Cheater September 3, 2009

OK, I am exactly one week late on blogging about this but hopefully some of you missed this last week as well. As it turns out, a wife in VA found evidence of her husband cheating – she found it on his cell phone – so what did she do?

She made him stand on Leesburg Pike during rush hour wearing a huge sign that reads “I Cheated. This is my punishment.” Apparently he was out there from about 9am – 11am last Wednesday. I would have made him stand out there for more than a day.

But honestly, hats off to this super pissed off wife. Presumably she’s taken him back after he fulfilled his public humiliation assignment. And apparently he wouldn’t speak to the many people who tried to interview him because he didn’t want to get into more trouble.

But seriously, she obviously felt very humiliated and returned the feeling to him. There’s something to be said for it.

Here’s the hilarious link

OK – Thursday morning update – the whole thing was a hoax put on by radio station 99.5 – check out the story in today’s Post style section. What a shame!

What’s wrong with a wife? September 1, 2009

The NYT Modern Love column is something I look forward too every Sunday. Typically I am pacing for the paper to be delievered because that is my sad life. It’s true. I am generally fired up every Sunday when I check and check and recheck and the paper still isn’t there, only for my lazy slovenly, good for nothing NYT delivery person to toss it into my yard around 8am.

I mean really. We are like 2.5 hours into our day by then, why do I have to pace for it? Its sad really.

So, back to the column. I think Sunday’s column is the first time I’ve been not only pissed off as I read it but also confused. I needed to read it a few more times to even make sense out of what the point of it was.

The writer had me with the first sentence, I was seething, as she bragged about how she has a big job and two kids and how when other working moms comment that she must be so busy, her response was a flippant “Not really, my wife stays home.” Imagine if a man responded in such a fashion. We’d be organizing to burn and pillage his home, decrying him as the world’s biggest chauvinist and wondering why in the world he doesn’t pick up some slack around home to appreciate just how much is wife makes his successful career possible.

Yet instead, because the author is female, we are supposed to accept her obnoxious statement and appreciate that it’s a column about gay women raising children and the struggles with what to call each other.  But not me. I’m pissed off at how obnoxious she is regarding the ease with which she maintains her career because she has a wife at home. Then she goes on to berate straight women in marriages because essentially we take on too much and are power hungry and refuse to relinquish tasks to our husbands, as she so gallantly did to her wife (after implying her wife still doesn’t do it all as well as she would and flat out stating it took her 18 months to accept her wife’s way).

How noble of the author to admit that her career is successful and she is able to maintain it and manage it all because she has an organized wife at home. Isn’t the reality that most women take on the majority of these tasks – whether they work or stay home – and when they stay home, they do so because that is their job but when they work, they do so because these things help them stay connected and involved in the lives of their children in the way that they would want too, if they were home. 

But then she cuts at the heart of at the biggest point of contention among almost every woman with kids I know – the unbalanced workload between husbands and wives. While her arrogance and judgement irritated the hell out of me – she still made a legitimate point in that having a more involved husband at home means relinquishing control and letting him take charge of some duties – without berating him for doing it differently than we would.

What a conundrum I find myself in – both loathing and appreciating some of the words of this woman. And she’s right. We all want our husbands to take on more work around the house, really to just take initiative. To notice when something needs done, cleaning, fixing, purchased at the store, and just do it – without being asked or handed a list. And I do think that this behavior happens more often with positive reinforcement, like that of a child pushing boundaries – the more praise and recognition we heap on them for menial tasks, the more inclined they are to do them. I think if we critique what they do constantly or we don’t ever ask them to do it because we figure that is more work than just doing it ourselves, then we forfeit the right to complain about our husbands because we are enabling them NOT to be a true partner.

Then the author goes back to what was her original point of their identities as two women, both wives, and how to refer to each other publicly. At the onset of their relationship, they felt it was very in-your-face to people to refer to each other as wives, both because it is unexpected and the word “wife” has such negative connotations.

