Archive for the ‘Rough Day’ Category

I am in a funk. I try so hard to see the positive in my day, and half the time I do. There are moments when I’m so “in the moment” and loving my life that I feel like: this is what its all about! Sadly, those moments are far and few between. The other half of my time is spent fantasizing about how great it will be when my kids are older – like seven and nine.

Parenting a two (almost three) year old and a baby is the hardest responsibility I have ever taken on. Truth be told, I often feel inept no matter what intellectual knowledge I have in my head because I read “the right books.” But more than that, I feel so alone. Even though I have a great mental support group via phone with friends and through therapy, I don’t have “a village” to help me raise my children while Hal is at work. Well, I do if you count pre-school 6 hours/week and the Power Rangers for god knows how many hours/day. I’m trying to “make do” with and appreciate the limited respite and help that I do get, but I’m finding this very difficult. The help I get just isn’t enough or in the right places.

I read these other blogs where the moms write as if everything is so easy for them and quite frankly it depresses me. It down right angers me. I’m sure parts of their day are easy and fulfilling – that occurs for me, too. And it makes me happy to read about mothering in such a positive light, BUT… I need to know that what I’m going through isn’t because I suck as a mother, that other women with young children think its hard, too, and that I’m not alone in these struggles…

Whoa… I just took a phone call from an old friend who has two kids – ages 5 & 7 (or something close to that). I shared with her everything I’ve been feeling and she made me feel much better. I was so encouraged by her words that tears started gushing from the ol’ eyeballs. She described to me exactly what I am going through by talking about what she went through – and what she has seen many women go through. She made me feel normal again. She also reminded me that it is so important to get away from both the kids when-ever possible – “You’ll be a better mother for it.” She said this to me because I was feeling some guilt about sending Max to preschool. Him going to preschool has more to do with me needing to be away from him than for his benefit. Luckily, what’s good for mama is also good for Bossman.

My village may be via phone, but its better than none at all. I love my sister-friends so much.

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It has finally hit Camus that Oscar is gone. He is in a state of depression. Poor Camus.

Two nights ago, I had my first dream [ever] with Oscar in it. Usually, Camus is the one in my dreams. That morning when I got up, Camus was sleeping in the living room instead of in the bedroom with Hal and Max, where he normally sleeps. I think that is when the grief of Oscar’s death really hit him, two nights ago. I wonder if Camus can smell Oscar’s ashes that are currently sitting on one of our bookshelves by this computer? Hm. We need to bury Oscar.

Fixin’ stuff…

There is nothing I can’t stand more than when a carpenter uses his Christian faith as the reason I should trust him. Every handyman person we have had has done this and every one of them did poor quality work, unfinished work, or just plain took our money and did no work. Telling me you are Christian automatically disqualifies you from working in my home.

We are still looking for someone to fix our bathroom. I am not hiring anyone who doesn’t meet all of my very reasonable requirements:

  • Reasonably priced
  • Knowledgeable
  • Insured
  • Able to complete the work within a weeks time
  • Doesn’t tell me his faith and how that outlines his work ethics


sucketh. Yeah, one of those days, today was. You know, one of those days when reading on-line mama blogs makes me want to write to the author and tell them just how superficial I think their blog is. Or, grrrr, how I feel like some of the more popular blogs do a disservice to the day to day realities of parenting as a woman… a woman who sometimes feels isolated, unnoticed, bored, useless… and needs to know that other moms go through the same shit… and are also still relatively happy. Other moms like meeeeee, fooooor example.

Yeah, one of those days.

It’s a good thing I already know other moms have shitty days, too. But I can’t lie, misery loves company… it would be nice to read about those kinds of days on other blogs, too.

I realized after reading this… that I have complained without any detail as to how my day was and what made it sucketh… and you know… I just don’t have the energy to get into details. This, I’m sure, is why many of moms who blog don’t always lay out their shitty days just for memory’s sake. I will say, however, that Max is so lucky that I love him and that he is cute as a button.

Yeah, one of those days.

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Yes, Max got his first spanking yesterday. I asked him where he put the toilet paper that he was using to clean out his nose and he looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I threw it in the toilet.”

“Good boy.” I proudly said.

Then I went into the bedroom, looked into the crib, and saw toilet paper draped over Bella’s face and going into her mouth.

I tanned his hide and made sure he understood why.

*I hate that I spanked Max and never want to do it again. Disciplining has been a huge struggle for me with him because of how strong willed we both are. I’m looking for better ways to deal with my own frustrations so that I can better guide him to “good” behavior.*


In the middle of the groaning and moaning about the realities of my life I always feel the need to stop and count the blessings that crop up or linger around. In no particular order:

My paternal grandmother made these two fantastic quilts for my kids:

The horse one was sent to Max after his birth and the other for Bella after she was born. I hate that I *think* that I’m not crafty enough to do art like this. I want to be. My mom and paternal grandmother are both very crafty – so I do have it in me. Maybe once my body isn’t in constant pain (mainly my hands) I’ll learn how to knit, sew, and quilt. Hey, I’m still young – I’ve got lots of time to learn.

