Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Stepford Mom


After a long and tiresome day I came home. I yanked baby off my hair and laid her on the bed. As I turned to grab a very much-needed glass of water, my other two began to kill each other. Screaming, hitting, crying! Full blown out fight! My baby begins to cry. She got scared from the loud screams and cries of the other two. There I am with baby in arms screaming and trying to pull them apart, with them almost hitting baby. It was then when I realized that I was wasting energy. I left the room to calm baby, the phone rings. “Hello…”
“Hi honey, what is that noise??” the caller asked.
“Oh, the girls are killing each other…” I respond.
“Oh well sometimes they just need to do that. Can you videotape them?”
I laughed as my mother-in-law and I proceeded to talk about motherhood.
         As I think back I think it was that instant when the beginning of my overwhelmed feeling began to hit me. I sit here writing with tears in my eyes I’m so overwhelmed. I mean, what in the world was I thinking? How could I ever imagine that I would be able to be a good, none-the-less sane, mother of these 3 amazingly beautiful little girls?? I mean, I can’t rest, I find myself complaining to my husband constantly (I’m tired of hearing myself, can you imagine how he feels??).  I wake up with gunk on my hair, yes! I woke up with gum stuck to my hair today, not to mention that I woke up to the warm sensation of my tiny baby’s pee leaking out of her diaper. I go to sleep with my kids crying EVERY DAY for one reason or another and no matter what I do I feel like they hate me!! I clean and clean and, no matter how hard I try, this place is always a mess and it’s TINY!!! How I can never finish cleaning is simply beyond me! Even though I smell like pee, bubble gum and cleaning supplies and I whine and cry uncontrollably my husband still tries to get “cuddle-y” with me every night (If I’d let him)!

I feel like I’ve been walking around like a zombie. Doing all that I need to do but at times I don’t even remember what I was doing.

My four year old walked in to the bedroom and said mom what are you doing I’m looking for the pen I was writing with, I have no idea where I put it. “Mommy,” she said with a smile, “it’s on your head!”
I reached up and it was! How in the world??  

Later that day my oldest got hit by the 4yr old on the head and began to cry then the 4 yr old began to cry so I began to cry, After a few minutes they stopped crying. “Mom,” asked my oldest. “Would you like me to call dad?”
“No, I’m okay sometimes grownups need to cry too! Are you okay?” I asked.
She said, “Yeah, it didn’t hurt that much, it just scared me.”
Then I asked the little one why she was crying she said because she did not mean to hit her sister. I said okay and we all continued with our day. Later that day I was sweeping and asked my oldest to bring me “the trash picker upper” she brought it to me after she asked a billion times what I meant I said the thing that I…I … I… what’s it called the… the…  “THE DUST PAN” said my daughter laughing uncontrollably! I began to laugh too so much I almost peed my pants then I began to cry because I was so scattered brain I forgot the name of the darn dust pan!!!

Yesterday my husband came home and gave me an hour off and it felt so good. They came back from the park and I embraced my tiny in my arms and felt like she had been gone forever. Then, my other two walk in full of kisses and hugs for me. In comes my hubby, with smiles and stories about his time out with the girls. I can’t help but feel so guilty. How could I get so overwhelmed that I need to be alone. How could I feel smothered by a man that loves me so much he doesn’t care how I look or smell?? I look at them and I can’t imagine myself without them! They are my life! Then it dawns on me:
“Oh Yes!! I’m only HUMAN! Not a STEPFORD MOM!!!”

Monday, June 21, 2010

The Cowboy Showdown


After a few days of hanging around at home and at the corner park, I finally got the guts to really go out. I wasn’t even out of the apartment yet and I was already exhausted. I just ran around my apt screaming for a good 30 minutes trying to get my kids out the door. There I go, walking down the street with baby strapped to my tummy on the Baby Bjorn, hand in hand with each kid by my side. I was enjoying the nice fresh air (or exhaust of the cars passing me) walking down the bustling street, when I heard: “Mom, mom! Are you listening? “

“Of course honey,” I quickly responded trying to avoid a tantrum. I had no idea what she was talking about! She forgot her shoes!! I look down and yes it was true, she indeed had forgotten her shoes! How? I have no idea!!! She had them on when we left, I’m sure of it, or can I possibly be losing my mind??? Well, I turn back and there they are in the middle of the sidewalk. Apparently they had both been screaming at me as I was dragging them down the street. I wondered if every other mom out there spaces out once in a while (or all the time) like I do. She slipped them on and off we go again. After a nice little walk we arrived at the Hallmark store.

“Now girls, we are going to be vey polite and not run or touch everything and accidently break stuff. We are here to pick out a Father’s Day card. So lets do just that in a polite way.”

I think I was the only one listening. We walked in and by a miracle my oldest daughter took this job seriously and went straight to the cards and began her search. My almost four year old took it seriously too, but in her own overly exited way, she soon found the singing cards. She quickly began to open them very abruptly one by one and I began the job of running after her trying to get the card away from her before she ripped it. I finally raised my voice. “Tinkering ballerina!,” (the name that I will use for my middle child) I said in a very stern voice.

“Knock it off or you wont get to buy a card for Dad.”

She looked up at me with her eyes wide open. “Now, we will take turns picking out cards. First, little miss teenager (the name I will use for my oldest child) will go and then it will be your turn, so come on let’s go find her.”

There she was in the pre-teen section (may I add she is 9 years old, a month away from 10 and she can’t wait to be a teenager)

“Mom look this is perfect!”

As I release my attention away from tinkering ballerina for ONE second to see the card, I feel her hand slipping away from mine. I turn and she is already half way down the aisle with a singing card in her hand. I stare at her and give her the look that cowboys have in the middle of a showdown.

