Leave Me Alone
Posted by: leanp on: November 30, 2009
- In: Domestic Diva| Life| Motherhood
- 1 Comment
Yesterday I was feeling so conflicted. I was trying to be grateful for my family and thankful for all I had, but I as also annoyed with my family. I needed them to stop bothering me. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to do one more dish. I didn’t want to fix one more toy. I didn’t want to clean up one more mess. I didn’t want to prepare one more snack or meal. I didn’t want to referee one more squabble. I didn’t want to fold one more piece of laundry. I didn’t want to hear one more kid show. I didn’t want to hear one more sports game. I just wanted to take a bath and be left alone in peace in my room.
I kept wondering, though, if I was being a brat. I was feeling guilty for wanting to be left alone. After all I am lucky to have a wonderful family, a loving husband, and a beautiful warm home, right? It’s true. But, everyone needs a break. A chance to regroup and recharge. I didn’t get my break yesterday, nor today. Maybe tomorrow. My chance will come and I will try not to feel guilty about it.
I can’t be a good mom or wife, or a fun one, if I don’t get some “me” time. This statement is just as true and as important as recognizing how lucky I am.
Image courtesy of here
Finding my “Just like mom makes”
Posted by: leanp on: November 29, 2009
Have you ever noticed how moms and grandmas seem to know all the tricks in the kitchen? They can all make a fabulous pie, they know how to prep and cook just about any cut of meat, the can make non-lumpy gravy, they know how to improvise in a recipe, and they can make comfort food so perfectly that we say ”My mom makes the best…” or “My grandmother made the best…”
I want that. How do I get that? I’m pushing 30 years old and I have yet to make a good gravy. I always have my mom make it! I have a few signature dishes in my own repertoire, like Clam Linguine, Enchilada Casserole, and Spinach Manicotti. But I can’t seem to make a successful pie crust, or create a thick bechamel sauce. I’ve wanted to try marinara from scratch but panic as to what to do after tomato sauce. I want to make a classic…like homemade mac & cheese. I’ve tried that and chili too, but can’t quite get them to “moms classic” level.
So it’s no shock that I recently shied away from the suggestion of making my own homemade broth and turkey soup. My aunt and uncle were helping me clean up Thanksgiving dinner and they asked if I wanted to save the turkey carcass. “Uh. No.” They seemed surprised…”But you can make broth and then add fresh vegetables and make turkey soup.” I didn’t know how to do that…it sounded like a lot of work. I just wanted to toss that darn carcass because I had to figure out creative recipes for the rest of my leftovers. But, they assured me it was easy and described the process. I told them I would try, that it might broaden my domestic divaness…wink wink! Honestly, there was a lot of doubt in my mind that I could pull it off.
This is my homemade turkey soup with homemade dumplings! Yup. I did it. I made the broth out of turkey bones and water. The next afternoon I mixed my broth with fresh veggies, turkey, and all sorts of herbs. I even made homemade dumplings. Why dumplings? Because I was going to add noodles but wasn’t sure if I was supposed to cook the noodles first or just put them in dry and let them cook/simmer with the soup. It was stressful trying to decide. And I really really didn’t want to call my mom or my aunt. I wanted this to be my soup. So I thought, “How about dumplings? Like chicken and dumplings, but it would be turkey instead.” And that is what I did. It turned out fabulous…
As you can tell, the pickiest eaters in the house liked it! I dare say this could be my “classic!”
Just a Thought
Posted by: leanp on: November 19, 2009
When asked “What has motherhood taught you so far?” or “What have you learned since becoming a mother?” I tend to hear fellow mammas respond, “I’ve learned how to be patient.” Or I hear, “I’ve become a more patient person since becoming a mom.” In fact, I think I have even said something along these lines. But as my patience becomes tested more and more, I realize that I am a big liar. Not only have I not become more patient, but I do believe my patience tank has gotten smaller. It takes me far less time to lose it when I am being pushed my by toddler and preschooler.
No, I am not more patient and motherhood has not taught me patience. Instead, I’m learning how to manage my impatience. Really, I am not a patient person by nature. I never have been. I don’t like to wait, I don’t like having to do things over, and most times it is just easier to get things done myself my way instead of letting someone else do it. But with kids, I have to wait because it takes little ones longer to do things–they’re learning. I have to do things over because kidlets like to help and I have to let them, even if they don’t do things right–they’re learning. And I can’t just take over and do everything for my tots because then they will NEVER learn and then I’ll really be irritated!