Now here’s something else I have a beef with. Why is this? And why are other women reinforcing this notion? Why is someone who manages the house, primarily raises the children to be upstanding and responsible members of society, and keeps food on the table and clean clothes on everyone’s bodies – why is this condescending and something we recoil over? Aren’t we way past that? Haven’t we all recognized that many women deliberately choose this path and take great pride in it, often times finding it more fulfilling than some dumb job in a cube.

I couldn’t believe this made it into the Sunday NYT.

The KT List: Beach Edition August 21, 2009

I’ve spent a good part of the summer at the beach. From my many trips alone with the girls, we know I’ve concluded one important thing: husbands are good for hauling crap onto the beach. Divorce would be bad.

I’ve also had a few months to put together my list of beach essentials.  Before you go on, a few notes. First, I am not a minimalist. If you are a minimalist, then KT’s beach survival list is not for you. Also, this list is particularly useful if you have more than one child. I didn’t necessarily need all of these things last summer. And well, I’m a gal who likes to need and collect things, so I do not say that lightly.

I made my peace with the true fact that I am no longer able to toss a few gossip rags, a bottle of water, some sun block (who the hell has time to apply sun block anymore?), and a cheesy beach read into a cute straw beach bag, grab a chair and hit the beach. Those days are long gone. As they are for you. So here goes, kittens.

Topping the list, without a doubt, is the very thing that saved summer. If you are a regular beach-goer, then this item is a must have. Easily the best $80 or so I’ve ever spent. And once you own one, you will note that it is like a veritable convention of these surrounding your beach camp each and every time you go. And if you relish in shopping, as do I, then you will size up the cousins of this contraption and determine that your deluxe model, with it’s big wheels fit for pulling over sand with relative ease (for the husband, of course), was well worth the extra cash.

Behold the Wonder Wheeler Deluxe - in all of its plastic perfection and big wheeled glory.  It is the ultimate visual representation of parenthood, of dorkiness, the minivan of the beach, if you will. Being seen pulling or standing close to one of these tells the skinny bikini clad teens and young lovers around you that you gave up on being cool a long time ago. And as I went to dig up the link – don’t think my stomach didn’t turn upon realizing this life-saver of summer is now on sale for HALF PRICE. The rush I get from a great deal on a great item keeps me going for months, I almost want to buy them in bulk now and then sell them to others at the onset of Memorial Day 2010.  The only thing this summer champ can’t do is carry a baby – and don’t think I didn’t consider where a baby might be strapped in, similar to a baby bjorn, thereby freeing up both hands of one parent (the one clever enough not to be pulling or pushing the WWD).  I considered how the sturdier baby just might be fine sitting in the main basket. Trust me, desperate times call for desperate considerations.

So now that I’ve tipped you off on the ease of transporting all the gear, including chairs and the ever-important beach umbrella, to and from the beach, let’s now get into the actual gear.

Surviving two hours on the beach with two children under the age of 4 is no small feat.

Because DD2 was immobile way back in May, and in my naivete I presumed she would be immobile all summer long as was her sister, I purchased the covered tent for baby. As luck wouldn’t have it, she was crawling shortly after July 4 and so she maybe played and napped in the thing twice before she spent her next visit pushing her head up against the mesh netting that was zipped closed and them promptly began screaming bloody murder for someone to retrieve her. So – it worked well for DD1 and was a total waste for DD2, and as any self-respecting shopping lover would do, I lost the first tent from DD1. So we have this useless second one. IF she had stayed immobile, as I had planned, then it would have been a real asset to our beach-going experience.

Which brings us to our second question: how to keep the mobile baby distracted long enough not to eat a pound of sand each beach visit?

Enter the baby pool. You got it. We are big fans of the baby pool on the beach, steps from the ocean, filled with like 3 centimeters of water. I don’t think the baby pool will be useful for us next summer, but it was a life saver this summer and because DD2 would play in the pool with rubber ducks and whatever else she could find, DD1 was then interested in playing in the pool and ripping all the toys from DD2 hands (read: enabling some ‘relaxation’ time for us away from playing “let’s jump waves” in the ocean).  The baby pool gets ranked second for me after my beloved WWD.

