IKEA believe all the help I had!

Water, Water Everywhere!

Pools, sprinklers, tables and bathtubs, oh my! These boys can't get enough waterplay. We've had unseasonably warm temperatures so it's been hot enough to go out in our suits even after dinner. Henry asks to play in the sprinkler every day. He calls his crocs "sprinkler shoes". Yesterday I even let him run through the water after Liam was in bed. Unfortunately the evening mosquitos really attacked him. He didn't seem to notice but I wince every time I see the bites covering his little body.

This is probably one of the last photos of this baby splash pad. The boys need something bigger now. I have lots of fun memories of our two summers with this playmat.

All in all, we had a great long weekend.  A few times, I found myself with the momentary blues.  My next door neighbors will move soon.  With them goes our nearest support, our safety net, if you will.  I'm sure that was the underlying reason for my tears, but mostly I found myself thinking those old, I don't deserve these two great children thoughts.  I actually don't have much time during the day to stop and even think about where I put the car keys.  Yet, late at night in the quiet house, I try to process my emotions.  After an exhausting day minding the children, it's probably not the best time to judge my thoughts though.

I'm always glad for the daylight and the activity it brings with it.  Even with an empty house next door, I am determined to have a wonderful summer with the boys.  (And find a swimsuit I can wear in public!)

Ready or not, here I come!

Project: Capelets

Simplicity 4434 with a few  modifications

These capelets were finished just in time for the twin baby shower on Sunday.  I chose an easy pattern to use with the fabric I fell in love with at the store.  Each night this week, after the boys were in bed, I worked cutting out the pieces and preparing the fabric.  I wasn't too productive because it's hard to have energy (even for a simple project like this) after working all day with middle schoolers and wrangling toddlers for hours after that.   That left most of the project to be done on Saturday.  All would have worked out fine if I hadn't chosen this particular day to allow Henry to skip his nap.

We had a wonderful morning.  Shopping and lunch at a new indoor playground.  Even Liam enjoyed climbing the padded structure and watching the big kids.  Henry made a new friend who helped him navigate the bigger areas of the playground. 

We arrived home at 2 pm.  (The boys usually nap from 12 to 3.)  I put Liam down but allowed Henry to stay downstairs.  I didn't think he'd actually sleep after all the excitement.   "Just sit quietly and watch Sesame Street while Mommy sews,"  I told him.  Ok, I'll pause while you finish laughing.

I love working with girly colors!

Well, aside from learning how to work with this fabric and that I didn't buy enough ribbon, I also learned that my boy is not ready to give up naps.  He spent the next hours whining, crying, tantrumming and insisting he wasn't tired.  We were both miserable. 

Thank goodnes there was a brief respite when I took Henry and his brother out for chocolate ice cream.  Liam had woke up from his nap refreshed and couldn't figure out why his brother was so cranky.  He just sat there in his highchair eating ice cream and strawberries.  Every so often, Liam would steal a glance at Henry with an expression of what's your problem? 

I knew Henry needed a nap.  At 3 years, 3 months many people think he should be able to give up the afternoon snooze.  I know he's not ready--next time I'll trust my intuition.

Week's End

I toyed with the idea of writing a fun, newsy post for the end of the week.  You know, describing how I finally taught Henry how to brush his back teeth.  (We use a mirror now.)  Or how I think Liam tried to kiss me for the first time last night.  Those things are wonderful and could be accompanied by cute photos.  But they don't do justice to what I experienced this week, what I learned and what, I hope, changes the way I live my life.

Although I have tried to keep it to a minimum, I'm sure strains of discontent have been noticeable in my posts.  There's no time.  There are too many chores.  There's not enough of me.  The baby won't stop screaming.   My job is no longer enjoyable. 

People close to me and who were aware of the many years I longed for children could not understand my negativity.  Hadn't all my dreams come true?  Weren't my children healthy and relatively happy?  Didn't we have a roof over our heads, health insurance and the beginning of a college fund?  Yes, yes, and yes.  And still, not a day went by that I didn't complain.  Kind of like this Amy Grant song but with less rhythm:

This may be a dream come true,

This may be poetry in motion,

This may be a dream come true,

But when it all comes down,

It's an awful lot to do.

