Confusion

 

My kids seem to be confused about the differences between men and women and what their various roles in "the family" are.  I am realizing more and more how confusing this topic can be to explain.  Our modern world consists of so many different types of people and families that there is no standard answer anymore.  For instance, my son Andrew asked his dad the other day how men have babies... “I know I can't have a baby Dad, but how do boys get babies?"  My husband simply said "You find a nice girl, marry her, and she has a baby that is yours too.  Like Mom and I had you and Evelyn."  Andrew simply pondered for a moment, accepted, and that was that.  But as I thought about this later, I probably would have gone on a bit about how some men love other men and may adopt a baby or find a woman friend to have a baby for them. Or maybe I should explain about stepchildren and such.  I want him to grow up understanding and being comfortable with different types of families, but how in depth do you get with a five year old?

Another example is that my daughter Evelyn continually says that "...When I become a boy, I will play that game...."  She idolizes her brother and often mistakes being older for being a boy and envies all the things her brother can do.  I simply tell her that when she is older, she will not be a boy, but she can do anything she wants when she is an older girl!  Then a small little voice inside me said...she could be a lesbian or she could want to actually be a boy someday. And I wouldn't want her to feel that this isn't a valid option. But again, I chose the standard and less complicated answer.

I can imagine how confusing things can be for kids today. I read once that when your kids ask a question, it is important to tell them the truth with no frills or beating around the bush. Tell them straight out how it is.  I have no problem with that at all.  We are an open family and don't feel the need to hide the facts of life from our kids.  The problem is that I just don't know what the truth is. There are many truths and there is not one token answer to give them.

In any respect, I love to hear my kids take on life and how they have come to understand how things are.  I will leave you with an overheard conversation between my 5 year old son and 3 year old daughter the other day... 

Evie:  When I am a boy, I will have a penis. 

Andrew:  Evie, when you’re big, you won't be a boy.  You will be a mommy and you will always poop and pee out of your bum.  And you will have big boobies like Mom.  But, I like your little boobies. 

Evie: I want to be a Dad when I grow up.

End of conversation.

Strawberry Fields Forever

                                                         

I have gone to the same farm in the valley to pick fresh strawberries every June ever since I was a little girl.  This year, Joe and I had a free day to spend with just our daughter. We decided to accompany my sister and her boys and bring her strawberry picking.   As we stepped out onto the farm, the sweet smell of the air sucked me in. Ohhh nostalgia! For those of you who frequent the strawberry fields, there is a certain pop that one feels in the palm of your hand when you have picked the perfect strawberry.  The tune "Strawberry Fields Forever" drifted through my mind as I bent down, plucked my first berry and shoved it into my mouth.  Delicious!  I explained my picking technique to my girl and she got the hang of it in no time. After each pick, she exclaimed "the perfect one" as she tasted the fruit of her labor.  

                                                           

As she ran up and down the rows devouring strawberries, it brought me back to my childhood when my mother and grandmother would bring my sister and I.  I can remember sitting in the straw lined fields secretly gorging myself while attempting to escape the watchful eyes of the farm workers! I stuffed and stuffed myself!  Unfortunately, as lack of moderation always has a consequence, gorging on berries has no mercy on the belly of a little gal. It was as if the farmer cursed my secret thieving. I can remember sitting on the toilet eyeing my red fingers and stained pants and feeling that the stomach pains were worth every bite!!!   I attempted to save Evelyn from this fate to no avail. Several pit stops were made by our newly potty trained little lady that day.  She didn't seem to mind though and it hasn't stopped her from sneaking into the fridge every 5 minutes to sneak a berry.

In the old days our trunk would be lined with a dozen flats of strawberries. We always picked enough to make jams, pies, shortcake, and of course enough to freeze to last throughout the winter. Like every thing else these days, the inflated price just does not jive with our purse strings.  But, we did pick enough to make a pie together and to snack on for the week.  The way I see it, I don't give a damn how much it costs us to continue this tradition, I don't give a damn how long I have to sit on the pot.  It's worth it!!  And as I see the smile on her face as she digs her teeth into every succulent bite, I know l will always keep going back for more!!

