The drudgery of adulthood

[WARNING: CHILDREN AND PARENTHOOD DISCUSSED IN WAYS THAT MIGHT BE UPSETTING TO THOSE STILL IN THE TRENCHES.  PROCEED WITH CAUTION OR AVOID POST ALTOGETHER IF THIS IS YOU.]

As much as I love my sons and enjoy spending time with them, I have, in some ways, at some times, felt that a lot of parenthood is drudgery.  As much as I would love to simply enjoy them, there is a lot more to being a parent than just that.  There is also laundry, meal preparation, cleaning, grocery shopping, diaper changes and the like.  Not all fun.

Because I am away from my sons for many of their waking hours during the weekdays, many days I feel that I am getting less of the enjoyment part of parenthood and more of the unenjoyable parts.  (Let's not even talk about toddler discipline/behavior.  Let's leave that topic for another day.)

I had a small "aha moment" on Saturday as I was washing dishes.  Pre-children, I rarely did housework.  Yep, I've now admitted it publicly. . . for many years, I did the bare minimum of housework on a daily basis to keep my home livable.  I ate out a lot, so I didn't have to wash dishes every day; I probably ran the dishwasher two or three times a week before my sons were born vs. daily now.  

I didn't make my bed unless I'd just put on fresh sheets.  I didn't straighten up every day.  (Much to MM's chagrin once we were married.)  I usually let things slide until the weekend, when things would finally deteriorate to a point where it would bug me and I would then have a block of time available and pick up.

Ditto for the bigger cleaning jobs, like the floors, the bathrooms, the kitchen, dusting, etc.  I did my best to keep things from getting very dirty during the week and would then tackle them on the weekends.  (And maybe not even every weekend, if I'm being really truthful here.)

Now that I have small children living in my home, I not only have a higher standard for cleanliness in my home, I also have two more people to clean up after besides myself.  (Thank the Lord my husband is a neatnik who cleans up after himself).  Two much messier people, I might add.  Two people who think nothing of throwing food and drink on the floor, smashing crackers into the couch, dumping out all their (carefully organized) toy bins, emptying their toy box or taking every single book off their shelves.  Two people who actually think it's FUN to make a mess, I believe, at least based on their behavior.

So I am doing a lot more housework nowadays than I ever did pre-children.  Even though I have a helpful husband, a four-day-a-week nanny with her own neatness streak and a cleaning lady who comes in once a month.  

I also do a lot more grocery shopping and meal planning than ever before because pre-children I ate out a lot or ate frozen entrees (unless I was on a weight loss kick, but those only happened sporadically).  My children can't eat Lean Cuisines or food from the McDonald's or Taco Bell drive-thrus (well, technically I suppose they *could*, but I'm quite a bit more careful about what I feed them than I am about what I feed myself), so I have to go the grocery store once or twice a week to ensure that they have milk, bread, eggs, cheese, fresh fruits and vegetables and other things to eat.

For most people, these tasks are probably the normal tasks of adulthood, but for me, they feel inextricably linked to parenthood, since I never really did them before.  I guess I should consider myself fortunate; I had a pretty good run in getting to nearly age 41 without incorporating these domestic duties into my daily/weekly round.

If/when I win the lottery, a cook/housekeeper is at the top of my wish list.

The discomfort of change

“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” 
― Rumi

“If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” 
― Rumi

Every so often, I go through a period where I feel the need to make some changes in myself or in my life.  As I have mentioned in recent posts, I am very happy with my current life.  I am very fortunate to (pretty much) have the life I want.

[Why the "pretty much" qualifier?  Well, like most working mothers, I would love to have more hours in the day, more sleep and a little more money.  But other than those things. . . yes, the life I want.]

So it's not my life that I want to change currently but myself.  I want to be a more patient parent.  (Achieving this goal is my current project and the one to which I am devoting my primary focus and the most energy and effort.)  I need to become healthier (better eating, more regular and consistent exercise).  I would like to be more organized at home and get rid of some clutter.

As I have settled in at my new job, I am feeling as though I have more psychic energy (if not physical energy; I am tired all.the.time) to devote to these goals.  I am also feeling that familiar restless discomfort that has always preceded my actually making progress toward achieving anything significant.

Now where to begin. . . .

