Thank goodness I'm not famous...

Yesterday was one of those days that make you glad you're not a reality star. We had a scene in Publix, screaming matches at home, and a late-night chocolate binge, no bath, the list goes on. I learned a lot about what upsets me, and I learned how challenging it can be to have two kids at home with me. Here is a brief osummary of what I learned:

1. It's worth it to make sure that everyone has eaten. N has a useful device for ensuring that her nutritional needs get met (waaaaah!), but C gets so busy playing that half the time he doesn't care to eat. Which leads to a post-nap blood sugar dip that is so severe that he becomes a little monster. Or at least his tendency to be monster-like increases in 15 minute intervals. So I have to figure out how to get more protein into him. Smoothies, maybe? I could call it "special chocolate milk," and mix in protein powder, flax oil, bananas... Also, I get very testy when I am hungry, which I was. I put off eating because we were going out to dinner, but I need my snacks too, just like my two kidlets. The three of us are different from B in that respect -- B, who could live on coffee in the morning, coffee for lunch, a big dinner, and a midnight snack. It is a perpetual wonder to me that anyone could survive on so little ;D

2. It's worth it for us to get out and get our exercise. It reduces my own ire a bit, but it reduces C's toddler angst by a huge amount. Not coincidentally, yesterday we did not go out and exercise. Note to self.

3. Watch the thermostat. It's a weird time of year when it is slightly chilly in the morning but hot in midday. The a/c was off from the morning, but by the midafternoon (the time of our screaming matches) it was nearly 80 in the house, which some people can stand, but which sends me into a destructive spiral. So, let's keep it 77 and below for the sake of our sanity.

4. Don't get too much of an agenda. Part of my problem was that I was trying to finish a bunch of household chores that were driving me crazy (dishes, laundry, etc.) and so I was ignoring the kidlets for a little longer than I normally would. Which leads downward, until I am shutting C in his room more for his benefit than for mine. :p

5. Take a breath. At the end of the day, it is better to walk out of a room for 5 minutes than to scream into your toddler's face.

All in all, it was a lesson in humility. There is no way to pretend that you are a perfect parent when you miss all your benchmarks for the day, including "don't yell and curse at your toddler." Sheesh. Not a proud day for me, but I did learn a little.

So thank goodness I'm not famous, because yesterday the paparazzi would have caught me at my worst, and today you would be reading about this on the front of the Enquirer as you waited in the checkout line.

Today, I actually got a lot of housework done, which makes me feel much better. I got my teaching done this morning and I have some more editing to do after C goes to bed, but all in all it is still possible for me to get done what I need to get done.

The keys to the housework seem to be the "Little Bits" theory coupled with dogged determination -- I have to go back to the same unfinished job six times in a row, but then all of a sudden I get an opportunity and I power through a bunch of stuff all at once. So most of the laundry is done, the clutter is clear (though of course not perfect) and there is a lot more clear space in my own head, which is the most cluttered area of all. :)

Week 3: Triumphs so far...

Little N is eating and growing a lot. It is hard sometimes having her attached to me for about 23.5 hours a day, but it is less difficult than I thought it would be. Chalk it up to her cuteness and the fabulous breastfeeding chemicals. :)

I am finding that the key to my happiness is wearing her in the sling -- she loves to just hang out in there, and it works whether we are out and about or at home. It works as I type (thank goodness!) and eat. I just wish it would work while I slept! :)

My biggest victory so far this week came yesterday. I got up with the idea of taking C out to burn some energy. I got the idea as I was praying about what in the world I could do to relate to him better, to overcome that little gap between us that had bene growing since N was born. We went to the playground and he ran around for a long time -- it seems like maybe physical activity is the way to keep him in a pretty good mood. He was much more mild and happy all day after having some time to wear himself out yesterday. He smiled at me without me having to tickle him, and we sang some of our old songs and had some fun yesterday. It warmed my old heart and made me feel like a mommy again. Yay! :) So now I want to try to work that sort of thing into most of our days. Where should we go today?? Hmm...

I also got the first draft of a story written -- I want to try to submit it, to check off the last item on my "Things to do by the time I turn 30" list. So far I have done everything except publish something. It it long overdue, so I have to try harder this year.

The "Little Bits" theory is working well so far also. For today, some teaching items and LAUNDRY. Blargh. ;D

A Little Bit about Little Bits

So some quick news updates: saw the primary care doctor and were relieved to be told that the original doctor we saw told us a completely incorrect diagnosis, and that what we thought was the rash spreading was really just an allergic reaction to the medicine which we were given to... uh... clear up the rash. Go ahead and figure that one out.

And I promise, that is the last rash-related update, at least for a while.

