A Mom's Life

Since college, I have suffered from migraines. And, boy, I have suffered. I remember the first time I got one. I was completely unable to function. I had a paper due the next day. This is back when I used to HAND WRITE my papers and then type them up in the computer lab. Lucky for me, my friend typed up the paper for me while I lay in the dark, confused and disoriented. I had no idea what hit me. Everyone has a bad headache once in awhile. A migraine is not your run-of-the-mill headache. It's a neurological nightmare. At first, I had them every six months or so, and while an inconvenience, I could usually shut myself away in a dark room for long enough to let it wear off. I tried prescribed migraine medication and it only made me more ill. As time has gone on, the symptoms have strengthened and the their duration has increased. Here's how it usually goes: it starts with light, natural or florescent. Sometimes it can be the contrast between being in a dark room and looking ...

Last Thursday evening Andy and I piled into a room with lots of other moms and dads. We sat in tiny plastic chairs and nervously looked around at the other folks who uncomfortably positioned and repositioned their bums. Some faces were those of friends, people we have come to know from swim lessons, Saturday morning outings to the Farmer's Market and play dates at the playground. Others were strangers, people who live in our small town whom we've never crossed paths with before. We were all in the room for a common purpose and over the next 12 years, each and every face in the room will be familiar to us, as will the faces of their children. Welcome to kindergarten orientation. As we listened to the kindergarten staff introduce themselves, I diligently took notes. Purchase: sturdy backpack, lunch bag, sneakers with laces, shirts that don't show off the belly. Bring to registration: birth certificate, proof of residency, kid. I shoulder bumped Andy (it wasn't hard to do ...

In many ways, it was a glorious weekend. Andy may disagree, but I really am easy to please. It's not hard to please when your expectations are incredibly low. I have been deprived of many things over the last year and a half; nothing too big or horrible. Just the simple things that make life sweet. Like alcohol, caffeine, time to myself and most importantly, sleep. Andy says that I think of myself as a martyr but he is wrong. As a parent, I do not feel selfless. I feel incredibly selfish. I decided to have children and it is my responsibility to take care of them. The job is 24/7 and some days I get really sick of being responsible and I want to run away. I'm mad at myself for arguing with Andy each day about our schedules and for constantly negotiating for time. Some days I'm only going through the motions of parenting while my mind is longing to be somewhere else, whether it's on the beach or out on a long run. I start to feel resentful when a friend calls and wants...

In honor of Ground Hog's Day and Bill Murray and inspired by Sarah's very perfect text message. Do you ever wish that you could have a do-over? There are just so very many occasions that I've said or done something and pretty much instantly wished that I could turn back time and try that one again. I'd like to have a winter do-over. After my last post I received several emails, texts and calls of concern and support. Thanks for caring and for the Valium, alcohol and vacation suggestions, all equally tantalizing and much more feasible than a good night's rest. This past Wednesday I was on the phone with my mom, setting a date for her to watch the girls so Andy and I can go on a much needed, two-night mini-vacation. We were chatting about the places I've been researching for the last few weeks-affordable and relaxing vacation spots within a four-hour drive. I told her I'd ignored Andy's urging to return to Lake Placid and John Brown's house, where we...

I never knew that Hell on Earth is a cold, icy, arctic tundra. January in upstate is a barren, lonely place. It makes me feel insane. Living here is driving me crazy. Living here is testing every patient fiber in my body. My days consist of dragging myself out of bed in the dark, driving to and from work in the snow and sleet, sweating in my boots and never feeling the teeniest bit of sunshine on my shoulders. I have determined that, like the big, fat, white polar bear I feel and look like, I should just go plop myself on an ice chunk and set sail. Yes, I'm grumpy. Living here makes the grind dig a hole into my soul. I imagine I've felt this way ever since I moved here but having kids, and I'd think being a caregiver to anyone, makes the winter workload a million times harder. For example, I don't want to wash my own laundry and I certainly don't want to wash the 8 other loads of clothes that belong to the rest of my family. Did I mention I'd rather run naked ...

Last January, for the first time, I considered and shared my New Year's resolutions. In preparation for today's post, I looked back at what I'd written a year ago, to see if I had any success keeping my promises and intentions. To recap, I said that I would: have a fit pregnancy (check! I gained only the recommended amount and had a fantastic labor and delivery), read more (semi-check because I still watch way more TV than I should), stay in touch (check! as I predicted, I obsessively check facebook and text message), be a better mom and wife (semi-check, again, as predicted, I swore and stomped my feet a lot BUT I think that I'm doing pretty good as a mom of two and Andy keeps me around for some reason), learn a foreign language and play an instrument(semi-check, I do practice my Spanish several times a year at a Spanish supper club but the instrument has yet to be conquered.) Looking back, I'm not ashamed that I shared these goals with the cyber world and I'm ...

Last night we took the kids with us to a holiday party. While I was trying to hold and eat my food while hoisting baby on my hip, a fellow party-goer commented on Charlotte's attachment to her mommy. I replied that she indeed is my appendage and I hardly have time to do anything at home because I'm limited to one-armed activities. My insightful husband, who until recently spent his nights on the couch while I co-slept, stated that it may actually be mommy who is attached to baby. In response I gave Charlotte a little squeeze and Andy a little smile. What can I say? I agree with him. For awhile I thought my incredibly sentimental attachment to Charlotte had to do with the fact that she may be the last child I give birth to. She may be the last baby I hold in my arms and call my own. I don't think I enjoyed Caroline's infancy enough because I was tired and terrified. I have enjoyed Charlotte's baby months so much more because I am not as focused on the mechanics of ch...