(Sorry everyone, this week's post is a bit choppy. I spent over six hours Wednesday night pouring my heart and soul into my entry only to have it lost forever when I hit the "Publish" button and had a computer freeze up. Apparently, the continuous save function was also having issues that evening. I have tried my hardest to replicate what I first wrote. But blogging seems to run true with all other aspects of my creative life--my first draft is almost always the best and only draft. Oh well, perhaps my first attempt would have been too much to read and too much to handle, so I have pieced it together as best I could from memory to catch you all up on the last week. But those feelings and emotions have passed, and I can't seem to put it all together nearly as eloquently as I had before. It is most likely because I have moved on from that moment--and I am glad to put it all behind me.)
This week was challenging to put it lightly. Readers beware, this is not going to be my peachy king normal--happy-go-lucky entry. It seems a bit ironic now, but just one week ago today I was talking with one of my best friends, Cary, and she was asking how I was doing. She is also a Marine wife who knows the true hardships of a deployment, herself having dealt with her hubby being gone much more than any of us deserve (not that we really deserve it at all, but it
is part of what we signed up for). I answered that things on the homefront were going surprisingly well. She said "Great! I will pray that it stays that way and that you somehow managed to avoid the usual first major dramatic event and everything will go smoothly from here on out." What she is referring to is what usually happens sometime within week 1-6 of a deployment. It's when your world suddenly comes crashing down on you, and thoughts of "why me", "this sucks", and "oh I don't know how much more I can take" come into your mind. What happens next is that as a military wife you somehow manage to pull all your strength together, and deal with your mini crisis that seems incredibly huge at that given moment because you are still adjusting to life without your other half. Generally from that time forward you slide into what I call "coasting mode"--where life as you know it is different without your beloved spouse, but you have now accepted it and learned to adjust to a new normal. You make time for fun, and try to enjoy yourself and your kids as much as possible. This is also where you learn to cut yourself some slack. Somewhere along the line other obstacles are bound to happen, but instead of approaching them with an "oh poor me" attitude you take them in stride thinking, "I got this. Just one more hurdle. This is only making me stronger." Then as the return date approaches, chaos hits once again as you scramble to check things off of your list that you said you would accomplish before the boys get back. I call that the "manic stage". For me, I am like an elephant shrew on speed. I'll be damned if I leave anything unchecked on my "To Do" list before Nathan gets back. (Okay, I
did let the baby books slide last time. But instead, I started the blog and found a site that will print my entries and publish them into a book--so in a way it takes the place of their baby books.)
The bad news is that Cary's prayers were not answered. The good news is that I think I am over the hump, and that I have slowly entered into "coasting mode".
Our Thursday started out as fairly normal with Linc going to speech followed by both kids attending swimming lessons. Lincoln seemed happy to be back at school with his speech teacher. Then Lincoln got a new swim instructor who let him "do new things". He even swam the length of the pool on his own and got to show off his skills. Corinne passed a level in swimming and moved from "Red 2" to "Orange 1"---meaning that she is now one level behind her brother and finally mastered jumping in and making it back to the wall on her own, among other skills. For a small moment, our day was looking up.
And then we came home to Miss Karen cleaning our house. The truth is, I love Karen. She is our cleaning lady and a friend. She has the kindest heart in the whole world, and I can never thank God enough for letting her enter our life. I always credit her for saving our marriage---not that we were headed for divorce or anything, but Nathan and I finally discovered (it only took us 4 years) that our main source of arguments revolved around cleaning. (He never did it good enough to my expectations, and didn't want to spend his weekends slaving away to my complaints. On the flip side, I couldn't manage to get it done on my own with two kids to watch all day. I could only tackle one room a day the way I like to clean and at that rate, by the time I wrapped up the last room, it was time to start over.) So, why not eliminate the problem altogether and find a trustworthy, dependable housekeeper? Enter Karen. There is only one problem with Karen--she is awesome and my kids know it. And Lincoln has a HUGE crush on her, and pretty much thinks her whole family is the best thing since sliced bread. He also has a crush on her beauty queen daughter and idolizes her motocross racing son. It is easy to see why my little man might be tempted to show off for his leading lady. What I wasn't prepared for was a major malfunction revolving around sandwich crust (of all things) that quickly escalated into World War III--complete with backtalk, screaming, endless crying, and to top it off Lincoln kicked me! To my surprise I was pretty calm (for me), but I only think it frustrated Lincoln more. He was ready for battle and not happy that I was not fighting back. I knew he was tired, but I was not prepared for what came out of his mouth when I asked him why he was so upset and having trouble listening. He told me "Dad is gone, I don't have to listen to you." My heart sank, but at the same time I wanted to scream. What is the right answer for something like that? And as the tootisie pop owl once said, "the world may never know". And for those of you who have not lived this--I will give you a glimpse into my brain at that moment and what I was thinking...
