Not what I signed up for

Yesterday morning was NOT my finest hour.  On Monday my daycare provider was sick, so munchkin girl spent the day traipsing about the nearest large shopping city with my parents.  I was/am totally fine with this.  However, she did not get a nap.  Given the same set of circumstances with me around, the same lack of nap would have occurred.  That night she woke up from a "bad dream".  I should have recognized the portent of things to come. 

The following morning, when she finally woke up, nearly 2 hours later than her usual time, she had ZERO interest in getting ready and leaving the house.  She repeatedly asked if we could stay home and snuggle in the chair.  I can promise you that there's nothing I would have liked better. But, someone has to make the donuts.

At this point I began a process that I had never before had to undertake. I physically hauled my child from the bathroom into the living room to get her dressed.  I held her down, or at least parts of her, while I removed her Pull Up, put on her underwear and shorts, took off her pajama top, put on her tank top, and foolishly attempted to get her shoes on.  A kick from a 4-year-old can be very painful.

Then I began the process of getting her in the car.  This involved an action that I can only describe as similar to trying to keep a cat in the bathtub. Eventually I did manage to get her in the car with her screaming bloody murder all the way. She cried and screamed most of the way to daycare. And the screaming began again when we pulled into the driveway.

I got to try to fend off blows while unbuckling her and getting her out of the car. Then I had to pick her up and carry her into the house.

Once I was on my way to work I lost it. I began sobbing and grabbed my phone. While I know it's not a wise idea to even talk on your cell phone while driving, let alone while visually impaired from crying, I needed reinforcements.  I called my parents and begged them to tell me I'd done the right thing. I felt absolutely horrible because the one thing she wanted was within my power to provide. However, this was an opportunity to teach her about obligations.

I assume this was all brought on by lack of sleep and her trying to adjust to me working a 40 hour week after nearly a year of working 11-5.  The poor thing has had a difficult time trying to adjust. 

My parents said all the right things, including, "Pull the car over before you crash." But I swear to you, the one thing I could not do that day was take my mind off the feeling that all she wanted was some time with me and I didn't give it to her.  I want it to be very clear; SINGLE PARENTING IS NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR. Say all you want that I'm strong. That you couldn't do what I do. That you would give up. But the truth of it is, I feel like I did. I feel like I gave up on reasoning with her just so that I could move on with my day. I put her needs aside to deal with my own.  I feel like a bad mother.  I feel like they'll be calling me to take away my mommy card. Part of me really does know that I'm a good mother, but this emotional outburst absolutely broke my heart.  It won't be too long and she won't want to snuggle any more.  I know I did the right thing in teaching her a lesson that she'll someday understand. But how do I tell my heart that?

When it saves you

A friend said to me, "I can't believe you kept your faith through all the hell you must have gone through. I admire that." I told him, "You can't be angry at something you don't believe in." (Thanks for that one, Aggie.)

And it's true. I can't very well be mad at God for taking my husband away from me if I don't believe in Him. But as I was thinking about this conversation this morning, I came to an interesting conclusion. I wasn't talking about believing in God. Although I do believe in Him, it would be more appropriate to say that during that conversation I was saying I believe in Love.

For so long after the hubby died I was angry. The kind of anger that sucks what's left of your life out of you and makes you worthless for anything but rage. I was most angry with the hubby. HE was the one that didn't eat right. HE was the one that smoked constantly. HE was the one that didn't exercise. HE was the one that didn't care enough about us to stay. (I never said anger was rational, did I?)

But I loved him. And I know this is true because it would be impossible to be so angry with someone you didn't love. I also know that his love saved me.

The hubby walked into my life at a time when I was living in a loveless, abusive marriage. My self-esteem was at an all-time low and I was certain that nothing I did was right, let alone worthwhile. And this man, this great big bear of a man, walked into my life and gave me the courage to leave that situation. He showed me that despite what my ex-husband was telling me, there were people in this world that would love me for who I am. People who wouldn't put restrictions on that love.

I'll say it again, I did not leave my ex-husband to marry my hubby. It just turned out that way. And that's how his love saved me. It gave me options I didn't know existed. And because he loved me so much I'm able to continue on each day.

His love saves me every moment in the form of a beautiful little girl that we made together. She's laying on the couch right now, playing with her legs, and asking me what I'm doing. And pretty soon, she'll tell me that she loves me. I'm saved all over again. Every night when she hugs my neck and tells me she loves me before going to bed. Every morning when she curls up next to me in bed and nearly suffocates me in her hug. Every time she looks at me and shows me that grin that can only have come from one place: her father. I'm saved all over again.

My parents have been behind me 100% for the last 19 months. They make sure that I have what I need and even the things I don't need but just want. They take this task of parenting seriously. They show me they love me every day. And their love saves me.

I have friends that show me how much they love me and they save me too. You all know who you are. And I hope you also know where I couldn't have gotten without you. You're amazing people and you make all the difference in my life.

