A Few Ups and Downs of Parenting

A funny tidbit:
Last month, I was battling a small cold. After a sneezing attack, Ruby advised me to take a cough drop: “Mom, you can get that thing what Daddy does to make your throat smell better.”

My children aren’t synchronized on their nap schedules: a thing I find slightly vexing. Some days, I may have ½ hour where they are all asleep—uh—in bed. (Ruby doesn’t take a nap most of the time. She has never been a fan of sleep and has boycotted naptime most days for over a year now.)

Even so, I find that I am a much better mama if I have had a break. Therefore, Ruby is not required to sleep, just be quiet in her bed. So, in this break (Haley fussing in the bassinet—hope she’ll succumb to sleep soon, R & C nearly to the end of supposed “naptime”) I’ll quickly post.

This morning, Ruby was playing with her doll. She kept getting it in and out of the crib, rocking on her rocking chair and talking to it about how it needed to go to sleep. I inquired as to what she was doing. She very calmly replied, “I have a baby and she’s 20 months old and she drives me nuts.”

When I watch my girls play “Mommy,” I am often amazed that they are so patient and kind to their dolls, and I wonder where they get that. Their babies are almost always naughty (what fun is it when your baby isn’t?), and I’ve overheard Claire sweetly say, “If you get out of your crib again, you will lose a privilege.”

It really convicts me to see them play with their dolls and set expectations, boundaries and consequences with their “children,” without getting riled up or short of temper. I’m sure I don’t look like that most of the time. Sometimes I watch them mimic me—cringing, one eye closed—afraid of what I look or sound like to them throughout the day. And when they do this with their dolls, I am almost certain that they don’t get it from watching me.

Yes, this parenting role has been challenging, to say the least. Like my dear friend E. and I were discussing a few weeks ago, sanctification is not an elective. I think one of the verses that I find most comforting at this time of extreme testing is Philippians 1:6 “being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” God saves to sanctify—and eventually perfect—His children. Even though some days I see so much sin in my life that upon reflecting on the day I would almost swear I am more sinful than I was 10...5…2 years ago, I can know from God’s Word that if I am His child, the truth is that He is exposing more of my sin and working out His promise to finish what He started. From God’s perspective, I’m not getting worse; I’ve always been this sinful, and am more sinful than I can imagine—I’m glad I don’t know all He knows. I’m so grateful He doesn’t expose all my sin at once!

My friend Josanna was able to stay with us last night, on her way from CA to TX. My girls have such fun with her. I remember when I used to be fun with children, too.

Okay. Naptime’s over. Let the good times begin

You Might be a Mom to Three Short People If. . .

You are grateful for six hours of uninterrupted sleep.

You finish a phone conversation, take off your glasses, then realize you meant to hang up the phone.

There are days that you consider yourself successful if, at the end of the day, everyone is still alive and you got a shower to boot.

Your showers are accompanied by at least one other person, unless you take one at 6 a.m., 3 p.m. or 9 p.m.

Grocery shopping by yourself refreshes and renews you.

Despite your couch looking like this most of the week:

or at best, this:


your husband is just grateful to have something clean to wear to work.

A date with your husband consists of putting the children to bed and zoning out to a movie in the next room.

When someone at the store snidely jokes that you need to figure out "what causes that," you think to yourself: "I'm not sure I can remember."

You marvel at the thought that some people actually need to use birth control at this stage to keep from getting pregnant again.

You congratulate your children for doing things like this:




When pulling into a parking lot, your first objective is no longer to find the space closest to the store, but the cart corral.

A suggestion from your husband that you go to a coffee shop and blog for an hour makes you giddy with excitement.

You can't remember the last time you had both a warm meal AND two free hands.

Upon your infant's cry of hunger, two non-lactating short people offer--and attempt--to breastfeed her.

You let them.

You consider it "a break" to go anywhere with only one or two of your children.

You have found yourself in a public bathroom stall with all three children, holding 2 of them.

Throughout the day, you periodically burst into melodramatic and sarcastic renditions of theme songs from Little Einstein or Super Readers.

You wonder if your brain cells will ever regenerate enough for you to have an intellegent conversation.

You don't remember if or when you've ever had one.

You can tell what time of day it is, based on the cleanliness of your shirt

At bedtime, you can easily identify a half-dozen stains and/or bodily fluids on said shirt.

Almost none of said bodily fluids belong to you.

You are grateful for this.

You lose your train of thought mid-sentence.

It takes a few minutes for either you or your husband to notice. . .

and . . .

