Midwestern Mommy

I’ll never forget that first year of Seth’s life. I envisioned us going to the St. Louis zoo, Bontanical Gardens, The Jewel Box, St. Louis Science Center, Laumeier Sculpture Park, and Art Museum so often employees would know us by our first names. I was going to fill his little bunny brain with lots of amazing sights, sounds, textures and tastes.

And then reality gave me a swift kick in the ass.  This little boy had colic. This little boy didn’t sleep. This little boy had alot of ear infections. This little boy wasn’t much of an eater. This little boy screamed. Alot. This little boy proved that he’d inherited his father’s will of steel.

So we spent alot of time in two places — in Target and at various restaurants. (Oh and the grocery story. Excuse me, THREE places. He liked carts for some reason.) Sure there were trips to Maryland, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, and New Orleans. There might have even been a trip or two to the zoo, a museum, and botanical gardens. To be honest, I don’t really remember. He would wake up  four to six times a night. (That first year is hazy.)

But all of those trips to Target worked out. By three years of age, he knew the local store so well he could navigate through the various departments. (He was a like GPS — only full of fuss and poop.)

Yeah, for us the first year was rough. It would have been wonderful to have known back then that there was a huge and amazing community of moms only a click away. Course it would also have been very helpful to know about the book, The Rookie Mom’s Handbag too. (And just so you know, we did visit all of those places and tons of parks during his second and third years. You know, when we were both sleeping better.)

The book is the brilliant idea of the busy chicks behind Rookie Moms. Plus there’s more than 250 activities that moms can do with their babies. How cool is that? Oh and if you want to get a shower gift that’s different and cool and useful, this is a great book!

The Rookie Mom bloggers in conjunction with Parent Bloggers Network would like to know how you spent your first year of motherhood. Post anytime this weekend - Friday, May 9 through Sunday, May 11. Within your post, make sure to link http://www.rookiemoms.com and http://blog.parentbloggers.com then email parentbloggers@gmail.com. with the link to your post. Feel free to get creative with your title!

According to PBN, “you could win one of two fantastic gift bags filled with more than $250 worth of goodies for moms, including the brand new BABYBJÖRN^®Baby Carrier Synergy, a child’s gardening kit from Smith & Hawken, a baby tshirt from Scout Organic Baby, and of course, a copy of The Rookie Mom’s Handbook.  Two winners will be drawn at random. Plus, Heather and Whitney will choose their three favorite posts and feature them on their website!”

S: “Mom, I’ve been thinking alot lately.”

Me: “What about?”

S: “Well, I just don’t know how anyone could not like me.”

Me: “Well, I don’t know how anyone could not like you either.”

S: “I know! Its like….Its IMPOSSIBLE to not like me!”

Me: “You’re right. You’re cute, cuddly, fun and you’re very kind to other people. You’re also very good at sharing and you’re a good friend. What’s not to like about that?”

S: “I know! And I’m good looking and I have LOTS of cool super powers!”

Me: (trying not to giggle.) “Oh and you’re very humble too.”

S: “Yeah. I sure am.”

Uh-huh.

P. S. Speaking of kids… There’s a review (on behalf of Parent Bloggers Network) of Hip Hop Harry’s “Move Those Feet” on Midwestern Mommy Reviews today. If you take care of tiny dancers, you might want to think about this dvd.

P.S.S.Did you know that your uterus can fall out? Yup. And when it does, it apparently looks like a scrotum. Oy! But you know what can go a long way in preventing that? Kegels. (You’ve just freaked out a little after reading that and you’re TOTALLY doing Kegels right now, aren’t ya? Me too! But that’s one of the nuggets we learned during that little campy-camp thingee in New Jersey. Plan to give you the lowdown very, very soon.)

My heart is so heavy these days. 

