Sometimes, I wonder if things go around by chance or just one way that was always meant to be.
I used to like to read horoscopes. I was into the astrology. Not that I lived my life by every printed word, but it was just fun. And I used to research it a little. So, I pretty much know the signs and the personalities associated with it. Jeremy is definitely a Leo. He is definitely a fiery sign. He has the "sunny side up" attitude. Hes generous and very broadminded, even if he is a bit dogmatic. And he likes to be the boss if you want him to be organized. I, on the other hand, am an air sign...I am way too content to sail the opposite way of the crowd. What you think tomorrow, I thought of today! I do have the bad traits...the darkside...I am very unpredictable, I can be chaotic or calm, stubborn or flexible, rebellious or helpful depending on how I feel and what my own senses tell me. This is a sign which can in extremes be totally dedicated to being unconventional, being wired the other way round.This is a sign which can become detached to the point of coldness, stuck in a rigid and unrecognisable pattern. Aquarius has no care for what the world thinks and logically pursues their own set of social values. The isolation this brings is often a surprise, despite the super reliance on other senses, they can miss the obvious. This is so me. I can become detached to the point of coldness and it makes my husband crazy. Then there is Lucas, little baby Lucas, who is a Taurus. He is the definite earth sign of this bunch. He keeps me and Jeremy grounded. I picture that if the Earth ever came to an end, it would be the Taurus that was prepared for it. They would calmly handle it while the rest of us freaked out. Thats Lucas. He is the calm in the middle of our storm: in the rush of conversations between Jeremy and I, the need to pack the diaper bag, lunches, the laptop, cellphone, unplugging the flat iron and curling iron, the dogs meltdowns, my exuberance and meltdowns...there is Lucas, calmly growing in the middle of it. Learning to roll over, learning to push himself up on his hands and knees, looking around at everything. Moving his butt forward as if any second he might just rocket propell across the quilt. With his persistant nature, resistance to change, and love of security, I guess it should come as no surprise that sleep training isn't going so well. Sleep. What is this sleep thing people speak of? I wage wars in my own brain on a daily basis...move him all the way to the other end of the house, and not sleep because I worry the ceiling could crash in and smash my beautiful baby boy, leave him in our room in the bassinet until he goes to college...put him to bed...let him cry it out? Co-sleep? Is there no easy answer? Whatever you choose, you can always find scientific research to reassure you that any other method will screw your baby up for life. My opinion is that different children need different approaches, but this doesnt exactly help when I cant figure out the right approach to my own baby's sleep issues. Wouldnt it just be great to open up the paper and read in his horoscope "Please sleep tonight, all will be well in the morning." But we all know, we cant and shouldnt pigeonhole our kids...hes not on a Taurusean path...hes growing on his accord and taking his own route. Hes not going to excel in a cookie cutter world, and I would be a bad mother to let him think that. He needs to color outside of the lines to grow...and I need to grow with him...in the meantime learning that there is no simple answer to all of the problems this world has. And as a parent, you do what you can for your kids, regardless of what the circumstances leave you with. But at the end of the day, can you live with those consequences? Face the decisions you made and tell yourself that you made the right one? Or will you look back with regret? And wish you had paid more attention to what was in the stars?
Monday, November 20, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Scary Mama...and Halloween is over!
I am sorry I am just now getting to update. This is harder then I thought it would be. Trying to keep up at home, and at work, it makes it hard to keep up with everything else. Anyways, we have a lot to cover, from Halloween to now so, let's get started.
I think I am a Halloween scrooge. Maybe because I am jealous of the parents who have children who are old enough to actively participate. I was excited to get Lucas dressed up as a pumpkin, and seeing as he hasn't gotten any teeth, I decided to go to the Harvest Carnival at church. I don't get any kids at my house because where I live, in a rural area, all of the kids hit the neighborhoods, and I live down a pretty spooky dirt road, that I wouldn't have ventured down for anything when I was of trick or treating age. But, anyways, more to the topic. I don't know why I thought going to a harvest carnival at church was going to be any better. I should have stuck with my original plan of just waiting until next year when Lucas could get in on the hype. First off, there were kids helping with the games, and most of them showed they were bored and frazzled as they handed out arsenic free candy to the winners of the games. The drive over to the church was nerve wracking, and then I get halfway there, and realize I forgot the camera. Which is why I need a digital camera. Its too hard to remember to grab my 35mm, the film, and extra battery. Then you have to get them developed, gosh, I am so straying off topic again! Anyways, I call Jeremy and ask him to please purchase a Kodak disposal camera on his way to meet me at the church. Lucas gets in a nap on the way there, which was good, because hes cranky if hes sleepy. I got to the church, and pulled out the stroller and put him in it. Which, he didn't look thrilled, I should add. I think my Daddy cursed me by telling Lucas he did not want to be a pumpkin. Why cant we just leave it alone?? Why cant babies, boys and girls alike, just be a pumpkin when they are small enough for parents to pick their costumes?? He has plenty of time to be a robot, or a ghost, or superman, or a ninja...or even Jason. Lets just let him be a pumpkin this year!
