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Mommy Day

The other day I stopped in at the Coralville library over my lunch break to pick up an item I had on hold. As I walked up to the door to one of mine and the girls' favorite mommy day hangouts I felt a sudden pang of sadness. Maybe it is just because spring is here and there is so much more to do when the weather is nice. Maybe it's because I am finding myself sucked into work issues that I would rather not carry around, but I am mourning the loss of my carefree mommy days lately. The site of several young moms accompanied by little cuties did not help me.

Realizations

1. Tonight Thea seemed to work herself into quite a dilemma trying to decide if, after announcing that she had to poop and being offered candy to deposit said poop in the potty chair, it was worth it to go with the unfamiliar, or to cry for a diaper and miss out on a chance at candy. I realized that even though she ultimately went with the diaper and no candy, potty training and life without diapers isn't all that far in our future.

2. This one is a bit of a twofer. The girls and I went to the library this evening. I wanted to check out photography and weight loss books, and the kids love the library. My first realization is that if I don't know exactly what I am looking for, going to the library with my kids is going to be a frustrating waste of time. I came home with two books that I am 90% sure I won't end up reading. Secondly, the Coralville Library has a display of new books right in the main entrance. I tend to scan the new books, grab what looks interesting and carry it off to the kids area so I can decided if I want to take it home or not while the girls are playing. Today I picked up a book that was some kind of comedy infused memoir about motherhood. I flipped into the center, read a few lines and promptly set it aside. It occurred to me that I am so over reading mommy confessions of guilt. Ugh, so over done. Of course it is, because ALL MOM's struggle with these things. So yes, blah blah you don't always make your kids wash their hands, me either.
As a side-note, I realize that if everyone felt that way, my readership would be down to zero. And I do enjoy a good "Mom blog" mostly because I know and love the mom who writes it. And also, I will admit it is a bit of sour grapes. I want a damn book too.

3. It isn't just my body that is fat. I have the mind of a fat person, and I don't know how to change that. I have been working out at least 3 times a week for 4 months now and I haven't lost a pound. Why is that? Because as dedicated as I can be to working out, I have no control over my eating. I can't not let myself feel that comforting and familiar sensation of fullness. And not veggie fullness. Carb fullness. Cheese. Bread. Chocolate. When I think of how far I could have been on the journey to not fat if I had just stopped feeding my face like each meal was my last back in November when I joined a gym, my frustration bubbles over. I don't understand how people manage to eat healthy amounts of healthy food. My fat girl mind can't fathom it and even trying makes me tired. And hungry.

Building forts

I guess this is one of those things that kids do, and when I was telling Cory the story about watching Thea as she one by one pulled the cushion tops off of each of the ottoman sections and set them up on their sides in the living room, he was quick to jump in and say that Leila had done the same thing last week. Monkey See Monkey do I guess, but it was still so cute to watch her little mind working out the logistics of her fort.

Leila is teaching her sister lots of things, how to count, how to identify colors, how to build forts. I know that I recently posted about wondering what Thea would be like without her big sister's influence, but then I guess she wouldn't be the same Thea. As they continue to grow up together I am sure the influence will start to grow in both directions, just as I hope that at some point in my life I have influenced my older sister as my younger siblings have done to me.

I hope that as a parent I am giving my children the values that I hold dear, but as my Dad can attest to, as much as you try to show your children the way of the world, sometimes they go off in their own direction. I wonder how I will feel the first time Leila or Thea voice a true opinion that is not one that I share, aside from "candy makes a good dinner." I hope to think that it won't throw me for a loop, that I will be able to understand where they are coming from. I am hoping that I can sit back and marvel at the way their minds work, but I should probably prepare myself for the inevitable bewilderment.

Birthday girl!

Gilead

I don't read Fiction books very often. I spend so much time trying to wrap my brain around the real world, that Fiction seems like a waste to me, when I could be focused on truth. Because I came across a reference to the book Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson that indicated that it was based on my hometown of Tabor, Ia, my interest was peaked. Couple that with the fact that it won a Pulitzer prize and the author is a local to Iowa City, I decided it was worth a shot.

I won't go into all of the details of the book, but I will say this. I should really give Fiction more of a chance. This book was so full of real honest truth that I can't believe it came out of someone's imagination. It is totally awe inspiring for me.
The premise of the story is that a much older father knows that he won't watch his son grow up, and he wants to leave something behind of himself.

