In the Mind of Yours Truly, Part 1 of 3: Third Life Crisis?. . .Blog Day #17

I am not sure what is going with me lately. Well, ok, maybe I do know what is going on. I might be going through a third-life crisis. Or maybe I’m just on the other end of a refining period and feeling “shiny.” Maybe I’m feeling the excitement and newness of entering a new season in my life: autumn.

Maybe I’m just over-analyzing things and need to go to bed (it is 12:30am as I type).

But ignoring this last thought, let me explain. . .

Third-Life Crisis

As of the 27^th of April, I turned the ripe old age of 32 ½. I can’t really say I feel young, and I can’t really say I feel old. I can say, however, that I have been allowed to have my body back without fear that I will be gaining the 50 pounds needed to support and sustain a tiny little life. I am well on my way to pre-kids weight. And feeling awesome.

I’ve lost 20 pounds so far, nearing 25 total. My ego has been thoroughly enjoying the compliments and I have been thoroughly enjoying having some curves again. Despite late night blogging and Facebooking, I have had an abundant amount of energy and stamina to keep up with the kiddos plus run 11+ miles a week.  My core is stronger, making my back less sore, making my posture better and my confidence higher.

And with that confidence comes some of my old tastes and sense of fashion. I’m bored with my hair color, and want to celebrate summer by streaking it different colors. . .I look at the Hubbie’s motorcycle with longing and plan to start using it as my main mode of transportation when traveling alone. I want some of my old ear piercings back (just ears, I've never had anything else). . .I bought my first pair of real shorts in a long time. . .And since I am getting closer to my target weight, I’ve been thinking of a second tattoo (which was a reward I set a long time ago if I ever got skinny enough, but didn’t have any expectations of it actually happening.)

But I’m not sure that all those things come from personal tastes, or just me trying to be younger again. I have shared before that I felt like I lost my 20’s somewhere in the shuffle of having babies. Well, now I’m caught between feeling old (especially when I look at my never-to-be-flat-again belly and the appearance of cellulite and becoming enemies with gravity) and feeling young (“30 is the new 20").

I remember the feeling of being different in appearance, and totally getting away with it.  I liked expressing the fun side of my personality for all to see.  I liked being set apart, even admired. 

When you are busy being pregnant and nursing and dealing with toddlers, these fun feelings aren’t really there.  It is true that in the Bay Area, I was a little different.  Freak of nature would probably be a better description, based on the reactions to “No, I’m not the babysitter.” “Yes, they are all my kids.” “Oh, we home-school.”

I was definitely set apart. But, somehow, it wasn’t the same.

So am I just chasing youthful fancies and focusing too much on the external and not so much on the internal?

Am I, indeed, going through a third-life crisis?

I don’t know. I’ll let you know after the first hair-dying experiment. . .

*Note: The next two blog entries will be on my recent refining and on being in the Autumn of my life.

The First 30 Minutes of My Day Today, Blog Day #16

It is very early in the morning when Ethan wakes up.  He is his usual self.  Maybe a little more than his usual self. He starts off the morning by playing, very loudly, with Hank. After a couple of bangs on the wall, I get out of bed and tell him to get out.

So he does, giggling.

I tell him to go walk the dog.

No more giggling. He immediately changes to whimpering (I'm not exaggerating) and whining, "But I'm hungry."

Because of last night's skimpy dinner, I say he can have a bowl of cereal. "But hurry up."

So he pours himself some Trader Joe's Crisp Rice and goes to get the milk out of the fridge. Yes, with his very full bowl of Crisp Rice. And the milk hasn't been opened yet. He pulls it out of the refrigerator. To keep from dropping the heavy gallon of milk, he swings his other arm up. Yes, with the bowl of dry Crisp Rice. Needless to say, the Crisp Rice was now decorating my clean kitchen floor.

"Sorry, Mom."

While he's cleaning up, I notice my wallet is laying open on the kitchen counter. I go to investigate and to shut it.  I notice that the contents are damp and my wallet is sitting in a mini-puddle. Right next to my wallet is Charlotte's full-of-green-cleaner spray bottle she made at Daisies.

"Who sprayed this?" I am almost yelling.

Ethan's eyes grow big, giving away his guilt. I ask a question I already knew the answer to, "Did you spray this?"

"Yes."
"For crying out loud, Ethan, you got it all over my wallet and now it's going to smell like vinegar."

"Sorry, Mom."

I walk around the counter to get myself a drink of water, and I step on a few pieces of Crisp Rice. And see that Ethan is having trouble picking up the last handful. "Go get the vacuum."

He pours himself milk into his bowl. Now my feathers are ruffled.
"Go get the vacuum!" I say in a not-so-happy voice.

*whimper. He whines, "I don't know where it is."
"It's in the laundry room."

