Something has changed in the last two weeks.  Well, that’s not entirely true because everything has changed, but something has changed that I wasn’t really expecting.  My perspective on this stage of life.

Obviously, having one kid gives you the label of ”parent” by default.  I’ve spent a lot of Aaron’s life (mostly the two years I’ve been home with him) wondering where my identity went.  I had a lot of fun and Aaron and I have a special bond, but I was supposed to be changing the world, not sitting at home.  How was I going to travel to Africa and care for AIDS victims when I had a baby to care for at home?  How could I volunteer for a worthy cause when Chris’ schedule is so intense that I can’t make regular commitments because I have a kid to care for at home?  How could I have hobbies and interests when my child was so active and needing so much attention?  I didn’t want to be “just” mommy.

I’m a good mommy.  Aaron is well-cared for and we have a lot of fun together.  I’ve enjoyed almost every moment with him.  But there has always been this loss of identity that I’ve felt quite strongly at times.  I always felt like I needed to be doing something and have rebelled against the domestic things that probably would have made my life easier and given me more free time – meal planning, organizing the house, having some sort of schedule, and the discipline to make it all work. 

The last few years were made harder with the moving we did.  I have a great friend in PA from the year we were there, but it was a tough transition from working mom to stay-at-home-mom in the middle of nowhere with a husband who works all the time.  This last year back in MI has been odd because with the move and the pregnancy ills I didn’t really go out of my way to make friends, though I have managed to meet some people and get to know them a little.  (Maybe this year will be the year the Christmas tea party makes a comeback.)  In all of the shuffle I felt like I got lost, too.

But, I suddenly don’t feel that way anymore.  Now, it could be the sleep-deprivation and the help that I’ve had in the last few weeks and will continue to have for a while.  I just feel at peace with being a mother.  Taking care of my family, managing the boys and the house, the challenge in making it all work. 

It is noticable to me considering the thing I’ve been struggling with for two years is suddenly not a concern anymore.  And I credit baby Carson for that.  The pregnancy was so difficult, especially with a toddler, and I had so much else on my mind that whole time that I didn’t realize how much I wanted him.  There was this feeling of “oh yeah, we’re having another kid” and then the panic that had set in when I thought about how hard it’s been to be a “single parent” to one kid at times.  I was so focused on how hard it was all going to be that I forgot to think about how much I might love it.

Now that he’s here I feel amazingly empowered to have two kids.  I know why.  Before I got pregnant I was having trouble with Aaron and told God to only give me another kid if he was going to give me the strength to get through it.  I have great, dear friends who are praying for me.  My mom stayed for a few weeks to play with Aaron and help out around the house.  Amazing moms from MOPS are bringing meals.  And in the shelter of those gifts I feel like I’m finding my identity again.

I’ll go to Africa again, maybe next time with my kids.  Maybe I will write a book someday.  I can volunteer next year.  Right now, I’m finally happy where I am.

The last week has been crazy.  We did a lot of fun things, but Chris has been out of town since Saturday so it’s just been me and the kid for most of the time and I’m ready for some quiet.

One thing I realized over the last week is that Aaron is never quiet and he’s never far away from me.  Seriously, the kid is either talking or crying or whining.  He has an incredible imagination so he never runs out of things to talk about.  Two days ago he decided that we were characters from one of his favorite TV shows, Dragon Tales.  He is Cassie, the small pink dragon, and I am Ord, the large, blue, clumsy dragon.  He calls me “Ord” any chance he gets, even if he has nothing to say and just wants to make sure I know that I’m Ord.  Last night we adopted two imaginary cats named Donut and Bagel that we talked about for at least an hour.

We went to visit some friends for a few days in Indianapolis and that’s where I really realized how loud he is.  They have a new-ish baby and I could not get Aaron to be quiet.  I guess I always thought that if I told him he had to quiet down that he would listen to me, even if there isn’t any reason for him to be particularly quiet in our house.  Nope.  As we were getting ready for bed one night I said, “Aaron, you don’t need to talk all the time.”  He said, “Why, Mommy?  Talking is fun!”

In addition to our trip to Indy (which I shall try and describe in a different post at a different time because I learned a lot about Aaron), we painted pottery together for Mother’s Day gifts for grandmas, went to our first movie in a movie theater, and went out for breakfast together.  There were a lot of difficult moments trying to get Aaron to listen to me, but we also had a lot of fun.  I would post some pictures if I had them, but Chris has the camera with him.  Maybe next week I can post some pictures of the golf courses in California and you can imagine that you are also in Palm Springs.  (Though I have no desire to be on a golf course, no matter where it is.)

