a day at home with the kids

What a morning! It is only 1:14 pm and I am EXHAUSTED! And I haven't really done anything!?!?!?! I worked a very little on laundry, which I will have to focus on this afternoon (after my quiet time nap of course). I made a simple lunch of salad, hot dogs, and mixed vegetables and then cleaned up that mess. Well, salad, hot dogs and vegetables for the babies. Ryan exists on chocolate milk and saltine crackers. I stacked up the dishes to wash, but never got around to doing it. We all went outside for a little playtime. Its a BEAUTIFUL day 76º outside. The kids insisted on bubbles, which, up until this month I always thought of as a simple, serene, happy activity. Ummm, not anymore. They can't share. They each want not only their own bubble wand, but their own bubble mixture. Ryan is fine. Bekah knows how to blow bubbles, but she likes to giggle at my reaction when she sticks her finger in the soap and then her mouth. And Olivia, she's just pathetic! Her allergies cause her nose to run like a faucet as soon as it hits the outdoor air, and she can't blow to save her life. Olivia, you see, is a spitter. She gets excited. She takes a deep breath, gathers up her strength, and the spits all over the wand annialating the chance of any bubble ever surviving. She doesn't get discouraged (I don't know if that's a good or bad thing). And no one can help her, she is too big (and stubborn!) for that. She just keeps spitting and spitting until finally she dumps the last remaining bubble solution all over herself and anyone sitting close to her, which today was Bekah. Then it turns into a whole new game, or drawing on the concrete with soap, jumping up and down in soap puddles. All of which results, of course, with me dumping both Olivia and Bekah into the bathtub and Ryan, because he couldn't let a good bath time go by. Then there is the rest of it. The bathing part is just the beginning. I have to sit on the floor, next to the diapers, raising my voice over and over again, calling their names, as they dance around crazy in their robes and eventually naked. Its such a predictable, redundant routine. They completely ignore me, its like some kind of primal trance that forces them to wave their arms around, giggle, and dance. Finally, when my patience wears thin, I grab them each up one at a time and place them on their backs as they wiggle and protest my attempt to assimilate them towards a clothed society. Then I dry their hair. This is always their most fun part. They shake their heads back and forth like little crazy rapid dogs, trying to speed up the process. I remember Chelsea, when she was their age, used to sing at the top of her lungs. She was always kind of shy, but the blanket of noise that the hairdryer provided gave her the confidence to belt out all kinds of tunes from Mary Poppins, to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. No matter how far she was in her performance though, as soon as the hairdryer turned off, she stopped. Returning back to herself. Concerned about the opinions of others. Now, clean, diapered, dressed and hair dry, I was finally able to lay them down and have a few minutes for myself! It's so funny, how something simple like bubbles could be turned into a huge extravaganza of work and exhaustion!

Due to the nice weather I also had to go through their summer clothes from last year. Also a huge event in the Kilmark household. All of a sudden all of their favorite clothes are resurfacing and they are just realizing that they can't live without them, irregardless of whether or not they fit anymore. Olivia's Strawberry Shortcake short ensemble became a crop top/daisy duke outfit this year, but she's yet to notice. Its always amazing to see how much they grow in a year! Today Joan Rivers and all the fashion critics would have gasped in disgust as they saw each of them prancing down their make believe runways wearing crop pants, stars and stripes swimsuits, and cardigan sweaters all at the same time! Colors be damned, today, in our living room, you could wear navy blue, white, peach, orange, and yellow--all in one beautiful rainbow of cotton and polyester. And the smiles, they smiled from ear to ear like they were strutting down the red carpet. Proud of their creations. Ryan was the sweetest though. He's going to be five this summer, and is growing into quite a young man. He's all obsessed with Ed, Edd, and Eddy, and Playstation games. Yet today he was grabbing onto his old t-shirts like he was visiting his childhood claiming Rugrats and Spongebob as mine! It made me sad. I wanted him to go back to last summer as much as he didn't want to let it go.