I have a difficult enough time sleeping. But when I travel its far worse. I’m really weird about noise, pillows, texture of blankets, mattresses and a few other things. Usually I don’t manage more than an hour or two a night when on the road. After awhile the stress of being in a new place and no sleep wear on me. My routine is disrupted, I don’t get any time to myself, and I get really edgy and bitchy. I usually end up with at least one migraine during a trip and several after the trip. (Ask poor Kristie. She was my BlogHer roommate.)

Before the trip I was completely stressed. Things only got worse while on the trip. I took on some projects I thought I could finish while on the trip. I vastly overestimated the time I MIGHT have to get these projects done. I barely slept and had a super nasty migraine over the course of the trip. Honestly, I was ready to go home 12 hours after I got there. And no offense to Texas. Ya’ll have great weather but I seem to get this way anywhere I go these days.

During our last day in Texas, my cell phone died in the middle of a conversation with Marc. Our flight got cancelled. I got angry. Because he was trying to make back up arrangements, he was late in picking us up (he dropped us off at a movie while he went to a meeting). And I when my son asked why daddy wasn’t there yet (we’d be waiting almost three hours.) I had no idea and I assumed the worst. I said something very mean and unfair about Marc which Seth repeated within minutes of seeing Marc.

To make matters worse, I felt betrayed by my son for saying this to Marc. I know! He’s five. How stupid. I had no right to badmouth my husband in front of my son, let alone feel hurt by what Seth repeated to his father. The next day I made my son feel guilty for relaying my comment to Marc.

Oh and did I mention that at one point while in the car with Seth and Marc (we ended up driving home. Yes! At least 11 hours in a car — all of those miles covered in about 20 hours.) Seth was talking and I yelled at him to “Shut up.”

God, I can be so ugly and mean. And I’m so horrified and ashamed. I hadn’t packed enough meds for an extra day so that meant no sleep and a raging migraine. I hurt so bad I seriously thought I should go to the hospital. Most of my energy was directed at not throwing up. Turns out I have a nasty sinus infection now which was probably a reason as to why I was feeling so crappy before as well as during the trip.

My husband is really angry and disgusted with me. I patched things up with Seth but my marriage seems as if it might not recover from this. There have been other fights through the years and I think we are both so tired of fighting. I don’t know how to fix this. I fear its a permanent rift between us. And that really scares and saddens me.

My migraines, sinus issues, and insomnia don’t help. Because there are times, after a good week or so of not sleeping and feeling almost constant pain, I start to feel like a raw, exposed nerve. I seriously start to wonder if I’m on the cusps if I’m losing my mind. I start feeling shakey and sick and weak. My husband doesn’t understand what it is like to live with constant pain. (But I can see how it would suck to live with me.) I start to get depressed. I’ve tried all sorts of medications to help. So far what I’m on now has been the best way to stave off migraines but even the meds are no match for all of the triggers that can set off a migraine. (It is better now. But I still get weeks where I’ll have 4-6 migraines in one week.)

But insomnia, sinus issues, and migraines aside, I feel so ashamed of my behavior to the two men I love dearly. When I apologized to Seth again today he said, “Don’t worry mom. You were just having a few bad days.” I feel like I don’t deserve his love. Even now, the whole thing just reduces me to tears. And I’m working on taking some steps that will hopefully prove to be constructive. I feel like I’ve sunk to an all time low. I didn’t control my frustration and got irrationally angry. And I took it out on two people I love the most.

So I’m sorry about not visiting. I’m sorry this is so heavy and depressing. I’m sorry I can be so toxic. Trolls, or anyone for that matter, if you want to tell me what a horrible bitch I am, you are more than welcomed to. Because I deserve it. I did act like a totally selfish, horrible, ugly, hateful person. And I’m so horrified. But I just wanted to let you guys know why I haven’t been around. I felt like I owed ya’ll an explanation.

Oh and I wrote a review for Building Bobland Bay for Parent Bloggers Network. If you are interested click HERE.

