Check me out: I'm home alone

Greg took the kids to his friends house for a birthday party. Begrudgingly...but he did it.

He worked, then went to the junk yard for a "1/2 hour" which turned into 2 or more. Got home late and announced he didn't want to go to the party after all b/c he was tired. Sarah started crying immediately. She had looked forward to this all day. (And so had I.) Greg got mad at me for telling her about the party. I told him she was right next to me when I was on the phone with him about it and she was also with me when we went out specifically to get the birthday girl a gift card. So after a little hissy fit, he packed up both kids and left for the party.

I can not stand adults who break their promises to kids. I realize sometimes it happens (eh, like when one gets called to a birth), but at least have some compassion. Greg looked at me and said, "Why is she crying?"

Don't make me slap some sense into you. I told her I'd take her to the pool after I cleaned the credit union. That's when Greg decided he'd take them. I'm sure I'll hear bitching tomorrow about how incredibly tired he is because he worked, did the junkyard thing and then drove all over to this party. Whatever.

I cleaned the credit union. Still waiting on my client to have her baby. One of my new potential night-time baby sitters has all this home-life drama going on and is totally out of the picture. My sister is being very sweet and offering her assistance despite her work schedule. As in, she'd come over here at 3am and watch my kids til she had to go to work around 8 or 9am. That's very generous.

The last two weeks have been kind of difficult. I think I may have been (still am?) depressed. I never know when to use that term because for me, it's this sign of weakness that for past childhood reasons, I get completely manly and stupid about (the word). There was an interview passed onto me from salon.com about a new book called A Ghost in the House, about mothering and depression. And I liked the title because it fit the bill to some extent. It's meant as a depressed mother is a vacant mother. She's a ghost. A shell. It all made sense after I had spent a few days crying sporadically because I so completely resented spending every waking moment actively engaged with my children with little relief. Or at least not any real relief. Checking my emails for 5 minutes doesn't count. Cooking dinner and talking on the phone while being interrupted every 7 minutes doesn't count. Even hanging out with a friend and her children doesn't count because we're both still so engaged in mothering all the children.

It's hard. It's a viscious cycle of irritability, followed by resentment, followed by guilt (no loving parent could EVER resent the time spent with their children!). The guilt is followed by a pledge to be even more engaged with the children for being so annoyed by them in the first place.

For example: I make them both breakfast in the morning. Hook them up with watching a half hour of Arthur and then sit at the table with my peanut butter toast and coffee and whatever novel I'm reading. This should allow me 10 minutes of peace. Instead, without fail, my toast grows cold and stiff and my coffee cold with a layer on top because someone needs me to get them a drink. Or they want my toast. Or E. wants to nurse.

Then I get disgusted and don't eat. Drink my cold coffee and move on. Later when I'm bitchy thanks to low blood sugar and relentless demands for X,Y,Z I just want to scream. I usually don't. I just go into the cycle of irritability, resentment, guilt.

Greg's been gone a lot lately. Working. Doing what he does. I tried to sneak out of the house to go to the library for ONE HOUR and Sarah caught me. I told her what I was doing: going to the library to study (something I want to do 2-3 times a week now for NARM, for me). Ssssh! Don't tell Eamon, I'm going to try to sneak out. What does she do? She starts this high-pitched whine saying she wants to come to the library too. That she never gets to go (we go every week and she had been 2 days ago), she's bored. It's not fair that I get to go.

This of course, alerts Eamon who now wants me. He's tired and wants to nurse. Greg didn't sweetly take over and distract them. Instead he said, "Why don't we all get ice cream?" Excuse me?! I don't want to go anywhere as a family. I spend 14-15 hours a day completely on for the kids. I can't study while I'm home. Sarah whines even louder that she doesn't want ice cream, she wants to go to the library. Instead, no one goes anywhere but to the couch. Sarah is sniveling, Greg watching a documentary (ironically, about 2 men motorcycling around the world and what freedom they're enjoying!), Eamon falling asleep and nursing, and me, blinking back hot tears.

