We were watching some True Blood season 2 episodes last night and I had the stunning realization that maybe Mike really did marry me for who I am. The good, the bad, the ugly, the crazy, and the all encompassing Joanne that includes it all. We didn't spend 10 years together trying to make the other into who we wanted them to be. We didn't even have a full year before we were married and Wy was well on his way. This whole realization came about when the show had a pastor talking and his wife interrupts him and his response was 'Sarah, I'm talking'. She pipes down and smiles and nods, accepting that she'd been out of place. I told Mike at that moment that sometimes, just sometimes, I think he wants me to be that wife. He laughed, shook his head no, and grabbed my...hand.
We have spent an extra special amount of time with another couple lately. And it's funny. She's 100% female, high maintenance and my polar opposite. She has to have her bestie with her at ALL times, which is understandable from one of those super girly females. Me? Im the one who sneaks off to see the last Harry Potter in a theater all by myself, and enjoys it. It all comes down to who people are.
That's the miracle of marriage. When you marry someone, you accept all the family attached. After almost 4 years of being married, Mike has-I think- finally accepted my parents. He talks to them, he jokes with them and he generally doesn't seem to mind them being around as frequently as they are. Here's the catch. I can accept the people Mike has brought into my life under the pretense of family, and he has accepted just as readily those members of my family we associate with. But how will he react when he meets the rest? How will he react when he meets my 'VanWagoner' crew? When we go to VA for a weekend and he meets Keri and Becky and all those other people who built me? While none of my 'family' are that high-maintenance person, how will he react to the other females I more happily interact with? The gun-toters, the crab bakers, the lets just get together and be who we are-ers that come with out pretense and hoopla?
After last night, I'm more comfortable with the idea, but I've still got my concerns. Ironically, the longer we're married my concern isn't as much how will he like them as much as its 'will he even want to come home?'
2.19.2012
2.02.2012
Misguided Roses and Emeralds from Mountains...
'The strands in your eyes, that color them wonderful stop me and steal my breath. And emeralds from mountains, thrust towards the sky, never revealing their depth. Tell me that we belong together. Dress it up with the trappings of love. I'll be captivated. I'll hang from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above. I'll be your crying shoulder. I'll be love's suicide. I'll be better when I'm older. I'll be the greatest fan of your life...'
Looking back over the last 4 year is awe-ing to me. Four and a half to be exact. Remembering where we started, what we've overcome, it reminds me that for all his faults, he is my biggest fan. He is my strength when I'm running on empty. My humor when I need to relax. My tether to the real world when Joanne's happy bubble starts to turn...not-so-happy.
Does that mean its supposed to be perfect? Does that mean that almost five years into this, we have all the 'secrets to marriage' figured out? No. It means that after two weekends of bickering and sniping at each other, we look at each other, smile, and recognize that despite the quarrels and whatever else, we are stronger together than apart. We realize that no one else could complete each other as thoroughly as we do. We have two beautiful, beautifully annoying, healthy, happy, intelligent, and charismatic little boys.
I know hard-er times are bound to pop up. I know we'll weather those storms and hurricanes like we have in the past: dedication to each other and our life. We're lucky though, I think. We realize how strong we are as a unit.
We're not perfect. But we're perfect together.
Looking back over the last 4 year is awe-ing to me. Four and a half to be exact. Remembering where we started, what we've overcome, it reminds me that for all his faults, he is my biggest fan. He is my strength when I'm running on empty. My humor when I need to relax. My tether to the real world when Joanne's happy bubble starts to turn...not-so-happy.
Does that mean its supposed to be perfect? Does that mean that almost five years into this, we have all the 'secrets to marriage' figured out? No. It means that after two weekends of bickering and sniping at each other, we look at each other, smile, and recognize that despite the quarrels and whatever else, we are stronger together than apart. We realize that no one else could complete each other as thoroughly as we do. We have two beautiful, beautifully annoying, healthy, happy, intelligent, and charismatic little boys.
I know hard-er times are bound to pop up. I know we'll weather those storms and hurricanes like we have in the past: dedication to each other and our life. We're lucky though, I think. We realize how strong we are as a unit.
We're not perfect. But we're perfect together.
8.09.2011
Politics and Religion...
I was a bartender through college and through most of my 20s. There's a general rule to be followed and is as such enforced by most bartenders, especially in this great state of Utah. Rule #1 is as follows: NO POLITICS AND/OR RELIGION from the very first beer delivered, shot ordered, and/or cocktail mixed. For the most part, I carry that rule along with me whenever interacting with people who don't know me. Thus, the remainder of my 'rant' is prefaced as pertaining to politics. Be warned.
