Is it worth it?

Recently, I was having a conversation with a friend who decided to never have children.  When I pressed her on the reason why, she replied "Because I have lots of friends who are moms.  And when they tell me about motherhood, it just seems really hard.  It just never sounded worth it to me."  My first reaction was to sugar coat it "Noooo, parenting is so great, it's not hard, it's rainbows and puppies and butterflies 24/7....." because what kind of person wants to complain about being a parent?  But I thought that honesty was the better policy......

Parenting IS hard.  It's a job....one that sucks out loud sometimes.  It's waking up to throw up in the crib and glancing down to see poop in the bathtub.  It's labor and delivery and epidurals and recovery and doctor bills.  It's little sleep and being a walking zombie.  It's not getting to show my husband any affection whatsoever until my toddler goes to bed (we're dealing with jealousy issues right now). It's toddler tantrums and messy vehicles.  It's getting off work and starting my second job.  It's walking through the door in the evening and fitting in mealtime and cleanup time and playtime and listening to the "Winnie the Pooh" movie on repeat until I think I'm going to scream.  It's magnets under the couch and bread crumbs in the bed.  It's curling my hair with a toddler clinging to my legs.  It's HARD.

But, unlike most jobs, it comes with built-in rewards.  It's walking in the door at the babysitter's house and hearing her yell "Mommy!!" and watching her run to me like I'm the single most important person in the world.  It's pride when she learns a new word.  It's sticky kisses and squeezing hugs.  It's singing Mickey in the car and laughing when she does.  It's watching her grow and learn every day and knowing that I'm helping her become the person she's learning to be.  It's forgetting about all of the terrible things because the great things make it all worth it in the end.  I'd take a million poops in the bathtub for a "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" and a kiss when I walk in the door.  Parenting isn't easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  I wish someone had opened my eyes to that in the beginning.  But.....I don't know that it would have mattered.  Because I'd do it all again in a second. 

Baby #2

I have an announcement to make, so listen really, really closely.......




I despise people that rush things.

There.  That's it.  My announcement.  Did I trick you? *mischievous giggle* Are you just here because you thought I was carrying another mini-Marty for the world to see?  Sorry to disappoint you guys.  Instead, I want to talk about exactly the opposite.

I hate it when people rush things in life.
When you start getting serious with your significant other, people are immediately like "When are you getting a ring??" 
When you get engaged...and I mean literally, the moment you get engaged, people are like "When's the wedding??"  "Not sure.  I just received a ring like 0.2 seconds ago."
Then, you get married and it doesn't take long for people to be like "When are you guys going to have a baby???" "I don't know.  In the meantime, we'll just practice :) (sorry mom.)." 
Finally, and my biggest pet peeve of all, before your little bundle of joy is even a year old, people are all "So, when's baby number two coming along??"

Here's the thing.  I realize that everyone has their own schedules.  Some couples want to be married for over 5 years before they even have the baby talk.  Some are ready for babies as soon as they get married (crazy kids).  Some people want one child.  Some people want multiple children spaced multiple years apart.  And then there's the people that barely let their babies stop being babies before they want another.  Lately, I've seen or heard people talking about having crazy baby fever and wanting a second baby before their first is even barely a year old.  Listen, if that's you, and I'm offending you right now, please accept my sincerest apologies.  I just don't understand it.  Avery, my one and only for the moment, turned 18 months old yesterday.  She's still a BABY to me.  She's my walking, talking, screaming, fighting, crying, smiling, giggling, pouting, learning daily, stubborn little baby.  Modern medicine and my pediatrician can call her a toddler if they like, but to me, she's still my baby.  She's still unsteady when she runs.  She still giggles when she learns something new.  She still curls up in a ball when she's still sleepy and when she wakes up in the morning.  She still sleeps like a baby (as in, not at all).  Yes, Avery is doing lots of toddler-ish things right now.  But she has SO many more milestones to hit before I want to think about bringing another little Gaddie into our household yet.  I would love it if my kid could eat normal food without pretending to choke.  I would love her to be potty trained (BIG one).  I would love if she could drink out of a straw by herself without spilling water all over herself (and me, and the floor, and Minnie Mouse).  I would love it if she would consistently sleep through the night (BIGGEST ONE OF ALL).  All of the things I still feel like Avery and I need to do before I even think about splitting my time with her and a sibling. 

