Just Like Old Times.....

I have been a bad blogger.  Well, it's winter, and as you know I would rather be hibernating.

Recently, I kept both Abigail and 4 month old Adriana while their parents went out for a few hours.  We are calling Adriana "Rose", and she is quite fetching.  She is at the age where if you happen to catch her eye, she grins and it spills out of her, washes all the way down and she giggles and waves her hands and feet.  I am, naturally, very taken with her.

We got a long famously...... until we didn't.  She may have been hungry, I don't really think so, but as she didn't settle down, I warmed up a bottle.  This is no small feat when you are dealing with frozen breast milk, but I got it ready and offered it to her.

Bless her little heart, she has so far learned that when she wants her mother, and therefore to be fed, all she has to do is cry a little.  Well, she cried, I offered her the bottle, and she cried some more.  Abigail dove into action and performed all her tricks.  Her tricks did not work either.  That night Rose learned an important life lesson which was captured perfectly by the Rolling Stones in the song You Can't Always Get What You Want.

Miss Rose ratcheted herself up louder and louder.  She got to the point where she was stiff as a board, she made little fists, and she screamed for all she was worth.  Personally I had to admire her tenacity.  This girl already shows signs of deep commitment and the courage of her convictions.  I think she is going to be one to watch.  She doesn't give up easily and compromise is not yet in her repertoire.

At one point, early on, Abigail started screaming too, I guess figuring that she was speaking her sister's language.  I got that stopped.  Abigail decided she would brush my hair "for" me at this point, and I let her. I was holding screaming Rose, bouncing on the edge of the bed, and when Abigail brushes your hair, you are not allowed to turn your head. It went along pretty good until I turned my head and she caught the brush in my earring.  No harm done, but no more brushing my hair either.

Poor Shadow, who you may already know pretty much runs this house, about lost her mind.  I wish I would have thought to take a picture of her eyes because they were pouring empathy out by the bucketful.  She would look at the baby and then look at me, like "What should we do?  Why don't you know what to do?"  Jack just laid on the floor and sighed a lot.

At one point My Youngest Baby got up and said "I can't take this", and I actually laughed out loud.

When this happened with my own babies, I felt just like poor Shadow, which is to say, I felt like I should be able to figure it out and stop it immediately.  You get better with practice, of course, and by the time the twins were born I was much better at it.  But My Youngest Baby was a child who could not settle down if he could see or hear ANYTHING.  I finally figured out that if I put him in the bassinet, draped a receiving blanket over the top so that he could not see any visual stimulants, and then rolled him in by the dishwasher that the gentle WHOOSH.......WHOOSH.......WHOOSH of it would lull him to sleep.  I once saw a commercial for a dishwasher that made no noise (so they said) and thought that would be a bad choice.  It would have been for me, anyway.  I told him that story and he looked at me like there was no way that could possibly be true.

About 20 minutes into the end of the world as we know it, I called Rose's mom and Daddy told me that Rose prefers her bottles warmer than I probably realized.  It turned out that he was right.

By this time I was sweaty, Rose was sweaty, the dogs, twins, and Abigail were stressed, and all I could do was be glad that I could handle this.  This was not my first rodeo.  It made me remember what was, in reality, the most miserable time of my life fondly.  Not unlike a seasoned soldier looks back at boot camp.  Yeah, it was terrible, but you survived it and just look at you now!  You can do this, and you know you can do this.  It makes all the difference in the world.  Or like how much you hated going to school until you had to get a real job, when all of a sudden you would give anything to go back to that place and do it over.

 .

I was equal to the task.  I am like a baby screaming ninja now.  I saw her screaming and raised her a bottle that was not quite hot but much warmer than I thought it should be.  And she folded.  After 35 minutes of giving it all she had, she learned the art of compromise.

The silence was deafening.  Everyone's shoulders went down about 2 inches, and that baby went to sleep like an angel.  I laid her down in the cradle that my own babies slept in and sighed a contented sigh.

Around midnight, she rolled over, or maybe just moved her hand.  In any case, she made a noise and I shot out of bed like the ninja I now am and got a bottle all ready.  Defrosted and too hot (for me) but just right (for her), I was ready.  The only one up in  my quiet house, I waited. I thought about reading but didn't want to wake my brain completely up. It's a fine line between getting up and doing what you have to do and being able to go right back to sleep.  One I apparently have still to master.

I waited so long that the bottle was no longer the right temperature.  I stood over her and observed her closely.  She was out like a light.  I waited some more.  I put the bottle in hot water to keep it warm.  The water cooled, and still she did not move.  Her parents came home and she slept on.  I felt, for some reason, like she had one-upped me, and if I went back to bed she would have her revenge, so I waited some more.  After an hour I started calculating how much sleep I was missing and finally I went back to bed, still believing that she would wake up as soon as I drifted off.  Then I remembered that I did this same exact thing with my first child.  If I would have just left him alone, I would have gotten a lot more sleep!

