Thanks and Revelations, Guilt and Rain Boots

when you lose someone- and i'm talking about after you've gotten through the initial bit of total misery, after all the people have left and the official family count is down and the food has been eaten and the how-to-survive-this books have been read- you spend all your time trying to avoid the sad. 

and the sad is like the cold and the wet of crappy weather. avoiding it means covering up, hiding out, running fast through it. but it keeps coming down and it still finds its way into your clothes. 

as time passes, you find that you're better at managing the weather and don't feel it stinging your eyes and your wrists as much. you can move through it without sprinting and you don't get quite as saturated. sometimes there are days when it even feels sort of warm or dry. 

and then years pass, and you've stopped even wearing your heavy coat and boots. you're long since dry and comfortable. so comfortable, that you have even stopped worrying about the dates and situations that used to make you the most sad. you get cocky. you think, 'i got this.' 

and then there it is. you're cold again. and your old coat doesn't fit because the last time you wore this you were smaller and you don't know how to handle this sad now that you're supposed to be a grown person caring for children of your own. 

this is how i've been feeling today. that familiar but ancient grief. i lost my sister 20 years ago to leukemia. we went on a make-a-wish trip as a family the year she died. i'm now volunteering for make-a-wish and i visited a family with children with chronic illness and special needs yesterday. 

and today i just couldn't stop wondering what my sister would look like now, how she would be the most wonderfully goofy aunt to my kids. how she would have looked in the bridemaid's dress at my wedding. 

i guess i got cocky. i poked the bear where it lives. and now i'm paying for it. 

i'll get through it and keep volunteering, but now i know that i might need to buy some really good boots in my size to keep warm while i do it. 

and what a confusing blend of emotions regarding my kids. 

worry. my kids are healthy and safe but what. if. 

thanks. my kids are healthy and safe, thank God. 

guilt. my kids are healthy and safe, why do i deserve that? or conversely, why in the world would anyone deserve having anything but healthy and safe kids? why has my life been such a crazy huge blessing? why has it been all break? (as in 'give me a __') 

guilt again. because i really like that one. lately i've been feeling like i never have any time to myself and i'm stressed out about house renovation stuff and i'm feeling pulled and needed by both my very loud, chatty, demanding kids, and...come. on. in the hierarchy of needs, i'm pissed because i can't polish my toenails. i want to smack me. what with our full-time well-paying, satisfying jobs we have after the educations we were gifted, and our beautiful home that we're talking about making even more beautiful, and our 2 (two!) amazing, perfect children who are healthy and happy and incredible (and here at all!) and who are ABLE to communicate what they want/need. and dear God, then i can then GIVE it to them! sheesh. i'm such a tool. 

awe. this family we visited yesterday is beautiful and functioning against all odds. i mean against ALL odds. against language and economic barriers, limited access to all resources, and demanding, challenging physical and mental impairments of several of their children. but i bet i saw them dispense 2,000 kisses to those children in the time we were there. smiles come easily to everyone in the family. everyone looking content and well cared for and loved. amazing. truly. 

so, when all balances out, i feel thanks and relief and optimism. missing my sister, but that's OK. she was great and i should tell her nephew and niece more about her so that they are acquainted by memories. and thanks that this wish family is living in so much love and seem to have some peace even in what must be a daily struggle. and thanks for the insane pile of blessings i have. first and foremost, my healthy, happy, loud tiny dictators. i'm so grateful for the crazy that they make me. 

Sometimes You're 'O' for Everything

we have had zero sleep wins in our house this week. the children are running the asylum. 

the girl baby sleeps in our room, allegedly in a pack 'n play, but routinely actually thrashing about between us in our bed, using my mammaries as a chew toy/comforter/punching bag/straw thing. 

so that's neat. 

and last night i was bribing the three year old male person to sleep (naturally). it went like: you go to bed like a big boy on your own AND sleep through the night AND stay in bed until your alien alarm clock glows green in the morning and you will get a treat. 