Now, don't get me wrong.  I know plenty of people whose children are super close together and are incredibly awesome moms.  I just don't think I'd be one of them.  My child takes up 110% of my time right now.  I'm trying to be more involved in my community through Relay for Life, find a little more time to myself by crafting and trying to squeeze in time with my hubby every now and again.  Most of the time, simple things like cleaning house and doing laundry don't even fit into the schedule because I just am not a good homemaker/multi-tasker.  So the idea of having baby #2 right now (or even 9 months from now) sends me into a brown-paper-bag, full-blown panic attack zone.  Let me clarify something too.  Do I want more children?  Abso-freaking-lutely.  More than one more, if I can drug my husband into signing a contract that we can have more than two little Gaddies running around.  Do I want them to be spaced years apart?  Not exactly.  I'm not saying that I want to wait until Avery is in middle school before we have another baby (can you imagine how exhausting THAT would be??).  I'm just saying that I want maybe a year or two more to enjoy my baby now.  To watch her grow.  To watch her learn.  To know that I can devote all of my time to her without feeling guilty about needing to split my time with her brother or sister.  I'm not saying that there's a magic age or number of years your children should be spaced apart.  I'm just saying....quit trying to rush things people.  Enjoy your babies while they're still babies.  And let me enjoy mine.

Terrible Twos or Bratty Kid?

I've had a magic trick happen in my home.  One day, I had a happy baby that laughed often, snuggled with mommy and daddy, willingly gave kisses and hugs and was polite.  Then *poof*!  I wake up the next morning to a whiny, clingy, demanding little 17 month old.  Could this honestly be the dreaded "Terrible Twos" already?!?

What's happened to my sweet baby girl?  We are deep in the throes of Temper Tantrum Land.  Squealing or growling or just plain "pitching a fit" when she doesn't get her way.  Perfect example:  last night, we were driving home in my car.  Avery wanted to listen to her Mickey Mouse CD (isn't it funny how you know what they want without using any words?).  After a little while of listening, she was still grunting and growling at me, so I turned Mickey off.  When she threw a fit to listen to him again, I told her that if she wanted something she needed to say please.  Cue terrible tantrum.  Cue the pouty lip and the waving of fists.  Which made me insist: "Avery, we don't act like that to get what we want.  If you want to listen to Mickey, you have to say please."  You see, this line ALWAYS worked before.  Want a banana? to watch TV? to wear a bow in your hair?  You must say please.  And she would.  Until recently.  Now she'll throw a fit to get what she wants...saying please is an absolute thing of the past.  I would like to say that I don't give into those embarrassing temper tantrums, but sometimes you're caught in public when one comes on.  What do you do?  You leave your cart full of groceries in the aisle and walk back to your vehicle because your child just HAS to have that rubber ducky she spotted on the shelf?  Sometimes, it's just easier to give her the rubber ducky that will keep her entertained the rest of the time we're in the store.  I know that's not the best thing to do.  So sue me.  It's hard disciplining a 17 month old.  She doesn't fully understand everything I'm trying to tell her.  I say "We don't pull mommy's hair.  That's not a nice thing to do Avery."  Who knows what she's hearing?  Probably: pull mommy's hair! 

Let's move on to dinner time.  Eating out at a sit down restaurant is going to have to be retired for the time being.  Avery wants to throw her cup, throw her toys, throw her food, get out of the chair, pretend to choke because she thinks it's funny (yeah....that really happens).  I understand that she's still a baby, leaning towards being a toddler and that she isn't always going to sit still whenever we're in public or eat all her vegetables.  I'm not naive.  But I definitely don't want to be embarrassed any time Marty and I decide to go eat dinner at Cheddars. 

Then there's playing well with others.  To summarize:  it doesn't happen.  Well, let me specify.  Avery plays well with others at a neutral place (i.e. someone else's house).  When those playmates are on "her turf," don't even think about it.  A while back, there were a couple of Avery's friends over at her Gramma's house.  They played with Avery's toys at Gramma's house....and Avery wanted nothing to do with it.  Harper would play with Avery's kitchen...Avery would run over and play with her kitchen.  Delaney would pick up Avery's play vacuum....Avery suddenly wanted to vacuum.  Lots of growling and yelling took place that day.  How do you teach a child that's Avery's age how to share?  I can tell her that she needs to share her toys, but again...what does that mean to her?  I have been blessed to have an amazing family that watches Avery during the week, thus keeping her out of daycare.  Am I doing Avery a disservice by keeping her out of daycare and keeping her away from the chance to learn how to interact with other kids her age?  What's a mom to do??

Someone told me that this could be the result of lack of sleep.  Well, at 17 months old, Avery is still not consistently sleeping through the night.  We may have a week of sleeping through and then a week of being up every night crying it out.  Then she may sleep through two days and cry the next three.  She's also not getting regular naps.  She may go to my Granny's house and take a three hour nap around 11 one day and then go to my Aunt Pam's and sleep 30 minutes at 12 the next.  Without me being with her every single day, it's almost impossible to regulate her naptime schedule.  Could I just have a grumpy baby because she can't figure out a consistent sleeping pattern??