Well, that baby slept right through until 4 am and the only one who was really happy with that was her mother.  She said she never did that for her.  I laughed and said "She never has to do that with you, you're the mother!!"

I guess the lesson is that no matter how good you are, you are never really in control of anything.  Better to be ready, of course, but don't be surprised if what you are ready for doesn't ever happen.  Oh, and roll with the punches, because I can promise you they will keep coming.  But you will get better with practice, and there is no finish line, or ceremony, or prize that you can keep on a shelf and show your friends.

Mothers don't need that kind of recognition, not really.  Mothers know that no one judges them as harshly as they themselves do, and that no one will ever know the victories they win.  All you can do is the best you can, and that is enough.  More than enough, sometimes, even if you are the only one who ever know it.

Sparkles and Sprinkles

Since Christmas was so strung out this year, this post covers a lot of time.  It was not all spent crying over the trashcan and coming late to the realization that your kids have left home...........5 years ago.  hahaha

Our house was visited by the amazing Abigail for a few days recently and I must say she adds a lot of sparkle.  Literally.  She came equipped with silver sequined boots and silver glitter ballet slippers.  To see those sparkly things in the pile of size 12 sneakers did my heart a world of good.  She came along at a time when I really needed her and has gotten me through some dark days.  (Ok-years.....but you see how perfectly it all works out?  And now another baby girl will be following in her footsteps.  I'm simply not the type to turn bedrooms into closets for myself.  I come from different stock, a more welcoming and less self-obsessed kind. ;)  No telling how long I can stave off the realization that the twins are gone before I have to face that, this way!  See?  There is a method to my madness.)

Adriana...you can see she is coming along beautifully

Her boots and shoes were only compliments to the rest of her wardrobe, which consisted of lots of tulle ruffles, sequined skirts and glitter leggings.  The dogs were the most thrilled of all.  Not only did she sparkle, but she moves a lot more than any human they have ever seen in the house.  A lot more.  They faithfully followed her everywhere she went and the three of them had a really great time playing a version of "the floor is made of lava".  This is what they did while Mimi tried to figure out how to get the video game player to play a movie......for 30 minutes......while she had one of the twins on the phone telling her exactly what to push on the controller.  He finally just had to come home, as his mother is so unfamiliar with controllers that it never occurred to her there are buttons on the front of the thing.  I couldn't even figure out what the buttons on top were supposed to do.  I'm proud of that, in the big picture.  Video games are one evil I have completely avoided.  It figures that I would pay the price when all I wanted to do was watch a simple video.  You say technology has advanced.  I say it's advanced right into the sewer, that's what I say.

So I let her open a Christmas present early.

Apron by Cheryl Arnold Craig of Cheryl's Sewing, Unionville, MO.  You can find her on FB or at    her blog

I think it is as adorable as she is in it!  We got to work right away.  I had several things already mixed up and ready to dip or bake, and we did both.

You always have make sure it's "fit ta eat"

We also had nice talks about who she was, as she is a big sister now.  She is not a baby anymore, but she is MY baby (her blue eyes looked up for confirmation at this, which I gave with alacrity).  She is a kid, not a big kid, though.  A little big kid, or as she put it "a widdle big kid".  She is just at the age where she still can't say some things and I try to hang onto these days especially hard.  It was interesting to see how she sees herself, not to mention me.  I know full well that the days when she knows everything already are just waiting a little ways ahead, so I intend to remember every one of these sweeter ones while I can.  Guess what else I got her?  I had to smile when I clean Mackenzie's room...remember the angel wings?  Without remembering them I had gotten Abigail some this year.  She loved them. 

She isn't into posing for pictures...yet.  I think that's Jack in the background, asking if she's going to eat that...

4 year old's simply tell you the most amazing things.  All true, nothing censored,  from their point of view.  You would be surprised at some of the things you learn, you should talk to one today.

She achieved Master Sprinkler status in a few hours, as she has so much sprinkling to do she had bottles in both hands, sprinkling for all she was worth.

Putting sprinkles into a cup gives you a nice mixture of red and green because let's face it:  who can ever decide between them?  And why should we have to choose?

My Bonus Daughter, her mom, sweet thing that she is, insisted we go "do something" during the week I had off.  This is one of the things I love most about my bonus daughter--she actually thinks of me and is willing to do whatever it takes to spend time with me.  She spreads sparkles wherever she goes, just like her daughter.  We met at high noon at a bowling alley and bowled a game.  We all had a great time, even though we are by no stretch of the imagination great bowlers.  It had been entirely too long since we had eaten at a bowling alley, too, as real bacon cheeseburgers and tenderloins were to be had for very reasonable prices.  It was a good day!