This national debt/financial crisis/S&P downgrading thing has me questioning a simple issue regarding the status of our 'free' country. We're told to contact our representatives. We're told that living in this country, we have the ability to make a change. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that was the tag line for one of the presidential candidates during his race. But where's my representation? Where's a politician who wasn't born with a silver spoon? Where's a politician who's been in our familial position before? Where's a politician who has the same concerns I do? I have 2 parents in their 60s. I'm the only kid to take care of them. Are they gonna be living with me when social security runs out? I've brought 2 future tax-payers into this world in the last 3 years. What kind of school system are they going to be 'learning' in? What kind of representation are they gonna have come the day?
There's a song/speech/whatever from 1999, which in my ripe old age of 28, has been echoing through my head lately:
This national debt/financial crisis/S&P downgrading thing has me questioning a simple issue regarding the status of our 'free' country. We're told to contact our representatives. We're told that living in this country, we have the ability to make a change. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that was the tag line for one of the presidential candidates during his race. But where's my representation? Where's a politician who wasn't born with a silver spoon? Where's a politician who's been in our familial position before? Where's a politician who has the same concerns I do? I have 2 parents in their 60s. I'm the only kid to take care of them. Are they gonna be living with me when social security runs out? I've brought 2 future tax-payers into this world in the last 3 years. What kind of school system are they going to be 'learning' in? What kind of representation are they gonna have come the day?
There's a song/speech/whatever from 1999, which in my ripe old age of 28, has been echoing through my head lately:
Accept certain inalienable truths,
prices will rise,
politicians will philander,
you too will get old,
you too will get old,
and when you do you’ll fantasize
that when you were young prices were reasonable,
that when you were young prices were reasonable,
politicians were noble...
Here's my trouble though: I'm a student of history. I have a B.A. to prove it. I can't think of the last time there WAS a middle-class politician. When was the last time there was someone in our government who was the voice for the middle-class? When was the last time the middle-class had a majority in our government? Mike, I, and Chris came up with a three-step resolution to the debt crisis within our country. Sad part is, 75% of it was taken from the New Deal (please, please tell me you know what that is). Where's someone in our government who can do what we did? Who can see the situation and take a lesson from history...if not taken from history, at least use the positive aspects of the New Deal and implement them for circa 2011 instead of the Great Depression era. The lesson is simple: stop giving money away and make legal residents of this country work for it if it's needed. I'm just saying. I'm female, white, and in my late 20s, married with 2 kids. I have to work for the things I want. Why shouldn't everyone else?
7.17.2011
Because It's Grind, Grind, Grind at that Grindstone...
Wyatt's started watching Mary Poppins at night, as he falls to sleep. Each night for the last three nights, I hear his giggles at the 'penguin' sequence, his complete body laugh at the tea on the ceiling scene, and his quiet snoring at the end, when they're flying kites. The best part is my flashbacks from this movie and it's marvelous music. When beginning to play the violin and learning how to read sheet music, I dug up the copy of Mary Poppins songbook long treasured by my mother. While playing the violin in my room, I remember the first time my dad recognized a song: chim chimney.
"because it's grind, grind, grind at that grindstone;
Though childhood slips, like sands through a sieve
Then one day they've up and grown and then they've flown
And it's too late for you to give....
That spoon full of sugar to help the medicine go down,
The medicine go down..."
Sitting in the rocking chair tonight, watching the chimney sweep scene, singing those lyrics, moved me almost to tears. Wy's approaching 3 at lightning speed; Landon's no better, hitting his 15 month mark a mere 10 days ago. I realize the annoying tendencies of toddlers are fleeting. The cries for juice to prolong falling to sleep will be replaced by tween fun and teenage rebellion. The clamoring for attention will be replaced by their need to be independent and make their own mistakes, and wanting little to nothing to do with me, much as I did. The endless energy will be replaced by late nights, sneaking out and sleeping through classes.
It warms my heart knowing (or hoping) that these two little poopheads will have a memory of me sitting in the rocking chair in their room, stroking Wyatt's hair, singing about kids growing up too soon and finding a place 'tween pavement and stars' where they can be happy. I learned a lot from both of my parents, I'm realizing now. Mostly though, I've learned that the memories that stick with a child aren't the big productions, or the ultimate sacrifices. They won't remember mike and I bickering over money, or how much we did or didn't work. They, like me, will remember the moments we were there. The time we took to sit with then for 5 minutes long after they were supposed to be in bed, to sing for them, or stroke their hair. It's moments like these that I figure I'm being the best mom I can. And I'm enjoying the hell outta the two little guys who have my heart.
"because it's grind, grind, grind at that grindstone;
Though childhood slips, like sands through a sieve
Then one day they've up and grown and then they've flown
And it's too late for you to give....
