The Dance

My brother will never dance with my mom at his wedding.

It’s weird how that is one of the things that resonates so strongly with me.  That thought first hit me when my mom was laying in the hospital during her last days, and it has come back to me often.

A moment.  That will never be.  Lost.

I’ve cried for that lost moment many times.  

Dancing with Joe at my wedding

My brother, Joseph’s relationship with my mom was very different than mine.  They didn’t talk every day.  They drove each other simultaneously crazy.  My mom with her hovering, my brother with his fierce independent streak.  They both struggled to be able to give the other what they needed.  

But they loved each other in the purest of  ways.  Fiercely.  My brother with the fiercest of loyalty and my mom with the fiercest of heart.  The two of them, beacons of strength.  So different but so the same.  

When my mom died it was Joseph that I worried the most for.  He’s the strong silent type keeping a lot inside.  A rock.  His silent sobs at her burial were my undoing.  My already broken heart shattered.  The weight of all the moments that would never be turned me inside out.

My brother will never dance with my mom at his wedding.

That sentence paralyzes me.  It is the very essence that haunts the inner corners of my heart.  A worry so deep I don’t know how to break its hold. 

Because,

I am a mom.

I have a son (I have two sons).

I will dance with them at their wedding. 

Re-charged

I love being a mom. I love my kids. I love my job. I love my husband. But boy have I been tired.

Matt and I don't live close to any of our family so time alone has been pretty non-existent since Sam was born. Juggling jobs and kids and the house and everything that comes along with all of that left us a little flat. Left me going through the motions more often than I would like.

So when Matt got the opportunity to head to Aspen for work (a hard assignment covering the Food and Wine Classic) and Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny agreed to watch the kids, we booked the first flight out and the last flight back.

Victoria's Amazing latte, me and my culinary idol Jose Andres, Lunch - wine included

Matt had to work during the days so I did some walking along some beautiful Aspen trails, window shopped along the amazing Aspen shops, people watched, drank amazing lattes (Thank you Victoria's), sipped yummy wines and had leisurely lunches and read some good books. I even got to rub elbows with a couple of my favorite celebrity chefs.

Some beautiful views and a refreshed Mom and Dad

The evenings were spent reconnecting with Matt. Sharing meals and wine and conversation that went beyond diapers and bed times and the daily doings of our two little monsters. Don't get me wrong, there was plenty of talking about the kids, but also plenty of talking -- just talking. It was nice. And I think it is just what we needed.

I drowned myself in the clean Mountain Air, stuck my feet in the Roaring Fork River, spent some time inside my own head and enjoyed not having deadlines or schedules or anyone but me to answer too. It's been a very long time since I had that kind of time to myself.

I missed the kids. I missed the kids like crazy. Grandma Barb would send us videos each day which both made my heart swell and sting at the same time.

But the time away was rejuvenating.  Even though we got in late Sunday night (or actually very early Monday morning), I have a renewed energy, especially when it comes to being a mom.

We are so very grateful for Grandma Barb and Grandpa Lanny and this opportunity they gave us to recharge.  And the boys . . . well they had the time of their life.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Grandma and Grandpa may have spoiled them just a little :-).  They have decided they no longer like to wear pants.  They talk more, run more, climb more.  I swear they grew like whole years while we were gone. 

My monkeys -- sans pants!

Enough is Enough

I am lucky to have a lot of mommy friends - or friends that are moms.  Most of them I knew long before the idea of kids even crossed our minds.  They are all amazing women, amazing friends and REALLY amazing moms.

Some breastfed past their baby's first birthday, some struggled to make it to the 6 month mark, some struggled to get started - watching their baby loose weight - and agonized over turning to formula rather than put their baby's health at risk, and some decided that breastfeeding wasn't for them. 

New moms do what new moms do and share their struggles looking for support and understanding and compassion and advice.  I was surprised at what a struggle breastfeeding was, pretty universally, across the board.  And what makes this even harder is the pressure that society puts on new moms.  The constant messages and images that define what a "good mom" looks like, what a "good mom" does.

I've watched this pressure turn logical, brilliant, strong women inside out.

