This week's truths

Jonathan left on Monday to a conference and although I was nervous, I had lots of votes of confidence from family and friends. I could most definitely handle work and caring for two kids. No sweat. Sometimes the kids are better behaved for one parent instead of two. It'll be chaos, but you'll survive. You got this. 

Those were the words of wisdoms I received.

So I did what I always do: embraced the challenge. I saw it as a chance to flex my parenting muscles. I wanted to come out the other end of the week glowing with my strong, capable, and flexible skills I had developed. I couldn't wait to rub my husband's nose in it: look what I can do! Run victory laps at my success.

Let me tell you: I got a good case of shut down! Things got ugly and desperate. I never foresaw how Vincent would react to having Dad gone. How I would have to battle his 4 year old coping skills. There was yelling and tears from both of us. And then I had to deal with Isla, the baby who sleeps in spurts made worse by coughing spells. Vincent even woke up in the middle of the night two days in a row. It was a tantrum to get him back to bed as he ran around the pitch black house screaming and crying. 

There were many phone calls to Jonathan asking him to talk to my erratic child as I couldn't muster the patience to calm him down and all my threats landed on deaf ears. 

Talk about a huge ego shutdown! By Friday I was singing just knowing that evening I wouldn't have to go it alone. That I wouldn't have to fail one more night. That maybe I'd actually get more than 4 hours of sleep. 

I wish I could say that Jonathan's homecoming made everything better, that our weekend ended up being beautiful and put all the wrongs right again. Instead, I woke up Saturday with a fever, sore throat, bodyaches, upset stomach, and sneezing my head off. This was supposed to be my crowning moment where I reaped my reward for single parenting for the week (although horribly) by heading out for a little me time. I deserved that. I needed that! Instead I lounged around all day only nursing Isla. 

I wish I could say that was the end of the story. 

Saturday night as I go to put dishes into the drying rack I had washed, a big fat drop of water landed on my arm. I thought at first I had just gotten myself wet washing dishes. I wish. Instead, there was a steady drip of water coming from our ceiling! And as I looked down at the kitchen rug, I realized it was soaked. 

At 9 at night my husband climbed into our insulation filled attic to determine the source of the problem. Vincent was still awake. I was still awake. 

We finally figured out an ventilation pipe was leaking. There are far too many boring details to that story to go into it, but...

This week was not easy. I didn't grow parenting wings. We survived. I realized how much I rely on my husband. 

I realized that even when you think it's bad, you haven't had it rain on you in your kitchen. 

What a Monday?

This morning, the day after that wonderful day called Mother's Day, Monday happened. It was a mother of all Mondays. So fitting. Like it was there to ground me and remind me of my real job. 

Isla didn't sleep very well. She woke up every hour or so whether she was being snuggled or not and whether she had just eaten an hour ago or not. Maybe it's another glorious growth spurt. Who knows. But did it really have to happen the Monday after Mother's Day and the week Jonathan will be gone to a conference for the week? (I've never had to be a temporary single mom before. Should be interesting.)

So you think: I'll just make myself a spot of coffee and all will be right. Only I have a four year old barista in training who loves to help. This morning Vincent got distracted by a magnet as he was helping and while we were cleaning up (I run a cup of water through the Nepresso after making a cup), his elbow caught the steaming hot cup and knocked it right in his chair and splashed all over him. Vincent screamed and the mug shattered. 

Boy did I feel guilty. As I rushed around stripping off his clothes and putting an ice pack where the water got him, he was upset he broke a mug and water got everywhere. Bless him! We managed to get all cleaned up and get out the door only 10 minutes late, my mommy guilt and Monday wrath following us out the door!

The drive to school gave me time to decompress and reflect. While I was complaining about my children, lack of sleep, and it being Monday, I was being taught something about grace. Apparently I could use a little bit more of it. Ironically, for the first tjme, my coffee did not taste good. 

What I missed while I was gone

I can't tell you how excited I was to get home to my boys. As much as I thoroughly enjoyed my time away and hanging with some family, I couldn't wait to find out how much Vincent missed me. Or not.

I walked in the door and the first thing he asked, "Where's Tami (my sister) and the doggie?" Wow. Mom's home and he barely notices.

