud of who I am as Amy and am by no means defined by this role of being a wife, because it is just one of many that I play, but I am delighted that at the end of the day I have a partner in life. This guy chose to make a go of it with me and for that I am forever grateful. I know it isn’t easy, and some of you might be really struggling in your marriage right now, but hang in there. Just as I am not enjoying this distance, I am grateful for all that I am learning about how much I love my husband through it all and I pray that you will be blessed with something that will teach you and your spouse the same. Hang in there, friends.
To give and receive love in marriage…I can’t think of anything I treasure more.
If you come to my blog on a regular basis you have probably noticed that lately I have been changing the look pretty often. Let’s just say I am totally unsatisfied with the layout. Alas, this blog is not about looking pretty, but still, I don’t want it to be an eyesore. So hang in there with me as I attempt to find something I can stomach. 
BTW, The Doc left for Uganda yesterday so I should apologize upfront for what I’m sure will be some additional lamenting, complaining and whining about missing my man. What can I say? But today is not a day for missing my man, I’ve got a princess party to pull off for two cute little ladies. Here’s hoping I can channel my inner “Martha” and make this the princess party ever.
The last 48 hours with Molé have been frustrating. She decided that she no longer wanted to poop on the potty and therefore went twice on the floor and three times in her pull up at night time. Not cool. Not cool at all. Plus, why oh why do it on days when she was pooping so much! Last night I put her down, as usual, and braced myself for another poop incident. Let me back track a minute. Last week this little one realized that if she calls out “potty” from her crib, Mommy will immediately come into her room and pluck her from said crib resulting in a few more moments of freedom before having to go to sleep. Two nights in a row she got me. I ran into the room, unzipped the footed jammies, tossed her onto the potty and…nothing. That’s right, she looked up at me with a sheepish grin and didn’t go even a drop. Well, after her totally working me two nights in a row, I decided that I wasn’t going to be fooled again. Unfortunately for me, that led to three nights in a row, yes 3, of her pooping in her pull up after me ignoring the “potty” cries for 20 minutes. Awesome.
Anyway, last night was the third time, but a bit different. Let’s just say the contents were, ahem, abnormal. I took care of that nasty load and put her back to bed. At around 11 as I was headed to bed (dang NBC decided to start Biggest Loser at 9pm instead of 8pm) I heard some coughing. Then more followed by crying. After going in and out for a half hour I decided it was time for some drugs. My head hit the pillow around 12:30 only to hear more coughing. The coughing continued until 4:30 when it once again turned into crying. This time, I went in to find a very hot and uncomfortable baby who was dry heaving. After some snuggles and more meds I put her back to bed and tried to get a little more sleep myself. Alas, the coughing continued. This morning she isn’t as fussy as I had expected but is wheezing which means inhaler fun. (which is actually the opposite of fun). All of this is to say that it never fails on the days when my kids do things like poop their pants, throw extra tantrums, or seem altogether out of sorts that within 24 hours I find out why in the form of an illness. You would think this would help me to have a bit more patience, but it doesn’t. No wonder she was off in the potty department and gave me all kinds of attitude about it. She probably felt like crap and rather than giving her comfort I gave time-outs. The truth is, we were both a bit off.
As I watch that Mother of the Year Award slip ever so slightly farther away I’m at peace knowing that she will consume copious amounts of juice today, be allowed extra snuggles with Mr. Bear who is usually confined only to the bed, and get all the snuggles and loving she wants. And, that she will once again poop on the potty. I’m going to try and avoid a shoulder full of snot while I soak up these precious moments to hold my sweet baby. Time is too short and I want to breathe deeply of my dear little one.
I don’t know what was in the water Sunday, but The Doc and I went on an organizing/sorting/cleaning frenzy that began in the basement and ended with lot and lots of piles around the house. Luckily these piles have their own destination and I am hoping that they will find their ways to their new homes soon. Can you say five empty rubbermaid-esque storage bins? Um yes.
Sunday night after the girls were in bed and The Doc was at work, I decided to tackle some projects in our room. I basically unearthed an under-bed storage container that held about ten old journals from ‘95 to ‘03ish, plus or minus some months and years. As I flipped through the pages I will admit feeling, well, bored. There really wasn’t much dirt, no ramblings of a teenager in love or going off the deep end. You know, the feelings you thought you had in those days. Maybe I wasn’t as nuts as I had previously thought. Or maybe I was just smart enough not to record my insanity. Regardless, those were some lame journals and I send them straight to the recycle box. So hey if you’re in the area and you want to know what my friends and I did junior year on a Saturday night, feel free to dig around and find a detailed account of us meeting up at so and so’s house, then going to such and such a restaurant/Denny’s/The Village Inn, and it being “rad.”
