“I’m trying to find myself again. I’ve lost sight of who I was over the last 6 years. I’ve been a mom and a wife, but have almost ceased to exist as Amanda.
I’ve missed myself.
I used to wear make up and do my hair before leaving the house. I used to dress nice. I loved my music. I loved being with friends.
Since having children, hair, make up, clothes, music, people outside my immediate circle, have all fallen to the sidelines.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mom and a wife and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but I also loved being me.
So, here I am, re-emerging little by little.”
I got much more of a response than I would have thought. Losing oneself in the role of motherhood is much more commonplace than I thought. It’s definitely easy to do. Going from one task to the next, one day to the next. We give of ourselves unconditionally, no holds barred on a daily basis.
It has taken me a little while to come to terms with this. To be able to admit that I wasn’t wholly myself. I was missing a vital piece of who I was. I didn’t forget, I just got lost. I thought I had to give up on that stuff. I was a mom. Moms don’t dye their hair funky colors, or listen grown up music. Forget nice clothes, unless you are a working mom, they will just get pooed on, peed on, spit up on, a muddy hand print in the middle of your butt.
I was wrong. We can have that balance. We can still be us while taking care of our families. Sure, having beautifully coiffed hair and make-up may not be a daily thing, but I would definitely likely it to happen several times a week. I want to feel good about myself on the outside as well as on the inside. I’m tired of looking frumpy all the time.
I’m lying here,
In the hotel bed. Squished Snuggled between two of my children.
I’m so incredibly tired,
I should be sleeping.
Instead, I relish in the quiet.
The only sounds are the fan,
And the quiet breathing of my littles.
I should be sleeping,
But the quiet is so enjoyable.
I started cleaning a house once a week. The boys stay with my mother-in-law, aka Grandma, while I clean. I got called back to WIC for the Peer Counselor position! I am very excited about this job. I won’t start for a little while yet though. I have also really started the process to become a LLL leader.
K is still working at the Montessori School and loves it.
The boys have been crazy 😉
Peanut’s vocabulary has been growing in leaps and bounds.
Munchkin has been very clingy yet very independent at the same time. It is rather frustrating. When we need him to do something like get dressed, he won’t and wants help. When we don’t need his help, that is when he wants to.
Georgia, one of the golden comets, went missing a few nights ago. We thought she was a goner as she still hadn’t turned up the next day. We went to a big flea market and ended up getting a couple more golden comets/red sex link to replace her. I like getting them in pairs so they have a friend while they adjust. Well, when we got home, guess who was standing in the middle of the yard? Yup, Georgia. She was a little sniffly and limping on her left foot. I kept her in the kitchen for about 24 hours and then brought her back outside yesterday afternoon. She seems ok aside from the limp. I am keeping an eye on her foot to make sure she doesn’t develop bumble foot.
K fell in love with a California Rabbit while we were at the flea market. I told her as long as she was taking care of him, I didn’t care if she got him. So now we have Bandit the Rabbit living with us as well.
Tonight, as I once again let my frustrations get the better of me because of Munchkin’s inability to go to sleep, I took a breath and remembered to think of the positives, the silver lining, the reasons I am a mother.
I am grateful that Munchkin loves his little brother so much, that he risks waking him up to climb up in bed and snuggle up with him.
I am grateful that I am able to be here with my children.
I am grateful that my children are here with me.
I am grateful that they are healthy.
I am grateful that I can put them to bed each night.
I am grateful that I get to see their smiling faces and hear their laughter and squeals of delight each and every day.
I am grateful that they have lots of toys to play with and spur their imaginations, even as I put them away each night.
I am grateful that they have lots of clothes to wear, even as I wash, fold and put away laundry daily.
I am grateful to have food for them, even though most of I what I cook ends up in the dog’s stomach. ( I know he is grateful for this as well!)
I love my children more than anything in this and any other universe. I am grateful to be their mother. I am grateful that I get the pleasure of loving them and having them in my life each and every day. No matter how difficult a particular day may be.
I started this blog in August with the hopes of writing out all of my and my family’s doings. Obviously life ended up getting in the way of my sitting down to write. So, here I am ready to try again.
There are so many choices available to you when it comes to raising your children. My biggest choice now is schooling. I know my son is only 13 months old, but this is something that takes great thought and planning in my opinion. Do you send them to school or do you home school. If you send them to school, what type of school do you send them to. If you home school, which way do you go about it. Until you dive in and start looking, you don’t realize how many choices you actually have.
My husband and I decided before Munchkin was born that we would be home schooling. Watching the news daily and seeing all the horrible things that can happen scared us. Between the possibliity of having horrible teachers, who just should not be teaching children; to the peer pressure; to the rudeness that kids seem to have developed or perhaps has always been there, I just didn’t notice it before. Then you have the standardized learning. Nothing is left open for discussion or interpretation. Children are told how and what to think. There is no room for them to form their own opinions of anything anymore. Everything is tailored to taking a test. If a child does not learn well by whatever method is being used, they are labeled with some sort of disability or as a trouble maker. So, we decided not to send our son to school.
Now comes the decision on how to home school. There are different curriculums, methods, ideas. The one that has stood out to me though is “Unschooling” or Life Learning. I do believe that this is the way my husband and I are going to go. There is no curriculum. It follows your child and wherever their interests lead. I believe this type of learning will work well for us. Connor all ready is very strong-willed and wants to follow his own path. He is independent, but does want us nearby for help when he needs it. If he is anything like my husband, which I believe he will be, a structured school environment will definitely not be the right learning path for him. My husband is very smart, but never finished high school. He had problems with school starting at the beginning in Kindergarten. He had to change schools a few times because he got kicked out. It was just not the right learning path for him.
