Inadequate Parenting

IMG_9641.JPGDo you know what can knock you down so quickly as a parent? For me, it is a trip to our pediatrician for a routine physical. One would think that by getting them there to make sure that they are healthy and are vaccinated is enough. But no, the judging factor by a pediatrician is unreal. I know that I am not the only one who feels this way about their pediatrician because I hear that it happens all of the time. Now don’t get me wrong, I like our pediatrician. She is extremely knowledgeable and is great with my kids. So why on earth do I leave there feeling like an inadequate parent?

Today I had Camryn’s one month checkup and then a well-visit for my four year old. I thought I was a genius in scheduling two appointments back to back because it would be easier to just get them over with on the same day. While sitting in the room waiting for our doctor to come in, I was wondering what I was thinking. In that moment, I blamed it on the postpartum baby brain and added in some kind words from my inner voice that said ‘hey Korrinn, way to go asshole. Let’s file this in the NEVER do this again category you mother of two amateur’.

Harper was first on the chopping block and everything was going well. She nailed her eye test and her ‘show me how well you can walk to the door and turn around’ exam. Next up was the routine check of weight, height, eyes, and ears. This part of the physical never bothers me. It is what happens directly after that gets to me. Now we move on to the part of how your kid sizes up (quite literally) in percentiles.  Great, we are already comparing our children to what “normal” should be and look like. Why are we talking about BMI’s with a four year old? She is “overweight” by three pounds. Three stupid pounds. Her doctor then says that she is really muscular, strong, and built wider and that she isn’t too worried. Then she stares at me for a moment. Yes, Dr. McJudgington, you are correct in your assumption that she has my body type. No wonder why individuals have issues with body image. We introduce it at such an early age. Now that we have that all squared away, here come the questions because I can’t just say that she is three pounds heavier than the average child and expect that to be it now can I?

Basically it is a full blown interrogation at this point about my child and my child’s daily routines.  I would imagine it being very different from a real interrogation since you don’t have a bat shit crazy preschooler who would like to do her own damn thing (like touch every medical instrument, ask to use gloves every four seconds, and of course ask to borrow the stethoscope so she can play doctor while your ass is in the hot seat) since she was just poked and prodded for a solid half hour. In between you reminding your child to ‘stop touching the medical equipment’ or to ‘not touch the bio-hazard container filled with fucking sharps’ you are expected to carefully answer the barrage of questions being launched at you.  Because if you answer in any sort of way that isn’t the norm or that she doesn’t like, you are judged. Most times it isn’t silent judgment either. Questions like; how many fruits and vegetables is your daughter eating per day? How is her appetite? Are you solely breastfeeding the baby or supplementing? What does she do for activities and exercise? How long does she sleep at night for? Have you gone to the dentist? Can she share? How is she acting now that she has a new sister? Is she wetting the bed? How much screen time is she allowed to have? How many books do you read together? I know that she is asking these questions to make sure that my kids are reaching their developmental milestones and behaving in age-appropriate ways, however, I find myself almost fibbing or making excuses often during this interrogation period.  Umm, how many vegetables did she eat? I think to myself for a minute. The real answer is ‘not a whole lot’ but I found myself saying what my pediatrician wanted to hear because I felt uncomfortable from the sideways glance I got after the last question I answered.  So this is what this has turned in to? I am lying to the doctor to make myself feel better and feel like I am not a terrible parent to my two children. With one question I even stuttered because I was so baffled on how to answer her honestly. The mom guilt is often too much for me to bear on a daily basis and now I have someone else making me feel like a piece of shit. Super.

After about three solid minutes of me answering questions that I was half listening to because I now am being given a physical by my four year old; I gave up. I know that I am a good parent.  Scratch that, a GREAT parent! I do everything for my two girls and sacrifice almost everything else that I need because those two small humans matter the most to me. I looked at our doctor and said, “You know what? This is hard.  All of this (as I point to my two kids) is hard.  Does Harper eat vegetables at every meal? No, she doesn’t. It’s not because I don’t want her to be healthy. It’s because I don’t want to have a fight about a pea or a carrot being on her plate just for once during a meal. Screen time? I used to be strict on screen time but now I am nursing and pumping around the clock for my one month old and then I need to wash all of those lovely parts so ya, she gets more screen time these days. How is she acting with her sister? Some days like a complete asshole to be honest. She thinks her sisters head is a fucking grape most days and wants to squeeze the life out of her like Agnes’ it’s so fluffy scene from Despicable Me. Other days she acts like the most amazing big sister you will ever see. It honestly is a crap shoot and I don’t know what will happen from minute to minute. At least I got them here to this doctors appointments to get their vaccines to make sure they are healthy.” She eased up a tiny bit after my crazy rant but not by much. I chalked it up to one of those moments of me agreeing to disagree before I started shouting ‘fed is best and it doesn’t matter if it’s by a boob or formula or a fucking chocolate bar’. Ease up!

