Germs

In a familiar turn of events, a member of my household is sick. This has been the winter of germs. Cold, after cold, after cold. Two episodes of Scarlet Fever. Yes, that happened twice. Asthma off and on and off and on. Teething. Sweetbabyjesus the teething. A sick husband (which, of course, is tantamount to the end of the world). And now a stomach bug. I am so very over the sickies. I mean, D.O.N.E. Done.

I hereby proclaim that sickness is no longer welcome and/or allowed here. There will be no more missed school and/or work days in this family this year. There will be no more sick visits to the doctor. There will be no more cold medicine bought. There will be no more antibiotics taken. There will be no more vomit-covered laundry. There will be no more nights interrupted every 45 minutes by a vomiting, or coughing, or screaming, or refusing to sleep, or whothehellknowswhyhewon'tsleep child.

Please note that we are now a sick-free zone. Please, fortheloveofallthingsholy keep your sickness to yourself. Momma can't handle any more sick boys. For real.


Today's Lesson: Germs love my family. And I, clearly, have no idea who to keep them at bay.

Bust a Move

I was at home, my day off (every Monday), just me and baby E. We were listening to music, dancing around the kitchen. He was begging me to hold him and dance. I was trying to get him to dance on his own. He used to, but lately wants me to hold him instead. Most of the time I love it. But sometimes, well, he's getting kind of heavy. And, really, he kinda cramps my groove style.

For a second I had one of those moments when you can see yourself from outside of yourself. You know what I mean? I realized, in that brief moment, I totally dance like my mom. As in, I could see her dancing around the kitchen with us (my brother and me), when we were really little. One of those random flashes that you're fairly certain is actually a memory, but there's enough cloudiness that you're not absolutely sure. And then I saw myself, and realized I move just like her. It's funny, particularly since I don't remember the last time I saw her dance at all. You know, we just haven't been in dance-worthy or dance-appropriate situations.

At any rate, we're grooving around, me and my baby E. He is finally busting out his own moves. And they look like neither mine or my mama's. "Hey E, do you have moves like Jagger?" "No, momma, no moves like boogers. Baby E move like Kid!" Cue momma, laughing hysterically. Cue baby E grinning from ear to ear. Cue him really groovin'.

Those boys both have moves. And I gotta say, I hope they got them from their birth parents. 'Cause the ones they could get from me are not so impressive. And we'll not even talk about their Poppa's.


Today's Lesson: There comes a moment when your children realize that you are no longer cool. I don't know when that moment will come, but I am so grateful that it hasn't hit yet.

Introspection

Lately I've been thinking a lot about who I was pre-children versus who I am now. One of the things I've focused on is my professional self.

Before the kid came along, (as I've mentioned before) I worked for our state's child protective services and a home visitation program for first time parents for a total of about 6 years. Somewhat regularly I was asked if I had kids. I typically responded that I didn't, but that I did have lots of education and experience (along the lines of men don't have babies, but they can still be OB's). No one ever pushed me on it. I fully believed that whether or not I had children made no difference in how I did my job, or in my competency. And in a way it didn't.

But, I realize now that in other ways it did.

I never understood how someone could shake his/her baby, until I was standing on that precipice myself. Intellectually, I knew that people got frustrated, but to actually feel intense anger for this tiny, innocent baby who I loved, well, that rocked me. That moment forever changed me, personally and professionally. And, to be honest, there have been many of those moments over the last 7 years. So many.

While those moments specifically don't make me a better social worker, they do affect the way I view the parents with whom I am working. I find myself being both more empathetic at times, and less tolerant at others.

What I think I've come to is this - it's not that I am necessarily better at my job now that I am parenting. It's that I am different in the way I approach my job (and by "job", I mean being a social worker in general). Fortunately, I am a much better social worker than I was 13yrs ago, fresh out of school. I attribute that to experience and time. Some of that experience I have gotten from other children/parents/families. A lot of it, though, I have gotten from my own children/parenting/family.

I think we don't have to have done something ourselves to understand how to do it. But, the doing of it, well, that changes our perspectives. It, I suppose, makes things more personal. And that can either hinder or help, depending on the situation.


Today's Lesson: Apparently feeling disconnected from the rest of your life can leave you with lots of time for introspection. Whether or not that is a good thing, well, that I have yet to determine.

