Loud and Lived In

My house is a mess.

Once, from my spot in an office chair at a desk that I sat at for 5 years, I thought that stay at home moms must have the cleanest homes of all. I mean, they are home all day, right? Why wouldn't their houses be clean? The scary thing: I was thinking this even having been a Women's Studies minor. How un-feminist of me.

This is what I know after having been a stay at home mom for almost as long as I worked in that office: Our houses are not super clean. There are toys, boots and dress up clothes strewn everywhere.

This is not because we don't pick up a few times a day. We do.

This is not because we're lazy. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to be lazy when you can't even use the bathroom alone.

This is not because we don't care what our houses look like. We do. Just a lot less than we used to. As my husband knows, I like things neat and orderly, and usually by the end of the day, 85% of the house is put back that way. But in the mean time?

We're living here, every day, most of the day. We're playing here, inside and outside. We're learning. We're laughing. We're creating.

You know what I'm not doing? Using every spare minute to clean this house just so it can be cluttered the next minute. A little birdie once told me that cleaning with kids in the house is like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos. That little birdie is correct.

Another little birdie told me that I have years ahead of me when my house will be so clean... because no little ones will be living in it. No one will be pretending the dining room table is a secret fort or overturning the couch cushions in a frantic search for lost treasure. No one will be rummaging through the dress-up bin looking for a glass slipper or building elaborate walls and roadways in every room.

When I get discouraged about my messy house, I try to keep the above in mind. Someday my house will be clean, and it will be quiet. But right now it is loud and lived in, the way homes are meant to be.

Pendulum

My kiddos.

My sweet, crazy, awesome, tiring kiddos. At 4.5 and 3, they're the best of buds one minute and, as it appears at times, actively trying to kill each other the next minute. We have such fun times together, the two of them and I. We play, we laugh, we learn, and yes, completely exhaust one another at times.

Every day, I have a pendulum in my heart that swings between the following:

1. I love these precious days of being home with them before they start school and get older on me. I love our after lunch reading time, with the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and their giggles and my laughter filling the living room.

2. I can't wait for the day they're both in school so I can have just a little time, just a little space to get things done. A small example? Easter is a little over a week away. I just want the flexibility to go to the store and get Easter items, By Myself. No having to sneak things into the grocery cart, which really doesn't work now that my youngest, a keen observer, has turned three. I'd just like a little uninterrupted time to work, to write, to hear myself think.

Lately this pendulum has swung more often to #2, and with winter dying a slow death and no real warmth yet in sight, I'm not surprised. We have Cabin Fever like crazy in this house. I honestly feel that until we are able to spend a lot of time outside, it's going to be this way for a while. The kids are just fed up with each other, I find myself raising my voice much more than I'd like, and we just need Winter. To. Be. Done.

I think it's pretty normal and healthy to swing between both #1 and #2. I know that even though I'm eying #2 with great favoritism, I'll be a sobbing mess come September. Oh, the irony! We'll keep on truckin' and I'll try to enjoy our after lunch reading sessions while they last.

That is, until Buddy and Rosie fight over what book to read next, and who can hold it, and who can sit on my lap. There goes that pendulum again!

Almost There

I was going to write a post lamenting about how long the winter has been, and if I see vomit one more time around this house, you'll see me buy a one way ticket to California.

Instead, I'll talk about the good.

Since we turned the clocks ahead an hour last week, there is glorious sunlight almost all the way up until 7pm. It's amazing what an effect it's had on our family. The kids are no longer grumbling about nothing to do between the time they get up from quiet time until we have supper. For some reason, with it being light out later, they seemed to find it easy to find things to play with while I'm food prepping (I'm totally jinxing myself right now). Speaking of food prep, I've almost been forgetting to prepare supper in a timely fashion because I'm not used to doing so when it's still light out!

The snow is melting. Little by little. Just when it seemed like it was going to be freezing cold and snowing forever, the pattern broke, long enough to give us hope that there is, indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel. That light involves all snow melting, and green taking over the grey. It means the sun feeling warmer on our faces day by day, and it means the wonderful realization that our winter coats are no longer suitable for the milder weather.

