Do you ever those days where it feels as if you're spinning in place? No matter how hard you work, there's no traction to be had? Aside from Monday, I've felt as if I've had an entire week of mud flinging, mired and bogged down, wheel spinning. Whew, and boy, has it been hard to maintain a positive outlook and refrain from complaining.
So, while I'm laying it all out on the table, let me be completely honest. There was complaining. Mind you, not as much complaining as I once would have been guilty of, but there was some complaining of note. Along with that complaining went a healthy dose of shame.
The thing that made the most difference to me though was if I did bellyache about something, I immediately recognized it for what it was. I would then try to rectify the situation and find something positive about the situation and move forward.
So, while I'm by no means perfect, heaven help me, I'd have no reason to write Confessing Mommy if I were. I am working to become a more thoughtful, kind, and compassionate person. And, for now, that's a good start.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
16 November KCttC
I know that I am completely out of order with my dates, but I'll catch the others up this weekend and right this wrong order then.
It's 9:00 P.M. and I have a crying two year old in my bed. Her brother is asleep in his bed at quite the elevated status in order for him to breathe easier tonight. It's been a long day and a hard one to maintain a positive outlook as both have colds as well as a major case of grumpy butt-itis.
But, this much I know: they're not terribly sick, they'll be fine in a few days, and we love each other deeply no matter how much the day seemed to disagree with us all.
I also know that I have a wonderfully loving, kind, and compassionate hubby who cleared the supper dishes, picked up toys from one end of the house to the other, and put our brood to bed, so I could lay down when I wasn't feeling so well.
I have a wealth of positive to focus on in my world. I am filled with joy even though the space behind my eyeballs is screaming. I am joyous.
It's 9:00 P.M. and I have a crying two year old in my bed. Her brother is asleep in his bed at quite the elevated status in order for him to breathe easier tonight. It's been a long day and a hard one to maintain a positive outlook as both have colds as well as a major case of grumpy butt-itis.
But, this much I know: they're not terribly sick, they'll be fine in a few days, and we love each other deeply no matter how much the day seemed to disagree with us all.
I also know that I have a wonderfully loving, kind, and compassionate hubby who cleared the supper dishes, picked up toys from one end of the house to the other, and put our brood to bed, so I could lay down when I wasn't feeling so well.
I have a wealth of positive to focus on in my world. I am filled with joy even though the space behind my eyeballs is screaming. I am joyous.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
10 November KCttC
Thursday at my MOPS meeting I almost got up and ran out within the first fifteen minutes. But, I stayed. I didn't want to. But, I did. There was a lady addressing our group about the death of her not quite three year old daughter. It was one of those rare tragedies in which everything just happened to fall into place at the right, or rather wrong time, leading to the premature death of a bubbly, beautiful baby girl.
As she continued to tell her story it became harder and harder for me not to run as fast as my feet could take me back home to my babies. It was brutal to listen to the devastating details of the four and a half week long hospital duration and the decision to remove life support. All I could do was hold back tears and wish myself away into the arms of my sweet, beautiful babes.
My intense desire to be clutching my children closely was beginning to be replaced by some unknown feeling, though. And, I didn't care for it all. It was shame.
My cheeks flushed hot with the embarrassment of realizing how selfish I truly was at that moment. I should have been feeling overwhelming compassion for this woman, who was still deeply grieving four years later. Yet, all I thought about was leaving a discussion that made me extremely uncomfortable, and configuring escape routes that would get me to my own children the quickest. I was a weak woman that night.
While I don't know how to turn my initial reaction into something less shameful and positive, I do know that what I felt was most likely quite natural. I imagine I wasn't the only mama there that night aching to hold her child to breast and shower with kisses. Somehow, being painfully reminded that life is temporary, fleeting at best, does that to a mama. We love fiercely. We can't not love fiercely. Sure, the umbilical cord is cut at birth, but there's a binding far stronger than that cord that can never be severed. I know. I saw a mama fiercely bound tight to her babe even in death. And, I am now a stronger, better mama for having heard her story.
As she continued to tell her story it became harder and harder for me not to run as fast as my feet could take me back home to my babies. It was brutal to listen to the devastating details of the four and a half week long hospital duration and the decision to remove life support. All I could do was hold back tears and wish myself away into the arms of my sweet, beautiful babes.
My intense desire to be clutching my children closely was beginning to be replaced by some unknown feeling, though. And, I didn't care for it all. It was shame.
My cheeks flushed hot with the embarrassment of realizing how selfish I truly was at that moment. I should have been feeling overwhelming compassion for this woman, who was still deeply grieving four years later. Yet, all I thought about was leaving a discussion that made me extremely uncomfortable, and configuring escape routes that would get me to my own children the quickest. I was a weak woman that night.
