fly mama

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

And the Rocket's red glare...........


I remember being a child and being SO excited about something I simply couldn’t control myself. Now, a mom-I giggle when I witness my sons excitement and astonishment over things. This recent burst of excitement involved a rocket, not a toy rocket, but a model rocket that he and dad put together (with some fine tuning by mom!). For two weeks Peyton walked around the house talking about the rocket, asking when we were going to let the rocket off and declaring his rocket could fly up to 600ft. He could hardly contain himself on Sunday when we declared that it was take off day for the rocket. This special model came with two engines-so we could watch this magical creation take off 2x. Even I was getting excited for lift off!
Late afternoon found us at the park, hunting for the perfect location to let the rocket off. Hmmm, no-not there, they are having a birthday party. Errr.....not there, the park ranger might tote us all off! Ahhh.....there. There, happened to be at the tail end of the park. No one in sight, just us and a fenced off area where things like farm animal shows are held. Thankfully no farm shows this weekend-so we found it to be the PERFECT spot. I got it all set up.....we stood far back......read the instructions.......it was count down time. Peyton was the launcher....he no sooner counted 5.....4.....and the thing was off.....with a ZOOM......POW......we could hardly see the damn thing. SWISH! Out came the parachute as it sailed to the ground! My mouth dropped.....HOW COOL WAS THAT? Jeremy was delighted.......we were jumping around like two little kids......only Peyton was freaked out! It all happened so fast. And to make matters worse, the rocket chose to land in the fenced off area. Now Peyton was really freaked! I declared that I’d hop the fence to grab the rocket-I couldn’t believe the words as they came out of my mouth- I was going to hop a fence! And much like the rocket......it was lift off time! There I was-over the fence grabbing the rocket and then back over again. I was in shock. I could still hop a fence! YEAH MOM!
Jeremy and I decided that we’d let the rocket off again....we’d move over a little bit and Jeremy would let it off so that Peyton would actually get to watch it. The poor little dude was crying...I just want to go home! I don’t want to let it off again......what if it goes over the fence again....the park ranger will come and mom will be in trouble. Mom was quite ready to take that risk.....it was too cool to not see again. So, there we were.....take off 2. I knelt down next to Peyton, Lucy in my arms......WHAM! It was off again! As we all ran around like loonies trying to determine where it would come down....it did just what we hoped to avoid.....back in the fenced area. Over the fence again for mom. This time Peyton wasn’t quite as upset by the whole experience. I think reality hit that mom just climbed a fence! As I was climbing back over, my little guy stood by the fence screaming, "When was the last time you climbed a fence mom....in college?" I couldn’t help but laugh. I think that was more intriguing to him then the actual rocket. He has inquired several times since Sunday about my fence climbing skills. Also, the rights and wrongs about climbing fences, as we have taught him to obey signs.....and when something says-"DO NOT ENTER"- you DO NOT ENTER. That was a fun one to explain. Nonetheless, the $30-rocket was a blast (no pun intended)-but equally as entertaining was mom climbing the fence (and not hurting herself). Jeremy and I are excited to see the rocket fly again-I think Peyton is as well, however we will choose a different location this time. Not that I can’t climb the fence anymore......but I think I am ready for more of a challenge. Maybe over the water so I can try and out swim a water moccasin....or the highway where I will have to dodge cars (like Frogger!).
Model Rocket: $29.99
Gas to find the perfect launch site: $2.00
Mom climbing a fence (and not hurting herself): PRICELESS!

