Author Archives: admin

Wonderful but grumpy

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20120523-235600.jpgI had such a great day. My boys and I had a quiet morning before heading out to Poolesville with my mom. We met my dad for a nice lunch, and were joined by two of my sisters and my step-mother before going out to see my horses, and some great friends, for the first time in over a year. Despite the rain which hit us with a downpour as soon as we left for the barn, it was wonderful to pat my sweet horses again. I even got a nicker of recognition from both Cricket and Ellie (which was heartwarming and just plain awesome). I was so happy to see them again, and to see, with my own eyes, how well they are doing while I’m away. We all got a bit soggy while out visiting with the horses, but it was fun to see Benjamin tentatively approach the horses for a visit, and to see Liam march right up and pat their noses.

After communing with the equines, we all went back to my dad’s for a fun evening, complete with a great dinner. The boys got to run around and play while I got to visit with a lot of my family.

It was really a treat — exactly the kind of day I was looking forward to when we planned our visit home. (And all of my parents’ collective ability and willingness to happily spend the day together is something I will never cease to be grateful for and amazed by.) But . . . we had a long day, and Poolesville is an hour away from my mom’s, and by the time we got home, I was exhausted and grumpy. So, I was tired, and grumpy, and my kids were tired, too. But, I’d had a wonderful day, and my boys were such good sports about being toted from one side of the county to the other. With 90% of my brain (or more) I was filled with happiness and gratitude for the amazing day I just got to spend with my family . . . but then there was the part of me that was grumpy and irritable.

It sucks. I know it does. I know there’s no excuse, nor really even any good reason, for me to be in a bad mood at that moment. I know that whatever part of me that is grateful and happy is pretty much overshadowed, to everyone around me, by the part of me that ends up stressed out and overtired. I should focus on the good day we’ve had, assess the current situation, make the decision to skip anything non-essential, and get my boys into bed with a smile on my face. I *know* that’s what I should do, but today, I couldn’t quite manage it (my mom helped, which was great, but I still couldn’t quite do it). It’s like I know what I should do, but I just can’t manage to hit the override switch and actually do it. So I end the great day on a slightly sour note, and I hate it.

I had a great day. I really, truly did, and I wouldn’t have changed it if I had it to do over again. But I ended the day tired, stressed and irritable, and I feel like I really let my family — my kids in particular — down by not keeping myself in a good frame of mind.

Chocolate chip cookies and paused conversations

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I’ve always heard people talk about how, with family and close friends, you pick your conversations up right where you left off — how, when you really know someone, the passage of time does nothing to alter the intimacy of the relationship.  But, in my life, I haven’t often been away from people I’m that close to, and this week, I’ve been overwhelmed by this feeling, again and again.

I noticed it with my family when I first got home.  Although their presence is extra precious to me, and I am so grateful and gleeful to be with them that their faces seem almost luminescent, once we’ve been together for about 30 seconds, it truly feels as though only days have passed since we last saw each other.

We talk, we catch up, and we discuss what has transpired since we were last together, but the feeling of closeness and of comfort in each other’s company is unaltered.  It’s so familiar, pleasant and effortless to be with them.  The time that has passed doesn’t change that at all.

I’ve been experiencing this with my family this week, and then, today, I got to see one of my dearest friends and her children.  Our kids ran and played together, and we talked — exactly as we would have a year ago.  In fact, we joked that I really had very little to “catch her up on” — since she’s been reading the blog, she pretty much knows what’s going on with me.

I’ve always felt really lucky that I have such good friends — people who I have known for decades and am still close to.  Experiencing the constancy of such deep friendships is really something special.  And having her bake and bring me my most favorite chocolate chip cookies in the whole world feels pretty special too.

License to drive

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There were so many things to do before we moved to Vienna.  There was so much packing and organizing to be done, so many people to see, so many details and so much paperwork to take care of.