The pressure turned me inside out.  With both of my babies I was determined to breastfeed until the 6 month mark.  But with both of my babies my supply plummeted when I went back to work.  I exhausted myself pumping and feeding around the clock, while working an intense full time job.  I snuck in extra pump sessions at work, gave up my lunch break, pumped in the car on the way to and from work and dissolved into a mess when I would come home and still not have enough for the next day of day care.

Every time I added formula to a bottle to make up the difference I felt like a failure.  I felt like I was doing it wrong.  And at the 5 and a half month mark with both babies, I sobbed as I made the decision to move exclusively to formula.  A decision that was right for me, my sanity, my marriage and my kids.  But that decision made me feel ashamed, made me feel like I wasn't doing the best I could, made me feel inferior.

Where the hell does this pressure come from?  Why is doing the best you can not good enough?  Why do we as moms feel like we have to compete with the best of every other mom or some ideal defined by society?

And breastfeeding is just one of the many many many topics that invoke this self doubt.  Cosleeping, sleep training, baby wearing, organic baby food, homemade baby food, cloth diapers, working, staying home.

It has to stop!  We are creating a generation of moms that constantly judge themselves against an unrealistic ideal.  We are creating a generation of moms who feel like they don't measure up.

There is no "one size fits all" guide to parenting.  There is no formula on how to do it right.  Parenting is not black and white, right and wrong.  Parenting is knowing your baby and trusting your instincts.  Parenting is trial and error and finding what works for you.  Parenting is a journey down a path that winds and splits off in many directions.  Parenting is making the best decision at that moment, celebrating when you took the right path and course correcting when you made a wrong turn.  Parenting is loving, beyond all else, parenting is loving. 

I wish my mom were here so I could ask her if she struggled with these same doubts.  If she had the same nagging feeling that, despite everything she did, she just wasn't doing enough good enough.  Is this just a side effect of being a mom or something else?

Regardless of the answer, there is one thing for sure, the media exploits this desperate need to be the best mom for our children.  They prey on our insecurities, our doubts, our gut wrenching instinct to do everything we can to give our children the best we have.  And to that I say enough is enough.  We are good enough.  In fact, we are better than good enough!

What I Learned about my Kids in 30 Hours

Last Thursday we embarked on a great adventure (or insanely bad idea) -- a trip to Florida. In the car!  Have I mentioned I have a 2 year old and a 1 year old?

For those of you doing the math, that's more than 30 hours of drive time. Not counting meals and stops for the boys to run around and expel energy.

By just about every measure it was a success. The boys handled the car like champs - better than I could have hoped for.

Hour 6 -- Teddy Graham Pit Stop

I thought I knew my kids inside and out but all that time confined to a small space I learned some new things.

Like how Sam likes to sing along to his favorite Sesame Street songs -- and he knows most of the words!

Like how Will likes to do the hand motions to Itsy Bits Spider.

That Sam has a generous heart and would quickly hand over his favorite toy to try to cheer his brother up.

How Sam loves digger trucks and water.  He thinks any kind of water is the Ocean and proclaims it loudly.

Will claps along to songs he likes.

They love to hold hands and laugh at each other.

They have their own language that consists of loud, high pitched shrieks.  Apparently what they say to each other is hysterical because fits of giggles always follow.

Sam narrates every minute of life.

Will points to something he wants and says "this."

Most of all I was reminded how lucky I am to have been chosen to be their Mom.  In the hustle and bustle of the every day it's easy to get frustrated at the little things, go through the motions and miss the moments that make memories.  But this weekend I got over 30 hours of uninterrupted moments with my boys and I enjoyed every one of them (well almost!)

I Interrupt this Regularly Scheduled Blog Post

I'm pretty excited about today! 

Why? You may ask.

Well, because I'm making my guest blogger debut over at Merelymothers.

I've been totally loving having this outlet to pour my heart into.  It's helped me process, helped me stay honest with myself, motivated me to keep training and generated a fair amount of donations for breast cancer research.  So when the opportunity to share my heart with another audience came I was both excited and kind of petrified.
It's pretty safe here.  Most the folks that read my blog know me.  They send encouraging words or at least bite their tongue when they don't agree with me.  Venturing out into the bigger blogging world is a little bit scary.  Kind of like starting a new job or going to a new school.  Not knowing if anyone is going to like you or want to sit with you at lunch or pick you for their kick ball team.  But most good things come when you stretch outside your comfort zone.  So stretch I will.

