trying for a new normal

Yesterday was a perfect day. The sun was shining, the kids were cute, the husband came home early. We played, we worked in the garden, and when the sun went down we ordered Thai takeout. But all those were just a bonus. The real perfection in the day was that it was normal. The kids were mostly cooperative, I was able to head off most tantrums (and able to patiently handle the ones we couldn't avoid), and for a day I caught a glimpse of beautiful normalcy.

And it made me feel sad.

I remember when days like yesterday were the norm for me rather than a pleasant and fleeting moment. I have been floundering for so long that I had forgotten what it felt like to enjoy mothering, and that made me sad. There was a time when my life was pure joy, mothering was pure joy. Most days were mundane but wonderful. I was so blissfully happy to be at home with my baby, enjoying the perfection in a normal day.

For a long time now though I haven't enjoyed mothering. Parenting a child like Squeak is hard work, and most days the hard work overshadows the moments of joy. I've felt this way for a few years but have only recently begun to accept and acknowledge it out loud. I don't have a diagnosis for Squeak (that's for another entry) but I finally acknowledge that he is atypical, and I am overwhelmed most of the time.

I chide myself for struggling so much when things could be so, so much worse. In terms of "atypical-ness," we got off pretty easy. No physical disabilities, no mental disabilities. Just a few emotional ones. Why can't I be grateful for what I have? Why can't I get it together and deal with it gracefully like so many moms who have it harder do?

I mourn for the life I feel I should have had with a typical child. I mourn for the children I wanted to have but never will because I'm beyond my limit. I mourn for the days that should be blissfully normal, and I mourn for the mothering experience I should be having.

But I also rejoice because in spite of it all, even though I am not enjoying mothering lately, I am enjoying my children. I love them so wholly and immensely. Even while I doubt myself, and I struggle to get through each day, I thank God that I have these two amazing souls with whom to spend my days. Even in the midst of the worst, most tumultuous storm, my love for them never wanes. And it gets me through the days.

And I hope it will be enough.

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heal

I've been seeing a naturopath to deal with some of my issues. I've been targeting my migraines and skin issues specifically, but in trying to heal those I've had to dig deeper. Healing my relationship with my son. Trying to learn how to manage my stress and emotions. Working through resentments and baggage from my childhood. It feels like therapy.

Which is weird because my naturopath is about 3 years older than me, and it feels uncomfortable to be so vulnerable with someone who doesn't seem old enough to be a professional. But then I realize I'm not as young I think I am. It's been a weird realization for me as I've been seeing new dentists, orthodontists, dermatologists, family doctors, and of course naturopathic doctors. And they have all seemed so very young to me, at most only several years older than myself. As the younger sister and younger wife I am used to being younger. I perpetually feel younger than everyone I associate with.

That was a tangent. The point is, I'm getting better. Or, maybe not yet, but I will.

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Honesty. Startling.

For as beautiful and sunny of a day as it is today, I am uncharacteristically sad. I know this blog seems depressing of late. Apparently that's what this blog has become; when I am happy with life and feeling joyful and grateful, I write in my family blog, for all to read (or, more realistically, I don't write at all. I just get up and enjoy my day!). When I feel down, or honest, I write here.

I feel like being totally honest today...

negative nancy

My blog has threatened to take over and start writing itself if I didn't hurry and post something (and it assured me in no uncertain terms that I would not like what it had to say), so here I am. Obligatory? Maybe, but beggars can't be choosers, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all that shtuff.

I'm an Oregonian now, and about 2 hours ago, when I first attempted to sit down and spit out a blog post, you probably would have gotten a post akin to an Oregon travel brochure: it's so green and beautiful (it is), the weather is temperate (actually I'm sitting inside with the screen door open and bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants...), farmer's markets almost every day of the week totally ROCKS (it does), my backyard is a garden wonderland (also full of mosquitos, flies, ants, and spiders), we have a hot tub (that has cost us roughly 3.2 million dollars to get up and running...), and we love everything about being here. However, I have dealt with some truly despicable people today and I am now really grumpy. So you get the Grinch version of the story of our relocation.

The (terrible) moving company underestimated our shipment size and so they ran out of room on the moving van. We have now been waiting on a kitchen table and other "nonessentials" for over two weeks, with no delivery date in sight... Also, my beautiful blown-glass pitcher we bought in Mexico on our honeymoon was shattered in the move. And my George Foreman grill broke. And I'm missing a box including a silk plant and who knows what else (since the movers so helpfully labeled boxes with very descriptive markings such as, "storage items," and "garage items"). Also, they totally scratched up our bookshelves, but because they had them wrapped in their blue blankets when they carried them inside, I didn't notice until after they left. So, awesomely, they got away with it! And, they left black marks all over the carpets we had had professionally cleaned the night before.

The (horrible) company that the (terrible) moving company contracted out to set up our washer and dryer didn't do their job! When we ran our first load of laundry in 2 weeks, the washing machine basically danced across the floor, tearing up the laundry room flooring! Awesome. We then had a load of half-washed clothes (because I had to turn it off during the spin cycle or risk more dancing washer maneuvers) sitting in our washer for a week! Yay mildew smell! How I love you!

The (no good) previous owners of this house "forgot" to disclose (on that little old legal document aptly entitled "Seller's Disclosure Statement") that the dryer vent that runs under the house is actually full of water and not venting properly (or at all). And while we're on the subject, not one but two (very bad) house inspectors didn't notice this small problem either! I'm so glad we paid all that money for them to (not) do their jobs!

The (no good) previous owners of this house also lied about the hot tub being in working order. And their very very honest realtor is doing a nice job corroborating their story and covering for them in her very skilled Legalese.

