Our Real Life, part 1

I started writing this blog with the intent that I would share what our life is really like.  In reality, I've shied away from the difficult parts of our life.

If you were to meet me in person, I'd be frank and honest with you and share the challenges of my life as a parent. But, somehow, that ease of conversation is lost when typing alone in my room.  The other reason I've been hesitant about sharing our challenges is because a lot of them focus on one child, Sparky, and I don't want to portray her as the cause of all the strife in my family, because she isn't.

Its going to take more than one post but, here goes.

I knew Sparky was an "intense" child from about 8 months old.  She would NOT go to sleep.  Everything took more.  She not only took more time to fall asleep.  She was more of everything-, more demanding of my and Tall One's time, more opinionated, more playful, just MORE.

At age 3 she would be awake between 12 and 15 times night, standing at my bed asking to get in bed. Tall One and I came up with our mantra, "You can sleep on the floor (beside us) or sleep in your bed" and said it over and over and over.  That girl has endurance like you've never seen.  We did have her adenoids out and that made a dramatic difference, but I'd say in the almost 10 years of her life she has slept through the night less than 50 times.  Ranger was born about this time and people would ask how the baby was sleeping and my response was, "The baby is a piece of cake compared to Sparky."  She once had a temper tantrum for an hour, fell asleep for another hour, woke up and continued the tantrum for another hour.  That is intense. 

We started seeking counseling and more information and strategies on how to focus Sparky's intensity in a positive way. I read every book on spirited children, positive discipline, and general parenting that I could get my hands on.  We were supremely blessed to have Sparky enrolled in the Demonstration Preschool at Project Enlightenment and to have all of the support and education they offer. 

I remember this year as a blur of tantrums (from Sparky as well as Tall One and I), crying, frustration, and fear. I knew Sparky was outside the norm for preschool behavior, but it was difficult to understand and come to terms with how this would change our life.  I thought we'd try a new doctor, medicine, strategy, or chart and it would work and we'd have that problem solved.  It doesn't work that way.  After hundreds of attempts you have to suck it up and try a hundred more times. .  When I think back I am filled with those same feelings of inadequacy, angst, anger at the unfairness, worry for our other children, and utter exhaustion. 

My House is a Sieve

My house is a giant sieve- and the holes are getting bigger. 

I've never been much of a keeper.  I am not very nostalgic about stuff, but I do have the "I might need it gene." I'm a regular at the local thrift store bringing bags of donations every few months.  My house is a giant sieve and as things flow into it some things also flow out of it.

I married a keeper.  Tall One is sentimental about objects and the people who give him things.  That quality is one of the things I love most about him- and one that drives me batty. We are constantly in conflict over what to keep and not keep.  Over the 17 years we've been together I've become less and less of a keeper.  The holes in the sieve are getting larger and larger.



I think it is because we now have four more people and all of their stuff.  So much of my life is about  cleaning, shuffling, organizing, putting away, and finding STUFF. 

I'm over it. 

I get rid of more and more stuff every week.  These last few weeks the holes have gotten huge.  I've been working to sort clothes for Sparky, Ranger and Pixie.  I have literally been drowning in clothes.  I am having nightmares of being buried in millions of little pants, shirts, and dresses.

That, in combination with an upcoming kitchen renovation, have driven me to get rid of everything I can.  I struggle every day to maintain order in our house.  I figure it is easier to give it (anything) away rather than clean it or find a place to put it.  Tall One told me he's afraid that if he sits still too long I'll bag him up and put him in the back of the car bound for the thrift store. 

I don't always have control of what comes into our house.  With four children's birthdays and Christmas within a few months of each other, we are heading into the major STUFF season of our house.  I can encourage grandparents to give experiences and time all I want, but they really enjoy giving that special gift that makes the girls' faces light up.  But then we have to figure out how to fit all those new things into our house and life.  My mom jokes that if a toy survives in my house for six months it must be a good one.  Between my constant purging of unused toys and my girls playing rough- a toy that lasts more than a few months is a definite winner. 

So- as the girls all head back to school this week, I'm in super purge mode.  I am cleaning out! Wish me luck.

9 bags total- Outta Here!

Today I worked on Sparky's clothes.  Having four girls means we have a lot of hand-me-downs.  We are lucky enough to have friends and family who hand stuff to my girls so I rarely have to purchase any clothes.  That certainly helps the family budget.

However, it comes with a price. 
That price is time and sanity.