Friday, February 24, 2006

Raising Boys


I feel a HUGE responsibility. Raising a boy is hard, I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders at times. His ability to love, nurture, understand and empathize are all things that his future partner will blame me for. Future conversations (with this now fictitious character) invade my thoughts. I can hear them saying, "Well....that’s because your mom was....blah blah blah" or, "If your mother weren’t so.......you wouldn’t have turned out this way". Now, I know there are many years before this fictitious person will come into our lives, yet still I worry about it.
It has been said to me several times that by the time kids turn 5 or 6-the ground work is set. This frightens me! Have I done all that I can do? Right now he is a great kid, not always as empathetic as I’d like-but I think he’s an exceptional boy. I still have another year to cram as much as I can in......so what should I add? I don’t want to overdue it.......because that could come back to bite me in the butt. Where is the balance?
Peyton and I have a great relationship, sure there are times that I piss the little bugger off, and likewise. He gets embarrassed when I kiss him at school, if I hold his hand in public or stroke his hair lovingly in front of others. Will he grow up to not want any public affection shed on him? Or is he your typical 5 year old? Am I reading too much into this behavior? HELP!
I analyze, and over analyze. It has been said that a man’s relationship with his mother shows the type of man he will be to his future partner. I want Peyton to be compassionates, loving, yet not a sissy boy (sorry if that offends anyone). I think a perfect balance of mom and dad would be ideal. A greasy biker boy (a little Marlon Brando in The Wild One's) that is loving and creative (a little Ethan Hawke in Great Expectations). He can be all macho, but if he sees a hurt bird by the side of the road, instead of running the damn thing over and laughing about it later-he’ll stop and pick the thing up. Am I asking too much?
At 5 years old he already considers himself a ladies man. He has a girlfriend (which by the way became OFFICIAL this week when he told her she was his girlfriend and she declared "I WILL"-I told him he should ask her, he opted out of that one because she might say no). So, he has a girlfriend, but there are others that he calls his girlfriend as well, sure-not with the glimmer in his eye that he refers to his beloved. When I ask him why he has more then one, he replies, "Well, you have to make sure she’s the right one!" He already has a purple plastic ring from the gum-ball machine set aside to propose to her (to which I am sure she will declare "I WILL" when she is told they are going to get married!) He writes her notes and buys her gifts and talks about her constantly. So, aside from him telling instead of asking her to be his girlfriend, he seems to be doing pretty well. He is attentive to her when they are together and thinks about her all the time. If this is any indication, I would say we are doing pretty good and maybe I just need to settle down a bit.
I hope that his future partner and I get along-that there is harmony between us and that we genuinely like eachother, otherwise they are sure going to hate living next door to me!

Friday, February 17, 2006

A Night in the ER


I am not what I consider a drama mama. I call things like they are. I run and do.....stop and go.....my days seem endless. The one thing I rarely do is take time for myself. I don’t eat right.....I don’t drink enough fluids....and I don’t get nearly enough sleep. I guess it should not come as a surprise to me when the other evening I hit the wall. One in the morning found me praying to the tidy bowl man-I was stuck in this position for 2 hours before I realized something was in fact seriously wrong. I find it amazing that I NEVER hesitate taking the kiddos to the doctor, but will try and ride whatever I have out. After two hours curled up on the floor shivering, I crept into the bedroom and woke up my husband-explaining as much as I possibly could that I was sick, had to go to the hospital, would drive myself and he had to stay with the kids. Readily he agreed and I was on my way. I no sooner hit the ER doors and sat down to have my vitals checked, but was grabbed and bombarded by 4 nurses screaming numbers and throwing electrodes on me. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, the pace they were moving at was frightening-even to me who moves a mile a minute. After my body swallowed up one bag of IV in a half an hour, I regained some sense of what was going on.....the numbers they were screaming were my vitals which were so off the charts-they couldn’t believe I had driven myself to the hospital. My heart rate was 133, my blood pressure was high 70's over low 40's...how was I even coherent? I begged and pleaded for a cup of ice.....just one little piece of ice.....PLEASE! Just one of those cute little hospital ice tubes! Those of you that have ever been in the hospital KNOW these little ice creations.....what is it about hospital ice that sends me into orbit? And the thought of cranberry juice poured over these little tubes......BLISS! Needless to say, I couldn’t convince them at that time that I could ingest and keep even those cute little ice tubes down. Instead I earned a shot of Demerol and some God forsaken shot in my butt that hurt more then giving birth! Whatever was in that shot they should give to terrorists! YES! It was that bad! So.....I wound up being committed....OOOPS! I mean admitted (easy mistake). Which a short time later earned me my cute little ice tubes. YIPPEE!
We don’t really know what caused this little episode. The doctor believes it to be a combination of things......stomach virus on someone who already has an insufficient diet and fluid intake equals DISASTER! Thankfully, (after I had my fill of ice tubes) I convinced them I was ready to go home. Of course....there was only one way for them to let me leave.....could I keep their DELICIOUS hospital food down? (If I could keep that down.....anything stood a chance!) After slurping back a half a bowl of tomato soup and a cup of green jello (which I prayed was green for all the right reasons), sucked back some apple juice and iced tea.......and VOILA! An hour later.....I was good to go! This has given me a new sense of my bodies capabilities-while I love my coffee and my Chex Mix, a diet of those two things is not a sufficient one. My body is a machine and without the proper gas and oil cannot be kept in running order.
And so......I will drink more fluids, try to eat properly and lay off my dear friend Joe (coffee, that is). And for those of you that are familiar with those incredible little ice tubes located at every hospital nurses station-if you know where I can get them without being admitted into a hospital, please let me know!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Mom Power!



