Can I Help You? Or, Lessons in Patience

Yesterday the following conversation happened.

Ainsley:  Can I help you?
Mama:  Yes.  You can be helpful by being quiet and not touching anything.
Ainsley:  That's not what I want!

Now, to be honest, we had just put down a fussy baby, who was sleeping just ten feet away from where I was furiously changing bedding due to a potty accident by our potty training two year old.  It was 8:30 pm, I was trying to get the kids into jammies, into our bed to read books, ignore the occasional whimpers of terror coming from the cranky, almost asleep baby, and had remembered that our two year old had wet our bed while napping that afternoon.  I just needed to change the bedding quickly, read three books, tuck them into bed, and I was free.

But she wanted to help.  Her help means it would have taken twice, maybe three times as long.  It would involve her crying and whining because she can't get the sheets on the deep pocketed mattress or crying because she couldn't get the pillow case on or off the pillow.  There's very little about changing the bedding on a king-sized bed that a five year old can actually do by herself.  And everything she struggles with involves tears and whines.

No.  Be quiet and don't touch anything.

And now I look back and think how horrible of me to say those things.  She just wants to help.

Perhaps if she was an only child, she could have helped.  If she were an only child, there wouldn't have been urine on the bed or a cry-it-out situation happening around the corner.  Then she could have helped and it wouldn't have been a big deal.

But as it is, we have three children.  Three, SMALL, children who are essentially incapable of doing ANYTHING on their own.  It wasn't such a big deal when there was only one.  It became a bit more stressful after two, neglecting myself completely to care for their every need, want, and inkling.

But then there were three.

We're nine months in to having three now.  It's slowly been eating at my patience.  If I could just get one decent night's sleep I might be able to recharge, but I haven't slept in nearly a year.  Couple that with the fact that they need me to do EVERYTHING for them, and I'm just getting tired.

I just need them to go to sleep.  I need them to actually sleep when I send them to sleep.  I need to be rested enough that I can work on my grading after they go to sleep.  As it is, I pass out in exhaustion the moment they actually go to sleep [or, stop crying, because "sleep" and "they finally stopped crying" is pretty much the same thing].

And so, I must vent.  I don't remember the last time I had a moment to myself.  If I beg my husband for some time, I use it to correct papers or prepare for class.

That's what I do with my "moments to myself."

Someone on Facebook shared some article about 2 year olds the other day.  I only read the title of the article and I was immediately ticked off.  The title said something like "What your two-year old needs is you."  I couldn't even open the article after that start.  I assume it's about tantruming two year olds (of which I am in the THICK OF) and how to stop their tantrums by giving them more of yourself.

I'VE NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE, PEOPLE.  I gave 50% of my entire being to Ainsley.  I gave the other 50% to Durham and I'm now taking years off my life in attempting to be patient with Wrenn.

And I love them so much, I will continue to do it, but I just wanted everyone to know that my soul is being sucked out of me at a rate that will involve my early death.

So, if you'd like to see me before I die, you've better hurry up.

Is noon too early to drink?

Where was I going with this?  Oh yeah, she wanted to help.

Anyway, now I have 40 essays to grade, 80 Prezi projects, 20 movie reviews, and a bad parenting choice to make up for.  What shall we do?  Make a gingerbread house.  And I'll let her (and him) do everything themselves.  And then I'll feel like I'm not such a terrible parent.

Is parenthood just about making up for the mistakes that happened yesterday?  Because that seems to be our theme here.  

Anyway, we're going to make gingerbread houses and drink beer tonight.  That' just the best we can muster at the moment.

Wrenn is 9 months old

Feeding:  We still only have two teeth, so meals are mostly jarred, stage 3 baby foods.  She usually eats 1/2 to 2/3rds of a jar followed by 4 oz of formula in a sippy cup.  We're down to only two bottles a day now, one at the afternoon nap and the other before bed at night.  She loves picking up Gerber puffs, peas, and other very soft foods to feed herself.  

Sleeping:  Has. Been. Wretched.  I'm entirely convinced that A)  she misses me while I work and therefore wants and deserves to be held all night long and B) is constantly in too much pain from teething and C) is manipulating the system to make sure I never sleep in my bed again.  Ugh.  Needless to say, we haven't moved the recliner out of her room yet.  It's always made up with a pillow and blanket, ready for two girls to sleep the night away together.

Diapers:  Still in size 3.  Wrenn has proven to be the most difficult to diaper.  She is such a fighter and a roller that keeping her still and safe on the changing table is becoming a challenge.  What a wiggler she is!