Beauty in an unexpected place

I read The Honest Toddler for the humor.  (Do you read HT?  If you don't, you should.  If you're a parent of a toddler--or two--it's hilarious, and I think it would be funny even for those without children.)  So when I followed a link to that site this morning, I wasn't expecting to find this poem.

My family likes to joke that I am "dead inside" (long, old story) because I am rational and unemotional.  But this made me cry.

Enjoy! And Happy Mother's Day!

No Baby Fever Here

I met Jay's baby last night, and she's a cute little peanut.  I got to hold her for a long time, and she seemed to like me.  Little babies have always been partial to me since I was a teenager.

As I was leaving the hospital, I called MM to let him know I was on my way home.  He, naturally enough, asked about my visit, how Jay was doing, what I thought of the baby and the like.  When I related the above, he asked if it made me want another baby.  And I responded--just a little too quickly, apparently--"no."  MM's response was "Wow, *that* was pretty adamant."

Why, yes.  Yes, it was.

That brief exchange gave me cause for reflection.  How is that, in just a few short years, I have gone from wanting a baby so much that I was willing to go to great lengths to have one, to now being adamantly opposed to having another?  It's true that the biggest thing that has changed is that I now already have two children of my own.  I am definitely not in the same place today I was in three years ago when, coincidentally, I had my SHG and was given the go-ahead to start my DE IVF cycle.

But more than simply being no longer willing to go great lengths to have another child, I frankly find the idea of going through another pregnancy more than a little horrifying.  The months and months of feeling miserable.  Of worrying about what might go wrong, for me and for the baby.  The possibility of life-threatening complications at the end.  The (to me) seemingly impossible task of integrating one more little dependent person into my already-fuller-than-full daily round.

I saw a post on a forum I visit the other day from another twin mother who had also delivered pre-term due to preeclampsia but who is now pregnant again with a singleton.  She optimistically talked about how her high risk OB had assured her that her odds of developing preeclampsia again were probably only around 30% this time around.  Her twins are around the same age as our sons (just a little younger, if memory serves).

And when I read that post, I wondered why that risk seemed acceptable to her, even positive, when to me, it would have seemed like a good reason to stop at two children.  In a sense, her view is the more rational one: there is a better than two out of three chance that everything will be fine for her.

In thinking back on what I went through at the end of my pregnancy, with the preeclampsia and the post-delivery hemorrhage, I have long thought that I was not greatly emotionally affected by that experience.  I certainly don't remember feeling particularly scared at the time or thinking that I might die or be permanently disabled (although realistically, either outcome was a possibility).  My primary emotions were concern for my sons' well-being and guilt/shame at feeling I had somehow caused the challenges they might face.

But it is an indisputable fact that that little tug that I used to feel when I would hold someone's newborn. . . that visceral, maternal urge that spurred me forward in my quest for parenthood for so many years. . . is absolutely, positively gone now.  While I can hold and look at newborns and appreciate their beauty and innocence, they inspire zero longing in me.

So perhaps I was more affected by my experiences of pregnancy and delivery than I realized at the time.  Or maybe I just know that I have reached (and exceeded?) my personal limit for parenting.

Who knows?

I will say this: in a perverse way, it is nice to know that I am indisputably, unquestionably, no ifs-ands-or-buts done with pregnancy and childbirth.

Congratulations, Jay!

I am so happy today for my friend Jay, who welcomed her second baby girl last night.  Jay blogs at Stuck in a Baby Drought.  We originally met through our blogs and have become friends in real life.

It seems like just the other day that the two of us were meeting for lunch to discussing our infertility woes.  I can remember one particularly long lunch when I discussed my plans to go for a DE IVF consult, and Jay later ended up doing a DE IVF cycle at the same clinic a few months later.  Now my sons and her daughter meet up regularly for play dates, and our conversations these days revolve more around our shared challenges as working, 40-something mothers of toddlers.

One of the best parts of having a blog is the friends you make.