A bunch of it just didn’t get done.  I meant to renew my passport before leaving the States (which obviously didn’t happen) and I really wanted to renew my almost-expired driver’s license before I left.  It’s possible to drive in Vienna (in much of Europe, actually) with only a valid US license.  And, if you have a valid US license, getting an International license is pretty straightforward.  Plus, of course, I wanted to be able to drive when I got home, and I didn’t want the hassle of having to renew my license once it had expired.

But, it wasn’t a high priority, since we wouldn’t even have a car, so it didn’t get done.  Now that I’m here in the States, though, it would be really nice to drive.  And, when we’re home for our longer trip in July, it’ll be really important that I can get myself, and the boys, around to where we want to go — especially once Dan heads back to Vienna.  And (potentially most importantly) if I had let my license lapse for more than one year (coming up in July) I would have had to retake the written and driving tests — which I certainly don’t feel like doing.  Thus, I decided to make it a priority to replace my license on this trip home.

So, this morning, my dad came and picked me up and brought me to the DMV (which is nostalgic, too, since he took me to get my learner’s permit, and my original driver’s license, so very many years ago).  I was prepared for a morning of frustration and woe, but I have to give the Virginia DMV credit — we were in and out in less than 45 minutes, and that was with the computer having some issue with processing my picture (or, as my dad was joking, since I broke the camera — ha ha).

So, now I’m legal to drive again, although not in any real hurry to do so.  I don’t know that I ever noticed before how many cars there are around here, how big they are, and how fast they all go.  I’m so out of practice as a Beltway driver, since I haven’t driven in at all in a year and have only even been in a car a handful of times recently.  It’s all kinds of craziness around here, but now I’m legally permitted, again, to contribute to the insanity.  Watch out!

Sunday in Maryland

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This morning, we got up (surprisingly unearly — just before 6:00 — the kids are almost always up by 6:30 anyway, even without a 6 hour time change, so that’s pretty impressive). We had breakfast, took showers, went for a walk, played with the boys, had lunch, took naps (albeit longer and more soundly than is typical), hung out, had dinner, and ran some errands.

20120520-232231.jpgIn short, we had a Sunday, much like we would have had in Vienna, except for the wonderful addition of some people we don’t get to spend enough time with. We got to spend nearly the entire day with Grandma, and Uncle Pete and Uncle Adam came over this afternoon, played cars with the boys, and joined us for dinner.

The weather here is perfect and beautiful, and the company is fantastic. We’re having a wonderful time here in Maryland, and we spent a simply lovely Sunday together.

Safe passage

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Well, we made it. We’re here, safe and sound.

My kids are amazing. They did over 9 hours on a plane today on their very best behavior — and even hours after we arrived, at dinner, Benjamin remembered his “please”s and “thank you”s. We haven’t had a single meltdown yet. Liam slept for over 5 hours of the flight.

I am so, incredibly tired. My alarm clock went off 21 hours ago, after only a few hours of sleep, and when it did, I was in Austria.

I am so thrilled, grateful and happy to be home. It is so wonderful to see my family, to enjoy their company, and to watch my boys play with some of the most important people in their lives.

Life is good. I am tired. More tomorrow.

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The last minute

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Whenever you travel, there are certain things that can’t be done until the last minute.  When you travel with kids, this is magnified by an order of magnitude for each person.  At least.

There are toothbrushes, hairbrushes and combs, still to be used; favorite blankets and toys that can’t be snuck away until the very last moment; shoes that are still being worn; electronics that are still being played with — they’re all still on my list.  And then, since I’m likely to completely space out on important details when I’m stressed about getting out the door, I have a long list of things to do (such as take out the trash and close the windows) and things to remember (like the fact that the orange stroller is the one we’re bringing with us and how many suitcases we have to bring along — my mom once had to debate with Dan & I about the fact that we had one fewer suitcase than we were saying we should have with us . . . and it took her the better part of 10 minutes to convince us she was right).

I’m trying to keep things calm and normal around the house prior to our departure.  I know the kids will do best if things aren’t hectic or stressed and if Mommy isn’t irritable or freaking out.  But it’s hard to keep myself in a relaxed mode when I’m surrounded by unfinished to do lists and the clock is ticking down.