Love in Suits

Just after I posted about feeling disconnected (I mean, literally, less than an hour later), all 3 of my boys surprised me at work. They were dressed up (button up shirts, khakis, hubby in a suit) with roses for me. It was slow at that time so we walked around and just chatted. It was nice.

 

 

I am blessed.

 

 

Today's Lesson: My children are in dire need of dress shoes. Or I need to show their father where they are. One of those two.

Disconnected

Lately I've been feeling disconnected, really, from just about everything. And - fortunately - not disconnected in the whole "I hate my life/self/work/family/etc.../I'm depressed" kind of way. I'm not really sure how to describe it. But I know it's related to why I haven't been blogging much over the last couple of months.

It's an interesting place to sit.

I feel disconnected from the blog-o-sphere. I've been reading blogs, and trying to comment some, but not feeling like I have words *I* need to share here in this space. I want to offer you all support, but I'm not feeling like I have the words to do so (either here, or via commenting on your blogs). So, please don't be offended. Really, it's me not you ;)

I feel disconnected from work. I'm coming to work, doing my job as expected. But I don't feel the passion right now. Heck, I don't even feel the compassion like I typically do. At the same time, I also seem to be able to deal with those patients I generally find especially frustrating, without that normal irritation. And I don't take the worry home with me as can happen sometimes. I'm able to know I've done what I can do, and then let it go.

I feel disconnected from my friends. For a variety of reasons (work, family, general chaos), I haven't spent much time with them in months. And it's left me feeling awkward when we are together, not quite knowing what to say. Me. Not knowing what to say. It's weird.

I feel disconnected from my husband. I don't remember the last time we had a real heart-to-heart conversation. This, too, has happened for a multitude of reasons, my crazy work schedule certainly being one of them. There's also this awkwardness in the stage we're in. So focused on parenting, but struggling to do it the same way, since we're so disconnected in our own relationship.

I even feel disconnected from my children. While I recognize this isn't good overall, at the same time it's afforded me some space to try to parent in a different way. Honestly, a way I much prefer. A way I think is much healthier for me and especially my children.

This bit of a distance that's come about (I don't know how) seems to be allowing me to be more patient (with all three of my "boys"). It's seems to be helping me to not get so easily frustrated. To not yell as quickly. To, perhaps, be more patient. It's seems to be allowing me to not take their behaviors that I find annoying, for what they are - their behaviors, not something done intentionally to irritate me. Behaviors that are done instead with the intention of getting some kind of need of their own met. And this distance is allowing me to ferret out what those needs are, instead of focusing on my own reaction and frustration.

So here I am. Disconnected. Not sure how I feel about it. Very sad in some ways. And yet healthier in others.

It's an interesting place to sit.


Today's Lesson: Change, short term or long term, is always a double edged sword.

I'll Make it Up to You

I've been a horrible blogger of late. Sorry about that, y'all. I'm going to try to do better. But, until I get myself together, I just had to share this blog with you. Because I love it. It says something that I agree with wholeheartedly. So, here ya go...

I Became a Mother, and Died to Live @ Renegade Mothering

Read it, mull it over, then read it again. Hope it speaks to you as well.


Today's Lesson: Carefully consider the names you give your offspring. Some names just seem to predetermine the life's path of a child. And not in a good way. And how I wish I could give you examples. But, suffice to say, "Methe" is not a good name for a girl. Or a boy, come to think of it.

7 Years

Every year for the last 7 years we've celebrated the Superbowl with the same group of people - our camping friends. We get together, eat good camping food, plan this year's camping trips, and then we leave to put our kids to bed. Well, I mean, I'm sure some people actually stay and watch the game, but I could care less. Yes, even about the commercials. Plus, we really do have to get the kids to bed.

I've told you the last few years why the Superbowl is important to us - it's the day we first met the kid's birth parents, the day we learned that after so many years, we were finally going to be parents. But it was at this same party that we got to finally say out loud what we'd wanted to say for so long. So, the fact that we're still celebrating this day with many of the same people, well, it makes it even more special for me.

Happy Superbowl, bloggy friends. While you're eating good food, watching (hopefully) hilarious commercials, and some (I don't know an appropriate descriptor) football, raise a glass (or a chip) to the kid and his birth family. That's what we'll be doing.

Today's Lesson: Even us non-football people can find something celebratory about the Superbowl.