it was the ultimate test

last night. Within hours of writing that last post, I had to do everything I'd just written about. And right before bed, I felt like I should read the Bible, but I didn't. I did crossword puzzles instead.

At 2 in the morning, Emmett woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, demanding to play. He was completely hysterical, kicking and shaking and unable to stop crying. Mike couldn't do anything, so I got up and got in bed with him and hugged him and whispered to him and tried as hard as I could to go through it with him, realizing of course, that he wasn't crying because he wanted to play exactly, but that that's what he felt. And I sat up with him for about an hour and a half talking. i made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich and slept in his bed with him (very uncomfortable for both of us). And when I told him I loved him, he very distinctly (through sobs) said "I love you too".

And I think I would have gotten an A+ on this test if it hadn't been for the second wake up at 4:30 in the morning. He woke me up, told me he couldn't sleep, and asked me if he still couldn't sleep could he go downstairs and play and I was calm and said no. It was when the baby started crying to nurse that I got a little upset. Mike came in and I said "I've been up for 4 hours (not true, it was only 2 and a half). I am so tired. I just want to sleep!" and i got up and went into my room and nursed. Emmett went to sleep in his old room in his old crib and woke up just a second ago, sleeping a little under 8 hours.

I just talked to one of the moms I know who mnade me feel like what I did was the right thing (thank you r.). She talked to me for about 30 minutes. I'm so fearful of the problems. I want so much to be a good mom.

It's easy to forget

the loving side of being a parent when you're all caught up in an obsessive need to clean and organize and keep things going for everyone and you're trying to run a tight ship and make sure your kids are behaving and that you're disciplining enough when it's something you totally hate doing. And I admit all of you here and now, that I have been failing in this way and something monumental happened over this weekend.

Backup for a second and let me tell you that there have been some markers in Emmett that things are not okay. He's all bottled up and it's taken me two months to see it. It's also taken me two months to realize that my behavior towards Emmett has changed since we brought Ethan home. All of the loving babying that I've given to Emmett was replaced by responsibility. Suddenly I expect Emmett to act older and to do things by himself. I've been expecting him to make choices and to plan things. The age difference between my boys has skewed my understanding of Emmett as a 4 year old.

A mom and her daughter came over for a playdate this week and the mother told me, while trying to get her reluctant daughter to get ready to go, that although she wanted her daughter to obey her, she wanted teach her to question authority when she grew up. And I kept thinking about this.

And I realized that I am teaching Emmett not to question authority. I realized that Emmett is very obediant and when he's not, I discipline him, and I kept thinking about it. And then my friend Laura sent over a list of cute things her son Nicco was doing, and when I had a playdate with her, she asked me about some of the cute things Emmett was doing and I realized, I didn't know. I've become an instructor and have lost the part of me that delights in Emmett's cuteness. So, I called my mom and talked to her about these things. She reminded me of something I know but forgot: Emmett is very, very sensitive. He doesn't like yelling and cannot handle anyone being mad at him. She said that while he was there, he prayed to God that Mike and I would stop fighting.

I was stunned. Mike and I don't fight very much anymore, but it put up all kinds of red lights in me. That something is wrong. Emmett is praying about anger, and I became frantically worried.

When he came home, I sat him down and told Emmett that I wanted to have a serious talk with him. I asked him if he thought I loved him and he said no. I asked him if he thought daddy loved him and he said no. I asked him who he thought I loved and he said Colin and Jessica. So I talked to him asking him lots of questions for about 45 minutes and told him how much I did love him and that if Mike and I were ever arguing in front of him and he couldn't stand it, to take a certain blanket (I showed him which one) and to just throw it into the room, and that we would stop. We had a wonderful night that was full of tickling and laughing and Emmett was the most relaxed I'd seen him in a long time. I knew Emmett felt loved and I realized how complicated children are and that it's my job to figure out that complication and communicate safety and UNCONDITIONAL love in whatever way he can understand it.

