Just. . . Breathe. . .

I have to keep saying this to myself this week.  See, we sign the papers on our new duplex tomorrow.  Yep.  Ten days before Christmas, and I'm going to be rushing from signing the lease to get to the office Christmas party on time.  I have laundry that needs folding, a kitchen that feels like a disaster (though I'm certain I've spent most of my week cleaning it), and so very much that still needs to be packed.

I've been unable to sleep all week.  I lay down at night, and my mind begins to race with the list of things I need to accomplish tomorrow, and the longer list of things I failed to accomplish today.  When I finally drift off, I spend the entire night locked in a dream where I am trapped somewhere (it's somewhere different every night) and have to spend my dreaming hours trying to figure out how to escape.  I wake exhausted from the effort, and start my day more sleepy than when I went to bed.

Last night, it all began again.  The racing thoughts.  The feeling of being trapped.  The near-panic of trying to do everything.  The stress of moving.  It all came rushing in the moment I laid my head down.

And that's when I gave in.  I took a deep breath, centered myself, and began talking to God.  See, I have this impossible urge to try and deal with everything myself.  And it never works.  I have to admit that I can't do it alone.  So, laying there, in the dark, breathing deeply, I told God everything.  And I asked for help.

For the first night in a week, I slept like a baby.  A dream began with Miles being taken from me - the catalyst for several of my 'trapped' dreams.  But I wouldn't allow myself to be trapped this time.  Instead, I walked straight up to the man who had taken him, sized him up, and knocked him flat with one blow to the face.  I picked up Miles and cuddled him, and slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

I will get through this week.  Even if I have to punch it in the face.

Battles & Blessings

Battles:

• Short week.  Lots to accomplish.  Zero energy.  Not a fun combination.
• Trying to carve out time to spend with my husband and my son.
• Sleeping troubles.  For me, this time.
• Super-clingy Miles.  Probably because we've all been so busy.
• Super-stressed Maestro.  Nothing new. :)

Blessings:

• Bits of free time.
• Two days off this week, in return for 12 hour work days.
• Spent at least part of every day with Miles.
• Found a few moments to read and blog.
• Great new book.
• Support from family and friends, when even I didn't know I needed it.
• Toddlerhood.  I love it.  It is awesome.  The end.
• Re-connecting with a childhood friend.
• Glorious weather.
• An overall feeling of contentedness. <happy sigh>

Juggling

I've always been one to balance several activities at once.  In high school, I did Debate, Forensics, Theater, Orchestra, Choir, and Scholar's Bowl.*  All in the same year.  And once I graduated, I continued that lifestyle.  I worked full time, took a full load of college classes, and participated in whatever struck my fancy.  While I was student teaching, I took it easy, and balanced life as a newly-wed with all of the planning, teaching, and homework that goes with student teaching.  Once that was over, I searched until I found the Festival, which immediately consumed every waking hour of my life.  I had always been good at juggling, and Festival was no different.

When I was pregnant, I expected that adding a child to our crazy lives would add another 5-6 balls to the dozen or so I was already juggling - a difficult task, sure, but one that I would master in no time.  I was confident that before long, I would be able to balance Miles with the rest of my life.  To extend the metaphor, I imagined the cheers and applause as I seamlessly continued to juggle, no matter what life threw my way.

And then Miles was born.

Juggling ceased.  I dropped every ball except for Miles, and still, I couldn't keep up.  I could feel the balls pelting me in the head as one by one they came crashing down.  And then PPA decided to toss in a few bowling balls, just for giggles.  I huddled protectively over my baby, tried my best to pick up the pieces, and hid from everything else.

It took over 15 months, and some strong medications, to get rid of the bowling balls.  Since then, I have slowly, slowly, started to pick up the balls, one by one, and begun to juggle yet again.  The balance isn't perfect.  And I drop the ball far more than I once did.  But, I'm juggling.  Slowly, and with much effort and help, but I'm juggling.

And this time, I am cheering myself on.

*Yes, I'm a nerd.

Bad Mommy. Bad Wife. Bad Blogger.

