The Other Shoe

The last few weeks, whenever I’ve gone someplace, I’ve heard about how sick everyone’s kids are. There have definitely been some bugs going around, and I have counted myself lucky that we have remained healthy. I was so nervous when Grant went away for his class that the kids would all come down with the flu, but we skated through that weekend without the slightest sniffle. But it still has felt like it was only a matter of time . . .

Eleanor is sick.

She told me she was getting sick Thursday night, but I thought she was just wanting to stay home from school the next day for some reason. The next day, she kept telling me she didn’t feel well. I had several plumbers coming over that day to give us an estimate because our Valentine’s present was the discovery that we had a pipe leaking under the house. We told her that she didn’t have a fever, so she had to go to school.

One plumber came in the morning and gave us a really high estimate. We already had been quoted a lower estimate over the phone from someone else, so I told the guy we would think about it and get back to them. Then I waited anxiously most of the day, not being able to use my kitchen sink, for the other plumber to be available. Right at the time the other plumber was supposed to show up, I got a call from Eleanor’s school. It was only about a half hour before school got out, but they told me Eleanor wasn’t feeling well and wanted me to come pick her up. I left a note for the plumber and got Phae and Curtis packed into the car.

When I saw Eleanor, I kind of teased her, “You just couldn’t make it a few more minutes, huh?”

The ladies in the office, whose pity Eleanor had already won, vouched for her, saying she made it as long as she could. That made me feel like I appeared to be heartless when I had really only been joking since it seemed funny that I was picking her up only a few minutes early. The end of school bell rang as we were walking out to the parking lot.

Of course, the plumber had showed up while we were gone. Luckily, he had called Grant and gotten instructions from him where to go to just get started.

I quickly realized Eleanor wasn’t exaggerating about feeling sick. She was more and more sniffly as the day wore on. That night proved to be a bad one, with Eleanor waking, coughing and crying because she was so miserable. Curtis woke, too, and no matter how much I tried to comfort him and get him sleepy again, he just kept crying for me. I even gave him tylenol because he’s been on a never-ending teething cycle since around Thanksgiving last year. After giving it all I could until about 1:30 in the morning, I finally let him cry for about 40 minutes before he finally gave up and settled down. I hate letting him cry when I know he’s teething. But I think he just had gotten too awake from Eleanor’s coughing. I had done all I could for him. Our only other option was to have Grant spend the night on the couch with him, but neither of them sleep very well when they do that.

Saturday was a stay-at-home day. The house stayed a mess. We let kids stay in jammies (those who wanted to- Phae likes to get dressed for the day) and tried to push fluids and vitamins. The above pictures are from Saturday. We gave Eleanor a water bottle to make sure she would always have water on hand so she could keep drinking. In order to keep Curtis from trying to steal his sick sister’s water bottle, we gave him one of his own. And Phaedra got one for the sake of fairness. Eleanor had gone to try to take a nap; she was exhausted after coughing through the night. Grant built a fire, and the two littles were enjoying sitting by the warmth and slurping their water bottles.

Those water bottles are my grad school trophies. They all have the PSU logo on them because Grant would buy me a new water bottle every term when he bought new books at the bookstore. It was his way of thanking me for putting up with the crazy hours having him gone all the time. I’m still waiting to see what thank you I get for putting up with the time he’s gone working on the doctorate degree.

Soon after the pictures were taken, Curtis tripped while walking with his water bottle and hit his mouth on it. After wiping at blood and letting him suck ice for a while, we were finally able to get a look at it. He hit one of his two front top teeth. He seems to have a tiny chip in the tooth, and the gums around it are scraped. His gums were purple on the front and back of the tooth. We’re really hoping he doesn’t lose it/there’s no damage to the permanent tooth above it.

Last night was another round of coughing and all three kids up in the middle of the night (Eleanor the only one coughing though). We stayed home from church to recover and to keep from exposing anyone. Curtis’s mouth looks a little better today, but only time will tell how much damage happened there. He smacked the right side of his face on the hearth today while he was trying to climb up onto it—a move he has done countless times before without incident. Do growth spurts make kids more clumsy? It seems like I’ve heard that somewhere. If so, he must be going through a major growth spurt.

If problems come in threes, I think we can count the plumbing, Eleanor’s cold, and Curtis’s crash. There. We’ve met our quota on mishaps. We’ll be accepting no more entries for the time being, thank you very much.

No Qualms

We’ve been having some rare, off-and-on sunshine this week. On Tuesday, I let Phaedra go outside and enjoy playing while Curtis napped (which is really the best time to let her go out if I don’t want him crying at the back door the whole time). She was playing around in the sandbox when she started hollering at me about something she found. I think she was calling it her “squishy friend.” I came out to look, and saw this:

I think my response was something like, “Ewww! A slimy slug!”