There have just been a lot of moments of absolutely-no-me-time. And I need Me time to be a good mama. I do. I've made peace with it. I refuse to feel guilty about it. I refuse to compare myself to other mothers. I don't think it's asking a lot. I just want to study~ which isn't even very soul-soothing, fun stuff, you know? I'm not out clubbing and drinking. I want to go to the fucking public library to read in peace. Forgive the language. It's me. Comes with the car, folks.

So here I am home alone and its nice. But as with most rare moments, one spends it not knowing quite what to do. I cleaned. I'm blogging freely. No one on my breast. No interruptions. No whines. Just the dog snoring near my feet and the hum of the air conditioner.

I'm going to find some food and lay in my bed and read a midwifery text book. However, if I weren't on-call, I would so totally walk down to the smoke-free brewery a block away and have a beer and read my novel. Ahhhh. That would be lovely.

Therapeutic blogging.

more examples of my stellar mothering

we're enjoying a laid back moment. kids are playing with PlayDoh at the table listening to music. i'm bouncing around the house doing my housework, checking emails, etc.
it just dawned on me that the kids are listening to Lou Reed sing about Shiny, shiny boots of leather....
know that one? "kiss the boot~ of shiny, shiny leather..." Kids need to hear a slow sung Velvet Underground song about bondage at 8am.
it doesn't count tho, right? I mean, that song was being sung when I was a wee babe.
oh, we also watched old Mystery Science Theater 3K (a borrowed 4 disc box set) this morning for a good hour or so before shifting off into our day.
Sarah thought it was hilarious. We were all chuckling. It is hilarious.

I'm sorry, but I just can't stand music made for children. Even the kind that's not supposed to sound like children's music.
And I swear we've seen every Arthur episode.

its good to give the little kids culture, you know?

last night's post continued...

So we drove to Fenton. We arrived at Bill's mom's house and no one was home. So we drove around the corner and fed the kids a healthy Burger King meal and let them play in the indoor play structure for a bit. Before leaving Fenton we tried Bill's house again. This time his car was there. Greg went to the door and came back with Bill hugging him and smiling. Big hugs and kisses all around.
Bill is our friend from years ago. He virtually lived with us from around late '96 to early '99. He's an excellent artist and a slacker extraordinaire. When I had Sarah he left. I think he was personally pissed that Chuck had a child and a few months later I did too. I heard from him on New Years when Sarah was 4 months old and that was that.
So we saw him yesterday. He looks totally the same. Tall, extremely thin and wirey. Chain smoking. Balding, smiley, funny. He reminds me a lot of a younger Ed Harris. Very intense but smiles a lot. He's holed up in his mom's house (which is destroyed) painting "like a Zen master". 12-16 hours a day, painting. And lots of smoking. He chain-smoked two before he asked, "Ah man, you guys quit didn't you?!" Greg said, "Um yeah, like 7 years ago."
We stayed an hour or so. Talking in the driveway while the kids found random weird things in the overgrown weeds. Before we left he gave the kids a bunch of XMen figures still in their boxes. I gave him our phone number and invited him to come down some time. I know he never will. But that's okay.
It was a surreal day. First Chuck and then Bill. Old, old friends who remind you of what you used to be. Chuck despite having a child, is very much the same. Smokes, goes to a lot of shows, always in some band or another. Bill, completely the same: smoking, drinking lots of soda and painting and sketching for hours a day. Doesn't have a job. Surely burned through what little money his dad left.
At first glimpse this is all very alluring. Driving home, Greg reminded me of days he would go to bed at night, saying good night to Bill and I as we chain smoked and painted and yakked, debated and laughed. He'd wake in the morning to go to work and we'd be doing the same thing. He'd come home from work and we'd be doing the same thing. And when Greg had a day off it was the same thing. Greg staying up all night with Bill. We never really drank with him. Lots of Pepsi. Lots of Camels. Its hurts my head to think of all that caffeine and sugar and nicotine.
I feel worlds away from all that. I don't smoke. I run. I am a mother. A midwife. I'm blessed with a good life, for sure.
There will always be a slice of me that will miss those days and nights though. If cigarettes weren't bad for you, if I weren't on-call... ha. Bill painting amazing things, me painting crap, but enjoying it all the same. Reading tons of books. Lots of discussion. Lots of laughing.