While I don't know how to turn my initial reaction into something less shameful and positive, I do know that what I felt was most likely quite natural. I imagine I wasn't the only mama there that night aching to hold her child to breast and shower with kisses. Somehow, being painfully reminded that life is temporary, fleeting at best, does that to a mama. We love fiercely. We can't not love fiercely. Sure, the umbilical cord is cut at birth, but there's a binding far stronger than that cord that can never be severed. I know. I saw a mama fiercely bound tight to her babe even in death. And, I am now a stronger, better mama for having heard her story.
9 November KCttC
Wow. Wednesday was an especially difficult day to maintain a positive outlook. I woke early that morning to find myself sick with another flare up. And, pretty it was not. Fortunately, I had medication to combat the flare up. Unfortunately, the medication tends to make me extremely dizzy. We're talking dizzy to the point of not being able to stand, much less drive.
Instead of letting this flare up and the medication get the best of me, I turned this situation around by throwing a pajama party. Firstborn had been bummed when he realized I wouldn't be able to drive him to school. But, he quickly perked up at the mention of snuggling in bed watching cartoons, playing games, coloring, and reading books.
The pajama party cloaked what could have been a really bad day under the guise of playing hooky from school and doing the un-normal. The pajama party saved me. My positive attitude, while not at its best, was somewhat salvaged. And, while I would much rather have avoided the flare up altogether, it afforded me some much needed snuggle time with my two favorite wild things.
Instead of letting this flare up and the medication get the best of me, I turned this situation around by throwing a pajama party. Firstborn had been bummed when he realized I wouldn't be able to drive him to school. But, he quickly perked up at the mention of snuggling in bed watching cartoons, playing games, coloring, and reading books.
The pajama party cloaked what could have been a really bad day under the guise of playing hooky from school and doing the un-normal. The pajama party saved me. My positive attitude, while not at its best, was somewhat salvaged. And, while I would much rather have avoided the flare up altogether, it afforded me some much needed snuggle time with my two favorite wild things.
8 November KCttC
Tuesday I had the extreme pleasure of joining Firstborn at his school for a Mommy, Me, and muffins morning. It was such a treat to see the pride beaming from his sweet face as I perched precariously on the tiniest of tiny preschool chairs next to his. Along with our muffins and juice, we shared giggle after giggle as we talked with his mates and their moms. It warmed and filled my heart to overflowing spending that precious time with him.
I rarely have one on one time with him anymore. It isn't by design. It's by life and circumstance. I went a few rounds of mentally beating myself up over forgetting that this special boy needed special designated time. That's when it dawned on me that beating myself up over something that I'm sure has happened to even the best of parents, was just as bad as a negative outlook and complaining. In fact, it's far worse. How can I maintain a positive outlook when I'm constantly pummeling myself for personal mistakes? The answer is I can't.
So, for Tuesday's Kicking Complaining to the Curb I learned a lesson that I am constantly having to relearn it seems. I learned I must let it go. Let it go and do better. And, that's exactly what we'll be doing this afternoon. We'll be doing better with some special mommy and me time in the kitchen while Secondborn is napping.
I rarely have one on one time with him anymore. It isn't by design. It's by life and circumstance. I went a few rounds of mentally beating myself up over forgetting that this special boy needed special designated time. That's when it dawned on me that beating myself up over something that I'm sure has happened to even the best of parents, was just as bad as a negative outlook and complaining. In fact, it's far worse. How can I maintain a positive outlook when I'm constantly pummeling myself for personal mistakes? The answer is I can't.
So, for Tuesday's Kicking Complaining to the Curb I learned a lesson that I am constantly having to relearn it seems. I learned I must let it go. Let it go and do better. And, that's exactly what we'll be doing this afternoon. We'll be doing better with some special mommy and me time in the kitchen while Secondborn is napping.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
7 November Kicking Complaining to the Curb
Monday was not an easy day for Secondborn. She cried, whined, whimpered, and screamed for what seemed to be hours at a time. At first I was slightly frustrated with the situation because I was in Mommy work mode. I had loads of laundry to tackle, bathrooms to clean, floors to sweep and mop, take Firstborn to and from school, and somewhere in all of that make a sweet potato bread pudding for my Canning Confessions page.
I quickly realized that there was more to the situation than just an irate toddler when she insisted on being in my lap, arms, or attached to my leg as I would try to accomplish any of my tasks. Secondborn being the adventurous, spunky, and free spirited child she is, cannot stand to be contained. Any time she refuses to vacate my lap and is whiny, is a good indicator that she's not feeling well. Since she was not displaying any of the visual symptoms of a cold or a fever I assumed that it might be her two year molars causing her grief.
We've long suspected she was cutting those pesky molars since our move in April, but they never broke the skin. There were a few other times over the summer when we once more thought this, but again, they never broke the skin. Our pediatrician informed us that hers might just be slow in coming down and whenever they move a little further down is when she's getting cranky, slight fevers, and a runny nappy. At her last visit he remarked that they were getting a lot closer to breaking the skin. So, there might be some relief in sight soon.
I tried not to have a negative spirit or complaining nature that day, but I must admit it was difficult. As we cuddled on the couch it was frustrating to feel the weight of housework burdening my positive outlook. Very little of my Mommy work mode list was checked off. And, checking things off my lists ranks pretty high on my, well, my list of things I love to do.
