RenovationGirl

No One Prepared Me For This

Many people attempted to prepare me for Builder Boy going to school.  They told me how sad I would be when I left him there (I was).  They told me how tired, and therefore, crabby Builder Boy would be when he returned home at the end of the day (he has been).  They told me to expect homework even though it's kindergarten (yep, he gets a bit, even though they told us he wouldn't get any!).  Oh yes, we were prepared for all of this, minus one major issue:

 

THE PAPERWORK.  THE PAPERS. PAPERS PAPERS PAPERS.

Look, I really like to see how Builder Boy is progressing in school.  I do!  But really, is it necessary for the teacher to send home every single stinking time he writes his name.  Throw me a bone here, lady-just send home one a week.  And yes, he is delighted every time he shows me each paper he has colored, each bear he has counted, every art project he has created, but oh my!  Can't some of this be put in a folder for Parent/Teacher Conferences?

OR...GULP...is there a folder there, too???

If you're like me, I have a hard time throwing away anything he creates...while I realize this adds to the clutter issue we have in our house (bordering on hoarding...), I just love to look back on his preschool creations now and compare how far he has come.  But, I will have to come up with some solution to the paper clutter.  I simply cannot keep everything. 

 
So, seasoned mommies, how do you keep up with the kindergarten paper onslaught?

Funny How That Works Out...

We are not a family who is good with keeping a schedule.  We clean whenever it gets to the point that its dangerous.  We cook whatever is in the freezer.  We do laundry when we need it.  We go to church at a different mass every week.  For the past five years, my work schedule has changed every day of the week.  Some weeks, I worked Monday, Wednesday, Friday, the next week I'd work Tuesday, Thursday. Throw in a couple of nights at the retail job or a weekend day just for a little more fun.  This worked for us.  It allowed us to not have to put Builder Boy in a stranger's care, it allowed me to be a part-time SAHM, part-time WAHM, part-time work outside the home mom.  I was able to bring in my portion of the money AND be active in the day to day aspects of my son's life.  It wasn't easy, but it worked.

All summer, the thought of school starting loomed over us.  For the first time in Builder Boy's life, I would not be here any morning to get him up.  This also would be the first year of full day school.  We dreaded the consistency of it all and the pressure it added to an already stressful life.

Well, aren't we surprised!

We are on week four of our new fall schedule.  I am working full-time at the one teaching job (still with two part-time jobs, too) and Builder Boy is now in kindergarten all day, every day.  I am no more tired than I was with the old schedule, although I do miss the every-other-day-getting-a-full-night-sleep aspect of our old schedule.  And while it is tough to keep up the momentum of getting everyone ready every day of the week, we are so pleasantly surprised that we like this new schedule.

For once, we feel like a normal family.  We go to school/work, we come home and eat dinner, we hang out, then we go to bed.  I do have the ominous feeling at times of living like Bill Murray's character in the "Groundhog's Day" movie, but there is something nice and reassuring about a consistent lifestyle.  Strangely, the house is staying cleaner, more meals are being cooked, more quality time is being spent with Builder Boy, and more bills are being paid on time and fully. 

So, that's where we are.  How's your new school year going?

Sunday Night Blues

Do you get the Sunday night blues?  My dad always talked about them when I was growing up and when I entered the adult world, I knew exactly what he meant.  There you are, happily going about your weekend when BLAMO! it hits you.  You have to work tomorrow.  Well, I don't start back to work until the week after this (three weeks before Labor Day-how ridiculous is that?!) and yet I already have the Sunday Night Blues.

Mostly because we just got back from vacation and I know that this is my last full week of freedom.  In exactly nine days, I will officially be back to work full-time, plus my two and a 1/2 side jobs.  It's fine.  Truly it is.  We will all adjust to our new lives, but, to be honest with you:  I DON'T WANNA!!!!!  While I have worked the past years many more hours than the normal full-time worker, I could do much of it in the middle of the night, in my pj's, no make up or cute clothes.  I certainly got a lot less sleep than the average human, but it worked for me.  I could be a part-time stay at home mom and feel like I was involved, yet make money and feel some sense of personal satisfaction beyond diaper changes and Lego contests.  It worked.

Now, I will be up 5 days a week a 5 AM.  I will never be the one to take my son to school. I will have to race to pick him up after school.  I cannot be there if he gets sick at school (I work an hour a way) or volunteer in his classroom.  At least one night a week, I will work outside the home at my retail job.  All nights I will have to work my online job.  Occasionally I will work my stamping consultant job.  It will be crazy.

