Just Breathe Mama

Ok, we got really deep around here for a few days … which I love because I am deep down dramatic and love sappy and warm talk.

However, yesterday as I sat and watched my three toddlers play in the sand and fight over bubbles, I realized something that I wanted to share. It’s not serious, but maybe it is… ?

This is pretty much life as we know it right now: Three toddlers. One Car. Do the math.

I’m usually (can’t believe I’m saying it out loud) bored when we play at home. At first it felt like I was a daughter of a dairy farmer declaring “I don’t like milk.” Since they are my OWN flesh and blood, shouldn’t I have a genuine interest in our play? I look at other blogs where the mom has colors, shapes, textures and playful snacks lined up for the day, ready to tackle a 12 hour period with energy, gusto and creative juice attractive enough for the most busy toddler on the market.

Most days our “play” looks like this: Whine and try to get in the cabinets while Daddy showers for work. Cry because we all want that toy. Push the baby stroller. Throw blocks. Open the media center, turn head half way with a grin and wait for time out. Disconnect all lines of cable on the main floor. Color on Elmo, but mostly color the windows and floors when mom looks away. Read books, until we realize mom’s lap only has seating for two. Blow bubbles, until someone eats bubbles or re-enacts “Pour Some Sugar on Me” and shakes it up, all over. And I’m usually trying to figure out a way to eat a meal or make a coffee and TRYING really hard to be present.

And I am going to say this out loud – this gets old. AND this age is REALLY hard for me.

I love them the same. I like them….ehhhh, depends on the day.

A few months ago I was sitting with a friend helping her feed her new triplets when she asked me when it got easier. And I looked at her, decided to be honest and said, “It’s easy now – for you – you just don’t know it. Now – as in when my triplets turned 18 months + and got really whiny, clingy and hard to please – that is THE hardest. This age, right now. I am struggling.”

She looked at me, with a straight face, recalling her older child’s toddlerhood and said, “Really??!! I loved it all! Truly – I loved every second!”

And as I recall this conversation, I can take a deep breath and I actually get it. This whole parenting thing – I get it. You just can’t possibly be in love with every stage. But you can be in love. And you can be a good parent.

Some of us like chocolate instead of vanilla ice cream – but still love ice cream,. Some of us don’t love this stage or that stage of parenting, but still love our kids. And that’s OK. We can still be a GOOD parent.

And to all of you that I secretly judged in my head when you said you didn’t “really love” pregnancy (because I was one of those people who had an opium ‘life is beautiful and everything tastes better and feels better’ when I’m pregnant type of pregnancy) – I am sorry and I get it. It’s OK you didn’t care for pregnancy. Maybe you are the mom that likes to finger paint with your 20 month old. 

And I ask you, mother of loving every second of your toddler’s day – what is your secret?

There have been many nights where reading your words brought me laughter, healing, comfort, connectedness, and peace. Recently, your words brought me prayer. I am going on 2 days pain free right now and it feels like a miracle. Maybe the prayers and mention on your website was exactly what I needed. I seriously cannot even describe how sick I was for so many weeks. To have a break in the pain; even if for only 2 days, makes me a believer in the power of devoted thoughts and prayer. I didn’t know how bad it was until I felt better  To look at my babies and my husband through my now healthy eyes brings me to tears. They are so beautiful! Thank you for sending out the cry for help (for me) and believing in the connectedness we all so desperately need; especially when we cannot ask for it on our own. You are moving in a direction we ALL need in one way or another. Love ya girl!

—

Wow. THANK YOU friends, friends of friends, neighbors, moms or nieces. Thank you for your help in healing. It WORKS. Look at her ability to now see and pronounce the beauty of her family. I was lost but now I’m found - if even for a few days.

Sometimes we forget the power. Don’t forget the power. I just gave you a pretty damn good example.

Be nourished and for real, breathe in and breathe out.

As we enter a fresh and innocent week — let us remember what matters.

Last week – most things I predicted would settle high on the list, either didn’t amount to much – or didn’t happen at all.

Instead, life happened, and here is what mattered:

Oldest nephew off to first year at college

Grandma showed up and was loved ” to the moon and back” by three little people

A certain son’s smile and pride after his first “potty in the potty”

A discussion between a girl and a boy – about the future…

My niece – in emergency surgery – after an appendicitis – and the healing that gathered around their little family

My first yoga class in the last month – humbling

Watching our three children, babies, walk into a school and turn into students. Watching ourselves walk into a school and turn into parents

One of those “watch your toddler fall face down in the kiddie pool” moments that makes you puke inside

The cuddles that happen after the “watch your toddler…”

The stomach bug that haunts you for four days. The one that makes you leave Target with new yoga pants. Enough said. (yep, I said it)

A friend that is so sick that she can’t even watch TV. Not the flu sick. Sick with no answers and there is nothing to do, say or send to make it better

Watching your mom phase out of 30+ years of a career she loved, one that still loves her

A friend that is beat to the core with exhaustion from a newborn’s demands …and her heart-broken toddler on the sidelines

A friend full of pink joy … as she awaits her first daughter

Celebrating the day she was born – with Grandma McKean

Having a glass of wine with women, at the end of a long day, shopping for ruffly pants for our daughters and feeling pure joy

Watching our children dance in the shower for the 1st time and scream… just to hear the echo

Sliding into home on a Sunday night, with skinned knees and the joy of a home team victory

Ready for a new week. With a prayer to clear my mind of what I think matters … and make room for what will matter most.