I guess it all goes hand-in-hand. :)

This week has been crazy-busy with work, Festival commitments, temper tantrums, and meltdowns.  Which leaves little time for things like taking Miles to the park.  Or buying a Father's Day gift for Patrick.  Or blogging.  Oops.  At least you have Friday Photos to look forward to.

If I have time to post them . . . :)

Can't Keep Up!

Too many awesome things have been happening recently, so the updates you have read all week are usually at least a week old by the time you see them.  In an effort to catch up, here is another of my (in)famous lists.  I think I shall title this:

Cool Things That Have Happened This Week:


Saturday: Stacey and I hosted a baby shower for our dear friends Bethany and Shelby (whose mysteriously-named little boy is due in August).  The games were hysterical.

The cake was beautiful and delicious.

And the parents-to-be seemed to enjoy themselves.

All in all, a good day.

Sunday: I slept for an indecent number of hours, then spent hours playing with Miles, before wrapping up with dinner with Paul.  Not a bad day at all, I must say.  Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures worth sharing. :(

Monday: Took the Boy and met Bethany for brunch.  We had a marvelous conversation, and Miles was (for once) perfectly behaved the entire day.  It was glorious.  Even better, he fell asleep when we got home and napped for over three hours.  Then, we went outside to play, and he showed off his belly button:

Tuesday: Playdate at the Children's Farm with several friends and their kiddos.  A beautiful, relaxing trip which was sprinkled with lots of praise for my once again perfectly-behaved son.  I'll admit, I basked in it. 

Yes, that is my very active toddler, waiting quietly and patiently for his friends to arrive. *mommyglow*

Wednesday: After a week of playing around, Miles and I decided it was time to actually do some work.  Miles ran around playing nicely while I worked for almost an hour and a half straight, before he started getting cranky.  When asked what was wrong, he signed, "Food, please," so we ran to Arby's and grabbed some roast beef sandwiches (which he inhaled).  After lunch, he crawled up in my lap, gave me a huge snuggle-hug, and asked for his pacifier.  When I asked if it was naptime, he floored me by responding, "Yesh" and signing 'please'.  I rocked him for two minutes before he passed out.  I once again beamed with the delight of mommy pride. :)

And a bonus list, just for you loyal readers, who love them oh, so much, I'm sure. :)

Good Things I Discovered This Week:

• Something is working.  Whether it's medication, my renewed commitment to taking care of myself, a widening circle of wonderfully supportive friends, or maybe just the onset of an easier stage in Miles' development*, I have actually felt like a good mom a lot this week.  And that feeling has allowed me to remain calm and collected over things that usually throw me into a tailspin.  Hurray for a sense of normalcy.
• I have started to enjoy being around other people's children again.  Since I became pregnant with Miles, this has been a continuing struggle for me.  There are a few kiddos who have managed to endear themselves to me, but for the most part, I have had little interest in any kid except Miles.  This week, I found myself delighting in the antics of strangers' children for the first time in recent memory.
• I can be around babies without having a panic attack.  Even tiny ones.  And I think they're cute.  Which is good, since every freakin' woman I know is having a baby this year.
• Rather than freaking out at the thought of leaving Miles for even a few hours, I have started planning outings without him.  I have a date night with my charming hubby tomorrow, and a girls' night next weekend.  And I'm excited about it.
• And most of all, I've realized that, for the first time in a long time, I am content.  Thanks in no small part to all of you, who have supported me on this journey, and allowed me the room and given me the push I needed to get here.  I am so blessed to have each of you in my life.  Yes, even you, random internet stranger. ;)

*Please, oh please, let this be true!!!

Long Weekend

I hate making weekend trips home.

Let me clarify.  I love going home.  I love visiting everyone, and spending time with family, and being in a place that holds my entire childhood within a thirty-mile radius.

I hate that there never seems to be enough time.  Going home for a weekend means leaving after Patrick gets home from work on Friday night, and arriving after Miles' bedtime.  It means spending a day and a half seeing everyone we know.  My mother.  My father and grandfather.  My sister.  Patrick's parents and sisters.  Patrick's grandmother, who is sweet enough to give us crash space every time we visit.  Needless to say, there's just not enough time to spend quality time with everyone.