So, we get into the church, and it was a bad scene: too many kids, most of who were running and tripping over costumes, and weary parents chasing after them. The minute I wheeled Lucas through the door, we were swarmed. And almost immediately, his face scrunches up and he starts to cry. Until I come around to the front of the stroller. There's pandemonium all around us. Parents trying to convince kids to eat a hot dog, trying to persuade toddlers from eating candy. It was insane. In the end, I had to take Lucas out of the stroller. Then Jeremy got there. My knight in greasy, dirty, but nonetheless shining armor. I passed Lucas off to my mother-in-law and wheeled the stroller back to the truck. Jeremy and I went back in and we took turns taking Lucas to each of the games. From the safety of Daddy's arms, he was looking around and just taking it all in, like an entranced audience of a magician. He laughed as we threw barbies through the mouth of a huge wooden whale and I explained the story of Jonah. He watched in awe as Daddy threw bean bags and on the fourth toss finally smacked Goliath in the head and Goliath's head fell off. I didn't tell Lucas that story. He doesn't need to throw rocks. He liked when Jeremy threw the hullahoops over the lions heads. And every elderly person that knew me from my grandmother came up. And I would look at Lucas and I would ask him: "Can you smile at Miss Nancy?" Why, why, WHY do I ask him this? I know hes getting into his shy stage. I know hes going to bury his face in Daddy's shoulder or look anywhere but at the woman trying to tickle a gummy grin from him. Why should he have to smile at every stranger? He doesn't anymore, and I just need to stop asking him. We finished up the night with dinner at Chick-fil-a and a rushed evening at home. No, I didn't want to go, but in the end, I went, and when Lucas is older and looks through his baby scrapbook, he will realize and appreciate my need to get him involved. At least, that's what I hope!
That week was a milestone week for us also, in the fact that we gave him rice cereal when we ate our supper. He loves rice cereal. I think hes going to be like Mama and Daddy: we appreciate good food. We like healthy food, but we like to eat. So, I am instilling now healthy eating habits. We grill or bake our meat, very rarely do I fry chicken anymore. We always have vegetables. Those are the things that will help him later in life. I am a little overweight, so hes predisposed to be that way too. But here is where I have turned into Nightmare, Hideous, Scary, Ugly Mama. He has been waking up screaming around 2:30 every morning. Last Tuesday night, I did not sleep a wink because of that child. And I had a bad cold. Mix that up, and by Thursday, I was feeling just a little bitchy. On top of that, my milk dropped and that scared me. That is a mother's worse nightmare: when her milk drops in quantity. All that crap about quality over quantity doesn't mean dirt. You still worry, you stress, you think if any medical reason why. And sometimes, its just supply and demand. When your child starts eating solid food, hes nursing a little less. And your body adjusts to that. Its normal. But I was still silently panicking. Little did I know, that my first post-pardum period was coming. So, I attribute that culture shock to my unraveling.
If you are feeding Lucas his rice cereal, and that bowl is empty while he is still hungry, he is screaming bloody murder until you shove another spoonful into his mouth. So, Jeremy was in the process of mixing up the cereal, and I was pumping so that Lucas could have my milk in a bottle, and that way, I am aware of about how much he eats in one sitting. In the meantime, Lucas is just screaming. Which is a normal reaction for a hungry teething baby. I guess I just couldn't handle it. And I felt like Jeremy was dawdling with it. So, I very calmly and quietly and menacingly told Lucas to shut up that screaming or I was going to knock him slam out of the bouncer seat. Of course he didn't stop screaming, but the evilness in my voice, hurt my own feelings. And I know as a parent, that happens. But I hate it when it happens. Especially when I had just watched the latest episode of Gray's Anatomy and a young pregnant mother fell and her baby died and she had to give birth to a dead child. It broke my heart. And here I am with a healthy baby boy and I am threatening to throttle him if he doesn't stop communicating to me hes hungry. I just feel awful. I know its a TV show, but those things happen in real life. I guess frustration happens in real life too. I can remember seeing people around me having kids, and seeming so calm and put together, and their houses were clean. And here I am, frazzled, messy house and all wondering how they do it. How do they work 40 hours, and still keep it together?? Let me tell you, I suck at it!
I figure maybe on the outside, I look like I have it together...even though on the inside, I don't. I wonder everyday if I can do this, and if I can do it right...
I think I am a Halloween scrooge. Maybe because I am jealous of the parents who have children who are old enough to actively participate. I was excited to get Lucas dressed up as a pumpkin, and seeing as he hasn't gotten any teeth, I decided to go to the Harvest Carnival at church. I don't get any kids at my house because where I live, in a rural area, all of the kids hit the neighborhoods, and I live down a pretty spooky dirt road, that I wouldn't have ventured down for anything when I was of trick or treating age. But, anyways, more to the topic. I don't know why I thought going to a harvest carnival at church was going to be any better. I should have stuck with my original plan of just waiting until next year when Lucas could get in on the hype. First off, there were kids helping with the games, and most of them showed they were bored and frazzled as they handed out arsenic free candy to the winners of the games. The drive over to the church was nerve wracking, and then I get halfway there, and realize I forgot the camera. Which is why I need a digital camera. Its too hard to remember to grab my 35mm, the film, and extra battery. Then you have to get them developed, gosh, I am so straying off topic again! Anyways, I call Jeremy and ask him to please purchase a Kodak disposal camera on his way to meet me at the church. Lucas gets in a nap on the way there, which was good, because hes cranky if hes sleepy. I got to the church, and pulled out the stroller and put him in it. Which, he didn't look thrilled, I should add. I think my Daddy cursed me by telling Lucas he did not want to be a pumpkin. Why cant we just leave it alone?? Why cant babies, boys and girls alike, just be a pumpkin when they are small enough for parents to pick their costumes?? He has plenty of time to be a robot, or a ghost, or superman, or a ninja...or even Jason. Lets just let him be a pumpkin this year!