Well....sickness has come, as sickness does. It usually starts with Peyton and one by one we are taken down. Lucy is the sickest at the moment, at least she was as of last night. I fear that my admitting that I might be taking first place might actually make me sicker (is that possible?). I have been to the doctor 3 times in the past 2 weeks. The first was merely for vaccines-this is possibly where we became infected.....we might never know (*insert Twilight Zone music here). It was a few short days after that, that Peyton became congested. I medicated accordingly and watched....waited.....jumped at every sneeze and cough. Before too long (with a bit of Peyton’s help.......blowing in his sister’s face, which he was told NOT to do when he’s sick!) Lucy came down with it. I hate going into the weekend with sick kiddos. Last Friday found us back at the doctor’s office with all of the other sickos! This I thought would be the end of it.....surely I was taking all of the right measures, right? HA! Obviously not....this bug is stronger then any arsenal of medication that I am equipped with. Monday Lucy was worse.....off we flew first thing in the morning to the doctor. I was SO proud of myself.....I pulled up to his office at 8:15 a.m.-sure I had beat all the other sickos there......how wrong I was. I could feel myself getting sick just sitting in the waiting room. Finally, in we went. An hour wait.....a 5 minute visit.....3 prescriptions....2 lollipops......and an INVISIBLE goody bad of cooties later-and we were on our way! I swear we leave with more then we go in there with. I have thought about placing masks over my kids mouths when we go in there, but I love our doctor and would rather not insult him. He clearly is the busiest physician in all of Texas-I have never seen a busier place-not even the bank on a Friday afternoon rivals Dr. Reddy Akkanti’s office in Bastrop, Texas. I think.......possibly we might have a grasp on this thing. Of course, today has to be better then yesterday. Yesterday was a 10 call day. Ten calls to mom that is! I don’t know why I find comfort in her knowing how miserable I am....I just do. Lucy was in a state of hysterics all day.....I felt like a Mac truck ran over my head and burned rubber. So.....I did what any rational 33 year old mother of 2 would do.....call mom! It’s not like she can drop what’s she’s doing and can come over and help. There are 1500 very long miles between us-Maybe it’s the sound of her voice....or rather her screaming at the top of her lungs in response to my hysterics that, "I can’t take it anymore....Lucy is crying and Peyton is bored....and Jeremy is working late...and"......"YOU CAN DO IT!" she screams..."YOU WILL DO IT!" All of the sudden there is calm. I hope I have this mom power some day. I hope that once my children grow up and move out-that they will want to hear my voice when they are down or not feeling well. That I can comfort them no matter how many miles are between us. That even when they are adults, I can raise my voice and wipe away all doubts about moving forward (whether it’s job related, relationship related...whatever). That mom power never goes away, my mother has proven that to me. OH! Sure, there are times where she pisses me off.....and I know there are times that I piss her off. We don’t always see eye to eye and I’d be lying to say that our relationship has always been great. I think as an adult I have come to accept her as she is and she has come to accept me as I am. But, it’s moments like this that I catch myself in tears......with a sick baby and feeling ill myself-that I cry to her and beg her..."I am SO sorry for everything I ever did horrible to you......now please make this stop!" I know she has mom power, but I don’t think her mom power can actually alter the behavior of my children (although she "wished" a whiney child on me to make up for all the whining I did to her as a child).....so, maybe mom power is stronger then I think. Maybe we have the power to alter the future.....wish children on our children so that they can relate someday to what we ourselves have been through. I truly hope this is not the case...although I would LOVE some secret power like this, but then I remember what I was like as a teenager-and that thought scares me immensely. So....mom, when you are reading this, bear in mind that I wasn’t misbehaving deliberately....I apologize for dating a 21 year old when I was 15....I apologize for sneaking out at night, skipping school, for going to Miami when I was told I couldn't. I apologize for anything and everything that I did! Maybe, just maybe- grandma wished my behavior on you! Just a thought! (*once again....insert Twilight Zone music here)

