I have a LOT of days, especially lately, that I think I am doing a lot of things wrong. Dinner times are a loud stressful disaster, my house is just plain gross, my children spend most of the day beating on each other, they watch too much TV, don't eat enough vegetables, the list could go on for an uncomfortable amount of time.
But every now and then I get the feeling that we are doing something right. Like maybe my kid's WON'T be ruined for life with no social skills or ability to behave in the real world.
Like last night. We had a hodge-podge dinner, which is good because it's about the only dinner that I can actually enjoy because they're not being big giant freaks. Anyway. The dinner included a left-over fruit plate. And while my kids don't eat enough vegetables (well, Bravo anyways, Alpha loves raw veggies and Charlie throws most things, veggies or not off his tray. Gravity testing.) they certainly eat enough fruit. Berries in our house are gold. No, more valuable in gold. And I've spent the fortune on it to prove that they're worth gold.
Right, so we had a fruit plate and I just plunked it on the table and before I could blink the older two had snagged 4 strawberries each so I quickly grabbed 2 for Charlie and then noticed that somehow Matt had invoked his super ninja stealth skills and was munching on a strawberry. I'm very used to not getting strawberries in our house because they are the gods of fruit. SO Alpha was sitting at the table counting (always counting, never ending counting) how many strawberries everybody had. He looked at me and asked if I had eaten my strawberries already. "no, honey, I don't have any strawberries. You got 4, Bravo got 4, Charlie got 2 and Daddy got 1." He looked heartbroken. He had little tears in his eyes and said that he loves strawberries and I would to and Daddy should go buy some. I assured him I was fine and next time strawberries were on sale we would buy more. He then picked up one of his 2 remaining berries, walked over to me, kissed me on the nose, and said "here you go mommy, it will be delicious."
Like I said, we're doing something right. And that was the best tasting strawberry I have ever eaten.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
life got busy/ my upcoming ultrasound
I hate it when I feel buried by life. It just all sort of... crept up on me. My job that I went back to simply so I can leave in 6 months, my 2 older boys in nursery school, Christmas, new years, sick children, more allergy fun (this now makes 3 serious allergic events in 6 weeks. Ugh- this is not a good track record. But at least only one required the hospital.)
And I am feeling a little over whelmed. I want some time back. I want to be able to write on here more. I think it's good for me. Good for my brain. Somewhere where I am only known as "Chrissy" and can't be googled by my actual factual name. Where I can write about my struggles, write about my grief, write about my sometimes disappointment with life.
I want to have a cleaner house. I want to start baking again. I want to have more time to knit. I want to have time to focus on this little tiny baby inside of me and to get excited.
Really what I'm thinking about is my ultrasound in 2 weeks. I'm terrified. TERRIFIED. My last 20 week ultrasound didn't go so hot. Before Charlie and Thomas I though that bad things at 20 week ultrasounds happened to other people. You would hear the stories, but statistically it couldn't happen to me. Guess what, Chrissy? Statistics don't give a rats behind about you. They pick randomly and here you go. And now I know that bad things can happen to babies. They DO happen to babies. And now I know that I am not exempt from that. It can and has and could again happen to MY family. And There are a lot of bad things that can happen to babies.
I am so scared for January 27th. It's not that I think the same thing is going to happen as last time, I don't. But now that I know that not every baby is developing perfectly, and now that I've had it happen to me, I am just so scared for this baby. And maybe that's why I am still not excited. I mean, I am excited, but mostly the terror is over-riding the excitement right now. I think my brain is trying to protect itself. But really, if something is wrong, then I know I will just feel guilty because I wasn't excited enough about this child.
I want to fast forward. Or at least get a glimpse of life in a year. I want to know if we're all happy and healthy and living. I'm scared for this baby and I'm scared for Bravo. And I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of worry. I'm tired of feeling so emotionally on edge. I'm just plain tired.
Why do kids have to get sick? Why do babies have to not always be OK? Sometimes it just doesn't seem fair. Not just my kids and my babies, but all kids and babies. It makes me so sad to hear of babies not being hunky dory. And to imagine what the parents are going through breaks my heart.
Ok. Before I start spiraling I'm going to end this really focused and happy post now. And I really am going to try to write on this more.
And I am feeling a little over whelmed. I want some time back. I want to be able to write on here more. I think it's good for me. Good for my brain. Somewhere where I am only known as "Chrissy" and can't be googled by my actual factual name. Where I can write about my struggles, write about my grief, write about my sometimes disappointment with life.
I want to have a cleaner house. I want to start baking again. I want to have more time to knit. I want to have time to focus on this little tiny baby inside of me and to get excited.
Really what I'm thinking about is my ultrasound in 2 weeks. I'm terrified. TERRIFIED. My last 20 week ultrasound didn't go so hot. Before Charlie and Thomas I though that bad things at 20 week ultrasounds happened to other people. You would hear the stories, but statistically it couldn't happen to me. Guess what, Chrissy? Statistics don't give a rats behind about you. They pick randomly and here you go. And now I know that bad things can happen to babies. They DO happen to babies. And now I know that I am not exempt from that. It can and has and could again happen to MY family. And There are a lot of bad things that can happen to babies.
I am so scared for January 27th. It's not that I think the same thing is going to happen as last time, I don't. But now that I know that not every baby is developing perfectly, and now that I've had it happen to me, I am just so scared for this baby. And maybe that's why I am still not excited. I mean, I am excited, but mostly the terror is over-riding the excitement right now. I think my brain is trying to protect itself. But really, if something is wrong, then I know I will just feel guilty because I wasn't excited enough about this child.
I want to fast forward. Or at least get a glimpse of life in a year. I want to know if we're all happy and healthy and living. I'm scared for this baby and I'm scared for Bravo. And I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of worry. I'm tired of feeling so emotionally on edge. I'm just plain tired.
Why do kids have to get sick? Why do babies have to not always be OK? Sometimes it just doesn't seem fair. Not just my kids and my babies, but all kids and babies. It makes me so sad to hear of babies not being hunky dory. And to imagine what the parents are going through breaks my heart.
Ok. Before I start spiraling I'm going to end this really focused and happy post now. And I really am going to try to write on this more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)