The Long Game

One of the problems with my parenting method is that I tend to take a long game view of my children and their behaviors.  This means that I hope I am instilling good behaviors into them through modeling, positive reinforcement, and gentle corrections before hand, rather than constantly admonishing them after the fact.  This also means that you have no idea if what you are doing is actually working, until it works...or doesn't.  I believe that behaviors that are created this way become more deeply engrained, and things such as a fuss-free bed time routine and good meal manners have certainly come about this way for us.

A key behavior that I constantly stress to my kids is being kind to each other.  We talk about kindness all the time.  Seriously.  I don't think an hour goes by that I don't use the word "kind" to them.  I praise the slightest little kindness as though it were huge.  "That was SO nice of you to be careful when you were walking by your little sister so you didn't knock her over.  You are such a KIND person."  "Would you please put food in the dog bowls?  That would be very kind of you."  "I think you must be very tired, because yelling at the dog wasn't very kind, and isn't the way you usually behave."  I just keep hoping that the concept of "kind" becomes so a part of them that we have a lot more of the praise and very little of the correcting.

I also stress sharing in the same way.  Huge praise when it happens, and constant attempts to set them up for success, but you know how sharing goes with two toddlers.  Yeah, right.  Tonight, my older daughter was playing with a plastic fork.  She set it down for a moment, and the baby made a beeline for it.  The toddler turned around, saw the baby picking it up, and ran over to grab it away.  I said nothing.  I wanted to know how they would work it out.

When the baby just stood there looking sad, the toddler immediately put the fork back in her hand and said "Here, you can use this.  I love you much," and the baby hugged her sister.

Be still my mama heart.  It worked!  I'm sure tomorrow they will have a set back or twenty, but I can see that something is clicking in the quest for kindness.

How did they do it?

It is 7:13, my babies are both sleeping peacefully in their beds, and I have zero gas left in the tank of life.  I am sitting on the couch, and I just know that my arse is spreading as we speak because I just devoured a bagel with extra butter instead of the salad I had made for myself earlier.  I am spent.  And what do I have to show for it?  Not much, truthfully.

The house is in a bit of a state, we had leftovers for lunch and dinner, and I haven't even showered yet today.  The kids were happy and saw very little tv today, so that's a win, but here's the problem...getting my house in order tonight, if I manage to do so doesn't change anything.  I will gather my energy, scrub the house down, prep a nutritious breakfast, lunch, and dinner for tomorrow.  I will shower, and maybe even shave my legs.  Maybe.  And then tomorrow, it happens all over again.  Tomorrow night I will put the kids to bed and look around the house which will again be in a bit of a state.

Depending on how old you are, you may remember your mother, or your grandmother, or perhaps even your great-grandmother's house.  You may remember gleaming windows, a definitive lack of toilet bowl rings, clean shelves inside of the refrigerator, spotless baseboards.  Or maybe you remember none of that specifically, and just recall a sense of perfection and peace when you entered her home.  You surely remember the smell of the cookies she always baked for you, or that chicken dish that only she could make just so.  You do remember that, right?  Maybe it wasn't your mom, or grandma, but an elderly relative.  Either way, I'm sure you knew a woman who was the mistress of her domain, and not a single stray carper fiber was going to defy her.

How the hell did those women do it?

Oh.  Right.  They were a whole lot less lazy than we are.  They didn't spend time watching tv, or goofing around on Facebook.  They woke up before their husband, made the coffee and breakfast, and once they got their families successfully out the door, they got to work.  Real work, not the halfhearted we do aided by all of our gadgets and products.  They cooked, cleaned, mended, and cared for the babies still at home.  They made time for the things that were important, like their friends, and those friendships were more valuable than their breath.

They put their family first.

They are how I find the energy to get my heinie off of the couch and get on my knees to scrub the tub.  Out of sheer respect for my forebears, I will not fall into the quagmire of laziness.  I will stay off of Pinterest until behind the toilet has been sanitized.  I will be a housewife that my grandmother would be proud of.  I will say "I am a housewife" with pride, because it MEANS something.  It means that I am a part of a long tradition of hard work and dedication to one's family.

I'm Falling Apart, But My Family Isn't. Or, How Mama Got Her Groove Back.

My husband likes to joke that I'm ALWAYS hurt or sick.  It is starting to feel like he's right.  But, there may be a coming explanation for my constant injuries.

This has been a pretty wild week.  On Monday, I started having some chest pain, but thought nothing of it, because I often get chest pain and it goes away as mysteriously as it began.  By Tuesday night, it had gotten worse, and I was getting dizzy, so my husband took me to the hospital.  They couldn't find anything wrong, but based on my history of blood clots, they assumed that I had a blood clot in my lungs, and had me follow up with my hematologist.

My hematologist was on vacation, and the covering hematologist basically told me I was wasting his time, and that there was no way I had a clot if all of the tests were negative.  I'm not entirely sure why he was such a jerk.  I didn't just wander in off the streets looking for a Lovenox fix; I was sent by another doctor who was concerned about my history and didn't want to miss anything.  Moving on (though still irritated) I was sent to my primary care doctor.

That was another huge cluster.  The office had no power, but the amazing nurse practioner turned into a  Jack Russell Terrier on the hunt for a rodent, and was figuring this out by flash light if she had to.  She booked me appointments for an echocardiogram, as well as a cardiologist consult, and also recommended I start Prilosec just in case it was something silly like heart burn.  Heart burn sounded pretty good to me, so I left with my fingers crossed that this was just really bad heart burn.  Though, to be blunt, I knew it wasn't, because heart burn doesn't typically leave people dizzy and short of breath.

That night, she called me, and told me that she had a potential cause of this pain; I had a fracture on one of my vertebrae in roughly the same area.  This sounded like great news at first, because fractures heal. But then I realized that with no recent falls, this fracture was probably caused by osteoporosis.  And I'm only 34 years old.

That was a total bummer.  And more so of a bummer when my well-meaning husband pointed out that I need to start doing the things I want to do before I end up in too much pain to function.  But that statement shocked me into an epiphany.  Maybe he's right, but I'm not going to live that way.  I'm going to do all of the things I want because I want to share those experiences with my husband and babies, not out of fear of not being able to do them next year.

This morning, I brought my little ladies to a play date with two lovely women that I went to grade school with, and their charming little men.  It was a blast.  It hurt like a bastard, but it was worth every minute.  And tonight, I told everyone that someone else was here helping me, and I did it myself.  I can't remember the last time I've laughed so hard, or enjoyed life so much.  Tonight was a blessing.  Yes, it hurt, again, like a bastard, but I wouldn't trade it for all the healthy bones in the world.

There are some things I will do whether or not I have osteoporosis; I will continue to lose weight.  I will do this because I want to set a healthy example for my girls, but also because I want every bite that goes into my mouth to be an opportunity for healing and nutrition.  I will go back to Bikram yoga as soon as my knee and back permit, and the cardiologist clears me.  I will start swimming again.  I will start walking again.  I will pursue a healthy body because I love my family, but also because I love myself.  I will pursue a healthy mind for the same reason.

I will not permit my family to fall apart again, even if my body disintegrates bit by bit.  This is MY family, and MY life.