Singing Her to Sleep

I sang Big C to sleep tonight.  “Baby Beluga” the classic Raffi song, in fact. It’s the kind of song that you can just sing over and over.  And we did that many a night when she was a babe.  Sometimes I’d be walking her while she was in the ergo.  Or we’d bounce her on the yoga ball.  There were countless nights when we sang that song until she fell asleep.  But’s it’s been years since then.  She’s now a kid, who goes to sleep in her own bed rather than our arms.  But tonight, I sang her to sleep.  And I had to choke back tears a few times because it’s been a hard few months at our house.  And I haven’t been the mother I’m always striving to be.  I’ve been just hanging on.  Doing the best I can.  Gritting my teeth through bedtime.  Deep breathing to keep from yelling, or crying, or storming off.  But not tonight.

Not tonight.

Tonight I was with her at bedtime.  Fully there.  Listening, hugging, snuggling.  She asked me for a story and for the first time in many months, I made one up on the spot.  And I watched as it soothed her.  It nourished her with just what she needed right then.  Oh, it was so good.  Not to be telling a story because I read on some blog that that’s what I should do.  But just to be telling her a story because it felt right.  Because we were in the moment together and forces bigger than just her and I helped us flow with it all.

When it was time to turn out the light, she said she couldn’t sleep because it was too light.  When I asked her how I could help, she said “sing me a song.”  So I did.  And I rubbed her feet.  And I wasn’t just going through the motions as I have been for so many bedtimes these last few months.  I enjoyed it.  I felt myself returning from a dark journey to a sad place.

And I now know better than to think that every night can be like this.  And somewhere I know that I am enough as a mother, whether I’m gritting my teeth through bedtime or blissing out on the connection with my wee ones.  It’s all a part of it.  But damn, it’s so good when you get the bliss moments.  And I really needed that!

Here is Big C’s story….

The Island of Puppies by Mommy

Once there was a little girl, who was just about your age.  She thought puppies were so cute and every night at bedtime, she wanted to talk to her mommy about them.  Her mother told her that she could visit with puppies anytime she wanted, in her dreams.  So one night, she climbed into her bed, pulled the covers up tight and started to drift off to sleep.  She found herself in a boat, her dream boat.  The boat rocked and rocked her and the little girl drifted of to sleep.  A little while later, she awoke to find she had landed on an island.  And this island was full of teeny, tiny puppies.  They were so cute!  There were all kinds of puppies.  There were black ones and white ones.  Spotted ones and fluffy ones.  The little girl put her hands down and they would lick her and nuzzle her. She picked one up and cuddled it up to her face and it licked her right on her nose.  The little girl had the most fun playing with the puppies.  They ran through the meadow together.  She would throw sticks and they would fetch them but because they were so tiny, the little girl had to help them bring them back.  They went to the stream on the island and splashed in the water and all the puppies would lap up the water with their tongues.  When they got sleepy from all the playing, the little girl and the puppies curled up together under a tree. There were puppies by her feet, puppies on her belly and even one curled up under her chin.  They all napped together in the shade of the tree.  When they woke up, they knew it was almost time for the little girl to go back home so she threw a few more sticks, splashed a few more times and ran back across the meadow to her boat.  When she climbed aboard, she looked back to see all the puppies lined up on the shore watching her go!  She promised she would come back.  She laid down and the boat rocked and rocked her and she drifted off to sleep.  When she awoke, she was in her own cozy bed and Father Sun was beginning to rise.  The little girl told her mother all about her visit to the Island of Puppies.  And she knew she’d go back again that very night!

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I am a product of my culture

I love when I read something that just, on a dime, gives me a whole new perspective on life.  As you know, I have just finished reading Michael Pollan’s Food Rules (which I highly recommend).

Rule #66 just rocked my world.

“Don’t be a short ordered cook.”

In other words, he explains that “eating whatever is being served is generally a good policy” for both kids and adults alike.  And then, this sentence changed my life. . .

“The food industry promotes hyper-individualism in eating-giving people exactly what they want when they want it-because doing so helps them to sell more food.”

Huh.

