Monthly Archives: February 2011

{milestones} Calli signing and sitting

I am pretty darn sure Calli signed milk for the first time this morning. I was changing her diaper and she was fussing just a little bit. I told her, “I know you want milk. We will nurse right after we finish putting this diaper on you. She looked up at me gave me a look like, “You know you wanna…” and put her hand up and squeezed it. It was funny and appropriate and wheedling. When I finished and I started to lay down next to her she grabbed at me with both hands and started trying for a sit up with a wide open mouth lurching towards my breast. She absolutely knew what was going on.

And then she proved that on our couch (it has that ‘someone sits in exactly THIS SPOT’ lean) she can go from laying down to sitting with one lurch.

I remember Shanna hitting big milestone batches right around specific ‘ages’ too. 🙂 Today Callidora is six months old. Hard to believe she is this old already.

I was recently sent an email asking me to post more about my kids

That’s a good reason to post! I can do that. It may not be too long because typing is hard at this angle. I do want some kind of documentation of the fact that after about two weeks of really hard, nearly nightmarish behavior from Shanna she has leveled up in terms of manners and interpersonal behavior. When she wants something from Calli she has said, “This is not my favorite! Calli, will you please share?” Then she waited till Calli dropped it and reached for a new toy. When asking for something from us she spontaneously says please way more often. It’s amazing. Yay! However the difficult behavior isn’t going away. Man are her emotions SO BIG right now. Her sandwich being cut wrong can result in a puddle of sobbing on the floor. I spend a lot of time sighing and asking her how I can be supportive. This will pass too. 🙂

smks: evolving manipulation

Shanna came toward me trying to get at my pizza sitting next to me. I picked it up and moved it out of reach. Then she said: “Oh mommy I love pizza. Daddy let me share his pizza. Oh Daddy is so nice! Thank you! Thank you, Daddy! I love you soooo much. You are so kind. Hey Mom, can I finish the movie now?”

Yeah. There was follow up in my direction. Awesome. 🙂

It just keeps getting better.

So yesterday was shit and today started out with heavy emotional processing. Today has also been shitty.

Weevil infestation in the pantry. So far I’ve thrown away 20 lbs of flour. Haven’t finished that clean up.
Ant infestation in the bathroom (it’s raining) with swarming because I left Shanna’s shirt on the floor and it was covered in yogurt.
Calli is teething and just can’t be made happy.
I had to let Shanna down and not make cookies today because of before mentioned weevils.
I can’t find Calli’s birth certificate anywhere even though I have picked it up already. So I’m going to have to go up to Oakland today and get a new copy.
Today or tomorrow I need to get some sort of letter/verification from a health care provider so that I can prove Calli is an honest-to-goodness person so that I can order her Social Security card.
Once I have the SSN and birth certificate I need to obtain a passport for her. We have less than four months till we leave the country and I may end up having to pay for expediting at this rate.
The information for the Mexico trip seems to have been lost in the mail. No one seems to have any idea what to do next.
I finally got all the information to finish making the reservation for the guy who is renting my DVC points and now he is pissy because they misspelled his wife’s last name. *sigh* THIS IS EASY TO FIX STOP CALLING ME HYSTERICALLY!!!

It isn’t noon yet and I want to declare today over and go to bed and cry.

smks: rule bending

Shanna was making up a story about how she lost her toy necklace. Then she got to the part where she said she put it in the box with the new necklace up on my dresser. I glared at her a little (playfully) and said, “You got something off my dresser?” You could see her eyes go off to the side and she said, “Uhhh… no, never…I think that the necklace got put in the box in some way that meant I didn’t take it off the dresser. (big perk up) And that’s ok!”

I miss Traci

So I’ve been seeing this woman (that sounds more interesting than it is) occasionally since the first miscarriage. She’s not a bad therapist, but she has a strong focus on EMDR and some weird thing where you pinch the bridge of your nose and tap on your third eye. Not so into the talk therapy part. I feel like the EMDR worked pretty well for me when it came to things like Francesca’s death, and losing my baby, and Traci’s death. Those were fresh and new hurts that were pretty easy to isolate and treat. But right now it’s just not working for me. The last time I saw her she had to ask me, “And who is Noah again?” If you don’t even know who Noah is then you know nothing about me. I’ve been seeing her periodically for over a year and she doesn’t know my husband’s name?

I don’t really have anyone to talk to about the super hard stuff right now. I have Noah, who has nothing more to give. And I have Sarah, who is also really at max capacity. I just can’t unload on them anymore than I already am. I don’t have a space where I can talk about my Byzantine feelings about my children and myself and my future and my family. (Noah’s not really on that list because other than occasional minor irritations he’s just not any kind of problem.) I miss Traci. I hate that I feel so bad for how much I miss her. It wasn’t exactly a ‘friendship’. But she did care about me. I saw her basically every week and some periods more than once a week for over 3 years. She knew every single terrible, horrible, disgusting thing about me and she never blinked. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a person on the planet who knows as much about me as Traci did, not even Noah. It feels kind of pathetic to say that.

I feel very alone and very lonely. And I feel like no one sees me. I miss Traci. The new therapist emailed me today to check up on me. The last time I went in to see her I really really needed to talk and she shut me down to follow her EMDR script and I felt so upset. I’m sorry, visualizing myself as a little girl and giving myself a hug is not going to solve all of my problems. She seemed very aware that I left the session more upset than I arrived. I should respond to her but I don’t know what to say.

Failure and growing up

I think that the best thing I have gotten from Noah (other than a cushy life and two of the best kids on the planet, of course) is a willingness to fail. I have recently jumped off a lot of cliffs in terms of trying things I’m not good at. I’m cooking from scratch with whatever random ingredients I have around and I’m adding spices and things turn out ok or awesome. When something sucks I think, “Ok… this didn’t quite work. Why not?” Instead of, “I’m so stupid and pathetic. I should never have tried this. I obviously failed because *I* am a failure.” It sounds kind of melodramatic when I phrase it that way but that’s been my internal dialogue for most of my life. I’m not doing that–I want to say any more but that’s not quite true–as much as I used to. Now when something fails I look at it as an opportunity to learn more about the process and what I should do next time. I keep trying until I figure it out and I have fewer temper tantrums. Far, far fewer temper tantrums. I feel kind of embarrassed admitting out loud how often I have had temper tantrums through my adulthood when I fail at doing something. But that’s just kind of naturally scaling back. And part of it is just that I’m getting older and lowering my standards, but mostly it is that I am just plain more ok with failing being part of learning.

And that’s because of Noah. I don’t know what I did right in my past lives to deserve him, but please God I hope I never fuck this up.

Sleep deprivation

Calli woke up at 3:30 for a diaper change. That woke Shanna up. Shanna wouldn’t chill out and let Calli go back to sleep. So I’m up for the day and fiercely cranky about it. Especially because both children are now asleep on top of me after ensuring I’ll get no more rest.

Bitter. That’s how I feel.