The Mom Gig

It was as I was carrying my tantrum-throwing, screaming, hysterical, red-faced, possessed daughter to my car (in the rain, mind you, because, of course, at that moment it would also have to be pouring) that it occurred to me I really would not mind having a cry myself. I am sure a few moms out there (and, I don't know, perhaps a few dads) know what I am talking about. You know, those times when you have absolutely used up the last tiny particle of whatever it is that holds you upright and makes you a parent. Those times when you want to throw your hands up in the air and say "uncle" or "am I on camera?" because this cannot possibly really be happening just like this, can it? Those times when you are pretty sure you might actually be capable of ripping your own hair out of your head in frustration. Yup, I wanted a good cry. You see, we were leaving a play date and what should have been a fun time for Isabelle, only she was having one of her, shall we say, "moments," and basically lost it when I suggested she needed to start sharing or we would have to leave.


In truth, I should have saw it coming. It started with her reluctance to eat the macaroni and cheese offered for lunch. The whiny voice was a hint, and I should have probably made our exit sooner, but I foolishly thought once she was playing again she would be fine, as she had never had one of her meltdowns when her friends were around for distraction. No such luck. When it became clear to her that I would not take the toy she wanted away from her friend, Sean, she started to lose it, and in the few moments it took to put shoes and jacket on, my friends got to witness Isabelle in all her dramatic, over-the-top glory. Embarrassing to say the least, although driving home, watching Isabelle flail around in her car seat like a wild animal, still screaming at the loudest possible volume, it was the least of my concerns.


The tantrums/meltdowns are not new. It was referred to as colic when she was an infant, although Clay and I dubbed the non-stop crying infant version of Isabelle as her "Evil Twin." As she has gotten older she has improved and the "episodes" are much less frequent, but it is a continual challenge for me in teaching Isabelle how to handle and express her strongly felt emotions. Especially in light of the fact that she is not quite four and put simply is not truly capable of being totally reasoned with nor can she necessarily understand or even fully articulate how she feels. I am doing my best to help her find ways to self-soothe and calm herself when she becomes agitated and to teach her better methods to handle situations but obviously it is a process and not one that is fixed over night.

I pulled into the garage with her still yelling full force and shut off the car, inhaling a deep, shuddering breath as I did so. Yeah, I wanted to cry, but not because my kid acted like a psychopath in front of my friends (whoopee, all kids do sooner or later, and every parent knows it is true) and not because I think Isabelle is some damaged child who is somehow mentally defective because she throws fits that could probably register on the Richter scale. I just wanted to cry because sometimes this Mom gig is so damn HARD. And sometimes I just do not feel big enough for it or strong enough for it or GOOD enough for it. Sometimes I just want to curl up and have someone hug ME and say, "Yes, this is hard." (then the other part of me screams "no pity parties" and get over yourself!).

In the end I didn't cry, which is kind of amazing considering how often I am known to shed tears because I guess I have managed to figure one thing out in the time I have been Isabelle's Mom. Sometimes all you can do is just keep trying. Which is why we moms will continue to tell our kids no when they throw the same toy across the room for the millionth time, why we will keep putting that broccoli on their dinner plates, why we will keep reminding them to put on their bike helmets, buckle-up, look both ways, use their manners, and brush their teeth. And why I will talk with Isabelle when she is calmer about sharing toys and using her manners (and not acting like a maniac) when we are at our friend's house. Being a mom is hard, but I try to remind myself that anything worth doing usually is.

Hockey Joy

Can I just say I am so proud of my Red Wings! What a game yesterday! Despite being without their captain Lidstrom and key players Datsuk and Draper they rallied and stepped up and played a fantastic game, making Chicago look like the inexperienced and undisciplined team they are. While the Hawks were busy skating around trying to exact "revenge" for Kronwall's supposed bad hit on Havlat from Game Three we went on to win a hockey game. And I was so happy to See Marion Hossa play such a wonderful game and get some pucks in the net. He has been working so hard, and it is about time he gets some pay off for it.

Overall, the Red Wings demonstrated why they are so amazingly good... the depth on the team is simply unmatched. There is not one or two star players... it is a team of all truly skilled hockey players that all have the capability of being the star on any given night which maybe is not as exciting for the media people because they cannot fixate on just one person (like a Sidney Crosby), but it sure works for this fan.

Now we are one game away from returning to the Stanley cup finals for the second year in a row. If Pittsburgh follows and returns as well it will be the first time since 1983 that the same two teams have consecutively played one another for Lord Stanley. Whew.

Let's finish out Chicago in Game Five. GO WINGS!

Nine Years

Yes, it is hard to believe, but Clay and I swapped " I do's" nine years ago, today. After so long we are not exactly bright, shiny newlyweds anymore, but at the end of the day I like to think we are both pretty content with where we find ourselves. After all, we have much to be thankful for.

A favorite quote comes to mind on this day:

"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person."
-Mignon McLaughlin, Atlantic (July 1965).

Fortunately for me, falling in love with my husband continues to be the easiest thing in the world to do. Happy Anniversary, Clay.

