parenting

The unbalance between teaching and parenting

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.” ~James Baldwin

Every day as a teacher (a kindergarten teacher in a fairly unsafe area of Baltimore, to be exact) there are so many things I wish I could tell the parents of my students.  While I am teaching, I always think that I know better and wish that I could impart my amazing parental wisdom on the parents of my students.  I want to tell them to let their kindergarteners be more autonomous.  Don’t walk them to the classroom.  Let them put away their own stuff.  Don’t hover.  Step back.  Listen to them, but don’t believe everything they say.  Let them be who they are.  And many times, if I have a good relationship with them, I do say these things.

But flash forward to today.  It is my first day of maternity leave and one of the few chances I have ever had to take my child to school.  We live in a “nice” neighborhood.  My kids go to “nice” public schools.  Nothing at all like where I teach.  I feel like I have absolutely nothing to worry about.  And yet, when I had to drop my kindergartener off in the carpool line today, and watch him walk the less than 100 feet to the front of the building, blind panic set in.  He had to turn a corner where I wouldn’t see him.  There are literally 12 teachers at their morning posts.  And all I can think is “what if?”  What if he trips and no one is there to help him? What if someone in line teases him and he gets sad?  What if he gets distracted, doesn’t follow directions, and therefor gets in trouble?  It took every ounce of restraint I had not to park the car and walk to the front of the building to check on him…to wait and hold his hand for the two minutes he was going to be in line before entering the school building.  To give him one more kiss and hug so he knows someone on this planet thinks he’s amazing.

I went to school for child development.  I teach small children how to read and write and complete math problems every day.  I try to instill in them a sense of purpose, a sense of kindness, and the ability to stand up for themselves and the things they know to be right.  I am with them for 7 hours a day, 180 days a year.  And I see how able and capable they are and what wonderful little people and citizens they have become.  I let them run and grow and engage without hovering over them all day.

And yet, that is what I do to my own child.  I hover.  ALL. THE. TIME. Maybe it stems from bad early school experiences for him.  Maybe it stems from him being slightly weird or awkward.  Maybe it stems from me being slightly weird and awkward as a child or not having very close relationships with my parents.  I don’t know.  But what I do know is that I am constantly yelling at my husband for hovering and I do the same thing.  At the park.  At home.  In public.  I know what I should be doing.  I know I should stand back and let him just be “him”.  And yet I don’t.

Within the next few days, baby 3 will be joining us.  There will be less time and attention for my other little ones and I keep having this panicking feeling that I didn’t teach them enough on how to be independent.  On learning to engage with other children.  On what to do if someone teases you.  On how to stick up for yourself.  I worry and worry and worry constantly that I hovered too much and tried to control too much.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s time for me to let go…so they can just be.

IMG_8257

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“People won’t have time for you if you are always angry or complaining.” ~Stephen Hawking

I sit.  I stare at the screen.  I know what I want to write, but I don’t.  I know what I need to say, but the words don’t form.  So instead of making myself, instead of just writing anything at all I shut the laptop and reach for the remote and drown my thoughts in crappy TV.

Lately, it seems, all I feel is angry and bitter.  Towards my family.  Towards my friends.  Towards myself.  Even towards baby #3.   Almost everything makes me hostile.  I have been focusing so much on all the can’ts, and the won’ts, and the shouldn’ts and it’s really been eating me up inside.  I’m 38 weeks pregnant and even after today’s appointment, the baby isn’t ready to come.  I can’t run as fast or as much as I used to and yet all my friends are out there doing it and I feel so resentful toward them.  I shouldn’t be as mean and nasty as I’ve been to so many people around me and yet, I continue to do it every day.  I can’t get a good night sleep so I’m constantly tired and instead of going to bed earlier, I just blame the husband who can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.

Do you ever have those moments where it seems like you are outside your own body watching what’s going on?  That’s what this feels like.  Consciously, I know what I’m doing.  I’m literally screaming at myself to stop or shut up, to bite my tongue or walk away but I just don’t.  Afterward, not only do I feel terrible, but then the guilt sets in and it’s a downward spiral of shame and doubt and self-loathing until the next wave of anger sets in.