And this weekend, we went home for their Renaissance Festival, accompanied by Bethany and Shelby and Stacey.  Which meant that most of Saturday was reserved for that.  I ended up getting to spend time with my mother, but only because I wasn't feeling well, and didn't want to be a downer at the Festival.  But I never got to see my dad, my grandpa, or my sister.  Which stinks.  And I got to see my in-laws, but only very briefly, since they were all busy running the Festival.

Add in the fact that I spent the weekend battling a sinus infection (which was diagnosed yesterday), and that Miles was uber-clingy and whiny for much of the weekend, and it became a less-than-ideal weekend.

I miss everyone so much, and I just wish there was a way to spend as much time as I want with each of them.  But, for now, I have to get as much as possible out of these whirlwind weekends.

<sigh>

Work

Okay, so I promised an explanation.  Like a week ago.  I guess I'd better follow through.

After literally months of hemming and hawing and fence-sitting, I have finally made the decision to return to work at the Festival.  I will not, however, be returning as a performer, unfortunately.  As much as I love performing, something had to go.

It's no secret that last year was really difficult for me.  Stressful.  Frustrating.  Tear-inducing.  Overwhelming.  And those were often the good days.  Bad days ended with me curled in a ball, covered in tears and snot,* and wanting to quit everything.

Simply put, I bit off more than I could chew.  Entertainment Assistant. Director of the kids' group. Performer. Mother. Wife. Friend.  I can't do it all, much as I would love to.  Everything ended up being done in a half-assed sort of way (sorry, but there's no other way to put it).  I still have contracts from last year that were never filed.  Rehearsals for the kids' group were poorly organized.  I was rarely fully present for performance rehearsals.  I felt like a failure as a mother, as a wife, and as a friend.  It had to stop.

Some things, however, cannot and will not change.  I will always be a wife and mother.  Those things have to be priority over everything else.  And I need to be a good friend, or risk the inevitable tide of guilt whenever my amazing friends do amazing things for me, even knowing that I don't always have the time/energy/forethought to do the same for them.  It's the Festival stuff that had to change.

Directing the children's group could not go away, though.  Last year, I worked with nine amazing young people, each of whom had more talent in their little fingers than I will ever have.  Each one learned to sing, dance, and entertain a crowd of people, in a venue that's famous for being impossible to hold an audience.  Through the rehearsal process, I watched these nine children grow and mature in so many ways.  These kids are the oddballs, the ones who will never really fit in to the popular cliques in school.  Some of them are entirely okay with that.  Others feel lonely and sad.  But each of them found a place where their differences were showcased and praised at the Festival.  There is no way I could take that feeling of belonging away from them, no matter the struggles I face in my own life.  So, that was always a given.

Which only left two options: give up my job, or give up performing.  And honestly, in the end, it came down to logistics.  Performing requires tons of rehearsals, which take up my evenings and weekends.  That would leave me home with Miles all day, everyday, but leave no time to spend with my husband.  Working takes up my days, providing Miles with a safe, friendly environment in which to play, and leaves our evenings free to spend as a family.  In the end, choosing to work just made more sense.

So, there you have it: the overly-complicated, angst-ridden explanation of my decision.  Was it thrilling?  Wasn't it worth waiting for? :)

*I'm an ugly crier.  It's no secret.

Return to the Office

Friday, after Miles' first nap, we made the 20 minute trip out to have lunch with Maestro.  By the time Maestro had to go back to work, Miles was getting restless, so we returned to the office to run off some energy.

As we entered the front door, we were greeted by every.single.person who works there (granted, that's like, 5 people), all cooing over Miles and excited to see him.  Miles broke into the biggest grin I've seen in awhile, did a minor amount of pontificating in gibberish, and then ran straight to his Uncle Jim to be picked up.

Eventually, I managed to get past the foyer, so I could put my things down. :)

Miles spent the rest of the afternoon running from one office to the next, visiting each person in turn.  He sat with Karla and Ashley as they ate their lunch.  He played with Ashley's dog, Hunter.  He ran in and had random conversations with Roger.  But mostly?  He could be found in Uncle Jim's office, just hanging out.