YET, there is some peace of mind that I will have a steadier and bigger pay check.  The benefits are better than what we've had.  The drive to work, while long, is familiar as is the curriculum I teach. All will be well. 

But boy these Sunday Night Blues are yucky!!  :)

Little Pink Booties

I finally hooked up with my RE today.  All looks good post D&C.  We're all set to have the surgery as soon as I figure out the best time to have it.  I didn't want to miss days of work, but it's looking like that's what going to happen. 

Our baby was a girl.  I knew it was in my heart, but they confirmed this today.  It made it all very real again. We move along, we're fine, we go through the day to day, and then we get this news, and all of a sudden, there it is again.  I mean, we're fine and all, but this just kind of hit us hard.

You see, we want another child, but I think we both would love to have a little girl.  Remodel Man especially wants that father/daughter relationship...a little girl to look up to her daddy...to be her protector...to have her dance on his feet...to have a father/daughter dance at her wedding.  Telling him today was incredibly difficult.  And he took it very hard.

For me, well, I have goddaughters and I have made their mothers, my two closest friends, swear that I can come prom and wedding dress shopping! :)  But still, I'm very close to my mother and would love to have a relationship like that with my own daughter. 

Regardless, now we know.  We can move on and see what happens after surgery.  I am still eternally grateful for this little boy who has been entrusted to us. 

Thank you all for your amazingly supportive comments...it is good to know I am not alone. 

The Brightness of Night

When you grieve, the nights are always so difficult.  The darkness is haunting and reminding and quiet.  The solitude and cover of the blackness permits the thoughts to weave inside your mind, sometimes freeing you and sometimes tying you up tightly.  For the widow it is the coldness of the sheets.  For the mother, it is the emptiness...of the crib, of the womb, of the heart.

I think for someone post-miscarriage, I'm doing amazingly well.  Everyone I know (minus one-thanks AWN!) has forgotten about this.  No one asks about it (it's really so passe!) and all assume I'm fine.  And truly, in the public day to day, I am fine.  If you asked me honestly how I felt, I would still tell you fine.  Because I think I am. 

But, there's been trouble on the home front.  It's no new battle. It's one I have fought for, oh, six years now.  I have tried many things to establish a peace treaty, but unfortunately, the opponents are tough and rather stubborn. We struggle every single day to come to some type of terms...me and motherhood. The innocent victim of this war?  Builder Boy.

I have talked often about my intense feelings of guilt and incompetency, how I never fit the image of the mother I want to be.  I have given excuses-too many jobs, not enough money, infertility-and begged off of ideas to help.  But things are getting critical here...damage is being done and issues must be rectified.  I need help.

Each night as darkness falls, the brightness of my own feelings blind me.  I am overcome by my own incompetency and the failings of each day (and they are many).  Each night I assess the damage and strategically plan for the next day.  All of the wrongs I will right and the things I will do better.  As I attempt to sleep, I pray and make commitments.  Yet, each morning, as the sun rises to its own light, I am shaded by it.  A certain darkness descends and I find myself feeling alone and scared and incapable.  I look at this beautiful child who will in just one month's time will leave this house daily for all day school, and I wonder, "How have my failings impacted him?"  The harsh words, the impatience, the time spent working, or time wasted on the computer, too few books read and far too much television.  Not enough flash cards, not enough play dates.  No sibling. 

He is a sweet and clever boy.  He is kind and empathetic to others.  He uses great manners in public.  He is full of wonder and energy.  He is inquisitive and imaginative.  And every day, as he grows, I feel as if I take a little of those positives away from him with my own negatives.  So, maybe I am not okay.  Maybe this miscarriage has damaged me far more than I admit.  Maybe this subconscious refusal to "not be okay" is causing my bad parenting.

So, it's time.  Changes are coming.  Builder Boy deserves a more engaging mother...a happier and nicer and more patient mother.  And I need some peace of mind as the night enfolds.

A Lego Birthday Celebration

I've been meaning to post about Builder Boy's 6th birthday, which was almost a month ago.  He wanted a party at the house, which although is a lot of work and expense, I have to confess I enjoy.  It allows me to be creative and I don't have to leave the house to do it! 

