I read this blog tonight. The writer is a local acquintance and I found her blog when she sent me an email telling me about her upcoming playgroup schedule. Man. I read and read and read. She is a fantastic writer (she writes for the newspaper). And I found myself facinated by someone I’ve never had any interest at all in. I mean, she’s super nice. But I never thought I’d spend my evening wrapping myself around her words and stories. And I feel a little bit inferior.
She’s probably closer to 40. Around here there are a lot of the wholesome hippy types, and she’s definitely one of those. So I know that we’re birds of a different feather. I mean, I don’t think I would be interested in listening to her stories about homeopathic remedies and butchering elk. And I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be very interested in my stories about my new hair extensions and how those new acrylic nails I got put on popped off in 24 hours. But though she’s different (or I am), I think she seems like a really neat person.
She’s obviously a really awesome momma. Sometimes I envy moms like that. The one’s who don’t worry about house chores and play with their kids all day. The mommas who take their kids for walks on the Colorado trails, leaving their cell phones in their car, and walk miles and miles with their infants strapped to them and their preschoolers jutting on and off the trail. The mommas who talk calmely and lovingly to their children who listen contently. Their children are mild mannered because they are mild mannered mothers. And then there’s me… … …
I love and adore my babies, obviously. Hello!? How could I not? They are the most fantastic kids on Earth. But I’m not wholesome. I try… you know… I’ve got chickens, and I cook healthy, and I grow a garden, and I make soap, and I sew, and I bake bread… But I’m no Molly McButter. I’m not the Mom of the Year. I holler. I get frustrated. I spend too much time cleaning or doodling online or reading a book when I should be on the floor building forts or playing dolls or coloring. I would never just head for a Colorado trail by myself in the snow with my kids just to sit and eat a peanut butter sandwich at the top of a mountain. There are mountain lions and mean men and, well, it’s cold and I don’t like snow. Darnit. I like watching Spongebob and Dora and taking my kids to McDonalds for a hormone and grease smothered lump of cow flesh. I’m not very good at playing sometimes. I sit down to paint with the kids and my eyes start roaming… to the breakfast dishes, to the syrup all over the kids faces, to the mud by the entryway, to the mess around the woodstove. And I can’t help it… I want to clean and fold clothes and check my email and thaw some chicken for dinner.
But I love them soooo soooo soooo much.
I do want a break from them sometimes. I’m not playful enough. I don’t always nurture their little imaginations. Sometimes my patience is lacking. But I’m completely and totally head over heels. How do I forgive myself for not being the wholesome hippy momma? When I look back, will I have regrets? Did I give them enough memories? Should I have taken them for that adventure on a Colorado trail?
As I’m typing this, Caleb is lying in my lap, sound asleep. He is always in my arms and it frustrates everyone in the family just a little bit. But I held all of my babies constantly. I wouldn’t have done it different. It’s so bonding. It’s not Caleb’s fault he’s the 4th kid and mommy has soooo much to do. He just wants love. If I put him down, he pitches a fit. I love his attachment to me. Right now he’s sound asleep but his eyes are cracked just a sliver and he’s peeking at me through those slits. Occassionally he smiles or giggles in his sleep, especially when I smile at him as he sleeps. And I know he’s dreaming about me… he can’t even keep his eyes off of me, even in his sleep. It’s little things like that that move me and help me understand that, no, I’m not a wholesome hippy mommy. I’m just me. I love them and they have to know that. There’s no way I could feel this much fullness in my heart and them not feel it too. And part of being a good mommy is seeing my flaws and trying always to be better. It’s good to watch other moms and get a reality check. It’s good to feel inferior sometimes. It’s good to feel guilt. If you use it. Use it to be better. Even as adults we can’t be stagnant. We have to see our flaws and where we’re lacking. It would be selfish to quit growing and trying…
New Years Resolution: Leave my comfort zone and take my kids fishing this summer. Eat at least one peanut butter sandwich on the end of a trail over looking the Colorado skies. Color more pictures. Use that fancy Nikon camera more to take pictures of their syrupy faces and boogery noses. Tell more stores. Build more forts…
Let’s do this, kids. Let’s make 2010 the best year we’ve had together yet!
