Moms Can't Get Sick

The old saying dictates that moms can’t get sick.  It’s with good reason.  Things fall apart.  Everyone suffers.  Even- especially- the moms, who have even more work to do once they are healthy again.  When I became a mom and realized just how vital my role was, I took the saying that moms can’t get sick one step further and started to tell myself: moms don’t get sick.  I can’t get sick, therefore I won’t get sick.  Mind over matter.  For the most part, this does work.  If I feel a cold coming on, I drink more liquids and take Zicam religiously.  I do not let myself believe that I am getting sick.  Most of the time I do not get sick. 

Last Friday I had an exceptionally busy day.  I had been cooking up a storm the entire week and Friday was the last day of cooking before three straight days of entertaining large crowds.  It was also the day I sliced the place where my right index finger meets my palm on a tin can.  My first thought was that I did not have time to seek medical attention.  I wrapped that finger in paper towel after paper towel until it finally stopped bleeding 45 minutes later.  In the meantime I continued prepping food with my left hand, washed a bunch of dishes, and drove the afternoon carpool.  Mind over matter. 

Once in a while this mantra does not work, and I am forced to succumb to sickness.  Sometimes these bad situations have a silver lining.  A few months ago I was stricken with a stomach virus.  I was bed-ridden.  I ate nothing for four straight days.  I drank only a cocktail of gingerale and powerade.   Once everyone, including myself, accepted the fact that I was very sick, we all fell into a makeshift routine.  My sister came to help one afternoon.  Shimmy came home earlier than usual and took care of the kids.  I did what I could, which was nurse the baby, drive carpool when there were no other options, and sit on the porch steps of a friend, who was afflicted with the same plague, while we watched our kids play with bubbles pour bubble solution on the ground, each other, and themselves.  It sounds horrible, right?  And it was.  Except for the part where I was bed-ridden, couldn’t do anything, and couldn’t eat.  I watched the entire first season of Downtown Abbey (OMG IT’S THE BEST SHOW EVER).  I got a well-deserved break from my 24/7 mom job.  And I lost three pounds, which I have successfully kept off!  In some ways it was a best week ever. 

A few weeks ago something similar happened.  I had had a migraine for close to a week straight.  My doctor suggested I try a new strategy which was to take my prescription meds + an OTC pain reliever.  I didn’t have that particular pain reliever at home, so I left Shimmy in charge, and headed to the store.  There was road work being done, so it took an extra long time to get there.  Once I had bought the pain reliever, I also decided to treat myself to some dark chocolate-covered almonds.  I headed back to my car to sit and eat my snack and take my pills.  Then I decided to pop into the wine store to stock up for the weekend.  They happened to be having an in-store wine tasting, so I sat down and had a nice time tasting wines and talking to the staff.  I headed home, my migraine mitigated, and my spirits lifted.  A day that began in excruciating pain ended up becoming a delightful afternoon of me time.

So, while it is true that moms can’t get sick, and shouldn’t get sick; sometimes they do.  And when they do, they should milk it for all it’s worth.  Because, before they know it, the jig will be up and they’ll have to get out of bed to start the 20 loads of laundry and two sinks full of dirty dishes that await them.

Seventh Heaven

Jude is now seven months old. What?!  How is that possible?!  Craziness! He is at my very favorite baby stage.  He sleeps 12 straight hours at night.  He takes two amazing two-hour naps each day.  He happily eats any pureed food I feed him.  He can sit and play with his toys (or watch his sisters) for nice amounts of time.  He babbles.  He laughs.  He snuggles.  He is adorable.  This is the age that I want to hold onto.  This is the age that upon realizing I can’t hold onto, I usually console myself by saying there will be another.  This time I’m not sure there will be.  And I want to stay here in Seventh Heaven snuggling and giggling with this perfect little boy as long as I can.