So moms (and dads), let’s give ourselves a pat on the back, a break and perhaps a giant glass of wine because parenting small humans is real hard. Some days you will feel like you hit a grand slam and other days like you barely made it out of the dugout. And because every story needs a fabulous ending involving karma (or mine do anyway); my one month old pissed all over our pediatrician during her checkup. And just like that, justice was served! Now if you’d excuse me, I am going to go eat a chocolate bar because I deserve one!

Two is tough

IMG_8549.JPGTwo is tough. Like, really tough. I’m not talking about the terrible two’s either. I’m talking about the two small dictators that I live with. And to be fair, I have only been dealing with two for approximately 10 days. So I get it. I’m new to this, all of us are. We don’t have a routine established. We have a newborn who comes with all of those sleepless nights, the insane blowouts every few hours, and the non-stop all day cafe that are my boobs.

So how can this sweet little newborn be a dictator? For those exact reasons listed above. They somehow come out of the womb being dictators. They dictate when they eat, when they poop, when they pee, and when they cry. Next up, my legit dictator of a 4 year old. (Well, almost 4). She thinks she is the ruler of the tiny nation that is our household. She has always been bossy, strong-willed and knows what she wants and when she wants it. I have always said that all of these traits will come in handy in life, especially as a female in today’s work force, but right now?! Give me a damn break! She is tough, and only has been tougher because of Camryn entering the world. Harper has been absolutely lovely to Camryn so I am so happy to report on that piece. However with me? Some days she looks at me with these eyes of disgust (which eats away at my soul and gives me the most intense mom guilt) and other days she is genuinely so thrilled that she has a baby sister to stare at and “play” with. Basically just stare at because babies don’t do any sort of play.

In my short span of time with two, I haven’t done one errand with the two of them. I’m basically so damn afraid to. Unless if you count going through a drive-thru. Then if that is the case, gold stars for everyone! Hooray, we went to CVS to pick up medicine, Dunkin Donuts to get the bi-polar dictator some munchkins so she would leave me the fuck alone for 2 minutes while she ate them and that is about it.

The only other time I have ventured out with the leadership is day two of Camryns life where she had a doctors appointment. That appointment turned out to almost everything that I thought it would be. My child telling the nurse as we stood up to follow her to the room that she made her wait so long and basically what the hell was the hold up for? (Thanks, Harper.) It was in that very room when I asked Harper four hundred times to get off of the scale, stop trying to sit on the small midget-like wheely chair (in fear of her splitting her head open. Side note: why is that damn hazard the go to chair for doctors? Get one with back support and no damn wheels for christ sake!), and for her to stop taking 7 pairs of gloves that she looked at me and said “I don’t have to listen to you and I won’t and I will stomp on my baby”. Then, mini dictator decides she needs to nurse at that very moment. So what do I do? I cried. Yup, cried because that is apparently what you do when you don’t have the words to gently reprimand your firstborn child who just said they wanted to kill their sibling and the weight of the world is on your shoulders every single damn day because you’re a mom and that is just how it goes.

The picture above is from that same doctors appointment where Camryn was just 2 days old and Harper decided that she had to “pee so badly it’s gonna come out everywhere” and I couldn’t rush the two of them back in to the doctor’s office. Good thing I carry a potty, good thing my car was the first in the row so that everyone could see the show, and good thing at least one child was asleep. So, for me, right now, right this very moment…two is tough. The adjustment period has been hard. I haven’t been able to get Harper to school for 8am yet and stroll in about 9:30am every day because for the life of me I can’t get Harper, Camryn or myself dressed, fed, and out the door with any sort of grace.

So for now, I have a 4 year old bi-polar dictator that I will continue to live with as well as a mini newborn dictator. I have panic attacks just thinking about our first trip to the grocery store. Hello peapod services because why in the hell not? But first, I just have to get my husband the financial dictator on board with that decision!

