Mess

Too bad June is definitely no longer potty trained, Evan is back to his belligerent attitude with the added bonus of violence (tonight he gave June a nosebleed by swinging a book at her face), and we have too much stuff, making our house a mess in every sense. I’m a mess, too. It’s extra hard to deal with little kids when I just want to continue a cycle of cry-sleep-cry. Send help before we finish our descent into total chaos!


Unhelpful

I know you mean well. And I don’t want to demean your intentions or offend you – but, at the same time, I don’t want to spend effort making sure you don’t feel bad. So please politely note these things that aren’t helpful for me to hear.

At least you have two healthy kids. It’s precisely because I already have two kids I adore that I wanted to have another one. I know what I’m missing out on by not getting to see Christian grow up. Plus, although Evan understands that I’m sad, it doesn’t stop him (or June) from needing me to be involved in everyday life. Most days I feel like shouting, “If you ask me to get out of bed to make you ANOTHER peanut butter sandwich I am going to SCREAM!” (And peanut butter sandwiches are pretty easy, guys.) Having two kids means I have to put my grief on hold a lot of the time.

Isn’t it a miracle that any babies are born healthy? Imagine that someone lost their husband in a car accident. Would you tell them, “When you think about how dangerous cars are, it’s amazing that most people aren’t killed in car accidents!” Of course not, because hopefully you’d recognize how NOT COMFORTING that statement is. It feels like rubbing it in my face to tell me I should just be grateful for the miracle of life. It didn’t work out this time – and that sucks.

Do you think you’ll have another? When? Again with the husband-died-in-a-car-accident comparison – can you imagine asking that person if they’d considered getting remarried? And how soon? I think the mentality is that one baby could replace another. Not even a little bit.

He was just too perfect to stay here. I don’t care. I want him back.

God must have needed him more. I don’t care. I want him back.

Now you have an angel watching over you. I don’t care. I want him back.

You’ll get over it eventually. Not a chance. I doubt I’ll always experience the loss the same way, but it will always be a part of my life.

I suppose now I should tell you some helpful things to say . . . how about:

I’m so sorry. Me too.

I wish I could make it better. Me too.

I’m so glad you got to hold him. Me too.

I’m trying to get used to the emotional ups and downs. Tuesday was horrible and I cried almost all day; Wednesday was great; today has been both good and bad. I’m tired and grouchy and lonely and so sad. I don’t want to deal with Evan and June – which makes me feel guilty for being a bad mom, which makes me (irrationally) think maybe that’s why I lost my baby. Then I’m so drained that I can’t deal with Evan and June, leading to more guilt and sadness until I shut down.

This is exhausting. And so much harder than I could have ever prepared for.

P.S. I should point out, before you go overboard and start buying anything you find with a dragonfly on it, that I started yesterday’s post by saying I’m picky.


Grouchy

After a full week of allergies and/or a nasty cold, I’m tired, sick of being sick, and super grouchy. I probably just need more sleep…but I’m going to be bad and indulge in my grouchiness before I go to bed tonight.

By the way, we had another appointment to check the baby’s heartbeat this afternoon. Tiny Baby was very wiggly all day, but the OB was still nice enough to let us do a quick ultrasound to see that beautifully beating heart and hear the whoosh-whoosh baby heartbeat. It’s sad to think we only have two more appointments like this.


Violent

June has entered an unpleasant phase – she hits and punches Evan whenever she gets upset. It’s obvious that she does it to hurt him. Of course she goes straight into time out for hitting, punching, kicking, slapping, and so on, and we always have a talk afterwards about why those things are bad – and she can demonstrate what “soft” or “nice” behavior would be. But she’s so impulsive that it seems she can’t resist responding with violence when she thinks Evan has wronged her.

I know she’ll eventually get the message that what she’s doing isn’t ok, so for now I plan to stick with the time outs and discussion – June is smart enough that she understands the concept, it’s just hard to apply. Because she’s 2.

Evan went through a similar phase at a similar age, and he grew out of it. But it started when Jarom was in Korea for an internship while I was pregnant with June, so I had a hard time dealing with it. Fortunately it seems that a lot of things are easier the second time around, and I’m not as worried about June turning into a violent criminal. (At all, really. Can you imagine?) I don’t mean that I let her bad behavior slide or that I act unconcerned – I just don’t spend extra time fretting that I’m not doing a good job of parenting. For that reason, at least.

If your kids skipped this phase, please don’t tell me. I’d like to assume it’s standard.

Hard to believe this ball of cuteness could ever be mean-spirited.

Hard to believe this ball of cuteness could ever be mean-spirited.


Cold

Recently Jarom asked me if I’d rather have the flu for 2 days or a cold that lingers for 2 weeks. I quickly picked the cold, which surprised him. I explained that since I’m the childcare provider in our house, I’d have to make other arrangements for the kids if I had the flu. But if I had a cold, I could muddle through things.

The question was apparently some sort of cosmic test, as now I have a cold. June has something too – something that makes her wake up 6+ times every night. No me gusta. Jarom let me sleep until the last possible minute this morning, and after he left I stumbled out of bed, groggy, congested, exhausted, ready to give in. So far the kids are being nice – Jarom must have explained that I’m feeling sick – but we’ll see what horrors the day brings. This isn’t exactly the kind of cold I imagined; I was hoping for some sniffles and a sore throat. Not “I want to down an entire bottle of NyQuil and disappear for a week.”

Since that isn’t an option, I’m open to suggestions. How do you cope when you’re not feeling well, but you still have responsibilities like feeding your kids? I think almost everything else in my life can handle a few more days of neglect (the house is not doing well, but it will have to wait), but the kids still need to eat, have diaper changes/be reminded to use the bathroom, take naps; the dog needs to go outside once in a while. Should I just plan on a lot of stumbling around?

EDIT: Wow, just kidding, the kids were not being nice. We’ve had endless talks recently about not taking things that aren’t yours without asking first . . . but the kids thought it didn’t apply to food. They’d finished eating some biscotti (which I gave them) and then took two boxes of macaroni and cheese, dumped the noodles all over Evan’s floor, and dumped the nasty orange powder all over Evan’s bed. Thanks, kids.


Trouble

I got up early this morning – actually, let’s just leave it at “I got up this morning,” which should indicate that it was earlier than I’d like. If I had my way, I’d sleep until 11 every day. I’d made an appointment for the dog to get a haircut, since he’s gotten pretty shaggy again, so I needed to drive Jarom to work.

The kids and I spent a while browsing the pet store, admiring the chinchillas (which Evan hilariously – but unintentionally – called gorillas) and turtles. Then we had a brief interlude at my friend Kimberlee’s house, where Evan demonstrated why a full night’s sleep is important. We left soon thereafter. I called Jarom to ask if I could drop Evan off at the office to spend a few hours locked in the filing cabinet (which I said in jest; don’t report me). Jarom actually said we could come by and he’d take an early lunch.

By the time we were done, the dog was ready to be picked up, so the kids and I got our freshly-groomed dog and headed home. June went down for a nap without a fuss . . . Evan requested a dragon movie . . . and I sat down to see what the internet had been up to in my absence.

I had 5 emails.

Whenever I get an email or a Facebook message, I panic – because I assume it’s someone writing to tell me that I messed up at life (something vague or specific, it would depend on the person) and that I’m a terrible person. So seeing that I had 5 emails really freaked me out.

I can only hope this is NOT a normal response. And I seldom get emails that have any sort of reprimand or even a hint of disappointment. But I still worry.

Actually, all 5 emails I got while I was gone were junk. Turns out I’m not in trouble.

Yet.


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