Mini Vacation

I recently took a mini vacation.  It felt so bizarre.  Freeing, yet awkward.  Fun, yet involved.  When my hockey team (The Washington Capitals, the only way you wouldn’t know this is if you don’t know me in real life or on Facebook) made it to the second round of Stanley Cup Playoffs I was determined to get to a game, no matter what it took.  Somehow, all of the planets aligned and I was able to go!  It was thrilling, right from the start.  It was my first time on the dc metro in years. I first took the elevator in the wrong direction, because they had completely redone the metro station since I was last there.  I didn’t know if it was “peak of peak” time, so I paid the higher fare just in case. I brought a book (Scary Mommy by Jill Smokler, whom I recently met- that’s a post for a different time!), but I was too excited to read. I felt young and full of possibility. I picked up my date (husband) from his place (office) and headed out to drinks with a fun gay couple (my sister and partner), and then we went to the Caps game, where they ultimately lost in triple overtime.

I had such a fun evening!  But, I couldn’t help but be consumed by the thought that so much preparation went into attending (what should have been a) three hour game. When Shimmy decides he wants to go to a game all he has to do it walk a few blocks. Which he does, about once a week during hockey season in its long entirety.  I, on the other hand, had to arrange for us to spend the night at my parents house, pack us all up, take out garbage, prepare for the cleaning lady who would be coming early the next morning, pick up the girls early from school, drive down to Silver Spring, go over the kids’ detailed schedule with my mom, pack a separate purse (with a hand pump among other things), get a ride to the metro, return to my parents’ house after the game, pack up all up early the next morning, drive the girls to school, and go home exhausted.  Although I wouldn’t want to go through all of those steps too often, it is worth it once in a while.  Everyone needs a mini vacation every now and then!

Taking Pause

My children are growing up so fast. Too fast. Each observation I make about each child (of which there are many during the course of a day) could become an entire blog post in itself. I just can’t keep up. So I am forcing myself to take pause right now and record some observations.

Sophie:

I can’t believe that the Sophie I see now was once my tiny six pound baby. She is a big kid now. She is smart, mature, funny, caring, and helpful. If either Lilah or Jude (or both) is home with me, I prefer Sophie to stay home too. She can entertain and sooth Jude almost as well as a non-parent adult. In some ways she is like a third parent to him. He recognizes her. His face lights up when he sees or hears her, which, in turn, makes my face light up. She recently walked herself to a friend’s house. She had to cross one street that rarely sees a car and then walk a ways down. I could see her the whole time. I watched with a mixture of pride and disbelief as she proudly walked farther and farther away, until she skipped up her friend’s driveway. And my heart skipped a beat.

Lilah:

Lilah has always had a wonderful personality. She has always been sweet, smart, and easy-going. Her vocabulary has always blown listeners away. Her smile has always been contagious. Recently I have observed another quality: self assurance. When she walks into a crowd of people she throws her arms open and exclaims, “Lilah is here!” She knows she is well-liked. She lays on the charm- and it works. Sophie has picked up on this too, and often sends Lilah as an emissary to the parents when one is needed on behalf of the kids. She enjoys playing with both her sister and brother. She gets along with everyone. People often worry about “middle child syndrome” when there are three siblings, but I am not worried. The middle child in our family is laid-back, self-assured, and high-achieving.

Judah:

When people ask me what kind of a baby Jude is, I often say, “he doesn’t know he’s the third child.” I had expected my third child to follow in the footsteps of my second child, who seamlessly fit in with our existing family upon birth. I had hoped for a happy, quiet, and low-maintenance baby. He had other plans. I say he doesn’t know he is the third child, but maybe he does know. Maybe it is precisely because he is my third that he feels he needs to make himself heard. He doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines. He wants to be nursed, held, cuddled, and talked to. And why shouldn’t he be? Firstborn children get the benefit of undivided attention from their parents and research proves that it leads to higher IQ scores, greater success, and other advantages in life. Although Jude’s high demands often inconvenience me, I am proud of his determination and ambition. And I am grateful for the extra one-on-one time I am forced to have with him.

