Proof

Our vacation was fabulous, and I hope I get to post some pictures of it soon.

But until then, here is the proof that we went on vacation.

Yes, that is a zucchini.   

Accepting Victory

A cloud of blackness followed me around our darkened neighborhood, empty of all but a few stragglers heading home from the pool after a late night swim.  I was throwing a fit.  A grown-up fit.  I didn’t throw my toys, and I didn’t bellyflop and kick my legs.  I just decided that I couldn’t take another minute of bedtime, or rather, of not-bedtime.  I began bedtime with such high hopes.  I have been stuck between two opinions of how bedtime should be, and I have been failing at each.  If I have to snuggle my three year old every night in order for him to go to sleep then whoa, somebody will surely think that I am babying my kids, that I haven’t taught them independence, that I have no backbone.  And my own selfish voice, which may also be the voice that says the other things too, may add that all of this snuggling means that I will never graduate, because the length of bedtime, combined with the recent abandonment of the old idea of naps, has extended so far as to remove every ounce of free time I used to have.  Then option B, a lot of backbone, a bit of heartlessness.  Just tell Zeke to go to bed and that is that.  After ninety minutes of my half-attempt at plan A failing, I always seem to end up at plan B, which by the way, fails just as surely.  And it has its own added misery of guilt and magnified I’m-a-terrible-mother symptoms.  That is the cloud that followed me around the neighborhood.  For a while I just rolled around in it, invited it to sit on my back and crush me.  After all, misery wants company and that cloud of darkness seemed like the most suitable for my mood.

What a bleak beginning.  But it got better.  Somehow or other I decided that I was sick of my little suffocating companion.  I forced it to stay at bay by all those methods they taught me in Sunday school as a kid.  Sing a hymn, say a prayer, and ask for the Spirit.  What a beautiful gospel and a loving God that sends His Spirit even to a child who has been willingly carting around dark thoughts. 

So as I walked a little further, singing A Child’s prayer and willing myself to be inspired with the secret to motherhood, I was a little surprised.  The secret never came, and the cloud never fully abated (because lets face it, I’m still dreading bedtime tonight as I still have no clue how to handle it).  But another answer came. 

It started out in an answer that at first glance seemed similar to the one my dark cloud had whispered sinisterly in my ears.  The cloud had said, you are a terrible mother.  The Spirit whispered, more gently and lovingly, though still hard to hear, you are a flawed and imperfect mother, you did not handle tonight very well. From there came a vast humbling revelation, about myself and about motherhood.  Every mother is flawed and imperfect.  We all fail to teach some things the right way, we all lose our patience, fail to give our child enough attention, or perhaps we give them so much attention that we never have a moment for our own development, we are too lax or too strict. And a million other mistakes.  Last night as I stalked out the door to take a walk to either wallow or cool my head I was ready to accept defeat. But instead I decided to accept victory.  I keep making mistakes, but I keep trying.  I am doing my best, and that is a victory.  And it applies to so many other mothers.  Before I became a mom I thought I knew exactly how to do everything.  I watched women deal with tantrums or the gimmies and I thought I knew a better way to handle them.  I was inhabited by the pride monster. Thanks to bedtime, I have realized there is no place for that.  The answers to being a good mom and for how to handle each situation are not as obvious as I had supposed.  It is a difficult, stumbling, failing road, that keeps throwing me on my face.  I have a feeling I'm not the only mother lying in a mangled heap down here sometimes.  But I will not accept defeat, even in the form of bedtime battles that last for two hours.  I will accept victory in my effort to tackle that bedtime tonight and tomorrow, and then again and again.   

Telling the toys what's what

Yesterday afternoon I lay snuggled up next to my little Zeke in my deluded hopes that if I lay there beside him he would go to sleep as he so desperately needed.  Despite his droopy eyelids, Zeke had quite a different plan which including multiple assertions of his lack of tiredness, rolling, climbing, wiggling and playing.  I let him sleep with his new superhero toys, even though I knew that would just about clinch the not-sleeping plan.  As I lay there behind him he had Captain America, Ironman, and Spiderman battle and talk.  I tuned out a bit, but then I overheard this little tidbit:

First a superhero said something I was too sleepy and distracted to catch.

Zeke responded with "No! I'm the one who is playing with you.  You are the toy. I am the real person."

Ironman didn't act up again.

