My Superman

So, I was up early this morning and reading through my google reader, I came across this blog post 10 Reasons Father CAN Be Referred to As Babysitters.

My Superman

Now, I've been following this blog Scarymommy: An Honest Look at Motherhood, for a while now. And usually most of the posts are sarcastic and/or humorus. So I'm just going to hope that for this guest blogger's sake that this blog is tongue and cheek and that she doesn't really mean most of what she says. Because really, who could be married to much a "man"? It seems more like someone describing leaving an older child to watch the kids, not a spouse...an equal partner.

And then I have to remind myself that not everyone's marriage is like my own. And not everyone has the same expectations out of a marriage that I do. Because I can tell you, if I were married to that guy, I'd be divorced.

But we all make our own decisions. And whenever I read blogs like this, I'm more thankful than ever that 6 years ago I chose Superman to by my husband. Maybe he's not the best communicator, and not the most romantic, but he is an AMAZING dad! And he does laundry, and dishes, and vacuums, and changes the oil and fixes the plumbing. We truly are equal partners in this marriage. And I could not imagine anything less.

Happy Mother's Day

All I wanted for Mother's Day was to have a super fun day with my kids, not doing any work, not cleaning, not telling anyone to pick anything up...

So we are headed to an indoor water park for the day.  (Shh...don't tell Thing 1 and Thing 2, because it's going to be a surprise!)

Meanwhile, yesterday I got an early Mother's Day present.  I just love things like these questionnaires, where the teachers ask the kids the questions, and then write down exactly what the children say.

I'll have to remember to do some for Superman for Father's Day.  The kids are always out of school for the summer, so he kind of gets hosed.

Click to enlarge

Click to enlarge

They are amazingly accurate.  Thing 1 does call me Mom.  Thing 2 does call me Amber and Mommy.  My favorite color is red.  And while I'm no Ron Swanson, I have discussed with Thing 1 that we are not vegetarians because we like meat too much. :)

I do think it's funny how one thinks I'm short and one thinks I'm tall.  Tall compared to them, short compared to daddy. :)

The Process of Becoming a Mom (Guest Blogger)

A few weeks ago, I asked one of my best friends if she would be willing to write a guest blog. She'd never written a blog before, and didn't really know what to write about. I said "Just write about a hard aspect of parenting. Something you think another mother in your shoes could relate to."  I suggested she tackle what it was like to be a Navy wife. Or why she longs for a big family (she is currently a mom of three and she wants one more!)  But she felt something else in her heart, and I think you'll love the topic she picked.  Even if you can't exactly relate, it's a touching, inspiring, and moving story.  Let's welcome Christie...


“Wow! That guy is hot!”  That is what I thought when I first saw my husband.

There was definitely an instant physical attraction, but there was also great conversation. His ability to make me laugh was unstoppable. We were practically inseparable from the moment we met.

From very early on, I knew in my heart he was my future, no matter what my friends said or the warnings from my parents.

My friends thought we argued too much, but I saw it as our passion for each other.

My parents said to stay away from Navy guys, because they leave you for months at a time.  But I knew I could handle it, since I had grown up watching my mom go through it with my dad always being deployed as a naval captain.

And it turned out that none of those things were what I struggled with. No, I struggled with the fact that I wasn’t the only girl in his life...and never would be.

She was beautiful, sweet, and at 2 years old, already very determined.  Zoë was his daughter, and I adored her the moment I met her.

Phil had just separated from his wife of two years and was moving to Virginia to stay. Zoë would be joining him as soon as he was settled in, and she would be living with him the majority of the time.

I was only 24, and still used to being a carefree party girl.  It was going to be a major adjustment.  And fast.  But I knew in my heart that my future was with Phil.  And I knew that if my future was with him, then it was also with her, and I needed to find a way to make it work.

It wasn’t easy.

And not only did I have an instant daughter, but I also now had an ex-wife to deal with. I put my mind to it to make it work, and decided the only thing to do was make nice with his ex. I figured the least I could do was be friendly and compassionate towards her.  Because she wasn't just Phil's ex, she was also Zoë's mother.  I tried putting myself in her shoes. I tried to imagine what she was probably going through. I knew losing her husband and her baby girl must have been devastating.

Making the effort to be nice and understanding with Zoë's mother one of the best decisions I ever made.  It really does make things so much easier for Zoë, and she is the one who matters. We continue to have a very friendly relationship to this day. I really do like who she is and respect her for what she has been through and persevered.