AND so, bedtime was tears and more tears and robb and i alternating sitting in the chair in the corner on his room, glaring at said child in the dark while he thrashed around and periodically checked to see if we were still there. for. an. hour. 

and then, at the crackiest crack of dawn this morning, to what does my addled brain ear holes appear?  muffled footie pajama feet walking toward me with the mouth part saying, WHAT'S MY TREAT? IS IT ROUND? 

sigh. but only sigh shallow-like, or it will turn into a snore and i will be in this seat for the rest of the night. 

Does Yoda Wear Pants?

i thought maybe i'd crossed some invisible line of child innocence and reality tonight. some barrier between the two worlds like where kids realize what veal is or when alice cooler guest stars on the muppets (this happened. great, f#cked up episode).

ANYway....i read some news about a teenager getting shot on the street in a gang-related crime. i don't know what i murmured to myself, but my face must have looked stricken, because henry was all curious about what was wrong. i told him that someone was hurt by a gun. it was very sad and upsetting and i feel worried and sad for everyone. 

he asked a bunch of follow-up questions (mostly "why?" to which i repeated, "i don't know.") and then he sat quietly, pensively for a minute. 

and i assumed i'd broken him (again). 

then he says, "i'm darth vader. the force is strong with me." 

and we're BACK! so either he's too young to be long-term traumatized by horrible events, or he'll process it more over time, or he's a sociopath (but he's so sweet....and gives such great hugs!.....)

i don't know how much to shield him. he's really young, but on the other hand, we're all up in the world and the world in us, and i think knowledge can protect and empower, so....? 

but he's got tons of the force within him, so what am i worrying about, really?

8 Months is Awesome

funny, sweet, happy and busy girl turned 8 months this week!

she's eating like a champ, growing like a weed and crawling like a pro. so i guess she's some sort of plant-life skilled wrestler? (do you ever think about the way we apply language? it's really goofy). 

anyway. 

she seems to have gotten through her first cold. a little temp and some sleepy grouchiness, but she's back to normal now. we've been so blessed that she's been so healthy so far. 

our next goal will be setting up a crib somewhere in our house (location yet to be determined) and getting her to stay inside it and asleep for sustained periods. 

hmmm....you gotta have goals, right? :) 

Hobbies and Exercise and Thinks, Oh My

the earlier hours of a new job + head cold + sick kids mean i've been in survival mode the last few weeks.

not that we're ever far out of the just-barely-head-above-water state (and obviously when i say 'survival mode' i mean the most well-off, privileged white suburban kind of problems we're surviving, obvs. i mean, let's be real here)...but recently it seems i'm either at work, working on stuff for/with the kids, or sleeping.

my body doesn't care that my mind has other priorities, it's shutting down around 8pm every night and not having the rest of my to-do list nonsense.

and i do feel better, having caught up with some sleep. (thanks to both sets of parents who came and helped take care of our kids over the past few days so we could work and sleep!).

but i'm really missing making time to write, read, watch movies, do anything other than the daily minutia tasks. i have all these projects half-brewed that i'd like to be working on and am just not finding the capacity. and i miss it.

i'd like to say i also miss running and that i'm incomplete when not working out, but that would be a bold lie and i would expect you all to call me on it.

so i'll just say, i also am not running.

and robb and i seem to only catch each other in texts and the rare face-to-face moment where we're discussing the logistics of life or arguing about something stupid.

last night my parents offered to watch the kids while we went out!! i'd love to say we took advantage of it and had a grand ol' time, but really, we insisted on putting the kids to bed because they'd been off their sleep schedule for days and are still ill-ish and i fell asleep with henry while putting him down and then when i woke up it was an ungodly late hour where no one EVER would or should leave the house to be social (10:15pm) and so i took a bath and went to bed.

lame. so lame. but....sleep.

so my goal is to get back into writing because i feel more like me when i am.

and running. because i'm supposed to say that.

