Happy Birthday Mom

Today, my mother would have been 56 years old. This is the second birthday of hers we’ve missed. Last year at this time, I was pregnant, in New York with Expressing Motherhood and was brilliantly surprised by my entire family. They showed up, we said happy birthday to mom and we saw a little bit of The Big Apple with each other.

I do so miss her.

Happy Birthday Mom.

Working For The Farm

Hayden earned a new toy yesterday. It’s a very special toy, as I found it while searching through my mother’s things in July. My mom always had a stash of new toys to give for presents (more on that in another post), and when I saw this, I knew Hayden would love it. He didn’t get it until 15 minutes before bedtime, because, frankly, I wasn’t just going to give him a new toy for nothing. So he had to work for it. Hayden helped load and unload the washer and dryer, he helped load and start the dishwasher, he went to the grocery store with me, pushing his own little cart, and helped carry those groceries in the house. He helped pick vegetables from the garden, take out the recycles and clean up all of his toys.

Then he got it.

His new favorite toy….for today. The most important thing though, is that he knows Grandma Rose gave it to him.

Publish Post

Her First Day

Well, I did it.

I mean Shelby did it, but I wasn’t really worried about her.

Kindergarten is a success. A huge success.


On the morning of that first day, I held back tears while I packed her lunch, while I made her breakfast, while I brushed her hair and help her put on her uniform. I held back tears on the way to school, on the walk to the campus and watching her wait with soon to be friends. I held back tears as some other kids in the line for her class were blubbering messes and so were their parents. I held back the tears as I continued to give her a thumbs up and a smile when she looked at me in confusion over the other children’s emotions. I even managed to hold back tears as her little brother clung to my leg crying, “I want my Shelby, mom. She’s my best friend. I miss my Shelby!”
I was so proud of her. I was so happy for her. I was so scared for her, because I know what she’s about to get into.

Life.

I managed to hold it all in…….until she turned to walk away.

She was off to her classroom with her new classmates and then, I cried. I couldn’t speak for a few minutes and shortly after, I was alright.

I was ok that day, until I called my Dad to tell him about my independent little girl’s first day of Kindergarten. He said to me,
    “Oh yeah, I remember your mom on your first day. Once you were on that bus, she was a mess.”

After I hung up the phone with my dad, I cried again. I cried for that moment when I was getting on the bus as a 5-year-old and I had no idea, nor could I, of what my mother went through.

Now that my mom's not here, I really didn’t think I would ever get any more information from that day, but I was wrong. I think I now know how my mother felt that morning…. presumably, the same way I did this week.

A Moment Of Craziness (and its totally ok).

So, here's the thing.

A few nights ago, I posted something and then an hour later, deleted it. I had sat down to write after a terribly long week alone with the kids. I deleted it because I was embarrassed about what I wrote.

I think as moms, this is wrong. Sharing how difficult motherhood is, is one of the reasons why I started Expressing Motherhood with my dear friend. So, by me deleting my absolute crazy jamble of words about how I wished the kids were made of silly putty so I could smash them on newspaper and read the comics, goes totally against everything I believe in as a mother.

We need to talk about how crazy it is. About how lonely it is sometimes. About how darn hard it is.  No one can prepare you for motherhood....but maybe, just maybe, some of us can scare the bejeezus out of you for a minute or two.

For your reading enjoyment, here's the post from the other night, in all of its embarrassing glory.


Single Married Mother Season…..Life preserver please.

I sat down tonight with an urge to write about the mess in my head. I briefly contemplated whether or not to expose myself and share, but it’s not like me to hold back and keep secrets. So, obviously I didn’t really have to think about it long. The answer is…of course I share. Of course I write.

Some of you know…many of you don’t…but I produce a stage show called Expressing Motherhood. My best girlfriend and I started this show when we quit our jobs to stay home and raise our babies. We mostly believed that motherhood was something that needed to be shared…out loud…to other mothers….to non-mothers….to people thinking about becoming mothers….and all of their significant others, spouses, partners, what have ya. So, here is me…..Expressing some Motherhood.

First of all, let me start by throwing out a little disclaimer. To everyone reading this little rant, please understand that I am in full knowledge of the blessings bestowed upon me. I am in great appreciation that I am NOT an actual single mother, because God bless the women who have to go it absolutely alone. They have more strength than anyone watching a Rene Zelwegger film without fear. I acknowledge, that although I FEEL like a single mother, I do not, in fact, have to worry about where the money comes in. I know where he is…and he’s working right now as I write. And he deserves more kisses and hugs than I am capable of dishing out. The opinions in the following complaint are solely those of the author….me…who is allowed to say what I want, because, well,  this is my blog. So, there it is.


Cookie dough.

