Lindy’s Blog: Where Mom is Always Right

March 19, 2010

Good news!

Filed under: This and that... — by lindyborer @ 3:51 pm
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Yes, you can tell by the dearth of recent posts by moi that I am still in what I call “all baby, all the time” madness.  This means that if I have a moment to myself, it’s not going to be spent blogging.  In place of blogging, you can insert something like “showering,” “brushing teeth,” or some other inane though highly necessary aspect of daily living. 

However, at this point in time I am pleased to say that I have a small moment of quiet.  And I just wanted to post here that–due to some expressed concern by some of you after my last post–I am not on suicide watch.  Looking back, it does appear that I was awash in the “baby blues.”  I didn’t mean to alarm anyone and life is good.

February 7, 2010

The babe arrived…

Filed under: Family — by lindyborer @ 9:18 am
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Baby Amelia made her grand debut in the wee hours of February 2nd.  We are home and well and all adjusting to Life With Baby (some of us better than others.) 

(Cue Meat Loaf’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” please.)

There’s something about the toxic mix of hormones, being up at very strange hours, absolutely no schedule or routine, visitors, nursing, diapers, and February snow/darkness that creates a very surreal, heady, and otherworldly feeling.  To go from understanding–with perfect clarity–how murder/suicides happen to being awash in complete and total contentedness from one moment to the next is something that only new mothers experience.  I could be wrong, of course, but don’t you dare tell me that to my face right now; the “baby blues” manifest themselves in a terrible, sudden, deadly and quite irrational way for me.   

My heart is bursting and breaking all at once.  Welcome to motherhood!

December 8, 2008

kitchen adventures

Filed under: Family — by lindyborer @ 8:25 am
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I had been asked to relate the debacle that unfolded in my kitchen a week past.  Perhaps it will be expunged from my soul with the writing of it.   

You might recall that Linus and I were going to make chocolate mint sticks during Eliza’s nap.  We were underway, and I decided that I should kill several birds with one stone and refill the humidifier.  It takes awhile, so my usual method is to set it over by David’s work sink and put the spray nozzle in (held open by a rubber band) to let it fill.  There is a fill line, and a hole strategically placed to apparently punish one for failing to remember the humidifier is filling.   

Meanwhile, a series of events took place in the space of about thirty seconds.  The first, Eliza woke up from her nap groggy and most definitely not refreshed.  Linus, left alone at the mixer, decided to add all the flour at once.  Not two cups of flour indicated by the recipe, ALL the flour in my canister.   The chocolate chips melting in the saucepan (because, you’ll recall, our microwave was still being fixed) remained forgotten, and stuck to the bottom of the too hot pan.  I’m talking burned to the bottom an inch thick. 

With Eliza on my hip, I attempted with one hand to scoop out the extra flour and get out another saucepan for more chocolate.  Suddenly, in a rare moment of quiet, I heard a pleasant, trickling water sound.   Soon realizing what this probably was, and shrieking in dismay, I deposited the cranky Eliza on the floor and ran over to find an inch of water on the floor of the adjacent laundry room.   The kids annoyingly and reliably forgot their troubles and showed up underfoot almost immediately, while I rushed to grab some sort of receptacle to place under the overflow hole that was still spouting water onto the floor.  I yelled at Linus to grab some towels from the bathroom, simultaneously realizing that all the big towels I had were WET and IN the washing machine.  All others were, of course, up two flights of stairs. 

Kids seem to have a universal fascination with water, especially water in places where it shouldn’t be.  It took very little time for them to wade in gleefully, while I methodically tried to dam up the water with mixing bowls and washcloths.  Once I had staunched the source, I took the soaking wet rugs by the back door outside to hang on the clothesline.  I came back in to find all the dirt that seeps through the rugs over time a sludgy and muddy mess.  The saving grace of the entire situation lay in the fact that no surface in our old house is level, the carpenters of the time apparently not bothered with such things as plumb lines or levels.  This meant that the water seeped to the outside corner of the utility room, and hopefully did cause a mold problem. 

And then, Eliza pooped. 

Ah, the joys of motherhood and domesticity.

