mothers day deux

May 12, 2012May 12, 2012 / emmykay / Leave a comment

Parenting is not pretty.

Last mothers day weekend, I begged my sister to come spend the night. Frank was out of town and I had to go up to my in-laws for mothers day on Saturday. We plant flowers and have a nice meal together.

But I knew I would be in no condition to go up there if I had the twins to myself at night.

And so I commenced begging Caitlin.

Because Caitlin is so amazing, the conversation went like this:

Me: Hey Cait–

Caitlin: I’m coming over!!

So yeah. The evening initially went OK. I mean, there was the requisite puking, but by bedtime, Caitlin was still wearing the same clothes she arrived in. We snuggled the girls into their car seats (that’s where they slept for three or four months) and tried to get some sleep.

I want to tell you I vividly remember what occurred that night. I want to tell you that it was a series of Norman Rockwell moments illustrating a generation of sisters passing along the torch of sisterhood to the next generation of sisters.

No.

I have to tell the truth. The night is a blur. I desperately wanted and needed sleep, but the nursery house of horrors had come alive in vivid shades of regurgitated formula and the soundtrack was the wailing and gnashing of gums. I helped Caitlin with one of the feedings, I think.

I know that I went into the nursery a few times and tried to help. My sister valiantly sent me back to bed. I was somewhat aware that she was in a new outfit – or that her outfit had been “redecorated” by one of the twins – but I didn’t stop to question it.

When I came-to in the morning, having had a few continuous hours of sleep punctuated by a foggy awareness of babies crying, I stumbled into the nursery at 6 a.m. to find my sister surrounded by a half-dozen half-eaten bottles and dirtied burp rags. Her normally beautifully-kept, perfect blond hair was in rats nests around her face (how do babies make that happen so quickly???) and she had the look of a woman who had seen things she could not bear to repeat.

Me: What… what… what happened?

Caitlin: Oh (looking around, trying not to break down), it’s nothing. They just… they just… THEY WOULDN’T GO TO SLEEP! (lower lip quivering) Why? Why? I tried (weeping) Lord knows, I tried. I sang, I rocked and they – THEY VOMITED!

Me: Uh huh. Are you OK?

Caitlin: Yes. Yes. I’m OK. I’m OK. I just… Just.. need… sleep. Please, make the crying stop. I just need to go to sleep. One would stop and the other would start. Why??

Me: There, there. It’s OK.

The twins, for the record, had calmed down. They were looking at us with a quiet satisfaction. It appears that the generational torch of sisterhood can be passed in either direction.

Together, we put the girls in their cutest outfits. I combed my hair. Caitlin helped me load the car for my one hour journey and then she stumbled to her car and drove home, where she slept until 2 p.m.

I don’t blame her.

And I thought to myself, “Is this how it is always going to be? What did I sign up for?! HELP!”

I wasn’t alone.

Around July of last year, Frank looked at me pleadingly and asked, “will these children EVER sleep through the night?” I told him reassuringly, “Of course!” but thought, “What if they don’t? What if we never sleep again?!” And then, miraculously, about a week or so later, the twins finally started sleeping through the night.

We had the same situation with feeding the girls solids – it seemed like we would be forever be covered in sweet potatoes and mashed green beans and all sorts of disgusting (and, might I say, bland) baby food. It seemed like the girls would never figure out their sippy cups or straws. It seemed like they would never crawl or walk or talk.

And every time I’ve felt that way, I’ve been wrong. Motherhood has proven me wrong more often than not.

So this year, I’d like to say three things about parenting on this lovely Mothers Day weekend:

1. It is epically humbling. Not: “Waving at someone across the street because you think you know them but then you realize that you don’t know them and so you pretend your wave was actually a hair adjustment”, but “Holy crap, I actually showed up to college graduation naked AND without the required number of hours!” But, the good news is that it’s not about you as a parent, but rather about doing what’s best for your kids and your family. So, you know, grab a trench coat from graduation coat check and fake it til you make it.

2. A win is a win. Yeah, your kid may not have walked as soon as Susie’s prodigy child or Donna’s baby might have a larger vocabulary, but odds are, your kid will not go to high school only saying “bah” (ball) and “dada” (everything else). Odds are, you will have a phone bill that will prove that your child has indeed expanded her/his vocabulary to include “Whatever” and “Can I have the car tonight?”

