Motherhood is all about sacrifice. For centuries mothers have been giving up what they want and need in order to accommodate the more pressing demands of their children. We give up sleep, leisurely meals, perky breasts, time, energy, you name it. We happily give it all up to raise these beautiful little creatures and have them prosper and grow into their oversized personalities.
For the past five years I have been working every weekend in order to be able to be home during the week with my kids and avoid paying drastically for child care. My kids see more of me and I don't have to worry about who is caring for them on which day. I have sacrificed many a party, girls' night, dinner out, and basically most other regular event that happens on a weekend. I get the occasional weekend off, savoring every minute of it when I'm not rushing to make the most of it. Now that my oldest is in second grade, I miss out on his life most of all. He's at school all week while I'm home, and I spend most of the day sleeping when he's home on the weekends. It's lame, but it works for our family right now.
Next week I am doing something that is totally radical in the world of motherhood: I am going on vacation by myself. That's right, I said it. No husband, no kids, just girlfriends for five days in Florida. The opposite of sacrifice. Next week I am giving myself a well earned break from the chaos and taking a little sacrifice back. Feels totally reckless as I have never done anything like it before. I travel a lot, but I always take my kids with me. This year I had very little money, but airline miles I could only use myself. Hmmm, what to do?
Ignoring the waves of panic that wash over me at night (How will they be OK without me? Will I be able to will our plane to stay in the air and make it to the other side? Will the house crumble into dust from neglect or be condemned from filth when I return? Am I traumatizing them by taking myself away for so long?) I soldier on because I am downright psyched about this trip. We are staying on a houseboat (is there anything cooler than that?) and planning to fill our days with beach, snorkels, and tropical cocktails. My goal is to relax enough for the next seven years until I get another vacation like it.
I am nervous about it because I am trained to sacrifice. It feels wrong to do something that is just for me. I'm not sure how that guilt was ingrained into me, but here it is. Wherever I go, this invisible umbilical cord has me attached to my children and I can't help but worry about where they are when they aren't with me. I think this feeling may never dissipate, and that it may be the permanent connection that makes motherhood such a powerful force.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
The Screen Free Challenge
This week Francisco propositioned Nathan with a challenge he couldn't refuse. We seem to be raising a house full of gamblers, because we can't help but place wagers on many of life's daily activities. This week's challenge: Give up the screen.
Francisco bet Nathan fifty dollars that he couldn't go one month without screen time. That includes TV, video games, computer, or the beloved parental iPhone. I quickly joined in on this challenge, as I spend most of my day squawking at someone to "turn that damn thing off!" I added fifty dollars of my own, and for Nay the bet was sealed. If he can go until March 3rd without watching anything, he'll get a whopping hundred bucks. Woah.
It's been two days and Nathan is like a tiny alcoholic. "Mom, this is really hard! Does YouTube count? Does it count as a screen if we are in New Jersey?" He's steadfast in his desire to earn such a massive sum of money for his seven year old pockets, so he has yet to break down, and I keep reminding him that the first week will probably be the hardest. This is the first time that he has voluntarily given up his precious screens. I have often cut him off for a week or two at a time, to bring us back to reality and keep him from becoming too glazed over, but somehow this is very different. There is no reminding, threatening, or sneaking around. He truly just wants to win this challenge.
I have been impressed with how many books he has already plowed through, how his week's worth of homework was completed in one night, and how we have done enough science experiments to write a book. It's slightly painful to have to wake up as early as he does (he used to sneak downstairs and watch TV before I was even conscious), but I like having his full attention and interest back. I hope he can persevere to win the money, and I really hope this makes a change for our family in the long run. I'll let you know.
Francisco bet Nathan fifty dollars that he couldn't go one month without screen time. That includes TV, video games, computer, or the beloved parental iPhone. I quickly joined in on this challenge, as I spend most of my day squawking at someone to "turn that damn thing off!" I added fifty dollars of my own, and for Nay the bet was sealed. If he can go until March 3rd without watching anything, he'll get a whopping hundred bucks. Woah.
