Month: September 2016

We’ve all been there. We’ve all lost a friend or two along the way of our lives. As a Riding Instructor, I’ve lost clients over the years of course, and some of those have broken my heart. People come into our lives for a reason, it’s said, and sometimes it’s just for a short period of time. But each and every one of them leave some footprint – something that will make us think of them from time to time. It’s especially difficult when that line between client and friend merges. When it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. You tell yourself that you are not going to be friends with your clients – it’s just business. But that never works, does it? Some people are just meant to be your friends, and that’s probably why they became your clients in the first place. Same way of thinking, a lot in common, sense of humor and so on.

I look at my Baby Girl sometimes and wonder if she realizes when someone just disappears, if at two years old, she can conceptualize the difference in the people around her. Sometimes I think being two would be really nice. It seems like she just enjoys her life, doesn’t get overly concerned with who is there and who isn’t (except for me, her mama, of course). Sissy comes and goes, in and out, of Baby Girl’s daily life and she doesn’t seem to be too upset when she’s not there, but is truly happy to see her when she is. Same with Grandma and Grandpa and all the other people close to her.

I know someday she will get her heart broken and she will be truly devastated when someone disappears out of her life. But for now she’s happy with the people around her, whenever they are there. I am amazed by that. I wish I could be so content with the way things are. But memories and words get in the way. Somebody once said that you will forget what people say and you will forget what people do, but you will never forget the way they made you FEEL. And that is so true. That is what you hang onto, that is what causes the pain and makes you sad and angry. Don’t hold onto that they say, you must learn to forgive they say. Forgive yourself and don’t worry about that other person because they most assuredly aren’t worrying about you. I’m not sure that’s true though. I think only very self absorbed people simply move on and never think about what happened between the two of you.

Moving on is sometimes easy, and sometimes very difficult. If you are a strong person you close your eyes for a little bit and take a deep breath and find a new way. You hold yourself together and you tell yourself you don’t care. You let other people think you don’t care. Only the people closest to you will know how very much you do care. You cry a little and let your Baby Girl crawl up in your lap and wipe your tears away and you tell her you are sad right now but you’ll be ok soon. And then you are. You have to be – for her. She needs a strong mama, a mama that cries but then moves on. A mama that isn’t afraid to let people go when they’ve hurt her. A mama who can tell that Baby Girl that sometimes life is hard, but it’s never too hard. That she can handle anything that comes, that she will always be ok. And that her mama will always be there for her, no matter what. Just like my mom taught me.

The hardest apology you have to accept is the one you never got. And the hardest thing you’ll ever do is apologize for the way you made someone feel.

Here is a fine example of how we deal with food and mealtimes in our house: Baby Girl sees banana on counter. Starts trying to get it for herself. Then yells “reach! reach!” at me. Baby Girl, you don’t even like bananas. “Reach, Reach!! Pweeeezzeee!! WAAAAAA!” Ok fine, here have a banana. Sit in your chair please. No, let me peel it first. Baby girl takes one tiny lick…. “BLEH! NO! DOWN!!!”

Me to Grandma – Mom do you want this banana? “No I never liked bananas.” Sigh. Me neither.

I have read of people (moms) who actually make their own babyfood. Like puree it themselves. Absolutely unbelievable. Baby Girl ate bonafide baby food from plastic Gerber cups only until she figured out that none of the rest of us ate that shit. A friend of mine told me that I should use only glass baby bottles and jars, not plastic. That bit of advice went in one ear and right on out the other. The “What to Expect the Toddler Years” book explains in detail how you should feed the child according to the “best odds diet.” I started reading that section once and closed the book almost immediately drowning in guilt because there is no way. Some of the advice from that book (I shit you not): Grow your own organic garden. What a great idea! I think I’m going to just run out and do that because I have nothing else to do! I bet the toddler will be an excellent help mate with a garden! And an example of a toddler mid-morning snack: 1/2 slice of whole-grain bread spread with cottage cheese. Laughing my ass off over that. “WAAAHHHH what are these dark spots in the bread?! EWWWWW get it out get it out get it out!” And cottage cheese? Please. Not this princess.

