We made it! After a bit of a rough journey, we are here. It's a "funny" story that I will post in the next day or so, but we are safe, sound and happy in my mother's house. It feels so good....albeit really quiet :)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Home Sweet California
We made it! After a bit of a rough journey, we are here. It's a "funny" story that I will post in the next day or so, but we are safe, sound and happy in my mother's house. It feels so good....albeit really quiet :)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Hair and Taxidermy
I afford myself few luxuries. I don't get regular mani's and pedi's, I don't have an esthetician, and I don't shop very often (even though I LOVE it). In fact, I think the last time I owned a pair of boots was in 2002. I do like nice things though, I'm more of a quality person than quantity. Meaning that I would rather have 3 pairs of nice designer jeans than 12 pairs of GAP jeans, or one Splendid tank top versus 5 Massimo tanks from Target (have you tried those though? They are really awesome). I am a brat when it comes to two things: My hair and my food. When I grocery shop, I buy mostly all-natural or organic, and when comes to my hair I only use Bumble & Bumble and Aveda. We live on student loans, so believe me when I say that we cannot afford these things generally, but we make exceptions in other areas (i.e. we don't go out EVER, then "entertainment" category in our budget is basically VOID).
In California I had been going to the same hair stylist, Steven, for 10 years. My sister and my mother have been going to him for the same amount of time if not longer. Moving to NYC made me bite the bullet and find a new colorist and stylist, and it was a bit of a challenge. Because Steven was trained in color at Bumble & Bumble in Manhattan, I went to their site to find an in-network salon... meaning that they only use Bumble products and their stylists were mostly trained at Bumble. If you find a good thing, stick with it, you know? I found Blackstones after a bit of a search. It looked interesting and artsy. I didn't want to go to a salon where there were fake Gucci and Louis Vuitton paraphernalia for sale at a banquet table upon entrance, or where the girls come up to you with their fake boobs and bleached aura. Hair styling is an art, and if I'm going to pay a decent chunk of change for it, I would prefer it be by someone who takes their profession seriously. Obviously I am generalizing, but this is coming from an exact experience that I had, and it was the worst. Experience. Ever. One that would need it's own post.
Blackstones is located in the East Village. I took a cab that day because it was raining and the nearest subway station to us is 4 or 5 (city) blocks away from my building. I was so excited to get there, and to have the day to myself to actually get a little pampered that I didn't even mind that it was pouring out. It was a NYC experience, to say the least.
I arrived a little early so I decided to grab a coffee. The receptionist at the salon sent me down a block to this teeny tiny little coffee shop, with room in it just enough for 3 standing patrons. There was a line coming out of the door, which usually means that it's worth waiting for. When I finally got to the counter, I realized that there were two baristas, one for espresso and one for the drip coffee. This coffee joint takes their "drip" coffee quite literally, putting the filter & grounds, and hot water directly into the individual cups. When I ordered a soy latte with Splenda, you'd have thought I asked for the Cheshire Cat on toast, the way everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look. (Suddenly I had a Soup Nazi flash and thought they would start screaming "NO COFFEE FOR YOU!). They don't have soy, or lowfat milk, or Splenda. They only carry whole milk and real sugar. So I left with my whole milk latte with real sugar, and I was really happy. It may been the most delectable coffee drink I have ever had.
My stylist, Lexi and my colorist, John were ready for my consultation when I got back to the salon. I didn't have a chance to really look at my surroundings until this point and WILL YOU GET A LOAD OF THIS SALON.
Those are dead animals on the wall. Along with (hair? animal?) cutting scissors and other instruments and gadgets that I really didn't want to even know about, truthfully. I was trying to focus on my new InStyle Mag that I never have time to read at home, but I was way, way too distracted. I couldn't take my eyes off of the design and decorations in the salon itself. Apparently Jon, the owner of the salon, was a taxidermist before becoming a hair stylist. You know, cuz that makes perfect sense. Whatever the case, I tip my hat to him. He has passion and he is good at what he does. Even stuffing road kill.
I nearly put a pock mark in the ceiling when I saw this just as he was about to rinse my foils. Good times.