We're almost there. I can't wait to walk in the quarry again with the dogs, and walk in general. Outside. Explore the woods, go to parks, just be uninhibited by the weather in general.

How do I know we'll make it 'til then? We're already 2.5 months into 2015. If that's not proof of how quickly time is passing, I don't know what is. In the meantime, let's try to enjoy any goodness that March tries to throw our way. There is something good in every month. Maybe for March, it's the promise of a warmer tomorrow.

Three Babies

There's so very much I want to write about, that I haven't had time made time for. Where do I start? I guess I'll start with what's most on my mind.

I have to talk about these three babies.

I've known for quite some time that my Gram Carpenter lost one baby, in 1961. "She came out blue when she was born" was what my very young ears heard. I knew she was a little girl and her name was Diane. She would have been the third girl: my gram had already had two- my mom, Donna and my aunt, Denise. I remember feeling sad for my grandma when she told me the story, stoically, but not thinking too much of it.

Not like I do now, as a mother myself. Now that I know what's it like to carry a baby full term, to get in those final weeks, days and hours and know you're so close to meeting the little someone who's been kicking around in your stomach the past few months. And then to have that moment come, and see not joy but pain and sadness... I literally can't imagine how horrific that must have been. And how, if my understanding of the 1960s is at all correct, the whole ordeal was probably swept under the rug and my grandparents were to go home to their two and three year olds who may or may not have understood that a baby was supposed to come home, too, and they were all supposed to carry on like nothing life changing had just happened to them. My poor gram. I can only imagine the pain and loss she felt.

I've also known for many years that my Gram Eldred lost two babies- Vivian and Donald. I really didn't know much beyond that except that their gravestones somberly read "Vivian 1948-1949" and "Donald 1950-1951". Such loss is such a short period of time! If wasn't until this past week that I was able to put some of the pieces of the puzzle together.

I was looking for something in the town's Death Records book, when I flipped open to a page of deaths from the 1940s. I scanned the page and found Vivian's record. Cause of death: accidental asphyxiation (today's SIDS). This coincided with the awful story my mom related to me of gram walking her baby in the stroller up Route 9 to her mother's house, and finding her 2 month old baby girl dead when she went to take her out.

My poor, sweet grandmother. What a living nightmare.

I flipped just a page or two to 1951. Donald's cause of death- pneumonia- wasn't the thing that shocked me the most. What shocked me was that he was 15 months old when he passed. He was not a newborn. Donald was a part of the family for longer than a year. Did I ever hear his or Vivian's names mentioned, ever? No. This again confirmed my suspicion that when these tragedies happened, the family was supposed to keep on going and not look back.

My heart aches for these three babies and their beautiful moms who played such a huge role in my life. My heart aches because I'm sad that my grandmothers lived during a time that encouraged suppression of feelings, not finding support and help through groups and counseling. My heart aches because the pain they had to endure is almost impossible to imagine, yet they were both some of the strongest women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I think of those babies- Diane, Vivian, Donald- and think about all the other tiny souls taken far too soon. Every day babies are lost- some while still in the womb, others at birth, and still more after birth. We, as a society, are just starting to talk about it, acknowledge it. We still have a long ways to go. Each life impacts this world in one way or another, and the generations that follow.

Life Expanding

I don't know how many times I've been told, "Don't engage."

As in, Don't Engage with that customer who wants to talk about the weather and the new building going up across the street. Don't Engage with the person cashing you out at the counter, what are you, a glutton for punishment? Don't you know, the more you open up, the more weirdos you let in?

This was pretty much the gist of what I was told- that if I stayed in my little corner, and only interacted with people that showed every sign of "normality" and no sign of "quirkiness", I would be better off for it.

Nope.

I can't even express how much richer my life has become by talking and interacting with people that cross my path of all ages, sizes, shapes and colors- a lot of them quirky, some of them not. It almost makes me feel like I was hiding under a rock beforehand.

The world is a beautiful place and there are multitudes of amazing people in it.

