Mother's Day

"Sorry to break it to you Momma, but Mother's Day is cancelled this year again."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up, hands on knees, your head aimed down like youre tired but you look up at me and smile. You shrug and push off, ambling towards the door.

Its barely daylight.

"Momma, its early and theyre still asleep. Its gonna be a busy day today, you dont get that rest."

We've made it to the kitchen where the first rays are crossing the living room through the balcony curtains to streak the cabinets and counter tops cleaned just last night. You've reached the coffee maker, filled up the pot and start counting the scoops of grounds.

"Didnt you hear me Momma?"

Pressing the start button, you nod.

To you, its like I didnt say a word and I didnt just cancel your day.

But I see you Momma.

I see you measuring ingredients and setting out plates just enough so that little hands that want to help can mix and pour all by them selves. I see you acting surprised when they run into the kitchen with eagerness to make you sweet cakes, eggies and toast for your Mother's Day. Giggling because they get to treat momma to breakfast.

"She'll be so happy!"

I see you cleaning up the mess, Momma. I see you doing the dishes.

I see your lap crowded with paper flowers you taught them to make, cards you gave them petty cash for, their inscriptions spelled out by you when they ask: "Momma, how do I spell Happy? One P or two?"

Yet still you smile wide as you read the proclamations of love outloud and shower each one with kisses.

I see you dressing those babies up so beautifully Momma. A brush barely through your hair but the little ones are prancing about in their best.

"Dont I look pretty for you now Momma?" they ask
"You always do."

I see you take them to the park Momma. I see you pushing them on the swing.

"5 more minutes Momma!"

I see you watching them each. Not sitting. Not reading. Not relaxing one bit.

The day is full of activity and the world seems to be out to celebrate their matriarchs; their mothers and grandmothers and aunts. They tote bouquets of lilies and chrysanthymums, tulips and roses. There are ballons and chocolates. New purses and certificates for massages. There are fathers to hold babies and give Momma a rest.

And I see you wiping dirty faces, holding discarded jackets and napkins.

I've seen you running to the school on your lunch because shes forgotten an instrument. Swearing that you ought to teach her a lesson in responsibility by not taking it, and yet you kiss her head before you go and never tell her so.

I see you, sick as a dog, but saving your sick days for those mornings when a Little doesn't feel well. For a field trip needing a chaperone. A teacher parent conference. A play. A day that would be more miserable missed at work while healthy than at that same desk feeling like death. 

I see the other mommas, more troubles than shoulders can hold but never too heavy laden to love their child. To stay up late for them, to go an extra mile. 

I see the Mommas that are Daddies too. 

Momma, there's no rest for you nor any that you'd take. 

I see you momma, this is a Mother's Day. 

Fears

Generally I dread taking my kids out to McDonalds. I keep thinking about that experiment that one teacher started and then everyone followed suit with where they keep a happy meal out on their counter for years. YEARS. And the damn thing still looks like when it was first purchased. Ok maybe slightly withered, but still pretty much the same.

I keep imagining its some silicone or plastic based toy from my daughters' play kitchen and my wonderful little children eat it and it travels down their esophagus and into delicate little girl tummies and then sits there. I imagine that if I were to peek in there years later, all the acid would have failed to change the chicken nuggets and fries much. Im sure thats not how it goes. The lack of nutrition is probably more the focus here but still. Its what my mind conjures.

I was invited to hang out with a group of moms at the local Mcdonalds today to give the kids (and mommas) a chance to socialize during lunch. Lately I avoid these things too. I wasn't going to go but then Aeva ran out of her room sporting her Snow White costume, a pair of oversized heels, massive amounts of jewelry and started to 'mop' the floors.

I think that was her version of my daily routine now a days. Get dressed up...to clean the house.
Not exactly what I want my 2 year old thinking life is all about. So I coerced her in a more play friendly outfit (to which she added a tutu and halloween jewelry), and trekked out to McDonalds.
How do you know that you aren't a regular patron of McD?

You get lost for 30 minutes getting there.

Best part? I got off at the exit that sits directly next to it. And somehow missed it. Aeva passed out in the back with a crown that slid down around her eyes.
But I did it. I did the mommy thing. I paid for two meals if only because mine included coffee (coffee maker failed to brew me a cup this morning, again), and sliced apples and apple juice for Lil Bit.

