Preschool Graduation for My Twins

Tonight was the preschool graduation program for my twin boys. Their teacher is such a sweet and amazing woman, and I was so appreciative of all that she did for those kids. I was proud of my little boys too. Their participation in the program was minimal, but that's OK. My big boy was so proud of the fact that I came to see him dance, so at least I know they did something they are proud of.

After the program we went to the park to have some pizza. The emotions were high and rising. My 3 year old was upset that he didn't get a turn in the program, and he was upset that he didn't have any fun prizes. My big twin boy did offer to share with him, which helped. But then there was a fiasco over the water colors. The little twin started painting with the big twin's. Then the baby took off with them completely. As I tried to convince my big twin boy to calm down while I tried to find a good way to get the paints back he got upset and through all his stuff on the ground and yelled something along the lines of how it was all my fault and he just wouldn't have anything. This is probably somewhat related to me threatening to throw away toys when I'm upset.

Things didn't get much better. On the way home the baby appeared to break the big twin's prize. I was hoping he wouldn't notice but he did. And no offer of mine to try and mend the situation would appease-- I buying him a new one, or that fact that the toy could easily be fixed.

I tried to cope with his ever growing poor attitude, but decided we both probably needed a time out. Before I sent him I asked him to feed the cat. "No!" He replied

Off to his room he went.

It wasn't long till I opened his door, which he shut himself, and tried to explain why I was upset and that I felt he needed to apologize for how he was acting. I left his door open and went downstairs. I asked him to let the dogs out. "NO!" He replied again.

Off to his room he went.

I gathered up all his preschool prizes and put them away. He would need to earn them back.

Now I was the one sliding down the slippery emotional slope.

The older twin was crying. The 18 month old followed me around crying. Then when my mom dropped the other's off my 3 year old was throwing a fit for some unknown reason. I was just done. I told him to go join his other crying brothers and get in his jammies.

My compassion tried to seep through I wouldn't let it. I was tired, and I just didn't have it in me. I could apologize, say my "I'm sorry's" let it all go and move on. But I know we'd probably be back here again. So my justified side took over. I'm tried of trying to be a good mom. I'm tired of trying to do fun things. I'm tired of trying to keep the peace and love in this home only to be met with emotional eruptions, annoyed eye rolls, and being told I'm a mean mom that doesn't care. Is it me? What do I do wrong? Have I brought this on? Is this really all my fault? Though I wouldn't argue that these emotional outbursts are learned, and that they do probably come from me. I still feel at a loss.

I try to remember my childhood. Was I like this for my parents? Most definitely. Was I ever good, sweet or did I ever make them feel like parenthood was rewarding? Probably not all too often. I think of my own situation here and now. Do I like being a mom? Did I really want to do this? Does it feel rewarding? My brain reaches to every corner and comes back with the answer, "I just don't know."

Maybe I was too young. Maybe I was too selfish. Why do I have four children to take care of? Why were they sent to me? I just don't understand. I look at my flawed self and see nothing that resembles someone capable of raising four boys. They are good kids. They are little miracles. I love each and every one of them, and I love the unique gifts they bring to this Earth. I just don't know if I should have been trusted with them. I just don't know if I have what it takes to be their mom. But I'm the only mom they've got.

The younger twin comes to me and says, "You need to tell him you're sorry."

I know he's right, but I'm not ready to let go of my hurt just yet. I know they are just children. That they are learning and growing. But sometimes that hurt can be a hard pill to swallow.

I can feel it now. The tears. The "I'm a total failure speech" is about to run through my brain. I think of all the things I failed out. All the things I can't do. How talent-less I am. How selfish I am. How I can't see an ounce of good in me? Even if I did good, what did it matter? It could never make up for how horrible I am.

I walk into the room. Tell the boys to finish getting ready for bed. I'm still stern and cold and refusing to let compassion seep in. Then my 3 year old says it, "I'm sorry mom." My heart breaks. It was what I wanted, but still they shouldn't be the one's apologizing and I know it. I pull him out of bed and give him a big hug.

The older twin stares at me. He's waiting to be loved. Can I do it? Can I let my guard down? Why should I be so scared to let myself show him love? I stretch out my arms, and he hugs me. Then we sit there on the floor crying. I tell him everything. I tell him how he deserves better. How I try to be a good mom but I fail and I don't know what to do. How it's not his fault it's mine. He's a good little boy who is learning and growing. I'm the one who is lacking. And I tell him that I just don't know if I can do this.

My mind whirls with all the people that may be to blame for my break down. But I calm it. I know I'm the only one to blame. Once again I'm faced with knowing I am lacking, knowing I'm not strong enough to pull through this on my own. It scares me that there are still times when I just want to run away and leave it all behind. There are still times when I just want to be done being a mom. I don't know why I was sent these four little boys. I feel so completely incapable. I don't know which scale to judge myself on.

