The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

Oh hey swine flu, welcome to my town. Oh, you say you came in through the airport? Where my husband works, and touches people’s things for hours every day? You don’t say. Hmm.

Now is when I am either really glad that my girls have been sick so much in the last year, building up their immune systems, or where I panic because my kids have really weak immune systems, as shown by their being sick for 9 months.

Silver lining: it’s nice enough to hide at the lake, if the next stage of swine flu is zombies. We even have food stored up for that…

I am at that point where there are so many small things going on in our lives, but no big ones, so it feels silly to update the blog. But when I start getting emails of “Are you alive?” I know I need to log on and give a hearty wave.

This week has been up and down. Up with the realtor meeting, down when I face the never ending work of keeping the house presentable. Up with Ella being so well mannered and excited at the dentist (she opened wide, never flinched, got a full cleaning and got to take home pocketfuls of prizes for being such an awesome patient) and down with Alice getting four molars at once, and the resulting sleep issues. Up with Tom’s new job finally kicking in, but down with the added load it brings me, physically and emotionally. His job is not a low-stress one. So, instead of writing something new, I’m pulling a out one of my 56 unfinished drafts from the last year, which rings very true for this week.

*

Today Tom asked me how I was feeling, and I shrugged. “Mediocre.” Maybe one of the hardest things for me about being a stay at home mom, is that it is rare that someone recognizes me as the best at something. That sounds shallow, but when I was working, and going to school, and crafting regularly, there were opportunities to really excel. A poem would get great feedback in a workshop,  a big project I had been working on for months in the office would launch, or someone would rave about something I had made – the short term effort paid off in tangible ways, and I could walk around for a while feeling like I was really, really good at something.

Being a mom has it’s rewards, but it’s a long term venture. Yes, I love hearing “Mom, you are my best friend. Even if you are my mom,” but that isn’t what I am here for. I am here to raise happy, healthy, productive people, to make a positive impact on the world after I am gone. It’s a job that I take on happily and with great passion, but there are nights where  I stand in my kitchen, assessing the mess, wishing bedtime had went easier, knowing I yelled too much over silly things during the day, worrying that if I could just do one more thing (go back to vegetarianism, make some money on the side, finish the letter to my grandma, do more volunteer work) that I could show them the right way to live… And it is then that I miss that instant, visible gratification that I am good at this. I need a big shiney golden star for me to cram into Doubt’s mouth.

All of this sounds like a ploy for compliments, but it’s not. I know that the solution is to stop looking for outward validation, but rather to find a place inside me that is centered enough to accept myself as I come, but gah, that is a lot harder than it sounds. This week I am failing, or rather, floundering at it. You know, I am doing it in a very mediocre fashion. Yay me, or something.

Today was the kind of day that makes you just want to zone out, slumped on the couch, wine in one hand and the remote in the other.  Unless of course, your TV is laying in a jumble of wires in the corner of the room. Like mine. In an attempt to make the living room less cave-like we are getting rid of the entertainment center of doooom, but the plan fell through about five minutes after I had finished unplugging everything. Of course Ella was puking, we’re out of groceries, and Tom had to work all day, so the time and effort it would take to put it all back together just isn’t happening. Maybe tomorrow. Probably not. Hulu to the rescue, though slumping in my desk chair just makes my butt hurt.

Hey, instead of complaining, here are three things that make me smile:

1. Waffles

2. New washer and dryer (New to us anyway. They are handmedowns from family, but hey, I’m not complaining)

3. The fact that Alice slept eight hours last night. 8pm to 4am. Like a dummy I didn’t get in bed until midnight, so I didn’t get eight hours, but I was shocked when we woke up at 4am and I realized what had happened. I literally started to tweet about it from my phone (which I sleep with, in case of a fire, or bad guys. I don’t know where Ella gets her anxiety from), but then felt like a dork and didn’t, but it feels like a major milestone in her life. She also started saying “bubbles”, but who cares about that, she is sleeping!

So, first thing’s first – night five was awesome. Between 8pm and 7am, Alice woke up three times. I can’t even explain to you how amazing that is. I know many of you balk at the idea of waking up three times in a 11 hour period, but compared to a week ago, where she was waking up every 45 minutes, this seems nothing short of a miracle. I was this ({–}) close to alerting the presses last night, but fell asleep before I could finish my blog post, which was probably a good thing, since (dun dun dunnnnn) last night was horrible. Alice is getting two molars, both girls have stuffy noses, Ella kept having a dream about being stuck in a cage, and I tried to get Alice to sleep in the master bedroom, rather than the guest room, which was just too much change during this week of flux. The ultimate goal is to (gasp!) actually sleep with my husband at night, but with his schedule being so crazy right now (he’s awake at 2am to go to work), the upcoming traveling, and the sleep training we are doing, we just need to stick with what we know for now. When Tom comes home in June, and has a 8-5 schedule, we can make that move, but now that I’ve had a taste of a full sleep cycle (hallelujah!) I’m willing to sleep in the guest room for a few more weeks.