Clothes:  Anywhere between 9 months and 18 months.  Not much change in size from the last couple months.  Now that Wrenn is standing more, we've had to start wearing shoes.  Her feet are smaller than Ainsley’s were when Ainsley started wearing shoes, so Wrenn has gotten a few new ones in size 2.    

Disposition:  We've definitely moved out of the smiley, happy phase to an independent, strong-willed phase.  She's the most wiggly, strongest fighter, most determined of the bunch.  

Places:  Goodness, this girl has been to football games, grocery stores, libraries, grandparents' houses, pumpkin farms, trick or treating.  She's a go-getter.

Fun Facts:  She's begun crawling with her stomach off the ground now.  She can clap and wave bye-bye.  She says ma-ma, da-da, and loves to click her tongue at people.  She likes to play peekaboo and can walk along furniture.  She's not interested in her jumper anymore and fights with her brother over who gets to hold the iPod.  I've found her twice stuck head first in the toy basket attempting to grab the toy of her choosing.  She loves to make out with the baby in the mirror, open drawers and cabinets, root through the refrigerator and attempt to dive head first down the stairs every time the gate opens.  She's a curious little monkey!  

Weeks During the School Year

I love summers.  I get to be a stay-at-home Mama for a few months each year.  We go grocery shopping at 10:15 am on a Tuesday.  We'll wake up and decide to hit up the park in Reese and that will be the agenda for the whole day.  Or we'll just stay in our jammies and nap the day in shifts around the kids who never seem to nap simultaneously.  

And then the school year starts.  Our kids aren't even old enough to all be in school and after-school activities, but MAN, do things get busy.  

My week started at the grocery store on a Sunday morning.  We've been trying to figure out how to do church with our brood.  For a while, we had another family that would attend with us to help, but it made me anxious knowing another adult couldn't relax and hear the message.  Cause you know neither Tim nor I was hearing the message.  We would be fetching juice, wiping butts, carrying screaming children, wandering the halls, anything but listening.  

We've decided to start alternating church and take only Ainsley.  On this particular weekend, Tim was at church with Ainsley, while I got the privilege to grocery shop with the little two.  

Bring it. 

And they did.  While strolling the bread aisle, both kids began grunting and turning red.  They pooped together as we shopped for soup.  I was pushing a cartload of stinky filth past  innocent other shoppers.  There was no way I could leave a cart full of groceries to change their diapers.  How would I even change both of them in a public bathroom by myself?  Oh no.  They had to stew in it until we made it to the car.  

They don't even seem to mind. 

And that was the start of my week.  While we only have one child in school and extracurriculars, we do have 6 nephews/nieces who all participate in one thing or another.  Sunday was also a day we got to watch two of them participate in Powderpuff football.  

My gorgeous nephew.

 Sunday is also the day we do cleaning and laundry to prepare for the week.  I'll spare you my laundry picture as I'm sure you've seen lots of laundry.  I remember when Tim and I were first married and did perhaps three to four loads a week.

Those days are long gone.  We have three-four loads of just sheets now.  Laundry is the bane of my weekends.  Laundry and grading papers and entering scores and laundry and dishes and trying desparately to not be too busy to play with my kids.

Ugh.  I love summers.

Because Wrenn still isn't sleeping well through the night, there's no definitive separation of Sunday to Monday.  The alarm goes off at 5:45 am to signal I need to stop whatever I am doing and get in the shower.  But the time I'm out, usually all three kids are up and ready for us to begin serving their every need.

Try getting ready for work while holding a needy two year old.

Our amazing babsitters show up at 7 and Ainsley and I are out the door.  We shoot down the road, and Ainsley heads in to her school before the sun rises.

Waiting for the doors to open at daycare.

 At this point, "Mama" turns quickly into "Mrs. Roberts."  Grading papers, solving problems, trying to come up with creative ways to approach the material, trying to show the kids I care...all the while thinking about my three and what they're doing without me.

Working Mama.

Most days go by quickly.  Evenings are about dinners, watching nieces or nephews play ball or dance.

And baths.  I never realized how much of my adult life would be spent sitting next to a bathtub.  Right now we're in a spot where it really doesn't work to have any of them bathe together, so baths end up taking over an hour.

Good thing they're cute. 

 Book reading, Turtleman, Tigers, lesson planning, and bed.  Time to do it all over again.

You never know which one will be needy in the morning.  It's a good morning when it's just one that wants to be held and snuggled before Mama leaves.

Wrenn pretty much always wants to be held.

 Back in the car and back to school.  So far this year, I haven't been able to visit her classroom as a helper, but we do peek in the dark classroom when we arrive at the school every day.  