It's been two days and Nathan is like a tiny alcoholic. "Mom, this is really hard! Does YouTube count? Does it count as a screen if we are in New Jersey?" He's steadfast in his desire to earn such a massive sum of money for his seven year old pockets, so he has yet to break down, and I keep reminding him that the first week will probably be the hardest. This is the first time that he has voluntarily given up his precious screens. I have often cut him off for a week or two at a time, to bring us back to reality and keep him from becoming too glazed over, but somehow this is very different. There is no reminding, threatening, or sneaking around. He truly just wants to win this challenge.
I have been impressed with how many books he has already plowed through, how his week's worth of homework was completed in one night, and how we have done enough science experiments to write a book. It's slightly painful to have to wake up as early as he does (he used to sneak downstairs and watch TV before I was even conscious), but I like having his full attention and interest back. I hope he can persevere to win the money, and I really hope this makes a change for our family in the long run. I'll let you know.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Dental Shame
Today is the first (of many) appointments for Sofie to see her pediatric dentist to correct a problem that apparently has been going on for some time unbeknownst to me: her rotten teeth.
If you want to feel like a bad parent try taking your four year old to the dentist, only to find out that more than half of their teeth have melted away with decay. Apparently this is something I should have recognized ages ago, and how could I have waited so long to address this massive dilemma?
Wait. Back up. Hold the phone with your holy-hygienist guilt trip. Aren't these teeth supposed to fall out? Aren't these the set that kids are given so that when their parents don't notice the dark holes appearing in the nether regions of their mouths we can try again with a fresh set of bigger, stronger teeth? I am confused (while still feeling downright shameful that this has happened to MY child, I can't help it, mother guilt is the strongest emotion known to man).
Francisco was more horrified to hear about the $2000 price tag that accompanies Sofie's lengthy dental procedures (and yes, that's WITH the dental insurance) than he was to hear about the teeth themselves. He figures this is the practice run. "No one in MY country ever had these baby teeth fixed, and the people still seem to grow new teeth. We eat fine! What's the problem?" But this from the man who had two of his molars yanked out instead of filled when they bothered him. Not sure he's qualified to make this decision either.
She has to go this morning for fillings, caps, and laughing gas, and then five more times to address all of the many damaged teeth. I don't know if this is warranted, I am not a dentist, but merely a horrified parent who will believe pretty much anything these people tell me. At the same time I am torn between the medical lectures and "how could you"s and the pull of not wanting to put her through this and the strain of our already thin-stretched pockets.
There should be a manual for this kind of thing. How the hell is any parent supposed to know what to do? We brush regularly, don't sleep with bottles of apple juice, what more do you want from me? I am reminded of my mother being lectured by a well known asshole dentist in my town more than 25 years ago when my brother and I each had a mouthful of cavities. The dental shame is apparently passed on through the generations.
If you want to feel like a bad parent try taking your four year old to the dentist, only to find out that more than half of their teeth have melted away with decay. Apparently this is something I should have recognized ages ago, and how could I have waited so long to address this massive dilemma?
Wait. Back up. Hold the phone with your holy-hygienist guilt trip. Aren't these teeth supposed to fall out? Aren't these the set that kids are given so that when their parents don't notice the dark holes appearing in the nether regions of their mouths we can try again with a fresh set of bigger, stronger teeth? I am confused (while still feeling downright shameful that this has happened to MY child, I can't help it, mother guilt is the strongest emotion known to man).
Francisco was more horrified to hear about the $2000 price tag that accompanies Sofie's lengthy dental procedures (and yes, that's WITH the dental insurance) than he was to hear about the teeth themselves. He figures this is the practice run. "No one in MY country ever had these baby teeth fixed, and the people still seem to grow new teeth. We eat fine! What's the problem?" But this from the man who had two of his molars yanked out instead of filled when they bothered him. Not sure he's qualified to make this decision either.
