Facing the Day

Phew. I'm having a tough morning. I've shouted three times and it in 9.14am. Sesame Street is on and I need to write and sort out why I'm so out of sorts.

OK. Tomorrow we travel to Kansas. Today, I have to pack for the kids and myself. I would like to get the house into a reasonable state. I have to drop Gus off at the kennel. This is not an outlandish list, as I have nothing else planned for today. So why am I so on the edge? Deep breathes.

Am I anxious about the trip? Quite possibly. But I shouldn't be. Time with Brent, time with family, maybe even some time to myself.

The nights are still tough. I'm starting to dream about uninterrupted sleep. We are in a pattern where Tom will eat twice in the night and then come in to bed with us at 5.00 for two hours of fractious semi-sleep.

I think the sleep is my big problem. The tasks of the day seem just overwhelming at this minute. I'm tired, but I can't escape to rest. I'm going to take some time right now. Hopefully Tom will nap, Rose can watch Sesame Street, and I can quietly drink tea and get a little more ready to face the day.

all alone

Thirty minutes ago, I was bathing Rose upstairs, while Brent bathed Tom downstairs. Now, I'm all alone, kids are in bed and Brent is on his way to the airport to catch his flight to London. To interview at Oxford University. Everything feels off. Normal Saturday has turned into silent, unnerving Saturday.

Here are the different scenarios:
No tenure, no Oxford = Continue at Penn, but apply for other jobs
Tenure, no Oxford = Stay in Philly and probably move into a better school district
No tenure, Oxford = Move to England (right?)
Tenure, Oxford = fucking huge, difficult decision impacting not only us, but my family as well.

My Buddhist book warns against worrying about future decisions as it just causes suffering. And from looking at this list, there is absolutely no point in letting myself get carried away with thoughts of upsetting people, moving house, etc. as, at this point, the decsion is not yet our to make. It is, however, amazing how time can alter the strongest feelings. Just a few months ago, after the Christmas trip, I was sure I wanted to move to back to the UK. Now, I'm not so sure. Urgh, I'm going to try not to worry about this. I will instead concentrate on the things I can control: looking after squidge and bean while Brent is away.

Buddhism for Mothers

"Do not persue the past.
Do not lose yourself in the future.
The past no longer is.
The future has not yet come.
Looking deeply at life as it is
In the very here and now,
The practitioner dwells
In stability and freedom."

~ the Buddha

Last week a neighbour bought me the book "Buddhism for Mothers". It was such a kind and thoughtful gesture on her part as she has listened to my mothering complaints over the last month. The book is resonating with my emotions, feelings and thoughts about not only motherhood, but how I'm living my entire life. Also, I turn thirty in less than two weeks and this milestone has caused me to go into hyper-reflective mode. This book really could not have come at a better time.

I started the book on my afternoon off. I took a trolley into Philly, walked down Walnut Street, bought Rose a sticker pad (apparently I am compelled to purchase something for a child on my free afternoons), consumed tea, a really expensive and terrible coffee and two glasses of wine while reading the first two chapters, Buddhism and Motherhood and Parenting Mindfully. Now, after a couple of quiet moments on the couch, I've finished chapter three, Finding Calm. This is my first glimpse into Buddhist thoughts and my takeaways so far are:
Live in the present
Treat every moment as precious
Do not chide yourself for not doing things right, getting angry, feeling guilt.
instead recognize your feelings whatever they may be, accept them and let them pass, because they always do pass.
Learn to smile at life's little annoyances. Laugh more.
Perfection doesn't exist.
Write out your feelings instead of letting them swirl around in your head.
I'm inspired by this list. My freak outs of the last few weeks stem from so many negative emotions, anger, frustration, boredom, guilt, annoyance, embarrassment. This book gives me hope that I have the power inside me to prevent these horrible events from happening in the future. I don't need to medicate, I need to meditate!