Just so surreal. Greg and I were in a daze all night. We'd just look at each other and go: Wow.

I am getting old. :)
It's all good. It's just going to take a few days to let this all sink in and move on. Let the stirred up memories come to the surface and sink down again.

Earlier as I was writing about my horrific nightmares, the doorbell rang. It woke Eamon from his nap. It was our friends Chuck and Ernie. Whenever they visit, its always this kamikaze visit out of nowhere. Its always good to see them but always throws our day off.
Chuck had heard a rumor that our old friend Bill was staying at his mom's house in Fenton. Living like a hermit. Greg wasn't in the room at this point.
After Chuck left, we packed the kids into the car to take them to Gallup Park. As we drove I told Greg about the Bill rumor. And just like that we hopped on the freeway and drove the hour north to Bill's moms house.

breezy Monday

Here's a new and wonderful blog: http://shapeofamother.blogspot.com/
It shows pictures of post-pregnant bodies and also bodies of women who have lost a lot of weight. No on ever talks about this, let alone shows it. Bravo to them for boldly showing themselves off with pride. I've never really had to deal with weight issues much, but I've certainly dealt with body image issues. Working with women of all shapes and sizes over the last 5 years helped me love who I am and to also love all body types. Our culture has us so set up to be repulsed by anything larger than a waif. Its terrible. I also just watched Pink's video "Stupid Girl", which someone posted on that blog and its excellent! Check it out, it's a good, cynical laugh.

In other news, everyone is feeling better (although Sarah still has a cough). Greg was called-off work today, but things are looking up as they're getting busy again post-Big3-summer layoff.
He and Sarah are at the library. Eamon's napping and I'm feeling sluggish. I'm waiting on one doula client to have her baby~ she's not due til Friday, so it could be some time yet. Her doctor asked her at 39 weeks if she wanted to set up her day to be induced!!! ARGH!!! WTF? This is a woman who had her first on her due date! Why on earth would you schedule your induction date at 39 weeks? The hospital is Mars. Completely foreign to me. She declined and said she'd wait til the baby was ready. I have a feeling she'll get an epidural as soon as she can, unless the labor is quick. She's pretty much said as much. I'm fine with an epidural. It just amazes me that people who know that they'll get one as soon as they can will pay for a doula's services. They're a lovely couple at any rate. I'm anxious about night time childcare as usual. My mom is around this week, but will be gone Friday thru Monday. It will all work out though. It always does.

After this birth, I have a first-time mom, doula client due mid-August and then a homebirth in early September. Then nada. I'm trying to schedule a time to have a tooth repaired/ a crown put on for the end of September. I can't do it when I'm on call b/c I'm too anal. I know that if I had to send back-up while my butt is in a dentist's chair, I'd go nuts. However, I also know that the likelihood of that happening is very slim. Just the same, I'm waiting til end of September.

Went to Target yesterday with my sister and the kids. Did some back to school shopping. 24 count of Crayola crayons only 20 cents! 10 spiral bound notebooks for $1! Oooo-whee! Love a bargain. Also got her a very cute Hello Kittie back pack for $10. I'm a sucker for office supplies.

I had horrible, recurring nightmares last night that woke me up twice. One of those lovely some strange man is trying to murder my family dreams. (I have these a few times a year, where some stranger comes in quickly through the door and goes straight to my kids to strangle them.) Last night, I had just had a baby. It was the 1st day postpartum and one of my senior midwives was doing a 24 hour visit. The big stanger came in and murdered her while I got Greg from another part of the house. After strangling the midwife he grabbed Eamon. It was awful. I fought him off and then woke up, petrified. I woke up full of adrenalin. Went back to sleep and dreamed the same dream in another scenario. Went back to sleep praying for peace in my head.
Don't know what that's all about. Have to think about it. I talked to my therapist months ago about it, I can't remember what she thought.

Missing Toof

Miss Sarah lost her top front tooth! She looks like a jack-o-latern! A very lovely jack-o-latern!