In case you’ve lost track, you are now hauling several chairs, a baby pool, a baby tent, gobs of beach toys, towels, a cooler, snacks and a beach umbrella to the beach. If you are anything like me, you are wondering why in the hell you are even bothering.

Which brings me to the joys of applying sunscreen. I don’t know about your children but applying sunscreen to DD1 is like chasing around a chicken whose head was just cut off. As it turned out, the Coppertone Water Babies sunscreen in the form of roll-on, that she could apply herself (Miss “I’m three, I can do it by MYSELF”), eased my pain and misery. I can’t recommend this product enough if you don’t already have it or if your child hasn’t turned into the taz devil yet when trying to apply sunscreen.

And finally, let’s end with me. I still haven’t found that fabulous, stylish and practical beach cover-up.  Happy summer kittens, there isn’t much left to go.

Staying Home July 21, 2009

I’m 3.5 months into my new stay-at-home gig. Everyone loves to ask me how it’s going, am I getting bored yet, will I go back to work, do I like it, what is different now?

Here’s my view on adjusting to life at home after a 13 year career.

First – am I getting bored yet. I love that one. The answer to that is a resounding – NO. I dream of the day when I have time to actually get bored. Don’t you?  The correct question would be this – are you frustrated yet?

The answer to that is – it depends on the day but frustration is, indeed, a frequent and regular part of my daily routine. But I’m preaching to the choir on that one.

Will I go back to work?

I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps the novelty hasn’t worn off yet but I wouldn’t even consider going back to work right now even if some opportunity came knocking on my door. Which it hasn’t. I love being home, frustration and all. I love taking and picking up DD1 from school, I love spending my days with them, I do not even think about going back to work on my worst days.  It’s also very liberating for me to just have no career plan. It is what it is. I am home. I dig it. I am aware every day that I am lucky to have the opportunity to stay home.

One thing that is very different is my stress level. I enjoy not having to worry about a nanny being sick, if the nanny  is keeping the baby on a feed schedule, let alone the annoyance of not finding things in my own house because someone has been there all day. Of course, there are stresses that come with staying home all day – so again – it’s all just different – but I like it like that.

What is different now?

OK. This one is something I think about a lot. The truth is, I am barking at and frustrated with my husband way more now than I was before. Is this because I am home or is it because life is just harder with more kids? That I don’t know the answer too because for us, both things happened at basically the same time. But this is just the truth. You read KT because I tell it like it is – this is my new reality. Is there more bickering because we are still adjusting to life with 2 in combo with the ongoing challenges that come with a more sophisticated older child? Perhaps. The topic of discipline or failure to discipline- is a hot and regular topic around my house – and trust me – no one’s ripping their clothes off over this hot topic. The only thing rising in anyone’s body is my blood pressure.

And am I barking at DH more because I am home more now, therefore I am doing more house things – like picking up and laundry – than I did before – or am I barking at him because I spend enough time picking up after two kids, I don’t need or want a third to pick up after? I’m not sure. But don’t think I haven’t hatched a plan that includes shoving his boxers that are dropped at the foot of the laundry basket (I’m seriously not even exaggerating), or his socks strew in random rooms (did he find them there? No.) – into his pillow case – and just waiting to see how long it takes him to notice. I mean, why shouldn’t I? Do the boxers or socks belong in his pillow case any more than they belong at the foot of the laundry basket (I mean, come on) or on the dining room floor?  

So there is more barking and argumentative conversations than there was before. Would this be the case if I were still working full-time? Possibly. Would they be about different things? Probably.

So what next?

Despite the bickering, the frustration and the endless laundry, I couldn’t be happier and love not sitting behind a desk all day. Is it true that I secretly dread August, what with no camps, no grandparents in town and no help? Probably. But me and the girls will survive – we have fun every day.  It’s totally worth it.