She has to go this morning for fillings, caps, and laughing gas, and then five more times to address all of the many damaged teeth. I don't know if this is warranted, I am not a dentist, but merely a horrified parent who will believe pretty much anything these people tell me. At the same time I am torn between the medical lectures and "how could you"s and the pull of not wanting to put her through this and the strain of our already thin-stretched pockets.
There should be a manual for this kind of thing. How the hell is any parent supposed to know what to do? We brush regularly, don't sleep with bottles of apple juice, what more do you want from me? I am reminded of my mother being lectured by a well known asshole dentist in my town more than 25 years ago when my brother and I each had a mouthful of cavities. The dental shame is apparently passed on through the generations.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Frosty Nose Hair
Well, it's Monday morning and once again my housekeeper did not show up. Right, that's because I don't have a housekeeper. Damn. I guess the place will just have to remain disgusting for a few more days until I summon up the mojo to dig my way through the crap and find the floors. Whatever.
This morning as I soldiered outside through the cold to feed the chickens and my nose hair glossed over with ice, I thought dreamy January thoughts of tropical weather and escaping the doldrums of New England winter. Let's face it, I think about this every minute of every day until I see the first signs of spring. I can't envision a winter where I don't dream about escape. That just wouldn't be me.
Even the pets are suffering this winter. Our older cat, MiniMe, has completely given up going outside, and has taken to using the kitten's litter box instead. Disgusting. I am becoming somewhat resentful, but I try to be empathetic and rationalize the fact that I would not like to crap outside in the cold any more than she does. But still, first thaw and that box is history. Polly, our loyal canine, is rapidly widening around the haunches and looking at me with pleading eyes to take her on a walk. I feel like a bad dog mama but really, when it's 2 degrees outside that is probably not going to happen. Maybe later today when it warms up to a balmy 25.
Francisco and I are in desperate need of a wood stove. Becoming homeowners has opened our eyes to the shocking revelation that oil is expensive and winter is freaking cold! First item on the tax return agenda: install cozy stove to warm our feet and snuggle by at night. Not sure how doable this is on a budget, but it must happen.
Until then I will keep burning the oil and shedding a tear each time my checkbook groans from the bill. I keep it low, bundle up in sweaters, and try to remember that winter doesn't last forever. Ugh.
This morning as I soldiered outside through the cold to feed the chickens and my nose hair glossed over with ice, I thought dreamy January thoughts of tropical weather and escaping the doldrums of New England winter. Let's face it, I think about this every minute of every day until I see the first signs of spring. I can't envision a winter where I don't dream about escape. That just wouldn't be me.
Even the pets are suffering this winter. Our older cat, MiniMe, has completely given up going outside, and has taken to using the kitten's litter box instead. Disgusting. I am becoming somewhat resentful, but I try to be empathetic and rationalize the fact that I would not like to crap outside in the cold any more than she does. But still, first thaw and that box is history. Polly, our loyal canine, is rapidly widening around the haunches and looking at me with pleading eyes to take her on a walk. I feel like a bad dog mama but really, when it's 2 degrees outside that is probably not going to happen. Maybe later today when it warms up to a balmy 25.
Francisco and I are in desperate need of a wood stove. Becoming homeowners has opened our eyes to the shocking revelation that oil is expensive and winter is freaking cold! First item on the tax return agenda: install cozy stove to warm our feet and snuggle by at night. Not sure how doable this is on a budget, but it must happen.
Until then I will keep burning the oil and shedding a tear each time my checkbook groans from the bill. I keep it low, bundle up in sweaters, and try to remember that winter doesn't last forever. Ugh.
Friday, January 4, 2013
A Very Unrewarding Job
Motherhood has plenty of rewards. Even when I'm sloshing through a whiny temper tantrum, or bleary eyed from middle of the night fevers, being a mother pays off every day. Just look at their smiles when you pick them up at school, or the way they drape their arms over me when I read them a story. Little beautiful joys.
But what isn't rewarding? Being the housewife. Even though I am a working mother, I spend most of my week home, caring for this house and my family, making most of the meals, and cleaning up after what feels like a small army every freaking day, only to have the mess reappear as if by magic overnight. The most obnoxious thing about this tiring routine: Dinnertime.