Here’s my parenting style when it comes to food:

If she’ll eat it, it’s what’s for dinner. 

This includes anything from grapes to yogurt (all time fave) to chips on the floor, to cereal under the couch cushions to fruit snacks to rice to cat treats to what the hell ever. Anyone who has ever watched us feed the horses together will immediately point out “Oh my God she’s eating HORSE GRAIN! Is that ok?!” Well I don’t know, but she’s made it this far. I look at it this way – horse grain makes her thirsty. She’s learned how to drink out of the hose because of this. And she stays hydrated. Sort of like electrolytes. And the cat treats you ask? Well we’ve at least progressed to feeding most of them to the actual cat.

Seriously, meal planning for toddlers is the most asinine thing you could ever do. One day they think strawberries are manna from Heaven and the next day they’re like “whatcha talkin’ about Willis?” And why will the kid turn her nose up at mashed potatoes but I’ll find her sitting on the floor quietly ingesting a wax birthday candle?!

I remember wondering if I should get a chocolate cake for Baby Girl’s first birthday because, according to the “What to Expect” books, young children should never eat chocolate. But then a friend told me that she’d had her child eating brownies since before she was one. What? You mean I don’t have to follow what is in this stupid book? Revelation!

It’s quite simply beyond my understanding – how some people get their toddlers to eat really healthy things, like raw red pepper or zuchinni strips by choice. One thing is true, though, if a mom is actually successful at getting her toddler to eat healthy, she will endlessly brag and act all smug and in your face about it. And honestly, who can blame her? I have a feeling it all starts with enjoying that type of food yourself and never offering your toddler anything but that weird, organic fare. So they have no idea that sugar is the best tasting thing in the universe. Baby Girl learned early on that chocolate is mommy’s favorite food. She knows what a donut box contains. On our way to her school we pass by Chicken Express as she yells “tea! tea!” Makes me laugh every time.

I have to brag a little though. Baby Girl now eats only GREEK yogurt. Yep, score one for me. She eats a lot of yogurt, so this was a big accomplishment. But I’m not about to sneak veggies into mac and cheese that she may not eat anyway. Or whip up a veggie smoothie that’s going to get poured on the cat’s head. I don’t have time for that shit. I’m too busy digging around in my organic garden that I planted yesterday.

Hey all you Mom Introverts out there – have you ever sat in a closet in the dark just trying to re-group and make some sense out of the world? I’ve done that – before I had a kid. If I tried to do that now I’d hear “mama! mama! Mama! MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!!!” and hammering on the door non stop til I gave up and came out. Sort of like when you try to go to the bathroom alone. I’ve gotten to where I just leave the damn door open when I pee. So if any one comes to visit – you’re forewarned. Of course, being an extreme introvert, it’s very unlikely that a invitation to visit will come from me. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you, it’s just too much damn effort right now. My dad walked into my house yesterday (I wasn’t home yet) and texted me that he was “sitting and watching to make sure another bomb doesn’t go off.” Yep. That’s life with a toddler. Bombs go off multiple times a day, cleaning up is fruitless and alone time is not an option.

As all introverts know, Energy is a priceless treasure and something to expend with great reserve. I could spend days alone and not mind it. I remember the first time my husband took Baby Girl somewhere for the weekend – I hardly moved from the peaceful, silent solitude of my couch. I just breathed it in, absorbed the atmosphere that dust and ghosts settle in. I was rejuvenated for about three days after they came home. Then it set in again – that desire, that need to be alone for awhile. And ten minutes does NOT cut it. Yeah, a bubble bath with a glass of wine while she’s asleep is lovely, but it doesn’t come close to being all the alone time I need. If you are listening for every breath and movement on the baby monitor, you are not alone. If you know you will be waking up at midnight, and 4 am, and 5:30 am to soothe baby, you are not alone. If you are rushing like mad to clean the dishes and do some laundry before she wakes up, you are not alone. If you are passed out on the living room couch while she’s napping and have that baby monitor right by your ear, you are not alone. If you are hurrying out the door before she notices and shopping like a madwomen through Walmart to get back while hubby takes care of baby, you are not alone.

