Father/Daughter Camping Trip

Marc set off this morning with Jessica, Lilli and Sarah for his first solo trip with the girls camping. Jessie, who's been camping before with me and Becky, really wanted to go - just Daddy (we watched 18 Kids and Counting and Jim Duggar did it with his girls). So we borrowed a tent, packed up a sleeping bag, stuff for s'mores and booked a site at a campground about half an hour away.

Sam and I are staying home - for... PIZZA DELIVERY NIGHT. And I do say it in all caps, because I had to make it sound appealing so Sam wouldn't realize he was missing out :-). Marc hasn't taken the girls out by himself since just after Sam was born. I sent him to the Ecotarium one afternoon, and it was a disaster. I tend to be the one who corrals the kids, for lack of a better term. And we function really well as a team, I don't mean to make it sound as though he's incapable of handling three girls, just that he doesn't usually handle them, alone.

I'm mildly concerned because the older two are going thru a particularly difficult stage where they just fight all.the.time. And Jess, while she doesn't generally fight, is still prone to tears and drama at the drop of a hat - so it's not necessarily going to be easy. Lilli and Sarah have never been camping before and Marc hasn't ever gone camping with kids. I want it to go well - I want it to go GREAT. I want them to come home raving about the time they had. So cross your fingers for them, okay?

In other news... I don't really have any other news. My brother Eric, his wife Michelle and their three kids came over last night. It works out great because his three match up almost exactly with my three oldest - and Sam's got a hero worship thing going with his eight year old, Matt. Matt brought over a bunch of toys that he'd outgrown, and Sam is in superhero heaven. His youngest daughter, Amber, spent the night - she's a couple of months younger than Jess - and they had SO much fun together. Spent the day today with my mother - she bought Jess some new clothes for school and we hit up a couple of yard sales - which means, yes, I have even more toys here at the house. At some point - I'm going to send the children away and just throw at least half of it out - I doubt they'll notice ;-)

Mini Me

This morning, I had to drop Marc off at work for eight and then bring Jess to camp. (Which, on a side note - let me just state again for the record how incredibly glad I am to be a SAHM, poor Sammy was so tired and sobbed most of the way to bulbs.com where Marc works - I'm so lucky to not have to get him up, dressed, and out the door for day care every morning). We got to camp around eight fifteen, and her regular counsellors aren't there until eight thirty or so. We walked into the extended day room (where kids who get dropped off early go) and she first started to hug Sam and kind of flutter over him (which he did not enjoy, by the way). Both Lilli and Sarah were there, but they were busy with their friends and after coming over to give us a quick hug, danced back to where they were building friendship bracelets. So I gave Jess a kiss and tried to leave, and she attached herself to my leg and her eyes filled up with tears and I just couldn't do it. I know that I could have left her, she was safe, her sisters were there, she really does love camp - but none of her friends were there, the girls who usually run her classroom weren't there yet, and she was totally freaked about being left there alone.

I took her back to the lobby and sat for fifteen minutes until one of her room teachers got there. At which point, she was happy to go, kissed me goodbye and left without a backwards glance. But I was thinking, as I sat there in the lobby with Sam laying on me, and Jessie sitting as close as she could, that she really reacted just like I do. In strange settings, where I feel uncomfortable (i.e. family parties with the ex wife) I become super attentive to my kids (which is easy to do, as they have been little and demanding, and always willing to soak up any and all of my attention). Because I feel most confident being needed - and if I feel insecure, the quickest way to alleviate it is to focus entirely on someone else's needs. I recognized that in Jessie. Because I wouldn't want to go into a crowded room with nobody I knew standing with me, at least not when I was a little girl. I'm a lot more confident now, and a lot more secure about who I am... but there's an inherent shyness that I've got and Jessie is the same way.

