Gray Days

I wish I knew why the gray day brings me cascading, descending, like someone holding my head underwater, and the angst bubbles up like fizz in my tummy
why the gray day sags my face and I look like a sad clown, an old grumpy lady, hair sticking up like wires , nose wrinkled, lips on my chin.
The gray day crusts up my eyes and my shoulders slump to my hips, sliding, sinking, and I think how can my children recognize me. Gray days depress my voice and prevent my smiles and even my toes are depressed. I lay prostrate and wait for the sun.

Here is what the sun looks like:

Hello, Mommy. I am your sunshine, your only (except Benjamin, too) Sunshine, I make you happy when skies are gray!

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you...

And this little lovebug, too

Still posing as he watches Elmo

Some Mother's Day humoring of mom by sitting in silly little chairs and taking photos while staring into the sun.

He's giving me the lowdown on the proper care of goats. he's so excited about his dissertation he is drooling.

I just can't. This picture is so stinking cute. 

more stinking cuteness

His joy and delight at the crowds' joy and delight.

The accomplished grad and her littles. Plus Uncle. May is such an exciting time!

With all the of the wonderfulness in the world, it seems silly to let a little grayness get in the way. Especially since the sun has shone every day since the day I started writing about gray days. Thankful for sunny Albuquerque. Thankful for sunny babies. Thankful for husband who doesn't up and leave when I am grumpy. He has the patience of a saint. The anti-depressant is helping, and every day is a little easier. Besides, there isn't anything better than summer with little kids. Kiddie pools, road trips, long walks in the early morning, and long naps in the hot afternoons. Its going to be amazing.

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

We have reached the time of much scribbling and writing. Benjamin is ferreting out every pen, pencil, marker, and crayon we have in the house. And I think he has go-go gadget capabilities, because no matter how far back or out of reach I place the writing utensils he always seems to get them. There is a lovely abstract drawing on our fireplace screen presently. Sigh. Thank goodness for the magic eraser.

Every now and then I find myself wandering around trying to decide what to do. I never seem to remember that crayon needs to be cleaned off the fireplace or the kitchen floor or wall....

The lovely thing about this new phase is Benjamin is currently standing at his little activity table, using my pen to mark on every page of my shopping list notepad. Those things are a dollar a dozen, so I'm okay with it- and I love his intent. He chatters while he draws. He is creating, or at least imagining he is creating, a masterpiece. Or he is marking up plans for a new building, or drawing a landscaping idea. I know the picture of cartoon bunnies on the bottom of the page are significant. We have bunnies in our yard constantly. They're everywhere here on the West Mesa. On of my flowerbeds is being slowly consumed by them, and there's patches in the grass where they've nibbled away. Not to mention the rabbit pellets! We pray the boys never notice them. They look like raisins. Enough said.

Benjamin, of course, is obsessed with the rabbits. Some may recall the incident recently when he saw a rabbit through the window. He dashed outside, and became immediately heartbroken when the rabbit ran away.  Deep, choking, sobs heartbroken. Since then he chases them whenever he is free. When he's strapped down to the stroller he contents himself with saying 'hi, rabbit!' or 'rabbit, where are you? oh! there he is' as we pass by on our walks. Cracks me up.

Regardless of his affection for the little pests, the rabbits gotta go. My poor little flowers don't stand a chance if they stay. I see chicken wire in my near future...

Sunday morning/Monday evening

Let it be known that the rule of law in the Ochoa household is the later the boys stay up and the busier they are before bedtime, the EARLIER they will wake in the morning. Unbelievable. Peter came down at 12:45? Not sure. I didn't really lay down after that. I was trying to give him a drink which he rejected over and over and we both passed out with the effort of resisting each other-Peter laying on my arm splayed to my side, me propped up on pillows I wish I had moved before resting my head. My neck is killing me this morning. Then, at dawn, about 6am, Benjamin came bounding down with all his bounding energy and Peter and I, bleary-eyed and groggy from being woken from that deep morning sleep, had no choice but to become conscious or risk injury from the pointed affections of my 2 year old bulldozer. Benjamin gives kisses and then he will press his head against your head and apply pressure. I think he wants to see how hard he can push before you cry out in pain. Then he lays down perpendicular to his intended target and straightens his legs, stretching his toes so his legs are as long as possible. I dont know if his intent is to move the person he's pushing against or see if he can insert his toes into their stomach.

professional rascal. works for smoothies, goldfish, and crackers of any kind.

Ah, well. Such is life with a toddler. We've had an idyllic couple of days. The weather, late afternoon winds notwithstanding, has been perfect. This morning, when I began my ritual of sipping my coffee in the sun after watering the daisies, wildflowers and lavender plants, Benjamin came up to me and said 'Ben chair, mommy.' He pulled on my hand, trying to get me out of 'his' chair. I replied, 'no, there's Ben's chair', and I pointed to a chair in the middle of the lawn, left there the day before. It was about 3 feet away from mine. He climbed up and settled himself in with a butt wiggle. Then he sat forward put his hands on the armrests, and started talking to me. At first I couldn't understand a word he said, aside from some names. But the more I really listened, the more I discerned different words- 'going', 'school', and 'not yet' among them. Shocked my shorts off. I just stared at him in wonder, my brilliant child, as he chattered away. I asked him questions when the opportune pauses occurred. I have no idea if I was on-topic or not, but he seemed to find my responses appropriate.