I've Got a Dream

On any given car ride (and by that I mean, every given car ride) Zeke calls out from the backseat "I want listen to 'Punzel songs please!" Then as usual I skip the first sixteen songs on our cd mix and together we belt out things like "though I do like breakin' femurs" at top vocal capacity.  Zeke has all the lyrics down pat.  And now every other reference to somebody having a dream catches his attention.  We read a Martin Luther King Jr. book, "Mommy, he had a dream too! Just like 'Punzel!" Listening to a little Les Miserables, "She had a dream too?"  This focus on dreams necessitated a conversation one day about what these type of references to dreams mean and how they are different from sleeping dreams. 

Then Zeke was curious, "What is your dream Mommy?"

"My dream was to marry a good man and have some great kids.  My dream already came true."

Zeke thinks for a second.  "Am I a good man?"

"Well, you are a really great boy and when you grow up you will be a great man too, just like daddy."

"Then you will marry me?"

"Well, no.  I am already married to Daddy."

"Ashlynn will marry me?"

"Oh, um, no." How do I explain this? "Ashlynn will marry somebody else."

"Then who I will marry?"

Good question little buddy, but one let's postpone for awhile, eh?

The latest

Since the kids wake up time has shifted to the 6 o'clock time frame, nap times have become more hit and miss and graduating has finally become a real priority, I have no time to blog anymore.  So Here is a crammed in summary of little stories and some of my favorite pictures from the last month.

Zeke:

• Zeke's imagination is still running wild although it typically circulates around movie characters.  Almost every evening (and morning) for a full week Zeke wanted all of us to run around in circles as The Incredibles (as the dizziness kicks in, we realized our backyard isn't as big as we had supposed.  Zeke insisted on us only using our official super names. He was Dash, Ashlynn was Violet, I was Elastagirl and Trustin was himself, Mr. Incredible. We run around and around and occasionally had to battle raptors and tyrannosauruses.
• Zeke is learning to master his big boy bike with training wheels now that he can reach the pedals.  He is doing awesome, except for the brakes.  Last week he started pedaling down the sidewalk at the park and suddenly picked up speed on a slight downgrade, flew straight off the curb into the parking lot (as I frantically run after him) and then conveniently up the handicap accessible sidewalk that was adjacent to his launching pad. 
• Last night at 2 a.m. I hear "Mommy! Mommy!" So naturally I rushed in.  He was lying there, mostly asleep and when I sat down on his bed he requests "Can I sleep with more library books please Mommy?"

Ashlynn:

• Ashlynn took her first step this week.  Just one.  But she is on her way!  
• She also said her first word...I think.  "Doddi" (doggie)  Hard to be certain, but we are counting it.  She will sometimes say Mama or Dada, but only if she is repeating us.  She also loves to make elephant sounds and monkey sounds.
• She has started throwing tantrums and I have to admit it, they are adorable.  She belly flops on the floor, throwing her arms and legs out to the side in frustration.  

This is all I can think of off the top of my head, so here are my cuties in action:

Hamming it up!

Handymen

Trustin installed a new sink yesterday.  It took him longer than he expected.

I can't imagine why.

Water

When you live in Vegas, you realize just how necessary water is to life.  We live in the water.  Ashlynn's second favorite thing (second only to her hobby of eating dirt) is playing in water.  Splash parks, swimming pools, puddles, bathtubs.  If it is wet, she wants in.  So here is the last month or so of our life, which at least as far as photoworthy moments goes, can be summed up as water. (and its only May)

 ironically, the first picture isn't of water... things got shuffled in blogger...I'm not an expert at this.

 One of my favorite pictures of Ashlynn ever!  LOVE that face!

 We turned the pool upside down one day to drain the water and then next afternoon Ashlynn crawled up to it and discovered that it was full of water from the sprinklers. So of course she had to get in.

 And Zeke came to join.  Swimming suits are quite overrated.

 This is another really common sight.  She is constantly trying to drink whatever water source she is in or near.  Zeke made some "dirt soup" last week and Ashlynn was anxious for a taste.  After all, it combined her two favorite ingredients.  She only managed to get one taste before I intervened.  Today she found a dirty puddle and bent down for a sip.  Really?  My cooking really must be on the decline.

 Zeke is still a huge fan of water too and no longer takes a moment to warm up to the idea of splashing.  We get to the parks and he runs ahead and straight into the water. 

Try as we might, we can not seem to get a good picture of Ashlynn's face while she is splashing.  Suffice it so say, she is a fan.

 Can't get enough of that scrunch nose grin!