Divide and Conquer July 15, 2009

When I was pregnant the second time around, I didn’t read one book about it. Why would I? Lord knows it didn’t do much good to read many books during my first pregnancy. But what I did notice was that there wasn’t much out there about the second pregnancy – or really any subsequent pregnancies once you’ve been through it before.

I wondered why because well – it actually seems like there are still lots of questions and unknowns when you are pregnant the second time. Perhaps you suffer from too much information, ranging from the reality of delivery to the reality of life with a newborn. But I know I still wondered about all the other unknowns – what would this baby be like, how would my first child adjust to life with a sibling, how would we manage it all?

That one didn’t haunt me like the general notion of actually being responsible for a life haunted me the first time around, but I sure did wonder how we would manage it all.

I would ask DH this question some nights when it was really gnawing away at me. As usual, he was super laid back about it and just figured it would work itself out.

Uh huh.

Well, 8 months in, it has definitely worked itself out and we are managing it, just like everyone else does. But there’s just one thing I didn’t anticipate and sometimes it makes me sad. Often times, the easiest way to manage it is to divide and conquer. One takes DD1 out to some fun activity (which realistically with a 3-year-old is somewhat draining and leaves that parent asking themself this question: was this really worth the effort, let alone the cash?), and the other stays home with DD2. During the week, DD2 is toted around at the whim of DD1’s schedule. She spends more time in the car seat in a week than DD1 did in the first year of her life and the poor kid only gets a consistent nap in the afternoon when DD1 is also napping.

Therefore, on the weekend, when there are two adults around, we must let DD2 have the sort of day that DD1 enjoyed her whole life. So given the realities of a baby’s schedule, all the bottles, the meals, the naps, the poops, etc, one parent spends much of that day at home.

Ultimately it becomes the easier day, so technically that is the “break” that say one parent might have gotten in the days of yore when there was only one child at home. But it means we’re not out experiencing things as a family.

July 4 fireworks? DH stayed home with DD2.

Concert on the boardwalk last saturday night – grandpa is finally back in town – so he got to stay home with DD2.

Santa visits last December? I stayed home while DH went out with DD1.

You get it.

I just didn’t anticipate this one.

I know this will change as DD2 gets older and ultimately has an easier schedule, feeds less, naps less, etc. But for now, divide and conquer is the name of the game each and every weekend.

Cheap Labor July 2, 2009

I’ve been down at the beach with the two girls for the past three days. It is untrue to say that I am alone because, well, the girls are people too, but they are helpless, therefore I am alone with a 3.5 year old and a 7 month old. I believe that every time I venture out of the house, this question is relevant “Is this trip more effort than it is worth?”

I knew the answer to that question before I left home was a resounding yes, but still, it’s summer, shouldn’t I be at the beach with the girls?

But see – the logistics are very complicated. How does one tote all the beach crap, a 7 month old and a 3.5 year old onto a beach by themsleves?  Let alone watch a baby to make sure she doesn’t get stolen (or more realistically, swallow too much sand?) when the older sibling is apparently a daredevil and has no fear of 10 foot waves or the fierce Atlantic undertoe? The only way I pulled the beach trip off was because we met some friends from school on the beach, who after witnessing DD1’s extreme obsession with huge waves and no fear, admitted that they would have never believed it until seeing it with their own eyes. She is insane. I like that about her but sometimes, sometimes, it’s hard. Perhaps she needs some mud and a dirt bike next?

So yesterday, as my friend was helping me trudge the stroller and the crap (which I signficantly minimized as compared to what I usually pack up when say, darling husband, is here) all of this leaves me reaching the same conclusion:

Divorce = terrible idea

Dads = awesome cheap labor

Particularly when it comes to toting lots of crap and small children onto and off the beach, pulling around toddlers in the pool, and preventing small children from getting swept off to sea.

These are dad jobs in my house.

Dads = good.

No dads at beach = difficult time.

I have no problems shutting down and “playing in the sand” at the beach while DH races back and forth to water with DD1, and fills up endless amounts of water in buckets for DD1 to immediately dump all over the place. Someone has to take on the difficult task of keeping an eye on the immobile baby, right?