Despite a few heart palpitations, I left the salon happy. Yes it was kind of gross, no I don't like looking at dead animals, but the people there was amazingly talented and really nice. I even liked my hair. The whole experience made me love New York City that much more. What a cool place this is.
Photo Disclaimer: I know the quality of these photos blows. I didn't think to bring my Canon, so all I had on me was my iPhone. Maybe next time.
In California I had been going to the same hair stylist, Steven, for 10 years. My sister and my mother have been going to him for the same amount of time if not longer. Moving to NYC made me bite the bullet and find a new colorist and stylist, and it was a bit of a challenge. Because Steven was trained in color at Bumble & Bumble in Manhattan, I went to their site to find an in-network salon... meaning that they only use Bumble products and their stylists were mostly trained at Bumble. If you find a good thing, stick with it, you know? I found Blackstones after a bit of a search. It looked interesting and artsy. I didn't want to go to a salon where there were fake Gucci and Louis Vuitton paraphernalia for sale at a banquet table upon entrance, or where the girls come up to you with their fake boobs and bleached aura. Hair styling is an art, and if I'm going to pay a decent chunk of change for it, I would prefer it be by someone who takes their profession seriously. Obviously I am generalizing, but this is coming from an exact experience that I had, and it was the worst. Experience. Ever. One that would need it's own post.
Blackstones is located in the East Village. I took a cab that day because it was raining and the nearest subway station to us is 4 or 5 (city) blocks away from my building. I was so excited to get there, and to have the day to myself to actually get a little pampered that I didn't even mind that it was pouring out. It was a NYC experience, to say the least.
I arrived a little early so I decided to grab a coffee. The receptionist at the salon sent me down a block to this teeny tiny little coffee shop, with room in it just enough for 3 standing patrons. There was a line coming out of the door, which usually means that it's worth waiting for. When I finally got to the counter, I realized that there were two baristas, one for espresso and one for the drip coffee. This coffee joint takes their "drip" coffee quite literally, putting the filter & grounds, and hot water directly into the individual cups. When I ordered a soy latte with Splenda, you'd have thought I asked for the Cheshire Cat on toast, the way everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look. (Suddenly I had a Soup Nazi flash and thought they would start screaming "NO COFFEE FOR YOU!). They don't have soy, or lowfat milk, or Splenda. They only carry whole milk and real sugar. So I left with my whole milk latte with real sugar, and I was really happy. It may been the most delectable coffee drink I have ever had.
My stylist, Lexi and my colorist, John were ready for my consultation when I got back to the salon. I didn't have a chance to really look at my surroundings until this point and WILL YOU GET A LOAD OF THIS SALON.
Those are dead animals on the wall. Along with (hair? animal?) cutting scissors and other instruments and gadgets that I really didn't want to even know about, truthfully. I was trying to focus on my new InStyle Mag that I never have time to read at home, but I was way, way too distracted. I couldn't take my eyes off of the design and decorations in the salon itself. Apparently Jon, the owner of the salon, was a taxidermist before becoming a hair stylist. You know, cuz that makes perfect sense. Whatever the case, I tip my hat to him. He has passion and he is good at what he does. Even stuffing road kill.
I nearly put a pock mark in the ceiling when I saw this just as he was about to rinse my foils. Good times.
Despite a few heart palpitations, I left the salon happy. Yes it was kind of gross, no I don't like looking at dead animals, but the people there was amazingly talented and really nice. I even liked my hair. The whole experience made me love New York City that much more. What a cool place this is.
Photo Disclaimer: I know the quality of these photos blows. I didn't think to bring my Canon, so all I had on me was my iPhone. Maybe next time.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Cabin Fever
This past weekend was chilly and wet. The littles and I also came down with nasty colds, so the combination of the three left us home bound for three days straight. Three days straight in a teeny apartment? We got more than a little bored. But it was fun (at times, AHEM).
Stickers everywhere. It is apparently much more fun to cover yourself and your little sister in stickers rather than put them on boring ol' paper. And the fun of removing them? Priceless.