3. Old people are on to something. Live long enough, I’m starting to realize, and you’ll start saying the same annoying stuff your parents said. I’m not going to suggest that anyone admit their parents are (gasp!) right, but perhaps our parents might have a few pieces of well-earned wisdom. They still don’t understand good movies/music/books/fashion/texting/whatever, but they definitely might have a few pieces of sage advice when it comes to raising/chasing after/loving kids. I mean, I/you didn’t turn out so bad, did we?

Right now I find myself starting to wonder if the twins will ever grow up.

And I stop myself.

Happy Mothers Day to all you ladies.

a tuesday night.

December 6, 2011December 6, 2011 / emmykay / Leave a comment

It’s Tuesday night at 8 p.m. I am lying on the floor watching the twins play.

Carrie, who has methodically crawled and climbed on every piece of furniture I’ve allowed her to crawl to and climb on, is cruising along our coffee table trying to, very nonchalantly, get her hands on the large black remote control.

I am watching her side-step along the table toward the remote, while simultaneously watching Ellie writhe on the floor. Miss Ellie has to be very motivated to want to crawl and, coincidentally, very few things motivate her. She has crossed about eight feet of floor space in our family room through a series of rolls, pivots and shuffles. Along her path, she’s stopped to study fuzz on the floor, blinking lights on the receiver and to plant her face on the carpet while sticking her rear as high up into the air as possible, creating a human pup tent.

And at this very moment, watching Ellie give her face rug burn, I am comforted by the fact that I have twins.

When you have one baby, you compare your child to other children. With one, I imagine you wonder if you’re doing something wrong and, invariably, congratulate yourself for something you had nothing to do with. The joy of twins is that I know I’ve raised both girls almost exactly the same. They have faced the same challenges, they have had the same opportunities and they share the same genetics (pro or con, who knows). And yet, with so many things similar, they are nothing alike.

Ellie ate first, Carrie crawled first. Ellie rolled over first, Carrie rolls over most. Ellie is more calm and patient, Carrie is more… um… dynamic?

I’m sure there will be plenty of other times where one child does something before the other. But for those of you out there currently wondering why your baby isn’t crawling/walking/rolling/scooting/cruising as far or as fast or as frequently as another baby, hopefully I can offer you some comfort there are some things (many things, even) that as a parent that are far outside of your control.

One of my favorite scenes in the movie Parenthood is of Steve Martin watching his son run headfirst into the walls with a bucket on his head.

Yeah, I expect my kids will probably do ridiculous things like that. I suspect there will be times that I will be somewhat embarrassed even. And of course, I am sure I will document those embarrassing moments on my blog because, well, I want my kids to know that what they do has consequences.

So yeah, Carrie is right now screaming at the remote control that magically (thanks to mommy) moved to the other side of the coffee table. She is slamming her little fists of rage against the coffee table, incredulous that her calculations of distance and time to said remote were so off.

And Ellie, well, she’s been rubbing her face into the carpet for about five minutes now. I think it’s time for bed.

on being pete campbell

September 1, 2010 / emmykay / Leave a comment

For those of you who are not Mad Men fanatics, this will take a bit of ‘splainin’. Pete Campbell is an Account Executive/Partner at Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Price – a fictional 1960’s ad agency. If you’ve watched all of the seasons of Mad Men, Pete’s slimy ways have probably made you feel uncomfortable or dirty at least once – possibly twice – an episode for the past four seasons.

Here’s the thing about Pete: Pete knows what he wants and he goes after it. He doesn’t always take a path that you or I would prefer – he sometimes turns to manipulation or blackmail – but everything he does is because he wants to be The Ad Man. The other thing to know about Pete is that he is an account executive (basically a client schmoozer) who fancies himself as a creative. He is NOT a creative.

