back in the saddle

Since the last time I blogged, much has happened. I say that every time I take a hiatus from writing but it's true. Life continues and things progress whether I write about it or not.

But this time we added a whole new family member to the group. Calvin Scott Hunter was born a month early on February 21, 2019. He came out after 3 pushes with the cord wrapped around his neck twice. Luckily, it was only loosely wrapped and the bigger concerns were that he couldn't regulate his body temperature and his blood sugar was dangerously low. 

However, he's not one to stay down and after only 2.5 days in the NICU, he came home, looking like a baby doll in his big car seat, weighing in at only 5lbs 13 oz.

Yesterday we celebrated his 1st birthday and he is thriving. He's on the cusp of walking, pulling himself around furniture and climbing on things. He is a joy of a baby but he will definitely let his opinions be known when he wants something.

This year has been filled with other things too. We went on a family reunion trip with Jason's family to Colorado in June, I had a hysterectomy in November, a Thanksmas trip to Dallas in December and then I had carpal tunnel surgery last week.

Busy, fun and necessary describes this last year.

And through it all I've had very few mental health ups and downs. My medications have kept me incredibly steady (except for an incident with a breast feeding medication that I'll talk about later). I've had the normal hormonal issues that come from having a baby and a hysterectomy but I've stayed stable.

2019 was an incredible year and a great blessing to our family. So many wonderful and needed things happened. I know 2020 has already begun, but I'm excited to see what the rest of the year will bring. 

why so serious?

"Mommy, listen to this!"

Tells joke they just made up and isn't remotely funny. 

~light chuckle~

"Mom - that was funny! Why didn't you laugh? Wasn't I funny?"

Ouch. 

Kids can really cut right to it. Why hadn't I laughed? And why don't I laugh more? 

The thing is, I love to laugh. Some of my fondest memories with friends and family are ones filled with laughter. Great deep belly-laughs that cause tears to stream down my cheeks. Moments that cause inside jokes that last for decades. I love those kinds of laughs.

So why don't I laugh more with my kids? I've become too serious and stern for no good reason - other than the fact that I became a mom. Motherhood has changed me. Some for the better and some definitely for the worse. My bipolar issues also certainly don't help the matter. Since my diagnosis, I've found myself the quietest that I've ever been. In my high school years, I was seriously, obnoxiously loud and silly. Laughing all the time. Now, silence and polite laughs have become my forte. And I know it's all me. When my kids want to be silly, all I can think is "Please stop interrupting what I'm doing. I'm busy."

Too busy to laugh with them....how awful is that? 

I could blame it on the stressfulness of being a parent but that's crap. Everyone knows laughter can relieve stress. So it comes down to me. How do I want my home to sound? Silent as my perfect children of the corn while away hours playing by themselves? Or do I want to be part of their sweet laughter? As I've mentioned before, Jason plays the silly games and laughs at the thousandth joke. He makes them laugh. I crack a smile. Or half. 

That makes my heart hurt. That I find it hard to join in.

I want my home to be a welcoming place where the kids can feel relaxed and as happy as possible. And I know that includes mommy laughing more. 

So that's my goal this week, this month, this year and all the years to come. I want their memories full of laughter. Mine included.

hey jealousy

I trust my husband implicitly. We've been through too much for me to doubt him. Nothing bad - just almost 12 years of...much-ness. I can't think of a better term than that. We've been through tough things, as you would expect after so much time together. 

During our first year of marriage, I was jealous of every woman he talked to or about. The green-eyed monster would rear its ugly face until I knew exactly where that relationship stood and then I could feel superior. 

Now I know where my relationship stands and I don't feel threatened by every girl that comes into his life. 

But, yes, I've been jealous. I just never thought I'd be jealous of my husband. 

. . . . 

Everett: When will Daddy be home? 
Me: I don't know.
E: But when will he be home?
M: Soon.
E: Don't say soon! When will he be here? 
M: When he's done.
E: Just tell me! Grr Argg!

This conversation happens in some form every single day of my life. Both Penny and Everett LOVE their Daddy. And that's fantastic! I love that they love him and want to be around him. 

All the time. 

They'd pick him over me any day of the week. 

 

And that's the hard part. I'm the one who is home with them while he's at work but they constantly ask for Jason. To be quite honest, it hurts my feelings every time. I know I'm so lucky to have a husband who's involved in our children's lives. Too many live in ignorance of the importance fathers play in the lives of their kids. 

So I'm truly blessed. But that doesn't stop the sting of jealousy every time they ask for Dad instead of Mom. 

 

Jason is the fun parent. The "I'll play with you until my limbs fall off" parent. I'm more of the practical one. The "Get your shoes on, we're going to be late!" one. I've tried being the fun one who plays all the time. I'm just not very good at it. It's not my skill set. Jason says I need to practice more. And he's right. Practice would make it a little more natural for me. Instead I just compare myself to him and that is why I fail. 

I don't want to keep failing though. I truly believe there's no place for jealousy in a cohesive, happy family. So I'll keep trying to do a little better, play a little more, laugh more and remember that I'm grateful for what I have. 

5 and fighting

My daughter, Penny, is five years old. A 35 pound ball of unrelenting energy that bounces around our house from one interest to the next. My child has been blessed with a remarkable creativity, an intelligence and a will to accomplish everything she imagines. All of these things will suit her well as an adult. When it comes to force of will, she's like her mother. I, too, possess a will to have things my own way. A will that says I'm the authority, the one in charge. 

Being alike in this has caused no end of strife in our home. My husband calls it the "unstoppable force meeting the immovable object." 

I'm the mom but she doesn't falter. If I say one thing, it's immediately wrong. In her mind, she's an adult with wishes and demands that she is fully expecting to be fulfilled. In her mind, she is the final authority. And I can't leave it alone. I have to correct her.