Yes, those are Christmas cupcake cups. Like I said, we didn't get out at all, so we just mixed a couple of holidays. I have no doubt that Bubba will be slightly confused when Christmas does arrive... my dad just came last weekend and brought the kids their Christmas gifts to open. I'm pretty sure he won't mind though... Christmas twice a year is never a bad thing for a 2 year old!
Stickers everywhere. It is apparently much more fun to cover yourself and your little sister in stickers rather than put them on boring ol' paper. And the fun of removing them? Priceless.
Yes, those are Christmas cupcake cups. Like I said, we didn't get out at all, so we just mixed a couple of holidays. I have no doubt that Bubba will be slightly confused when Christmas does arrive... my dad just came last weekend and brought the kids their Christmas gifts to open. I'm pretty sure he won't mind though... Christmas twice a year is never a bad thing for a 2 year old!
Sunday, October 18, 2009
A Love Story
Four years ago, I was a floundering mess. Although I had a decent job, I had just gotten out of an unhealthy relationship with a man and was trying desperately to find the path that would lead to my happiness and certainty of my future. I just didn't know it. I was 26 years old and living in San Francisco, doing what most young, single people do in an amazing city. I was working full time managing an Endodontic practice and part time in retail sales on the weekend at an adorable boutique on Union Street. While I worked at the boutique to fund my clothes habit, it was a perfect venue for meeting new friends. I was going out a lot... from Taco Tuesdays to Martini Saturdays, no night was spared for just laying low. I can't say that I actually went out every single night, but you get the idea. I attended some fantastic events, from the opening of the Bliss Spa in the W Hotel to watching Johnny Mosely snowboard down the streets of SF, to attending the wedding of the Attorney General of California, Jerry Brown. I felt like I owned that city. The truth is, though, that while I am social and I like meeting new people and doing fun things, I have always craved home. Nearly three times a week I traveled an hour south to see my mother and sister in the town that I grew up in. We would laugh and enjoy my mother's home cooked Greek meals, and on occasion we would watch a flick and scarf down homemade popcorn.
In December of the same year, I was in my home town for our company Christmas party. As per tradition on most weekend nights around the holidays, most people go to the bars in town and meet up with old high school classmates. I was less interested in the actual Christmas party than I was going out afterwards to see old friends. Bar after bar, conversation after conversation, the night was getting stale and it was time to move the party to a friends house. On this particular night, the party moved to the home of my very close friend Stephanie, who also happens to be the sister of an ex-boyfriend of mine. I was really tired and wanting to head back to my mother's house when I heard someone beat-boxing on the karaoke machine. This beat boxer was terrible, but the it was absolutely hilarious and impossible to look away. I exchanged a few glances and smiles with this beat boxer and before I knew it I was engrossed in conversation with him (after his performance, of course). As it turns out we attended the same high school and our respective best friends were siblings. How is it that I had never met him before?! I gave him my number, called a cab and went to my mother's home for the night. The next day, he called me. And the day after that, and the day after that. We exchanged our love for The Dude in the Big Lebowski and music. We went on hikes, to baseball games, and before I knew it I was having dinner with him at his parent's house. Two months into the relationship, we took a trip to Hawaii to visit all of his college buddies (he attended University of Hawaii), and a month after that we drove to Southern California to meet his extended family. I was totally, completely in love with this man.
The night I met Mr. Beat Boxer. With Sue from Motherhood and Me!
Everything was going so well even though I had been laid off from my job at the Endodontic practice, until I started getting sick. I was throwing up several times a day and completely exhausted. Because I had been on birth control, I didn't think that I could be pregnant, but the rule of elimination left us with the option of taking a test. Two pink lines. We were both in a state of shock, especially because he had big dreams of going to dental school and I, well, I wasn't prepared. We made the decision to have the baby together and get married. While it wasn't a decision that came as easily as what to have for dinner, the alternative was never really an option either. That August, we were married. I altered my wedding gown around my pregnant tummy and walked down the aisle on the beach to exchange vows with the man of my dreams. It wasn't my dream wedding, it wasn't my dream wedding gown, but it was perfect because of him, and me, and the miracle that we had created.