I've gotten to know the staff at our local grocery store pretty well after 4.5 years of shopping there every week on the same day at the same time. They know my name, they know my kids' names, and I know theirs. We do the small talk bit but we also have come to know more about each others' lives over the years.

Imagine my surprise when on a night out on the town with friends, I heard my name called, and there, at a table, sat some of my favorite "deli ladies"! I was so thrilled to see them! And to not have to talk to them over a counter of cheese and meat! We chatted and even danced together once the music was playing. Between them and the other friends we were with, I had the best night out that I had in a long time.

It made me so glad that I didn't listen to the advice of the past, that would have kept me tight lipped at the deli counter as I only gave my order for 1/2 lb of American cheese and then moved on with my day. It would've kept me from getting to know them and some other people who have really made a difference in my life and have made me look at things in a new way.

Be brave. Engage. Expand.

Friday Five: Favorite Songs

Anyone who knows me also knows that I listen to a wide variety of music- from Patsy Cline to Katy Perry, I'll give just about anything a listen. Here are my some of my top songs:

1. Favorite Classic Rock Song- "Sweet Emotion" by Aerosmith. This never fails to do the trick. It revs me up for a night out and makes me feel like I can do anything. I literally have never skipped this song on my iPod.


2. Favorite Song by an Individual Beatle- "What is Life" by George Harrison. This love song has such strong emotions behind it and puts me in a pondering, wistful mood. In a good way.


3. Favorite Country Song- "The House that Built Me" by Miranda Lambert. Miranda is my favorite country singer, and seeing how I live in the house that built me, I can really relate to this. It's beautiful.


4. Favorite Pop Song- "Suit & Tie" by Justin Timberlake and Jay Z. Yet another song that I. cannot. skip. Justin never sounded smoother!


5. Second Favorite Classic Rock Song- "Whole Lotta Love" by Led Zeppelin. Everyone goes through moods as to what genres they're into at the moment. I'm really into classic rock right now, so I had to list another favorite from that genre. This song rocks my socks. Oh, and this recent Dior Homme commercial may have renewed my interest (you're welcome, ladies.)


What? No favorite in the oldies category? I heart the oldies like no one's business, but I just absolutely could not pick a favorite. Ok, then again... The Beatles "I Saw Her Standing There" is pretty sweet. Also, their version of "Twist and Shout". And speaking of shouting, the Isley Brother's "Shout" never fails to get me up and dancing. See why I couldn't pick just one?


What are your favorite songs that make your world go 'round?

Three

Dear Buddy,

You have taken on age three like you've just been waiting for it to come along.

Never walking, but always running. Not leading the charge, but always cautiously following your older sister and your friends. Not outgoing, but always charming with your huge brown eyes and sweet smile.

I love everything there is to love about you, my son.

Over the past few months, you've developed quite the imagination and I see you immersed in pretend scenes with your characters in the same way that your sister does. All the time, I come across elaborate play scenes that you have created, and I marvel at what you've created this time.

You've become the master house and train track builder, and are always happy to make your sister either of those. Nothing seems to give you more joy than setting up the most elaborate track you can think of and building the longest trains to run along them.

You're still my cuddler. A year has made you that much taller, but you curl up on my lap like nothing's changed. You still stuck your thumb to fall asleep, and occasionally you'll reach your hand out to stroke my cheek when you do that.

I love that. I love you, my big three year old!

Over the past year of Rosie being in preschool, we've developed a stronger bond between us as we treasure alone time that we never got beforehand. We enjoy trying new pastries together and going places, just you and me. You like to have me to yourself; I like it, too.

Your vocabulary has exploded, and even though it might take a few times of asking you to repeat yourself, I usually can understand what you want and need. I am so proud of you and how far you've come! Just yesterday, I heard you tell your sister: "Please listen to my words." We're listening, Buddy. We love hearing your sweet voice asking where Scout or Maggie is. Have I mentioned your huge love for animals, especially dogs? It would not surprise me if you one day went into a job that involved working with them!

Welcome to Three, sweet boy. You make this world a brighter place.

Love you always,
Mama