Yes, I’ve learned to manage my impatience. When chores take too long, or I feel like I’m yelling to two little brick walls, or I’m repeating instructions/directions over and over and over and over again, I’ve learned to put myself in my kids’ little shoes and see the world from their point of view. It’s a big, fast moving world for their little legs and hands and growing brains. I’ve learned to take a step back, take a deep breath and take things one tiny step at a time. I sit back and just watch (while repeating the mantra in my head “they’re learning, they’re learning, deep breath, they’re learning”). And when I do I am rewarded with small moments of great victories from my kids. Like when my preschooler puts his dishes in the sink without being asked, or throws away his garbage in the trash rather than in the middle of the room, or when my one year old daughter leans in at a random moment to give me a kiss.
Just a thought that’s been on my mind…
Bath Night for Triceratops
Posted by: leanp on: November 15, 2009
- In: Life| Marriage| Motherhood
- 1 Comment
I peeked over the top of my book to look at my husband who was entranced by a foot ball game on tv.
“The kids seem to be having fun upstairs,” I said. “They’ve been up there a while.”
“I noticed–”
We cocked our ears towards the ceiling as we were interrupted by the sound of running water followed by resounding laughter.
“I wonder what they are doing. They are really getting along well,” I said, “I’ve heard the water come on a couple times though. I’m not sure I want to know. Do you?
My husband looked at me and replied firmly, “I really don’t want to know. I think we should let them play a little while longer.”
“Me too,” I agreed. Then I thought for a second. I flashbacked two weeks to a moment when I didn’t want to end a phone conversation with a friend. I heard the sounds of two mischievous but happily-playing-together children in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of clanking cat dishes. I ignored them. Ten minutes later when my conversation was done, I went down stairs. I was greeted by two happy kids surrounded by a half a bin of cat food all over my kitchen floor, half of which was swollen and drowned because the water dishes had been dumped and mixed in with the spilled kibble. “Okay,” I continued, looking square into Andrew’s eyes, “but we cannot be angry with them when we do go up there. Because in this moment we are choosing not to parent, due to our desire to have just a little more peace down here. It is not their fault. Whatever they are doing, we are letting them do it.”
“Agreed.”
Three minutes later:
As I slowly reached the top of the stairs I thought to myself, “I’m just going to take a quick peek, see what their up to and then maybe sneak out before they even know I’m there.”
Not even a second later I was met by my son who was soaked. I’m talking pants sticking to his legs, water down his shirt, face splattered, and hair slightly damp head-t0-toe soaked.
*Squish, squish, squish* My son walked over to me and looked up. “Uh-oh Mamma,” he said, obviously not know whether to smile or be scared.
I held back laughter as I looked at his wet hair and water-sprinkled face. “Uh-oh!” I replied calmly. I peeked around the corner at my daughter standing in the middle of the bathroom in the same water-soaked state as her brother.
I quickly yelped my husband’s name, essentially calling for back-up. I scanned the bathroom. It literally looked like someone had split open the roof over my bathroom like the Red Sea, letting in the pouring rains of the Northwest. The walls were spattered with droplets of water, the counter was flooded, and the floor mats were drenched. As I swept my daughter into my arms and tip-toed out of the bathroom (trying not to get my socks wet), I noticed my son’s Triceratops happily floating in my husband’s sink.
“What were they doing?” Andrew asked cautiously as I exited the bathroom past him.
“Oh, it looks like it was bath night for triceratops,” I answered in a casual tone.
After the kids were changed, Andrew occupied them with a game of chase-hide-and-go-seek-tag while I mopped up the bathroom. The damage was impressive. They even managed to soak the 15 rolls of toilet paper that live in the cabinet underneath the sink.
I made mention recently that my children get along the best when they are creating mischief and tonight proved that very point. My kids were not in any trouble tonight, though it does look like we’ll be setting boundaries on dinosaur baths.
“Oh well,” my husband conceded, “It could have been worse.”