We cried our tears. We said our apologies. What will tomorrow bring? I just don't know. But this is one completely inadequate mom who is just going to have to keep trying to figure it out.

A Post for Mother's Day

I promised a friend that I would try to get through my Mother's Day with no depression. So I'm attempting to approach the day as best as I can. I just don't know how to approach. I want to maybe be excited, but I know if that happens I'll probably end up depressed because my expectations were not met. I want to just pretend it's a normal day, and then if something special does happen it's just a little extra surprise. But then I feel like that's not the right approach because I'm supposed to enjoy the day. Ack! How do you approach this day? I like holidays that are centered on people besides me. I can then focus on making the day special and fun for them, and I end up having a lot of fun. So I try to focus my efforts on my mom, which was super easy breezy before I was a mom myself. Now that I'm mom I don't know what to do. Do I put the effort in? Or do I attempt to just relax all day? If I relax all day no one makes dinner for me or my mom, so I might as well plan on making dinner so at least one of us can enjoy having the night kind of sort of off. Needless to say I'm trying to hang in there and I'm hoping tomorrow can be enjoyable even if it's not full of gifts and surprises.

And in an effort to try and find some joy I decided to write a quick note about what I love about my kids.

Starting with the oldest twin:

You have such a tender heart, and you are so emotionally charged. 

I know almost exactly how you are feeling because I see myself in you so much.

You try to be the adult, which is really helpful, but you also get kind of bossy.

You then get so tied up in trying to have control over everyone and everything, which leads to you getting upset.

Just like your mom. 

I love you're little phrases.

And you interest in learning.

You love science and airplanes, and think that getting to learn about them is a real treat.

I love that you're willing to talk to me, even if you slip in insults as you do. 

Seriously, kid I love you and you're big heart!

The younger twin:

You got mom's hot temper, and you get so upset over little things like if you're shoes don't go on right.

It's a long road, but we can slowly learn ways to conquer our tempers together. 

You are always the first to come and apologize and I love that. 

I often wish I hadn't led you to feel that you owe me an apology, but at the same time I love that you do and I feel that it is such a wonderful trait.

Remember that talk we had after you stepped on the duck. I hated having to watch that duck die. I hated knowing there was nothing I could do. And I hated not knowing how to handle you. I was so upset, and I let you know it. But I felt so bad because I knew I shouldn't be mad at you at a time like that. We sat down and talked and I asked you, "What can we do so this doesn't happen again? We can't change it, but we can learn from it." You then said, "I need to go away." My heart broke, and we talked about it over and over again. I told you, "It was just an accident, and you didn't mean to hurt the duck. But we need to learn from it and know that next time we listen better and try to be more careful." I hope you know the answer is never to go away, but to keep trying because that will be what helps you feel more certain about yourself.

I love you kid! 

The three year old:

What can I say about you?

You are friendly, confident, independent and fearless.

These traits can sometimes give me a headache, but often leave me in awe wondering how on Earth I managed to get a kid like you.

You are everything I'm not. 

You don't let anything bring you down. 

You don't kick and scream and fight when we have to give you medicine or take you to the doctor. 

You could confidently put on any piece of clothing-- like a pair of purple pajamas that you love because of the doggy on them-- and wear it with no fear of people making fun of you. All you know is that you love it, you like and that is all that matters. I love the nail polish you picked today, by the way. 

You are always the first to ask me what is wrong. And you always bring me something, like a drink or a cheese, when you get something yourself. I think it's super sweet.

You're the tops kid! Don't ever let them bring you down! Love ya!

The 18 month old:

You were such a shock, and a bit of a hardship to bring into the family.

Not because you're you, but because we just weren't ready for another kid.

And I'm still not ready. And you prove that everyday as you sneak out of the house-- luckily your brothers are good at keeping on eye on you and telling me when you go out in the street. 

I really feel bad that I can't be a better attentive mom for you.

But you still demand my time and throw a fit if I even hint at leaving a room, or a place, without you.

As hard as it is, it's also reaffirming. At least I know I show you enough love that you still want me by your side. At least I'm not as scary as I feel.

You're were a pretty easy going baby, but you're definitely giving me a run for my money.

When you don't get your way-- which happens sometimes because we absolutely have no idea what you want-- you throw yourself back smacking your head on the floor, you hit anyone in sight and you grab things and throw them on the ground. 

It's probably another lovely trait from your mother, and I try to work you through it. 

Along with your fits, and frequent grumpiness, you are also very happy. And when your happy I just love it!

Sometimes I feel bad that you had to join us on this crazy ride, in this crazy family. 

