Summer tasks

Dan and I have our work cut out for us--literally. Amidst other things, Avery needs to learn how to use scissors correctly (SCARY!) and write her name. I think she's got the 'A' down.....

Apathy

Yesterday didn't go particularly well. In short, the girls and I aren’t adjusting to our new routine (i.e. schools out). A lack of routine ultimately means that one of us (or all of us) slip into “apathetic, just get through the day” mode. Whenever I'm in apathetic mode I always look back on my day with regret. On apathetic days I’ve lost my patience more, and haven’t spent my time wisely. On apathetic days I wonder why I’m staying home with my girls. On apathetic days I resent Dan. On apathetic days I’m not much fun to be around. I care less, gripe more, smile less, and scowl more.

So, in a giving fashion, I decided to share my apathy with an unsuspecting pedicurist. I sat in the chair and just exhaled. I breathed. I contemplated my day and I felt really, really foolish, and really, really spoiled.

Staying-at-home hasn’t come without sacrifices, and whoa can I just sit on that word for a moment. Finances. Ouch. Career fulfillment. A little ouch. Isolation. You betcha.

When Dan and I decided that I’d stay at home it was pretty much a financial discussion. In short, I wouldn’t make enough to cover our daycare and related expenses. Plus, we just weren’t comfortable with the idea of outsourcing the girls’ care. I tried working for a bit after Avery was born and it was disastrous. I was stretched too thin; dropping the ball at work; dropping the ball at home. So I resigned, and wrote the tell-tale letter, “It is with great regret that..….”

Looking back, I don’t have any regrets. Most often I love being at home. I love knowing my girls. I love floating through our day. I love not missing a moment. I’m too selfish to share these moments with someone else.

And yet, I’m selfish enough to deny myself these moments by slipping into an apathetic, self-pitying mindset…..wow, something to consider.

Some moments from the last few days:

*Ave to Dan (reading her place mat): E-L-E-P-H-A-N-cross!

*Me to Ave: Why are you pressing buttons on the printer?
*Ave to me: I was trying to make some paper.

Going to Grandma's

“I’m Going to Grandma’s” was the plan. We marketed the idea to the girls by displaying a “vacation” magnet on the girls’ calendar. Every day we moved the marker closer to the vacation date. Every day we told the girls how many days we had to go.

In hindsight I guess I saw “it” coming; “it” being sickness. We were to leave on Friday, and on the Monday proceeding it, Avery threw up after a park date. The throwing up stuff seemed to be an isolated incident and we stayed in for the remainder of the week while Avery “recovered” from her cold/flu-like symptoms.

Surveying the situation I labeled it as a nuisance-type illness; the kind that a dose of Motrin seemed to do the trick to keep the patient on the up-and-up. The unknowns were: How quickly would the illness pass, and, more importantly, would Ro get it too?

And so we continued to plan, pack and gear up for the trek to Nebraska. Thursday evening was spent loading the van, anticipating an early-morning departure on Friday morning. I had pulled out my cool mom hat and had all kinds of neat toys and snacks set to entertain the girls on our ten-hour hike.

We were out of the house by 6:30 a.m. Friday morning, and made a stop at Dunkin' Donuts for a little “You ‘Kin Do It!” inspiration. I agreed to drive, and Dan was in the back of the van with the girls. Before we left I handed Dan some empty Target shopping bags, telling him that these were his "Oh Sh$t!" bags. Little did we know.......

An hour into the trip Avery started to look a little funny. Looking a little funny turned into throwing up, therefore prompting me to veer off of the highway to assess the situation. She “seemed” okay, so we traveled another ten miles, and then Romey threw up. You might say that Dan had his hands full…..

So, unlike how the little red suitcase (a precious keepsake from my Grandma Lois) said it would go, we decided to make a u-turn and head back home. We were packed, had a strategy in play, and decided to pull the plug. To say that disappointment was shared from here to Nebraska would be a major understatement. The disappointment seriously stunk, and not even multiple trips to Oberweis could diminish the feelings of “suck.”

Here’s the “good” news: we made the right choice. We’ve had a miserable weekend with two whiny, crying kids. On a positive note, they are feeling better, although Ro is cutting two molars, and in a world of mouth-hurt.

