My Boys...

Sigh.

I just had the privilege of having lunch with my two littlest guys. They stopped by with Emmy to take me to lunch for my birthday. As I watched them pull up to our office my heart melted as Liam jumps out of the car carrying a bouquet of sunflowers. The color of the flowers was almost as brilliant as the big smile he wore. Almost. He ran to me and handed them to me along with two handmade cards that he and Sawyer had made AND picture frames that they each had painted (Emily had put recent pictures in the frames that she took this week). Both boys showered me with hugs and made me feel like the luckiest lady in the world. Beanie made a lunge for me then gave me a big, sweet hug. Emily informed me that it was Liam's idea to stop and pick up flowers along the way and he chose the sunflowers specifically. At age four, he has figured out that most females enjoy flowers--I KNEW he was brilliant! While we were eating lunch I was chatting with Emily and Liam turned to her and said "Emily could you please be quiet? I am trying to enjoy my special time with my Mommy." Both boys never fails to make me smile, or fail to melt my heart. :-)

Raising a perfectionist child

I have mentioned before that Liam is a perfectionist. He gets easily discouraged if he can't do something perfectly or to the high standard he has set for himself. His perfectionism is intensifying the older he gets Sitting down with him to do an art project has become a stressful experience...I watch him with dread, waiting for the inevitable tears when his drawing goes awry. It is heart wrenching to watch your child beat himself up over his perceived shortcomings. We have told Liam over and over that NO one is perfect and that everyone makes mistakes. This goes in one ear and out the other as quickly as he can crumble up his paper and throw it on the floor. The tricky thing with Liam is that he KNOWS when something does not look exactly like the picture in the book. Telling him that he did a great job only makes him angrier. "It is NOT the same! It does NOT look good! It IS different!!!" He does not miss a THING. Yesterday he asked me how to draw a sunflower...so I drew a more generic version of a flower anticipating that he too would want to draw it. This was NOT good enough. He said "Mommy! That is not a real sunflower! Do it the right way..." He misses nothing. I am waiting for the day when he flat out says "Stop patronizing me, woman!"

We continue to show him that we make mistakes, and that everything we have learned in our lives has taken time. No one knew how to ride a bike the first time they got on it--it takes time. Liam wants to master everything quickly. Any inability to achieve perfection he considers a failure. It breaks my heart to see him so hard on himself. I admit that I am very self critical...I would hate to see him go down the same road of beating himself up all the time for being less than perfect. Mom, i wasn't like that as a child, was I? I mean, I do remember the "I can't do anything right!! hammock/tent stitches incident...but other than that?

:-(

You Know It's a Bad Day When...

Today I received a call from Emily, our nanny. She was crying...actually more like sobbing. Apparently Liam threw a fit/tantrum/tirade that lasted two hours. Emily said she did everything that she could think of and nothing would make him stop so she called me in hopes that I could talk some sense into him. Normally unfazed by anything the children do--I'm sure calling me was the last thing she wanted to do...I felt so sorry for her and guilty that my child was causing so much stress. As soon as Liam got on the phone he started sobbing to me telling me he was sorry, and crying to Emily saying he was sorry for being naughty, etc. I asked him why he was acting that way and he said "I don't know!" and then started crying again. I finally got him to calm down but not before letting him know that I was VERY upset and disappointed that he acted that way and was sad he was making Miss Emily cry. Emily got back on the phone and I told her that Liam was going to lose A LOT of stickers off of his star chart, which is when she informed me that he shredded his star chart because he was so angry. This is when I start questioning myself and worrying/wondering "Is my kid normal? Is this typical behavior from a 4 year old boy? Is throwing a two hour fit over the loss of Goldfish crackers the standard preschooler M.O.???"