To my firstborn

H and K

To my dearest Harper,

While I’m sorry that the era of just you and me is coming to a close, I’m going to stop every once in a while to remember this precious and beautiful time we have shared together. I will be forever grateful that you were the one who taught me how to be a mom. You, with your sweet but sassy demeanor, your enthusiastic and goofy nature, and your compassionate, empathetic and loving heart. You have showed me what the true meaning of loving someone unconditionally is and feels like.  And for that, I dedicate my very first blog post to you.  And yes, I know that you can’t read yet and I am sure if I told you that I dedicated something like this to you, you would expect something else.  Something more like a treat.

Until your baby sisters eardrums are fully developed, I am going to miss our loud and crazy singalongs during every car ride we take. I love nothing more than our jam sessions and that you love all types of music. Except country. Because honestly, who likes country? Your uncanny ability to memorize a tune and words within seconds after hearing a song only once and remember them the very next time you hear the song is impressive. Sadly, for me, having that same skill never translated over to perhaps memorizing hard algebra or calculus equations. So, hopefully, that will be different for you and it can work more in your favor.

These last few weeks it has really hit home that we are no longer going to be a family of three and very quickly will be a family of four. With your hugs lasting longer, your grips getting tighter, and you wanting to hold my hand and just be close by my side, hurts my heart. It really has just been you and me for such a long time and we both don’t know any other way. But what I do know is that you were my first and that will never change. I will never forget the moment that I heard your first cry and when you were placed on my chest for the first time.  It was an instant bond. A bond that no one can explain and only moms truly understand.  And it was in that instant where my life changed forever.

What an amazing big sister you’re going to be. Your little sister is going to be thrilled when she finds out that you’re the one she gets to look up to. She may not enjoy that you told me tonight you “didn’t want to be a family of four because that’s a lot of people and you only want three.” I’d be lying to you if I didn’t tell you that I’m nervous too. For many of the same reasons you are and for many that due to your age, you won’t understand. What I do know is that together as a team, we can face and overcome any obstacle. Why? Because we are strong, confident, bad-asses. You can count on your dad and I also raising your little sister how we raised you; strong, confident, and one hell of a bad-ass.

Harper, thank you for making me a mom.  It has been a hard and rewarding journey but I wouldn’t have changed a thing.  And while we continue on this journey and add a new member to our crazy and silly family I want you to always remember one thing;  you will always be my first.

 

So, we are doing this blogging thing!

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During my first pregnancy I wanted to start blogging. Blogging about the joys of motherhood, the ups and downs of being a new parent, working full-time, and just trying to figure out the meaning of life.  I figured I could squeeze in a blog post or two after nursing or when I was just up staring at my baby to make sure she was still breathing in the wee hours of the night.  I thought I at least had some time.  But really, who was I kidding?  I didn’t even have time to pee let alone keep up with a website.  Now, fast forward almost 4 years later. Pregnant for the second time, have an almost 4 year old, still have the same items on my plate if not more and I decide, let’s blog Korrinn.  What a great idea.  Well, here I am.  Blogging.

I came up with fatigued and fabulous for a name because I am forever wishing I got more sleep from the night before.  The vicious non sleep cycle of a mom continues to wreck havoc on my body.  That is basically where the fabulous part came in to play also. I am in awe of how moms can operate on a fairly high functioning level after having minimal hours of sleep. Except in the early newborn stages. Let’s be real, that it a fucking disaster and you aren’t keeping anything together. But in all honesty, until becoming a mom I didn’t know how awesome we all are. The things we manage, juggle, fix, do, etc. is incredible.

Have you ever heard of the mental load?  If you haven’t, take a second and google it. Basically moms are like computers and have about 50 billion browsers open at all times. There is rarely an off switch or pause sequence and you just keep going and going until you attempt to shut everything down at night.  Right, that time of day where you hop in to bed and just fall right to sleep.  Don’t know about you, but that is when I do my best ‘crazy’ thinking. What should I pack Harper for lunch tomorrow, what will the weather be like, is it a swim lesson day or gym day, when was the last time I took a shower?  It just never stops.

In the midst of all of the crazy, I decided that I needed to find a small piece of my life again before having kids. To stop with the inner mom guilt and try and do something for myself. So, here I am…doing this blogging thing.