Eyes in the Back of My Head

                                                                      

When I was a little girl my mother always used to tell me that she had eyes in the back of her head.  I can remember wondering if there really were eyes under her locks of brown hair and if they looked like her chocolate browns in the front of her face. She did seem like she always could handle everything.  She worked 60 hours a week as a nurse, cooked every meal, was able to keep a moderately clean, but comfortable home, had beautiful gardens, and was even able to keep a few really close friendships along the way. 

  
 My husband Joe's mother had eyes in the back of her head in a completely different way however.  Hers were all the way in the back of her head as she snoozed through his childhood in the depths of, what I believe now to be, a severe and extended postpartum depression.  Her older daughters did their best to raise my husband and his younger brother, but the lack of a present and helpful mother, as well as an abusive dad, continues to reap havoc with the emotional well being of my husband and his siblings today.  One of his many stories includes him calling his mom for a ride home from basketball practice.  Her response often was "No, I don't feel like it," or, even more horrifying, "I'll be right there," and hours later, after taking the 6 mile hike uphill to his house, finding her asleep on the couch. 

 

These thoughts came back to me when my son Andrew was trying to sneak a third popsicle the other night right before supper. "Stop right there mister," I said, as I continued chopping something for dinner.  He looked at me in amazement and said "Mom how did you know?"  I quickly responded "Andrew, don't you know that I have eyes in the back of my head and that I can see everything you do?"  I was amazed that those words came out of my mouth and that he actually believed me.  He then went into the other room and resumed chasing his sister around the house while I finished making supper. 

 
The funny thing is that, recently, having eyes in the back of my head is the farthest thing from the truth!  For instance, a few months ago, my daughter Evelyn awoke, got right into my face and said ”The lights are on outside!  It’s morning, Mom!" like she usually does.  The difference this particular morning was that there was a disgusting stench coming from her nose!  After much pondering and a tentative doctor’s appointment, Joe and I decided to tag team and he helped me remove the culprit ourselves.  We discovered she had a cotton ball shoved up there and it had been in there for quite some time!  All I could think was: How did I miss this? It seems like she is constantly hanging on my leg, following my every move, breastfeeding, or jumping on me!

 

Then, a few weeks later we were riding in the car and I looked back at Evelyn sitting in her car seat: She had a small greenish color object hanging from her nostril...no not boogers, but a large wad of gum!  It had been there for god knows how long. 

  
Shortly after this, my nephew had slept over and the three of them were totally off the wall all morning.  I had finally fed them, dressed them, and then I sat them all down at the kitchen table with crayons and markers and had them busy drawing pictures when I snuck away for my usual 4 minute shower.  I quickly emerged from the bathroom when before my eyes there were 2 little boys in peals of laughter undressed and running around!  "I just got you all dressed! Where is Evelyn?" I hollered.   Then the boys burst out laughing and pointed to my two year old.  She was in the process of coloring herself with a blue marker.  And as I looked her over she exclaimed “Look Mom, a blue  ...GINA!"  Oh yes, her VA-JJ was as blue as the sky above!  I quickly ran for the box of wipes and to my surprise, my brother in law was standing there ready to pick up my nephew.  He was very understanding of the situation, as he always is, and got the boys to settle down as I cleaned her up and quietly discussed the appropriate things to do with markers!  Did I mention that my sister and her husband are two of those parents that both seem to have eyes in the back of their heads and handle all of life with grace and style???