I have all these plans.  Big plans.  Colossal plans that I want to begin to see into fruition, but I can’t do anything about them until the baby comes. Everyone around me is moving forward, reaching goals, working towards whatever it is that they want to achieve, and here I am stuck.  I feel like I can’t do anything; make changes, move forward, anything, until this baby is born.

I’m sitting still and I hate sitting still.

I need to do something. The waiting place is a hard place to be.  But I don’t have to make it harder.

IMG_8438

Yesterday was a good day.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Running is like life, it’s a long journey, but well worth it.” ~Unknown

I needed yesterday. More than you know.

I woke up at 3:30 in the morning with the lovely pregnancy insomnia that has plagued me for weeks. It was also our first day without a delay or a day off in a week so the thought of working a full day was already tiring. When I couldn’t get back to sleep I decided just to get up and go for a run.

I hadn’t run in over a month and the entire month I felt off. February was rough. I had an extremely short temper with pretty much anyone that came in contact with me. I was angry, hostile, bitter. I felt like I hated the world. I felt like a terrible parent, a terrible wife, and a terrible friend. I blamed these feelings on the pregnancy and on the hormones, but really, what I think happened was that I just didn’t run.

Running has always been my therapy. As a kindergarten teacher and a mother, I don’t get much time to myself. Add pregnancy into the mix and most of the time that I had to myself had me being way too tired to do anything anyway.

I could tell you why I stopped for a month. I could tell you it was because the doctor recommended it (which she did, a least until 36 weeks), or because I was too busy, or because I was too tired. And for the most part all of these things are true. But the real reasons I stopped are far more shallow. I didn’t have a real goal to work towards to I slacked off. I got tired of seeing my mile times increase and increase some more. I got tired of seeing the scale go up incrementally.

So I stopped. I figured what’s the point. I would just sit around for the next few weeks and be lazy and grow a baby.

But what I’ve found is that I can’t stop. I need running. Like I need air. Like I need food. Like I need my family. I need it like my life depends on it. Because for all intents and purposes, it does.

So yesterday was important. Yes, I was more tired and sore than normal. But it didn’t matter. For the first time in a month I felt like me again. I felt positive. I felt ready. I felt alive.

So it’s time. It’s time to stop worrying about my time. It’s time to stopping thinking, period, and just run. Because you never know what amazing things lie on the horizon. And I know whatever they are, I can conquer them with my eyes wide open and my heart ready for anything.

c7056061bceee70709093e9f1702383a

The best laid plans…are sometimes better left undone.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” ~Robert Burns

I’m a planner.  And we had plans.

The kids, for the first time in a month, were going to spend the night at the grandparents house.  We were going to make appetizers from Trader Joe’s, have a glass of wine, eat chocolate, and watch really crappy TV.  I doubt we would have made it to midnight to see the beginning of 2015, but I would have tried. And it would have been OK because there would have been no little feet padding towards me at 1:30 or 3:45 in the morning needing to go to the bathroom, or an extra hug and kiss, or needing a drink of water.

We had plans.  And like the many other times we made plans, they slowly imploded on themselves until none of the original plan was remotely intact.

After shipping everyone off and sitting down to binge watch crappy TV UNINTERRUPTED I received “The Call”.  The little one, who hadn’t been feeling so great lately, didn’t want to stay.  He just wanted to be home and snuggle with us.  My face and spirits fell and I immediately  began to cry (chalk it up to pregnancy hormones).  I was going to get to watch TV!  I was going to get uninterrupted sleep!  I was going to stay up past 10!

And then I stopped and really thought about the situation.  And guilt replaced my outrage and upset-ness.  My little one, who wouldn’t be my little one in 3 short months, wanted to stay home and snuggle with his mom.  Why in the world was I upset about this?  I admit that we have it rather easy on our end.  The kids spend an obscene amount of time with their grandparents giving us ample time off.  And here I was wanting more.