Now, Benjamin talks all the time. He talks to me all the time, he talks to the tv, and he talks to his dad and brother, anyone who will listen (or look like they're listening). What killed me in this moment was the way he was postured in his chair, leaning forward, intent on our conversation. Every now and then he paused and stared off into the clouds. Then he would say something, grin, and fake laugh, complete with a 'ha ha ha' and wrinkled nose and clapping his hands and slapping his leg in glee. Whatever he said must have been hysterical.

This magic moment lasted about 10 minutes. I didn't take a picture. I didn't want to break the spell. I will never forget his serious little face, and the way his shoulders would shake when he forced himself to laugh. I half expected him to ask me for his own mug of coffee (wouldn't be the first time, come to think of it).

CousCous

We have moved on to Cous Cous. Cous Cous is, of course, Blue's Clues, in Benjamin speak. Both boys adore Steve. They aren't crazy about the other guy who replaced him. Since we got rid of cable this month, we won't be subjected to Steve replacements. The tv schedule is a little better. I turn it on in the morning so I can get my coffee and see what's up in the world.  The shows only play one at a time on our Netflix, so eventually when the boys have lost interest in the middle of the second one, the tv stays off for the rest of the morning. Benjamin has replaced the tv with his LeapPad...but he's learning stuff, so that's okay. We also end up outside in the glorious spring weather so I can water my little wildflower shoots. Unless its horrible and windy, which its been a lot recently. Then I pull out playdoh or put on Thomas, depending on how dark my mood has turned.

After waging battle after battle with Peter over where he spends his nighttime sleeping hours, winning the fight for a few nights, losing some ground with illness...we have lost the war. Yes, I admit defeat. I surrender. Apparently Peter's teething experience is so excruciating that even ibuprofen isn't working to alleviate it. The only analgesic that is effective? Mama's arms. Better yet, Mama's arms surrounded by Mama's cozy bed. I can't really blame him. Greg and I invested in a new mattress this winter, and it is THE most comfortable spot in the house. Peter's mattress purchase was less thought out...our research consisted of staring at the selection at Target and picking out the cheapest one. Sold. I have regretted that decision since Peter got a little bigger. Its really not so much a mattress as a fabric covered, thick cot. We discovered that by padding the bed with a towel under the sheet and one of the beautiful baby quilts on top for him to lie on top of, we can get a good 2-3 hour nap out of him. But it doesn't hold up all night.

Its looks like this that keep him alive.

I truly have no idea if that's the reason he won't stay in his bed. I read that somewhere and it sounded good. Especially since it could add to my mommy guilt list.  I cheaped out on his mattress. Let the internal maternal flogging begin!

In other news, and perhaps most importantly, my darling new nephew was born!!! Rory Higgins made his appearance on April 22nd after 14 hours of labor and about 20 minutes of pushing. Apparently my pint-sized sister is a hoss in disguise. Further proving how rare (read:recessive) our genepool is, Rory's father clearly won this match-up. He's just gorgeous regardless! I am one proud aunt!

Hi, little lovie, sweet baby nephew boy!!  Auntie loves you!!

Can't wait to kiss his little face!

Also went and procured the anti-depressants I so desperately wanted a few months ago. Peter and I are completely done nursing, and I have had increasingly wide mood swings, and increasingly paranoid thoughts. Here's hoping the meds help not hurt! I've taken bigger risks, the good Lord knows. The only other thing I can say is now, after listening to Peter's screaming for 25 minutes, the house is finally quiet and I am to bed. Well, I am to watching Don Draper be hot on Mad Men. Same dif.

Is Winter over yet?

Oh, man, we have had a rough winter. Good times abounded, sure. Peter learned to crawl and giggle and say 'finished' in sign language, Benjamin learned to talk in sentences and play pretend and be sneaky (He actually pretended to play with his Leapfrog Computer while all the time he HAD MY PHONE, was concealing behind the screen. Stink). Greg and I learned we are stronger partners than we knew possible, weathering illness after illness after illness. Winter didn't start last October, but that's when the corner was turned and a series of events followed that added up to, if not the most emotionally draining winter of my life, a close second. I beat down feelings of guilt over what we did to Peter's first year of life daily. We opened a daycare so that I could bring in money while still staying home with the boys. It didn't work out the way we had hoped. The boys have been sick almost constantly. I didn't make very much money because we kept having to cancel due to one of them running a fever or I was up all night with them due to puking or whatever. I have been exhausted and depressed, and Peter, poor Peter. He's just a baby who wanted his mommy, and I was constantly putting him down so that I could change someone else's poopy diaper or wipe someone else's nose or feed someone else lunch. I think I would still be nursing right now instead of having weaned him last week totally because I was so, so exhausted and it was so hard to nurse while I was chasing other toddlers.  Not to mention my emotional unavailability at times because of the depression I was beating down every day. And Peter's fifty one different illnesses his brother avoided somehow during his first year. It was not an optimal situation. And it didn't even make money.

