this is how it is...

I found this draft from two years ago. Publishing it now:

It's been almost a year and a half since I've written. Sean is 6. Gia is 4. My guilt over not writing is almost insurmountable: the time is gone. My soul hurts at the thought of these memories combined into a blur. When was the final time I squeezed Sean into the double stroller? Christmastime, I think. We had a good laugh over his long legs hanging over the bar. I tell myself: this is how it is...maybe other mothers have it more together (scrapbooking?!)

Sean is in kindergarten and can read and do math. He plays x-box and I'm sure knows more about computers than I do. Gia is sweet little lady whose mood can turn on a dime. She has one more year of half days at Montessori and then I will have my day to myself. I am horrified by this thought. I feel out of place going to the supermarket or the mall without a child in tow. How does one experience empty nest when the nest is full? Leave it to me. I've been out of the 'work' force for 6 years now. I don't know what I am good at anymore. I don't know who is going to hire me with such a gap in my resume. I have managed to record some of my music for a cd. So I can tell myself I'm an artist.

Gia is obsessed with Frozen, Brave, and Little Mermaid. I had hopes of not going the princess route, but here we are. She is a princess. 

No one ever talks about fighting with their children. 

Nature's Classroom

Let's not mention the fact that I haven't written a thing in four years. Maybe it's just too painful to write. Last night I remembered this blog and re-read some of the posts I'd written. I was in tears, mostly because I was missing my 6 and 8 year olds as babies, and also from the regret of letting any of the other memories that I could've documented slip away. When I expressed this to Eric, he said well you wrote some stuff and now write more. Well said, science man. Sometimes I appreciate his non-emotional responses.
I'm compelled to write because Sean is leaving in a few days on his first 3 day excursion with his classmates to Nature's Classroom. That's two nights sleeping somewhere else. That's two mornings of no one to remind him a dozen times to brush his teeth.
I started this post awhile ago. We got through Nature's Classroom just fine. Sean came home wearing what I sent him there in. He didn't change his clothes. The entire time. Needless to say, there was not a lot of laundry to do when he returned, safe and sound.

A year gone by....poof...

Last night before tubby I told Sean to stand still while I took an eyelash off his cheek. I held it at the end of my finger and told him to make a wish. He said aloud My wish is for everyone in the world to have what they need before blowing the lash away. This melted my heart. Sean is two months shy of 5 and is going to be a Wild Thing this Halloween. Gia's going to be a unicorn. She is 3 months shy of 3. Shortly after my heart melted it was soon hardened by the litany of shit Sean's been saying lately: idiot, stupid, dumb. Aren't these insults supposed to be hurled at me from a teenaged mouth? My sweet boy, who still kisses me at the front door at school has learned the power bad words can wield. The problem I have is, it's a daily occurence. We've tried time outs, reasoning, pleading, toys taken away. Nothing works. Sean gets so angry at times, as if he's fighting the world. At the playground, he acts like a tough guy and a policeman at the same time (telling kids to remove their shoes at an indoor playplace). It's almost funny, his little screwed up face, like he's smelling something bad. He's preoccupied with being a big boy.
Gia started school last week. The night before the big day, I cried my eyes out. I'd been trying to prepare for this, but it didn't hit me until it happened. Sean has been going to school since age 2.9, but I always had the baby with me. My little partner. Our routine was to drop off Sean at school and then have a little conversation in the car in the rearview mirror on our way home. We'd pull back into the garage and I'd help her out of her carseat and we'd go back into the house together, me, holding the heavy cellar door away from her precious fingers. Now I return without her. Alone. It is beyond strange. I get that it is good for her. I get that she is spreading her wings a little. She seems to love school. I'd been bringing her in, bit by bit, for a few weeks, at the end of the day before collecting Sean. The first few times she cried and didn't want me to go. She hid behind me as Miss Maritza came out. I stayed stoic though I was panicking thinking this is not going well at all. Gia cried Mama as Miss Maritza lifted her over her shoulder and carried her towards the classroom. I don't think I can erase the look of horror on her tiny face, as if I were giving her away (which, in essence, I was). Fifteen minutes later, her "day" was done and her face was blotchy. I felt I was betraying her. It got easier for her. Soon she was looking forward to her 15 minutes, then up to a 1/2 hour, and she started her 3 hour day last week. On her first real day, she ran hand in hand with Sean into the double doors without a glance back. I joked to the women standing near me hey what about me but I was a little heartbroken. I actually missed the moment earlier when she wanted me and cried for me, arms outstretched as she was being carried off. But I just stood there when she did that, telling myself it was the right thing to do. I suppose...I just wish I didn't feel so damn lousy about it.

xo

Halloween and other scares...