Every day I debate what to feed the family. What will make them eat heartily and give them the nutrients they need. I am coming to realize that this is the impossible dream. I am not a bad cook, if I do say so myself. Sometimes there are dishes that fail, this is true for most of us, but for the most part I know my way around the kitchen. I use fresh ingredients, make most things from scratch, and pay attention as I go, and I enjoy cooking, I put love in every bite.
So why then is it impossible to make a meal that everyone in my family will eat and say "Mmmmm, this is really good!" The bastards won't say this. Someone (including my spouse) will whine that something is wrong with it, there is always a reason why I am prodding them to eat a few more bites. So obnoxious and super unrewarding. All of my hard work driven down to me poking and screeching to make sure that this delicious food doesn't end up in the compost. Grrrr.
I need a strategy to deal with this annoyance. I am thinking about an all out boycott on the kitchen, going on strike. Or maybe I should just make them cook (as I threatened Sofie last night when she wouldn't eat her beautiful chicken stew). Whatever it is, this is certainly not working for me, and I'm ready to quit. Suggestions welcome...
But what isn't rewarding? Being the housewife. Even though I am a working mother, I spend most of my week home, caring for this house and my family, making most of the meals, and cleaning up after what feels like a small army every freaking day, only to have the mess reappear as if by magic overnight. The most obnoxious thing about this tiring routine: Dinnertime.
Every day I debate what to feed the family. What will make them eat heartily and give them the nutrients they need. I am coming to realize that this is the impossible dream. I am not a bad cook, if I do say so myself. Sometimes there are dishes that fail, this is true for most of us, but for the most part I know my way around the kitchen. I use fresh ingredients, make most things from scratch, and pay attention as I go, and I enjoy cooking, I put love in every bite.
So why then is it impossible to make a meal that everyone in my family will eat and say "Mmmmm, this is really good!" The bastards won't say this. Someone (including my spouse) will whine that something is wrong with it, there is always a reason why I am prodding them to eat a few more bites. So obnoxious and super unrewarding. All of my hard work driven down to me poking and screeching to make sure that this delicious food doesn't end up in the compost. Grrrr.
I need a strategy to deal with this annoyance. I am thinking about an all out boycott on the kitchen, going on strike. Or maybe I should just make them cook (as I threatened Sofie last night when she wouldn't eat her beautiful chicken stew). Whatever it is, this is certainly not working for me, and I'm ready to quit. Suggestions welcome...
Thursday, January 3, 2013
A Day for Baking Bread
My first blog post from my new adorable computer. It took me a while to decide whether or not I liked this thing, it's tiny sleekness and internet-only capabilities threw me for a loop, what if I need to do more? The reality is that I don't, this little machine does everything I ever do with a computer (which isn't much), and has the amazing feature of not needing to boot up or take forever to shut down. Super fast, it just goes where I say, when I say. I wish it could train my children to do that. It's pretty awesome.
But enough about that. Today is a bread baking day. I have been trying out all sorts of breads for the past couple of months, and have decided that there is nothing so satisfying as taking a hot, fresh, loaf out of the oven, buttering it up and serving it to your family (or more likely yourself). Here's what I'm making today:
Whole wheat flax no kneed artisan bread. My friend Jen gave me this recipe, and I tried it yesterday but I think I got the proportions wrong because it was super salty (which was not totally unpleasant, but thoroughly rejected by the peanut gallery). So I am making it again today, and hoping it turns out better.
Here it is, baking up and smelling really amazing. Recipe is pretty simple, for today I just added:
3 cups hot water
3 cups white flour
3 cups whole wheat flour
2 tablespoons ground flax seed
1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon sugar
I proofed the yeast with the salt in the hot water in the bowl of my kitchen aid mixer, then added the flour and flax seed and mixed with the dough hook until a very sticky dough formed. Then I covered tightly with plastic wrap and let it rise for 2 hours, formed two balls of sticky dough (put one in the fridge for another time), and baked at 450 degrees for about 20 minutes. Not bad, and practically no work at all. I have had better breads but I love the simplicity of this one.