I hate being shy - it makes things harder, I think. I've always envied the easy confidence that other people have - and while I've made my peace with it, I worry that Jess has got those same qualities. It took me a LONG time to get to the point where I'm happy with that aspect of my personality, to realize that there were quiet perks to it, I'm easy to talk to, people trust me, kids love me... and I've become more confident and better able to not feel as though I'm desperate to hide in big crowded social settings. Jess is so much like me, and even in the things that I wish she wasn't. She just is a shy girl at first, needs time to warm up, and isn't comfortable around strangers. It might be genetic, at least that's what I'm hoping, because now I feel guilty that she's watched me and learned that this is how you should feel - based on the past six years of parties with the ex :-(. That's really the only situation now where I feel shy and like I'd rather hide. And Marc - he's super friendly, in that he's never not totally thrilled to be surrounded by people. I wish she'd picked up on that instead - I think she'd have an easier time of it.

The glory of a new washing machine

I know it's just a little sad... but I'm ridiculously happy about my new washing machine. IT'S SO QUIET. I've gone out three times to check on it, just to make sure that it's really, truly working. It is, and soon I'll have soft fluffy towels and clean underwear again. Joy. Truly. Just joy...

In other news... Jess is off for her last week of camp. Then I've got two weeks of undiluted Jessica and then (sob) back to school... I love having her home, I really do. Even thru the fights and the drama and the hysterical sobbing that she can launch into at the drop of a hat, she's still my girl, and I'm happiest when she's home with me. Now it's time for my pep talk in favor of not homeschooling... she's happy in school, she wants to go, it's a safe, beautiful elementary school, and her big sisters will be right down the hall. I've met her principal, I've met her teacher, I know she'll be challenged, not just academically, but also personally - she'll learn to make friends, forge her own identity separate from me - and isn't that the goal? Really? To raise competent, secure, happy adults. And the second I start to feel as though school isn't her best option - I'll whip her out and launch into homeschooling :-) It's like getting married for me - I was able to do it because I knew that if it didn't work, I could get a divorce. Knowing that strangely makes me much more willing to work hard at the marriage because it's a choice. Same thing (kind of) with school for Jess. If it doesn't work, then I can choose to keep her home. But because this is my choice, then I'll do my best to make it great for her. That means getting really involved with the parents group, staying on top of what she's learning and who her friends are, etc. And thank goodness I've still got my baby boy home with me for at least another year ;-)

Busy, busy, busy

I love summer. Everything's so much better when you can wander around barefoot.

We went to Canobie Lake Park on Saturday. The kids were mostly great, except for my poor little Samilicious. He just doesn't like big crowds of people, I've decided. He wasn't miserable all day, but he didn't smile much at all, spent a lot of time begging me to go somewhere and nurse him, and was just, in general, unhappy. He wouldn't ride any of the kiddie rides, wouldn't go on anything without me, wouldn't play in the water slides. He perked up somewhat when we were eating, but then would descend into unhappiness. Not misery, not grumpiness, just not happy. But the girls had a blast... I really want to go back without children (which has got to be just a side effect of dragging Sam around, because the last time we went, two years ago, it wasn't anywhere near as difficult, because Sam was just a year old. He hung out in the sling all day and was utterly content.

We got a flat tire on the way home. 10:00 at night, with five kids in the car, an hour and a half from home - never a good situation. Fortunately, Marc was able to change it, the spare was also really low on air, so we had to drive to get air in it, and then make our way (slowly) home. We didn't get to bed until after 1:00 a.m. The kids, thank goodness, slept the whole way home - and Marc and I had a lovely little ride together...

Sunday was nowhere near as much fun. My washing machine died, so Marc spent the morning trying to fix it, but ended up declaring it dead. Heartwrenching for me, as I'm a girl who loves clean clothes... but my fabulous landlord bought a new one and it's going to be delivered tomorrow.

We had Sarah's friend party at Claytime - which was awful, as per usual. I hate parties with the ex... she introduced herself to all the parents coming in as Sarah's mom (which is totally right, she is Sarah's mom) and this is Marc, Sarah's dad. If she mentioned me at all, it was as "... and this is... Melissa." Just some random chick crashing an eight year old's party - not as the stepmother, the one who cooks, cleans, and cares for this child every single weekend. Being a stepmother is an incredibly thankless job, almost all the time, and it's not just thankless, but actually frustrating and demeaning at times like this. But (and here comes my pep talk), the girls love me, and are happy to tell their friends when they ask that I'm their stepmom - and Lilli's already ten, Sarah just turned eight, I don't have that much longer of being forced to attend these friend parties, right? And in the end, the ex can pretend all she wants that I don't exist, but I do - and will continue to, so it doesn't matter that she doesn't acknowlege my presence in the girls' life. The girls know, and Marc does - and ten years from now, I'll only have to see her at major life events of the girls, and it'll be a non issue. Sure, ten years seems like a long time - but my exposure to her will lessen more and more over time, right?

