The other side....

Life with a newborn is fantastic....the little snuggles, the yummy smell, the cute clothes, the silly faces, the yummy smell.

Did I mention how utterly delicious a newborn smells? Like sweet cream, and sugar. Totally beats the new car smell. 

Yep. Life with a newborn is fantastic. Except when it's not.  I don't really know why so very little is said about the not-so-awesome-side of newborn/infant life. I feel like there is an unspoken code that we are not supposed to speak about the rough spots.

Well, I used to be a really good rule follower....but I also really like to talk. And talking normally wins. So I'm gonna fill that void of information.

 Let me first clearly state -
I am not struggling with post-partum depression this time around. Yippee!
However, I am struggling with aspects of life because of Boy Bean.

I had become quite accustomed to having time to myself at night. I would get the girl beans to bed and then I would clean up the kitchen and then park my behind and fold laundry and watch whatever show I felt like, or blog, or just do whatever I wanted. 

That ship has sailed for the next few months.

I knew this was coming....this is not my first rodeo. But the arrival of Boy Bean coupled with the return of My Love - two wonderful things!! - definitely sucked all alone time right out of my day. And night. I love nursing my Boy Bean...but I struggle with sitting so much and not being able to do more than one-finger type out something on the computer.  I am ecstatic to have My Love home - but I had gotten used to my routine of snack/blog/Biggest Loser/Sudoku/craft time at night.

I just re-read that list...how old am I????

It is wonderful to have the men in my life around....but this girl has to recalibrate her schedule and life to make it all work smoothly again. And - like usual - it means getting rid of my-naturally-selfish habits.

I love that my night-time hours are spent hanging out with My Love and yammering about all sorts of silly and important things. But there are times I miss being sole holder of the remote ...so to speak. I love snuggling my Boy Bean and breathing in his newness and learning his quirks...but I miss the moments where I could just sit down because I felt like it and do what I wanted with my time.

I know these early months are fleeting and soon I'll be missing the middle-of-the-night cuddles and throughout-the-day feedings....but in the moment it seems a bit long.

In trying to treasure the moments with My Love and my Beans - I am trying to also keep the right perspective.

Because, really, while being without them allows me to freely indulge my selfish desires....that isn't what its all about, is it?

Copyright 2011

Dreamweaver...

So the fabulous combination of post-partum hormones and constantly interrupted sleep can really lead to some amazing dreams.

They are still not to the level of weird achieved during pregnancy....but pretty close

What?! I didn't write down for posterity my crazy pregnant dreams? 

Here's a quick rundown on the absolute-hands-down-oddest-dreams-I've-ever-had:

While pregnant with String Bean I dreamt I went to the car while in labor and delivered....a litter of kittens. Ugly ones. That was disturbing to me for a couple reasons:
1) I hold cats in utter contempt. I cannot stand them. Unless they are completely outdoor animals and keep the rodent population down....maybe. 
2) I had always assumed my offspring would at least achieve a "homely" status.
But for my daughter to be born an ugly version of an animal that I hold in disdain.....that was a hard one for me to swallow.

While pregnant with Jumping Bean I dreamed....bear in mind I was starving from the moment of a plus sign until delivery....I dreamed I delivered a chocolate bar. And then ate it.  All I have to say about that is we are already saving for her therapy.

While pregnant with Bitty Bean the crazy dream did not concern delivery. (Thankfully)  It instead involved the drive home from the hospital. In the dream she was safely loaded into her car seat and had a lovely pink blanket tucked around her..... then the car seat was set on the ground next to the car as we loaded everything else in.....and then we drove off. We just left our 3rd daughter in the parking lot of the hospital and went and had lunch.  

It seems food is a recurring theme of my dreams

However, my wild and wacky dreams while pregnant with the girls were NOTHING compared to what happened in my brain with the man-child. In the dream, we went to the hospital and I delivered Boy Bean....but he wasn't a baby....or a chocolate bar....or a litter of kittens....he was a fully-grown werewolf.  And as soon as the umbilical cord was cut, he turned to attack me. So, there I was, running down a main thoroughfare of the city....in my hospital gown....being chased by my newborn-werewolf-man-child.

Thankfully, in the past two weeks Boy Bean has not shown any signs of being anything other than 100% human. But I'm still keeping my running shoes handy.

Well, to be honest, now that I've actually written down those dreams....my post-partum one's are not even worth mentioning.....I mean, no one will need therapy from those! Although maybe I should see someone...

Copyright 2010

Holding Back the Tide...

There are days that feel wonderful - calm, peaceful, successful - days where not only the "list" gets everything checked off...but even a few extras are accomplished.  Those days where I am a calm, sweet-spirited mommy.  Those days where my children are perfect and kind and helpful.

Today was not one of those days.

Today was a day spent feeling like an isthmus between two raging oceans threatening to overtake me. 

On the one side was the churning torrent of "messy house"  (you know, the one that can reach flood stage within minutes?) Where it feels like the messes just suck the peace and calm out of my life. Apparently it didn't matter, because my sink still has dishes from breakfast sitting in it...and it is currently 8 o'clock at night.

