The Sassy Uterus

Elusive Time Alone

I love spending time with the kids, on an individual basis especially....but ever so often you need that break.

O.K. I gotta know....is there some secret formula to getting time by yourself?  Is there some secret to solitude that I missed?  I know I jumped headfirst from being a teenager into being a mother and because of that I've missed certain things that other mothers just know.  So that brings me to now...wanting to get time alone but not necessarily wanting to leave the house to get it.  Especially now in this holiday season where there's all that celebrated hustle and bustle going on.

I'm going to assume that there is no secret to solitude other than to hide. This is the method that works best for me but usually lands me behind a locked door, usually the bathroom.  I'd prefer to relax in a place that isn't known for its hard tile and porcelain.  My bedroom's door seems to be paper thin and I can hear every little footstep,giggle and at times, blinking of an eye.  

I may have to resort to using my well-used minivan as a quiet spot.  My grandfather used to spend some time out thinking in his car.  I think he knew a lot about trying to get a thought in edgewise in a busy household.  The van isn't too bad of an idea.  I'll probably need a blanket, but it beats sitting on the toilet and using the sink countertop as a desk.  Well...anything beats that.

Franken-Blankie

I love handmade gifts.  I adore one of a kind works of art, whatever that art might be: fiber, paint, sewing, paper, etc.  So about 10 years ago (for those who know our family that is when we had only two children) when I was given a knitted blanket from a friend of the family's grandma that she made specifically for me, I was beyond thrilled.  My own special blankie!  Add to this the fact that she had never, ever had met me....made it even more special.

Soon after getting the blankie I came down with some weird illness that woke me up in the middle of the night with a spinning head and resulting vomiting.  I tried to wake Phil but when he wouldn't budge I realized I probably should let him sleep since it was a work night.  I crawled out to the couch, dragging my blankie with me and wrapped myself tight.  It was the only thing I had to hold onto and honestly, the blankie and I, we bonded.  It saw me through the pukiest night I ever did have.  I hope.

I wrote this story in the thank you note I sent our friend's grandma and it moved her to tears.  

SO...WHEN....my kids chopped holes in said blankie I hit the roof.  I've been meaning to repair it.  I wanted to make it perfect.  I wanted to learn the stitch she used.  I wanted the right yarn.  I wanted to make it seamless.  As you can guess, with these specifications nothing ever got accomplished.

Yesterday I looked at the blanket and I couldn't stand the holes anymore.  Today, I stitched them up with a different colored yarn.  It's far from perfect.  In fact, it looks like Frankenstein.  Hence the title.  It is sort of like a patchwork blanket....except with yarn.

I gained a grandmother who I never got to meet.  She now rests in Heaven.  That blanket has comforted me through bad times and kept me joyfully toasty during good times.  Somethings you just don't get rid of---they're worth fixing up in whatever crazy way we can.

Wait. What?

Our lives here in the Martin household have been turned clear upside down with the loss of Phil's job.  Navigating the resources available to a family of our size as well as applying for unemployment insurance has taken up a good portion of my energy.  The way he lost his job, which was completely off the wall, seemed so out of our hands that we have nothing to do but accept that it is meant to be and to put all available energy into moving forward.  I suppose that is the healthiest way to address situations like this anyway.  

Isaac (the toddler) likes to go up to the hamster cage, and without looking, nor caring, if the hamster is in the wheel he gives it a good spin.  And little hammy Fluffy goes 'round and 'round.  I suppose she thinks it is an act of nature, much like an earthquake or tornado.  But no, it's just our two-year-old (who does get admonished for doing this).  I kind of feel like Fluffy right now.  Disoriented from my wheel being spun a bit too fast.

Teenagers are weird

I know I just recently posted about the peculiarities of raising a toddler but this post has to do with the other terrible stage---adolescence. 

My 14-year-old can be in a rage and ready to fight his brothers and then, just mere minutes later, this same child is sitting on the couch, cuddling his dog and sharing his cheese and crackers snack with her.  The thing that strikes me about this is that he does it with out consciously being aware.  It is interesting what you can find out about your child or anyone for that matter by watching what they do on a subconscious level.  His dog, Viva, a chihuahua, just barely nudged at his hand and Skyler who was totally engrossed in the t.v. show he was watching, would break off a little piece of cheese and gently feed it to his dog.