I am having so much fun, y’all. I am. Life has this ebb and flow thing. Even when things are kind of tough– financially, child rearing wise, or whatever, life is still good to us. I’m so grateful for so many things– healthy babies, a beautiful home, being able to pay the bills, being able to feed our family… Someone has smiled upon us, not a moment goes by that I don’t know that.
Noah was having some behavioral stuff for the past couple of years. I never talked about it here because it’s one of those snooze topics. But there have been several points in my mothering of him that I’ve thought he was ADHD in a severe way. He is a BEAUTIFUL and AMAZING little person. But he’s given us a run forour money, for sure. I’m pleased though that over the last 3 months, Noah has done some changing. He really really has. It’s like night and day. His doctor told me she thought he was an “immature 3-year-old” and that really kind of summed it up for me. She was right. It sounds weird, how can a 3 year old be immature? Or how could he not be immatureat 3 years old. But what she was saying is that he’s just immature for the social level of a 3 year old. I’m so grateful that he’s starting to catch up. He’s a fun little guy!
Bella is amazing. She’s just amazing. She is the apple of my eye. She’s a chatty little thing, she’s got my kind of humor. And man, she’s so mature and smart and bright. She’s only got a few more months at home with me before she heads off to Kindergarten. Ohhh it breaks my heart. I’m going to miss her with my whole heart and soul. It’s bittersweet, you know?
Austin is my buddy. We’ve been hanging out A LOT lately and I love it. He’s just so fargin’ funny, I can’t stand it. He makes me roll. I adore him. He’s an amazing friend and such a good kid. He makes me so proud.
Caleb is growing something fierce! He’s eating some solids now and loves it. He’s in the 70th percentile for his age– almost 5 months. I’m proud to look at his rolls and fluff and, for the first time, know that my body solely fed this healthy sweet fellow. He’s my first baby that actually was a good nurser, once he got it figured out. I’m grateful for that because he is my last baby, I love the nursing bond, and it burns mad calories to boot. He’s a momma’s boy, he is such a lovable & happy baby, and he looks soooooooo much like Jeremy. It’s like having a pocket sized Jeremy– only fluffier and squishy and a little cuter. 
Jeremy is so amazing. What a man! He’s such a loving husband, so thoughtful and intuitive. I’m madly in love. Still. Always have been. I look at him and swoon. He had his cholesterol checked a few weeks ago and his levels came back high. So, we’ve been working together to get it down. It’s good for us because we’re making lifestyle changes and it trickles down to our kids. We’re all eating really well. And I can’t stand the thought of feeding him things that hurt his heart. It’s weird, I thought I could love him more through the foods I made. I never thought that all of my baked goodies and cheese dripping casseroles were hurting him. Now I’m having to come up with new ways to show love– not by making his favorite cookies but by making him eat his oatmeal every morning (he calls it “cruel gruel”). I love his heart. Gotta take care of him so I can still swoon over him for another 40+ years…
And Stepherz? Well, I’m losing weight. I’ve lost 14 pounds over the last month by eating healthy. I have 10 more to go to get back into my teeny jeans. I’m at 145 right now and feeling great. I just cut back on the bad stuff and I mean NO bad stuff– no more cheese, no cakes, minimal bread, no potatoes, only brown rice, no cereal, no sugar, fat free everything, and lots of lean meats and veggies. My biggest weakness was cereal before bed and now I eat nothing after 7 pm. I have a big, hot, delicious cup of English tea if I feel a little hungry at night. I eat oatmeal for breakfast too (although unlike Jeremy, I love it). I feel fantastic!I’m getting STOKED about my trip to NC. I’m sooooo soooo excited. I’m falling off the diet bandwagon for that week, I’m sure. But that’s alright. And lastly, I’m starting a modeling school in April. I’m so excited and preoccupied with it. I lie in bed at night thinking about advertisement pitches, slogans, the materials I need, how big to make my classes, where to hold the classes, finding a good photographer, writing the handbook and curriculum, doing the paperwork to get my certificate… It’s all coming together though, I’m almost done with my business plan and curriculum, and I’m finally losing enough weight to put my heels back on and practice my runway. SOOOO exciting! The truth is that I’ve dreamed of doing this for years. I never talked about it. Then the economy got so bad that I got discouraged, figured I’d be too old to do it by the time people have money to spend again. But then Jeremy, out of the blue, said “Steph, you could start your own modeling school and really make it successful.” My dream sprouted wings when he said that! It may have hiccups because of the economy, but I’m up for the challenge. I have the experience (long story there), LOVED working with teen aged girls when I previously Instructed, LOVE fashion. It’s perfect. I could wait until the economy gets better. But sometimes you have to grab it by the balls and make it happen.
