An honest letter to my babies

July 12, 2012

To my dear Mister Man and Sweet Pea,

Been thinking about writing a letter like this to you two for awhile now. Given the fact that you both conked out early tonight and I got my workout finished before 9pm, now is as good a time as ever.

These past four years with the two of you in our life, have been the best (and most challenging) years your Daddy and I have ever experienced, and they have not passed without some majorly scary ups and downs. When I say "ups", I really mean manic. My "downs" were before you both were born.

You see, your mommy has Bipolar Disorder.

It's something I probably won't explain to you until you are much older. You don't see me take my medication every day, but you have been with me to see my psychiatrist. You both just love the toys she has there at her office, and now when I tell you that "Mommy has to go to the doctor," you always ask if you can play with the toys at the office. Last time I had to go "to the doctor" I was referring to my gynecologist and she only had a plastic uterus to play with which wasn't as fun, was it?

Right now my illness is mainly hidden from you, but there are times its characteristics creep out of me in the ways I sometimes respond to your behaviors. There are times when I may yell a little too loud, or in a nasty way complete with a scowl on my face. Maybe it's just part of being a little worn out from the whole Stay-At-Home-Mom thing, but I believe that my occasional outbursts have something to do with my condition. My patience is so thin you could poke a hole in it with a feather. Not all the times, but sometimes. Especially when it's the week before my period. Not fun. Not fun for anyone in this household.

Your Daddy and I have worked so hard together to manage this thing though. We're beating it, he and I. We're doing it together. He, by tolerating my moods and by hugging and holding me when I need the extra love and feeling of security only his arms can provide. And me, by taking my meds, seeing my doctor and therapist, and eating right and exercising.

Whenever I do have a moment where I lash out and am unkind to either of you, I immediately feel full of regret and wish I could go back 10 minutes in time to re-do what happened again so that I could handle the situation differently, more lovingly. But I guess that's kindof what parenting is all about; learning from our mistakes and doing things better next time.

I try to make up for any mean/sad/bigfatwettearsrollingdownthecheeks situations by smothering you with hugs and kisses after we've resolved whatever we were arguing about. In fact, I read an article recently online that said that kids need 12 hugs a day and I have started to work hard to exceed that with each of you. I feel so complete when I have your arms wrapped around me, and the funny thing about it is that when I ask one of you for a hug, the other usually immediately runs over and joins in and we have a group hug going on which is so special to me. Love, love, LOVE those moments. I crave more of them every day that goes by.

I love my time at home with you two and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I'm feeling nervous about going back to work next week, even though it is from home and it's only part-time, because it's going to take away from precious hours I spend with my loves. Mister Man, I may not get to sneak into your room at the end of naptime, when I see that you're just starting to stir on the monitor, to curl up with you and snuggle and take long whiffs of your hair and neck. Sweet Pea, I may not get to sing you "Twinkle, Twinkle" before naptime, and rock you until your sleepy eyelids start to drift closed. I'm hoping that by working my part-time hours right smack in the middle of the day that the only thing I'm going to be missing is naptime, but the more I think about it, the sadder I get because even when you don't sleep, Little Man, I still enjoy the quiet time we have together while your sister is snoozing. Even if I seem frustrated that you're awake because I'm not able to get my housework done. I secretly don't mind.

There is so much more I want to say about how I'm living with this illness every day and how I'll explain it all to you in the future, but this first installment of my letters to you both is just the beginning, just what is on my mind at this moment in time. How you both have made our family so much richer even in the midst of learning to cope with something as complicated and intense and draining as a mental illness. I am so incredibly thankful that your Daddy and I took the leap we did back in the fall of 2007 to start our family. I couldn't imagine us any other way now.

I love you both to the moon and back, and am loving watching you grow up more and more every day.

Try to slow down a little because it seems like it's going by just a smidge too fast. 'Kay?

Keep loving me back, even if we may have our tough days. The days when we yell at each other. The days when there may be tears. Because the good days far, far outweigh the bad ones. And they always will.

All my love and kisses,

Mommy

xoxoxo

I love the beach

Greetings from Ocean City, MD! We're enjoying an incredible long weekend with our friends in a sweet "overly-beachy" decorated condo on the beachside where we are soaking in as much sun and sand as possible with a preschooler, two toddlers and an infant in tow.