I'm not so sure that day seven should be counted as a win, but it played an important step towards my month long goal of kicking complaining to the curb. And, maybe that makes it a win after all.
I quickly realized that there was more to the situation than just an irate toddler when she insisted on being in my lap, arms, or attached to my leg as I would try to accomplish any of my tasks. Secondborn being the adventurous, spunky, and free spirited child she is, cannot stand to be contained. Any time she refuses to vacate my lap and is whiny, is a good indicator that she's not feeling well. Since she was not displaying any of the visual symptoms of a cold or a fever I assumed that it might be her two year molars causing her grief.
We've long suspected she was cutting those pesky molars since our move in April, but they never broke the skin. There were a few other times over the summer when we once more thought this, but again, they never broke the skin. Our pediatrician informed us that hers might just be slow in coming down and whenever they move a little further down is when she's getting cranky, slight fevers, and a runny nappy. At her last visit he remarked that they were getting a lot closer to breaking the skin. So, there might be some relief in sight soon.
I tried not to have a negative spirit or complaining nature that day, but I must admit it was difficult. As we cuddled on the couch it was frustrating to feel the weight of housework burdening my positive outlook. Very little of my Mommy work mode list was checked off. And, checking things off my lists ranks pretty high on my, well, my list of things I love to do.
I'm not so sure that day seven should be counted as a win, but it played an important step towards my month long goal of kicking complaining to the curb. And, maybe that makes it a win after all.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
6 November KCttC
Ordinarily when I'm in the kitchen working on something that I plan to post about I like to be by myself. After working in restaurants, bars, and corner delis for quite some time I am accustomed to working at a rather rapid pace. A pace that tends to plow over anyone in my path who does not heed my warnings of, "behind you" or, "on your left".
I love having the kitchen to myself. That's my time. It's when I am most relaxed working at a frenzied pace that blocks out the rest of the world for a bit. But, it's also a time I'm learning to share. And, that's how I turned my sixth day of Kicking Complaining to the Curb around.
Secondborn was napping, and Firstborn was making it quite clear he was not. So, I invited him to help me in the kitchen. And, for that I was greatly rewarded.
I have a FaceBook page for my Canning Confessions site, and one of my "likers" sent me a link to this fabulous child friendly knife. I cannot say enough good things about these knives. Yes, that was plural. Please, we can't buy just one of anything in this house. Secondborn would never stand for that. Oh, you're concerned that I allow my two year old to handle a knife? I can understand that. But, both Hubby and I are big advocates for learning knife skills at an early age. It's those that have no knife skills or respect for the knife that end up with injuries.
And, yes he was wearing his pajamas. It was Sunday and that's what he does. After we come home from church he changes his clothes and always insists on putting on his pajamas.
He and I chopped onions, carrots, celery, and apples. We discussed different aspects of the veggies, how we were going to use them, and other uses. At one point he became quite concerned about my tears from the onion. He sweetly offered to "be a good boy" and not make me cry. I'm still not sure that he grasps the concept of the crying onions.
We had such a great time, and were laughing so loudly we woke Secondborn. But, that was fine by us. She was more than ready to practice her knife skills as well.
I will still crave time to myself in the kitchen, but I will make much more time for the natives now.
Those who wish to sing, always find a song. ~Swedish Proverb
Pin It
I love having the kitchen to myself. That's my time. It's when I am most relaxed working at a frenzied pace that blocks out the rest of the world for a bit. But, it's also a time I'm learning to share. And, that's how I turned my sixth day of Kicking Complaining to the Curb around.
Secondborn was napping, and Firstborn was making it quite clear he was not. So, I invited him to help me in the kitchen. And, for that I was greatly rewarded.
I have a FaceBook page for my Canning Confessions site, and one of my "likers" sent me a link to this fabulous child friendly knife. I cannot say enough good things about these knives. Yes, that was plural. Please, we can't buy just one of anything in this house. Secondborn would never stand for that. Oh, you're concerned that I allow my two year old to handle a knife? I can understand that. But, both Hubby and I are big advocates for learning knife skills at an early age. It's those that have no knife skills or respect for the knife that end up with injuries.
And, yes he was wearing his pajamas. It was Sunday and that's what he does. After we come home from church he changes his clothes and always insists on putting on his pajamas.
He and I chopped onions, carrots, celery, and apples. We discussed different aspects of the veggies, how we were going to use them, and other uses. At one point he became quite concerned about my tears from the onion. He sweetly offered to "be a good boy" and not make me cry. I'm still not sure that he grasps the concept of the crying onions.
We had such a great time, and were laughing so loudly we woke Secondborn. But, that was fine by us. She was more than ready to practice her knife skills as well.
I will still crave time to myself in the kitchen, but I will make much more time for the natives now.
Those who wish to sing, always find a song. ~Swedish Proverb
Pin It
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