We are regrouping now. Greg has taken a second job and to his relief I finally agreed to close the daycare. The boys and I are learning together what life looks like with the three of us on most days. There's a happy rhythm, if not completely established, then we're working on it. We miss Greg terribly. Greg and I take comfort in the fact that its not forever, just until some debt is beaten down.

In the longstanding 'mommy wars' I have been on both sides now. Let me tell you something. Cleaning up multiple diarrhea disasters while containing a 2 year old hell bent on not taking his nap, when said 2 year old starts pulling out drawers and throwing heirloom cups into his sleeping brother's crib...that's hard shit right there, no pun intended. It ain't for the fainthearted. The isolation is no joke, either. I am not alone but completely alone all day long, especially when they are sick. That said...hats off to the mommas who go to work every day. I did that, too, and it was heartwrenchingly impossible. My head was always at work when I was home, my heart was always at home when I was working. My husband was bewildered and stressed over the cranky babies while mommy was gone, and the cranky mommy when she was home.

There's no easy way to raise babies, and that's the long and short of it. Meanwhile, I will exercise my brain with this blog and reading. I will speak to my friends daily. I will NOT spend too much time on Pinterest or mom-blogs (which I guess this is? I think of it as my surviving with depression/being broke/ I need an outlet for all of these bazillion THOUGHTS blog) because mom-blogs somehow end up making me feel inadequate, with a few exceptions.

I will remember, as I told a wonderful mom-friend of mine recently, that I am the parent God intended my boys to have. That as long as I SHOW UP and follow my instincts, I am a good mother. I am a great mother. I am the best damn mother my children could possibly have.

 That said...I am fairly certain nobody else's kids watch as much tv as mine. sigh.

Triangle of Love

We've had peaks at the sun these last 10 days, only to have the outdoors snatched away again by that high desert wind. ugh!!  I read a few years ago in some hippie dippy magazine that, even though the spring may bring new high temps in the 60's and 70's, keep yourself wrapped warmly in long sleeves, pants, socks and wrap sweaters. Its great advice. Its tempting to dig out the flip-flops and skirts and shorts for the boys but the wind is FREEZING cold. It crops up every day in the afternoon, making it important to get dressed right away in the morning so I can get outside and work on my new box garden. Which is of course why I've been in my bathrobe every day I haven't had daycare kids here and my box garden continues to look like this:

Please notice the box garden pieces are still in the box. The rocks are partially moved, which is the only progress I have made in the 8 days since I bought it. sigh.

This week I re-committed to Weight Watchers. I don't think I've mentioned that I"m on Weight Watchers. Its pretty cool, I've lost 7 lbs, but the last four weeks I only lost 1 pound, I guess because you have to actually follow the points and stick to the plan in order for it to work. Whatever. Guess i'll stop making cheesy green chile enchiladas and ravioli lasagna and roast more vegetables. Yawn. The other way I re-committed (besides accepting the points as a valid way to track my food intake) is by entering a challenge to make yoga 8-15 points per weeks worth of activity points. I love love love yoga. I have been unable to do it since getting pregnant with Peter, and if I'm honest its been almost 3 years since I practiced with any regularity. My physical therapist gave me pointers on doing the yoga without hurting myself...she didn't mention others...so after I went through my PT exercises yesterday I pulled out my sticky pink mat and got down to a sloooowwww sun salutation. Have you ever tried yoga while keeping a neutral spine? Its like using a bendy straw and constantly reminding yourself not to bend the straw. Difficult and almost pointless...you can still drink out of a bendy straw thats unbent, its just really not as much fun. But it left me winded, so I think it was worth it. My favorite part of doing yoga was pushing Ben off the mat every 2 minutes and telling him Mommy was doing yoga, please don't jump on Mommy or her mat. His eyes lit up and he went careening into the kitchen yelling 'GAY-GURT!!  GAY-GURT!!' which is his toddler word for yogurt. Hilarious enough, but he did it EVERY TIME. Love this kid's optimism. Every time I said 'We don't have yogurt, honey, mommy is doing YOGA' he would run into the kitchen 'GAY-GURT! GAY-GURT!'. 'Please don't roll on mommy's mat, she's trying to do yoga' 'GAY-GURT! GAY-GURT!' so I started saying it just to get him out of my way.

I will leave you with the following series of pictures because I believe they illustrate perfectly the ongoing dynamic between Benjamin, Peter, and myself. The triangle of love, if you will. I don't have any pics of me disciplining Benjamin for hurting his brother deliberately, but if I did they would further the triangle of love by showing how after being disciplined, Benjamin wants lots of hugs and kisses and reassurances. We may be entering co-dependent behavior, but since I am becoming a proponent of Minimalist Parenting, I ain't gonna worry about it. I pay for my own therapy, they can, too, when they are all growed up and realize all the ways I messed them up.

