My Foray into Single Parenting

On June 27th I started a job that was to last for 3-months.  On July 5th we found out that Thomas was going to be working in Hawaii for 80+ days.   Five days later he was gone and my adventure as a single, working mother began.  Unlike the majority of single mothers (I am assuming majority), I was able to hire someone to come to our home each day.  With a toddler and two preschoolers, financially it was probably pretty close to the same as sending them to daycare.  However, it certainly made my life much easier.  When Thomas and I worked the thing that I hated the most was waking up an obviously tired child to hurriedly feed, dress, and transport them to daycare.  Once there, they would frequently beg me not to leave them.  But, I did leave them.  Granted, most days they were excited to see their teachers and friends and it was an excellent program...  Hey!  I don't need to justify myself to you.  Let's just say it was nice having a babysitter they adored.  In fact, some days I found myself wishing they would beg me not to leave them.

Back on track: single parenting.  We dropped Thomas off at the airport on Sunday, July 11.  Jack and Anna understood what was happening.  We thought Kara did.  But, when I put her to bed that night, she asked, "Daddy tuck me in when he gets home?"  It was heartbreaking.  She asked for several days if she was going to see him.  And, got very sad when she would hear his voice.  She still cries for him occassionally, and sometimes, particularly when she's mad at me, she'll woefully say, "I miss my Daddy; he's never coming home <big sigh>."  Jack, I suspect, is angry at Thomas.  He'll spontaneously mention missing him, and if we do fill-in-the-blank stories, Jack always injects a Daddy plotline, but sometimes he refuses to talk to him on the phone.  Anna is always ready to have a conversation.  She has enjoyed checking the days off on a calendar and is secure in the knowledge that Daddy will be home before her birthday.

For me, it has been trying.  Someone said recently in a Sunday School class that having children taught them patience.  Having children taught me that I don't have a lot of patience.  Being a single, working parent taught me that I have no patience.  When I get home from work I really want to spend time with them, but I have trouble getting my mind to enjoy the moment and stop focusing on everything else I need to get done.  And, things that previously were only slight annoyances are now major irriations (like why they insist on playing with my deodarant? no matter where I put it they find it and move it).  But, lest this turn into a whining session, here are the things I like about going it alone: when I do watch t.v., no one questions my choices.  I can get away with not cooking (a real) dinner.  I don't feel (as) guilty about a messy house.  I can splay across the bed in whatever fashion I choose.   Hmm, that's all I can come up with.

Now, what I like the least.  Ummm, just kidding.  I don't even want to get into that.  Okay, actually I did get into that, but it was like six paragraphs long and I don't like how I sounded.  So, I've deleted all that and I'll sum it up with: a whole lot less free time.

For me this is temporary.  Thomas will be home, I'll stop working and life will return to "normal".  It hasn't been all bad.  It's been nice having two incomes. And, I did learn a lot.  I feel more grateful for the quality time I do have with my children.  This has also been a powerful reminder of what an obscenely outstanding husband and father Thomas is.  Finally, the support of my friends has been wonderful.  It is hard to be away from family.  I would never feel bad about calling up my sister and saying, "Kim, take these monsters; I just need an hour.  Please.  Help me."  But, it is harder to say that to friends.  So, it has been nice to have friends who invited us over and kept our weekends full and fun.  And for the friends currently staying with us that just take the kids outside or for an ice cream cone, without my even asking/begging.  Finally, thank goodness for reliable, good childcare.  Our amazing babysitter even went shopping with us in her off time.  How many people go it "alone" with that kind of support?

Thoughts on 9/11/01 on 9/11/11

My original idea for this post was to post my journal entry from 9/11/01 (or therabouts, I don't think I actually wrote on that Tuesday, I believe it was a few days later) and contrast that with thoughts based on 10 years of reflection.  Unfortunately, my journal is in the attic and I am not venturing up to get it.  So,  all I can do it write my reflections. 

On 9/11 I was in law school.  That morning, I ran into Thomas, my future husband.  He told me that a plane had just hit the World Trade Center.  I told him I didn't believe him, although I really did, because who would joke about that?  He took me down to the student lounge, where CNN was playing and dozens of students were gathered around.  I only had a few minutes to stand and watch before my next class.  I went upstairs and everyone was talking and confused.  The students who came out of the classroom had no idea what happened, and the students in the hallway filled them in and watched them run to find the nearest television. 

