Project Mean Girl … again

I. Am. A. Mean. Girl. I have absolutely no patience with myself and my limitations. I expect the world (of myself) and find myself lacking …often. Talk about the perfect recipe for a personal crisis.

I have a newborn baby. I am not 20 anymore… in fact I am closer to 50. Whaaaat???! I was tired with my newborns in my 20s. Why should I expect any different of myself now? I also have a 1 year old whose primary objective is to destroy the house on the daily. And a 4 year old whose very essence reeks of independence and sass. I have good reason to feel a bit tired.

Add to these variables that we are reeling from the recent knowledge that the baby girl we raised from 3 days old to 14 mos old passed away under tragic circumstances while no longer in our care. And we are in a daily fight to try and bring her brother back home to us. This is all exhausting. This mama is weary. This is a time for Grace if ever there was one.

So what does self care look like right now? My self care allows for tears. It allows for more Starbucks iced coffees than it should. It allows for gentle movement. It allows for showing up just as I am and having that be good enough.

My self care also says ‘yes.’ It says ‘yes’ to meals being provided and ‘yes’ to gifts of cards and flowers and meal delivery services. It says ‘yes’ to people who offer support through prayer or other intangibles.

My top 5 K.I.S.S. Plan (keep it simple sweetie/stupid) for now is:

Be kind! Move my body when I can however I can.

Be kind! Sleep or snooze or at least rest whenever I can.

Be kind! Be present in the moment because these sweet ones grow all too quickly.

Be joyful. Whatever that looks like… it could be dancing or singing along to a favourite song or being silly with the kids.

Just be. Whatever I feel… (and those feelings are coming fast and furious )… just allow them. Tears are healing balm to my broken heart. Accept that some days are easier and some days are harder. Just be. And breathe.

Project Flamenco

I have discovered a magic pill… flamenco dancing. Well, the Zumba version because I am pretty sure I am not coordinated enough for the real deal.

Lots has been happening in our foster home over the past couple of weeks. There has been devastating grief as the very real possibility of our two littlest babies reuniting with their mama has become apparent. As much as that is the goal of fostering, we love each child in our home as if they are ours so of course it hurts… a lot.

And so, what is a girl to do? I dance. I hold those babies tight and shake what my mama gave me.

I am no scientist but chemically speaking, dopamine is released during exercise. My mental acuity improves as my brain signals my body to move at a certain pace with specific moves. As I learn to move, I am also learning to instruct which means that my brain and body are working even harder still. All of which distracts me from a broken heart.

I need all the help I can get otherwise I am very sad. The last thing a girl with depression needs is something to push her equilibrium over in the wrong direction. I guess you could call this self medicating?

So, flamenco I shall.

Project American Express

I feel like I have been running up a huge credit card bill.

I am in debt because of all of the night’s sleep I have had to lay on the altar. I am in debt because I don’t get to go to the bathroom alone. I am in debt because I have to leave the dishes, the laundry, the floors undone for the sake of relationship.

To cook with a baby on one hip, and the other one pilfering the contents of my cupboards is a privilege. And, it is fun!

But, I think I have to put myself on a budget. At some point, something in my psyche (or the crazy haired/eye bagged lady staring back in the mirror at me) is going to have to say.. “JAIL BREAK!” We all need a moment. We need a moment to recharge. We need a moment to fill up. We need a moment to just be us. We need that moment to just be us so that we can run up the tab again and still find it fun.

Project all about that bass

Surprisingly, I haven’t put my underwear on backwards or inside out… lately. I also seem to mostly match and rarely go out with puke in my pocket. (Did you even know it is possible to get puke in your pocket? Trust me. It is not only possible… it is probable if your most common attire is overalls which are known for an abundance of pockets)

Wow. That digressed quickly. I just wanted to pop on here and put out a little blurb re reasonable expectations.

I have had to adjust my expectations of myself so that I don’t fester in an over abundance of mom guilt.

My expectation now is that all humans and animals who reside in this domicile will be kept alive through being fed and cared for in the best way I can in this moment in time. (Question- does McDonald’s offer a rewards program for frequent visits? Asking for a friend…)

My expectation of my appearance is that I will neither wow nor leave people wondering. (Read- I wear clothes that are functional and not covered in puke but covered in cookies is still sometimes acceptable.)

My expectation is no longer that I will get a full night’s sleep but rather that I will sleep when I have opportunity to do so. (Read -naps=life)

So how does depression figure in all this? My baseline of self care has adjusted a lot. And self care is a big part of managing depression.

First off… MEDICATION! Yup. Still doing that. Still helps.

Secondly, Movement. Yup. I vacuum. I walk. I dance. I do extra trips up and down the stairs. Occasionally I mall walk. Sometimes I do actual cardio or strength training. But right now, in a period of adjustment I am just doing life. This season is all too short and much too sweet to do anything more. Babies are not babies forever.