Is my marriage exceptional or is it just me?

We've been together for seven and a half years now - and I still really, really like him. Legitimately, he's my favorite person to talk to, my first line of emotional support. He's literally my best friend - but I'm also (blushing here) incredibly attracted to him as well. Our sex life is not as intense, frequency wise, as it was pre-kids, but it's as good, if not better, when it does happen.

We don't always agree - and there are days when he makes me insane. There are days when we're just so/so, not arguing but not really in sync either - but for the most part - we're just a unit.

Last night, I was driving to pick Marc up at work, with the two kids in the backseat. We drive a very old, battered Volvo station wagon, very traditional and mom-ish. I heard a song that came out about seven years ago, just after I had my miscarriage. I don't know the name of it, but the chorus goes "Its a great day to be alive, I know the sun's still shining when I close my eyes..." and every time I hear it, I get a little misty. Because that's always been my outlook, and after I lost my babies, I couldn't ever imagine feeling that way again. Everything was dark and dangerous and painful, and the first time I heard that song, I had to pull over and cry - not just because I was aching from the loss of the pregnancy that had shocked and thrilled me, but also because I lost that aspect of who I was, that level of buoyancy and joy and hope - and didn't know if I'd ever get it back.

Yesterday, I still got a little teary, just remembering what that was like, and wishing that I could go back and tell the girl I was that things would get better, and that one day, I'd be driving my two happy, healthy, vibrant children to pick up my husband, who's wonderful and loving and brilliant and fun - and that I'd get that joy, that hope, that happiness back. And it's mostly because of Marc - if he hadn't loved me so well, if he hadn't stuck thru the sadness and showed me that I could come out the other side, if he hadn't given me Jess and Sam and the little one yet to be conceived - I don't think I would have been able to get there on my own. Thank God I didn't have to.

Overscheduled children

Jess is starting first grade next year - and she wants to play soccer. Why soccer, I don't know - I would not describe her as an overly physical sort of child, she's never expressed any desire to do anything with any sort of ball, but for whatever reason, she thinks soccer is the way to go. She also dances -she's been attending dance class for four years now, and she really seems to enjoy that as well. Adding in Hebrew School (which is still meeting only on Saturdays for the next year, but will start meeting on Monday and Wednesdays as well once she hits second grade) - this child could well be a textbook case of an overscheduled grade school child.

I believe, for me and my kids, anyway (not wanting to judge anyone else's choices) that kids benefit enormously from having a stay at home parent and a lot of downtime built into their schedule. I think there's huge value in day dreaming, in reading and writing, playing pick up games with the kids in the neighborhood, riding your bike and playing in mud. I think for Jessica especially, having some "relaxing time" is really critical to her overall happiness. Unstructured play time, when she has to use her imagination and create something to do out of nothing - I think that's inherently good for a child. Builds creativity, self-sufficiency, and also a stronger sense of family togetherness - when your sibling is the only playmate available, you learn to get along and have fun.

Which is why I'm surprised to find myself wondering if I should sign her up for one day of afterschool activities as well. Dance, soccer, Hebrew School aren't enough, part of my mind is saying - let's send her to the afterschool program as well. There are so many opportunities for kids - swim class, cooking class, etc - plus time spent with friends, building relationships - the drive to enroll our kids in everything is so strong sometimes. Even though I consciously disagree with it in theory, I still find myself wishing that I could.

In reality, we are definitely going with dance, which will be on Wednesdays, and if I can confirm that soccer doesn't conflict with dance or Hebrew School, then I'll sign her up for that as well. I'm probably going to forego the afterschool program, because even though we could probably afford it, she doesn't really need it, and would probably prefer to stay home anyway. I'm just surprised at how easy it was for me to start to think that soccer, dance, Hebrew School and an afterschool program would be the perfect combination for her, knowing that Jessie would almost always rather just stay home and play, and that she's lucky enough to have a parent at home to take care of her.