The professor (Rendleman) conducted class as normal.  One of the people in front of me had a laptop on, streaming the news.  That is how I watched the first (second to be hit) tower fall.  It was very surreal.  I had never heard of Osama Bin Laden, or Al Qaeda.  I doubt I could find Iraq on a map, and I had never heard the terms Sunni, Shiite or jihad.

After that class, I had a break in my schedule and I ran home to watch the news.  It was all starting to come together.  Earlier, it was mass confusion.  I remember one comentator saying, "I don't know if this is Y2K or what."  People just really couldn't fathom what was going on.   When the other planes went down, I was afraid it would just never end.  I thought there could be endless moments of plane crashes and subsequently, even more deaths.  I was almost scared to watch the news, afraid of what was going to happen next, but I couldn't turn away.

My afternoon professor wanted to hold class as usual.  He said if we didn't the terrorists won because their whole goal was to disrupt our lives.  But, it was apparent no one could concentrate and he let us out early.  Many of my classmates had friends and relatives in New York and Washington.  I am surprised we even went to class, but we were first years and didn't know better (I doubt the third years showed up).

For me, the worst thing was seeing people jumping from the buildings.  That footage gave me nightmares for months.  I would close my eyes and see them falling.  It was terrible.  I remember facts rolling in and learning about who was responsible and why.  I remember crying when I heard, "Where were you when the World Stopped Turning."  I remember a candlelight vigil and watching the news in every spare moment.  I remember feeling completely incredulous that this could happen here, in the United States, and bewilderment that there were people who could hate us that much.

I cried a lot.  I cried for the children who would grow up without a parent and the mothers and fathers who lost their daughters and sons.  I cried when I heard about the heroes of United 93 and wondered what it would have been like to be on that plane, knowing my death was imminent. 

It was a powerful time.  I also remember being proud to be an American.  Proud of the resolve of my country and proud of  the unity its citizens showed.  Finally, I remember beind touched by other countrys that offered their condolences and seemed genuinely saddened for us. 

Flashback: Kara the Biter

I am not sure what made me think of this yesterday, but I feel the need to memorialize Kara's biting stage.  Jack and Anna were not biters, so Kara's tendency caught me a bit by surprise.  Beginning around age one and continuing to about 2, Kara went through a biting stage.  Well, actually it was less biting and more bearing of teeth and lunging.  She particularly liked to do this to Jack and Anna.  I remember them rolling around on the floor, fighting over some toy and Kara screeching as she opened her mouth wide and attempted to bite Anna's back.  She often aimed for the back, which never worked and looked pretty funny to Thomas and me (model parents that we are).

But, my favorite biting story, and the one that came to mind yesterday, happened when she was in daycare in Tennessee.  She was around 16 months old and Thomas got a call at work.  We often got calls--Jack bumped his head, Anna scratched her finger, Kara skinned her knee.  It was a pretty regular occurrence.  This one was different.  This call was telling Thomas that Kara had bitten another child and left a significant mark on the child's arm.  They were careful to refer to the victim as "child"; no pronouns were used to protect the hapless child's identity.  As Thomas was pondering what to do with this information, he heard another phone in the office ring.  Shortly thereafter, one of his coworkers came into his office and plopped in the chair across from him. 

"Can you believe some kid bit Nate?  I wish they could control those kids.  Has the biter gotten to Kara?"

Thomas was quiet for a moment, and then had to reluctantly admit that Kara was The Biter.  I believe they shared an akward laugh.

I loved that story.  I could just picture the scene in the office with the phones ringing one after another after the careful use of language to protect all parties involved.  On a somewhat related note, I loved it when Jack and Anna got older and the teachers would report on pick-up that one of them had done something to another child.  The first time it happened, I asked their teacher who they hit, kicked, scratched, etc., not knowing that was protected information.  When the teachers said they couldn't tell me, Anna or Jack would happily announce, "I scratched Gracie," or "I pushed Abram."  The teachers would just shrug.

Kara has gotten over her biting phase.  Until recently, she would still threaten Jack or Anna "I'm going to bite you," but she (almost) never actually did.  I believe poor Nate was the only victim to have a significant mark.