He walks down the hallway and passes the laundry room. While I am busy with Henry and serving him cereal, Ethan has wandered around the small hallway and forgets what he is doing.
"GO GET THE VACUUM!" I yell while I am walking in a threatening manner towards him.
"I don't know where it is!"
"Right here in the laundry room!" (We are both standing next to it.)

I leave him in there to take the vacuum to his mess. A minute later, I hear the Swifter Mop being sprayed, many times.
"What are you spraying?!"
"Nothing." And comes out with the vacuum.


I go to the laundry room, knowing that it wasn't "nothing." And sure enough, a puddle is under the Swifter.

"For crying out loud, Ethan, what were you thinking? This is not a toy!"

"Sorry, Mom."


He vacuums the mess. I grab a cleaning rag and sop up the other mess.


I am still in my pajamas and I haven't brushed my hair or my teeth yet. I don't have my contacts in so everything is fuzzy. I've only gotten 5 hours of sleep before Zoe came in to wake me up. I am not in a great mood at all. So I am practically storming down the hallway to the kitchen and step on a wet spot on the tile, right next to my brand new Rubbermaid mop that has a spray bottle attached for your cleaning solution.

"Did someone spray this?" I grumble.

Charlotte and Zoe say, "Yes, Ethan did."


By now, he has hastily vacuumed a part of his mess as well as any 7 year old can. He looks at me, once again, with big guilty eyes. He's wondering what I'm going to do. I give him that privileged look that only moms can give. "Get some paper towels and clean this up!"

"Yes, Mom. Sorry, Mom."


Finally, he sits down to eat his cereal. I vacuum the newly crushed wayward pieces of Crisp Rice. When he finishes, he starts playing around with Henry. Being the good mom I am, I remind him, "Go walk the dog NOW."


*whimper. He whines, "But it's cold outside."


*sigh

The Poor Neglected 4th Child, Blog Day #15

I think it must be hard to be the 4th in birth order. I notice that, as a mom, I get caught up in what the older three kids are doing. And I cater to the baby because. . .well, because he's the baby. Being somewhat caught in the middle, 4 year old Zoe sometimes gets pushed to the wayside.

As if being 4 isn't hard enough. You're not a big kid yet, but you're not a baby anymore either. You have to brush your own teeth, but you can't yet see yourself in the bathroom mirror. You have to wipe your own butt, but don't have the motor skills yet to maneuver the giant roll of toilet paper.

I have to say, though, that little Zoe can hold her own. Her personality, matching exactly that of her father's, gives her the extra oomph she needs to keep up with her siblings. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in her brightness and liveliness. She's bossy enough to take on any eldest child and funny enough to entertain an entire Thanksgiving gathering.

Her latest act is shaking her bootie. And she does it well. Whether it is to music, or her own chant "Bootie Bootie Bootie!", it's her favorite thing to do. And she knows it's funny.  And she knows it's cute. As she gets older, she adds her shoulders. It takes quite a bit of coordination to shake your rear while moving one shoulder at a time, and all this to the beat of the music. My personal favorite is when she is going through the different settings on the electronic keyboard and dancing to the different types of beats.

Not only is she funny, she has a strong sense of belonging.  Her preschool teacher has mentioned to me many times that, "Her family is the most important thing to her." She loves to be able to hang out with her siblings. Sometimes they take care of her and let her walk the dog with them. She has, so far, started at the youngest age to ride a bike with no training wheels because of the cheering and encouragement of her brother and sisters. I can't wait to see the older kids participate in her Kindergarten studies.

She is also very sweet. I love her little voice singing Amazing Grace. She has a great ear and nearly always sings in tune with her loud little voice. She has started narrating and working on her r's, s's', and l's. Her favorite words to practice with are "Trader Joe's". I was wrapping her little sandwiches in parchment paper and writing a little note on it. She wouldn't throw the wrappers away. So I wrote her a real note on a separate piece of paper and she loved it. When she feels special, she places importance on preserving what made her feel special. Her loyalty is so sweet.

I love her, and I think from now on I will be more purposeful in paying special attention to her. I will ignore my fatigue and burn-out and spend the 5 minutes reading a book to her. I will "clock out" late to sing her extra songs. I will take her on dates and include her in school.

Here are some favorite pictures of her:

Zoe, almost 3 at dress rehearsal for her first ballet recital

Grumpy Grumpy

Lovely, and in a good mood

She's usually this silly.

Neglected 4th child. This is where she was when we realized she was missing.

This pic explains itself.

Easter 2009

She fell asleep on my preggo belly after a long day of swimming.

Easter 2009

It's tough work, keeping up with everyone.

One of my favorite pics of her. Fall 2009

Little girl with her brothers. Fall 2010.

All the Rosendale kiddos. And check out that pose. Love her! Fall 2010.