This morning my husband was kind enough to take over kid-duty beginning at 6:15am while I laced up my sneaks for a 45-minute walk/jog on the almost-deserted beach. My knee is killing me, but I pushed through the pain {probably doing more harm than good, but my ipod had such a fun mix on it that I didn't want to walk} and felt like I got a nice workout in taking the place of P90x since we're on vacation.

We each brought a dinner to share for a night so we could eat in for two nights and save money, while enjoying one night out on the town which we did tonight. Even though we had to wait an hour for a table in the air-conditioned dining room, it was worth it since the food was so good. For our meals in, I made a vegetarian lasagna with zucchini fresh from the farm, and a seasoned tofu and quinoa mixture for the cheese, which came out pretty well if I don't say so myself. Our friends brought fresh mahi mahi to batter and fry up tomorrow night and we're planning on making it early so that we can take the kids to the boardwalk in the evening and be home before they tucker out completely and melt down. Breakfast was split too; yesterday we made 7-grain pancakes and fruit for everyone and tomorrow our friends have an egg casserole on tap. Let's just say we haven't gone hungry this weekend. I'll definitely need to put in some extra workouts next week to help burn it all off.

Tomorrow is our last full day here and I'm already sad that it's winding down. Although I will say it's been like a little preview of our upcoming week in North Carolina with my mom's side of the family in August, and it's making me that much more excited for the trip despite the long drive we have in store for us. It's going to be the first time that we've done a huge family beach trip and as sad as it is that I only really see some of my cousins at weddings and funerals since we almost all have families now and it's so hard to travel, I have a feeling it will be the beginning of an annual tradition. That is, if we all survive the week together.

Sun, sand, a gorgeous mansion of a beach house with a deck pathway leading to the water for a solid week - it is going to be unreal. Especially because of the fact that all the grandparents are coming along so we'll have built-in babysitters whenever we need them. All the adult cousins and their kids are in one house and our parents and my grandma are in another house down the street. I can't even remember the last time I spent an entire week at the beach. It must have been when I was about 14 years old. The only reason we were able to afford this vacation was by planning it an entire year in advance. And we paid in a couple of installments which made it easier to manage.

Again, another reason the call from my old boss about returning to work part-time was a such a blessing. It is allowing us to take nice vacations like this weekend, our trip in August, and our upcoming trip in October for my highschool friend's wedding in California {just me and the hubby}.

For now, I'm just trying to take it all in and enjoy every single moment. The sand on my skin, the little bit of sunburn on my chest from swimming too long in the water today, and the smell of the ocean off our balcony. So grateful to be here in this moment.

Just Write: Making memories

Why is it that whenever we're on a family trip, I neglect to take the pictures I so desperately want to see when I get home and download my camera's memory card to my computer? The past six days we spent visiting the two sides of my husband's family. Despite the heaviness of fatigue that was pulling at my shoulders and making me ache to be in my bed sleeping off the travel, once the kids were in bed I rushed to my computer to dump my camera's contents out so that I could see what I had collected.

My heart sank when I realized that I forgot to get a picture of my father-in-law and his brother with his mom. I missed the chance to get a picture of my husband with his grandma. I barely got any photos of my mother-in-law with her grandkids. And there weren't any pictures of my husband's aunt or his cousins and their kids.

Being the pessimist I am {yet wish I could say the opposite} who always tends to look at the glass half empty, I couldn't help but wonder if that might have been our last visit with his grandma. It may have been our last chance to take pictures with her. Our last chance to see her sweet smile and hear her soft voice tell us stories about when she was a girl.

I'll never know, but I will hold tightly onto the memories of the time we spent together this past week. I will try to think less about the pictures we forgot to take and more about the time we spent together making memories that will last in our minds as long as we can hold onto them.

Just Write

Yesterday morning both kids were completely quiet on the monitor as I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes enough to drag myself out of bed. I took a quick peek at the screen to see my little man sound asleep in his bed, laying on his side towards the wall, and my baby girl silently tracing her cheek with the knotted corner of her super soft lovie blanket. I was excited at the chance to get her up and fed {if I was lucky} before her big brother woke up. He needed the extra sleep since he missed his naps over the weekend. I tip-toed into her room and peered over the rail at the front of her crib. She lay flat on her back, paci securely in her mouth, with her lovie tucked under her arm and its head in her chubby little grip. I smiled and said my usual "Good Morning, my love!" to which she replied with a happy grunt and a quick flip over onto her belly. She popped her bottom in the air and pretended to not want to be picked up.