In other news, since there are other things happening than just dealing with Aaron, this baby is starting to kick a lot.  And I mean a lot.  I remember thinking that Aaron was an abnormally active fetus, and he has remained an abnormally active child.  What if this new little guy is the same way?  I’m going to need energy drinks.  Or a maid.  Or therapy.

Today was so typical I thought I’d let you all in on what happens during a “regular” morning at home.  “Regular” is in quotation marks because there were less temper tantrums and time-outs than usual, but when we spent a half hour watching the neighbor’s cat I couldn’t decide if I hate the monotony or if I should relish in these quiet moments that will be gone very soon.  That’s the story of my life, do I hate it or do I love it…

6:37 – I hear Aaron calling my name over the monitor.  Wonder if I should have woken up before him to take a shower.  Turn on the oven on my way to his room because I’ve recently rediscovered french toast sticks.

7:00 – After snuggling with Aaron for a while in his bed, come out to put french toast sticks in the oven.  Aaron decides that he’s a baby and wants me to carry him everywhere.

7:03 – Burn my finger flipping over french toast sticks.

7:06 – Explain a bazillion times that the french toast sticks have to cool off and eat at 7:15.

7:20 – Aaron sees Chris coming out of the shower and decides that he needs to be naked too.

7:22 – Aaron pees on my bedroom floor.

8:00 – I let Aaron watch TV so that Chris and I can have an actual conversation before he goes to work.  Aaron is naked and has dragged the cat bed into the living room where he sits and stares at the screen.

9:00 – I get Aaron dressed while stepping on a wet spot on the living room floor.  Possibly more pee.  Could be milk.  Move him to my bedroom to watch 30 more minutes of TV so I can get a shower.

9:30 – Finally turn the TV off and have my second breakfast.  I put dinner together in the crock pot and start to feel like I may have accomplished something.  Numerous quiet moments in the living room make me abandon my dinner to retrieve items that toddlers shouldn’t touch, much less run around the house claiming as their own, like the metal shovel from one of my willowtree figurines.

10:00 – Start to feel like I’ve ignored Aaron all day so I give in to his strange requests while we play, like laying on the floor and holding a big book up toward the ceiling as high as I can while we read it (it hurts after a few minutes), putting a blanket over my head and “hiding”, and helping him climb on the chair in his room that is definitely not for climbing.

10:15 – Realize I’m getting hungry.  Ask Aaron if he wants to go to Panera for a snack.  (I’m out of my good coffee and could use a cup along with a bagel.)  Aaron likes the idea, but not enough to get his shoes on.  I decide it’s not worth a show-down just to get a bagel when he probably won’t behave in Panera anyway.

10:45 – Suddenly starving.  It occurs to me that when I was pregnant and nursing last time I had two breakfasts and a sandwich down the hatch by 11:00.  When I break away from the tyke he doesn’t want me to go and throws a toy at me.  Time-out.

10:50 – Put a lean cuisine in the microwave.

11:00 – Start watching the neighbor’s cat roam through our yard.  Aaron is sitting on my lap in front of the window.  Every time I move to get my food out of the microwave he flips out.

11:10 – Finally get to the microwave where my panini sandwich has cooled significantly.

11:11 – Aaron decides he wants to eat my sandwich while we watch the cat.  I ate at least half.

11:17 – Realize that I just ate my lunch.  I did a great job planning dinners this week, just not quite enough for lunches.  The next time I’m really hungry will be during Aaron’s nap, which will leave me the choice of repeating what I had for my second breakfast or heating up some pizza rolls.

11:18 – Wonder why no one with a drive-thru makes a good salad.

11:30 – Stop watching cat so I can get some Tums.  Everything gives me heartburn these days.

11:45 – Decide that there is nothing to eat in the house and need to get something before Aaron goes down for his nap.  McDonald’s it is.

12:00 – In the drive-thru, explain numerous times that I did ask for chocolate milk with the happy meal and we will have it when we get home.

12:10 – Sit down to eat McDonald’s.  Nothing tastes as good as fries and a Diet Coke.  I can’t believe I used to eat this food all the time, much less that I dipped my fries in ranch dressing.  How was I not obese in high school?