The real substance of this post is my recent thoughts about How I Will Manage To Teach With Two Children Including One Toddler and One Newborn. This topic has been occupying quite a bit of my mind lately. I have also been considering the fact that whenever something seems impossible (something that I must do, that is), it is because I am approaching it with some sort of inflexibility. When I discover the inflexibility and make it flex, often the problem dissolves, or at least becomes manageable.

The inflexibility I discovered here is that I prefer to have large chunks of time to do my work. I would rather sit down and do a week's worth of grading in one uninterrupted day than do little pieces of work here and there. However, with a nursing newborn (happy three-weeks-old, my sweet little N!) there is no such thing as a large chunk of time in which to do anything at all (including, as I discover, showering, eating, washing dishes, folding laundry, or going outside). In fact, Norah is nursing right now, and I am very pleased to discover that if I prop her head on my left elbow (she is in the sling), I can still type, although it is slightly more taxing on my forearm muscles than normal typing is. But what can I say? I suffer for my art.

But moving on with the discussion: there are no large chunks of time in my day. I suspect that my love of large chunks of time comes from a bit of nostalgia on my part for the time in my life when I was writing my thesis. I would sit down with an enormous pile of articles, a highlighter, some notepaper, and, like ten hours of uninterrupted time. And I would just absorb knowledge until I had to stop to eat or sleep. I even had a neat little desk just for my own use, in a fluorescent-lit office where no one ever was during the hours that I kept. It was kind of fantastic.

But that was then, and this is now, and raising a family rules out the large-chunks-of-time method. So I have thought a lot and prayed a little, and I am coming to an idea of using "little bits" of time. Because as much as I can never find six straight hours in which to do my work, I can certainly cobble together ten minutes here, fifteen there, maybe even 45 minutes or an hour somewhere else. So I have to start thinking of my work in these terms -- as small, discrete chunks of effort.

This approach will have some challenges; mainly, I have to conceive of my work in these little-bit increments, and keep my mind organized in that way. This might not seem like that big of a deal, but I have found that my postpartum mind resists organization like a college freshman resists commitment (zing!). So I have to maybe make written lists every day of all the little bits I must do.

But I think the advantages might outweigh the challenges. For instance, if I keep up a steady stream of "little bits" of work, my workload might stay manageable so that I don't have to do marathon grading sessions, which do wear me out, even if they are my mode-of-choice. So it could keep me from procrastinating and make me a better worker overall, against my will. Also (and this is a big one) doing my work in tiny piece will force me to let go of my perfectionistic, all-or-nothing approach to my paid work, which sometimes freezes me with anxiety -- if I feel like I can't get all the way through a big task, I don't even want to start it, out of fear of some far-off, nebulous thing, somewhat related to failure and somewhat related to Being Mediocre. I am not really sure what that fear-feeling is all about, but the moral of the story is that working in little bits will make me have to live with ambiguity and unfinished-ness while I work toward completing a task. I will not be the wunderkind that can complete all her work in one hour; nor will I be the most efficient, most streamlined worker in history. But perhaps I will be able to meet my benchmarks while still raising two happy healthy kids and having time for B as well. Living with ambiguity like this will be a spiritual exercise; I am chafing at the idea of it even now. But I feel like it will be good for me. I am interested to see what kind of fruits will come of it, through the veil of my kicking and screaming. What I need most is the grace to give in to the new schedule, the new set of goals, the new way of being, and to let go of my old ideas about What Should Be.

I am trying "little bits" out starting today, when I am beginning to prepare my course calendar and syllabus for posting tomorrow. I am giving myself a pass to only do a little because N has been feeding NONSTOP today, and I mean that literally. My longest stretch of putting her down (which I squandered by doing dishes! Curses!) was maybe 20 minutes, at about 11am. Since then she has been eating, eating, pausing to eat, eating to regain her strength after so much eating... you get the point. It is just what these newborns do. At any rate, she is definitely my daughter. There is hardly any point in life where I couldn't sit down to a meal. ;D

My table is messy and loud but it is weighed down with food and love and riches. :)

Hmm...

So maybe, yes panic? Rash on C is spreading despite all of our efforts; I will spend tomorrow on the phone with doctors and shelling out $$ on copays and prescriptions, if I am lucky to get in to see someone.

I am thankful for modern medicine, but sometimes I hate dealing with the machine.

DON'T PANIC

Spent the midday running errands with N while B stayed home with C -- We made it to Target and Publix both, getting almost everything we needed. We even made it to the Easy Mail to send a package to Reina in CA (it's the Yes shirt, that I thought I sent last year, but I just found it in the closet when I was cleaning. On its way to you, though very slowly...).

