The Whole Zen Thing

I am still trying to slow down on the multi-tasking thing. I can't stop making list after list after list. I've always been that way, but I am going overboard now in an attempt to meet two objectives: a) get all Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving; and b) to try to still my ever-chaotic mind.

I have been telling myself over and over, "Slow down. Stop hurrying. Relax. Take a deep breath. Just be. One thing at a time. One thing at a time."

And then, someone spills their milk on the floor and someone else is screaming bloody murder because I dared leave the room, I'm supposed to pay that bill today, the dirty laundry has left the hamper and is threatening to take over the house, someone is playing in the toilet, I forgot to turn off the stove, someone is holding onto my leg, the phone is ringing, I need to finish unloading the dishwasher, someone just threw a sippy cup in the trash, someone is eating glitter glue, someone is screaming that they don't want to put their shoes on, and someone has just stepped in the pile of food under someone's high chair and slid across the floor on an avocado.

Objective B can suck it. (You knew that would happen, didn't you?) Objective B is nothing more than an impossible dream for Moms of little ones. This is why coffee and wine were invented.

But, I can still pull off Objective A. I did it four years ago, when I was pregnant with Becca. Her due date was December 13. We were living in Alaska and I had ALL my Christmas shopping done and gifts wrapped and mailed by Thanksgiving. That RULED. I LOVED it. I wouldn't have survived that December otherwise.

I want to do it again. Although, this year it won't be waking up with a newborn every hour that will be killing me, it will be choir rehearsals, concerts, christmas parties and birthday parties, and handling all that shit in paragraph three (above). I want to be baking banana bread and taking a nap on December 23, not running around like a crazy person.

Since my New Year's Resolution of "getting control" went out the window on January 2, I feel like I can redeem the year this way.

(Maybe.)

A New Thought Process

I am always mulit-tasking. When I'm in line at the grocery store I am trying to figure out which errand should happen next. When I'm changing a diaper I am thinking about how I'm going to get both kids dressed in the most efficient way so I don't have to go up and down the stairs 12334576 times (that one never works.) When I'm driving, I am making phone calls. When I'm 5 minutes early for choir, I am writing out a grocery list. When the kids are in the bath, I'm wiping the bathroom counter. When I have 10 extra minutes before preschool pick-up I try to find a quick errand I need to complete. When I'm cleaning, I am meal planning. When I'm cooking, I'm thinking of what needs to be cleaned. When I'm doing laundry, I'm thinking about how I need to clean out the closets. When I'm watching TV at night, I'm trying to shop for Christmas gifts online.

God.

How annoying.

I know we women are great multi-taskers. We have twice as many connections between the two sides of our brain as men do. But it seems a great portion of my "tasking" is actually thinking about the next task. Or planning a way to make the next task more efficient. Not actually DOING anything. And, in the process, ruining the current thing I'm doing. Am I really accomplishing anything with the constant mental barrage?

Yesterday I wondered what it would be like to just....turn off that portion of my brain. Just BE. Not to always be thinking through the next step, the next errand, the next chore. When it is shower time, just take a shower. When it is time to grocery shop. Just do that. Don't be thinking about how I need to call the pediatrician. Or planning what to buy who for Christmas. Just do that later. Procrastinate my thoughts. Is this possible?

I'm giving it a whirl. Perhaps right before the holidays isn't the best time to try this out. Or maybe, just maybe, it is the perfect time.

Oh Halloween.....How I Love to Hate Thee

It is no secret that I've not traditionally been a big fan of Halloween. The spending money on costumes when I'd much rather spend it on clothes I could wear every day. The pressure of figuring out something to do. The dreaded question, "What are YOU going to be?" What am I going to be? Crap. I don't know. Why do I have to be something? What's wrong with being a well-groomed person in normal clothes? The hideous decorations......gross dead things. Why do people want dead rotting corpse-things on their lawns? I think I'm missing an important piece of the puzzle. The sickly candy everywhere. I mean, if people would start handing out Flamin' Hot Cheetos it might be a different story.

Lately, though, since having kids... I've been warming up to Halloween. The pumpkin carving, the kids' thrill over their costumes, the walking around trick or treating with a lovely adult beverage in hand, chatting with the neighbors. The Reeses's peanut butter cups.

We tried to carve a cat jack o'lantern from a too-detailed pattern, and ended up with a cat-like creature. Carving teeny whiskers out of a thick pumpkin turns out to be impossible. But, it is vaguely cat-ish. Right?

This year Andrew was a rooster (because he spent the last year waking us up all the time) and Becca wanted to be a pegasus. I think my eyeballs bugged out my head as I wracked my brain for how to turn her into a pegasus. Thank God for Ebay and Google, though. Because we found this contraption that makes it look like she is RIDING a pegasus/unicorn. Problem solved. She was going to dress as Aurora riding a pegasus/unicorn, but at the last minute opted for a too-short wedding dress. Turns out her Halloween costume was the Runaway Princess Bride.

