Mediocre Mama

I've had a moment of clarity. These are few and far between, in general my brain is like a bowl full of mush surviving on coffee and sweet tea, but for a moment my foggy brain woke up. This moment happened when I was sitting in my friend's kitchen while she hand washed her dishes. In the city, to own a dishwasher means you have an extra $200/month for rent - meaning I can't afford to live in these places. We were joking about how much better we would be as moms if we only had a dishwasher. Or if we had a washer and dryer in our building. Or. Or. Or. As we sat there talking about who we are as moms while her kid napped and mine was at preschool (because when else can two moms find a bit of time for friendship except for over a counter of dirty dishes?) I had a moment of clarity. I am sacrificing a dishwasher (eliminating a $200 expense) so that I can be a stay-at-home/working mom.

I love spending time with my daughter. Most days. The first couple weeks of preschool have been challenging. But most of the time she's polite, curious, funny, and always up for a conversation. So I love my job as a SAH/WM. But I'm not quite as perfect at it as I imagine in my head. In my head we are bathed, hair done, teeth brushed at 7pm (like tonight - #winning!), but usually we are running around trying to buy groceries, get the laundry done, be social, and we run out of time and suddenly it's 10pm and I'm a #mediocremama. How quickly I fell from my pedestal of perfection!

But here's the deal - the end result of my moment of clarity. There is freedom in just accepting that I cannot be perfect and I will make mistakes and my kid will sneak 5 lollipops before I noticed she had even one because I'm doing my best to provide for my family, making sure my child is a good addition to society, caring for and supporting my husband, not killing the cat, and not getting submitted to be a contestant on Hoarders by one of my perfect friends. Phew! And that's the short list!

So if you are a #mediocremama like me, let's stop feeling guilty all the time and beating ourselves up for the mistakes we make, the piles of clean, unfolded laundry, the unwashed floors, the 3 day old dirty dishes, and the messy hair on our kids. Let's spend more time hugging, kissing, running around the park, blowing bubbles, laughing for the hundredth time at the same stupid knock knock joke (stupid is a word only allowed by adults in our house), and dancing to music. You can do all these things with your child or a stranger if you wish, but I was thinking of your child. To each his own. Point is, let's enjoy life and be #mediocremamas together.

xoxo

P.S. If you are a full time working mama, all this applies to you as well! We all make sacrifices for our family and one is not better than the other. This post wasn't meant exclusively for stay-at-home moms.

I learned something today...

Foot update: after 12 weeks, the first few being in shock, I've learned a lot. Today I asked (for the first time) to look at my broken foot X-rays. I'm so broken bone averse (I hate seeing stories or seeing pictures) that I've completely avoided knowing specifics of what happened. It wasn't until I found a support group on Facebook for my type of break: Lis Franc Fracture and they asked questions that I decided I should probably find out. Some of us are really slow, I know you just rolled your eyes at me. 

So here's what I found out: Turns out my first two bones separated from each other at the joint on the top of my foot and I have two screws holding them together to stabilize while they reconnect. Kind of like couples therapy for a separated married couple: painful and not fun with no chance of divorce. Not so complicated now that I know! 

I've now also been cleared to try walking in my boot, but had a lot of pain when I did try last week. I was imagining my screw slicing through the bottom of my foot. Not dramatic at all, right? Well turns out they call that plantar fasciitis and I now have it. So my dr has given me some stretching exercises... Wait, I can move my foot?!! Yep! I can now flex my foot. If I get up enough courage. 

So I've refilled my ibuprofen precsription and can start stretching and prepare to walk. Only problem, I have to convince my brain it's okay. Do you know what happens when for 12 weeks you tell yourself, NO WALKING. DONT STEP ON YOUR FOOT. DONT SET YOUR FOOT ON THE FLOOR? You forget how to walk. In addition I've got no muscle left. So I'm in for a painful journey of rehab. It might take more than ibuprofen, good thing I saved a stash of the harder stuff. 

And finally, I am getting my screws removed (firing the therapist) on June 28th. Pray for me. 

The Pothole Lessons

Today I was contemplating on past life lessons. Some are embarrassing, shameful, still fresh, and painful. But without them, how do we grow? Our knowledge and decision making abilities need to be tested occasionally, and then how we choose to handle those incidents impacts our character, challenges our ignorance, hopefully - pushes us forward.