And that slackin' Tooth Fairy forgot to come during the night!! Fortunately, she came while we were picking up Nan from the airport! Phew! Smooth move, Tooth Fairie.

She officially looks like a Big Kid now. Although she always has. Every guesses her to be 8,9 or even 10! What?!

She's still 6 and 3/4. Okay, a little more than that. But not yet 7!

more summer reading

Since I am stuck in the house even longer now with summer sickness, I'm continuing to read, read, read.
I started a novel called "Charms for the Easy Life", by Kaye Gibbons. My neighbor E. gave it to me a while ago. I'm not sure if she's read it yet. Its great. It takes place in N. Carolina in the early 1900s, slowly moving through the years telling about the fun/crazy life of a very strong-willed trio of women: a grandmother, mother and her daughter. The g'ma is a traditional healer and midwife. She takes her daughter and g'daughter on calls with her. It's entertaining and well-told. Their own stories are unfolding as I read on. There's definitely a lot to love about tales that take place down South. Especially in summer.
Thanks Elizabeth, for lending me such good reading to get me through these long summer days!

Pneumonia

So Sarah and I have had this dumb cough for 2 weeks. We were both getting better by Monday. Tuesday evening though, Sarah's cough seemed to be getting worse again. Greg wanted to get her "real medicine" i.e., cough syrup (an $8 bottle of sugar syrup). It didn't help in the least, as I knew it wouldn't. It's all acetaminophen and sugar. And the body does not need any sugar when it's fighting something. It just makes it weaker.
Yesterday we picked Margaret up from the airport. She loaded us done with gifts from all the aunties and herself. Mainly: lots of t-shirts with some kind of England logo. Seeing as how England didn't do so great in the World Cup, all things English were very clearanced. So my kids will be walking around like Anglophiles for the next year. I really need to get some good Polska tees for them.
At any rate, by yesterday afternoon, Sarah's cough was far worse and she sprouted a fever. Both kids have well-child visits next Monday so I had been trying to hold off on a doctors appointment. She sounded horrible though. I was beginning to suspect pertussis. So I got her in just before they closed and found out she has pneumonia. Seems her cough was just a viral infection but for whatever reason, some bad bacteria found its way to the fluid of her lungs as she was recovering from the cough and just made things from getting better to far worse.
She's on a 10 day round of antibiotics. She and I were both swabbed (with this horrible little Q-Tip on a long spring that was placed far up our noses and twirled somewhere behind our eyeballs) for pertussis. It takes a week for that to be cultured, IF it grows for them. The doctor asked about Eamon and I was pleased to say that neither Eamon or Greg have had any sign of sickness or cough despite Sarah and I having this cough for a while now.
This morning, Eamon starts a nice, phlegmy cough.
Shit. I pray it doesn't turn to pneumonia for him.

It's so not fun to be sick in summer. Although, I'm happy its now as opposed to being in the middle of the school year for Sarah.
Looks like we'll be staying home for a few days, at least. I've been told the antibiotics should kick in and make her not contagious by about 3-4 days. And that if it is pertussis, the same medication would be given to her, so it's like we're treating both either way.

What are you a product of?

There is a line regarding midwives that goes: You are the product of your last ten births.
Meaning, whatever your last 10 births were like, lovely and peaceful, harrowing, exhausting, etc. that is the midwife you currently are. And of course, subject to change.

I was thinking the same is true for fiction. I've been devouring books lately and it has been great. I know that soon I'll have to drop my love of fiction once again as I prepare to knuckle down to months of intense studying. It's amazing how your current read helps (or doesn't help) shape your day. Whichever it is, it seems to play a part.
I just finished Susan Minot's Lust and Other Stories. She is an excellent writer. I expected late 20s Sex and The City type of stuff and it was along those lines to some degree. But more on the Waspy side. The whole book carried with it this underlying upper-class-ness (yep, so literay, me), that made me a bit pissy. I couldn't shake it. Just read the stories, I told myself. They're holding your attention, they are well-written...but the whole thing reeked of (and here I go getting cynical~ my strongest and worst trait): Waa, waa, I'm rich and go to fab parties and no one understands me! *pout*pout*pout*
I'm terrible. I hate that I have such class issues.It's plagued me my whole life. And while I get on just fine most days, and I think I have it together and I've out-grown my issues with the wealthy, all it takes is one slim book of short stories to set me off and prove I've not changed as much as I would've liked.
Damn.
Maybe it's because this book followed up my having read the book about the autistic woman who was raised by a very poor, working-class family.
The other day I found myself pissed about an acquaintance turning to me and asking if I went to *any* college. Or did I just graduate from 8th grade? Tee hee, ha ha. WTF? But I went along with it and the "white trash" words came out and I was pissed at myself for laughing along with it. Enough. Enough already.