(Meanwhile, I re-organized my office to get ready for the impending year.  But no one really cares what I did, right?)  :)

After a couple of hours of that, Miles came back to me, crawled up in my lap, and fell into a deep sleep.  What followed was the longest, most restful nap he's had in quite awhile.  I am happy to report that my office is in some semblance of order, and Maestro and I have a plan of attack for the season.  And Miles returned to his car seat without an ounce of complaint, talking the entire way home.


[In case you can't tell, I have decided to return to my position as Entertainment Assistant for the 2011 season.  To balance that, however, I have opted not to perform.  More to follow regarding that decision.]

Honesty

It's rough being a mother.  It's harder than anyone ever tells you.  And even if someone had told me how difficult it is, I wouldn't have believed them.  Believe me.  It's rough.  And the worst part is, I have spent 14 months trying to figure out how to make it look easy.  Trying to focus on the good, and not talk about the difficulties.  Now, I'm going to be honest.

I am overwhelmed.

That seems like such an innocuous statement.  But literally, from the day Miles was born, I have had only a handful of moments where I didn't feel entirely overwhelmed by him.  My brain is constantly in overdrive.  My body is exhausted.  I am, in a very real sense, entirely overwhelmed by my son.  In every way possible.

I am overwhelmed by his energy, which is endless.  I am overwhelmed by his refusal to sleep, even at 14 months old.  I am overwhelmed by his screaming, which makes me want to pull my hair out and scream myself, because I don't always know how to calm him.  I am overwhelmed by his stubbornness, his outbursts, and by his sheer intensity.


But that's just the bad stuff.

I am also overwhelmed by his laugh, which fills my heart with such joy that it wants to burst.  I am overwhelmed by his mischievous grin when he tickles me.  I am overwhelmed by his squeals of joy, and by his soft sighs when he sleeps.  I am overwhelmed by his unconditional love for me.

Mostly, I am overwhelmed by trying to be the best mother for him at every moment.  And I am overwhelmed by the fact that I'm not always.

I don't like to admit it, but it's true.  I am not the mother I want to be.  I make mistakes, and I lose my temper and have to walk away, and I don't always know how to comfort my son.  I want to be better, for him, because he deserves nothing but the best.

But I am imperfect.  And that is okay.  I am trying to learn this.

So, there you have it.  I am a mommy.  And I am overwhelmed by my child.

And truth be told, I think most mommies are.

Lessons of Mommyhood

Lesson #106: Never take a sick toddler anywhere.  Especially somewhere that requires waiting.  Even if it's just for a minute.

Today was Dominic's first vet visit since coming to live with us.  We wanted to get him checked out, and establish a relationship with a vet, just in case we need one in the future. (We had one for Lilo, but we weren't crazy about him, and his office was 20 minutes away.)

I got there a few minutes early, anticipating the inevitable barrage of paperwork that comes with going anywhere new.*  We arrived, and were immediately taken to an exam room and handed a clipboard and a pen.  I rolled up my sleeves and dove into the paperwork frenzy.

It was a single page.  Front only.  Lots of white space.

Which meant that I now had several minutes to wait in the tiny exam room with a Very Worried Dog and a Very Cranky Toddler.  Not a good mix.  Dominic laid under my feet, whining, probably expecting to be left here or worse.  Miles, meanwhile, ran laps around the room.  In the space of two minutes, he asked for Goldfish and a book, pushed the doctor stool around the room a half-dozen times, threw his Goldfish angrily at the floor and tried to take the dog's leash from me.  And then I wiped his nose.

All hell broke loose.  He threw his head back, arched his spine, and wailed.  He punched and kicked and tossed and turned like a fish flopping around on a dock.  Snot and saliva flew.  Eardrums were pierced.  Bruises were inflicted upon an unsuspecting and helpless Mommy.

Who was still trying to hold on to the dog and keep him calm.

Blargh.

In the end, the vet came in, Miles calmed down, the dog was given a clean bill of health, and we went home.  Where Miles promptly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from his first-class tantrum.  And I fell into a heap in my chair to blog and watch the neighbors call the cops on each other repeatedly.  For an hour.