How many times have I obsessed over this “right” of my children to have what they want?  Reading this sentence was like a breath of fresh air.  Yes!  Yes!  I am not a short order cook!  And ALL of us could benefit from this rule.  How many times have E and I run out after putting the kids to bed for a little treat, when we have a fridge FULL of food!  Realizing that I have been trained to believe that I should eat what I want right when I want to (or what?  The world will end?) is true light-bulb moment.  Immediate relief.  Yes, I will be OKAY if I don’t eat EXACTLY what I want when I want to.  Frankly, at most times, our kitchen overfloweth!  It just might not be what I’m in the mood for!

And while, I do believe it is worth trying to find things that everybody likes, thinking that at each meal, every one in the family would eat exactly what they want is just crazy.  Helping ourselves and our children to be satisfied with what is served (and gee, how about grateful even?) seems like a worthy goal to strive for.

And this whole epiphany has me wondering.  What other messages have I received from my culture that do not serve me?  I really have only acknowledged the ones that Good Girl thought she should.  Like the body image issue for us gals.  That one is a no-brainer.  And I often sit through commercials making snarky comments (Is a bigger tumor better, huh, T-mobile dude who asks the innocent children every night if bigger is better?).  But does that really mean I’m not affected by the images and sounds that flood my living room at night?

Now I’m not so sure.

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Not Equal to the Sum of Its Parts

I’m not entirely sure where I first heard this phrase, but I want to say it was 11th grade AP English with Mrs. Roberts.  And I think it went. . .

“A novel is not equal to the sum of its parts.”

I think this phrase has a lot to offer me. And maybe all of us in this age of information, scientists, studies, media, state standards, and parenting books.

There is something bigger.  Something that can’t always be named, analyzed, quantified and labeled.  It’s there in our homes, how we raise our kids, the kind of food we eat, what kind of people our children are.  No matter how much information we gather, how many small pieces we break something into, how many different ways we analyze it, we are left with something missing.  Unless we realize this.  Science is not the answer.  It’s a tool.  A piece of the puzzle.   The answers lie within us—-HUMANS.  And we cannot possibly be quantified.  Ever.  And we have other tools at our disposal.  Things like intuition, feelings, hunches, perceptions.

I’m realizing this as I read Michael Pollan’s Food Rules.  He is saying basically this same thing about food.  In our current times, we are now relying on scientists and the government to tell us what is the right thing to eat.  And we have attempted to break food down into its smallest parts (protein, vitamins, poly unsaturated fats) and then use that information to feed ourselves correctly.  But he points out that this is only part of the picture.   How we eat, who we eat with, our feelings about what we are eating all play a part.  Similar to how some think that breastfeeding is simply about milk, when it is really so much more.

So, I liked his Food Rules so much, it got me thinking about how this concept of taking a step back from all the data could be applied to so many areas.  And in particular to parenting.  Could we come up with some common sense “rules” that rise above the overwhelming amount of information out there about how to raise the perfect child?

It starts with realizing that our children are so much greater than all the “parts” we try to do perfectly….

*they are more than the diet they eat.

*they are more than where they sleep.

*they are more than bottle-fed versus breastfed.

*they are more than where they go to school.

*they are more than gentle discipline or time outs.

*they are more than vaccinated or not.

Michael Pollan takes his rules from common sense and from history.  I say we do the same.  Applying his logic, people have been raising children for thousands of years and we all wouldn’t be here if they didn’t so something right.

And perhaps we should start by asking our grandparents. . .

(I feel I must share that I was inspired by this post by one of my favorite writers.  After reading it, I went to put Big C to bed and my mind was just spinning!)

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We survived Noro 2013

12 days after the first projectile vomit and I finally feel its safe to say it’s over.  And part of me wants to write about how terrible these last two weeks were.  How our life has been turned upside down by the worst stomach virus I’ve ever seen.  How I just can’t get anything done!

And yet.

There is a part of me, whose voice is soft and gentle, calmly reminding me that not everything has been terrible.  In fact, most of the past two weeks hasn’t been terrible at all.  And yes, I did have three people barfing at me at one point.

And yet. . .

There were countless grocery runs made for us by a dedicated grandma.  There were hours upon hours of snuggles and movies.  There were mid-day naps in the living room.  There were friends offering advice, answering my early morning call.  Friends bringing flowers (man, those tulips really made my day!).  There was a kind nurse talking me through things over the phone.  And soup from a dear friend today, when I still just don’t feel up to cooking.

And even though there were many times when I thought I might lose my mind, I just can’t deny that there were so many times I had to just sit back and acknowledge that things were actually pretty damn good.  I am so thankful for my washing machine!  And hot water!  And bleach!  And what about the luxuries of baths, Netflix, cozy beds, ginger ale, and toilets that flush?