Right.

So we trash husbands a lot here – but today – I salute you, dear husbands!

And you better believe, mine has received several threatening emails about getting his ass down here – STAT.

Kids & Hot Cars June 26, 2009

“Good mothers don’t do this,”  wept a mother during a police interview after she realized she’d left her daughter in a hot car for 8 hours one August. I saw her on Oprah this week.

Every summer we hear about parents who leave their kids in a hot car all day and they die from heat stroke.

Every summer I am riddled with questions and am mystified by this story. Having previously worked in the auto industry, it was also a heated topic of discussion at my office as these stories broke each summer. Everyone has really strong opinions on this one.

I am just confused. I find that the people who don’t yet have children seem to have really strong black & white convictions that this is an absurd and totally avoidable scenario and the guilty parent should be sent to jail for killing a child.

I definitely don’t see it that clearly but I’m not without judgment.  This spring the Washington Post had a really long Magazine story about this very issue, featuring several parents who had all suffered the loss of a young child at their own hands by leaving them in a hot car.  I cried several times while reading it.

For me, the most chilling point made in the piece was made by a shrink who said that if you have ever left your cell phone at home, then you are capable of leaving your child in a car. It’s how your mind works.

But here’s my first question – how do you go an entire work day without checking on your child? This is the part that I just can’t get past. I had a routine of checking in twice a day. Is that psycho? Is that too much? I have no idea. It’s what I did because I enjoyed hearing an update on DD1’s day, how her day was at school, whatever it was she was up too. Sometimes I missed a call from our nanny and wouldn’t return it until prior to leaving for the day, but the point is – I knew she was alive and kicking.

So here you go – this is the main question I have on this issue that I just cannot get past. How do you not check on your kids during the work day? I do not believe that anyone is too busy to do this. No one. Don’t kid yourselves into thinking your work is that important, right? Now would this avoid the death of a child? I’m not sure. Would they still be alive 4 hours into being left in a hot car? I have no idea. So is this a worthwhile question? Who knows. But this is my blog, so it’s my main question.

Moving on – what does this say about our society? At what point do we stop and take stock of our lives – not just the parents who have suffered this horrendous loss – but all of us – and really digest that this is happening? And repeatedly.  What does it say specifically about parenthood and how much parents are juggling that their mind can shut off and they can leave a beloved child in a car to die?  This scenario spreads across race and class lines – from pediatricians to electricians – moms and dads. At what point do we all stop with the madness and cut a few things out of our life to help avoid this scenario – to stop being stretched too thin?

I just can’t let it go. I don’t understand how you can forget your child is in your car. I feel like as a parent who has felt stretched far too thin, I can say this. Maybe my kids are just loud. But I just don’t get it. Yet it’s happening – so what do we need to change about our lives? Do people put unrealistic pressure on themselves to be this perfect parent? Because if that’s the case, then they’re idiots. Isn’t doing our best, enough? And just being satisfied with your best might help cut some things out? I just don’t know. I’m brainstorming here because the idea of a child suffering a horrible death in a hot car for 8 hours warrants some serious brainstorming.

And then what about the parent who did this? Do they deserve to go to jail? Again, I’ve heard many childless friends speak very clearly that they have killed a child and should pay their dues. I’d argue that having to live the rest of their life knowing what they’ve done is punishment enough. My mom also thinks they should go to jail and well, she has 4 kids. I just don’t know.  I definitely don’t see it clearly but like I said before, I am not able to suspend all of my judgment of these parents. I have issues with it.

It’s a horrible horrible reality. And it seems that if we all took a step back and really took stock of our whole lives, maybe there wouldn’t be this sensation of being stretched too thin. Maybe our best is good enough. Perfection is absurd. I definitely am sure on that one.

Another Betrayed Wife June 25, 2009

Anyone else keeping tabs on all the politicians, their affairs, the press conferences announcing it and the role of the betrayed wife? For all you loyal KT followers out there – and let me tell you – there are so many of you – you know that I love to observe these antics.