Our swing, pack & play, high chair, play yard gate & baby clothes sit in a consignment shop in Hingham as I type. They've been sitting there over a week now, and I keep thinking about them. The little yellow cordoroys Gia wore The little sleep sack with helicopters on it Sean wore. I have to stop these thoughts. I've already been back once, to retrieve their Halloween costumes that I thought I could part with. But no. The little spider costume and penguin costume Sean & Gia wore for their first Halloweens had to come back. I lied to the shop owner and said my son was upset I had let them go. But it was me. I had put everything in the back of my car in haste and hauled it off as I made my first effort to accept that Eric & I are done having children. Yes, there is room in my basement for these things. I suppose I could've kept them for another couple years until it was really over but I tell myself if we did have another baby these things could be replaced. Part of me cannot imagine not having a third baby. I want another chance at giving life. I found out what I was having with Sean & Gia and would love to experience the surprise just once. But the reality is I'm so frazzled with the two I have I can't imagine being pushed over the edge of a cliff of a third baby. Already there is not enough of me to go around. There is no time to play piano, to write. To do anything for myself. Perhaps this is the source of my sadness. Yet, for a full time mom I still don't devote as much quality time to the children as I should. I like to think of myself as patient, but I am not. My blood boils quickly. So what happens when there is a third? Do I get completely erased? Does sanity get eradicated?

Things happen every day that I long to grasp on to, but I feel them slipping away from me even as they happen. When did life get so sad or rather when did I start experiencing it as such? When I find myself cringing at Sean calling Mama for the hundreth time in a minute, I can fast forward to a day when his voice is changed, or he's moved away, and my hallway will ring empty of the precious sounds. There are things that have stuck around, like Sean calling Fig Newtons "ma toons." I love when he asks me for three ma toons, in a bowl. Too often when Sean asks "Mama will you play with me?" I have some reason not to, or I answer that I can "in a few minutes." But I recognize there will come a time when he won't want to play with me, that this time is disappearing as it passes, that I should drop everything I'm doing and grasp at the chance.

And then there is one year old Gia. I cut her bangs once over the summer but am back to growing them out again. Everytime I put a barrette in her hair or put clothes on her she says "pretty." She has the sweetest lilt of a voice. She says "I nuh no" for "I don't know." She calls the cats "Dottie" (one of the names of our cats). She says "look at me Mama" even when she's not doing anything. She says "buh buh" for any drink whether it's in a sippy cup or a glass. She is my sweet, sweet girl.

Sean also says & does things that kill me. I suppose since he's still 3 he truly can't be held accountable for what he says & does but he tells me to go away all the time and sometimes he even says that he doesn't love me. He terrorizes Gia one minute and is loving the next. Gia actually repeats his "go away Mama" which double kills me. I worry so much for him, right now he does this slurping sound with his drool which I pray goes away. He also started to stick his tongue out and down all the way his chin for seemingly no reason. WTF is that all about? I pray these habits leave him, for his sake.

Eric is having surgery on his face at the end of the month to remove a cancerous spot on his temple. There's actually another one on the other side we've noticed but he hasn't had it biopsied yet. Eric will be 40 next June. I pray they get it all. That's all I can say about it.