So this is where we are now. I am researching “Unschooling”. I have joined a few online groups to lurk on and read as much as I can from the experienced and inexperienced as they make their journey through learning. I will be ordering a few books to read with my husband. Hopefully soon, we will be able to make a decision on this.
My name is Amanda and welcome to my world. I am fairly new to it myself. I had always envisioned myself as a stay at home mom, but had never thought the day would actually arrive. It seems every new stage of my life was just this surreal incident that I never imagined would happen. When you are in school, you think graduation is so far away and will never actually happen. Then it does. The real world starts and you can’t believe that you have actually made it this far. The times when you were riding your bike and playing tag with the neighborhood kids seem like they were just yesterday and you couldn’t wait to grow up. Then you have a real job. You finally meet the love of your life
(again) This time the puzzle pieces fit together perfectly though. You get married, move in, start a life together. That life(in my case) includes baby. A baby who arrived at 9:05 am on a cold, but sunny December 23rd in 2008. A little one who could not wait to join the world. This is where the story really begins. Not 27 years earlier when I was born. Not 29 years earlier when my husband was born. Life truly began on Tuesday, December 23, 2008 at 9:05am.
Here is that story:
It was 3am and I was up yet again for another trip to the toilet. The baby knew just where to sit to make my bladder feel as if it were going to explode. Of course there would be only a small trickle though. I waddled back to bed. Sat on the bed so that I could then get each leg up and lie down. This time, however when I sat down, there was a small gush of warm liquid. Up I jumped, well I guess what you can call jumping for a woman who was 38 weeks pregnant, and went back to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and waited. Nothing. Hmmm. Got up, changed my underwear. No sooner had I done that, I had another small gush. Ok. It was official. I was pretty sure my water had just broke. It wasn’t the bucketful you see in movies, but enough too make me change my underwear three times. I start smiling and giggling (I do when I am nervous)and wake up my husband. He looks at me bleary eyed and asks if I have had my bloody show. No. His reply, I have a little while then, and rolls back over to sleep. I make him get up. We haven’t packed. The carseat still isn’t in the car. I am not sitting through contractions by myself. I call the OB’s office and tell the answering service that my water broke. A few minutes later a nurse from the hospital calls and tells me we can head on down. I tell the nurse I am only experiencing minimal discomfort. She says okay and tells me to take my time and head in when I’m ready. I call my best friend and let her know. I go across the hall and knock on my sister T’s door to let her and her girlfriend know. Her girlfriend thought I was kidding because of my giggling. I then go downstairs and wake up my other sister, K, who is up visiting from school in TN. I start packing and my husband goes out to the blazer to try and get the carseat situated.
As 5:30am rolls around I am starting to get quite uncomfortable. My husband is irritated. He can’t get the big convertable car seat into the the blazer. I tell him we have to go. We hope we haven’t forgotten anything and head to the car. My youngest sister, K and my sister T’s girlfriend come with us. My husband wants to stop for coffee. I ask if it can wait. Sitting in the car is incredibly uncomfortable. Luckily the hospital is only 20 minutes away. We get to the hospital at about 6am. We check in and start to make our way up to the maternity ward. I’m waddling as fast as I can. We get to the elevator and push the button. We wait. We push the button again. Elevator isn’t working. At this point I am dancing around in the hallway. Luckily a couple of hospital staff members round the corner and direct us to another set of elevators. These ones work.
We get to the maternity ward and I tell the nurse my water broke. She asked if it was a gush or if I had had my bloody show. I said no to both those questions. She told me that water probably hadn’t broken then. I was positive it had though. We make sure to ask to get the room with the jacuzzi. I want to be able to take advantage of that perk. I change into the gown and a nurse examines me. She says it will probably be a while because when your water breaks, its usually a lot of fluid. I say ok. I am 3cm dilated. We discuss if I want medication. I say I want to try going natural. The contractions start coming quick and hard. I start vomiting every time I have a contraction. They recommend an epidural, several times. I really didn’t want to get one, so I try to say no. The nurses keep pushing for it. Finally I give in. Gettng an epidural hurts. The nurse asks me how a contraction was. I had a contraction? She says good. I think it is about 7:30am at this point. I realize I have to pee, but the nurse tells me I can’t get up. Why didn’t she tell me this before? Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly when they pushed the epidural on me. The nurse catheterizes me and I absolutely hate it. It is really uncomfortable. It does not make me feel better. At about 8:40 I start having the incredible urge to push. No one tells you about this part, but it feels like you are trying poop out a bowling ball! I am trying to resist. The nurse tells me to let her know when the feeling is constant and leaves the room! My best friend is in the hallway searching for her because the feeling was all ready pretty much constant. The nurse comes back and examines me. I am 10cm and the baby is coming now! The dr barely has enough time to pull on his boots and surgery gown. He seems pretty grumpy about the whole situation. The time is now 8:57am. I don’t yell and scream. I squeak and say I can’t do it. I keep squeaking and pushing. The Dr proceeds to give me an episiotomy without asking or mentioning it. I push out my amazingly perfect little boy at 9:05am. He is 19 1/2 inches long and 7 lbs 7 oz. Ten fingers and 10 toes. And growling. He doesn’t cry. He growls at us. This is the moment my life begins.