I had this whole post written in my head about how, while 2014 was very tough, it was also a year of growth.  I was going to write about how 2015 was going to trump last year, I was going to go harder, push more, and ultimately be fierce.  This was going to be MY year.  It was going to be all about ME and what I wanted to accomplish.

But as always, it’s the smallest things that lead us to see the errors in our ways.  I do need to improve, but not in the way I so desperately thought.  Instead of constantly needing to pick up new things, try new things, be new, I need to be better at the things I already am.  I need to be better at the things that are inevitable (not in a bad way).  I need to be better at the things that I already am: mother, wife, friend.

That’s not to say that I will not continue to make time for my running, that I won’t branch out and seek the unknown, but simply that I also need to pay attention to the now, be present in the moment, remember that each day is a gift.

I need to stop trying to go out and be extraordinary and “make” extraneous memories, when my everyday actions are creating memories of their own: reading a book with little O, going for a neighborhood jog with M, feeling Baby 3 kick every moment of the day.

I need to stop thinking “been there, done that” for these moments and realize that each experience, no matter how repetitive or mundane may not be that way for the littles or for others involved.

I need to start appreciating what I have a little bit more.

there-is-no-such-thing-as-a-perfect-parent-quote

Hello. My name is quitter.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Life is painful and messed up. It gets complicated at the worst of times, and sometimes you have no idea where to go or what to do. Lots of times people just let themselves get lost, dropping into a wide open, huge abyss. But that’s why we have to keep trying. We have to push through all that hurts us, work past all our memories that are haunting us. Sometimes the things that hurt us are the things that make us strongest. A life without experience, in my opinion, is no life at all. And that’s why I tell everyone that, even when it hurts, never stop yourself from living.” ~Alysha Speer

I’m feeling lost and have no idea how I am going to find myself again. I feel transient, almost as if I am actually just on the outside looking in. I used to feel so put together. I used to feel like I had a purpose. I used to feel whole. I used to know who I was and now I simply have no clue.

I’ve been feeling this way for a while.  The more I try to think about why I’m feeling this way, the more confused and lost I feel.

It may have to do with being pregnant.   I have to admit, when I first found out I was pregnant I wasn’t thrilled. I had recently found running and had based some of my identity on being a runner (albeit a slow one). I was really worried about how this was going to affect my running. I realize it didn’t have to, but I was so worried about the beginning stages of pregnancy, that I let it. I have almost completely stopped running and without the running my mood has quickly gone sour. I am complaining more. Quitting more. Whining more. Being pessimistic more. And I hate it.

I’ve been letting my role of “mother” take away from all the other roles I love to play: runner, inspirer, friend, wife. And the worst part is, I’ve been letting myself let myself. Yet, when I try to reverse this, when I try to get back to the way things are, I can’t.

It’s not that I don’t know how. I know exactly the steps I need to take. I know exactly what I need to do. But I don’t do it. I make plans. Then I can’t take the steps.

I know I need to get up and run. I just need to do it. And then my alarm goes off in the morning and I go back to sleep, knowing full well that I am going to hate myself in the morning, that I’m going to feel crappier than if I missed that hour of sleep due to running.

Just yesterday, my 3 year old asked me why I don’t go running anymore. Even he has noticed. Even he has seen the effects of my slacked attitude. It’s not just me. It’s not me being oversensitive to the situation.

I feel discouraged because I am so much slower now than I was. I felt like quitting when I realized I wasn’t getting faster, but slower instead. And instead of continually getting slower, I let myself quit altogether.

When I try to explain this to people, I usually get the “It’s ok, because you’re pregnant.” So I sigh and am inwardly happy that I have a “legitimate” excuse that I can use instead of what the real reason is: “I’m scared and I don’t want to fail more than I have so I simply won’t try.” I’m letting pregnancy be my excuse because it’s there, not because it’s the truth. I’m letting it be my excuse because to the outside world, it’s one that is allowed.

But to me it’s not. I’ve come to far to let this go. I’ve overcome heartache and muscle aches and sore everything and yet still kept going. I don’t want to resent my newest little because I quit and blamed it on being pregnant with her.  I don’t want this to be who I am to her and the rest of my family. I don’t want this to be who I am, period.

