After overcoming a decade of depression, infertility, and obesity - I've found life.
And after losing over 50 lbs and then gaining it all back during a miraculous pregnancy... I'm finding the inner sday.
These are my findings.
My poor children. I must be the meanest mom on the block. I despise these shopping carts. As if I don't already have a wide enough load of people, car seats and stuff to haul around the store... like I need a limousine length shopping cart with perfect access windows for my children to rip everything off the shelves at eye level. Seriously. Who's ridiculous idea was this to invent a shopping cart that makes shopping an even more stressful event in a mothers life :)
Am I so mean - when Layla asks if she can ride in one, I tell her they only let you ride in them when it's your birthday. On her birthday, we picked her cake up at Harm0ns and yes, I let her ride in one. But I gave her lots of reminders that it's only on your birthday. So now when we approach a store with the dreaded car carts... my poor daughter says, "Oh, they have those birthday shopping carts. Can I ride in one again on my birthday?"
Am I so rude or what? Sorry kids. I love you - I'll make it up to you someday.
Tuesday was good to me. Actually this whole week has been on the ups, but Tuesday was especially insightful.
The day started off pretty rough. I was actually looking foreword to following my workout plan. It was 6:15 am, my walking shoes on, dog leash in hand and T-minus .5 seconds from walking out the door and Layla's door opens and she wanders downstairs. "Where you going mom?" Then a tantrum ensued because she couldn't go with me and I begged her to go back to bed. Of course her blood curdling screams awoke the entire household and there you have it - my attempt at exercise was once again sabotaged. Layla learned a hard lesson that if she gets out of bed and starts her day screaming... chores will fill her spare time until we can regain control over her now awake brothers. She put a load of laundry in and helped me fold a basket of dry clothes. Then we reviewed the get out of bed rules: 1. if you need to potty - go do it and get back in bed quietly. 2. you're welcome to get out of bed when the upside down letter L is on your clock and when you're happy. (7am)... and we continued on our day.
I had all the kids dressed, fed and the house cleaned by 9:30 am and that felt amazing. The boys napped and Layla helped me prepare all the ingredients needed for our dinner. She loves to don her apron and work as my assistant chef. As I was working on putting together my grocery list for later in the day - Layla came up from the play room holding a broken table leg. Instead of ranting and raving about how climbing on tables is not ok... I tried with all my might to implement the Love and L0gic techniques I've been trying to learn. I simply said, "Uh Oh, that's so sad. How are you going to fix that problem?" She didn't know so I made the suggestion that she probably needed to pay for the tools to fix it. She agreed, so we went upstairs and emptied her piggy bank onto her bed. She decided that 1/2 of all her money was enough to pay for the new table leg and I agreed. We gathered her coins into a bag and she happily handed it over to pay for some wood glue and screws. Done. Lesson learned and no screaming or crying required. I doubt she'll be climbing on any tables again soon. It was an awesome motherhood moment.
My mom came over and watched the boys while I took my Buca Bird on a little date to the grocery store. I certainly forgot how fun it is to hang out with her individually and she is such a gem. A sweet little helper that likes to have fun and soaked up the attention she so readily deserves. We shopped and tickled and sang songs and ate chocolate. I just love her so much.
Home, groceries away and we ALL took a nap. Yes, I took a nap with the Ohwee on my bed and it was a slice of heaven. He is my snugga bug and I hope he stays my little man forever. We all awoke and decided to play in the basement. The kids played happily in the playroom, I had Pand0ra Toddler Station blaring and I folded laundry. It was one of the happiest moments I've had with these three kids.
Then thanks to my morning dinner prep with Layla - dinner was done in a breeze.
Kids bathed, jammied and we played in the boys room until their eyes grew heavy. And I watched my three beautiful children crawl around each other and giggle and laugh. My life is oh so good.
The key to my successful day was planning ahead, staying calm, and most of all LIVING IN THE MOMENT. BREATHING IN THE NOW. It makes such a difference when I just slowed down enough to enjoy the moment. Even the times when things weren't running smoothly. I really thought about the speed at which these kids lives are flashing by - this is a really hard stage but it's going to be over so so soon. Another year and Rider will be 2 and owen will be 1 1/2. I MUST SLOW DOWN AND ENJOY THESE BABY BOYS WHILE THEY ARE STILL BABIES. I feel like I missed the last year of Layla's life. She turned 2, all chaos began and before I knew it 3 hit me across the face. I don't want to miss anymore time. So I think we'll try to make more days like Tuesday. And life will be good.
