Buried by the Month of February

I haven't been able to post anything recently because this month has basically sucked. Major. Suckage. This. Month.

1. Snow Suckage.

We were hammered with several snowstorms in a row...our city had more snow on the ground than it has in the history of recorded time. Really. Ankorage, Alaska had 13 inches and we had 73...WTF is up with that?

So, we were stuck at home, stressed about digging ourselves out, watching the city's plows do a massively insufficient job, barely tolerating the power-outages (can you say "mommy panic attack" anyone?), waiting for the snow to stop while the thug we hired to plow our driveway ran over our bushes and broke branches off the evergreens...yeah, that was fun. (not.)

But, I did get a few good photos:






2. Phone Suckage.

Last month, my Palm smartphone died. The phone feature quit working, it was out of warranty, and it was time for my so-called "free upgrade" anyhow. There were no Palms to choose from at the Verizon store, so I got a Blackberry.

And OMG this device is making me crazy. I hate it. I love it. I want to throw it out. I never want to part with it. I want it in my room at night. I can't sleep with it in my room at night. If you have a blackberry, then you MUST know what I mean. Whenever I get an e-mail or a text, this little red light flashes at me. And I never know when the light will be flashing, so I frequently look at the phone. This is what we in Psychology call a variable ratio reinforcement schedule...the light blinks at unpredictable intervals (it may be blinking every time you look at it, or every-other-time--there's no way to know!)...so you look at it OFTEN. It is the strongest behavioral reinforcer there is...it keeps you coming back for more...you can't help it...effin' crackberry! (but if you try to take it from me--trust me--I will KILL you!)

And the blackberry has made my parenting go to shit. Texting. Say no more. One day, I will probably be arrested for blackberry-induced child neglect.

3. Friend Suckage.

What is it about finding friends as adults? It seems like it should be simple, but it is just, like, the most effin' complicated thing in the WORLD. In other phases of life, you're stuck in a building with the same people, so inevitably you get to know some of them, and you make friends. I moved a lot as a child, and got really good at making friends. But now, as a grown woman, this endeavor seems impossible. I mean, sure, I have lots and lots of chit-chat at the gym friends, and hello-goodbye at school pick-up friends...but where are my get-down-and-dirty-with-a-bottle-of-wine friends? We've lived in this neighborhood for six years, and still the friend piece is missing. I guess this is just meant to be a lonely phase of life? (Really? Are you effin' kidding me? Come on, Mother Nature, cut us a freakin' BREAK! Moms need friends more than anyone!) If you read CBHM's blog, you'll see that I'm not alone...(and thank god for her blog!)

4. Work Suckage.

I totally over-committed myself...and then spent the month digging my house and cars out of the snow...and texting on the crackberry...and now I have to dig out the piles that are burying my desk. This isn't fair.

5. Sick Kids Suckage.

Kid one: snotty and whiny. Kid one gets better... Kid two: snotty, whiny, and clingy...Kid two gets better. Repeat x4 and you have the rest of my month.

In conclusion, I'd just like to say: SUCK IT, FEBRUARY! I DON'T WANT YOU ANY MORE! Bring it on, March, bring it on!

Deconstructing Mary's Lamb

Tonight, as I sang Tot-Tot (age not-quite-3) his special-request song, "Mary Had A Little Lamb"...the following conversation occurred:

Me: (singing) "...he followed her to school one day, which was against the rule..."
TT: (interrupting) Why was it against the rule?
Me: Tot-Tot, I am singing.
TT: But why? Why was it against the rule?
Me: Because you can't bring an animal to school.
TT: But I bring my animals to school.
Me: Yours are stuffed. You can't bring a real animal to school. Like our cat, you can't bring her to school.
TT: Why can't I bring our cat to school?
Me: Because she is alive.
TT: Why is she alive?
Me: Because she breathes and eats and makes a pee-pee.
TT: (like this is news to him) How does she make a pee-pee?!?!
Me: (avoiding the actual question) She goes in the litter box.
TT: And sometimes she vomits. And that is NAUGHTY.
Me: Yes, sometimes she vomits and I don't like that.
TT: But why did Mary bring a lamb to school?
Me: Well, actually, the lamb followed her, so she didn't really bring it.
TT: So, the lamb was naughty?
Me: It's time for night-night.

Motherhood in Six Stanzas

While preparing for a case conference today, I dug through a big stash of articles from graduate school...and I was surprised to find this poem at the beginning of one of them. I thought I'd share it with you.

The Impostor

I am a mother
although I have
this nightmare
that one of these days
someone will ask
to see my credentials.

I am a mother of two
although sometimes
they look at me
accusingly
because there are not enough hours
in my day.

I am a mother
although for the life of me
I don't know how to handle
their fits
much less mine.

I am a mother
who still needs mothering
and sometimes resents her mother
because she has to mother my father.

I am a fatherless mother
who has to wear two hats
but never quite knows when
to wear which one.

I am a mother
who doesn't know how she got here
and sometimes
thank god it's only sometimes
wishes she could resign.

-Suzana Cabanas

Birth of a Mother

I have been reading a book by Daniel Stern called "The Birth of a Mother." Daniel Stern is a psychiatrist who works with parents and infants, who writes extensively about this work, and who is a major professional inspiration to me.

In "The Birth of a Mother", Dr. Stern writes about the phases women go through as they enter into motherhood. During pregnancy, he writes, women spend a great deal of time fantasizing about their baby--the kind of child it will be, the role it will play, and the relationship it will have to her. (Of course, this is all fantasy, and eventually the real baby will replace the fantasy baby in the mother's mind, if all goes well.)