So that’s that. Hopefully tonight will be easier. If not, I know that even if we are starting at day 1 again, there is hope. Yes we can (sleep).

Today I am spending in the craftroom, trying to finish purging my craft stuff. We are meeting with our realtor on Sunday, and doing a walk through of the house, which has lit a fire under our butts to just finish sorting already. Right now we have a storage room, and TWO bedrooms  full of things to get rid of, and we are not close to being done purging. So much of what we own was given to us, and we re so thankful that we have generous people in our lives, but wowza. We need to learn how to say “No thank you, we have enough couches” already.

Today, as Tom and I were slogging through sorting out the basement, he turned to me and said “I was thinking; instead of buying a big new TV when we move, I would rather use that money to turn the backyard into a garden.”

And then I jumped his bones.

Okay, not really, because we were knee deep in boxes labeled “garage sale” and the girls were screaming that their Dora video was over, but I seriously considered it. I never thought I would be the girl that would go wobbly in the knees over the idea of a truck load of compost. I have been planning to talk him in to the idea of edible landscaping for months (ever since we decided to downsize back to the Little House), but, like most of my crazy hippie ideas (see: homebirthing, cloth diapering, eating organic, not using shampoo, cosleeping) I figured I would ease into it, letting him get used to the idea before asking him if we could tackle it. Instead, this time, I have stayed mum, and he came up with the idea himself. Oh Tom, when I met you you watched FOX news, had voted for Bush (“Only the first time!”) and lived on chicken nuggets and crackers. Now you are excited about building a chicken coop (!) and are concerned about where we will put a birth tub when we have another homebirth. And you are pretty darn cute too.

(At 31, Tom still gets carded every time he orders a drink.)

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And because it’s become a series now: night four was actually a lot better. I think she woke up three times between 11 and 6, but she went back to sleep easily, and there was almost no wailing. Tonight may be harder, since her nose started running today and had a small fever at bedtime, but even if we have a few nights of setback, I’m starting to feel like this will work. Annnd I probably just jinxed it.

Night three brought less drama from Alice, but it was a rough night for Ella, with nightmares about lightning and waterfalls (?). I spent half the night curled up in her toddler bed with her, and the other half getting Alice back to sleep after Ella woke her up screaming. Then they decided that 6am was a perfectly good time to get out of bed and wail. They were crabs all day from lack of sleep, and in the last two hours since they went to bed, they have both woken up multiple times. Night four is going to do me in, I know it.

Just a visual of how I feel right now. It’s actually a sign in the next town over, and it made me laugh. If I am ever in the market for dead cow, I know who I am buying from.

PS – I am reminded that I have the best friends, ever. Thank you for promising not to let me starve, go weeks without showers, celebrate my birthday alone, or (god forbid) go without wine. We’ll know more in the next week or so about dates, but don’t doubt that I am taking ya’ll up on those offers. *Eyes Jodie and her chili*

Tom got confirmation today that, for the month of May, he will be traveling around the country, shadowing people at other airports who have his job. It’s a newish position, so there is no one in our region who can train him, so away he goes to Phoenix, Orlando, Seattle and more. While we do not have exact dates yet,  I’ll be lucky if Tom is home for my birthday (May 5th) or Mothers Day (May 10th). We can count on him being gone for 2+ weeks for just one airport, and in order to be trained in a timely manner, he may be gone much longer.

HELP.

The idea of being alone with my kids should not  freak me out so much, but since Pam  (my mother-in-law) will also be traveling for much of May, I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed. If we were not so broke, I would pack up the kids and go see my sister’s new house, but I’m not sure that is realistic.

*Looking up gas calculators and plane tickets, looking at credit card limits and wondering if this counts as an ‘emergency’*

All of this makes it much more necessary that Alice learn to sleep. Last night was better, in the sense that she only woke up four times between 11pm and 6am, but worse in that she was up screaming longer each time. When the girls demanded that I get out of bed at 6:30am (complete with a song about being  “Hung Ary! Hung Ary, Mon Keys!” with accordion accompaniment) I turned on PBS Kids and slept on the couch while they ate dry cereal. Mom of the year!I can on;y imagine what it will be like when I’m alone.

Good news: we survived night one. She cried, a lot, but we managed to get to 5:56 am before I gave in and nursed her back to sleep (our goal was 6am). She slept next to me all night, or rather, she slept next to me when she was not pissed off and screaming. She’s always been a dramatic kid, so I am not surprised that she thinks she can have “ninny” if she just headbutts me enough, but I’m just.. done. I need to sleep. I do not regret sleeping with her, or nursing her, or even letting her nurse all night like she has for a year and a half – I know my girl, and I know she needed that when she was smaller – but for everyone’s sake, it’s time for her to learn to sleep without a boob in her mouth. I’m a better mom when I sleep, and Ella and Tom deserve my patience and humor as much as Alice does.