Yes, love saves. And it comes when and where you least expect it. It would seem to me, though, that it always comes when it's most needed.

Let me just tell you...

The week of January 18-24th was a difficult one at my house. Shall we run down the list?

On Tuesday I did some checking. Apparently, I make too much money to adequately care for my child, but yet I don't make enough to adequately care for her. Even if I weren't working right now, because of the money that we receive from Ron's Social Security income, we are over the income limit for Medicaid. For me, this isn't such a tragedy. I can take decent care of myself on my own. But for the munchkin, healthcare would be so welcome. And that's a hard pill to swallow. Once I get bills paid off I'll be able to put aside enough money that if either of us needs to go to the doctor, it won't break us. And I'm also in the process of looking for a job that offers medical benefits. So all is not lost. But, I guess, I was really hoping that we could get some help.

Wednesday we were having rotten weather around here. Bitterly cold, high winds, freezing rain, blowing snow, etc. Because my daycare is out of town I asked my parents to go pick up the munchkin. When I wasn't a single mother the weather didn't seem so much of an issue. But, things are what they are now, and so I deal with it the best way I know how. Maybe I'll move to some warmer climate.

Thursday was my wedding anniversary. The stress of the event was enough for me, but not sleeping well for several days ahead of time made me a basket case. In order to not be alone that evening, I invited all the girls over for Stitch and Bitch. I made some great dips and a chocolate cake. It wouldn't have been a day to remember Ron without chocolate cake.

But Friday was the real kicker. In the last few weeks both my parents and I had noticed that the munchkin was squinting and closing her left eye when looking at things close up. I was of a mind to believe it was just something she "did". However, Mom chose to freak me out by googling the information and finding that it could be lazy eye or any other myriad problems. Did I have the money to take her to the optometrist? HECK NO! Bless Mom and Dad, they made it happen. So, Friday Morning at 8:15 we showed up for an eye appointment for a (nearly) 4-year-old.

First they took us into a side room where they did some measurements and tests to see if she could tell which animal "popped off the page". She did OK, but was much more interested in telling us about the animals than which one looked different. Then, they pulled out the book with pictures designed to test whether or not she was color blind. The woman asked her to trace the numbers, and the munchkin is not overly familiar with the concept of tracing. She shocked us all a bit when I asked her if she could see a number in the picture and she piped right up to say, "Oh, the 7?"

In the end, the optometrist determined that she has a "significant" prescription necessary in both eyes. She wouldn't even cover her good eye with the paddle in order to test the strength of the weak eye. Don't ask me how, but they did get a good look at both eyes and determined that she not only needs glasses but should also do some work at home while wearing a patch in order to strengthen the weak eye.

The optometrist also commented that children will often greatly change their behavior greatly upon beginning to wear glasses. They feel more secure in their world once they can see better. I'm hoping that this will be true in our situation as she can be difficult to deal with at times.

However, the munchkin did love trying on glasses. After all, Mommy and Nana wear glasses all the time anyway. So now she'll be just like us. We chose an extremely cute pair of pink glasses with bright green butterflies on the ear pieces. She's been asking when she can wear her glasses. I'm hoping they'll be in today or tomorrow at the latest.

It was a week certain to make the strongest of people feel a bit overwhelmed. But, now it's over and I feel like I can again take some time to breathe.

The lesson in all of this is that I have to learn to slow down. I need to realize that everything will work out in the end. One way or another, she and I will make it through all of this and be stronger because of it. Currently, I can't say I'm feeling all that strong, but I'll get there.

Strength isn't something that you either have or don't. Certainly some people are emotionally stronger than others. Am I one? All I know is what I've told many of my friends. I'm only a woman playing the hand she's been dealt. I have no other choice. Sure, I want to throw my hands in the air and just go back to bed. But that doesn't accomplish anything. And it's not what Ron would have wanted for us either. He taught me a lot. And now, I have to teach the munchkin those same lessons.

Little miracles

It's the little things that help me keep going. Seen after the munchkin's bath. It's an imprint of her little foot. So cute.

Knock knock

While shopping in Wal-Mart yesterday the munchkin girl made me laugh right out loud. She was sitting in the cart and said, "Knock knock." And before I could ask, "Who's there?" she said, "Who's there? IT'S ME!" Sometimes I worry that she's smarter than I am! :)

Famous last words

Yesterday I read this post on my friend Carrie's blog. And I remember thinking, "I am so glad we're past needing to take a change of clothing everywhere." What's that they say about pride going before a fall?

Mom, Dad, munchkin, and I went to Perkins tonight to enjoy a late dinner. I could tell something was trying to happen in the munchkin's diaper, but every time I checked, nothing had materialized. However, near the end of our meal, it did. On the way to the bathroom my dad noticed that munchkin was going to need a clean pair of pants. Of course, I didn't have any. So, to skip all the messiness (literally and figuratively), she came home wearing a shirt, a diaper, and her shoes.