I need to remember who I was. I need to find me again.

imgres

The Great Balancing Act

/ Cassie / 2 Comments

“If you don’t design your own life plan, chances are you’ll fall into someone else’s plan. And guess what they have planned for you? Not much.” ~Jim Rohn

I feel like a failure of infinite proportion lately. I am having trouble achieving balance in my life. It feels like if I am doing well in one area, another one begins to suffer and I’m not quite sure how to handle this.

Things seem to be going pretty well at work. My students are learning, my planning is always completed on time, and I have been receiving accolades from the people from “above” who have come in to watch me teach. But I have also been spending way to much time on these items. Planning has been taking place at school, yes, but also on the week-end and during the week, much to the chagrin of my family, and even me.

It seems that the reason things are going so well and I am doing so well, is because I am putting all my time and effort into it, which would be fine if I were not a mother and a wife and also did not have outside-work goals of my own. At what point did I begin to sacrifice my happiness and my family’s happiness for doing a great job at work?

The truth, that by the time I put all that effort into the work items, I have no more effort to give the people around me, the people I truly care about. I become short-tempered, short-fused, irritable and down-right mean, which is of no fault of anyone’s but me.

When was the last time I worked on an art project with my two little ones? Or built a pillow fort? Or made some weird looking house out of legos? I can’t even begin to tell you. Because when I’m home it becomes about packing lunches, making dinner, cleaning, or simply doing more school work because, somehow, the 10 hours I already gave the place isn’t enough.

And don’t even get my started on the last time I went for a run when it wasn’t dark out, or the last time I read a book, or even the last time I went and just enjoyed dinner with a friend. I can’t even remember when those last happened. Those seem like luxuries I can no longer afford. And I can’t tell you what my son’s homework was from last night because I didn’t have time to help him with it, dad did. I can’t even tell you what my kids are asking for for Christmas this year. Though I can tell you the last work e-mail I wrote, and I can tell you the last spill I cleaned, and I can tell you the last television show I turned on for the littles while I tried to get these things done.

And really, if I’m being super honest, I put all of this pressure on myself EVERY SINGLE DAY. I feel that if I’m not doing all these things someone is going to get mad at me, or rate me unfavorably, or simply (totally egotistical right here) outshine me. The sad part isn’t that I care about these things. The sad part is that I care so much I’m letting other, more important things, slip by the wayside.

I spent almost the entire weekend worried about a field trip we are taking on Tuesday. Worried that certain parents are going to get mad their kids aren’t going (even though THEY didn’t pay after the 15 notes I sent home), worried about what we are doing with the kids who aren’t going (which teacher is staying back?), worried about an upcoming observation that has yet to be scheduled…I worried so much that I missed out on truly enjoying my weekend.

It’s hard to tell myself that it’s ok to step back and take a moment. I KNOW deep down inside that I will still do a great job even if I don’t spend every waking hour on worrying about school and completing school related tasks. Everything will still get done. I KNOW this. But yet, I still don’t do it.

I didn’t run this week-end, I told myself, because I wanted to get the house cleaned, spend quality time with the kids, focus on family. Well, I didn’t run, but the house is still a mess, the kids are napping, and I binge-watched Netflix the other morning since they were at the grandparents.

I feel like I have these great ideas and great plans on ways to get my life back to how I truly want it to be. Yet, I do nothing about them. Planning and doing are two separate things I don’t seem to have the energy or the attitude for the one that actually takes an effort.

I need to be OK with not being perfect or the best. I need to be ok with a messy house if everyone is happy. I need to stop putting everyone else in front of my family and myself.

I need to stop. I need to breathe. I need to listen.

And then…I need to act.

160-failure

Color Us Amazing

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Family mean no one gets left behind or forgotten.” ~David Ogden Stiers

I took the Fitbit off for a week.  I wanted to let it run all the way out and start all over.  I was pushing myself too hard with it.  Suddenly, just reaching the 10,000 steps a day wasn’t enough.  Once I hit 100,000 for a seven day total I felt like I needed to stay there and I was putting way too much pressure on myself.  I finally put it back on today for the Color Run.