It started with them sweetly watching Cars 2 together for a few moments, which is why I started taking the pictures. 

Don't sit on your brother don't sit on your brother don't sit on your brother! If you look closely you can see the grin as he considers his options.

P.S. I didn't mean to imply I disciplined B after this particular close call. No harm, no foul.

Emphasis

wow I am right back where i started a week ago, contemplating calling my doctor to get some antidepressants so I don't feel like this anymore. What this is, is ungrateful, crabby, anxious, angry, jealous, competitive, numb then not-numb but the aforementioned emotions all again and all at once, covetous, ugly, slothful, then abused and why is there so much to do and why do I have to do all of it. And what is my life about? What kind of positive change am I working toward in the world, shining stupid sinks and wiping baby butts (albeit adorable baby butts)? Am I wasting my life? What will I be when I grow up?

And underlying it all, tired. so tired. I try to focus on the present moment, and I feel a surge of hope and joy in my son's smile, or attempt to crawl up the stairs, or a spontaneous hug...and then I lose it. I lose the moment, I open up the laptop, I gaze at the beautiful pictures on someone's blog, coveting coveting coveting. White cabinets, a kitchen island, wait a minute I need to take out this wall and move this here and blow open this room or blow up this house because it is unliveable unliveable I cannot bear to live here ANYMORE. The kitchen is dark dark dark and I am always stuck in it. I stick myself in it. I am hiding in the kitchen I hate.

I start getting angry at my husband. He works all the time. He is never here. I can't ask him to do more than he's doing because he works literally ALL THE TIME. So the trash in the garage never gets cleaned up, he leaves me with overflowing kitchen trash to take out to add to the dump in the garage. When he is here he is always always always on his phone, always. youtubing music, facebooking, text messaging. His kids do NOT know what his face looks like unless it is facing down, gazing at the almighty ever present IPHONE. And I AM NO BETTER WITH THIS COMPUTER.

The ridiculous thing is, and those of you who know my husband know this, he is a gem. He is an absolute prince. He makes my life possible. He has some quirks that drive me nuts, but, hey, that's living with anyone. Marriage is work, our marriage is work, but on a normal day our partnership flows evenly and seamlessly I think because we choose to pay attention when the work needs doing. Truthfully, he only hides on his phone when he's tired and stressed. Truthfully, I only hide on my computer when I am tired and stressed.

The above paragraphs were written after three nights of not-great (okay non-existent) sleep. Peter is teething, Benjamin has night terrors, Greg didn't wake up the first of the three nights so I had to, and the last two nights he's been at work. Last night I gave Peter ibuprofen and opened the door wide and left the hall light on so Benjamin could find his way downstairs on his own. And I turned the monitor off. I left my door open, woke up briefly when Peter woke up, but went right back to sleep. Benjamin made his way downstairs at some point, I barely remember helping him up into bed. I discovered this morning at 8am that B had politely closed his bedroom door behind him, which may explain why Peter slept until 8 when I walked in...bet he cried awhile this morning (probably around 5am) before he gave up...oh well...

I say oh well because I can either get up and soothe and comfort and help back to sleep, or I can be present and laugh easily and play and stay on top of all the thousands of daily tasks that keep their world bright and clean and beautiful, but I can't do both anymore. Its been over 2 years since I had a regular sleep cycle. I am officially worn down.

I have been doing a lot of mulling over what I want to remember about this time in my life. What do I want to put emphasis on? I notice the memories I have taken away from different stages in my life are those that I put particular emphasis and importance on. Also, painful, I mean physically painful, memories are seared in my noggin with pretty detailed pictures and senses. Some otherwise painful memories, too. I understand that is a tool my brain has to ensure I remember the cause of the pain so I NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Frankly, a lot of those memories make me laugh now. At any rate, other memories not associated with pain are always a little blurred. But I remember them because either they brought great joy or change to my life, or I chose at the time to put emphasis on them. What do I want to emphasize about this time in my life? I tell you what. Its not the depression.

I refuse to let depression be the main focus of my babies' first years. I want to remember the way they sound, the way they laugh, what makes them laugh, what they love to do, what surprised and delighted and inspired them. I want to remember the way they wrap themselves around my neck and middle and hold on with their soft little bodies. The way they smell. The awakening of their relationship with each other as Benjamin realizes Peter is a person and likes to play, too. How if Benjamin hears Peter he says 'oh! Peter awake!' and heads for the bedroom with me to get him. Or if we're on the way out the door, Benjamin will say 'Peter, c'mon! Bye Bye!' The way Peter looks at everyone he knows and loves, with open adoration and joy, that almost toothless grin flashing to get the attention of the person its directed at, saying I am here, too! I want to play and laugh, too! Petezilla, demolishing all train tracks and roadways in his path because he's 9.5 months old and that's how he rolls.

DESTROY ALL RAILROADS! I AM PETEZILLA!

I actually didn't know this picture was going to be this good- I really thought I was just getting a sweet snuggle bunny photo. Benjamin always delivers.