Welcome to my nightmare. Jump in. The water is warm.

Kind of makes me want to use a brillo pad on my hands!

Mortality

My grandfather is dying. People keep telling us the end is near and they're surprised he lasted through last night.

I'm torn.

I love my grandfather dearly and want him around, but how much more can I/we ask from a 95-year-old man? He's seen so much, been so many places, and has had experiences worthy of writing about.

As is typical when you are faced with losing someone you love, I'm beginning to think about my own mortality.

This discussion would have been something entirely different three years ago. At that point I had only just begun a relationship with the wonderful man I am lucky enough to call my husband. That relationship was nothing like it is today. There were so many similarities. We were passionate, we were deeply in love, and we shared the same dreams. All of those are the same today. However, what isn't the same is how we loved each other. Sure, we loved each other and everything that the other stood for. Today, that love is greater and deeper than anything I could have imagined. Every day he provides me with more of what I need. He's there every step of the way.

Then, there's the munchkin. She's my reason for moving forward every day. I knew that being a mother would involve unconditional love. What I didn't know was how deeply I would be affected by that. Every decision I make is based on what's the best for my girl. No longer is it important that I get my nails done or color my hair. Now it's about Pops (see another forthcoming post for more information) and chicken fries. And I love it.

I'm mortal. Any morning could be my last. On my thirtieth birthday and in the days leading up to it, I questioned where I was in my life. I'm still questioning. But in the face of losing my grandfather, I find that I know I'm on the right road. I'm building a family and a lifetime's worth of memories. If I died tomorrow, what would be my legacy?

I guess the best I can say is that I couldn't be happier to have Wife, Mother, and Pop provider on my headstone.

Little ones

Munchkin has a book of pictures with the name of each item by each one. The other day she called out, "HAIR DRYER!"

When I asked her what the hair dryer "did" she circled her hand around and made a noise somewhere between a growel and a boat motor.

It doesn't get much better than that!

Ears and nose

I was still concerned about the munchkin girl's nose this morning, so I called for a doctor's appointment. Got her in this afternoon. Turns out that since we last saw the doctor, what was a cold has turned into a sinus infection and a slight ear infection in one ear.

This is why you listen to mother's intuition even when the "professionals" tell you that it's just a cold. I gave it the obligatory two weeks to clear up. When it didn't, I took matters into my own hands. She's got two BIG bottles of amoxicillin. 1 and 3/4 teaspoons twice a day. If that doesn't knock it out of the park, I'm not sure what will.

Here's to pink bubblegum flavoring. How many of you remember this stuff? :)

Animal names

Out of the mouths of babes. Sometimes they say things that just really surprise you. Mom and I were giving the munchkin girl a bath Monday night. She's got a set of farm animals that stick to the tub when wet. She was telling me what each animal was and what it said. All systems were go and all responses were normal until...

*me holding up the pig* "What's this?"

*munchkin girl without a moment's hesitation*

"ROGER!"

I don't know that I've laughed that hard in a long time. Good thing she's so cute or she might be out of the will!

Of scraped knees and band-aids

Took the munchkin into the store with me today. On the way in, she lost her grip on my hand and fell, on both knees, onto the parking lot asphalt. She scraped both knees enough to bleed. Instead of just getting my stuff, we had to go in the bathroom and clean up the knees. But, on the up side, we got to buy Sesame Street band-aids. She's a toughie. She's grinning and running around like the nutjob that she is. I just want to fix it though.

Little Miss Two

We are deep within the throes of the terrible twos. Suddenly, EVERYTHING has become SO dramatic.

It used to be that I would drop her off at daycare and have to beg for kisses. Now, she practically climbs my body in an attempt to keep me from leaving.

In the past, if she was upset, the magic word was B-A-T-H. Now, you almost have to beg her to go with you into the bathroom.

Want her to get ready to go for the day? You have to trick her into her coat and shoes.

Don't allow her to have something she wants...She makes it known that she feels the world is coming to an end.

I don't like this. I don't like it at all.

I always dreamed that I would raise a fully independent child who needed me very little. It's not that I don't want her to need me. As a matter of fact, at 5 o'clock this morning, when she was sitting in the chair with me, wrapped her arms around me, and said, "Snuggle, Mommy, snuggle," I was quite certain that I never wanted her to decide she didn't need me. I guess teaching her that I'll always be there is part of her becoming independent.

Sometimes you just know

Ever have one of those odd feelings with your children where you just know that something's not quite right. Mother's Intuition, I salute thee. I had just such a feeling yesterday morning. Without any provocation from daycare, I called and made her a doctor's appointment. She'd been congested all weekend and sleeping more than normal.

Ear infection. One ear, possibly both. Antibiotics can be a wonderful thing. I'm told that this winter will be a telling one for us. If the ear infections continue, we may be looking at tubes. Not quite sure what to think about that.