Finishing up the week ...

Shipping Anchor, a painting based on my older son, by my husbandThere is nothing finished about parenting.  No days where everything is done, no moments when you stop being a mom, no time when your memory isn’t stuffed with bits and pieces of parenting and birthing and whining and smiles and worries and epiphanies.  They say don’t sweat the small stuff, and yet that’s the very fabric of life, isn’t it?  The sweat glues all the little threads together, keeping us somewhat intact. 
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Q of the Week : What are your Dreads and Delights this week?

At least I’m not dreading cleaning up Lego this week, I can shut the door on it and not have to see it for once :). (Dreading finding a new housemate for that room? Whole other story!)I became aware this afternoon, as the light faded and dinner responsibilities approached, that my enthusiasm was waning and my shoulders were hunching a bit in anticipation of the week’s responsibilities.  I then realized that the same feeling arrives every Sunday night.  Like clockwork.  I dread Mondays. 
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All over the map

Illustration by Douglas V.

I had one of those nights last night, where you know you’re going to fall apart, and kind of want to because it’s like scratching an itch, and then when you do it’s rather hard to stop.  Really hard, actually.  You get caught off guard by the itensity of what you’ve been bottling up, and discover that what you’re crying the hardest about has nothing to do with what started the sob-fest in the first place.  Ever been there?  Yeah, you know what I mean.  It was a rough night. 

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Is Parenting Feeling Hard? Maybe You're Thinking Too Much (Guest post by Gina Osher)

On occasion, I want to tear my hair out, toSometimes I can’t wait for the day to be over. Yes, I said it. Sometimes I am just trying to kill the seemingly endless hours between the crack-of-dawn time that my kids wake up, to the can’t-come-soon-enough hour that they go to sleep. Perhaps this feeling stems from the really intense phase our daughter has been going through in which she needs to be in control of everything. And when she’s not allowed to have her way, holy Mother of God…watch yourself! Or maybe the recent four month long phase where our son was using me as a human pacifier and waking every two hours to ask for a snuggle is what makes me feel that the days are, at times, interminable. Or maybe it’s because my husband had a heart attack two months ago and I am trying give him more time to relax on weekends (hello, Saturdays on my own with the kids). Or maybe this tense feeling comes from micro managing every quarrel and crabby interaction my kids have in a misguided attempt to teach them to get along.
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Reinventing Myself After Baby #2 (By Christina S.)

Photo courtesy of CarynNL via Flickr

How I Went From Working Mom to Stay-At-Home Mom to Writer/Mom

I love the term “reinventing oneself.” It’s full of possibilities.  It can mean a new wardrobe, a new haircut or something more profound, like a big life change.

For me, reinventing myself came out of necessity after I abruptly quit my corporate job when I was eight months pregnant with my second child.   Burned out, exhausted, stressed and running myself into the ground, I decided to call it quits. 

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Letting go of mess ...

I’m not so good at handling mess in my house.  A little obsessive I’d say, with the tendency to clean up the kids things before a project is entirely finished.  We have little space to spread stuff out, and can’t really “shut the door” on a mess anywhere unless it’s in their room … which is usually carpeted with Lego anyhow.  I have a 4-year-old who thinks Dad can make anything*, and should do so, at his command, every day. 
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Recognizing Yourself

I had that eerie experience yet again last night, where you recognize some aspect of yourself in a book or movie, and walk away shaking your head, perhaps shivering a bit.  The culprit this time was Natalie Portman’s character in the movie Black Swan.  A disturbing and powerful movie, well played, and still haunting me a bit.  No I don’t look like Natalie, nor am I a dancer, but her struggles with perfection and letting go?  Oh boy do I get that.  I get it like a second skin.  I live it every day, I struggle with it, and while I won’t spoil it for you if you haven’t seen it, I totally get the ending.  Makes complete sense to me in a twisted way. 
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Whistling in the Dark, part II

I’ve been trying to write all week.  It’s not been successful, and now is a bad time to write as the boys are ready to start the day (don’t ask!), but I’ll give it a shot.  At least until they start killing each other. 