Hurricane Irene

A few days before Hurricane Irene was scheduled to roll over Maryland, we had an earthquake.  I had just put Kara downstairs for a nap and Anna and Jack were in two different rooms.  So, the 4 of us were in 4 different places in the house.  When I realized what was going on, my sole thought was to get the children together.  I was worried that they were scared.  Mostly, I felt I needed us all together so I could protect them if protecting was needed.  I ran and ordered Jack and Anna to follow me downstairs.  But, they didn't immediately comply.   Jack thought his jumping on the bed had caused the house to shake and was trying to tell me there was nothing to worry about.  Anna was asking questions, "why do we need to go downstairs?  what's wrong?"  It seemed like forever, but was probably less than 20 seconds before they succumbed to my urgency and followed me to the basement.   So, what does this have to do with the hurricane?  Everything.  I realized that I can no longer physically handle all of my children.  When they were smaller, there were times where I literally picked them all up.  That is now impossible (at least for me).  In an emergency, I have to rely on their cooperation, which is frightening.  With Thomas out of town and the safety of our children resting squarely on my shoulders, I was a little more panicky about the hurricane than I think I otherwise would have been.   I grew up in Florida and I have prepped for many hurricanes over the years.  To me there was nothing particularly frightening about this particular storm, except now I had 3 kids relying on me.  So, I was not quite myself in the days leading up to the weekend.  Fortunately, by Friday, I was feeling prepared and ready.  A full pantry and a decent weather report (tropical storm versus hurricane) made all the difference. 

On Saturday, it started raining early.  We decided to get a pizza for lunch, that way we would have leftovers for dinner.   Here is Jack in the car on the way to get the pizza.  You can see that it is already raining outside (shortly after 11am).  I like this picture, because he spent the day wearing two of my ponytail holders on his ankles, and in this one had tucked one of their instruments in for safe keeping. 

 

Then, we decided to make cookies.  Pizza and cookies seemed like good hurricane food.  The kids love adding ingredients.  Kara loves tasting whatever she is adding, whether its chocolate chips or baking soda.  I also decided to skip naps, with the hopes that they would sleep through the storm in the evening.

After the cookies, we went outside and the kids played in the "windy storm".  There was no thunder or lightening, and they loved dancing in the rain (another unfortunate example of my bad picture taking skills).

Shortly after our walk in the rain, the power went out.  We had already gone downstairs and blown up our air mattresses.  Anna was so excited for our slumber party, that she insisted on changing into her pajamas. Even though it was barely 5 o'clock, she kept saying how tired she was and how we should probably just go to bed.  I managed to keep her entertained with some puzzles.

Back outside.  We set up our chairs and hung out on the porch for close to an hour. 

And, here is what we were looking at.  As you'll see below, not all the trees in this picture made it through the night.

The power actually came back on and we came inside around 8 to begin our slumber party.  The kids all wanted to sleep on the same mattress.  We watched a cartoon version of Puff the Magic Dragon (produced in 1978 and my kids LOVE it).  The power went out again and we decided it was time for bed.  Everyone wanted to sleep together, until Kara got annoyed at Jack and Anna and asked to sleep in her pack and play. I was planning on sleeping on one of the other air mattresses (we set up 3), but Jack and Anna wanted me to sleep with them, which meant I didn't sleep.  Anytime Anna woke up, she would poke me to make sure I was still there.  Jack would just ask, "are you there, Mommy."  I am not sure where they thought I would go.  It was actually very quiet in the basement.  Around 5, I moved to another air mattress, which did not go over very well.  So, I decided it was safe for us to go sleep upstairs.  They wanted to sleep in my room and I agreed to give it a try.
 

Once upstair, the fighting started again, this time over who was going to sleep where.  Jack wanted his head on my head.  I got poked in the eye a couple of times and finally reached my boiling point.  We were all tired.  At this point, there was enough light that I knew they wouldn't be scared, so I left them to go check on the outside of the house.  It was still raining and a bit windy, but I was glad to see there didn't appear to be any real damage.  We had had previous issuses with the fascia, so I was afraid that, the soffitts or the siding would be damaged.  When I came back inside, less than 5 minutes later, everyone was crying.  Amidst much protest, I put them all in their own beds. After lots more tears and frustration, everyone fell asleep.  I got up around 8:30, the kids slept until 9.  Here is a picture of the yard. There are two trees down.  Fortunately, neither one hit anything.