So I have to watch what I read right now. I'm falling too deeply into the books I'm reading.
I am definitely a product of the last 10 books I've read.

mastitis and more

All last week Sarah and I have been coughing this horrible cough that carried now other symptoms with it. No runny nose, no aches and pains, no mucus. Just this weird, dry cough. Sarah always gets croupy with any cough so she sounds like a seal. I've met a lot of people this summer with this cough. Friday I had a migraine from hell, surely from the massive thunder storm that was trying to come through all day until it finally did around 4pm. Between my menstural contractions (they were a few steps beyond cramps) and the migraine, I just felt worn way out. I had run that morning and was so slow. Like it took me 8 minutes longer to do my usual run. That's very slow. I had no idea what was going on until...
Yesterday morning I woke up with a fever, chills and pain throughout my body. My throat was inflamed and I had a painful lump in my breast. A clogged duct turned to mastitis overnight. I went back to bed, shivering and woke up later covered in sweat, the fever broke. Still, I my body was aching. It felt like every ligament was on fire. Add to that day 2 of a very heavy period that closely mirrored early-active labor for the first few hours of the morning...I wanted to crawl under a rock and sleep.
Instead, life as usual. Greg was working. So we all got dressed and did our grocery shopping. My mom came by and we went to Trader Joe's. I bought some Emergen'C. After I drank some and ate some lunch I was feeling better. We walked to the Ypsi Shadow Art Fair which was fun. I wished they had a larger space to gather in though. It was tight in there. But it was air-conditioned, much to my relief. I pictured it was being in the parking lot of the Corner Brewery.
We ended up leaving with a bracelet for Sarah, an Iggy Pop is from Ypsilanti shirt for me, a little water color of hong Kong stuck to a sheet of wrinkled metal and some coffee. It was so hot out.

By the time we walked home, I was feeling like crap again. I called Greg and told him to finish up soon (by this time he was at Karls wrenching in the junk yard). He said he'd be home in an hour. An hour and a half later he came home. I went to bed. The house was cool thanks to all 3 window ACs going. Eamon couldn't wrap his head around his mama laying down in the middle of the day. He kept busting in to the room and jumping into bed, laughing. "Mama go night-night? Me go night-night too!" and then he'd scramble under the blankets, kicking me and giggling. Greg came in and grabbed him and told him to let Mama sleep. After 3 more Eamon interruptions I locked the door, which made him stand at the door and rattle the knob calling, "Maaaama!" The kids played in the dining room jumping and thumping and laughing. So loud. I stayed in my bedroom for 2 hours and slept all of 10 minutes. I came out and the house was destroyed. There was a bag of sand and seashells dumped all over Sarah's floor with about 52 wodd animal game tiles. The living room was covered in various puzzle pieces and toys. Greg brought up a basket of laundry but didn't fold it (which makes me crazy because then it just gets incredibly wrinkled~I'd rather him leave it in the dryer).
I was so pissed but didn't have the energy to say a word. I came out to both kids telling me they were hungry (I had left instructions with Greg as to what to cook them for dinner). So I started dinner and began cleaning the mess. Then I folded the laundry.
What is it with men? I know they're not stupid, but I've definitely noticed a trend in them not to choose to make that wee bit of extra effort that would make things so much easier for everyone. I've taken the kids out of the house or played quietly with them in order than Greg can sleep. And of course I feed them and keep the house in decent shape. I take one afternoon for the first time in 2 years to try to rest and all the guy does is sit on the couch watching tv while the kids have a blast wrecking the place. Grrrrr!
So not fair.
So there I was with a fever again, very achey, very tired and very awake and angry. The kids were fed and the house was clean all in 30 minutes. Fortunately the kids went down around8:30. I lay in bed til midnight finishing up this book I got from the library called, Nobody Nowhere, by Donna Williams. It's her autobiography about growing up as a pretty severely autistic child. Not to mention being horribly neglected and abused by her mother. She ends up as a high functioning autistic. Interesting book. It was published in 1992. I'm going to check out if she's written anything else since. It was very interesting.
Today I feel much better. There's still a lump in my breast, but at this point it's just a clogged duct. The cough is still there. But the aches and pains are pretty much gone. We're supposed to be meeting my sister, her husband and boys at the lake today. Because she has teenage boys, she has the advantage of using them as porters. When we go to the lake, it's just me carrying our bags, rafts, sand toys and food~ so it's kept to a minimum. My sister brings the charcoal, lighter fluid, hamburgers, potato salad, chips, pop, rafts, lawn chairs, blankets, towels, deck of cards, etc. Everyone is lugging something down to the beach. It's hilarious but fun. And she barks out orders to her kids, "Go help your aunt Mandy! Watch Eamon so she can sit down for a few minutes!" I love it.