I wasn’t quite ready for the new year, but I don’t really have any other options other than continuing to go about my daily business, ready or not.  Homeschooling started off pretty well, meaning the boys were more than ready to start some work again, and are having a good time with it. 

I came up with a few new tricks which seem good to add to the arsenal. 

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When the Tables Start to Turn (by Darah)

For years I had been so focused on mothering my own kids—reading, observing, conversing with peers, and essentially learning all that I can about all this monstrous job entails—that it never occurred to me that I could put those same skills to good use to help me better understand my own mother.  As a mother, I am constantly striving to improve my abilities to communicate with and relate to each one of my kids and the respective stages {crises} they are going through.  Having survived so many intense experiences myself in so few years, {which will all be presented in my not-yet published memoir,} admittedly, I realize that I have become hardened to the sensitivities of others. 
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I promised to let you know how it went ...

When you run through water stations in the middle of a pack of 45,000 people, you get a little dirty from discarded cups and banana peels …I ran my second-ever marathon yesterday.  It wasn’t one bit the race I’d hoped and planned for, and by far the hardest race I’ve ever run.  In my neatly-planned life list, the “sub-four-hour-marathon” box is still unchecked.  It may very well remain that way forever, I don’t know.  All I know right now is that yesterday wasn’t to be that day, not from the get-go, and that I gave it every single ounce of my energy, and then many more, and came up with a 4:13.  I am content.  A bit disappointed, yes, but I know I could not possibly have tried harder. 
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Writer's Block (by Darah)

Many people ask me from where I get my ideas and how I choose my topics. Frankly, I haven’t the luxury of time or serene lifestyle that enables me to simply inhale deeply, face my computer, and “begin the creative process.” The reality is that as I go about my hectic days, thoughts will suddenly “pop” into my head. I’ll imagine converting a stressful moment or funny situation into a blog article.

First Scenario
I’m driving in the car with several of the children and something they say or do is the impetus for an article idea. “What a great piece that would make —so darn funny and everyone can relate.” I mumble to myself psychotically, cracking up all alone.
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In a mood

Why onions? Dunno. Liked the picture, and suits my mood somehow. Spicy and likely to make people around me cry … I don’t know what’s up with me today.  Once again I stayed up too late, so 6 hours of sleep didn’t quite cut it.  I’m running a lot lately, dealing with a UTI at the same time, and need more sleep than normal.  I’m not getting it.  Late nights means lateish mornings, and we all get off to a slow start.  This time of year I need to be in the sunshine every second it’s available, or I crash and burn into a slow depression that goes on for months.  It’s not pretty.  This year it seems to be hitting earlier than normal, which has me a bit freaked out as it’s not even November yet!  I think it’s time to do some writing again, in my journal, and vent some of the stuff I’m stewing about under the surface.  Isn’t it crazy that as moms we take care of everyone else, but somehow getting to care for ourselves is a luxury?  So stinkin true lately. 
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Q of the Week : How do you capture creative time?

One of the rare times when inspiration and time coincided … a bag I threw together for my SIL’s birthday. I’m stymied.  I’m a reasonably creative person, when I’m rested at least, and when pressed can usually come up with something.  However, when the ‘mood strikes’ and I’ve got something I’m dying to write or make, it’s only once in a year that the time is actually there in front of me, for the using.  By the time I HAVE time, the magic moment is gone and it’s drudgery again.  I can often drag  it out of my memory somewhere, or laboriously construct it from notes I’ve scribbled, but it’s simply not the same.  How do you deal with this??
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An Open Letter to Myself Ten Years from Now (by Darah)

Dear Self,

I know you are overwhelmed. Caring for five young children, maintaining the house, launching a new career, being a wife, friend, and daughter — all in a day’s work — is grueling. Your eyes are always bloodshot from the chronic sleep deprivation and the dark circles cannot be masked with any amount of concealer. Yet, believe me when I tell you this: you will yearn for these days ten years from now.
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The Warrior Mom Gets Down and Dirty (by Darah)

