Mama Needs a Break

All weekend I was ready to lock myself in the bathroom and just marinate in a bubble bath with a long book until after bedtime has passed.  Have you ever had one of those weeks when everything hits you at once?  This is that time for me.  The week before last just set the stage for the crappy week that was this week with the seemingly never ending sickness with my two youngest.  Nothing like having to play nurse for two outbreak monkeys with a chest cold that don't have the social graces not to cough directly in your face.  I'm shocked I didn't come down with a worse cold than I did. It must be the minor immunity I acquired from having been through this unhygienic stage with my oldest two.

Just as Maxx's cold went away teething hit him full force and he's been taking it out on me ever since.  I've lost count how many times he's attempted to bite my shoulder through my clothing while in the middle of a meltdown.  (even with baby sign language they still happen)  He is drooling non stop so every shirt I wear is covered in slobber.  I've gotten to the point I've considered donning a bib or smock to protect myself.  He's been so clingy that I haven't used the restroom alone in over a month. (I'm beginning to forget what the bathroom looks like with the door closed.)

My older girls come home every week with another school project due.   Not just normal projects but ones that are under a short deadline thanks to their lack of planning and poor communication with their teachers.  I may offend someone with this but I hope you'll accept this apology now.  Male teachers at a elementary level suck at communication with parents.  When projects are assigned in a female teacher's classroom you get a packet of paper sent home describing in detail their requirements and even examples of work that is acceptable. With the male teachers you get a piece of paper that your child dictated from the teacher verbally explaining what they expect. (good luck, understanding it if you have a child like mine that doesn't learn well only verbally) Since they rotate classes (to prepare them for middle school) the students only have 1 hour to get their daily classwork done and take notes for any projects.  Another pet peeve of mine is that male teachers are less imaginative on project ideas as well.  My 5th grader did the same exact reading project that she did in fourth grade and that her fourth grader sister did not even a month before.

If only that was all that was swirling on my mind I could handle this like every other day.  Add to the fact that we will be moving soon and I feel like a complete nut job.  It's not that my husband isn't helpful, he just doesn't understand the full aspect of what needs to be accomplished.  He is under the false belief that we can just toss everything in a few boxes and be ready.  After living here for over 3 years and adding another person to the family we have so many things to sort out. We don't need to drag broken kid toys, clothing that doesn't fit or random papers along with us.  Then there is the matter of actually finding a place for us to live.  I've been the one to choose where we live with almost every single move we have ever done in the history of our marriage.  It wouldn't be so overwhelming if he didn't expect us to move closer to his work, but at the same time it is important to be close to the kid's schools, shopping, and doctor's office. (We live less than a mile from all this right now, minus being close to his work. Which is the main reasons I loved living where we live now. )

I wish I could fast-forward time to when we are moved in to our new place.   I hate this in between feeling.  I can't even place any orders online to have anything shipped since we are so close to moving and I would risk it not making it here in time due to horrible weather everywhere but here.

Medicate that Mama!

I no longer wonder why my hair is streaked with so many strands of silvery grey.  After any kind of experience with my kids I am always left with that feeling of panic brewing in the pit of my belly.  As I sit and cuddle up in a comfy chair to feed Maxx I can't help but worry about Nadia now.  Are her sisters being too rough with her?  I guess Nadia has already become used to my paranoia because she has begun calling out, " I'm alright Mama!".  Even with her reassurance I feel the dread and sick feeling bubbling back up soon after she falls silent again.

This isn't the first traumatic experience I've had with my kids.  Let's revisit some of my lowest moment of motherhood.  There was the time I was sitting on the bathroom floor getting ready for church on Easter Sunday.  Dan had already gone to church to help set up for the special services.  I was home alone with Lauryn and 7 months pregnant with Morgan at the time.  Lauryn was sitting next to me in full Easter dress as I was finishing putting my makeup on.  She had found my stash of tearjerker candy and stuffed one into her mouth and was choking on it before I could get it away from her.  I could even panic I went into auto pilot and plopped her into what little lap I had left and gave her a mini Heimlich maneuver.  The candy went shooting out of her mouth and skittered across the area rug.  I didn't even get a relieved sigh out, when she lunges for the still bouncing candy, and I am left wrestling her little grasping hands for the candy she had just choked on.   I finally pry it from her sticky fingers and flush it down the toilet as she watches me indignantly.

There was also the scare during my pregnancy with Maxx. To start there was the early belief that his pregnancy was actually twins since I was measuring so much larger than for a single pregnancy.  (I wanted to scream it's not twins I'm just fat!!)  An early ultrasound proved that false.  At a later appointment I agreed to the quad screen blood test to test for genetic problems. That choice added another 2 weeks to the most stressful times of my life list.  (it's a mental list.. my list making obsession isn't that bad.. yet)  My doctor called me to tell me that the results were positive for Trisomy 21 or in more common words Down Syndrome.  It wasn't even the selfish thoughts that raced through my mind of how my life would be changed by this.  The worries that haunted me were the common health problems that occur with down syndrome.  The scariest for me was heart abnormalities.  With a long family history of heart disease this broke my heart anytime I let myself dwell on it.  We had to attend a counseling session with a genetic counselor before they would even begin my scan.  I was on the edge of tears all morning after spending the previous two weeks praying and crying for the little being being carried inside my body.  I knew that no matter what the little one would be loved.  We just wanted to be prepared for what would come.  Sitting through the scan I couldn't even sit in awe of seeing him move and could barely muster a giggle when the baby stubbornly refused to stay in position for measuring, making the whole process take twice as long.  After a second check by the doctor we finally received the news that we not only had a healthy baby but it was a little boy.  I was told that it was just a false positive on the quad test.  My due date was off by a few short weeks which caused the timing of the blood test to be off. (there is only a short window when you can have the test and the results be even remotely accurate.)