I got a call from NARM saying there were a "few discrepencies" regarding my portfolio and application. I thought I was gonna vomit on the spot. As if the IRS were calling me. The woman was very sweet and helpful though~ seeming she well understood how stressful the process is. When I thanked her for being so sweet she said they're all midwives who process the portfolios and they're all they're to help bring more midwives into the world. The mistakes were just a couple of dumb things, things that I forgot to write (like that I attended high school on the former education part~ don't know how I did that). She sent me the extra forms to resubmit. She also said my client evaluation form and my professional evaluation form didn't arrive yet. I know about the professional one and its not such a big deal. But the client one I sent off June 24th. I ran into the client I gave it to yesterday and she said she filled it out and mailed it the next day, but would happily re-fill out another. It's these little pain-in-the-ass things that make me stay awake at night. I just want the process to go smoothly.
It looks like I will be taking the written exam in February provided I pass the skills exam and firstly, get through the application process. I'm scared to re-fill out the couple extra forms when the kids are around, because I know that's why the first batch was screwed up.
Where's my Swiss au pair so I can get this shit done?!
It was proven to me yesterday that my study time for the NARM will have to be done away from the house. If I can't even have flu sick day 2 hour nap because all hell breaks loose when mama hits the hay, then I certainly can not study at home unless the kids and Greg are gone.

All right, off for a shower and to get these kids dressed for the day.

finally a website!

www.riversidemidwifery.com

there's so much more I want to add to it, but's it's a start.




message toV.O.: I don't have a current email for you. I sent something to the utah.edu address and it bounced back. Which would make sense since you haven't been at utah.edu for a couple years now! Ooo, and I find Jimmy Doolittle on myspace! He's a nut!

Summer pics

Felt in the mood to post pics. These are lovely Asiatic lillies I planted just this spring. They're about 18 inches tall and so lovely! And I had no way of knowing what color would come up where when I planted the bulbs. So I got lucky with the yellow/red/yellow alternating thing. There's 5 total. I'm so pleased. This particular bed has crap soil in it. Total gravelly, dusty dirt fill. However, some things love it. Like these lilies, the sage and also the lavendar.


And here's poor little Eamon who fell asleep in his swing while Greg was pushing him. We couldn't resist leaving him there and extra 5 minutes while I searched for the camera.

And here's one of the lavendar plants. The picture doesn't do it justice. The base is huge and woody now. I think its 5 years old. The yellow plant next to it is yarrow~ which I need to harvest some leaves and flowers in the very near future for a good friend's future postpartum bath! Along with some lavendar and comfrey...