After breakfast, the kids and I went for a walk.  I was amazed at how saturated the ground was.  The yard felt very swampy.  We lost a lot of shingles and one tree.  We were glad to see that there was no real damage to any of our neighbors' houses.  I was thrilled when the power came back on Sunday around 4:30pm.   

It is now Monday, around noon.  There are still around 50,000 people in Southern Maryland without power, so we feel very fortunate.  The kids are ready for another slumber party and were very sad when I deflated the air mattresses. 

By the way, I do not fing blogger very user friendly, so please excuse odd picture/word placement, I am sure I missing something easy, but I can't quite figure out how to get things where I want them (and my lunch break is over).

Weekend in Review

The kiddos and I had a pretty good weekend. It started with Lily's birthday party on Friday. It was a little stressful trying to get everyone there after working in DC all day, but we made it. Lily is definitely among the kids' favorite friends, Jack especially was super-excited to celebrate her birthday. We had a blast at the sprayground. Jack enjoyed chasing Lily around, Kara loved the water. Anna enjoyed drinking lemonade from a can and arguing with the other children that it was indeed properly referred to as soda, "well, it's in a soda can, so I can call it soda." Jack also took it upon himself to try and keep one of the smaller children away from the street (despite the fact that she wasn't really anywhere near the street). It was actually very sweet, well to me, not so much to poor Frankie.

Saturday, we got went to the mall. Children's Place was having a jeans sale ($10). And, with the purchase of $50, you could save an additional 25%, bringing the price to $7.50! Until this point, I have always been at least one season ahead on clothes. That way I get everything on sale or clearance and there is no last minute scrambling when the weather turns. I was looking in their closets for the storage bins with the next size up when I realized Jack had next to nothing in his. Fortunately, this coincided with the e-mail notice of the jean sale.

Some might say I am crazy to venture to the mall with 3 small children (none of whom will willingly sit in a stroller) on the Saturday before back-to-school. To those I say--you are right! What was I thinking?!?!? Oh, that I love a bargain. So, I promised them the play area if they would let me look in one store. The kids are funny, they don't consider the stores in the mall to actually be part of the mall. Whenever we venture into a store they start begging to go back to the mall. Anyway, they were not good. They weren't bad either, they were just typical 2 and 3 year olds. I could only find 3 pairs of pants I liked, so I bought those and we went to the play area. My total was $31. While at the play area I was able to actually think and I realized that if I had picked out two more pairs of jeans, I would have gotten the 25% off and brought my total up only $7.00. Clearly I had made a mistake. So after they were done playing, I took them back to the store. I told the lady I wanted to return the items I bought and then repurchase them with some additional items. I will spare you the chaos that this caused as the line behind me grew. But, we got our pants. And, I let the kids each pick out something from the 0.99 bin. In the picture, Jack is wearing one of his new pairs of pants with the keychain he chose (Thomas always complains that I take terrible pictures, this one is also a slightly blurry example of that). Anna chose a necklace and Kara chose a giant ring. The ring looks like a ring pop, so she kept putting it in her mouth and trying to eat it. I think she believes she got a raw deal.

After the mall we went to Sam's Club. It was almost noon. I figured the samples would fill them up until we got home and could have lunch. When we got there I noticed that for once the food line was really short. So, I decided to just buy them lunch. Anna, Kara and I had pizza, Jack had a hotdog. We split two very large drinks. The total? $6.22. It was definitely a bargain day. Of course, immediately after we sat down, someone insisted they had to go to the bathroom. So, off we went, leaving our food on the table. A stranger was kind of enough to agree to make sure no one threw it out.

Wow, I thought I had nothing much to write about. I am going to have to speed this up. Sunday was church. I had bought the kids little magnet scene boards and pulled those out as a special surprise (the Ainas lent Jack one a couple of Sundays ago and it caused quite the ruckus because they all wanted to play with it). It worked like a charm for Anna and Kara. In fact, at one point Jack had to go to the bathroom and the girls actually wanted to stay in the meeting! I enjoyed Sunday school, and in Young Women's there was a great lesson on honesty. It made me remember the time I stole something as a child and the overwhelming guilt I felt. It also made me thankful, yet again, for a wonderful mother who always seemed to handle things in just the right way. I am glad I learned at an early age that crime doesn't pay.

