I should rename my blog to "Life With Ben"

This kid is something else. I can't even remember the first "Ben-ism" because there are so many and he started saying them so young.  I just never know what to expect.

Bennett has inherited all the quirkiest things about his father and I. Every obsessive tendency, every overly critical rage induced rant.  He looks just like his father, so I'm completely head over heels, especially when he gives me that squinty-eyed grin. 

What kind of kid has a cookie for a best friend and the awesomest toy ever is a "chicken plunger?" (read: turkey baster).

We have a a few challenging weeks recently.  Suddenly, Ben is full of the "I know better than you's" and I want to flush him down the toilet. No, your show is NOT more important than breakfast.  I don't care if you want to play Mario, you've been playing for 4 hours and 36 minutes and it's time to STOP! (times exaggerated).  I was baffled by these times of "everything I do has a better reason than yours" until I asked his father to help out by doing the dishes. 
"Well, you know," he says with a cocking of his neck that I haven't seen before a MILLION times.  He might as well do Ben's tisk noise when he's making a point as well.
"I can't find one of my slippers, so I have a hard time doing household chores."  WHHHAAATTTT?? ARE YOU FOUR??
"But my sock will get wet and that bothers me." 

I totally get it now.

Poor Ben also has what is referred to the "Trombley Temper".  When things aren't going his way, he has a tendency to lash out with shaking and "AAAARRRRRRRHHHHH!!!"-ing. 
"Itriedtodothisthingbutit'sbad and IT'S NOT LETTING MEEEE!!"

He loves all sorts of silly things.  The Girl scoffs at anything remotely silly; changed words to a song, jokes or teasing.  The Babe is just happy to have something to bang.  But Ben loves silliness and teasing.  And also; accessories. Hats, ties with tee shirts and belts. He wears his safety goggles to school. 

To my future daughter-in-law; I'm sorry. I have tried as best as I could, but nature wins out every time.  Sadly, my children were cursed by their grandmother before I even made an appearance.  Maybe YOU can stop the cycle.  Just don't have a boy second, I'm begging you.

Just when you think you know it all...or a least something...Ah, forget it.

So after having two kids, you have a few tricks up your sleeve, a few tools in your belt. Then you have Number Three and God thinks it's funny that you think you know what's going on. 
This week has been momentous in the life of The Babe.  He has gotten tooth #2, learned how to crawl AND how to pull up to his feet. He has been very close to crawling for some time now, he just hasn't been able to put it all together.  Who woulda thought that something as simple as a stuck toy would make the gears click? 

Now that he's officially mobile, he has decided that he's going to venture out into the big, wide world: The Kitchen. He only crossed the threshold into the kitchen twice before, even though he could army-crawl very well.  Today he is my shadow at the sink. 

At our old house, there was a small, definite path to and from the kitchen.  One gate and three closed doors later, the Family Room was a baby-safe area.  Here at the new house, the space is slightly too large for a gate, so here comes Babe.  Luckily, there is a pocket door at the top of the stairs, so I don't have to worry about that. 

I remember Maddie learning how to crawl. I got home from work and Ryan showed me mauled pink rubber ducky.  He had let her chew it as a "treat" when she would crawl correctly.  He was SO PROUD!  It took her longer to crawl than Owen, maybe 8 or 9 months because she could roll everywhere so well that she really didn't care to learn.  I don't know where she gets her stubbornness from.  Owen is at the age where I can't remember anything from Ben.  I was in a cast and miserable and I know I wrote some stuff down, but poor kid, mommy was not in her right mind.  I do  know that he was earlier, closer to 6 months.  Owen splits the difference of everything Maddie and Ben did.  Maddie got her tooth at 6 months, Ben at 8, Owen at 7.  I could have predicted it. 

The Babe is also not sleeping quite through the night. His sibs were by and before 6 months.  So I'm still feeling the sleep deprivation.  He actually slept better at 3 months!
He doesn't eat baby food.  Nothing pureed or mushy.  I felt bad about not making it myself for Maddie and Ben, and when I do make it for Owen, the kid won't eat it. Huh. So much for Mommy guilt.  He also learned his pincer grasp on Thursday. Now he can feed himself, which is awesome.  Here we come, Cheerioland!!

 It's amazing how cool it is to watch something you made grow into a person.  It's frustrating, challenging, exhausting, but at the end of 18 years, maybe we'll get a break.  And hopefully we've done a good enough job that we won't have to worry.  Or not too much.  Who'm I kidding? I will never stop worrying!!

Mamma's don't get no sick days.

Crapity crap. I have a sinus infection. And yet....