Fast forward to today. October 18th, 2009, nearly four years after I met my husband. New York City, dental school, two beautiful children. It is not common to have children while attending graduate school, but people do it. It wasn't part of the "plan" and we've faced many obstacles because of it, but it is our life and I couldn't be more proud. I never, ever thought my life would look like this but I always dreamed that it would. I suppose I never thought I would be so lucky, so blessed. Life has a crazy way of flipping the script just when you think you have the handle on it, but I have learned to trust, and I am so grateful.
In December of the same year, I was in my home town for our company Christmas party. As per tradition on most weekend nights around the holidays, most people go to the bars in town and meet up with old high school classmates. I was less interested in the actual Christmas party than I was going out afterwards to see old friends. Bar after bar, conversation after conversation, the night was getting stale and it was time to move the party to a friends house. On this particular night, the party moved to the home of my very close friend Stephanie, who also happens to be the sister of an ex-boyfriend of mine. I was really tired and wanting to head back to my mother's house when I heard someone beat-boxing on the karaoke machine. This beat boxer was terrible, but the it was absolutely hilarious and impossible to look away. I exchanged a few glances and smiles with this beat boxer and before I knew it I was engrossed in conversation with him (after his performance, of course). As it turns out we attended the same high school and our respective best friends were siblings. How is it that I had never met him before?! I gave him my number, called a cab and went to my mother's home for the night. The next day, he called me. And the day after that, and the day after that. We exchanged our love for The Dude in the Big Lebowski and music. We went on hikes, to baseball games, and before I knew it I was having dinner with him at his parent's house. Two months into the relationship, we took a trip to Hawaii to visit all of his college buddies (he attended University of Hawaii), and a month after that we drove to Southern California to meet his extended family. I was totally, completely in love with this man.
The night I met Mr. Beat Boxer. With Sue from Motherhood and Me!
Everything was going so well even though I had been laid off from my job at the Endodontic practice, until I started getting sick. I was throwing up several times a day and completely exhausted. Because I had been on birth control, I didn't think that I could be pregnant, but the rule of elimination left us with the option of taking a test. Two pink lines. We were both in a state of shock, especially because he had big dreams of going to dental school and I, well, I wasn't prepared. We made the decision to have the baby together and get married. While it wasn't a decision that came as easily as what to have for dinner, the alternative was never really an option either. That August, we were married. I altered my wedding gown around my pregnant tummy and walked down the aisle on the beach to exchange vows with the man of my dreams. It wasn't my dream wedding, it wasn't my dream wedding gown, but it was perfect because of him, and me, and the miracle that we had created.
Fast forward to today. October 18th, 2009, nearly four years after I met my husband. New York City, dental school, two beautiful children. It is not common to have children while attending graduate school, but people do it. It wasn't part of the "plan" and we've faced many obstacles because of it, but it is our life and I couldn't be more proud. I never, ever thought my life would look like this but I always dreamed that it would. I suppose I never thought I would be so lucky, so blessed. Life has a crazy way of flipping the script just when you think you have the handle on it, but I have learned to trust, and I am so grateful.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
We're Leavin'...
... on a jet plane... I'll only be gone for two weeks. Yes, I caved. I've decided to take the kids back to California to spend Halloween with grandparents and friends. And nicer weather than the 40 degree rainy misery that we are currently experiencing... but I digress. This was a decision that I vacillated on quite a bit, but in the end I decided to go because a happy mother is a better mother. Really this is a trip home for me. I need the family connection (OK I miss my BFF's, mom and sister)... I need the break from the constant cleaning/cooking/laundry on repeat every single day. I know that all of you other mother's and housewives do the very same thing yet don't need breaks.. but I? I am not one of you. I already consider myself a failure of sorts to have to go home, but truly I am not very happy right now. I miss my own husband and he is HERE*, in this home for like, 12 hours** a day! With the daily grind of grocery shopping, preschool, park visits and the things I mentioned earlier, I'm just ready for a reality check. Maybe moving to New York City with two babies and a husband in dental school WAS my reality check, so be it. I'm going to have to regress.
*PHYSICALLY he is here.