As you pack those backpacks for the week ahead of you, clear room for the un-expected, the un-explained and the un-predictable… that is what will really matter anyway. And you never know when that stomach bug may hit…

Packed and ready for our 1st day of SCHOOL tomorrow!

Well, I’ve been saying that for years. I also hear 40 is the new 30 and pink is the new black or maybe black is the new pink…

and this just in: Thursday is the new Tuesday. At least this week, in our world.

I’ll be back Thursday with the shocking conclusion to our first family dinner table experience. (Not nearly dramatic as I make it out to be.) I will even share the recipe we created together as a family. Yikes-o-rama! Triplets gone wild in the kitchen.

This week my sweet blog is on a little construction break. Or you could call it a coffee break, I guess. I’m over here learning with fab bloggers and our fearless leader Melissa from momcomm.com. I am in a virtual class called Content Brew  where I am learning and sorting through some exciting changes for our website. I am stepping it up a bit, so brace yourself mama (or papa or grandma or lady friend – it’s been nice to meet some of you non mama readers lately – turns out we all have a monkey brain.)

In the meantime, here is your assignment as my cyber-mama friend. Think about what topics you would like to read about, learn about and see more of? The goal is still the same – connect, nourish and accept.

Now, how can I help you do that? Tell me, don’t be shy. Thanks, forever grateful.

See you Tues-Thursday.

I take a shower at high noon (almost) everyday. It is my time to finally breathe, unwind and think about a meal with no whine-beggers. When I step out, my highest hopes are always for a green light on the monitor and radio silence from the nursery above.

Today, I found a quiet monitor and this:

Sometimes, the other person has to remind you, before all of this … before the snotty noses, poopy butts and birthday party play dates – it was us. JUST US. Late nights, mid morning brunches and movies and trips on a whim.

And although I would never trade “us now” in for “us then”, it’s nice to re-visit “us way back when”…every so often.

Kiss your spouse and do something that reminds you of why you picked them…why they gave YOU the final rose.

Happy weekend.

Our first “meal” … many moons ago.

When I was somewhere in the zip code of my early twenties, I attended a wedding where the homily was centered around the importance of the family dinner table. The priest explained to the innocent couple and ttheir guests, that the heart of the family unfolds at the foot of the dinner table. Not only are meals served at the table, but bonds formed, lessons learned and hearts grown.

All around the family dinner table.

I remember picturing this family dinner table; solid oak with six tall chairs and hot steaming potatoes (OK, most anyone’s early twenties are foggy – I am imagining that is what I would have envisioned) sitting in the middle of happy hands passing the beans. And I am sure I thought to myself at this young, tender age, “Duh Priest-man…first comes love, then comes marriage, baby carriage…and then dinner table.”

And then I got married. And then I turned 30. And then I had triplets.

Most “dinner table” incidents happen something like this:

Me, coffee in hand. Food, lovingly (frozen waffles) prepared. Them, sitting in boosters, looking me straight in the eye. The rest is like a Western movie – we sit, eye to eye. Finally, they bring their smallish, dimpled hand up as to grab a shotgun. Will they put the waffle/egg/piece of cheese/pork loin in their mouth? I wait in suspense…ehhhh. Foiled again. The waffle/egg/piece of cheese/pork loin is on the wall.

And it finally hit me. They don’t even know what a proper dinner table is. All they know is a trough-table sort of object where they experience great displays of inconsistency by the tall, frustrated adults on the other side. The “I’m taking your plate and you are not getting it back” followed by “ONE LAST time missy” (because mommy fears you may starve in your sleep because, really, have you eaten more than one strawberry in the last 24 hours?) And then, of course, even my “good eaters” (rotating between Q & G) catch on and find they will get a trough-table, inconsistent dose of attention if they, too, throw the said pork loin on the wall.

And so, I have decided, and am declaring it here, the Hackman Five will hold family dinners. OK, that should read dinner, as in one dinner a week. Start small, build big.  All five of us, ’round the table, using utensils and behaving like a family. Birthing the family dinner table. So you are accountable for me, yes? I will report back our learnings. 

Wish us luck. It’s scarier than it sounds…this involves meal planning for all of us…and the other small detail – all of us sitting, eating … at the same time. Boo for us that we have done this maybe once or twice in almost 20 months and hooray for you if you do this often with toddlers. (PS, we go out about once a week and rock the “dinner table” at restaurants…so we can do this, right? Right.)

Any tips for dining with toddlers ’round the table? Family friendly recipes? Advice to distract toddlers? Wine suggestions? (Just kidding, silly. Everyone knows wine is for after bedtime.)

Be nourished!

Worth sharing if you want to read where it all started…or if you really find triplets fascinating – I do.

Below is a link to our 18 month update…something I used to do every month with tender loving care throughout that 1st crazy year. My original blog – babiesbabiesbabiesinmybelly…a place that is so dear to me, I consider it my 4th child. Where I met many of you!

18 month Story of Us (I know, we are almost 20 months, oops) 

THAT was the belly THOSE babies were in…