Aside from a few Emergency Milk Meals as we shopped, it was a very chill and successful (though slow -- so slow) trip, and I found myself running into a particular feeling over and over again, like the corner of the kitchen table that sticks out too far and keeps catching your hip no matter how hard you try to avoid it. It was the feeling produced when Interior Monologue shouts to me, "YOU MUST BE FORGETTING SOMETHING." And yes, it's in all caps. It's a feeling of sick panic, like realizing four hours after you leave home that perhaps you did not turn off the oven, or the coffee pot, or that possibly you forgot to respond to that email from your faithful client. Panic, with a tinge of hope that everything still might be okay. It happens to me a lot lately, as I find that taking care of two kids is somehow easier than taking care of one used to be, and then I think that surely it is because I MUST BE FORGETTING SOMETHING. Except I'm not.

Still, the internal alarm keeps sounding, and I have to repeatedly review lists in my head -- all the bills have been paid, the laundry is in the dryer, here is baby N right here, and C is home with B, so they are okay. The car runs, the food is in the fridge, so what is there to panic about?

Chilling out and accepting the blessing of peace when it comes is harder than it might seem. I don't crave chaos, but I am certainly used to it; part of me does feel kind of wrong when there is no crisis to solve.

Instead of putting out fires, the challenge now is just to go about my daily business, keeping cheerful and not freaking out, even (and especially) when there is nothing to freak out about. Or, to be more faithful to the rules of English grammar: when there is nothing about which to freak out.

Cheers! :)

Embrace the Chaos...

First, in regards to my last post, C does not have chicken pox, just an annoying skin rash that will eventually go away on its own. Finding this out used up the whole day yesterday, though, so all day today I have been doing dishes and laundry to catch up what I did not do yesterday because I was so busy worrying.

Today brought some smiles, most notably this morning. N was sleeping well, so I got C started on some finger paints at his request (*side note: I LOVE finger painting -- the stuff is the consistency of the lemon goo in lemon meringue pie and it is really fun to play in). Then N woke up to eat, and while I was stationed on the couch feeding her, the finger painting station in the kitchen grew suspiciously quiet. Then came the announcement dreaded by mothers everywhere: "I painting with my FEET!" He was delighted; I was horrified. I went to the kitchen and found my budding artist amid a modest scattering of red, blue, and purple footprints.

Luckily finger paint is very washable.

So I stifled the creative genius today, forcing him to wash hands and taking the paints away until I have time to fully supervise him. Still, I have to laugh. And he gets points for creativity! :)

Aside from this specific event, I am being led to a different kind of understanding of domestic life. It goes something like this: I have an ideal vision of what my domestic life should look like -- something like a cross between a clean idyllic pioneer homestead and a Martha Stewart photo shoot. Completely ridiculous, and yet how do I let go of it? With two kids -- a newborn and a very... uh... creative toddler, an ideal of complete neatness is ridiculous, not even taking into account my own housekeeping challenges. One thing I learned as soon as C was born is that your effort shows differently with housekeeping after you have kids. As an example, let's say I spend an hour straightening the living room. If I were just me, everything I cleaned would pretty much stay clean until I messed it up. However, with one kid, you only retain about a 75% to 80% cleanliness rate -- if you pick up 100 toys, about 20 to 25 of them will be brought out again before you are done cleaning. So you lose some of your efficiency right there. Add a nursing newborn to the mix, and between stopping and starting every 20 to 30 minutes to feed (with some longer breaks here and there) and you are lucky to even remember what you were doing, much less actually complete a task. Add your own meals and meals for the toddler, bathing yourself, answering the phone and (of course) blogging, and you are lucky to end up just getting back to zero by the end of the day, meaning, you will work all day and the house will look exactly the same as it did when you woke up. (But it won't look worse! That is your victory for the day.)

It can sound terrible if you look at it that way, judging yourself by the same standards that you used before you had a family. But the challenge is to redefine success. For me, success used to be straight A's, clean house, tons of friends, and a dinner and a movie date with B. Now, it is a little less tangible -- bills paid, babies fed and healthy (if they are happy that's a plus, but sometimes they just aren't, and that has to sometimes be okay), time for conversation and relaxing with B, even if there is a nursing baby there with us during the late night hours. No huge messes, and domestic life progressing forward one step at a time. Maybe there is a load of wet laundry that won't get dried until morning; maybe the dinner dishes are just soaking and won't be washed until morning (or afternoon) either.

But I am holding out hope that the rewards of our labor will come later, when we have established a happy, healthy family. And how could we ever manage to do that without a little bit of mess?

A Rash Decision

Full of anxiety today as I wait for the doctor to call me back (waiting... waiting...) C has a rash that might be chicken pox or something else, I have no idea. Hoping N has not caught it. On edge, tired, waiting to hear back. Hate not knowing. Worried about C, worried about N. :p