Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Kelsey Lately: Motherhood Edition

I'm baaaa-aaaack!  Did you miss me?  I missed all of you!  Life has been quite the whirlwind lately... and when it finally calmed down -- and I began writing blogs in head during the night -- my DSL connection went bad.  Can I just say that going five days without a home phone or Internet was a killer?  I didn't realize how addicted I was to it all.  Particularly Facebook, which I will now refer to as "digital crack."

Let's get rolling with another installment of my favorite rambling posts.

Kelsey Lately: Motherhood Edition
*disclaimer: I cannot promise you there will be any rhyme, reason, or systematic approach to what follows*

I love this so much.
While my husband went on a business trip to California, I took the munchkin and the mutt to Kansas City to see my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew.  As I have said many times before, my sister is my best friend, and I always cherish the time we get to spend together.  But, for the record, she runs me ragged!  I assume that I am used to a slower-paced, small town life.  She, on the other hands, loves to explore all of what the Kansas City area has to offer.  After several days of exploring, playing, shopping, and staying up late to talk about nothing and everything; I was ready for a margarita and a solid twelve hours of sleep.

At the brand new Aquarium "Sea Life."  You can see that my
sister's shirt blended with the green screen.

My little guy on the pedal tractors at Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead.

My adorable nephew riding a pony at Deanna Rose.

Helping my munchkin bottle feed the baby goats.

I will admit that I loved all of the memories made in just a few days.  We have been having continuous conversations about stingrays, sea stars, sharks, bird nests, cows named Olive, feeding goats, eating at Fritz's, bunnies, golf carts, soccer, and sea horses since we got home.

A few weeks ago, at the end of a very bad day -- you know the kind of day where you can sort of understand why wild animals eat their young -- I found a large inhabitants of ants living in my home office.  I was immediately, and unnecessarily upset.  I became even more upset when I opened a box that appeared to be their mother ship.  When a few crawled up my arms, I flipped my lid.  I mean it.  Flipped.  My.  Lid.  I called my husband and yelled at him for not having sprayed because we live in Kansas and they travel indoors when it rains and our windows are old and he should have sprayed three weeks prior and how dare he make those ants live under our computer desk and crawl up my arms dammit!  Not my finest moment.  He calmly told me that he didn't put the ants there and that I needed to chill out.  You know that moment in cartoons where the character begins to turn red like an old-fashioned thermometer, beginning at his toes and traveling up to his head before the top of his head finally blows off?  That's kind of what happened to me next.  Like I said, not my finest moment.

A few days later, my husband and I were reading a bug book to our son.  I pointed at a spider and said, "This is a spider.  If you see one of these, you step on it."  Next up were the ants.  I smiled and jokingly said, "This is an ant.  If you see one of these, you call Daddy and yell at him."  My husband and I chuckled.  I assumed that our little guy's two-year-old brain would soon forget my comment.  Nope.  I don't mind that he says, "Spider.  Step on it."  But it is a little worrisome that he still calls ants "Call Daddies."  Crap.

 My son has been going through a phase of telling us what things are not.  For instance, I will ask him the color of his shirt.  Instead of telling me that it is blue, he will tell me that it is "not pink" or "not green".  We were at the grocery store recently and a stranger asked his name.  His response?  "Not Joan!"  "Not Joe?" she asked.  He looked at her square in the eye and with perfectly over-emphasized pronunciation he said "NOT. JOAN."  She looked mildly confused and said (in her deep smokers voice), "No I'm not Joan, I'm Vickie."  He looked super annoyed, held one hand up and said a very attitude heavy, "Bye."
Not Joan.
A lot of funny things have been coming out of my toddler's mouth lately.  I kind of wonder why his little brain works the way it does sometimes.  He has been playing around with different types of laughter (many times in situations that aren't funny at all), followed by a "Ha ha ha, that so funny!"  He has also been practicing talking in funny voices.  My favorite is a very deep (almost exorcist style voice) in which he will repeatedly say "Scooby Doo."  He will also break out in dance almost anywhere -- he has a pretty awesome white boy dance (you know, all elbows and no hips).  His new favorite song is "Skinamarinky Dinky Dink".  I have a feeling that he might follow in the footsteps of his mommy and have a love for theatrics.