Image

Yesterday’s color run total. Today I was down to zero.

 

Today is Max’s 5th birthday.  In order to celebrate a little differently, we ran the Color Run in Baltimore as a family.  The kids had a blast and people seemed pretty impressed that they were running a lot of it, especially Ollie (the 3yo) and finished it without strollers, etc.  Mike had a lot of fun too!  We’re excited to do another one in the future.  The best part was, even after half walking, half running, I wasn’t tired or sore at all.  Not even after coming home and sitting for a while.  I can really feel a difference my running has made and I couldn’t be happier to share my new love and hobby with my family.

 

Image

Max with his color run gear before leaving

Image

Pre-Color Run Family Photo

Image

Oliver after all the color

Image

Max is tired, but colorful

Image

Post Color Run! We had a blast!

Who’s got W-I-L-L-P-O-W-E-R? Not me…

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“Willpower is trying very hard not to do something you want to do very much.” ~ John Ortberg

Things have been going well and not well all at the same time.  Is that even possible?  I’ve been pretty sad lately because a knee injury has sidelined my workout and running efforts.  I probably could have worked out this week, but it was hard to motivate myself knowing I was going to be in pain.  Running was simply out of the question, as it hurt just to walk sometimes.  I got back on the scale and was happy to see I had not gained anything, especially during my crappy eating binge of our snow days.  There were times I should have said no when I whole heartedly said yes and it was reassuring to see that the healthy band wagon didn’t get too far ahead and I am still able to jump back on.

I realize, though, especially during these snow days, that I have a terrible problem with willpower.  The fact seems to be that I don’t have any, or at the very least, I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere around the end of spring.  I’ve tried finding it, but have not had any luck.  I was doing so well last winter.  Eating healthy, working out, letting myself have random treats when I needed them, but for the most part saying no to those things that were going to harm me in the long run (I only ate a small piece of a homemade red velvet birthday cake last year, so that should tell you something).  I had gotten to the point where saying no felt good.  I wasn’t doing it to be pretentious or show that I was better than anyone else or that I could say no when others were saying yes.  I simply knew what that piece of cake/glass (bottle) of wine/cheeseburger was going to cost me in the long run and how I was going to feel if I gave in to the fleeting wanting; to that small dose of happiness I would feel during, but not after.  After, of course, I was going to feel like utter crap.

But lately, the “cravings” are getting the best of me and while I still feel like crap when I give in, I keep going back for more anyway. Part of the reason I deleted my Facebook account was that I was spending too much time on there when I should have been concentrating on other things (work, family, in-real-life friends).  I was wrapped up in this world of needing to know what someone ate for dinner last night, who went out with who, looking at photos, and spending too much time in the past.  And you know what? Every time I did it, spent way too much unconstructive time online, spent too much time on profiles that I have no reason to be on anymore, read conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with me, I felt gross.  Almost as if I had eaten an entire chocolate cake.  I’d get upset because I wasted time, jealous because I wasn’t invited somewhere, hungover on information I did not need.

I spent too weeks off Facebook and really did manage to get more done.  My basement is spotless.  My bed was made everyday. I read three magazines.  I was amazed at my willpower.  I couldn’t believe that I, a self-proclaimed Facebook junkie, had kicked the bad Facebook habit.

But you know what?  I hadn’t.  I had deleted my Facebook account, I had deleted the apps from my phone and iPad.  I had deleted the book mark from my computer.  There really wasn’t an easy way for me to get back on without having to re-log in or re-download something.  Essentially it wasn’t willpower.  Willpower would have been having access to it, but making the conscious decision not to get back on. I made it close to impossible for me to get back on.  Willpower would have been keeping my account, but forcing myself to limit my interactions and time online.  I made it so there was no choice to make.  I took the easy way out, the cowardly way out.