Ainsley poses next to the bulletin board outside her classroom door.

 And once again, it's time to turn on the entertainer.  Show the highschoolers that history is cool, ancient Romans are awesome, and then writing essays is SUPER FUN.  Show them that I want them all to love it and that they can talk to me when they have a problem.

All the while, thinking about whether or not my baby is crying or Ainsley is in time out, or Durham is putting up a fight about nap.

Working Mama.

Back home for suppers together as a family.  More baths and book reading and essay reading and laundry and dishes.

Just when I think I can relax for the night, Wrenn will have inexplicable anger and sadness.  Is she sick?  Is she over-tired?  It's these 2am moments when you start packing to take your child to the ER and check yourself into a psychiatric clinic when they finally fall asleep and relief washes over you.

See the tears from hours of crying?  

Time to sleep because Mama's gotta be on her game in a few hours, convincing kids that history is my life and that there's no other subject I'd rather be teaching or kids I'd rather be teaching or place I'd rather be.  

If only I could get ready without having the jockey for room in my own bathroom.

School and work and back home.  Time to negotiate with Tim over who takes the little one while the other takes Ainsley to her extracurriculars.  

Tim won Wednesday ballet and I won Thursday swimming.  

Eat and go, girl!  We can't be late!

She looks so scared.

 By the time we get to Friday, everyone is exhausted.  Did we remember orange day at school?  Did we remember the faculty meeting?  Did I respond back to all the parent emails?  Did Durham get enough practice using utensils?  Did I snuggle Wrenn enough?

So tired.

But Friday is the start to the weekend.  Stuff to do, kiddies.  Let's go.

To Reese again for Homecoming.  Ainsley and multiple cousins were in the parade.

Durham was TERRIFIED of the sounds coming from the firetrucks.  

Ainsley loved riding with the pommers.

Wrenn just sat back and watched.  

Durham felt better later while playing with his cousin. 

Family time.  It doesn't matter how tired you are, just do it.  We came home and guess what?

Baths and book reading and toothbrushing and spoon feeding and bottles and dishes and laundry.

By the time it was 7am on Saturday, Ainsley and I were at Meijer.  Grocery shopping.  Ready to start it all over again.

Meijer, 7:14 am, Saturday.

Pumpkin Farm 2013 (Or, Story of a Running Boy)

It's a tradition for our family (and I'm sure for many area families) to head to the pumpkin farm in the fall.  We happened to have a Saturday with very little planned, so we packed the kiddies up and headed out.  It was my intention to write about our experience at the farm, but as it always turns out, it became all about survival with a two year old.  

It's really starting to sink in that our lives are insane.  All of our children are two years apart.  We've never tried to manage a two year old WITHOUT simultaneously dealing with a baby.  We've never tried to potty train a child WITHOUT simultaneously dealing with a baby.  It's really like we're not ok with parenting without a challenge.  These two teacher-parents are going for the extra credit apparently.  

I've seen other families strolling through the pumpkin farm.  It's almost like they're on vacation.  Like they've come to the pumpkin farm to RELAX.  

There's no relaxing in our lives.  I've slowly gotten used to that.  Case in point:  THE BOY WHO RUNS.

We arrived at the farm 30 minutes after it opened for the day.  We do this on purpose.  A)  We don't want to deal with crowds as our children wait for no man.  B)  We don't want to stop other people from having children just by seeing ours.  

The moment we got there, this happened...

I'm free!  I'm free!

 We usually keep him confined to the stroller, but as he gets older, stronger, louder, and more independent, that is becoming increasingly difficult.  We decided to give freedom a chance.

He ran a good 10 laps around the pumpkins just as a warm-up.  

 I thought the running would subside as he tired.  We've spent a lot of time watching Gator Boys on animal planet.  I see a lot of similarities between aligators and my son.  When the Gator Boys try to capture an alligator, they purposely try to tire him out to make them more docile.  I was determined to do the same.

Run it out, gator.  You'll be docile in 5 minutes flat.
I hope. 

 We're only walked 20 feet from the van, but Durham was on mile 2.  Perhaps I could encourage him to feed the animals?  We used the "enthusiastic parent" voice to coax him away from his marathon and toward the next site.

He followed.  And then proceeded to try to pick up the goats.  

 Because mine is the son who picked up the terrarium filled with hamsters at Ainsley's preschool class and proceeded to carry it around the room like superman.  Who doesn't see a goat and want to pick it up?

There wasn't any food in the dispenser, so we fed the got a piece of grass and moved on.

And yes, there were four other members of the family at the pumpkin farm that day.  At this juncture in our lives, the other members of the family just sit back and watch the fifth.  