Ahh, it's so relaxing to be a stay at home mom!

* Seriously, there's a reason I don't go to new restaurants anymore.  By the time I finish the paperwork, I'm famished! :)

Labels

You may have noticed a new button to your right, there.  That is a button I am very proud of, even though I really didn't have to do much to earn it.  Yet.  Yesterday afternoon, my blog was accepted by Top Mommy Blogs!  I am very excited, as this has the potential to bring in some new readers, which is apparently what this whole "blog" thing is all about.*

To make their listings more efficient and standardized and easy to navigate, the Mysterious They have separated their mommy blogs into different categories: working moms, stay-at-home moms, couponing moms, giveaway moms,** moms of multiples, and so on.  And so, once more, I find myself trying, unsuccessfully, to define this life I live.

I am every inch a Working Mom.  I work at an office, almost every day, and I earn a paycheck.  I could write volumes on my job, but trust me, I am definitely a working mom.  But, I find that I don't really connect with other working moms very well.  In my experience, one of the primary topics of discussion amongst working moms is daycare - the process of choosing one, the guilt that comes with leaving your child, etc., etc.

Which is one thing I have no experience with, because I have been incredibly blessed with the ability to bring my child to work with me.  Every day.  My experiences and struggles revolve around trying desperately to talk on the telephone while responding to an e-mail, and entertain Miles so he doesn't scream bloody murder and disrupt the entire office.  I work, but I'm also my child's primary caregiver, 24 hours a day.

Which is why I very much relate to the Stay-at-Home Mom.  I am the one who is primarily responsible for the care and feeding of this rare creature known as the Miles Monster.  I am also the one who does the majority of the housework, the cooking, and the errands.  But I find that I have a hard time connecting with other stay-at-home moms, too.  Stay-at-home moms tend to talk about the loneliness of being alone with their children all day, every day.  When I visit the SAHM forums, there is always someone reaching out, wishing for just an ounce of adult interaction.

And here is where I stop being able to relate, as well.  I go to the office every day.  My job is to interact with other adults all day long, often to the point that I come home wanting only to interact with my child for awhile. To stop being an adult, with worries and stress and deadlines and reports, and just be with my kid, rolling around on the floor, being silly.  I am a Full-time mom, but I also work.

Which is the reason I refer to myself as a Full-time mom.  No other label seems to fit. :)

Disclaimer: I mean absolutely no offense to either Working Moms, or Stay-at-Home Moms.  I know I have overly simplified your motivations and choices.  I assure you, it was only to make a point about how I feel I fit (or don't fit) into those categories.  Every mom makes the choice that is best for her children, her family, and her sanity, and I would never wish to offend any of you.

*I can't believe I missed that memo for the past year. . . :)

**Moms who do giveaways, not moms who get given away.  Cuz that would just be awkward. :)

The Right Words, at the Right Time . . .

So, I know, I know. I keep promising more blogging. And I'd really love to do some.

Unfortunately, life disagrees right now. Patrick is now in rehearsals for Phantom's Feaste (where he plays the hero, Van Helsing - yay!!) three nights a week. Fridays are reserved for prepping for Festival, Mondays for the recovery. And on the weekends, I walk around in the mud in a stupidly-expensive court gown, talking in an English accent to every three year old who thinks I'm a princess.

Really, life could be worse. It just couldn't be much busier. And I'm tired. So incredibly tired. We move next week, and I have officially packed 6 boxes of books. And that's it.* I have projects that have been pending for weeks and months, friends who would like to see me some day, family who would probably appreciate a phone call, and a blog that I see on the rare occasion that Miles actually sleeps long enough for me to eat and type out a post.

And all of this makes me reflective. I have now spent an entire year trying to figure out how to juggle everything. And I still feel like I'm dropping things left and right. Work? It gets done, in a half-assed sort of way. Housekeeping? Pretty much non-existent, until it gets too disgustingly horrible and I stay up until midnight on a Friday scrubbing every surface in sight. Projects, writing, all of that me-time? Yeah, right. The only thing that gets constant attention is Miles. I pride myself on the fact that I will drop everything to play with him (or whatever) when he needs it. Even so, there are days** that I try everything, only to have him scream at me until I sit him in his crib to scream while I turn up the radio and pick up cheerios. And while I know that sometimes, there's just no other way, I still feel like a Bad Mommy when it happens.