The Elusive Shower

I have always showered daily (or nightly). Always. First, because that’s how we did things in my family when I was growing up. Later, because it was ingrained in me. When I became a mother, because it was 20 minutes of peace that I did not feel guilty demanding. Plus, it seemed necessary with all of the sweat, milk, spit up, etc. I know not everyone showers daily. I know people have different reasons for choosing their shower schedules. I never fully understood why someone would choose not to shower daily (or so it seemed) - until now. I now know that some people intend to shower daily, and really want to, but it just doesn’t happen. These people are victims of the elusive shower. Sadly, I am one of these people from time to time. Here’s how it happens. I am typically a night showerer. However; I might, for some reason, take a shower one morning instead. That night, I’ll skip the shower because I just took one that morning. The next morning I become too busy (with kids, work, errands, appointments, etc.) to shower. I reason with myself that I will take a shower that night, which will put me back on my preferred nighttime shower schedule anyway. That night the kids may give me a difficult time going to bed and it might take until late at night to get all three asleep. I might decide to relax with a tv show. It might be so late at this point that I fall asleep. Without showering. The next morning I wake up and realize that it’s been too long since I’ve showered. But I might as well wait to shower until after I’ve worked out. Then- you guessed it- I get busy with the kids, work, errands, appointments, etc. At some point I realize it has been MORE THAN TWO DAYS SINCE I’VE SHOWERED. At which point I turn the tv on a kids’ show and leave all three kids, some or all of them crying, to their own devices while I shower. And that is how I, and many other well-meaning, hygiene-conscious people, am plagued by the elusive shower.

I Don't Know How She Does It

The first paragraph is the beginning of a post I started writing weeks, maybe months, ago, and just came across today.

A few years ago, my friend and I read the book, I Don't Know How She Does It. (Ironically, the movie based in the book came out a few months ago, but my friend and I gave up trying to find a way to see it.) Even though I think I only had one child at the time, the book really resonated with me. Being a mom is hard. Being a mom and trying to also be anything else is really hard. It can seem impossible at times. Now that I have three children and a new career I feel like I am floundering around in a sea of stress just one big wave away from drowning. I ask myself: How can I do it all? And I answer myself: I can't do it all. And what I can do, I don't always do well. But I do my best. And my best is pretty damn good. And I keep swimming.

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At some point I realize how far I’ve swam, even though it has been hard at times. I realize I haven’t flailed in a while (haven’t cried in a while!). I’m getting somewhere. I think I see some land ahead. I can swim on. I want to!

Every once in a while, like today, the swimming is easy, manageable, almost boring. It is the first day of Spring/Passover Break. I had not made plans for today, and worried we would all be bored and the girls would spend all day watching tv and fighting with each other. I had given up hopes of making it to a hockey game tonight, but given Shimmy my blessing to go ahead (not without feeling very jealous). I pictured a long, difficult day and night. And, yet, the opposite has happened. Sophie was invited out for a play date. Lilah, who has sadly been suffering from allergies all week, has been watching tv in a Benadryl coma. I gave her a mani/pedi and have been sitting with her, but she has required no real attention. Jude has been napping for the past three and a half hours (I keep checking on him- he’s fine!). I have finished all of my Passover preparations and I’m actually kind of bored (hence the blog post!). On days like today, the swimming is smooth indeed. “Doing it all” is doable. I’ll keep today in mind when a rough day of swimming is upon me again.

Finally

Well, it took five months, but we are finally there. Jude is finally on a good schedule: Three naps during the day, and only waking once during the night. He is a happy guy for the most part, smiling, giggling, "talking," and as of two days ago, sitting unassisted! He's in my very favorite baby stage and I have even caught myself thinking about future babies (and then quickly silencing those thoughts- my GOSH hormones are good at tricking us into things, aren't they?!?).

I managed fine without a babysitter for three weeks, although I fell pretty behind with my course work and prayed I would not get any new business. So, as of yesterday, we have a new twice weekly sitter. I like her a lot and so do the kids.

I am finally in a good place with diet and exercise. I still have about eight pounds to go, but I'm feeling good about how far I've gotten. I know the rest will come off soon. Plus, my hair has finally stopped falling out in its typical scary postpartum clumps. So THAT's good.

The last of the construction (all outside) is finally back underway, after a mysterious four month hiatus.

I am finally able to host a long-overdue and much-anticipated couples night this Saturday night. The girls will be at my parents' house and Jude is finally going to sleep at a normal time!

Spring is finally here. Thankfully, Winter was mild, but it's still nice to feel warm temperatures and see flowers blooming!

Finally, here are some recent pics:



Purim: The kids were the three little pigs


Purim: The Mr. and I were "Shamy" from The Big Bang Theory


One sad little piggy :(


Before the CAPS game last Sunday


5 months yesterday!


He is already tall enough for his feet to stand flat at the bottom of the exersaucer!