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.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
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!
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!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Hope Springs Eternal
Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always To be Blest. Alexander Pope
This is just one of those days to feel very sanguine. The sun is brilliant. The mood is right. Or perhaps all the Valentine's Day candy is still coursing through my blood.
No, I am feeling enormously grateful and blessed. I know Valentine's Day everyday with my loving guy and my loving, lovely little girls. We have the normal ups and downs, but I know steadfast love. The flutter of hope springing eternal kicks in my belly, filling me with expectation and wonder.
I am feeling energized. I had to go on a college campus for an article I am writing. For me, there is nothing more full of hope than the dreams of youth and seeing young people work towards their dream, believing without doubt that anything is possible. The group of international students I met today was nothing short of awe inspiring, so far away from home, pursuing their education and goals.
I am feeling proud. Our oldest has become a reader. As she talks about our becoming an artist and an author, an then maybe still a horse trainer, she is growing up before our eyes.
I am feeling joy. As I watch our oldest and our youngest in her full princess regalia and wide eye innocence tonight, I am reminded of what a gift our children are.
I think this is just my way of saying thank you right now.
Monday, February 7, 2011
"Going Batty or Otherwise Titled ,Blog Post Ideas that Literally Fly Before You"
So there we were minding our own business, doing the Kelly bedtime routine. Prayers said, stories read, time to get into ....then like a bat out of hell there was a bat out of hell flying around our loft room. Can I say deja vu?
We have had other bats before. In summer time, screen doors have been left open and bats have found their way in. I think we just had the global warming bat, that thought it's summer or something, because the thermometer went over 30 degrees today for several hours.
We have had other creatures before. Birds have flown into our house. We've had the odd chipmunk or two make its way inside. We have even had snakes. In trying to make our girls feel better, I told them how this is part of country living. I told them about a chipmunk that visited us before they were born and how it bore a stunning resemblance to Alvin. But honestly I put this into the category of I liked old houses until we had one and.... Home improvement work sometimes goes there too.
To some degree, it's just been that type of day. After the bat went to a better place and calm had been restored by the heroic Mama and Mr. Daddy, I went to put tortilla chips away ( yes more tortilla chips for the pregnant lady). I found the package of fish, with the remaining semi thawed fillets, we had for dinner, in the cabinet instead of the freezer. Yes, batty has been the day.
.
We have had other bats before. In summer time, screen doors have been left open and bats have found their way in. I think we just had the global warming bat, that thought it's summer or something, because the thermometer went over 30 degrees today for several hours.
We have had other creatures before. Birds have flown into our house. We've had the odd chipmunk or two make its way inside. We have even had snakes. In trying to make our girls feel better, I told them how this is part of country living. I told them about a chipmunk that visited us before they were born and how it bore a stunning resemblance to Alvin. But honestly I put this into the category of I liked old houses until we had one and.... Home improvement work sometimes goes there too.
To some degree, it's just been that type of day. After the bat went to a better place and calm had been restored by the heroic Mama and Mr. Daddy, I went to put tortilla chips away ( yes more tortilla chips for the pregnant lady). I found the package of fish, with the remaining semi thawed fillets, we had for dinner, in the cabinet instead of the freezer. Yes, batty has been the day.
.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
One Mama's Mathematics: The Things that Add and Subtract to Your Children And You
I guess I like to think in analogies. My husband is one of those engineering types, who sees things in black and white. I am constantly operating in the shades of gray, where I seem to most comfortably abide. It is with irony that this latest post idea came to me. For one it has a math theme and two, it kind of negates what I just said.
Anyways, I've been thinking about how my days of motherhood have a ma thematic quality to them. There are the days I add to my children and myself. These are the days when there is a positive feeling in the house. I have slept well; they have slept well. -No fractions or fractured selves. It's not just a feeling or an attitude, it's a way of interacting with one another. We are a team. Laughter and smiles abound, not the scowl I seem to have become quite skilled at on certain days. Our house had cheek!
There are the days that subtract from who I am and my children. Usually, sleep has been problematic for four or five days, with a sleep disparity and disturbance for me resembling an isosceles triangle. There is nothing equal in the household, whether it be my mood or the girls'. Actions and words take away from one another and diminish whole selves and house.
There are the moments, the variables,that my children add throughout my days.There are the random I love you s and hugs from my little ones that are sprinkled through out a morning and a quiet afternoon.There are the little surprise crafts and pictures that are so wonderfully heartfelt and whimsical that multiply good moods and good cheer. There are my oldest girl's bright smiles, on a face that can be too serious for her little years. There are my youngest girl's belly laughs that make you belly laugh with her. There is the way they play together and the way we all play together that makes any problem come out right.
There are the days of mad math, where I can honestly say screw it to the chaos and disorder that can prevail with small children. I never liked math in the first place. Life, these beautiful little girls, can not be fit neatly into an equation.
Then there are days that I feel like I subtract, subtract, and subtract. Nothing comes out right. Nothing goes right. I get this really shitty image of myself sitting next to this large abacus, counting all the ways I have taken away from the girls at any given moment. I pray and wish for a magic formula that will make it all right.
But then I remember life is not math or if it is, it's closer to mad math. Yeah, mad math....
Anyways, I've been thinking about how my days of motherhood have a ma thematic quality to them. There are the days I add to my children and myself. These are the days when there is a positive feeling in the house. I have slept well; they have slept well. -No fractions or fractured selves. It's not just a feeling or an attitude, it's a way of interacting with one another. We are a team. Laughter and smiles abound, not the scowl I seem to have become quite skilled at on certain days. Our house had cheek!