On the other side, I had a tide of emotions so strong it felt like battling a tsunami. 

(Which would be no big deal if I could look at the calendar and say "Oh! I know why everyone is suddenly feeling like sobbing and whining and yelling and being nasty! But since I am pregnant....and my beans are 5 and under...monthly cycles don't really play into the picture at the moment.) 

I'm sure to the callused outsider, a messy house, a no-checked to-do list, and 3 children sitting all around your lap sobbing; can't possibly look like the end of the world. But it sure feels like it.  I know I need to keep my perspective in check and remember the gift of each day and the lessons to be had from every experience...but sometimes, I really just don't want to learn whatever the lesson is.

I really like my days that are not full of correcting someone every 5 minutes. Or cleaning up spill. After spill. After spill. I like the times where my children actually have ears that can hear...me.  I selfishly love when they are happy with their lives and not registering My Love's absence.

But tonight was a night for emotion. Be it amazing amounts of waterworks over who-knows-what at the playground...yelling about EVERYTHING...or seeing if whining would work as a power play...they tried every play in the book.

I would love to say I kept my cool and remained calm throughout it all. That I just battened the hatches and dealt with the storm. However, (since this blog is supposed to be full of the painful truth....) I can't say that. I did something I hate. I yelled at my sweet beans.  I got frustrated and annoyed. I was over it.

Until.

Until I had finished giving all 3 beans their baths....applied their lotion....decked them out in their jams...and then String Bean looked up at me with water-filled eyes and choked out, "I miss Daddy."

At that moment I realized how horribly out of focus my day had been. There were 3 hurting people in my care - all day - and I had not even attempted find out what was going on their hearts.

String Bean then crawled into my lap and cried. 

She cried because she misses the different speeds Daddy can run...Because "Mommy, you are pregnant....and kinda slow." She misses his hugs and his kisses. She misses just having him around to do everything he always does. 

Then Jumping Bean came over and leaned on my shoulder and said, "Okay. I think Daddy can come home now."

After we all let our rivers of tears flow...an amazing thing happened. The tide turned. And the day that I could-not-wait-to-be-done-with suddenly was no longer horrible. The crashing waves of emotion and wrong perspective, gave way to a calm, peaceful time of togetherness and bonding.  

So, while this particular mommy is definitely exhausted and worn out from the day...I'd do it all over again. Because sometimes you need the waves to wash away the yucky and show the beauty that is always under the surface.

Copyright 2010

The Joy and Pain of Motherhood...part 2

So here's the deal. I think it is high time for a funny/lighthearted post. Here is my current attempt...

Recently, (at a friend's wedding) I was slapped in the face by one of those totally-awesome-I-must-rock-at-being-a-mom moments. (Yep, I said it. Because it is true.)

My String Bean and Jumping Bean were flower girls...I was a bridesmaid....and I was nervous as all get out that my children would behave horribly. You know, behave in a way that could win us a million dollars or something on America's Funniest Videos for their fits in the aisle...or the dress being drawn over one of their heads while standing at the front (they wore white underwear - not princess panties - specifically to ward off that behavior)....or picking their nose and wiping it on their sister's dress. But - and it is hard to say this - as much as a million dollars would be nice...I think our family honor, reputation, and friendship with the bride and groom is a bit high of a price to pay.

None of that really has anything to do with the point. It is basically just to show you that I, in fact, would need 2 million to make it worth it. 

Anyway, as my beans and I were sitting on the front row during the ceremony - String Bean to my right, Jumping Bean on my lap - I was crying.

Before you judge me - remember I had just said goodbye to My Love, hadn't slept in 3 days, was watching two dear friends declare their love for one another....and I am pregnant. (None of that really is a recipe for stoicism.) 

In my Bean's defense - Mommy randomly crying is really not news. They are quite used to it. It doesn't scare them or unnerve them; they just pat my arm, or hand, and give me a tissue.

I am really rambling.

Thankfully, they not only walked down the aisle perfectly...they stood at the front like angels! No picking of noses, no fidgeting, no freaking out. It was amazing. I knew at that moment I had arrived. I had this mom-thing down.

(Side bar - during the majority of the ceremony, the bridal party sat down in the 2nd row.)

All of a sudden during the vows - Jumping Bean turned around in my lap, cupped my face with her hands, and said "Mommy, I love you."  Then she kissed me. Highly abnormal behavior for her...utter treat for me.

Didn't really help with me getting control of myself.

Just moments after that exchange, String Bean looked up at my face with glistening eyes and whispered, "Mommy, I'm not sad...my heart is just so happy it squeezed tears out! Can I have a tissue?"  Of course, I had plenty to spare.

So, while there are moments that the pain of motherhood - the sleepless nights, the worry, the expense, the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual battering - feels overwhelming and all consuming; they are (thankfully) not all you get.

There are moments of extreme joy and comfort and happiness....

Where your heart is just so happy it squeezes tears out. 