Merelymothers was created by a group of stay at home mom's as a place to share their thoughts and recommendations and support to other mom's.  One of the founding members, Dawn, has been a friend of Matt and mine for a long time and I've loved watching her little girl grow!

While I am not a stay at home mom, I think there are so many things that connect us as mothers regardless of your status as a domestic goddess or working warrior.  We face many of the same challenges, conquer the same obstacles, celebrate the same triumphs.  We are all MOMs!  And this sisterhood of motherhood and womanhood is just what I am celebrating today over at Merelymothers.  So head on over there and check it out.  
--Amanda

The Times they are a Changing

When Will was still a little bit of a thing Matt started playing soft ball once a week.  I came to DREAD Tuesday nights.  The chaos of juggling a newborn and a young toddler was enough to drive me to bottles of wine and Advil. 

There was no good way to get them both to bed.  Will needed to be rocked until he was O. U. T. but I couldn't leave Sam alone while I tried to lull the cranky baby into sleep land.  I couldn't put Sam to bed first because if I left Will's sight he would shriek at the top of his lungs making it impossible to settle the toddler who was learning to assert his independence by fighting bed time. 

It was a juggling act that usually ended in tears from all parties. 

So when Matt announced last week that soft ball was starting up I wanted to curl into a ball, put my hands over my ears and pretend it wasn't so.  I think I even grumbled about it to him.  The memories of those horrible nights a year ago came flooding back.  Can you have PTSD from the terror imparted by your children? 

BUT

Could this kid be any cooler?

It was fine.  Last night Matt headed to his soft ball game and the boys and I settled into our nightly routine.  Dinner, then play time, then bed.  I changed up Will's routine a little to minimize the amount of time that Sam would be left alone to his own devices and Will rolled with the flow.  Not a peep when I layed him down in his crib after some family snuggles on the couch.  And Sam sat quietly watching Sprout's Good Night show for the couple of minutes I left him alone. 

I was free to spend a few quality minutes loving on my big boy and then focus on getting him to bed.  Both boys were quiet and asleep within 20 minutes of each other.  I was amazed.   I even vacuumed the family room! 

Does someone have a cape I can borrow?  Because ya'll I felt like Super Mom! 

My babies are growing up and while I have twinges of grief for their early days we are settling into this stage of life quite well and I'm really enjoying it. 

Dear Target, Parent's are People Too!

 I'm not usually a mommy rant kind of person.  I am well aware that in return for the blessings my children bestow on me there would be things we'd be giving up.  I know better than to take my kids into high end shops.  And Matt and I always choose a place that is loud and accommodating to kids when we take them out to eat.  Sure, I'm trying to teach my kids how to behave in public but the bottom line is they are 1 and 2.  I'm realistic, I know their limitations and boundaries and I don't force them into situations that are bad for them and would be disruptive to others. 

All this is a big set up to today's events.

It's a rainy, icky day today so after Little Gym I met Matt at Target.  I've been needing to pick up some walking gear  (I'm still wearing my maternity yoga pants and they just aren't cutting it anymore).  A couple of friends told me the Champion line at Target was pretty solid gear. 

Matt and I split up -- he took Sam to look for some things for his car and I took Will into the active wear.  I spent a while going through the racks and picking out a cart full or shirts and pants and other necessities to try on.  Will was on his best behavior (a rare and very welcome occurrence).

When I went to try them on the woman at the counter told me I could not take my cart with me.  I looked from Will to her and back to Will.  I asked her how people with small Children could try on clothes.  She rolled her eyes at me and said "Fine, but you can only take in 6 things and you must leave the rest out here."

OK, great.  Thanks - I could do that.  Just give me a minute to sort my cart load of clothes into piles of 6.  Once I had my piles sorted and the first 6 ready to go I turned back to her and asked her if there was somewhere I could put the rest of the clothes while I tried on the 6 I was allowed.

Another eye roll (my temperature started to rise).  She told me if I left them out there someone could take them and put them away.  This lady was definitely not interested in trying to make this easy for me which I pointed out to her.  She went on to tell me that she "was just telling me where I couldn't leave them."  I countered that I had not asked where I couldn't leave them but had asked where I COULD leave them.  She repeated that if I left them out someone could put them away. 