                              "Hats"

If I wasn't complaining, losing patience with the children or dabbling in self-pity, I was spending hours feeling guilty about those very things.  But all that guilt (and sleepless nights) never changed my behavior.  It took an encounter with another mom to do that. 

To say that the scales fell from my eyes would sound melodramatic.  So I won't.  But they did.  After returning home, I saw everything in a new light.  Colors were brighter and my children's voices were sweeter.  My sticky floors made me smile and the pile of laundry made me laugh.  Trying to get two cranky boys ready for bed while they screamed and struggled out of their pajamas, made me thank God that I was given this opportunity each and every night.

Now I know, I haven't given details of this encounter with the amazing mom.  And I can't.  It wouldn't be fair.  She doesn't know that I walked away from our meeting moved to tears.  I don't know how she would feel about that.  I respect her and her children's privacy.  Maybe she will start her own blog.  If she does, stop reading mine--hers will be much more inspiring.

Well, if you read this far, you deserve one cute photo

For Crying Out Loud

Gosh, I really hope today is a better day for Liam.  Yesterday started out well.  For about 2 minutes.  He woke up fairly happy and glad to see Henry and me.  Then I stepped out of his room for literally ten seconds.  When I came back, he was screaming.  I thought he was just mad at me for disapearing so quickly after saying good morning.  He continued to wail as I picked him up and attempted our morning routine.  He would have none of it.  Liam's high-pitched shrieks echoed through the house.  He struggled to get out of my arms but once down on the floor, he cried even louder.  I tried everything to comfort him.  I checked him for a fever and other physical causes of the distress.  I detected nothing obvious.  Still the screaming persisted.  Finally I gave up on the upstairs routine, came downstairs and put him in his highchair.

Sitting at the table is one of Liam's favorite activities as long as there is finger food in front of him.  Not this day.  By now he had been bawling for ten minutes and I still had no idea why.  He wouldn't eat any of the favorites I put in front of him.  Bananas never fail to make it into his mouth and leave him with a smile.  Not this day.  I considered it a victory that he held tight to the banana slice instead of throwing it to the floor as he continued to scream.

Henry stood in front of him, asking "What's wrong Yee-um?"  I believe he was just as perplexed by his brother's bad mood as I was.  "Don't cry, Yee-um.  Mommy's here.  See.  It's okay."   Really, it was a very sweet gesture on Henry's part.  I could barely hear his words though; Liam shrieked through the entire exhchange.

At this point I gave up all hope of being on time for work.  I sent a text to my babysitter telling her we'd be late.  I figured I'd call the school office from the car (whenever I managed to get on the road) and ask someone to cover the first few minutes of class.

I was glad that the windows were closed.  Otherwise the neighbors would be concerned by the cacophony  coming from our little house.    I could barely hear myself think.  Maybe that's why, in desperation, I reached for the leftover birthday cake in the refrigerator.   I thought it couldn't hurt.  Who doesn't love birthday cake?  Even if it didn't help quiet Liam, cake would comfort Henry and me.  Yes, it was 7 am, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  I put a small slice in front of Liam and another on Henry's USA placemat.  Both boys were stunned.  Liam cried until the first morsel of frosted chocolate reached his mouth. 

Then he was quiet.

The walls seemed to shudder as if they, too, could not believe the relief silence brought.  Now all I had to do was sustain the quiet,  pick up the pieces of the morning routine, get some real food in the boys and get us all out the door.  I proceeded through each task walking on eggshells so as not to disturb the delicate balance that had resulted in Liam's precarious calm.  I even had a slice of cake to calm my nerves.

I spent many moments throughout the day trying to figure out what caused Liam's prolonged screaming.  Lately, he does not want to be held.  He gets upset when his brother takes his toys. He is picky about food and refuses to eat half of what I put in front of him.   I believe that's all normal for a toddler his age.  But when he pushes me away as I greet him (upon my return from work or first thing in the morning), I wonder if something is really wrong with our bond. 