This year and Sean is going to be a knight and Gia a princess. These are fitting costumes. This is how I see them.

xo

"winning"

Last night Sean woke up for what seemed like the hundreth time, and I went in. He said he was afraid of his animals (I have offered to remove the life sized giraffe, tiger and zebra from his room before). He is, in fact, not afraid of these animals because he screams when I actually make a move to do so and states that he loves them. Really, he is just looking for any kind of conversation. If the wake-ups revolve around peeing or a getting a drink of water (valid reasons) the process is usually expedient. But when he calls my name to get me out of bed to have his back rubbed again (the last step in his night time routine) or something else (like the animals or just to talk) and I tell him calmly I'm going back to bed and goodnight he starts getting loud and crying and pitches a fit. I try to be patient during the first few non valid wake up times but find my blood boils once they start accumulating; not only am I beyond exhausted but I am frightened because my child (and we) never gets a good night's sleep and I don't know why. He doesn't eat candy or have caffeine, he gets a moderate amount of exercise. He ends up cranky during the day and I can barely function. Not to mention he shares a wall with his baby sister, who he inevitably wakes up as the noise escalates. Last night, as Gia howled in her room from being woken up, I had him back in his bed and he asked through tears "are you going to lock me in my room?" and I died a little. I know I've threatened that a couple times in the past, when he's crept out of his room for the 100th time, as in "if you come out one more time, I'm going to lock your door." But I never have. So there in the dark I answered him solemnly: "No. I will never lock you in your room, but Gia is crying and I need you to stay in your bed." To which he calmed down and finally did (for a little while, anyways). But I lay in bed awake for hours afterwards, horrified that this child recalled what I threatened in desperation just a couple times before. I won't say it again, though I might think it, and I pray the memory of it fades quickly in his mind.

xo

Divine

I grew fiery when
Your great-grandmother called
It horrible English hair

Its wisps cross
Your forehead to
Tickle blue eyes

This same woman deemed
The color of my wedding
Gown dirty ivory

What does she know nothing
Her eight daughters together
Don't meet your beauty

Your little lady face
Twists so easily baby
Hands fly to fine locks.

6.5.11

two funny things

Two funny things in two days has prompted me to write after 9 months gone by with no blogging. This morning the coffee maker was making its usual gurgling sound and Sean, 3.5 years old says he hears someone snoring. The other is yesterday Sean came in to me and said "do we eat turkeys, like, their bodies?" To which I answered yes, and expalined that it is the same as when we eat chicken or cows. He made a horrified face and exclaimed "that's sad!" To which I had to answer honestly, "yeah, it kind of is." This little boy astounds me with some of the things he comes up with, much like any parent, I suppose, is amazed with their child. Tomorrow is his spring concert with his school. The headmaster warned me that some of the little kids don't make it up there but I'm confident he'll be a champ.

Gia is 17 months old today. She says a few words. Mama, Dada, tubby, Nana, nana (for banana), hi, and maybe a couple more but I am waiting impatiently for her to say more. I beg her every day to say "cup" holding her milk high above her head but she just laughs. I beg her to say Sean and she utters something that does not sound like Sean. Hell, Sean couldn't say Sean for the longest time. She is really good at mimicking words. Physically, she's a dynamo, and climbs everything there is to climb with no regard to her safety. She is the most beautiful girl on the planet. She sleeps in her own crib at night and pretty much sleeps through the night which is the complete opposite from Sean who STILL wakes up all night long and cries and needs comfort from either me or Eric. It is exhausting, though I still blame myself for letting him sleep in the bed with me for his first 18 months.

I stopped breastfeeding Gia about a month ago, right before mother's day. She doesn't seem to miss it and it was a long time coming. It never seemed to be the right time to stop. I would try to memorize her face every time, the delicious weight of her in my arms and lap. I would tell myself, OK this is the last time. Finally I just said to myself, the last time was the last time so it wasn't so damn sad. Sean got two months more than her. Second baby always gets shafted, I guess. Gia loves to stand in the tub. She also loves to dance in front of this singing Elmo chef magnet thing that has three plastic pans hanging from it. I must've mentioned her dimple on her right cheek before. It is just gorgeous and is not going anywhere. She sort of looks like a pirate when she smiles. I could eat her up. I've been playing piano more and she loves to bang on it too. I think both she and Sean are musical which I am really excited about. Why wouldn't they be? All I do is sing. The other morning while preparing breakfast I was singing "Cryin" by Aerosmith and got to the part "I was crying when I met you now I'm trying to forget you, your love is sweet misery." Sean said "that is not a nice song." Haha. Whoops.

I want to write a poem to suit Gia. I feel the little writing I've done has been about Sean and she deserves some thought. If only I could keep my damn eyes open and my thoughts flowing. I'll be back, Soon.

xo