           
After these series of events, and many more like them, there was a strange turn of the tide.  One afternoon I was asleep after a long night shift at work.  The kids were at my parents for the day so that I could sleep.  My eyes were literally in the back of my head when I slowly came to as Andrew shook me awake. "Hey Mom, we are home."  My foggy eyes slowly adjusted to my son who had received a hideous haircut, from my Dad, without my knowledge or consent.  And, as I complimented him on his new hair, my daughter walked into the room with barely any hair at all!  I still haven't gotten the full story, but from what I can gather, my mom was assisting my dad with Andrew's haircut and Evelyn was simultaneously in the corner giving herself a new do. Neither of my parents came in to drop them off that day.  They just let them at the door and ran!  A few hours later I got a phone call from my dad who apologized. My mother, on the other hand, would not speak with me.  She was so upset!  The funny thing is, is that I wasn't upset at all.  I was relieved that it wasn't me who was at fault for her missing hair!! Does my mother really think I still believe she has eyes in the back of her head?

The fact is, is that I realize we all make mistakes as parents, but I continue to struggle with being able to handle it all.  I often feel that I may lack enough patience, energy, and strength to be the type of mom I want to be.  Let's face it.  We all strive to be mom's whose kids grow up to be emotionally and physically healthy adults who truly enjoy continuing to have close bonds with us. I just hope I have the right instincts to carry on this job well, like my own mom has. I do know that I am trying my best.  And even though I know I don't have eyes in the back of my head, for now, my kids still think I do. 
                                                            

Nice to Meet You!!

Well, I have finally taken the plunge and decided to write the blog I have been meaning to create for some time now.  Those of you that know me know that I resist modern technology. But, in order to stay connected to those I love, I have succumbed to the clenches of Facebook, Twitter, etc.  I have realized that I will remain hopelessly unaware and ignorant if I do not faithfully log in to these life lines of the world today. The world of "The Blog" is no exception.            In fact, I read my first blog about 2 years ago when a friend created the most interesting story describing her mood swings throughout her menstral cycle each month.  It was hysterical!!!  I found myself wishing it was I who had written that witty snippet of real life for my friends and family to enjoy.  Then I got to thinking about how ridiculous it would be to display a personal journal for everyone to read. Or, more horribly, what if I put time and effort into sharing some of my thoughts with people and they simply didn't care to read them?   What if no one wanted to read my hideously ill written words???  And as a result, my low self esteem got the better of me and demolished all thoughts of blogging from my mind.  Then, about a year later I read a heart warming blog about the adventures an old friend was having with her daughter. I found myself sitting at my computer literally in fits of laughter and then tears when I realized that other mothers were thinking the same thoughts, having the same doubts, and feeling the same guilt as I was every day.  I realized that the blogger is not in it to impress the reader, but to tap into those wonderful stories of life that happen everyday, are left untold,  and then are forgotten. I was so happy to be able to share in this wonderful little tidbit of an old friends life.  Just hearing the story made me feel as if I knew her again.  And then I developed a true love for and became an avid reader of "The Blog." Prior to this point however, I have been uninvolved in the sharing part of it all.  Besides the infrequent post on Facebook, I have been an outsider looking in.  Mostly because I have spent the majority of the last 5 years being "Mom."  In fact, someone asked me my name the other day and I almost blurted out "Mom!"  It was like a lightning bolt had struck me! Don’t get me wrong, I love being "Mom."  It is the path I chose to take and I am proud of my very boring and domesticated existence.  But I do miss being able to connect to people in a way that does not relate to motherhood.  Even my career as a Labor and Delivery nurse does not allow me that escape.   It has become my sole identity. I almost feel as if “Liz” experienced brain death and “Mom” replaced her at the time my first child, Andrew, was born.  In a way this is true.  You are never the same after you have children.  But, I fear I just don't have anything interesting to say anymore. Sometimes I feel as if I am losing the ability to communicate to people over the age of 5! I don't even interest myself anymore!  I think blogging may be the outlet I need to help me to connect the “Mom” in me to the parts of myself that have been hiding out.  I want to process and share the lessons I am learning along my bumpy road.  So with no further ado, let me introduce to you, “Liz the Blogger.”  Nice to meet you.