Sometimes {What a difference a year makes}.

I sat down recently to go through my draft folder and maybe finish up a post or 2.  I found quite a few half-written, yet emotion-filled posts that were so enlightening to read through.  My last few years have been a whirlwind of emotion - both joyful and deeply sad.  Revisiting these emotions are so therapeutic for me, which is probably why I have always been a journal writer - drawn to spilling my emotions into written words, learning and growing the whole way.  So I thought I'd resurrect a post or 2 for a nice trip down memory lane!  Here's one from exactly one year ago - March 21, 2014...

In life and in photography!  hehehehe

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Sometimes your husband works eleventy billion hours per week and you're left doing everything yourself.

Sometimes you have 3 dogs and no fenced in backyard and you have to walk them around the yard 3 times a day while leaving your 3 kids in the house to avoid bringing them out into the freezing temps.

Sometimes your kids decide that their superheroes should go swimming in their milk-filled cereal bowls while you're out walking the dogs around the yard.

Sometimes 2 of those 3 dogs don't like to pee or poop while on a leash, so they use your brand new carpet instead.

Sometimes your car makes a really obnoxious high-pitched squealing sound, but your husband is in the middle of his eleventy billion hours at work and can't take the time to pick you up from the repair shop, so you just sit at home with a broken car.

Sometimes it takes you two hours to sit down and write an email to your grad school adviser to assure him that you will, in fact, finish your Masters courses this summer ... while you wonder how that will be humanly possible when it has taken eight times longer than it should have to simply write your email.

Sometimes you just need to take a shower, so you throw your 2 year olds in your (empty) bathtub with some bathtub crayons and you have to get out of the shower with soapy hair in order to break up a fight over who gets to use the blue crayon.

Sometimes your life feels like life will never slow down.  Like it will always be a constant circle of chaos.  Like the work will never slow down and life will be a constant stream of pseudo-single parenting.

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And that's where it ended - inevitably interrupted by the very thing that I was lamenting about at the moment.  

I have to admit, I'm glad those days are over.  Brian is in a "slower" period at work, which means that he's only at the office 50ish hours per week, and working from home another 15 or so.  Yes.  I know.  That doesn't sound slow.  But it is, and for that, I am grateful.  

The boys are a year older, and oh, what a difference a year makes!  Don't get me wrong, threenagers are total a-holes.  BUT, it's more attitude than anything.  Two-year olds are mischievous.  Three year olds can be trusted to a certain degree.  Gone are the days of superheros swimming in cereal bowls (mostly).  Now, they'll ask me if they can do it and yell at me when I say no.  But at least they won't do it.  That, my friends, I can handle.  

And the dogs?  Now we have a fence and laminate floors and little to no peeing and pooping in the house.  

Life is still chaos, but it's better.  It's the kind of chaos that I can handle. 

And maybe even thrive on.  

Ups, downs, ins, outs, & what-have-yous.

Yesterday I received a package from my dear friend and college roomie, Kristin.  Accompanying a sweet birthday card was a journal - The Happiness Project: A One-Sentence Journal for Mothers.  I have to say, it's one of the most thoughtful gifts I think I have ever received.

As a Mom, I try to grasp and savor sweet memories while trying to remember who's diaper I changed and which kid already got his milk.  And I'm often so busy recording things about the boys that I don't often have the chance to record my own thoughts and feelings.

A big part of my struggle with postpartum depression and anxiety has been a loss of sense of self.  Over the past year and a half, I feel like I've come so far in my ability to recognize the importance of taking time for myself before I get to a breaking point.

But the reality of motherhood is that sometimes there just isn't time.  Going shopping alone takes time.  Having a night out with the hubby or the girls or alone takes time.  More sleep takes time!  So we have to turn to quicker things -- things that give us small outlets until we can feasibly take that time for ourselves.

That's what I love about the concept of this journal -- it's just one sentence.  To take the time to write just one sentence about the day is totally and completely doable.  And there is something so therapeutic about reading my own journals.  So I was quite excited to embark on this journey.  One sentence a day.  No problem.