It really isn't worth the effort to figure out what you were saying .

Ruby's First Lesson

Today was Ruby's first Tap/Ballet class. And before you start thinking what a terrible thing it was for Ruby to be the only one in regular clothes (and the only one without ballet shoes), please let me explain that it was expressly suggestd by Ms. Deidre, the teacher. She said that with this young age, mothers often get over-excited and buy all the bells and whistles, only to find that their children aren't ready to take lessons. Her advice was to wait until the first class to decide whether we should even sign up for lessons and THEN get the necessary items. The awkward thing about it was that I was the only mother who actually did what she suggested. (I didn't want to literally throw away almost a hundred dollars!)
There's a bonus to Ruby wearing regular clothes: it's easy to tell which one is her!

I am not die-hard into dance for Ruby. But I do think some sort of class will be good for her in many ways (like learning the importance of listening and following instructions from someone other than Mommy or Daddy, and that no matter what others are doing, she must do what she knows is right). I believe this will also provide the opportunity to learn that Mommy does not have jurisdiction over all children, and will not be able to fix certain problems, and that other children may be allowed to do things that she may not do. This is a fundamental lesson for her whole life, I believe. Therefore, it is not "simply" a dance class to me. It is a chance to learn and practice several different things besides dance techniques.

In the tap video, you'll notice Ruby holds on for dear life to the barre. Can you guess she's slipped a few times on the tile at home? (By the way, these are very short videos, mostly for the viewing pleasure of Ruby's 'Lita, who sent her a garage-sale find of tap shoes and a Shirley Temple movie--ingenious!)

Watching Ruby, I think about how I struggle to follow an aerobic exercise video, and hope that she will do better than I in the coordination department. She reminded me so much of myself when she had to stop doing one thing before doing another, and couldn't quite manage to both "fan" and turn at the same time!

And by the way, she didn't seem embarrassed to not be dressed like the others. Thankfully, she's young enough to not notice it too much (and the other girls only noticed for a split second).

So, after class today (after getting an affirmative that she's ready) I asked Ruby if she'd like to take the class. She said "Yes, I'm happy. No, Mommy, I LOVE IT!"

All We Need is Smell-A-Vision

Talk to any New Mexican, and they'll agree: there really isn't any smell so very "New Mexico" like the smell of roasting chile (perhaps the pungent nasty smell of tar for flat roofing says NM too, but it's not something to be proud of). Thanks to Mrs. D., I was able to put up a few meals' worth of chile yesterday. Mrs. D. has been farming all her life, and has taught me that roasting your own is better than having it barrel-roasted. That method burns the skin (and much of the flesh, if the operator isn't experienced) and even though the smokey smell is still good, it doesn't compare to the soft fragrance of a batch roasted just enough to evenly blister and brown the skin (making it peel nicely).

Last year, I made the mistake of 1) buying chile on opening day of chile season, 2) buying chile from Wal-Mart and 3) having it barrel-roasted. Anyone who knows his or her stuff about chile will tell you NOT to do the first two. The flavor isn't there, the heat isn't there, and probably half of the chiles were so small and meatless that they weren't even worth peeling. My sister (visiting for the weekend) and I were putting up at least 7 bushels, and wanted to cut costs where we could. I really should know better than this. How many times have I decided to go with the cheap knock-off or low-cost item and regretted it? You really do get what you pay for. What does it matter if we saved a third of the cost, when we haven't really eaten much of it because it's so BLAH? We still have at least half of last year's chile. Normally by this time, we've been out of chile for awhile.

This year, I will make a better choice. Living in a farming community now, I am only a few miles away from beautifully big, meaty, broad-shouldered chiles like the ones pictured. Perhaps next year, I will grow my own, and thus be able to do a small batch like this a couple times a week. (With a newborn this summer, I opted not to do much gardening. Tomatoes are it.)

It took about an hour (not including cooling time) to put up this much chile. The time commitment is pretty sizable when doing a regular-size (i.e. much bigger) batch. Not really baby-friendly, either. I don't want to be nursing right in the middle of the peeling phase. It can be PURRR-TY dangerous for baby and mama.

In other news, Casey had his Friday off this weekend, and we visited Gram at her new apartment. Case took the big girls for a quick swim while we were there.

Claire's the water baby of the bunch. Ruby gets cold quickly, and spent most of the time in her towel on the concrete.

Just one more thing: Haley's cousin Alan must have taught her more than just rolling over while he was here. I didn't have a thumb-sucker until last week.