We stopped for a drive-thru lunch recently, and as I was trying to order, he was loudly telling the speaker his name and yelling over and over, "HI!  I want somfing to eat pwease!"  And when I was paying, again with the introductions and the repetition of , "HI!  Fank you!"

He has also been inhibiting an incredibly sweet side lately.  He will say things like, "Oh fank you mommy --  I wuv you so much!"  "I yike Daddy.  Daddy is so hasome (handsome)."  And recently he came and hugged my leg and said "Awww... you sweetheart Mommy." 

Because my son loves race cars so much, my husband has been letting him watch Nascar.  I have a constant fear that if he watches much more he will want to wear a mesh hat with a picture of a confederate flag.  Anyway, he loves watching the cars and likes to talk about "Juner", "Darrell Cartrip", and "Jeff Govette".  He gets super excited for the pit stops, and reacts with quite the level of emotion during a wreck.  While in Kansas City, my sister and I took our boys into an accessory shop in a snooty part of town, and as we were trying to keep them quiet -- both of their "inside voices" are already quite loud -- my son starts yelling "JIMMY JOHNSON!  JIMMY JOHNSON!  JIMMY JOHNSON!"  You can imagine the looks we received after that.

Now that I have an almost 2 1/2 year old, I am constantly being asked "isn't it about time for another one?"  My answer to this is, "No.  It's not."  I don't mind the original question, as long as the conversation heads in an agreeable direction.  But I get frustrated when complete strangers try to convince me to have another baby.  One woman even said, "Oh you just have to have another one, then you can have a boy and a girl and be done!"  As if I have any control over that.  Generally people back down when I tell them that I'm not certain that I am ready to put my body through the hell of full blown PCOS and fertility treatments.  But sometimes I get the extra stubborn "Preg-o-Nazi" who tries her hardest to make me want to get pregnant.  I even had one tell me that she just hated only children.  Really?!  Those are the times I get a really strong urge to shut them up by busting out The Running Man while singing "It's My Vagina" (to the tune of Bobby Brown's "It's My Prerogative").

It's not that I don't ever want another baby -- but it's also not that I necessarily do either.  I love being a mommy, I love my son, and I have especially loved watching my husband become such an amazing dad.  But we are content with where our life is at right now.  Maybe someday we will feel that a piece of our puzzle is missing.  But, then again, maybe we won't.
There are days when pancake-induced fits make me think
that one might be enough for us....

I have been learning recently that I am not the mom I had expected myself to be.  I had intended to be a perfect wonder-woman with an always perfectly dressed child.  No snotty noses or dirty cheeks to be found here.  No sir!  Winter pajamas are not allowed in the Spring.  Clothes must match at all times.  No running around half dressed.  My child will never throw a fit at the grocery store.  Homemade baby food, handmade crafts and picture perfect picnics would be a way of life, by golly.  I was driving myself crazy with all of the expectations I had put on myself as a mother, and probably stressing out my poor son as well.  But what I have learned lately, is that it is so much more fun to breathe -- to not stress out when life doesn't go as planned -- to just deal with the fact that dirt happens, poop gets flung onto walls sometimes (because you know that, even though they hold perfectly still for wet diapers, the minute you have the most disgusting poopy diaper in history, they flail about like a seizing octopus on speed), and meltdowns happen in public.  Believe me, the anxiety and fear of being inadequate still takes hold some days.  But, as a whole, I think I am getting better, and my son seems to be having a lot more fun.
Playing outside with messy hair, no pants, and Lightning McQueen slippers.

Playing outside, in April, in snowman pajamas, with sandals.

Below you will find links to two great mothering articles that I found online.  Obviously I want you to read them:  Don't Carpe Diem  and Your Children Want YOU!

Thank you for keeping me In Good Company.

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