Nearly a year and a half after we met, Phil proposed to me on Christmas Day. I didn't have to pause for even 1 second.  I immediately said Yes! I had known for a good while that he was the one, I was just waiting patiently for him to figure it out, too! Luckily, he didn’t make me too wait long.

We married 8 months later and moved into our first place together. Less than a month after our wedding, he left for his first deployment of our marriage. He also left behind Zoë. She only stayed with me a short while before she left to stay with her mom for the rest of the deployment. I went from a family of three to being a single woman again. I couldn't believe how much I missed them both, and anxiously awaited their return.

It seemed like an eternity, but after a few months they both came back and I fell right back into my roles as wife and mother.

It wasn't easy.  I often struggled, to say the least, and questioned myself many times. But I realized that I struggled most because I was jealous of her. She got all of his attention, and I had to fight for a simple moment alone with my newly wed husband. I felt cheated that here I was wanting to be a normal newlywed, but my role as mom took precedence. I started to resent her and take it out on her.

Looking back now, I am sorry that in those days I was too quick to anger, yelled a lot, and forgot how to just have fun and love her. I was hard on her to eat perfectly, clean up after herself, behave in daycare, etc. I know now that I was being very unrealistic.

I didn't have that maternal bond with her, and I desperately wanted it. I prayed every night that I could let my frustration go and just love her. I couldn’t vent about my feelings to my husband either because it seemed he always defended her, and I needed his support. He couldn’t understand what I was going through.  He had never been a stepparent. I felt love for her, but knew I’d never be able to love her like he did.

Or so I thought at the time.

As the years went by, I found that with time and lots of patience that I did indeed grow to love her more than anything.

I now have two of my own biological children, two little boys. And I can say with certainty that my love for my daughter is no different than my love for my sons.

And I'm so thankful to Zoë.  Because she taught me more than I could have ever learned on my own about patience and unconditional love. She helped me learn when to put my foot down and when I needed to stop and just enjoy the moment. She helped me loosen up about the house. Helped me see that it's okay to let it be messy sometimes, because it can always be cleaned up later. In fact, she will help. She really is an amazing little person and I feel so blessed to have her in my life.

Zoë taught me how to be a mom.

And be a better person in general.

I can't even express how much I LOVE being a mom.  I feel like it's been my true calling all along. And I credit a lot of the kind of mom I am now to this little girl. Even though we struggled at first, and she didn’t deserve my short comings in those early years, she still loved me back unconditionally.

And I have realized that she didn’t ask for me either, but she made the most of it as well. She grew with me as I did with her. She makes my life complete and I wouldn’t want to imagine my life without her in it.

Now that my oldest son is 3 years old, I can remember back to many of the struggles I had when she was 3, and I am having the same struggles with him today. I see so clearly now that it's just the way 3 year olds are, and I was the one setting unrealistic demands on her.

But thanks to her, and the amazing relationship we now have, I know that this too shall pass and that these struggles are all worth it!


Can I just add that I am so glad Phil brought this little girl into our lives!!

Perfection

Friday night I stayed up really late sewing some curtains for a friend.

When I headed to bed, this is what I found.

There are no words...

Reason #19 Why My Husband Is A Lucky Man

(Okay, so I randomly made up that number, but I'm sure there have to be at least 20 reasons, right?)

But seriously, Superman is a lucky man because I don't really care about Valentine's Day. Wait, back up, I said that wrong. I love Valentine's Day. I love all the pink and red, and hearts, and candy, and cards. It's just a pretty, superfluous just-because holiday, and there is something I like about that.  But I don't care about the big deal. You know what I mean...the flowers, the jewelry, the reservations, and $40 bottle of wine.

I handmade 48 Valentine's Day cards for Thing 1 and Thing 2's classmates and teachers and helped them give them out at school. I made 24 cupcakes, bought candy, and then arranged this surprise treat for the teachers and staff at their school:

Then I handmade Valentine's Day cards for Thing 1 and Thing 2 from Superman and me.

I found the perfect Valentine's Day card for Superman (It is funny, not romantic. And it talks about my boobs.) and a box of candy that looks like a giant baseball heart.

Tonight, I'll make him one of his favorite dinners: fish tacos.

At bedtime I'll read the kids several books that have love themes, like All the Ways I Love You, and I Will Love You Forever.  Then I'll kiss them goodnight and head off for my shift at the local homeless shelter, like I do every Tuesday.

