sunday tantrums

not only did i throw a full-blown, raging hormone temper tantrum in the car last night, but my husband had to literally drag me to my vehicle this morning while i clawed every surface like a cat on the way to the bathtub.

okay. i exaggerate. my resistance was a little more passive.

i took my time peeling my hard boiled eggs. i carefully salted every single bite. i slupped and sipped my smoothie admiring the bouquet of flavors–peanut butter, blueberry, orange juice, spinach, yogurt. i rubbed oil on the girls’ feet. i went on a futile search for a safety pin to keep my shirt from gapping over my more-than-ample bosom. i kissed my husband. i kissed my girls. i kissed my girls again. i walked a few steps. i turned and looked at my adorable children. i walked a few more steps. i paused to answer evie’s heartbreaking question: “why does mommy go to work?” “to put that breakfast on the table.” eventually, i made my way to the car, turned it on, and drove away, my heart aching as it does most mornings.

i love my job. i really do. i help reunite immigrant families every day. i go home and i feel insanely good about what i did all day (and even though it doesn’t pay the rent, it pays in other ways). but for all it’s worth, i can’t shake this feeling of interminable guilt and sadness for leaving my girls motherless 10 hours a day, not to mention this feeling of being behind the wheel of a semi truck careening out of control.

we are fortunate enough to avoid the dreaded daycare scenario. my girls stay home with their grandmother or the nanny and their dad is ever present working in the upstairs office. really, it’s an ideal situation. but for three-and-a-half years after evie was born, i was the stay-at-home-mom/student. i was there to put band-aids on her owies. i made yummy, creative, healthy, pinterest-worthy meals. i went on walks. i took her to the park. i put her down for naps. i came up with creative art projects. i nursed her. i snuggled her when she was sick. i read her books. i talked to her about her days. i kept her play spaces clean. (yeah, i know; everything looks all leave-it-to-beaver perfect with a nice pair of rose-colored glasses on.) and now, now i’m 36 miles away in a completely different city, while someone else meets all their needs. it’s a control freak’s nightmare!

but it’s more than just a control issue. i struggle to balance my role in the home. i’m the primary breadwinner, commuting 45 minutes morning and evening, putting in 8-9 hours at the office. but i’m also the nursing mom, hyper attentive granola parent, who home-makes everything, exercises, cooks healthy meals from raw ingredients, and wears a friggin’ silk cape!

it’s a recipe for a “go home, sarah, you drunk” lock-me-up mental breakdown.

me, last night, in an enclosed vehicle, for 45 minutes. my poor husband.

and that’s what happened last night. after the circus-meets-bar-fight weekend i had (OMG, seriously, cat puke, dog pee, dog puke, cat pee, rowdy boys, clingy baby, hard-of-hearing father, diva fabulous sister, hot house, too much sugar, bloated mama, more dog pee, dog jumping, dog licking, yelling, rowdy boys again, soccer in the house, baby hit in face with ball, crying, screaming, red-faced, twitchy-eye angry mama, allergies, asthma, where’d my husband go?, tree chopping, snot, boogers, nothin’ to do but laugh, can i have a weekend redo?), facing another round of monday doldrums, i whined, sobbed, screeched, flailed, and flapped for a full 45 minutes, while my husband listened attentively and searched frantically in his bag of “right things to say that won’t make her screech again.” [oh my gosh. this is seriously a run-on sentence for the record books.] oh, and i also blubbered (ha!) about my weight because someone (you know who you are FAB!) looks gorgeous and i look like a much blobbier version of my former fit self. am i the only nursing mom on earth who puts on weight while nursing?!?!

remove silk cape. don straight jacket.

me, again, after my “mr. toad’s wild ride” kind of weekend.

i’m sure most moms, working or not, can relate. parenting is the balancing trick of balancing tricks. the guy walking over the grand canyon ain’t got nothin’ on parents. and i haven’t even touched on the matter of my severely unbalanced relationship with my husband, god bless his expertly chiseled abs and biceps. most nights count as a success if we’re able to watch a 30-minute episode of modern family before we drag our half-dead carcasses off to bed. forget conversation. forget intimacy (gasp!). forget date nights.

