EXCUSE ME, MOMMY??

MOMMY, I WANT AN APPLE.

(how do you ask nicely?)

PLEEEEASE.

(try it again from the beginning.)

PLEASE MAY I HAVE AN APPLE.

(see? that's better. if you just ask for it politely from the beginning, i'll just get it for you.)

YEAH. JUST GET IT FOR ME.

(.....)


also, you know how henry talks all the time? all. the time. all the time. it's great, but it can get exhausting when we can't get a word in around him and he interrupts us even when we're answering his question that he just asked and i feel like all my words are just getting sucked up into a black hole 2 inches from my mouth because NO ONE IS HEARING THEM?! 

ooh. ok. yeah. that feels better.

anyway. so we've taught him to say "excuse me" when we're talking and he wants our attention.

so now, instead of MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, it's EXCUSE ME, MOMMY? EXCUSE ME, MOMMY, EXCUSE ME, MOMMY?

so robb and i are trying to get 30 words across to each other last night and in the background we're getting the whole EXCUSE ME script. finally, we both kind of turn and look at him, exasperatedly, and that child is waving his tiny white ass up in the air in the hallway going EXCUSE ME, MOMMY, DO YOU SEE MY BUTT? DO YOU SEE MY BUTT?

and so.

i've been laughing about it all day. that tiny little dupa, waived so proudly. and technically he did wait to finish his thought and his butt dance until he politely received our attention.

(sorry/not sorry all your toddler butt stories are on the internet, henry, love. shouldn't have interrupted me! oh, snap.)

Someday...

overwhelmed and trying, as always, to stuff too much into our already busted-out-the-seams life. i'm trying to let myself off the hook for more. delegate, choose relaxing over ass kicking on occasion. it's a good goal for 2015. (2015?? SHIT! WHAT DAY IS IT? CHRISTMAS IS NEXT WEEK? WHAT? OH IT'S THANKSGIVING? THEN WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? THANKSGIVING? BUT THEN CHRISTMAS AND I HAVEN'T PREPARED AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING AND MONEY AND WHAT AM I FORGETTING AND CHRISTMAS LETTER AND AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!).

hello, my name is sarah. and i am an anxiety junkie. but i'm a busy working mom of two young needers and i am....TRYING...TO....RELAX.

to see through this pile and this mess into the future, i have to believe that:

someday i will file all my papers promptly.
someday i will clean up my email account (currently 103 sitting in my inbox. that's pretty good)
"someday i will organize my pictures and save them responsibly" (we all know that one's a lie)
someday i will hang all the framed pictures in the house that are propped against a wall.
someday i will put the clothes away.
no, seriously, someday i will put the clothes away.
someday i will make sure there are pictures of the 2nd child up somewhere in the house.
someday i will do all the cute things, like make books and write puppet shows, for the 2nd one.
someday i won't forget her name and keep calling her 'the second one.'
someday i won't be nursing and pumping and exhausted all the time...right?
someday i'll be fully slept and i will be able to adequately finish my senten-
someday i'll be more forgiving and affectionate. to myself and everybody else.
someday i'll be able to laugh at ALL my quirks and not be stopped by self doubt.
someday i'll help the world.
someday i'll know how.
but first that stinking email account.

Ten Joyful Months, What's the Name of That Little Sea Creature That Stays Latched Onto Big Fish All the Time? Yes, That.

alright. well. anna cakes is 10 months old. she is growing weed-like and developing all kinds of new tricks. she stands on her own now for 5 seconds before falling hard on her dupa (polish for butt). she doesn't seem to mind. her tenacity and focus on her goals is really (terrifying) remarkable. she is really bold and i continue to just be baffled by her strength and perseverence. and her dexterity is getting pretty good, so she picks up the smallest wee things off the floor and puts them on her tongue. so that's neat. 

she has her bottom 2 teeth and is working on the top 2 as well. she is eating great- so far there's nothig she doesn't like. she isn't really signing yet, and her urgent verbal requests for 'mama' may or may not be directed at me, specifically, but she gets her point across when she wants stuff. and how. 

she's in that really clingy mommy phase right now that is leaving me pretty wrung out. like, if you walked into my house and did NOT hear her crying, it's because i'm holding/nursing her. and she's never been the best sleeper and we are THE WORST sleep trainers, so currently we're up every hour or two. all. night. long. so that is that.  this is, once again, where having done this before and lived through it helps so tremendously. i can soundly say that this is a phase and that we'll be on the other side of it soon-ish. meanwhile, when she's doing flips and head-butting me instead of sleeping, i'll enjoy her fluffy hair in my face and the feel of her beast muscles covered in footie pajamas. 

in henry news, he spent a couple days with my parents and sister and had a ball, as he always does. it's good for him to have the time to get loved on by them, and it's good for us to have time to catch up on some things with reduced chaos. 

when they reunited after being apart for 2 days, it was hella cute. 

ok. that was just the down and dirty. she's in her small window of sleep right now and i have lots more to do, so later for now!