I got up early to feed the baby, get kids up and ready for school, one on the bus, two in the car for preschool, Oops, almost forgot to brush my teeth, my face hurts so bad. Drop one off, get one down for nap, have brother over, pick up from preschool, have lunch with mother in law and help her drop off the (our) van at the dealer. snacks, nursing, entertaining, answering 7 zillion questions, diaper changes, getting OFF the bus. Oh, did I mention my head has consistently felt like it was going to explode??

Part of my problem is that I so rarely get sick.  There needs to be a service for sick Mom's. But who could do YOUR job?  Usually, not even your husband. There is NO one who has it down like you. No one can answer the questions, find the homework, NOT make chicken nuggets because only one kid likes them.  It is practically impossible to parent from the bedroom. You might as well lay on the couch. In that case, you might as well so the dishes because you KNOW there isn't anyone that is going to do them!  


I need to do so about 438 things, but I feel like I have some extra gravity holding me down right now. I can barely keep my eyes open. Not because I'm tired, but for some reason they just keep closing.  I can't take meds because of nursing, and even when I did, guess what? didn't help.  I know taking a hot shower would help clear me up, at least temporarily, but I don't trust my legs for that long. I know I need to pack up Maddie for school tomorrow, but I don't have to make her lunch, so her snack and water bottle and folder can wait til the morning. Oh, yeah, the morning. After NOT getting a real full nights sleep, I'll get up, get Maddie off and go volunteer at her school in the library. Because I said I would, so I'll be there.  Because who else will if I don't??

Best laid plans.

E

Ever plan a day out with your kids?  You plan meals, times, driving, budget.  You pour your precious time into making a fun, educational, tear-free time.  

First, the baby needs to see the doctor.  So it pushes us back a few hours.  No biggie.  But the cost of being us all night with him is waking up an hour later than I planned.  Well, I can forgo the shower.  Call the doctor, appointment is about an hour later than expected.  Ok, well that makes up for the sleeping-in time and, Hey! I have time for a shower now!  Feed the baby, quietly get in the shower, because the big kids are still sleeping, strangely enough.  But as I start washing my hair, I hear screaming.  Apparently, they big kids are awake and have christened the new day by fighting over the computer.  I should have gone back to bed.  

After waiting (and waiting.  They fit me in, so I shouldn't complain), Owen has an ear infection.  First of any of my kids. Goodie!  In the car, Owen is screaming, Ben is requesting we go home because of the need to play Mario "Wii-hii",  No, we're going to the Dino museum.  We don't want to go to see the dinos!  Too bad.  We are GOING to have fun, and we're almost there.  

We get in the building, "OOO! turtle skeletons! Look, Mommy there are---I want to go home." I literally have to grab Ben's shirt to stop him from running out.  He is afraid of the T-Rex.

 We have a meltdown about chips in the cafe.  Owen decides, while Ben is screaming, that it is a good idea to join him.  I would like to cry as well. We have only seen about 1/4 of the museum and I'm done.  

What happened to my good intentions? Don't they realize I am trying to have FUN with them?  Why is it so hard?  It makes me not want to leave the house!

The Rocking Chair

My mom and her husband are moving.  Well, less moving than an extended working vacation.  She is following him around at his new job, which is located in Texas, then Vegas, then California; for now. My mother lives with few material possessions, she lives lightly and is packing up her belongings for storage for when she returns in the future.  She asked me to take two pieces of furniture that she didn't want to put into storage, a hope chest of her grandmother on her father's side, and a rocking chair from her mother's mother.      

Jim brought over the chair today and I put it in Owen's room, because I don't have a chair to rock him in.  I have sat in this chair many times, most recently last week at mom's house.  But today, in my house, with my child, I had a thought.  I wondered if my grandmother ever thought her great granddaughter would be rocking her great-great grandson in this chair? 

I knew my great-grandmother Throckmartin, the first Mary (that I know of).  She was over 40 when she had my grandmother, the second Mary, but she lived to be 95.  Oddly enough, grandma Mary Alice died when she was only 59.  I remember Great-grandma pushing me in her wheelchair (that she didn't really need) at the nursing home.  According to my grandfather, she was not a pleasant woman, but to me, she was a tiny old woman who lived in a tall building and couldn't hear when she took her hearing aids out. I don't really know much about her, born Mary Plafchan around 1896, married in 1919 to Andrew Kubina, had Jennie and Andy.  Her first husband died, and in her 40's, married Roy Throckmartin a police officer originally from Indiana.  I have a feeling that she was not thrilled to be pregnant with my grandma. 