Olivia said something cute today too. It really isn't much, but it made me giggle. She has a huge pink bunny rabbit that is about the same size as her, and it was chillin' in her Dora chair watching TV. Olivia came walking into the room with a chocolate poptart and said,

Good Morning Bunny Rab! Here, bunny, want a tart?

I just thought that was hilarious. Not only her having a complete conversation with this stuffed animal, but being such close friends that she could refer to him as bunny rab instead of bunny rabbit! And then being courteous enough to offer him some of her breakfast, how sweet is that? She is so funny. Sometimes I am envious of her, living in a world where every stuffed animal is your best friend and everything you pick up off of the floor is a snack.

ryan

Today is a fun day so far. Lots of dancing, laughing, and Wiggles. This morning I had to make a dinner for a woman in my M.O.M.S. group that recently had a baby, and the twins had to help of course. They sprinkled on the cheese, and ate most of it, and sprinkled on a little more. I took pictures of them and printed out the recipe to give to the mom. It’s a dinner that we have, and enjoy, a lot.

Yesterday Ryan said I few things that cracked me up so I jotted them down.

First we were on the way to Nana and Papa’s house and I said, “Ryan, aren’t you excited to play with your friend Ben Ben and Carter?” And Ryan replied, “I don’t play with Carter. He doesn’t talk like us. He doesn’t have a good brain. He only says ‘Ka’.” Of course this could be interpreted badly, I don’t want him to discriminate and not play with the not-so-bright kids (and in Carter’s defense, he’s not stupid, just not real talkative yet). But Nana said that’s not the case, Ryan played with him well all day. I just thought that it was interesting that Ryan not only noticed a difference but knew how to articulate it.

Then, on the way home from Nana’s, I was talking to Ryan about how we were going to Illinois for Easter. To the Scovill Zoo and the park. All the places that I used to play at when I was little. And I said, “We are going to where I lived when I was a little girl, like you” With which he responded quickly and appalled with “I was a GIRL!” Of course that was funny. After everything I had just spent 20 minutes talking about, the only thing he remembered was the last phrase.

The girls are napping and Ryan is watching The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl so I need to rest for a bit. There is a lot still to do this week before our trip to Illinois. I have to clean out the van and work on more laundry—in addition to all of the other chores.

stay at home mom?

This is my first day after layoff, at home, with all of the children.....I really realized that I miss my co-workers, and bathroom breaks, and ability to communicate in a language that all involved understand. My husband, who I dare say doesn't let them outdoors on his watch, wanted me to pack all three up (Ryan, 4 and Olivia and Rebekah, 2) and run them downtown to the city/county building to drop off papers, meet him for lunch at the statehouse, go to the bank to cash a check, fill the van up with gas, return overdue movies to Family Video, drop by CVS to pick up some Tylenol and athletic tape, AND do a load of whites. Of course I got the wrong kind of tape. WHAT A LONG DAY! OK, to be fair to Erik, he just asked me to pick up the tape, go to the attorney, and do a load of whites—everything else just kind of evolved. But to be fair to me, I also make breakfast, supper, picked up the living room, gave all three baths, and folded (although not put away) 2 loads of laundry. I am quite proud of what I accomplished, although I wish it wasn’t followed by a melt down of screaming and crying before the day was over.

And for all of you in my M.O.M.S. group this will have some significance. Although I am sure it is illegal and dangerous, I stick that votive candle we received during class in the cup holder of my van and light it very so softly while I am driving to remind me to find my inner self, relax, and ask the spirits/saints for help through the day. It is silly but it helps me to find peace, and drowned out the Rugrats in Paris cd that’s on eternal replay.

I've realized that I have to do some journaling this summer! And I have to arrange some playgroups. And clean carpets. And sort through summer clothes. Speaking of which---if any of you have any summer clothes for sizes 18 mos girl, 3t girl, and/or 4t boy PLEASE let me know and I will take them off of your hands! Even for a small fee. I couldn't imagine taking everyone shopping! And our budget when I am laid off doesn't allow for much. And I have to teach the girls to blow bubbles, 'cause right now they think those sticks are soapy suckers! I have to work on teaching my son the alphabet and fine tune colors. Potty train the girls. Get the wheel on the double stroller fixed. AND, if I have some extra time, they had kits on sale at Target the other day so I picked one to fix me up some rather fashionable leg warmers :)

I don't even know where to start!

