the cost of freedom

The cost of freedom is breaking my heart today. I have cried for the
past couple of hours. These tears surprise me. If you had told me
yesterday at this time that I would have cried all morning I would
have laughed at you. Yesterday I was ready to ship off my three
children for more than just a week in Florida. Today the house is
eerily quiet and I miss them greatly.

Up until today I was as excited about a week off from being a mother
as they were to get away from me. I gloated about not eating healthy
all week and not cooking at all. Not having to make three different
breakfasts at different times. I sang the praises of my husband who
was going to travel alone with them through the metro Detroit airport
and take them to Florida all by himself. Of course he can do it, I
assured others, he's their father. This is the man I gave a list to
about how to put in hair pretties, and how to have our son brush his
teeth extra long because he might have a cavity, make sure to
sunscreen them up, oh and did I tell you I space bagged the swim
diapers and pull ups? It worked wonderfully.

I know he can do it but I have always been there. I am the one that is
the organizer. I am the one who makes sure the beach bag is packed
with everyone's needs. I am the one who makes sure everyone meets a
new friend to play with. I am the one who talks to the other parents
at the pool. I am the worrier. He is the play partner at the pool. He
goes with the flow. He will be fine.

And yet thousands of miles away I worry. Do they have enough
sunscreen, have they checked in, are they having fun, are they hungry,
tired, bored? Do they miss me?

These sweet wonderful children of mine who bugged me yesterday for
everything under the sun. Who were unhappy with their situations, one
went to a birthday party, one did not, no one wanted to go to library
with me, one got fast food for lunch, one did not, each got to play
with friends but not for long enough, it's never long enough, one did
not nap all day and continuously threw temper tantrums. By the end of
the day I was considering a bottle of wine. One for myself, no
sharing. However, with an early morning wake up call to get the troops
to the airport I declined.

So now I sit in my too quiet home and think about all the odd and ends
I really need to get done now that there is no one underfoot but all I
can manage to do is cry. It is never easy to be the one left behind.

I know that my family will have a great trip and that I too will get a
lot out of being alone, despite having jury duty one day this week. I
will get all my things done, read some trashy novels and enjoy
unhealthy eating. But today I am sad. Today I will indulge myself
these tears. They are love after all. And love always come with a price.

surgery

What I have discovered is that if you want to write or mother or in
general stay quite active then don't have foot surgery midweek. I
recently had to have some surgery done on my big toe that resulted in
a complete avulsion. (That's losing the toenail in medical speak.) I
mistakenly thought I would be up and at 'em within 24 hours. That was
the biggest joke of the year.

It is now a week past the surgery and I am still using ice packs for
swelling, tylenol for pain (I can't handle the hard stuff), and
propping it up to keep it from throbbing. I am wearing a protective
boot that makes me feel a bit like Frankenstein while walking and it
is still all wrapped up in bandages. The good news is that the
stitches come out next week.

As a busy mom of three I had planned several evening meals for my
husband to prepare following the surgery. I had no idea that this far
out I would not be cleaning the house yet, not grocery shopping and
not have a handicap sticker, which I desperately need. The thought of
even having to walk from the back of any parking lot makes me shudder.
I even used one of those little carts at Target recently. But I felt
like a fool when I had to back up. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. It seemed
to mock me like "dumb mom dumb mom." I was so embarrassed I cried that
evening.

I cried because I felt so helpless. I couldn't mother my children. I
couldn't fix them a meal or help them get band aids or go to the
bathroom. I can't keep up with my two year old period. I have been
stepped on my everyone including the dog. I have cried from pain and
frustration. I just didn't expect it to be this hard.

One thing it has made me realize. I maybe baby my children a little
too much. The things I have asked them to be able to do for themselves
this week have not been out of line. Yet, they look at me like I've
grown a third head. These are things I have always done for them. Like
make their lunches. Is it really that hard for them to slap some lunch
meat between two slices of bread? It is for me. It requires me to
stand and walk which right now is the enemy.

I believe this surgery happened for a reason bigger than the health of
my foot. I believe it happened to teach me a lesson. One in patience
with myself and my children. It is teaching my children that they can
be a little more independent and responsible for themselves. It is
also teaching me that perfection is not necessary. It is okay for my
children to wear unmatched socks to school. It is teaching my husband
the amount of work that really does get done in the house on a daily
basis. But the biggest lesson I am learning from this surgery is that
you can't always be prepared and to expect the unexpected. Through the
trials and hardships that this surgery has caused it has brought about
some good things as well. My son has stepped up to take care of his
siblings, my two year old wants to kiss my toe to make it feel better,
my other daughter is starting to do more things for herself and rely
on me less. These are growing times. It is not maybe how I would have
envisioned these changes to take place but nevertheless we will all
come out of this better than we started.