Soooo, I have so much going on, so much positive energy, sooooo much to look forward to. Things in 2010 are looking good. I’m happy, I’m loved, I have this extraordinary family that puts wind in my sails. I have healed relationships with family, I have confidence, I have support. It’s good. It’s alllllll good.
… celebrates her 5th birthday today. Much love to you, Sweet Bella. Happy 5th birthday!
Austin has always been a really easy kid. He was always very compliant and sweet, he never gave me a run for my money. Never mouthy, always did what I asked, never defiant in any way. I have always been grateful for that. He’s my sweet boy. And we are pretty tight. I like talking to him. He’s my friend. Which is why it was particularly hard for me when there was “talk” about him living with his dad. I like my kid and I’ve worked hard. It’s no coincidence that he’s awesome. We had a little to do with that. I’m not in a hurry for him to leave me just yet. I want to enjoy my hard work for a few more years.
When he got back from his dad’s this summer, I felt like he and I had missed out on some communication somewhere. I had thought we were open and communicative with one another. I suddenly felt like, despite my connection with him, that he had perhaps been missing out on something.
So I literally scratched through drawers and piggy banks and I even sold some things on eBay so that I could come up with a down payment for his braces. I wanted to be able to come up with that money without setting our family back. His dad probably thinks that his child support should cover it. But the child support is accounted for. It’s used, every dime of it. There’s not a cent left over from it every month to “save” or to put towards braces. But I did it, I made it work. Now he’s got the braces.
But then I thought, shoot, maybe he hates his little po-dunk school. Maybe if I could get him into that fancy school in a nearby “city”, then he would be happier, have more friends, have more opportunity. So I did back flips and jumped through a few hoops and got him into that school. It would work out fine because Jeremy worked in that “city” anyways and he could take Austin to school and bring him home. No problemo. I got Austin a gym membership so he’d have something to do after school until Jeremy got there to pick him up.
I told Austin when he started there that the ONLY string was that he had to keep doing well in school. I didn’t want to see C’s on that report card. And the kid is an A student, so I knew he’d do fine…
What I didn’t think about was sports. And I should have because Austin does play sports and I LOVE that he does. I guess I figured that he would be out of practice around the time Jeremy got out of work. Well, things didn’t go that way. Jeremy would get off of work at 4:30 and Austin would get out of practice at 7:00. So, half the time Jeremy would shoot the shit for 2.5 hours and half the time he would come home and I would go to get Austin at 7. But Caleb didn’t do well being left with Jeremy (momma has the boob, you see) at home, and yet he really didn’t do well for the 45 minute drive into “city” and then 45 minute drive back home (lots of crying. lots.). Not to mention the roads are dark, there are deer, and much of the time the roads have snow and ice on them too. I don’t mind driving in these situations, but I don’t exactly like having the baby out in it. Often there is no cell coverage and, well, hit a deer on a Colorado highway at night and not be able to call for help. No. No, no, no. Not good for a woman and her infant.
Ok, so we were starting to regret that we had moved Austin to the new school. But at the same time we didn’t. He could get scouted by colleges, he could join extracurricular clubs, he could have opportunities that this little town can’t offer. We made the right choice! Right? Well, tell that to Jeremy after he worked all day and has to sit in the car for 2.5 hours in a school parking lot waiting for practice to be over. He wanted to come home and soak his tired bones in the bath, to have dinner at a decent hour, to play with the little ones…
And. AND? There was the games. Forget the practices. When they had Away games, they were FAR away. That’s what happens in small towns. The kids have to travel HOURS to get to other schools to play. So he was getting back from the games (obviously we didn’t take the babies to the away games) at midnight. Jeremy would wake up at 11, sometimes on weekdays, and drive to the school to pick Austin up and take him home. Then they would get home at 1 in the morning or so, and have to wake up the next morning at 5 to get ready for school/work.