And in the bigger picture, in light of news of people in my circle who are facing much bigger challenges than a little Norovirus, there was always the knowledge that it would end.  Yes, certain moments sucked but we knew it was temporary.  Health would return.

My motto in the beginning, before I got sick, was “All you know is now.”  It was a bit terrifying to listen to my family dealing with this and imagine what was coming my way.  I just kept focusing in on the now.  It was surprising to me how many times I would do this little check in only to discover that “now” was really quite nice.  Like the whole family hanging out in the living room, reading books.  Or laughing with the girls over a part of our new favorite movie “Totoro.”  Or having our Daddy home with us all week.

While I wouldn’t wish this illness on my worst enemy (and I won’t let anybody in my house for a few more weeks or at least until I finish my coat of bleach on everything) I just don’t think I can say that this family illness has been all that terrible.

Imagine that!

 

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Finding Little Good Girl…

I am in search of my animal totem as of late.  Does that sound weird?  Good Girl would probably say yes.  Me?  I think it rocks!  When I was in high school, I had an amazing teacher, Mr. Moore.  He taught two electives.  Environmental Studies I and II.  I’m thinking that right now in this moment, that was my favorite class in high school.  (Good Girl’s was Mr. James’ Writing class. . . because he was so good at telling us all the things we SHOULD do to succeed in the world!)

Anyways, one of Mr. Moore’s assignments was to find and visit a Nature Spot on a regular basis.  And the whole idea of this Nature Spot was that you sit there in total stillness, become one with the spot so that Nature (in whatever form-a squirrel, a deer) would feel at ease to show herself to you.

In 2013, it is one of my intentions to find my nature spot.  And then visit it often.  Hand in hand with that is welcoming in my animal totem.  From what I’ve read thus far, it seems that you can have one or several animal totems. Or certain animals might appear at certain times in your life to represent that present moment’s needs.  Well, I’ve not done a whole lot of action to discover my totem.  But I’m finding that it’s not really about doing, it’s about being open.  And since I began to read of this, I’ve been open to the idea that certain animals might have a message for me.

And there is no denying it, I’m getting a pretty strong message this month.  Loud and clear!  It started with a visit to the aquarium.  I made sure we didn’t miss my favorite part, which is the feeding of the sea otters.  I absolutely LOVE watching them.  And wouldn’t you know, a good place to start in seeking out your animal totem is to just pay attention to what you are drawn to.  Okay, for you skeptics, who are thinking “so what, you love watching sea otters, how can this have some deeper meaning to your life”  what about what showed up in my mailbox this month?  Our Ranger Rick Jr. and just who should be on the front cover and the subject of the feature story?  That’s right, the otter.  I turn on OPB, what do I see?  A story of Yellowstone’s river otter family.  This morning, Big C has on PBS kids and who is chatting with the Cat in the Hat and Sally?  You guessed it, an otter!  These are just a few examples among a plethora of ways the otter is making itself known to me.

And that leads me to where I started, finding that child in me.  Rediscovering the child-like qualities that will help me on my current path to finding peace, joy and connection.  You see, according to my book on animal totems, here is what otter could mean to me…

“If otter has surfaced in your life, it may be time to find some play time. Involve yourself in some creative activity.  You do not have to be good at it, just have fun with it…Honor otter and it will teach you not only how to have fun, but it will reawaken a new sense of wonder at life and all things in it.”

And one way that I know I’ve stifled this child-like part of me is that often when I think of an idea (especially one that makes me feel excited) I put it off.  Today it occurred to me that children never do this.  When they have an idea or see something they want to do, they drop what they are currently doing and just go for it!  And I know that, as an adult, I don’t always have the luxury to do this literally.  (Imagine, dropping the pan of boiling water to rush off and make a new picture frame for the window sill.)  No, but I can certainly start to honor this part of me that just wants to DO.  Not think about, put it on a list and write it on my calendar for some later time.  But just DO!