That didn’t bother her a bit. She declared that it was so cute, and she proceeded to talk and coo to it the same way she does to Curtis sometimes.

I told her I was pretty sure it was dead. She agreed with me, but she kept on talking to it lovingly.

She loves anything creepy and crawly. She chooses books about spiders at the library.

Maybe she’s socially starved. I’ve got to get this girl a play date.

Phaedra and I have been at odds this week. She’s going through a phase where she just doesn’t obey a thing I tell her. I’ll tell her to stop doing something; she’ll do it one or two more times before she stops. I have to tell her over and over to get her to do something. She does things she knows are against the rules . . .

She’s been pushing my buttons.

She came into my room yesterday morning right after I hit the snooze button for the last time I was going to hit it that morning. I asked her to go to the family room and wait for me; I would be out in a few minutes. She told me no, she wanted to snuggle me, and she proceeded to climb into my bed next to me. Knowing she likes time to be close to Mommy, I tried to put up with it, but her little feet started dancing all around on my back no matter how many times I tried to tell her to hold still. That was the last straw. I had had it! I was so sick and tired of her ignoring me to do what she wanted to do.

I told Grant he had to do something with his child. He talked to her (WAY more calmly than I wanted him to). Before he was out of the house for work, she was already doing something that isn’t allowed. I told him it might be better for her survival if she went with him. Of course, that wasn’t an option, so I was stuck with her.

Around lunch time, Grant showed up. He knew just what we needed. He could tell that Phaedra was acting up because she was feeling that middle child feeling of not getting the attention she needed. She and I needed some positive time together. Grant stayed home with Curtis while I got to take Phae out to lunch. She was so excited and happy. I was so happy to see her in a good mood and to be able to focus only on her for a while.

She sang me a song that went something like this:

I love Mommy and going to lunch with Mommy.

And Daddy isn’t here, but I love him too.

And I love my sister Eleanor

And my baby brother.

And that’s all that I love!

(pause)

But I love one other thing, and that’s candy and my grandmas

And I even love Grandma Mills, even though she is dead.

She told me that was her love song. We had a great time. We both ate burgers and fries, and she got a chocolate milkshake. I even got her a kid’s meal so she could be excited about the toy. She told me her heart was happy. She kept putting her arm around me and kissing my cheek while we ate. We went home feeling spoiled and pleasant.

For me, the feeling lasted a long time. For Phaedra, I think it might have worn off a bit by the time we picked up Eleanor from school. It made me realize I need to figure out a way to focus my attention on her more during the day, even with Curtis around. I’m so grateful I have a husband who is an attentive father and finds ways to help me when I’m losing steam with the kids.

And I’m grateful for Phaedra, even if she loves dead slugs. She keeps spunk in my life. And she’s always good for a snuggle.

(She likes it when I take pictures of her with her toys.)

Another One?!

Eleanor yanked out another tooth Saturday morning (Feb. 2nd) before breakfast. It was wobbling around in her mouth, and she was getting tired of trying to eat with it. She spent some time trying to pull it Friday night before bed and was disappointed when I told her she had to quit and go to bed even though she hadn’t managed to get it out yet. So first thing Saturday morning, she was in the bathroom yanking on it again before breakfast.

I’m a little bummed I didn’t get a picture of her while it was still loose. She could push it forward over her bottom lip and close her lips so she just had that one front tooth sticking over her lips. It looked hilarious! The main reason I didn’t get a picture of it was because I honestly thought I had more time. The tooth didn’t seem that close to coming out when Eleanor started working on it. I guess she’s more determined/brave than I thought.

I had to include these other pictures that I took of her because this girl just cracks me up. It’s been fun to listen to her try to talk with no front teeth.

I Didn’t Run

Eleven years ago today, my best friend dragged me out in the wee hours of the morning to watch the sunrise with him, and he asked me to marry him. I did not run from my shadow that day, and it’s been springtime ever since.

(Yes, I realize that makes me sound like a groundhog, but I’m a lucky, happy one.)

Desperate Housewife

I am SO tired.

It’s amazing how easily three little curtain climbers can just suck the energy right out of a person.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this post. I just want to get something written because I might as well since Grant is gone (at class) and I have time to myself.

Time to myself.

It’s hardly worth it after a long day in the trenches alone with the kids and a night spent tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable enough to fool myself that I can sleep without his warm body next to me. This time to myself comes at a great cost. And I hardly have energy left to do anything with this time.