We are having a preview of spring this week here in Albuquerque, with sunshine and mild breezes and perfect, perfect temperatures. We aren't done with winter yet, but I am humming 'Here comes the sun do do do do, here comes the sun and I say It's All Right'. I feel like I am waking up after a yucky dream to my amazing, beautiful life. Keep on rejecting the depression, embrace sleep, and focus on the small, infinite, fleeting gorgeousness that are the details of childhood.

I can answer some of those big questions about myself later. Right now I am going to take a nap.

Picture number 954 of Benjamin and I posed and smiling exactly like this.

Magical Mommy

This last week both the boys got sick, Benjamin just in time for his 2nd birthday on Valentine's Day, and Peter immediately after I arrived in Fort Worth, TX to visit my family. We are used to Benjamin having lots of wheezing and coughing when he gets a respiratory bug- he's had the problem since he was 6 months old and we suspect asthma. We have the tools to help him (folks with this issue will recognize the word nebulizer). I was surprised, however, to hear Peter wheezing. And concerned. I was advised not to give him a breathing treatment and didn't. We took him to the doctor the day after I drove  home by myself with two babies on a 9 hour trip. We made one long stop. That's right. My kids are rock stars, and I am the lead singer. We are road warriors of a variety never before seen in Americana. I waddled my happy ass into that McDonald's bathroom with Peter strapped to my front and Benjamin trailing by my hand. I can pee with a baby strapped to me while preventing a toddler from touching all the disgusto things. (Benjamin, don't touch that! Benjamin, wanna sing Itsy Bitsy Spider? Benjamin DO YOU WANT MOMMY TO SPANK YOU DON'T TOUCH THAT). The trick is actually a skirt and no underwear. In case you're ever in that situation and you need to know.

I had no way of knowing during this trip that Peter was actually suffering from RSV. The test came back from the doctor yesterday. The dreaded, the mythic, the very serious respiratory illness that actually causes the death of 1 to 2% of children hospitalized, around 125,000 a year. To keep this post from getting too heavy, Petey is fine and has actually handled the illness pretty well. He's still coughing a bit, and clearly doesn't feel well, but he slept a lot better last night, so that's something. Benjamin is completely recovered. Do you know who else has handled it well? Me! That's right, I've had two kids with RSV over the last 10 days, and not only did I not lose my shit completely and join the circus or loony bin or circus, I went on a road trip without my husband and only had one meltdown, and not until I got home. I powered through. I haven't slept for two weeks, I am facing weeks more of the flu/RSV/cold season, and not only did I get through it and the boys are still in one piece, I am still in one piece. And I lost three more pounds despite 10pm brownie batter goodness with my sister and good friend AM. That's the magic of Weight Watchers, and that's the magic of me. BAM. I am awesome.
And if Benjamin is going to have waffles again for dinner tonight? At least he gets dinner. We'll try for veggies again tomorrow.

Riding his new Thomas from his Aunty and Uncle- it was so awesome on my parents' hard wood floors. Our carpet? Not so much. 

Sweet sleepy face. 

BABY STRIKES BACK

I actually find it really hard to concentrate and write well when Thomas the Train is screamingly loud on the TV. But I learned this morning that if I don't have it on, and my two year old is feeling better after a week of wheezing and fevers and an ear infection, then he will get into all sorts of mischief. Mischief at our house is exploration and learning. Mischief at my parents house in Texas is expensive. Whether the cost is monetary or in my time and attention, its a pain in the A. So please excuse me if there are typos, grammatical errors, bad syntax, because in my head is an earnest little blue engine wishing he'd listened so he could be a 'really useful engine.'

Before we left for Texas, which was an adventure I'd rather not relive as it was exhausting and stressful, but worth it, Peter started crawling. A lot. Everywhere. Fast. And I started to notice some things about my sweet little Peter I had never known before. First of all, he's super curious. He is more interested in the world around him than he was before. He loves doors. He loves opening and shutting opening and shutting them. Right now, at this very moment, he has discovered my parent's tv console cabinet door...unforutnately its glass...be right back...

OKay, two hours later...Peter's new hobby, besides slamming doors open and shut, is following Benjamin around stealing his toys or knocking them down. He also likes to kick Benjamin in the head at every opportunity. The last opportunity was when they were riding in a shopping cart, Peter in an infant seat and Benjamin in the regular seat. I had to hold his foot to keep him from doing it and push the cart with my free hand alone. So every time I left the cart to get something, there his leg would swing and kick kick kick to B's head. B tolerated it admirably. Minimal yelling and screaming.

The upshot being, I am no longer worried about Peter, or his likelihood of survival in my house with all the big kids. That boy is going to be just fine.

The other thing I wanted to say was this, and I didn't say it, Glennon Melton of Momastery said it, and since she's amazing and brilliant I am not going to paraphrase. Just directly quote:

Listen to me: God said the most important thing to do down here is to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Implied in this commandment is that if you don’t love yourself, you’re useless. You cannot save anyone else. All you can do is save yourself so that those you love can see how it’s done.