So, dear otter, I AM listening.  Today, I had an idea for a new wall hanging in my kitchen (it came to me while in the shower).  I got dressed, ran a brush through my hair and went to it.  I gathered what I would need, wrote my beloved quote on my beautiful paper, took the old picture out of the frame, measured, nailed and hung it up.  (It didn’t all happen so linerally….there were several interruptions, like a call for ice water to the sick child, help with the putting on of some pants for the toddler, a phone call.)  Every time I’ve walked through the kitchen, seeing it has made me smile.  And it was FUN to just do it!  Not clean up and THEN do it.  Not declutter and THEN do it.  Not write it on a to-do list and THEN  do it.  Not put it on the calendar for next week’s grandma day when I’ll have some time to myself and THEN do it.

I just did it.

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The Void

What’s there, if it’s not Good Girl’s voice?  Today, I’m finding that it’s not much. And yet it’s everything.

Big C has the stomach flu. She and I were up  most of the night.  I finally got a few hours of sleep from about 4-7. Only I made the mistake of crawling in bed with the 2 and 1/2 year old so that sleep was broken.  I stumbled from the bedroom, bleary eyed to discuss with E our plans for the day.  After thinking about it, I realized that now that Good Girl isn’t in charge, I have no problem functioning on severe sleep deprivation.  Good Girl would be fighting the whole thing, putting up a big stink!  I looked for that reaction.  Really, I waited for it.  I even started to tell E that yes, I would go back to bed and he could stay home for a few hours this morning.  But it wasn’t there.

So, I’m sitting here mid-afternoon.  Two children are asleep.  Barfing seems to have abated.  Still in my pj’s.  I’m sipping chai and eating chocolate chips right out of the bag.  And I’m just sitting. Looking out my back windows, watching the birds.  And realizing that I’m A-OK.  Today we’re doing puke.  Maybe tomorrow we’ll be doing puke.  Who knows?  But now that The Voice has cleared, there is space.  Space for what’s right in front of me.  A quiet moment at my table with a yummy warm drink, the sound of the washing machine humming in the background and this feeling that I’m doing just what I meant to do. A little bit of nothing.

Don’t you see how that is everything?

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Lessons from “kid-writing”

 

Big C is into writing these days.  At first she would ask me how to spell certain words.  Then it would be strings of words.  Then it was sentences.  How do you write “thank you for the twirly dresses!”?

 

I started telling her the letters.  But when we graduated to sentence level this became quite exhausting and frankly a bit annoying.  When I first suggested to her that she write it how she thinks it might look, she was MAD!  And I knew I had a little “me” on my hands.  So I told her the story of one of my former Kindergarten students and kid-writing.  And I think there is a lesson in this story for me and for Good Girl.

 

My student (let’s call her Mary) was a very bright child.  Already a  reader and a writer upon entering kindergarten, she could turn out a story with amazing illustrations daily.  And yet, every day for the first few months of school, this child would literally be a screaming mess when her mom dropped her off.  In retrospect, I see that she was just a tiny little Good Girl in the making.  Her expectations for herself FAR outweighed her tiny five-year old body and soul.  Already!

 

 

When I told Big C the story of Mary, I left out the screaming fits and focused on how Mary always wanted her writing to be like a grown up’s—you know, the RIGHT way.  So I had to teach Mary the secret of “kid-writing.”  In my reality, this did not actually go well.  It was too late for poor Mary.  But for Big C, I can still catch this window before the door on anything but perfect has totally shut.  I explained that kids don’t write like grown ups because….that’s right, they are kids!  I showed her examples of what kid-writing can look like (scribbles, symbols, shapes, letters and even some words that start to look like grown up  writing).  Big C was in!  And since we are Waldorfing it around here,  I didn’t really even go into the whole sounding out a word and writing the sounds you hear.  We’ll get there all in good time.

 

And thinking about my battle with the SHOULDS as of late, has me reflecting on the value of kid-writing.  See for Mary, the secret to her learning more, would have been to let go of the product.  She actually had to “regress” to move forward.  And this is where I find myself.  By insisting on perfect from myself each day, I’m shutting out the lessons, the learning, the progress that can me made if I would only let go.  As I’ve said before, I am not the parent who needs to read 20 blogs on how to have discipline for myself.  This only  feeds my little Mary.  I am the one who needs a little kid-writing.  My days need to look a little messier for a while.  A little less grown up, less perfect. I need to engage in the process and forget about the product.

 

I think that is where I will find the joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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She’s baaaaaa-aaaackk…..

I’ve been trying to ignore it.  My body has grown stiff in the denial.  I’ve become snappish.  Cranky.  Prone to waking up angry.  As in before I’m even fully awake, the anger, not only awake but crackling with intensity.