This was going nowhere fast and admittedly I was growing angry. 

It ended with me leaving my five neat piles of six articles a piece on her counter and letting her know that her customer service left much to be desired.

On may way out I raised it to the manager who assured me that the actions did not represent Target's philosophy.  Nice to know but it didn't make me feel much better.  It was a complete waste of an hour.  I had a tired and hungry baby but nothing to show for it.

Listen, I know everyone's time is stretched to the max, I'm not the first or the last person who is juggling work and kids and home and life.  I don't expect special accommodations.  I'll follow the rules.  But I'm a mom.  I'm rarely not attached to at least one of my kids and I still need to get things done efficiently.  And the fact that this woman today made me feel like such a burden on her really got me hot.  I was in TARGET for the love of all things.  I would venture to say that a hefty portion of their profits come from parent's of kids - they have one of the largest baby sections outside of Babies R Us.

So I left Target with an empty cart -- no walking gear and Target lost my business.  I'm one mom - so I know I don't mean much in the grand scheme of things to Target but it left a sour taste in my mouth and will have me looking to other options before going back there again. 

The Scary Side of Being a Parent

Last week I heard that an eighth grader in my town, someone's little boy, took his life.  As a mom, the mere thought of this tares me into pieces.  It makes my heart ache for that child, for that child's parents, that child's family.  It scares me to pieces that something can make a child feel things are helpless, hopeless. 

Then today I read this.  And Oh. My. Gosh.  Being a parent is so frightening.  I looked at my little monsters tonight, whose lives' are entrusted to me, and realized that right now this is the easy stuff.  I've stumbled through the last 2+ years in various states of exhaustion covered in spit up and snot and who knows what other bodily fluids.  I've rocked and burped and nursed and fed and bathed and clothed and rocked and cuddled and rocked these babies into the wee hours of the night (morning).   I've worried about fevers and coughs and sniffles and bumps and ultrasounds and blood tests.  And they have returned this outpouring of love with giggles and babbles and snuggles and coos and I love yous.  All of this has been the easy stuff. 

What lies ahead, that's the hard stuff.  How do I teach them that hope exists even in the darkest moments?  How do I instill in them self confidence and resiliency?  How do I teach them kindness towards others, empathy and compassion?  How do I make sure they know that no matter what - NO MATTER WHAT - their mom and dad are there for them, love them and can help them through anything they face? 

There's no guide book for this and despite my best efforts I tremble thinking that I might get it wrong.  Or worse, that I'll get it right but it won't matter. 

Kids say the Darndest Things

Yesterday when I got the boys up we all boisterously sang Happy Birthday to Will.  Sam loved every second of it.  I quickly got them dressed and ready for school.

I was walking Sam out to the car in the beautiful 60 degree weather when he stopped dead in his tracks and said "Gama! Happy Birthday to you Gama!"

I. Kid. You. Not.

I don't know where it came from.  We hadn't talked about Grandma Linda all morning.  I hadn't made a big deal of her birthday to the boys.  It was completely out of nowhere.

Sort of makes you wonder, huh?

Brotherly Love

 

Yesterday I was driving my boys to daycare.  Will was not happy about being in his car seat and was screaming.

All of a sudden Sam started singing a song for his brother.  "Will, will, crying crying.  Will, Will yay!"  (He's destined for stardom!) Followed shortly by demands, "Will, hand.  Will, hand."

I looked in my rear view mirror just in time to watch them each reach out their little arms to hold hands.  Fits of giggles from both followed.

My. Heart. Exploded.  I freaking LOVE these kids.  How darn lucky am I?  How darn lucky are they to have each other?

Sure, there will be fights . . . there already are.  Sure, they'll compete with each other.  Sure they'll get on each others nerves.  That's normal, expected.

But I hope they will always know brotherly love.  I hope they are each others' best friend, at the end of the day, when all their other friends have gone home.  I hope Sam continues to stick up for his little brother, Will, when other kids steal his toys.  I hope that Will protects Sam's feelings when one day another kid tries to hurt them.   I hope in the the face of adversity they stand united. I hope when one triumphs they celebrate together.  I hope they hold and build each other up.   

While they may go their own ways, like their own things, have their own friends -- I hope my boys grow to know what I see today -- that there is nothing stronger, or more real, than true brotherly love.