Same kid, different moment.  He oversleeps, his room is a mess, but his hygiene is excellent.  He can live in a filthy room, but can't stand to be dirty. He wants to take on the world, but asked me to come to his freshmen orientation with him because it was all new to him and he felt, well, we'll just say he felt "unsteady" about the orientation process. 

But watching him with his dog the other day made me much more sure that in the end, everything is going to be alright.  I just have to remember that the next time he infuriates me.

Terrible Twos

I have never had a child that actually fell into the "terrible two" personality description.  Don't get me wrong, I have had "terrible threes," "terrible fives," and most recently, "terrible fourteens," but never the two-year-old stage.  Until now.

Each of these stages hold their own unique issues and frustrations.  I always thought that eventhough my child may not have had the terrible twos, he made up for it with the terrible threes or whatever.  Now I know that to be wrong.

At different ages kids are able to better communicate their needs.  At three, they are more mature so when they throw a fit you can actually talk to them.  I won't guarantee that they will listen, but they will listen for a few seconds before ignoring your assistance.  As they get older, you can reason with them better until they become teenagers.

At two they are big babies.  I'm sorry, but it is true.  Big, pissed off babies.  They don't care that they are drawing a scene (in fact, I believe, they like the big audience), or that they are expending precious energy (maybe not on their part, but on that of their parent's) over a spilled juice box.  Doesn't matter.  And by God, don't try to make them understand the error of their ways.  Do not even try or there is HELL to pay.  They look at you like, "If I felt like talking about this I'd be sitting here calmly, but instead I'm pissed purple and everyone must pay. Especially you because you tried to talk me out of this fit!"

So yeah, despite the special challenges of each age and whenever they decide to go through their perpetual ornery stage, two is the worst possible time.  It's true.

Just ask Isaac, he'll scream at you. Now pass the Xanax.

Choose me, Love me

Yes, I stole that from Meredith Gray in Gray's Anatomy....but it seems appropriate for this process of querying agents.  You can't come at them all cocky and act like your book is the freshest shit since yesterday's bestseller nor can you come drooping in with a lack of confidence.  It's a mysterious process to which there are many "how to" books for but none that actually can make it happen.

See, I don't like "how to" books that actually are describing something theoretically.  I like books that can guarantee that if I follow their instructions I will end up with the desired end product.  Nobody can do that when it comes to the publishing industry because the publishing industry is a force unto itself. 

Blogging, for better or worse, drops that wall between writing and publishing which makes for a very satisfying hobby.  But I love me some books and my name in print is going to be a reality, I just hope it isn't in the local police blotter.

Cheap Thrills (or how I get time alone)

I often browse the parenting magazines at the newstand.  If the magazine promises hints or tips on getting some alone time, I will snatch it up like a sugar-crazed kid at a candy store. 
I, like many other mothers, crave alone time like others crave a tropical vacation.  What, I dream small!  Often I am disappointed by what these articles suggest as ways to get away.  Some advise hiring a nanny or enrolling the child(ren) into a day camp.  With what extra money?  And if I could afford it for one or two kids, I certainly can't afford it for all five of them.  Uh oh, I out-produced our income.  Eh, it does happen to many. Especially in this economy.The tips are far-fetched in most magazines so I thought I'd make it real for those of us who like to (or have to) squeeze a penny 'til it screams.
The below suggestions are a culmination of many nights of combing the web looking for advice coupled with my own personal experience.


1-Naptime
Naptime is sacred time.  If you have children that are too old to nap, they aren't too old to go outside and play or sit in another room quietly.  Boundaries need to be drawn in this case where the children know that mom needs some down time and can be found in another room, hiding under a pillow, if someone is on fire or otherwise in an emergency situation, but only under those circumstances.  Naptime is not the time to catch up on chores.  Mothers who are well-rested are better able to tackle any tasks that await them.  Stressed-out mothers are more likely to strangle someone or vacuum up a Polly Pocket without batting an eyelash.  Better to be rested, than to have a clean counter but a cracking mentality.

2-Husbands/Spouses/Partners
Who says you have to take your down time while your partner works?  I mean, they helped create the kid or something like that right?  Weekends are prime time to get your spouse or partner to take over the kids for a couple hours while you go do, well, anything you want to do!  If you don't have a spouse or partner, you can always enlist the help of family or friends.  Hell, even if you do have a spouse or partner, you can still ask friends or family to chip in.  If it weren't for my childrens' grandparents I would long since been put in the nuthouse.