There are the days that subtract from who I am and my children. Usually, sleep has been problematic for four or five days, with a sleep disparity and disturbance for me resembling an isosceles triangle. There is nothing equal in the household, whether it be my mood or the girls'. Actions and words take away from one another and diminish whole selves and house.
There are the moments, the variables,that my children add throughout my days.There are the random I love you s and hugs from my little ones that are sprinkled through out a morning and a quiet afternoon.There are the little surprise crafts and pictures that are so wonderfully heartfelt and whimsical that multiply good moods and good cheer. There are my oldest girl's bright smiles, on a face that can be too serious for her little years. There are my youngest girl's belly laughs that make you belly laugh with her. There is the way they play together and the way we all play together that makes any problem come out right.
There are the days of mad math, where I can honestly say screw it to the chaos and disorder that can prevail with small children. I never liked math in the first place. Life, these beautiful little girls, can not be fit neatly into an equation.
Then there are days that I feel like I subtract, subtract, and subtract. Nothing comes out right. Nothing goes right. I get this really shitty image of myself sitting next to this large abacus, counting all the ways I have taken away from the girls at any given moment. I pray and wish for a magic formula that will make it all right.
But then I remember life is not math or if it is, it's closer to mad math. Yeah, mad math....
Sunday, January 30, 2011
"Lessons in Uncle Jake's Passing"
Yesterday, my husband and I attended the funeral of his great uncle, a great man. Uncle Jake was 97 years old. Up until the last few years, he was vital. It was only most recently dementia got the best of him. While I only knew him in the way you typically know someone else s great uncle, I came away from the wake and funeral knowing him on a far greater scope than before.
What I saw and heard about him spoke volumes. His wake, at 8PM on Friday night, was still streaming with people. People from the old neighborhood of Lackawanna were present. This was a man who was there when Lackawanna had a certain steel plant that was the heart of the city and thriving. The people of his community, his neighborhood in Orchard Park,where he and Aunt Mary raised their children, were present. The children his children grew up with, were there with their children. They spoke of the home that gladly welcomed them and was always full of good food and fun. He and his wife, Aunt Mary, were the hospitable sort. Laughing loudly telling his stories and openly weeping over their loss, Aunt Mary, his family, and his friends, were there in strong standing, celebrating his life. His brother and his sister, both at least in their eighties, but looking far younger, were present. In my husband's family, they call it coming from strong stock.
It got me thinking a lot about those older members of our families that do live into their 90's and what "strong stock" is about. For Uncle Jake, I believe it had to do with so many things. He had a strong faith; a strong marriage (this would have been year 60 of marriage for he and Aunt Mary); a loving and close relationship with his children, his other family members, and his friends. His sense of humor was legendary. At his 90th birthday party, the family hired a belly dancer to dance at his party. Expressing his gratitude and delight, he said he would say thank you in both Polish and English for those who didn't understand Polish. With a big grin he said," Dziekuje, very much!" Uncle Jake had an incredible work ethic.This was a man who toiled for many years at the Ford Stamping Plant. When he was not toiling hard at the plant, it was at home in his garden, in his yard, or on some sort of machine he had torn apart. When his one daughter ran a florist shop, he worked in her shop helping her. --And this was in his late 80's!! But it wasn't all work and no play. There was always time for family, friends, a joke, and a story or two.
While part of coming from strong stock may be lucky genetics, I do believe a great part of it is choice and perspective in life. It is doing those things that make you feel most alive, but having quiet dignity and faith where and when you most need it. It's about connecting to those around you in a meaningful way and both strengthening and being strengthened by your family and friends. This was Uncle Jake. I can only hope and strive to be more like him.
What I saw and heard about him spoke volumes. His wake, at 8PM on Friday night, was still streaming with people. People from the old neighborhood of Lackawanna were present. This was a man who was there when Lackawanna had a certain steel plant that was the heart of the city and thriving. The people of his community, his neighborhood in Orchard Park,where he and Aunt Mary raised their children, were present. The children his children grew up with, were there with their children. They spoke of the home that gladly welcomed them and was always full of good food and fun. He and his wife, Aunt Mary, were the hospitable sort. Laughing loudly telling his stories and openly weeping over their loss, Aunt Mary, his family, and his friends, were there in strong standing, celebrating his life. His brother and his sister, both at least in their eighties, but looking far younger, were present. In my husband's family, they call it coming from strong stock.
It got me thinking a lot about those older members of our families that do live into their 90's and what "strong stock" is about. For Uncle Jake, I believe it had to do with so many things. He had a strong faith; a strong marriage (this would have been year 60 of marriage for he and Aunt Mary); a loving and close relationship with his children, his other family members, and his friends. His sense of humor was legendary. At his 90th birthday party, the family hired a belly dancer to dance at his party. Expressing his gratitude and delight, he said he would say thank you in both Polish and English for those who didn't understand Polish. With a big grin he said," Dziekuje, very much!" Uncle Jake had an incredible work ethic.This was a man who toiled for many years at the Ford Stamping Plant. When he was not toiling hard at the plant, it was at home in his garden, in his yard, or on some sort of machine he had torn apart. When his one daughter ran a florist shop, he worked in her shop helping her. --And this was in his late 80's!! But it wasn't all work and no play. There was always time for family, friends, a joke, and a story or two.
While part of coming from strong stock may be lucky genetics, I do believe a great part of it is choice and perspective in life. It is doing those things that make you feel most alive, but having quiet dignity and faith where and when you most need it. It's about connecting to those around you in a meaningful way and both strengthening and being strengthened by your family and friends. This was Uncle Jake. I can only hope and strive to be more like him.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)