--Ummm, I am still the boss. You need to listen to me.
--This is a test of wills. And I WILL win this!
--You can be sure of one thing--your dad is going to hear about this.
--It is getting real for you too, huh?
--I miss him too kiddo.
--Yeah, this sucks.
--GRRRRRRRRR, I don't know what to do or what to say!
Poor Karen had to witness the whole battle between us. Of course, as soon as she came to talk to Lincoln in her sweet Miss Karen voice he completely cut off the tears. Then the second she walked out the door, he quickly turned them back on. I was embarrased she had to listen to our whole confrontation, but thankful that Karen--having raised two kids of her own close in age, has a heart filled with empathy instead of callus judgement.
After WWIII came to an end, we all three took a much needed nap, and woke up renewed and refreshed. We salvaged the evening, and I was treated with a visit from Super Princess and Super Puppy Dog after bathtime.
I am forever thankful to Joel Idontknowyourlastname, the contractor that works with Nathan. Thank you for making your global phone readily available for his use so that he can come to my rescue in my moment of great need and help me sort through this crisis.
I was so frustrated and tired of being frustrated. Lincoln and Corinne seemed to be completely ignoring me lately, and on their own program. When it was time to clean up at the end of the day, threats of taking toys away (and following through with them) had no effect. It was a source of constant arguement the fueled the fire. A job that should have taken ten minutes, took them over two hours to complete, yet they still left things in disarray. Where was my loving little helper that helps me organize at the end of the day? Why was it so hard to pick up a few things and help me out? Was it so wrong of me to try to teach them a little responsibility? And for the love of sandwich crust, why had Lincoln lost the ability to listen and talk through minor issues and menial tasks? I was having a major "woe is me" moment. Nathan was quick to point out a few things that I never really thought of in my moment of utter despair:
--Lincoln cleans and does ridiculous things around the house to make things nice and organized without being asked.
--I have always stressed that we are a team that works together, and just because I have to take on a lot more these days, it doesn't mean that I can't help the kids.
--I expect a lot out of my kids, but afterall they are only two and four. I need to let them be kids.
Of course, he agreed that the back talk was a major problem and something that needed to change. He also agreed that there is a fine line between teaching kids a little responsibility and letting them be a bit too lazy. Sometimes in parenting there are no right or wrong answers. Things and issues are not always going to be black or white. There is this huge gray area of muck somewhere in the middle that you constantly struggle though--looking for a clear solution. I was so thankful to be able to talk through it all with Nathan.
With the start of a new day, I was hopeful that things would be looking up. After my sister introduced us to some new crazy braids, Corinne and I got creative Friday morning, and developed a new style she dubbed "Rapunzel hair" aka a side braid with lots of clippies.
I now have regular requests for "Tangled Hair".
Then we headed off to meet Mabel, Lukey, Jenn and Jeremy for some pizza and bowling fun. For $5 a child, they get to make their own personal pizza and then bowl while they bake in the oven.
It was the kids' first time bowling, so Mabel--an old pro at this point showed us the ropes.
Corinne was pretty impressed with herself as she pushed the ball down the ramp, but she was not too happy about her ugly shoes.
She had a good time, but grew a little bored with the whole thing by her third turn.
Lincoln happily took over bowling for the both of them.
He could have stayed there for hours, chucking the ball down the lanes as hard as he could.
Friday evening was good for the most part, but I still felt like I was spending too much time trying to talk Lincoln out of tantrums and he was still back talking. Uncle Warren, Jenn, Hunter, and Em were coming for dinner that night and Lincoln had refused to help me pick up. Once again, I felt defeated and tired. Lincoln decided that no dinner party is complete without "party sprinkles". So he once again got to work on his homemade confetti.
The kids were delighted to share the evening with some of their favorite people, and I was happy to have some adult conversation of an evening with friends. However, Warren did relay a bit of disturbing, yet not all that unexpected, news about Nathan and this deployment. I should most likely brace myself for the long haul, and stop holding onto the hope that he might come home in the next few months. As with anything in the Marine Corps, nothing is ever certain until it is happening, but it was most likely time for me to buckle down and move forward with making plans for the spring and summer.