It's a mother's job and privilege to comfort her child.  What a terrible feeling when I can't do that.  I'm realizing that having a second child does not mean I can tackle every situation with expertise.  It just makes me twice as unsure of what I'm doing.  Henry and Liam's demands are so different right now.  Even when I know what Liam needs, I can't provide for him the way I did with my only child.  At least not with the breadth and depth I think he deserves.

So, let's hope today is a better day.  We're completely out of birthday cake and I'm out of ideas...

You Are Here...

well, actually that may be Canada

...and we'll probably stay here.  At least for Mother's Day.  For months, I've had big plans for that weekend in May.  I promised myself we would go away for two days.  Away from the chores and endless, mindless cooking, cleaning, clutter and errands.  Actually, I think I have fantasized about a getaway for a year now.

Mother's Day 2009 was not enjoyable.  It should have been, of course.  I had two beautiful sons.  But I was nursing one around the clock and chasing the other while helping him adjust to no longer being an only child.  I was exhausted, depleted on both a physical and emotional level.  After Liam was born, with one notable exception, I had no help.  It was an incredibly lonely time.  Especially the first six to eight weeks after his birth.  Aside from taking Henry to the clinic for stitches one day, we never left the house.  My only adult company came from the voices of NPR.  I left the radio on for hours with the volume at barely a whisper so as not to wake the baby. 

By May, the isolation had taken it's toll.  So had the 'round the clock caretaking and meal preparation.  Because I was nursing, I was always hungry.  Because I was on unpaid maternity leave, I had no choice but to make all our meals from scratch.  I was really looking forward to a break.  But wait, I'm a single mother.  There is no one to recognize my role or give me respite.  So Mother's Day came and went like all the rest of the days that spring.

Of course, the boys are too young to recognize the day.  And if they were old enough, I wouldn't want them to spend any money on me.   I do what I do for them out of love.  They're my blessings.  Sometimes I just wish there were another person in my life who cared about what I do day in and day out.  Really saw me.  Since that's not going to happen, I decided that this year I'd take care of myself;  if only for two days.  I'd pack up the boys and go away for an entire weekend.  Far from the dishes, vacuuming and grocery shopping.  Somewhere that didn't have a stove or a washing machine.

I found the perfect place.  A kid-friendly resort about fifty miles from home.  Perfect, except the cost.  By my calculations, two nights lodging and food would cost around $450.  I don't think I can justify dipping that far into my savings for a 48 hour getaway.  There are cheaper options but none that I am comfortable with.  Traveling alone with two little ones, I must consider our safety above all else.

I'm afraid that if I did spend that kind of money, I wouldn't enjoy myself after all.  The worry that we'd return home to a broken appliance or some other expensive bill would plague me all weekend.  Reluctantly, I've shelved the idea of a  Mother's Day Weekend.  I may still take the boys on a day trip to the zoo. 

And there's always next year, right?

Spring Break 2010

Well, of course it didn't go as planned.  Mostly it was just the 3 C's:  cooking, cleaning and corraling toys.  However, there were a few truly wonderful moments during the week.  The boys saw both their grandparents and had two playdates with children their age.  Henry helped me hang colored plastic eggs on the tree out front so the Easter Bunny would know to stop at our house next week.  We also made an impromptu visit to the "tool store".  Henry had no idea such a place existed.  I am going to take him to Menard's more often.  Free parking and more tools than this three year old has ever seen. Much better than the expensive downtown museums!

Sunday morning during breakfast, I pointed out a robin hopping through the backyard.  Sensing our presence at the window, the bird began to head away from the house.  Henry asked me about the the robin's actions as I was clearing the table.  I mumbled my standard, before coffee answer: "I have no idea, Henry."

Next thing I know, H has slid the door open and is shouting, "Robin, whaddya doing there?"  I was trying so hard not to laugh, I thought tears would come from my eyes.  "He goin' gramma's house, mom....robin's gramma's house."  Now we know.

Speaking of the backyard, check out the photos of Henry doing a little spring cleaning.  He's a great help and so industrious.  He doesn't get it from me but I try to encourage him nonetheless.