12:12 – Realize that this is the third time this week that I had McDonald’s and haven’t taken a vitamin in a few days.  Go to medicine cabinet and get a vitamin.

12:20 – Realize that Aaron has drank his chocolate milk and eaten some of the goldfish crackers I gave him.  So glad I spent $3 on a happy meal.  I should just keep some chocolate milk on hand.

12:45 – Read books.  Five of them, because that is the number of things that Aaron wants every time you ask him how many he wants of any item.

1:00 – He actually goes down for a nap without too much of a fight because Mommy says her tummy hurts too much to lay down with him.  I wonder if these half-truths will catch up to me at some point…

And that’s about where I am right now.  I will spend the rest of naptime cleaning up my house that got trashed this morning, and be in about the same place as when I started the day, just so much more tired.

To put things in perspective, here are some numbers (just estimates) from the morning:

Boo-boos I kissed to “make it better”: 27

Number of times I assured Aaron that I had his chocolate milk: 15

Number of times Aaron ran around the couch naked: 11

Kisses I got on my burned finger to “make it better”: 3

All in all, not a bad morning.

Aaron has become very vocal in the backseat.  He knows that green means go and red means stop.  He knows where to turn to get home from daycare.  He knows where certain stores are.  So if he feels as though Chris or I are not driving appropriately, he will let us know.  How do you explain to a 2-year old that you can turn right on red after you have stopped and made sure there aren’t any cars coming?

Today I was taking a curve on the freeway and was going a little fast.  I had to use the breaks a bit instead of just coasting through.  From the backseat: “Mommy, going too fast?”  From me: “Yes, Mommy was going too fast.”  From the backseat: “Go slower.”

What if my second child doesn’t question my every move?  I’m starting to get used to having to justify my actions to a small person.

I don’t know why I’m so stupid.  I eat cookies and ice cream way too much.  I know it’s not good for the baby.  I know it will give me a stomachache and I’ll feel like crap.  I know it’s just putting on weight that I’ll have to lose in a few months.  So WHY do I do it?  Because I’m stupid.

I’m also stupid because I let Aaron eat whatever he wanted for dinner tonight.  Chris had a bad call day/days and ate his dinner early, so when he got to dessert, Aaron and I hadn’t eaten yet.  Aaron caught on to the fact that daddy was having pudding, which was followed by ice cream, so that’s pretty much what Aaron ate because I didn’t feel like arguing with him about why Daddy was eating ice cream and he couldn’t.  (We’ve been arguing pretty much all day at this point.)  He did later have some noodles, but the damage was done.

So this obviously turned into a huge sugar high which lasted much longer than I had anticipated.  I was mentally exhausted from arguing all day with him and my stomach hurt (because I ate too much – stupid) so the kid basically ran circles around me.  At one point he went over to the videos and grabbed Goonies.  He came up to me and said, “I watch Goonies?” and I gave him the usual, “No, you can’t watch Goonies.”  Then for some unknown reason, except maybe sleep-deprivation, Chris said, “I’ll watch Goonies.”  So Aaron starts running in circles around the couch really fast, singing in a conga-line-type tune: “We gonna get to watch Goonies!”  Over and over and over.  Seriously like 5 minutes.

Then, not too long later, we found the U2 Vertigo tour on Comcast that we went to in 2005 and turned it on.  Chris, sleep-deprived remember, starts dancing around the room and Aaron follows him, imitating whatever he’s doing and talking about “shaking my body.”

Ay, ay, ay.  The kid makes me laugh, but I’m mentally exhausted by noon.

Aaron was playing with some water in my bathroom this morning so I decided just to let him play.  Water dries, right?  So I grabbed a book and sat on the toilet (with the lid down) so I could be there when he would inevitably start making a wet mess.

He looked at me and said, “Mommy, you go poo-poo?’  The rest of the exchange went like this:

Me: No, honey.  I’m just sitting here while you play.

Aaron: You need to squeeze.  (Then picture him crouching down and squeezing his eyes shut.) Squeeze, mommy!

Me: I’m not going poo-poo.  I’m just reading a book.

Aaron: Squeeze!  (Repeated several times with the dramatic facial expressions.)  And then you flush.

Me: Thank you, Aaron.  I’ll remember that.