That spoon full of sugar to help the medicine go down,
The medicine go down..."
Sitting in the rocking chair tonight, watching the chimney sweep scene, singing those lyrics, moved me almost to tears. Wy's approaching 3 at lightning speed; Landon's no better, hitting his 15 month mark a mere 10 days ago. I realize the annoying tendencies of toddlers are fleeting. The cries for juice to prolong falling to sleep will be replaced by tween fun and teenage rebellion. The clamoring for attention will be replaced by their need to be independent and make their own mistakes, and wanting little to nothing to do with me, much as I did. The endless energy will be replaced by late nights, sneaking out and sleeping through classes.
It warms my heart knowing (or hoping) that these two little poopheads will have a memory of me sitting in the rocking chair in their room, stroking Wyatt's hair, singing about kids growing up too soon and finding a place 'tween pavement and stars' where they can be happy. I learned a lot from both of my parents, I'm realizing now. Mostly though, I've learned that the memories that stick with a child aren't the big productions, or the ultimate sacrifices. They won't remember mike and I bickering over money, or how much we did or didn't work. They, like me, will remember the moments we were there. The time we took to sit with then for 5 minutes long after they were supposed to be in bed, to sing for them, or stroke their hair. It's moments like these that I figure I'm being the best mom I can. And I'm enjoying the hell outta the two little guys who have my heart.
3.07.2011
Les Mis and Snow in March...
After watching a few shows I recorded last night while working at the restaurant, I stumbled onto Les Mis on KUED. It's the 25th anniversary show from London, starring Nick Jonas (I assume of the Jonas Brothers).
The very first lyric memorized from this musical, it haunted me for days and days and days when I was in 8th grade. In choir, we'd sung a Broadway Medley with those lines in it somewhere. They haunted me, even at 14. Shortly thereafter, while still living in Hampton, I acquired a Highlights Of Les Mis cd. My parents can share horror stories of how often they'd find me up at 2 or 3 in the morning, the volume on my stereo as low as possible, listening.
"On this page, I write my last confession.
Read it well, when I at last am sleeping.
It's the story of those who always loved you.
Your mother gave her life for you, then gave you to my keeping."
The very first lyric memorized from this musical, it haunted me for days and days and days when I was in 8th grade. In choir, we'd sung a Broadway Medley with those lines in it somewhere. They haunted me, even at 14. Shortly thereafter, while still living in Hampton, I acquired a Highlights Of Les Mis cd. My parents can share horror stories of how often they'd find me up at 2 or 3 in the morning, the volume on my stereo as low as possible, listening.
"Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring when to tomorrow comes!!"
After a really tough day with Wy when he was little, I had been listening to Les Mis all day in an effort to calm him and me down simultaneously. Mike walks through the door as I'm singing towards Wyatt:
"One day more! Another day, another destiny"
Mike starts singing with me, and the first genuine smile in hours crossed my face.
That's what I love about music; that's what I love about Broadway. Les Mis in particular is a musical I carry with me always. As my own version of Eponine at 18, carrying a torch for a boy who would never really love me. As Cosette and Marius at 24 when Mike and I finally stopped circling each other around the valley (as we had since we were 15/16) and found happiness. As a 26 yr old mom to a toddler while extremely preggers with Thing 2, I chanted "master of the house" to Mike just to get him riled up (or to guilt him into helping with dishes or whatever). And now, I can understand Fantine: I can understand a mother sacrificing her life for her childs' well-being. I'm sure later on in my life, different characters and aspects will seem more important than others.... One thing I know...This is one CD/Blu Ray/DVD that will be added to my collection.
1.05.2011
And I Scream From the Top of My Lungs, WHAT'S GOING ON!?!?!?!
There's this song that regularly makes it into the top 20 playlist of my life. A one-hit-wonder that few (if any) know all the words to, it consistently has relevance to whatever seems to be bogging me down.
During college, after being harshly graded, this song made me feel like I wasn't the only person in the world being given a raw deal (whether deservedly or not):
At 25, when I was expecting Wyatt and I realized that I married a (self-proclaimed) retard, again, I found solice in the lyrics to this song from the 90s:
And then tonight. While joking with someone who manages to take a light conversation to a completely different and much more harsh level, I come home, find my song, and blast it as loud as I can (with a sleeping husband and 2 sleeping kids):
I shoulda slapped him. But he's an Ok guy really I suppose. Just another redhead to deal with. I'm gonna make a no-redhead-club and escape there twice a week. I need to.
During college, after being harshly graded, this song made me feel like I wasn't the only person in the world being given a raw deal (whether deservedly or not):
And I try, oh my God,
do I try
I try all the time
In this institution
And I pray, oh my God
Do I pray
I pray every single day
for a revolution.