5K

Greg, my brother and I ran in a 5K yesterday. The first time I've run with a bunch of other people since the Turkey Trot '04, which was a 10K.
It wasn't bad, except there were a couple long stretches (well long enough) in direct sunlight, which I abhor. Like, I don't just get cranky, I get pisssed. It's weird. And even though it was a short run, I didn't like not knowing the run. I've been running the equivalent of a 5K at home, 3-4 times a week. At home it feels fun and almost efforless (I plan my route so there is very littel direct sunlight!). However, not having any magic stop signs, or trees that I was familiar with to make deals with, as in: "Get to that stop sign and see how you feel..." That was hard.
My brother and I crossed the finish line together, Greg a minute or two ahead of us. My brother hasn't run in 2 years. (I wonder how he's feeling today?) We made it in 29.3 minutes. Which isn't fabulous, but it's less than 10 minute miles.
I'm just starting all over again (for the 3rd time). I hope to get a lot more miles with these feet. I feel really good running. If I'm not on-call, I plan on running this year's Turkey Trot. We shall see.

I'm the owner of the bad kid at the pool

Well today I've done a ton of laundry (my usual 4 loads a day~how the hell do we generate that much dirty laundry? don't know but we do), gone to the bank, grocery shopping and to the post office. The NARM beast is GONE! Off in the mail!! Wow. Now all the work comes!
Took the kids to a pool in Ann Arbor to meet up with some other mamas. I think I was yelled at at least 10 times in 30 minutes by 17 year old adolescent girl lifeguards. "Mam, is that your son? He can't do X,Y,Z!!!"
I was so annoyed. They had so many stupid rules. Once Eamon grew bored of the little kids section, he jumped into the deep water (I got a sneer for that), making me go in after him. No big deal. Then he became obsessed with trying to climb up the ladder for the big water slide. The slide he's too little to go down. Made no difference though. How can one ration with a 2 year old? He watched his big sister go down many times. Ugh, it was awful. He screamed and writhed in my arms. Then he bit me and scratched me to let him down. So I packed him up and we left. Sarah has stayed behind for Kate to bring home. Thank goodness she was willing to take her home. Poor Sarah was having a blast (and following rules). She would've been heart broken to leave after a half hour. Eamon fell asleep as soon as we came in the door. Little shit.
I'm pissed because I paid $9.50 to get into this dumb pool only to be yelled at by teenage girls with big egos. And then to hold my son as he threw afull-blown temper tantrum. All the while my friends sat pool side as their docile 2 year olds played quietly and nicely 5 feet away from them.
Where's my kid?
Running on deck ("Slow down and WALK!") Trying to climb the water slide stairs ("Mam, he's too young for the slide!") Crawling all over pool ladders, ropes and poles ("Mam, you need to keep him off of the ropes!") and jumping like a mad man into water that is way too deep for him (SNEER)
Oy vey.

Now I'm waiting for Greg to get home so I can go run. We're running in a little 5K this Saturday.
It's at 9am so it shouldn't be too hot when we go. I keep eating these Trader Joe spicy corn chips. That won't do me good when I'm running.

All right. Off to get out of my swimsuit.

TWO!

No fork required...

Our boy turned TWO yesterday!! Sniffle, sniffle! It was fun when Sarah turned two. But Eamon turning two feels like a real end of babyhood for us. I'm not sure if we'll ever have a #3. My rational side says no, but my emotional side gets all oogly at the thought of another pregnancy, another baby (damn evolutionary urges!). It was a great party and the rain stayed away for the most part. We have our big tree on the deck that helped keep us dry. Eamon received a lot of nice gifts. It took me almost two hours to put together his new wooden kitchen last night. He was asleep by 7pm~ totally wiped out.

Yaay for butter cream frosting and loads of it!! And cheap pizza from College Inn! A nice picture but I wish the umbrella pole wasn't blocking Sarah's face. We have at least a whole hour of very shakey Sarah-cam as she recorded Eamon's party with the camcorder. (I actually remembered to get it out this time.)

Eamon now holds up four fingers and says I'M TWO! He'll get it sooner or later. He's growing up so quick. They both are. Mixed emotions. I feel like I'm in this kind of postpartum blah today. Big party, celebration and now empty boxes and life as usual. No one told me that your kids birthdays would leave you feeling sad. It's a good kind of sad, but still.