Our Trixie

Yesterday my dog was barking while I was trying to write. It was
distracting and somewhat irritating. But just like any other child in
my house I realize that the reason she was barking was similar to the
reasons my children but me when I am writing; they are bored. So I
decided to stop what I was writing and write this instead. If you are
a dog lover I hope you will enjoy it!

Bark Bark Bark
Whine
Bark Bark Bark

Please come back
Whine
Play with me

Said to the dogs out walking our neighbors.

BARK BARK
GRRRRRR
BARK BARK BARK BARK

MAILMAN
GRRRRRR
GET OFF THE PORCH

Like any other dog I know mine HATES the mailman. I am sure it's
because he smokes while delivering the mail, which I detest, and then
drops his butts in our yard. I am sure my pup has picked up on my
disgust.

Bark
Snap Snap Snap
Spin Twist Jump Snap
Bark Bark

Please
Pop Pop Pop
Spin Twist Jump Pop
More Bubbles

Our dog loves when you blow bubbles for her. She looks just like a
circus dog doing actual flips in the air to get to them. The
neighborhood kids all love our 'tricky' dog.

Bark Bark Bark Bark Bark Bark Bark
pant pant pant
BARK BARK

Frisbee Frisbee Frisbee Throw The Frisbee
pant pant pant
PLEASE PLEASE

My dog would keel over dead before she ever ended a game of Frisbee.
It is her reason to exist, she is sure of it.

Trixie says things all day long. Some with barks and guttural noises
others are by the way she stares at me with her soft brown eyes. She
is so loving and wise and gentle with my children. I love her so very
much and am so happy she chose us.

being an empath

I am an empath. If you are not familiar with the term it basically
means that I am sensitive to other's emotions. So much so that I will
"put them on" and "wear them" as my own. I often find that I am angry
or sad and that they are not my emotions and do not accurately reflect
how I am feeling. To counter this I have to center myself. I usually
use imagery of building a stone tower around myself with windows to
allow the sun in and a creek running through it. I realize this
doesn't make sense but water calms me so I include it and honestly
it's my protection so who cares?

I tend to avoid crowds because the collective emotion they put out can
make my skin itch. I honestly get so crabby that it is almost not
worth it. I discovered that I was an empath by accident. I always knew
I hated crowds and often found myself avoiding them. I knew for
instance by high school that I hated the mall at Christmastime because
shopping was never fun with all the people. I would feel nervous and
like something wasn't right.

As a parent crowds terrify me. I pick up on a bevy of emotions and am
uncomfortable and cranky and I have to watch that my three children
are safe. I not only pick up on all of the resonating emotions but I
am sure I am sending out my own terrifying feelings of losing my
children. Crowds make me wish I only had one child. Three children in
crowds makes this mom go around the bend with concern. I simply become
overdone with emotion about losing them as they dart between people.

Today in an effort to support my husband and his FIRST robotics team
he mentors I took my children to watch the matches. By the end of two
hours there I was completely undone. I was griping to my husband to
help with the kids and sniping at the kids to stop and be quiet.
Really? You are supposed to make noise at these competitions. I was
unreasonable and uncomfortable.

After my husband's team had their last turn of the morning we decided
to depart. It was amazing just walking out of the building I
immediately began to calm down. By the time we had driven about ten
minutes I realized that I was much more calm and was able to see how
unreasonable I had been for the past hour. I felt like a fool. I often
feel like a fool when this happens.

I realized today that centering is extremely difficult for me to do
with my children. It is incredibly hard for me to stay centered and
focused on my calming techniques when I am so concerned with the well
being and security of my children. This will be my next challenge. How
I can learn to do this so that I don't embarrass my family and myself
with my behavior.

side note: airports, amusement parks, malls and apparently a large gym
filled with people are my undoing when my children are with me. By
myself I manage to maintain a calm and serene disposition but it
requires concentration.

Why extracurricular activities and children don't mix

I have found that as a parent you are expected to, if not required to,
attend your children's extracurricular activities. You sit on the
sidelines or the fringes of an activity sharing conversation quietly
with the parents around you. Sometimes you jump up and cheer wildly.
But I have never just walked into the middle of the activity. Who
would do that? My children.