That all being said, here are my thoughts on Pete:

On Trying Too Hard: Pete wants to be an Ad Man. Desperately. He “acquires” all of the things that he thinks he needs to portray the image (wife, apartment downtown, etc), he reads all of the “right” books, he does all of the networking. But at the end of the day, he often just comes across as trying too hard. It’s awkward to watch and difficult to like. It conjures up at least a half dozen memories of stupid things I’ve done or witnessed other people doing. I think about my first presentations when I worked in advertising or remember terrible sales pitches someone delivered to me. I shudder at the memories. And I watch Pete and think, “Am I trying too hard? Am I making myself into a person I wish I could be or am I becoming a person that I am meant to be?”

On Taking Shortcuts: Pete regularly tries to find shortcuts, but his shortcuts always come at a much-too-high cost. Sometimes it’s his own integrity that takes a hit, and sometimes he even jeopardizes family relationships for the sake of authenticating his place in the ad world. I’m all for taking risks, but the things he’s willing to risk sometimes seem too great considering what he is hoping to accomplish. How often do I sacrifice a long-term item for a short-term goal? What are my trade-offs?

On Being Authentic: Pete says a lot of crap to get what he wants and hides a lot of things he does. There are a lot of things Pete sweeps under the rug, including affairs and a baby with another woman. Watching his character operate, the amount of baggage he’s carrying around is almost palpable. It’s like he’s teetering, on the verge of falling over under the baggage’s oppressive weight. And yet, if you asked him, he’d probably ask, “Baggage? What baggage?”

framing

July 6, 2010 / emmykay / 1 Comment

I had some posters in college that I bought at hole-in-the-wall poster store on Belmont near the El stop. We liked to go in this store to just poke around and find funny or interesting artwork or kitschy posters. It was the kind of store where they let you sift through their posters for hours and never bothered you about it. Just a few shops west of the poster store is the locally (perhaps nationally?) famous restaurant Ann Sathers (yuummmmy cinnamon rolls!) and across the street is Igor’s Dungeon (tawdry sex and drug paraphernalia). While I was in school, I bought 4 posters from this poster store. The posters were Romeo and Juliet, Jack Vettriano’s the Singing Butler, the VJ Day Kiss and another with a couple hugging at the train station. These pictures hung frame-less on the walls of my apartments in college for several years before I moved home after graduation.

When I was moving home, Mom asked me if I had any artwork that I might want framed. I hesitated when she asked and had to think about it before I remembered these four posters – I guess I hadn’t thought much about framing the posters. I mean, they were the posters that I sticky-tacked up to the wall in my college apartment. They were the posters that were part of a bigger wall-collage of sorority paddles and random pictures with friends and inspirational quotes. I had never thought about these posters as art, but when my mom asked me if I had any artwork, I thought, “yeah, I guess I do!”

My mom does an excellent job decorating, but I was still surprised at what an awesome job she did picking out frames for the posters. While I would have done something more ordinary (and well, lets’ be real – plain) – she picked out these gorgeous ornate frames. The pictures that I looked at for years on my apartment wall looked COMPLETELY different in the frames she picked out. They went from being college dorm-room blah to grown-up chic in less than five minutes. I smile whenever I look at them because they reminded me of something very important:

How an image is framed changes how you see that image. We talk about this concept in our culture a lot using phrases like “Perception is reality” and “Attitude is everything.” The way the pictures were framed changed how I interacted with the pictures, where I place them in my current home and how others saw them. Artists play with this concept by taking ordinary objects and “framing” those objects differently so that the ordinary objects are perceived as art.

I talked in my previous post about the different themes running through my life right now and that definition is one of those themes. When I think about how I am defined, I realize that the context is just as important as the content. I am well aware that the same word in different contexts can mean so many different things. The question, “Why?” can be insulting, intriguing, lamenting, fatiguing and energizing, all dependent on how the question is asked.

I have a lot of different contexts that I exist in. Sure, I am a wife and a family member and a friend and a coworker, but what kind of person do I want to be in each of these contexts? I mean, yes, there are things that will be consistent in each area – I am a Christian in all of these areas. But what kind of wife, family member, friend and worker do I want to be? And how do I feel about how each of these categories is shaping up?

I like to say “yes” to everything. It has been an epic battle for me to say “no” more often. I think when I was younger, it was probably wise to say yes to a lot of things so that I could have a wider experience, but perhaps it is time to become more selective, picking the projects and paths that are of more interest to me.