Obviously I am talking about the latest news of Governor Sanford taking off to parts unknown – as it turns out Argentina – because of his affair with a woman. Over the weekend, DH showed an unusual amount of interest in the story of the  MIA Governor. He was so sure it was going to be yet another salacious gay affair. His sudden interest amused me and well – we all knew the dear old conservative Christian Governor was either dead or clearly having an affair with someone. The fact that he left the country and headed to Argentina, where the beaches are amazing and the women gorgeous, truthfully does make it all the more interesting. Certainly something you can almost digest much easier than approaching people in, say, an airport bathroom stall. Or even moving hookers across state lines (I’m still miffed that Spitzer didn’t think our hookers here in DC were good enough for him).

But that’s not what today’s entry is about. It’s about the betrayed wife. We’ve stood there in disbelief and wondered what are they thinking – good ole Hilary, McGreevey’s wife, how about Spitzer’s wife? I mean seriously. Then came Elizabeth Edwards – we all took note that when John went on ABC Primetime in December to disclose the truth behind his affair, Elizabeth wasn’t there. I don’t know about you, but I totally respected her for it. I keep wondering – why should the wife give a crap about the husband’s career and show the voters that if she trusts him, we should, when he can’t keep his pants on? It’s so humiliating…..why stand there?

So Elizabeth stayed away.

And now we see Governor Sanford’s wife was decidedly absent during his odd, rambling, press conference yesterday. In fact, I read that she hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks.

Are we turning the tide here kittens? Are the scored political wives finally standing firm and giving their husbands the big “F You” very publicly by not standing there? I’m really hoping so because in that moment of political disaster for their careers, they ought to be up there alone, facing the cameras. You reap what you sow, boys.

But see – this time – this story is giving me pause beyond just the initial public reaction of the wife. It’s really about the dissolution of the marriage. A KT BFF who might be almost 40, though she doesn’t look a day over 21, a while back commented on how in the 30s, everyone is getting married and having babies. But she’d noticed amongst her 40 year old friends, everyone was divorcing.

This passing comment really stuck with me.

And then I look at Governor Sanford and his beautiful wife and their four boys and I wonder – what the hell is happening to these marriages after so many years? And though I’m not 40 yet, it’s coming a bit faster than I’d like, and so I can’t help but wonder. In particular now that I have two kids, it seems even more complicated, to deal with a divorce than it did after one kid. Everything just is even more intertwined. So how does this happen? Why does it happen? Do people just get bored after almost 20 years together and things die off?

For whatever reason, I am viewing this latest political scandal through a different lens, more sadness, and just wondering why and how the hell do people avoid it.

Emailing at O’Dark Thirty June 17, 2009

Look – don’t pretend like you’ve never done this. And if you haven’t, I bet you’ve thought about it. And if you’ve seriously never found yourself in this position – then that annoys me.

Are we all familiar with the enraged email that you bang out – usually to your spouse – at o’dark thirty? When you know that you probably shouldn’t be sending it and you know it definitely isn’t productive – and odds are it might not even be his fault – but really – he’s the one who got you pregnant and it’s therefore it’s his kid that has you up at that time- and he’s not there to help you deal – so really – isn’t it oh so cathartic?

It just  might be oh so wrong.

But it feels just so right.

And frankly – very little feels right at 4am. When you’ve been up for an hour already. And you don’t know when it’ll end but you know the sun comes up around 5:30am, therefore DD1 (who is also the child of said male you are sending threatening emails too, therefore it’s his fault) will be up – so really – your day began at 3am.

So why send the threatening email at o’dark thirty?

Why the hell not. KT might have found herself doing such a thing on Tuesday morning. I was all by my lonesome. This was the second hard night I’d had in a row with DD2, it was absurd that she had been up since 3am.Meanwhile DH was peacefully sawing logs back at home, with nary a care in the world, and an empty house facing him when he arose that morning. He could take his time, slumber around, do whatever the f he wanted before going to work, when he woke up.

But me? Oh hell no.