According to Dr. Stern, these are some common baby roles/identities expectant moms imagine:

-The baby will be a giver of unconditional love
-The baby could be a replacement for a deceased love one
-The baby might be expected to be an antidepressant
-The mother may wish to fulfill her own dreams vicariously through the baby
-The baby could be expected to be the glue that holds the parents' marriage together
-The mother may worry that the father will experience the baby as his competitor for his wife's attention/affection
-The baby will enable the parents to become the perfect family
-The mother may worry that her baby will perpetuate particular flaws that run in the family
-The baby can be seen as a gift from the husband, from medical science, or from God
-The baby may be expected to contribute to the upward social mobility of the family, especially when the parents are emigrants
-Mothers may also imagine that their baby will be the family conciliator who will bridge interpersonal divides and repair damaged relationships among family members
-Babies are also sometimes expected to carry on the family traditions in terms of work, education, status, etc

Reading Dr. Stern's categories made me aware that in my first pregnancy, I had hoped my baby would be a "dream fulfiller" as well as the "family conciliator." First, I had wanted him to be a girl, since girls are scarce in my husband's family--so I thought having a daughter would endear me to my in-laws. I also wanted a daughter so that I could experience the loving mother-daughter relationship I never had with my own mother but had yearned for. Learning that I was having a son simultaneously shattered both of those fantasies (and even more so when I found out my second baby was another son, since we were stopping at two).

After I had embraced the gender of my baby, though, I began to imagine that he would be the magnet that would finally draw my family together. And, more than that, he would help me to build closer relationships with my husband's family. But--once he was born--it was clear that no baby could work these kind of interpersonal miracles. And it was too much to ask of him. Over time, I had to let go of my wishes and accept the reality my baby and of motherhood, with all of its beauty, wonder, pain, and fatigue.

And now, as I reflect on this, I am completely amazed by the mental work that women do as they become mothers. Really--becoming a mother is the most maturing experience a woman can have.

I wonder--do any of these fantasy-baby categories sound familiar to you? Do you remember how you reconciled your fantasy baby with your real-life baby? If so, did it require a lot of mental effort, or was it instantaneous and natural?

My Top 10 Antidepressants

10. The Web (facebook, blogs, etc)
9. Getting laundry done
8. Sex (didn't this used to be #1??)
7. Having a predictable routine
6. Work (see #7)
5. A good cry in therapy!
4. Any live connection to friends
3. Good-night snuggles with my boys
2. Gym Time
1. Sleep

Fly Away Home

Last night, I was at a local bookstore browsing in the children's section for a book for my 5-year-old, when I came across a book called "Fly Away Home." The cover showed a boy and his dad at an airport.

I thought the book would be about a boy taking a plane trip with his dad.

It's not.

It's about a homeless boy and his dad who live at the airport.

The story is written from the young boy's perspective. In the book, the boy describes his life with his father--trying to exist in a city airport, unnoticed. He tells us about their daily routine of careful maneuvering around the airport, using the bathrooms to get clean, eating at the various food stands, sleeping sitting up in chairs, and generally trying to blend in with the crowds so as not to get kicked out. He also mentions times when his dad seems upset and exasperated while trying to find a job and a stable home for himself and his child.

There are many amazing things about this sad tale, but I was mostly struck by the happy tone of the homeless boy. Clearly he wants a home, but he also seems to feel safe with the routine he has with his dad. His father can't afford to pay rent, but has found a safe alternative and has used skillful planning to keep them from getting caught and evicted. As a result, the boy knows that he is cared for. He knows that he means something great to his struggling father. And, even though they are homeless, he thrives under his father's wing.

Of course, as a parent, I instantly connected with the father's point-of-view. I can't imagine what it would be like to be unable to provide basic necessities for my children. But, then again, this boy shows the reader that what really matters most is caring guidance and love. And in this story, the father is able to give these things...which is really an unbelievable feat for a parent under tremendous stress. (Yes, I know this is just a story...)

I might go back to get the book. I don't know if I want to read it to my 5-year-old son just yet, but I might want to re-read it myself from time-to-time, as a reminder to appreciate the great things I have in life.

Confessions from 2009--A Day Late

(Inspired by: Carolyn...Online)

Even though I hated all the grocery shopping...there is also something I liked about controlling the food that's in the house. (Same goes for cooking dinner.)

I routinely hid my favorite coffee mug from the babysitter.

I bumped into someone's car, and when they didn't notice, I didn't tell them. (I don't think I left a mark, but, still...)

I had my knives "professionally" sharpened, which ruined them. I returned them to the store where they were bought (not sharpened), complaining that they dulled too easily. I plan to use the money to buy a new set of the exact same knives, and take better care of them.

I had many hateful thoughts directed toward non-parents.

Sometimes I thought I was smarter than everyone else. Really. I thought this. Ha!

I escaped domestic chores because I had a lot of work to do. Then I got on Facebook instead of doing it.

I returned many of the toys my sons got for Christmas. I just couldn't stand the clutter and junkiness. They haven't noticed because I used the store credit to buy them new (toy) electric guitars. (Now I want to return those, too...)

I have been very greedy when it comes to sleep. I probably should have gotten up with the kids on at least SOME of those Saturday mornings...

I have felt competitive with other women in my profession. I hate that.

I frequently forgot to count my blessings. Let's hope that gets better in 2010.

Happy New Year!