After the journal excavation, I decided to sort through my jewelry. If you know me at all, you know that I am not one who dons a great number of baubles on a regular basis. When I wore earrings yesterday, inspired by my discoveries, BQ was so puzzled and asked, “So, do you really have holes in your ears?” But, I have been given so many beautiful things over the years and it was cool to find them again. One of the best parts was pulling out my jewelry box. I’m not the first owner of this box, as it was my moms and possibly my grandmas, but I’m not sure. Regardless, when you open it there is no “new box” scent. Instead you’re greeted with a musty scent. What’s great is that it doesn’t leave you reaching for the febreeze, but wanting to go in for a better look and a deeper breath. It’s a scent that is sure to hold a very good story.
As I sorted through the first clothes that my girls wore after entering this world, a gold bracelet with my maiden name engraved on it from my 16th birthday, and file folders full of ten year old documents I was struck by just how much stuff I’ve accumulated. I know I’ve talked about stuff before, but this time around it was different. I realized that it isn’t necessarily the stuff itself, but where the stuff can lead us that we desire. The reason I don’t throw out my jewelry box and purchase a new one is because I want to experience that jewelry box scent when I open it. To feel like a little girl wandering into my mom’s room asking her to show me her rings again. Just like I couldn’t part with my grandma’s 40 year old passport, which now resides in the bottom of the jewelry box. And that sweet little outfit that we brought our girls home from the hospital in was also the one that my parents brought me home in thirty years ago. How could I toss that in a pile of random clothes that my girls have outgrown?
These “musts” of my life are my monuments, my sacred items, and my history. In the end, it isn’t the stuff itself, but what that stuff allows my heart to feel and my senses to experience. When I put on my Nana’s watch with its turquoise/silvery goodness I can see just a little bit more clearly the outline of her face and her hands in my mind. I live with things that are musty, because they are too precious to forget. I’m learning what it means to get rid of the “stuff” while holding onto the treasures. Not because they themselves are valuable or necessary, but because events and people of my past are too important to leave behind. So please come over, and smell my jewelry box. I’ll even show you my high school ring.
Since I often get stuck in a rut with my diet, I thought I’d share some of the things we are digging these days. Maybe you’re sick of them, maybe you also think they rock, or maybe you’re wondering if I have in fact been shopping at a store on Mars. Regardless, here are they are in no particular order. And apologies for those of you who do not have Trader Joe’s as there are a number of references. Unfortunately it really is that great and I hope that one decides to show up in your neighborhood soon.
Panda Puffs cereal
Trader Joe’s big tubs of yogurt (cheap, organic and yummy flavors)
Cauliflower
Quakes (you know those tasty, crunchy mini rice cakes. cheese flavored rock).
Dried cranberries
Pudding
Stir fry with tofu (do it)
Throw whatever I have in the house into a pot and call it soup, soup
Top Ramen with egg, frozen peas, edamame, corn or whatever you fancy
Eggs in general, but especially with a bunk of junk in them
Flax seed in random stuff
Lattes (like there wouldn’t be a reference to coffee)
Cheese sticks
Clementines
Freeze dried mango from Trader Joe’s
Spring rolls (but NOT the ones that I accidentally buy which have been sitting on the shelf for days, evidently)
Trader Joe’s whole grain tortillas with flax and rolled outs
Salad
Panera’s new vegetable soup with the pesto on top (I know it’s hard to think of doing anything other than broccoli cheddar, but you will NOT regret it) and their mediterranean veggie sandwich.
Guacamole
An evening cup of hot chocolate
So there you have it. Have anything you’re loving these days? Tell me about it, because I’ll probably be sick of all this stuff by tomorrow and need a change.
Oh goodness, I am in one heck of a mood today. Seriously, even I am finding myself quite unpleasant. Just when I think I have it under control, a child decides to disobey, or I read something that annoys me and it’s over again. The loss of control always catches me by surprise as does my temper. I did not grow up in a house where there was yelling nor did The Doc, but sometimes I fear that my girls will. No I don’t yell often, and definitely not on a daily basis, but I do. There are moments when I feel my blood start to boil and I lose it. And, the things I yell have got to be some of the lamest of all. Things like “Stop it stop it stop it,” while shaking my hands. How do the girls not completely bust out laughing? Seriously! The goal of my yelling is obviously to get them to listen better, or do what I am requesting, but it never works. Let me say that again, NEVER. If BQ is upset and I yell, it only gets us both more worked up. And Molé? Well, it just makes her lower lip quiver and her eyes fill with tears. Yah, mother of the year moments, ehh.