What is IT?  I’m not sure, entirely.  See above, I’m in denial.  But when I feel it coming, I have certain tactics that my brain and body employ.  Slowly, I become less and less flexible until finally I snap.

Many things run through my mind.  Good Girl is extremely uncomfortable with all these feelings.  She wants perfection and she pines for the days of last week.  Remember, when the girls were happily engaged in your developmentally appropriate hand work?  Remember how you made three amazing meals a day?  Remember when you were so okay in your skin that you just flowed through your days with ease?  She wants that all back.

But it’s not here.  What is here is some anger.  Some angst.  Some isolation.  Sometimes I feel like I’m not fit to be doing what I’m doing and I should just throw in the towel, get a job and send the girls off to school/daycare.  This is the worst.  Its cuts at my core like a knife.

Sometimes I grow tired of always feeling like I’m doing the exact opposite of everybody else (and this is not true, it’s just how it feels).  Sometimes I wish I could just be like everybody else.

 

Sometimes the needs of two small people are so intense that I feel like I can’t breathe or think straight.  And on top of that, I’m thinking that it’s all my fault they are so needy.

 

Sigh.  Groan.  Ugh.

 

I think I can trace my steps back, through the past few days, weeks, maybe even month.  Slowly but surely, the SHOULDS have made their way back into my life, in a big way. Only, much like ants, they were so small and inconsequential, I didn’t really notice at first.  Or they were just so sporadic that it was no big deal.  But today, I looked behind the kitchen wall, so to speak, and there is a colony of SHOULDS taking up residence in my very soul!

 

I remember the day I realized something pretty amazing about myself last summer.  In almost every waking moment of my life (as in literally, the moment I awake it starts) The Voice in my head demands “What should I do?”  Not in a carefree, curious, “hey, let’s have fun, what should we do today?” kind of way?  More like a panic ridden hammered out demand.  What should I do?  With the assumption, of course, that there is a RIGHT ANSWER to that.  Or more like “What should I do. . . (to be perfect)?”

 

And without me even realizing it, this steady, relentless, beating of self-punishment is back.  In full force!

 

The antidote is clear.  Thank goodness.

 

 

“What do I want?”

And I mean, down to the little tiny decisions.  Like when do I want to get out of bed.  Do I want to lay there for a few minutes or get right up?  Do I want to make a big breakfast?  Or would I rather make peanut butter toast?

 

 

I think the reason this becomes tricky is that wants can turn into shoulds on the sly.  I keep believing its a want and yet it has shape-shifted.  A few weeks ago, I truly wanted to make some diet changes.  It felt good, in the flow.  But that doesn’t mean in two weeks, I STILL want that.  It’s worth a check in.  Instead, I just plow ahead with this new set of SHOULDS that arise from it all.  Good Girl is addicted to things she sees as perfect.  A new cookbook and some new diet rules feeds her addiction.  Without knowing it, my mind has created a new contract about food.  But is that what I want?  Not at the expense of joy.  Of connection with my family and friends.  Of peace.

It’s been a long day of cleaning up ant carcasses.  I’m tired.  But I feel relieved.  The house is trashed, crap island has become crap mountain, and yet I know I’m on the road to recovery.  Perhaps a little more joy will greet me tomorrow morning as I lay in bed and wonder “what do I want today?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Snow!

DSC_0086Sometimes life gives you just what you need, right when you need it!  We were all cooped up in the house this morning, shades firmly drawn.  I was plodding through the routine…..breakfast, vitamins, dress children, get a bill ready for the mail all while trying not to lose my patience.  We were all up sub-6 here.

Then I opened the blinds.  Snow was falling.  Big huge chunks of snow!  Around here, we are lucky to have one snowfall a year.  And it never lasts more than a few hours on the ground.

We threw on our boots, coats, hats and mittens and away we went.  We ran around the yard, laughing and trying to catch snowflakes on our tongues.

Thank you Mother Nature (and Old Mr. North Wind) for a little gift to our spirits today! As I write this, I have two little naked sprites running about after a warm bath to warm up their little red toes.

And now, back to my grind.  Only it doesn’t feel so much like a grind anymore.  And we will be doing a snow dance in hopes that it will continue to fall, at least little bit longer!

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We’re There. . .

 

 

 

This is going to be a braggy post.  I’m feeling good, not Good Girl good, just REAL good!   So get ready!  I’ve had more vegetables in the past 6 days than I did for the entire Halloween to New Year’s stretch!  I am in rare form!