I can’t wait to lay these new quilts out on my kid’s beds.

This next wonderful part of my life is what makes me feel like I can and will survive the next year… and that is my relationship with my husband. Even though we have both felt the stress of parenting while poor – we have manage to stay supportive of one another. We don’t fight, we talk. We make one another laugh. We don’t argue over petty things, we keep the disagreement focused on the “real” issue at hand. We don’t blame one another for our personal sufferings, we acknowledge each other’s feelings and perspectives. Okay, I admit it… I do blame him sometimes but he lets it go in one ear and out the other. He understands that I’m “venting.” And if I get out of line – I admit it. Anyway, I really like Hal as much as I love him – and that means a lot.

The third good in my life… I have a couple of friends that I can call any time. And they call me, too. We support and value each other. I feel lucky to have these women in my life when so many people have trouble connecting beyond superficial interaction.

Then, of-course, there is my kids… they are both happy (I have no idea how or why – but they are), healthy & full of life and love…

and that’s all she wrote.

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Soothing Hip Mamas

I’m putting these responses (RE: last entry) from a mama message board that I belong to over here in Mindful Mothering. I need these kinds of reminders:



Submitted by meg on Sun, 06/03/2007 – 8:49am.

It gets better. It sound hollow but it does.
And then it gets worse and then it gets better and then….
I found that sending Devon to preschool for a few hours a week gave us a break from each other in our intense affectionate/angry/physical (him climbing and kicking and punching and biting and me hugging and swatting and restraining) relationship. Could you somehow get a regular break from Max either with a friend kid trade type thing, a babysitter or a preschool? It really helped me…
I’m so sorry about Oscar.
“Speak a little softer and work a little louder. Shoot less with more care and sing a little sweeter and love a little longer and soon you will be there.”–Jane Siberry


Thesen are my EXACT feelings from about 1 year ago….

Submitted by ascedarleaf on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 11:01pm.

Fuck I wish I had known about you fanfuckintastic ladies about a year ago….

I felt and sometime still feel exactly this way! My boys are little more than a year apart; the second one unplanned. He didn’t sleep at night until this past february. I thought I was going to die, kill myself or my children. I felt like I was in the deepest darkest hole and my loved ones around me just wanted me to buck up and DEAL, their words not mine. Bird, as Erika says YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I think all mamas have some version of this story and if they don’t they are really fucking lucky, saintly or brain dead. No offense to all you blissed out mamas out there perhaps just some sour grapes….but I digress.

Bird, you are my personal shero today for speaking your truth. A wise friend said this to me during this time and I pass it on to you. I know you are a good mama because you care enough to care.

My love and admiration to you.


You are not alone. And I liked what-all newleaf wrote.

Submitted by 733t sewz0r on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 8:05pm.

I liked the honesty and directness of your post.

“Macaroni – let me finish! – salad.”


you are absoloutly normal

Submitted by Ericka on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 7:26pm.

you are absoloutly normal and EVERY mom feels AT LEAST this way. i have a friend that is just the most balanced, delightful, productive good time and he was a twin born a year after his mother had his older sister. He had a very good childhood. When he became an adult, his mother told him that she literaly went through a period where she HATED her children, and thought she made a big mistake and was miserable for a good long time. What can you say? Your taxed out and your life no longer belongs to yourself and no one tells you its going to be this way. Tell Bella when she gets to be about sixteen. When I was in the ER aboout three weeks ago, I had a dr. tell me to stop breastfeeding because it was causing contractions. and I havn’t. You want to know why? Because if I don’t, my 16 month old will scream and freak out and after about ten minutes I get an adrenylne rush so strong I feel like I could toss a Hummer across the street. The sound of my children freaking out and tantruming makes me so angry its scary, and that fear keeps me reluctantly breastfeeding my kid, hating every second of it. I don’t know what else to tell you other than try and get out of the house more, keep blogging, and keep telling yourself you’re not the only one. In our society its not a secret that dads get sick of their kids, need time away and do things half assed so they can get to do something they want to do. Be enlightend by letting yourself of the hook and not playing intgo societies facade. Hey, even rockstars and actresses complain right?



Submitted by KJ on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 6:55pm.

Bird, you just wrote my blog that I don’t have time to write becayse #2 is always crying and needing to be held. seriously, my exact blog. I wish we could just hug each other and cry for hours!


Been there, mama

Submitted by newleaf on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 5:43pm.