I have consciously tried to recognize my emotions. Today, I watched my frustration and anger rise during the pre-Gus walk preparation. Gus is circling my legs, Tom os crying in the Ergo, Rose is insisting on putting on her own shoes. I wasn't successful at preventing the ball of frustration from forming in my chest, but I was able to step back and watch it form. And it passed. We walked, Rose chased me pretending to be a crocodile, Gus pooped and Tom whined. And I'm trying to notice the precious moments: Rose stroking a small leaf bud on a hedge, Tom kicking his legs during tummy time, Rose sharing a toy with a boy at the museum, my changing breath patterns while running.

I'm looking forward to reading the rest. Life changing...maybe.

So much better, even running better

My mood has flipped this week. Last Monday, Gus threw up play dough, Rose drew on the furniture with crayon and Gus almost killed a small dog. The owner did not have a lead on her pooch so I firmly and maniacally told her to put one (f'ing) on. I spent the next two hours crying. Not good. I felt out of control and it scared me. But things are definitely looking up. I was asleep by 9.00pm every night last week. I also realised I wasn't taking my iron pill. After ticking all the symptoms for iron deficiency anaemia, I have started taking them again and energy has been returning. I don't know if it is the pill or my head, but I'm feeling better, happy, and stable.

I've signed up for a third of a craft fair table. The fair is April 14th and at this moment I have nothing to sell. I do, however, like the deadline and purpose. Seven weeks to get my craft on! Also, I booked a flight to England last night. It is my birthday present - I'm going in April so I can attend a friend's wedding. I'm so so so thrilled. I wanted to go so badly and thought it wasn't going to happen as I didn't have enough money or miles, and then last night all these new flights popped up for 60,000 miles (I had 66,000) YAYYYY. I'm taking Tom as I'm still breast feeding exclusively, but Mum and Howard will babysit while I go to the wedding overnight. I think that black dress is going to get another outing!

Tom's hands are the current Tom fascination. He sits in his brown bouncy chair staring fixedly at his hanging sqirrel and hedgehog. He expertly gets one hand to them. This morning he was showing off by grabbing squirrel with both and then moving his left hand over to hedgehog. One in each hand! The boy is learning. He had a look to say "Boo ya hedgy, I got you!"

Rose has the most charming little sayings all of a sudden. "Oh my", "mmmm, yes, mmm". Where on earth did she get "oh my". I'll take it considering the potty mouths Brent and I still have with two young ones.

refreshed and recharged

Last night, Tom woke once to feed. This morning, he rolled over front to back and back to front. This is progress. He's a fabulous three-month old person. He smiles at everyone. He can stay awake in the ergo. He tolerates his sister screaming "Tom Tom" in his face. He loves his baths. He has adorable round blue eyes and increasingly chunky limbs. He adores attention, cooing at mama coos. He actively reaches for toys. We have left the fourth trimester behind us, thank God.

I'm feeling much much much more positive about everything. Rereading my last post was a huge kick up the arse. Not depressing, more inspiring. I am doing a great job of managing two babies, a marriage, a dog. Of course some things could go better at times, but, Jesus, I'm doing it. I am also going ahead with my little money making schemes. I have posted my first "Rock the Reading Test" practice test on teacherspayteachers and it has had five views. Also, the knitting business is a go, slow go, but a go.

The Night Shadows

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature us constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other." (p. 11)

Page eleven and Dickens has nailed the major problem with humanity; a person can never completely understand another person. I don't think anyone has any real hope in understanding themselves, so understanding other people are impossible. I'm one month from turning thirty and my own personality, temperament, individuality is just starting to come into focus. I now recognize the following things about myself: I have a temper. I bottle things up and lose control. I'm unable to cope with public embarrassment or failure. I fail to finish things. I have little confidence in myself. I need praise. I flake out on things. This entire list is negative. OK, positive, I can work hard, I can multi-task, I'm a good mother.