On a happy note though there were a lot of happy moments! Last night after the girls were in bed we put Ryan down and we heard some rustling so we turned up the monitor....imagine our surprise and delight when we heard our 4 year old serenading the babies with the sweetest song....."Go to sleep, Go to sleep. Go to sleep Olivi-wah and Beka-wah" Isn't that sweet? That's what he calls them. Of course even after two and a half years he doesn’t know which one is which, but he at least he knows their names. Most of the time he just refers to them as “the babies.” I guess he doesn’t want to get attached. And they all behaved well today, saying hi and see ya’ when appropriate. That's an improvement! I remember when Ryan was 2 he was having a meltdown at McDonald's and when the sweetest little old woman stopped to tell him it would be OK he looked at her and cried, "I hate you!" The before mentioned story will always be known as my most embarrassing moment!

Jeez, I feel like I am writing a column for some demented mom newsletter. SO anyway, my husband popped in long enough to say hi and watch the kids for 15 minutes so I could run my last errand---he has a Pacers game with his buddy. With that being said after I put the kids to bed, at 8:02 pm to be exact, I will be opening up the year old Berringer in our fridge, taking a long shower, and "melting away" in some kind of pseudo-celebration of my first day, this summer, as a stay at home mom!

Later….

OK, its 9:02 pm (Damn that new daylight savings time! How can I put the kids to bed when the sun is still shining!) And I haven’t popped open the Berringer. I don’t want to face tomorrow with a hangover…..and besides that I am afraid that unbeknownst to me I may have an addictive personality disorder. I don’t see it in myself so much, but it frightens me when Olivia jumps up and down and crumbles into a ball of snot and tears like a heroin addict when I refuse her the 20th popsicle…..and my son with his chocolate milk in the morning….well, it’s reminiscent of a 50 year smoker jonesin’ for that first hit of the day. Besides, who needs wine? It’s the week before Easter and there is a special on Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs. Aha! Maybe my addictive personality is not so much a secret.

I don’t know about the shower either yet. It’s still undecided. I know it will make me feel better after the fact, but I am SOOOOO tired!

You know it’s so funny when we go out in public and five hundred people look at me with the double stroller and the boy holding onto the side and remark, “Boy, you have YOUR hands full!” That always strikes me as funny. Not real funny of course, because stating the obvious is just asinine. But it’s almost like a backhanded compliment it seems. I mean I know that they are just trying to make conversation and taking notice of my obvious overwhelmed ness (is that a word? Wait, never mind. Word tells me it’s not. But I can’t think of a simile so bear with me). It always seems to imply to me though that I “got in over my head.” And, although I used protection for 3 out of my 4 children, I “asked for it.” Now that my twins have left their infancy though I realize….I didn’t “ask” for it, I was blessed with it. They are each SO special. And I don’t say that as a “idealistic mother earth” person—you know, one of those people who think their destiny in life was to be a mother, breastfeed their children ‘til their five, and seem to have perfect children. I say it as an exhausted, frustrated, overwhelmed mom.

Chelsea, although challenging, is so compassionate, and has such a strong sense of right and wrong. She is so quick to defend the underdog and so much smarter than me.

Ryan, he is SOOO sweet. He’s not feminine, just sweet. He has a hilarious sense of humor as well. Like singing to his sisters. And the other day, when Chelsea had misbehaved and I punished her by not buying her a candy bar at the store---he matter of factly have her half of his, with a nonchalant, “Here, Chels.” Not to undermine me, just because it was the right thing to do.

