parenthood

Enough

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

as they grow older
it’s no longer life and death
over midnight cries

now? supply, demand
business modeled parenting
what if we run out?

what can i buy or give
to make them happy, love me?
which–time or gifts?

it’s never enough
they’re either spoiled or loved
often hard to tell

give them the world
so they’ll toss it back to me
demand better one

it’s human nature
to aspire for what’s not there
i’m never enough

love should be enough
i’m up nights loving too much
(they never see this)

as they grow older
i miss the crying days when
i knew they loved me

a hug was enough
to make it through a tough time
and they were all mine

no one will say this
they’ll say how much easier
they’re independent

independent, yes
from our once easy embrace
to face life’s demands

and to demand more
to make me question myself
will this be enough?

no simple response
to parenthood dilemmas
enough guilt tonight

It Never Gets Easier

/ lovizmytrio / 1 Comment

to think i once heard
babies are hard to manage
eat, shit, drink, sleep, cry?

let’s try on costumes–
fall party, field trip, grades due
count how our days go:

back-talk homework fight
second piano practice
three girls showering

second failing math??
not a word from failed teacher
guilt, failing parents

baby barely writes
always a Daddy story
spells like a Spaniard

oldest keeps me up
stressed– her chronic detention
Daddy leaves in huff

garbage disposal
fix in the house that plagues us
that we cannot sell

let me stack my plate
with conferences tomorrow
Spanish class Thursday

Halloween Friday
filled with makeup and drinking
(i need a disguise)

to hide from this life
this balancing act of love
we call parenthood

In This Moment

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in this moment

I can find the pace I need to get me there stronger
Mythili can “read” a whole page in her elaborate story
Riona can say “I wuv you” seven times
Isabella can brush her top teeth by herself

and someone on the other side of the world
or right across town
is giving birth to a perfectly healthy baby
while another lost soul is pointing a gun to his head

in this moment

I can hear Alanis Morisette motivating my pedals
my students can see twenty pictures on Google
of the cedar trees they’ve never heard of
the teachers can track me down for brownies

and someone right across town
or on the other side of the world
is pounding a woman’s skull into the drywall,
while another is handing a ten-year-old his first pair of shoes.

in this moment

I will live
I will love
I will remember what I have
what we all have
(somewhere within us)

Every Moment

/ lovizmytrio / 2 Comments

I remember nights without sleep
and cries without consolation
diaper bags and strollers a must
for even the simplest outings

now their once-wispy hair is
tied back in tight braids and
their cries are aimed at each other
with bitter words to match.

a blur it’s been, baby years gone,
relinquished first to toddlerhood
and now we’re full-on childhood
their lives zipping by me

before I can even sit on the swing
with their daddy and reminisce
the time that is happening now,
they will be all grown up.

(I will remember this when I
hold my hand to a feverish forehead,
when they pitch a fit and act their age,
when I think every moment is too much)
because every. moment. counts.

I’ve Been There

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

he has carried her in the crook of his arm
to the point of exhaustion for both
yet
even long distance I can hear her cries,
I can feel the stress rising up over phone lines
and all I can reply is, “I’ve been there.”

she handles it as flippantly as a new mother can,
mentioning only her concerns about the schedule,
the lack of sleep,
the looming return to work,
but he is not so sure
and when she tells me she must go
it is not because of the crying (now settled)
(innocent, newborn) baby,
but because he is stressed.

and all I can reply is, “I’ve been there,”
knowing the words will
never be enough to
cover the overwhelming burden
(of love)
that comes with becoming parents