And if you have the kind of child that barely slows down long enough to eat or bathe or sleep and you are constantly required to give, give, give your time and your energy – well – you are not, obviously, alone. I would love it if she would snuggle with me while watching a movie, or reading books. But that’s just not her. She’s way too busy discovering the world to do that. I admire that about her. She can be a little social butterfly a lot of the time. And I’m so glad. My heart would ache for her if she was as shy and introverted as I am. In the one way we are truly different, I rejoice that she doesn’t seem to need alone time as much as I do. I pray that it stays that way for her.

So if sometimes I seem a little anti-social when you are here at the barn, or if you see me at a horseshow and think I’m stuck up or rude, I ask you to kindly give me, and all introverted moms, a break. When you see me might be the only time that day that I am not giving of myself to a toddler. I’m probably giving of myself to a client, or a horse, or a colleague instead. If you send me funny clips on Facebook or tag me in a post and I don’t respond – it’s only because I just don’t have any more energy to give, or quite probably, I’m attempting to be asleep. Even though I truly appreciate that you thought of me.

I know I am not the only introverted mom out there – there’s quite a lot of you who will understand the panic you face when you just simply cannot handle any of it anymore. When you are rocking the baby with tears coming down your face because she just won’t sleep – and thus limiting the “down time” you have before your own bedtime. When all you can hear is Jennifer Garner’s reading of “Go the F**k to Sleep” in your head.

When your husband comes in and takes over even though he’s dead on his feet too, because he knows.

There’s light at the end of the tunnel introvert moms. Someday they will all be going to school every day. And while we revere and cherish the time we have with our toddlers, I can honestly say that I will probably really enjoy “momming” more when I have more time to be truly alone. In my closet. Or wherever.

I have basically had Baby Girl signed up for Mother’s Day Out since she was about 11 months old. We live in a small town. There are not many options for daycare, etc around here. So when I found a Mother’s Day Out program at a baptist church I pounced. Went that day to visit. It was May of 2015. Baby wasn’t yet One. They oohed and aahed over how cute she is (of course) and showed me around and said she had to be 2 to attend. Well Rats. Two is a long way away I thought. Then they said that all the kids who already attend get first priority and that their little brothers and sisters get first priority as new students. Well Double Rats. So I asked for an application. It will be due March 21, 2016 they said, to start in September of 2016. Baby Girl would be 27 months old by then. Perfect.

I took that application home, filled it out, and FILED IT. Waited not so patiently for March 21 to roll around. About March 10th I could wait no longer, so afraid was I of not being selected, and I mailed that sucker in with the deposit. Heard nothing. Check was cashed. Still heard nothing. Start panicking. Called up the Director. Yes, Baby Girl has been enrolled. Aaahhhhh! The most soothing words I ever did hear. You mean, in about six more months, I get to have some ME TIME?! Yes, they said. Tuesday and Thursdays. For five hours each day. FIVE HOURS. Amazing.

I cannot tell you the excitement with which I waited out those six months. September 6th could not arrive fast enough. Being a (basically) stay at home mom is the hardest thing I have ever done. It was time to take some time back for myself. I promised myself that the first day of MDO I would curl up in my office and sleep for five hours. Well I didn’t actually do that, although it was certainly tempting. I went to Target instead. I’ll bet most of you can understand what going to Target alone means to a mom. I pretty much danced through the aisles and sang Hallelujah.