I’ve noticed that the first day is the hardest. He leaves in the morning, and an hour or so later, he texts me a few times. Then things go silent. No communication. The internet out there is terrible, and I’ve lost him again. No telling if I’ll hear from him again in a few hours or if he’ll contact me on his way home when he finally gets cell phone signal again.

It’s about Thursday afternoon when I usually get feeling desperate. My mom has either been out of town or dealing with problems of her own the last few times Grant has gone to class. I run through my mind a (rather) short list of adults I feel I can connect to if needed. It’s hard to explain, but Thursday afternoon is when I feel a very strong NEED to connect with another adult, almost just to reassure myself that it is possible. I usually fall back on my mom or my sister. I always feel a little iffy about what level of crazy I want to expose to anyone else (and yet, here I am blogging about it—Ha! Note to self: don’t blog while exhausted). It’s about this time that I’m kicking myself because if I would just call my friends for a random chat more often, it wouldn’t be so odd when I called them up randomly to chat when I hit that desperation point. But there I am, in desperation mode, and I can’t call anyone randomly because if they get any hint that I’m barely holding it together, if they ask one little, “Hey, are you ok?” I’m going to fall apart. And then I’ll get off the phone and just be embarrassed. Lonely and embarrassed.

Eleanor’s school <bless them> seems to continually plan days off when Grant is gone at his class. That means I can’t even count on our routine getting me through. No, I have to come up with ways to entertain and keep them busy to keep them from fighting all day long. And they still fight all day long.

I know you’re diagnosing me and prescribing me pills in your head as you read this, but just try to restrain yourself, ok? My good friend told me I’m not crazy; I have what’s called “stay-at-home-motherhood.” I believe she’s right. I have a pretty serious case of it, too. So please don’t judge me ‘cause sometimes a mother just has to spew.

I went to pick up Eleanor from school on Thursday, still not having had much connection with another adult that day and wondering what in the world I was going to do to get through the next couple days. When I pulled around and stopped in the line to pick up kids, I saw two of my friends, who I love dearly, standing outside their cars and chatting at the front of the line. I wanted to hop out of my still running car, leaving Phaedra and Curtis in the back, and run across the parking lot to them. I didn’t care whether I stood there listening to them talk or joined the conversation. One of them was pulled out of our ward because of a recent change to the ward boundaries, and I’ve been wanting to tell her how much I miss seeing her at church. But I didn’t leap from my idling vehicle for the following reasons:

1. Leaving 2 young kids in the back of a running car just so I could chat with friends across the parking lot in front of a bunch of school workers who are required to report stuff like that seems to me like a move that could get said beautiful children taken away from me.
2. Leaving 2 young kids in the back of my running car to sprint across the parking lot to my friends probably isn’t something I could pull off without showing the level of desperation I was feeling. I doubt I could hide it with a casual, “Hey. What’s up?”
3. Upon arriving near my friends, I might not be able to restrain myself from throwing my arms around them and hugging them like they were an oasis among miles and miles of desert.
4. Or crying. I might just get over there and start crying. And crying makes it VERY difficult to hide the crazy. It’s right there running down my face for all to see.
5. Plus, you know, I was in line. So if the line moved and I wasn’t in my running vehicle with my 2 kids (at least 1 of them would probably be screaming by that time), people would honk and be irritated.

Instead, I sat in my car and watched them. I didn’t read the book I had brought with me as I usually do while I wait to pull up in line. I just sat and watched, longing to be a part of that conversation, wondering what they were talking about. It didn’t take long before I started to cry. At first, I shook my head and thought, “pull it together woman!” But then I realized that it would feel so good to take a moment and just let it out. When else would I get that chance without kids climbing on me and asking me a ton of questions? I sure hope none of the other parents saw the crying lady in the van. When it was time to pull up and pick up Eleanor, I got myself under control, wiped my eyes and tried not to make lingering eye contact with anyone so they wouldn’t see how red and puffy my eyes were.

This is what Thursdays are like for me sometimes. They only come once a month, and they are in no way related to my menstrual cycle. I just get real lonely real fast.

I have a hard time calling on friends because they have families of their own to attend. Even play dates are overrated. I have tried and tried to get on board with play dates, but I just get stressed out when other people’s kids are at my house. I think, technically, I’m not really a “kid person.”

Back when I was a young single adult, I used to say that I would have at least one kid because it’s a commandment. After a while, I altered that to say that I would have at least two because only-children are warped (no offense). When my siblings started having kids and I was able to spend more time with them, I warmed up to children—not all children—just those specific children. I love my kids dearly, and I even love their friends. I think my tolerance for kids raises by age directly related to Eleanor and the ages I’ve already learned to handle. I guess what I’m saying is it just doesn’t come as easily to me as it seems to come to others. The Lord knew what He was doing when He put me in Primary callings early on at church. The more exposure I have to kids, the more I love them.