And readers and future self, I have felt victory and like there is a light at the end of this dark transition. I am protective of Emmett and know he would not want me to write the details of what happened, but there were three incidents where I reacted to something with love instead of expectation and I REMEMBERED that my role as a mother is FIRST TO LOVE. Instead of trying to correct Emmett, I have been going through things with him. Rather than trying to get us through the transition, I am trying to go through it with him and putting sympathy, empathy and love before anything else. I have an incredible, amazing, talented, obedient and very caring little boy and I must reward his natural desire for acceptance with a lavish of unconditional love. And my heart is heavy and my eyes are all watery as I think about the trust that I'm starting to rebuild with him -- saddened at the word rebuild in this sentence. I continue to fail, but thank God for the people around me because with them, with Mike and with God, I think it will turn out okay.

I deleted my last post because it embarrassed Emmett. I found out he didn't want to wear the sticker to school and that he didn't like wearing it when he got his haircut. He is a private, sensitive person and I need to begin respecting that...even on this blog.

I've got 50 things to do, but I'll get back to you...

A line from one of the songs on the first record my sister and I ever bought when we suddenly figured out that we were allowed to listen to rock and roll. I was in 8th grade and the album was Eat Your Paisley by the Dead Milkmen. And we knew nothing about music or even punk rock music. We just that the cover looked funny. It was $6.99 on sale, and Audrey and I listened to that album forever. To this day, I think I know almost every word to every song. My parents had NO idea of the radical switch from Amy Grant and they probably would have cared if they'd listened to it. And I'm trying to Google this to a link of the song, but I can't find it because no one really liked that album except for me.


I keep thinking about this blog and how much I want to write in it, but I don't because I can't justify the time, and thoughts keep piling up and then I don't want to write because there's too much to write about,and I just end up forgetting everything anyway. Somehow, all these little "realizations" seem to feel so ultra important to me in a way I can only describe as the importance that my mom hang ALL of my artwork on the refrigerator. Like every little thought means so much.

Things are okay right now...to the point of being pretty good. I'm noticing that this whole elipsis thing (...) has become part of my way of writing and I don't like it. I have a friend that does it and it's become very addicting. I notice he does it at seemingly inappropriate times while writing (times that make no sense). I don't want to become like that.

So, here's a summary of what's up. I'm on a "get the f**K out of the city" kick, because of the school situation. I also wonder if Emmett's stress is connected to the busy way of our lives. Sometimes I think if we moved somewhere without distraction, maybe that would make me a better mom. So Lancaster has become my Eden, and everything seems so perfect there (although I've only been there once in my adult life). Okay, having said that, all of the sudden I'm going through this massive appreciation of everything about living in this city, although I still consider it second rate.

(In my mind I'm thinking, "Stop. Start over. I hate the tone of this post. Are you trying to prove you are underground with the Dead Milkmen part in the beginning? What's with the "f**K" part of the get out of the city paragraph. You don't curse. Are you trying to be edgy?". That's the problem with not blogging regularly. So I state here and now that I was not cool when I was in 8th grade, despite my one cool album, and that I do not curse and that I only referenced that explective because I felt it at that moment, and that my thoughts on Philadelphia as a second rate city are only because I still feel and will always feel that New York is the coolest).

So, I'm going through this massive thing about schools and realized, I force things through the way I want them, and the puny Philadelphia lottery muscle is no match for my will. And if I want Emmett in Meredith, I'll get him in there, so I started the process.

Then suddenly, Mike comes home and informs me that he talked to Uda (if you don't know her, you should meet her) and that we should consider home-schooling. I'm like "Mike, I get mad at Emmett for stamping a card in the wrong place. I get frustrated when he can't remember to start his capital G's at the top, how in the world could I homeschool". I don't really know what Mike is thinking except that Uda thought it would be a good idea and we don't like all this gun talk that's coming home from pre-school. He's into a collective. A Co-op etc. If I look at my sister Ana, she did turn out better than Audrey and I in her temperment (she was homeschooled for a few years), but I remember my mom sort of cheating. Like, cooking dinner was part of homeschooling (Ana can't cook). Or, me teaching Ana to type was part of homeschooling. Or me teaching a class was part of it (I was like 19).

(thoughts going through my head: This is boring! This is boring for anyone that's not you! Official disclaimer: This is for me and I'm sorry if it's boring).

A quick list of thoughts:

1. Emmett is regressing lately. It's definitely connected to the baby. I'm expecting him to be older than he is. I need desperately to work on this. I feel bad for Emmett because before the baby, he was my world. Now, the baby is my world, and I don't lavish the attention that I once did on him. However, Emmett is still my special boy. he's my first-born and I feel like we have a bond that no one can break. I need him to feel this though.