Haley and the Purple Crayon?

Did Ruby and Claire let Haley suck on one of their markers? Nope. This is our latest treatment in an over-a-month-long bout of Thrush, called Gentian Violet. I was turned onto this by blogger friend Becca, and later my pediatritian's nurse recommended it, since Nystatin didn't work a lick (no pun intended, but I'll leave it, since it's so fitting). Becca was so right--G.V. is an UTTER (as well as UDDER, if you must know) MESS. Upon first application, I thought it was not so bad, but that was before I knew that it easily transfers--especially when wet--and continues to stain everything that contacts it (skin is the worst--it doesn't wash off). That being said, I think we're in for an adventure (and TONS of laundry). As Becca so aptly put: Thrush sucks. I will also add that it is an utter pain (if you know what I mean). You do not want to ever deal with it, let me tell you.

Before Gentian Violet

After Gentian Violet. The stuff stains anything affected a deep purple, which is pretty much Haley's ENTIRE mouth. (After over a month, what did I expect?) Please also note the apparent teething of my baby and all the drool which so greatly helps spread the cheer.

I can see how having an older baby complicates this treatment for Thrush, such as the fact that newborns don't suck on their fingers . . .

Nor can they roll over and dig their faces into blankets, towels or carpet. Haley has been in her bouncy seat almost all day--I was pretty afraid of the purple monster. One good thing I've discovered: the stuff seems to come out in the wash pretty easily, so tomorrow, Haley will be allowed "down" again.

Fun, Fun, Fun Till Daddy Takes the T-Bird Away

On Saturday evening (Casey gone till Sunday) we decided to go to this tiny little carnival in our village (yes, it's technically called a village) that had a few cheesy rides. We walked around for a few minutes, then bought some cotton candy and R & C got to ride ONE ride. (I can't believe how expensive the rides were: it cost $3 a person to ride this car ride!!!)

Ruby and Claire's first taste of cotton candy. After a few bites, Ruby told me: "Mom, it's yummy, but I don't want anymore." My children never cease to amaze me.

How Can She be Three Months Already?

And I thought the second child grew up in a flash! Seriously, since she was born, I've been remembering so much about Ruby being a baby, but not so much Claire. I really hope it has more to do with the fact that Haley actually REMINDS me of Ruby, and not that I CAN'T REMEMBER Claire as a baby. I think at least some of the lack of reminders of Claire as a baby has to do with Claire's babyhood being so much busier than Ruby's was, even though I had a whole extra five months to enjoy her babyhood than I did with Ruby (Ruby was 17 months old when I had Claire). It made alot of difference to experience Claire's babyhood with a toddler to chase after.

Haley laughed for the first time today, as I was singing "Pat-a-Cake" to her. I couldn't get her to do it more than twice, but it was so sweet. Since we've been back from Oregon, she's also been giving me a long break between nursing at night. The last few weeks she's been going anywhere from 4 to 9 1/2 hours between night feedings, usually somewhere around 6 or 7. It has been a real blessing to be able to get several hours of sleep in one chunk. There were a few weeks toward the end there when I would be in tears, wanting to have even just a couple of hours of sleep where she didn't have to be in bed with me or actually ATTACHED TO ME. (Maybe it's because I have lots of other sleepers in my house that I don't think I can let her cry it out too long. I did try it once and I cried the entire time she cried [two hours--I know--what a terrible mom, right?]. It wasn't something I could do again. I still feel guilty for letting Ruby cry as much as I did.)

Footprints, finally!

Tuesday: Haley and cousin Alan (who is 4 days older and at least 3 pounds heavier!)

Casey's gone camping for the weekend with the guys in my family. Even though it's harder on me in a way, I really wanted him to do it. He doesn't have many chances to go and do things he enjoys and be with guy friends. Camping hasn't been as enjoyable since we have a couple very little ones who can get into danger very easily (we usually come home from camping completely exhausted). This trip was adult guys only. I think he'll really enjoy himself.

With Casey's being gone, the girls and I are trying to do some fun things. While more difficult to parent alone, it is also a little easier, since I don't have the same pressures of meal preparation or cleaning. Today, we were able to just go with the flow. Walk to the park first thing in the morning while eating a granola bar breakfast, lunch at 10:30, naps at 11:30, hair cuts for R & C, then dinner at 4 o'clock, and bed at 7. It went fairly smoothly, but it's the beginning of the weekend. We'll see how we do by Sunday night.

Home after our errands this afternoon. Next stop: bedtime!