:: in which I am useless
My prediction about Five Minutes was spot on.
We did get the keys to our new house. We did buy paint.
(Dear geometry teacher, Why didn’t we just calculate how much paint a house needs, including hallways, in geometry class? That would have been so useful. Oh, I never took geometry. Right. And this is why my children are playing with pattern blocks and tangrams.)
And over the course of two full days “working” on the new house, I “worked” for approximately 35 minutes. It took four separate tries to sweep up the smallest room in the house. And I did a lovely job of priming a two foot section of wall down near the molding.
It was funny.
But at the end of the weekend, I decided that enough was enough and I would return with the children to our regularly scheduled life and get out of the way of progress.
Personally, I think Kiri likes to fuss at the new house because her voice echoes in the empty space.
We love our little house and I’m getting anxious to move in. We had planned to do X, Y, and Z before moving in, but now I’m getting antsy and wondering what things on that list we can postpone to a “Sunday project”.
:: in which I tell a story
So we brought some friends over to show them our new house. It was a summery evening. The kids were playing, the adults were chatting, the babies were enjoying the echoes.
A wail arose from the backyard.
And I said to Marni as we rushed out the back door, “I wonder if we’re going to the hospital.” (I’m always wondering if we’re going to the hospital when I hear a wail.)
Levi had been running on the grass when he tripped and his mouth landed on the raised patio. Chipped front teeth, with one pushed back out of place.
As we left Urgent Care that evening (with only a dose of tylenol and a tetanus shot), I just couldn’t help but be terribly relieved. We’ve been to the ER in life-threatening situations, and chipped teeth just seem so…comparatively easy. Like we’ve escaped tragedy once again. Worthy of a little skip and a jump on the way out.
Poor little fella, all banged up. But he’s on the mend and I think that tooth is moving forward again, yay.
Thus we have baptized our house. It is now a home.
And somewhere in the grass are two little pieces of teeth.
:: in which I make a shift
I was mulling over my life recently and the image that came to mind was a ship. A ship on a stormy sea, being battered and beaten, blown off course, tossed with the waves, deluged. But the ship still struggles on. The ship Must. Keep. Moving. Forward. or risk sinking.
I’m tired of being that ship.
In an effort to find some new methods of coping, I would go back to a particularly trying point of the day and see if, hours removed, I could formulate a better way of handling it, a more peaceful and less wild-eyed way of existing in its midst. But just thinking about said part of the day would raise my hackles and I would find no workable alternatives that didn’t start and end with something that sounded very much like, “failing again, oh yes you are.”
I treated myself to a copy of Jamie Martin’s Mindset for Moms (less than $5 with Mother’s Day coming right up!) and have been working my way through it, using her chapter titles as mantras.
This week, I’ve been working REALLY HARD on my self-talk. Stopping anything remotely negative in its tracks. Stopping that annoying and currently useless habit of analyzing stuff (is this good or bad? do I feel good or bad about this? oh no! I feel bad! why do I feel bad? what can I do to feel good?…it hasn’t been helping at all).
Instead I’ve been visualizing another ship. (What’s with the ships?)
This ship is also moving forward towards a destination. But it’s sunny, and the sky is blue, and the sea is wide and calm, and the breeze is light. And the ship is smiling. (Because, obviously, I’m supposed to be the ship. And I like to smile.)
This ship on it’s open sea has been enormously helpful to me. When in the midst of what I would previously experience as that Stormy Ship, I think about that other ship on it’s sunny sea. I like that ship.
:: in which I seek advice or commiseration
Bedtime around these parts is 7ish. Everyone is asleep by 8 usually. And then between bedtime and about 11:30, Levi and Kiri play tag.
First Kiri wakes up (she’s up right now, as a matter of fact) and I nurse her back to sleep.
Then Levi wakes up and either wants water, his diaper changed, or goes non-verbal and just cries and cries.
Get him back to sleep and pretty soon Kiri wakes up.
And so on and so forth.
I suspect that Levi is generally overtired on these nights. He has recently gotten rid of naps (and if he has even a short one, he won’t fall asleep until about 9 and wake up the next day even more tired).
Kiri, though, I don’t know why she does this. After about 11, she wakes up her ‘normal’ amount – every two or so hours.
But during the evenings I only have segments of about 20 to 45 minutes when everyone is sleeping at the same time. And they’re pushing it so late I’m losing sleep and am getting really tired. More than usual.
Dish up, friends. Advice or commiseration desired.