Speaking of motherhood, we are reading Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother for book club this month (I'm hosting). I read it when it first came out and really enjoyed it. I found it thought-provoking and it made me question some of my own "lenient Western" style parenting ideas. Not that I would ever swing completely in Ms. Chua's direction (or ever close). But, I will be curious to hear what others think.

Oh, and as an update, the Super Nanny technique worked--Kara is staying in her room! Now, I need to find out if there is a method for keeping them in their beds and somewhat quiet at night.

Kara and Sleep Deprivation

Once upon a time our children happily went to bed. They did not fight or fuss. They accepted that it was bedtime, enjoyed their story and song and quietly drifted off to sleep. Sure, we had our trials with them as babies, but nothing overly difficult. Then, something happened. Perhaps with increasing self-awareness came the knowledge that bedtime was not fun. That something good could be happening in the living room while they were relegated to the dark corners of their (night-lit) bedrooms. Procrastination techniques crept into the routine. Arguments ensued over whose turn it was to say the family prayer, pick the book, sleep with the book, and use the bathroom first (arguing that it should NOT be them on the last one). The older two would somewhat listen to reason (translate: threats). But Kara, my sweet, sweet, Kara turned into a little bedtime demon.

Almost from birth, Kara would only wake up once in the night (contrasted with Jack and Anna who wanted to eat every 3 hours regardless of the sun’s position). Unfortunately, at the age of 2, she was still waking up once in the night. Sometimes she wanted to be covered, mostly she just wanted to know someone was there (and thus available at her every beck and call). At 2.5, she still cries out occasionally, but that is pretty well under control. But, getting her to bed—well, that’s another story. In fact, that is the story of this blog.

Last night, I had Book Club. I love going to Book Club. I enjoy the books we read and the company of the other ladies who read them. The added bonus yesterday was that someone else got to put the kids to bed. I got home around 9:20, hoping they would all be asleep. The babysitter said she thought they were and the house was certainly quiet. So, I did what any parent would do, I went in to see my sleeping darlings. However, the darlings were not all sleeping. The girls were awake. They were lying quietly and seemingly contentedly…until they saw me. Then, it happened. “I’m thirsty. I need my white blanket. I can’t find my library book. You didn’t hug me, etc.” I got out of there as fast as I could, promising them I would bring in a cup of water if they laid quietly for 10 minutes. The “10-minutes for some water” works with the older two. But, not Kara. I have yet to find what will work with Kara.

However, now I had a strategy. After speaking with my SuperNanny-watching-friend, I put the following plan into play: the first time Kara got up, I spoke with her quietly and led her back to her room. After that, it was no talking, just back to the room. Kara caught on pretty easily to what was happening and she quickly upped her game. The “Mama, Mama” cries became shrill shrieks. Around 10, I decided I wanted to go to bed. Kara was in the hallway, so I silently put her back in her bed, went in my room and closed the door. A few minutes later, her cries are clearly outside my door and her little hand is poking underneath. She is begging for a hug. I put her back in bed. She comes out again, this time pleading with me to “please hold me like a little baby, please Mama.” Keep in mind, all of this is done in a (very) loud cry. I put her back in bed. I decide to ignore her for a little while. So, she ups the anty: “Mama, I poopy Mama. Come change me. Please Mama, change me.” There is no poop; I put her back to bed. Then, it’s, “I have to tell you something.” I put her back to bed.

The whole thing lasted until about 1015, so not quite an hour from the time we started. I will continue the SuperNanny strategy tonight and see what happens. I have to admit that I was impressed with Kara’s ingenuity, particularly the poopy scam. And, it is hard for me to not give in and just hold her for a few minutes. But, I’ve done that and it doesn’t put her to sleep, it leads to more requests for time-draining moments. I am told at least once a week to enjoy them while they are young. I genuinely try to keep this in mind. However, I would really like to do it on a full night’s sleep.