For me, Valentine's Day truly is just about giving and focusing on how good I feel when I show my love to others.  And I mean it when I say that I don't expect anything in return.

I won't pout it he doesn't send me flowers.  Or buy me gifts. Or take me out for a fine dining experience.  I've assured him over and over that I don't want him to buy me jewelry. Ever. For any holiday or anniversary or occasion.  (Except for earrings.  He can buy me cheap costume jewelry earrings anytime he wants.)  I don't even care if he doesn't buy me one piece of candy (because I have a debit card and two legs, and I will hit up CVS tomorrow and pick up my favorite candy wrapped in red at 50% off!).

But if he doesn't get me a card (and I mean a good card, not a 2 for $1 dollar store card), then so help me I might have to spit in his fish tacos.

Child Worship

In the early 21st century, the late comedian George Carlin defined "Child Worship" as an "excessive devotion to children by professional parents."  Of course, he is a comedian, so he also described these parents as "obsessive diaper sniffers," who are "over-managing their children and robbing them of their childhood."  He refers to those who fill their child's day planners with structured play dates and tutors and teams, etc. instead of allowing them good ol' fashioned play time (playing in the dirt with a stick).

Carlin's main objection to Child Worship seems to be it's contribution to the "self-esteem movement," which he said causes children to experience an artificially indoctrinated notion that they're "special" and "perfect" as if everything they do is wonderful and they have no flaws.  Not to say Carlin implied that all children are terrible, rather he asserts that they are merely "incomplete works."  You know, still learning things.  Making plenty of mistakes in the process.  The biggest fault Carlin finds with this "specialness training" is that we are breeding a generation of narcissist. 

What's so great about having high self-esteem he quips?  "All sociopaths have high self-esteem."

He goes on to say "A lot of kids never get to hear the truth about themselves until they're in their twenties when their boss fires them."

I will admit that as a parent, I can be guilty of Child Worship.  I adore my children.  Beyond adore.  I talk about them all the time.  It's hard for me to have a conversation with someone and not bring up a reference to them (or Superman).  What's funny is that I'm aware I do it, self-conscious of it really.  I can sometimes sense people's disinterest or even annoyance.  But I can't seem to stop.  The more I try to suppress it, the more it seems to pour out like word-vomit. Because they are my world.  My life revolves around those three guys, and I feel like most things I experience are somehow entwined with at least one of them.  

My office is filled, and I mean FILLED, with pictures of my family.  Baby pictures.  School pictures.  Old Christmas cards.  A wall calendar with collages of their pictures.  A digital picture frame on constant rotate of their faces.

Even on Valentine's Day, a day meant for lovers, Superman and I gave one another cards*, but made bags filled with candy and treats attached to heart shaped balloons for the loves of our lives...our boys.

*Although, I must brag on Superman for sneaking a cute balloon into my car while I was at work.  It was a sweet surprise to come out to at 5 pm.

Hello, I even started a blog about them!

But as much as I allow my life and love to be consumed by these 3.5 foot creatures, I do try to keep it in perspective.  I admit my kids aren't perfect.  Far from.  I know they are super rambunctious, loud, obstinate, stubborn, and independent to a point of being frustrating.  And we are working on that.  They are behind in speech development.  We are working on that.  They took almost 15 months to completely potty train.  Luckily, I think we are done (knock on wood) working on that.

And I know Superman and I aren't perfect parents.  I won't dare to speak for him on his parenting-weaknesses, but I will admit that I have plenty.  I'm impatient, get frustrated and lose my temper.  I yell too much.  I complain about being gone from them all day, but once I get home I will use just about any excuse to try and keep from playing trains on the ground with them.  And I can be lazy, letting things I know they should do slide because I'm too tired to force them to do it (flossing!).

But I don't beat myself up too much.  Sure, somedays I feel like the world's worst mother.  But then my son says an unprompted "I love you mommy" or I get a hand drawn Valentine's Day card with a train on it that says "I choo-choo-choose you Valentine" and all of that melts away.  I don't need my sons to become doctors that cure cancer, go to Harvard, or even get all As to feel like I succeeded as a parent.  I just want them to be happy, healthy, and normal.

Sure, I sign them up for music class, swim class, and tee-ball, but that's not because I think they need it to get ahead in this world, but because I have fond memories of being involved with these kinds of things when I was a kid.  The majority of my best childhood friendships formed not on a playground, but as part of an extracurricular activity.