 

 

E and I have always loved the movie Dumb and Dumber (well, maybe we don’t anymore, it’s been a while since we’ve had a viewing).  Regardless, we’re pretty sure you can use a Dumb and Dumber quote to sum up just about any basic life scenario. Remember when Lloyd and Harry arrive in Aspen, shivering and with snot frozen to their faces?  Yes, that’s right….they say “we’re there!” And that’s how I feel today!  I want to shout from the roof tops “We’re There!”

 

 

As I made dinner tonight, I thought “I’m getting this.”  And I remembered that many times over the past 10 years or so that I’ve been pursuing healthier eating this thought has come to me.  Good Girl gets down about this.  She thinks that because someday I will be making even better food and then think “I’m getting this!” it negates the positive of this current moment of “getting it!”  Did that make any sense?  No, well try where I went next!  I realized that there have been many moments in my life where I have learned a new skill and thought “I’m getting this.”  In fact, you might venture to say that I’m ALWAYS getting it!  Or at least frequently in my life, I’m getting it!  What a lovely thought! When you put it that way, life is pretty damn good!

 

So, as you may have guessed, we are working on what some call New Year’s resolutions around here.  Only we are NOT calling them resolutions and there are no hard and fast rules.  This current diet overhaul is not under Good Girl’s supervision.  Just the real me and my family trying to find some middle ground so we can all be a bit healthier and feel better.  And for the first time in many years, my diet overhaul doesn’t have much to do with losing weight.  Another reason, I think it’s working so well, I might add.  While I surely wouldn’t cry if I lost a few pounds, that is not my main reason (or even close) for making some changes.  Mostly, I just want to feel better!  And I want my family to feel better!  So we are eating lots of veggies. And a lot less sugar, dairy and bread.  Nothing is off-limits. (So when those delightful sea-salted caramels arrived (thank you MP!) I didn’t freak out!  And I mean really, what is better than a glass of red and a salted caramel?)  It’s more about adding in things I want to eat more of, rather than limiting myself.  And guess what, when you are full of quinoa, sautéed veggies and fried eggs, you just don’t feel the need to reach for that chocolate (okay, for reals, maybe you just eat ONE piece, rather than the whole box!).

 

My diet changes have led to a few others that make me want to climb a mountain and sing like Maria too!  Years ago, when we were the new parents to just one little munchkin, we had some friends I really admired.  They were telling us about how their daughter was an early riser. Each morning, when she stirred, the two of them would look at each other and decide in that moment who would get up with her.  I was amazed at this.  Back then, Good Girl was fully in charge of my mothering and my marriage. I would rant and rave at Eric about the plight of motherhood.  I would carry tallies in my heads of which one of us had done more “work” and which one deserved a break.  I was always arguing my case to him.  I literally could not imagine just having a simple, honest conversation about who was the more logical parent to get up with the child IN THAT MOMENT.  But when our friends told us this, I knew I wanted to strive for that.  I knew that was loving.  I knew that was a team.  And I knew E and I had it in us!  And to be fair, E always had it in him.  It was me and Good Girl who needed some help.

 

 

Flash forward to this week.  E had some time off work. When we started making plans for how to spend it we both discovered that we had each planned to give the other a whole kid-free day.  Sweet, right?  And so, I’m feeling good.  This is not Good Girl’s style.  She would have been building her case for why SHE deserved a kid-free day.  (And maybe would have wasted one whole day of the vacation stewing).  Instead, things are different around here.

And it’s nice.

 

 

Sometimes one of us is literally so tired he/she is falling asleep.  The other steps in. There is no tally.  There is no “you shouldn’t have done x, y or z then you wouldn’t be so tired.”  Sometimes, I’m at my breaking point (the verge of saying horrible things to little people) and E just steps in and takes them for a bike ride. Or E wants to check out a football game so I do bath, even though it’s not “my night.”  And if he is home early enough, he often takes the girls outside while I prep dinner.

 

 

Is parenting hard? Yes. But I was making it so much harder with my rules, tallies, and 10 point treatises on how much more I deserved because I am the mother.  It is so refreshing to just take each moment as it comes and KNOW we’ve got each other’s backs. And so, in another way, I feel that “we’re there!”

There you have it, life IS pretty damn good!  I think I’ll go have a caramel!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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