It had been threatening to rain all day, but about the time the guests started to arrive, the skies cleared. We were able to have the entire party outside.  All of those organized games I created?  Yea, totally didn't do those-the kids were having too much fun just playing.  Builder Boy's preschool class this year is a delightfully kind and close group of kids.  They love one another and just love to be together. So, together they were.  It was a lovely day.  Builder Boy had a blast and was spoiled rotten.  It couldn't have been a better 6th Birthday!

The favors: homemade Lego brick crayons and minifigures, Lego Blox candy, and a bag of Legos all in a "Lego box."

The favor boxes, pinata and cake:

The Pinata: 

Fixing the homemade pinata...clearly I didn't make it strong enough.  (Sorry you have to tilt your head.) 

Cake close-up...Remodel Man iced the cake!!  He did an awesome job!

Candy candy candy!!!! 

 

What a great day and what a great little boy.  Although it's late, Happy 6th Birthday to the best little boy in the  universe!  We love you more than anything, Builder Boy!
 
 
 

Oscillation

Isn't that a great word-oscillate?  I had an oscillating fan at my first apartment...it was great to keep the air moving around on those oppressively hot days-back and forth, back and forth, bach and forth.  It soon developed a squeak that no WD-40 could remove.  It was annoying, but on those unfortunately on those oppressively hot days, a squeak was better than a wall of heat. 

I feel a little bit like that squeaky oscillating fan.  I find myself shifting back and forth between who I am and who I want to be.  I  make strides to who I want to be, but get pushed back when reality shoves its way in.  Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. 

I recently stumbled across a blog title (and can't find the link again!!) that discussed finding herself  in motherhood.  This is a common problem when you go from woman to mother.  You lose sight of who you are and how you fit into this world besides being a "mom."  I joke about "what I want to be when I grow up."  I don't have an answer to that, but I do know how I want to live and how that is nothing like how I am living. 

How am I living?  Tired.  Paycheck to paycheck.  I'm not reading enough or attending enough cultural events.  I'm not eating as well as I should and I'm not exercising at all.  My house is a disorganized, cluttered, and dirty disaster.  I don't spend enough time with my friends or doing the creative activities that make me peaceful.  Our lives lack structure and therefore discipline. I feel unfulfilled and insecure and static.

How do I want to live?  I want to have some financial security.  I want to scrapbook, write, read great books, hand-stamp cards.  I want to cook healthy meals (mostly from scratch) and exercise regularly.  I want to organize my home.  I want to visit (and be visited!) by friends.  I want to feel fulfilled and secure and dynamic. 

But every time I make great strides towards how I want to live, some obstacles get in my way.  Plans are foiled.  Disappointments abound.  When that does happen, it holds me down, makes me feel incapable of overcoming and I stagnate. 

As I watch my son play with my husband on this unseasonably warm April night, I know that before I know it, my little guy will be on his own, living his own life.  I need to figure out who I am and how to live this life now. 

How do you do it?  How do you live the life you want with the obstacles that have been placed in your path?

Blog Friends

I fought starting a blog for years.  BBM tried and tried to get me to do it, with her or by myself, but I just thought it was sort of weird.  Then I started reading infertility blogs and was amazed that people were out there saying all the feelings I felt in my heart.  So I started reading, and reading and reading.  Eventually I started my own blog and started commenting a bit, too. When people started reading and commenting, it was validating and comforting.  People out there in cyber land were going through the same things I was and they understood. 

The longer you blog, the more blog friends you have.  These are people that I have never met in real life, yet there they are, cheering me on, holding my hand, and comforting me during some of my darkest moments. 

One of the first blogs I started reading was Are We There Yet.  She is a remarkable woman who has been through so much and yet always, always, always has a profoundly honest and optimistic outlook on life.  A few years ago, as she was about the pull her name from the fostering to adopt program, she received a phone call that there was a little boy who needed a home.  He was merely days old.  I remember running into the living room to tell my husband about her.  This good news, this miraculous news was something I wanted to share.  I was so filled with joy for her. 

Today, though, my heart is filled with sorrow and concern.  Her adorable and amazing son, now almost three, has been diagnosed with a rare and terminal illness.  And yet, her post today shows just what an amazing and incredible woman she is.    If you are so inclined, please say some prayers for all of them today.  Please think positive thoughts.  Please pray for the researchers who are searching for a cure and the organizations working to fund these researchers. 

And to my bloggy friend, we are all here lifting you up and holding your hand.  We are ready to fight this fight with you. 

