I woke up this morning in a foul tempered mood because even though Mikayla slept all night in the crib in the girls room for the first time (a bittersweet victory), she still won't nurse and I'm starting to feel like either my chest has ticking time bombs attached or I'm about to yell, "Surrender!" to my deeply entrenched belief that my children must be nursed for one year at minimum.
So my husband, who is the awesomest man in the whole world, just looked at my tear-filled eyes and suggested that I take a hot shower and see if that would take the edge off of the exploding pain of leftover baby neglect.
And then, as happens to most people in the shower, the sound of the water stirred my creative energy and I found myself ready to start writing on the topic I've been kicking around in my head for months now... sex.
I won't write about it here because it just feels wrong to write about procreation on the blog where I talk about the results of said activity, but I've spent the day thinking and writing about the topic and figuring out what I should write.
My hands are cramping from all of the typing.
Maggie also went to her first birthday party where she was the invited guest instead of Mia. It was a big day. We drove to the party together and I looked at her in the rearview mirror, all far away and small-looking in the back row of the Suburban, and realized that this fantastic child is growing up in front of me and I am so privileged to be a part of it.
Enough said, it was just a sweet moment for me. That, paired with Maggie's decision to give the dolly she's been sleeping with every night to the birthday girl because that was a special gift and her friend should have it, have had me a little emotional this evening.
OK, deep breath, refocus.
After the party we put the girls to bed, with Mikayla in the crib again, which makes me feel like I'm naked and haven't spent enough time cuddling her today. I convinced Isaiah that what he really wanted to listen to soothing music that allowed me to write about the birds and the bees with the dramatic hilarity you've come to expect, he said ok and then fell asleep.
So then I was sitting on the sofa without my baby, my husband asleep and two poodles curled next to my knees tooting happily because I gave them a bath tonight and that's a stress to their little systems which results in gas.
I started to read the blog posts I have open that I had recommended to me from a best mommy blogs competition. And there, right out of the blue, I see this post from Rants from Mommyland.
Here's the excerpt that caught my attention. The author was in Target and ran into a situation with a mom and little girl:
Anyway, there's this mom in the aisle and she is all up close and personal in her daughter's face, like she's looking for an eyelash in her eye or something. And her back is to me, and all I hear is this gritted teeth voice:
"You see those cameras up there? It's only because of them that I'm not spanking you or dragging you out of here. You're such a horrible little girl and I could just leave you here and --"
And then I turned into MEAN KATE and in my all loud-y voice, I say, "Hello!" and she whips around and I see her little angel staring at me all big eyed and totally not sure what's gonna happen.
[Now, I have to digress for a second. I know, all too well, that I have lost my mind with my IHPs. Definitely at home, sometimes in church, probably in Target. Sadly, I still remember one time when I was all up in McGee's grill just like this mom, and this older woman came up to me and gently touched my shoulder and said, really nicely, "just remember, you're all she has in the world…" and then smiled really genuinely and patted me, but not all patronizingly. Which of course made me cry, and that's normally not OK to make me weepy, but it's not like I was gonna do anything about it. Well, I did ask her for a tissue. And just like Mrs. Doubtfire or something, she produced this tissue like out of thin air. Well, actually she had one tucked in the edge of her sleeve, which was so great. And I think that's the law that when you're an old lady you have to tuck tissues in your sleeve, just in case. And that was like 7 years ago, and I still remember everything about that moment, and she was soooooo right and even though I sometimes lose my schmidt, it's never that far. And never will be. Ever again.]
And now, after reading this blog from a stranger I've never read before tonight, I'm weeping. Because so often I forget to look at the world from the perspective of my children.
I think I'm lonely sometimes because I don't have the time to sit down for coffee with my friends?! Or I'm frustrated because I can't have an uninterrupted conversation?! The reason those girls are hounding me is because I'm all they've got. (Well, our family is all they've got.)
I feel like I've just received a great truth.
We're all they've got.
And, in so many ways, they're all we've got.
Oh how I need to cherish them and be worthy of this trust!
That's all. I"m taking my weepiness to bed and away from the tooting Poodles. Goodnight and I hope that this truth for me might be a truth for you as well.
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