She is also young enough to grab up the camera and takes lots of pictures without focusing up our noses.  Just one skill I covet.....

My youngest baby is multi-talented: baby holding and keeping score simultaneously.

Everybody got plenty of practical and appreciated gifts, me included.  I got the warmest, softest new robe and slippers from the kids, which kept me all warm and snuggly, and this necklace I got for myself.  I LOVE it!

By ReBlinged.  You can find them on FB also.  They take vintage items and give them new life.  This is my version of a mother's ring.

I don't know if you remember or not but I vowed that my presents would be hand made this year at some point.  I did not say they would be hand-made by me, so the apron and the necklace still count.   But I did pretty good with what skills I have to work with and little time.  

We made LOTS of candy.  By far the most popular were the peanut butter balls.  Take 24 Nutter Butter cookies and crush 'em.  Mix with 8 oz. cream cheese, roll into balls, throw the balls in the freezer and then dip them in chocolate or almond bark.  Very good.  Tip: try to keep the balls small.  I have no patience and as a result my truffles ended up taking four bites to finish.  Two bites is about right.

It looks great, doesn't it?  None of it was hard.  Check out Kraftfoods.com and you too will feel like a wizard in the kitchen.  (Even if you didn't get a Snuggie-but if you did--watch the sleeves!)

I smashed the cookies by myself!

And in the interest of trying to survive without being able to get into a Dr., I came up with this:

Everybody went crazy for this stuff. * Some of them were actually  sick.

I found this on the blog http://HomesteadingSurvivalism.com, which I will have on my blog list soon.  They are redoing their website presently.  Check them out.  I  really like them.   For this I just cut up 2 lemons and about 2 finger-lengths of ginger root and then fill the jar with honey.  You are supposed to let it set, stirring each day until the honey and citrus makes a jelly.  Take a spoon or two of the jelly, add boiling water, and you have a tea that will help you when you are sick with a cold or flu. It's wonderful!  You can also add some whiskey for an actual  Hot Toddy.  I finally figure that one out!  One of the recipients was so sick that he did not bother with making the tea, or even the Hot Toddy, and just ate it by the spoonful.  He reported that it helped a lot and wanted more in just a few days.  I found some pint jars on sale and it was a hit.

My list for hand made (by me) presents is growing for next year.  Next year I will be ready!!  I know I've said it before but this time I think it's really going to happen.  Between the candy, cookies, remedy's and easy little projects that even I can do, it's going to happen.  After this, our memories will be about time spent together, good food and drinks, and the time we spent, instead of who got what.  It's not a competition and whatever you get someone, the worth should rest in the fact that it's from you instead of what it is.  This checking boxes off of lists stuff has got to stop.  I have grown up, so much so that there is no longer any question.  What a relief.  I think the days of questioning myself are finally over, happily, and it feels really good to know where I stand.  So much of our youth is spent thinking we know what we think and then being slapped right upside the face with a complete and total opposite truth that we just hadn't lived long enough to learn yet.  Young people, this is how people can stand to get old.  It's like a soap opera, we have simply seen it all before.  It's pretty hard to scare us, if you want to know the truth.

I'm done with Christmas being more about presents than it is about Christ.  I'm done with people who say Happy Holidays.  You could say that on Veterans Day!  I'm done spending money I don't have for things people don't want, need, or like.  How much stuff do you need to have before you have "enough" anyway?  That is a question we should all ask ourselves, and if you still feel greedy after that, just think about how much you will have to "maintain" or "dust" this "stuff".   Is it so precious to you that little kids can't be in your house?  Isn't it going to get broken or be obsolete with a few years?  What is the point of that crap anyway? The days when your children are small pass quickly, however hard that may be for you to believe now.  They will remember the times together, messes, blow ups, and all, and they will remember it as the best times of their lives, regardless of the "stuff" they get.  Treasure the days when they like the box better than anything that could be inside, and make sure they hang onto that bit of wisdom that they are here to teach you.

Another Doorway

The Beautiful Redhead's room looks so nice I keep opening up the door just to look at it.  I also laid on her bed in the sun for a couple of hours Sunday talking to her grandmother on the phone.  Tonight I opened it up, looked, and shivered.  The thought in my mind at that exact moment was "You just passed through another doorway", and so I had.

I guess my powers of denial are strong, because The Rock Star left home in 2008 and The Beautiful Redhead in 2010, but until this year on Christmas morning, it had not hit me.  Oh, sure, I "knew" they were gone, but they came back a lot and were always here for holidays.  My rhythm as a mother had not shifted much until this year.