Still, I was trepidatious about leaving Baby Girl on that first day. She had never been away from me and with strangers for five hours at a time. We got there early (because, of course) and we walked in and she looked around at all the new toys and it was like I just disappeared. About ten minutes into it I leaned over to her and said “OK Baby, mommy’s leaving now.” She barely glanced up and said “bye.” Well ok then. I guess you’re going to be fine.

About three hours later the Director called and was explaining that Baby Girl had somehow gotten all these bites all over her belly. I said “is she crying?” No. “Is she distressed in any way?” No, she doesn’t seem to be. In fact, we found the ant pile she must have somehow rolled around in and she never said a word, never cried or anything! Do you want to come and check her out or just wait til pick up time to look at her? HELL NO I don’t want to come check her out! She’s not crying, she’s not in any pain – she’s fine! She’s a tough kid. I think the Director was relieved that I wasn’t going to sue or something. And I didn’t really say Hell No to the Baptist church school director – I promise.

When I picked her up she was much more interested in some stuffed dog than she was in seeing me. Baby Girl never did complain about the ant bites. The poor teacher was much more freaked out than she was. Kept telling me how they were going to check for ants again and spray and probably just play in the gym on Thursday.  I was like, lady, she’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I promise I’m not going to sue anyone. She got in the truck all happy and smiles. Most of the other kids were bawling. It is a little unnerving that my kid is that independent at two years old.

So the report from the first day was that Baby Girl was quiet all day but played a lot and had a good time. On the second day of MDO I told the teacher that Baby Girl might be a little cranky that day because she hadn’t slept well. She answered “I can’t imagine her EVER being cranky!” I managed to keep the eye roll inside. You just wait teacher lady…

Second day went much like the first – Baby Girl was happy to be there and happy when I picked her up. Played her little heart out they said. Me too, I wanted to tell them. I had a great time with the horses in my backyard. Also, lucky for me, she was asleep within ten minutes of getting home both days!

This MDO thing is gonna be good for both of us. I might just be able to handle toddlerhood after all.

Body image is a tricky thing. Having a baby at almost 40 was a very unkind and “kick you in the stomach agony” thing to do to myself, as far as body image goes. I used to be considered tiny – people would actually say to me “oh wow you’re so tiny!” In my own view, of course, I did not think so and was unsure how to respond to this. Gee thanks? Even when I was pregnant people would say how tiny I was, how tiny my baby bump was.

I see celebrities online all the time that are a helluva lot tinier than I ever was.  And it’s crazy to me, to even SAY to someone how tiny they are, like you could win a prize for it. I mean, you wouldn’t tell someone who is fat “WOW! You’re so huge!” Same thing for being considered beautiful – people say Oh my gosh, you’re so pretty! But, Wow! You’re so ugly! is just not something that would ever pass our lips.

So anyways… before I was pregnant I was pretty fit and trim – but not skinny. I rode a lot, cleaned stalls, wrestled horses. I stayed in shape without even really trying. Pretty much ate whatever I wanted. And I wasn’t totally thrilled with my body even then. So being pregnant while getting close to that magical age of 40, where everything starts to slow down, was the pits. I gained weight of course and I remember my Chiropractor saying to me “whatever you put on, you have to take off!” I wanted to slug him. Shut up! When you grow a whole little human inside of you then you can talk jack-wagon! Because he is an otherwise very nice guy, I just ignored these little tidbits of “advice.”

My self-image took a huge hit during this time. I was ecstatic to be having a baby, and very proud – took lots of pregnant pictures. BUT I was also very aware that I was no longer fit, trim, or tiny (reality is still sometimes hard to accept – that being pregnant makes you bigger… Duh. I didn’t even want to know how much I had gained. I refused to look at the scale at the OB’s office) So when I had lost almost all of the baby weight four months after she was born, I was thrilled! I thought I looked fantastic. I thought I would be one of those moms who just had the good fortune of the weight melting off and going back to normal without even trying.