And Olivia, she is the most sensitive. The artist’s soul. The poet. She’s the one that will sit with crayons and paper and disappear into her own world. Not casually making marks on the paper like her twin, she is very precise in her markings, almost as if she were entranced. She could sit alone for 30 minutes with only a pen and a blank piece of paper to entertain her. She is social, but has no fears of being alone. She always amazes me with her compassion and empathy. Every time she sees a new kid she immediately runs up to them and comments on their shirt, or their hair. Whatever stands them apart, just to let them know she accepts them. And it’s so funny to see her play with others….every time one of them falls (which is rather common amongst toddlers) she falls right down with them. I’m not sure if she thinks it’s a game, or if she doesn’t want them to be embarrassed—but I think it’s an insight into how amazing of a person she will be. Just the other day her daddy was playing that crazy game where the parent pretends to cry if they don’t get a kiss, and instead of the usual giggling reaction….Olivia bawled for five minutes. Just devastated that she had caused her daddy to cry.

And Bekah, well, she’s a personality all her own! She is a funny one, like her brother. She would rather laugh then do just about anything. She is going to be the boss of whatever she does in life. She shares Chelsea’s determination. She has a little OCD I think. Well, a little from me and a little from her dad…so actually it’s quite a bit! She has determined herself my helper/supervisor. Every chore I do throughout the house she is standing in waiting, watching my every move. When I start to load the dishwasher, she is scrimmaging under the sink grabbing the detergent. When I am washing dishes she is sitting on the countertop deciphering what should be done next, “Here mom” she says matter of factly, as she hands me a bowl or a cup. When I am doing laundry her little 20 pound self sits perched up on the corner, throwing clothes in, shutting the lid, pushing the button, and then, when I put her down, she walks away patting her hands together like she’s just accomplished the task all by herself and is ready for the next one. She has this “exactness” in all of her chores. She throws her diaper in the trash. When it’s time for bed, she runs across the room and turns off the TV, like it was her decision. When it’s time to pick up she immediately stops everything she’s doing and puts each thing in its place while the others whine, argue, and delay the inevitable. I swear if I don’t get them both potty-trained soon she will be changing her sister! Every time I lay Olivia on her back she scrambles to the basket to bring me the diapers and then the box of wipes. None of my other children even notice detail, and yet it seems to be what rules and motivates her. I’ve never seen that kind of preciseness in a spirit so young.
So, back to my original point (you may have to refer back to page 2, I’ll wait), saying that I have my hands full……albeit true is just ludicrous. I have a family of such different spirits and hearts and souls, the idea that I should have stopped at two is just ridiculous. That’s like God saying, “You don’t need a right AND left arm, I’ll just take one, you’ll never notice!” Even though they all got here at different times and under different circumstances, they are not by any means more than I can handle. I couldn’t imagine living without any single one of them. They together make up who I am, and without each individual piece it would all crumble as a whole. They are amazing….and I am just lucky to love them.

With that being said I guess my goal tomorrow is the same as every day before today, be patient. I did fine today until about 3:30. I don’t know if it’s because Chelsea came home from school with her customary “Bull in a China Shop” entrance or because I was exhausted and didn’t get as much nap as I needed. I need to not blow up and teach them to yell and snap at one another tomorrow. And lead by example. Focus on using my words, and saying please and thank you. Help them to find solutions, instead of yelling at them all and taking prisoners later. Take lots of deep breaths, and then a few more, and then…..when I can’t take it anymore…..put in Rugrats in Paris and breathe for a few more minutes. I know it’s easy to say all of this in reflection when they are in bed and the house is quiet, but I need to really work into implementing these ideas into my life. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, so I won’t be in the “swing of things.” It’s harder when you aren’t on the same day with your schedules in synch. But this week I am not going to expect much of myself, I am just scoping things out and trying to come up with a schedule. Maybe by Friday I will pull out the crayons and paper and in a week or two be ready for play-doh. Introduce the letter “A.” Watch less TV, read more books. Start teaching them instead of watching them.

