When you first become a Momma, doctor's offices are excited for you and your bundle to come in. You feel important, they usher you in quickly to get the baby out of the waiting room with all of the sickies. They get you in and out because they know it must be hard to be out and about with an infant. As your baby grows, the oohs and aahs seem to multiply and everywhere you go, people are giving you knowing smiles and tons of compliments.
At some point, right around the 3 year mark, that all changes and there is a noticable shift in attitude towards you and your child. No longer are the "Can I have a cookie (or a balloon or whatever grabs her eye)" requests, "Adorable!", now people glare at the mother who is not raising her child with manners or a knowledge of good public graces.
Now when we go to the doctor's office, it's as if they are intent on making every visit as long, excrutiating, embarassing and frustrating as possible. We wait in the waiting room, (while my child morphs into every animal on the planet, leaping off chairs, crawling under tables), we wait in the exam room, (while she pulls all of the paper off of the rolls and "decorates"), we wait in the hallway (while the nurse searches every nook, cranny and drawer for a piece of candy that my child refuses to leave without).
When she was small, I would take her into the store and talk to her about what I was making for dinner and what I saw in the store, there was always a running narrative wherever we went: while I was driving, shopping, crocheting or just strolling her at the park. Now my days are filled with," Young lady, I am counting to 3.", "Get down from there." "Stop climbing on that." "We're leaving because you are not listening".
The delight of a baby that I nursed and cradled, that hardly ever cried and that was always happy has morphed into this tornado of frenetic activity that bounces off of walls, jumps on and off of my couch, hits when she is angry and performs in public.
Performs in public?, you ask. Why yes, yes she does. She creates dances and songs in the middle of a busy Publix aisle at the drop of hat and then performs for all to see and hear. And, in case she is not getting the attention that she wants, she will yell, "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!!! IT'S THE Supergirl SHOW!!!!"
So what should a tired momma do? I keep praying that it is a phase that she will grow out of, but when she grows out of this - What will she grow into?
I will let you know, dear reader.
XOXO,
One Scared Momma
Monday, January 17, 2011
Monday, August 9, 2010
Why This Momma Needs a Serger
I use a Singer Sewing Machine. It has made plenty of crafty things and has been with me through the rough times (when I couldn't sew a straight-line to save my life, when the gears got so gunked up that my needle wouldn't go down AT ALL, when baby girl decided that my'chine needed a bit of gum) and we have persevered.
As I have grown in my sewing skills, I have been told by one Sewing Mama after another that I MUST get a serger. I have resisted - because we are quite literally broke, because I work two jobs and because I only get about 15 hours of actual crafty time in during the week. But, now, after two weekends in a row of mass producing the amazing (two skirts, a summer dress, a pillow, a tutu and completing several of my UFOs), I know that I NEED a serger.
I need a serger because it will help me get over the plateau of things just being a little two easy, I need a serger because if another of baby girl's teachers asks me if her outfits are homemade (pretty stinking obvious, you take her potty like 6 times a day) we may get to physical violence, but really I need a serger because it would be something that I will never do for myself.
A serger is a luxury that I would never allow myself, a way to further express myself that I will never indulge in, in my world, a serger is the equivalent to the honeymoon I never went on, the new clothes that I never splurge on (though I am learning to make my own), the Christmas presents that I never tell hubby I want (because I know that it would blow our budget), the flute I pawned to pay off my husband's car. It is silly and frivolous, but that does not stop me from going by and visiting them, repeatedly scouring Craigslist for the one little old lady that has no one to pass it on to and is searching for me, from asking the ladies at Joanne's if they are certain that the floor model isn't just a little dated...
I would love a serger, I would really love a new serger, but I will never let myself buy one. I reckon that I am not above begging.
Oh, and in case I couldn't convince you - here's the kid:
As I have grown in my sewing skills, I have been told by one Sewing Mama after another that I MUST get a serger. I have resisted - because we are quite literally broke, because I work two jobs and because I only get about 15 hours of actual crafty time in during the week. But, now, after two weekends in a row of mass producing the amazing (two skirts, a summer dress, a pillow, a tutu and completing several of my UFOs), I know that I NEED a serger.
I need a serger because it will help me get over the plateau of things just being a little two easy, I need a serger because if another of baby girl's teachers asks me if her outfits are homemade (pretty stinking obvious, you take her potty like 6 times a day) we may get to physical violence, but really I need a serger because it would be something that I will never do for myself.
A serger is a luxury that I would never allow myself, a way to further express myself that I will never indulge in, in my world, a serger is the equivalent to the honeymoon I never went on, the new clothes that I never splurge on (though I am learning to make my own), the Christmas presents that I never tell hubby I want (because I know that it would blow our budget), the flute I pawned to pay off my husband's car. It is silly and frivolous, but that does not stop me from going by and visiting them, repeatedly scouring Craigslist for the one little old lady that has no one to pass it on to and is searching for me, from asking the ladies at Joanne's if they are certain that the floor model isn't just a little dated...
I would love a serger, I would really love a new serger, but I will never let myself buy one. I reckon that I am not above begging.