I'm Your Mom AND....

i was picking up my birth control at the pharmacy the other day with my wee curious tag-along in the car and he asked me, "MOMMY, WHAT ARE WE DOING?" (getting my...medicine), "MOMMY, WHY DO YOU NEED MEDICINE? ARE YOU SICK?"

...i'm so embarrassed to say i got all weird and awkward and stammary until i finally came out with the answer i'm OK with...."i'm not sick. i'm very healthy. this medicine is helping my body work the way i want it to." 

that's the gist of it, isn't it? but, golly molly, for a second my words to him were all, "well, see i LOVE you and your sister and having babies is an AMAZING blessing but i....you know...there comes a time in everyone's life when... so, the woman's body.....erm...it uh...eggs and...stuff" 

eck. 

the truth is, henry of the future, having the ability to control whether or not i get pregnant gives me the freedom to be exactly the mom i want to be and have the family structure i want and the career and future that i want. it gives me choices and control over my body, and, since i am a woman, it gives me control over my life. i got weird for a second because in a panic i thought my genius 3 year old might figure out that i'm taking pills to squash his future siblings. 

i know.  i KNOW.

but somehow all the social, political, religious stuff that i've logic'd through a long time ago stopped me in my tracks momentarily. 

but this is nothing to be ashamed of and there's no reason to be apologetic. my body is working exactly how i want it to with the help of these pills. choosing not to be reproductively open for business is this exciting right and ability that i have and i'm exercising it. 

(some days around here i'm exercising it with much enthusiasm. disco, baby, i'm dancing that pill down the hatch. some mornings, robb and i say a little toast as i take it).

and, future henry, one day maybe you'll understand that i'm a person AND a mom. this is part of what helps me be both. 

and now in my compulsive  crazy mommy rush let me emphasize that being your mom is the MOST FREAKING BEST THING EVER. 

it truly is...but i also like being a sarah. i'm your mom AND....i'm a sarah. 

and i get to keep being a sarah, and growing and changing that sarah to be who i want her to be over the years, partly because of the miracle of birth control. 

i can be both overwhelmed with thanks for you and your sister and also be in gratitude to my ability to prevent more pregnancy. 

some day, not when you're 3, we'll talk about all this. thankfully i'll have a few years to practice my response.

and maybe some day, when you're grown and you need on me a little less and our relationship rolls over toward friendship, you'll get to know more of the sarah in me beyond the mom. i want to keep her busy and interesting all this time so that you have fun with her when the time comes. 

because hanging out with your mom is awesome. 

It Hurts Too Much. This is Just One Big Trigger. I Have to Release This But You Don't Have to Read It.

nothing has changed. i'm still an angsty teenager with too much eye makeup. when i have too much feels, i write a song. i never remember the tune that i wrote after the first time of cry-singing it in my car, so now it's a poem. 

i'm internalizing terribly over this horrendous news story and i just have to get it out of my system before i can move on. i'd like to say it's an honorable pursuit and i'm cherishing the memory of this poor tortured little soul or something, but really, there's just all this blood rushing through my head and all i hear is the thick urgent adrenaline of my own kid in pain.

you may have read the story. i'm not going to repeat it. you don't need your own vivid misery. i'll just say this 3 year old boy was tortured and died, at the hands of his mom and other adults. he had a familiar round face and hair that hung in his eyes and a complexion like my henry's.  i'm near tears and vomit all the time and just keep picturing henry's parts in that kind of pain.  what he must have cried out or begged or sobbed in a voice like my baby's...i just...can't anymore. 

it's not saving him for me to fall into this pit. i can't be less of a mom to my kids because i'm lost in this grief spin. i'm going to leave him in heaven where i want him to be. with Jesus holding his crushed body so tenderly and kissing and crying over each wound on his tiny body and soul. that's it. 

here's my poem. moving on. have to. 

I want to hold you, keep you safe in my arms. 

Keep all the parts of you safe from harm. 

I feel like building a series of walls against the world to keep you whole. 

But I worry that you'd miss out on the chance to build your strength. 

To find your feet, find your voice, figure out who you are among us. 

You can't do that alone behind a wall. 

I'm sorry if sometimes I kiss you and hug you too much. 

