Archive for the ‘motherhood’ Tag
August 21 2009
Until about age 2, Buzz and I had a bond that could not be broken. It was strong, crushing, immeasurable. It was a me and him against the world mentality. To this day, I’m still the one he runs to first. I’m the one he looks for if he happens to wake in the middle of the night. I understand him better, and I always have.
I didn’t have such a fierce connection like this with Jedi. It’s not even as close with Abby. It was just like electricity that struck between Buzz and I.
Around age 2 is when I was in the uncomfortable burgeoning midst of my pregnancy with Abby. I didn’t have the stamina nor capacity to be how I was before, not to mention the body armor as the boy grew rough. And now, I don’t have the hands, energy, or patience for much of anything.
It doesn’t take a child psychologist to surmise this is why he acts out like he does. It’s for attention. The attention he wants, the attention I used to be able to hand out in immeasurable scoops. It’s frustrating, on numerous levels. For both of us.
And so there is guilt. Guilt for not being there enough, even though I’m right here. Guilt for being aggravated when I know I shouldn’t be, it’s just as much my fault as it is his. Guilt for not helping him more. Guilt for not feeling as connected to him as I once did. Guilt for cussing him under my breath some days. Guilt for absolutely despising this age and stage that he’s currently immersed in. There are so many I don’t's that I could throw out right now and not nearly enough I can’s.
Every mother has guilt over something. This is mine.
August 11 2009
My body has not been mine for 6 years.
First was my pregnancy with Jedi, which lasted most of 2003. He was born in November. At which point, I attempted breastfeeding for a few weeks. Rather quickly, he was moved to formula. I didn’t feel like my body was truly mine, though, because I still had baby fat and jiggles that I didn’t recognize.
I may have had a few months where I felt like myself again before I found out I was pregnant with Buzz. After his birth in April 2006, I breastfed him for 20 very long months. I am here to tell you that when you breastfeed, your body is the farthest from yours that it can be unless you ripped off each of your extremities and handed them over to a passing bystander. We finally weaned, only because the moo ceased to milk.
Lo and behold, the main reason I dried up is because I was newly pregnant with Abby. She has been breastfeeding for almost 13 months now, going strong. Quite literally, she is attached. If I would let her, she would be more than content to stay latched on to me ALL. DAY. LONG.
That’s 6 years.
I am so ready to get my body back.
July 31 2009
Buzz likes to have a bowl of cereal in the morning. It’s the only breakfast item he’ll eat with any amount of gusto. Inevitably, I feed it to him or else a milky mess gets sloshed everywhere. Sometimes though, it takes more energy than I have that early on to stuff his maw full of Fruit Loops. He doesn’t care about my feelings, though, he just wants cereal.
That’s when it hit me, an idea so simple in it’s brilliance! Why didn’t I think of this before?
Dry cereal!
Genius!
Which was fine for about 5 minutes. Until he began to play with the fortified O’s. First, dumping them out on the table. Then, on the floor. When Abby came along, grabbed a handful, and ran off as if they were fortified with gold dust instead of intoxicating sugar. Although to her, the two would be one and the same. She was squealing as I chased and then pried the rings of glee from her death grip. All the while, multi-color crumbs were sticking underfoot. It was way more hassle than a regular bowl of milk-drenched cereal would ever be.
Friggin’ genius.
July 22 2009
There is an unspoken rule in casa de us when it comes to who is in charge of whom: I get Abby and Buzz, J takes Jedi. Buzz is sometimes transferable, but more often than not he ends up with me.
Normally, I grab the short end of the stick on this. Just the simple mathematics alone, then take into account weight, age, and stage of agreeability they’re currently at. I don’t know how many times I’ve grumbled a few curse words as I’ve been walking through somewhere with one kid on my hip and the other flailing and squirming from my hand, only to look over and see Jedi trotting along politely next to his father.
However, yesterday morning Jedi was complaining of a stomach ache. It seemed to pass fairly quickly, though, and by afternoon he said it was gone. Then 1 a.m. rolls by and he vomits apparently everywhere. I say apparently, because guess who had to clean it up?
NOT ME!
Is it wrong that my first thought, after noticing Jedi was fine of course, was TAKE THAT, BITCHES. I’m sure karma will come back and bite me for laughing a little on the inside as I returned to sleep. But I’ve dealt with enough vomit to last a couple lifetimes as it is.
July 14 2009
The other day, J suggested a night at the drive-in movie theater. I glared at him as if he had hot pink devil horns sprouting from his head in response.
The idea is pleasant enough. However, reality is entirely subjective. Our last attempt at a drive-in movie night was before Abby was born. While J shared a front seat with Jedi, munching on popcorn, enjoying the show, having a grand time of it, I was stuck attempting to soothe and contain the wild beast in the back. A monster who was steadfast on utter chaos and destruction in such limited space. The hellion who absolutely refused to be restrained or cooperative or at a respectable movie watching volume, for crying out loud. Multiply this by 2 now and how is this fun for me?
How?
No, really, HOW?
Suffice it to say, the drive-in is unfortunately off limits for the 5 of us this summer. At least as far as I’m concerned. Add it to the ever growing list of maybe next year’s.
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