And the fact that nothing else is getting done doesn't help.

So, I was feeling pretty depressive about being a Bad Mommy. And a Bad Assistant. And a Bad Wife. And a Bad Housekeeper. And pretty much, just a Failure.

And then, yesterday, at Festival, Verna (honestly, one of the sweetest women I've ever been lucky enough to know) said something that helped more than she will ever know:

"Tabitha, I don't know how you do it all - you take care of Jim, and the Festival, and Miles, and you balance it all. And you make it look easy."

I know, on a very real level, that it's not all perfectly balanced. And I know that it's not easy. But Verna's compliment tells me that perhaps I am, once again, expecting more out of myself than is reasonable. And I'm still managing.

I just need to find a way to be a bit more reasonable, and a bit less crazy-busy. I'm not sure exactly what that means, or really if there's any point in typing this out at all, but just knowing that others do not see me as a Failure helps my heart rest a little easier.

If you made it this far, thank you for listening to me ramble. I promise the next post will be more about Miles, and less about me. :)

Whenever I find the time to write again . . .

*And to be entirely honest, I did that much this morning. . .

**Like today.

A Boy and A Dog . . .

My poor little heart is breaking.

I have to move Lilo to a new home. Yes, even in the midst of the chaos that is my life, I still have to move her because she growled at my baby. My baby who loves dogs. Seriously, this kid has ridiculous amounts of love for any four-legged animal, especially dogs.*

And Lilo wants nothing to do with him. And Miles is scared of her. With good reason.

Today, Jill brought her Australian Shepherd, Buddha, to the office with her.** As always, Miles was fascinated. He kept crawling into the Sales office to look at Buddha. Finally, Miles worked up enough courage to touch Buddha (with adult supervision on both sides, of course).

And Buddha licked his face. And Miles giggled with delight. I could hardly tear him away from the dog for the rest of the day. And when I managed to, I would have to chase him down two minutes later, as he crawled at top speed toward the Sales office, calling in his adorable little voice, "Daw! Daw! Daw!" [Translation: "Dog! Dog! Dog!]

It was beautiful, this love between the boy and the dog. I only wish that beautiful love existed between Miles and Lilo. :(

*Except for my grandfather's poodles. But, apparently, they're not dogs. Miles is quite adamant that they are "kitty!"

**I work in the coolest office ever.

Excuses

So, I'm a bad blogger and haven't written much lately. I have excuses, but really, that's all they are. Excuses.

And here's another in the long list of excuses: I'm not blogging today because I'm going home to visit family. My birthday is next week, and I need to see my family. Call it my birthday present to myself.

And someday, maybe, I will begin blogging more regularly. Until then, I shall use the Power of the Cute to prevent you from showing up at my door with torches and pitchforks insisting that I blog.*

*Though, I have to admit, that may be kinda fun . . . :)

My Life in a Nutshell

Work. Festival is getting crazier by the minute. I'm being paid now, which means more days at the office, and fewer spent at home in relative relaxation. And our Cinderella Ball is happening this week. And Academy is the week after that. And then Gypsy Revel, Media Party, Site Day, and our Festival opening. Pretty much one after the other.

Oh, and I'll turn 27 sometime in there.

Life. It's also getting a little nuts. First, there was the mold in the ceiling. In the baby's room. And dealing with the apartment office being absolutely not pleasant about it. Then, there's the kerfuffle of dealing with a doctor's appointment that they called to confirm five times. When they left a sixth message on our answering machine, we assumed it was more of the same. We showed up only to be told that the last message was actually informing us that they had cancelled the appointment. It's really not much more than a silly inconvenience, but life seems to be riddled with them lately.

