Top 5 ways being a mom is like being President

I just read this hilarious post on someone's blog.
It made me want to do something similar.

Top 5 reasons being a mom is like being President:

5. You're always wondering who to blame.
4. Your power and knowledge mean nothing to your kids.
3. Just making your own decision always fares better than getting the two parties to agree.
2. Every word you ever utter is stored forever in the memory banks to be used against you later.
1. Labor Day is no picnic.

Add yours!

Ahhhhhhh!

Sometimes---okay--often--- these days I get really upset with Zoe--- my oldest who turns 3 in 3 weeks.
She does a LOT of hitting of her new sister and is in time out at least once every 2 hours. Teagan is so little and sweet that I am rarely frustrated with her---she isn't colicky or very demanding at all (in my opinion).
So... this highlights Zoe's crazed ways. She has plenty of good traits, too, but she also: tears around the house--- takes out all her toys at once, squeezes and hits her sister, screams "NO!" to her parents, gets immediately frustrated when something doesn't work, screams loudly for no reason, is bossy, is rude, won't stay in bed at night, and doesn't listen.
I love her to pieces and she's my girl--but... I can see that this little window into the future. Is Teagan's birth the turning point in our relationship? Am I getting too frustrated when I should be calm and allow her to let it out and then shower her with love even if she doesn't want it?
I am determined to have close, authentic relationships with my girls, but I cannot stand Zoe's behavior and most of our interactions involve conflict these last 2 months. Seth (my husband) says we are too alike. It's true.
So--in moments when she is sleeping and I look at her all quiet and still, I can remember what it was like to be little and not feel heard. Or feel replaced. Or to miss my mom. Or to just have a sad day or moment. I try to remember it for the next time I get angry with her.
Picture: Zoe as a baby

Can both things be true?

I just read an article in July's O Magazine by Martha Beck. It's about two things being true at once--two opposing things. Like--- can a guy be a player, but also The One, etc. I read this thinking about my mom. My mom is wonderful. She loves her granddaughters, lavishes them with attention and gifts and hugs. She is also a huge source of stress for me, often living in a fantasy which I waver between participating in (to make her happy) and denouncing (when it gets to be too much). Can she be both things at once? Yes.
My mother is from the generation (and particular family) that feels it's best to just sweep things under the rug and paste on a happy facade. When I get the nerve up to refuse this from time to time, I am The Problem.
I am at a crossroads-- well, truthfully I have been here for years stalling--- but I think I am at the edge of finally picking a road. I know which way I'm going to go, but it's not easy. It's not easy to go against someone you love. It's not easy, even when you know living authentically and wholly depends on it.
When I hear stories of abused people (just making a connection here), I never understand why it is so hard for them to accuse their tormentor... don't they know it's obvious to the world who is wrong? But, I get it. No situation is just one thing.
Both things can be true.
Finding your own boundaries in the mess--- so you can live your best life--- is the hard part.

Peacemaker or Pushover?

"We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented." This is a quote from author and Holocaust survivor Elie Wielsel. It is one of my favorite quotes. It states something so simple that it's often not obvious.
I realize it's a bold quote for my subject today--and it doesn't quite fit exactly, but it is ringing in my head.
In my extended family (my immediate family of origin is just my mother and me) the general rule to live by is "peace at any cost". This was my grandmother's feeling. The idea of peace at any cost makes me cringe. It's also a fallacy. Basically it says "peace on the outside is more important than peace on the inside".
I want to write at length, but I also want to hold my new daughter and watch her sleep, and get a load of laundry done, so I'll make it quick...
Is it healthy to give someone else peace at the cost of your own?
Is it healthy to bend to someone else's wish if it brings them joy---but brings you strife or stress?
Where is the line? Does it depend on just how much strife it gives you?
I am struggling with this... I don't want to be the bad guy--- the one who is unwilling to bend and labeled the asshole. But... I also feel I've come to a point where I am unwilling to bend and then live with the yucky feeling that comes with it.
Every year I get older I think I'll be closer to not caring what people think. I don't think I am even close to that place!
I realize I've been vague, but if you have thoughts on the subject, let 'em out...

To sleep, or accomplish?

My basic nighttime routine has now become this: 'last' feeding at 11pm, then "do things" (shower, laundry, snack, prepare bags for Stroller Strides/outing for the morning, email, pay bills, etc.) till 1:30am. Then wake up (not by choice for all of you childless readers) between 6-7am.
This is not... ideal. I was going to say 'smart', but it would be equally dumb to not pay bills and not shower as it is to live on 5 hours of sleep on a consistent basis. And 5 hours of light sleep at that, as many moms can attest. One rogue snore from one of my daughters and my eyes are open. Even just moving an arm can wake me, I swear. "What was that!!?? Is Zoe suffocating in her sheets?!"
I guess this is the mark of a caring mom, so I should feel reassured.
But mostly... I just feel tired.