We'll make it through together, and I promise I won't leave you behind-- you don't even have to throw a fit to remind me. 

Love you and can't wait to see what you have in store for us.

I don't know how I feel about being a mother, but I know how I feel about my kids. And I do love them, and hope I can do right by them. Sometimes I just don't know if I was cut out for this. I feel as though I'm a little selfish, and I was a little premature in my decision to become of mother-- or at least become a mother to four. I hear people make judgement calls on other parents like, "I can't believe they did that," or "That is so inappropriate." I look at myself and start to ponder if I do similar, and I usually find some examples. I try not to make judgement calls-- though I sometimes do. I just never know how I myself look, and it seems whenever I hear a definition of bad parenting I can usually find a piece of me that fits into it. It's probably because I try so hard to find empathy with everyone and every situation. Either way, it leaves me wondering if I really can claim the "Good Mother Prize" on mother's day.

Thank you to my friends, and other's, who have shared your comments, support and love! It means a lot! I was really blessed to have my life filled to the brim with some pretty amazing people, and some pretty amazing kids! 

Eggs Anyone?

The oldest of the twins, and the family, is one amazing kid. Granted we've just spent about two weeks dealing with his emotional breakdowns and trying to manage his whining. But he really is such a helper. He's such a big helper that when he's going through these phases it's really hard on me. When he's helping me he helps so much, and is so willing, it just makes me so happy and life so much better.

He really has been so sweet lately. Yesterday we went to the Dinosaur Museum and he was just thrilled. He loves science, and he was so excited to see everything. Granted we had some issues when I asked if I could take his pictures, but overall I had fun experiencing everything with him.

Then today was so great. I jokingly asked each of the kids to go make breakfast. They all said, "No!" And the younger twin proceeded to remind me, "We're just kids mom. We're just kids." Then the older twin said, "Fine, I'll just go make breakfast." He left and returned to inform me he was making eggs. We have been making a lot of eggs, and all the kids have been so excited to learn. So I went to check on him He had gotten some eggs out, cracked them, scrambled them and he was now looking for a pan. He even told me how he had followed my directions for cracking the eggs, and how much better it had worked. Then the 3 year old came in and wanted to make eggs. So he confidently helped his brother make some eggs too. I got him a pan and he poured them in and then sat there and cooked the eggs. He was so proud of himself. And I was proud of him too. It was all going great until he burned himself on the pan. That really burned his confidence too. He kept exclaiming, "I'm so stupid!" I sat down and explained to him that everyone who cooks burns themselves. It happens all the time. Poor kid.

Sometimes I wonder if I do well by my kids. I hope I teach them well, and raise them to be good adults. Through the stress and craziness of everyday life it's hard to always see if your doing a good job as a mom, or totally screwing up. Then you get a moment where everything seems to come together, and you realize they have learned good things, in the midst of the craziness. And you can breathe a little sigh of relief and feel like they'll turn out alright.

Any Interest in Essential Oils, Start Here :)

Had a lot of fun researching this info.

Pursuit of Midwifery

I just started to attend a Midwifery school here in town, and I've really been enjoying my experience. As I was researching things for homework I found this article. This isn't about soap boxes, or me trying to say that hospitals and doctors are evil. I was just really impressed with this article, and I've been so impressed with the amazing women I have had the privilege to learn about as I study about midwifery. It's amazing once you set aside the controversy and guilt, that conversations about home births and midwives can often bring up, you discover these amazing stories of these amazing women who did, and do, amazing things.

I really don't want to write a long post, so I'm hoping I can share all of this without having it drag on. Here goes.

When I was first introduced to the home birth world I really fought against it. I felt like they were telling me that everything I did/wanted was wrong. Many of the things I read seemed to be written in anger and aimed at causing feelings of guilt. I felt like I had no place in this world. I had never had negative feelings towards c-sections, and I kind of knew that's how I would have my babies. It didn't bother me. It was really what I wanted, and each of my births have really meant something to me. It's hard to have something mean so much to you, and then be treated like you suffered a tragedy. This isn't me trying to say we should all aim for c-sections. This is just me saying that I specifically really liked my births. But I would never try to convince a woman to get a c-section if she didn't want one. I didn't think the recovery was bad, but if you didn't want a c-section I think the recovery would be hard. I know this because I didn't want to breastfeed, so everything that was hard about breastfeeding was all the more discouraging. Had I wanted to breastfeed I would have gladly climbed over any mountain to reach my goal.

Which leads to the next part of my story. I like formula. I read every thing I could on breastfeeding. I tried to keep an open mind, and asked several friends for advice. But nothing ever struck me. I told myself I would try it, but as I look back I wish I had mainly used formula, pumped what I could and relaxed more-- this is what I did with my other two children. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like things with the twins would have been a lot less stressful had I just used formula like I wanted to. These traits of mine have led me to feeling like an oddball in the birthing world.