2. My marriage is getting better. To the point that it's pretty good. Mike looks hot to me lately, as he's growing his beard longer and updating his wardrobe. I sometimes think that I would notice him walking down the street if we never met.

3. Ethan is amazing and I'm planning to go to a Le Leche League meeting: It's true. I talked to the leader of it and realize I need the support. I've been nursing wrong for 2 months, and a 45 minute conversation made me feel that 1. Ethan is not starving 2. I have been nursing wrong. Since yesterday, the whole process has improved drastically. I need to go to something like LLL because I need the encouragement to continue and to remember why this is all worth it (the nursing thing).

4. We live a freelance lifestyle. And I'm spontaneous and hate planning things, so this is good. BUT IT'S HARD. I can't plan anything. Mike is "on call for work" 12 hours a day, including weekends. But it's better this way. I wish we didn't have to work. I am a bona-fide Gen X slacker through and through.

5. The t-shirt line is coming back to life. After an AWFUL year with potential name law-suits and two factories that can't seem to sew a basic shirt, we are re-energized by a new identity. We have to sort of start over. We've settled on Living Room Clothing. Please tell me what you think. I know one person that hates the name, but everyone else seems to like it.

6. I'm not back to my pre-pregnancy weight, but I'm getting closer. I can't wait to not care about this anynmore.

7. I am trying to get back into Circle a little and I miss it and I love it, but I still feel connected to the Orthodox faith -- the formality of it...the depth in it. I feel more comfortable with God as a higher being than with Jesus as a friend. I feel more comfortable with respect than with familiarity. I also feel more comfortable with the idea that the Orthodox faith holds "We do not know anything. We only know what we don't know".

8. I miss having housemates But they could never withstand the chaos.

9. I start my 3rd class next week at UArts with my old housemate Phil. It's Indesign. I can't wait, but am worried about our "freelance life" and what will happen if Mike is working.

10. I'm going back to work and am updating my website slowly. I am not actively seeking it, but if it comes, I will work.

Lastly....................................
The secret.
I promise I will tell you. It's hard for me to tell you because it's something I don't want to admit and that I haven't been ready to deal with. Mike knows about it. I told Jessica. I just continue to struggle and know that when I write it, I have to deal with it. It's nothing terrible, but it's something that happened that I'm still wresting with. When I do, the post will only be devoted to that. And I need to write it in the next week.

We took the tree

down, and it's finally over. In fact, we took it down yesterday. And we took the lights down, and we took the strange little decorations down. And do I dare, during these my first alone moments -- the little bit of free time I have -- write in this blog. But I have to, because even though in many ways I hate writing, I'm a person that cleans out by writing, even if what I'm writing has little to do with the issues I'm feeling.

This has been by far the most difficult Christmas I've ever experienced. Shopping for a list of 40 people, caring for a newborn, hosting my family, and still trying to make it special for Emmett (while trying to convince him that Christmas is not about gifts, but about Jesus' birth) proved to be a monumental task and one that I started the week before my baby was born. Getting "rid" of Christmas was the most exciting thing that's happened in 2 months.

During my blog silence, every single day I had at least one thought I wanted to jot down for archival sake, if nothing else. My thoughts are these quick little realizations, mostly half-baked, explainable like defining a cliche. I doubt I'll remember even 2 of them, but maybe by starting a list some will pop out.

1. Writing Thank You cards actually make me feel organized. After I receive anything or am blessed by anyone, writing the card feels more like a housecleaning.

2. Emmett's really admires Phil more than almost anyone else.

3. When Audrey is home, my personality feels complete. I feel more robust. I can only explain it in this way: When Audrey and I are hanging out (particularly in a group of people) I feel prettier, funnier, sillier and like, as a package, socializing is almost effortless.

There's some desire in me to write everything that happened this Christmas, including a list of gifts, the "hard times", my favorite parts etc. And later, these are the types of lists that are most interesting to me. But I can't do it now. At this moment, my writing is not concise and tight. I'm tired and out of tune with all this. But I better get it together soon because I have an interview with a temp company next week and I told them I can do project-based and part time work. I need to remember my other profession.