“Don’t you dare!!!”

She looks at me with a face that says, “or what???” I’m thinking, “she wouldn’t dare.”

She smiles politely and, just like that, opens the card. I am left standing there, stunned that she would dare defy me! I proceeded to very politely walk over to her. She looks up with a smug and says “Mom if you don’t let me buy a card for Dad he will be very sad because it’s Father’s Day”

I am amazed that she would say such a thing. I quickly thought to myself she is right, for two reasons: If I don’t buy a card today, I’m going to have to drag myself and my fabulous crew back here in a day or two and I’m just not sure they’ll let us back in! Two, if I just don’t get a card all together Dad would be sad.

I said very politely, “you are right, he would be. So pick a card but when we get home, you’re going to be grounded!”

She stared for a second, and then said “Okay.”

Just like that okay. I expected her to be crushed, scared, mortified - I don’t know, affected in someway!! I knew that when we got home I would have to come out with a punishment that would be strong enough to put some fear in to her without killing her. As we walked back home I saw a little bodega (neighborhood store). We went in and I grabbed some bubble gum. As soon as she saw what I had gotten she began to cry. She realized what her punishment was. “Mom, I’m sorry! Please let me have some gum! Mommy, I really love you, I’m sooo sorry!”

That was the song I walked home to. When we arrived I sat her on time out staring at a chair with the gum on it and just like that I had the upper hand once again! She was mortified!

Father’s Day rolled around and they very proudly handed their Dad the cards they bought. Little miss teenager went first, it read: “For Father’s day I decided to sit down and make a list of all the things I love about you.” Inside the card it read: “Everything (wow that was easier than I thought!) Have a great day!” Very happy with herself she stated, “I got it in the pre-teen section!”

My husband with a smile said, “it’s totally you! Its perfect!”

Now it was tinkering ballerinas turn, her card read: “Ah, the quiet wisdom of a Dad.” It had a picture of two kids strangling each other. Inside it sang: “Dad, Help he’s trying to kill me!! Nobody likes a taddle tell honey!” Laughing uncontrollably tinkering ballerina said, “ah, its perfect, it’s so me!!!”

Looking at his girls so proudly he said, “yes and I’m the luckiest Dad ever!”

I stood there remembering the cowboy showdown, the lost shoes and me running around screaming like a chicken with its head cut off. Oops, there I go again spacing out!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Welcome to New York City!!!








Mommy Mayhem: New York City
I have decided to start a blog about my adventures as a mother in NYC. Why now? Well, I recently moved to New York with my very busy husband my 3 beautiful little girls and our amazingly big dog Marley. We are living in this tiny 1 bedroom apt in Manhattan. Yes, you read correctly “one bedroom apt”. How did we get here you ask? The short answer is this: my husband left his 6-figure a year job and we had to move from our wonderful apt in San Francisco. We always had wanted to be on the east coast and for one reason or another we never did it. So, we thought since we have to start over anyway, why not move to where we want to be and start there. And that is how we got here. To this amazingly big city full of adventures and full of people like us that come here looking to conquer it!
Only difference is I am a stay-at-home mother of 3. I am a wife, housekeeper, dog walker and at times I am my husbands secretary and psychiatrist, other times I am my girls walking handkerchief, other times their best friend etc, etc. I think you get the idea. That is why I have decided to blog; to blog about all the crazy moments I go thru as a mother and as a wife here in New York City.
I guess I better begin with the moment we first walked in to our New York City apt. There we are standing at the entrance of this tiny place after I had to carry up my tiny 3-month old daughter in one arm while holding (rather dragging) my 3 yr old daughters hand and 70lb dog’s leash in the other. I look up to see my 9 yr old daughter standing at the top of each stairwell (our place is on the 4th floor of the building with no elevator!) screaming, “Hurry up!” Mind you, it’s past midnight, I’m sure all the neighbors heard us, heck maybe even the whole block! Behind me followed my poor husband huffing and puffing for having to haul up 3 flights of steps, 4 heavy suitcases and a huge dog crate. Finally we get to the door of the place that will be our home for the next 3 months! After a long day of traveling we can’t wait to hit the bed. My husband turns the key and we walk in and there it is: this small, er, tiny little place. I turn look at my husband there he is happy as can be, eager to show me how great of a place this is what a deal he got and how it’s so fantastic that it has a washer and dryer in the unit and a dishwasher, all of the appliances are new and he is just so proud of himself and I can’t help but feel terrible guilt for feeling sad that I am here in this tiny unit!! Beautiful but tiny! I think he noticed my face and I see his handsome face turn from a grin to a frown “its only temporary honey, while I get a job and we get on our feet.” I know this, yet I still feel unsure and sad and angry. Once he hugs me and says we are going to be okay I feel better. We manage to drag the suitcases in with the little energy we have left as soon as we close the door our 9yr old daughter is crying uncontrollably. The 3 yr old is scared crap-less. Our tiny 3 month old is just lying there happy as can be. Then again she is always happy (for the most part). We are stunned and thinking she was hurt we asked what happened she just screams out “ How could you? How could you bring me to this dump!” As soon as we heard those words we knew this was going to be an even longer night. We allowed her to have her feelings after all we could understand it’s a huge change for them. She screamed and cried a while longer, then when she calmed down. I asked her what does a dump mean? She says, “Well it’s a place like this they can’t even afford to finish up the walls,” pointing to the exposed brick on wall. According to my husband, it’s considered a luxury feature in NYC. We all laughed and yes, maybe even cried. With that we all got ready for bed.
As I laid there in my new bed in my new apt in our new city I realized that the next 3 months were going to be filled with adventures and laughter and tears.