And much more than wanting my boys to  be accomplished or to "feel special", I just want to teach them to be kind, loving, good people who are thoughtful and considerate of others and their feelings. I want them to be the kids in the class that are nice to everyone...from the little ESL boy who doesn't speak any English to the chubby kid everyone else teases to yes, even the bully who is mean to them.

It broke my heart yesterday to hear certain kids in their preschool class say "I'm not giving Valentine's to Thing1 and Thing2".  And I wondered, what in the world would make a child at 3, 4, or 5 years old already be so mean?  Do their parents know their child would say something like this?  Would their parents care or chalk it up to "Oh, you know kids..."?  To me, this is unacceptable behavior.  If Thing1 or Thing2 ever said such a thing about one of their classmates, I would tell them they gave out cards to everyone or no one.  Because I feel strongly that we are teaching our children right now how to treat others.  Are the kids who are exclusionary of their peers in preschool the ones who start hate-campaigns on Facebook as teenagers?  The ones that are cliquy and backstabbing as adults?  Or is it merely a stage all kids go through and will simply outgrow?  I don't know, but I'm not taking that chance with my kids.  "Do unto others as you would have done unto you" is something I strongly believe in and am determined to teach my children to observe.  And that means that not everyone has to be your friend, but you still have to be nice to them.

I'm just glad that right now Thing1 and Thing2 are too young to truly understood the whole Valentine's Day thing.  They didn't seem to hear the offending statements, or at least understand or care, nor notice in the mass confusion of card giving if they were missing a few from certain classmates.  They were perfectly happy handing out their cards with treats to ALL of their classmates.  Which made me happy and proud of them.

And if being concerned about my 3 year olds' feelings over something as trivial as Valentine's Day cards makes George Carlin categorize me as a "Child Worshipping" parent, than bring on the religious car emblem, because I'll display it proudly.  Right next to my "My child is nice to your Honor Roll student" bumper sticker.

My how date nights have changed

Last week, Superman and I were feeling very frustrated with parenthood and mentioned to his parents that we'd love a night off.  So, they offered to take the boys overnight one night this weekend.  Let the countdown begin!  Everyday it was "# more sleeps til your sleepover at Grandma and Papaw's."  The boys were looking forward to their slumber party at their grandparents' house, but not as much as we were looking forward to our night alone.

Then Saturday came.  Grandma and Papaw came to pick up the boys, and Superman and I still didn't know what we were going to do for our night alone.  At first, we busied ourself around the house working on individual projects.  But as it started getting dark I started bugging him, "what are we going to do tonight?"

Going to a movie sounded too overpriced and there wasn't anything we particularly wanted to see anyway. Dot Dot Dot was playing at the Bluebird, but we couldn't imagine staying up that late to go see a band at a bar.  We didn't want to go out to dinner because I'm back on Weight Watchers and eating out can be tough for me right now.  Basically, none of the traditional date night things were working for us.

So, I said "Do you remember B.C. when we used to cook together all the time?  Let's both cook dinner tonight, just like the old days."  So we did.  We made a delicious shrimp stir-fry and ate it slowly, without having to tell anyone to sit down or take "just two more bites."  Then, we both did the dishes together without having to decide who was going to clean up and who was going to give the bath.

Then, we decided to do something that we never get to do anymore...go shopping alone.  Together.  What a quiet, peaceful, relaxing evening of walking around a store and having the luxury to not hurry.  Not have to worry that something will get broken.  That a boy will wonder off.  Or throw a fit when he doesn't get what he wants.

After thoroughly browsing through some of our favorite stores, we headed home and whipped up a batch of popcorn.  Then, we cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie on Netflix.

We enjoyed a wonderful night of sleeping with no little boys coming in and taking up space, kicking us, stealing blankets, or waking us up early.

Speaking of waking up early... We slept in.  Then took our time getting ready for church in the morning (although we still managed to be late!), and then afterwards continued our shopping spree.  We went to the mall and just enjoyed walking around.  It was heavenly.

This afternoon, Grandma and Papaw brought the boys home and we all enjoyed a big Brinner while the boys excitedly told us about their sleepover.  Eating chicken nuggets, playing with Grandpa's train, and talking to their cousin.

It is wonderful to have the boys home, because we did miss them even after just 24 hours.  But, it was so incredibly nice to have some time to just be us again.  Back to the us we were for almost 5 years before becoming the us we are as parents.