Meanwhile, our crappy internet, which claims to be uploading at speeds of 7 mgps, keeps freezing up on me (and won't let me view pictures on facebook, which, let's face it, is one of the main reasons to have the internet these days!). And half the time Netflix doesn't work. Luckily we are cancelling this piece of poo and getting Comcast in a few days.

Also meanwhile, my kids are going bonkers and I have had it with tantrums.

Welcome to Oregon, suckers.

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Providential

So I've been working on purging, organizing, and deep cleaning our house since about Christmas time. I just felt nudged to simplify.

Little did I know that I was also preparing for a move.

Husband's work has asked us to move; we have accepted. We will list our home for sale next week and we will move in June or July. Remember last time I wrote, oh about a month ago, and I asked if anyone in the northwest wanted to trade their smaller home for mine? Well while we haven't found anyone with whom to trade homes, we are indeed going to the northwest, and we are indeed going to be downsizing when we move.

Apparently, I am just full of prophetic insight lately.

cinderella

I've decided my house is too big. I am getting really tired of (feeling guilty about not) cleaning it. 2000 square feet is a lot of house for four people. All those square feet add up to way too many baseboards, door frames, door paneling, outlet and light switch plates, walls, bath tubs, toilets, sinks, countertops, cupboards, floors, ceiling fan blades, and window tracks to scrub.

Anyone wanna trade houses? Specifically, anyone with a cozy farmhouse west of the Cascade Mountains wanna trade? Come on over to beautiful Utah and clean my three stories, four bedrooms, and four bathrooms! BONUS! You can keep my (smelly, hairy, wonderful) dog!

I'm sort of joking.

You can't have my dog.

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Pulling my hair out

So remember how in my last post I credited "1-2-3 Magic" for the recent decrease in yelling at my house?

Yeah. In reality it was the flu.

Now that Squeak is feeling better again, his misbehaviors have returned, and believe it or not I think they used his sick body as a host and multiplied! Either that or he is feeling the need to make up for how calm and cooperative he was during his illness... He has been worse than ever. And I am really struggling to keep my cool. The main thing that I was loving about 1-2-3 Magic was the practice of "No talking, no emotion." However I am finding it almost impossible to remain emotionless when Squeak's M.O. all day long is the following formula:

1. Run up to Pixie. Flail arms in her face. Make sure she is wailing before running away again.
2. Run up to Pixie. Take whatever toy she is playing with. Play with it for 3.2 seconds, or just long enough to set her off into major tantrum mode. When Pixie is crying sufficiently hard enough to not be calmed, abandon toy, throwing it across the room.
3. Follow Pixie anywhere she goes to escape the torment. If possible, follow her with a chair, trashcan, or laundry hamper closely nipping at her heels or pushing her from behind. The more annoying physical contact the better!
4. Play with a toy. Leave Pixie alone to play with a different toy. Give Mommy the false sense that she can leave the room to load the dishwasher. As soon as Mommy walks out of the room, abandon toy and take Pixie's. Repeat step 2. When Pixie, instead of throwing yet another tantrum about her stolen toy, goes to take the toy you abandoned, freak out at her, screaming, "I was PLAYING with that toy! I HAD IT FIRST!" Take said toy away from Pixie.
5. When Mommy sends you to time out for screaming and yelling and taking toys, hit her in the face. When she increases your time out and sends you to your room, pick up the nearest hard toy and throw it at Pixie.
6. Try your hardest to get your Mommy to kill herself and you.
7. Repeat steps 1-6. All day long. Ad nauseum.

I don't know what to do about him. Is having more than one kid supposed to be this hard? I expected the occasional (and even often) sibling scuffle. I didn't expect the constant pestering. I can't handle it.

And because I am in a horrible and complaining mood, I'll add my other frustration. Pixie's constant nursing. It is out of control. She is nursing more frequently than she did as a newborn, by far. It is really all day long. She is up and down and up and down, in and out of my lap, asking for nursies. ALL.DAY.LONG. AND she is waking up every 1-2 hours at night suddenly, wanting to nurse. As soon as she's not sick anymore, the night-weaning is ON. And hopefully once I am sleeping through the night once more I will have more patience to deal with being a mother.

But for today... Stick a fork in me, I AM DONE.
(sadly...really, really sadly...it's only 10:45 am. And my dear husband doesn't get home tonight until after the kids are in bed. It is going to be one loooooooooooooong day.)

Final Score = Mom: 2; Kids: 4,377,985

In Competition: Clean House, Me vs. My Kids, they always win. And I'm just about ready to throw in the towel for good.

(this is really just a *teensy* smattering of the mess my kids have made this morning)

On Monday, I spent the ENTIRE day doing damage control. I did 6 loads of laundry (and still had 2 more leftover), I did 2 loads of dishes (and still had a sink full), I swept the kitchen floor 5 times. I took the trash out 3 times. I menu-planned and made a grocery list. I bathed the kids. I made banana-chocolate chip bread. We took a trip to the pumpkin patch and had Family Home Evening. I was seriously super-woman. Yesterday, we were out all day: preschool, library, grocery shopping, errands, Halloween carnival. And SOMEHOW... today the house looks like ground zero again.

101 in 1001

Have you heard of the Day Zero Project? Procrastinator me, I'm doin' it. It's a list of 101 things I want to do, and will do, in the space of 1001 days. No more saying "Someday..." I'm doing it all now.

The writer of this blog received no paid endorsement for this post

I just have to share this amazing discovery I made.

I can't very well go around talking to people in real life about it. People will think I'm some kind of a WEIRDO. I mean, even more than they already do.