At 25, when I was expecting Wyatt and I realized that I married a (self-proclaimed) retard, again, I found solice in the lyrics to this song from the 90s:
25 years and my life is still
Trying to get up that great big hill of hope,
For a destination.
I realized quickly when I knew I should
That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
Or whatever that means..
And then tonight. While joking with someone who manages to take a light conversation to a completely different and much more harsh level, I come home, find my song, and blast it as loud as I can (with a sleeping husband and 2 sleeping kids):
Just to get it all out
What's in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar
And so I wake in the morning
And I step outside, and I take a deep breath
And I get real high and I scream from the top of my lungs
WHATS GOING ON
I shoulda slapped him. But he's an Ok guy really I suppose. Just another redhead to deal with. I'm gonna make a no-redhead-club and escape there twice a week. I need to.
12.24.2010
A realization of the worst kind...
Mike has decided we're going to Mazatlan in March for our 3rd anniversary "Honeymoon". From now, that gives me roughly 12 weeks to get my body back in shape. How to overcome the depressing realization that while only being a size larger than in high school, I'm nowhere NEAR where I was at my best, my healthiest. That's the tough part for me though. I see where we used to be financially, and I know that everything accomplished has been my actions. I know that I could do the same thing with my fitness and my weight.
It's still depressing when you're staring at the scale, or looking in the mirror and knowing how far/hard you've gotta go to get back where you need/want to be.
It's still depressing when you're staring at the scale, or looking in the mirror and knowing how far/hard you've gotta go to get back where you need/want to be.
12.10.2010
A minor dose of reality...
Time flies when you have kids. I rented Shrek 4 for Wy to watch last night and although his little body was so tired, he crashed halfway through it, Mike and I got a kick out of it. It kind of put our lives in perspective though.
Three years ago, we were still living it up. At the bar 3-4 (if not more) times a week after work. Paying bills if we wanted, but not out of necessity, and hardly ever fighting. Flash forward to three years later and there are a few things I've discovered.
1) I have yet to meet another man in the world more made for me than Mike. Do we argue/fight? Yeah. But honestly...I think I need an equally as passionate person as I am. I'm not saying we don't fight about stupid things, cause we do. I'm not saying Mike doesn't calm me down sometimes when I'm being irrational, cause he does. I'm saying that we understand in order for us to clear the air around here, sometimes we both lose our tempers. But after the screaming and yelling, there's no bitterness. No passive-aggressive BS weighing us down for the next 3 days/weeks. We scream, we yell, we get it over with, and it's done.
2) There's a saying "The Lord gives you one more child than you can handle" and I'm not about to disagree. Yesterday, Mike got home, I ran errands, he got home again, and we were on kid-duty. Between feeding, chasing, bathing, feeding (#2), comforting, and playing, we and they were all systems-go until 9:30 last night. At that point, Mike crashed, and I stayed up working for 5 more hours. I know our plan was/is to have more kids. At least one. Now? I'm not sure. Part of me is so very complete with Mike's mini-me (Wy) and my dad's look-a-like with my personality (Landon).
3) Being a parent is the toughest thing I've ever done in my whole life. This is tougher than surviving my car wreck, then graduating from college and high school. It's harder than working at a job 80+ hours a week. But here's the catch to it. Is it tougher than hell? Oh yeah. But then there are the payoffs. The 2 year old who's adding grey hairs at an exponential rate comes up, grabs a fist-full of blankets and just cuddles. The 8 month old lights up when he sees you first thing in the morning, then after his first nap, then after his second nap, and then after eating when he's physically exhausted but mentally wants to keep going. I'm not saying I'm gonna keep working from home. I'm to the point where I know I'll enjoy my kids more not being around them as much. But I'm gonna miss it. I'm gonna miss these moments.
Three years ago, we were still living it up. At the bar 3-4 (if not more) times a week after work. Paying bills if we wanted, but not out of necessity, and hardly ever fighting. Flash forward to three years later and there are a few things I've discovered.
1) I have yet to meet another man in the world more made for me than Mike. Do we argue/fight? Yeah. But honestly...I think I need an equally as passionate person as I am. I'm not saying we don't fight about stupid things, cause we do. I'm not saying Mike doesn't calm me down sometimes when I'm being irrational, cause he does. I'm saying that we understand in order for us to clear the air around here, sometimes we both lose our tempers. But after the screaming and yelling, there's no bitterness. No passive-aggressive BS weighing us down for the next 3 days/weeks. We scream, we yell, we get it over with, and it's done.