Family

Of course everyone has family drama of some sort or another. I once heard a statistic that 80% of families are dysfunctional. In fact, when I hear someone's 'poor me' story about their childhood, I'm kinda like, "Yeah... and?" I agree that at least 80% could put a crappy spin on our childhoods.
For instance-- I had a wonderful childhood. My mother was always employed, I was clothed, fed, my mom talked to me about my feelings, and made sure I could read before Kindergarten, told me she loves me at least three times a day and came to all of my Drama Club events.
Or--- I could say this: I grew up without a father and my biological dad probably didn't even believe my mom that he was my father. I met him once when I was 16, and when I did he mentioned my boobs. (Gross.) I have 4 half brothers that have no idea I exist. My mom married for the first time when I was 3, and when it didn't work out and I lost two people I had known as sisters at the time. My mom married again when I was 12 and I loved him, and he died of cancer less than two years later, again losing my 7 year old stepbrother because his grandparents contested the will vowing 'no grandson of theirs would be raised by a Jewish woman'. My mom married again when I was 20--to a man who is my polar opposite---and from that day our closeness faded with each year.
As Jack Canfield says, "That's just, 'So what? The question is, what are you going to do now?"
And that is the real question. (For me.)
In creating my own family, I thought all of these issues would evaporate. Nope. They seem even more pressing. And I thought I'd find peace in creating a family to function the way I think (my husband and I think, actually) it should function. Nope. Now I just find myself wanting my extended family to agree with me. But, why should they? I don't agree with them. And isn't it pretty much true (though it sounds un-advanced to say) people don't really change after a certain point? I'm going to go ahead and state this: People don't change after about 25 years old. Maybe they grow, or learn new things... but in truth-- I am still the same person I was when I was six years old.
So, to sum up the point of this post (and because my almost-3 year old is screaming her head off upstairs)... I guess I just have to make peace with what is largely out of my control. I will never change my mother, or extended family. I can share my feelings and ideas, but ultimately, I have to be okay with just knowing I agree with my choices. Tough, because even though I am a grown-up and can look at my mother and see the flaws and the places lacking insight... she's my mother... and a little piece of me will always need her to approve and applaud. And because, I think about how I feel and want to do everything I can to keep the silent distance from gorwing between me and my daughters.
We say we don't want to turn into our parents and we laugh... but I think we laugh to keep the true fear of it at bay. Because it's not that we don't want to turn into our parents... it's that we just don't want to turn into whatever part made us sad.

Old friends, new roles

One of my closest friends in the world is getting married in less than 3 weeks. I am his Best Man. (He was my Man of Honor almost 6 years ago.) I've sat down to write the Best Man's toast about a dozen times and can't figure a way to fuse all these different things I want to say. I've been reading articles and books on marriage, and it just makes me want to read more about it, not write more about it.
I got married the month before my 25th birthday. For my generation-- especially if you're a college graduate, and especially if you're an actor (actors don't usually accept one permanent job fresh out of college)--that is pretty young to get married. I was engaged a year after I graduated college--- and I didn't meet my husband until 3 months before that. Here I am, almost 6 years married, and one of my close friends is FINALLY getting married. I have waited for this. Not because I think everyone should get married. Not because I don't want to be the 'only one'. Because I have had trouble keeping the same kind of connection to these friends since the day I accepted Seth's proposal. More so once we actually got married, after buying a house, and much, much more so after having children. Now, this is a guess, but I don't think they feel it as much. I think they feel pretty much the same closeness to me, minus the regular fading time and distance take. But, try talking about your sex life to your single girlfriend who hasn't been with the same man more than a year or two and it just... turns into explaining and justifying instead of mutual understanding---through no one's fault which makes it even sadder (for me). Or tell your friend how tough it is to get up with a newborn and nurse her and then your preschooler wakes up, and he mentions having to get up to walk the dog. Or listen to anyone without kids talk about how busy they are and try not to laugh. Or try telling your gay friend (right now, the closest to my situation with a longtime partner and a mortgage) sometimes your 3 years old makes you so mad you want to smack her... again-- not the same as telling another mom who has been there 1000 times over.
But, another mom, or another wife isn't who I want. I want these people. These friends I chose when I was just me. I didn't choose them to be in my life because our kids are the same age. Or because our husbands get along, or because we are neighbors. I chose them because we connected when we were just ourselves. And not even! We met at 18, 19 years old. That makes it even better--- we grew with each other. I want them growing with me still---and we are---but there are so many choices, it's impossible to all grow down the same path, especially at the same time.
Before I was a mother, I HATED hearing people tell me, "You aren''t busy till you have kids... Wait till you have kids, then you'll know..., etc." I vowed not to be the person who thinks those thoughts and to remember how condescending I thought that was and rude. So, I mainly keep my mouth shut. But the awful truth is--- I still think it!
I think, "I'm glad you love your cat/dog/fish, etc., but you can leave him at home for 10 hours and go out without getting arrested!"
The great thing is--and what I need to remember more often--- that we all still talk. Still love each other. Still care anough to ask, listen, and be there. Enough to meet in the middle of the Smoky Mountains and have Thanksgiving together this year. I think that's a pretty rare record. Most moms I know drift out of friendships with single friends by the one year old mark.
Zoe turns 3 next month and she's a flower girl in my friend's wedding. She knows all of them as her uncles and aunts. I know the name of the guy (and the juicy details) my girlfriend went on a date with Friday night (and he sounds like a winner!), and even though it sounds like the weirdest thing in the world, this mother of two still had fun planning a Bachelor Party just last week.
Am I sad not one of these three people whom I call my best friends is having children when I am having children? Yes--it's hard. Being a mother is my favorite thing I've ever done and I want to share it with these friends who know me best. Not getting to share it (as in-- raising children at the same time) at times makes me feel isolated from them.

But... the blessing is... we don't need that to connect us. We're connected.

And anyway, I can talk potty training and vaginal lacerations with the other moms.

"I like you, Me!"

Several years ago, when my husband and I were engaged, he caught me doing something in the bathroom that embarrassed me... I was standing in front of the mirror, smiling at myself, and saying in a cheery 5 year old's voice, "I like you, me!" It was a great moment, though. I realized---even with my then fiance, I wasn't comfortable fully embracing myself. I liked the idea of it--and people might have used the word "brazen" to describe me, but, in truth, I care what people think.
My friend Liz started a blog, and listening to her inspired me to start my own. My husband writes one, several friends of mine have one... we'll see what I discover by blogging. Hopefully, my glee at being able to look at myself in the mirror and declare my "like" for what I see will only grow.
(Picture taken during our engagement.)