I thought I've had a pretty good handle on things that have been going on lately in my life. Boy, was I wrong! Today I feel completely incapable of dealing with a minor thing, and I'm wondering how the hell I can get through the big stuff, when something little sets me into a crying jag... Where to begin? How about the events of the summer?
In the last three months, I:
* made the difficult decision to return to work outside the home.
* started a new job I wasn't really crazy about.
* sent my thirteen year old to Army Cadet Camp in New Brunswick for six weeks.
* found out I need to have a hysterectomy.
* quit new job.
* had to let my ex have my ten year old daughter for the month of July. He involved his lawyer.
* visited my parents and grandparents in Nova Scotia. (they're not all bad things!)
* did not receive child support payment. Had to deal with ex again.
* returned to Nova Scotia for my grandfather's funeral.
* had to deal with ex again, this time about buying school supplies. Involved his lawyer again.
* drove my four year old to his first day of school (Montessori- he loves it)
*watched the bus take my daughter to grade five and my son to his last year of Jr. High.
* started new job that I absolutely LOVE!
* took daughter to Dr., saw a teacher there, discovered daughter has Ringworm but is OK to be at school.
* dealt with teacher questioning daughter on reason for Dr. visit, making daughter tell other teacher, which made daughter feel humiliated and embarrased.
OK. I dealt with all the above and the things that surround them. I cried, I bitched, I did whatever I needed to do to help me cope, and I dealt with them all and got on to the next thing. EXCEPT this one:
* was informed by husband today that we were giving Connor's jogging stroller to someone TOMORROW.
Compared to everything on the list, this is SO minor. Not even a blip on the radar. But I haven't been able to stop the feelings of sadness that are crashing over me and I'm not sure why I'm feeling as if my husband is asking me to give away a part of myself. I mean, it's a STROLLER!! I haven't used it since May because of work and the heat of the summer. I should be happy to get rid of it, right? Free up some space? I got rid of the crib and some other baby stuff - why not the stroller?
I'm trying to sort through all this in my head. Is it about the actual stroller or that One Last Thing, the proverbial "Straw"? The fact that two months ago he told this girl she could have it before he spoke to me about it first? The fact that he first mentioned it to me IN FRONT OF HER later that day?
Is it the fact that I told him later that I felt he put me on the spot and I wasn't ready to part with it, that I still do use it for the long walks? Or is it because it is the very first thing we bought for our son when he was two months old, that it was a birthday present to me?
Is it because I have four years of memories of Connor in that stroller, and because it can hold kids up to 60lb, I thought I would have it longer?
Am I upset because I thought that two months ago he was going to set things right, explain that he spoke before he discussed it with me and that I wasn't all right with giving it up just yet? Or am I upset because he hasn't done this, and he cannot figure out WHY I'm upset about it, so now I'm feeling as if he's heard my words but hasn't listened to my heart.
I'm upset about all of these. I wasn't ready. I'm NOT ready. I still planned to use it. I love going for long walks with Connor on crisp fall days. I'm truly in a tailspin. After all I had to face this summer, I never thought that something like a stroller could set me into such a state. As I was leaving the house to come write this, he was in the kitchen getting it cleaned up a little. I couldn't talk to him as I was leaving, and he couldn't understand.
Once I got here, and sat for a minute, I realized that it IS more than just a stroller. It is my solace. Had the day been nice today, I would've put Connor in the stroller and walked. I walk to calm my mind. I walked to ease my depression in the early days of new motherhood. I walked with Connor to hear first his excited babbles, later to lull him to sleep, and now to enjoy his budding curiosity, his questions and comments of the world we pass by. I have always felt that I would pass it on when I no longer feel a need for it, and to someone who I am close to. It has meaning to me, and even though it may seem silly, it does hold a tremendous amount of sentimental value. His crib? Given to us. Connor slept with us 90% of the time anyways. Maybe that's why I could part with it without a second thought. But this damn stroller... I know it's only a stroller and not my actual child, but still...
Is it normal to feel this way about an object? Is this just the icing on the cake of a mostly miserable summer? I know that I've had a lot of stuff going on in the last three months, a lot of big changes. Is it a Mom Thing to not want to part with the baby things until you're ready? Is this my wake-up call, that I haven't dealt with things at all if I can't cope with this? Should I talk to my doctor? Should I just suck it up and deal with this too? Let's hear your thoughts...
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I Spy
The twilight had finally fallen and Connor was giggling in that excited way only four year olds seem to know how to do.
Earlier that evening, he and his Daddy had set up the tent in the back yard. It was going to be their first camp out together. I had watched, silently amused as he made the many trips up and down the stairs to gather all the important things necessary for his night of camping. There was “Lion Keekee” of course, his beloved and tattered flannel receiving blanket from babyhood. There was also “Sunshine Keekee”, a newer blanket sometimes used when Lion was in the wash, a teddy simply named “Bear”, his pillow, and a little green striped fleece cushion he lovingly calls “Pidda”.