I just still have a hard time inviting them into my nest. This is my home. It isn’t particularly large. Our space is shared with the kids’ space, and the kids know what to leave alone. Visiting kids don’t know that . . .

Oh dear. I had to stop myself. That was really turning into a rant, and I don’t need to go there.

Today was better than yesterday. I formed a plan, didn’t try to do anything to spectacular, but I still tried to make it fun for the kids. I completely wore myself out because I was trying to keep busy to pass the time and avoid loneliness. I think it worked pretty well. Plus, Grant was able to text me a few times during the day. That’s always a comfort to know he’s still alive and maybe thinking of me.

I’m trying. I know I still need a lot of work, and I keep trying to improve as a mother, wife, friend, and every other role I play in this life. I’m certainly not perfect, but I’m trying to inch my way there.

Now I’m going to insert a picture of adorable kids to wipe your memories of all my raw (and somewhat tongue-in-cheek) emotions. You know that little red flashy thing they use on the Men In Black movies? Just gaze into these two adorable faces . . .

Curtis recently learned to climb the kitchen chairs. He’s so proud of himself, and he can finally reach all the toys Phaedra plays with at the table. Phae is going to have to revamp her playing style to allow for more sharing (or hide out in her room all day).

Eleanor

 

I haven’t had the chance to just write about Eleanor in a while. In the pictures above, she’s doing one of her favorite activities lately: reading books about sharks. She’s also finishing up her school lunch because she never seems to finish it at school.

Eleanor started getting interested in sharks a while back. During that time, Grant went out of town to South Padre Island, Texas and brought back shark tooth necklaces for the girls. That just sealed the deal. She kept wondering what type of shark her tooth came from. She decided she would read every shark book she could until she learned from what species of shark her tooth came. Every time we go to the library, Eleanor just plays around while we look at children’s books for Phae. None of those books tempt her. She bides her time until we go to the children’s nonfiction section and she can grab a bunch of shark books. I’m beginning to worry she has read almost all of them.

Eleanor is doing really well in school. She always tells me proudly about being able to wear her “self manager” badge at school. She reads all the time. Her school sends home calendars for us to mark how many minutes the kids read each day. When they add up the minutes at the end of the month, Eleanor often has the most minutes in her class. When I went to parent-teacher conference in the fall, her teacher said Eleanor was at the reading level they hope kids will be at the end of first grade. The only problem her teacher mentioned was that Eleanor sometimes has a hard time getting her work finished. That was no surprise to me. I’ve always known she was meticulous. She’s either slow because she has to have things “just so” and will take her time to get it right, or she gets distracted by talking to her friends. Honestly, I don’t know where she would have inherited either of those challenges. What are you looking at?

I’ve been concerned lately because she comes home from school and tells me how someone wronged her. Lately, she seems to mention the same person doing it. As her mother, I’m tempted to worry about her getting picked on. The other day, a boy kicked mud into Eleanor’s face; she had mud on her face, boots, and pants to prove it. But as her mother, I also have to consider the fact that she is a sensitive girl, often the victim. I don’t know whether to think this boy deliberately splashed mud in her face or if he was just happily jumping in puddles and she was too close. Sometimes I want to put a stop to things, and other times, I want her to learn to be assertive, deal with problems on her own. At least I know she will never be the one picking on someone else because I know her personality.

Eleanor makes friends so easily. I can’t believe how she can walk up to anyone she doesn’t know, even some kids who are older than her, and start peppering them with questions about themselves. She usually comes back to me and says, “Mommy! I made a new friend, and his/her name is _____.” Anyone who tells her their name and talks with her a little is an automatic friend. When I pick her up from school, I often see her walking slowly and chatting with a teacher (not her own teacher) on the way to the spot where I pick her up.

Eleanor recently started bearing her testimony in church. I think she got the idea to do it because she asked me when she could speak in sacrament, and I told her she had to wait for the bishopric to ask her unless she was going up to bear her testimony. After some talks about what a testimony is and what things are appropriate to say, Eleanor eagerly went up to bear her testimony for the first time in November. She has gone up to the podium every fast and testimony meeting since then. She has told me once or twice that she was nervous, but you can hardly tell by listening to her. I know she didn’t get that from me. I am not comfortable in front of a large group of people. I am in awe of her when I see her stand up and talk about her feelings about Jesus in front of so many people.

Eleanor may be sensitive, but she is such a confident little girl. It makes me feel like I must have done something right if she is so sure of herself and not the least bit self-conscious. But I probably can’t really take credit for it. She’s just amazing all on her own. She is such a blessing to have in our home.