But I think of her as a woman my age, with a young daughter, a baby son.  Did she rock her baby as she nursed him and look deep into his eyes, imagining his future? Were the strains of motherhood making her tired?  The '20's weren't an easy time to be a mother, handwashing diapers, clothes, cooking with no modern conveniences.  I think I have it hard now, but I'm sure any mom back then would be in heaven if she were in my shoes. 
This Grandma is the first, while my daughter is the fifth "Mary".  My mom was called "little" Mary, my grandma Mary Alice, myself the only not official Mary, and my own daughter, Mary Madeline.  I am proud to be in this lineage of women, proud to have passed on the legacy of a strong, beautiful name, proud to sit in the same chair and rock my child. 

Invisible

My job as a stay-at-home mom  is to make everything invisible.  The goal is to make it seem like no one lives here.  No dishes on the counter, no clothes in the hamper, no dust on the TV.  No one uses these things.  One person (me) has the job of making our house seem like there are no inhabitants.  I spend the days undoing the signs of our existence, only to have it redone.  WHY? Then I figured it out. 
We DO live here!!
As neat and tidy as I make it, as many hours as I put in scrubbing on my hands and knees, it will never end, I will never have a clean house.  BECAUSE WE LIVE HERE. 
I cleaned the kitchen before a visit from my cousin this weekend and before she came we had to eat lunch.  So immediately there were dishes, crumbs and (eek!) children eating food at the table! They get crumbs on the floor.  They get stains on the chairs.  I could try to put them in bubbles, but they'd just get fingerprints on them.
I have a hard time justifying an hour long task that will be immediately undone as soon as I finish. I get extremely frustrated.  I like to see the results of my hard work.  Knowing it will have to be redone makes me want to not do it. 

A New Chapter

I have been without a computer or internet (with the exception of my husbands Droid) for three months...So much has happened in that short amount of time, so many things I wanted to say and was unable. This pregnancy had gotten me exhausted to the point of no return, but thankfully, that chapter in my life is over.

Owen Henry was born April 3, 2010 at 12:01 pm after 7 hours of labor. He weighed 7 pounds 15 ounces and was 21 1/2 inches long. In the week that we've been home, he's fallen into place in our family like he was always there.

Does every mother feel this way? Do we all feel like we are giving 7,000% percent yet nothing is accomplished? Do we all get walked all over, hearts stomped on daily, yet expected to give some more after all is said and done?

How can it be that I feel emotionally drained after staying at home all day, yet the house is a disaster, the kids are bad and I'm a wreck? What have I accomplished? I haven't taken a shower in three days because someone always needs one more than I do, or the laundry needs to be done (when doesn't it?) or the dishwasher need to be run. Which are all thing I need to do anyway, so when do I have the time and when I do where does the energy come from?

A friend recently put as her Facebook status that she just wants to be appreciated. Ha. Between a messy house, wild children and looking like a homeless person, who can appreciate that? Yet all our time and evergy goes out each day, pushing us backward with each forward step. If we do manage to get ONE thing done, a miracle, it is now expected to be the norm.

We spend 24 hours on call with no break, no stopping the constant worrying, no minute to think what might be best for us. We take care of every minute detail. Is it any wonder that when something is not done right, or completely, or at all, this is upsetting to us? Who is looking out for us? Who wipes our tears?

We get to live with the pain of everyday life, the ups and the mostly downs. The guilt of feeling inadequate, of failing your children. We are forced to do things we don't like, say things we don't want to, and then hate ourselves.

When our lives are spent putting others first, why is it surprising that it hurts when we aren't put first with others. I want to scream,"What more do you want, my blood?!"

My favorite things...part one...mommy style

My favorite part of the morning #1...Waking my sleeping daughter for school.
Maddie is a hard waker. She gets that from me. We like to sleep, we like to cuddle, we don't like to get out of our warm cocoons and face the cold, hard, dark morning. Ryan is a shock waker, who likes the EH EH EH EH of the alarm to make him jump out of bed. That kills me. So I decided I would wake my girl up for school in a more gentle way. I climb into bed with her and love her awake. I love that she, in her sleep, rolls over and throws her arm around me.We have a nice calm wake up and start the day that way.

My favorite part of the morning #2... After all of our things are dine and she's waiting at the bus stop, she climbs on the bus with a coment to the driver (who doesn't seem to know what to make of her) and sits at the window. She turns to me and we blow kisses to each other. Then we catch them and save them! I still get a little pain in my heart watching the bus drive away.

But Ben usually makes up for it...Favorite part of the morning #3...Snuggling on the couch with Ben. He gets his blanket and pillow and sets up a little place for us while I am out at the road with Sister. It's a good alone bonding time for us. Plus I get to doze.