On Saturday, I was determined to have a good day with the kids and stay home to do projects and make sure everyone felt well restesd. The weather was crummy and it was the perfect day to spend in the house playing. I brought the pirate ship and dollhouse downstairs so we could play with them together throughout the day. Then we got out the paint and made Valentine's Day projects for Nathan and the grandparents. The kids had a blast painting...
But they were definitely in need of a bath by the time we were through.
Somewhere in the mix Corinne snuck downstairs and helped herself to a bowl of Stix. This is her "oh man I am totally busted" face.
Saturday was a pretty good day, but it was also sprinkled with tantrums. On a side note, Lincoln and I noticed that our bird of paradise was finally going to bloom soon.
I wish I had a before picture, but this one is a "during" shot that I took in June. The before product was something along the lines of "on the brink of death". It was my little reminder that through constant pruning, nurturing, fertilizing, and a ton of TLC--great things are possible.
On Sunday, we headed straight to church. I didn't even care what the sermon was about this week. I was in desperate need of some alone time, and I happily dropped off my kids in their classrooms where they would be well cared for by loving adults. An hour later, I was dumbfounded by what happened next. I had dropped off an angry, defiant, back talking kid and picked up somewhat of a saint. I was certain that the people in the nursery has slipped a "nice pill" into Lincoln's snack. He was so kind and loving---and happy! He not only asked his teacher for an extra package of Smarties for his sister when I picked him up, but then proceeded to share his last two with her after she had finished her own to make sure she was satisfied. Corinne then needed to take a potty break and he insisted that everyone go ahead of him on our group trip to the bathroom. Who was this kind gentleman and how can I keep him around for good? When we got to the car he let Corinne pick out the movie for the ride home, and covered her with his precious "Blankie" and "Turtle" to make sure she was not cold and felt comfortable. Here he is playing the role of protective older brother.
I showered him with praise on his improved attitude, and tried my hardest to reinforce how much I appreciated his wonderful manners and loving nature. And as proud as I was of him after picking him up from church, the more and more ashamed I felt about myself. What was so different from the church environment verses our home environment? For one, it was clear that we all need a break from one another from time to time to fully appreciate our time spent together. Secondly, the kids were surrounded by loving adults that showed them unconditional love with no expectations or judgements. They simply let my kids, be kids. I love my kids unconditionally, more than the world, but I can be hard on them. I pour on the affection, but I also dish out the complaints from time to time. It isn't like I am a tyrant, but I can definitely be a bit hard on them.
After talking it over with my dad that evening one thing was certainly clear that had to change--I am a yeller. I come by it naturally. I don't yell to be mean. I yell to communicate from floor to floor. I do it to be heard over the kids. I yell to break up fights between them. I yell to get their attention, and basically I yell to survive. I yell to get things done. I run a tight ship and I keep us on schedule--sometimes that means I have to yell in the process. The problem with all of my yelling is that my kids were pretty much immune to it these days.
Nathan isn't much of a yeller. He commonly hollers from floor to floor because he is too lazy to walk down the stairs and have a real converstation with me. And I have secretly always been envious of his "mean Daddy voice" that he can bellow out at any given moment and snap the kids into attention. It startles them, but gets the job done. And no matter how hard I have tried, how loud I get, or how deep and scary I attempt to make my voice--it has never had the same effect.
After mulling it all over in my head, there was really only one solution--I had to stop yelling. As your children grow and change, I think your parenting stategies have to change as well. You have to learn to adapt to new situations and develop new coping mechanisms to get through certain stages. With Lincoln, we have constantly had to adapt our discipline techniques because after about 6-8 weeks our previous plan no longer proves to be effective. And nothing was more clear to me now---yelling was no longer effective. It seemed lately, even when I yelled in an attempt to let them know "I am really, really mad now", they could care less. It was in one ear and out the other. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle and something that I struggle with daily, but it is worth a shot--and I was becoming desperate.