3-Older Children as Babysitters
While it's true that some children are too young to watch younger siblings there does come a time when they are old enough to babysit.  Legal age to babysit varies by state and it is advised that you check with your local law enforcement office to find out.  Some states won't have a law and will leave it up to the parent to decide if the babysitter is mature enough. I have low standards for maturity in this regard, but that's just me.  For instance, I feel better leaving my 11-year-old at home and in charge than my 14-year-old, but you'd have to know them to understand why.  However, it is generally recommended that no child under the age of 12 babysit unless otherwise educated, in which case a mature 11-year-old might be an appropriate option. (Like my 11-year-old)  In our family we include babysitting time as part of the older childrens' weekly chores.  They do receive monetary reimbursement as part of their allowance.

If you don't have older children, a neighborhood teenager is an option, as is posting a flyer at the local junior high or high school and conducting interviews until you find someone you are comfortable with and doesn't make you feel bad for their parents.

4-Look for Stolen Moments and Be Prepared

Stolen moments are when you realize that one kid is at a friend's house, another is happily entrenched watching a movie and you are standing there....in silence.  Listen, it's rare but it does happen. Be ready to relax.  I know, it's a bit like "hurry up and wait," but trust me, you will be rewarded if you are willing to drop the task at hand and relax when the opportunity presents itself.  The thing is, often relaxation times come when you are immersed in something else.  I get folding the laundry and the kids pass out, out of sheer boredom from watching me.   There's my chance.  But if I'm so hung up on finishing "this last load," I'm screwed because there is some weird cosmic law out there that says that you either get to finish your task completely or you get to relax and that you MUST choose.   Otherwise, right as you are finishing up a child will come home or one will wake up.  But if you stop and go with the "chill" flow of it all, it buys you some time.  Listen, I don't know why this is, it just is.

5-Hide

Stop snickering, you know you already spend extra time in the bathroom or shower just to be left the hell alone so hiding isn't that far fetched.  I'll go out to the garage (I have a very modest studio out there) and a kid will open the door, "MOOOM!  MOOOOOOOM!  She isn't in here..." and leaves.  I simply hid.  And I bought myself some time.  It's a last resort but I'm trying to keep you out of the looney bin here so we are looking at options that will either keep you sane or keep you from committing a crime.  Hiding, in this light, works.

There it is...how I stay sane.  Now I'm off to the garage, but don't tell my kids where I'm at.

The Happy Problem

I wonder what everyone's thoughts are on this.

I (and probably you too) have been recently inundated by literature and media that speaks of ways to be happy. I can't open a magazine without there being  "Seven Tips to Happiness," or "How to Permanently Raise Your Happiness Level." articles.  And I read a varied amount of magazines, newspapers, webpages and books. 

Other than experiencing it on a fairly regular basis (if properly medicated), I don't know a whole lot more about happiness.  What I do know is that we are all looking for it, trying to do things that induce it or make it more likely to crop up in our lives.  Our forefathers promised us the right to pursue happiness (unless, of course, it isn't illegal and that is controlled by other people---which, depending on the "pursuit" is either entirely unfair or completely justified.)

I have become a fan of acceptance. There's crayon on the walls? After you just washed them yesterday? Accept it, and get on to cleaning it.  No fuss, no muss.  Perhaps I have just been beaten down by endless years of spills but I try not to make a big deal out of things. Compared to 10 years ago when I would have a near mental break over the mess, this has brought me a lot of peace.

So is there a problem that needs fixing here?  Some people argue that we not only owe to ourselves but to our loved ones to become more happy. See: Happiness is a Serious Problem. Do we need more happiness?  If so, why aren't we very good at predicting what will make us happy?

The best guide I've come across so far is Gretchen Rubin's, The Happiness Project.  I have wanted this book since before I knew she was even writing one. A longtime fan of her website, I am glad to see a published source of all the findings she came upon while she took a yearlong journey towards finding what made her happy based on philosophies, research and studies.  She found what worked for her and discarded the rest.  Her flourishing website of the same name has constant tidbits on angles to try to increase your happiness.  She comes right out from the beginning and tells her readers that what works for her might not work for us (Happiness is Truth in Advertising) but she helps you find what those things are whether they be events, objects, people or life accomplishments that will bring you the most happiness.