Since I broke my foot two months, two days, three hours, and 58 minutes ago (and counting), I have had many opportunities for reflection, decisions, action, and growth. Have I taken them all as they came? Uh... No. But here's where I am today. 

I find myself currently riding the line between enjoying every moment I have left of this "restful?" journey and missing or rather looking forward to getting back to "life as I know it." I have several celebrations, parties, events planned with my family and friends in Michigan which I wouldn't have been able, rather, have chosen, to be a part of otherwise and I'm excited I am joining in! But on the other hand, looking at photos of Gigi at our apartment in Chicago has me feeling sad and missing our routine life there, and also excited as I look forward to how it will be different when we get back to it. 

I am a slightly different person going back than when I left. I've had 2 months + to slow down, enjoy more time with Genevieve, invest in family and friends outside of Chicago, cultivate relationships, watch numerous hours of Netflix *insert brain bleed*, learned to knit and crochet, and fall in love with sitting outside. ETC. About a month into this journey I began looking at how I wanted to shape my life. Being forced to slow down helped me realize I was running myself ragged and not really enjoying anything. I felt despair in some cases, which is ironic considering I still feel despair doing the complete opposite. *Insert a theory on "the grass is always greener."* So, while I have not handled every moment of this time as well as I would wish - it's a constant battle between gratefulness and rage - I have slowly been changing and moving forward. 

When I look back on this time I want to remember so much that I am grateful for: the snuggles with Genevieve, the time to color, the conversations with friends, the support of my family in MI and adopted family in Chicago, the love people have for me, the care I've been given, the hope for humanity that I've been shown, the romance of my husband from afar (distance DOES make the heart grow fonder), getting ice cream with my grandma, mom, and daughter, simple days of playing in the back yard, the fb community who is there to "like" and encourage. So much good has come out of this! 

Two more weeks till I return home. I am hoping that I continue to learn more life lessons, painful as they may be, so that my life will be even brighter, more full, and more abundant than it was before I fell into the pothole. 

 

The Pursuit Of A Soul-Full Match

Most, if not everyone knows I participate in personal growth work. It's hard to know me for any length of time and not know this about me because I get so excited (or upset) and eventually start sharing what I'm learning. And I love when people "match me." (A phrase borrowed from a fellow groupie.) I love when I vulnerably share how I'm feeling, something I like or dislike, or my latest upset around raising a toddler and the person shares something on the same level of vulnerability in return. It's like being genuinely hugged, a comforting embrace that fills my soul. 

In the past five years, especially since becoming a mother, I haven't had time for fluff. An example: When Genevieve was born I was firm in my belief of "Breast is Best!" It was my honor, privilege, right as a mother to nurse my child. Sadly though, my nursing experience was NOT as expected, hoped, and wished for. It was a brutal battle between postpartum emotions and a hungry baby.  (I'll share more details in a future blog post.) So when a friend would come to visit me days and weeks after Gigi was born, they often found me deliriously tired and covered in milk, tears, and sweat. It was impossible for me to fake my way through conversations and pretend everything was beautiful and everything I had imagined. I needed friends who could "match me": mirror back the pain I felt, share their pain, and hug me.  

This is not natural for me though! And I'd guess it's not natural for most people. We are trained to be guarded and suspicious. And as a child, rightfully so. But there came a point in my life where surface conversations and trite sayings just didn't cut it anymore. They didn't heal me as much as talking about my pain did. As we wrap up this Thanksgiving holiday season (I'm still in denial that tomorrow is Dec 1), I am grateful for the friends I have who share their rawness with me; who open their souls and match me. This is what comforts me in life, more than the pursuit of happiness, there is joy in soul-full relationships. 

Thank you friends. Thank you family. We are all on a journey and I feel blessed to have you be a part of mine.

The Story of Lucille Ball - The Cat

Once upon a time there was a lonely young maiden. She sat in waiting for her fiance to arrive from a far away land. Needing comfort she decided to take comfort in a cat; hoping to assuage her misery.

She searched high and low through the Craigslist debauchery when at last she came across a small, female feline named Lucille Ball.

To the land of Skokie she trudged. Onto the CTA train she snuck. Home at last with her new friend.

Lucille Ball became Lucy Julsaint in an instant for she was not even red haired.

Together the lonely young maiden and the cat renamed Lucy bonded, loved, and lived happily ever after ...