"Have you seen my brother?  Me neither.  He ran off."

 Where was Durham?  How does that kid slip away so fast?

RUN, RUN, RUN!!

Ainsley was VERY interested in getting her picture taken.  It's her thang. 

 And then we found the perfect thing for our boy.  A soybean maze.  He ran.

And ran.

AND RAN.

His head bobbed up and down as he ran his little heart out.  

We tried to lure the boy into seeing more of the sites.  He wasn't interested.  And by "wasn't interested", I mean he screamed and kicked and screamed and scratched and kicked and slapped.

Because two year olds are so pleasant.

Ainsley wanted her picture taken again.  It meant not running, so I obliged.  

 I don't know why I do this to myself, but I wanted a picture of the three of them together.  Ideally it would be a picture of the three of them in cutesie matching fall-inspired outfits.  They'd all be wearing boots, the girls would have fall-colored dresses, the kids would be in a patch of pumpkins and all looking in the same direction.

This is reality.

 We might even own the appropriate clothing for the cutest fall pumpkin patch shot ever, but this is Saturday and I work during the week.  That means the clothes are dirty, kids are dirty, and Mama is tired.

There's always one thing that will slow down a running two year old.

Donuts.

 We quickly picked out a few pumpkins and while Daddy was checking out, I managed to get a shot of all three together.  It's not Pinterest-worthy, but it sure melts this Mama's heart.

Wrenn is 7 Months Old!

Feeding:  Our little lady can use a sippy cup like a champ!  We started with sippy cups right at 6 months, and it only took her a few days to understand the basic concept.  She's quite drippy with her sippy cup but gets the job done.  We don't feed her at night anymore, so all of her nourishment comes during the day.  She'll have 1/2 to 2/3rds of a jar of food at each meal followed by 4 oz of formula or juice.  She also has a small bottle before each of her naps and at night before she goes to bed.  

Sleeping:  Ugh.  With the two teeth and a cold this month, sleeping hasn't been great.  She often goes to bed easily at first, but wakes up sometime between midnight and 3am.  We've tried letting her cry it out, but she has stamina like her sister.  At one hour of crying, when Mama and Daddy are going insane because they have to work in the morning, Mama usually goes in to rock her back to sleep.  Wrenn doesn't like to be put down at that point, because she's in such a tizzy from crying for so long, that she and Mama end up sleeping on the chair together.  Ugh.  You'd think after three kids I'd have this figured out.  I do not. She's still taking a morning and afternoon nap, but rarely naps in the evenings now.

Diapers:  Size 3.  Wrenn has slowly been distinguishing herself from her siblings.  One way in which she takes the crown is in wiggliness during diaper changes and clothes changes.  This child is a fighter!  She enacts the alligator death roll whenever she can in order to escape.  Spin, spin, spin!

Clothes:  Anywhere between 9 months and 18 months.  Not much change in size from last month.  

Disposition:  She's not as much of a smiley goofer anymore.  Perhaps it was the teeth and the cold, but she's been a little needy and fussy lately.  She certainly likes her mama and has grown scared of strangers picking her up.    

Places:  We've been to a few football and volleyball games to see cousins this month.

Fun Facts:  She can not only sit up but also crawls all over the house.  At the beginning of the month she was just moving a few inches, but look out for her now!  She's exploring the house, including all the small nooks and crannies that only babies can get themselves into.  

Last Week of Summer

The last few week of the summer went by quickly.  Tim and I decided to take the kids to the little zoo near our town.  The kids loved feeding the animals. Ainsley especially loved getting to watch the porcupine get fed.  She was quite worried about the zoo worker who was cleaning the wolf cage with the wolf stalking around in the background.  She had to ask the worker if she was going to be ok!

Durham's favorite part of the zoo?  The lion exhibit.  There were no lions yet, as they were just building it.  What was there?  A little bulldozer.

We also decided to take the kids to the beach in Caseville.  We invited our nieces, loaded up the new-to-us minivan and headed off to enjoy a day in the sun.  

Cousin J helped by watching and playing with the kids.  

Durham was on the go the whole time.  

We didn't bring Durham's puddle jumper because he's never been interested in the water.  Turns out he was highly interested in the water this time.  He didn't even want to play in the sand.  He just wanted to walk around in the water.  Walk, walk, walk.  Walk to the end of the beach.  Walk to the other end of the beach.  Walk out to deep water.  And, NO, he doesn't want to hold your hand.

It was Wrenn's first time in Caseville.  She was pretty chill about it. 

Cousin K helping out with Wrenn.