Wittyd’s Weblog
Whatever crosses my mindWalking for boobies
I woke up at the butt crack of dawn this morning so that I could get myself together in order to make my way to Long Beach by 7:50 AM for a 12 mile training walk that will prepare me for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. Of course, my two year old woke up announcing, “The Sun is up mommy.” I tried to inform him that he was allowed to sleep passed the sun but he was having none of that. He demanded his morning chocolate milk and an animated Disney/Pixar adventure which I promptly made happen if I was ever to have peace and be able to get out the door. My husband was still snoring in the bedroom.
I hooked up my coffee I.V. and got myself half ready when I saw that it was 7 AM and needed to wake up my 8 month old baby and nurse him. The clock was ticking and I still hadn’t eaten anything. This was becoming a problem. Not eating a proper breakfast, that is.
My husband got up and as if he was telling me something I didn’t know, informed me that it was 7:20. At that very instant, my little guy unlatched, looked at his daddy and reached out for him…perfect timing. I passed him on and jumped out the door. Pedal to the metal, I got there in the nick of time.
12 miles and 3 1/2 hours later I was in agony and happy to see the finish line. In case, you may not know, the Avon Walk is 39 miles over 2 days….Yikes!!! I’m in trouble if I don’t step up my training. I am sitting on my sofa right now contemplating 2 Tylenol and a massage by a Swedish gent named Franz. Well, at least the Tylenol is a reality.
Wish me luck on this painful, yet wonderful journey a.k.a. Mitzvah.
If you are interested in more info on the walk go to www.avonwalk.org.
My father on the phone
I had an interesting conversation with my dad tonight. He actually seemed interested in what was going on with my kids. After explaining their minor ailments, I gave him the rundown on our evening due to his inquiry as to what my husband was doing. I said that he was giving Max (our 2 year old) a bath since I had just finished nursing and putting Noah (our 8 month old) down to sleep. After Max’s bath he would brush his teeth, read him a few stories and hopefully, he would get him to go to sleep before the 9 o’clock hour. Then I would go to bed as I am yawning the very words. My dad cut in and said, “Then Francisco will go to bed too.” I laughed. It was true. We were exhausted. Asleep by 10, no problem.
My dad then said something that was so true yet false at the same time…”A bit monotonous, eh?”
I realize that our days may be routine but they are never monotonous. Anyone with a 2 year old and an 8 month old will tell you that there is never a dull moment in the home. Max will be fine one moment and then freaking out the next and for no apparant reason. At least not one visible to us. He’ll start hitting us and kicking us and if we are really lucky, he’ll give us a good bite. All because he is tired. He might whine about something but we’ll never figure it out. He doesn’t really know either. He might see something on the buffet like a figurine from say, The Lion King and scream until we hand it to him and he’ll pretend that that whole display was about the figurine when in reality, he only just noticed that lion cub on his way to the time-out chair.
When all is finally quiet, I prep myself for bedtime with my own similar routine. Sometimes a shower, pajamas, brusha brusha brusha (reminiscent of the commercial in the movie Grease), a fresh glass of ice water on the night stand and then the final descent into my cozy bed. It is almost painful. I had been carrying so much stress in my lower back during the day, that laying down is actually initially painful.
Upon finally laying down, I will hit the DVR recordings and check out whatever I recorded that day and if it is Tuesday…WOOHOO!!! It’s my new favorite T.V. show, Wipeout!! I haven’t laughed that hard since……jeez, I don’t know. The thought of people’s bodies ending up in the positions they end up in in mid air is truly side splitting. And, the comments from the peanut gallery just kill me.
Then, I’m out cold…. till Noah’s first cries of hunger ring out……
So, yes dad, my evening may be routinous (new made up word) but never monotonous.
Let me introduce myself…Who am I again?
Who might I be? Is it wrong to still not know? I do know the facts though. I am a strong woman, one that will never be taken advantage of unless it is a matter of the heart. I seem to always give you one more chance even if I say that I won’t. I am one with no regrets…sort of. I am one with great wit. I am sarcastic. I am hilarious. I am a wife, a mother..twice, a sister who doesn’t really know hers, I am a daughter that tends to snap at her parents because they are no longer the people she remembers. I am a stay-at-home mom always looking for a way to work from home so that I can be with my kids.
I realized that when it comes down to it, all we really NEED is our health. Nothing else is fun without it. I see that truth in my father. He is 78. He has had a couple of strokes that have caused him to deteriorate over time. He can barely walk. He suffers from incontinence. He has lost the will to care. I think he may even be depressed. He doesn’t really interact with my children which breaks my heart. I get angry at him and then realize that I just have very unrealistic expectations of my father. My husband reminds me to be patient.
My husband is kind and full of fire. He is smart. He takes much better care of me than I do. He is a wonderful father that takes great care of our children. He loves to spend time with them more than anything. He surfs well. I am terrible at it. We spend a lot of time together. We are a beautiful family.
My older son is going to be 3 and he can be funny, smart, mean, sweet, sensitive, etc. etc. etc. He goes to a very loving daycare that teaches him wonderful socializational skills. His vocabulary is amazing and surprising. We considered keeping him at home with me but realized what a disservice it would be to take him away from such an educational and loving atmosphere. He loves his daddy so much. He is his little shadow.
My little baby boy will be 1 soon and he is the happiest baby I have ever seen. He laughs all the time. He never stops smiling. He loves his mama. He is growing by leaps and bounds.
With all of these aspects, do we ever really know who we are? I am not the person I was when I was in my 20s, teaching snowboarding in Mammoth. I am not the person I was 5 years ago when I married my husband. I am who I am right now. The person that is a wife, mother of 2, sister of a woman I barely know (I’ll touch on that another time.), daughter of aging parents, and so on. As each event occurs in our lives, we change who we are. We adapt. We think differently. We are somebody new every day.
Today I am a little bit new.