Until.

The fiance arrived from the far away land. In that far away land, Lucy would was considered a tasty meal. And her life was at risk.

The young maiden begged the skeptical fiance not to cook the cat - she tried to convince him of Lucy's exuberance for life, her cuddles of love, and approving purring. He soon acquiesced and begrudgingly allowed the cat to remain.

Lucy returned to her blissful life of window napping, bird watching, and princess demands.

Until.

The young maiden was with child.

Lucy protested! She pawed at the baby in the belly, sang the songs of her people all night long, attempted smothering the belly and squishing the young maiden. All for naught.

The baby was born. She came to live in Lucy's palace. Not knowing the cat's aversion to spastic movements, bursts of tears, and Lucy's general disdain for anything taking the young maiden's attention away from her petting routines, the baby grew.

She grew and she grew and she grew. Until she could crawl, then walk, and finally chase. With each stage Lucy's anxiety grew. She constantly cried out! "Stop finding me! Don't touch me! Give me space!" But her cries for help were lost to the child who viewed her as a battery operated stuffed animal.

So here's where the story remains. Lucy is perpetually in hiding, the child has honed her hunting skills, the search is on...

My Little Tree Hugger

The other day while we were driving in the car, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw Genevieve with her head tipped to the side snoozing away, capturing a nap. This is not a rare occurrence in our lives. Often we are running from one thing to the next and there are times when she just has to nap when the opportunity presents itself. This got me thinking about the roles of Nature vs Nurture in our lives.

This is not how I imagined I'd be as a mother. Before Genevieve was born, in my life as a nanny, I was all about structure, sleep training, schedules, classes, playdates, and preparedness. I always had all the necessary supplies: wipes, diapers, snacks, drinks, emergency medicine... We were home on time for nap every day and if the child woke up "too early" I would let them hang in their crib or talk over the monitor and say, "Not time to wake up yet, go back to sleep." Partly because I believed the child needed this rest (and occasionally true) and also because as a nanny this is your "lunch break," your time to recharge, time to throw dishes in the dishwasher or fold the laundry, this time is SACRED.  So it was only natural that I thought I'd follow suite as a mother...

Well, circumstances have led us along a different path of parenting. As a mom who works and brings her child along, Genevieve doesn't always have the privilege of having a set schedule. She's often in the car running errands or heading from one job to the next with me. She helps me clean houses and makes friends with all the kids I babysit; her only requirement: I must play "songs" while we are in the car. (It is so cute listening to her sing along to her favorite cd by Miss Julie or her favorite song on the radio, "Cool Kids.") Because of the realities of the way we live our lives now, sometimes we are home for nap and sometimes we only have time for a quick nap in the car on the go. Genevieve has become the friendliest, most adaptable child!

So while I was glancing at my sleeping babe I just got to thinking about an article I read on introverted vs extroverted. I'd label Genevieve as an extrovert; me, her mama is somewhere down the middle, and her papa is an introvert. Just based on our lives, I think we've "trained" her - nurtured her - into becoming the little blossoming extrovert that she is. Maybe in another lifetime, with another schedule, or a different family system, she would be an introvert... It was just a random thought I had.

Through my babysitting & nanny experiences, and now motherhood, I've seen how we act as parents, how we nurture our children, impacts them. They adapt to our family systems, to our schedules. They learn our habits, traits, strengths, and weaknesses and then they transform into little adults who we hope become slightly better versions of ourselves. I'm not pro-nature or pro-nuture in any extreme of one against the other, these are just some of my rambling thoughts of my nurturing experiences as a mama.

Some days I feel like I'm winning at this game - I'm raising the most awesome, smartest, most tenacious child in the UNIVERSE! Other times I stress - should she have more structure, how do my actions and choices impact her negatively, am I doing okay here? I'm sure others of you have similar struggles! Lately I've been working on being kinder to myself and looking in that rear view mirror and saying, "good job Fawn! look at that happy, friendly, flexible babe, you did something right!"

Falling Down The Rabbit Hole

Welcome Back! I have taken a two year hiatus from this blog as I struggled with my transition from nanny-hood to mother-hood.  #thestruggleisreal! ;) There were moments I felt embarrassed, guilty, ready to close it up in failure. But something sparked my interest tonight: can I revive this baby? And what would I talk about? Believe me, I have a lot to say, but it's not all entirely "newsworthy."