I was talking to my friend Tammy about it and she claims her 4 year old nephew is the same way. He is a very emotive child (much like Liam) and that he has similar outbursts. Luckily Liam averages one of these doozies once every few months but when they arrive...you just want to head to the nearest fallout shelter. I realize that Liam is a very emotional person (good and bad), much like me. When he is happy he is very, very happy and when he is sad he is very sad and when he is very, very mad about something...get out of the way.

After lunch he told Emily he would "shake off his fits during nap." Let us hope so...otherwise we might be looking for new childcare.

Hanging Out in Funk Town

Sigh. I'm having another one of "those" days...the blue, funk, feel like the worst mom in the world kind of days. I should start charting these kinds of days and see if they correspond with the phases of the moon, or the phases of my hormones. I can't really put my finger on anything specific, I just feel emotionally heavy (and physically too). NOT working out, aside from walking gingerly, is not helping my mood. I need my endorphins! Wahh!!!!

Yesterday when I got home from work I was informed that Liam ruined a perfectly good day right before I got home by kicking Miss Emily in the leg over some sort of misunderstanding. He then proceeded to cry and say that he missed his Mommy, etc. The majority of Liam's worst meltdowns occur towards the end of the afternoon. They always have. Emily said that he has been crying for me a lot lately--we are not sure if he is really missing me that badly or merely using it as a way to get attention or to gain sympathy. Emily thinks it is both. Last night Liam told me the story of "the little boy who was SO excited because it was a 'Mommy/Daddy day' (i.e. weekend) and he got to go with them to the store and pick out a toy and it was the best day EVER."

I struggle with the whole guilt of working and then finding/making quality time at home and if there is anything left over, a few minutes for myself. Ken has no problem getting out. Me? I struggle because I actually WANT/NEED to spend the time with my boys even when I am pooped. I see them so rarely during the week that I feel I need to get in as much time with them as possible. I was lamenting to Mary, a woman at work, this morning about how I feel guilty for not being home tonight (I have a baby shower for a coworker) especially after Liam's recent tirade on not seeing me enough. We were talking about why Mom's feel this way. Mary said she understood and said that "men are incapable of feeling guilt the way women do." And I think she is right. I have yet to meet a dad who ever felt guilty for taking time for themselves. Maybe it goes all the way back to Eve instigating getting kicked out of the Garden of Eden ( Adam: "Hey Eve! Thanks for making me eat that forbidden fruit and getting us banished from paradise. Since it was all YOUR fault I think you owe me and the rest of humanity for all of eternity." )

Yeah. Thanks A LOT Eve.

Your Daily Liamism

Me: "So what did you do today? Did you do anything fun?"

Liam: "Yes, we sure did have a lot of fun doing arts and craps today!!"


;-)

Liam in Love

Last night we had some friends over for dinner. They have two little girls, Elisabeth (aged 3.5) and Katie (aged 21 months), and another little rosebud on the way (due in 4 weeks). The last time they came over Liam became QUITE smitten with Elisabeth--so much so, in fact, that he has talked about her nearly weekly for the past few months. She is quite a little cutie--blonde curly hair, blue eyes, bright smile and loves to wear dresses almost as much as she loves to wrestle around on the floor. When asked who is his girlfriend, Sam or Elisabeth, he replied "Well why can't I have both??? Why do I have to choose??" I guess at age 4, he has a point.

When I told him yesterday that Elisabeth was coming over for dinner he asked if she was coming alone. I told him "No, her family will be with her." He answered "Well maybe she will be all dressed up and she'll wear a tutu!!!!" I said I doubted she would but who knows. I asked him if I should go and get flowers to put on the "kid's table" for dinner. He said, "Yes Mommy! Elisabeth would like that, you told me that girls like getting flowers..." (I was so shocked that he remembered me saying that. I mentioned it to him one time months ago.) When Elisabeth finally arrived he was so happy and wanted to show her every toy, game, etc. He would let her go first on every game and he became QUITE annoyed with his baby brother when he interrupted Elisabeth's construction of a train track. Later that night they were watching a movie and Liam wanted to sit RIGHT BESIDE her (and by beside I mean nearly on top of...) and was sad when her little sister sat next to him. He is definitely smitten.

