What a man, what a mighty good man

Salt N Pepa sure knew the importance of finding a good man. What they fail to include in their rap is how easy it can be to forget you have a good man in the hustle and bustle of life and parenthood. Between crying babies and a sassy five year old the most my hubby gets out of me on the average day is a list of complaints. Why did you leave your dirty socks under my coffee table again? If you don't mow the lawn soon the neighbors are going to complain (and they did). Did you just feed our already hyper five year old a handful of chocolate? I'm making myself look good by not including the complaints that contain foul language and divorce threats =)

Today my husband informed me that someone had stolen a precious piece of his music equipment out of the garage. My husband is not one to value "things" but his music equipment is very important to him. He didn't throw a tantrum and spent more time trying to calm me down then complaining. The anger I felt for his loss along with his awesome attitude got me thinking about all the reasons I know that my husband is one of kind. The reasons I thank God every day that he found his way into my life. I thought I would share some of those things, mostly to remind myself of why I am one lucky woman.

As a single mom coming out of two failed relationships it was fair to say that I was less then optimistic about finding a good father figure for O. I had given it a go with a guy that already was a father and at best he and O became buddies. She didn't dislike him nor did he her but it seemed like they were a little indifferent to each other. I came to the conclusion that in my situation this was to be expected. O already had a father and the best I could hope for in a mate would be someone who was good to her and respected her place in my life. I would never find someone who would tear up just looking at her or sit up at night to watch her sleep. someone who couldn't stop thinking about her when she wasn't around. This made me very sad but I was coming to peace with it. Then I met my husband.

He and O fell head over heals instantly. He played with her constantly and embraced her as his own right away. It was obvious that this was not for my benefit, he loved her and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. I loved watching him be a father so much I couldn't wait to share another child with him. I fantasized about watching him hold his baby, about all the help I would get this time. So it came as no surprise when a week before our wedding I called him to tell him I had gotten a positive pregnancy test and he replied, f@$# yeah!! He was so excited, we were so excited we were glowing. He told everyone he knew and had this permanent grin on his face. And a couple weeks later when we realized we had lost the baby he mourned it just as strongly with me. He held me while I cried for days only leaving my side to retrieve ice cream and tissues. And when it took us nine more months to conceive Scarlet, he was by my side then too. Holding me again while I cried after every failed pregnancy test. Sharing my fear that maybe we couldn't have kids together, reassuring me that we would be ok no matter what.

Of course he was amazing while I was pregnant and doted over me constantly but it's those other times when I feel I hit the jackpot. Because it's easy to share the joy with someone. To laugh when things are great and to want to kiss you when you look radiant. It takes another kind of man to cry with you and kiss your tears even though you have horrible BO and haven't brushed your hair. Any man can play with the kids and smile at their cute faces. It takes another kind of man to laugh with you when you think you might go insane because your child has become possessed. Or is proud at the amount of poop his little girl can produce and will brag about it to a perfect stranger. These are the kind of men that Salt N Pepa were talking about, mighty good men.

So when he is embarrassing me again in public with is Russian alter personality I try to remember. When he forgets half of the things on the grocery list, always remembering to buy himself cookies I try to remember. When he has man ADD and zones out when I'm talking to him but can concentrate for hours while playing xbox I try to remember. I try to remember what it feels like to be completely abandoned by your partner when the sh@$ goes down. How it feels to make up stories about nice things he's done for you because you are too embarrassed to tell the truth, too embarrassed to admit that you cry every night in loneliness. I remember how every day my husband chooses to be a different kind of man for our family. He chooses to be the kind of father his daughters can be proud of and the kind of husband who tries to understand his crazy wife. He embodies the kind of man Salt N Pepa was talking about, he's a mighty good man.

The Curious Case of Olivia Adrianna

I thought I would start this blog with some background information on my 25....I mean five year old Olivia. My O, as I call her, had to start out life as a tough cookie. I was 19 when I got pregnant with Olivia and the news of my pregnancy, to my surprise, led to my becoming a single mom. When she was born I was 20 and even with the best intentions a 20 year old woman doesn't always know what she is doing and doesn't have an abundance of patience. She got passed around a lot since I worked almost full time and went to school which in some ways I believe benefited her a great deal thanks to an amazing great grandmother who took no small part in raising her. When she was a year and a half we moved into an apartment together which created a bond between us that only a single parent could understand. ( I would like to clear up that sadly there are plenty of married woman out there that can be classified as single mothers)

O learned to be quite independent at a very young age. She was quite a site at two years old helping mommy carry groceries from the car. She gave up her love affair with pacifiers in one day, threw away her bottles in one night and was fully potty trained within a week. She seemed to understand that it was just me and her and she was going to have to pull her wait around here if we were going to keep our sanity and get anything done. This might have something to do with the fact that she now considers herself an equal party in our household. This has caused much grief for my awesome husband and I.

O is the kind of kid who lets us know when we are wrong. Who yells out at dinner that she has a terrible life and whom has called her step father an a@#hole on many of occasion, then proceeded to inform me that while she knows this is inappropriate he really was being one and deserved it. She has given herself a time out after committing an offense with a "what are you going to do about it know" look on her face. When she doesn't want to clean up she informs me that she does not need all of these things and I can give them away, which I have no doubt that she is being serious. She demands to be heard and questions all authority often "giving in" on the pretence that she has to listen to us even though we do not know what we are talking about simply because she is our daughter which is not an easy task. This has lead to some insanity for all parties involved.