So here we are...

Recently I have been working through my struggle to accept myself. As a nanny I felt confident, competent, and in control; as a mama I feel inadequate, immature, and insecure. This is not a recent problem I have, but lately I have been much more aware of my negative inner self talk. I know I'm not the only mom who battles with feeling judged and in competition with other moms (if you've never had this issue, please tell me your secret!). But I do not want my insecurities to define me! [and yes, my loyal readers, friends, family: I know you all love me, etc - this is about me needing to find that inner care for myself.]

At an Easter Egg Hunt early this year I was looking around at all the other moms who were so "put together" with their perfectly straightened hair, manicured nails, and beautiful leather riding boots. [insert rabbit trail: I don't even like the feeling of these riding boots, they don't fit my calves well, I don't find them comfortable, but for the love of God - I am so jealous of how they look on others and that everyone has a pair except for me. Oh wait, I have some, stuffed in the back of my closet because I hate wearing them.] Anyhow, I was caught comparing myself instead of enjoying this beautiful moment with Genevieve as she stared out over a field of colored eggs, which she was happier to look at than to pick, but we managed to snag a couple before they were all gone. Finally I snapped out of it and said to myself, "You are 30 years old, time to start loving yourself!"

I've had to repeat that phrase to myself many many many times since that egg hunt. But I am making it my goal to change my dialogues. Some of the words that I am focusing on right now are "Enlightenment" "Growth" "Curiosity" "Liberation" & "Beauty."  I'm envisioning this blog to be a place where I can share my journey of accepting myself as a mom, wife, friend, and cat owner. (Yes, there will be cat posts as I even have a emotionally complicated relationship with my feline).

Welcome to my inner ramblings. Don't all run for the proverbial door all at once!

Nanny Fawn Has Been Punked!

By whom you might ask?  None other than little Miss Genevieve.

I have many years of childcare experience: babysitting since I was 11 years old, 4 years of summer camp, 3 months in an orphanage in Haiti, and 6+ years as a full time nanny.  And while that experience has been somewhat helpful as a new mommy, nothing could have prepared me.

While working for other families you learn intimate details about their life, like it or not.  They can try to act as professional as possible, create guest accounts on their computers, not invite you to personal birthday parties, etc.  But you still learn a lot about them.  As a nanny (CONFESSION), it's hard not to judge.  You observe from an outward prospective what works and what doesn't and it is easy to suggest or demand that this or that be done instead. 

And so it has been true for me.  I would listen to a mom whine about how her children won't stay in their own bed at night, and in my head be rolling my eyes thinking, "just make them!"  Or I would hear dad complain that their child was misbehaving all the time and I'd say to myself, "be consistent with discipline!"  And while I still stand behind those statements, I now have a greater awareness and more compassion for the difficulties of being a parent and the multifaceted insanity that comes with raising little humans.

It's easy to say that I had many expectations going into parenthood.  Genevieve was going to be exclusively breast fed till 1 year old.  Genevieve was going to sleep in her bassinet for 3 months and then be sleep trained. Genevieve was going to be on a consistent daily schedule.  etc etc etc. 

It's hard to admit (vulnerably) that this is so much harder than I imagined.  I am freaked out of my mind that I've ruined her for life and she's only been alive a short 10 weeks.  Sometimes when I put her in her crib for a nap and she's peacefully awake in there by herself, my heart aches and I feel a guilt that surpasses logic. In my head: she's lonely! she feels abandoned! I must spend every waking moment showing her my love!  As for my agenda, breast feeding is SUPER HARD!  Babies come with their own schedules and they are incredibly stubborn.  And finally, forget the bassinet, I'd rather have her in my arms! Or god forbid on her tummy lying next to me. *gasp* I broke one of the ten commandments.

All of this to say, I've been duped.  Punked.  It's nothing like I thought it would be, beyond what I could imagine, and everything I want.  As I've made this transition into mother hood I've begun to realize that I don't know as much as I thought I did.  Sorry for acting like a know it all for so many years.  ;)

Talking Your Child Off A Cliff

Has anyone else noticed that there are some whackadoodle parents and nannies out there?  Don't take this personally unless you are one of "those" people.  C'mon you all know the ones I'm talking about.  Those crazy people who let their kids do things you would never dream of allowing your child to do!  How dare they?  Don't they know they are setting a bad example?!