Boy did she have fun. The play place wasn't too full and Aeva got into all the tunnels, waving enthusiastically from some of the little windows way up high, sliding down the slide and running back to me for juice and apple bites.
Thats when I noticed it.
NO. SOCKS.
I asked Lil Bit where her socks were and she answered with a pull and an "over here". I followed her to the tunnel entrance and watched Aeva disappear with in, yapping about having left her socks somewhere in the maze. As she is climbing I see the bottom of her feet are getting black from...oh Gods...the tunnels..I mean they're tiny for regular sized humans like me. But they're anti microbial right? Surely they get cleaned now and then...Whats that black stuff stuck between the bolted tunnel window and the pastic sides...It must be DEAD SKIN...millions and millions of discarded dead skin cells just sitting there, and layered all over the tunnels...touching my KID!
Just as my mind is ramping up to how not just skin cells but snot and diaper leakage must surely be encrusted all over the handles and walls and steps of the entire Plague Play Place, Aeva appears with a pair of socks.
Its time to go. Neither one of us really ate and my mind is going to make me the germaphobe Im not entirely. It takes a good deal of Purrel to ease the germ fear. At least we were somewhat normal for a good 30 minutes I think. I've done my Mommy duty. I did the right thing. I think.
At any rate I felt accomplished.

That ended shortly after I picked up Iris.

I should know better with this child. She keeps so much inside, and can at the most surprising moments, be so subtle in how she discusses deep thoughts.
Riding home she tells me how much she loves this base compared to the last one we were stationed at. She's only sorry that there isn't a school INSIDE the base, like last time.
Being in a school on base ensures that all the children that attend are also military children, and the teachers and staff are much more well versed in what military children endure than those in a school off base. Its a comfort not only to her but for me.

Iris: Do you think that there will be a school inside the base we are going to next?

She's subtle. But I catch where she's going.

Me: There may be. But we wont be living on base so you wouldn't be able to attend it anyhow.

Iris: Oh. We will be living off base. Will Daddy be living on base?

I don't want to address this right now. Im driving up to the gate guard and I am holding my soon to be gone dependent ID and my kid is rounding the corner of the worst topic now a days. The timing is not for me to decide in this however, its hers.

Me: I dont know. For a while he will be with us. Eventually we won't live in the same house.

She's very silent as we take the short drive to the housing area, passing all of her favorite stationary display airplanes.

Iris: I just wish you and daddy wouldn't divorce.

She pauses and I go to give her the standard 'I know hunny' when in a voice so quiet:

Iris: It was my biggest fear...

And this was mine. I reach over to hold her hand and its limp. Iris is never unresponsive to touch. I squeeze her hand and nothing. Her little fingers just lay open on her lap, as though asking for a different answer than what I can give. I try stroking her hand but my heart is falling quick. She's angry but she's more heart broken than upset. I feel like she's slipping away from me. Im typically so good with words but what do you say to the embodiment of your love and soul? I can't think of anything to mend this and I know it's already too late. In the back of my mind I'm thinking: She's going to hate me.

Everything I say to her next are like drops of water in a void. They get sucked away. Nothing I say about remaining friends with her daddy, or how its not her fault, and how we both love her more than anything helps. Im talking but im hearing it resounding in my head. Im Charlie Brown's teacher. No amount of Purell is going to kill the germ of pain inside of her chest. Its spreading as I see her start to cry. I can't take her home and know that none of the bad can touch her there.

I can;t reach this little one beside me. This little one who was once inside me and knew my heartbeat. My heart grows so heavy I swear it will stop.
Im doing the Mommy duty, but this time...its not the right thing. There's no accomplishments here.

Sometimes I wonder who the parent is...

We had a 2 hour delay today due to 70 degree weather! Round of applause folks!

Texas...youre doing it wrong!

To be fair, we had some flurries yesterday evening here in good 'ol western Texas. I think maybe an inch of it stuck when I ventured out into it yesterday. With in 5 hours it had managed to melt, cause several car accidents, a two hour delay, and bridge closures.

As usual, I didnt get much sleep last night and though the delay afforded us some sleeping in...my children have built in alarm clocks. At precisely 7:30 am, Lil Bit and Big Sister both were up and at my bedside. I dragged my pillow and comforter to the general direction of the couch and made my squinty eyed way to the kitchen to prepare Aeva a bowl of cereal. As is usual I ended up staring at the coffee pot, wondering why it wasnt brewing me a mug. It takes me a while to realize .... i never remember to set it the night before. Someday...someday...

Bowl of some kind of cereal as peace offering for Aeva...I plop down on the couch and try to sneak in 10 minutes of sleep before Iris needs breakfast or Aeva throws something.

Have I ever told you how amazingly awesome these two kids are? No? You havent known me long enough.

I knocked the hell out. It was probably a good 30 minutes before I jolted awake panicking that someone was gonna set the house on fire, or worse...a neighbor would catch me sleeping on the job. What I did come to find was that Iris was dressed, had gotten her own breakfast, and was just finishing making her sister a sippy cup of juice (atleast thats what i think it was). Aeva had effectively climbed out of her high chair and come to sit on my legs while I slept.

Iris: You tired momma?

Aeva: SHH!! Momma sleepin'! Momma I sing: Some weah, over da (big pause) way higggghhhhh...an da *jarbble in the appropriate pitch and melody* dweam you dweam....

Iris: Momma shes singing you her lullabye

Me: Thats very beautiful Aeva, can you sing it again?