I spent no less than four hours today going through 8 bins and 6 trash bags full of clothes for Sparky. Two years ago Sparky started a medication that suppressed her appetite. And by suppressed, I mean decimated. She wouldn't eat anything.  We were feeding her the highest fat foods we could find; cereal with full fat whipping cream, burgers and milkshakes.  It was not a position I ever thought I'd be in- encouraging my child to eat as much fat and calories as possible. It was really crazy but the medication was helping with behavior so we kept her on it.  She eventually plateaued a bit and stopped losing weight. But she was skinny.  I mean, see her ribs skinny.  She swam in the hand-me-downs from Ya-ya.  I had to buy "slim" jeans for her and tighten them as much as possible. 

Fast forward another 18 months and we changed medications and added some new ones.  One of the ones we added was a sedative that caused Sparky to be hungry ALL THE TIME.  At first it was great- she was less picky, enjoyed family meals, and gained some needed weight.  Then it was swinging too far in that direction and she put on a bunch of weight.  As a mom I really struggled with the bizarre food messages we were sending her "Eat as much as possible," then "One serving is plenty." In the last 2 months we were able to eliminate that particular medication and now Sparky's appetite seems "normal"- if I even remember what that is. 

The end result is that Sparky's clothing sizes have been all over the chart.  And as picky as she is about some things, the girl truly could get dressed in the dark for as much attention as she pays to clothes.  She dresses by comfort (both on her skin and familiarity)  So if there is a pair of shorts and a t shirt that she finds comfortable and has worn before and liked, she puts them on.  No matter if they are clashing colors or patterns.  In fact, she still believes that dressing monochromaticly or wearing a floral and floral or stripe and stripes is matching.  I'm sure that can be done with finesse by a fashionista, but Sparky isn't quite there yet.

As of late, she has grown so much that most of her clothes are too small- but she pays no mind and just puts on what she likes and what feels good.  Over the weekend my mom took her out to buy an outfit for the first day of school.  This is the first year she has ever wanted to make a good impression on her teacher and classmates so my mom happily obliged.  In trying on clothes they discovered that she is most comfortable in a size 14.

She skipped right on over size 12 and all the size 10 winter clothes I was expecting her to wear this year.  So my four hours today was spent digging through all the clothes and pulling out the 10s and 12s and packing them up to go to the consignment store or thrift store.  I don't keep clothes after Sparky wears them because Ranger is over her own mind and hasn't worn a dress or anything remotely girly in more than 2 years.  I figure it'll be at least 5 years before Pixie hits the sizes Sparky is in now, and I just don't want to store clothes for that long.  I packed up 5 bags headed to the consignment store and have another 4 ready for the thrift store.  It was fantastic to get so many clothes out of the house!

There are still at least 4 bins of clothes that are the right size for Sparky.  We now need to go through them all and decide what to keep and what to pass on.  Yikes- that adventure will require a whole other post.

I Survive on Moments

So much of my life is hectic, frantic, loud, and on the move.  Seems that we are always living right on the edge of sanity.  I've been working full time the last three weeks and the mornings have been especially difficult.  It was the task of getting all four girls ready for their individual activities, as well as my and Tall One's lunches packed, breakfast for us all, and myself out the door by 7:15am.

What gets me though is the brief moments.  The moment when Sparky offers to help Ranger fix waffles.  The moment when Pixie walks out of her room with a soft sleepy face and reaches up for a snuggle.  Those are the moments that fuel me during the chaos.  

Sparky and Tall One have  a bit of a rocky relationship but the other morning Sparky walked up and hugged him and professed her love.  How long have we worked towards that?!?!?! That moment will endure.

As I ran around this evening straightening the house while we waited for dinner to arrive (Yay Grandparents!) I listened to Ya-ya offer to help Sparky clean her room.  That 15 second conversation I overheard will give me another month of hope for their sometimes strained relationship.

When dinner arrived and I asked Kate to turn off the computer to come eat, and she did it, without a long drawn out tantrum as has become all too regular, it was a moment to treasure.

Sleeping kids are always a moment that brings me peace.  I once had a friend tell me that when you are angry with your kids, remember what they look like asleep.  Its true, every kid looks adorable and lovable sleeping.  

I don't need much, I don't need perfect behavior or a sparkling clean house, I just need a few seconds of calm and cooperation to be my moments of grace that are like a deep breath for my soul.  