All week long people kept saying to me, "It must be wonderful to have a whole week of vacation with your boys."  Hmmm, vacation?  Really? People don't say to stay-at-home-moms, "It must be really great to be on vacation every single day of your kids' lives," do they?  Sure I'm not heading out to teach at 7:45, but I'm not sitting on the couch eating bon-bons either. I'm still up at 5 am and not sitting down until 9 pm. Vacation, time-off and holiday are all terms that have no relevance in my life these days. 

I'm not really complaining--I had plenty of days off before the boys were born.  I read books, did crafts, gardened and traveled.  I watched hours and hours of BBC mysteries, Friends episodes and talk shows but still couldn't fill all my time.  Now it's the complete opposite, I multitask while multitasking.  "Finding Balance" is a concept for glossy magazine articles.  This is real life. 

Well, I'm off to fold some some laundry as I brush my teeth and read the mail.  A perfectly normal evening around here.

You Make Me Smile

I'm so grateful for all who commented on my last post.  The fact that I can tell it like it is and then move on helps me through the rough days of single motherhood.  The boys and I spent a quiet day at home yesterday.  It was just what we all needed.  I made a big dinner and let Liam sit at the table.  He loved being there instead of his highchair in the corner.  His face was beaming as he took bites of his sweet potato fries. 

I must remember that it's the small moments at home, doing the everyday stuff, but doing it together, that really matter most. 

The Mother-Son DayThat Wasn't

Months on the calendar. Weeks of planning.  Days of preparing.  And yet, our mother-son trip to the aquarium didn't happen.  As usual, I thought I had it all figured out.  Liam would stay at grandma's while I took Henry to the world famous aquatic museum.  I researched the cost, the parking, the exhibits and the food court.  I daydreamed about how much fun we would have and how excited Henry would be to see the creatures up close.  He'd laugh as he watched the fish darting, swimming, and gliding serenely behind glass.  I'd enjoy a carefree day with my oldest son as he discovered the wonder of ocean life.

Back in the real world of nothing-ever-turns-out-the-way-I-plan, Henry decided that he didn't like fish.  He wanted to stay at Grandma's.  I could tell by the tone and strength of his voice that there was no way I could cajole him into this outing.  I certainly didn't want to waste $50 (or more) by taking him somewhere that he didn't want to be.  Besides, how can I say "no grandma for you today" when we were stopping at her house to drop off Liam?  That's clearly where he wanted to be and how he wanted to spend the day.  Reframed, it's sweet.  But I am not in a reframing mood.

In fact, I'm in a terrible mood.  I complained my way through the day, said and did things I'm ashamed of.    Nothing can cheer me up.  During dinner Henry said, "We had fun at Grandma's".  Just like that--out of the blue.  Should make me smile, right?  Nope, still just thinking about how this was the only fun day I planned for spring break and it didn't happen.  While I was giving Liam a bath, Henry came up and kissed my arm.  Just like that--out of the blue.  Fifteen minutes later, I was yelling at him and his brother for not cooperating with the bedtime routine.

Not cooperating is an understatement.  Actually, Liam was climbing my leg while simultaneously unrolling the toilet paper while I was trying to get hold of Henry who was balancing on one foot  atop the toilet.  Henry was fiercely refusing the application of a topical drops ($30 for 1 oz)  to his severe underarm rash.  

But still, I was really yelling.  Screaming at a 13 month old...does it get any more shameful than that?

I knew enough to go in the other room for a few moments to collect myself.  The rest of our nighttime routine went smoothly.  I was able to make both boys smile and laugh before lights out.  I hope they sleep well.   I'm pretty sure I won't.

First Saturday of Spring

...and we're spending it inside.  Yesterday we played outside until early evening in just our sweaters.  Today it is snowing.  There will probably be three inches on the ground when it stops.  Not bad as far as midwest snows go, but enough to keep us inside for the morning.   I took advantage of a couple of cancellations on our social calendar as well.  We had homemade waffles (no toaster!) and I brewed freshly ground Starbucks coffee.  I relaxed my television rules and Henry relaxed completely with PBS kids on in the background. 