This year we had our Christmas on the Sunday before.  This year my two oldest went back to their homes and worked on Christmas eve.  I was proud that The Beautiful Redhead thought it was sad to see so many people in the mall on Christmas Eve.   This year I got up early as usual on Christmas morning and as I started making coffee it hit me that this year Taylor and Mackenzie were not going to be here.   They would not be at their dad's either.  They were both alone as were we on Christmas day, and the tears just started flowing.   I think I had been holding it off for a while and there was no stopping it now.   It occurred to me that, even worse than this, would be if the twins got up only to discover their mother sobbing (quietly) over the trash can, using a paper towel for a kleenex.  I opened the fridge, grabbed an onion, cleaved it in half, just in case, and then just let it out.  

Some times, when a woman needs to cry, it's better to just do it.  Otherwise, it builds up exactly like pressure cooker and is bound to end badly, at the least convenient time.

As I bawled the voice inside my head kept saying "This is what it is to be a mother" and I realized that she is right.  Of course.  She always is.  We work to make our children self-sufficient and able to build their own lives.  Check that off the list.  Twice.  I swore that I would treasure these last years with the twins at home, even it did mean coming home to discover dirty socks tossed (perhaps shot like rubber bands?) all around the house.  I focused on how proud I am of my older two.  It didn't help much.

The voice said "Would you rather have them unemployed and laying around the house all the time?"  Of course not!  I would want to kill them, all the time.  Much like the twins these days.  I vowed to get those kids moving somehow.

The voice said "You have to be strong.  You don't want to be a burden to them."  No, I would not.  Ever.  This was the real killer.  Children swallow you whole.  At first you resent it and then you just go with it and by the time they leave you are the one stuck in the routine, having forgotten you were ever anything else.  Who cares now?  Not even me!  I tried to look ahead far enough that I could see my grandchildren, but it was too foggy.  I do know it's coming, I've just never been good at patience.

And I realized, as the waterworks slowed down, that when you become a mother, your journey does not stop when the child leaves the house.  I know, I know, this seems obvious if you ever stop to think about it.  I guess I just never did.  Perhaps that was an unconscious decision, or perhaps it was just self preservation.  I doubt I could have been the mother I was if I had realized that it was all going to end and I would end up crying over the trash can, having provided a valid excuse for such behavior, in case, on Christmas morning in 2012!  Some things are better not known.  Probably most things.

Apparently, I have my work cut out for me, now that I understand it clearly.  So I let myself cry, and then I was profusely upbeat the rest of the day.  We made more truffles.  We watched The Christmas Story and Miracle on 34th St. and It's a Wonderful Life.  When I cried, it was always at an appropriate time and always assumed by the twins that I was crying because of the movie, or just because I'm a girl.  They were at least 1/2 right and never guessed the truth, bless them both.  

And I did one more thing.  I planned next year, and it's going to be better.  Next year we are going to plan ahead better, and have extra time, whether it is on the actual day or not.  That way I will be able to feel like they have "been home" and they will be able to sleep late without their mom calling them, not quite crying, and saying how much she misses them and is not liking this not having her babies home on Christmas morning.  Next year we are all making candy and cookies together and pigging out and giving some of all of them away.  Next year we are taking lots of pictures, even if we all look like hell-fire.  Next year we will have time to eat and be lazy and laugh.  Next year I won't be sad. 

Ha.  Gotcha! Of course I will be sad.  Probably forever, from now on.  But that's part of being a mom and raising successful kids.  I freely admit I'm pretty good at denial but this was a doorway that was big enough to be considered a tunnel, and it's very windy here on the other side.  Every single person I have talked about this with said "I think back to how many times I did that to my mother...." and was sorry.  It was the same with me.  I repented of sins I hadn't even remembered over the trash can that morning.   So that's something, anyway.  I guess we just keep living and learning and sheltering ourselves from hard truths as long as possible and then dealing with them.

So that was the low for Christmas this year.  The high will follow on the next post.  We really did have a good time, even if it was spread out a little and none of it fell on the actual days.

So my journey continues.  The harder I try to see the doorways the more wrinkles I get, but I always know when I have passed beneath one.   If you suddenly shiver when you are not cold, you probably just did that yourself.  Sometimes it seems like time is a film that you can't turn off.  You open a door expecting to see dirty clothes and glitter strung all around and all that is really there is an empty room, waiting for someone to come in and live again.   Dealing with Mackenzie's room was just another phase in life that I had to face.  So check that off the list too.  The list doesn't seem to get any shorter, and for that I am thankful.  I really don't know what else to do anymore, anyway.