It's kinda like the ten second rule with food... but not really.
I've come to the realization that for the most part our day runs pretty smoothly - thanks to a constantly tuned schedule. However, there's about 2-4 times a day when all hell breaks lose and I feel like the world in crumbling on top of me... and it seems to last for about 20 minutes. Twenty whole minutes of crying, whining, needy, meltdown chaos, and then we pull ourselves together and regain control of the situation. I've decided to label these moments as TMR time and just go with it when it happens. Pre-dinner table time and bed time seem to be the two most consistent TMR's of each day and depending on our outing of choice there's usually a TMR near the time we should pack up and head home. TMR's often include all three children needing to eat at the same time, the boys needing a diaper change and Layla needing a potty stop, and or everyone is tired and we need to get ready for naps. And more often than not: TMR= all three elements combusting at once.
When the twenty minutes of chaos begins, I usually just remind myself that it's only going to last a few short minutes and then we can reclaim control and move foreword. The best part is there's usually about 20 minutes of the calm before and after the storm... and I soooo look foreword to those calm moments.
While loitering at my mothers house and pawning my children off to her, so I could finally complete sewing a crib skirt for my almost eight month old.... she had a visitor. The Mrs. Caroline Taylor, mother of ten? kids, all born within a year apart of each other. Ya. Yikes stripes! I couldn't help but put my feelers out for any advice from a fellow perfectionistic mother. Her response: "There tricks you know!?"
Whhhaaahhht? Tricks?
Oh yes, this woman is brilliant and genius and I begged her for more tricks once she lured me in with the first two.
What's that? You want to know these super awesome tricks this woman speaks of? Get your pen and paper... these are good.
1. Dinner in the bathtub. You know those nights after you spend all day cleaning the house and mopping the goop of the kitchen floor and you REALLY don't feel like serving dinner only to find another mess of food and goop... again. Get the kids nakey, stick them in the tub, and serve pancakes, let them go ape wild with the mess and when they're done, wash rinse and done. GENIUS I tell you. I mean it's not like something I'd do every night. Besides, sloppy joes don't exactly wash down the drain... but we all have those nights when this idea would make life awesome.
2. Lunch on the dishwasher door. The answer to the "I do it!" stage of toddlerhood. When they insist on making their own sandwich or pouring their own drinks... open the door to the dishwasher and voila! You have a toddler height table that catches all spills and thrills and when they're done with their masterpiece PB&J - SHUT THE DOOR and the mess is gone!
Holy smokes! This woman should write a book. I begged her to email me more tips but I'm pretty sure she's too busy with her newborn grandchild and 5 of her kids moving over the past week. SO I'M ASKING YOU - WHAT ARE YOUR BEST TRICKS OF THE TRADE?
And Caroline- if you're reading this... you're amazing and I'm dying to hear more of your first rate mother of the year tricks.
I don't know if it is my natural maternalistic compulsion or some fabricated notion that my infertility devised... PERFECTION. Maybe it happened the moment my OBGYN said "You have PCOS and it's most likely going to be very difficult to conceive," that I felt a urning pull toward motherhood and the desire to make my motherhood experience perfect. Twenty four seven I expected perfection. Or maybe it happened the very moment when baby Layla was placed in my arms and the sense of feeling like I had to somehow be a better mother to this spirit than her birth mom would have been. Who knows? I can't really trace the notion back to it's original millisecond of conception... I just know it has been on the foreground of my daily routine over the past three years that I've been in the matriarch role. The need for the perfectly organized diaper bag, the immaculate interior of my car, the always dressed and hair done children, the ever prepared woman with a back up outfit and enough diapers to outlast any mishap, the spotless carseat, the unmistakably labeled formula canister... I had the inner most desire for it to always be perfect. I never thought I'd be legitimate enough to actually belong in the baby isle let alone own half of the items stocking it. So why wouldn't I want it all to be perfect?