Oh, and in case I couldn't convince you - here's the kid:
Saturday, July 10, 2010
It's Been Forever...
It's been forever since I have posted anything at all to the site. Part of that is because I am now working a million hours a week, my house looks like three tornadoes have plowed through it and my "big girl" occupies every minute that I have when I home.
I am exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally drained. I feel like Supergirl's ice cream that she blends to the point of being a pasty slightly brown milk and cream soup, looking like nothing resembling the icy goodness that it once was. I feel like I have been whipped over and over and now that all remains is a soupy, drippy, sticky mess.
In the absence, we have accomplished little, but done much.
1. I started working at Supergirl's daycare. Mainly to cover the costs for her care but also because I love children and since I knew that I would need a part-time job with the way that our finances have been steadily heading, it seemed to be a better idea to do something that I would enjoy rather than do something that would not be rewarding in anyway.
2. We took a family vacation. For the first time since becoming a family of three, we struck out to visit my mother and brothers and sister and the great state of Texas.
It was magical how the stresses of our daily lives just melted away mile by mile of that interstate highway. I felt lighter, happier, FREER. I knew that it couldn't last and as soon as we turned the car around and began the drive back, it all started piling back, accumulating until it was almost intolerable to be sitting in that car anymore. I wanted to pull over at a rest stop, anywhere and just run. Run as fast as my legs would carry me away from all of the responsibilities, anger, hurt, disappointments and resentment.
I hoped, prayed even, that we would get home and the house would just be gone, fire, tornado, whatever it didn't matter, I just wanted to walk away. I need to get out of this town. Away from the ghosts, the burdens, the stresses of being the me that I have always been in this town.
I realize now that it is not the house that is causing the problem (although it is the physical manifestation of all that is wrong with us, this union. I can't blame the kid, it is no messier now than it was when we got her.) Where I spend my every waking moment cleaning, scrubbing, and washing, my husband spends out of the house, away from everything. He does not care about our home, it is not a priority for him. So while I worry and fret and race to beat the mess that is consuming us, he just ignores the needs that are in front of his eyes. That is why I am in the yard at 6:15 on a Sunday morning mowing, because my husband doesn't realize that it needs to be done, even when it is even with the porch and our girl gets poked in the ears by blades of grass when going in the house.
That is why at 4:45 in the morning, before our child awakes, before there are other people's needs to be met, I am folding clothes and putting them away. And since I work two jobs now, clothes, laundry, house cleaning seems to be a quarterly event when I actually get a real break from work and work.
It's during these days "off" that I beg the husband to please, please, please take the child and yourself to your parents house, I so desperately need to get this done, I really cannot work on this and that and this if I have a two year old under my feet and a 31 year old asleep on my couch. I need space, I need to be able to breathe, I need to be able to do this my own way without you and her in the way. I need to be able to move the furniture that you are lounging on. If you are not here, I will not hear YOUR words that you would help and that you would do X, Y, and Z ringing in my head over and over on repeat while I look at you still snoring well after 1 in the afternoon, while the kid begs and pleads for a popsicle or a juice box or another F'ing pickle.
But then the guilt sets in and I know that this is the time, the time that I should be spending with the kid because I only get an hour each day normally and this is the time that I have prayed for and I want to waste it cleaning the house and doing laundry instead of spending time with them. And it's not his fault that he does not notice that these things need to be done, not his fault at all since that has ALWAYS been my job, and I have never asked him to do any of those things (although my hints are pretty outstanding).
So like I said, we have not accomplished much...
3. Supergirl turned 2 and a half and the Hubs turned 31. I picked her up (a rare treat these days) for her 2 and a half birthday and then we baked cupcakes. She sang happy birthday to herself and even got a few candles on her cupcake. We had her favorite (tuna noodle casserole) for dinner and I let her stay up a little later than normal as a special treat.
The Hubs turned 31 in style the day before the 4th of July. He asked for a crown and amazingly something resembling a crown came spewing out of the sewing machine the day before his birthday. Complete with a velcro band so big girl could wear it if she chooses. We went to the 4th of July parade and then to a BBQ and Blues festival. Later, we went down to the 4th of July Carnival and Concert to watch some of our favorite local bands perform and then watch the fireworks over the river.
Favorite quote of the night: While the fireworks were going off, big girl leans over and shushes the people sitting next to us. "No talking during my daddy's fireworks!"
4. Went to a family Hoe Down with our church and learned to Square Dance, even though I use to be terrified of being embarassed in public (especially while dancing), I got up there and did it. And it was lots of fun, just being silly with my family, everyone thought Supergirl and Blade dancing was so funny and cute (and while there were photographers, I have yet to find photo of the two of the two stepping).
5. Supergirl has been to two parades and gets so excited at the prospect of seeing clowns that she can't sit still. She may be a professional clown when she gets older. Good thing she is not sensitive to the makeup!
6. Supergirl can snap her fingers. Really. Most kids can't do that at four and she is doing it with ease at 2. She is amazing.