I asked Austin every day if he had homework. “No.” “Not tonight.” “Oh, no. Teacher is out sick.” “I did it during study hall.” Or whatever. There was always an excuse for him never bringing school books home. I asked him constantly if he was keeping his grades at A’s and B’s and he insisted he was. I was a little concerned. But I trusted him. He knew where I stood. He knew I didn’t mess around. He knew if he wanted to play sports he had to be able to make good grades FIRST. And he’s in high school now! I can’t babysit him!
Then he started doing weird things like going over to friend’s houses without asking. I don’t like that. I don’t know the kid, I don’t know his parents, I don’t know where he lives, and I don’t even know he’s there until after he’s already taken it upon himself to go without asking? No. I don’t like secrets and I don’t like it when he’s vague.
Finally, it was time for the report card to come. It never did. So I asked him about it and he said he didn’t know when they would come. And I never saw him study during finals week! And he had partial days on Finals week with no practice, but he didn’t tell me that he’d be getting out of school early or not having practice. No. He let Jeremy sit around in town, or let me drive in 45 minutes with a crying newborn in the dark so that he could roam around and hang out and bullshit with his friends. SOOOO unfair. The deception and selfishness of that FLOORED ME!
But then I finally got the report card. Guess what? Two C’s and FOUR D’s! No A’s. No B’s. And the D’s he had were ONE.FLIPPIN.POINT from being F’s! What the hell!?
My heart broke. It did. I was so hurt. I was hurt because he selfishly let me drive with that baby for 1 hour 30 minutes, that Jeremy sat in his truck for hours, because WE HAD A DEAL, y’all! And it all would have been worth it, truly, if he had held his end of the bargain. We would have made it work. We would have kept toughing it out for another year, and he would be old enough to drive, and then we wouldn’t have this RAT RACE so that he could go to a good school and play sports for a good school.
He KNEW he wasn’t keeping his grades up. He KNEW we would have helped him. But he decieved us for months and months. And I’m the sucker.
The truth was that I was trying to make up for something with him by sending him to that school. I wanted to make him happy. And in turn, our whole family paid for it, namely Jeremy. If he went to school here, he would WALK home from practice. I’d see his teachers at the grocery store and they would be able to tell me he had missed some assignments. I would have been able to participate. At the “city” school, I couldn’t even get through to anyone by phone. No one returned calls. There was no comraderie between parents and teachers. There was just voicemail.
Soooo, we pulled him out of that school and put him back in the local school. He isn’t going to be able to play sports until his grades are back up. He’s got to come home and read a book of my choice instead of watching television or playing video games.
Being a parent is so hard. I mean, this was ALL my mistake. My mistake for thinking he was mature enough to handle that freedom and trust. My mistake. I love him sooooo soooo much. But let’s face it. It’s not likely or probable that he’s going to get seen by some big college and get a full scholarship for his athletic abilities. It’s more likely and more probable that he’s going to get scholarships for his grades and his smarts. And since we aren’t rich people, we can’t afford to pay his way through a fancy university, he has to EARN it. No one cared about my grades as a kid. No one helped me, encouraged me, disciplined me, gave me consequences. That’s why I didn’t go to college until I was 25 and when I did, I didn’t get scholarships or assistance! I’m still paying on my loans! So he probably doesn’t know it just yet… But we love him and we want good things for him. We make mistakes. Oh, yes. We do. But the big picture is that we want more for him than we had. And we made enough mistakes when we were young that we know where he’s making his before he makes them.
Ok, had to get that off my chest. He’s back in his old school and he’s doing well. He gets home from school, does his homework, then his chores, then he reads. It’s not as exciting or fun, I’m sure. But he’s adjusting well. And his old friends, teachers, and coaches missed him so much!
You’re college bound, young man. We’re back on track.