PS-The above picture is from our cookie baking adventure.

ANTSY & AGITATED

It has been TWELVE days since I last ran (not that I m counting or anything) and I think I just might lose my mind. I hate, hate, hate, HATE not being able to run. HATE. IT. Running is my prozac, my therapy, my "special me time". Running makes me happy, makes me feel centered and balanced and overall makes me a better person. I think better, am more patient, and am gnerally more productive when I am running. Not being able to get out when the weather is nice is a slow torture. I become very possessive of my running--when I see other casual runners go out for a little run at lunch I get jealous and angry. I think, "Hmmpf! You don't even LOVE running! You have to MAKE yourself go out there for a few measly miles and then you complain about it! I LOVE to go out. I WANT to go out! I am willing to run for HOURS!! Why can't YOU be the one who is forced to not do anything and I"LL be the one who gets to run??!!!" It's not fair, wah wah wah!!!

Like I said, I am crazy for running (crazy is the key word here). I know I should be thankful that I am even able to run as much as I do and that in the grand scheme of things 4 to 6 weeks is not that long of a time. I think once I am able to at least get some cardio work in at the gym in the next week or so I will feel a bit better. I'm also toying with the idea of registering for a race this spring/summer just to give me some glimmer of hope to grab hold of. I just don't sit/rest well. At all.

I know you couldn't tell that about me...

Diagnosis: 4 to 6 weeks of me losing my mind...

I went to the sports doctor this morning. The good news: No breaks!! Initially he thought I had a fracture of the coccyx, but then after ordering more x-rays he thinks it is not a break. Good. It is just a bad tail bone bruise. In addition to that it turns out that the majority of my pain is not from the tail bone at all, but instead the sacrum, which is right above the tailbone. He says I sprained it (an SI sprain) which is what is causing my pain/sleeplessness. It is hard to get comfortable when that joint is injured. He said I can expect 4 to 6 weeks for it to heal (But I'm an accelerated healer! I forgot to bring this point up...). He said two weeks of being a big baby and not doing anything (luckily we have one week down!), so only one more week of rest with possible light walking. NOT any one hour -two hour long walks (it's like he thinks I'd overdo it or something?! Where's the trust Doc???). At around 3 to 4 weeks out I can start trying to add stuff back in although he said I'll probably be quite sore for some time. He gave me a script for a month's worth of Vicodin. I have just taken one and am waiting for it to kick in already. Hopefully it will allow me to sleep better.

Now we wait and hope I don't go completely bonkers from cardio/endorphin withdrawl. Lord have mercy on the souls of my family...

The House of Ills

Well, it is official. The bug has now bit every male in our house. Ken woke up this morning with the same yuck the boys have. The great thing about Ken is that when he gets sick, he does not complain but merely endures and keeps to himself. Being a nurturer by nature I tend to try and mother him but he really doesn't need it, nor does he necessarily want it. He just wants to suffer in silence. The younger versions, on the other hand, do NOT want to be left alone. They want to be held, carried around and entertained. All of which are not great options for my tailbone right now. Last night I was luckily able to get more sleep then I have (Liam slept and Beanie only had me up twice with his ills). The night before both boys tag teamed me all night with fevers, aches, and congestion. Liam appears to be doing better this morning and Beanie is at least not feverish. So that is good. Emily walked through the door this morning and she is getting it too... I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a great immune system, but I am thankful for it!

Tomorrow morning I see the sports therapist to check out my back. I know they can't do anything to fix it one way or the other, but they can tell me if it is fractured or just badly bruised, how long I can expect it to be a pain and more importantly, WHEN I will be able to start working out again. The pain I can deal with--it's the not running that is breaking my heart... :-(

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY!!!