Catch Up

I sometimes think it would be nice to have a week, or even just a weekend, to myself, just so I could catch up on all the things I used to be able to keep on top of but no longer seem to be able to.  A few examples:

• I still have Chri.stm.as wrapping supplies sitting in a corner of our master bedroom, although we've now passed Easter.
• I have a number of outgrown baby items (clothes, toys, gear) that I want to re-sell on a local swapping site, craigslist, eBay, or take to my local kids' consignment store or Goodwill.  But they aren't organized or sorted enough to allow me to accomplish that.
• I did laundry Sunday when I returned from my trip but never put the clothes away.  They're still waiting in a basket and on the dresser.
• I know that planning meals ahead is healthier and saves money.  It also takes time and effort that I seem unwilling or unable to spend these days.
• We have two old, destroyed lawn chairs/chaises in our backyard that need to be thrown away.  One has been back there for over a year.

Each day, each week, I seem barely able to accomplish the bare minimum of required tasks: get myself up (early), get myself to work; work all day, with a break for lunch when I'm lucky; get home in time to relieve our nanny (goodness knows I don't want to pay her extra; we are already paying her almost more than we can afford); feed, occupy, entertain and care for our sons until bedtime; eat my own dinner, straighten up and spend time with my husband (if either of us still has the energy to interact with one another); and go to bed as early as I can so I can do the whole thing over the next day.  

Weekends are a little easier, since I don't have to factor work and commuting into the equation. . . but then again, MM and I then have to coordinate the full time care of our sons without the nanny, with only occasional babysitting assistance for date night once or twice a month.  And during those two days, we have to try to squeeze in not only some quality time with, and entertainment for, our sons, but all our weekly errands and chores: yard work, grocery shopping, laundry, minimal house cleaning, etc.  We also try to each spend some time alone and spend some time together.  Needless to say, weekends end up being just as busy as weekdays.

I love everything in my life.  I have a job that is intellectually stimulating and fulfilling (though I wish it paid a little more); I have a loving husband; I have two wonderful, healthy children; I am fortunate to have living parents and a sister and parents-in-law, with each of whom I enjoy good relationships; and I have good friends.

I just don't seem to have time for it all these days.

Miscellany

• I took my first vacation in three years last week.  I enjoyed it and also did not dread returning to work.  I think that's a good sign that I'm in the right job, as in my last job, I often dreaded going back to work on an average Monday.
• One of the best parts of my vacation was getting to see my sister, who I only see about once a year, since she lives in North Carolina.  We are both very busy with our own lives, making it hard for us to get together more often.  We spent three-and-a-half days with her and my nephew in Las Vegas, and it was great.
• I really enjoyed the extra time I got to spend with my sons while on vacation, as well as getting to show them new things on our trip and do different activities with them.  Traveling with two toddlers is far from relaxing, but their behavior on the trip exceeded my expectations.
• As soon as we went back to work on Monday and got back into our normal routine, for some reason, our sons have been misbehaving more than usual. . . really pushing boundaries, doing everything they know they aren't supposed to do.  Not sure what that's about.  Makes me wish I hadn't given up alcohol for my migraines a few years back because I could use a glass or two of wine after they go to bed.
• I've been exceptionally busy at work this week, between having been out of the office last week and preparing to be out of the office again all next week for an eight-day training seminar out of state.  In addition to having to do all the work due this week and next, I also have to do about eight hours of preparation for the seminar. . . oh, and all the usual stuff around the house. . . and prepare for my trip.  Oy.
• My MIL is having major spinal surgery tomorrow afternoon.  I wish she was not having her surgery the day before I am leaving town for eight-and-a-half days, but I had no input on its scheduling, and she just wanted to get it done ASAP, since she has barely been able to sit, stand or walk more than a few feet without severe pain since her car accident a few weeks ago.
• Apart from dealing with my wild and naughty two-year-old boys, my more-demanding-than-usual full-time job, and my seminar preparations, I have also had migraines the past two days.  Great timing.
• MM and I have decided that I need to start taking more time for myself.  It's true that I have had hardly any personal time since the boys have been born, apart from rare and sporadic weekend outings with friends.  (The reasons for this are mostly mundane and not worth getting into.)  So I have agreed to start spending two hours each weekend out of the house, on my own, with or without friends.  Now I just have to decide how I will spend that time.  Any suggestions?  (I won't be starting for three weeks since I'll be gone the next two Saturdays.)
• Apart from their naughty wildness--typical two-year-old boy behavior, I'm told--my sons are doing well and are quite entertaining on the whole.