We are, now, down to only those last-minute things.  That which can be packed, is packed (except for all of Dan’s stuff, which is another immense frustration entirely).  That which can be done, is done.  Our attempts at a normal, on-time evening are completely out the window since it’s now 9:30 and the kids aren’t in the bath yet (bedtime is theoretically 9:00, although we almost never make it).  All that’s left, really, is to try to keep myself in a decent frame of mind while I finish up the loose ends.  It helps me to remember that this time tomorrow, we’ll be home!

Being the person I’d like my kids to be able to grow up to be

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My children are going to learn what I teach them.  They are going to be shaped most profoundly by the examples that I provide.  I can say whatever I like, but it’s what I DO that they are going to see, and what they are most likely to emulate when faced with a similar situation.

Early this morning, after bottles for the kids but before getting in the shower, I checked my email and saw a message saying that a blog post of mine was being included in Huffington Post’s “best of the parenting blogosphere” roundup for this week.

Wow.  Ok, that’s pretty cool, and I couldn’t help but bet a little excited about it.  It’s validating that someone who knows about blogging chose my post, but also really scary because now people are actually going to read my blog — and they aren’t people who already know and generally like me.

After getting over the initial shock and frantic scrambling to check out my site for any glaring grammatical errors, my next instinct was to totally downplay this and try to convince myself that it’s not a big deal.  My natural reaction was to make sure not to make too big of a deal out of it, not to get overly excited and not to act in a way that’s going to bother anyone.  My fear of seeming egotistical made it hard for me to feel appropriately excited about it.  It made me really uncomfortable, and at first, I didn’t want to share the news with anyone, for fear of coming across as boastful.  (In short, I really don’t know how to navigate the very wide waters beyond “pretend nothing out of the ordinary has happened” for fear of drifting out into the region of “obnoxiously prideful and egotistical” even though I know there’s a lot of space between the two.)

But, then, I had a thought that comes to me a lot lately.  If this happened for Benjamin, or Liam, how would I want to see them experience it?  Would I want them to hide it for fear of looking arrogant?  Or would I want them to enjoy the moment, celebrate it and share the good news with their friends and family?

So, I went ahead and got excited, posted to Facebook, emailed my family, went out for an unscheduled Starbucks break . . . and then got back to life as usual because these bags for our trip to the States aren’t going to pack themselves.

And, it was great.

I find it so much easier to judge whether or not a reaction is appropriate by imagining my children doing the same thing as adults one day, than it is for me to evaluate myself.  When I was trying to determine what the “right” reaction was, I couldn’t get over my fear that I would make someone uncomfortable by enjoying the moment too much.  When I imagined it as Benjamin experiencing it, I didn’t care if his happiness bothered someone (that would clearly be their problem) and I would be so disappointed if he let fear or self-consciousness get in the way of his joy.

And since I know that how my children see me react to my own successes is going to teach them how to react to theirs, I had to get over my own hangups and just enjoy it.

Nothing has ever motivated me more to work on myself.  (I’ve got plenty of material, so there’s lots of room for improvement.)  My kids are more likely to follow my example than to be shaped by my words, or by the words or actions of others.  That’s true of how I react to success, failure, frustration, exhaustion, anger, sadness and absolutely everything else I experience.  They will see it, they will learn it, and when faced with a similar situation, it is most likely going to be their first natural reaction.

So, what kind of example am I setting?

When faced with a situation that I don’t know how to handle — or when I know my way of “handling” it is less than functional — I find myself thinking, “What would I want my kids to do?”  Would I want them to feel ok with celebrating something good?  Would I want them to apologize if they did the wrong thing, or hurt someone’s feelings?  Would I want them to feel liberated enough to express themselves, even if it bothered someone else?  Would I want them to take care of themselves, even at the expense of manners or propriety?  Would I want them to make healthy choices for their minds and bodies?

