Like Father . . .

Like son.

Miles has a new fascination: the computer.

The best thing about having a mommy who is a teacher is that she is always finding new ideas for me to entertain Miles.  Over Thanksgiving, she introduced me to an awesome  website she found: Fisher-Price's Online Learning Games.  It has games like Peek-a-boo for infants and toddlers.  The beginner games only require that he push the keys - any keys, in any order.  Each key press results in something happening on the screen, which makes him giggle.  He can sit there and play for several minutes at a time, and he's learning to be gentle with it.  When he gets excited, he tends to bang on things, but he is discovering that when he does that with the computer, it gets taken away.  It's teaching him self-control, and cause-and-effect.

And it's adorable to watch him sitting at a tiny laptop - it's just his size.

Yes, I am a Bad Mommy.  My son is 14 months old, and I am already encouraging him to play video games. Next week, we'll move on to other dangerous activities, like watching TV and climbing on tables.

Oh, wait . . .

Hair

Miles had his first haircut today.

We got out the safety scissors,* and sat him down in his rocking chair, and I trimmed his hair, while Daddy entertained him.  He wiggled a lot, but I managed to get it (relatively) even.

 I really didn't want to cut it.  I had this whole irrational thing about cutting his hair for the first time.  It was cute, and shaggy in all sorts of weird places.  None of it was even, but it didn't matter, because he was a baby and it was adorable.  As far as I was concerned, we could have left his hair alone forever.

And then I saw this picture.  And I knew I had to cut it.

That's right.  Somehow, in my sentimental motherly concern for the beautiful hair on my boy's head, I totally missed the fact that he had:

A Baby Mullet.

Don't get me wrong.  Mullets have their place,** but my child's head was not it.  I had visions of the other toddlers at playdates pointing at him and laughing, derisively.  I imagined him saying, in his adorable little gibberish-filled way, "Hey, guys, iz coo.  Iz all bizness inna front and party inna back."

And the other toddlers would all give him the side-eye and say, "Wuz wrong wit dis dude?  Wuz born in wrong decade?"***

So, I steeled myself, and trimmed his hair.

And then cried at how grown up he looks.  Repeatedly.

* I'm not even kidding.  We couldn't find the regular ones. . .

** In the past.  Where they belong.

*** Yes, toddlers speak like LOLCats.  Where do you think the cats learned to speak?

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.

Battles & Blessings

I am privileged to be a part of a wonderful community of mommies.  These ladies are supportive, friendly, honest, and kind.  Some days, they are the only thing that helps me keep my sanity.  And I've never met a single one of them.

When I was planning my wedding,* I found this wonderful site called The Knot.  It was a great resource for brides-to-be.  I used it to find vendors, get ideas, and most importantly, check items off of their handy-dandy checklist.  Once I was married, I checked out their post-marriage sister-site, The Nest, but it was never really for me.  However, when I found out I was pregnant, I discovered the third part of their little conglomeration:

The Bump.

It had articles and checklists, which I loved reading, but best of all, it had a forum-based community of other women who were going through exactly what I was.  Almost two years later, some of the women I met there have become friends.  Many more have become acquaintances that I sometimes pester with questions and random vents about my life.**

My favorite board is the Stay-at-Home Moms Board.  It's full of women that are intelligent and level-headed, and is refreshingly free of the drama that seems to plague many of the other boards.  Don't get me wrong: sometimes it's fun to read the drama, but when I have a serious question, I'm heading straight for "my board."

One of my favorite traditions on that board is the weekly "Battles and Blessings" post.  It makes me think about not only the rough patches I've had, but also the little joys that come with being a mom.

So, with my overly-long explanation out of the way, here is my first installment of Battles & Blessings.

Battles:

• Miles and I both have colds, so we have both been cranky and tired all week.
• Naps have been almost non-existent all week.  And with them, any 'me-time' I usually manage to squeeze out during the day.

Blessings:

• One of my bestest friends found out that she is pregnant.  I am so excited for her, and I cannot wait to see what an amazing mom she will be.
• My forum boards, especially the stay-at-home moms board.  It has kept me from going entirely insane.
• Dominic is turning out to be a terrific addition to our family, and the transition, so far, has been much easier than I might have expected (knockonwood).
• I have been able to spend two nights this week in the company of friends who truly accept me as I am, faults and all.
• My wonderful and amazing husband has worked extra hard to make sure I get at least some time to myself when he gets home from work.  He has taken over bedtime duty and overnight duty a few times this week, which has made the week so much more bearable.
• Christmas is coming, and with it, the opportunity to start some fun family traditions with Miles.

I'm sure I have a dozen more blessings to write up, but Miles has awoken crying.  Again.  So, farewell for now, and enjoy your weekend. :)

*It seems like a lifetime ago.  Has it only been 3.5 years?

**Because it's Oh, So Tragic, ya' know?***

*** I have no idea where Miles gets his dramatic flair.  Why do you ask?

^

Friday Photos!

Morning Face.

Silly Face.

Hanging out with Mommy at the Zoo.

Playing with Aunt B - Who just found out she's going to be a Mommy!!!

Aunt Stacey and Miles are excited for Aunt B!

Busy Day, or Reasons Today's Post is Crappy

Brief update:

• Yesterday sucked.  Sick toddlers are no fun.
• Today is better.  Less snot, and far less screaming.
• I have to try and finish everything that I didn't do yesterday.

Today's To-Do List:

• Tidy living room in preparation for Shakespeare night. - Check!
• Sweep and mop floors, cuz they're getting gross. - Check!
• Laundry, because nudity is bad, mmkay? - Started.
• Vacuuming.  No one likes fuzzy feet.
• Grocery shopping.  Food is good.
• Finish Christmas shopping.  Presents are good.
• Cash check. Money equals food.  And presents.
• Make an appearance at the office Christmas Party.  Because it's the polite thing to do.
• Make potato soup for supper.  Crowds of people demand food.
• Relax with a cup of cocoa and read Act II of Twelfth Night with the Shakespeare crowd.  Because after this day, that will be the only thing I will be capable of.  Except perhaps staring at a wall and giggling in a far off way that displays my obvious insanity.

Sorry, no time for a real post.  Look for Friday Photos tomorrow!

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! :)