As I was rehearsing a dance number for the next upcoming musical I am
in, all three of my children independent of each other, walked through
other dancers, running into some, to get to me. To ask me a question
or to complain. "I was in the middle of dancing!" I think to myself.
"What could be so important that you had to walk on stage amongst 30
other people during a dance number?"

Well one of them came to tell me they had to go to the bathroom. Okay.
That was good for safety's sake and I can see the bathrooms so okay he
got to go without me. One came to show me the picture she was drawing.
Not as okay. "Could you wait until we are done with the song, honey?"
I asked. And the toddler came over to tell me she also had to go
potty. Okay. And off stage I went with her. Of the hour I was supposed
to rehearse dancing I maybe danced half of it. The other half I
avoided the pointed stares of my choreographer who was not pleased.

Now normally I wouldn't have taken them with me but my husband is a
teacher and he had parent teacher conferences. And an unfortunate
chain of circumstances has happened causing me to have to undergo foot
surgery next week. I really need all the practices I can get dance
wise since for the next three weeks I will be in a specialized boot.
(note my enthusiasm!)

What I learned is that it is difficult to be on the sidelines. It is
difficult if you are the parent waiting to see if your child catches
the football and makes a play, or hits a home run, or scores a goal.
It can be difficult to watch your child play in their first music
recital praying they aren't too nervous or that they don't forget the
notes. It is just difficult having to just watch. It is difficult for
me and it was difficult for my children. In the end I grabbed the
toddler and danced several numbers with her in my arms. She loved it
and my choreographer commented with a smile "nice partner!"

haircuts

I recently got my haircut. I chopped about six or seven inches off. It
was a big deal for my two year old. She is still talking about it. She
likes to say things like "I need go get my haircut!" The same weekend
as my new 'do I also got my older two children's hair cut. I think my
two year old felt a little left out.

We sat talking about it at the dinner table the other evening. She was
playing with her baby and we were pointing out all the body parts.
When we got to her head I asked my two year old if the baby had hair.
"No her don't." she replied. Which was accurate. She is a newborn baby
doll and is bald as can be. I then began to ask her about all the
people in our family.

"Does Mommy have hair?" I asked.

"Yes, her does have hair." She replied.

"Does Teagan have hair?" I asked.

"Teagan have hair, Nick Nick have hair!" She replied.

Then she went one further and added "Trixie", our dog, "have hair!"

"Does Daddy have hair?" I concluded.

"No."

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. Of course this made it
delightfully funny to her as well and she grinned from ear to ear. Now
this is particularly funny because my husband has been getting more
sparse each year. That my littlest recognized his hair loss was so
funny and so sad all at the same time.

Sorry honey, but it was just too funny not to share! I love you with
or without hair!

bedtime blues

I'm thirsty.
Where's my puppy?
I need a story.
I need to go potty.
These are some of the various phrases I hear after I have tucked my
daughter in.

I sigh, leave my computer, walk down the hall, and tuck her back in
with the current need. I should probably not feel resentment but I do.
These are the days I live for 'night-night' time. It disturbs me
greatly when I feel relief and possibly even joy at the fact that I
have tucked the little darlings in for the night. So when they escape
I sigh and feel as though my time is being cut into. I've just sat
down, I think to myself. What else can they possibly need? Why won't
they go to sleep? Then I feel guilt. They are only children after all.
They can't understand that I give myself ten times over to them during
the day and that in the evening I want to reclaim myself, the writer,
the woman, the lover, the wife. I often find that after long
exhausting days I am unable to reconcile myself to the fact that I am
any of those other women.

Some days I find that I regret my decision to have children. No, I
don't really regret them. I just say that when I am feeling ragged. I
love them more than life itself. But even life is trying at times.

Why is it that I find myself responsible for every emotion they feel
during the day? If they are happy, I am happy, if they are sad, I am
sad and I try to fix it. If they are angry, there is a good chance it
is because I am angry. It is a game of emotional calisthenics.

I find myself wondering when we will grow out of the tantrums; mine
and theirs. Do other mothers find themselves thinking these thoughts I
wonder. Am I alone on an island of chaos? Am I the only one feeling
anger, regret, and exhaustion?

I know in my heart that in the next hour silence will envelop our
household and I will feel my shoulders descend from my earlobes as I
let go of the stress I have carried all day. I will turn off lights,
put away books, tuck in errant limbs and thank God for the wonderful
gifts I have been blessed with.