We almost never have a day when we can stay home past 8:30 am.  This was quite a treat and a much needed stress circuit breaker.   Yesterday was the last day I was required to work with a student teacher.  It was not a good experience.  The fact that we both endured for eleven weeks is a testament to our resilence and commitment to students.  That is the only common ground we shared. 

The pre-service teacher was my age with years of substitute teaching under her belt.  However, she did not have the entry level skills required of a classroom teacher.  There is a lot more to teaching than getting the students to like you.   One must be a team member who can work with all the adults in the school.  One must understand the scope and sequence of the curriculum and how to deliver effective instruction of that curriculum.  None of this was evident in the student teacher.  When I gave constructive feedback and specific advice, she bristled.  Or made excuses.  For eleven long weeks.

Since January, I have felt like the captain of a ship which was being steered toward rocks by the first mate.   She was able to jump ship after 11 weeks and now I have to fish the sinking students out of the depths.  I will be handing out the life jackets and towels when I return from spring break.  Hang on, kids!

Pondering Preschool

If you had told me ten years ago that I would have a child but that I might not send him to preschool, I would have laughed in disbelief.  For several reasons.  Now I have two children and my oldest is approaching,  but is not registered for,  preschool.   

As an educator with an addtional degree in early childhood intervention, I know that Henry doesn't need preschool the way some kids need that early classroom experience.  But  it would be a wonderful, enriching experience nonetheless.  Logistically, I don't know how to give that to him.  Our community preschool programs for three year olds meet twice per week for 2.5 hours. 

Currently Henry and his brother are at an in-home daycare for eight and a half hours per day.  He is one of three children attending and receives nurturing care of the highest quality.  He is the oldest child in that setting and turning three makes him eligible for preschool.  However, he is not potty-trained.  Not even close.  So I can't sign him up for the remaining months of this school year anyway. 

Yet the questions linger.  Should I secure him a spot for the fall?  Will he be completely potty-trained by then?  How will I get him to and from the twice weekly sessions?  My current provider may or may not be able to drive him.  There is always the option of moving him to a daycare center that provides a preschool program for some part of the day.  However, this would increase my childcare costs greatly and/or force me to separate the boys.  I really don't like the idea of having the three of us in three different locations all day, everyday.  

Depending on potty training progress, I am hoping to sign H up for some day camp experiences this summer. Next month, I'll tour some preschools and register him for a  standard  five hour per week fall placement.  If I cannot arrange the transportation or if he is not potty trained by then, I'll forfeit the start-up fees.  Meanwhile I'm off to replenish our crayon, glue stick, stamp, scissors and paper supplies!

Liam update...

The pediatrician is referring us for an echocardiogram just to rule out anything serious.  He doesn't think that it will find any problems since Liam is acting completely normal. I'm not too worried, but would like to know what caused the cyanotic symptoms (and how to avoid it happening again).

We're all looking forward to a long weekend!

(Not so) Thrilling Thursday

Liam and I spent three hours of mommy and me time at the urgent care center yesterday.  My daycare provider called me at work and said his lips kept turning blue but he was breathing just fine. (She's a mom of 3 and a former EMT, so I trust her observations)   I called my pediatrician's nurse and left a detailed message.  She never called back so off to urgent care. (MY ER copay is $500--we never go there)

The doctor couldn't find anything wrong. They did an EKG which was very difficult on a wiggly eleven month old! The doctor then consulted with my pediatrician (sure, she got through!)

I have to bring Liam in today and pick up orders for an echocardiogram. Of course, I was not worried until late last night when it all hit me. I'm sure he's fine but there's always that nagging fear. (When I related his history of an Apgar score of 2, the UC doc freaked out even though that was 11 months ago and he's been fine since!)

I didn't have our stroller so Liam sat on my lap the entire time--mostly trying to get down and crawl on the (yikes!) center's floor.  My phone didn't work in the exam room where we waited and waited. I couldn't check on Henry who was still at daycare. I kept us amused as best I could which is why we have this souvenir photo.

Ready or Not, Here Comes 2010!