I can see those things SO CLEARLY for them.  I want them to take good care of themselves.  I want them to celebrate with joy and make amends with honesty.  I want them to feel sadness without embarrassment.  And they are more likely to do ALL of those things if I do them, too.

I am learning to do all of these things for their sake, but at tremendous benefit to myself.  I am able to be kind to myself because I want that for them.  I am able to be patient and flexible when life happens because I want them to be able to take things as they come.  I am able to let go of the details and of a goal of perfection because I want them to be free from the torment of anxiety and perfectionism.  I remember to find the joy in the moment because that is the best thing I can show them how to do.  I focus on what is really important because they will only see themselves as important if I show them that they are.

It’s not enough for me to feel these things.  I have to DO them.  I have to be their example.  They will be who I am, not what I say.  It’s really scary, but it’s certainly excellent motivation for self-improvement.

Raindrops on roses and cuddly naps

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We all have a cold.  (Or we each have a cold.  I’m not sure.  Benjamin seems obsessed with the fact that Dan, Liam and I now have “his” cold, so maybe we all have the same cold.  Whatever.  We’re all sick.  I feel like I write about us being sick a lot.  I do.  It’s B’s first year in school, exposed to other kids, and I’m sure there’s extra virulence because the kids all have foreign cooties.)

B is actually almost better.  He got sick first (hence, it’s “his” cold) last week and now he’s just about over it.  Which is good news, because at least we have some idea of the course of this illness.  Liam, however, is congested, a little fevery and super grumpy.  And he wants to sleep all the time — which would be GREAT (nap time for Mommy!) but he only wants to sleep when we’re holding him.  Since Saturday night, either Dan or I has been up, holding Liam while he sleeps, nearly every minute of each night.  I estimate that I’ve gotten about 15 hours of sleep total since I got out of bed first thing on Saturday morning.  Ouch.  I don’t think this has done very much to improve my immune system’s ability to overcome this cold.

It’s cloudy and rainy here, and a little cool — none of which particularly make me, sick as I am, want to do anything other than wrap myself in a blanket and park myself on the couch.  (My new roses, however, look lovely all covered in raindrops, so that’s a plus.)

Exhausted and ill, we decided Dan should take a sick day from work today.  Our goal was to get some rest.  It didn’t work.  Liam fell asleep in my arms while Dan was dropping Benjamin off at school, and refused to be moved or put down.  He woke up in time for lunch, and we had just settled the boys down for simultaneous naps this afternoon when the doorbell rang, setting Bailey to barking and waking both tired boys (and both tired parents) out of their naps.  Sigh.  We tried.

But, after out much-anticipated new high chair for Liam (one with actual machine washable cushions, which we are very excited about) was accepted from the delivery guy, we insisted the boys lay down again for the remainder of an hour.  (That’s our rule — naps don’t actually have to involve sleep, but they do have to involve laying down quietly for at least an hour.)

Benjamin wanted to curl up with me.  I love (love love love love) getting to curl up and sleep with my kids.  Neither of them has ever been particularly interested in napping with us — they both are happy to sleep while we’re holding them, but only if we’re sitting, not laying down.  (Benjamin was a terrible sleeper for the first couple of years.  I tried everything.  I so badly wanted napping together to be the answer, but it never worked.)  So, when they want to, it’s a special treat.

I got Benjamin all tucked in to my bed and encouraged him to close his eyes and rest.  He really didn’t want to, but he tried.  After a little while, though, we ended up talking and cuddling instead of actually napping.  It was wonderful.  Getting to snuggle with my babies is one of my most favorite things.  The highlight for today was when he said,  “Thanks for being a wonderful Mom.”  Happy sigh.  I can retire now.

We cuddled for an hour (the last 15 minutes was spent answering, “How long until I can get up?” every 45 seconds) and then he was off to run and play.  It was really a wonderful way to spend an hour.  It was so nice that I almost didn’t miss getting to actually sleep this afternoon.  Almost.