**He is studying many of those hours, and rest he is sleeping
In my head I had prepared myself for this challenge and I would just "be strong and deal with it". I can't even pinpoint what exactly the issue is, other than just feeling extremely overwhelmed. There are feelings of loneliness and frustration and then there is the exhaustion. I have tried to talk myself out of taking this trip because really, we couldn't afford the tickets. I didn't want to pull J out of his new preschool that he loves, or away from his new friends. I am worried that taking them back to California will be confusing to both children. We decided to go for it despite those concerns because Dr. J has a HUGE test at the beginning of November, and he will be gone day and night (late nights at the library) for an entire week and it would be easy on him if we were away. We'll stay with my mother and go to the pumpkin patch and trick-or-treat in our old 'hood. I am hoping that going back to California will actually build a sense of security in the kids that our old CA home will still be there even though we said goodbye to it. I'm really happy and really excited despite the tremendous guilt, and I know that it will be good for all of us in the end or I wouldn't have done it.
It really bugs me to complain like this. I don't really mean to complain but I'm sure it sounds that way. I am grateful every single day for my healthy, amazing family. I am grateful every day that Dr. J is in a fantastic dental school and that he is smart and dedicated to making a better future for all of us. I am grateful that Bubba is in a fantastic preschool, and that they have a wonderful pedi, and that we live in a nice apartment. I am grateful that I don't have to work for these first few months and I can stay home with my children while we adjust to city life. There isn't a moment that goes by that I am not reminded of each and every one of these things. That said, what the heck is my problem? Why can't I cut it? I have made friends with other mothers at Bubba's preschool, I love our home and the city. I'm even digging the extreme weather (I know that this is just a taste so I'm enjoying it while it's still NEW to me. Ask me again in December). Maybe it's all just a part of the adjustment and the complete stress of trying my damnedest to make a happy. healthy, clean and comfortable home for my family. My standards skyrocketed when we moved here, and I think I've just about run myself into the ground trying to meet them every day. I'm not going back to CA to skirt my Cinderella duties or so that I don't have to pack lunches every single day just because we are leaving the building (well that is part of it). I'm going back for the mental break from it all. To relax and know that everything will be just fine if I happen to leave the Tylenol at home during a morning outing (Z has a history with Febrile Seizures) or that the "Bad Mommy" fairy isn't going to come beat me with a stick if the breakfast dishes are left in the sink past noon. There is a confidence that comes with making a house a home, and while I am making progress, I'm not there yet. I just hope to find my NYC groove sooner rather than later for all of our sakes! Maybe then I'll lose the 10 years that it's aged me in the process ;)
While I'm on this subject, I'm curious; What kinds of things do you do for yourself? I would love some insight and ideas from other mothers.
Thank you for listening! I love all of your comments and encouraging words, it makes all the difference- Thank you.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
This Beautiful Boy
I am so proud of him and all the changes that we have gone through lately. He continues to surprise me and inspire me every single day.
I love you, sweet Jack!
I love you, sweet Jack!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Many Ups, A Few Downs
I haven't done an actual update on our life here in a while. Besides being busy with company for the last month, it's very difficult to even assess where I am mentally. Lots of things changing, most obviously and notably the weather. I have a feeling that October is going to be quite the spectacle around here, and for that I cannot wait. I've even begun finding leaves in shades of bright orange and yellow, and I'm trying to actually enjoy and savor it rather than COMPLETELY FREAKING PANIC about the upcoming winter.
I can tell you that Dr. J is about a month into his courses at NYU, and he told me yesterday that he there is no way he will be getting A's. This is slightly disappointing, considering he has always been an A student. Apparently something they tell you as you're entering dental school is to not expect A's. They are throwing so much information at him in such a short amount of time that it's hard to stay afloat, let alone receive top scores. He was totally MIA all last week as he studied for a major test in two subjects that he had yesterday. Then he had a quiz in a different class immediately after the test, and yet another quiz on Wednesday. My normally mellow husband is becoming, well, less mellow. Understandably.