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Becoming HER


I didn’t envy HER. I was afraid of HER. Sure, I’d seen her myself, with my own two eyes-she wasn’t a myth. At the speed of light-zooming past me, she was almost always a blur. You could feel the air whiz by as she flew past. When she slowed down long enough for you to catch a glance, she didn’t really look like you thought she would , at least she didn’t to me. (where was HER cape and HER super cool boots?). HER hair was usually up, HER clothes almost always stained, HER ability to grocery shop, wrangle critters, and not skip a beat was amazing. She was amazing to watch. I am of course speaking of the SUPERMOM! Chances are you’ve bumped into HER on one of HER many errands. Flying by with kiddos in tow, HER ears are detuned-she can tell the difference between cries-she often annoys those that don’t have kids, because she can grocery shop, go to the bank, be in any public place-and not be at all phased by HER children’s screams and shrieks! She can do the dishes with one child on HER hip, the other flinging objects at HER and the phone on HER shoulder. There should be an Olympic competition for all that she does.

It wasn’t until I had Lucy that I felt that I was cape worthy. Sure, friends told me prior to that, that I did an unsurmountable amount of tasks in one day. But, with the addition of Lucy-I now become worthy of HER acceptance. She slows down long enough to smile at me in the grocery store, wave at me on walks, and grin at the sounds of me bribing the kids with something to get them to settle down. I am becoming HER-or maybe I already am. I find myself zooming in the grocery store so fast that there is a tornado of air swirling behind me, I all of the sudden have "shopping cart radar"-I know when Peyton puts something in the cart just by the sheer weight of the cart (if I wasn’t becoming HER, how else could I sense that a 1 pound package of Gogurt made it’s way into an already 75 pound shopping cart?). No one really envies HER, but they admire HER. She has the ability to not just leap tall buildings in a single bound, but do so while carrying one child on HER hip, cooking four different dinners and answering questions like "How do you become an angel?".

I am honored to receive HER recognition. HER smile is like a secret handshake. She knows, she understands. Like our mother’s and their mother’s and their mother’s mothers-we are all cape worthy! If you aren’t HER yet, just wait-it will happen. It’s like waking up to a pimple on your face, one day it’s just there-no sign of it even coming. BAM! You are HER!

If you were once HER, you can understand. If you are becoming HER, you have NO idea what you’re in store for. If you are HER, take pride in knowing you are in fact a superhero!!