She woke up this morning happy and ready for the day, which I can’t say for myself, but it was good to see that she is fine. To tell you the truth, I really wonder what kind of kid she will be once she is getting enough sleep. Maybe she won’t be as clingy, maybe she won’t whine so much, maybe she will let her sister hug her. Or maybe not. Maybe she will still be silly dramatic Alice, except with a mom who can handle it without her head exploding.

Dear Alice, you are so cute when you are asleep. Please do it more often.

When I was little, here was nothing a swab of monkey blood, a dab of unicorn medicine*, and then a bandaid could not cure. Well, that and God. Off and on during my childhood, my mother would return to the religion of her youth, and when God was in the house, unicorn medicine was forbidden. If you were going to live, it would be by God’s hand, not by medicine’s. My mother was never a very steadfast follower though, so soon enough the Neosporin and aspirin would be back in the house. Even so, we rarely went to the doctor as kids, and when we did, there was a level of shame and guilt around it.  We were playing with fire, and it was the eternal kind.

I don’t talk about religion a lot here, out of respect for friends and family who are deeply religious, but also because  I do not have a easy answer when people ask “Well, what do you believe then?”  If you need to label me, label me a seeker. I’ll let you know if I ever find what I am looking for.

I bring up religion now, because I don’t think I can describe how I feel about all the medical stuff in my life right now, without the backstory. While I am not part of the church, I did grow up in it’s shadow, and it’s naive to think that we can actually outrun out childhoods. (Lord knows I’ve tried.) Add to that a few very traumatic medical experiences, and viola:  medicine makes me anxious. If there is an alternative, (like, say, midwifery) I will take it.

I’m not anti-medicine by any means (oh Aleve, I love you, I do) but the truth is that medicine is only as good as the person doing the diagnosing, and that is not always excellent. The same is true for alternative medicines, though I suppose I see alternative medicines as possessing less opportunity for colossal failure, so I feel safer dabbling with accupuncture than medications. Besides, if I am not putting anything in my body, I am not going to Hell. Or something.

It all makes me very twitchy, and more often than not, I choose the “Ignore it and it will go away!” method of dealing with illness, which not only leaves me in pain, but also makes me paranoid that something bad really is going on, unchecked. I don’t have the skills to navigate medicine, or the faith to accept that I don’t need it.  Rock, meet hard place. I’ll take any excuse to be anxious I suppose.

So, all of that backstory is to say that I had another appointment today, and am faced with the option to go more invasive to find an answer, (it’s not cancer) (it’s also not an ulcer) or to walk away. My instinct is not to walk, but RUN away, but then there is that nagging “But, there is something going on, and what if…”

On a humorous note, when we were making our “Maybe” list today at my appointment, she sighed, and said “Or maybe you are just tired.” I laughed loudly, and then nodded solemnly as she explained that there are many studies that show the serious effects of long term sleep deprivation on hormones, immune system, and really everything else in your body. She looked at me over the tops of her glasses, and I said “I know. I knoooowwwwww. I’m trying to night wean her, but she is just so attached, and I am just so tired, and Tom has such a weird schedule, and, and… ” She paused, nodded, and we went on down the list. When I got home, I tweeted about the experience, and Kat linked me to this article, which is officially in effect tonight. So if you see me tomorrow, be gentle.

*I’m convinced there is a picture of an old school Neosporin package somewhere on the internet, that shows the Wellcome unicorn on the back, but have yet to find it. Is there really something that doesn’t exist on the internet? Impossible!

Leah, from O Momma Writes, saw this photo in my flickr stream and asked me to write about it. It is a cheap and simple way to dye eggs with little ones, with the bonus of no mess. It almost feels silly to write out steps, but:

1. Buy bright tissue paper. Some people recommend buying artist tissue paper, which is harder to find and more expensive than gift tissue paper, but I found that as long as you use bright colors, you are fine. Bonus that you can use the rest of the pack later for gifts, without it smudging on your hands/gifts.

2. Boil and cool your eggs. Cut tissue paper into strips (or let the kids rip it up) and then get each egg wet, one by one. Wrap the tissue around the wet egg, occasionally spraying them from a spritz bottle if the paper is too dry to stick.

3. Put them back in the egg container, and let them dry. I let Ella spray them down a few more times during the day, just for the heck of it (it kept her busy while I was working), but it’s not necessary.

4. The morning of Easter, let the kids rip off all the tissue paper, and be amazed at the colors.

They are not the most vibrant little eggs, or the most stylish, but they are great for little fingers, and there is no risk of purple dye all over the carpet. In the past we have dyed eggs with natural colors, and I planned to this year, but couldn’t make it to the store for supplies in time. Perhaps next year Ella can help me dye eggs and Alice can keep busy wrapping eggs.  Heck, as easy as this is, I think we’ll have blue eggs at picnics this summer.