I lamented the other day that there was nothing that I am passionate about. I feel that have spent so much time trying lots of different things that I never really specialized in one area. Today I was thinking on this topic a little bit more and a few patterns of behavior are emerging that give me a few clues about more dominant personality/skill areas that I could work on.

So yeah. I know I started rambling, but I guess in a nutshell: I’ve got a lot to work on. And I will probably write more on this because I feel like I didn’t say everything I wanted to. But it is late and if I don’t go to sleep my context tomorrow will be viewed through sleep deprived eyes…

comparisons

August 3, 2009 / emmykay / 6 Comments

The other day I was driving along, thinking about our fertility situation. And I realized that the hardest part of the journey has been the comparisons.

Medical Comparisons – I often find myself thinking of friends I’ve known going through infertility. We talk and we compare notes and often I will say, “Hmm, I am worse off because I didn’t get that positive result on that hormone test like Betsy, but I am better off because I ovulated unlike Suzi.”

***

Situational Comparisons –Sometimes Frank and I will say, “Why is it that we can’t get pregnant but XYZ high school student got pregnant thinking about sex??”

***

Comparisons as Comfort –I have experienced this, and I have seen it in action. It happens a lot when people miscarry – well-meaning friends say, “Well, I know a couple who lost their 2 year old. At least you didn’t lose a real baby.” To someone who is pregnant, that child is a real baby and they are experiencing real grief.

Even still, I found myself thinking the other day, “Well, at least it’s not like I’ve gotten pregnant and lost the baby. I should feel better that at least I just haven’t been able to get pregnant.” It didn’t make me feel better, by the way. It still hurts.

***

Comparisons as Advice -Or others will try to make us feel better and say, “Our friends Lynn and Gary were in the same exact situation, but then they adopted/stopped trying/did something else, and it worked! And now they have 5 kids!”

***

I find myself experiencing, thinking or witnessing a lot of these comparisons. I was trying to turn my own attitude around the other day by telling myself, “It’s not like losing a child or a baby.” But it didn’t help because I still felt loss – losing the hope for a child or a baby that month.

Everyone has their own problems and issues. Sure, having babies is difficult for us. But there are so many other ways in which God has blessed us. Others might say, “at least you have jobs” — and they are right. There are so many positive things going for us. I rejoice to God in those things and I give thanks to God for those things.

Even though it is so tempting to compare myself and our situation to others, I have to fight it daily because there is no peace in the comparison. How can there be? I am not Suzi or Betsy or anyone else. God has given Frank and I our path of life because He knows us more intimately and more profoundly than anyone else. He knows how many hairs are on my head (and Frank’s too), He knows all the days of my life. He knew what today would be like before I did. In so many ways, He has graciously prepared this season of our life for us by putting people in our lives that have been down this road, have felt this heartache and have glorified God in the process. What a kind and loving God He is!

Most of my closest friends “get” where I am at and are truly encouraging and comforting and amazing. But on several occassions, I have had to bite my tongue and listen to people say things that they clearly haven’t thought through. I find that I actually have a lot of compassion for those people . It has to be hard to be in their shoes, looking at me and not knowing what to say. I totally get that. As someone who regularly sticks her foot in her mouth (and I have HUGE feet), I often say the wrong thing. And going through this, I feel like I am more qualified to provide a few pieces of advice to anyone wondering what to say to someone like me.

Listen. Really, really listen. Grieve with your friend. Ask questions. The ability to not get pregnant is difficult and every month that we are not pregnant feels like a loss. Only it’s not a visable hurt – it’s a quiet hurt. Don’t cut your friend out of activities or events because children will be there. Your friend(s) will politely decline if it’s too much for them or they have other plans. At least give them the option.

And please, don’t tell them “at least you can adopt or foster.” It’s such a personal decision and it is not a “fix” for not being able to have biological children. Adoption is a fantastic route for starting or expanding a family, especially if you are at a place where your heart is open to it. But you wouldn’t say to someone who lost their spouse, “Well, there are other fish in the sea.”

And hey, I totally know that 99.9% of people mean well. If you see someone hurting, then you try to tell them things to help them feel better. But sometimes part of healing is hurting. And that is ok.