Today is my wonderful husband's 40th birthday. As you can see from the pictures above, he is both a giant goofball and energetic guy--both of which made me fall for him in the first place. I have a feeling that 40 years from now there will pictures of him in the same poses, only with grey hair. Since his birthday snowboarding get away was ruined, and since last year's birthday was spent cleaning poop out of the vent in Liam's room and steam cleaning carpets (don't ask--really), I am hoping I can try and at least make today somewhat better. I just got a call from Emily informing me that Liam now has a fever, on top of his cough and congestion and only wants to lay around. :-( He was up a lot last night complaining that he couldn't breathe and asking me to "fix it". Sawyer woke up today with a new cough, which is how Liam's bug started. UGH. It certainly would be a novelty if things would turn out as we planned it...even once. But I guess that would make life boring, and predictable, wouldn't it?!

Liam the Artist

Liam has really taken to art, which pleases me greatly. In the past month his drawings have really blossomed into colorful and creative pieces. He has had me draw things as an example and then he will redraw them on his own...the latest being a dog face which he mastered quite well. As his aptitude for art increases, so does his frustration level if he can't do something "just right." He will crumble up his paper and throw it on the floor and put his head down and cry. It would seem my "tempermental artist gene" did not skip him, much to Ken's dismay. (Really honey, am I THAT bad? Wait--don't answer that...).

Yesterday as a special reward I took Liam to a paint your own pottery place because I thought he would really enjoy it. It is a really cute place in Old Town Arvada where you can pick out just about any kind of ceramic piece to paint and craft to your own liking. The place was totally booked so luckily I had reserved a table beforehand. Liam chose a dinner plate and I grabbed a mug to try and paint quickly while Liam worked on his piece. He had a blast and was so excited. I didn't know if he would grasp the concept of painting something colors that looked different on the ceramic but would turn out differently after it was fired, but he did. He told me "this looks pink now but it will be red later when it comes out of the oven." He colored his plate in a rainbow of colors and finished it off by giving it a giant smiling face. Then he excitedly yelled "I DID IT MOMMY!!!" and every single adult in the place turned and laughed out loud. He was definitely the hit of the place since he was the only person under the age of 38. Numerous older ladies kept coming up to him smiling and commenting on how beautiful his plate was. He was definitely in his element. I tried to hurry up and throw some paint on my mug and muttered "Well this looks bad but oh well!" That is when Liam stood up, rubbed my back and said "No it doesn't Mommy. You should never say things like that. It looks beautiful, you did a great job." It made me smile because this is what I tell him whenever he gets discouraged. Maybe he is listening to me after all?

So. Very. Tired.

It is Sunday night and I am pooped. I don't know if it is because my back is keeping me awake more at night or what...but it is kicking my behind. It has been three days since I whacked my tailbone and it still feels pretty sore. I have been taking Advil PMs at night to help me sleep and it definitely helps. I just want to wake up tomorrow feeling back to normal. Not being able to work out is NOT improving my sour mood either. Sigh. Why do I have to be so injury prone anyway?

O' Cruel, cruel Woild!

Ken & I are back from our mini-trip to the mountains. We went up Thursday morning and came back Friday. It was supposed to be a birthday celebration (Ken turns FORTY on Tuesday, the 10th!) as well as a nice little romantic get away. We have not been away together from the children since long before Sawyer was born (not to mention never had a honeymoon, etc.). So I thought it would be nice to take two days off, have Emily stay overnight with the boys, and Ken & I would go snowboarding all day Thursday, stay in a nice little condo in the mountains that night and then go snowshoeing on Friday. I had it all planned out: Thursday fun on the slopes, Thursday night a nice dinner with wine, & a hot tub afterwards and then Friday sleep in LATE then have a big breakfast and go snowshoeing. It sounded perfect...

