Elaine on Seinfeld, Rhythm, and Motherhood

              I thought I would wait to pen this until after my post Halloween sugar high. But here I am, alone for a few minutes on a Monday morning. The little goblins are still asleep. Insert wicked witchy laugh here.
            I have been thinking a lot about rhythm, routine, and being a mother. Some of the blogs I follow are written by mamas who subscribe to a more Waldorf type of education style. Within this tradition, there is a lot of emphasis on having a natural rhythm in your household and routine. Well, I am working on it folks. I have to say that this one area that has never been easy for me, For I have rhythm, both dance and otherwise, like Elaine on "Seinfeld" did.. I feel like I am constantly on the end of pushing myself to the outer limits, like some whacked out space creature. For me, it seems it's always what else can I squeeze into the day, the hour. etc.. etc. At times  it leaves me feeling high and dry, Other times the more I do, th better I feel. Ugh!  With a newborn in the house, this same old feeling has come back doubly or triply hard. I need some medium ground, but can't seem to see it in the moment. Any tips on natural rhythm that work for you?   I will take dance tips too. 

Nearly three months later, do I spot normalcy on the horizon?

               Of course those who know me will laugh like I do when I say normalcy. You're talking to the woman who owned a fish purse in high school and would do a lot for another one.  While I do not claim to have it down pat, at this gentle moment, in this late hour or early hour of the new day, I will say things continue to feel a little more normal each week. The cricket and the wildflowers and I do our thing. Now we will add school to the mix and see what type of potpourri our lives look like.
        Speaking of school, mercy I don't want to see summer end. The summer of 2011 will forever be noted by the sounds of a baby, the blur of July, the whiz of two beautiful little girls growing up before me and off on their bikes and their fairy wings to swim, play, and make adventures up.I am having a really hard time letting go of this at the moment. The summer already has the feel of  a worn,yellowed photograph that is so known and looked at because of how much it changed our lives and because of the transition point  I know it will mark in the years to come. My baby girls start preschool and second grade today.  The sweet babe now coos and smiles, though just born what seems like minutes ago. As I go off to bed I gratefully ponder these changes and marvel at our lives. I am blessed...

When the supermom cape is off -two months later

           I sometimes feel like supermom emerges in the shower in the morning. Before it, I am a blurry eyed woman, much in need of coffee, and half responding to the world around me. As I go into what is equivalent to a phone booth for this supermom, I ready myself for whatever crisis is about to come upon the household or whatever adventure.
        My cape is well used and is sometimes fraying in the back. Sometimes it's terribly wrinkled, stained, and faded. Sometimes it's dazzling and magnificent. There comes a time in the day when the supermom cape goes off and I join my fellow supermoms for that magical time when I return to being just me while the children sleep. The problem comes when I can't see beyond my masked disguise and that woman I am outside my supermom role is blurry. Sometimes I have no idea how to leave Gotham City or the cave. Sometimes, I just fall asleep and the cape is still on me, yet I am on the ground with no means of flight. I am somewhere between being adjusted to all the changes in our life and just somewhere.
     But I guess my cryptonite is increased sleep and setting up somewhat of a routine. Or perhaps it is gaining more of a flexibility in attitude and rolling with things more easily. But there are so many battles and fires to put out. There are meltdowns to take care of and hunger pains to calm. There are little people with desperate cries for help.There is trying to figure out how to find time with Superman.  Motherhood certainly is a warped speed.So I go inward and try to figure it out, but you can bet I'll be flying around tomorrow.

One Month Later

            I am not sure who penned the famous quote about writing to experience life twice. In joy or in sorrow, I know that writing has always allowed me that privilege. Today, well really yesterday already, I mark Patrick's one month birthday.  To write, right now, is to experience the sheer joy, once again of the little cricket's birth. It is to remember the tiniest and  most extraordinary detail of the early morning he was born, as spring was becoming summer and our family grew to five. The little boy I was sure I was carrying came quickly into the world after three hours of some serious back labor. It was a labor so different than my girls, perhaps reminding me in a big way of the new sensation, phenomenon, I was  to experience with adding a boy to our midst.  Surrounded by some extraordinary women:  Ceil- my friend, midwife, nursepractioner. her student Dawn ,who will be as incredible as Ceil is in her futue practice, my mother, my sister, our friend Ann, and my husband, I found my own strength through their strength, to deliver our beautiful boy. 

            In meeting Patrick, I was immediately struck by his resemblance to our oldest, Allison, and how he had the presence of an old soul. If our son resembled Allison, he certainly resembled my husband. As I marveled at him, I wondered about his place in our family and his personality. I thought about odd things like who the women he would date would be like after having two big sisters. I wondered how his sisters would take to him. To see them meet their little brother for the first time was one of the most tender moments of my life. I will never forget their expressions at seeing them meet him and then seeing them for the first time after being away from them like I was, Their level of concern in their little faces was precious and priceless.
       So a month later we continue to adjust in our daily lives to the rhythm of a newborn. But certainly there is not a more beautiful song....