That wasn't the worst of my trials.  There was the week before Morgan's 3rd birthday when she almost died.  I still have nightmares about this period in my life.  I feel my hands begin to shake and palms sweating just thinking about it.  I'll just leave it at, my children are not allowed to have any kind of jump rope or long ribbon or even any long strings.  There will also never be a set of bunk beds in our house ever again.  I'm left with the trauma that whenever a movie or TV show depicts a person hanging lifelessly I feel the bile rise into my throat and tears spring to my eyes.  Even though it happened over 7 years ago I still flash back to that moment of discovering my little girl not breathing with the strap tied around her neck.  Then the doctors repeatedly telling me over the next 5 days that I am lucky I found her when I did or she would not have survived or could have been left seriously harmed.

When people call me a paranoid parent or a helicopter mama for hovering nervously over my children, I just look at them with eyes glazed over with the horrors of my parenting experiences flashing behind them.  They will never understand what I have been through until they have walked a while in my shoes.  Call me a worrywart or whatever you will, but my kids will survive and thrive into adulthood.  Despite their best efforts to do themselves and each other serious injury.

Long into the future when I am a crazy old lady sitting on my porch rocking away in a chair that isn't a rocker and holding conversations with people who aren't there.  Just look at me kindly and remember the horrors that this mother has experienced on her road to raise her children to adulthood.

Hell Week ~ Motherhood version

This past week has been what could only be described as hell week the Motherhood version.  I feel like I unknowingly pledged to join some secret society and forced to pass some horrendous tasks.

With summer vacation coming to an end and the countdown to school starting my kids have, to put it in simple terms, lost their freaking minds.  They shredded my sanity in the process.

Little Mister is in a full-blown teething fit lately.  The teething tablet were lost. ::cry::  I tore the house apart looking for them since they are a $6 bottle of teething miracle.  The bottle was more than half way full, so I refused to buy another.  I stubbornly believed I would find that bottle.  After a 3 hour screaming jag on his part and a crying fit on mine did I buy a new bottle.  It was only after the last of my sanity slipped away I gave in and bought that new bottle. Why didn't I do this sooner?  I got an even bigger bottle, with almost twice the tablets for only 50 cents more.

My toddler tornado seems to believe that turning 4 means you double up the terrible twos.  She has been on a tantrum frenzy lately.  If she isn't having a meltdown she is having a pout fest.  With her older sister's back she spends a good part of her time doing everything in her power to annoy them.  Taking special things from their shelves. (she climbs on precarious self built structures to get to their precious collections)

She recently got extremely angry (picture a cute but very angry troll jumping up and down) because her older sister was holding little mister and wouldn't pass him to her.  She tried tattling that they weren't sharing brother. (like he is a toy) When that didn't work she screamed at her sister to go away she wanted her brother alone again.  The start of school can't come soon enough for the toddler tornado, then she will go back to crying when they go to class. (gotta love the drama that comes with 3 girls)

The tweens, Are experiencing nothing short of being possessed by some psychosis lately.  It leaves them bickering with each other over the smallest things. "That's my pet shop!" (out of the hundreds they own they fight over one.. worst part is it's one of the doubles.)  When they were toddlers they would tell anyone who listened that they were best friends.  Now, they spend more time as mortal enemies.

The tweens also recently got back from a month with their Nana who doesn't have the same type of household expectations as I do. Don't get me wrong I'm no clean freak or obsessive organizer. (I haven't arranged my movies in alphabetically order since having kids.) I do have some expectations though. I now get to spend my time turning them back into productive members of our household.  I get to re-teach them that their dirty clothes will not crawl their way to the laundry hamper themselves.  We limit TV times for a reason.  They should not sneak around and watch after being told to do a more enriching activity. (like practicing multiplication facts.)  Making your littlest sister cry is not an acceptable way to pass the time.

I ended up having a huge meltdown yesterday. Of course my brother shows up just in time to see it. ::embarrassed:: I was hormonal, tired, stressed and in desperate need of a break.    Four kids on summer break and no break in sight for mom makes for a very cranky mommy.  It's not that I don't ask for a break from the kids.  I do!  But for me to actually get one I have to go on strike or wait until everyone else is asleep to get some me time.  For a while now I have taken my me time in the early morning and using it to workout.  Unfortunately recently the kids have woken earlier and earlier leaving me for no personal time in the mornings to workout without an audience or kids badgering me about breakfast in the middle of my workout. Or even worse getting under foot.. (I hurt my leg due to a kid blanket that the kids left on the floor right behind me during a workout.)

I love my kids! Just because I vent about their meltdowns (ok so them causing my meltdowns) don't think I don't love them. Every parent needs a break.  More so for the ones that are the stay at home parent. My job's shift isn't over in 8 hours, I get no vacation time, no sick time, and no pay. (unless you count payment in hugs, but it's easy to forget those when the hug giver is standing in front of you in the midst of the biggest tantrum you have ever seen)

School will be starting again. Very soon I will be back in the middle homework battles, school projects and parent teacher conferences.  Before I know it I'll be looking forward to the first school break when we wont need to wake early or use a daily calendar for what to wear that day.  (No dresses for P.E. or favorite outfits worn on Art days)

Just don't get me started on what all these schedule changes are going to do to our parrots behavior.  It's like a having a bad toddler that doesn't handle change in their schedule AT ALL. Fun times.