Mom Has Eyes in the Back of Her Head

When I gave birth, along with two kids and a bladder problem I also got MOMMY POWERS. It is amazing. You know that saying "mom has eyes in the back of her head"? She really does along with a few other special abilities...

1. The ability to notice the most random object (like a barbie shoe or piece of string) an hour before someone is looking for it.

2. Can sense disaster moments before it strikes

3. Knows where EVERYTHING is. (You have to be careful with this superpower because if used too often family will become lazy and stop looking for things themselves).

4. Gets an iron stomach. NOTHING will gross mom out.

5. Can "hear" trouble...especially when it's being too quite.

Anybody get these powers too? How about other magical abilities that came along with having kids?

I Let Them Eat Dirt

What is it about kids and their vegetables? Do they naturally hate them or is it some self fulfilling prophecy where we automatically expect them to not want the veggies so were start off being aggressive about it, which is what is putting them off? Miss B actually likes vegetables, just not on her plate. She will come snatch a piece of a carrot or broccoli from the cutting board, but if it's on her plate she "doesn't yike dat." Her favorite way to eat her veggies, though, it covered in dirt right from the ground. Even before we had kids my husband and I gardened. I think he wants to be a farmer when he grows up, because every year he adds more and more. Our garden is actually one thing I'm really proud of. Miss B gets a kick out of helping her daddy too. I've always heard that if you show kids where healthy foods come from, they will want to eat them. I guess that's kind of true. But hey, if it gets them eating the good stuff, I don't care if it has a little dirt on it.

Embarrassing Mommy in Public

I love it when I ask my husband to stop at the grocery store on his way home because we only need one or two things and he's all "why didn't you go today?" Ummm, excuse me? I'm not taking these kids out on my own unless the pantry is bare and they're gnawing on the dog bone. I sure will eat oyster crackers for lunch to avoid a trip to the grocery store. And anywhere without baskets is definitely out. Inevitably, Miss B. will fight me about either riding in a cart, or not getting some ridiculously priced toy that she will loose and or/break before we get to the checkout line. Anytime I see a child having a public tantrum I am reminded of when Miss B. was like two and half and I took her with me to the tag renewal office. First let me explain that she has this weird desire to sit in every chair or bench she sees. I don't know why. Well we were in line, and clear across the room was one lone little wooden chair, that I was praying she wouldn't notice. The place was pretty crowded of course because it was the end of the month and everyone was renewing their tags. Sure enough, she spotted the chair and started pulling on my arm. I wasn't about to let her go over there, so I crouch down and start whispering furiously in her ear. You know, making threats you know you can't keep in public. She didn't care. She started screaming and crying. What made things worse was the little girl in line behind us about the same age who was of course behaving herself perfectly. Everyone is staring at us. Finally, the clerk behind the desk had me cut in line in front of about fifteen other people. I was sooo embarrassed. I have never taken her back there.

      It's funny too when we are someplace and she sees someone's kid misbehaving. She's all "mommy WHY is that girl acting like that?" she usually says it loud enough for the other parent to hear too. I get secret joy out of other kid's tantrums, though, because it makes me feel better about mine. Having children has made me sorry for every judgement I ever passed before I was a parent.