Flashback: The Longest 6 Weeks of my Life

Early in our second year of law school, Thomas dragged me to a career presentation by the Navy JAG. I had never considered a career in the military. But, it was something Thomas had always been interested in doing. In fact, he had tried to enlist right after high school but a shoulder surgery kept him from being medically ready. Life took over and he played baseball for a few years, went to college, and then found himself at law school with me. On an unrelated note, if he had gotten into the Navy after high school he would have been in the nuclear program at the same time as my brother. The A-school for that was in Orlando, near where my family lived at the time, and we like to think that we would have met 5 years earlier. But, fate allowed our paths to cross in 2001 at W&L. However, that is not the topic of this Flashback Friday (on a Monday).

Back to the career presentation. I believe Thomas and I were engaged at the time. The presenters were husband and wife JAGs, alumni of W&L. They made it sound so fun: get in the courtroom right away, no billable hours, meaningful work serving your country. I was hooked. We both applied and were fortunate enough to get the job.

Fast forward to summer 2004. We have now graduated, taken the bar and are about to depart for the first step in our military pipeline: Officer Indoctrination School (OIS). OIS is a (greatly) watered down version of Office Candidate School (OCS). Unlike OCS, we have already been commissioned, so it is just a matter of checking the block and surviving for the 5 week period. Or was it 6? I can’t remember. Whatever it was, it was the longest time frame of my life. I remember telling Thomas, “if I am ever terminally ill, I am spending some time here because each day feels like a year.” There were some bootcamp like aspects: waking up at 0430, getting yelled at (a lot), doing push-ups (a lot), running to cadences, plugging holes in a simulated sinking ship, fighting fires, 5-minute showers, etc. But, none of that bothered me. I was in really good shape, I didn’t mind getting up early, and getting yelled at was surprisingly nonthreatening (probably because it was a group and not me individually).

No, what bothered me was the loss of individuality, not knowing people's first names and only being identified as "Wilson". I also had a hard time with the lack of time to process each event. Because you were constantly with people, there was very little time to just think. Perhaps that is the nature of the military--the unit trumps the individual. Anyway, it was tiring for me to always be around people. I was actually very fortunate, I was the only person there to have their own room. This happened because there were an odd number of girls and when asked who wanted to bunk alone, I was the first (only) person to jump up and say “me.” That was nice—I got a former enlisted shipmate to help me make one bed and then slept in the other one for the entire time, hiding a spare blanket in my locker. I passed every room inspection easily. I also enjoyed running the trail around the base. It was incredibly beautiful and I loved seeing the Forrestal and Saratoga (two old, retired aircraft carriers that are docked in Newport) and thinking of all the history. In other words, it could have been so much worse. I had it pretty good.

The worst thing that happened to me at OIS was during a drug test. Somehow we knew it was coming, so I filled up on water. Unfortunately, they took us in alphabetical order and I was literally crying because I had to go so bad. Not very military-like behavior and I did individually get yelled at for that. I think a kind nurse finally took pity and allowed me to go, I also went an additional 2 times before they finally got to the ‘W’s and even then, I had no trouble filling the bottle. Other than that, there was nothing traumatizing. I didn’t even mind the final event: Battlestations. You get to do everything you did over the 5 (or 6) week period over the course of 1 night. The point is to exhaust you and see if you can function. That was the easy stuff.

The difficult part was being told what to do every minute of the day. I hated being timed for eating. You literally stood behind your chair until every person was at the table. Then, you all sat down together and were given 5-minutes to eat and it was done in complete silence. And, you were only allowed to drink water (and juice with breakfast). Fortunately, a few weeks in we were allowed some freetime, but I still remember just feeling emotionally drained at the end of each day and realizing it wasn’t because of the physical rigors of OIS, it was the rigors of constant companionship and the inability to exert control over my circumstances. Thomas and I even talked about trying to resign our commissions. That was probably in the first week or two, before we got the routine down and realized, this too shall pass (plus, it really eased up after week 2. We still got up at 0430, but we could actually talk over a 20-minute timed lunch and on weekends we could even venture off-base).

Thomas had his first legal question while at OIS; his roommate, a dentist actually did try and resign his commission. He was told that he would have to pay the Navy back for his dental degree. He wanted to know if they could do that (answer: yes). We all survived. And, there were actually a fair number of people there who thought the whole thing was fun.

All in all, for me it was not fun. I learned how to salute; I learned some Navy history; and I still sing, “I could go to Iowa… like this, all the way to Iowa just like this” in my head when I get in a jogging groove. Looking back now, I can’t actually justify why I was so miserable. But, I hope I never experience anything like it again!