She may only be turning nine, but she is rapidly turning into a teenager. Check out “the look”:
Can you tell how COMPLETELY TRILLED she is to be at the auto show? And “the look” is just one thing…
I’m getting the eye roll.
And the “I know, Mom!”
And the “I need my privacy.”
Promise to hold my hand, Internets. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
Yesterday I had a rare free afternoon. So I decided to sew.
I haven’t sewn in forever – the last thing I made was a Christmas gift for my mother-in-law. In 2009. I used to sew all the time – I even had a little etsy shop where I sold quilts and blankets and other baby items. My sewing dropped off significantly when Colin was born.
This is a coincidence, surely.
Anyway, things just are so busy all the time. There always is cleaning or cooking or work or something else to be done. So this is something that always gets put off. But yesterday I spent the afternoon making a darling little quilt with fabric I fell in love with back in July.
I forgot how much I like being crafty.
I think I should do this more….
This fall, Colin has joined a story time group at the library on Thursday mornings.
The last time we did story time was when Ellie and Grace were 4 and 5 and Colin had just started crawling.
We only lasted two weeks.
Trying to keep Colin quiet for an hour in a library was just too stressful.
But this time… this time the girls are in school. And when I send Colin into story time… I’m alone. I have an hour of quiet in the library.
I remember being jealous of those moms sitting alone reading as I chased a crawling baby around who insisted on making messes and screeching. I was so frazzled, trying to keep him quiet and entertained, constantly saying “Don’t touch!” or “Hush!”
Now I’m the mom sitting and reading, enjoying the quiet. And I see those moms chasing toddlers around saying “Hush.”
Which makes me treasure my short time of quiet all the more.
Colin now goes to school on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Some days he even stays until 3.
This is very new for us. I mean, we used to be together all the time. All. The. Time. I was very ready for him to go to school.
You should see him when I walk in to pick him up. His teachers all giggle. He yells, “MOMMY!!” and runs over into my arms and kisses my cheeks three times, then hugs me, then kisses me again, then he says, “How was your day? I was worried about you without me.”
Oh, I miss him when he’s gone. Now that I have a break a few hours a week, I am appreciating him more. His silliness, his jokes, his snuggles… Being apart has been great for us. On Tuesdays and Thursdays we play cars and trains, go on outings, play outside… and I treasure every minute. Because when he goes back to school, I remember how fleeting this time is. And how quickly it is going by.
This morning Colin went to school for the first time.
He was so excited. Super-dooper excited is more like it. I opened the car door at the drop off line and he leapt out of the car and ran inside to his teacher.
And I drove away. Alone.
I’m home alone for the day. For the first time in…. well, ever.
Now what?
Colin is still sick.
We spent Sunday afternoon in the emergency room again. And were sent home once again with the very helpful “Just wait it out! Its just a virus.”
“Just a virus.” Perfect.
Meanwhile, Colin has been sick for 12 days now. He is still suffering from diarrhea and throwing up every night. But, the most puzzling thing is that he is fine all day. A little more tired than usual, but happy, playing, smiling… FINE. Then between 6-9pm, it starts all over again. Another night of not sleeping, followed by another day stuck in the house.
I’ve been constantly on the verge of tears for days. I’m so so tired. We’ve had a vomiting child in our room for 13 nights now, so I haven’t had a good night sleep in about that long. So tired. And so frustrated that he’s not getting better – and so helpless because there is nothing we can do, apparently.
I feel like an over reactive mother if I keep bringing him into the doctor, but I feel like a negligent mother if I don’t. I can’t figure out if we should trust that its a virus or push for more tests. I feel like I can’t trust my instincts anymore.
I just don’t know what to do.
I just want it to stop.
My poor Gracie – last week she had the stomach bug and Saturday her birthday got canceled because of Irene.
She said it was the “worst birthday ever.” But she was a trooper. She made the best of it and, as usual, ended up entertaining us all throughout the storm, hamming it up and being generally hysterical.
I can’t believe she is seven. SEVEN. She is headed to first grade and – for the first time – will be away from me all day. I have no idea what I’m going to do without my little buddy. I’m tearing up just thinking about it. She’s so big. Its going by so quickly.
Happy Birthday, Gracie.
Last week I had a week to myself with no kiddos running around.
It was a little weird. Very quiet.
But nice too. My husband and I enjoyed time alone, went on dates and just generally marveled at how much spare time we had, not quite sure what to do with it. Like after dinner… we had nothing to do after dinner! No baths to give, no reading or homework, no refereeing fights, no playing outside, no trips to the pool, no playdates…. just free time. See? Weird.
I got tons done around the house, but I also got to go shopping, meet a couple friends for lunch, go to the dentist and other exciting adventures that are usually complicated by needing childcare.
I also learned
It made me see the light at the end of the tunnel. This fall when Colin is in preschool and I will have time to myself during the day with no kids for the first time in 8 years. Maybe I can be something other than a mom for a few hours a day…
Last week, before heading to Cape May, I went to the doctor. He thinks that I have Lyme’s again. So I was put on antibiotics.
My body did not like the antibiotics. I was feeling incredibly nauseous whenever I took them, so I tried taking them with food, at different times a day… nothing was working. While they made the Lyme’s symptoms go away, they made me spent quite a bit of time lying down eating dry toast trying not to throw up.
So yesterday, we let them get out of my system. While I cared for someone else who was throwing up. Which I’m sure qualifies as “getting some rest,” like the doctor suggested. (WHY do they suggest that to moms? Seriously! Don’t they know moms can’t be sick?) Anyway, they gave me new meds that I was able to take last night. Hopefully these will do the trick.
But meanwhile, I can barely type. My hands and arms are aching so very badly and I am totally exhausted. And its the last week of school and dance recital week, so our schedule is insane.
Like I said, moms can’t be sick. I hope this passes quickly.
We made eye contact across the aisle, as you were trying to simultaneously pick up your toddler who was throwing a fit and calm the crying newborn in your cart.
I gave you that small smile that made you look away from me, embarrassed. I was the woman in the store looking very put-together, having just come from a meeting, with no children with me. And you were so frazzled, trying to control your kids. You obviously hadn’t showered. You looked so embarrassed. And so very tired. You looked like I made you feel bad about yourself.
And I’ve been in your shoes – getting looked as my kids freak out. Feeling judged as a bad mom, practically hearing them think “My kids would never act like that.” Feeling frazzled and frumpy and embarrassed.
But I wasn’t judging you – I was remembering.
You see…
Monday, I was the mom who yelled at her kid for dropping a (full) bowl of cereal on the floor she had just cleaned.
Tuesday, I was the mom in the grocery store whose kids were arguing over who touched who as they begged loudly for cupcakes.
Wednesday, I was the mom who obviously hadn’t showered, running all over creation still in her workout clothes from that morning.
Thursday, I was once again that mom whose son was laying on the floor of Target crying because she wouldn’t buy him a toy.
Friday, I was so frazzled that I completely forgot a playdate I had scheduled and had to apologize to my daughter’s 6-year-old friend.
I was smiling because I totally, completely understood what you were feeling at that moment.
And I wished I could have told you that.