Now that I've ranted, let me explain.  Avery rarely ever acts this way with anyone else (unless all my babysitters are lying when they tell me "She was perfect today!").  It seems to be just when she's with me.  That makes me feel like crap.  And let me clarify something else:  I know I just talked about everything that Avery is doing to misbehave, but my child is no means a terror.  She's still enjoyable to be around (for the most part), ALWAYS says thank you whenever you hand her an item and is so much fun.  Everything I mentioned above is behavior that happens occasionally.  No, she doesn't throw a fit every time we go to Wal-Mart.  No, she doesn't embarrass me every single time we're at a restaurant.  No, she doesn't throw a temper tantrum every single time she doesn't get what she wants.  But these instances are becoming closer and closer together.  And I want to raise a well-behaved and polite child (for the most part...I understand kids aren't perfect). 

I'm a little worried about this new development in Avery's behavior.  I worry that it's my parenting or disciplining style that's made her that way.  Help??
(I leave you with Avery's best "gimme-what-I-want" pouty face, as given to her Gramma)

Are there any words?

I promise my posts will get happier again.  One day.  Until then, it just doesn't seem right to do a typical Hot Mess update with the events that transpired on Friday. 
I'm still in shock....how on Earth did this happen?  I don't even know if this post is going make sense because I have so many feelings since learning the news on Friday afternoon. 

Of course, like most of you, I am completely heartbroken.  Heartbroken for the children who were taken from this world far too early.  Heartbroken for their teachers who won't see those 20 smiling faces in class every single day.  Heartbroken, because I'm sure those teachers are feeling guilty that they couldn't save them.  Heartbroken for the parents.  For the classmates.  For the brothers.  The sisters.  The aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents.  Heartbroken that someone had that much hate in their heart to do something like this.  Heartbroken for school teachers and children and parents everywhere. 

The more details that come out, the angrier I become.  Children shot multiple times.  The Westboro Baptist Church (you know, the ones that love to protest military funerals) talking about plans to protest the funerals of the children--because our "wicked" country DESERVED for this to happen.  I don't even think I have words to talk about how furious that makes me.  Angry at the people that want to talk about their anti-gun/pro-gun stance in the wake of the deaths of these 26 people.  I do not care what your gun stance is right now.  These are innocent people that were murdered for absolutely no reason--let's talk about that.  I'm angry at the people that want to take this opportunity to blast the President.  Last time I checked, we were still America.  And we're an America that's hurting right now.....badly.  I could care less if you agree with Obama or voted for him.  He took the time to go to Connecticut to support those grieving families--and even shed a tear, as a father, over the little lives lost.  Go tell someone who cares who you voted for in November. 

Like everyone else, especially all the parents of America, I'm scared.  How do you trust that your child is going to be safe in school ever again?  As terrible as this sounds, we're "prepared" for this when kids enter high school age.  We expect that hormone-ridden teenagers are capable of doing something so terrible to their fellow classmates.  But elementary school children?  We think that school is where our children will be safe.  How can you explain to your child that school is a safe place for them to be?  My child isn't even of school age yet and I'm terrified for her.  My first reaction--beyond shock and sadness--was the thought of homeschooling Avery.  You want to tell people that it will never happen here, that it was an isolated event.  How do you know??  If it happened in a small Connecticut town, who's to say it can't happen in a small (fill in your state) town?  I feel robbed of my sense of security as a parent.  Where can I take my child that this isn't going to happen?  How can I keep her safe until she's an adult?  It all comes down to a simple answer:  I can't.  I can raise Avery with every precaution in the world and she's still going to make her own decisions and live in this horribly evil world.  I can't shelter her forever.  Should I deny her the right to go to school or in public and make friends because I'm terrified of something like this happening to her?  Should I keep her locked away in our home, not letting her experience any of the wonderful things that life has to offer--just because I'm scared?  I know the obvious answer, but it doesn't ease my anxiety or worry one bit.  All I can do is to raise Avery to be cautious of strangers and to listen to her teachers and caregivers in case something like this were to happen.  Then I leave the rest up to my Heavenly Father.  Can you imagine how God felt, knowing that His son was going to face a horrible death someday?  So, I turn to Him.  He's been here.  He's known grief and suffering.  He's known the loss of His child.  He's known death and tragedy.  As much as I want to shake my fists at Him and ask "WHY!!??," I trust that He has a bigger plan for all of us {"For I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD." *jeremiah 29:11"}--including the 20 babies that left this world on Friday.  All I can do is pray.  Pray for comfort for all of us, as a nation that has been completely rocked to the core after Friday's events.  Pray that He wraps His arms around the families and the friends of the victims {"He will cover you with His feathers and under His wings you will find refuge." *psalm 91:4}.  I pray that He provides them with comfort and peace {"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. *philippians 4:7}.  I pray that we all find comfort, knowing that those 20 children are playing in the streets of Heaven right now and listening to stories at Jesus' feet {"Let the children come to me.  Don't stop them!  For the kingdom of Heaven belongs to them." *matthew 19:14}. 

I know we've heard it all over and over--don't take this life for granted, hug the ones you love--but one of my favorite quotes sums up how I've felt since Friday:

"Love the people God gave you.

He's going to need them back some day."