“Definitely. Way worse,” I agreed with a smile and headed to the laundry room with an arm load of wet towels and floor mats.
It’s the Little Moments
Posted by: leanp on: November 14, 2009
- In: Life| Motherhood
- 1 Comment
My children are one and three years old. This combination of ages has proven to be my toughest season yet. I am teaching one to walk and the other to use the potty. I am teaching one to use a spoon and fork and the other how to use proper table manners. I am teaching one all the animals that live on the farm (and the sounds they make) and teaching the other where he lives and the actual names of his family members (in case he ever gets lost). I am teaching one how to stack blocks and the other how to share blocks. The list goes on and on. And with two kidlets messes are twice as big, the whining is twice as much, the constant hunger is twice as often, and the noise level in the house is twice as loud. But in all this swirling activity, frustration, and general hulaballoo I am able able to pick out the moments that peek through and remind me of the best parts of motherhood. Some of my favorite mom moments:
1) Rocking my little one in the quiet dark of the late night or wee hours of the morning when they are scared or sick.
2) Witnessing a big brother share a toy or snack with his little sister–unprompted–with a tender, “Here you go.”
3) Listening to the laughter and tiny giggles of little ones who are absorbed in their own made-up games.
4) Watching kidlet faces light up when daddy walks in the door from work.
5) Hearing a big brother ask his baby sister, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” when she is crying, follwed by “It’s okay Haleybug.”
6) Feeling little arms cling around my neck in shyness or fear.
7) Hearing the words “Thanks Mamma.” and “Day ku.”
Conversing with a three-year old and hearing his funny and sometimes surprisingly logical perspective about the world around him. Example: *Noticing someone struggling to start her car in the store parking lot* He says in a serious tone, “That car’s not working.” I reply, “It’s not working? I wonder why?” He responds with his eyes fixed upon the troubled situation, “It needs batteries.”
It’s these moments that I notice and file in my mental mommy roledex. I always add to them and I bring them out on my most challenging days. And though these are tiny snapshots that last seconds, they make a lasting impression on my spirit. They make me happy to be a mom.
Did I Just Say That Part 2
Posted by: leanp on: November 12, 2009
Here are more comments I have heard myself make to my children. What is funny about these is the fact I always knew I would probably say them when I became a mom, but I found myself surprised when I heard them actually come out of my mouth. Even more interesting is that my kids are only one and three years old! I still have a lifetime of motherhood to go 
1) “Hands to yourself please.”
2)”Because I said so.”
3) “I’m your mother. I just know.”
4) “We don’t dump your friends out of the pool. That’s not nice.”
5) “Never pull the kitty’s tail. Would you like it if I pulled your tail?”
6) “If you don’t eat your dinner, you’ll get nothing until breakfast.”
7) “I’m sorry you’re hungry, but that’s what happens when you don’t eat your breakfast.”
“You are driving me CRAZY!”
9) “You are driving me NUTS!”
10) “Don’t sit too close to the tv, you’ll hurt your eyes.”
11) “No. No tv this morning. Too much tv is bad for your brain.”
12) “No. You may not have cookies for breakfast.”
13) “Nope. Candy is not for breakfast either.”
14) “Sorry you’re cold. That’s why I told you to put on a coat.”
15) “Do you need to go potty?”
16) “We are not leaving this house until you go potty!”
17) “Oh crap. That one was totally mommy’s fault.”
20) “Daddy’s at work! Besides, if daddy were here, he would have put you in timeout too!”
21) “Wow, it sure is late. Bedtime!!” *even though the clock only says 7pm, but I’m at my wits end*
22) “Mealtime is for eating NOT for playing.”
23) “Don’t do that. It’s rude!”
24) “Don’t say that. It’s rude!”
25) “What do you say?”
26) “You say excuse me. Not ‘that was a big one.’”
27) “You need to say you’re sorry.”
28) “NOW!”
29) “TIMEOUT!”
30) “That is not a play area.”
31) “Please stop eating the cat food.”
Major Mommy Moment
Posted by: leanp on: August 5, 2009
Today I had to seperate my son from his beloved security blanket. Oh man…the emotion, the judging backlash, the guilt, the tears were almost too much to handle. But as a mom I truly feel I had to do what had to be done. I followed my motherly instinct, and though I feel sad for my son, I feel peacful about doing what was best for him.