"Beast Mothers"

      So my oldest is learning to spell and sometimes, it just doesn't come out right. Or does it?  After getting into some trouble this morning, she and her little sister decided to make cards for their mama. My guess is that they were worried their trip to Darien Lake would be off if some major buttering up didn't occur. She told me she and her younger sister were going to throw me a party, but did the cards instead.  So, I open it:


             Here are some flowers for the beast mother.  I love you!

Wishing all my fellow beast mothers flowers and these funny thoughts!

Blessings,

Nicole

"It's the botttom of the 9th and other cliches that hold and do not hold truth"

                  Little Seamus or Fionna will soon appear. Are we ready? In some ways, I feel like that person who forgot their favorite bat. They might not have everything in order, but they will do the best they can with the skills and talent that they have. After seven years of being a mother, I would hope all the baby stuff comes back. Yet why do I feel  like such a rookie all of a sudden?
                It will feel like old hat, having a baby again.  Will it? Many of my old hats are stretched out and worn out. I am afraid of that. Two kids later- worn and worn out  definitely  describe how I feel on a bad day.
        Going from two to three is cake walk, compared to going from one to two. Again,  I go back to the rookie and worn out sensation.  What is a cake walk anyway?
           You will forget about the child birth pain and remember the joy of having the baby.  Really? Right now I am worried about the pain and the time it will take to deliver. Rachel was epidural free and a much easier birth compared to Ally, who I had an epidural with and a much more difficult labor. Yet I think drugs right now!! Drugs!
           You will find your way and a new normal. I still struggle with finding my way with my little ones. Normal seems to change by the week.
            There's nothing to fear but fear itself. There's a whole lot to fear. I am really good at finding it

Excuse me everyone, I am just having some jitters and anxious thoughts. Please wish me well and pray for a healthy baby and a healthy, quick, and safe delivey.




           


                

We've been invaded by merry maids and other facts and fiction

           It's been forever since I have last blogged. It seems that a few things have been getting in the way. I'll start with that it's week 27 of my pregnancy. Somehow, I didn't feel as whipped as I do now, as with my first two. Being that much older and common sense prevailing, it makes sense. At night, when I most often blog, I often succumb to me bed, couch, or arm chair. Okay and then there is that book I couldn't put down. If you like historical fiction like I do, I highly recommend Ken Follett's latest:  The Fall of Giants book one of a new trilogy. It's main characters, including one who is from a fictionalized old money Buffalo family, will captivate and intrigue you, as World War I unfolds.Did I mention the gremlins, I mean hormones, that have taken over my body certain days of the week? In striving to keep my composure the days those beasty things are out of whack, that has been enough of a task.  Then there was the food poisoning, the encore presentation of the stomach bugs, as Rachel calls them. After a fantastic night out with some friends, Mike and I got food poisoning. A call to the establishment we visited was quite humorous. The person told me to ask for Guy next time I was in and for my troubles a drink would be on the house. First of all, the said place will not be revisited. Secondly, all the Harps and red wine in the world will not bring this post, have given birth mama to, the place again for their grub or a drink. This occurred at the end of the week that Ally had a stomach virus. You know how it goes with kids, they bounce back in a few days.But all the late nights, worries, etc wipe mama out for the week or more.

Crying and whining aside, our house, I mean castle in our girls' eyes, has been taken over by Irish dancers and princesses. The girls were captivated by the Irish dancers we saw at the Valley Community Center in the old First Ward last weekend, particularly their curly wigs and beautiful dresses. I'd love to see them learn this type ofdance and more about their Irish roots. Between Mike and I, namely Mike, the girls have the United Nations in their blood. Princesses are also abounding.  Rachel no longer wants to be called by her name. She prefers Ariel or Cinderella. She told me she would like to study to be a princess in college. Allison would like to be Belle, continue to study horse training in college, but be a princess. As Barbie meets princess, meets questions about earthquakes and Mother Theresa ( a typical week of questions in the household of wildflowers), I strive to instill the importance of beauty being most important on the inside. Little girl fantasy is alive and well and to be tempered, as needed, I guess.

And the random. We are trying some experiments in being gluten free. Thankfully, it's not by necessity, but by choice. We're hoping that a few Kelly's might have happier guts. It never ceases to amaze me the wealth
 of information online and in a room full of people when it comes to an issue like this and a shared experience. The recipe I've been using for bread has been okay. I am still doing a whole lot of experimenting.

I've been having some Braxton Hicks contractions all week. While everything I know and read says it's nothing, it gets me wondering about an earlier due date than anticipated.

With all that in mind, I do wish we had been invaded by the merry maids and that there was nary a thing more to do until the baby was born around our palace. Daydreaming aside, with much to prepare, many questions to answer, and a baby ready to burst on the scene, happy spring my lads and lasses!