Finally, I have come to the conclusion that if we as a family do not do things to overcome all of our issues, no amount of moving or complaining is gonna fix the problem. I think I might start the Love Dare this week. It's not gonna make things any wose than they have been...
I am exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally drained. I feel like Supergirl's ice cream that she blends to the point of being a pasty slightly brown milk and cream soup, looking like nothing resembling the icy goodness that it once was. I feel like I have been whipped over and over and now that all remains is a soupy, drippy, sticky mess.
In the absence, we have accomplished little, but done much.
1. I started working at Supergirl's daycare. Mainly to cover the costs for her care but also because I love children and since I knew that I would need a part-time job with the way that our finances have been steadily heading, it seemed to be a better idea to do something that I would enjoy rather than do something that would not be rewarding in anyway.
2. We took a family vacation. For the first time since becoming a family of three, we struck out to visit my mother and brothers and sister and the great state of Texas.
It was magical how the stresses of our daily lives just melted away mile by mile of that interstate highway. I felt lighter, happier, FREER. I knew that it couldn't last and as soon as we turned the car around and began the drive back, it all started piling back, accumulating until it was almost intolerable to be sitting in that car anymore. I wanted to pull over at a rest stop, anywhere and just run. Run as fast as my legs would carry me away from all of the responsibilities, anger, hurt, disappointments and resentment.
I hoped, prayed even, that we would get home and the house would just be gone, fire, tornado, whatever it didn't matter, I just wanted to walk away. I need to get out of this town. Away from the ghosts, the burdens, the stresses of being the me that I have always been in this town.
I realize now that it is not the house that is causing the problem (although it is the physical manifestation of all that is wrong with us, this union. I can't blame the kid, it is no messier now than it was when we got her.) Where I spend my every waking moment cleaning, scrubbing, and washing, my husband spends out of the house, away from everything. He does not care about our home, it is not a priority for him. So while I worry and fret and race to beat the mess that is consuming us, he just ignores the needs that are in front of his eyes. That is why I am in the yard at 6:15 on a Sunday morning mowing, because my husband doesn't realize that it needs to be done, even when it is even with the porch and our girl gets poked in the ears by blades of grass when going in the house.
That is why at 4:45 in the morning, before our child awakes, before there are other people's needs to be met, I am folding clothes and putting them away. And since I work two jobs now, clothes, laundry, house cleaning seems to be a quarterly event when I actually get a real break from work and work.
It's during these days "off" that I beg the husband to please, please, please take the child and yourself to your parents house, I so desperately need to get this done, I really cannot work on this and that and this if I have a two year old under my feet and a 31 year old asleep on my couch. I need space, I need to be able to breathe, I need to be able to do this my own way without you and her in the way. I need to be able to move the furniture that you are lounging on. If you are not here, I will not hear YOUR words that you would help and that you would do X, Y, and Z ringing in my head over and over on repeat while I look at you still snoring well after 1 in the afternoon, while the kid begs and pleads for a popsicle or a juice box or another F'ing pickle.
But then the guilt sets in and I know that this is the time, the time that I should be spending with the kid because I only get an hour each day normally and this is the time that I have prayed for and I want to waste it cleaning the house and doing laundry instead of spending time with them. And it's not his fault that he does not notice that these things need to be done, not his fault at all since that has ALWAYS been my job, and I have never asked him to do any of those things (although my hints are pretty outstanding).
So like I said, we have not accomplished much...
3. Supergirl turned 2 and a half and the Hubs turned 31. I picked her up (a rare treat these days) for her 2 and a half birthday and then we baked cupcakes. She sang happy birthday to herself and even got a few candles on her cupcake. We had her favorite (tuna noodle casserole) for dinner and I let her stay up a little later than normal as a special treat.
The Hubs turned 31 in style the day before the 4th of July. He asked for a crown and amazingly something resembling a crown came spewing out of the sewing machine the day before his birthday. Complete with a velcro band so big girl could wear it if she chooses. We went to the 4th of July parade and then to a BBQ and Blues festival. Later, we went down to the 4th of July Carnival and Concert to watch some of our favorite local bands perform and then watch the fireworks over the river.
Favorite quote of the night: While the fireworks were going off, big girl leans over and shushes the people sitting next to us. "No talking during my daddy's fireworks!"
4. Went to a family Hoe Down with our church and learned to Square Dance, even though I use to be terrified of being embarassed in public (especially while dancing), I got up there and did it. And it was lots of fun, just being silly with my family, everyone thought Supergirl and Blade dancing was so funny and cute (and while there were photographers, I have yet to find photo of the two of the two stepping).
5. Supergirl has been to two parades and gets so excited at the prospect of seeing clowns that she can't sit still. She may be a professional clown when she gets older. Good thing she is not sensitive to the makeup!
6. Supergirl can snap her fingers. Really. Most kids can't do that at four and she is doing it with ease at 2. She is amazing.
Finally, I have come to the conclusion that if we as a family do not do things to overcome all of our issues, no amount of moving or complaining is gonna fix the problem. I think I might start the Love Dare this week. It's not gonna make things any wose than they have been...
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