And really, the whole Facebook issue is reminiscent of most of the issues I have with my life.  I lack the willpower to say no or make a better decision.  Even when I know that what I am doing is the wrong choice I simply do it anyway because I can’t say no.  And really, I can, but it’s hard and sometimes I don’t know what I want.

But instead of taking the easy way out, I need to “man” up.  I need to learn to do what is best for me in the long run, not what is going to be a fleeting source of happiness.  I have to stop being so blind sided by what is right in front me and begin looking at the big picture.  I have to realize that pretty much everything is OK in moderation…but I need to make sure I am moderating (food, time online, time with family, etc.)

I’ve seen what I can accomplish when the challenge was easy.  Now let’s see what I can do when we up the ante.

Another Old Post…This time about Max.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

I posted an old post about Ollie a few weeks ago, so I feel like I should do the same for Max.  Here are two posts about going through the IEP process with him.

My Dearest Maxer:

Tomorrow is my first meeting with the IEP team about you.  We’re not sure what’s going on, if anything is going on at all.  You’ve been having some trouble at school playing with friends and following directions and we just want to see if there is anything we can do to help you out!  That’s not to say you don’t have good days.  As a matter of fact, you have had two perfect days at school that last two days!

We’ve been so proud of you throughout your short, but lively, three and half years.  When you were born, it was a miracle.  Literally, a miracle.  It was the happiest day of my life and I can’t see any way that day will be topped.  I wanted to take this time now, before any meeting, before any checklist or specialist can decide who you are, to tell you all the things you are to me, and how, no matter what is said, these things will never change.

  • Our eyes are exactly the same color.  I haven’t noticed this until recently, but I love that we have this in common. You actually told me about this. Its a subdued hazel color that reminds me of a calm lake and I love that it links us together in a way that is only for us.
  • You have the most amazing vocabulary, better than most kids I know.  You use so many words I didn’t even know you knew and in the correct way
  • You are a wonderful big brother.  You go out of your way to make sure your brother is included in most things you do and are always sharing with him and asking him to play with you.
  • Your memory is remarkable.  You remember things I may have said once weeks, even months, ago (and are oh so kind to always remind me)
  • You give the best hugs.
  • You love your family; your grandparents, your uncles, and me and daddy.  You have no trouble telling us this and do so frequently.  This is a gift.  Don’t ever lose it.
  • One of my favorite times of day is the first five minutes that you wake up.  You run in, jump into bed with me and pretend to go back to sleep as you snuggle up.  Guess what.  I pretend to stay asleep, just to have a couple quiet minutes with you.
  • You love to help out and always want to be involved in everything.
  • Your stubborn streak drives me crazy, but I secretly love it.  It’s a part of me in you.
  • You are very interested in building and making things.  Anything you can do with your hands, really.  That makes me so proud considering I can’t even put together IKEA furniture.
  • You have a very active imagination.  You make up amazing stories and songs and constantly keep me laughing.

I could continue to write this list forever but I’ll stop here for now. Really, there is only one thing you need to know. No matter what happens, I love you.  As long as you know that we have nothing else to worry about.

Love,

Mom

———————————————————————————————————————————————————–

I realize it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Part of me just wasn’t ready to post until I had a final answer about Max. The other part of me has been crazy busy with so many things going on that I can’t even keep my head straight most of the time.

About a month ago we had Max’s testing date. I got the results in the mail a few days ago and today I met with that evaluation team to talk about the results. He received hearing and vision tests, was observed at school by a child psychologist to evaluate social behavior, and was given language, speech and cognitive tests as well.

One of the biggest things we found out was that Max has profound hearing loss in his right ear and borderline hearing loss in his left ear. This hearing loss has most likely been there for a while, probably more than a few months and it just shocks me that we never even noticed anything about it. Both the audiologist and the pediatrician believe it’s due to fluid buildup behind the eardrum when he had an ear infection almost a year ago! We went back today and saw that the hearing loss is getting worse.  We’re hoping that with this next round of medication he will be able to regain all of his hearing. If not we’ll have to visit the ENT to find out if surgery is needed.