Remember when Aeva decided to try wiping her own ass in an attempt to get my attention? Ive been trying to not let it get that far again. So when Aeva, whom had been sent to fetch herself a pair of pants from my room came squealing "LADY BUG!!" .... i turned on my camera :)

Aeva: Dare is a LADYBUG in da ROOM!

Me: Show me

Aeva: NO...I scared.... (as she crawls into the desk cabinet and closes the door)

This is the 'ladybug'.

If you havent caught on by now, Aeva calls scary insects 'ladybug'. 

And thats a tangle of hair.

Brave child surprises me and swoops in yelling: "I get it for you momma!"

"EEk! Isa Lady BUGGG!"

"I frowe it away momma"

Ive always held that kids exhibit primarily that which they are taught through actions.  Its not what you tell them to do, or what say to them when youre 'instructing'. Its what they catch between the lines of your parenting. 

Compassion. Caring for others. Bravery. Family.

Somehow I think Im learning more about myself through these two blonde babes than through any self-help book that has been shoved my way in the past few years. 

You know what...NOW I know why Aeva calls bugs 'Ladybug'....

Her room has always been excessively decked out in ladybugs and dragonflies....trauma??

Parental Failure

I have a lot of really awesome and supportive friends that make a gal feel confident about this whole divorce and single-mommahood thing.
They use great words like : Strong, Independent, Responsible, Innovative, Super-Mom, Intelligent, Able


Im pretty sure today was a day I crushed all those empowering words, starting when I (officially) woke up at 12:45. PM. This afternoon. Yes my friends, THATS how you get off to a good start. Let me explain.


I just dont sleep well alone. Or with a bad cough even though I have a bag of cough drops on the pillow next to me. To make matters worse Aeva likes to sneak into my bed multiple times a night. Carrying her back to her bed in the dark so she doesn't wake up involves holding back any vulgar yelps when you step on Cinderella's goddamn crown in the hallway. By the time I have backed out of her room and not only managed to slam into the closet's accordion door and my bed post because im fucking blind without glasses...Im wide awake.


All in vain. Iris and our bark-happy dog Cerb stampeded to the living room for crack-of-dawn cartoons, effectively earning me a sleepy Aeva in my bed. Sleepy toddlers like to bruise any and all tender internal organs not protected by ribs, and boobs. Toddlers love to maim boobs so that they may never be the beautiful assets they once were.


Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore I heard the front door open and Iris's happy yell for her daddy. I made a lame attempt to catch a toddler limb as Aeva slid off the bed (in case she was falling) and fell directly into deep sleep in an awkward sideways but blissfully undisturbed position. The Ex and I have made an agreement to share sleep-ins on the weekends. Saturday is MINE.


I just didn't expect to miss the entire morning. Kudos to the Ex but I woke up just in time to encounter Iris teary eyed and pouting on the couch and Aeva yelling that she didn't want to nap. This is where I ignore everything and make myself a cup of coffee.


THEN sent both kids to nap. How many words have I disgraced now? 2? 3? Lets add to that list.


I love to cook. But lately I have been cooking mostly healthy stuff (read: cardboard) so I am making an effort this week to cook things my kids ask for. Today they were getting Lasagna. Iris LOVES pasta and was hovering over me the entire time I was cooking, complimenting me and smacking her lips and over all making me feel like Momma of the YEAR.


I got too cocky. Never. Ever. Trust your kitchen 'skillz' to anything that is labeled 'no'- anything. No-boil lasagna noodles are the effin devil. I spent an HOUR assembling the most scrumptious white lasagna. It took yet another hour to bake.


Audible crunches are not acceptable when you cut into your lasagna.


Lets just say dinner was a fail. Iris, ever the sport chewed through her dinner with only minimal grimaces. She's my problem smoother. The doll even complimented me.


Aeva on the other hand laughed, climbed out of her high chair and walked back from the kitchen with a cupcake. I felt so badly about dinner that I almost let her eat it. ALMOST. Instead I did the good parent thing and took it away, telling her she could have it after she ate her lasagna filling (im not willing to risk teeth on the pasta). Thats when the wailing started.


Remember when I mentioned Aeva having an impressive volume? We had to use hand signals to instruct her to go to her room for time out till she was done. She hardly made it to the door when I hear her yell:


"I done CRYIINNNGGG!!"... amidst huge sobs.


I traded my coffee for a rum and coke.


Tonight I sat in the hallway singing Israel Kamakawiwo'ole's version of Somewhere over the rainbow/What a wonderful world in my cracked raspy voice, threatning any traspassing child with a 'pa-pao' (spanish for spanking). I cant tell you how many times I hummed through words and incorporated 'get back into bed!' into the song. 


I had help today. I cannot imagine what its going to be like doing it all thru on my own. Im not feeling very able, responsible, independent, intelligent or super. Only thing strong was my rum and coke.