Once the tent was filled and the bonfire had been started, Connor came into the house to get me. “You have to close your eyes and I will show you my tent,” he instructed as he led me by the hand to the back yard. “And we have a CAMPFIRE!” he exclaimed as he jumped up and down with his arm extended towards the firepit. “Let’s roast some marshmallows!” he said in his best “Let-The Games-Begin” kind of voice.
Once the marshmallow roasting began, he snuggled onto my lap. He had been waving his marshmallow around on an old wire coat hanger that has been straightened, and was not having much luck with this particular one. After I had asked if he wanted me to roast it for him, he gave the wire to me. Now he could concentrate on more important stuff.
“Hey Dad, wanna play I spy?” he asks.
“Sure buddy! You go first.”
“Ok! I spy with my little eye, something that is Shingle-y!” he said, eyeing up the barn roof.
“Umm, the house?” guessed Levi, trying not to chuckle.
“Nope!”
“The barn?”
“Nope!” Connor took the marshmallow that I had roasted for him and was looking at it admiringly.
“Mommy is a good marshmallow roaster, isn’t she Bud?” Levi too had noticed the golden piece of perfection *snicker* that Connor was now biting into. “Hmm…Is it the roof?”
“Yeah, the barn roof!! Yay! You got it!! Your turn now!”
“Ok… I spy with my little eye, something that is white and sticky!” he grinned towards Connor’s marshmallow.
Connor looked down at the marshmallow he was holding.
“Me!” was his immediate reply.
Earlier that evening, he and his Daddy had set up the tent in the back yard. It was going to be their first camp out together. I had watched, silently amused as he made the many trips up and down the stairs to gather all the important things necessary for his night of camping. There was “Lion Keekee” of course, his beloved and tattered flannel receiving blanket from babyhood. There was also “Sunshine Keekee”, a newer blanket sometimes used when Lion was in the wash, a teddy simply named “Bear”, his pillow, and a little green striped fleece cushion he lovingly calls “Pidda”.
Once the tent was filled and the bonfire had been started, Connor came into the house to get me. “You have to close your eyes and I will show you my tent,” he instructed as he led me by the hand to the back yard. “And we have a CAMPFIRE!” he exclaimed as he jumped up and down with his arm extended towards the firepit. “Let’s roast some marshmallows!” he said in his best “Let-The Games-Begin” kind of voice.
Once the marshmallow roasting began, he snuggled onto my lap. He had been waving his marshmallow around on an old wire coat hanger that has been straightened, and was not having much luck with this particular one. After I had asked if he wanted me to roast it for him, he gave the wire to me. Now he could concentrate on more important stuff.
“Hey Dad, wanna play I spy?” he asks.
“Sure buddy! You go first.”
“Ok! I spy with my little eye, something that is Shingle-y!” he said, eyeing up the barn roof.
“Umm, the house?” guessed Levi, trying not to chuckle.
“Nope!”
“The barn?”
“Nope!” Connor took the marshmallow that I had roasted for him and was looking at it admiringly.
“Mommy is a good marshmallow roaster, isn’t she Bud?” Levi too had noticed the golden piece of perfection *snicker* that Connor was now biting into. “Hmm…Is it the roof?”
“Yeah, the barn roof!! Yay! You got it!! Your turn now!”
“Ok… I spy with my little eye, something that is white and sticky!” he grinned towards Connor’s marshmallow.
Connor looked down at the marshmallow he was holding.
“Me!” was his immediate reply.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Flattery Will Get You Everywhere
The hard thing about working from home is the lack of entertainment for the little guy during the time I have to get some work done. It is only at these times he realizes that he even has a mother and will climb on my lap, plead with me to play hockey with him, get him a snack or read him a story. Repeatedly. But if I'm not busy and I ask him? Well, you know how it goes. "No thank you Mama! I just wanna look at stuff with my magnifying glass OK? You can read to me later if you want, OK Mama?"
Sure.
This morning I was sitting at the computer working on a proposal for a new fitness program for the YMCA. Connor had been interrupting me all morning asking for snuggles, would I put on a particular movie, would I play a certain game, or could I get him a snack. After the movie was playing, his granola bar gone, the cup of soy milk emptied and the orange eaten, he came into the room once again and asked for a fruit cup.
"You're not gonna let me get any work done today, are you buddy?" I asked him as we made our way to the cupboard.
"Well, you're very nice Mama!" he beamed at me.
"I am, huh? I still need to get my work done though..." I chuckled.
"And you're very pretty too!" he piped up as I reached for the fruit cups.
"Well!" I laughed. "That's nice of you to say..."
He points a little finger at me and says "Mama? You are loved!"
I laughed again as I scooped him up into my arms and buried my face into his wild hair, breathing in his sweet little boy smell and told him that he too was loved.
Then we sat down and ate our fruit cups, together.
Sure.
This morning I was sitting at the computer working on a proposal for a new fitness program for the YMCA. Connor had been interrupting me all morning asking for snuggles, would I put on a particular movie, would I play a certain game, or could I get him a snack. After the movie was playing, his granola bar gone, the cup of soy milk emptied and the orange eaten, he came into the room once again and asked for a fruit cup.
"You're not gonna let me get any work done today, are you buddy?" I asked him as we made our way to the cupboard.
"Well, you're very nice Mama!" he beamed at me.