I will share my favorite passage from the book:
"I'd never have believed I'd see a wife of mine doting on a child of mine. It still amazes me every time I think of it. I'm writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you've done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God's grace to me, a miracle, something more than a miracle. You may not remember me very well at all, and it may seem to you to be no great thing to have been the good child of an old man in a shabby little town you will no doubt leave behind. If only I had the word to tell you."

Wow. I loved love loved that.

You should read this book too. I hope you love it as much as I did.

Even

The time was getting away from me all week and so I found myself at Target during my lunch hour today to search out a birthday gift for Sunday's little birthday girl.
This is not an easy task, and it got me to thinking about how much of who Thea is, is because of her sister. When I think of what Thea likes...aside from books and puzzles, which she genuinely seems to adore, she likes what Leila likes. They both carry around their stuffed animals, special blankets (Though Leila seems to be outgrowing this) and they play with Barbies and Polly Pockets.

As I walked through the Target store I went up and down the toy aisles looking for something especially for Thea. There were lots of baby dolls, but I had already told others about Thea's love of babies. I saw a baby stroller. We already have one, even if has been through the beatings of one child already. That is a guilt pang for another day.

I can't bring myself to buy Polly Pockets and Barbies for my 2 year old. She is a baby, and likely wouldn't care about those things at all if her big sister didn't make them seem so attractive. I finally settled on a puzzle and a musical guitar. But I left the store feeling unsure about my choice, and worrying.

Every time I tell Leila or Thea that I love them, I worry that the other will think that I don't love them as well. When Thea does something that is totally adorable, as nearly 2 year olds frequently do, I tend to gush my affection for her. I look at Leila, as she tries to create the same reaction in her mother and I know, she isn't getting enough from me.

Sometimes I wish I had a clicker in each pocket so I could keep track of the attention that I rain on my children, and make sure that the count comes out as evenly as Santa's offerings on Christmas morning. At least I know that at only 2 years old Thea won't look at her birthday presents and think, "You don't even know me!" But I think that my Thea goal for her 3rd year must be to learn more of what my little girl is when big sister isn't around. And of course, even it out with some solo Leila time as well! ;)

Old Lady Rants

I have no issues admitting that I am an old lady, trapped in the body of a 30 year old. My parents would tell you that I have always been kind of an old lady. I remember as a child asking my Dad how I should go about getting insurance. He assured me that eight year olds don't have to worry about that, and when the time came, I would find an insurance agent without a problem.

Last week Cory and I were driving to work along the Coralville strip and I was telling him a story of some kind when all of the sudden my ears were assaulted by the awful bumping bass in the car next to us. I could feel the little hairs in my ears shaking, and I could no longer concentrate or remember what I was talking about. I believe I did utter the words, "Isn't there some kind of law about how loud you can have your music in the car?!?! I can't hear myself think right now! That guy is going to ruin his hearing!"

Yes, I am old. But maybe the most tell tale sign of my advanced maturity is my complete loathing of the popular acronym that the kids are throwing around these days, FML. I see it on Facebook all the time, from generally younger friend, but sometimes high school classmates who obviously have never had their lives touched by any kind of real tragedy, otherwise they would know how insensitive and obtuse it is to declare "F--K My Life" over something as trivial as a missed opportunity to go out for a beer, or a pair of pants that are suddenly too tight.

I am certainly familiar with melancholy, and self pity is not something that is below me, but I can't ever see the humor in FML. I hate it. If no one in your household is suffering from a terminal illness, please give it a second thought before you callously dismiss the blessings in your life to complain about your less than perfect day by damning your whole life. It isn't funny.

I think I am done now.

While on the subject....

Of nostalgia...another gem I came across.

http://vivianmaier.blogspot.com/

This is amazing, and just what I love about photography, true captured moments.

Abandoned Houses

Our family makes a lot of trips up and down twelfth avenue and years ago I noticed the big abandoned white house. It stuck out in an area ripe with 1950s block like ranches. It looked like a stately old farm house that had probably once known the laughter of lots of children, running in and out, letting the screen door snap shut behind them as they bound down the porch stairs and out to explore. The house has several porches, including a huge second story porch. I could picture the woman of the house resting in an old wooden chair, gazing at the stars and feeling the cool evening breeze while enjoying the silence as her children slept off their exhaustion from the long summer day.

You could say that I had invested something of myself in the house, and I would have jumped at any opportunity to explore it. Last summer, I got that opportunity, though I have to be honest and say that it had lost some of its appeal. Over the past few years I have seen a lot more activity at the house, and as it turns out, it was being completely restored. You can learn more about the house here: www.bigwhitehouse.org

Leila and I made a trip through the house on the 4th of July. I wish I could say it was everything I had dreamed of, but of course it wasn't. The memory of the way things might have been was too far removed, but it is still a beautiful home.