The Choice of Two

I was never sure if I would be a Mother or not. It wasn't something I was against, but neither did I feel like my life would be missing something if I didn't have any children. One thing I was sure of was that if I had one I would have at least a second one if I could. I have three sisters, and I think siblings are important. It's especially something I realize as an adult watching my husband (he's only has one half brother who is severely mentally disabled) deal with the realities of having an ageing father all on his own. When the time comes to take care of our parents, my sisters and I will have each other. I decided that two was enough. After the birth of my son I had my tubes tied. I'm surprised at how surprised other people are about this. I'm mean, have you seen how much kids cost these days? My mom, who is one of seven, was especially disappointed. My other reason for making this choice was the undeniable fact that I don't do pregnant well. My younger sister and I had are kids pretty close together. Her daughter is three months older than mine, and her son is six months older than mine. It would be great if they didn't live twelve hours away. When we were pregnant together the first time, I hated her. This is not an overstatement. She was one of those chipper pregnant women that make the rest of us look bad...like being fat and sick doesn't do enough of that already. She only gained weight in her stomach, getting that cute bump. She wore her regular clothes until she was like eight months. I got pregnant all over. I didn't swell
alot, but simple got wide. Everywhere. My butt, my feet, my face even seemed to get wider. She was never sick. I never stopped being sick. I remember one particularly pleasant day while she was cheerfully telling me about her recent cravings for McDonald's french fries, I was pulled over in a McDonald's parking lot right across from the drive thru speaker throwing up. People in line got to order their lunch to the sounds of me losing mine. She went into labor all on her own and had a fairly quick first time birth - I think it was only like six hours - and she pushed out her baby medication free. At 37 weeks I had to be induced for pre-eclampsia, and after twelve hours of labor that went no-where they told me my daughter's head was swelling and rushed me off to an emergency c-section. They cut me open and the doctor said "would you look at that!" Not her head. Her butt. She was breech and they didn't know. Her but was stuck in the birth canal. So I was secretly thrilled when with her second she had a bad case of morning sickness. Okay not so secretly. I gloated a little. Alot. I was mean to her, but karma really is a bitch because minutes after I saw two lines on the sick I threw up and didn't stop until after he was born. Her second pregnancy went by, with her getting over her sickness by the fourth month. When her time came she literally went to the hospital crowning. At nine weeks I had a tear in the placenta that caused heavy bleeding and I was put on bed rest. At 37 weeks, on a Tuesday, I started having frequent painful contractions. I went to the hospital and I was dilated 4cm. Twelve hours later they sent me home because my contractions were no longer regular and I wasn't dilating. This went on for DAYS. I would have a burst of regular contractions that lasted for hours, then they would subside. Then on Friday in the middle of the night my mucus plug came out and I began having really intense contractions. An hour later the pain was so intense I couldn't sit down. I get to the hospital, just sure I was about to have this baby (I was going for a VBAC), they get me in the triage/observation room (which is the size of a closet), and tell me I'm only 4.5cm dilated. What's more is that since I'm still in my 37th weeks, they cannot do anything to further my labor. They can't give me PIT or break my water. Even better is that they did a quick ultrasound to make sure this one wasn't breech and they discovered that while he was head down, he was face up, and I was experiencing what's called "back labor"...they should find a way to simulate this and use is to torture terrorists. They couldn't give me and epidural either, because I wasn't officially admitted. I was still in "observation." I stayed in that closet in the worst pain of my life - they gave me morphine, which I would equate to taking aspirin after getting hit by a car - for six hours. They checked me ever thirty minutes and I stayed 4.5cm dilated for 5.5 hours. In the last half hour I dilated from 4.5 to 7cm. I got a room, and then shortly after the epidural. They took the needle out of my back, laid me down, and my blood pressure bottomed out and my heart started racing. It took them twenty minutes to get me stable. An hour later my son was born via a successful VBAC.

      So it was an easy decision for me to stop at two. My sister says she's not having anymore either, but I don't believe her. She didn't have her tubes tied, and she likes being pregnant.

Living With Myself

My daughter is a miniature version of me. She looks just like me, and I'm really noticing that she acts just like me too. I wonder though, if this is nature or nurture? I mean, was she born this way, or did I make her this way? Especially with the crazy OCD tendencies. She organizes her crayons by how "used" they are. Also, she won't wipe herself after she pees until she folds the toilet paper neatly. (I didn't teach her that). All I can say is I hope my son is more like his father. He is super laid back and takes things as they come. It really helps having him around to reign in my crazy. Now I know what it's like to live with me! Poor man!

If You Had the Whole Day To Yourself...

Mother's day is just around the corner, and my husband asked me last night if there was anything special I wanted. You've reached a special place in your life when your deepest desire is to be all by yourself. I fantasized about sitting at Panera Bread with a coffee and a cinnamon crunch bagel and a good book - without pictures. I think longingly of sitting down somewhere with a glass (bottle) of wine and not have to get up to help anybody with anything until it's gone. Could I possibly go to the bathroom by myself? With the door closed? I know, dream big right!. I know that despite his best intentions, none of this will happen. For one thing, I'm limited to two hours because Dimples still nurses pretty frequently. I'll probably get a card, maybe flowers, and I'm pretty sure he'll cook dinner, which is nice too. But a girl can dream.

The Second Child

My husband's Grandmother died, and while we were at the viewing, his Aunt asked if she could hold Dimples. She was hacking and coughing, but had previously apologized, explaining that she was having asthma problems triggered by the stress of the funeral. So, I didn't think twice about handing my son over to her. I even used the opportunity to take a bathroom break, grab a cookie, and say hello to some people I hadn't seen in a while. It got me thinking about the differences between the first child and the second child.

First Child: anyone who wants to hold them has to undergo a full medical work up, wash their hands, change their clothes, and you follow them around nervously ready at any moment to catch the baby that you just know they will drop.

Second Child: Someone wants to hold the baby? Absolutely! In fact, they  can keep them for a couple of hours while you get things done! In fact, do they want to hold the baby the rest of the day? They're a little dirty? No big deal, a little dirt never hurt anybody.

First Child: Very limited TV time. Only educational shows, with no commercials.

Second child: Oh look! He likes Sponge Bob! Let him watch it if it will keep him occupied long enough for me to take a shower!

First Child: a closet full of cute clothes. Even a little dirt on and outfit requires a change, especially if someone is coming over or we are going somewhere.

Second child: mostly own hand me downs - even if it was intended for one gender, but could maybe pass for the other. Will wear the same outfit for a couple of days, especially as a little baby. If the diaper leaks a little, and it's only pee...it will dry.

So does the second child get the short stick when it comes to parents? I say nah. While they may not get stuff as nice as their older siblings, they get the benefit of having more relaxed parents.