Mommin' It Up!

September 4, 2008September 4, 2008

My Weaner Has a First Name

As I write this, I am sitting on my couch listening to my daughter Sophie chatter over the baby monitor. She is in her crib, but it’s not nap time. She’s there because she wants to nurse, and I want to wean her, and I don’t know what else to do with her. Sometimes she’ll be distracted by a snack, a toy, or a TV show, but this afternoon she’ll have none. She has nursed three times today (it’s about 4:00 P.M.now) and that is the best we’ve ever done. The girl is 21 months old now, and it is beyond time for us to be done nursing. Because before two weeks ago when I really started to try to wean her, Sophie nursed not just in the morning, not just at night, not just at nap time, but whenever she wanted to. Her average was probably 8-10 times a day. It’s just crazy, and exhausting, and as much as I have loved nursing my child, and as much as I have talked about weaning her but not ever done anything about it, I am now READY. Over the past two weeks I’ve really been able to cut back, but the past two days haven’t been so hot. So today I’m trying so hard to stick to my guns.

But I’m sitting here crying on the couch. Nothing feels good or right about any of this. Being a human pacifier didn’t feel good or right, having Sophie try and pull my shirt up in public – definitely not good or right. Having her fuss and climb all over me and having to put her to bed because she wants to nurse and I won’t let her – doesn’t feel good or right either. Now it’s 4:17, and I can’t leave her up there forever!

If someone could please give me a “Magic Weaner” button, that would be super. The process is wearing me down. If I could just wake up tomorrow and be over this hurdle, I’d be one relieved mama.

September 2, 2008

I can’t take the drama!!

Our lives are completely consumed with drama… serious, world-ending drama.

Like what Kate is going to wear each day, for example.

She must have stood in front of her closet for 20 minutes this morning. A closet full of clothes and she can’t find one decent thing to wear.

She is four years old! Everything looks cute! I mean, I could understand such activity if she were, say, 29 years old and four months post-partum. Then what is wear is a true quandary. But she could pull off a swimsuit, tutu and rainboot ensemble – this is not a big decision!

It kills me how dramatic she is. Yesterday I told her she couldn’t wear a frilly skirt to the park. She looked at me with the utmost seriousness and said “All. My dreams. Are dead.”

Lest I kill her dreams, I consented to the skirt.

She couldn’t find her favorite shoes this morning (I don’t know where they could have been… but let’s just say I am glad she didn’t look in the trash can). Anyway, Andy showed her the footwear choices for the day. She picked up a pair of Nikes and said, “Well, these shoes won’t make me very popular, but I guess I’ll wear them anyway.”

So this drama, it gets better, right? Surely she’ll outgrow it any day now. It can’t last forever. I mean, look at me. I’m totally drama-free. And I never stare at my closet for extended periods of time.

Oh crap. I am so in for it.

September 1, 2008September 1, 2008

Breaking News: I’m Not Perfect

I’ve seen some inspiring posts where female bloggers challenge their readers to “get real” by showing a picture of themselves first thing in the morning, before shower, hair, makeup, and all the other magic tricks we use to put ourselves together.

Well. This is not one of those posts, per se. No way in h-e-doublehockeysticks are y’all ever seeing me without makeup. But here is something else I am ashamed of, that I’d like you to take a look at. It’s my living room (complete with two pajama-clad TV watching zombie children):

and my dining room:

These photos are a very good representation of what my house looks like every day (except for the living room usually has a bunch of train track on the floor also.) Now before you get the idea that I am a lazy piece of crap, let me tell you that I do try. I make a to-do list every day and it almost always includes cleaning and sweeping these rooms. And you know what? Almost every day, I DO IT!! But by the next morning, it looks like the above pictures.

Sometimes it kills me when I am cleaning those rooms, because I already know what it will look like 15 ~~seconds~~ minutes after I am done.

I hate housework. I really am the world’s worst housekeeper. It is something that I struggle with every day and sometimes I only do it because I don’t want to live in filth. I never do it because it is my “job” or I want to or I want to be a good steward of the wonderful home God has given me. I do it because it has to be done. But do I put everything in its place after the kids go to bed? Do I follow them around all day picking up every toy after they have used it? Do I make them pick up before bed?

No.

I am the world’s worst housekeeper.

And I am trying to make myself believe that it’s ok. Because people, I am just never gonna be Suzy Homemaker. If I try to aspire to that, I will just fail again and again and again. Imperfection just fits me a little more comfortably than my Suzy H. costume.

So I guess by posting about my shame, I’m hoping to help myself feel better about it. Does that make any sense at all?

So my friends, I showed you mine, now will you show me yours?

Let’s decide together that it’s ok to do the best we can. Let’s decide that posting pictures of our messy houses is the NEW BLACK! Solidarity, sisters! Go take a picture of your mess, post it on your blog, and leave your link in the comments.
Or just leave me a comment and tell me I am totally awesome despite my myriad imperfections.

Either way. 🙂