Glennon Melton, Momastery

To that end, there are  some new developments in my life that include weekly yoga classes, regular afternoon breaks provided by my husband, and possibly anti-depressants. I am really stoked about all of those things. Keep you posted. 

On these rare, quiet occassions

It is a truth that if I sit down with the computer to write my blog about mental health, balance, and emotional nurturing for mothers because my house is so quiet and the boys are taking good naps...one of them will wake up. This time it is Peter. Its not his fault (clearly). I took too long to get my butt sitting down with the computer.

This is where Benjamin naps now. He started out like this:

That's right, he fell asleep watching tv. That's the only way he naps now. Judge me, go ahead. I am completely fine with it. 

So I suppose I should go get Peter. Benjamin actually just woke up as well and is on my bed with me, his head on my leg. He smells a bit so I am going to go change his diaper. 

We'll meet up later and talk about those other things I mentioned, yes? Great!

quick P.S. 

Benjamin fell back asleep on my bed! bonus nap!

Zoo Trip Story. Sort of.

Two nights ago, when my husband was on another surprise OT (its always a surprise to me when he goes, even though he signs up for them and tells me ahead of time) I stood at the computer trying to organize my thoughts for this blog and instead started reading blogs while I munched a dark chocolate bar. I was congratulating myself on my healthy desserty snack choice when I idly glanced at the nutritional information....WTF. I had just consumed about 600 calories of chocolate. ack.
 I need to hire someone to be my chocolate holder. If someone is not holding the rest of the chocolate bar away from me, I will eat it until its gone. Strangely, this only happens with dark chocolate. Milk chocolate, meh. I can take it or leave it. I guess I need to switch to milk chocolate...

I take a break from this blog to report that my 8 month old just STOOD UP. HE IS PULLING HIMSELF UP ON THE LEGO BAG. AAAAARRRRRRGGGGH. When he was born I was determined to tie his ankles together, but I got distracted by how cute his legs were when they waved around free from restraints. I was going to tie his ankles together because his brother took his first steps at 9 months. By 10 months he was walking across rooms and by 11 months he was RUNNING INTO TRAFFIC. Not really. But that's how it felt.

Anyway, we went to the zoo a couple of days ago and I decided to just let Benjamin walk while I pushed Peter around in the stroller. I really really want to tell you this story- I have been trying to write this blog for three days but Ben gave up naps so its been difficult finding the time and now Peter just woke up as I put down one of our little friends for a nap (Ben is out with dad and grandpa)
.
..fast track zoo story is Ben loved the gorillas and the chimps, and the SEALS made him start yelling something that sounded like 'let's go! let's go! let's go!' at the seals, so maybe he wanted to help them escape? Or jump in with them? I am not sure. After that I tried to get him to leave, so he immediately tried to jump into the waterfall outside the seal tank, then he tried to jump into the duck pond, then he tried to run away to the elephants (does it count as running away when he tells me where he's going?) so I switched him into the stroller with Peter sitting on the cement and carried Peter out held high against my shoulder so my back wouldn't twinge.



Coming soon...WWAMD???  AM is a very good friend of my family's...she's this huge fan of the McKenzie sisters, which is hilarious to us, because we are huge fans of hers. She recently taught me about pumping breastmilk while driving. She is hilarious, kind, hard working, and a wonderful mother. My new mantra in dealing with my daily frustrations is WWAMD? What would AM do? Because it usually involves laughing.


Question: do I negate this poopless blog entry by pointing out that its the 2nd blog entry in a row without poop featuring? Its my blog, I decide nay, and celebrate!

Pictures next time! maybe! baby calling! muah! (that's kissing off instead signing off in case you were wondering)

and in other news...

Please Please Please leave comments and feedback for me on my Facebook if you can't do it on this page. You can leave comments for me if you are on a computer- but not by smartphone, which is really stupid in my opinion.  I am trying to resolve the issue, but not having any luck thus far.

In other news...Coming to a webpage near you, Momology! Elizabeth Schichtel and I are taking her amazing creations from Cheeky Bunz Diapers and adding new, original, and beautiful handmade cuddly baby things to a line of mama products and luxuries. Check out Liz's CheekyBunzdiapers.com, her Etsy shop of the same name, and please like her on Facebook!  She is so so talented, and I am really stoked about the opportunity to create for a living while learning from a master seamstress.

In other news...The other night  I watched Benjamin play until he dropped, exhausted, on his uncle's lap. Peter went to bed at 7, but then woke up at ten and rejoined the party. They were both up at 7am. I don't understand how this works. It is a truth about babies and young children that however late they stay up and however rough a night they have, they will be bright eyed and bushy tailed at least 2 hours before you are ready to drag your butt out of bed. I have yet to meet the toddler that isn't a morning person. While its maddening and exhausting, there's a certain beauty to it. Every day, regardless of how the night before went, Benjamin and Peter are excited to greet us and the day. Eager to reconnect with their world, they walk around the house smiling at their toys, their milk cup, their tv program, their high chair, their parents. They fuss at getting their diapers changed as if to say 'hurry UP I have LIFE to live and WONDERS to explore and you are holding me UP!'

