February 26, 2010

He’s a Rebel

I think that Dawson is testing me.  He wants to exert control over his life, at the ripe age of 5, and perhaps he’s just dipping his toes into the waters of rebelliousness, to see what he can get away with.

Every day is difficult.  He does not want to listen to anything I have to say.  Asking him to pick up his toys when he’s finished playing with them causes him to emit a scream that sounds like someone is dying.  I’m certain the whole block can hear this wrenching noise.  One day, very soon, cops will be called to the scene of whatever murder the neighborhood thinks is taking place.

This morning he refused to put on his shoes.  I told him repeatedly that time’s a waistin’ and that the bus would be pulling into the driveway at any moment.  My son told me, “THE BUS IS NOT HERE YET! I DON’T NEED TO PUT MY SHOES ON!”

When I saw the bus coming down the street and no shoes on the boy’s feet I yelled, “THE BUS IS HERE! WHERE ARE YOUR SHOES?”

And my child started to freak out, running around, looking for his shoes.  I had to help him put them on because at that moment he was so frantic he didn’t know where his feet were.

I told him to run quickly to the bus and when I saw him walking solemnly, slowly, I felt a pang of frustration in my chest.  The child will give me a heart attack one day.  I just know it.

Things have been less than great here for a few months.  Right after Owen was born, Dawson seemed to adjust well to having a baby brother.  He loves Owen so much and he can’t stop hugging and kissing him.  But I notice that when I’m nursing the baby or changing his diaper, Dawson begins to act up.  I’m well aware this is a play for my attention and I try to respond lovingly, but I can only handle so much insanity before I crack.

I want to give my boys equal attention, but I have an infant who depends solely on me, and a 5-year-old who just wants me to acknowledge what he’s saying and doing, and I don’t know how to balance it all.

It doesn’t help matters that Doug is working many hours to keep our financial boat afloat.  With me not working money has become very tight.  We are now uber frugal and I carry most of the stress of balancing the budget and making sure our needs our met.  It’s difficult to be alone with two cranky kids for many long hours with no break.

(On the job front:  I’ve sent a few resumes out and made several follow-up calls only to find out these companies are still involved in the hiring process.  I’m praying for an interview.  I’m lucky to have had this time home with Owen, but I don’t believe I was meant to be a SAHM forever.  It’s time to go back to work, not only for financial sake but for my sanity’s sake as well. I love my children so much and I’m happy to be with them for now.  And perhaps winter is making us all crazy.)

I think Dawson needs more time to play with friends, too.  He’s cooped up with me and Owen and has so much energy (he’s resorted to burning it by chasing the dog, which drives me nuts).  Thankfully, soccer clinic starts tomorrow.  He’ll see his old pals and have some fun.  Let’s just hope I don’t have to beg him to put on his shoes!

February 22, 2010

Laughter and Tears

Saturday, Owen’s cold was so awful that he had a fever of 103.1 degrees.  I panicked, of course, and called my mother for advice.

Since my younger sister and brother still live at home with my parents, they often answer the telephone.  One of them looked at the Caller ID, saw my phone number and gave the phone to Dawson who was staying with my parents for the weekend.

The phone rang once and I heard my sister say, “Dawson, it’s for you.”  She passed the cordless to him.

“Hello?”  Dawson said.

“Hi Dawson, it’s Mom.  Can I talk to Grandma, please?” I asked.

My little boy, funny child that he is, yelled at his aunt, “It’s not for me! It’s for Grandma, you twit!”

I laughed and laughed until my mother got on the phone, and she was laughing, too.  The two of us were in tears over the situation.

“Where did he learn the word ‘twit’?” I asked.

“Probably from Auntie Rachel!” Mom howled.

My mother then told me that she was talking to my brother earlier in the day, and Frankie was giving her a hard time about his curfew.  She told him if he didn’t like the rules he was more than welcome to move out and pay rent.

“I told Frankie he had no room to talk when he’s living here rent-free, and Dawson said, ‘Grandma, he has a room!’” she said, laughing.

After the laughter subsided, I asked my mom what to do about the fever and she suggested infant Tylenol and a cold washcloth on his forehead to keep him from overheating.  I had already given him a dose of the infant medicine but had not considered the washcloth.  She told me to try that and to call the weekend care phone number at the clinic.

The nurse suggested the same things my mother had, and it’s nice to know that I can still rely on my mom, even when I’m in panic mode.  It’s been a long time since Dawson has had a fever, so I’m not surprised I had forgotten all the remedies.

Thankfully, Owen’s fever dropped down to 100.5 two hours later and he was feeling much better.  Good thing Dawson had his comedy down, I needed the laughter through the tears!

October 11, 2009

Filling the Void

While I wait patiently (or not) for Little Monster Baby (how’s that for an oxymoron) to arrive, I thought I’d kill some blog time with photos.  It’s hard to write a real blog post because I’m starting to sound redundant.  I write about the same things, because I’ve been doing the same things for days.

Okay, and I’m tired. I spent today cleaning (more cleaning, you ask? yes, because I’ve gone completely anal about organization in this house. that and I have nothing else to do while I wait for the baby to make his way into the world) my dining room, my craft area, and other things. Then Doug and I went to lunch at Tempura House.  They have the best buffet.  I love the sweet & sour chicken, General Tso’s chicken, and of course crab rangoon. Yum.

Dawson spent the night at my parents’ house so we could go to that wedding last night, and Doug and I really enjoyed our day together, even if we were just getting all those last minute things completed.  I vacuumed all the carpets.  Doug blew out the sprinklers for the winter.  I folded laundry. He blanched and froze more vegetables from our garden.