Bad day

Had a bad one with the kids... woke up at 5:30, never went back to sleep and fought all day with kids who got up at 6:45 instead of the usual 8 and 9. Mommy was cranky because she doesn't do well without sleep either, but the kids...I think I was speaking Chinese all day because they acted like they did not hear one word I said. I got tired of yelling and went to spanking. Do Not Pass GO, Do Not Collect $200. Do Not Call CPS Because You Said You Would Bash Your Daughters Face In. Right, I know. I didn't mean it and I was so mad I didn't know what I was saying. I couldn't reach her anyway. It just came out of my mouth. I'm not proud of my actions. I am proud of myself that when we got home, I laid down the law, doled out punishments just like I said I would (sometimes I threaten, but don't follow through), and then talked rationally, but firmly. After spanks aways come hugs. but not until they've had a few minutes to sink in :)
I still feel like crap. I feel ignored. I feel useless. I feel ineffective as a parent. I'm worn down, tired and tomorrow is going to start very soon and I'm not ready for it yet.

Ryan and I continued to paint this evening and as we were painting, Maddie and Ben were watching the BZZZ movie. That's Ben talk for The Bee movie. at the end, they sing "Here Comes The Sun. Maddie dances and sings, and felt a little better. This has been a long cold lonely winter. It does seem like years since it's been here, but it's coming and we'll all feel better with some sun shining on our faces.

I'm hoping tomorrow is a productive day. We want to move in next weekend, so we want to get as much done as possible. The hardwood floor guy is coming on Monday. I ripped up the carpet in the smallest bedroom and it already looks so good! I can't wait to be moved in. Ben can't either, apparently. Every time we leave in the evening, he complains about wanting to stay at the "Blue House". Our house is not blue. The paint was blue in the front room, but it's brown now. I think he misheard us say new house, but he's called it that since we went their the first time. I don't mind. I just am so happy that he is excited!

Different.

I don't love my children any more or less than the other. True, I love them differently because they are different people, but I don't love them any AMOUNT different.

Discipline on the other hand is a more complicated issue.

Why do I shrink at the idea of punishing Ben, but almost feel better when I punish Maddie?

It's not something that is new. I have always felt a little satisfaction when I swat her behind, or pinch her bum. I always feel bad when I do the same to Ben. For both, I gather them in my arms and talk to them about it. But I feel this smug-ness after I punish her.

Do I feel she is intentionally choosing bad behavior? Mostly yes. I don't like to punish for accidents. Carelessness, maybe. She thinks it out, chooses the wrong thing. Ben's behavior is mostly tantrums, not hurting others (or taking away). I think I am to blame for some of these for not understanding.

This is not to say I don't discipline Ben. I spanked him at the store last week when he ran away three times. I try not to discipline (spank) in anger, but this time I had lost it. Mostly, I can grab him, hold on to him and figure out why he's flipping out. Maddie never really tantrum-ed out like Ben does. She was just intentionally bad.

Tonight she hit him for no apparent reason. She was pissed because he got to use the Wii wheel. She wanted him to play with a no-battery remote, like wee occasionally do. She flipped when he actually played for real.

I did not handle the discipline, which was a pinch. She said to Ryan "You hurt my feelings and my heart. You need to say you're sorry!"

This may seem cruel, but I have implemented a "do as you do" approach. If you hit Ben, I'm going to hit you. If you push him down, I'm going to push you down. So you know how it feels. I've only had to do it once or twice.

On the other hand, they are both very considerate of each other. Ben got a cookie today and insisted that sister have one too. At the dentist, Maddie picked out a Spiderman sticker for Ben. Why the polarization? Love/Hate. Pick one please so I know what to expect!

A new worry.

TMI Alert: This is about poo.

Something has been nagging my mommy brain for a little while.

I have always kept a careful watch on my children's bowel movements. Not obsessively, but I watched Dr. Oz and he confirmed my suspicions: a happy colon is a happy body.

Ben does not have a happy colon. At first I caulked it up to baby-poo. Then, when I asked his doctor, she suggested maybe he ate a lot of fruit? Yes. Could be the issue. When I took fruit away, nothing changed. Hm. Then my cousin Andy and his wife Amy came over to visit. Amy has Celiac disease. She explained it to me in greater detail and I became concerned that Ben may have something related.

Then, today when he was returned to me, he poo'd excessively. 4 times, all weird, full of non-digested food. Peanuts, oats, cherry(I think). No poo just food. Weird. I called mom and asked her what she fed him, anything different. No. But she said the poo had been weird all weekend.