Dinner Time

Dinner Time

Last night as the whole family sat down for dinner Pixie said, “This is an excellent dinner Mommy!”  (Love that kid!)

 

So often we sit down to dinner and one (all) of the girls complain, moan, or make faces.  

Once when Ya-ya was about 4 years old I had had enough of her complaining about my dinner choices.  I sat her down and tried to explain that it hurt my feelings.  I asked how she would feel if I criticized her artwork because I work just as hard on dinner as she does on her masterpieces..  She looked at me and said, “That will never happen because I’m a great artist.”

I just had to laugh.  Of course I couldn’t help but respond with “I’m a great cook, you just don’t know it!”

Despite the lack of encouragement, I continue to prepare dinner for us 5-6 nights a week and we sit down to eat as a family.

My good friend Rachel, a nutritionist, promises this will have benefits in the future.  So Tall One and I keep trying.  I can’t stand repetition and monotoany so I am always trying new recipes and foods.  I know that kids are just the opposite- they like repeition and are fans of the “known.”  So I do stick in favorites a few nights a week.

I generally include at least one thing on the menu that I know the kids will eat. Often, I accomplish that by serving a deconstructed version of the main dinner.  For instance, last night we had  tofu, corn, carrot, rice and cashew lettuce wraps.  I served the complete dish as well as the individual ingredients.  

Ya-ya has matured into an adventurous eater and will try anything, she ate the wraps and loved it.  The others ate the rice and carrots. I don’t know what got Pixie excited about the dinner - maybe the construction of the lettuce wrap?  Either way- she tried it all but didn't actually eat much.  

Meals are like so much of parenting, it is easy to take it personally.  When the girls complain, I take it to heart.  I need to remember what Rachel says, "It is your job to make healthy food available, it is their job to eat it."  So I back off and enjoy my dinner. 

When the girls complain about dinner I now reply, "The good news is, you don't have to eat it."  I've done my job, its up to them to do theirs.

Power of a 3yr old

I love 3 year olds.  I particularly love one 3 year old, my little Pixie.  Three year olds have amazing imagination, boundless love, and are trying to find the line between independence and relying on mommy.  I just adore this time in my girls' lives. 

The year olds can:


Put on every item of clothing backwards, even some that I would have deemed physically impossible

Simultaneously cry and laugh

Create a complete imaginary world out of a few blocks and dolls

Fall asleep anytime anywhere, when they need it

Sleep without guilt and worry

Smile and say hello to everyone

Vent their anger with no shame or hesitation.

Give hugs to anyone at any time.

Believe in magic.

Adamently state their own opinion and won't be swayed from it.

Learn new words every day.

Are amazed at their own learning, "Look what I can do."

Laugh at easy silliness.  How can pretending to tickle her and not even touch her be so funny?

Will claim everything as their own (my tree, my grocery store, my creek).

Cheer when you arrive home, even if it is just after a walk to the mailbox.

Are easily convinced to make anything into a game, from cleaning to brushing teeth. 


Last night, as Pixie slept, I went in to take a picture of her.  She was sleeping in that perfect little angel pose, with her hands under her cheek and her bow lips parted daintily.  I took the picture to keep with me and pull up when she is "Adamantly stating her opinion" or "Venting her anger with no shame or hesitation." During those times I need a visual reminder that there is another side to her.

Quiet Time

Its been a long time since I rocked a baby to sleep.  I will forever remember that feeling when they completely relax and drift off.

During the girls infancies, in the middle of the night when I hadn't showered in days and could no longer keep track of which side I was nursing, or if it had been one hour or three since the last feeding, it was the moment I lived for.

That is when I felt most "Mommy-ish."  It was the hardest, most difficult part of those first weeks and months, but it's also the part that was mine, and mine alone.

That moment of relaxation and sleep was the reward . 

Yesterday Ranger slipped on some water in the kitchen and did the classic banana peel fall.  She is tough as nails but this really rattled her.  So I picked her up and put her in my lap on the recliner. I patted her back and whispered to her.

After a few minutes I went to get up and return to whatever chore was occupying the afternoon, but I caught myself.  Why give up this moment?  So instead, I clicked the recliner back and nuzzled into her neck and remembered that late night feeling.

Ranger no longer fits on my lap like she used to.  She a tall 6 year old and her arms and legs flop over the side of the chair.  But she smells the same and she feels the same when she takes that breath, relaxes, and gives into sleep.

No feeling in the world matches that moment when comfort, love, and relaxation come together and your child falls asleep in your arms.