Yesterday I was feeling really good.  Actually, lately I've been feeling really good, but yesterday I actually noticed it.

I felt like I actually accomplished some things.  Not just one thing, but several.  For once I felt like I was thismuchcloser to getting caught up around the house.

The boys played together pretty well.  There was minimal chaos, they played fairly independently, and I didn't have to break up too many death matches or stop more than a few death-defying acts.

Brian worked late and I handled bath and bed and cleaning up the house solo ... and smoothly.  When he came home I was happily crafting a little wall art for the kitchen and I happily proclaimed my successes for the day.

Last night, in my journal I wrote these words -- " Today I finally felt successful - as a mother, a wife, a housekeeper, a teacher, a friend."

Today was so.incredibly.different.

The Brothers woke up early.  And angry.  I packed the diaper bag for a planned play date while we waited for Brennan to wake up.  Of course, the ever-early-riser slept late, pushing us a bit behind schedule and making an already bumpy morning even bumpier.  Every step to get them dressed and into the car was quadrupled in time and difficulty.  Everything I did was met with resistance and anger.

Thankfully, my friend Lisa and I do "kiddo swaps" in which she watches the boys for a few hours for me and the next day I watch her kiddos for her.  So I was able to enjoy some time to myself, exploring a new grocery store and regrouping for the day.

When I returned to Lisa's house, Beckett clung to me.  Kiernan tried to push Beckett off of my lap while Lisa and I ate lunch.  Loading them into the car was even more challenging than it had been on the way to Lisa's.  They whined the whole way home, clung to my legs while I tried to unpack the groceries, threw tempter tantrums at nap time, and threw their sippy cups of milk at the wall/my face.

Brennan refused a nap and resisted quiet time.  The Brothers woke after only 1.5 hours of sleep with even more anger/clinginess.  By 4:30, my house was a disaster, the Brothers were only happy if I was holding them - both of them - while standing, Brennan had cut a hole in his shirt and "accidentally" colored his hands purple with a marker, and I had nothing planned for dinner.

I called Brian and requested that he make coming home a priority.  I finally got Brennan and Kiernan to sit and watch some Team UmiZoomi, strapped Beckett on my back in the Boba, and started to put laundry away in my bedroom so that I could feel just a tiny bit productive.

When Brian came home, I left.  I thank God every day for a sympathetic husband.  He jumped in and took over, no questions asked.

I wandered around Joann Fabrics and Target and sat at Starbucks to clear my head.  I started thinking about what I would write in my journal tonight, and the first thing that came to mind was -- "Today I just couldn't please anyone, including myself."

What struck me about this was the lack of hopelessness & the lack of feeling like a failure.  When I had this kind of a day a year ago, it would've taken me days, if not weeks to rebound.  But now, I know how to cope.  I know how to ask for "me" time.  I know that tomorrow is a new day and that it could be like yesterday, or it could be like today, but chances are, it will be somewhere in between.  And I'm cool with the in between.  

I think that's what is great about this journal.  The ability to see that my emotions are constantly changing and that no matter how bad it gets, it always gets better, is nothing short of miraculously calming.  And the opportunity to take a few moments in a day to reflect on the past, learn from the present, and focus on the future -- in one sentence -- is equally as calm

Mom Mom Mom Mommy Mommy Mommy Mama Mama Mama Mum Mum Mum.

My Mom used to tell us all the time that she was going to change her name.  Not her real name, but the "Mom" title that my sisters and I apparently used too much.  I remember thinking that she was being dramatic.

But now?  I totally get it.  Sorry Mom.

Now that the Brothers' vocabularies are blossoming, I feel like Lois in that episode of Family Guy where Stewie just repeats her name a million times in a row.  You know the one.  In case you aren't the Family Guy type, allow me to enlighten you.  

Yep.  This is my life.  Times 3.