The guilt from these moments where, let’s be honest, I basically throw my own tantrum is huge. At times it’s overwhelming and I am horrified by my own inability to behave. I have to remind myself that they are allowed to act like two year olds and I am not. Pity parties are of no help nor is spending an hour sitting on the couch with the computer while staring at a messy and disorganized home. Maybe I should take this frustration out on the bathtub, because goodness me it might really benefit. What I want to do is run to the kitchen and grab anything with a fat content of at least 16g per serving and feast. Unfortunately, that doesn’t ever seem to change my mood either.
These are the times when I realize that one of the most unexpected challenges of being a mom is that through parenting I learn things about myself that aren’t glamorous. Many of the things that I am most ashamed of, my most profound weaknesses, are thrown in my face on a daily basis. It is draining. There is no doubt in my mind that God uses motherhood to reshape, refine, and renew us into women who look a heck of a lot more like the people He designed us to be. We cannot escape the truth of who we have allowed ourselves to become. It is out in the open, laid bare, and it’s ugly. I think that is why I get so upset, so frustrated, and so full of guilt. The only way I can respond is to become more teachable and to allow myself to learn lessons that are hard and painful and to come through it all changed. I don’t want to say, “well, this is just who I am, and they were really being awful.” I don’t want to teach my girls that when we feel frustrated or angry our first response should be to scream. Not good life skills. And so I find myself in this battle between the Amy that’s in me and the Amy that I want so much to be. There are days when I feel like maybe the old me is really gone and I might do a little victory dance. Then there are days like today when it all crashes down. Does PMS play a role? Well yes, yes it does. But I am not going to start giving myself excuses for bad behavior. I don’t want to settle, I want to change and grow. And even though it is really, really hard, it’s worth the fight.
Either a Sienna or a Suburban. Interesting. What about you Odyssey, Pilot or other SUV folks? Wanna get in on this action? I’d love to hear it. (that’s a hint. a shameless, really big hint).
Ok, maybe not your actual car, but your type of car. We have been so blessed to live with one car for almost 9 years of marriage. I am actually dreading the inevitable acquisition of a second automobile. Unfortunately since The Doc will have to work at 6 different hospitals after the move, there is no way to position ourselves close to public transport that will enable him to get everywhere. And so, we embark upon this task of figuring out what in the heck car to buy. We currently have a fabulous 4 door Honda Civic and love it. It’s almost 13 years old, but is perfect and still has under 100,000 miles. Obviously we could just get another Civic, but we would like to get something that can fit three carseats across the back and possibly additional passengers. No, that is not some sneaky way of saying that I’m pregnant, but who knows what the future will hold. Regardless, we don’t want to buy a car that we could potentially grow out of in a couple of years. Make sense?
I dread the minivan but know it might be good, am intrigued by the wagon, and have pondered the concept of mid size SUV’s with third row seating. But, that’s all on paper and I want to hear from those of you who actually drive these cars on a daily basis. If you love your car, I want to hear why. If you hate your car, that is helpful too. Any advice, opinions and the like would be oh so helpful. So please, drop me a comment and sell me your car!
And so I was. Or we were that is. Picture this if you will. It’s Saturday night and I’m home alone with little girls that were in bed by 7, nothing on t.v and a laptop sitting beside me. I know that starting Sunday night The Doc will have 3 nights off and I can hardly contain myself. Then I get a crazy idea that starts with a “what if” and ends with me booking a hotel in Midtown Manhattan. In a 12 hour period we went from no plans to packing up the girls and driving to NYC. Awesome. I sit here blogging on my phone from said hotel room. In an hour we will head to Central Park. All I can say is that it has been more than worth it. Who knew? When I’m not typing on a screen the size of my big toe I’ll share more of our adventures. Until then I’m gonna go explore!!
I know that many of us are sitting here wondering how we can help out the people in Haiti. Here are a few of the ideas that I have seen passed around on Facebook and Twitter. Feel free to leave more ideas in the comments section and I will add them to the post.
2. Sponsor a child through Hope for the Children of Haiti or simply donate toward their work.
3. Donate to the work of Haitian Christian Outreach as they rebuild and strive to continue serving and loving the Haitian people.
4. Send a text!! Doesn’t get much easier than texting the word Yele to 501501 to donate $5 to Wyclef Jean’s organization Yéle Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund. (the donation cost will be charged to your phone bill)
5. More texting! Text the word Haiti to 90999 to donate $10 to the Red Cross. (again the charge will show up on your phone bill)
6. Donate to the Red Cross through American Airlines and earn miles. (not that you really need the incentive, but it’s still cool).
There are hundreds more and I would post them all if I could, but I hear screaming coming from the other room!