Please remember a couple of things:
1) your kids will become playmates for each other.
2) toddlers test the shit out of you, regardless.
3) all first-born kids get waaaaaay too much attention. 2nd born get used to waiting. It’s cool. If every person on the planet were a first-born kid, it would be hell.
4) You are a pro at being a mom, but you are learning to be a mom of two. That will come with time.
5) It’s okay to hate it. You don’t have to be an ever-nuturing door-mat to be a good mom.
6) Can the DH help?

{{{{{more vibes}}}}}}




Submitted by crockmama on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 7:24pm.

to #3



I can’t really complain

Submitted by peculiar old bird on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 6:19pm.

I can’t really complain about DH. When he is not working, he is home doing his share and then some. I’m stuck with the two kids for about nine hours a day 5-6 days a week. It takes some getting use too, I guess. Occasionally, my MIL will take Max – maybe once a week for a few hours. It’s not much but it is appreciated. Thank you for what you said, makes me feel better knowing these are okay feelings to have and that this too shall pass. Everything you said makes sense to me.

A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song. – Chinese Proverb


Submitted by Henry on Sat, 06/02/2007 – 5:29pm.

I am glad you wrote this. I know quite a few mothers with two kids who have felt this way (with many it passes rather quickly) and they feel very guilty about it often. You are not alone. I have one kid, so I can’t say I agree (sorry). But it sounds like you needed to say it.

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I have a confession. This is really hard for me to write for fear that those who don’t have children won’t understand and those that do have children will look down on me. I’m feeling regretful that we had a second baby. Of-course I love Bella. I wanted Bella. We tried for four months to have Bella. I have never, not even for one second, considered giving her up by abortion or adoption. I wouldn’t “pawn” her off on anyone even if I had a willing receiver. I am just feeling like a horrible mother right now – to both of my kids.

My patience has been tested and it is wearing very thin. Max is an amazing child. I would say (naturally) that he is absolutely brilliant. I fear that I did him a huge disservice by having a second baby before he was no longer my “baby.” He has become blatantly insolent – testing me every chance he gets – rarely obeying the first time I ask/tell him something. Yes, I know this is normal behavior for a two year old but I still feel responsible for it in some way. He’s cooped up in our house all day with only a porch and back yard to escape into… and I have to be a willing party for that to happen.

Bella cries more and longer than I ever let Max because half the time I just want to ignore her and the other half, I’m genuinely involved with something I can’t break away from right away. I swat Max more than I ever in my life thought I would and my bond with Bella is nowhere as strong as it was with Max when he was her age.

Every day is a struggle to be gentle to my children. Every day I struggle to talk calmly so Max will listen and feel respected. I just want to feel like I can handle this. I want to feel less annoyed by my kids. I want my kids to be older so I can have a break during the day while they are at school.

And then there is my poor little dog, Oscar. Clearly, he has some brain damage. I am filled with so much sadness today.

I had to push his leathery tongue back into his mouth.

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I woke up in excruciating pain in my right hand because we switched up our sleeping arrangements last night. This means that the way I normally position my hand to avoid pain was changed. It took me 40 mins this morning to change Bella’s poopy nappy. And of-course she had to have one of those blow-out poops that need hardcore cleaning. Blah.

Then, Max thought it would be fun to hide under the bed and squeeze half of Bella’s VERY expensive skin medicine out of its tube. I totally freaked out on him in a uber mellow dramatic way so he’d know how bad it was (and because he has been told at least four other times to not squeeze/play with products that are not toys). I popped him on the cheek and sent him to his room. He was crying and saying that he wouldn’t squeeze the tube again but I still made him go to the room – I needed to collect myself, finish changing Bella, and follow through with the time-out/cool down period for him. When I opened the door he was laying in his new big boy bed with his Elmo comforter pulled up over his body – he looked like he was just hanging out waiting to be able to leave the room. We talked about what he did again and how it was wrong, hugged, kissed and made up, then carried on with our day.

I don’t believe in perfect parenting. I don’t believe that reading all the right books will guarantee that my kids don’t turn out to be drug addicts or convicts. I read all those books to arm myself with knowledge so I can understand why my children behave in the ways that they do. And every-now-and-then I still commit offensives (according to the experts) – I yell, I loose it, I slap, I cry… I’m human. Sometimes I have felt bad for the way I’ve treated Max, leading to an apology and sometimes I have felt like my actions were necessary for the situation. My son watches TV and he eats junk food. Sometimes, he’s allowed to do these things because I need a break from him and TV or M&M’s are the only people in my village available at that moment. Sometimes, I let him just because he enjoys it.

Things were so different when I had one child. It was still tough. I still had difficult days. But things were different and I now can see how. I can see that it was actually easier and I feel so humbled by that. Don’t ask me how it humbles me but it does.