So, apparently he knows the steps to go poo-poo on the toilet, he just won’t do it himself.

Aaron loves to paint.  We start with the water paints and move to finger paints.  We haven’t had the easel out for a while, but I’m sure it will make a comeback soon.

just-starting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the-evidence

 

In other news, anyone know why I can never seem to get the pictures right in my blog posts?  I set these both to the same size.  Obviously something didn’t work.

Aaron has been better behaved as of late.  Maybe it’s because we’re not going many places these days…

We had a good day today and played a lot this morning.  While we were baking cookies I started to feel crampy and told him I had to lay down.  I stuck a batch in the oven and told him that I was going to rest until the timer went off.  After about a minute of playing on his own he said, “Ding-dong!  OK, get up now!”

I wish I could record the inflection in his voice sometimes.  It’s not always what he says that’s so funny, but how he says it.  I was singing along to a song in a movie when he looked over at me with extreme irritation and said, “Stop!” in a very serious tone.

He’s also gotten very quick to say sorry if he hits us or otherwise causes us harm (like when the random matchbox car comes flying our way) thanks mostly to daycare where they make the kids apologize immediately.  Except that yesterday I was next to him and hit my finger on something and when I said, “Ow” he said sorry right away.  I don’t think he quite understood that he didn’t do anything.

I’m glad my silly little boy is coming back.

Should I start with the reason why I’m scared or tell you how my day is going?  They are both related, but one piece is seemingly benign while the other is maddening.

Let’s start with how my day is going.  I am out of ideas for how to get Aaron to listen to me.  We went to the library today and we happened to get there at storytime.  What a nice surprise.  I told Aaron he had to sit quietly and listen to the teacher.  Wasn’t working.  So I told him we had to leave.  I dragged him out of there while he’s kicking off his shoes and yelling…all the way to the circulation desk to check out our books…all the way to the car…in the rain.  That’s the very short version.  By the time we were driving away we were both crying.

At home I’ve tried everything from time-outs to taking away toys or privileges or sending him to bed early.  When we got home from the library I just left the books in the car (I’ll be damned if I was going to sit on the couch and cuddle with a new book) and told him I was upset that he was naughty, would not play with him, and that he needed to play by himself.  He cried for a few minutes, but I don’t know that this instance has had any lasting impact on him.

I’m not opposed to spanking, per se, but I’m hesitant to start doing it.  I believe that it should be saved for the most severe offenses and that the parent needs to be in full control of their emotions when doing it.  Those two things have never happened to me simultaneously.  I’m afraid that if I start spanking that I will lose perspective on when and how to do it properly.

Sometimes I wonder if I expect too much from him.  He’s a very active and verbal young two-year old.  Because we can carry on complex conversations for a child his age I expect him to understand what I’m saying and to listen to me.  Is that too much to ask?

The seemingly benign piece of news is that I’m having another baby boy.  (Yay!)  Which brings in my fear.  I’m scared that in the short term I’m not going to be able to handle Aaron out in public when he wants to do what he wants to do.  It’s hard enough on me now to wrestle him out of the house in the morning or out of wherever we are that he isn’t listening to me.  I’m five months pregnant; it’s not good for me to be physically engaged and holding my kid down so he doesn’t take off and run away.  How are we ever going to leave the house once I have this baby? 

I’m scared in the long term because if this next one has as much spunk and personallity as Aaron I might literally die.  I’m already tired and overwhelmed and feel like all I do is clean up after Destruct-o. 

Any moms out there with some perspective?  Has anyone actually died from raising a toddler?

Is there a full moon?  Does anyone know?

I’ve been up since 2 am.  Aaron just wanted to be up.  Eventually I tried laying in bed with him but he just kicked me.  Around 4:30 he decided he wanted pancakes.  The day has pretty much been downhill from there.

We had to go to the doctor for a check-up. When it was time to leave he was pretending to be a lion.  I couldn’t get socks on him because, “Lions don’t wear socks.”

Right now he’s been in his room for an hour while I’ve been insisting he take a nap.  He’s been singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs.  My quote of the day is, “Lay down and go to sleep, you insane monkey boy.”

Oops, I take that back.  Now he’s screaming that he’s poopy because he knows I’ll come running.  Oh my.

Did God know what he was doing when he gave me children?  How in the world to people maintain their cool when dealing with 2-year olds?!?!?