My dad pointed out that something else had to change too--I had to learn to let stuff go. I argued that I had to keep up on the laundry, do the dishes, make the beds, pick up the toys, do the shopping, weed the flower beds, etc., because there was no one here to help me. It is just me, and these things have to get done. He was quick to point out, yes it is just me, but there is also no one here to notice if the laundry sits for a few days or the kids go to bed with a few toys laying on the floor at night. Years from now they won't remember that the house was a wreck from time to time or that we occasionally had breakfast for dinner because that was all we had in the fridge that night. I know why I like things in order. I feel like with so much out of my control, if I can just stay on top of the little things and not let them get out of hand, I can fight off the chaos that is my life as a single parent these days. So if at the end of the day it makes me feel better to tidy up the playroom, so be it--but I need to do it on my own and not add extra duties and responsibilities onto the kids just to make myself feel better. The reality is that I can whip those toys into place in a matter of minutes, and if it means I get to spend more quality time with my kids and less time being angry, than it is definitely worth it.
Monday was the beginning of my new adventure as "calm Mama". The weather was crummy so I bounced on the opportunity to get some errands run. In the mix of things we met friends at McDonald's for some inside playtime and a special fast food treat. Overall it was a good day and I was able to cut Lincoln's whining down significantly. When I asked him why he gets so upset about things he told me that "I whine when I miss Dad". Not knowing how much truth there is to his answer, but ready to addres his feelings, we developed a new coping mechanism. From now on when he starts to miss Nathan, instead of whining or crying, he needs to tell me how he feels and we will drop what we are doing and read one of our photobooks about Dad or do a project for him. He seemed open to the new strategy.
We ended the night on a good note, making our out butter out of whipping cream, a small container, 3 beads (you are supposed to use marbles, but I only had beads on hand), and lots of muscle.
Corinne gave up after about a minute of shaking, and I was thankful that Lincoln has a lot of stamina when it comes to physical activity.
Fifteen minutes later we had curds and whey.
After pouring off the whey and pressing out the extra moisture in a paper towel we added a bit of salt, and spread some delicious homemade butter onto English muffins.
It was so yummy that next time we are going to try making our own version of garlic and vanilla butter.
On Tuesday we made a trip to base to play at the park and pick up prescriptions at the pharmacy. We came home to find this beautiful discovery!
Lincoln was so proud. Afterall, we had been waiting a long time for this and there was a point where we were sure that our lovely BOP was not going to bloom at all this year. When all of the neighbors plants sprouted up and bloomed in late September, we became a bit discouraged. It turns out that our little plant was just a late bloomer.
We ended the week with a trip to Disneyland with Amber, Colton, Weston, Jeremy, Jenn, Mabel, and Lukey.
It was a bit cold in the morning, but we readily fought off the chill, and cherished how desolate the place seemed as we happily hopped from ride to ride with almost no wait time.
We walked right onto one of Corinne's favorite rides with a trip "Under the Sea" with Ariel.
Although Lincoln fought off a bit of whininess for a chunk of the day, he still managed to have fun with friends, and I was finally able to convince him that "The Happiest Place on Earth" was not a place to be grouchy.
I was thankful to have friends there to take the kids on some of the spinning rides after feeling a bit whoozy on my trip around the "Symphony Swings". I am not sure if it is age or stress or lack of sleep, but my stomach was not feeling up to par that day.
As day three of my no yelling movement came to a close, I was optomistic with the results. The kids were a bit confused at who this new "calm Mom" was, but they were much more willing to listen and comply to my requests. And they had stopped yelling at each other as much.
This week was trying for me, both emotionally and physically. But it was also a week filled with lessons. I learned that there are some things I can control in life and others that I can't. I may not be able to control that my children are angry that their dad is gone, but I can control how I react to it. I was once again reminded how much I appreciate not only all that my husband does while he is here, but also the person he is while he is away. Without his constant support and encouragement I would truely be a mess. I have learned to cherish the sometimes unsolicitied advice from my parents--there is some wisdom in there somewhere. I just have to be more open to finding it. I am also forever greatful for the huge support system I have in my friends. I appreciate our conversations as we struggle together to paddle through the gray muck--not knowing all the right answers in this crazy world of parenting.
QUOTES OF THE WEEK
Quote 1: After WWIII Corinne turns to Lincoln.
Corinne: "Brother, I'm gonna drop you off at the animal park because you are a wild animal."
Quote 2: After Corinne suffered a minor owie.
Lincoln: "Sis, you want a smoochie? It's only me, Lincoln--the great superhero!"
Quote 3: When Corinne was not giving Lincoln the space he needed.
Lincoln: "Sis, leave me alone. Do you want me to become mean Lincoln?"