As for the other tests, long story short…we have a well adjusted, highly articulate and well mannered, very bright, slightly fine motor delayed three year old who is well socialized for his age in all areas.  I don’t know if you know what it’s like to have a 50 pound bolder lifted off your chest, but that’s what this news felt like.  As first I was so relieved that I cried.  Then I became so angry I cried.  For two years we have been going through this nightmare where his teachers have been saying that something is wrong, or he might be on the spectrum and in reality, nothing is wrong. I wasted two years of my life trying to change my child and expecting him to adapt to what certain people think is “normal” instead of finding the right environment for him…the one that will let him be his quirky, lovable self.

Throughout this whole process I’ve learned a lot about Max, things I never knew.  Amazing, wonderful, delightful things.  But more importantly I’ve learned a lot about myself and my role as a mother and an advocate for my children. I’ve learned better to stand up for myself, my thoughts, and my opinions, and to stand up for theirs because they can’t do it themselves yet…that is, until I teach them to.

My Latent Love (an old post about Oliver)

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

Here is a post a wrote about Ollie in January 2012 on an older blog.  I loved it so much I felt like I needed to share it again…

My little O is about to turn one in just twelve short days.  I have really been reflecting on this lately because, as I look back, I can’t believe how far we’ve come and what we’ve overcome together.

M has always been considered and probably always will be considered my little miracle baby.  Born after 2 losses, arriving almost six weeks early, it was hard not to love him at first sight.  This was something I had worked so hard to obtain, not just for for nine months, but for the three years before he was born as well.  He looked exactly like me and we were inseparable since our first day together.   And, in all honesty, we still are.  We are two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth.  Our personalities are so in sync that at times it is hard to figure out where I end and he begins.  There is, of course, a bond between father and son, but not quite like the one we share.

In opposition, being pregnant with O felt like a chore.  I know it had  a lot to do with having a toddler already, having to keep it a secret because we lived with my in laws at the time, and spending all my time worrying about where we were going to live, how we were going to pay for things, etc, but still I wanted it to be over.  I was ready for him to be born and ready to get the “parenting two under two” show going.

When he was born, he was absolutely perfect in every way a baby could be, but I was still worried.  Not about him because he was everyone’s favorite, but about M and how we would take it.  I know I should have been more worried about O, trying to spend more time with him, but I felt like, for some reason, he didn’t need me as much.  He had daddy, and the grandparents, everyone fawning all over him and all I could think about was how to make sure M was included in all of the newness and excitement.

I know moms that will sugar coat things and say that bringing a new baby into the fold was easy and natural, but I’m not going to lie.  From the minute we walked in that door and we were all left alone it was hard.  Taking care of two in a tiny house was insane.  Having no income at all while on maternity leave was a nightmare.  O was sick a lot and in turn we were all sick.  My sleep suffered.  My marriage suffered, everything seemed to be changing and I really wasn’t ready for it to.

My siblings and I are completely different, so I don’t know why I thought that O would be easy just like his brother.  There were/are so many differences, even from the beginning.  O wanted a lot of attention.  He loved to be held and be around people, especially his brother.  He was noisy and cried a lot and ate a lot, and was a terrible sleeper (still is!)

But with all of that came his smile, his huge blue eyes, and his ability to find joy and laugh at everything.  My day doesn’t feel complete if O isn’t up to say goodbye to me in the morning.  No matter what kind of day I am having, seeing him run to greet me when I come home with that huge smile on his face is all I need to change my day around completely.  He is definitely daddy’s boy, through and through, but I know we have something too, a connection that only a mom and son could have.  It may have taken a little while, but now I realize that I would not be able to function if he were not here with us.  He is the puzzle piece in the middle…the one without which you have no idea what the picture actually is, the one that keeps everyone together.

At first I felt guilty about these feelings I had, like I wasn’t a good enough mother for some reason because my heart did not burst full of love the minute I conceived, but I know that I shouldn’t.  My love for O grew a little bit each day and I know that even now it is not done growing.  Today I can say I love him to the moon and back, but that’s just because we don’t know what they will discover past the moon in the future.