The Over Under on Falling Over and Hiding Under a Desk

there's this old saturday night live sketch where they're on the campaign trail for some democratic presidential candidate and bill clinton shows up and puts the crowd into a frenzy just by sticking his arm onto stage and giving a thumbs up. the other candidate is despondent because he will never be as popular as clinton or as able to win over the people.

that's how it is here right now. anna is the throngs of democrats and i am bill clinton. robb is some poor schlub in a suit with a banner behind him with his name in big letters, but anna remains unimpressed and longing for the clinton years.

in other words, she's in the mommy phase right now. i remember it keenly with henry. i'm probably less flattered and robb less disappointed by it this time, since we knew to expect it, know that it passes, and acknowledge that it has mostly to do with the fact that i smell like breast milk. (i do not think that was bill clinton's charisma-making attribute, but i never met him so it could have been).

and sleep is still something we don't get a lot of as bananacakes still wakes to nurse often during the night. and her bed is next to ours, because of current house issues. so, after having half slept all night with a little nursling pressed up against me (it's really cute. i can't lie. she's crazy adorable. but still. bad for sleep), when i wake up super early for work, often so does she and then mornings get stressful. grumble.

so we're all a little under slept and a little over crabby.

we're also in a phase that i remember all too well from last time where both robb and i feel overly burdened and underly helped. like DIDN'T I JUST DO THAT? HOW IS IT NOT YOUR TURN? about everything. the little incidental annoyances are accumulating and we're sniping at each other. trying to remember the million reasons why we work and we love each other and we're worth the hassle to each other. but sometimes we're just glad that the generalized fatigue makes it impossible for us to plan and carry out a spouse murder. what is that called? isn't there a word for that?

it's 'mariticide.' no joke. that's what it is. i found it on the wikipedia page "Lists of types of killings."

so i'm definitely not being followed by the FBI now. (hi, guys! (and gals. i like your sensible shoes)).

anyway. phases are just that because they don't last. all mostly is well and, certainly, WILL be well soon.

cheers!

LITTLE JACKIE PAPER LOVED THAT RASCAL PUFF

ok, so anna is a physical phenom. she is so tough and so strong, i am more and more convinced she's going to grow up to be a stunt woman or something. 

putting her to bed is like pig wrestling. she's doing gymnastics and taking flying leaps and thrashing all her limbs. all this while nursing. 

i turned away to do something really quickly and when i turned back, she had dove head-first between the side of my bed and the pack-n-play, which is smashed up to the bed, so there's nary an inch between the two. so all that i can see are her legs, sticking straight up in the air, and i didn't know the best way to rescue her, so i just sort of grabbed her feet and pulled her out, expecting her to be completely panicked and crying. 

but she laughed. a lot. 

i'm watching 'american ninja warrior' right now and thinking...yep. that. 

henry rides his bike like a champ now. it's a balance bike (without pedals) but now he picks his feet up and just glides. he'll be ready for pedals soon. he goes really fast. 

and he's starting to recognize a few letters and gets his left and right correct much of the time. he's definitely ready for preschool, which is starting next week. we had to get him 'sumplies,' which he was super excited about. markers, crayons, paper, glue. so much glue. 

he's so incredibly sweet with his sister. he's taken to singing to her when she's upset. he launches into 'puff the magic dragon' whenever she cries. 

so a few weeks ago, we were on our bikes in the woods and anna was in the bike seat on my bike and i got tangled up trying to mount it (after having walked up the hill on foot next to the bike like a boss) and we both fell. so she was crying (she was fine), i was swearing (a little banged up), and henry was belting AND BROUGHT HIM STRING AND CEILING WAX AND OTHER FANCY STUFF into the woods. i think we scared a lot of birds. 

anyway. i have a lot of things in my mind grapes i want to share. i just need to make some time. soon! i swear! 

until then, happy labor day. hope you had a lovely one!