Lilo. I don't know how else to say this, but she has to move to a new home. She growled at the baby. A couple of times. We've tried training, but she's only gotten more cranky as Miles gets bigger and more mobile. So, we are in the process of acclimating her to a new home, with older, calmer children. I feel like I'm abandoning a pet that has stood by me for years, but honestly, I could never forgive myself if she bit Miles, especially since I know now that that's a possibility. I was so hoping they would be best friends. To see her avoid him, and to see him shy away from her, breaks my heart in so many, many ways. I will probably write more about this, as I am really having a hard time with it.

Grandma. Wednesday afternoon, I received a call from my mother. Grandma's Hospice nurse had just left, and had told Mom to "gather the family". He anticipated that Grandma would be gone within 48 hours. We left three hours later, and have spent the last five days with Grandma. For the most part, she's fairly out of it, but for a few brief moments on Friday, she was entirely coherent, and understood entirely what was happening. She asked to see Miles, and when he came in, he laid his head against her, and babbled quietly at her for several minutes, as she smiled at him and patted his back. By Saturday morning, though, she was sleeping, and has not yet woken completely since then. We came back home today, because we had to, but we are painfully aware that she could go at any moment. I don't know what else there is to say about that.

Miles. Through all of this, he is, as always, our light and our joy. He lifts our spirits when nothing else can. He knows how to throw us all into fits of giggles by doing nothing more than showing us a cheesy grin. He knows how to melt our hearts by cuddling with a dying woman he barely knows, giving her more comfort than any of us know how to. He knows how to make us smile when we want to cry, and how to make us celebrate the little things.

Like taking his first steps. Tonight, only moments after we returned home. He stood up to show off for Daddy, then took one faltering step toward him, and then another, and a third. I'm sure he would have taken even more steps, but I couldn't contain my excitement, and I let go a squeal that scared him into sitting down. I have never been more proud of anyone in my life. He is truly an amazing boy. And I am so happy that I get to call him mine.

Not Friday Photos. Sorry.

I know I'm supposed to post pictures for Friday. And I will try later, but right now, I don't have the latest ones on my computer, and I'm too tired to deal with it. You may get Saturday photos, instead. Sorry.

Miles is being freaking adorable, as usual, and also, freaking hyper, which isn't, necessarily. Every time he's fallen asleep today has been from sheer exhaustion. He will literally squirm and wiggle, even as his eyes droop to closed. On the plus side, that means no more kicking me as I try to convince him to nap. On the down side, though, it means he's getting over-tired, and apparently, isn't sleeping well enough to compensate. He stays pretty zonked for up to an hour after waking up.

Honestly, I'm too exhausted to think straight enough to write more. So, good-night unto you all.

Putting the "Home" in Stay-at-Home-Mom

I just realized, I may not have told you something relatively important.

I'm not working right now.

It's a long story, but basically, they can't afford to pay me until July. So, I'm here at home enjoying the stay-at-home part of being a stay-at-home-mom.

Again, not that I'm home all the time. In the past couple of weeks, we've taken walks around the neighborhood. We've been to the park a couple of times. We've been to the grocery store, and the fabric store.

But, really, for the most part, we've been home. A lot. And surprisingly, I LOVE it. It's so much less stressful to be at home, where I can set my own schedule. If Miles is having a rough day, it's okay to put off some of the housework. Or to not blog for a day. Or whatever.

I am really finding that housework can be very enjoyable (if not far more complicated) when there's a baby underfoot. Vacuuming has become a game where Miles will chase the vacuum across the floor. He sits in his high chair and noms on lunch while I do dishes. He climbs my legs while I wipe down counters. I'm starting to feel like we're hitting our stride together. I can finally do the things I want and need to do without ignoring him or waiting for his naps.

And I'm finding that I'm less stressed. I have few deadlines, and most of those are self-imposed. There are no phones ringing off the hook constantly. Some days, the phone never rings at all. My house is cleaner. My blood pressure is probably lower. I'm spending less money on gas and food. And I'm spending more time with my son.

I could definitely get used to this. :)

Court Day!

It's Court Rehearsal Day!!!

And I have no gentleman. :(

The guy who had been cast to play opposite me for the season has decided to drop out. I don't know exactly why, but I'm sure he had his reasons.