It wasn't until a friend told me that she would have been my doula at my last c-section birth that I started opening up my mind to the home birthing world. I was completely shocked. I kept my guard up around her, and tried to protect my birth. I tiptoed around conversations afraid she might say something that would call my birth a mistake. But then I realized she wasn't like that at all. She made a place for my birth in her world, and I felt like I could now accept what the home birthing world was preaching.

There were a few more things that lead me down this path. Overall I noticed I seemed to have a more active interest in my pregnancies than some. This is what led me to start thinking about becoming a Certified Nurses Midwife. I felt my feelings were confirmed through thoughts and prayer and I felt strongly I would need these skills. As I started my path towards school I heard about a scholarship application for this Midwifery school. Since I was more warmed up to the idea of home birth, and birthing centers, I thought this could be a path I could take now. And then when I noticed my grades probably weren't going to cut it for nursing school I felt even more directed towards this midwifery school. I'm glad I made this choice. I have met some many amazing women, and the range of women is so diverse. Everyone has a different background and different reason for being there, and I feel all the more like I can be a part of this world.

I've really enjoyed taking this new perspective and using it to study the history of my religion and home state. I never saw it this way before, but midwives were highly respected members of the Mormon Society that settled this state. They were such amazingly strong women that did some amazingly wonderful things for their community. And the best part is that they represent so many things that have come to be of great importance to me. To know that I am taking another step in following in their footsteps is truly amazing to me. And I feel even more certain that this is the right career choice for me.

I really liked this article. I think there are things that may be a little controversial, and I hope it doesn't offend. I truly don't mean to post it in that manner. I just liked the history and the thoughts they had on the subject. I thought it was interesting. Something to consider.

I hope my future career allows me to be there for women in a time when they are vulnerable and in need of support. I hope I can help women to feel safe with whatever birth they choose to have, and I hope I can help them feel, that no matter what happens, they did the best they could for themselves and their baby. I don't want to put anyone on an agenda. I just want to be there when I'm needed to provide comfort and support. And when I start to study midwifery I really feel like that's what it's all about.

I hope you didn't mind the pics of our baby chicks, and duckling. We were excited to find out we are zoned for chickens again, and are so happy to welcome these little guys into our home. Our dog, sadly, killed two of the chicks. My son, one of the twins, brought me one. He was so calm, and understanding. It didn't seem to bother him at all. I put my arm around him and said, "I am so sorry sweetie!" I was pretty upset. But he was OK. We put the chicks up high, and the other twin was trying to see them and knocked them down. That's when the dog got the second one. I felt so bad. I didn't want to make him feel like it was his fault, but I also wanted to explain to him how we should try to avoid letting this happen again. So many emotions. I felt bad my kids had to witness this happen to their chicks-- even though they handled it well. I felt bad that I didn't protect those poor baby chicks from harm. And I felt bad that I didn't do more to keep the dog from being in a position to act on such instincts-- she's such a sweetheart that I hate feeling such anger toward her. To top it all off when we went to get chicks to replace the two we lost one of the twins saw an injured little chick in one of the bins. I pointed it out to the worker that helped us. Poor little guy was lame and could stand up. Ugh! Too many baby chick tragedies! We're really fine. I'm impressed with my kids for handling it so well, and I'm keeping my feelings in reserve just in case my kids need to come to me for some understanding and answers to the whole situation. So that's our baby chick story. I wanted to squeeze it in, and plus they are so cute I wanted to post the pics.

A Blip From Another Blog

I wanted to share this here as well. Enjoy! :)

After They Fall Asleep. . .

 I love how my routine goes when I close up the house at night. My kids are in bed and suddenly the remnants left around the house all become precious little mementos of a day I'll never see again. I fight back the tears as I pick up the sweet packet of oatmeal my 3 year old got out but I never cooked for him. I put away the Spiderman mask that one of the twins was so excited to tell me about but I got agitated cause he kept interrupting me. I find the Batman plane the other twin has desperately been searching for. I lovingly pick up the empty bowl my 18 month threw on the floor. I get so upset when he does that, but suddenly I realize it's a token of a missed moment because I didn't fully take it all in today. Suddenly I don't know if I really looked at my kids at all today. What do they look like? What if they look different tomorrow? *Sigh*. . .Picking up the house is sure an emotional roller coaster when you have empathy for each object you find.

Once those four fall asleep I'll take a moment to kiss them all good night and enjoy this moment of peace before I forget it all tomorrow and once again become a screaming lunatic. OK, perhaps not screaming, but at the very least a very firmly speaking lunatic.

Pics are from Sunday when I taught the boys how to make eggs for the first time.