2) There's a saying "The Lord gives you one more child than you can handle" and I'm not about to disagree. Yesterday, Mike got home, I ran errands, he got home again, and we were on kid-duty. Between feeding, chasing, bathing, feeding (#2), comforting, and playing, we and they were all systems-go until 9:30 last night. At that point, Mike crashed, and I stayed up working for 5 more hours. I know our plan was/is to have more kids. At least one. Now? I'm not sure. Part of me is so very complete with Mike's mini-me (Wy) and my dad's look-a-like with my personality (Landon).
3) Being a parent is the toughest thing I've ever done in my whole life. This is tougher than surviving my car wreck, then graduating from college and high school. It's harder than working at a job 80+ hours a week. But here's the catch to it. Is it tougher than hell? Oh yeah. But then there are the payoffs. The 2 year old who's adding grey hairs at an exponential rate comes up, grabs a fist-full of blankets and just cuddles. The 8 month old lights up when he sees you first thing in the morning, then after his first nap, then after his second nap, and then after eating when he's physically exhausted but mentally wants to keep going. I'm not saying I'm gonna keep working from home. I'm to the point where I know I'll enjoy my kids more not being around them as much. But I'm gonna miss it. I'm gonna miss these moments.
11.30.2010
Just Breathe...
These kids are getting so big so fast, it makes my head spin. Landon's crawling all over, Wy's understanding so much now that it's just scary. I moved the bookcase out of their room in an attempt to keep him out of Landon's crib (unsuccessfully). I put it into the kitchen, and now he has a pertch to sit on while I cook. He sits up there, and watches me cook, reciting back to me "oot" (hot) and points at the stove.
Part of me knows that these moments and this time when they're small is so fleeting and that I should hang on to it. The other part wants them to get bigger so that the toddler phase is over and done with. I put up Christmas last week and Wy's been pointing at all the lights and ornaments oohing and awwwing over how pretty they are at night. As much as he's a raging monster, this kid is permanently engraved into my heart. All weekend, with Mike home, he'd come in and crawl into bed with me to wake me up when he was ready for me to be up with him. He'd pull at my eyelids, or play with my hair, until I finally bear-hugged him and snuggled him in closer.
Mike's slowly starting to realize that being a parent doesn't give you a day off. By Sunday, he was chomping at the bit to get out of the house and away from the kids for a bit. Made me laugh, like I don't feel like that 9 days out of 10. I'm getting ready (studying) to start a new adventure. It'll take me out of the house 5 days a week, and a few nights a week, but it's the right move for me right now I think. My brain tells me that I need to spend some time away from these kids so that I can appreciate the time I do spend with them more. My heart is scared that they'll love me less. Unnecessarily scared, I know, but the concern is there. How many milestones am I going to miss? How many times will they want or need me and have someone else to go to instead of me? As much as I hate being needed 100% of the day, it's reassuring.
Part of me knows that these moments and this time when they're small is so fleeting and that I should hang on to it. The other part wants them to get bigger so that the toddler phase is over and done with. I put up Christmas last week and Wy's been pointing at all the lights and ornaments oohing and awwwing over how pretty they are at night. As much as he's a raging monster, this kid is permanently engraved into my heart. All weekend, with Mike home, he'd come in and crawl into bed with me to wake me up when he was ready for me to be up with him. He'd pull at my eyelids, or play with my hair, until I finally bear-hugged him and snuggled him in closer.
Mike's slowly starting to realize that being a parent doesn't give you a day off. By Sunday, he was chomping at the bit to get out of the house and away from the kids for a bit. Made me laugh, like I don't feel like that 9 days out of 10. I'm getting ready (studying) to start a new adventure. It'll take me out of the house 5 days a week, and a few nights a week, but it's the right move for me right now I think. My brain tells me that I need to spend some time away from these kids so that I can appreciate the time I do spend with them more. My heart is scared that they'll love me less. Unnecessarily scared, I know, but the concern is there. How many milestones am I going to miss? How many times will they want or need me and have someone else to go to instead of me? As much as I hate being needed 100% of the day, it's reassuring.
11.20.2010
"I saw her today at the demonstration..."
I made a new blog today. I feel as beneficial as it is for me to have the years of my life journalized, there should be something specifically for my kids. Hence, monstersincslc.blogspot.com (I wanted to used whack-a-mommy: A phrased I coined during Wyatt's pregnancy (the child played whack-a-mole on my innards) and then through Landon's, however my concern for battered mothers in the world stopped me). I figured Monsters, Inc the best descriptor for letters to them so when they're older and starting out, they can see how bad they were and expect worse. Funny part though? I see this as being a way to make me feel better about those REALLY shitty days when I want to send one (or both) back, or request an upgrade. I see this as a way for me to vent.