So is sending the threatening “get your ass to work early so that you can get home at a decent time and give me help or you are dead f’ing meat because I’ve already been up for an hour and it’s f’ing 4am” email a good idea?  I’m thinking YES because it just feels great to bang that out. Now doesn’t it?

Haven’t you done something similar?

I know that I cannot be alone in this, kittens. Fess up.

But see – this brings up another topic. The threat built into the email. Even if you haven’t sent your DH a threatening email at 4am, admit that you’ve sent him a threatening email. And the thing is, I really have found that when they know we really mean it, we finally get some action. Why do they respond to threats or yelling? Cause I know we don’t want to hear threats and yelling coming out of our mouths (well, actually, frankly, threats at 4am when I know he is sleeping elsewhere is exactly what I want to hear).

But seriously.

Example – yesterday DH left his office and got home by 4:30pm.

FOUR THIRTY.

Granted he read that email bright and early and actually went to work at 6am. But still. 4:30. It was like a christmas miracle. And it just teaches me that threats work.

Another example – we bought these beautiful number tiles in Provence in June 2007 (back when we had only one kid and we were in France. Alone. Without her. In other words, the glory days of June 2007).  Now, until 2 weeks ago, do you think those beautiful house tiles, that DH himself picked out, had been hung? Mais non! They had been pushed around and the topic of countless discussions and nagging sessions for TWO YEARS.

Well, I woke up with a real bee in my bonnet that morning and really laid into him. And you know what? Those tiles were hung that very day – he just quietly got to work and got it done (in like an hour, I might add, so if you count up all the time I’ve asked, pleaded, begged, nagged and most recently yelled, I spent more time asking than it took to complete). They look so great and now the front of my house looks how it’s supposed to look – dressed up with numbers from Provence.

So why do they respond to threats and yelling? Why? Why? Why? Cause the truth is, unless it is 4am, I really actually don’t want to do those things.

Yet between coming home at 4:30pm and hanging my French house numbers – you think I’m gonna refrain from a little yell or a threatening email again, when the opportunity presents itself?

Oh hell no.

Am I alone here, kittens?

3,2,1….BLAST-OFF June 14, 2009

That is how I feel as each day starts, as the sun is barely rising over the horizon……..it’s like we blast-off at mach 10 and there is barely a second to think until 14 hours have passed.

Life with two kids is exhausting.

Let me write that again – this time imagine it in 84 point font in bold – EXHAUSTING.

Lately I hear myself sound like that mom. You know that one that you hear at the park and you’re horrified and think to yourself, I will never bark at my kids like that and be so impatient. You know that one that you are rolling your eyes at in horror.

Remember one of the fight club rules at KT? Whenever you think you won’t be that person or it won’t happen to you – it will and it does – and usually worse than you think.

So clearly I need a break. I think two weeks of sick kids, including an emergency 24 hour hospitalization for DD1 (and yes, of course I was alone with both kids at the docs when we were rushed to the hospital) – hasn’t helped and has in fact, made me raw and beyond the point of exhausted. But still. Wow. This is hard.

At first, I really didn’t think adjusting to two was that big of a deal. Newborns are easy, I thought. And honestly, compared to an insane toddler and when you are doing it the second time around, newborns really are easy (with the exception of colicky babies or an illness). All they do is sleep. Sure they don’t sleep a lot and so you don’t either but that’s nothing new – so it’s not a hard transition.

But then they start to grow up. They sleep less, they regress in sleeping patterns, they learn more about what they want, they whine endlessly between 5-7pm, they become more demanding because well – they are older and wiser.

And your older one is still, well, demanding – because at least mine is 3.5. She’s old enough to assert her independence and want to do everything herself – but that can be very frustrating and time consuming and patience exhausting.

It’s funny – it’s like they play tag with you. DD2 is easy because she eats whatever I put in front of her. With DD1, most meals and even getting her to eat is a battle. An exhausting, draining one. But I won’t back down, she needs to eat and “healthy choices” is a constant phrase around my house.