So, we get into the church, and it was a bad scene: too many kids, most of who were running and tripping over costumes, and weary parents chasing after them. The minute I wheeled Lucas through the door, we were swarmed. And almost immediately, his face scrunches up and he starts to cry. Until I come around to the front of the stroller. There's pandemonium all around us. Parents trying to convince kids to eat a hot dog, trying to persuade toddlers from eating candy. It was insane. In the end, I had to take Lucas out of the stroller. Then Jeremy got there. My knight in greasy, dirty, but nonetheless shining armor. I passed Lucas off to my mother-in-law and wheeled the stroller back to the truck. Jeremy and I went back in and we took turns taking Lucas to each of the games. From the safety of Daddy's arms, he was looking around and just taking it all in, like an entranced audience of a magician. He laughed as we threw barbies through the mouth of a huge wooden whale and I explained the story of Jonah. He watched in awe as Daddy threw bean bags and on the fourth toss finally smacked Goliath in the head and Goliath's head fell off. I didn't tell Lucas that story. He doesn't need to throw rocks. He liked when Jeremy threw the hullahoops over the lions heads. And every elderly person that knew me from my grandmother came up. And I would look at Lucas and I would ask him: "Can you smile at Miss Nancy?" Why, why, WHY do I ask him this? I know hes getting into his shy stage. I know hes going to bury his face in Daddy's shoulder or look anywhere but at the woman trying to tickle a gummy grin from him. Why should he have to smile at every stranger? He doesn't anymore, and I just need to stop asking him. We finished up the night with dinner at Chick-fil-a and a rushed evening at home. No, I didn't want to go, but in the end, I went, and when Lucas is older and looks through his baby scrapbook, he will realize and appreciate my need to get him involved. At least, that's what I hope!
That week was a milestone week for us also, in the fact that we gave him rice cereal when we ate our supper. He loves rice cereal. I think hes going to be like Mama and Daddy: we appreciate good food. We like healthy food, but we like to eat. So, I am instilling now healthy eating habits. We grill or bake our meat, very rarely do I fry chicken anymore. We always have vegetables. Those are the things that will help him later in life. I am a little overweight, so hes predisposed to be that way too. But here is where I have turned into Nightmare, Hideous, Scary, Ugly Mama. He has been waking up screaming around 2:30 every morning. Last Tuesday night, I did not sleep a wink because of that child. And I had a bad cold. Mix that up, and by Thursday, I was feeling just a little bitchy. On top of that, my milk dropped and that scared me. That is a mother's worse nightmare: when her milk drops in quantity. All that crap about quality over quantity doesn't mean dirt. You still worry, you stress, you think if any medical reason why. And sometimes, its just supply and demand. When your child starts eating solid food, hes nursing a little less. And your body adjusts to that. Its normal. But I was still silently panicking. Little did I know, that my first post-pardum period was coming. So, I attribute that culture shock to my unraveling.
If you are feeding Lucas his rice cereal, and that bowl is empty while he is still hungry, he is screaming bloody murder until you shove another spoonful into his mouth. So, Jeremy was in the process of mixing up the cereal, and I was pumping so that Lucas could have my milk in a bottle, and that way, I am aware of about how much he eats in one sitting. In the meantime, Lucas is just screaming. Which is a normal reaction for a hungry teething baby. I guess I just couldn't handle it. And I felt like Jeremy was dawdling with it. So, I very calmly and quietly and menacingly told Lucas to shut up that screaming or I was going to knock him slam out of the bouncer seat. Of course he didn't stop screaming, but the evilness in my voice, hurt my own feelings. And I know as a parent, that happens. But I hate it when it happens. Especially when I had just watched the latest episode of Gray's Anatomy and a young pregnant mother fell and her baby died and she had to give birth to a dead child. It broke my heart. And here I am with a healthy baby boy and I am threatening to throttle him if he doesn't stop communicating to me hes hungry. I just feel awful. I know its a TV show, but those things happen in real life. I guess frustration happens in real life too. I can remember seeing people around me having kids, and seeming so calm and put together, and their houses were clean. And here I am, frazzled, messy house and all wondering how they do it. How do they work 40 hours, and still keep it together?? Let me tell you, I suck at it!
I figure maybe on the outside, I look like I have it together...even though on the inside, I don't. I wonder everyday if I can do this, and if I can do it right...
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