Disclaimer: This is a gross story. And frankly, it is in terrible taste. But this is what comes with raising a boy — or at least one with the genetics of Seth’s kind – so proceed with caution.

Five days ago, I cleaned all three bathrooms, scrubbing sinks, toilets, tubs and floors. Two days later, while passing by “the boy’s” bathroom, I smelled a strong unpleasant odor. I moved the wastebasket next to the toilet and found a BIG puddle of pee.

Did you know that as urine begins to dry, the outsides of the puddle crystalize, yet the inside portion takes on a whole other property? (Most moms with boys know this.) It is nasty, nasty, nasty! Yeah, I didn’t know that until I had a little boy with really BAD aim.

There was also a puddle behind the tank of the toilet and a small amount in front of the bowl. I was PISSED. (Pun intended.)

The lack of trying within the “aiming department” is nothing new. I’ve kvetched, cajoled, and have gotten incredibly cranky before. He’s even had to clean up some of the mess a few times but that didn’t seem to bother him. Once I even told him I was going to start charging him a $1 to clean up the really nasty spills. (He gets an allowance now for certain chores.). Forking over a buck didn’t bother him in the least.

So this time?

“Peeing while standing up is a privilege. And you just lost it for a week,” I said. “From now on, if you’ve got to go, you SIT on the toilet – LIKE A GIRL!”  

A look of horror and dread filled his face. I watched the notion sink in. The idea tortured his manly little soul.

“NNNNNooooooooooooooo,” he screamed desperately. “I’ll do better next time! I promise!”

 ”Pfft. I’ve heard that before,” I retorted. “I’m tired of cleaning up your messes. Its disgusting. You’ve got to pay more attention to your aim. If you can’t do that, you’ve got to sit down.”

Its been three days. Each day he asks, several times, when his “privilege” will be restored. While he IS sitting down, he still ends up “spraying” some odd places. That’s not helping his cause. I think I might tack on some extra days to his “sentence.” I hope with all my heart that someday he fathers four boys who can’t aim worth a damn and HE’s the one with bathroom duty.

Just wait child. Karma! That’s all I’ve got say.

On another note, how do the rest of you moms nip this behavior in the bud?

Little boys. They sure do love their mamas. This, in my opinion, is a little boy’s most endearing quality. 

Little boys are simple creatures. But they are also whirlwinds of big adventure. (Thankfully most are easily amused. You can spend an entire hour in the car keeping a little boy entertained armed with nothing but fart jokes.) 

At least once a day, while I hug my little man, it dawns on me. Someday my little boy won’t be so little. Someday he will refuse to snuggle with me. Someday his little motormouth will quiet and he’ll skulk around the house, with peach fuzz sprouting above his lip. Someday he’ll be too embarrassed to walk beside me in public.

But for now, I savor how he happily holds my hand when we cross the street. He’ll kiss me in front of his friends. For now, he wants to marry me. For now, whenever the hubby is out of town, he begs to sleep in my bed — on his daddy’s side. And I happily let him.

There is so much love in a little boy heart. How can you not find that utterly adoreable? How can you not giggle?

How can Seth’s father NOT laugh then shake his head as he jokingly refers to the boy as “young Oedipus”?

(P.S. Earlier this year, Marc’s cousin Amanda found out she had cancer. Being the dynamic rocker chick she is, she’s been trying to give this cancer a badass beatin’.  Recently she has been moved to hospice. Please keep her, her honey, her parents, sister, step-dad and step-sis in your prayers. Please join us in praying for a miracle. Or if you aren’t the praying type please send healthy, healing vibes to Amanda in Arizona. Thanks.)

When Seth was an itty, bitty bunny, he loved to dance — especially when it came to 70’s and 80’s music. Shaking our groove thangs was fun exercise. So we’d do some jammin’ fairly often. (This move is called the “Hey Baby. What’s your sign?”) Yes, this Baby loves Disco . (Still does!) He definitely had the Stride Rite!  