In other news - Sam was riding his hobby horse today and singing to himself "Save a Horse, ride a cowboy." Not sure where he heard the song, but was terribly amused by it. Harrison and Jordyn (the other kids I watch) are reliably potty trained, mostly, but Sam still has zero interest in it.

Expectations versus Reality

I feel as though my weekends always so harried and stressful... and this weekend seemed to be especially so. Friday night, we had Shabbat dinner, and it didn't go well. I love Shabbat, it's my favorite part of the week. I make homemade challah bread, a big dinner for everyone, we invite guests and it's (in theory) this lovely, peaceful time when we all just relax and enjoy the night. And Saturday is supposed to be more of the same, quiet peace, time together as a family to reflect on how lucky we are and how thankful we are to have this life together. I love everything about it, from making challah with Sam, (he's so freaking cute, he carries all the ingredients from the cabinet to the table, naming each one as he goes, and put in extra sugar to "help,") to cooking dinner while the kids play, to sitting down with the whole family there, watching each child's face as Marc puts his hand on their heads and blesses them, Marc sings a little love song to me, and his face is so perfect and sincere. After dinner, we read together or play tickle fight on the bed and snuggle the kids to sleep.

This week, it just didn't work out that way. Friday was a disaster. Just utter chaos - the kids were horrible, screaming, fighting, arguing, shoving each other... I felt like all I was doing was refereeing. I had to take Jess to the doctors in the middle of the afternoon - she's been persistently coughing for over a month, and I finally made an appointment for her. Turns out she's allergic to dust mites - which are, for the record, everywhere. All the time. By the time I got home, the house was messy, the kids were wild, dinner still had to be made and I was hot and sweaty. It was not pleasant. My cousin came over with her husband for dinner, and it was just not fun for me. There was this lovely moment, after everyone went home, when Marc was curled up with Sam in Sam's bed, telling him a story, and Jessie snuggled up next to me and I read her to sleep - that was what I was looking for. But it was not enough to get past the general sense that Friday night had been awful...

Saturday was better - I decided to change my outlook. I was going to have a perfectly pleasant day, and if that meant that everyone else was miserable, I was okay with that :-). While this sounds awful, I think it was actually a really good idea. Because as we all know - when Mommy isn't happy, nobody is happy. And when Mommy is even more upset because she's trying to make things nice for everyone, then we end up with the disaster that was Friday night. I think a big part of it is that I want Shabbat to mean something - I want the kids to have beautiful memories of times together - and it felt like they were all conspiring to make it miserable, despite all my good intentions. The fact of the matter is that they are kids, and don't necessarily have the same expectations and hopes that I do. And that's okay - but I need to adjust my way of looking at it so that I don't end up being so angry at them for failing to live up to my expectations.

So I left Marc home with the kids on Saturday morning, took myself shopping to the library. There's little that makes me feel better than being surrounded by oceans of books and I can read whatever I want. Then we spent the afternoon at the state pool. Saturday night, we had a cookout and some friends over for dinner, and that was lovely. I let the house get crazy messy, did what I wanted instead of what I thought was best for everyone else, and we were all a LOT happier.

Sunday was a little calmer, we had Sarah over for her birthday breakfast, then sent them home. Annie took Jess for a couple of hours, and Sam, Marc and I all napped. It was great. We went out to dinner last night for Sarah's birthday - twice a year, we all get together, Marc's ex, the two girls, Marc and I, plus Jess and Sam and have dinner together. It's always a little tense, but mostly okay... Stepparenting is never particularly easy, but I think we have a pretty good situation, in that we cede virtually all control to the first wife, but are still able to spend as much time as we can with the girls. So she's happy because she's still feeling like she's in control - but the girls are growing up as part of our family, which makes us happy as well. One thing I think we do right is maintain an atmosphere of utter civility - Marc NEVER fights her, which is at times frustrating for me, but in the end, it makes for a happier situation for the girls, and that's what matters.