I called the pediatrician.
Now we have an appointment with a gastroenterologist. Eh.

Web MD (the worst website ever for a mother with a potentially sick child) suggested it could be Celiac disease, or Crohns. Or maybe an allergy.

Please be an allergy.

He doesn't seem sick. Or different. So happy to wrap his tiny arms around me and squeeze. I really did miss them so much. This will be another hurdle to cross. Another worry to add to the list.
Please send some prayers his way.

Leavin'.. On A Jet Plane

So tomorrow We leave for our long awaited trip. Everything is ready, we are sooo excited. Mom came and got the kids, she's going to be going back and forth between her house and here as needed. So I only packed an overnight bag, gave Mimi the instructions and sent them off.

Here's the trouble. I miss them already.

I think I would have an easier time if the cared that they were going to see me for an extended period of time. Now, I don't mean crying or fussing, but maybe a half-hearted kiss would count for something! Neither of them even really wanted to kiss me. They were like, Oh, whatever.

I do love that my kids are independent, easy going little things. But give a mom a break!

So off I go, into the great blue beyond. I need this break so badly. The monsters will be fine without me. Probably better than fine. XO babies!
My mom just called. She just got to her house and Ben is passed out. He's also wearing his new sunglasses, which probably helped. I think it takes about 6 minutes to get from here to there :)

All around me.

In light of recent events, I find myself surrounded by babies and pregnant ladies. I am trying, because I love both, to not feel jealous or slighted. But some days, like today, I am overcome with emotions. Happy for friends expecting, wishing I was in the same boat, comparing symptoms and stats.

Maybe I was supposed to be around to help. Maybe I am, as usual, the strong one, the knowledge keeper, ever ready to lend my hand. And Lord knows, she will need it! If I were also pregnant (still) I wouldn't be able to be there as I was last time.

It's hard when God takes away from you and gives to others. I have so many blessings, but well.... you know.

This will take some thinking and praying. Sure, I want to have another, but I am terrified of the risk.

I cried out with no reply
And I can't feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here and I'm never alone

Eh this is getting more and more difficult. Just like then pre-surgery, I thought it was over, I thought I could move on, but it gets brought up and hurts again. I thought I could be ok, and sometimes I am. Now I can see what might have been, be reminded of what I lost. And through this I am feeling bad for feeling like this, wanting to be so happy for my friends, and I am I really am. I love you! Please understand this is going to be a little hard for me.

I really think this is the first time I've cried.

Pick your battles.

As we speak, my 2 year old is eating chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with mozzarella sprinkles for lunch. The other two are happily eating their Pb and J's and mandarin oranges. Ben, who did not want breakfast, suddenly decided at 11:00 that he needed a hot dog. Yesterday they had turkey bratwurst for lunch. Guess who ate two? Guess how many are left? That's right. None. Enter giant tantrum due to lack of said hot dog. I showed him everything else for lunch in the house. He sobbed "h-h-hot doooog!" Then he saw the chocolate sauce in the fridge and wanted it on his Spiderman Popsicles. Hmm. Not a good choice, so I pulled out the ice cream, thinking at least he'll get some dairy. NONONONO. We went through the whole kitchen again. He stopped when he saw the cheese, when I was showing him there were no hot dogs. He pulled out the shredded Mozzarella. "Do you want grilled cheese?" No, and he points to the ice cream. Ew. But I opened the bag for him and let him do it. He asked for seconds.

This makes me seem like a giant pushover. ~sigh~ Not my intention, but I have been struggling with patience for a while so I've decided to try some different tactics. Screaming, punishing and frustration did not seem to be working. Patience, love and acceptance doesn't either. But I'm sticking it out for a while, hoping something will change. Ben isn't quite as bad as he used to be. I let him play on the computer this morning with a promise that as soon as he was done we'd get dressed. We he came up a little while later, he got dressed no problem. I used to insist that he do what I wanted right now but I realized I can be more flexible, and we can have less fighting. We'll see. It's hit or miss.

Then there's Maddie. I intrust to her a marker for writing her Valentines yesterday. This morning I discover she's streaked her hair blue. I'm so disappointed in her! I didn't punish her, but I told her how upset I was. Since then, all I've heard was "I'm being good, aren't I mom?" Ug.

All of this makes me feel like a giant failure. It doesn't seem to matter what I do, who's advice I take, none of it works. They don't listen when I want them to, they throw fit's when we need to leave, cry over nothing. Is the definition of "good mother" how well your children behave? Isn't that a reflection of your skills? Or is it just, 'Well, they're alive, I'm doing great!' ?