but back to it, i’m sucking at the balancing trick. i feel like the fat kid on the teeter totter. and no matter how hard i try, i cannot get the stupid teeter totter to balance and my fat ass keeps hittin’ the dirt with a resounding “thunk” and puff of dust. for every success i have in the immigration realm, there’s a failure at home. and for every family reunited, mine feels like it slips farther away. i know this all slightly (uber) melodramatic. it’s monday. i’m down. i miss my family after a less-than-relaxing three-day weekend. it will all seem better when i park the car in the garage again at 6pm. but i’d be lying if i didn’t admit that this is not the first, second, or third time i’ve sobbed to my husband about this subject.

and we’re both kind of at a loss. i have to work. i can’t be home with my kids. and even if i could, i know i would be wishing i was back in the office, at least part of the week. we both vacillate between looking forward to the next year when things will be better and trying to live in the present moment.  we’re getting whiplash!

normally, i like to end my posts with some sort of conclusion. but this is one story that doesn’t have a conclusion. i have no answers, no solutions, no advice for other parents. i know other parents struggle like we do. we’re not unique. we’re not special. and perhaps hoping for a remedy is delusional and this is just the eternal, interminable struggle of all parents. so, for now, i’ll pop my antacids, sniff my relaxation oils, and keep on keepin’ on. and maybe, just maybe, if some time during your equally frenetic day you find time to offer suggestions or advice or if you just want to commiserate, please do so. gracias in advance.

and…over a year later, i’m back.

no apologies for my hiatus. usually, i offer some lame excuse for my extended absence from the blogosphere. this time, my departure was voluntary and necessary. aaron and i started to feel like technology was getting in the way of living life. so, other than maintaining email and a facebook account, i, somewhat by accident, peeled myself away from the fly paper of social media. and now, either because i’m a dumb fly back for more or because i’ve got the writing bug again or because life has been too good not to share, i’m back.

it certainly hasn’t been a boring year. i was living in mexico, now i live in michigan. i was a pregnant mother of one, now i’m a walking milk jug and mother of two. i gave birth at home, y’all!! i was quasi unemployed, now i am a full-time nonprofit attorney. i was poor, now i am still poor. my husband was spending his days in dusty mexican archives, now he writes 8-9 hours a day in our dusty home office. i was a stay-at-home mom, now i leave my kids in the hands of others 10 hours a day, 4 days a week. we used to drive a toyota carola, now we drive a scion xb. i used to work out daily to jillian michaels, now i’m lucky if that happens once a week (hello, cellulite). oh, how life has changed in the last year and i’m sure, eventually, i’ll find time to write about all of it.

but for today, allow me to reintroduce myself, since it has been over a year since i last posted. and even if you haven’t forgotten who i am, the passing of a year is invariably transformative and i’m sure it will change the tenor of this blog and my writing.

i am still a mom, a wife, a woman, an attorney, a traveler, a humanitarian, a liberal, and a crunchy hippie. i still have tattoos (including a brand new sleeve from mos eisleys’ eric!) and a nose piercing. but now i work as a nonprofit immigration attorney (a.k.a. a bleeding heart). i spend my days using the limited u.s. immigration resources to reunite families, while also trying to keep my own family up and running, none of which would be possible without the help of my Amazing mother-in-law (yes, amazing with a capital A because, folks, no lie, she’s Amazing) and my superstar teenage nanny. i favor the “if it feels natural, do it” approach to life and parenting. this means our queen-size bed is filled with four hot bodies nearly every night, one of whom is most always attached to my boob; constantly seeking and choosing a natural alternative to the unnatural; consciously consuming; leading an environmentally friendly life; cloth diapering; homemaking everything we possibly can (don’t you worry; i’ll share recipes and product suggestions); parenting with quiet voices and loving embraces; seeking out the rare husband and wife moment; and really this list could go on indefinitely.

this blog will somehow chronicle all of the above. i realize it defies the written law of blog writing, waxing poetic about so many varying aspects of life, ranging from immigration reform to the best way to strip ammonia from a cloth diaper. but in a way, i hope it will all harken back to my “if it feels natural, do it” approach to my life journey. it is also my hope, and i will shamelessly admit this, to convert you all to my earth-loving, hippie lifestyle. i welcome comments, emails, and helpful suggestions.