Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts

"not a toy"

We have a Christmas Decoration Graveyard on our kitchen counter. It seems to grow each day. I never thought Ivar was quite so destructive, but clearly nothing is safe.

About a week ago I said to Rory, "I was in a great mood this morning. I can't figure out why I'm so crabby now." And he replied, "does it have anything to do with the beheaded angel on the counter?" Yes! That was it! Not to mention the wings, king's arm and robe and Joseph's staff.

I was really bent out of shape about the red ornaments with the wood curls that used to be inside of them, a very special decoration from my Aunt Jan and Uncle Don. I was sad about this until my sister said that her wood curls had been ripped out years ago by Mara and Sonna when they were each about two years old as well. And for some reason this brought me comfort. Maybe that's just how those ornaments look if you have little kids around.


It took us seventeen minutes to get bundled and out the door with a few tantrums yelling, "no boots! no boots!" and crying over mittens that were hard to get used to.

It took us seventeen seconds to decide it was "too cold!" and time to go "back inside!"

So we came back inside and watched Daddo build a snowman, all by himself. This was thrilling. Ivar jumped back and forth on the couch stopping occasionally to look out the window while reporting to me excitedly, "Daddo! Outside! Snowman! Carrot!"

the funny/not-so-funny things Ivar says


"In a minute, baby Elsie." This is said when baby Elsie is crying and I am not able to tend to her right away. Ivar sounds suspiciously like me when he says it.

"not quite" said high pitched and encouraging with two syllables on quite. This is said while trying to put duplos together and they don't quite fit. He also says, "just about" in that same high pitched, encouraging tone. Again with duplos.

"Baby Elsie! Daddo downstairs! Making coffee!" This is how Ivar greeted Elsie one morning. Adorable. And so amazing to me. It is incredible to watch his speech progress.

"Oh mama! See Stars!" While dusting off the top of a cupboard in our bedroom a lot of dust started to stream through the light pouring in our window. Ivar was on the bed and saw the dust sparkling in the air.

"Stop it! Stop it, Mama!" Said while I try to wrestle him into his coat, try to put his shoes on, get him in his jammies. This is a hard one to combat. My knee jerk response is to snap back, "Ivar! Stop it. You cannot say..." And then it's just too obvious where he has learned that phrase.

"Sit down. Sit here. Let's play, Mama." Melt my heart. I love this invitation.

"No, mine, Mama." This is said as I begin to play with his toys. I do not know where he learned that four letter word, but I am not a fan. In my head I think, You wanna bet? Who do you think bought you these toys?

"Oh Bible! Jesus! Lions! Big Fish! Noah's Ark!" I am trying hard to get him to sing Jesus Loves Me for the flip cam. Some parts are perfectly clear, other parts take some creative liberty. It makes me so happy.

"Mama! Almost home." When we hit the gravel road on our way back to our house.

a true story

Sunday we came home from church and I was feeling really ill. So I ate some crackers, fed Elsie and went to bed. I had the chills, had the sweats, had a bucket near by.

At 4:30 that afternoon I woke up and was taking it nice and easy. Rory had just changed Elsie who was still wearing her dress from church but nothing but a diaper on the bottom. This is important to note because as we sat in Ivar's room watching him play, Elsie sitting upright on my lap, she filled that diaper. Or she would have filled that diaper had it been covering both of her butt cheeks. Instead I suddenly felt lots of warmth on my lap.

I hollered for Rory to come and take his daughter. He had heard the filling from the other room and we laughed when he lifted her away. The diaper was empty. My pajama pants were a sight. 

Ivar was interested in what we were laughing at and came to look. But the second he saw my pants his face fell and he went white. His eyes began to water and he looked like he was choking on his tongue. I tried to reverse this moment, but it was too late. The boy lost his lunch, projectile, getting the floor, himself and mostly my pajama pants.

It didn't stop for a while. I yelled for a bucket and Rory threw the one that had been by my bed into Ivar's room running back to Elsie and yelling, "why is this happening?!!"

Minutes later Rory was taking all articles of clothing...Elsie's soiled leggings, Ivar's spewed on shirt and pants, and my poor pajama pants that were victim of both, and starting a load of laundry. I was on my knees working spot shot into the carpet, and Ivar was playing with his bath toys in a tub with no water, waiting for one of us to be able to supervise.

When Rory came back upstairs he began to run Ivar's bath water and I commented, "hey. remember how I am the sick one today? let's not forget that."

Ivar was fine after his bath. We now know he has a terribly weak stomach. And Elsie was fine once she had a diaper covering both cheeks. And strangely, after inhaling the fumes of spot shot and gross, I started to feel better too. I think it was the adrenaline of surprise shooting through me (or shooting at me?) that kicked me back into mother mode. Clearly there's really no good time for the mama to get sick.


I've had a rough few weeks here. Just tired, not confident I will ever feel rested ever again in my life, and easily frustrated with a side of weepy. I know in my head it is just a season, but the day to day tuckers me out.

I was sitting next to a mom last week during Toddler Rhyme 'n Time at our library. She has twin boys a bit younger than Ivar. I asked how she pulls it all off and she said, "at some point my husband looked at me and said that no one was going to come and bail us out. We had to figure out ourselves how we were going to pull this off."

Sort of shook me out of it. And I decided to become proactive.

So today I made a list of things that might help me find my motherhood mojo again. Here they are in list form, mostly for my own sake, but maybe for yours too:

1. I will sit down for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sit. In a kitchen chair. Maybe for five minutes even.  My breakfasts and lunches especially are eaten as snacks, never putting things on a plate, always grabbing more for Ivar, never actually feeding myself. I will dish up our plates and we will sit and eat together.

2. I will stop multitasking. For real. It's inefficient and I never have anything to show for large chunks of my day because I started to sort Ivar's clothes and put his summer shorts away, started to clean the bathroom, began to unload the dishwasher but nothing got done and now the piles I made of Ivar's clothes are all mixed up again, the bathroom looks the same and there are even more dirty dishes on our counter. I will decide on one task. And do it.

3. When Ivar is pining for my attention, I will give it to him. Undivided. I will stop whatever I'm working on and lay on my belly on the carpet and play with whatever he is playing with. I'll play hard. I did this today and he stopped dead in his tracks and watched me, amazed that I could be so fun. And it turned our whole day around.

4. I will drink lots of water throughout the day and take my multivitamin.

5. I will buy another cd player for the upstairs so that we can have music playing upstairs and downstairs. Because music helps me. A lot.

6. I will save my email for night time. Trouble is, I never have any energy then. But I really don't want my kids to remember me as that fun lady who always had her face stuck to a screen. That goes for watching Kathie Lee and Hoda too. Tivo.

7. I will be nicer to myself. More grace for me. And if I have to spend a day regrouping and not performing as an A+ Mama, that is okay too.

And now, it is 9:08 and I am going up to bed. Because an early bedtime tonight is the true key to a happier tomorrow.