Anticipating Reverse Culture Shock

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So, I’m realizing that this whole experience of being back at home is going to be a little strange.  In writing yesterday about all of the things that I’m missing so much about home, I started thinking about how foreign all of those things seem to me now, and that got me thinking about how weird it is going to be to do all of those things and about how weird it’s going to be for those things to be weird.

There’s so much I’m not used to.  I’m not used to driving.  I’m not used to being able to find all of the products I’m looking for in a store, and I’m not used to being able to read all of the labels.  I’m not used to conversing, as a matter of assumption, in English.  I’m not used to smiling at complete strangers or having them smile back.

It’s going to be weird.  I’m going to be weird.

I’m excited to get to do all of these things that I haven’t done in over year, but I’m aware that I’m not going to do them quite right.  I’m gong to be just a little off in just about everything I do.  I’m probably going to stare more than I’m supposed to.  I’m probably going to fumble for words when starting a conversation.  My sentence structure, even in English, has definitely changed, and I know my pronunciation has become Austrianized (which, I’m pretty sure, is a word I just made up).

It’s really a strange feeling.  I’ve spent a year being very aware of how different I am from the norm here, and being a little self-conscious at how I stand out.  Now, I’m preparing to visit home, and I’m realizing that’s all going to be true there, too.  I’m just going to go home to the States and be exactly who I am here, just in English more of the time.

And that’s actually pretty cool.  A year ago, I went from being generally comfortable in my home environment to being utterly awkward in a new environment.  This year, instead of being dictated by my surroundings, I’m just going to be me — slightly awkward but generally comfortable anyway.  That’s just who I am right now.

Surprise!

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We’re coming home.  Soon.

We’ll be home for just a week, but still, it’s a week.  At home.  In the United States.  Where my family lives.  My wonderful, loving, super-duper, amazing and so very missed family.  Most of whom I haven’t seen in over a year.  Most of whom haven’t seen Liam since before he could talk, walk, crawl or even roll over.  ALL of whom I haven’t seen in FAR too long.

Home.  Where people speak English and where we know and understand the customs (or, at least, we used to).  Where there’s a Starbucks and a McDonald’s on every other corner.  Where you can pick up the phone and call and someone will deliver pizza, or Chinese food, or Thai food . . . even on a SUNDAY.  Where people make eye contact and smile at each other and make superficial conversation in grocery store checkout lines.  I’m so happy and excited that I just might cry.

Dan has a business trip, which we’ve known about for a month or so, but the details of which didn’t come together until we were in France.  We just decided that we actually can make it work for the boys and I to accompany him, and we’re going to.  I can’t believe it, but it’s actually going to happen.

It’s going to be a little crazy, I realize.  It’s a long trip, and the kids will be worn out and jetlagged when we arrive . . . and Dan & I will probably be worse.  And then, Dan will spend 5 of the days working and commuting.  We’ll only be home for 7 days, and I know it will go so quickly.  Mostly, I can’t wait to see my family.  I want to catch up, and visit, and watch them get to know my kids again.  I also can’t wait to see my friends.  I want to visit my horses.  I need to get my (expired) driver’s license renewed.  I want to go shopping.  At a CVS.  And in a mall.  That’s open after 6.  I want to stand in a grocery store and marvel at an entire aisle filled with tortilla chips.  Or fabric softener.  I want to drink a Cherry Coke.  And I have about 2 dozen more things on my “I want” list, and I know I’ve already more than run out of days.

I have to remind myself that, as excited as I am by this trip, we will be back again — soon.  (We come back in July for a longer visit.)  Dan will barely have a moment to socialize at all, I suspect.  For this visit, the priority will be on catching up with my amazing family that I miss so much.  I haven’t really let myself feel how much I miss home until now.  It’s so overwhelming that I don’t think the next few days can pass quickly enough.

Except that I have so much laundry and packing to do.  (But, you know what?  They sell stuff in the US.  And they have *24 hour stores* that sell things.  And I know how to find all of it.  At least I used to.)