I hope I can honestly impart to them the endless amount of humor they bring to my life; the happiness; the frustration. As exciting as my life isn't, the next few years are bound to bring astronomical changes, and honestly, I'd like for them to have a record of it for them...from my eyes, but with their concerns and best interests voiced rather than noted here for my own journalization.
I look back on posts I made here pre-marriage, pre-children, pre-graduation, and I smile at how simple things were; how complicated I made very easy situations. I'm hoping whack-a-mommy can be that for them.
I hope I can honestly impart to them the endless amount of humor they bring to my life; the happiness; the frustration. As exciting as my life isn't, the next few years are bound to bring astronomical changes, and honestly, I'd like for them to have a record of it for them...from my eyes, but with their concerns and best interests voiced rather than noted here for my own journalization.
I look back on posts I made here pre-marriage, pre-children, pre-graduation, and I smile at how simple things were; how complicated I made very easy situations. I'm hoping whack-a-mommy can be that for them.
10.06.2010
Now really...I know you didn't kill me, but HOW?!?!?
Landon turned 6 months old yesterday. He's so close to crawling it's flat out petrifying. Wyatt's a raging toddler with regular time-outs on the wall (memories from my childhood) and temper tantrums for a variety of reasons including but not limited to the following: not adding chocolate mix into milk, not turning on the movie he wants to see, me paying attention to Landon when Wyatt wants me to watch him do anything, making him stop brushing his teeth (only kid in the world that freaks out when I make him put the toothebrush away 30 minutes after he ran into the bathroom to do it). The list goes on.
My mom came over for a quick visit tonight. During a tantrum when Wy got to stand on the wall, I asked her how she survived my toddler years. Her response, so very like my mom: I put you in daycare and got a job to pay for it. Though this toddler thing with Wyatt is the hardest thing I've ever done in my whole life, I wouldn't trade it. It seems like our little family has it's own checks-n-balances system set up. Wyatt's a monster, he makes Landon cry, I calm Landon down while either explaining to Wy why he can't have what he wants or putting him in Timeout until he calms down enough to be able to listen, then I get the hugs and the cuddles from my "I'm too big for loves" toddler.
These monsters are my world. More often then not they're worth every minute without sleep or day full of stress.
My mom came over for a quick visit tonight. During a tantrum when Wy got to stand on the wall, I asked her how she survived my toddler years. Her response, so very like my mom: I put you in daycare and got a job to pay for it. Though this toddler thing with Wyatt is the hardest thing I've ever done in my whole life, I wouldn't trade it. It seems like our little family has it's own checks-n-balances system set up. Wyatt's a monster, he makes Landon cry, I calm Landon down while either explaining to Wy why he can't have what he wants or putting him in Timeout until he calms down enough to be able to listen, then I get the hugs and the cuddles from my "I'm too big for loves" toddler.
These monsters are my world. More often then not they're worth every minute without sleep or day full of stress.
9.14.2010
A Moment of Clarity While Smushed Like Sardines...
We have had a busy few months. Beginning the first week of August with our Fish Lake trip, our family in one way or another has been on the move pretty consistently. We had a weekend of peace after Fish Lake, then it was Mike's deer hunting trip, then Chris' bachelor party, then Labor Day weekend (and Wyatt's 2ns birthday party), this last weekend's trip to Jackson Hole, WY for Sarah's bachelorette party, and next weekend is the wedding. Two more weeks off and then we're looking at Mike's birthday but we'll pretend that in those 2 weeks we can recover financially and emotionally from everything prior.
'Tis the bachelorette party I have been formulating a post about and now get to express.
I realized beyond a doubt this weekend that Mike and I were/are meant to be together; collectively, we have grown up...and we have grown together. A weekend trip with the girls to celebrate Sarah and Chris impending marriage was going to be my relaxing time away from the organized chaos that has become my life. The final email regarding the trip was my first BIG clue that there would be no relaxing. Did I have a good time? Yes. Would I have enjoyed the same activities at my bachelorette party (if I had HAD one and not been preggers)? Probably not. Do I regret going? Not so much. Did I have fun? Yes. Did I realize that I am now that old fart who likes to go out one night and then stay curled up in a ball for 2 days recovering? Yes.
Another realization that made it easier to come home to my hubby was realizing that we have the same core beliefs. We have always been honest with eachother (no matter how uncomforable the conversation) regarding our expectations, limits, and compromises that we expect. If something comes up, we navigate around it. Not saying there isn't a screaming match or two while we get it worked out. In the end, we know where the other stands. And 99% of the time we have come to an agreement before bedtime (for whoever gets in there first).
I'm closer to 30 than 20 now. Combined with that fact and the loss of my appetite for drinking anymore, it's safe to admit aloud, in type: I. Am. Grown. Up.
