Where the Wild Things Are

Liam and I have been sick this past week so we didn't do much besides recuperate. The furthest we got from the house, aside from the store, was the playground three doors down.

Liam is only happy when he is moving and there are things happening. Sometimes, very rarely, he will sit down in my lap for thirty seconds or so and just be still. He's also recently adopted the habit of cuddling with the floor. He likes to lay his head down on soft things and grin at me with his big, toofy grin.

The playground is an easy way to wear off some of his excess energy.

He is a boy, through and through.

Yesterday I decided it was safe for us to leave our quarantine and go on a play date. It's not that we even felt all that sick, but I didn't want to risk getting other kiddos sick. Nobody wants to be that mom. I figured a week was plenty of time and we are no longer contagious.

So we went to the zoo with my best Pensacola friend, Jennifer, and her 6 month old, Joanna, who just happens to be Liam's best friend.

The day started off with a less than ideal start, with Liam waking up at 6:30 am.

Don't get me wrong, I am a morning person. But for me, morning starts at 7am. Anything earlier than that is still considered night in my book. Since he woke earlier than I had anticipated we needed to adjust our plans a little and leave for the zoo at 8:30 so the kids would nap during the 45 minute drive. We met up at Jennifers and piled into her Jeep. We both expected the event to be a day trip and we packed like we were going on a road trip.

Over prepared much?

Of course my grumpy little guy started crying just a few minutes into the drive. And made Joanna cry. The last time we had them in the car together all hell broke loose so we decided to pull over and nurse them and hope that would placate Liam.

No go.

He cried while Joanna watched him, probably thinking about what a "bad" baby he is.

If it had just been me I would have let him cry, to tell you the truth. I know that stopping doesn't fix anything because he will continue to cry, and be even more angry, when we get back in the car. If I let him cry for a few minutes he would fall asleep and, while I generally don't support the CIO (cry it out) method, if I stopped the car anytime he cried, I would never get anywhere. But there's always so much pressure to comfort a crying baby (not that I don't feel the urge myself, I just know it doesn't do any good with him) when you are with company.


So we stopped again, twenty minutes out from the zoo, and went for a walk at the beach while the babies slept in their ergos.

Did you know that the beach, at 9:30 am, in March, is extremely cold? But, the waves are the best thing  you could ask for to lull a baby to sleep. So I let my feet grow numb and kept walking.

Once Liam and Joanna woke we sat in the car for a bit longer while Liam and I had a snack of some chicken breast I had marinated and cooked that morning. I have to snack throughout the day or I get HUNGRY and ANGRY and Liam, well, he just likes to eat. So chicken at 10 am it was.

Both kids were fairly quiet once we got back to driving.

The zoo was another matter. Joanna, as always, was very well behaved. I swear, that girl has the sweetest temperament. I am sure she has her bad moments as well, and I have heard of them, but I just haven't seen them. Liam on the other hand displays his true colors any time he gets a chance.

                                       He loved the donkeys, and the tigers made him laugh.

I had high hopes for the day, but it was just progressing on a downward projectory and there was nothing I could do to stop it. After just a few minutes, Liam didn't want to be in the stroller anymore, and he didn't want to be in the ergo either. So I ended up having to carry him on my shoulders, while Jennifer pushed the stroller and carried Joanna in her carrier. We scooted out of there as quickly as possible and ended up only having been in the zoo for maybe thirty minutes.

Did I mention we actually had to cross STATE LINES to get there?

It was a waste of time.

It was good to socialize but outings like these always depress me. In January I took Liam to Germany and Austria and while he did exceptionally well on our extremely long flights and layovers, he was one giant FIT the two weeks we were there. It made doing anything impossible, including sleep. During that time I regressed into my post partum depression days a bit and wondered what in the world beseeched me to have a baby so young. I should have actually been seeing the world, not squatting in my parents' living room because my baby couldn't handle life.

Please don't misunderstand me. I don't regret having Liam. I love my baby boy beyond anything else and I would give my life for him in a heart beat. When he shines, he shines brighter than anything else in the world. But he can also be a storm cloud, usually on occasions when it is very important to me that he behave well, like on our day trip to Salzburg.

And it really annoys me when people can't understand that I have a grumpy, high needs baby. I am not imagining things. Please don't play his behavior down. Don't make excuses like, "Oh, the air smelled funny, you can't expect him to have tolerated it". No. It wasn't the air. It was HIM. He's not hungry, he's not thirsty, he doesn't need his diaper changed. It's his personality. And while I am learning to not have any expectations, and my capacity for patience is growing exponentially, it's still difficult. So comfort ME, and other parents like me, who have high needs children and need help and understanding. Not excuses. because it only undermines our own feelings of helplessness, inadequacy, and even dispair.