The end result: I may be flying solo for the year. Or as solo as any court female ever does. Especially one with a servant. A mute servant. You know, the more I think about it, the better this is sounding. :)

Anyhow, on another note, I get to try on my lining for my court dress tonight! Annie is amazing. I dropped off the fabric less than a week ago, and tonight, she should already have the lining all done for me to try on! I am SO excited!!! I can't wait to see how this turns out!

I'll post pictures, if I remember to get them!

Put Your Hands In the Air!

Can you tell that the roller coaster of my life has just plunged down that first, terrifying, sky-high hill?

Festival rehearsals started this week. After spending last week preparing for Special Olympics, and the weekend in Wichita for it, I came back to a messy house, a teething baby,* and a week full of rehearsals.

Tuesday was our first court rehearsal, where I got to meet all of the wonderful new court members. I may just love this court - they're all kinda awesome. Last night was Apprentice meeting - a required rehearsal for all first through third year performers. It was also awesome. In fact, based on the people I saw last night, I know this is going to be an amazing year. And tonight is Kancheskera rehearsal. It's time to start putting together a gypsy kids' show! :)

Meanwhile, I've been spending my days with Miles at home, helping him to return to some semblance of routine while I wait for word from on high that I can finally start getting paid for my job. It's probably best that I haven't been at the office, because seriously, this kid has been sleeping like crazy. And in between his 2-hour-long naps, he wants to sit on the couch next to me, nomming on cereal and occasionally laying his head on me. Putting him on the floor is acceptable for a few minutes at a time, but goodness forbid that I walk out of the room.

It really could be much worse, acutally. Having four teeth coming in simultaneously would turn most babies in to those shrieking monkeys that you can always hear from outside the zoo. Miles is quiet, and really hasn't cried much at all. He just wants to be close to Patrick or me, cuddling close for a bit of comfort. And sleeping. A lot. Which should equal more regular blog updates, but I'm trying to spend that time returning my house to some semblance of order, and preparing for each night of rehearsals as they come.

Speaking of which, I have dishes to do, a character survey to write, and lesson planning to do for tonight's rehearsal. So, adieu, until I find five minutes to post again! :)

*Seriously. Four at once. What is with this kid? He doesn't do anything by half. . .

The Great Divide: Part 2 - Choosing Sides

On Monday, I talked about this problem I called "The Great Divide". The distance between Working Moms and Stay-at-Home Moms. Now, let me explain why I care so much about this issue.

The Great Divide widens every day. And I find myself caught between the two worlds. I am a working mom - I work outside of the home, and (at least for part of the year) I contribute financially to our income.* I leave the house most mornings and go to an office, where I spend my day at a computer, just like so many other working moms out there. But, I am also a stay-at-home mom - I am the primary caregiver for my son. I spend my time balancing housework with interacting with my son.

Like all new mothers, I look for ideas, support, and understanding from others who are experiencing the same things as me. But, it's harder than it should be. Because I don't feel like a working mom - I'm with my kid all day long. And I don't feel like a stay-at-home mom - I'm rarely at home, truth be told. Which is why I describe myself as a "full-time mom". But there are no forum boards, no blogs, no support network that I can find for "full-time moms".

That said, I have been lucky enough to be a part of a forum board for stay-at-home moms who have been kind enough to overlook the fact that I am also a working mom. I find a lot of advice and support on this board, but I still feel like the outsider in the group. Like I don't really fit in.

Unfortunately, if that's the case, I don't really "fit in" anywhere. I am an anomaly. A very lucky anomaly. Few have the opportunity to walk with a foot in each world, wearing both the working mom and the stay-at-home mom hats at the same time.**

I just wish that The Great Divide didn't exist. After all, we're all moms. We all deal with some of the same issues: colic, teething, illnesses, potty training, raising our children to be the best people they can be. We all struggle. We all have bad days. And we all love our children more than we ever knew was possible. Why, then, can't we support one another, regardless of where we spend our days?

Wouldn't that be a lesson worth teaching our children?

*Granted, I also help spend a lot of that on Festival, but that's beside the point. :)

**And I'm sure that, like anyone wearing two hats at the same time, I probably look a little like a goober sometimes. But that's not really the point. :)