Friday, February 03, 2006

Coming Clean


While a friend and I vented on the phone this morning, each discussing the other persons children and what both of us had possibly done to deserve the behavior and harsh words we are the recipients of-I realized something. I don’t think that this is a "misery loves company situation", but more of a "the edge is A LOT closer then we think, now throw me a line sister before I go overboard" situation. As we laughed at our abilities to act just like our children (her 6 year old and my 5 year old)-I found myself intrigued and baffled by our behavior and our readiness to share it with one another.
She declared that she had a horrible morning and found herself poking at her 6 year old, "you’re gonna be tardy, you’re gonna be tardy"-because her 6 year old wouldn’t get her booty moving to get to school. Now, I dare to openly admit that I have taunted my dear 5 year old in the same manner....hips swaying from side to side, finger waving in the air with a sing songy, "nah nah nah nah nah nah" thing happening. Is this okay? Am I doing any permanent harm here?
My husband has asked, "How many 5 year olds live in this house?" I think this behavior happens when we are getting close to that edge. We throw out life preservers to one another in the hopes that we can stop this silly behavior and yet we laugh at it hysterically-laughter IS the closest thing to crying after all.
And while I am coming clean on some of my childish behavior.........when my kids get upset over something (something small.....not something tear worthy where blood or bodily harm are involved) I sing "It’s the end of the world as we know it......" by REM. Okay...there’s more! When Peyton went through his "WHY?" phase and asked non-stop a million times a day....."Why? Why? Why?" I would sing that glorious Carpenter’s song (ARGH! I can’t believe I am admitting this!) "Why do bird’s suddenly appear......every time, you are near..." I did that so much to the poor kid that I think he thought it was a cool song and would sing it to dad (who found it annoying, more than entertaining!). OH! And I sing the circus theme music when I get SUPER stressed! Fine! One more thing......when they walk around saying, "Mom, mama...MOM!" I blast off into Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen...."Mamaaaaa....oooh oooh ooooh...." I am noticing a trend here.........I sing in some manner when I am getting close to the edge....I don’t have a good voice, so maybe I am trying to torture the poor darlings with my voice. Or maybe I am sending out a call to all those other mothers-maybe that horrible tone that I carry is just the pitch it has to be to send out an SOS.
Nonetheless-there you have it mom’s! Jump on in......there’s plenty-o-room in this boat! Don’t hang your head in shame at this behavior...no, I don’t think it’s the healthiest thing in the world for our little spud’s-but if it keeps us from going completely over the edge, go ahead-act like your kid.....sing a little song, do a little dance.
Hell, our mom’s will be down there if we do go over the edge......because you KNOW they did the same thing to us!!! Right, mom?

Thursday, February 02, 2006

M.I.A.-(my former self)




She is about 5' 7", fresh from the bottle red hair-cute, if I do say so myself. She is outspoken, carefree and artistic. Passionate and loyal, almost to a fault. I think the last time I saw her was about 5 years ago. She walked out the door and never came back, didn’t even say good-bye (bitch! Did I mention she was GREAT at being a bitch? I say that with the utmost respect).
I mourn her and wonder where she is today. Is she tired and cold? I should note that it’s not that I don’t like where I am today. I love my husband and my children very, very much. I swore before Peyton was born that I would not lose myself in mothering-I would fight it, a happy, healthy mom-will breed children of the same. Right? Maybe it was the pregnancy that scared her away-or the baby crying. I read books, searched the internet-I feared she would leave, that it would be too much for even her to handle. I could remain in the art scene and raise a child and create in my darkroom and do the shopping and the laundry and pay the bills and........who was I kidding? Her....I was kidding her, there was no way I could do it all. And so she left. I went from Dektol and chemical stained clothes to spit up and poop covered clothes. I longed for a shower, a nap and anything that would get the creative juices (not the apple juice) flowing again. After 4 years of her missing-Lucy was born, but with Lucy has come this change-an SOS maybe. Is she coming home? Is it the fear of having my daughter lose herself someday that has brought her back to me a little bit. With each passing day I sense she is closer and closer. The camera comes out of the bag more frequently, I am trying to be less passive and more aggressive. I still long for quiet time, sitting by myself or staring into my husbands beautiful blue eyes without someone chattering away or flinging something at me. I am starting to loosen up a little bit more, if the dishes don’t get done immediately it isn’t the end of the world. If the house is a little bit messy no one is going to judge me. If Peyton decides he wants a peanut butter cup as part of his dinner, he’s not going wind up a sugar freak, peanut butter cups are a GREAT source of protein, right? I am wearing my hair down more often and starting to realize that even if father time were on my side, there still wouldn’t be enough hours in the day to do it all.
So, if you happen to see her, please let her know I miss her terribly. Tell her I am lightening up a bit, things are a bit less chaotic (depending on the day of the week), and that not only do I need her, but Lucy does as well. Surely, she wouldn’t deprive Lucy. So that’s my APB! And for those of you that have a M.I.A. former self-send out an APB, call in the troops, let your hair down more and don’t stress the small stuff.
NOW, PLEASE COME HOME!