I can also tell you that Bubba started preschool last week! Yes, we found a preschool. Will you believe me when I tell you that I absolutely love it? After all of the stress (and horror stories) that went into looking for a program for him, this one fell into our lap, and there just so happened to be a space available for him. I love the teacher and her assistants. There are a total of 4 adults per 10 kids in the classroom, and they are all super sweet and helpful and sensitive to the needs of 2 year olds. He had his second class this morning and is starting to mesh with the other kids a little. He's definitely shy at first, but he's getting the hang of it and even danced in the circle at the end of class today. I am so proud of him. The transition from CA to NYC has been easier on him than I expected, but I honestly didn't know what would happen when we put him into a preschool class. Fortunately for all of us, it is a "Gradually Separating" program, so the parents won't be completely gone from the class until around January. I am so excited to see him blossom on his own, and can't wait to see him finally playing with some new friends.
Birdie is becoming quite a handful. Every day it seems she does something that leaves me scratching my head, wondering where on earth she comes up with it. Yesterday, I lost her in my 750 sq ft apartment. LOST HER. I was about to completely panic when I opened the normally closed bathroom door to find her here:
She had gone into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, and climbed into the bathtub by herself. It's obviously not that big of a deal, but she's never done that before, and it's a true indication of her determination and wily spirit. The moment I leave the room that she's in, she hollers at the top of her lungs "MA!... MA!... MA!... MAAAAAA!!!!" She used to call me mom and momma. It was really sweet. Now she sounds like a seasoned New York-ah that is 15 minutes away from wearing perfume and flipping me off behind my back. This one scares me.
I'm not sure how I am doing. I don't pay much attention on a daily basis because I am so consumed with the kids, cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry and cooking. I'm not holding up that well though. I am struggling with doing all of these things every single day, all day and not getting much help. I am happy with my children because they are amazing, they are my angels. They sometimes drive me nuts, but they also save me every day. I am happy in our new home, I love New York City, but I really miss our family and friends in California. I miss the camaraderie with my husband. I am wondering how this will last for four years- because he is gone SO MUCH. We got into a fight over cleaning the microwave oven this morning before we all left for school and I was so, so mad at him. It was a communication issue (isn't it always?!), and not so much about the actual microwave, but it wasn't pretty, and it stung. When I got to preschool and sat in the parent's group while the kids played, I learned that one of the children's parents were splitting up. And to hear this parent express concern over the separation at home and in school was nearly more than I could handle. I seriously bit back tears for the entire group, and then watched this precious little girl play in her tattered fairy wings, seemingly carefree. I don't know if it is because I also come from a divided family, but I wanted to just hold her and protect her innocence from the pain that comes with divorce.
Sometimes we get so carried away in our own situations that it's impossible to put it into perspective. I got into a fight with Dr. J over cleaning the microwave and have been generally overwhelmed with running a household and raising two small children, but we're still happy. We still want the same things for each other and our future, and knew what it was going to take to get there. It's all just part of the process of life, and the pathway through it. Until then, I'm going to try to appreciate each and every moment... from finding pretty leaves with my babies to hugging my husband before he leaves for school, and maybe even cleaning the microwave.
I can tell you that Dr. J is about a month into his courses at NYU, and he told me yesterday that he there is no way he will be getting A's. This is slightly disappointing, considering he has always been an A student. Apparently something they tell you as you're entering dental school is to not expect A's. They are throwing so much information at him in such a short amount of time that it's hard to stay afloat, let alone receive top scores. He was totally MIA all last week as he studied for a major test in two subjects that he had yesterday. Then he had a quiz in a different class immediately after the test, and yet another quiz on Wednesday. My normally mellow husband is becoming, well, less mellow. Understandably.
I can also tell you that Bubba started preschool last week! Yes, we found a preschool. Will you believe me when I tell you that I absolutely love it? After all of the stress (and horror stories) that went into looking for a program for him, this one fell into our lap, and there just so happened to be a space available for him. I love the teacher and her assistants. There are a total of 4 adults per 10 kids in the classroom, and they are all super sweet and helpful and sensitive to the needs of 2 year olds. He had his second class this morning and is starting to mesh with the other kids a little. He's definitely shy at first, but he's getting the hang of it and even danced in the circle at the end of class today. I am so proud of him. The transition from CA to NYC has been easier on him than I expected, but I honestly didn't know what would happen when we put him into a preschool class. Fortunately for all of us, it is a "Gradually Separating" program, so the parents won't be completely gone from the class until around January. I am so excited to see him blossom on his own, and can't wait to see him finally playing with some new friends.