I used to be so righteous about my natural parenting. I used to think that if everyone employed the same parenting philosophies as I had, they would also be raising the ideal adult. Many of my convictions were based on this underlying need to be right, to always be doing right by my children, to be perfect, to raise perfect kids (even though I would have never used the word “perfect” to describe how I felt – I’m too smart for that – I think that was the goal I had in mind).

So much goes into this raising kids business – so much of myself, my husband, those around my kids, our extended family. I no longer feel solely responsible for how my children turn out. I play a huge role in their lives right now, I know that; I take that role very seriously, but they are still so young and will meet so many people that will have a larger than life affect on their perceptions. I feel less pressure to always do the right thing, to always be right in my parenting.

My imperfect parenting and my honesty about it is what will teach my kids that it is okay to be imperfect, to fuck up, to say you are sorry, to feel bad, to eat a bag of chips because you are depressed – all these things will happen but you will still always have the love of your mama, papa, and others in your life who have chosen to walk that path with you. You will always be forgiven by those who love you. Those who love you will not hold a grudge or attempt to make you feel guilty. You will always feel that the home you grew up in will always be your home – even when you have your own families and only visit on occasion. You will always be able to grab that remote control and turn the channel (even if I do snap at you to put it back on the show I was watching!).

It’s not my job to mold these kids. It’s not my job to carry the weight of their lives on my shoulders. Its my job to not put that weight onto their shoulders and to always be available when the weight is too much.

Having two kids has really humbled me the fuck out.

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I think I know what my MAIN problem is… I feel trapped. Trapped inside this house, trapped in my life, trapped in my obligations – even though I made these choices willingly and excitedly – I feel trapped.

Step 1.) I have got to figure out how to get out of my house more often.

Our neighbor down the street runs a home daycare center. I went to high school with her and she seems nice enough. I don’t think she fosters a creative learning environment or anything close to the ideas I’d like to pay someone to share with my son. She runs a straight-up “drop your kid off and I will care for him” kind of environment. She charges only 20 bucks A DAY (which is pretty cheap here), but I would only need her for about three hours in the morning so I’m hoping she’ll work with me on the fee.

If I just had somewhere to drop Max of from 9am-12pm so I could have some alone time with Bella, run errands, do housework, or have me-time (while Bella sleeps) it would be a HUGE help. And seeing as how my family is lousy at helping in ways that I need/ask for help, it looks like I’m going to have to consider paying someone.

Friday I’ll take a walk over to her house to see if she can help. Let’s cross all our fingers and toes in hopes that she will take Max for half a day, 1-3  days a week for a pro-rated fee. I’m not holding my breath, but we’ll see.

Before the next part of this post I should first explain… I have never let Max “cry it out.” So just know that since I was okay with doing it this afternoon, things are pretty bad for me right now.

As Max and I laid down for a nap around noon, at his request, I had a gut feeling that he was pulling my leg about being ready for sleep. That feeling was right – he just wanted to nurse. I really hate it when he does that.

At around 2pm Max was acting as ornery as they come – he was tired and in dire need of sleep. However, in the ornery spirit of the day, he was refusing the luxury of a nap. As I sat on the couch to nurse Bella he attempted to crawl all over me and disrupt her nursing session. I’ve been a little stressed-out about Bella because she has a severe case of eczema right now. Because she is not feeling well/comfortable, I am a bit MORE on edge (as if that were possible). I have to do lots of extra stuff to keep her skin hydrated (including major dietary changes). Anyway, after asking Max several times to not crawl on us and hearing him say, NO!, in his annoying as all hell sassy voice, I told him to go to his room. And NOOOO!, was the answer he gave me – each time I told him.

He got so mad that he had a meltdown and in typical Max-fashion, threw up all over the place. Normally, this would get him off the hook as I would set Bella down to make sure he was okay and then clean up the mess………………………….. normally. Well, nope, not this time. This time I sat Bella down and physically sent him to his room – and told him to take a nap. He screamed and protested and vomited several times on the bedroom floor. I threw in his sippy cup (literally), told him to drink some water and get into bed for a nap. I was burning up inside but managed to do this very calmly yet stern.

He continued his tantrum for about 15-20 mins as I scrubbed the living room carpet and tried to block out the screams of both my children (as Bella’s nursing session was interrupted she, too, was pissed).

They are both sleeping now. It was about 40 mins. of HELL but it’s over, for now. I peeked in on Max and he was in Papa’s bed with the covers pulled over his tired little body. I’m itching to clean the carpet in the bedroom but know I will have to wait until he wakes.

I was going to make a post about Max’s and my kitchen adventures – with pictures and everything! I’ll do that later. Even though life seems really difficult to cope with these days I do have some sunny patches mixed in with it all. I want to make sure I record those, too. So, later, when I find my MIA camera, I’ll make a sunny post.

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