I have really enjoyed reading the many "year in review" postings on the blogs I follow.  Moms have done such a wonderful job chronicling the changes and milestones of the past year.   I'm impressed and inspired.  I will definitely try to do something like that next year.

Liam's birth in 2009 makes the year one that I will cherish.  Although the past two weeks have brought difficult times, I cannot "throw the baby out with the bathwater" and say that I'm glad to see 2009 go.  It will always be the year that my baby boy joined our little family.  Nothing can overshadow that.

I am glad to see the holidays pass.  The intensity of sadness and loneliness has overwhelmed me.  Whether it is the residual effects of the flu, cummulative exhaustion, the impending (sooner-than-I-wanted) weaning of my ten month old or some other ailment, I am having a hard time of it. 

Although I have suspected this for months, words and actions over Christmas showed me how little I, as an individual, matter to my extended family.   It is a bitter pill to swallow and adds to the isolation I feel as an older SMC living in the suburbs.  Maybe all moms must accept this obsolesence and invisibility. Hopefully those with partners do not have it quite as bad. I must face the facts and each moment, positively, for my children's sake.  And, in all fairness, it must be added that both boys are well-loved by all their relatives.

Of course my children are my highest priority.  They need so much more than I do and do not owe me a single thing.  I must learn to keep them emotionally well-supported even when I feel abandoned and alone.
In 2010, I will need to help Henry face his own losses.  As close friends move away, he will need comforting and understanding to face the situation.  Liam will  have his own growing pains, I'm sure, as he competes for toys and attention with his big brother.  His new found mobility brings safety concerns as he tries to follow his brother's every move. 

My job outside the home has become more complex and I am now responsible for a student teacher's learning experience in addition to that of my students.  Lastly, I must become more disciplined with my budget and find ways to make my dollars stretch to cover our increasing costs.  There's lots for me to concentrate on in the new year.  I will be taking a few weeks off from blogging in order to tackle the beginning of 2010.

Hopefully, I'll return recharged and ready to share details as I prepare for the big February birthday parties!  Meanwhile, I'll continue to add updated photos to my Flickr account on the sidebar.  Sending you my sincere,

 Best Wishes for the the New Year

Kitchen Help

As you can see, Henry used to be very helpful in the kitchen.  Now he would rather do a jigsaw puzzle or draw pictures at the counter while I prepare our dinners.  That's why I'm excited to have found this site.  I'm happy to share it with you.  Hopefully it will make our busy lives a little easier during the holidays!

http://www.crockpot365.blogspot.com/

How I Handle Solo Parenting

I just do.  That't the only way I can answer the question, "How do you do it,  with two little children and a full time job?"  I don't have live-in help, I don't have come-in help.  With the exception of my elderly father there is no family help.  HOWEVER, I have great friends and neighbors who care about my children, make me laugh and lend a hand.  That makes a difference.  On the really bad days, it makes a difference between sheer despair and the determination to go on. 

There's no denying that I brought these children into the world by my own free will and with the grace of God.  It's my responsiblitiy to make their childhoods happy, healthy and safe.  Everyday, whether I want to get out of bed or not, I must meet the day and spend it caring for these two boys in a way that prepares them for meeting their own life challenges.   With the help of my friends (old and new) and a good cup of coffee, I pray that I will not disappoint my sons.

Something New, Something True...

Like many moms, I subscribe to all the parenting magazines.  Each has a little different take on motherhood and is written for a slightly different (if overlapping) demographic.  I read them all.  Or more accurately, since Liam was born, I glance at them before deciding which issues to store for a rainy day and which can be recycled on the way in from the mailbox.

One day last week, I found myself  parked on a city street with a Starbucks' Grande Peppermint Mocha, no children in the backseat and nowhere to be for at least thirty minutes.   I seized upon the opportunity to leaf through an issue of "American Baby".  Sure, the time might have been better used for a quick catnap, but I think the Village police may have frowned upon that if they happened by.

