It's been almost four weeks since I've blogged.  The truth is, I've been pretty busy, but that's not the whole truth.  Part of the reason that I haven't blogged has been that I've struggled, really struggled with how to express how I've been feeling....I've been home with the girls for three weeks now and I can sum the experience up in one word:  agony.  Okay, I know that I'm going to sound cliche here, but I really didn't think it was going to be this hard - I mean it's not like I've never spent any time with my kids before - I spent every waking moment that I wasn't at work with them.  But somehow, this all day, every day gig is a whole lot different.  The first day we were home, Gracie cried and wanted to know when she was going back to her old school, with her old teacher and her old friends, and as Steve drove off to work, I wanted to cry too, wondering when I could go back to my old job, my old boss, my old friends....Slowly but surely, the girls and I are adjusting, although I'm sure you'd think I was lying about that if you could have seen me on Saturday afternoon, sitting on the floor of the girls' room, sobbing and wishing that there was some way, any way, that I could get my job back, the one where I left the girls at daycare, drove to a building by myself, and quietly wrote code all day and didn't even answer the phone if what I was working on was too important to stop in the middle...

The ugly truth of the matter is that I have absolutely no control over my kids.  Now part of this is just inherent to the circumstances - control and a baby and a pre-schooler are all mutually exclusive.  You can't plan every minute of every day when you have no idea what time the little darlings are going to wake up, when (read if, very big if) they're going to take a nap, and if (read if, very big if) they're going to eat what you make for lunch or breakfast or if they're going to decide that the food they loved yesterday is now the equivalent of eating dead bugs (or maybe even live bugs).  But, my confession here is that my lack of control isn't just the normal kid stuff that you can't control, it's more like a visit from the Super Nanny kind of lack of control, a visit where Nanny Jo Frost shakes her head and says, "Boy, does this family need my help" as you see video of me in the background sitting dejected at the kitchen table while Gracie runs screaming and cussing through the house, breaking toys,  and Abigail sits in her high chair in a wet diaper crying, throwing mushed up baby food on the filthy floor.  Okay, it's not quite that bad.....but there are times it feels that way...

So, why haven't I thrown myself off the nearest tall building?  Well, I've had help and encouragement over the last three weeks from all kinds of likely and unlikely people.  There was the email from my project manager reminding me that I was actually good at what I did before I quit to become a mom; there were the calls from Virginia just to check on me and to remind me that her daughter still has tough days, six months into her stay-at-home mom stint; my sister holding Abigail and playing with Gracie while we were visiting last week, just so I could finish Abbie's birthday dress and not reminding me that I shouldn't have procrastinated finishing it; there were kind comments on my latest scrapbook layouts that made me smile and helped me remember that there are some things I do well; there was the kind, kind lady at Winn-Dixie who single-handedly coaxed Gracie out of a major fit pitch with an M&M cookie and then, after Gracie said thank you in a voice choked with dying sobs, said as an aside to me "They really are beautiful girls - you're doing a great job"; there was the checkout lady at Wal-mart who told me to have a blessed day which made me pause and realize that I truly am blessed.  And then, there's Steve.  Who has taken the brunt of my anguish the last three weeks.  He's listened, without judging, every day when he calls on his way home from work and I tell him that yet again, we've had a less than stellar day.  He's held me when I cried about whether I have in fact made the right choice.  He's sat down with Gracie and talked to her about listening when people (ummm, me) ask her to do something.  And he's still here - he hasn't up and "r u n n d   o f t"

All these angels in the infield have kept me here and at least partially (all though that may be arguable) sane.  My eureka moment came last Saturday, though.  The girls and I were in Wal-mart, shopping for the zillionth time during the week, because I inavariably forgot something.  I heard a voice call out my name and as I turned around, I saw the directory of the girls' old daycare.  "How's it going at home?"  she asked and as I answered, "Not so great...", I felt my eyes well up for umpteenth time in the last month, as I, yet again, faced what I felt was my abject failure.  She smiled at me and said, "I know it's hard."  And there's more truth in that statement than you can imagine....she raised two boys of her own who are now grown with kids of their own, then she and her husband adopted three little girls and a little boy and are right now fostering two more.  Yep, you read that right, six kids, all under the age of eight.   And, then of course, there's the fact that she runs a daycare.  I'd pretty much consider her an expert in pre-school aged kids...Then she said something that really struck a chord with me...."You know, Daphne, I hate to use this word, but the girls, and Gracie, particularly, have been institutionalized - she's used to a set schedule and structure.  And you are, too.  I've always thought that when you're home with the kids, you need to get ready for the day, just like you did when you were going to work."  Wham!  That hit me in the small part of my brain that was still functioning like a ton of bricks.  I had spent the last three weeks trying to have good days with the girls.  I was planning activities - we went to the library and the water fountain and to the park, but I wasn't planning and organizing the little stuff - the sippie cups and the clothes for the next day; dinners and breakfasts; grocery lists and the mail; what to do with Gracie in between activities - and that was the stuff that was overwhelming me by the end of the day.  I guess I thought that if I took care of the big stuff, the little stuff would fall into place.  I realized it's the other way around - if I take care of the little stuff, the big stuff is a lot easier.  So, on Sunday night, I got ready for Monday, just like I would have if I was going to work - decided what I was going to wear, made the girls' their breakfast drinks and stuck them in the fridge, and planned out what things I could do with Gracie to keep her and me from losing control and patience.  And it worked - not flawlessly, mind you - there were still moments when the day seemed interminably long, but, for the first time since I've been home, I didn't cry at all and I didn't think, even once, about how badly I want to return to work.  And the rest of the week, at least so far, has gone pretty well. 

I am, by nature, I guess, somewhat a "fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants" kind of person - really, I don't plan or schedule very well.  I make lists (lots and lots and lots of lists - I think it's a genetic thing...) but most of the time, I lose the lists before I can do what's on them (or Abbie eats them or Gracie colors them so thoroughly that I can't read them).  I usually just kind of wander around aimlessly.  But, that's just not going to work for our lives right now.  Will it always be this way?  I don't know - if it is, it is.  If it gets easier, then so be it, but if it doesn't, I'll keep working this hard to make our days go smoother.  My sanity and the girls' happiness are worth it.  Have I made the right decision about staying home with them?  I still don't know the answer to that yet.  If you'd asked me last week, I'd have said categorically, no.  This week, I'm ready to concede that it's possible that I did the right thing and that, at least, is improvement. 

Now, for those of you who read the blog to look at pictures, I won't disappoint you.  I haven't spent the last three weeks so sad that I couldn't pull out my camera....

Here's a couple of Abigail's first birthday shoot:






and a couple from our trip to Memphis

Taligating Cousin Style


Six Pony Tails


Have a great day!