Kiernan has been the worst lately.  For whatever reason he chooses at a particular minute, he repeats my name a million times, wraps his arms around my legs and ducks his head between them so that I cannot move.  It's like some weird sports maneuver or he's trying to climb back up where he came from.  Not happenin' son.

While he sometimes makes me want to scratch out my eyeballs, I have to admit that he can be pretty entertaining.  Like the conversation we had today:

Kiernan: MOOOOMMMMYYY!
Me: Yes Kiernan? Are you all done with your melon?
Kiernan: Yes. All done. Come.
Me: Alright let me get a washcloth.
Kiernan: Mom. COOOOOOOMMMMMME.
Me: I'm right here. You don't need to yell.
Kiernan: Good boy.
Me: ::sigh::

Oh this boy.  He also tried to put me in a timeout today because I wouldn't let him have a cookie.  True story.  

A ... vlog. To prove I'm not dead. Dear Jesus, what has this world come to?

1. I'm looking reeeeeeeeeally pretty.  
2. Apparently my face was itchy.
3. My kid is super cute.  
4. All of the things I list in the reasons for being busy sound super lame.  But really, my house is trashed.  Trashed, people.  I think I'm going to document the process of cleaning it just to prove that I'm not totally exaggerating.
5. No really, my kid is supremely cute, right?

I'm still alive ... barely.

I'm just being dramatic.  

I'm fine.  

I've been working my arse off around my house trying not to let it fall down and keep it's occupants alive.  

The mister has been home for only 3 of the last 16 days.  He finally comes home tomorrow and has no more business trips planned for the near future.  That I know of anyway.  Hallelujah.

Being a single parent is hard ya'll.  And I only have to do it for a relatively short period of time and don't have to worry about that whole making money thing.  I just hand over the plastic for what we need and at some point somebody pays the bill.  

(And then that person complains about how much money we spend on food.  Dude.  We have 3 boys.  It's just going to get worse.  I'm sure I'll end up working 3 jobs someday in order to feed them.)  

Anywho, semi-singleparenthood sucks.  We get out and have friends over and keep busy and they do entertaining shit like decide that they hate clothes and love accessories and insist on wearing nothing but diapers, socks, shoes, and sunglasses.   My kids are awesome.  

These legs were made for climbing.

My boys are climbers.  

 

They are ALWAYS climbing on something.  Toys, furniture, people ... 

... the sand table, kitchen chairs ...

 

A Not-So-Normal Day in the Life.

So this morning I decided to do an Instagram "Day in the Life" series.  Except that I also discovered that we were completely out of dog food and therefore needed to make a Target run.  Usually I either plan outings the day before or we go after naptime, but I didn't feel like starving my dogs all day long, so I kicked it into high gear.

8:00am - The Brothers wake up and are ready to cause some trouble.  I get green smoothies made and pop some Eggos in the toaster for breakfast.  Talk about a mix of healthy and not-so-healthy.

The terrible, horrible, no good, completely suck-ass day.

That's the title of that kid's book, right?  Yeah, that's what I thought.

If you follow me on Instagram (@imflyingsouth), you had the pleasure of seeing this gem the other day:

Honest to God, it was one of the craziest days I've had in awhile.  The kind of day that 9 months ago, before therapy and Paxil, would have left me crying in the corner with a beer in my hand, on the phone with Brian begging him to come home.  Can we just pause for a moment and celebrate the fact that now when I have one of those days you can find me in the middle of it all, laughing (and wishing I had a beer in my hand, but I'm off the booze til after my race ... sue me, I like my beer), on the phone with Brian telling him that it's no problem that his boss wants him to stay late?  Yeah, I've come a long way.

Life with 1 year old twins and an almost-3-year-old ... otherwise known as my attempt at organized chaos and staying sane.

My dear friend Lorryn recently wrote a "Day in the Life" post about the changes to their family routine now that she has started to work full time.  Their little family is thriving after this change and it's delightful to hear the excitement in her voice when she talks about their life.

