Fieldnotes

The Tyke and I spent a few days last week visiting my sister and her family in Wyoming.  Those of you with siblings will understand me when I describe her as THE SIBLING.  She is in every way the steadying force for the kids in our family as well as the heart of her own family.  Endlessly patient, unruffled, genuine, and compassionate; Liz is the kind of sister that all little sisters hope to have in their lives. Not because they are older and beautiful. Not because we want to steal from their closets (although not actually true in this case, my older sisters were children of the '80's...), but because they just go about their business with a quiet self-assurance that tells the world they refuse to be phased by what may or may not come along.  Mostly, I learn so much from her because she doesn't try to teach me anything.  Let's face it, I wouldn't listen if that were the case, anyway.

I love being around Liz, her husband, and her 4 kids because I get to observe a family operate the way I'd always assumed an ideal family would- and having the chance to observe this particular species of Familia blanda in its natural habitat in the wild western suburbs of Wyoming was too good to pass up.  I came away impressed yet not at all surprised that my theory that this particular family can and does function peacefully was proven entirely true.

I'm not saying there was no conflict or potential for a serious brawl or two- there were plenty of chances for things to Get Western.  Especially when you take into consideration that the # of people staying in the house was more than doubled by the time my brother and his family arrived to join my parents, The Tyke, and me.  The big shocker was the overall sense of serenity and stability in that house.  I loved it.  Not to knock my childhood in any way...but coming from  a background where my nuclear family felt more like a nuclear firestorm a lot of the time, I was beyond thrilled to be accepted into a non-warring tribe while I was there.

Like all mothers, I've taken, dissected, examined, and analyzed my childhood from every possible angle in the hope that I can give The Tyke "Better" than I had.  And it doesn't matter that I had a perfectly fine childhood- I AM NOT COMPLAINING, HERE- I was lucky to have more than a lot of kids could have ever hoped for.  All I'm saying is that if I can get an edge on this whole parenting thing by watching my sister operate as a matriarch, you better believe I'm gonna poach every single tip I can.  It's survival of the fittest most-able-to-steal-and-duplicate-positive-behaviors in this parenting wilderness and I'm not dying to fall prey to avoidable mistakes.  

And maybe...just maybe I'll be able to foster in my single kid the self-esteem, optimism, and trust that I see in all of Liz's kids.  On the secret to her parenting instincts, the only thing Liz has ever said is, "I've got great kids!"  So is it Nature or Nurture?


Yes.

Home Again

The Tyke turned 4 last January. Like every mother before me, I cannot believe how fast this dude is growing up.  I see him change a little more every day and I am loving every minute of it!  I wake up in the morning and can't WAIT to hear what is going to come out of his mouth next, while also praying he's not going to utter any swears or pass along unsolicited information he's picked up from me random strangers in the street.  This kid is such a narc.

I quit my job in February, which means I get to chill with this guy 24/7.  Switching gears from working full time to staying home full time has meant a lot of adjustments for me, mostly of the "Oh crap, now I have to be sure I'm engaging as a parent" variety.  Once I figured out how to get through the hopeless abyss that is the 4:00-6:00 pm window every day, things have been looking up.  I've seen a noticeable difference in The Tyke since I've been home with him full time and I love the chaos that happens every day as he and his buddies up the street swoop in, out, between, over, under, and through the house as they play.

Is it an easy transition? Hell no.  Do I miss working? Yes. I loved working and it was a tough decision to take this step to be home, reset, and work on some things I've been putting off for years.  But then there are moments with The Tyke... the ones I never knew I was missing- like last week when he told me "I got a lot of love in my heart, Mom." or when he said, "You're funny, Mom," in response to a silly conversation we were having.  Right then, the heavens opened, choirs of angels sang, and there was peace and prosperity all through the land (David Beckham might also have been riding by shirtless on a white horse as well, but I can't prove it).  

I find myself wondering if I've reached the point where a good chunk of my self-esteem is wrapped up in my preschooler.  The same preschooler who thinks saying, "poopy pants" is the funniest thing in the world (although I'll give ya that one...poop is hilarious).  And surprisingly, my biggest fear in surrendering to Mommyhood- losing myself - is no longer scary because every now and then I get to see a bit of myself coming out in The Tyke's personality.  Heaven help us all.

Survivor

I don't know how to begin this post after taking time off for so long.  These last few months have consisted of simply hanging on while managing one crisis after another.  And when I say "managing", what I really mean is I get out of bed in the morning to be repeatedly punched in the stomach by Life.  Not in the endearing 'overzealous-toddler-unexpectedly-socking-distracted-parent-while-the-rest-of-the-family-laughs-heartily-even-though-they-could-have-easily-warned-said-parent-and-spared-injury-to-both-body-and-pride' kind of way a la America's Funniest Home Videos, either.  No.  These last weeks have definitely hovered between the Complete Thumping and TKO range.  I'd say I had a Serious Beat Down, but I don't have enough street cred for that.

Generally, I have a strict policy to "Just say no to ambiguous blog and Facebook posts," however, some things I may not share and some I may not share for a while.  The good news is that it's not all bad, and in fact, a lot of this has not only turned out well, but also, has been a great catalyst toward the next step.  Bright side, anyone?  Pollyanna can feel free to kiss my ass any time now.


 The most recent big event of our lives came last week when, after a check on two new lumps on Dixie (after 5 previously benign growths), the vet came back telling me she officially had cancer.  At the time, they weren't sure where else it may have spread or how serious it was, but I was told she'd lose an ear and potentially a leg.  I spent the next 24 hours dreading the worst case scenario and attempting to calm LT (who is currently in Dallas for work) via email and telephone with detailed instructions to keep breathing.  Any of you who read this blog will maybe have a tiny inkling of how I feel about my girl Dixie.  (In case you forgot, see here or here or here or here or here or here or here or here or here.)  On Friday, I took her in for her blood work and ultrasound and waited forever for a few hours.  The vet finally called back saying she was clear everywhere else and asking if I wanted to go ahead with the surgery since Dixie had already been fasting and sedated for the appointment that morning.  More waiting resulted in the call that my gal was fine, resting comfortably, and ready to go home the next day without an ear, but with all four legs.    

She's now doing really well and recovering wonderfully.  I'm so grateful that she was able to come out of this with such a minimal amount of surgery and treatment and I consider myself extremely blessed every day I get to spend with this quirky member of our family. 

Stylish

He came up to me today and asked, "Am I gonna be cool if I wear this?"

The only answer to that question is an emphatic "Yes!"

The Perks

Yes, I've neglected the blog.  Again.  Just know I will promise that I will be more consistent.  Then I will disappear for another few months.  I've just been way too busy enjoying this awesome little guy who keeps me laughing with all the crap he comes up with.  Like the other day...

The Tyke: "Mom, am I a genius?"
Me: "Of course, buddy."
The Tyke: "Thanks, Mom.  You're a good Mom."

Or this...he was trying to make himself a superhero (Nacho Libre, specifically).  Need  I say more?

And then today, The Tyke came running into the kitchen crying that he hurt his finger.  I gave him a hug and asked him if he could wiggle his fingers.  He looked at me and whined, "NO, I CAN'T!!"

I replied, "Oh no! If your finger doesn't work then I'm just gonna have to bite it off."

Have you ever wondered what abject terror, mingled with doubt, topped off with a dash of concern looks like in a 3 year old?  Now I don't. 

The Apple of My Eye

Har de har har...