The reality, however was different. Thursday started off as planned, except it ended up with me nearly fracturing my tailbone on the last run of the day. (Sidebar: I had only been snowboarding one other time years ago, and decided to take a lesson so I could spend more quality time up in the mountains with my husband.) I actually *really* like snowboarding--it is more intuitive for me then downhill skiing, which I dislike immensely. I took my lesson along with a friend from work and I was really starting to get it. I "put everything together" and was actually linking a few turns. I went down the hill one more time and the instructor started yelling "Lynn that was awesome!! You've got it! You've got..." and that is when I made my mistake. Snowboard: FAIL. I turned my head back over my shoulder to hear what he was saying and I totally blew it. My board went up in the air and I came down HARD directly on my tailbone. On very hard-packed snow. I knew instantly that I did something bad because the pain was intense. The instructor ran over along with an EMT who just happened to be standing nearby and mad and embarrassed I tried to tell them I was ok. Just really annoyed with myself. I hurt really badly but was too proud to tell them. I told the instructor I was tough and that I wanted to get up and try again. He said "I don't think that is a good idea Lynn" and I said "I'm ok, I want to try again" and that is when I started to pass out. I suddenly could not hear anyone and my vision blurred and my legs started shaking and giving out and they put me back on the snow. After it passed I said "You win, I won't try anymore today."

I was SOOOOOOO annoyed with myself. The instructor reassured me that I was doing great and told me that he had fractured his tail bone last year--that it happens even to professionals. Still, it put a major damper on the evening/weekend. I had a hard time walking back to meet up with Ken and our other friend but I didn't want anyone to know just how badly I hurt. I suffered through a happy hour and managed to shuffle back to the car. Ken said. "Are you really hurting that badly?" and I said "YES." We got checked into our lodging and all I wanted to do was find some way to get comfortable. I popped four ibuprofen and that helped enough that we were able to go grab a quick bite but I definitely was not going to be getting into any hot tub--it hurt to move in any direction. So long story short, no hot tub, no snowshoeing, no nice dinner, etc. We came back early on Friday and I went upstairs and slept for three hours. Today it seems to hurt worse for some reason--I know that it is going to take a long time to feel 100%. Aside from pain management there is really nothing you can do except wait it out. And everyone KNOWS how patient a patient I am...I am already going stir crazy not being able to work out.

The funny thing is that even though I wiped out and hurt myself I still REALLY want to get back up to the mountains and try again. I just don't know when that will be exactly...

Sweetness...(most of the time)

Mondays are always a bit rough going. If we can get out the door and get Liam to school without being more than 15 minutes late we are doing good. I have learned over the years that if I need to get Liam out the door at a certain time, I need to start a half hour in advance. Even when I do, we still end up late half the time. I constantly catch myself hurrying Liam along, urging him to "stop looking around" and to "pay attention and FOCUS!". Then I think about how wonderful it is that he IS so observant, how he doesn't miss any little detail on any plant, bird, or tree and how he takes the time to enjoy his surroundings. I think as adults we (figuratively) beat this out of children. We ourselves are so time starved, over-booked and perpetually late that we pass along our time anxiety vicariously.

Today I dropped Liam off at school (why yes, of COURSE we were late) and I took a second to talk to one of his teachers, Ms. Sue. I told her that we were working on Liam's volume control (he has one volume, and it is NOT quiet). She thanked me and said she was noticing improvement. She then pulled me aside and said "I have to tell you what a joy Liam is. He is such a sweet little boy." I said "Yes, he is definitely a lover" (when he is not hitting Sam with a stick). "He cares a lot about everyone!" (when they are NOT taking his toys). She then said "I just ADORE him, it is clear that he is a nurturing soul and has a sweet spirit. Sometimes I feel like I need to refocus his attention because he notices so much...it makes me smile because he reminds me of how my daughter was when she was little."

I thanked her and left school feeling happy. He IS a sweetheart most of the time and he DOES have a sweet spirit (most of the time). The older he gets the more I see just how caring he is (most of the time). Now if I could just figure out how to let him enjoy his surroundings without making us late every day...(most of the time)