Then it’s nap time. DD1 goes right to bed. DD2, she fights me and drags it out, then I get her to sleep, then she wakes up literally 45 minutes later and up I go again to get her back down, and so it goes. It’s always something.

Through this, don’t get me wrong. I love love love being home – I never once find myself missing work or feeling like I am missing out or wishing I could put on a suit. I would honestly tell you if I did. And I love our lazy afternoons at the park, watching DD1 and DD2 make each other laugh and giggle, or painting at 11am on a random Tuesday.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not tired to the bone and wondering when things will ease up. Most days I feel steamrolled.

I used to go to the gym at 6am because it was the only time of day I could workout. It still is the only time of day I can workout but now I go to the gym at that time because I need to get the f out of the house and be by myself and have quiet time. It gives me the strength to power through the next few hours.

I was the sleep police with DD1 and I still am with DD2. The reality of naps for the second child is that it revolves around the schedule of the older child. This kinda sucks for the second kid but whatever, if you have an active 3 year old in your house, you know you need to get the hell out and just hope the baby will sleep in the stroller (mine, as it turns out, refuses to do that). The good thing is that morning naps for DD2 are spotty but I’ve forced them both onto the same afternoon nap. Sometimes I do get 2 hours of quiet time at the same time. Not every day – DD2 often wakes up mid-way through her nap and needs help getting back down – but I stand firm. At least this time round, I know that these phases will pass and I remind myself of that over and over again as I am feeling raw and like I’m going to lose it.

Blast-off is really the only way for me to summarize life with a 3.5 year old and a six-month old. I was reading an entry on the Washington Post “On Parenting” blog and it’s what really spurred me to write this entry. The author wrote that when you add a second child to the house, you are adding a whole new set of needs and demands and wants but the number of parent hands stays the same. Indeed. And it means a whole lot more work for daddy, that second child.

DH is very helpful with the kids, I really cannot complain about that, and he can see when I am teetering on the edge and will suggest I get out. But I’ve also really worked hard at actively carving out time for myself on the weekends. I think it’s the key to my survival but also it’s important for him to be alone with them. Not because he doesn’t know how to care for them but because I think it’s important for them to just have daddy time.

At first, DH just had to take over care for DD1. I had a c-section with DD2 and physically couldn’t manage a 3-year old for at least the first three weeks. Before DD2 was born, I was the only one that DD1 wanted (I was the only one she wanted for basically the entire second year of her life. That can get old). The end of my pregnancy really changed that because I also couldn’t carry her upstairs anymore or manage wrestling her onto the potty. So she had to learn to accept daddy in her life. It was a battle. She really was only-mommy, all the time for so long, but I knew I needed to step back for her sake because I knew daddy was the best she could get once DD2 arrived. She eventually relented and realized that daddy was pretty awesome, so it was fine for her that daddy was on full-court press with DD1 with the arrival of DD2.

Now that I have been home for two months, she’s easing back into an only-mommy phase but she’s also older – so you can reason with her or frankly, just ignore it, much easier than you can with a 2-year-old. But daddy’s involvement and participation and help is more crucial than ever. I really have no idea how single moms do it.

So what is my point in all of this? Well, frankly, I just need to blurt it all out because I’m so tired and exhausted and I know it’ll get easier but just blurting it out makes me feel better. My point is also not to scare anyone having a second. Trust me – seeing the siblings laugh together and play together is amazing. It’s amazing like when you have your first and realize what true love is – you remember that feeling? Well, it’s amazing like that.

Everyone has an opinion. Some say the transition from 0-1 is the hardest. Others say the transition from 1-2 is harder because you are already in a routine with the one and it’s a big adjustment. The majority say adding a third isn’t even mentionable once you’ve got two. Right now, I think the transition from 0-1 was the hardest for me because it was just such a shock to my system.  I also know that having a baby and a 3 year old is just hard. It’s universally hard for anyone doing it. They both are so needy and dependent on you, it’s basically unrelenting.

I think the best way to summarize life with two kids is really and truly “BLAST-OFF.”  Strap yourselves in and try to enjoy the ride, kittens.