My hope is to one day let all my children read this—so they will know that although their memories are sorted, I really did my best. I think that when you become “middle aged” (ha ha) you forget how hard and emotional it is dealing with kids, and I want them to read my journal as solace to their struggles—preferably while I am retired in an RV down in Florida. I think that as children we never really get to know our parents as people. Even as adults. We never open ourselves up to the idea that they have thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and their own lives. Maybe this will help close that gap. Give them an insight to my personality. We will see how it works. Maybe if I turn to this as a source of communication while I am home for the summer I won’t be as frustrated, it seems to help.

how to be a mom

I am only 32 years old. I know, to my children, that is old. One day though, 32 won’t be old. I will fondly look back upon it as my “youth.” I still have a lot to do, a lot to see, and a lot to achieve. I want to be a writer. I want to give people all of these random thoughts in my head. I want them to laugh and cry and think, as much as I do when I write them down. I want to sleep in. I want to hop in the car and visit my grandma Eichem. I want to runaway with my husband and laugh, and talk, and sleep, and date. I want to do all the things we never got a chance to do, because we were parents before we were even newlyweds. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a path. I don’t know what to do with the time I have. So my plan now is to make a plan.

Right now as I am typing the babies are finally asleep. Ryan is hidden under my quilt playing with my feet. Talking. Wrapping his fingers in between my toes. Humming with his binky in his mouth. They always have to be touching me. It can get claustrophobic sometimes, all the touching.

how to be a big brother

Today this journal writing is a practice of discipline. I am really tired and would rather be sleeping…but I made a commitment, so here I am. That being said, I never commited to it being a long entry.

This last weekend we went to Illinois for Easter, yesterday Olivia had an appointment at the eye doctor, and today….well, today I am just exhausted. Hence the irritability and lack of thought.

Ryan said something the Friday before we left that I thought was funny though, so I have to get it down. I can’t find the paper now that I jotted it down on though, so I have to remember it. I repeated it a couple of times over the weekend though, so hopefully it will be accurate. I told Ryan, “Hey, did you know Ben Ben is going to have a new baby?” “Is it just going to be one baby, or two?” he asked. “Just one,” I said. “So, you know” I replied, “you are going to have to teach Ben Ben how to be a big brother. What are you going to tell him.” Ryan said, “You can’t let your babies get hurt. And you can’t let people throw toys at them.” He paused for just a minute and continued on, “You can’t let your babies get hit by a car. I know everything about babies.” Finally, he ended the conversation with, “And you can’t let your baby get lost, or someone will get he.” I just thought that was a funny conversation. You know I tell him things here and there, unaware of how much he retains, so it was interesting to hear what things he remembered. What he thought was important to know.

Another idea that I wanted to talk about was being a mom. You know I am only 32 years old. I think it’s important to say that because I know to Chelsea, Ryan, Olivia, and Rebekah think that is old….but when they are in their late twenties/early thirties and read this journal they will know, 32 isn’t really old. I still have a lot I want to do, a lot I want to see, a lot I want to achieve. I want to be a writer. I want to intelligently throw together all the random thoughts in my head and give them to people. And then, when those people are reading those ideas, I want them to laugh and cry and think---as much as I do as I write them down. I want to sleep in. I want to hop in the car in a moment’s notice and visit my grandma Eichem in Enfield, Illinois….who I haven’t seen in almost 10 years—‘cause I miss her, and I need her. I want to runaway with my husband and laugh, and talk, and sleep, and date….things we never got a chance to do because we were parents before we were even really newlyweds. I love meeting people I don’t know and building friendships with them, because in their eyes I see who “Cindy” is….not mom, or wife, or employee, or daughter. But, unfortunately, because time doesn’t allow, I can’t nurture those relationships past their infancy….and I don’t have a lot of “close” friends. And that’s my fault, not anyone else’s. Erik would allow me all the time I wanted or needed if I asked him, but I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a path.

So my commitment now, other than this journal, is to make a plan. First with baby steps, to meet with one person one on one for a little “build the friendship time” once a week, and to plan a play group once a week as well. That’s as far as I am going right now. That is really a big step, there is so much to do here around the house that any time I take away from this address seems causes all kinds of guilt.

Right now as I am typing the babies are finally asleep…and Ryan is hidden under my quilt playing with my feet. Talking. Wrapping his fingers in between them. Humming with his binky in his mouth. They always have to be touching me. It can get claustrophobic sometimes, all the touching.