THEN. I quit breastfeeding and BAM. Who the hell knew that breastfeeding makes you lose all the weight?!?!? Not me. What a cruel, cruel joke played on my body. After I realized what was happening, I actually had to go on an anti-depressant. I’m not kidding – it was that traumatic. I’m still nowhere near where I want to be. Apparently you have to actually eat less and exercise more. I read in a book about pregnancy that after the baby is born you should strap that baby on your back so it’s extra weight to carry, and walk or run every day to lose pounds and get back to your old self. Well let me tell ya, you’re never gonna get back to your old self! No matter what. And I didn’t want to exercise when I was carrying that bowling ball in FRONT in my belly – why on earth would I want to exercise carrying it on my back?!

When my husband and I discussed whether we would have another baby (it wasn’t really a discussion so much as him saying NO and me saying

ok) one of the main reasons I didn’t want to was because I didn’t want to gain even more weight! That might sound like a terrible reason not to have another kid, but it’s the honest to God truth and I don’t think it’s the worst reason anybody ever came up with. The child we have was a miracle to us, and I truly believe she’s the only one I was meant to have. (In other words, if you’re reading this blog please don’t ask if I’m ready for another one. It really stresses me out!)

These days, 27 months after the baby was born, I still feel sluggish most days, I still feel slow – even my brain has slowed down. I still feel fat and annoyed that I don’t look like I used to. I still want to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. I still can’t. I still hate the way I look in photos. I still look tired. I am tired. I still want to shout out to the world – “this ISN’T ME!! This ISN’T the way I am supposed to look!”

But, well, maybe it is.

Today we had to say goodbye to our Hannah, as she moves back to her home state of Colorado. Hannah has worked for me for two years, since Baby Girl was about 4 months old. She started out just working in the barn, feeding horses and cleaning stalls. I began to teach her horsemanship and english riding and she blossomed in front of my eyes. She started out as a 19 year old kid and is leaving today as a 21 year old woman. Tough times and tougher lessons were endured and learned during her time here, and her work in the barn was invaluable.

But what I am going to miss the most is the relationship she had with my daughter. “Hannah” is the first word that meant another person besides myself that she learned to say. And she would screech it and shout it and scream with happiness when she would see Hannah working outside. She would demand to go outside to see Hannah and she would run to her with outstretched arms. For her part Hannah was always happy to see Baby Girl and would play with her for hours. Hannah saved my sanity during those long days when I needed to get away, or go outside and ride. She was always up for anything I asked her to do, and she did it with all of her heart.

As an older mom, one of the absolute hardest things for me to do in order to have a child was to basically give up the life I had before. Because no matter how you think it will work out, the life you had before will completely cease to exist. My life was horses. Riding, teaching, training, cleaning, organizing, horseshowing. I still do all that to some extent but if before I worked 60 plus hour weeks, now I work maybe 20. When you have a child something has to give, and for me that something was the one thing I knew how to do.

Hannah stepped in when I really needed someone. God has this crazy way of putting people in my path when I need them. He did the same thing right before Skylar was born, by sending me an old student to teach and do camps for me during Skylar’s first month of life. She was a literal God-send, and Hannah was too. Slowly, I began to trust Hannah with watching and babysitting Baby Girl and it didn’t take me long to establish a babysitting schedule of sorts with Hannah. She was what I needed in order to be able to occasionally feel like my old self again. And, Bless Her, because she never once complained. She NEVER ONCE said she didn’t want to watch my child, or that she’d rather do the barn work. This girl has a heart as big as Texas.

Perhaps this blog post isn’t as humorous as the others, and perhaps people will find it boring, but I could not let this day go by without telling Hannah, one more time, how much I will miss her. My daughter doesn’t understand that she won’t see Hannah from here on out and I hope that at 27 months old, it won’t have too much impact on her. But I absolutely know that she will remember Hannah and if Hannah comes back next summer (like she promised to!) that Baby Girl will run to her with outstretched arms, screeching with happiness to see her Hannah.