Road trips. Is there anything that brings a family closer together? Two kids under four years old, two adults under 34 years old, and a car so loaded down we were often confused for the Clampetts. “Hey, ya’ll headin’ to Beverly…Hills that is?” Nope, we were heading to Texas Hill Country, off to see family deep in the heart of barbecue, boots and Friday night football. We left at 6 p.m., and arrived at 2 a.m., hopeful that our late-night travels would be peace and quiet from the back seat. Wrong. They slept a total of two hours. Whee! By the time we exited I-35 to make the short trek to my mother-in-law’s house, we were all delirious. My husband was slapping his face to stay awake (after three energy drinks), and the girls and …
Yeah, I know I look rough. But I had to get up in the middle of the night to write this.
Sup? What, you didn’t know I could talk, let alone type? Well, I can. I can do a lot of things. But you wouldn’t know, would you? It’s always “my preschooler this,” and “my older daughter that.” Like the time she danced and people laughed. Woop-di-freakin-do! I could totally take her in a dance off. Anyways, it’s time you know the truth. I’m tired of living in the shadows. Tired of only being the subject of maybe 20% of my mom’s blog posts. That’s right. I exist. Maybe you didn’t even know that. Sure, my mom may have mentioned she has two daughters, but why doesn’t she ever talk about me? It’s always …
The following is my external/internal dialogue while riding the tiny Ferris Wheel with my preschooler at our small town carnival.
Why am I smiling? Because it’s over.
Oh look, honey, our car is purple! You like purple.
Ohmygosh, that thing is tiny. I’m going to die in a tiny purple Ferris Wheel car!
Ok, sweetie, we put this seat belt over our laps. It will keep us safe. And this bar will, too.
No. It won’t keep us safe, we’re going to fall out and die!
Here we go. It’s going to be so fun. Are you excited?
I don’t want to go. It’s not fun. I’m terrified!
Whee! Look at all the lights!
Craaaaaap! Look at how flimsy this thing is!
Ok, we have to stop for a little bit up here so other people can get off …
Because even when you finally get their room clean, they have a mind of their own. Fact: you can’t get crap done with kids.
Hello friend. How are you? Tired? Overjoyed? Overwhelmed? Whatever you’re feeling, it’s ok. You’re not alone. Millions of mothers have done this before you, and there’s probably nothing you can throw at us that we haven’t heard before. And all those books you read to prepare you? They only tell about half of the story. Yes, they talk about dads taking turns “getting up with the baby during the night.” But you know what? Sometimes this doesn’t happen. Some men are just wired differently and can’t function the next day with little sleep. (Moms always can, even if we’re face-plant tired.) And some men can actually sleep through a baby screaming …
Helping my daughter navigate friendships can be messy, but just like finger painting, it’s worth it!
My preschooler had been peppering me with questions and statements and demands and stories and random animal noises all evening and it was easy, so easy, to tune her out and go about my business with an obligatory “Mm-hmm” and head nod every once in awhile. But as I was brushing out her hair in the bathroom before bed, I felt a pang of guilt. I needed to listen to this child. She was being sweet and curious and I could almost sense the pliability in her young brain, ready to learn.
I opened up my ears, and closed the doors in my mind to outside distractions. I simply focused on my sweet daughter. Her world is rapidly expanding, but …
Right now, my daughter is sleeping. Her blond hair is tousled from erratic tossing and turning, and she’s probably still clinging to her chosen cuddle object of the moment—a wiffle ball bat. Her Little Mermaid jammies are too snug, but she insists on wearing them, for fear that they’ll be handed down to her baby sister once she’s officially outgrown them. Right now, she is blissfully unfettered. Her imagination runs wild, never having been tamed by the four walls of education, until today.
In a few hours, my daughter will enter “the system.” Two years of preschool will be followed by twelve years of “big kid” school (as she calls it), and then….who knows? She’ll be out in the world. Will she attend traditional college? Will …