Happy Wing Girl

Yes, yes, it is a Red Wing post, so if you don't like it then just skip this entry because unless you are clueless the Wings played a great game yesterday, and I just have to say YAY! They are now officially one game away from sending the Ducks back where they belong ... to their little pond in Anaheim.

It has been an ugly, physical series, with the Ducks doing their best to try and win on nothing but the back of their goalie and mostly cheap shots with a healthy dose of whining on their part. With the exception of one solid line they can not match the Red Wings in talent and have been out shot every single game. Yesterday was no exception with the Wings out-shooting the Ducks 38-17, but all of us fans were feeling old ghosts creeping in as the they continued to dominate play and pucks bounced off of goal posts . Until three minutes into the 2nd period when the Mule (Johan Franzen, for those of you not up on nicknames) banged one in to give us a one goal lead and Hudler (a.k.a Happy Hudler) knocked another one in out of mid-air (yes, mid-air) 39 seconds later.

What does the Anaheim coach, Randy Carlyle have to say about Franzen and his numerous goals this series? "Pretty good shots." YA THINK! Lets review, Randy: The Mule has scored twenty times in twenty-five playoff games. Still think that is just pretty good?!

Regardless, this Wing girl is one happy woman today and will be sporting her Lidstrom jersey tomorrow in the hopes the Red Wings will finish out this series once and for all in Anaheim. Go Wings!

Faith

Faith - Belief that does not rest on logical proof or material evidence.

It is raining today. Big, fat slow drops that trail down the windows, causing my fat cat, Nib to bat at them with his paws as he sits on the windowsill. It has been a cool spring for us, and I am anxious for the warmer days, to put on my sandals, open my car window and feel the breeze blow my hair. Yesterday, leaving the playground early due to the chilly south wind off of lake Michigan, Isabelle looked into the cloud-filled sky and proclaimed, "Now the sun will never come out!" I replied that sooner or later it would come out and sooner or later it would warm up, even in the U.P. I have faith. (But today I am still in my sweatshirt and sipping hot chocolate).

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I stayed up last night watching the Red Wings lose 2-1 in Game Three in Round 2 of the NHL playoffs against the Anaheim Ducks. With about 1:04 left in the game Marion Hossa tapped in the tying goal making it 2-2, only to have the referee, Brad Watson wave it off and call no goal. Why? Well, to put it simply, Mr. Watson was out of position and lost sight of the puck so he whistled the play dead, guessing the puck was under Jonas Hiller, the Duck goalie. Never mind, the fact, that more then half the arena plus the replay easily showed the puck in plain view the entire time. According to the rules it is a non-reviewable play, so the tying goal was waved off, overtime never happened, and the Ducks won to go up 2-1 in the series, throwing thousands of fans, Wings and Ducks alike, into a frenzy. I was disappointed to say the least. Railing at the hockey Gods? You bet. But I have faith. Faith that in the end my Red Wings will ultimately prevail. (It might help though if the league and Bettman and the refs could call a consistent game and have some rules that made sense, like any play involving a goal be reviewable on replay!).

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Then there are the world events these days. So much in the news is negative and difficult to absorb. I feel bombarded with tales of the slumping economy, lost jobs, skyrocketing health care, global warming, the sad state of the housing market and the auto industry. It is as if the news media is doing its best to try and put us all on medication for depression with such a steady diet of only bad news. And, of course, there is now the dreaded H1N1 virus or swine flu to talk about as well. Here is the amazing thing though: Despite all the talking heads on television telling me how bad the state of the world is right now, in my heart of hearts I know we will be okay. Some might call me foolish or naive and these days it seems almost unpopular to be patriotic, but I still honestly believe this is a great country and that at the end of the day we will see ourselves through this mess. I have faith. (Again, it might help if the masses could use a little common sense and quite frankly get out of their own way).

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And there is my family, my marriage. As evidenced by this blog, it doesn't run like clockwork and it is not perfect. In fact, the two people that live under this roof with me have the ability to make me more frustrated then any other two people on the entire planet. I fantasize about maxing out a credit card and buying a one way ticket to Hawaii and parking myself on Waimea beach on the North Shore of Oahu (or perhaps a more secluded beach on Maui, yeah), selling homemade jewelry (not that I have a clue how to make any) and eating Opa (best fish ever) until I am stuffed. Being single, alone, with no responsibilities to anyone, but myself. Those fantasies arise inevitably after a day of Isabelle whining non-stop and Clay coming home from a long day of work, which culminates in us both snapping at each other, essentially competing to see who had the harder day. Dumb. But I always have faith. Faith that even when he and I are truly angry at one another, that our marriage is not going to fall apart, for it is made of stronger stuff. Faith that our love will bring it right back around... and it always does.

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Some of you might ask where is God for me in all of this faith, and I would say that by now that should be fairly obvious. He is at the center of it, from the simple and mundane, to the weighty and important. Perhaps that is why I do not necessarily feel the need to be sitting in a church pew every Sunday. My belief, my faith doesn't come from an organized religion. It simply comes from within.