Because once upon a time, it was only a fantasy.
Last Wednesday at approximately 10:30 am - I let a BIG piece of my perfectionism go. Not all of it, but a BIG piece. I was at the park with all three children, meeting with the mothers involved in Layla's Joy School to plan the curriculum. I had set a blanket out on the grass with a plethora of various toys and goodies to keep Rider entertained for a month. I fully expected my walking mischievous male toddler to stay on the blanket... Layla always did. A few moments later I turned to find my son sitting in the one and only puddle left from the earlier watering of the sprinklers. My heart leapt up into my throat and acute panic set into my body pumping full of maxed out blood pressure!!!! Ahhhh! What am I to do!!!??? There he sat, happy, intrigued, splashing and smiling. He even doused his favorite "rug" or soft blanky with the new found wetness he'd independently discovered. I slowed my racing thoughts of how to fix this, I concentrated on his joy, and I asked myself three simple questions:
"What's the worst that could happen?" (this doesn't usually work for a polarized thinker like myself)
"Is he safe?"
"Is he happy?"
And at that instant - I was able to recognize the moment I stepped away from the surface of motherhood and stepped deeper into my real job as a mother. So what!? So he has to ride home in the car in just a diaper?! So I have to wash his rug when I get home! SO FREAKING WHAT. Wow, that felt SO GREAT TO LET GO!!!! It's like the Earth shook and I rattled around like marble in a maze and I couldn't believe how good it felt to let go of the perfection. My findings became so obvious to me: I'm not a mother so my kids life will be perfect and in control at every moment. I AM a mother so that I can guide them, allow life experience while maintaining safety, love my children and let them have joy. Sometimes joy comes from messiness. Sometimes fun comes from unpreparedness. Sometimes joy comes from organization and planning. I'm learning to let my children experience a little more of the joy that comes from the messiness - and I think they're loving every minute of it so far.
I'm in a place physically that I swore I'd never allow my body to return, and now I've not only returned to an obese body, I've maxed out. When I lost weight the first time and found the sday I knew resided deep within, I swore I'd never let the number on the scale start with a 2 again. Now it does and I'm in a bad, bad physical state. My feet ache as if the bones are breaking with every step the weight bending and pushing the bones to their limits. I can't move quickly in the way necessary as a mother of three. I'm tired and lethargic all the time and even worse, I'm frustrated and discouraged. I worked SO HARD to get me weight in control and I found a lifestyle I loved with running and triathlons. I feel so very far away from that person I found 3 years ago. Where did she go? I'm left with only photo's and memories of the good time and the happy place I was in.
What is the first step to digging deep and finding that life again? I don't know. I've debated for months and months at how to take the first step away from the body I'm trapped in currently. Then I realized it doesn't need to be some "big move" or grandiose change in lifestyle. I also came to the conclusion that this journey will not be the same as my last, so I need to stop trying to make it the same. Change comes in tiny choices. One little choice at time. I don't have the mental, physical or emotional capeability of chaning my entire life over night. Although, I kept telling myself that's what I needed to do... I realize now it's not.
One choice at a time. One step at a time. One walk turns into one jog turns to one run... train... race... ride... swim... tri... ect. I can't change things over night. As much as I've laid in bed and begged God to just let it happen overnight and bless me with my old body and old strength against the power of food, good things don't come overnight. Hard work is what will get me there. And if there's anything I know about myself - it's that I CAN DO HARD THINGS.
So can this chick. She's hardcore and she's my new coach. She races professionally as a mountain biker on Kday's KUHL cycling team. She's accomplished a lot of things and recently was a Xterra World Champ competitor in Hawaii. She does hard things like THIS and she's helping me take one small step at a time and one choice at a time.
Today was a 45 min fast pace walk and 20 squats. It sounds simple compared to the 1/2 marathon I ran last year before I found out I was pregnant. But in the situation I've put myself in, it's equally hard. Sad I know. But what's done is done and there's nowhere to go but foreword. I'm sure to find new things about sday along this new journey, stay tuned and I'll keep you posted.
Thanks for your support. It makes each step feel a little less scary.