I'm sure we've all been on either side of this equation.  And lately I've been hearing a lot of, "But why can't I, Nanny Fawn?  Those kids are doing it!"  So then I'm posed with a dilemma.  Do I let Lil' Rap jump off the cliff just because all the other kids are doing it?  If I'm not going to allow it, what's my reason?  He doesn't really let me off the hook when I say, "Because I said so."

It's likely that now as we enter the pre-school to kindergarten state and Lil' Rap has more adult rule setters in his life, he is going to be getting mixed messages.  He may be allowed to do something at home (such as growling like a maniac dinosaur) that he's not allowed to do at school (he frightened the teacher with his roar).  So how do we teach our kids the difference and explain to their curious minds the reasoning behind our rule/boundary setting madness???

When I'm in these situations I start with:

"Is this a safety risk?"  The other day we were waiting in a line for the Nature Museum and there were some boys 7-10 years old climbing and running down a steep hill filled with tall grass weeds (the kind that cut you).  Now for boys 7-10 who are more in control of their bodies and understand that there is a bit of danger involved with maneuvering around tall weeds that cut, this activity is somewhat harmless. But for my 3.5 year old who will likely lay down on his belly and attempt to be a live bowling ball knocking down the weeds like pins, probably not so much.

So then I move into my next phase:

"Prepare for battle!"  Most likely a child isn't going to simply take your "NO" for a "NO."  In their minds (I don't know why, consult a psychologist) they hear, "Negotiate."  "But those kids are doing it!"  "I'll stay right in this area!"  "I will be very careful!"  "I promise, Nanny Fawn!"  It's heart wrenching, annoying, and meant to break down your defenses.  Stay strong!  I promise in the end it's so much easier to put up a fight now than to deal with the negative ramifications of giving into their desires when you know it isn't safe or good for them.  Believe me, would you rather spend your day cleaning the bloody scrapes off their face?  Uh no.  And if you think this is a "good life lesson," let me tell you, these "lessons" don't stick.  Your child's memory, no matter how intelligent they are, will not remember, they will inevitably try to do it all again in a month or so.

After you've won the battle, the teaching isn't over:

"Our rules are different than their rules."  It is so important that we go back to our children and explain ourselves and our reasoning, hoping that someday they will comprehend and some day they will be able to make safe and reasonable decisions.  Why should you expect this?  Because you taught them how to process!  In the above scenario, I got down on Lil' Rap's level and I explained it all to him.  "Dude, they have different rules than we do.  Some kids will get to do things that you aren't allowed to do because it might not be safe for you or because I want you to learn how to do different fun things.  That hill is way too high for you and those other boys are much older.  Someday, when you get to be that old, we can find a hill for you to run down."

Most of the time this ends our discussion.  Occasionally I have to repeat myself over and over and over again.  But the important thing is, you engaged with your child, you gave them concrete reasons and taught them how to think through something.  I believe that eventually, the more you do this, the more you train your child to your "way of doing things" the easier this whole process becomes.  It took me two minutes tops to go through this scenario with Lil' Rap, he knows me, he knows how far he can push, and I hope he appreciates that I saved him from looking like Scar from the Lion King for the rest of his life.

Feel free to message or comment with any questions or support you might need!

Tales of Spring Break

Who's idea was it to go to the Aquarium on a free day during Spring Break?  I'm not always as smart as I seem.

I expected it to be busy ... but I underestimated the sheer popularity of this plan.  After driving around looking for parking for 20+ minutes and standing outside in line for 30+ minutes (in a line we found out was 3 hours long) we abandoned our plan.  Thankfully we were able to transition to the less popular museum next door without having to adjust our parking situation.

However, our second option was still seemingly as crazy as the first.  Lines, Lines, and more Lines with 3 boys aged 4-8.  We made it through one exhibit before one of the boys knocked his head on something and had a cut, black eye.  Off we go to the first aid center!  By this time it was lunch and we stood in yet another line to eat very bad for you McDonalds.  After filling our three rambunctious boys with sugar, salt, and fat we decided it would be more fun to sit outside and just let them run.

So basically after 3 hours of lines, we paid $22 (in parking) and $35 in bad food for our kids to run on hills filled with goose poop.

That's the kind of day we had.  How's your Spring Break going?