This is depressing, but therapeutic. There's a better me in here. Reading this wants me to start grabbing life and take some risks. If I fail, I fail, it will be good for me.

I'm doing my craft table.

perspective please

I cried three times today. On my own, in the kitchen, with my back to the kids. Except during the lunchtime nap edition of "Jolly Barnyard", I did have to pause and control my breaking voice. Is this normal? Is it OK that I am regularly crying and feeling completely overwhelmed? Perspective please.

I had a baby thirteen weeks ago.
Baby has not slept through the night, not even close.
I have not slept through the night, not even close.
I am looking after baby and two year old on my own from 7.00am until 5.30pm every day.
I do not have any family here to beg to come and help.
I get everyone out of the house every day for morning activities and afternoon dog walks, rain or shine.
I'm exclusively breast feeding.
Dinner is ready every night before 6.00pm.
The hoover comes out at least once a week.
The dog gets fed.
I talk to friends most days.

I feel like I can't complain. Last time I tried to explain how trapped and sad I feel sometimes, I got, "Well, go back to work then." Way to make me feel better. I need to ask for help more. I need to reach out to people more. I'm turning myself into a pressure cooker that keeps exploding every ten days. We need a babysitter so we can get out and away from the kids. But, I think I need to be a little easier on myself. This is hard.

who needs sleep?

Me, I do, I do. But, I'm not getting it. Well, not entirely true. I'm probably getting five hours a night. I'm a sleeper, I love my sleep, I love at least nine hours of uninterrupted sleep. I know I will have them again, but I miss them so badly. I'm jealous of my two year old and her eleven hours nights of blissful slumber. I haven;t had a full night's sleep for over three months and my body feels like it is slowly disintegrating. The days feel like I'm wearing a resistance parachute that is not helping me lose the baby fat. But, this week, it feels even worse, like my normal has been reduced 20%. I'm 80% of myself. Sleep, please come back soon.

The cause of this is our little man. He sleeps beautifully until 1.00am or 2.00am and then is up every hour. Every hour, we know we are up shushing, rocking, repacifing, crying (me alongside the little man). Our nights have been cut in half. We are trying all kinds of sleep tactics. He is currently super swadddled (his arms anchored with a scarf and swaddle blanket one top). We are dropping the dream feed tonight. I'm sleeping with him, while Brent sleeps in the spare room. No wonder having children destroy marriages. This will obviously, not last forever. Perspective is good, but sleep would be even better.

"Come sleep with me"

R. is blossoming from a introverted, observant toddler into a gregarious, funny, willful toddler. At 8.00pm tonight we stopped our movie "Beginners" because of this:
"Mummmy, mmmmuuunmmy, mummmyy"

Up the stairs I go.

"Mummy, get in bed"
"You want me to lie with you"
"Yes, get in bed"
I lie on top of her bed.
"No, under the blanket"
"I'm not going to get under the blanket, I'll lie here and we can read a book"
"OK"

I love that I can have a conversation with my little girl, a conversation that she has initiated, a conversation in which she is rying to manipulate me slightly.

T. meanwhile, is still not quite understanding the concept of sustained sleep. Last night he was up every hour. It can only get better.

4.37 on a Wednesday

Adele in my ears, mocha on my lips and some space around me. An afternoon with just me. I'm perched on a backless stool in a local coffeeshop. A stool that demands good posture. Too loud shop music interrupts my mellow choice of music, my labour playlist no less. Outside the window commuters are starting to trickle home, crisscrossing the complex junction in an ugly mechanical dance. People bundled in knitted hats bow their heads in brutal blasts of winter wind. Two men stand in the road peering westward for the next trolley.
A church tower watches over it all, the setting sun casting yellow sunshine onto its upper tiers. Naked tree branches reach over the road, stark like frail pointing fingers, accusing. Plate clang in the kitchen and the staff talk about shifts. Half eaten cakes line the shelf of a bright fridge, looking drab after hours on show. A crammed notice board screams with the goings on of a neighborhood, "Share yoga love with someone you love!" "Philly Youth Radio Got something to say? Want to be heard? Celebrate Charles Dickens on his 200th birthday" (I may actually do that one).
M thoughts jump from home (Is being home with the kids right for me? Do I have the patience? When will I get a full night's sleep again) to work (I need to earn money, how? when?) Just a few hours away is amazing for perspective. Last night I went to bed at 10.00 after a drink with Ellen, I was woken at 11.40, 2.00, 4.00, 5.00 and we got up at 7.00.