Meanwhile, after they are changed, fed, and my coffee is ready, I curl up on the floor in my bathrobe, watching a Golden Girls marathon, clutching my coffee mug and wondering if I'd had too much wine the night before. The boys played, oblivious to my discomfort of course, and we had a really pleasant morning followed by more vegging during the Super Bowl. The game was pretty exciting, but I wasn't uber impressed by the commercials. Let's face it, I really didn't get to watch it. Oh well.

Benjamin just walked up to me and started singing 'I will Wait I will wait for you'. Shout out to Mumford and Sons.

If you check out my Facebook page you can see Benjamin singing for yourself- Not sure when this became the new song around my house, but my little guy has some strong music preferences!

Moo Cow

Cup of coffee, check. 

Oh, oops, that's not coffee!  

Just kidding. That's my wine from a few nights ago. The lovely thing about my Iphone is I can share a drink with friends without actually going out and joining them. That is usually the only option, lately. Peter is not a fan of me leaving the house without him. This is Peter:

He's even that cute without the cool Jack the Pumpkin King hat. He's my cling-on, my constant companion. He's 8 months old and the second sweetest person I've ever met, the first being my husband. I think Peter gets all his greatest qualities from his dad.
Anyway, thank goodness for my husband's family, I would never see the public sphere sans baby without them. Husband doesn't even like staying with him for too long. One of the great Daddy-inherited qualities Peter possesses is obsessiveness. I meant to say persistence. When Peter decides its been too long since he's seen me (more accurately, my boobs) he starts to whine, then cry, then he gets dramatic. He actually growls sometimes. Wouldn't know it by looking at him, would ya? So we've been practicing leaving him with various family members so that I can get out and explore my identity as more than moo cow. He does enjoy holding his own sippy cup, as long as its filled with mama milk. This requires me being hooked up to the breast pump for up to an hour a day at different times, which I HATE because I really can do very little else while I am being milked like Bessie for the morning cream.  No formula for this kid. He wants the homemade stuff. This is in direct contrast to his solid food preference. He can't stand the baby food I make, he only wants the jar kind. I can't blame him, really. My baby food making skills are not great. I choose to blame the lack of fancy, over-priced tools. So, really, we are saving money by buying the jarred stuff. HA!

The question of identity and mommy breaks is a big one in our house lately, and a big one in my circle of women. One of the wisest things I ever heard a mama-to-be say was 'I am ready for it to not be about me for awhile'. I knew, with my 7 months pregnant belly and 13 month old toddler as evident experience, that she was without doubt ready to be a mother. When you have little bitty ones, it just can't be about you. They need too much from us. It is my happy job to provide lots of kisses and fun activities in addition to fulfilling their physical needs. I am so fortunate to be a fulltime stay at home mom, part-time daycare provider for other bitty ones, because I get the most kisses and snuggles.

There are drawbacks, though.  If you don't have a job outside of the home and other (adult) people regularly interacting with you, it can start to seem like you are merely a vessel, no longer a person with personal needs, wants, interests. You are the gadget that provides the milk, the food, the toy-reacher, the diaper-changer, the gate-opener, the nose-wiper. Children, especially those under 5, do not care about your agenda or your needs. And, really and truly, they aren't SUPPOSED TO.
I have to say that again. They do NOT CARE. They do not care if you are an artist, a singer (although they like it when you sing at full volume, especially selections from Les Mis and sometimes The King and I. Maybe that's just my kids), they do not care if you are trying to start a business or if you are a writer (ha! sorry I had to laugh at myself with that one) or if you haven't had a break or sleep for 4 days. They are not supposed to care. They are supposed to grow and learn and develop and PLAY. And your job, your MOST IMPORTANT JOB is to provide that opportunity for them. You OWE THEM THAT BEST CHANCE. When they are bigger they will owe you bathroom cleaning, lawn mowing, back rubs, possibly credit in 'who's your hero?' school essays. But now, when they are little, they deserve this time to get their best start, their best chance at being their best selves.
So, if you will excuse me, I have to go play Moo Cow and hook myself  up to the breast pump so that my youngest, my Peter, my cling-on lovie, can practice with his sippy cup.

TRAPPED!!!

This morning we had a poo-splosion. Mommies will recognize this as the times when the poop overtakes the diaper and spreads down the leg. My two year old doesn't care if he is covered in uck, so he makes an even bigger mess by continuing to play as though everything is fine. So, into the bath he goes. He had a blast.