November 21, 2008

Christmas electrical lighting: The scourge of the season

Filed under: Family — by lindyborer @ 10:35 am
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It’s a chilly 12 degrees this morning, and “Jack Frost” visited overnight.  Our corn stove is doing its job, though, and I love seeing the merry flames from the kitchen table as I type. 

The other day I made up my mind to get out the Christmas lights, and attempt to erect some sort of holiday display outside (if we have a warmer day, that is.)  And, as happens every year, I discovered upon opening the box the strands that I had so meticulously packed last year had inexplicably entangled upon sitting immobile on the shelf for 11 months.  This is one of life’s Great Mysteries.  That and the sneaking fear of making the wrong move somehow and getting the things up, only to discover that only half the strand works.  My mom, always a very patient person, would calmly and methodically twist each one should this unfortunate thing occur.  The effect of half-strand burnout on me is somewhat different, I confess, usually involving visible steam emanating from my ears and a series of choice, voluble expletives issuing from my mouth.  I’m convinced that no saint ever hung Christmas lights.  

I’m sure there are any number of accounts of this trying activity posted in blogs across the web; the hanging of Christmas lights is a misery that loves company, it seems.  But I have not yet crossed over to Scroogedom (as has my husband, who flatly refuses to assist in the task).  I rarely decorate for any holiday or season, but Christmas is special and an exception. 

So if there’s one good thing about the frigid outdoor temperature, it’s that it has successfully delayed this self-flagellation for the present time.

Today marks a week of being done with harvest.  Just in time for the insanity that is Deer Season, where orange-clad, rifle-bearing men take to their pickups and tear madly around the countryside—sometimes in herds and sometimes solo—in quest of the elusive “thirty point buck.”  None has been sighted thus far. 

Harvest 2008, being now in the history books, means that David is here for the duration of the evening.  This is good and bad.  It’s bad in that we’re both here to annoy one another at will, but good in the sense that we have a sympathetic ally in relation to the pent-up energy that is a four and almost-two year old.  The overzealousness of the children leads to many offhand remarks on our part, such as “Could you hand me a butterknife and a revolver, honey?” and gestures such as the index finger throat slice.  It’s a cross, at times, but the kids do seem to provide an equal amount of joy as well. 

For example, I made hot roast beef sandwiches for lunch the other day.  Linus, being the typical small child skeptical of any food that has the potential of being wholesome or healthy, remarked in complete seriousness to David as he sat down with a nice, big pile of roast beef:  “Hey, Dad.  Is that poop?” 

That one will probably go in the baby book.  All part of the thankless, hilarious task of being a mother.

July 31, 2008

Pressing forward

Filed under: Uncategorized — by lindyborer @ 8:03 am
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Yes, I have many wrinkles to iron out.  But, hooray for me, this is not a 0-60 morning.  The kids are both still in dreamland, and I’m on my second cup of coffee. 

Congratulations to my cousin Natalie and her husband Mike on the birth of their baby girl, Charlie, yesterday in Ft. Collins.  (love the name.)  It brings me back to July of four years ago, when Linus was born, and I’m reminded how difficult those first days and weeks are with a new baby, especially the first one.  In my mind, I find that I divide my life into two parts, the one before I had kids, and the one after.  And I must say, even though taking care of two high-spirited kids is the biggest challenge I’ve ever faced (besides of course actually having them) I think I am enjoying the latter division the most.  Even on the days that I think, “Why did I ever procreate?” I still would never trade freedom and autonomy for 24/7 kid care.  All my mother friends agree.  If Linus wasn’t here, I would have never heard him say to me (and imagine a fierce look and a finger wagging accompanying this comment) “Because I’m the Linus!”  This had to be b/c David threw out the age-old, “Because I’m the Dad!” the other night.  Wonderful.

In relation to these thoughts, I read an interesting article this morning about Rebecca Walker, daughter of famous American feminist Alice Walker (author of The Color Purple ).  She has written a book about how the birth of her son completely changed her own feminist viewpoints, in that she no longer thinks of motherhood and children as millstones around the neck.  It’s a good read: 

http://www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2008/jul/08073010.html  Motherhood is “the Most Rewarding Experience of My Life” says Feminist Icon’s Daughter

And now the house is waking up, and so I begin another day of motherhood, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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