'Tis the bachelorette party I have been formulating a post about and now get to express.
I realized beyond a doubt this weekend that Mike and I were/are meant to be together; collectively, we have grown up...and we have grown together. A weekend trip with the girls to celebrate Sarah and Chris impending marriage was going to be my relaxing time away from the organized chaos that has become my life. The final email regarding the trip was my first BIG clue that there would be no relaxing. Did I have a good time? Yes. Would I have enjoyed the same activities at my bachelorette party (if I had HAD one and not been preggers)? Probably not. Do I regret going? Not so much. Did I have fun? Yes. Did I realize that I am now that old fart who likes to go out one night and then stay curled up in a ball for 2 days recovering? Yes.
Another realization that made it easier to come home to my hubby was realizing that we have the same core beliefs. We have always been honest with eachother (no matter how uncomforable the conversation) regarding our expectations, limits, and compromises that we expect. If something comes up, we navigate around it. Not saying there isn't a screaming match or two while we get it worked out. In the end, we know where the other stands. And 99% of the time we have come to an agreement before bedtime (for whoever gets in there first).
I'm closer to 30 than 20 now. Combined with that fact and the loss of my appetite for drinking anymore, it's safe to admit aloud, in type: I. Am. Grown. Up.
8.23.2010
high school never really ends...
Moving to UT from VA at 14 was the biggest turning point of my life. You'd think it would be something prophetic like having kids or getting married, graduating high school or college. But for me, the biggest changes in my personality and choices happened with that move.
13 years later, with the wisdom of time and knowledge, I see why that move was so important in me becoming...me. From my own perspective, in VA I had a support group with which I'd grown up with. We went through our lives together, the pecking order the same from when we were 5 until I left, 9 years later. Then I moved here. Here, I was a no one. Here, there were already pecking orders which left me at the bottom rung of a very tall ladder. I was smart. I couldn't go take the classes I should have been taking because they were taught at the High School whilst I was banished away to another year of junior high. The drama queen position was taken, the nerd position was taken, the partying position was taken, the "molly mormon" position was taken. I was alone. With the exception of my mother. Who I really didn't like at the moment since she was directly responsible for where I was and why I was here.
Due to the beautiful invention of the internet, technology, and facebook, I've been able to reconnect with people from VA. I've also been able to reconnect with people from high school. It is in regards to the latter that I shall refer to for the remainder of my...self-expression.
After being found by one friend, we have since discovered that the 10 years since graduating high school have brought us closer to the same level. Same interests, same activities, same history since we left the hell-hole of Cottonwood High. Yet after an activity this evening involving many other people (and another person from high school), I find myself reminded of a group I wanted to be a part of, and now, 10 years later, am still on the outskirts, observing. I know who I am now, I know more about myself now that I did at 14. I know people I like, I have friends that I enjoy the company of being around (and hopefully, they the same). Yet, throw me back into a high school setting, with people that were there with me or more around me, during such a trying time of my life, and I find myself regressing back to that insecure, needy, and outcast-feeling teenager I was in high school. A personal fault? A regression of the worst kind? I guess the question then becomes something rather simple: do we ever actually outgrow high school? Or is high school simply just more baggage for us to carry around everyday of our lives like ex-boyfriends?
13 years later, with the wisdom of time and knowledge, I see why that move was so important in me becoming...me. From my own perspective, in VA I had a support group with which I'd grown up with. We went through our lives together, the pecking order the same from when we were 5 until I left, 9 years later. Then I moved here. Here, I was a no one. Here, there were already pecking orders which left me at the bottom rung of a very tall ladder. I was smart. I couldn't go take the classes I should have been taking because they were taught at the High School whilst I was banished away to another year of junior high. The drama queen position was taken, the nerd position was taken, the partying position was taken, the "molly mormon" position was taken. I was alone. With the exception of my mother. Who I really didn't like at the moment since she was directly responsible for where I was and why I was here.
Due to the beautiful invention of the internet, technology, and facebook, I've been able to reconnect with people from VA. I've also been able to reconnect with people from high school. It is in regards to the latter that I shall refer to for the remainder of my...self-expression.
After being found by one friend, we have since discovered that the 10 years since graduating high school have brought us closer to the same level. Same interests, same activities, same history since we left the hell-hole of Cottonwood High. Yet after an activity this evening involving many other people (and another person from high school), I find myself reminded of a group I wanted to be a part of, and now, 10 years later, am still on the outskirts, observing. I know who I am now, I know more about myself now that I did at 14. I know people I like, I have friends that I enjoy the company of being around (and hopefully, they the same). Yet, throw me back into a high school setting, with people that were there with me or more around me, during such a trying time of my life, and I find myself regressing back to that insecure, needy, and outcast-feeling teenager I was in high school. A personal fault? A regression of the worst kind? I guess the question then becomes something rather simple: do we ever actually outgrow high school? Or is high school simply just more baggage for us to carry around everyday of our lives like ex-boyfriends?