I surrendered to my fate — for a couple of hours today.  You see, I “survive” in a chaotic environment overrun by children — five active ones ages nine and under- to be specific.  In my parallel fantasy world, I am an accomplished writer/author and business owner. However, reality has me in it’s tenacious grip as I struggle to juggle all of my hidden desires with my actual responsibilities - one of those being “housework.”   No, it is not glamorous and I didn’t have to obtain a Master’s degree to study the “art of cleanliness” or intern for a prestigious Fortune 500 company to “learn the ropes” on how to execute the proper technique.

But, it must get done.  And, my motto has always been “if you’re going to do something, do it well … and take pleasure in it.”
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Tranquility Can Be Found in the Oddest of Places - All You Need is to be in the Right State of Mind (by Darah)

Peace and tranquility can be found anywhere and is in the “mind of the beholder.”

Each year I get an MRI of the brain as a follow up to my surgery. I had this done the other night. I scheduled it for the end of the evening so I could first get everything done for all the little and big people in my life.

It was 8pm and I was waiting in the MRI Lounge enjoying a good read in a national magazine when they called me in.  As usual, by this time of night, I was weary and drained from all that tending to five young children entails.  Nonetheless, the technician started to prep me about taking off my jewelery, removing all metal objects, how to breathe, how to stay motionless, composed, etc.; I knew the drill.  He was assessing my mental state to ensure that he wasn’t going have to sedate some frantic claustrophobic once shoved inside the tunnel for a solid hour.
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Why I hate feeding my toddler (by Darah)

Let’s face it.  Feeding toddlers is no fun.  The parent must be completely “unplugged” as this is one stressful endeavor that demands our undivided attention.

My two year-old is too busy for food; sitting down to a proper meal is never on her agenda.  If it were up to her, she’d happily spend the day grazing. Getting her through a “sit-down meal” is exhausting and oftentimes, I wonder if it’s more trouble than it’s worth!

This precocious active kid has bounds of energy whether she eats her “square meal” or not.

I know, I know, the rationale extends beyond the actual nutrition and eating habits- it’s the cultivation of manners, table etiquette, establishing rituals, etc, etc.

In spite of the above, the five reasons I dread feeding my beloved two year-old are:

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Embrace the Chaos - Surrendering Lessons from a Type A in remission! (by Darah)

Before having children I was efficient, punctual and tidy.  Known as “controlling” by those closest to me -- a textbook Type A. 

Evolution has since exerted its influence and old standards have been re-evaluated. With the entrance of each newborn child into the family commune, a little piece of my old self has been discarded. Thrust into this structure-less Type B system while maintaining composure is my perpetual quest — for if I don’t adapt, I will perish.

Five tips on how to surrender
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In the Zone

I do miss the midwestern sky I grew up with … I came home from vacation determined to stay calm.  I was reasonably relaxed, though stiff and sore from sitting in cars, strange beds, long runs, and too many restaurants.  We’d done the usual “clean up while packing” frenzy that I’m prone to, as I hate coming home to a mess-strewn house.  So we returned to a never-this-tidy apartment, and I put stuff away as soon as possible. 
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Recession-Lessons = Stronger Smarter Family (by Darah)

Image courtesy of MyEyeSees, via FlickrEverybody is pouting about the Recession and how it has negatively impacted their lives. I get it. Perhaps I am no longer moping since we were the Recession Pioneers; we actually began downsizing our lifestyle twenty-seven months ago, were “beaten beyond recognition” and now have only one direction to go from here- UP!

Nevertheless, our sulking time is long gone!

Being such “Seasoned Veteran Recession-ists,” our family’s coping methods have evolved over time; now they’ve become the quintessential Recession Survival Skills.

Here is a concise list of some “Recession-Lessons” learned that have unexpectedly enhanced our family life and continues to school our kids in business …
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