A Saturday at Home

A jetlag fuelled 6.00am wake up by both kids starting the day. Feeling amazingly energized after a night of only three feeds and numerous shushings, I began a pliates class courtesy of Netflix. The 36 minute video lasted about an hour as T. needed rocking, cooing and pacifying, while R. insisted on lying on my legs during the "pilates leg circle" exercises. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy the sweat inducing video and learned that I am unable to complete one push up, my shoulders feel like they will implode.
Our day turned into "operation declutter". A day of cleaning with kids, meaning not a lot gets done, but the bath has been scrubbed and some laundry has made it to the washing machine. Regardless of the lack of productivity, a day at home with the family cannot be beaten. Rose runs around with her constant wants, "Mummy, I want peanut butter, Mummy I want up, Mummy I want to hold baby Tom, Mummy I need water, Mummy I want to go outside, Mummy, I don;t want to go on the GUs walk." How can you not love that! Tom is an absolute delight. He happily stare at his homemade mobile, while we bustle about around him. He smiles and coos when you talk to him. His fluffy hair seems to be red in the sunlight.
Now, at 6.45pm, both bairns are in bed and we have an evening of football, reading, knitting, beer ahead of us. How can you not love this day?

Back home (?) again

Granted I have just returned from a delightful three week visit and the painful parting is still a vivid memory, but I want to be in England again.. Rose and Tom are here and priorities have changed. Pre-babies life in a big American city was exciting, challenging. Now, I want my children to grow up with grandparents, great-grandparents. My true home is with my husband and my babies, but I'm becoming convinced if that home should be in Philadelphia.

Top eleven memories from Christmas 2011 (in no particular order)

1. Seeing Rose and Tom interact with family
2. Swimming with Rose at Parkside Pool
3. Visiting the Pike and Eel (an emotional journey down memory lane)
4. Playing Balderdash with Joyce ("buggery instead of surgery")
5. Tom peeing on numerous carpets, trousers, and scarves.
6. My afternoon and evening in London with Harriet.
7. Dinner with David and Emma - the first time my brother has paid for dinner
8. Celebrating Mum's fifty five birthday at Jamies with cheesecake afterwards.
9. The Christingle service at Girton Church on Christmas Eve
10. the new catchphrase "oooo a cup of tea"
11. trip to oxford with Joyce and Peter

all children need hugs

As Frederick Douglass noted, “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

happy belated new year

aah, a new beginning. Thoughts turn to resolutions and I have many changes I want to make, however I'm always confused as to why january first has to be the day of resolutions and not, say, 12th June or October 6th or even better any day in Febuary as it is such a cruddy month (and valentines day is just pants). So, this year my resolutions are 100% selfish: firstly, complete two races (a 5k, early in the year and a 10k later in the year), secondly, draw something every day, and thirdly read Dickens.

Having a splendid, long trip to Cambridge. Currently seated on a sqidgy poof, toes warm in threadbare green socks and back warm against wahing drying on the radiator. Holby City drones on unwatched as Mum sits cross-legged knitting on a black leather sofa. Tom sleeps swaddled in his car seat, tiny shroaded feet poking out of the end. The pages of the Guardian rustle as Howard browses the daily articles. A mini-Magnum quickly disappearing as he reads. Brent enters "something's not quite right, a few too many trips to the bathroom."