In the week I was away it seems like Vincent learned more words and is speaking in longer sentences. He told me all kinds of things and coherently. 

The thing I did forget: how exhaustive it is to stay present and engaged with Vincent. It took less than a day for the magic of my vacation to wear off. I do feel more patient in his melodramatics.

This morning he flipped out over the flax seeds in his oatmeal. The oatmeal he has eaten every morning, stuffing it in his mouth as fast as possible. So I calmly took him out if his seat while Dad threw waffles in the toaster. After Vincent had inhaled a couple of waffles, getting some food in his system, he was calmed down and ready to take on those pesky flax seeds.

Oh the dramatics!

Breakfast

Breakfast is my most favorite meal of the day. It usually doesn't take long to put together and I love the flavor.

Right now I'm on a Greek yogurt and fresh fruit kick. There's nothing quite so luscious as creamy thick yogurt paired with slices of juicy fresh peach or tart raspberries. 

I also love hard boiled eggs, hormone free and all that good stuff {they taste way better, believe me}. This week I paired it with a slice of stone ground wheat bread {Nature's Harvest, super yum}, and Rainer cherries. Yum and beautiful at the same time. 

I think good food should be beautiful too. It makes it taste more amazing. Next year I'm hoping we can plant a little garden {carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, green beans--we'll see what else my inner Martha cooks up}. Lately I've not shied away from putting food on Vincent plate I'm certain he won't eat {and more certainly will play with}, but know in time he'll come to recognize, try, and some day love. It's wonderful to see him make those choices already. As long as I leave it to him and don't force him, he generally will try everything.

This is what crazy feels like

This week has been insane! I've been trying to wrap up story interviews for four articles I'm writing as a freelancer {so thankful for the opportunity and to be writing again...for extra money}, studying up for a job interview {with the same company that gave me the freelance gig}, and trying to get my August issue of my day job scooted along {it's not going well; my freelancer somehow missed my email last week asking for edits}. On top of that, Vincent was home sick Tuesday {puking} so I "stayed home" with him and then yesterday Jonathan stayed home with him, but Vincent struggled to understand that Mommy couldn't come play and kept opening my office door and telling me not to close it again. Bossy! Added to that, next week I'm taking the week off to head to Denver to see my sister. I'm uncertain if Vincent will be coming with me. My oldest sister is driving us {I think it's 9 hours there}. I'm not sure my nerves can handle a car ride with a two year old for that long. Plus it would be nice to relax with my sisters who I don't see often enough. This sister needs a break...from this charming face. 

How will I tell you Mommy has MS?

This question has been running through my head lately. Of course we're not anywhere near this milestone, but still, it's a subject that requires delicacy. Children only understand what's right in front of them. Mommy's throwing up=Mommy's sick. Mommy's got a cut on her finger=Mommy's hurt. But how do you explain something that can have no outward signs (if you're lucky) or how do you explain the sudden onslaught of potentially scary things. Mommy can't walk=Mommy can't play with me. Not true, I know, but it's still something a child might think.

I'm fortunate that I have no symptoms. I take a once daily, painful injection to ward them off. And it's working. How long? Who knows.

I worry because my mother was sick. She both suffered from anxiety and from emphysema. Going out in public was difficult for her, let alone getting out with an oxygen tank and the fear that someone could be wearing obnoxious perfume that could send her into a asthmatic-anxiety tailspin. She didn't even make it to my college graduation.

I know I have a better chance being a more healthy mother than mine ever was, but will I be perceived as normal if I don't continue to do as well has I have been? Children are mean and naturally have bullish tendencies from all the hormones racing through them. I hope that my health never gets in the way of being the mother I always wished I had had and the mother Vincent wants and deserves.

Forgive my snap judgements

I'm getting to that age where I'm thinking how I'll raise my children. This is probably due in most part to all the people around me having babies—co-workers, friends, and definitely the family. I catch myself thinking, "I will never allow my child to do that" or "My child will do this." Forgive me. I've fallen trap to that mistake all future parents make: judgement. If I can learn anything from these people in my life that already have kids is getting advice and just an keeping an open mind. Kids aren't robots. They've got lots of personality that can't always be managed within the confines of what we think is right or wrong. Rather, both parent and child are learning.

So to all you parents out there, good job. You really don't get enough credit.