The only thing we didn’t finish was weather-proofing our windows with that shrink wrap, plastic stuff.  But there’s always tomorrow.  As long as a certain baby stays in my uterus.  Which is probably going to happen.  He’s showing no interest in being born just yet.  I’m still in physical pain, but cleaning distracts me.

Okay, enough of the random babbling.  I give you my favorite photos of the last few weeks (months?):

My neighbor’s daughter, Katie, with her brothers at her wedding reception last night.  These kids (who aren’t really kids anymore) are triplets.  I’ve known their family since I was a kid.  I can’t believe how grown up they are now.

The beautiful bride and handsome groom pose for a photo.  They are just adorable, aren’t they?

Last Monday, Dawson and I went on a Mom & Son date.  We had dinner at Rocky Roccoco’s and then went to see the Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen movie that was re-playing at our local theater.  We had a fantastic time.

We had some funky things happen to a few of the tomatoes we grew this year.  This one seems to have grown a nose.  Or… Nevermind. I’m not even going to say it.  Still the funniest produce ever.

I tried to get a picture of all the kids at Dawson’s birthday party two weeks ago, and this one is almost perfect.  Only one child is looking away, and one is missing from the photo because he was having a meltdown.  Still a fantastic party.  Everyone had a fantastic time.

Dawson had such fun bowling.  Here he is, just after granny-bowling the ball down the lane.

Now that I’ve uploaded all the photos (from both cameras) from the last few weeks, I’ve charged all the batteries and put everything into my hospital bag.  I’m ready for Baby O to arrive.  Counting down days!

August 14, 2009

Just One of Those Weeks

This has been one of the craziest weeks of the year.  Running around to doctor and dentist appointments (and dealing with incompetent receptionists).  Filling out 4K paperwork.  Grocery shopping.  Bill paying.  Cleaning the house.  Laundry. (Oh, the laundry!)  The death of my neighbor.

This morning, my dear friend Lori had a c-section.  She went to the hospital at 5 a.m., her surgery was scheduled for 7 a.m. and now I am waiting patiently for the news.  She decided not to know the gender, as this is her third child and she and her husband did find out with her son and daughter.  I can’t wait to find out if Z & H have a new brother or sister.

Tomorrow we have a wedding to attend.  My cousin is getting married.  Huge Polish wedding.  Polka dancing.  Chicken soup with potatoes.  Yum.

Sunday evening is my neighbor’s wake, and Monday morning is the funeral.

I feel like I’m witnessing the full circle of life; a birth, a wedding and a death.  All in one week.

My day planner is packed with little notes and to-dos and appointments.  With Dawson’s first day of 4K fast approaching, we’re trying to squeeze in as much quality time together as we can.

Doug and I have decided to take a trip to the Dells of the Eau Claire River next week.  It’s been several years since I’ve been there.  I think I was 12 the last time I went.  With my parents of course.

It’s a beautiful park in Marathon County, about 45 minutes Northeast.  I’d like to take some family pictures there, so I’ll be dragging the Canon and the tripod.  Doug isn’t thrilled, he hates pictures, but I think it would be nice to have one last photo of our family of three.

Our first MOPS meeting is in three weeks.  I’m on the steering team, co-chair of the Sunshine Committee.   We have one last team meeting on the 25th to get ready for our club meeting.  I can’t believe our summer break is almost over.  I’m glad to get back into the swing of things, however.  I miss my friends.  We’ve all been so busy this summer.

Monday evening is Moms’ Night Out.  I’m very excited to get out of the house, if only for one evening.  I feel like I’ve been trapped in wife-and-mom mode.  I need time out to talk about anything other than school and laundry and which Transformers cartoon we should watch next.

I’m now 30 weeks pregnant, (and my baby weighs as much as a cabbage…who knew?).  Ten weeks to go.  It still feels like an eternity, but I also feel like the birth of this baby is sneaking up on me.  I know that makes little sense, but if you were in my head right now, you would understand completely.

The other day Doug and I were talking about some invitations we’ve received for events happening in October and November.  It suddenly dawned on me that we may have to decline several due to the fact that I’ll be nursing and it’s very hard for me to leave my babies.  (I didn’t leave Dawson with a babysitter, other than our daycare person, until he was almost six months old, and that’s only because Doug insisted on taking me to dinner for my birthday.)

I had a bit of a panic attack, because I realized I’m starting over again.  Dawson is almost five years old.  He was potty trained at age 3, I haven’t had to change a diaper in two years (still wiping a butt, though).  My son is capable of feeding himself, dressing himself, bathing himself (still have to wash his hair, however) and he knows how to pick up his toys when he’s done playing with them.  Okay, I do have to ask him a few times, but he does it.

In ten short weeks I will be at the beck and call of a tiny, helpless baby, one who depends on me for nourishment, clothing and comfort.  I’ve wanted another child for so long, and I’m so grateful that my wish has finally come true.  I just think I’m finally facing the reality that life will be changing once again.  I’m slowing wrapping my head around that fact.

Yesterday I dragged a huge Rubbermaid tote of baby clothes out of the closet and started sorting through them.  I made piles by size and did several loads of laundry.  As I was folding the onesies, sleepers and adorable outfits that Dawson once wore, memories of his baby days came flooding back.  I can’t believe how quickly five years has passed.  What happened to that little one, the Doodlebug, who fit in the crook of my arm and looked up at me so adoringly?  Now I’m lucky to get a hug without asking for one. My “baby” is growing up too fast.  I don’t think I like it.

I want to write about our traumatic immunization experience from Wednesday, and I have a few other happenings I think are blog worthy.  It’s just a matter of getting organized around here.  So much to do, so little time.

Thank goodness it’s Friday.  Here’s hoping the weekend isn’t chaotic.  I’m praying next week is less insane.