So, Halloween. Well played. Not bad. Not bad.

Unless your child has a dread fear of masks, (or "maskes.") Then, you're pretty much screwed.

...And Here We Go Again

This Phase Again from Katie "The Yap" on Vimeo.

Here is Becca doing a similar thing at a similar age.

Schlep, Lick, Scream, Barf, Hug, Repeat

Thursday morning I got myself and the kids up at 3:45 a.m. and schlepped us all to the airport to go to Minnesota. Somehow a miracle occured and I was physically able to drag the following in to the airport: Myself, Andrew strapped on to my front, Becca walking, a stroller heaped with Andrew's infant car seat, Becca's high back booster, a purse, a giant carry-on diaper bag, a small princess backpack, three winter coats and a rolling suitcase. Don't try this at home. Trust me. If anyone so much as looked at me sideways, everything would fall apart. The stroller would tip over, the bag would be open and fall over, dumping everything out, Becca would have to go potty right then. And, I think I said this 346,268 times,"Don't put your mouth on anything! Stop licking that!" It was precarious, getting through security. But we made it. The hardest part was over.

The flight was fine. The flying part isn't the problem, especially because I spend what would normally be our airfare cost on new books, toys, crafts and snacks. I spare no expense when it comes to being trapped in a small space with two kids. And, naturally, Becca carries her antibacterial wipe as we get on the plane and we both spend a few minutes wiping every surface of our row before we settle in.

My mantra for the weekend was "Don't get sick until we get home. Don't get sick until we get home. We just have to make it through this weekend."

We were supposed to stay with our friends Carrie and Mark and their kids. But, as I was standing in line at the rental car counter, Carrie told me that her school-age daughter had a fever. I really appreciated her telling me about that ahead of time and honestly. We had really been looking forward to staying with them, but my brain got stuck in a loop that said this: "H1N1, H1N1, H1N1...."

....and I backed out. I really was disappointed that we couldn't stay with them, but I know my kids. And someone would end up in the ER. I also know myself. And I know I would have been too anxiety-ridden to handle it. And, unfortunately for them, her daughter does have what they think is H1N1 and STILL has a fever. I really hope it gets back to normal for them soon. Because it sounded not very fun over there.

This brings us to the part where I was trying to figure out a hotel, and driving to Aunt Linda and Uncle Phil's to use their computer. Here an iPhone would have come in really handy! I was desperately trying to get the kids fed and unloaded at the hotel before nap time. It was cold and raining. Carrie very graciously brought us soup and lent us her pack-n-play and other baby items. She also helped me check in. We never could have made it without her!

This story could go on and on. But, basically I spent a day or two dragging luggage and kids around until we worked out a new plan. Thankfully, many people rearranged their plans for us (Bonnie, Ralph, David, Tara--thank you!) and we were able to get settled at Bonnie's for the rest of the weekend. Whew!

Tara, David, Susan, Me

And....then I spent a few days just not sleeping. Andrew screamed for hours at night. I don't know why. One night found me and Andrew up playing at 2 a.m. and me and Becca up talking at 4 a.m. The kids woke up every day between 4:15 and 5:30 a.m. It was hideous. I was like a mom to a newborn again. One night Becca had a fever. One night Andrew had a fever. One morning Becca barfed a little in her bed and I thought we were in for it. But somehow, somehow another miracle occurred and the fevers went away and there were no more barfing incidents and we made it. We made it! Thank the baby Jesus.

The whole reason we went to Minnesota was to go to my Nana's 100th birthday party. There was tons of preparation going on over at Phil and Linda's house. They expected a huge crowd for the party. I really wanted to help, and did attempt to, but the kids did their thing and made it nearly impossible. Now, this was all happening in Minneapolis at the house where my mom and her siblings grew up. Nana now lives in Rochester with my Aunt Julie.

On the morning of the party, Julie called to say that Nana wouldn't be able to make the drive up for the party. She had a UTI and was oxygen-deprived and confused and not doing well. Much fluttering ensued. Should we cancel the giant party? We decided to continue on with the party. The momentum was rolling. There was no way we could contact everyone. Plus, it was also a family reunion of sorts. People coming in from everywhere. People I hadn't seen in 20 years. People who would enjoy seeing each other. So, the party went on.

My mom and her cousins in their traditional "on the stairs" photo

We lit 100 candles for Nana and sang happy birthday to her. It was beautiful. Of course, I came dragging in the door late, just as the singing was starting. I tossed the children on the floor and grabbed the video camera. Someone had Aunt Julie on skype so she could see what was going on. It was sad that Nana wasn't there. But, it was also happy that so many people love her and showed up to wish her a happy birthday!