Sometimes, motherhood can make you feel trapped. Need to go to the store? The baby is sleeping. Or sick. Or ornery and you cannot imagine having to get through an entire store with the whining and the fits. Or the poopy explosions keep happening over and over and over and you can't even get out of your bathrobe, much less out the door. Planning a road trip with two kids in diapers and one nursing becomes an exercise in strategic preplanning. (okay, if I get up at 4:30am and pump, he can hold his sippy cup for his morning feed, and then they should nap, and if I have to change a poopy diaper I can pull way over to the side of the road, if I need to pee and they're sleeping I will just have to hold it until I die...). Its marginally easier when Husband is going along. I remember the good old days when, if I felt like taking off for a few days, and work wasn't in the way, I would. I would drive for hours for a one day visit. Now, it has to be REALLY WORTH IT. I bring this up because my sister is moving to Korea (which is pretty weird because I have another sister who already moved to Korea and my mom is there now with first Korean resident sister) and I think I am going to drive down to Texas with the boys to spend a few days with her. But Husband can't go. Am I crazy? Probably. Bring it on.

So, the trapped feeling. It may seem counterintuitive, but if I stop trying to escape, the trapped feeling goes away. Okay, that isn't counterintuitive at all, that completely makes sense. Give in to your jailers and resign yourself to your years in the Bastille and the time is smoother, quieter, more content. I am totally kidding, I don't actually feel like I am in jail. I distracted myself with the jail metaphor.

What I mean to say is this:  My best days with the boys are the days when I show up. Not when I turn on the TV, not when I hide in the corner of the kitchen with the computer, not when I carry my phone all over the house with me and obsessively check my email and Facebook (I actually deleted the app to try to stop doing this, and now I just use Safari. Damn the convenience!!). The days that I leave my phone where I can hear it but can't reach it, the days the computer stays shut while they are awake (unless its time to Gangnam Style. That's different. More on that another time) the days the TV is only on when I need 20 minutes to get a meal prepared...Those are the amazing days. This morning, Benjamin was getting into his 'blue chair' (blue hand-me-down highchair). I went to give him a hands up as usual and he yelled 'no! no hands!' It took me a moment to realize he wanted to get into the chair unassisted, thank you very much. That was the first time he's refused my help. I was very taken aback- and know we are now entering a new phase, the part where he slowly but surely starts to pull away, claiming his own body and will and life direction. I know intellectually that this started happening the moment he showed interest in something other than nursing...but it still feels like a milestone. I have looked at him more closely since that moment this morning, trying to find my baby in the little boy. We built with blocks for about an hour, and he was overjoyed at the quiet mommy-Benjamin time. I was overjoyed, too. In a quiet, content kind of way.

Creating Momology

The suffix -logy means 'study of'. I am starting this blog because I have learned over the last two years of being a mom that it is an ongoing study, there are no hard-fast rules to follow, and the stories and musings of other bloggers has been sanity saving since I discovered all of you out there. We need to share with each other, and be there for each other, desperately. Plus, the word 'momology' is just cool, and I couldn't convince my partner in crime, I mean business, to let us use it for our baby swag venture.

Meanwhile, as I write this, I have had to change two poopy diapers (on the same kid) one regular diaper, feed two babies breakfast, pump breastmilk, and now I have my 2 year old begging to go play with his choo choo upstairs. I have to open the gate to let him upstairs. Very easy to do. But I also have to go lock the baby's room so that 2 year old doesn't go in there and crawl into the bed with the 8 month old. When this first happened, my husband and I said 'aw! how sweet! he wants to sleep with his brother!' and envisioned the lifetime relationship/bond developing between them- the two Ochoa boys against the world, running and flipping through life together like some sort of cloned Jackie Chans, never letting the other fall off the wall. I don't know why they are jumping onto walls. Insert tasteless Mexican joke here. I digress.

That feeling of sweetness and bonding (which was only experienced by us, I am sure) was shattered when, one day, when they were supposed to be napping, I ran upstairs when the sleeping baby started hard crying (you know the kind I mean) and I found 2 year old Benjamin jumping on the baby. Yeah. Fuzzy feeling gone. Thank goodness Benjamin is skinny and the mattress gives a lot.

Now I feel I must insert apologetic and defensive words about how Benjamin is a totally normal 2 year old (he's not quite 2 yet, but he is in the way that all of his skills are 2, so he's 2.) He loves his brother in that 'let me hug you now let me ignore you and accidentally on purpose sit on you' way that is typical of his age. He's a sweetie head, especially when he wants something. His baby brother worships him. I know this probably equals big trouble in a few years. Benjamin loves to sing, loves to hug, loves to have conversations about 'who is this? what is this? where is that?' and play with messy things. He still kisses with his mouth wide open, like a baby. When he was one year old he became enamored of a Russian Opera singer and walked around the house imitating the movements and vocalizing he saw on YouTube- on key. Extremely entertaining kid. I adore him. He made me a mother. He changed me on a cellular level. Literally.

Right now I can hear him grunting next to his train table. Sigh. Third poopy diaper. Then laundry, then maybe I will get to shower before I go off to enjoy my Sunday. This is how this blog will be- Starting with one topic, and moving around as I am distracted and pulled (by the hand, by Benjamin) in different directions. Mostly I hope it helps me focus on the important things while I navigate through mommyhood. I hope it reminds me to laugh at all the ridiculously cool things my kids come up with. I hope it reminds you to laugh, too.