So this photo is in honor of the “the bun” of yester years as well as the Best Little Dancer in America Contest.

Interested in checking out other contest entries? Go to Parent Bloggers Network to see more.

P.S. Don’t forget to drop a comment here for a chance to win a DVD. Just let me know which one (or both) you’d like to be entered in. Seth will choose the winner at 8:30 tonight. Winners will be e-mailed.)

Last Monday afternoon “the boy’s” kindergarten teacher called to express some concerns about his behavior.

After only one week of school.

The teacher became greatly alarmed over the course of a few days when she tried to get Seth’s attention and couldn’t. She tried calling his name in a louder voice. She even tried clapping. While this got the other kids’ attention, Seth didn’t notice. She asked about his recent hearing test. And I had a conversation with her I’ll probably have with every teacher that crosses Seth’s path. In short? His hearing is fine. He has what I call “selective hearing” — just like his father.

If you are two inches from my hubby’s face and ask him to do something he doesn’t want to do? He chooses not to hear you. I’ve noticed Seth also possess this “amazing” (and by “amazing, I mean, “completely infuriating”) ability to block out what he considers useless information (aka bedtimes, rules, various directives, etc.). And if you try to talk to either one of them while the tv is on? Let’s just say, your time would be better spent talking to an empty fish tank or the sludge that still may be in said fish tank.

So the teacher and I discussed tactics on how to get Seth to listen. I haven’t told her how I’ve tried for years and continue each day. I also didn’t share the fact that I’m tempted to place shock collars on both of them while sleeping. (Being that Marc’s “habit” is more ingrained, I already know what voltage I want to use!**) That might freak her out. But give her a few months. After having this same conversation a fourth or fifth time? Methinks she’ll come around.  

**A modest amount of voltage, like the “funky chicken dance” setting. Ok so maybe that would be considered a TEENY bit more than “modest”.

P.S. Dear DCFS, I’d NEVER really do this to my son. My husband? Well, that’s an entirely different proposition.

P.S.S. THANK YOU to the lovely ladies who gave me their wise input regarding the “second kid conundrum” post. I’ve read your words repeatedly. A decision to have or not to have another child hasn’t been reached because it seems neither decision feels right at this time. (My husband would be happy with one child or more.) So I’ve felt sort of stuck. But thanks to you all, you’ve given me some wonderful guidance, points and counterpoints.)

For years, I swore that on Seth’s first day of kindergarten? You’d find me waiting with him at the bus stop doing a happy dance while drinking margaritas.

As I drove him to school on that first day, I was actually pretty teary-eyed. I left my sunglasses on while inside the school because I’d rather the staff and his teacher think I’m a vampire than know the truth — that I was a sniffling, quivering mess of snot. After dropping him off, I cried then decided I needed ice cream. And lots of it. Yes, ice cream does indeed make everything better. 

Other moms who dropped their kids off didn’t seem to have the waterworks problem. I envied them. So calm. So together. So not red-faced as mascara made tracks down their cheeks.

Seth was ready to let go. He’s been begging to go to kindergarten for two years now. He’s a social little man and is very eager to find his place in his little society. Its just that his mama wasn’t nearly as ready.

But I’m over it now. He’s having fun. He’s learning. For three hours a day, he drives his teacher crazy — not me. (Fifteen hours a week of quiet time! I guess I no longer have an excuse for the mold growing in the master bath’s shower… Course with 15 hours of weekly free time, I could figure out how to turn that junk into penicillin, package it, then develop a marketing campaign. Hmmmm.)

The only question that remains? When will “Tweed” make an appearance in school? Or the on the bus? It will happen soon no doubt. (Shudder.)

But this week has found me thinking an awful lot about some other moms with kiddos entering kindergarten. Hopefully  they’ll post their stories as well. Any more moms with kindergartners? Let me know, I want to lick you! Wait, uh, LINK you!)