Friday, June 15th, 2012
My little guy. What can I say. I gush. I swoon. I am madly in love. We always say to them, “My two kids.” Fia now says, “Mommy, hold you. Your two kids.” I swoop them into my arms.
Through tears, I wrote this week about how fast they grow up. Through frustration, I wrote about how little time I feel I have. Both are issues I think most of you can relate to. Some days are better than others. There is no solution other than to try and be in the moment as much–and as best–as you can.
I noticed Emmett’s feet the other day. The bottoms of them have little X’s. He also has a crease on his big toes. I wonder what a palm reader would say? Maybe he’s destined for greatness? Or, to just be happy. Because I swear, I don’t know how The Divine did it, but the universe gave me the world’s most perfect baby boy. Happy, lively, full of spirit. I love to suck on his toes. He likes to suck on my chin. He is delicious. So today is all about Em.
Look at that Tooshie!
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baby, baby feet, creases in feet, Emmett, feet, fia friday, independence, infant, newborn, time, two kids | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Fia Friday
Thursday, June 7th, 2012
I am so frustrated. I can’t get anything done. I am like a chicken with my head cut off, running on a treadmill. Which means I’m not getting anywhere. I don’t even know what I’m writing about now except to say I have all these thoughts on posts I want to write but I can’t write them because all the other “stuff” gets in the way.
This morning my plan was to take 3 hours to write. Cleo was going to take the kids to the park. But then we couldn’t install the car seats correctly in her car and things just went array. After 45 minutes of trying to make them work, I said forget it. I’d just take them and pick them back up. By the time we did that, it was 10:45 and I had two back-to-back work calls from 11-noon. Don’t get me wrong: the car safety stuff is my biggest priority. I knew I was doing the right thing. But it doesn’t mean I can’t get frustrated about this sh-t.
I sat in my car in the parking lot eating a chicken leg (just realized if I wanted to be “clever” I could say my headless chicken had one less leg on the treadmill. Analogy: even less being accomplished). My laptop sat in its case. Calls end and Phil calls.
“Hey, do you want to go to the movies?” Whhaaaatttt? He’s a screenwriter and has to do some research on his next project. I’m flattered he asked me, but I almost choked out the chicken leg.
“I can’t honey,” I said, as calmly as possible. “I have to go get the kids and Cleo.” He was there with the whole cluster-f–k carseat thing, so I’m surprised he didn’t sense how flabbergasted I was. He must really believe that I can handle all this. Ha! What a joke!
Call ends, I toss the chicken leg in the garbage, wipe the grease on my pants and went.
My problem is certainly not unique. But I keep saying I want to simplify. And for a time, I do. Then things build up and errands happen, calls come up and I’m back to feeling incredibly stressed.
I need to remind myself that I am incredibly blessed. I have two beautiful babies. I don’t work full time so I get to spend more time with them than most working moms. But I also think therein lies my problem. I am scattered because I don’t have a full time job. If I did, I’d go to the office everyday. Kiss them in the morning and then at night. Have a schedule. But having a “freelance” schedule can often mean no schedule at all, so I’m all over the place. Which leads to guilt. Lots of it. Should I be blogging about my kids or should I be spending time with them? It’s a conundrum.
Then, I wrote a post this week that I really loved (please read it). It came from the heart and was about how they grow up so fast. I think that is why I feel guilty for not holding on to every moment. Or when a day gets wasted, like today, I get so bent out of shape. I need to practice my hypnotherapy. In all my free time.
Oh, and by the way, I was already weepy from my writing the post on Tuesday when I went to get Fia from school. I walk in and guess what’s playing? Puff the f–king Magic Dragon. Seriously? That is arguably the saddest song on the planet. I almost crawled into a ball in the middle of Fia’s circle time. Yes honey, your mama is a whack job.
Thanks for letting me vent. Now that I am posting this one, I feel like I have at least accomplished something today. In other words, for these few minutes, I put my head back on and hopped off the damn treadmill. Lord help me.
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blog, juggling, nanny, park, preschool, sahm, scattered, school, time, toddler, working mom, writing | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Mom Situations
Friday, June 17th, 2011
Okay, what the f–k is the deal with Elmo?
I’ve put on television before. Besides our mutual love of Lee Goldberg, she really has shown no interest in it. But then, a few weeks ago, I decided to put on Sesame Street. Within seconds I had a full-fledged addict on my hands. I used to have to drag her outside to get away from Wayne Sanchez. She became obsessed with his tail and he in turn, became obsessed with using his claws….on her. Now I have to leave because of that furry red thing. She’ll stand there pointing, begging for me to turn on the TV. She’ll whine, then wail, then flop on the floor kicking. I try to distract her with books, toys, even Wayne. Nothing works. Not only that, but now every word in her vocabulary is replaced with that annoying four letter one. She just learned “elbow.” I kept hoping she was just practicing that. But who points to a turned off TV, shrieks and flails because of a body part?
Now if this were a character created by Disney, I would absolutely insist there is some sort of creepy conspiracy. However, it’s PBS. Nevertheless, there are surely conspiracy theorists out there who think Elmo is programmed deep inside the US government to make our children, well, I don’t know. Something. Because this addiction is just downright weird.
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addiction, addiction to television. toddler addiction, baby, Big Bird, characters, conspiracy, Disney, eat, eating, Elmo, Intervention, Lee Goldberg, New York Times, Sesame Street, Sesame Street characters, television, time, toddler, tv, tv addiction | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Must Read