This is Liam's general disposition. I am hoping that, as he grows and is able to communicate his needs better, he will become less fussy. For the time being, it's what the Lord has blessed me with, and I am as eternally grateful as I am frustrated.

Spread Too Thin

I have a vice. Imagine that.

My problem is that I can't let others be good at something. It makes me feel inferior. I guess you can say that really I just have an inferiority complex. This mixes with my interest in absolutely EVERYTHING and causes me to pursue every possible hobby I could. But I don't just view these things as hobbies. Oh no. I must make a career out of them, somehow, if only for five minutes.

Basically, if someone else is interested in something, I am too, and I must prove that I like it just as much as they do and that I am just as good at it. This dose of honesty makes me sound like quite a nice person, huh?

I'm really not mean about it, though. This isn't the type of thing where I bash the other person to make myself feel better about myself.

No, I just bash myself.

And it's really starting to take a tole on me. Aside from this blog, I also run a small Facebook shop. I make baby goods. I also have to have a spotless house; I must be with my baby at all times; I must be outdoors at all times but I am also a homebody; I must cook everything from scratch; etc, etc. Between this and the one million hobbies I've forced upon myself (hobbies that I actually LOVE when they aren't such a chore) life has gotten to be fairly rough. I am spread too thin, and it's really causing the quality of all my work to suffer.

I wish I could dedicate myself to only one thing, or a small handful of things, and be very good at those few things, instead of mediocre at so many thing.

What kind of an example am I setting for Liam, my son, when I act this way? I want to raise a leader, not someone who doesn't know what they want to they just want what everyone else is having. Like Maggie in Runaway Bride who doesn't even know what kind of eggs she likes.

I didn't use to be this way. When I was a teen I was a goth. Seems so long ago ans foreign to me now. I went to a small school and I wasn't the only goth, but I didn't hang out with others like me, so I suppose I was isolated, in a way. I just did what I wanted to do for my own reasons.

But I'm not like that anymore.

I thought adults were supposed to have more confidence, purpose. I thought by the time was 23 (next month!) I would have more of a self identity. Instead, I still constantly look for guidance from everyone else, like I don't know what I'm doing. I even ask non-parents for parenting advice, as if I didn't know what's best for my child!

This has got to stop. I have got to stop belittling myself, take control of my life, and only do the things that make ME happy, as opposed to those that make other people happy. I just don't know how, yet.

Am I the only one that feel this way?

An explanation

Is it cheesy to do an introductory post? Should I play the role of the elusive, mysterious vixen that draws you in by not throwing too many details at you at once, so you will be dying to know me?

Maybe.

But I really can't flatter myself that much. To be honest, I am not the type of person who would ever inspire a cult following like I've seen some other bloggers do. I'm a good writer, but my voice doesn't translate well in blogging. Or on the internet in general. But, I am not trying to impress anyone here. Just trying to chronicle my day to day life, in an honest and real way.

I see a lot of glorified living on other peoples blogs. Dinner photographed to perfection. Nurseries that look yummy enough to eat. Fashion sense I could never hope to aspire to. People having more fun than I can even  imagine. And that's ok. The internet is THE place to hide, to glorify our lives and be able to get away with it.  But I don't want to do that, because I have left one too many blogs feeling like crap about my own flawed life as a woman, wife and mother - even though I know there is no way anyone is doing it any better than I am because I am doing the best I can.

So that's what you're going to get out of me.

Some days you will see pictures of us at the beach that make it look like we had SO MUCH FUN, when in reality the fun we was having were heavily interspersed with my sons incessant nagging (he is a high needs child, so he can go from smile smile SMILE to major whining in a negative span of time. Seriously. It's that fast), too much wind, and lots of frustration and self pity. That doesn't negate the fun we had. The fun (almost) always outweighs all the bad. But as anyone with a kid knows, motherhood - or fatherhood - isn't all sunshine and rainbows. It's lots of poop, tantrums, and crying in the car.

I will try to be as honest as I can about this. If that's not the kind of blog you are looking for, that's fine and I don't blame you. But I hope you will read and follow along our daily adventures because, let me tell you, whether we spend the day in our pajamas or hike Mt. Everest, it's always an adventure :)