"I am, huh? I still need to get my work done though..." I chuckled.
"And you're very pretty too!" he piped up as I reached for the fruit cups.
"Well!" I laughed. "That's nice of you to say..."
He points a little finger at me and says "Mama? You are loved!"
I laughed again as I scooped him up into my arms and buried my face into his wild hair, breathing in his sweet little boy smell and told him that he too was loved.
Then we sat down and ate our fruit cups, together.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Humble Pie
Have you ever noticed how your little angels have an uncanny ability to crack the lid off your composure and you totally bust into hysterical giggles at the most inappropriate moment?
Or how you're having a "my-butt-looks-not-too-bad-in-these-jeans-today" kinda day and they stick that little pin of reality into your bubble of vanity, mid-strut?
Or how they just come out with the most honest of observations (loudly) and you wish the floor would open up and devour you?
Connor is a charmer and he knows it. Little old ladies want to pinch his cheeks and the rest of them always tell him how cute he is. He's got these huge green eyes, long, thick dark lashes and dimples I could drown in. He's so much like his Daddy...
Last week we braved the bitter cold to visit a local department store for some new threads. I had chosen a pair of workout pants and a cute bikini to try on. I was feeling pretty good about my new fitness regime and was quite happy with the results I was seeing in my butt. I pranced towards the fitting rooms, feeling confident that my tush looked better than it had in a long time, and I was having a good hair day too. Connor started flirting with the young lady that was working there. He asked her a ton of questions about everything, and was drawing a crowd of admiring bystanders. (I guess the staff had nothing better to do maybe?) I had one of those "My kid is so cute and smart-I love him to pieces" moments as he and I went into the fitting room.
Still chattering away, he admired himself in the mirror as I tried on the pants. "Uh, Mama? I think you shouldn't get those pants." He lowered his eyes, turned slightly and coyly glanced over one shoulder at himself. "They're too exercise-y! I think that you have a big booty!" I could hear the girls outside giggling at his critique.
Thankful he was at least distracting himself with his own vanity, I ditched the pants and began to try on the bikini over my undies. "Hey Mama! I see your booty crack!" The girls outside were trying not to snicker too loudly. " Uh, Mama? Why do you have a 'shina?"
There was a split second of silence in which I was prepared to explain again the difference between boys and girls, knowing that we were being overheard. The girls were fighting the urge to bust out laughing.
At that exact second, Connor broke wind. Loudly. "Dude! I just farted! Ugh! That's rotten!" he announced proudly as he giggled. The girls outside howled with laughter. I wanted to die.
I made him excuse himself and got dressed to make the walk of shame back out of the fitting room. As I opened the door, some of the girls were still red faced and giggling. "How'd you get along in there?" one asked me, smiling broadly as I handed her the pants and put the bikini in the cart.
"Oh, it was a blast!" I giggled. "Which way to the Humble Pie?"
Or how you're having a "my-butt-looks-not-too-bad-in-these-jeans-today" kinda day and they stick that little pin of reality into your bubble of vanity, mid-strut?
Or how they just come out with the most honest of observations (loudly) and you wish the floor would open up and devour you?
Connor is a charmer and he knows it. Little old ladies want to pinch his cheeks and the rest of them always tell him how cute he is. He's got these huge green eyes, long, thick dark lashes and dimples I could drown in. He's so much like his Daddy...
Last week we braved the bitter cold to visit a local department store for some new threads. I had chosen a pair of workout pants and a cute bikini to try on. I was feeling pretty good about my new fitness regime and was quite happy with the results I was seeing in my butt. I pranced towards the fitting rooms, feeling confident that my tush looked better than it had in a long time, and I was having a good hair day too. Connor started flirting with the young lady that was working there. He asked her a ton of questions about everything, and was drawing a crowd of admiring bystanders. (I guess the staff had nothing better to do maybe?) I had one of those "My kid is so cute and smart-I love him to pieces" moments as he and I went into the fitting room.
Still chattering away, he admired himself in the mirror as I tried on the pants. "Uh, Mama? I think you shouldn't get those pants." He lowered his eyes, turned slightly and coyly glanced over one shoulder at himself. "They're too exercise-y! I think that you have a big booty!" I could hear the girls outside giggling at his critique.
Thankful he was at least distracting himself with his own vanity, I ditched the pants and began to try on the bikini over my undies. "Hey Mama! I see your booty crack!" The girls outside were trying not to snicker too loudly. " Uh, Mama? Why do you have a 'shina?"
There was a split second of silence in which I was prepared to explain again the difference between boys and girls, knowing that we were being overheard. The girls were fighting the urge to bust out laughing.
At that exact second, Connor broke wind. Loudly. "Dude! I just farted! Ugh! That's rotten!" he announced proudly as he giggled. The girls outside howled with laughter. I wanted to die.
I made him excuse himself and got dressed to make the walk of shame back out of the fitting room. As I opened the door, some of the girls were still red faced and giggling. "How'd you get along in there?" one asked me, smiling broadly as I handed her the pants and put the bikini in the cart.
"Oh, it was a blast!" I giggled. "Which way to the Humble Pie?"
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