Sometimes those kisses are aimed at another small person in pain who I couldn't reach. 

One who I wish I could hold and make well and tell them they're loved and important.

Not a hassle, a mistake, or something to hate. 

But I can't because they're gone now or halfway around the world. 

So many small ghosts out there it kills me. 

Too many little lives too full of pain. 

Every mouthful of new teeth should be smiling and throwing giggles 

up into the air all the time, like you do. 

Thank you for doing that. 

It heals my breaking heart. 

I want to tell you earnestly that I think that people are good. 

And that you should genuinely smile and be kind and caring 

and to expect it back from others.

I just don't know. 

I hope I'm not lying. 

I want you to trust me. 

But I'm not sure on that point. 

Times, They Are a Changin' (Sonofabitch)

5:15 in the AM, in the year of the Lord 2014 on the 2nd of November

the children woke up. there were more than the regular amount of children, because we were slumber partying with henry's honorary cousin last night.

and they all woke up.

5:20-5:30 in the AM, in the year of the Lord 2014 on the 2nd of November

made them all stay in bed, because...geez....

5:31 in the AM, in the year of the Lord 2014 on the 2nd of November

gave up. let's go watch 'sleeping beauty' in the 'tv bedroom.'

6:39 in the AM, in the year of the Lord 2014 on the 2nd of November

alcohol for the grownups, pancakes for everybody. cheers!

Pete and Repeat Were Walking Down the Street/ Star Wars Halloween 2014

so, sometimes i feel like my life is like this recurring story. it's a really good story- awesome and full of great characters, and i really don't mean to complain about it, (but will, of course), but it is a story on repeat. and it can feel exhausting and defeating sometimes. like i'm living out 'groundhog day.' most days are similar enough that i often have those glitches in the matrix where i sense i've done this before or i kind of forget where i am on the list or in the stack. 

i wrote this after i did a mountain of hand wash dishes at 9:30pm on a friday night. halloween friday night while everyone else in the house slept. alone, doing dishes. bored and tired, while convinced that the rest of the world is out having super fun times, is a lethal combo and out comes the irritable blogging. 

(for the record, halloween was fun. cold and rainy and brief, but fun nonetheless) 

the house is always a mess. some of it the perpetual same messes (why is there always so much outside on the inside on my floors?) and then ever-evolving messes. somehow train parts morph into block and then legos and then fake food pieces right before my eyes. technically different stuff, equally painful when stepped on in the dark. 

and why are there more dishes to be washed than we surely could have used? that is not math that works out. and there's always food that needs to be bought and prepared. feeding these people takes so much time. it's amazing. and money. i can't type out loud what we spend monthly at the grocery store and restaurants because my fingers won't let me, but somehow, we're not saving any time or convenience by spending extra money, and we're also not saving any money by putting all this time and work into the whole process. if our food situation were a factory line, we would be surely revamped or replaced by robots. (ooh....hmmm...)

AGAIN, i recognize that this is all really first world-y rich kid complain-y stuff, because we have a great house, healthy kids, super jobs, and a strong marriage. for sure hierarchy of needs, we're on the tippie top. 

but, we spend so much time just functioning in the day-to-day stuff, that getting the chance to work on side projects or creative endeveurs or deep cleaning the house or keeping up on finances or organizing/planning for the future or jumping on causes we care about, or hobbies we once enjoyed...it'e hard. 

up much of the night with a clingy, teething baby, work all day, miss the kids all day while at work, but then find them almost instantly extremely exhausting when i do get them because then i'm simultaneously feeding, entertaining and bathing them, while answering a billion questions for the one kid and holding and nursing a million tears away for the other kid, get them to sleep (temporarily), preparing food for the next day, maybe have a grownup conversation that isn't about logistics of life, but probably not, maybe have sex, but only if it's been such a long time that we're afraid that stuff will seal shut if we don't....and then rinse and repeat. every day. 

so i occasionally blog or read a little or watch a movie or get to know a new friend over drinks or start some shit on the internet, but all that time could have been spent doing all the shoulda stuff and it's hard to justify the time away, knowing that the stacks and lists are waiting for me when i get back. 

ok. done whining. 

i agreed to join this national novel writing thing for the month of november. you're supposed to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. there is zero conceivable way i can accomplish this task, but having it out there as a goal might make this month a little more distinguishable from the rest. change and growth and newness, along with a fresh pair of socks. these are my goals. 

(ahem...if anyone has any idea about what in the world i should write this novel about, i'm open for suggestions. i got nothin.' also, please to ignore all my change of tense and subject in this blog. it is not a direct reflection on how grammar bad my novel will totes turn out)