And that is the beautiful dichotomous gift that is motherhood.

Copyright 2010

On Beyond Leaving...

I have not completely lost it...yet.
I haven't really had time. Or energy.

I looked at my calendar and wrote down when I could have my breakdown about My Love leaving, and String Bean starting school...Sunday night from 9:00-11:00pm, you'll know where to find me.


Yep. I schedule my breakdowns.  It actually is a bit of a relief.  I know I only have to hold it together...keep most of the tears and freakout moments in check for a few days...and then I can rent that chick flick and sob to my heart's content.  Don't really know if it is a healthy way to do things or not; but its my way, and it works.  (Don't worry - I do cry in front of the beans....I just try not to do the snot-running-down-your-face-lost-all-control-cry in front of them. That would freak them out.)

So I've learned that if I set a particular standing date with myself to lose it...I stay waaaaay more sane. Supposedly.  Maybe not. But it makes me feel better - and you should stop judging me.

My day yesterday was actually REALLY, REALLY, great. However, I would like you to note I didn't say "Smooth," or "Restful." In fact, it had numerous bumps and bruises....and minimal sleep.

After dropping My Love off, spending quality time crying with the beans, driving home, unloading all beans, tucking them to bed, comforting them again, putting away all things that somehow jump out of place, and finally collapsing into bed (glorious BED!), I fell asleep. At 12:30.  Alarm was set to go for 6:00...not a ton of sleep, but definitely workable.  (I've found I can run on 5 hours a night for 5 nights...then I need to recover and get 7 or 8 hours) The theory of sleep is always good....but for a Mama of almost 4...it is most often just an idea, and not an actuality.  Chilly Bean decided to wake up SEVEN TIMES between 1 and 5.  And Boy Bean decided to jump on my bladder - hard - so I also had to wake up one time for my own reasons.

All of you people in the world out there who are sleeping through the night...and maybe even sleeping in on Saturdays....I hate you.  Not really.  But sometimes I am exceedingly jealous.

My Jumping Bean falls, and walks into walls, and trips, and bumps into things, constantly. Really.  WALLS.  (Its not like they move....I don't really get it.)   

But when she is distracted - the poor thing should be wrapped in bubble wrap. Unfortunately, today she was distracted. 

In the span of TEN MINUTES she tripped and smacked her head on the corner of a wall, (Immediate bruising and egg-size-swollen-knot on her forehead) and then twirled and cut her knee, and then closed her fingers in a drawer.

For the record - she is not known for her quiet spirit. There was much yelling. And snot. (I really detest snot. It is just utterly gross...and always on my shoulder.)

Anyway, during all of this..the phone rang...Chilly Bean pooped...String Bean went on a hunger strike (again)...and we all needed shoes on to get out the door in time.

We were late.

And that, is a REALLY, REALLY, great day.

Copyright 2010

Let the Comments begin...

Today, as we four women were out and about, I officially heard "a new one."  You know - a comment that people think is original and creative, but actually isn't?  If I could get some $$ for every time I am/have been told: "You have YOUR hands full!" Or, "All girls?  Better keep trying for that BOY!" I would be VERY rich at the moment. (Quick aside - Yes, my hands are full....with exactly what I want! And No - we have never tried for any gender...we've just been blessed beyond belief with each little bean in our pod.)  

But I digress.

The comment I was told today was this..."Do you go crazy when you are pregnant?"  (Bear in mind, this question was posed by a man who's significant other is apparently due in December - she was not present - who just saw me out with my children and my belly, and decided I looked stable enough to ask that particular question.) 

For any of you who know me...or have read anything I have EVER written...you would know I am NOT a stable person!  I have hormones rushing through me at adolescent levels even when I'm not pregnant...so when I AM pregnant the craziness reaches epic proportions.

I guess a good question back would have been, "How do you define 'Crazy?'" 

If the definition of "a sane person" includes someone who would: flip out over an order of lunch meat getting messed up; sob shoulder racking cries while loading clothes in the washing machine; periodically hide from their children in the shower; plan into their week their "break down" time; cry over Hallmark cards randomly...that aren't even sappy; and use the "phone a friend" lifeline as a desperate hunt for her last strand of patience; then I would say, "No! Everyone does not go crazy when they are pregnant!"

(I mean, I haven't tried to kill anyone...yet.)

But really, that definition above does not describe a stable person. It does, however, describe ME.  Not all my facets mind you...I like to keep people on their toes...but definitely some of them!

The poor man looked so overwhelmed with the woman at home who was vacillating between cries, laughter, anger, and panic; (I would em-pathetically assume!) he didn't want the truth.  He just needed comfort. As Jack Nicholson said so eloquently in A Few Good Men: "The truth? You CAN'T handle the truth!"

I smiled. I wiped the ketchup from my stomach, the snot from my shoulder, and the spit from my thigh - and said, "We all have our days. Just love her."  He seemed comforted by that and went on his way.  

The Beans and The pod

Then I sat down and teared up. 

Copyright 2010