Along with O's outright stubbornness comes and amazing capacity for insight and love. She cries at thunderstorms because they are beautiful as well as animal shelter adds while she declares that "if we do not help them mommy, who will?" She tells me I'm beautiful when I'm feeling like crap and throws in the occasional, "have you lost weight mommy?" purely for my happiness. She remembers to ask her Nana is she got the job she interviewed for because she knows that Nana really wanted it. She has an amazing amount of wisdom packed into a five year old body and sometimes she has me believing that she knows a little more then the rest of us about life. So with all that said it came as no surprise to me when she asked me if we could go on a date.

It had to be somewhere fancy, somewhere we can wear high heals and dresses and have a glass of wine. When I explained to her that she could not have a glass of wine she replied, "That's ok mommy, I'll just have a beer then." We looked on the Internet and settled on the Cosmo Cafe downtown, mostly because their website had a picture of women wearing high heals. So this Friday we hoped in the car with Aunt G in tow and headed out for girls night. We had big girl drinks, Shirley temples, and enjoyed some fine dining which means that she ate the bread and one of my french fries. She told the waitress she looked beautiful and informed an older gentleman in a suit that he was handsome. We followed it up with ice cream at Dairy Queen and a sleep over with Aunt G where she had an amazing time.

While I watched her ham it up and flirt shamelessly with the water boy I realized that O is and has always been one of my best friends and favorite people. I also realized that this has very little to do with the fact that she is my daughter and much more to do with the fact that I really like her. As I would say after meeting someone new among friends, "Olivia is good people." It feels really awesome to love your kids but it feels indescribable to really LIKE them.

When did you become a mommy

Most would assume that a woman becomes a mommy the moment she pushes, or has removed, that little bundle of joy out of the internal oven it's been growing in. That would be a fair assumption but for me that moment didn't come until a little later. Now don't get me wrong, I fell in love with Olivia the minute I set eyes on her. I doted over every inch of her and of course thought she was the most beautiful baby ever born. Aside from that the word "mommy" still felt a little foreign to me. That was until one night about eight months later.

She awoke from her peaceful baby slumber with a scream that could only mean one thing.... her first ear infection. Fumbling in the dark I scooped her up in my arms and knew we were in for a long night. The baby Tylenol wasn't touching the pain and no matter what I did I could tell she was miserable. As I held her against my chest there was no doubt I would do anything, seriously anything, to make the pain stop. I cried for her while I rocked her and still swear I had sympathy pains in my ears that whole night. The next morning I rushed her to the doctor in my sweat pants without any make up on. Up until this point in my life a large man with a scary gun could not have gotten me to leave the house in this condition, I wouldn't have it. The doctor quickly diagnosed her with a double ear infection and sent us on our way with the infamous bubble gum meds. She slept much better that night.

It was that night that the term "mommy" no longer felt like a pair of shoes that you love but just don't fit right. I realized I would sacrifice anything for this little persons well being no matter how unfamiliar or terrifying. When you become a mommy all of those narcissistic, self fulfilling tendencies take a back seat. That doesn't mean you don't loose your cool on occasion and let the baby cry sometimes so you can apply that extra coat of mascara. For me it just means that motherhood feels more familiar then most tasks life throws at me. I respond quicker to being called mommy then I do to my own name. It's part of my genetic make up now and while it took a little while for me to get there, there isn't anything that could take it away. I'm a mommy and oh how sweet it is.

Can I get a little Me Time

Oh the guilts of "me time" when you're married and have kids. First off defining what constitutes "me time" can be quite tricky and well even a little pathetic. There are days when faking having to pee longer just so you can stay in the quiet of the bathroom is all you're going to get. Then there are days like today where my amazing husband (sidebar- my amazing husband whom has been a parent 3 yrs less then me has already managed to achieve Super Dad status which makes him rock in my eyes and also makes me extremely jealous, more to come on him later) who worked all morning comes home and lets me sleep while he watches the baby. Oh how sweet uninterrupted sleep has become, especially since I often don't fall asleep until around 3 am these days.

But along with that "me time" comes a plethora of guilt. Should I be spending this time with the baby because I'll miss one of the many adorable things she does? Does my husband miss me and actually prefer to spend time with me rather then just watch the kids? Will Olivia think I'm a crappy mom and reference back to her youth with sadness over my lack of involvement?.......And then I remember what happens to mommies when they do not get the minimum amount of "me time" and that alternative will be much less pleasing to all parties involved.

So I've learned to accept my husbands generous offering of naps as well as asking Olivia to stay away from mommy for 5 min so no injuries occur. I've learned that there will be more days of sleepless nights, puke covered shirts and "mommy I need you RIGHT NOW!" then there will be of laying around in blissful silence. So I take those moments so that I can be a rocking mommy and wife. But more importantly so I can teach my daughters that you can have a family and not sacrifice every bit of your sanity. That your husband and children will forgive you and probably love you more if you take that time when you need it. Now all I have to do is take up those Salsa dancing classes I've promised myself I would take.....oh and become a righteous drummer even though I never practice...."me time" is exhausting =)

Here we go....

I have certainly never considered myself to be the kind of mom who should be handing out advice about parenting, lets face it I'm still quite a beginner at this whole parenting thing. I do however find comfort in sharing stories of parenthood and marriage in all of it's glory.... and otherwise. As I embark upon being a mom the second time around I look towards other women and their stories to get me through, hopefully with a little bit of grace and without humiliation. I don't promise to know what I'm talking about or make complete sense through sleepless nights and screaming babies. I do hope to be honest and at the very least give someone a little something to laugh about here and there. So with a deep breath and some caffeine...... here we go.