For now the suitcase is back on the shelf. We’ll try again in a month, and are really looking forward to re-uniting with Dan’s family. In the meantime, I’m back on Kleenex duty.

The Latest

Happy belated Mother’s Day! We spent Mother’s Day with my parents and brother/sister-in-law and had a great day! I even got an unexpected gift—my old “Going to Grandma’s” suitcase. Avery has now assumed possession of it, but it was fun to see a “blast from the past” that I so vividly remember. I’ll post a picture of it soon. Here's the latest update on Avery and Romey:

Avery
Avery’s last week of school is this week. Today is her last Tuesday (in the building) of her first year of school. The school year has gone by very quickly, and it was fun (interesting) to reflect on the last several months during parent-teacher conferences. I’d be lying if I didn't admit that I walked into the conference feeling a little nervous. I get little tidbits of Avery reports during drop-off/pick-up but not a full-length discussion reviewing a sheet of paper with various check boxes and notations. In true Susan-fashion I broke the ice by saying something stupid, muttering, “Well, we’re going for the most-improved award! Did we get it?” Thankfully, the teacher had (has) a good sense of humor.

The report was fairly in line with what we expected: Avery loves school and loves to play at school; Avery needs to work on sharing and playing nicely; and Avery needs to work on listening and following directions. The teacher said that Avery used to listen 5% of the time, and is now listening 75% of the time—AWESOME! I was delighted to hear that she had improved (not happy about the 5% part, but not totally surprised either). We’ve got our “to-do” list for suggested summer activities, and are already looking forward to four-year-old preschool. Have I mentioned yet that I’m utterly heartbroken that the school year is already over? I’m excited for our summer activities, but am disappointed that our Tuesday/Thursday routine will be changing.

Romey
Romey is now seventeen-months old. Romey has become a little more “dramatic” by sticking out her bottom lip and giving a sullen look when she’s not pleased. If she’s told no, she puts her hands over her eyes, and makes a pitiful fake crying sound. Our response is usually a muffled laugh as we walk out of the room. And, as expected, as soon as we walk out of the room, she stops crying. Hmmm.

Romey is also giving “kisses”, waving, playing peek-a-boo, and following commands (get your cup, bring mommy a book). She’s still lagging in verbalizing objects, her needs, etc. Romey is difficult to “motivate.” For instance, if Romey wants the ball I’m holding, and I tell her to say ball, she’ll whine for a moment, but then decides to move on to the next toy. Her body language conveys, “Forget it, Mom. I’m not saying ball. You can keep it.”

Romey is still a hopeless tag-a-long, is shy, loves her pacifier (stay tuned), and loves to cuddle. I’ve never met such a sweet, un-assuming kid.

Lesson Learned

I learned three very valuable lessons this morning:

1 – To never allow Romey to eat an entire can of mandarin oranges.

2 – To never hastily diaper Romey.

3 – To take Avery’s word when she says that Romey has a dirty diaper. And this is important for any mother of two (or more): when the older child says that the younger one has a dirty diaper it is not because he smells it (maybe) or because the older child is tracking the younger one’s bowel movements. It is because the older child can SEE it, and that, in effect, is reason enough to move quickly.

Wow, did Romey ever have a blow out this morning, made worse by the fact that I was blissfully unaware even though Avery kept telling me that Romey had a dirty diaper. All moms have been there—a major diaper blowout. Of course Romey was wearing her shoes and managed to get them good and dirty as well. These shoes are the fairly typical type of toddler shoes with lots of indentation grippers on the soles. After the aforementioned indiscretion, I flipped over Romey's shoes and had a choice to make: salvage or toss? I chose to salvage, and proceeded to use a toothpick to clean out my daughter’s shoes. Did I mention that the indentation grippers are heart shaped?

As I picked through her shoes, the following thought came to mind: I’m so glad my daughter has shoes. I’m so glad that her digestive system works. I’m so glad that we can afford mandarin oranges (not saying that mandarin oranges are expensive, but I think you understand). Most days I’d be wallowing in my mothering duties hating these types of tasks. I’m not saying I enjoyed it, but it was quickly over, the shoes look great again, and we were on to the next thing.

Perspective is such a valuable commodity. I’m glad I found some today, and am hoping that I wake up with a generous portion tomorrow too.