Her post got me thinking that I haven't done a "Day in the Life" post in a loooooong time.  Last November, I described the complete shit-storm (literally and figuratively) that we called our life when the twins were 9 weeks old.  And in March, I wrote another post about the semi-organized days of life when the twins were 6 months old.  I could have sworn that I wrote another post this summer, but looking back I probably decided not to because it would have looked the exact same as the March post, minus the nursing and pumping.

Now that we have survived the first year of life with multiples, life has become easier and more enjoyable.  It's still not easy, it's just a different kind of chaos.  Somewhat more manageable. So here's what life looks like in our house these days....

Flight of ideas.

I'm spinning.

Not the kind where you sweat a lot.  Well, actually, as a chub-a-lub who drinks way too much coffee, I actually sweat quite a bit during the day, so that's not entirely true.  But not the kind of spinning where you are on a bike and going nowhere and sweating your balls off.

I'm just spinning through life.  August has been the busiest not busy month ever.  I'm just in the middle of a million things and haven't made the time to sit down and write and that's making me crazy.  I have a million things that I want to get out of my brain so I'm making time for it in what may be the most random post I've ever written.  But that's just what it's like inside my head lately so maybe by getting out I'll be able to clear up the mess a bit.  Maybe?

Ass-like feelings and bat-shit-craziness.

Well, hellllloooo blogland.  Long time, no see!

I'm attempting to get back into the swing of things after returning from our almost 3 week long vacation.  Key word there is attempting.  We're all going through/have been through various stages of a weird sickness that basically just knocks you on your ass, makes you act like something crawled up your ass, and makes your throat and head feel like ass.  Basically, it involves a lot of ass.

And then there are the mental patients who call themselves my children.  You know how I said in the boys 10 month post that life was starting to get a little easier?  Ha!  Somebody please teach me to just shut the F up when I start to get optimistic.  I mean, I'm cool with thinking those thoughts, but the minute I start to voice them life spins in the opposite direction.  It's like back in the old days at work when some jackoff would say that it was "quiet" and 10 minutes later everyone within a 50 mile radius who was carrying a fetus in their body would come bursting through the doors.  Seriously.  I should know better.

Bodily functions & chaos.

Some days the chaos around this house is enough to make me want to yell "Cut!" because I'm sure I'm on a sitcom set.  Or as my nerdy engineer husband and his nerdy engineer friends say, makes me want to hit Control-Z and undo what happened last.  Yes, they're giant nerds.

Last week we awoke to find dog poop on the family room rug.  It had been storming the night before and the dogs didn't want to go outside and someone must have decided that the family room rug was a suitable place to defecate.  Brian cleaned it up and while I made the morning "snack" bottles and we fed the boys together.  Brian got ready and left for work as I emptied the dishwasher and got the boys breakfast ready.  When I walked back into the family room to get the twins, I found Beckett happily playing with a turd with smears of poop all over his face, hands, and even his feet.  I thought I was going to vomit right there on the spot. I pulled myself together, bathed Mr. Beckett, and sent an angry text to the husband about his inability to get all the turds.

Seeing spots.

I say i'm losing my mind all the time.  But it's really, honest to God true.

We went out to dinner to celebrate a friend's birthday recently and when asked how old I would be later this month I said 30. Brian looked at me like I had three heads and said, "um, you mean 29?".  Seriously, who ages themselves a year?  And a big milestone year at that?  Weird. 

Innocent enough mistake, you say?  Well just wait for this one.  I pull into a spot in the Target parking lot, turn off my car, and look down at my lap.  There are spots on my pants.  I wipe at them, and more spots appear.  I start to panic that I've really lost my mind as the spots keep coming and some slightly fade.  Then I look up and see raindrops on my windshield.  My hallucinated spots are simply shadows from the raindrops on my wind shield. 

Seriously folks.  These boys have sucked out half off my brain cells.  Brian really might have to lock me up and throw away the key someday.