That is what I had for dinner tonight. I sometimes have cookie dough in lieu of a meal. If my neighbors are receiving freshly baked cookies late in the afternoon, It’s safe to assume that I’ve had a rough day or two. In this case, seven. It’s been a rough seven days.
The husband works in a business that takes him away from us a lot this time of the year, and I often refer to this time of the year as Single Married Mother Season.

So, here I am in the middle of the Season, and I’m having the worst one yet. Having the third child has thrown me for a loop. It’s turned my life inside out and I can honestly say I really don’t know which way is up. Please don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love love love my baby. She’s the easiest of the three children so far, but I feel way in over my head right now and its so unlike me to feel that way. I am normally a cool, collected person. I can be highly organized and I can multi-task like no one’s business. I have goals, and I accomplish them……normally.

I’ve been looking in the mirror, and honest to the good Lord above, I don’t recognize myself. I have no idea who I’m looking at. I see wrinkles and raccoon eyes. I see unwashed hair and unbrushed teeth. I also see complete exhaustion and loneliness.

Today, I thought…. ‘Is this what Post Partum Depression feels like?’

But, I know what Post Partum is...right? I know moms who were hospitalized for it…or thought about suicide….or hurting their children…..and that is not me at all. Not at all. But I know that's not all post partum is.
I’m just sad... and still grieving…and confused…and tired, upset, angry, conflicted, surprised and annoyed...and I think its a little post partum.

This is so unlike me. This is not me. Who am I? Where did I go? What am I doing…I mean, an entire day has passed and I cant remember what I ate for breakfast. Wait, did I even have breakfast?

My days consist of night feedings, toddler wakings, early rising, feeding, changing, burping, nursing, packing lunches, doing dishes, folding laundry, changing sheets, scrubbing toilets, running errands, cooking meals, dropping off children and picking them up, entertaining young ones, asking questions, listening for answers, barking orders, separating fights, reading stories, correcting language, grocery shopping, mopping floors…….and it goes on and on and on.

Somewhere in there, I’m supposed to take a shower, brush my teeth, change my clothes, get some exercise and sleep and take care of my husband’s needs?

Huh?

I just can’t believe this is my life. Where am I? Where did I go? I feel used by everyone.

For the first time in my motherhood experience, I can honestly say I get it. I get what I’ve heard other mothers talking about. About the isolation, and the feeling of being overwhelmed. It has taking having a third child to push me to that point. And my children are good children! They are well-mannered, very active babes. I am blessed, no doubt.

This is truly the most difficult, time-consuming job I’ve ever had. I need to find the strength to make a re-commitment to this job and move forward, because this is so not like me.

I know, I know…..I just had a baby four months ago. I think most of this is sleep deprivation. I am just flat out tired. 

And I miss my mother terribly. Oh, how I want my mom right now. I’m still grieving in waves, and not getting enough sleep does not help that.

I feel crazy. Even reading back what I just wrote here makes me feel sad for that person..but that person is me. 

Oh, boy.
Time to go to bed.  But I have to put the cookie dough away first. Neighbors, be prepared for fresh baked cookies tomorrow. 

Pause Button Please.

I’ve been dreading this day for a long time now…….and it’s not even here yet.

My little Shelby…the first born…the beautiful, blond, spunky, energetic, brilliant little girl (who happens to be the one to have started the horrific tearing of  my abdominal muscles and stretching of the skin on my entire body) is starting Kindergarten next week!

One day, this past Spring, before she graduated preschool, we were sitting at the breakfast table and she began to sing. Unbeknown to me, she was getting ready to perform a little number at her upcoming graduation, and all she wanted to do, was make me fill my oatmeal bowl with tears and search for that remote control to life so I could hit the pause button.

(To the tune of Take Me Out To The Ballgame)
Take me to Kindergarten
It’s time for me to move on
I know my numbers and letters too
I even know how to write them all too
For its root! Root, root for the children
We share our toys and our food…
For its one, two three and we’re off
To our brand…new…school!

As I sat there in awe of her ability to remember the lyrics to any song…my eyes were swollen with tears and a wave hit me. I lost my breath and had to get up and leave the breakfast table. The last thing I needed was for her to think her singing was that awful.

She was really going to be headed to Kindergarten……..and that day is Tuesday.

I remember my first day of Kindergarten. I remember what I wore while I stood at the end of our driveway waiting for the bus to come. I remember turning to look at mom as I was waved safely across the street to board the bus. Of course I have no way of knowing what my mother was going through, but I was elated, excited and not scared one little bit.

I am so sad that my mother is not here to listen to me gush about this monumental moment in Shelby’s life…in all our lives, really.

I have my own memories of my first day, and I pray that Shelby will too.

Let’s just hope her memories aren’t of her mother being dragged away by school security for sobbing outside of her class window, face pressed against the glass pounding fists, while crying out “I love you so much Shelby. I’m so proud of you. I know you’ll love school and I’ll miss you so much when you’re gone all day. Kisses…hugs…Love you Shelby….”