Birdie is becoming quite a handful. Every day it seems she does something that leaves me scratching my head, wondering where on earth she comes up with it. Yesterday, I lost her in my 750 sq ft apartment. LOST HER. I was about to completely panic when I opened the normally closed bathroom door to find her here:
She had gone into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, and climbed into the bathtub by herself. It's obviously not that big of a deal, but she's never done that before, and it's a true indication of her determination and wily spirit. The moment I leave the room that she's in, she hollers at the top of her lungs "MA!... MA!... MA!... MAAAAAA!!!!" She used to call me mom and momma. It was really sweet. Now she sounds like a seasoned New York-ah that is 15 minutes away from wearing perfume and flipping me off behind my back. This one scares me.
I'm not sure how I am doing. I don't pay much attention on a daily basis because I am so consumed with the kids, cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry and cooking. I'm not holding up that well though. I am struggling with doing all of these things every single day, all day and not getting much help. I am happy with my children because they are amazing, they are my angels. They sometimes drive me nuts, but they also save me every day. I am happy in our new home, I love New York City, but I really miss our family and friends in California. I miss the camaraderie with my husband. I am wondering how this will last for four years- because he is gone SO MUCH. We got into a fight over cleaning the microwave oven this morning before we all left for school and I was so, so mad at him. It was a communication issue (isn't it always?!), and not so much about the actual microwave, but it wasn't pretty, and it stung. When I got to preschool and sat in the parent's group while the kids played, I learned that one of the children's parents were splitting up. And to hear this parent express concern over the separation at home and in school was nearly more than I could handle. I seriously bit back tears for the entire group, and then watched this precious little girl play in her tattered fairy wings, seemingly carefree. I don't know if it is because I also come from a divided family, but I wanted to just hold her and protect her innocence from the pain that comes with divorce.
Sometimes we get so carried away in our own situations that it's impossible to put it into perspective. I got into a fight with Dr. J over cleaning the microwave and have been generally overwhelmed with running a household and raising two small children, but we're still happy. We still want the same things for each other and our future, and knew what it was going to take to get there. It's all just part of the process of life, and the pathway through it. Until then, I'm going to try to appreciate each and every moment... from finding pretty leaves with my babies to hugging my husband before he leaves for school, and maybe even cleaning the microwave.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Not Me! Monday
Ok, I did it. I caved. I said I wasn't going to do Not Me! Monday's in the interest of being original, but lets face it: anything remotely similar would be ripping off of Mckmama. And honestly, I kinda like doing Not Me! Monday's... it makes me feel more human and less like a failed superhero.
Alrighty then, let's get started!
This morning, while racing to make breakfast for the littles, I did not give them a teeny weeny
By the time we finished preschool, we had a little extra time to shop at the book drive they were having. I picked up a couple of old childhood favorites of my own, and a sticker book set for J. The kind with re-usable stickers and a couple of themes- they are GREAT! Except in the stroller. In the wind. On our way out of the building, I gave J one scene and a page of stickers for the walk. No less than three blocks down, I did not notice that all of the stickers had blown away, and that I did NOT leave the rest of the package at the preschool. I also did not suddenly realize that my sunglasses were also missing. I most certainly would never be so unorganized and discombobulated. I so totally am a superhero mother. AHEM.
Question for Mckmama: So, um, where's the Not My Husband! Monday???? I would be all over that. ALL OVER IT.
Tonight, just as we had finished eating, Dr. J came out of the kitchen with the last little bite of chicken and asked me if I wanted it. I would never want to waste food (obviously), so I obliged. My husband then did not exlaim "YAY MOMMA! You can do it! BIIIIIG MOMMA!". He is most certainly not sleeping on the couch tonight. My husband is much, much more sensitive than to say something like that. Gosh, I love him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