Other ingredients in my recipe for this life with babies:

Showering. Eating as well as I can. Multivitamin. Lots of water. So much coffee!!! And the piece de resistance — a sense of humour, delight in each moment (even when I dip my hands in poo… again), being present with these precious baby boys and loving on them as they grow in wisdom and stature (Read- one is a climber and daily outsmarting me as he gets more proficient in said climbing.)

Project gifted

This baby is incredibly blessed to somehow magically pee out of his diaper with such force that not only did it splat on the floor but soaked my shirt and somehow not his own!! He has also managed to upchuck inside my shirt so I think that is just the gift that keeps on giving.

I am pretty proud of my own personal talent… I can wiggle my ears… so there is that at least.

I love how we are all continually learning and growing but how we also have things about us that just are. One thing that ‘ just is ‘ about me is my love for young humans. Although I am tired, I am daily exerting my energies within my giftedness and passion and so I am at peace and filled with joy.

To go to bed at the end of the day exhausted from doing good and working wholeheartedly within my ‘just is’ is totally worth it. Now if I could just figure out how to take care of myself a little better within that I would be golden. (Says the woman with a week’s worth of dry shampoo in her hair)

Project Snap out of it!

What evil mastermind thought parents should have to deal with snaps on sleepers with little, wiggly humans in the middle of the night?

I personally think it may have been the same person who invented pantyhose and spanx.

Also, are teeth really that useful other than for keeping our faces from caving in and for chewing steak and stuff? The littlest one has popped out 3 in 5 days and this mamma is tiiiiiiired!!!!

Some things in life are necessary and we just have to power through the pain and discomfort. Other things, not so much.

It is our responsibility to figure out what’s what and try not to bulldozer our way through life. I think our sense of self, our families and others placed in our lives depends on it.

Project The Who

Did someone get excited for a second thinking I was going to talk about legendary band The Who’?

I thought it would be more fun to tell you that the toddler in our home has been super into eating and drinking like a dog. I guess that is because the ‘siblings’ he is around the most are the furry ones.

In the past couple of days he has added to his repertoire of fun tricks and now says “wash, wash, wash the face” as he licks his hands and rubs his face. Pretty sure this mannerism came from our cat. Did I mention we have a cat too?

If you are counting that means: 2 adult children (18&20), 2 baby boys (23 1/2 mos and 6 mos), 2 Saint Bernards and a cat.

So, acting like a dog or cat adds up.

If you do your own math, and evaluate your top peeps (or animals I guess..) would you be pleased to discover that your mannerisms and actions have taken on their actions and mannerisms?

I hope to err on the side of spending time with quality people who rub off in me in a good way. I would hate to discover that somehow I have unintentionally become someone less than who I am supposed to be.

P.s. I love Jesus & endeavour ultimately to be more like Him.

Project Out the window & up the nose

The English language… or any language for that matter has escaped me. I am in a sleep shortage. We have a 6 mo old visitor who had yet to sleep through the night. I no longer communicate with actual words but have reverted to gesticulations, head nods and sound effects. If you think you hear a parrot squawk… chances are it’s me…

Little mister is fast approaching 2 years old and his extensive vocabulary is astonishing. That said, he randomly strings together words in a sentence and looks intensely into your eyes willing you to understand. “Up the nose”, “out the window”, and “I make a poopy” are current favs.

I love his fervour and passion as he endeavours to use language to make his needs known.

We could all learn a thing or two from him about the importance of what we say and how we say it:

A) choose your words carefully

B) make eye contact

C) make sure you are understood. If not, repeat a&b

Project John Stamos

In Uncle Jesse’s words… “have mercy!” (Full House fans — you’re welcome.)

There comes a time when we have to wave the white flag and surrender. We have to surrender to the fact that we just can’t do it all.

We are currently dabbling at having some hired help for cleaning so that we can focus in on family and not get bogged down (and crabby) about other tasks that just shouldn’t matter in this season of our lives.

Case in point, I wouldn’t be able to write or shower quite frankly if not for this seeming indulgence.

As the mom of two bigs and two little littles, I know how quickly time passes and I don’t want to miss a thing.

HAVE MERCY!!

Project Earworm

Celine Dion!!!

Did I just date myself? That’s right… I said it. I am a Celine Dion fan, so there.

Approximately a year and a half ago I had the thought that if nothing else… I was to love wholly and sing over the baby/& or babies brought to our home through foster care.

When words fail, sometimes the song that comes up in our mind/heart just seems to do the trick. Healing balm to a hurting soul via earworm.

Little man has something up today,… the cause has yet to be determined. Teeth are always a very real possibility. On days like this, we look one another in the eyes and just sing together. It is so very precious. So very healing. So very pure. It is also the perfect picture of what I believe to be true of my Heavenly Father who rejoices over me with singing… & He quiets me with His love. (Zephaniah 3:16-17)