8.10.2010
If only I had the words...
Fish Lake was a triumph this year. The kids had a rough night the first night (honestly, that was poor planning from a parent's perspective) but Satuday night went MUCH better. Mike caught a purdy trout, Wy and I walked our loop, and Meadow and Doc were...useless. Sunday was the day though. Sunday morning, after getting Landon's bottle to him at 5:30, I waited for him to fall back asleep and as the sun was working its way over the mountains, snuck back into the tent and stole Meadow from Doc. We walked. We walked 2 miles. We walked 2 miles around the Lake Trail at sunrise. We walked until my soul was healed.Any given day, before even having my first cup of coffee, I'm likely to get peed on, pooed on, barfed on, and cried at. All at the same time. But then there are the perks. I get to be there. I get to watch the smiles, the attempts at crawling, the temper tantrums, everything. Vacations are nice. Alone time with Meadow on that lake healed my soul.
What would I do if I didn't always have some amount of house chores to do? What would I do without 1, nay 2 screaming things demanding love, attention, patience, tolerance, discipline, nutrition, and comfort all day? I may still be the 3-5 mile exercise guru I once was. I may be up in them hills doing my very best to hit the top of whatever trail I attempt. Everyday. But one could live a whole life with woulddas and shoulddas and coulddas. Instead, I hold on to the beauty of the two boys I get to train. We're about a year from Wy being able to come up and hike with me. I'll give him til the summer he's 2. Landon can go visit Gramma. In the meantime, I live for the beauty of a 2 mile hike with Meadow. Healing a soul I didn't know was hurt.
7.07.2010
An uumpaloompa and a monster...
Mike and I have figured out two things: 1) He doesn't know how to make girls; thereby, I have learned how to cope with boys. More importantly, I'm discovering that I am much more qualified to have boys than girls. 2) We don't know how to have normal-sized things. We like big things. Landon's wearing 6 month clothes now, Wyatt's in 3Ts, and Doc, well doc's the size of a Shetland pony.
I did yard work yesterday. 3 hours I was in the backyard weedeating, mowing, and cleaning up dog poo (not necessarily in that order). Wyatt was with me step for step. He's such an active little thing. When the poo was thrown away and I was weedeating, he was there, pushing pulling and maneuvering the trash can whereever he wanted it. Once I started mowing, he was running and hiding with the dogs. I used to worry about them rough housing with Wy in the backyard, but they're both so protective, my worries are miniscule nowadays. After an hour outside with Dorothy while I ran an errand, we came in and we all crashed for 2 hours. When Mike got home, he ran in and out, up and down, and all-around with him until dinner time and the subsequent bedtime. But Landon's different. Landon chitters and talks, and eats, and poos. He's not nearly as coordinated as Wy, but already they balance each other in ways I'd only hoped. Wy's such a sweet kid, after dinner time, it's his brother time. He makes my hand tickle Landon, he tries tickling him himself, he kisses and he plays with him. At night, when Landon gets up for food, Wy's right there awake with him. He stays awake until Landon goes back to sleep, and he pets him if I let him.
I can only hope that they're relationship continues this way. I can only hope that they stay close through the years. Wy teaches Mike and I everyday how very lucky we are. God, this kid can make a girl laugh.
I did yard work yesterday. 3 hours I was in the backyard weedeating, mowing, and cleaning up dog poo (not necessarily in that order). Wyatt was with me step for step. He's such an active little thing. When the poo was thrown away and I was weedeating, he was there, pushing pulling and maneuvering the trash can whereever he wanted it. Once I started mowing, he was running and hiding with the dogs. I used to worry about them rough housing with Wy in the backyard, but they're both so protective, my worries are miniscule nowadays. After an hour outside with Dorothy while I ran an errand, we came in and we all crashed for 2 hours. When Mike got home, he ran in and out, up and down, and all-around with him until dinner time and the subsequent bedtime. But Landon's different. Landon chitters and talks, and eats, and poos. He's not nearly as coordinated as Wy, but already they balance each other in ways I'd only hoped. Wy's such a sweet kid, after dinner time, it's his brother time. He makes my hand tickle Landon, he tries tickling him himself, he kisses and he plays with him. At night, when Landon gets up for food, Wy's right there awake with him. He stays awake until Landon goes back to sleep, and he pets him if I let him.
I can only hope that they're relationship continues this way. I can only hope that they stay close through the years. Wy teaches Mike and I everyday how very lucky we are. God, this kid can make a girl laugh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)