Why I did it: Normally I would never be so mean as to rip a special something out of a child’s arms, let alone my own child. However, his blanket had become a danger. It was a beautiful hand-knitted blanket he has had since the day he was born three years ago. But after being dragged, washed, thrown, tossed, lost, buried, dropped, spilled-on, thrown-up on, washed, slept-with, cried on, snotted on, and washed, the blanket had become shredded, pulled apart, and knotted so badly it wasn’t even recognizable as a blanket. It had also become a strangling/choking hazard. It was tripped on, tangled in, wrapped around, stuck on, slammed into, tied between, pulled through, and streched out by and in children, toys, doors, shoes etc.
But oh how this blanket was so loved by my little boy. He cuddled it, snuggled it, slept with it, held it, twirled his fingers in it, looked for it, and 
cared for it. How was I supposed to take this loved danger away from him? The advice I got came from every direction. I heard everything from “never seperate a child from his/her security” to “steal it from him while he’s sleeping.” I heard cut it into pieces, sew a small patch to a new blanket, have the blanket fairy come to take it and leave him a new one, and on and on and on. So overwhelming.
I decided, after hearing of a similar experience from a friend, to have a piece put inside a teddy bear from Build-a-Bear. That is what we did today. My son is so smart yet still so young and innocent. When we talked, he understood what we were doing perfectly well, but he could not understand why. Picking out his new stuffed animal was the first step. He cried so much and buried his head into my legs when he finally pointed to a soft fuzzy panda bear. I was surprised to find myself crying as I held my boy tight trying to comfort him. As I tearfullylooked up at the Build-a-Bear employee who was helping us I saw her eyes misting up as well. It was really a sad and major moment.
We moved on to the “stuffing station” and filled the bear up just eno
ugh to leave room for the blanket. Then it was time to put the blanket inside the bear. I will never forget the feeling of total devastation for my son who was holding his blanket for dear life. I felt conflicted as I tried to pry the blanket out of his white-knuckled fists while at the same time softly comforting him and rubbing his back. He finally loosened his grip and clung to me sobbing into my shoulder. He stayed clung to me for the rest of the process. He managed to point out an outfit and shoes for his bear through teary eyes and hard sobs. When all was said and done he wanted nothing to do with his bear. He didn’t want to hold it, touch it, or look at it.
After two hours of grieving and mourning, Sean finally started to accept his new panda. He even let panda sit next to him during lunch. Sean obviously misses his blanket and points out the fact that his blanket is “inside bear.” He went down for his nap with panda by his side under the covers. I really feel like I made a good decision for both my son and me. I think over the next few days we’ll have some hard moments of missing the blanket, but he will move on and this day will become a story that we’ll look back upon and smile fondly.
There is a Season and this isn’t it
Posted by: leanp on: August 3, 2009
- In: Domestic Diva| Life| Marriage| Motherhood| Training
- 1 Comment
Ecclesiastes 3 says, “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” I use the metaphore of seasons in my life all the time, and right now I am in a season of finding balance.
I’m always trying to find a balance between raising my one and three year old, participating in all the activities I want to do for me, and being a good and attentive wife to my husband. Lately, though, it’s been overwhelming and I’ve become frustrated in all three areas. My kids seem ultra demanding, my activities are piling up around me, and my husband is going through a major transition in his career.
Recently I made the decision to run my first half marathon, which would take place this October. But, I have decided to yield to the needs of my family and postpone my goal. When will I run my marathon? Who knows. Not until the season lends itself I suppose. I will still run on a regular basis because that’s what makes me feel good. But the time committment to training is conflicting with the time committment to everything else that is going on. I am at peace with my decision now.
When I first decided to not run the half marathon I was really devastated with it and actually flipped back and forth between doing it and not. But while tending to my kids and husband in between my own activities, such as writing, MOPS, and choir, I realized I was stressed with the pressure to train. Not to mention my husband and kids seemed discontented when I was out running for an hour or longer. No matter how many different ways I try to make it fit, training for a marathon just isn’t part of the puzzle.
As much as I harp on the importance of doing things for me and yielding to my own desires before everyone else’s, I also don’t want to be selfish. My kids and husband are going through their own seasons of change and adjustments, so it isn’t my time right now to accomplish a major life goal. I’ll still tend to my goals and desires, I’ll just pick the ones that are less demanding.