I found two snippets of information that were both informative and familiar.  By that I mean I'd never seen the information spelled out in black and white, but it instantly made sense.  I found myself nodding in agreement behind the steering wheel when I read:

• A Harvard study reports that moms of boys produce milk with 25% more calories.  (No wonder I was so hungry all the time after Liam was born.  I just couldn't get enough to eat.  The take-out bills completely broke the budget I had so carefully planned out for my maternity leave)
• When it comes to childcare, "wonderful is ten times better than good....when we did find someone wonderful, the difference was so dramatic that I wished I'd never settled for less."  (Again the b-word, comes up...my budget is stretched by our current childcare arrangement but it is so wonderful, so nurturing that I'll never go back to mediocre again.

So was it a good use of my time to sit and read what I already know to be true?  Is it more true because it was printed in a  national magazine that's plastered with ads for infant supplies which are only useful for 4 hours when the baby is 12.75 weeks old?  Okay, maybe flipping through the glossy pages wasn't the best way to spend my time, but for a few minutes I felt validated and capable of facing the day with my two children under the age of 3.  Then again, maybe it was just the caffeine kicking in.

Untitled

I really want (need) to write about how difficult it is parenting two little children as a single mother by choice.  So many issues both large and small.  I blame all this introspection on the holidays.  That being said, I am going to save such posts for another day.  Right now, I'm choosing to delight in this picture that I found all but forgotten in my October photo file.

How I Spent My Day Off

After the usual breakfast routine/rush, I spent this rare weekday off doing the following.

• Took H to daycare
• Washed kitchen and dining room floors
• Drove Liam to drs. appt.
• Returned home, wrote several e-mails
• Retrieved our runaway dog from the neighbor's
• Painted two accent walls (previously accented with Henry's fingerprints)
• Touched up the paint on Henry's ceiling (don't ask)
• Rearranged furniture in bedrooms so we'll all get a good night's sleep (hope springs eternal)
• Prepared lunch, nursed Liam
• Went to fabric store (almost unheard of these days)
• Returned home, fed Liam
• Picked up H from daycare
• Took both boys to the mall to start Christmas shopping (with a quick stop for chicken nuggets)
• Returned home, fed Liam
• Bathed both boys
• Read two bedtime stories
• Put H to bed (after discovering entire bed needed to be stripped and remade--really, don't ask)
• Nursed Liam and tucked him in

In between chores and errands, I added more and more to my weekly to-do list.  Probably two items for every one that I finished today.  Instead of letting it get me down and overwhelmed, I'm choosing to give myself credit where credit is due.  I'm certain if all of us wrote down the things we accomplish in one day, our lists would be amazing.  Try it...and let's all give ourselves a much needed break.

Working Mom Blues

     It's getting difficult to be a working mom.  Of course, I'm not just realizing that two and a half months after returning from my second maternity leave.  It was hard from day one.  But the now my job is getting unpleasant.  Those hours I spend away from my family are not very enjoyable.  This is new. 

     I have always enjoyed my work in special education, especially the seven years I have spent as a middle school teacher.  Certainly I've enjoyed some days more than others, some classes more than the rest and some supervisory duties more than the lunchroom.  But for the most part, work has not felt like a chore.  If I had to leave my children for the day, at least I looked forward to spending that time in the classroom with students.  I remember walking to work one day and realizing how fortunate I was to have a fulfilling job outside the home.  It made separating from Henry a bit easier.

     That was two years ago.  Something has changed.  I can't quite get my edge back.  The individual needs of the middle schoolers are overwhelming me.  I can't seem to capture the students' interest, garner their respect or even keep their attention longer than three minutes.  My lessons aren't exciting or thought-provoking and my instruction isn't helping anyone.  We are all frustrated in room 211.

     On my desk, amidst the strewn papers, blank lesson plan pages, errant sticky notes and lists of unwritten IEPs, I have this quote from one of Alexander McCall Smith's novels.

You simpy could not help everybody; but you could at least help those who came into your life.  That principle allowed you to deal with the suffering you saw.  That was your suffering.  Other people would have to deal with the suffering that they, in their turn, came across.

     Each day I return to the classroom and try to fix what's broken.  That must be a sign I haven't quite given up.  I can't--there are children depending on me.