In getting back to blogging my goal was was to write every day for 10 days. Discipline is difficult, but keeping up the practice is important. It was a great little trial and there is still more to explore. Life goes on!
In getting back to blogging my goal was was to write every day for 10 days. Discipline is difficult, but keeping up the practice is important. It was a great little trial and there is still more to explore. Life goes on!
Today I learned: 1) that an airplane with 230 passengers mysteriously disappeared over the Indian Ocean and there are no survivors, 2) that a German mother of three is fighting to free her husband from a life-long prison sentence, 3) that a girl I knew from middle school died of leukemia survived by her husband and 3-year old twins. All of these stories have stirred deep emotions and even deeper gratitude for the charmed life that I lead. In fact, we know we should appreciate what we have. I stop every now and then think I want to hit the “pause” button. How can we do more? How can I do more?
My husband is sad to be second best. Every bed time, our kids fight over who gets to go with me. I feel torn. Not only to have to choose between my children. I wish they would fight over him, but then how would I feel if I were second choice? I am told that time will tell, as kids tend to swing back and forth as they mature. On the subject of gatekeeper moms, I wonder how many moms actually intend to be gatekeepers and how many are trying to be the best they can be and just happen to end up that way. Hindsight is 20/20. I asked myself this question: had I known what I know now, would I have chosen not to nurse and shared my parental leave with my husband (not that this was an option, but we could have tried different avenues)? We were clearly the non-traditional couple going down the very traditional route. Where was our adventurous, innovation-loving spirit then?
My mom has been staying with us for two weeks now. Due to illness, there have been no date nights, as I had imagined we would be having at least every weekend she is here if not also during the week. We did, however, get to go shopping for a couple hours on our own. Walk through town, with wind in our hair, like two people who could – potentially – not have any children (dead giveaway was when we had to go to the children’s section of every store we visited). The change was fun. And then we ran into our friends with kids almost the same age as ours, both having to be carried because one doesn’t like to sit in the stroller and the other just woke up from a nap. Our first instinct was to help – and there we were, our childless windblown selves, playing peek-a-boo over my friend’s shoulder or offering to hold their 15-month-old. “Old” habits die hard. Or at least not in an hour and a half.
I love Saturdays. I was woken up at 6:30, so I decided I might as well make use of the morning to clean out my kids’ closets. Bring out the summer clothes, pack up the winter clothes. My son thought it was way cooler to go under his tent to role play with his dinosaurs. I was told to also play a role. Me: hi, I’m xyz (place name of the most harmless, fun, caring character you can think of), and what is your name? My son: “grrrrrr, I’m T-Rex and I am going to eat you. Proceed to him pouncing on anything that was in my hand till I had to pull my hand away for fear that it may actually be chopped off. I wonder if these narratives will ever have a happy ending?