Next on to cinnamon bread to make the kitchen smell outstanding. Today I am trying a recipe I found on someone else's blog:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/08/homemade-cinnamon-bread/
Definitely can't wait to see how this one comes out, looks beautiful from the pictures, but I always wonder, can my culinary abilities match up? I'll let you know...
But enough about that. Today is a bread baking day. I have been trying out all sorts of breads for the past couple of months, and have decided that there is nothing so satisfying as taking a hot, fresh, loaf out of the oven, buttering it up and serving it to your family (or more likely yourself). Here's what I'm making today:
Whole wheat flax no kneed artisan bread. My friend Jen gave me this recipe, and I tried it yesterday but I think I got the proportions wrong because it was super salty (which was not totally unpleasant, but thoroughly rejected by the peanut gallery). So I am making it again today, and hoping it turns out better.
Here it is, baking up and smelling really amazing. Recipe is pretty simple, for today I just added:
3 cups hot water
3 cups white flour
3 cups whole wheat flour
2 tablespoons ground flax seed
1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 tablespoon sugar
I proofed the yeast with the salt in the hot water in the bowl of my kitchen aid mixer, then added the flour and flax seed and mixed with the dough hook until a very sticky dough formed. Then I covered tightly with plastic wrap and let it rise for 2 hours, formed two balls of sticky dough (put one in the fridge for another time), and baked at 450 degrees for about 20 minutes. Not bad, and practically no work at all. I have had better breads but I love the simplicity of this one.
Next on to cinnamon bread to make the kitchen smell outstanding. Today I am trying a recipe I found on someone else's blog:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/08/homemade-cinnamon-bread/
Definitely can't wait to see how this one comes out, looks beautiful from the pictures, but I always wonder, can my culinary abilities match up? I'll let you know...
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Christmas Chaos Behind Us
Well, once again, Christmas has come and gone in the blink of an eye. So much build up it is almost impossible not to feel disappointed when this magical day melts away. Not so much magic for me this year, mostly work, although I did enjoy myself for the most part.
Christmas morning felt more rushed and harried than it has in a long time. I don't know what happened but I think I was too tired and lost my bossy mojo, and the people ripped open their gifts in about 20 minutes and then it was done. I couldn't get it together to make breakfast as I usually do, but just went back to bed around noon. The rest of the day felt disorganized and weird, cumulating with a welcomed trip to the movies this evening, and then off to work the overnight shift. Kind of scattered and chaotic, which is not how we normally roll.
I think it is the adjustment to having our holidays in our new house, the routine is off. It was all fine, but somehow I didn't have the same contented feeling I usually have after Christmas. This year I just secretly wanted it to be over. Maybe I'm just getting older and this is what my parents experienced. Bummer.
I did get a stunning new computer, and some beautiful coffee mugs, which I am very grateful for. My children were happy, albeit exhausted and a little crazy. I am just thinking that maybe next year we should opt for the Caribbean instead.
Christmas morning felt more rushed and harried than it has in a long time. I don't know what happened but I think I was too tired and lost my bossy mojo, and the people ripped open their gifts in about 20 minutes and then it was done. I couldn't get it together to make breakfast as I usually do, but just went back to bed around noon. The rest of the day felt disorganized and weird, cumulating with a welcomed trip to the movies this evening, and then off to work the overnight shift. Kind of scattered and chaotic, which is not how we normally roll.
I think it is the adjustment to having our holidays in our new house, the routine is off. It was all fine, but somehow I didn't have the same contented feeling I usually have after Christmas. This year I just secretly wanted it to be over. Maybe I'm just getting older and this is what my parents experienced. Bummer.
I did get a stunning new computer, and some beautiful coffee mugs, which I am very grateful for. My children were happy, albeit exhausted and a little crazy. I am just thinking that maybe next year we should opt for the Caribbean instead.
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