I thought of the big white house this week when I came across this: http://www.100abandonedhouses.com


How amazing and sad and beautiful. I flipped through the pictures wondering how this could have happened. When did it all go wrong for these beautifully designed homes. What happened to the people that lived here? I guess you could say, I have a thing for Abandoned houses. I want to know what went wrong and I want to imagine them at their best, happiest times. I really want to fix them.

The butt tree

On our walk back to the car after leaving the birds behind Leila yelled out, "Hey! Look, its a big butt tree!" She pegged that one.

Sunday Funday!

I feel like it has been a long time since I have really put anything on this blog. Winter has been a dull season of cold and I haven't felt too inspired lately. With the great thaw starting to set in I am happy to post about a fun adventure that we went on today. I love free fun, and the raptor center was definitely worth the trip, even after our long walk and cold noses. And the beautiful sunshine made 45 degrees feel pretty nice.



One of the owls!

The cutest of all of the owls.





Tired baby


Never tired baby


Leila really enjoyed the birds. Tonight when I laid down in bed with her and asked her about the best and worst part of her day, she told me that the best part was seeing almost all of her family, and the worst part was feeling sad for the birds with hurt feet and wings. She is such a sweet little thing.

My high for today? Getting to enjoy the outdoors in reasonable temps. The low - Had to be when at dinner with Grandma Sandi and Papa Ed Leila said that she still didn't know how babies get in their mommy's tummies. I told her to ask me again later and I would explain, lets see how long it takes for her to ask.

This is how I feel lately too. Maybe it is cabin fever. Maybe it is just me, but lately it seems that every evening is filled with never ending choirs of whining.

It seems like everyday I see something on TV or on the internet that makes me question myself. Am I feeding my family the right things? Are we all getting the amount of activity that we should? Do we watch too much TV? Am I giving my kids ADD by letting play video games? And then things like this make me realize that trusting my instincts will always be worth more than the advertisements I have been fed. And I didn't even have to douche with Lysol with come to this realization.

Life

I remember quite vividly from when I was a child, thinking about what I would do when I was grown up. I had a couple of requirements that stick out in my memory. No pantyhose required and no early mornings.

Someone once suggested to childhood me that maybe I would enjoy being a teacher. At the time I must have had a teacher who liked to wear skirts because I knew right away that it was a no go. Pantyhose.

I currently own no pantyhose, but I do get up earlier than I would ever choose. Lately I feel like every morning I wake up tired and rushed. We hustle out the door as soon as we can get all the teeth and hairs in the house brushed and we are off to the races. A rushed drop off at daycare, a day spent watching the hours creep by and 4:30 hits and we are running again.

I miss the sun, I miss friends that I can't work up the energy to seek out at the end of the day. My kids go to bed, and I fall in right behind them, dreading the alarm clock in the morning.

Sounds like life to me. But at least there are no pantyhose.

I added a quote to the sidebar of my blog a while back. Sometimes I read a quote that just strikes me, and this one did.

"We are not put on this earth for ourselves, but are placed here for each other. If you are always there for others, then in time of need, someone will be there for you."

-- Jeff Warner

It's the kind of quote that you could base a whole life on. And just think of what a wonderful world we could live in if everyone did?

Is is summer yet?

Sweet Mabel

Christmas

Ever since I started my 365 blog, I feel like I have neglected this place when it comes to pictures. So many of my pictures are taken just to get that one picture a day in, and I just don't take as many photos. I am especially hesitant to take pictures because the flash is always on (yuck and boo for dark winter) and my house is always a big mess. So, just because, here are finally a few pictures from Christmas. I will spare you the pictures of poor Thea's forehead after she fell and grew a golf ball sized goose egg.

Chinese Mothers

I read an op/ed earlier this week that has stuck with me. As a mother who is constantly questioning my performance at my most important job, a column that points out that there is an entire country, a hugely populated one at that, where every mother out performs me is bound to cause some reflection.

Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior

As I read through the article, my first thought was that I was sure glad that this lady wasn't MY mother. I bet my kids would agree.

On second thought...as I bit my finger nails off today (The first time in MONTHS :(), and ate breakfast pizza when I am supposed to be dieting, and couldn't concentrate on my work at work, and gave up on getting my toddler to let let me brush her teeth, maybe I need to be my own Chinese mother. I certainly won't start calling my kids names when they "under perform" so being a Chinese mother to them is pretty much out of the question.