My mom has long told me that she doesn't believe you can be happy all the time.  Content?  Yes.  But happy, no?  Happiness is fleeting, she tells me.  True, but doesn't a content life come about when you are doing things that make you happy?  Chicken or the egg debate to be sure.

I will be taking Gretchen's Happiness Project (see link on right-hand side of this page) and will be posting as something "newsworthy" occurs, some happy developments or revelations.

I am going to take our forefathers up on their promise to allow me my pursuit of happiness. What do I have to lose?

If you want Mindful first go Mindless

As previously mentioned, I like to go, go, go.  I thrive on productivity and I’m not alone.  Western society has long been a workaholic, rushed culture.  Taking this disability time has been one of the single hardest things I have ever done because, especially as a mother of five, I felt a huge weight pressing on me to keep going.  Who am I to take a break?  Busy moms don’t take breaks.  They keep going, making sure everyone’s needs are met, anticipating the next move or task.  But moms aren’t alone in this either.  All humans are essentially stuck in their heads which is why I find a bit contradictory when someone says that culture rushes through life mindlessly.  I disagree. 

It gets tricky.  On one hand you are supposed to be mindful, which is to be aware and alert.  On the other, you already feel “full in your mind.”  The thing is to stop being so hyper-alert, hyper-aware and take it down a few notches. This is where mindless pursuits such as games (online and IRL), movies, cartoons, even some forms of art come into play.  In fact, a lot of good art comes about when the mind is not engaged and the soul is free to reign.  The guilt that one may associate with slowing down and doing something mindless has to go.  I have fought long and hard with my type-A mentality to finally come to this conclusion: the brain needs a break.  No matter what your line of work is or home life environment, everybody needs a mental break (well, no, not a break as in psychosis, but you know what I mean, although psychosis could lead to the loony bin which of course, would give you time to relax).  Kids are perfect examples of how to enjoy mindless play, and ironically are often the cause of why parents need to go on a mindless break on a regular basis.

Thrill seekers know about the pleasure of mindlessness.  The bungee-jumping, sky-diving, thriller rollercoaster-riding takes you out of your head.  It also provides adrenalin which has long been the drug of choice in America.  However, I would also argue that drug users start out trying to escape their minds and the thoughts that are running laps through their brains.  We’re looking for mindless in a lot of places, mostly good places, but sometimes places with dire consequences.

Mindless fun, once completed, leads one into a state of calm awareness.  Imagine that feeling after you have finished playing a fun game or watching a good movie.  You are here.  You are mindful.  But your mind isn’t full.

Mindlessness is the restart button.  Going mindless in a positive,healthy pursuit and you not only get a break but you also come back to life refreshed and better able to undertake any tasks or responsibilities.  Which is really what we want at the end of the day right?  To really be able to both engage and enjoy life.

Luckily the cord can stretch...

Starting this coming Monday, my eldest son (14 yo) will be halfway, actually more than halfway across the country from me while he visits Washington D.C.  It is a great opportunity for him to learn about our country and government and I am glad that he is having the experience.But I would be lying if I didn't admit to feeling a bit uneasy at the thought of him being so far away.  Sure, there have been plenty of times I wished I could kick his ass into the next time zone but unfortunately he's been mostly a little doll lately and therefore I will be missing him and his sarcastic humor. 
I know that someday he is going to move out and I'm all about letting anyone who will listen in on the fact that if his ass plans on staying here past graduation, he better be in college or paying us rent.  But dollars to doughnuts I am gonna be a big 'ol sack of sad when he moves away.  Sure there'll be less sibling fighting, but the absence of that shouldn't come at the cost of having a child move out right?  Well, it shouldn't but I don't see these boys slowing down with their aggression towards each other anytime soon.  Honestly, they are best friends that go through horrible mood swings.  That is what it plays out like each day.  One minute they have each other's back and are playing or hanging out together peacefully or giggling and having a good 'ol time.  Next minute it is fight to the death because one called the other a name.  I don't get it.But I'm digressing once again.....

I'm a marshmallow and these kids know it. It's why they wait 'til Dad is out of earshot before they ask me for something.  But this marshmallowey goodness is torture to me.  I know my kids are growing up and moving on to bigger and better things.  Luckily, I think the umbilical cord can stretch.  Because I'm saving the act of cutting the cord for when they really piss me off.