I snuck out of her room as she was lying face down, and waited a few seconds for her to notice I was missing. She started to whine and I peeked my head into the doorway so she could see me. Instant smiles.

I picked up my little bundle who was zipped up in her sleep blanket, and placed her gently on her changing table. I asked her if she "had a good sleep?" as I normally do. The corners of her pouty mouth crept up slowly into a warm grin {paci still in her mouth} as she pointed to her chin and said, "Mama".

I had spent months watching her point to her head and say, "Dada" ~ her own unique way to use baby sign language to ask for her Daddy.

But today was my day. And I couldn't think of a more fitting day than the day after Mother's Day. I'll treasure that moment forever.

A Mother's Day memory

In the spring of 2008, my bulging mid-section was the giveaway that I was five months pregnant with my first child. We had just moved in to our first single-family home the month prior, and had excitedly invited our parents over for a Mother's Day brunch to celebrate. Mine were up visiting from Florida, and were staying with us for the weekend. My mom had brought her lapdog with her, a toy poodle she had called her baby ever since she brought him home when my brother and I were in high school. That Saturday night as she took the dog out for a walk before calling it a night, she accidentally left the front door open when it didn't catch the latch, and our cat slipped out of the house, undetected. In the morning, the house buzzed with the excitement of Mother's Day and the brunch that my husband and I were cooking for our moms. I was slicing fresh strawberries for yogurt parfaits, when I heard my husband ask if I had seen the cat lately. I hadn't, and we both thought it was strange since he was usually roaming around the house, stopping to rub his head against any shin he could find in the morning especially.

We immediately began searching the house for him. Calling his name and peeking under beds turned up nothing, and so we put two and two together and realized he must have gotten out the night before. The search party was on, as we began walking and then running through our new neighborhood to try to find our precious bundle of fur, our first baby.

 After half and hour of searching we still couldn't find him. I called my in-laws and asked them to come over earlier so that they could help us look for him. I was in tears as I raced up and down the streets in our little subdivision, while my husband shook a package of treats to try to lure him home. Another thirty minutes passed, and I started to really get scared. My husband said we should drive behind the neighborhood by the highway to see if he was out there. Dead probably, was my first thought. My poor baby!

He quickly drove us the five minutes to the busy freeway, but there was no sign of him, thank God. We rushed back home so that I could start calling the animal shelters in our area to see if anyone had turned him in. I was back outside, walking the sidewalk with my cell glued to my ear, trying to comprehend the questions the woman at the shelter was asking me. My eyes were scanning the perimeters around me for any sign of my white and orange tiger-like fur ball.

All of sudden I saw him. His white face and orange ears peeking out from beneath our backyard neighbor's deck.

"Riley!" I shouted, with no regard for the woman I was talking with at the shelter. "I found him! He's here!" A wave of relief swept over me, as I thanked her for her time and scooped him up in my arms at the same time.

His white fur was brown with dirt, damp from the humidity that was in the air. But he appeared to be in perfect shape, other than a little scared. Looked as if he had spent the night under the deck, so he hadn't wandered too far. Just wanted a taste of freedom, I guess.

That day is so vivid in my memory because I remember thinking, "so this is what it must feel like to lose a child in a crowded park or mall". My motherly instincts were so strong, even though I was not yet a mother myself. I wrapped my arms around my swollen belly that evening in bed and made a promise to protect my baby with all that I have, forever and ever.

Listen to Your Mother DC

Tomorrow is going to be an awesome day. First up, I'm getting up at the crack of dawn to run a 5k. Nothing like getting your workout done first thing in the morning, right? If I'm lucky the hubby will get the kids up and dressed in time to see me cross the finish line. This would be a huge accomplishment for him, considering they were not able to find the finish line at the last 5k I ran back in October, so instead he took them through the drive-thru of McDonald's for breakfast on the way home. Way to feed them a wholesome breakfast, hun! We all know how complicated it is for Dads to get their kids out of bed, fed and dressed (forget the tooth-brushing) before 8am. {This race is actually at the same location as the last one, but still, I'm not holding my breath.}

Next, it's home to shower and get ready to go to lunch with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law before heading over to the theater to see

Can't wait to see these incredible women speak! Maybe next year I'll have enough guts to audition to be part of the cast of LTYMDC 2013.

I hope so.