The world's best loved parasites

Today I was thinking about when I was pregnant with Claire and I read that if I didn’t eat enough calcium that the baby would leach what she needed from my bones. Eeeeuw. That made me feel like I was hosting a parasite. If I didn’t take care of myself, my kids would suck what they needed from me anyway. And guess what? I have learned that it doesn’t stop after childbirth! They still suck every ounce of energy, creativity, patience and time from me whether or not I have it to spare. They can’t help it. They are little kids.

Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely adore my children. But with Dave in Virginia this week, my patience is stretched thin. They are wild, whiny (where did they get THAT?) and fighting with each other and they are driving me to a padded cell. Remind me again how I did this for 15 months while he was stuck in the big sandbox (I don’t even like to say the “I” word anymore).

But ya know, it’s hard to take care of myself when--get out your hanky here—the few friends I have made have moved out of the hotel and into houses, I’ve been living in hotels for nearly 8 weeks, I have no house, I’m getting chunky from eating in restaurants all this time (not healthy), my hula hoop is in storage, I’m out of my blood pressure meds and I have to wait for them to be mailed across the ocean, I can no longer use childcare on post except in emergencies (due to the expected influx of 600 families this spring and summer. Thank you, Africom.) and my chocolate supplies are running dangerously low (Get this girl 200 CCs of Godiva—STAT!). Yeah, it bites.

Ah, but back to the kids. I do love them. They can be so sweet that they melt my heart, looking it me with those big blue eyes that they got from their daddy and saying how they love me. Sometimes they are so cute I could eat them with a spoon. Like when Luke says “very” as an adverb (“Mom, I don’t very like it.” Or “I don’t very want to go there.”) Oh yeah, and when he calls Chip and Dale “Chicken Dale.” Or when Claire comes home, as she did today, with a card she wrote for me proclaiming me the world’s greatest mom. That is a title I value more than winning any Oscar, Grammy or Pulitzer. And I treasure it, too, because I know that one day she will be a teenager and I will be demoted to “the meanest mom ever”. That is, if I’m doing it right.

Tonight my job description included “doctor” since I had to perform minor surgery on Claire’s infected and nearly impacted earring with a dental pick and tweezers. I know it hurt, but she is SOOOOOO dramatic. She screamed like I never did even during natural childbirth. All I had was some Neosporin lip gel to put on her earlobes. I hope I did okay. A hug and a story seemed to make it all better.

I guess I played doctor twice today. Luke fell in the park and scraped his arm on a stick in a scummy pond (yikes, speaking of parasites…) but I got him cleaned up. He chose the pink Hello Kitty bandaids. Whatever.

And by the way, going to the park was about the best self-care I have given myself this week. It was sunny for a change and I demanded that we get out with our sandbox toys. Being solar powered as I am, I realize that if I don’t get my sun I get grumbly. Now I understand why Germans love to sunbathe nude in public parks (they have a much freer attitude about nudity than us Puritanical Americans. But that is fodder for another blog). I think it is that they want to soak up sunshine into every pore before the clouds come back again. Which they will. A lot.

Tomorrow the kids really want me to take them to Legoland since Claire is off school for a teacher work day. I guess I will go. It is supposed to be sunny again. I’m not thrilled about an hour and a half on the autobahn, but if it is not wet it should be okay. You know how that autobahn scares me. If my beloved, adorable parasites are well-behaved in the back seat, that will help a lot.

Wish me luck.