On Being Valued

Lately, the idea of value has been weighing on me.  Not just in one part of my life, but in all-wife, mother, teacher, employee, friend.  It seems that so often, we forget that people need to be valued, not just by words, but by deeds.  Someone can say, "I value you," but if those words aren't followed by actions, they fall flat and mean nothing.

Jobs are the worst at this, mostly because we exist in a replaceable society.  I heard myself saying to a manager at my retail job last week that I knew "I was replaceable."  Theoretically, yes, this is true-we are all replaceable.  But when I think back to when I managed people, I could replace them, but not with the same exact skills or strengths or personal qualities.  Every time someone new was brought in, there was a learning curve, a transition period for all of us.  While the skills would eventually get there (in most cases), the personality will always be different.  Sometimes this can be a good thing, but sometimes not.  And when we exist in a work environment that makes it known that you are replaceable, it shows little value to the work you are doing.

This same job has been "cleaning house" recently.  We're all feeling a bit edgy and no one is truly happy to be there.  While perhaps this house cleaning was necessary, it has lowered morale beyond manageable proportions.  When asked what could be done to improve the morale, materialistic things were offered. and while these are nice, they still don't truly reflect a value in a staff.

I also have been feeling less than valued in my personal life.  I take great pride in attempting to be a good friend.  I feel very strongly that women need to make time for their friends, no matter what life throws their way.  Many of my friends don't feel this way.  I'm working 70 hours in a week, yet I still attempt to write out a quick card of encouragement, send a short text to let someone know I am thinking about them, or pick up the phone to leave a short "miss you" message.  I sleep for five hours a night if I'm lucky, but I will still jump on Fac.e.book to check in on friends or say hello to someone.  Relationships of all sorts take time, even when you're tired or overwhelmed.

Certainly, motherhood is a lesson in feeling under-valued, but here, the wet, sloppy kisses or being called to in the middle of the night after a nightmare makes it all worthwhile.

So, I've decided in an effort to make others feel valued, I am going to show even more than normal how I value  my friends, family, and co-workers.  How?  Here's a few things I'm going to do:

1.  Let my co-workers "overhear" me saying good things about them. 

2.  I'll pass along compliments instead of negative comments.

3.  I will call a friend with whom I haven't spoken in a while-the human voice can be a wonderful sound to hear instead of the typing of text messages/instant messaging.

4.  I will help out a friend without being asked.

5.  I will look for ways to praise people.

6.  I will pray for all those I encounter in my day.

7.  I will send cards of encouragement to those who need it and some who don't.

8.  I will make more of an effort to bring friends together.

9.  Make sure my smile reaches my eyes.

Do you feel valued?  How do you show to others that you value them?

No Place for Babies

We had a park near our house when I was growing up that we could walk to.  It was a simple park...a baseball diamond/soccer field, a pavilion, a row of swings, an extremely high metal slide, and a merry go 'round.  Oh the merry go 'round. You would start running while pushing it until you got it going super fast, then you pulled yourself on to enjoy the ride.  I can remember how cool the air felt, how I felt like I was moving at warp speed, and how the sky spun until I was dizzy.  It was pure bliss and one of my very favorite parts of going to the park.

Today, Builder Boy and I went to our park.  We can also walk to this park.  It has many of the same highlights as my park did, albeit mostly made of plastic now, and this past fall they installed a merry go 'round.  I told Builder Boy all about my park (which he goes to now with my parents and which is run-down and kind of pathetic) and how much fun I used to have on the merry go 'round.  We excitedly ran to it and began our escapades.  As he pushed me on the merry go 'round, I lay back and watched the clear blue sky spinning.  I felt that same cool breeze and couldn't believe how fast it felt like I was moving. But as fast as I was moving on the merry go 'round cannot possibly compare to how fast I jumped off of the merry go 'round. 

Why, you ask?

To avoid hurling.  Yep, somewhere between 7 and 37 I have lost my ability to go 'round and 'round without extreme nausea.  For hours I was sick.  I had to sit in the park with my head between my knees while attempting to feign interest in what Builder Boy was doing.  He knew I wasn't feeling well, so he asked me how to spell "I love you," and subsequently etched it out the mulch I was sitting on "to make you feel better, Mama."  I had to stop a couple of times on the very short walk home to avoid getting sick on the street.  Once home, I had to lie down with a mint in my mouth and breath slowly and deliberately.  Hours later, I still do not feel right.

I totally can't hang with the 8 and under crowd.