Birthday Candles

The kids held up during the party. We stayed as long as we possibly could, and for the first time, I had to miss the singing and piano playing that always finishes off our family gatherings, because this happened:

Andrew at the party

Note to Andrew: this is what happens when you DO NOT SLEEP at night! Later on, Susan, my cousin Hannah, my mom and David and Tara stopped by. We drank some high-quality Bonnie and Ralph wine (the kind I can't afford, but wish I could! Maybe if I bought fewer airplane toys!?) and stayed up too late.

The following day, we packed up the car and the kids' stuff and went down to Rochester to see Nana, Aunt Julie and Uncle Dave. We had to pull over three times while Hannah barfed. Thank the baby Jesus she was in my mom's rental car and not mine. I was just trying to remain calm, saying "We won't get sick until we get home. We won't get sick until we get home."

Four Generations--from 1 to 100.

Once we arrived at Julie's, she took us over to see the goats and chickens that she takes care of a at a nearby farm. The kids were in heaven. It was great! Nana looked like herself, but a little weaker and definitely confused. As soon as we told her she could have some chocolate, I saw a bright glimmer of the old Nana in her eyes. Then, quick naps, packed the car up and drove back up to Minneapolis.

Julie and her babies

Got up at 4 a.m. and did the whole schlepping, "don't lick that, come back here, stop that", antibacterial wipes, stroller-falling over, desperate mad rush back home before naptime-thing. Then, ran out to choir until late last night.Finally, today we are just home. Nowhere to be. And I would like to submit a request to Andrew that he stop waking up and crying/screaming all night. I would also like to submit a request to my brain to ignore the amount of fast food consumed in the last four days. I will not be doing much today. Naps in three hours. I hope.

Never Too Lazy to Procrastinate

I tried a new technique this time for trip packing. I only started the day before. Which, is a huge improvement from my usual week before prep start time. So far it is going well....if you count the house looking like Nagasaki as going well. I do, of course.

We're going to Minnesota this weekend to celebrate the 100th birthday of my Nana. Nearly everyone in the family will be there except for one cousin, my husband and my dad. Otherwise, it will be a big gaggle of relatives. We are looking forward to it. (Well, except for the part about getting up at 4 a.m. tomorrow. But other than that, we're looking forward to it.)

If only I didn't have to pack. Actually, the packing isn't bad. The part that is bad is the obsessing over whether I got everything. And all the little shit you have to remember--like to pay the bills, and to stop the mail and to pack some earrings, and the white noise machine, and all the chargers and electronic crap and cameras and memory cards and card readers and battery chargers and tights and confirmation numbers and where is the little strap for that one shoe?

So, instead of doing that.... Here I am! Proving I'm not lazy! Because would a lazy person blog right before a pre-dawn trip? Would a lazy person stress out about making sure to pay the bills and pack the battery chargers and thermometers and Benadryl!? Would a lazy person completely isolate each category of items in her carry-on in separate ziploc bags? No! So. Yea. I'm just laid back. Not lazy. Except I'm sorta not laid back right now either. Hmm.

Travel: Bringing Out the Worst In You Since 800 B.C.

In more trip prep news, we set Lila the Toad free tonight. Because, frankly, toads are shitty pets. They just bury themselves all day. Then they emerge at night to sit still for hours on end. So, Becca picked her up and put her on the grass tonight before bed. She patted her and said with a dreamy sigh, "I'm so happy she's free." I cleaned out the terrarium and put it out of sight. And that was that.

Laid Back? or Lazy?

It has just dawned on me that I think I've let myself go. Not in the usual way. Well, maybe a little in the usual way. I do often have baby slime on my shirts. And I go way too long without having my eyebrows waxed. And my clothing is all a few years out of date and I eat too many chicken nuggets and french fries. And sometimes (okay, often) I go out in public looking like a drowned rat. But, mostly I've let myself go in another way.

A big part of me has died. The part that was on top of things and uptight and anal. I am really no longer anal at all (unless you count the germaphobe stuff, which I don't because that is just common sense, really.)

I have become....I'm scared to say this....but I think I have become.... laid back.

I know. Take a minute to let that sink in.

I would take a picture of what is going on around me, but I can't find the camera. And, even if I did take a picture, I'm too lazy to upload it. Trust me when I tell you that I am in the middle of a swirling dervish. I just can't continue to care about certain things when they are so unattainable. Things like returning library books on time. Keeping track of where the bills are. Filing papers. Folding laundry. Wiping giant chocolate fingerprints off cabinets and walls. Sweeping up stepped-on Goldfish crackers. Planning anything in advance.

Or, I can be on top of it for a few days. And all is well. But soon everything descends back into chaos. It still annoys me, but I'm not uptight enough to do anything about it. I don't worry about small things as much as I used to. I just can't. Actually, I can't really worry about the big stuff anymore either (except illnesses. We don't want to talk about how much time I spend worrying about that.)

Things that would have driven me mad a few years ago just sort of roll-off my back now. I do a lot of shrugging and saying "whatever." Who is this person who has invaded my body? Do I like her? I'm not sure.