What I’m Learning
Posted by: leanp on: June 18, 2009
Anytime I embark on something new, whether it’s trying a new recipe or trying a new hobby, I always make an effort to pay attention to what I am learning about myself. Most times I am very surprised at my hidden abilities, desires, and preferences. When I started running a few years ago, I never analyzed what I learned about myself. I know I learned that I loved running, but I never explored anything beyond that.
So, when I took up running again and started training for the Lake Run a few months ago I payed more attention. What I learned from the experience is helping in my training for my first half marathon in October. My training for October’s event is starting out slow. I think it’s because I took three weeks off due to sickness and being plain ole tired. But the three week break allowed me to rest and reflect while I mentally, emotionally, and physically geared up for my half marathon training.
Here’s what I’ve learned about me:
~I can take a three week break and not lose too much ground physically. I stayed pretty fit.
~I am a solitary runner. It’s not to say I don’t love my friends who enjoy running, I just run better alone.
~I am not a good encourager. That’s probably why I do better running alone. It’s stressful for me to encourage someone near me when they run because I am afraid I am not being supportive in the right way or I am saying the wrong things.
~ I am competitive. I always thought I wasn’t, but it turns out during the Lake Run I spent 80% of my time trying to get ahead of the people in front of me!
~ I care about what others think of me and how I do. This I actually already knew, but I was surprised that I cared so much in this area of my life.
~ I am driven and passionate about running. I knew I loved it, but I really really LOVE it.
~Coldplay makes me smile (and I can work out to their music). Everyone who knows me knows that I love Coldplay, but when I hear a song of theirs come into my ears I literally smile. I actually run better too. I thought I always needed fast, up-tempo music to run, but Coldplay works too.
~ I notice smells all around me when I train. I cannot stand the smell of new barkdust and I adore the smell of Standfords restaurant. Nothing like the smell of a fresh burger on the grill and nothing worse to ruin the moment than the stench of new manure filled bark (but at least my running routes are filled with beautiful blooming flowers later on!).
~Finally and most importantly, I really struggle with good nutrition or, more accurately, with food in general. There is more to come on this in a future post. I am in the process of exploring this area because it is affecting other areas of my life besides my running.
I really challenge you to take a look about what you learn about yourself when you are going through life. I think you will find it gives just a little more meaning and intent to things you do and the things you choose to do later on.
Did I Just Say That?
Posted by: leanp on: June 17, 2009
Motherhood is a lot of work, but it is often times really amusing. Lately, what I find most entertaining are the things coming out of my mouth that I knew I would probably say as a mother but was really surprised when I actually heard myself say them. Here is just a handful of what I have found myself saying in just the last year:
“Please don’t dump dirt on your sister.”
“Inside voice please.”
“INSIDE VOICE PLEASE!”
“Don’t put your head in the toilet.”
“No no! Don’t slam *cringe* the door! *sigh*”
“No no sweetie, we don’t eat the bugs.”
“Don’t eat that! YUCKY!”
“If you are really good while we are in there, we can go to McDonald’s for lunch.”
“You need to share with your sister.”
“Do you need a time-out?”
“That’s it. TIME OUT. GO!”
“There’s no such thing as monsters Honey. And even if there were, they aren’t allowed in our house.”
“Ghosts aren’t allowed in our house either.”
“Here’s your monster squirt bottle. If you see one, squirt it and it will go away.”
“Please don’t whine.”
“Mommy doesn’t respond to whining.”
“Pleeeeease. I’m begging you. Stop whining!”
“I’m pretty sure that is NOT how we ask for things.”
“What do you say?”
“Now what do you say?”
“I’m sorry, did I hear you say please?”
“You’re fine. Go play.”
“Mommy’s in the middle of something, go watch your show.”
“Now what?”
“Why did you take your pants off? And where is your diaper.”
“Did you go poo-poo?”
“Do you need to go poo-poo?”
“Did the kids poop today?”
“We don’t color on the carpet.”
“I know it is hard to share your toys, but you have to.”
“Mommy doesn’t like to share either, but I have to.”
“Go ask daddy.”
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