Tug of war

Yesterday morning my 9-year old flounced past me with a side pony tail she had done herself.  It looked cute with her blue floral shirt and jean style leggings that she had chosen herself.  But there were strands of hair coming out and it was a bit messy.  My left arm was tied up cradling Alex as I nursed him and I couldn't have properly fixed her pony tail with one hand.  Remi is no expert at girls' hair styles and it was time for him to take her to school anyway.  So I had to let it go.

This is my life version 9.0.  As in a nine-year old and a zero-year old.  Totally different needs and ends of the spectrum.  On the one hand I am arguing with the big (no, she says, not big yet!), er, medium girl about how she needs to memorize the times tables, on the other I am trying to get a not yet four-month old to not cry when I leave the room.  With Juliette I can make silly jokes about things we've seen on TV or on the street, with Alex we are just trying to make him laugh, period.

One evening as he was crying and I was straining to hear what Juliette had said ("You never listen to me," is her new mantra), and the fatigue was showing on my face and audible in my voice, she said, "Yes, that's what it's like having two kids."  Out of the mouths of babes.  She was only repeating something I must have said at another time to explain to her that I had to share my time between them.

As Coldplay sang, "Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard."  Oh, Chris Martin, you said it.  My heart is full with two kids but it is also tugged in two directions.  Constantly.  Which is why the moments when they both seem to be enjoying each other's company are golden.  Like when I put him on her chest right before bed and he lifts his head up and makes her smile.  Or I pretend he is talking and telling her "baby jokes."  She is eager to have a bro she can interact with more and until he gets there, I "animate" him for her.

But the gap will always be there, with new challenges at each age.  I am afraid to think of her 13th year and his 4th one.  God help me.  Thankfully I'll be able to drink alcohol again by then, because I can see a glass of white becoming essential when the petulant years and pre-school tantrums coincide.

And since I can't drink now, I'll just blog.  As I spend these next months at home I will try and blog once a week.  To record those baby and big, oops, medium girl milestones.  And to keep myself sane.

This multiple choice life

Think quickly! You have an extra 20 minutes all to yourself.  Do you:
a) do the grocery shopping online?
b) nap?
c) update your blog?

When baby is sleeping I am faced with this kind of choice.  Practical me will probably finish up the grocery shopping.  Though the nap would definitely take the edge off my day.  Sometimes I choose to blog a bit (after the groceries).  Because that is good for me, too!

I am now officially on what the French call parental leave (congé parental).  After the ten weeks post birth, I chose to extend my time at home with baby.  And I am trying to find something of a routine without feeling tied down to it either.

My days are structured around picking up Juliette for lunch, taking her back, and getting her at the end of the day.  Remi can help out in the morning for now at least which allows baby (and me) to rest a bit longer.  Then it is feeding baby (which doesn't exactly stick to a strict schedule), putting up dishes and generally starting some other household chore.

But I don't want my time as a Stay At Home Mom, for lack of a better term, to just be defined by cleaning and cooking. These next 8 months are supposed to be quality time with my new baby and some catching up with my big girl.  I get to help her more with her homework (which sometimes leads to me pulling my hair out) and take her to the library or make cookies on Wednesday afternoons.

And being a list-maker (got this from my mom!), I have things I want to get done in this period of time.  That includes some major organizing of my house.  I don't think all the plastic tubs in the world will make my place one of those pristine clutter-free homes, but it is still a goal of mine.  I also hope to do some more sewing, an activity that calms me, finish up that scarf I started, oh, two years ago, and do more writing (hence the blogging to get back into practice).

And catch up on some tv because my busy work and home life of the past few years has gotten me way behind.  Sometimes life imitates art, too, because when I watch Jane the Virgin I am reminded of my pregnancy and newborn concerns.  Or Modern Family to reassure me that my crazy day isn't so crazy after all.  Plus I have added as a goal (yes, a serious one) to watch all things Jason Bateman that exist on Netflix.  From Arrested Development (check!) to Ozark (check!) and all mediocre films in between (getting there).  How is that for a bucket list goal?

In between the school pick ups and drop offs, the dishes and the puttering, I will try to remember to enjoy this time.  A brief pause in my working life, a necessary time to put some things aside and focus on family.  With no regrets.