Ten Random Thoughts

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

1. Though I thought I really had earned that 99-cent bag of Cheetos after my eight-mile run, I decided, as always, that it’s better to share it with my girls. Everything is.
2. Libraries are the best places I know. From browsing through the online catalog and reserving books and CDs to their wide variety of audio books and DVDs, I can think of few places where our tax money is better spent. It’s a shame more people don’t think like me.
3. A frugalista’s version of a car wash is to squeegee all the windows at the gas station. It’s not like we need to see out of the doors or the hood, so why do those need to be cleaned? Ever?
4. Having a handful of kids’ DVDs can make the weekend much more relaxing.
5. Why didn’t I think five years sooner to give the girls a bath BEFORE dinner? That way they’re mostly ready for bed before we even eat and their hair dries on its own. Duh.
6. Having second-degree-burned myself as a child (resulting in plastic surgery and permanent scarring), now when I make a quick burn mistake I have catlike reflexes, rushing to the sink and running my hand in ice-cold water, preventing another scar. Or, everything happens for a reason.
7. iTunes and iPods are the greatest modern inventions. In ten minutes I made the perfect playlist for running with an iPod that fits in my tiny yoga-pants pocket. Remember the days of mixed tapes and Walkmans?
8. Always go for the sale items. Today I saved 30%. Tomorrow I’ll have money to pay my bills. So simple.
9. Cheap wine (my favorite is Barefoot) tastes as good as expensive wine if you share it with someone you love.
10. The only thing I remember from that Life’s Little Instructions book my mom gave me when I graduated high school: “Marry the right person. It will determine 90% of your happiness in life.” Almost twelve years later, I must concur.

On Valentine’s Day

/ lovizmytrio / Leave a comment

here we are
in our pajamas
munching on
leftover tea sandwiches
(mozzarella tomato,
tuna salad,
strawberry cream cheese)
before six o’clock
on Valentine’s Day

just hours beyond
a house filled with girls
in dress-up clothes
(dresses with puffy sleeves
and hems at the ankles)
who sipped from
white china cups
and licked pink
cream cheese frosting
off heart-shaped
red velvet cupcakes.

there are five of us now,
poor Daddy outnumbered
(even the dog is a girl)
and we share a box
of chocolates for dessert
given to our oldest daughter
(who celebrated seven years today)
by her boyfriend,
each girl picking out
a different fruity flavor.

and I think, as my youngest
takes a bite she doesn’t like and
brings her chocolate to my lips,
how unromantic this is,
yet
so very filled with love
on Valentine’s Day.

How I Spend My Saturdays

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Once upon a time, Bruce and I used to sleep in until almost ten. We’d enjoy each other for a little while and share a shower, then inevitably head over to the local LePeep, which changed each time we moved—four times in our first four years together. He always got a skillet or a combo of eggs, bacon, peasant potatoes, and pancakes, and I used to order the eighteen-wheeler, which had French toast, the same famous potatoes, eggs, and a side of some type of pork that I would quickly shove over to him. We also loved to order the fancy $3 drinks, hot chocolate for me and a mocha for him. By noon, we were stuffed and ready to enjoy an afternoon of going to a movie, walking around the mall, or picking up a few groceries for our mid-week, mostly “freelance” (make what you want) meals. Then we would go out for dinner—our favorites were Chili’s, Old Chicago, or Noodles and Company. We might rent a movie after dinner, stay up late, and repeat the whole process on Sunday.

How foreign it all seems now. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had three babies, because I’m old, or because I’m too set in an early-morning routine, but even if my girls sleep past 6:30, there’s no way I ever will again. Now I might drink a glass of water while I cuddle on the couch with Mythili or remind the girls relentlessly to go potty and get dressed while I sip coffee and fix up a breakfast of homemade pancakes. (A restaurant for breakfast? Paying $3 for a cup of Joe? My flaxseed whole wheat w/applesauce pancakes beat anything I’ve ever bought at LePeep, and I make my own “mocha” with a scoop of hot cocoa in my morning coffee). Then we might linger before our first activity, which could include anything from going to Target to buy yet another birthday gift for a party Isabella’s invited to, taking the girls to a swim or skating lesson, or visiting the library to pick up the books we have on order and the movies we’ll need to entertain the girls so we can have ninety minutes of peace. We’ll come home and fix sandwiches with our homemade bread and set out our grass-fed beef for a meal that we chose from a recipe and whose ingredients we put on the grocery list a week ago. The afternoon will be filled with girls playing outside in the cul-de-sac or whining about using the computer or, like today, in a line of cars around a Lowe’s waiting to pick up Girl Scout cookies, and we’ll finally settle everyone down for a pre-dinner bath and movie, a delicious home-cooked meal, and a nice early bed time. Bruce and I will stay up “late” watching our own Netflix movie, hitting the hay around ten.

Just like they always say: having a child changes everything. Having three makes you change your whole routine, your whole attitude towards what’s important, where your money goes, and how you spend your Saturdays.