...When You Don't Know Who You Are

I'm having an identity crisis!  All day, every day, this is what I hear:


"Mommy, I'm Tinkerbell.  You are Captain Hook."
"Mommy, I'm Elsa.  You be Anna."  (I have yet to have the privilege of being Elsa).
"Mommy, I'm Harmony.  You are Tender Heart Bear."
"Mommy!  I Batman!  You be Blue Beetle!"  (I still don't even know who Blue Beetle is).

Here in the Hnatiuk home, we are in a relentless world of make-believe.  From one hour to the next, I cannot remember who I am.  I used to think it was pretty cool when I got to be the "step mother" figure.  This way, I could occasionally get the "princess" to do something I wanted her to do.  A few days ago, however, my daughter taught me the arguably best role-play ever.  EVER.  (How come no one in the mommy world filled me in on this one)?  In case you haven't learned the secret, here it is: Let your child be the control figure and YOU be the measly Insignificant.  Go all out.  Set him/her up with a crown, a throne, a scepter.  You will receive chore after chore, task after task.  And before you can snap your fingers Mary Poppins style, you will have cleaned half the house!

I recently read The Awakening by Kate Chopin.  The protagonist expresses her point of view, arguing, "I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself..."  What is the difference between sacrificing your life for your children and sacrificing your self?  I am not going to dissect this literary quote, but I will say this: as a stay-at-home mom, you need to make a conscious effort to keep yourself intact.  There are mothers I know who have put forth valiant efforts to do so.  A.D. once encouraged a small group of moms to do weekly guided journaling, exploring questions such as, "What interests did I pursue prior to having children?"  Though I never find the time to journal, I still reflect on these questions of personal exploration. 

I suppose my identity bleeds through in our make believe sessions.  Pretending to be Captain Hook, I am reminded that I am often the "bad guy."  When I'm Princess Anna, I remember that I, too, like to shove chocolate in my face.  Being Tender Heart is pretty cool, because I like to be the leader.  (R.M. can attest to that)!  Lastly, Blue Beetle reminds me that I... still need to figure out who the heck that is.


Her identity crisis
July 2014

His identity crisis
July 2014



The baby's crisis
July 2014

It's nice to rediscover the elements of my identity that have fallen out of reach.  I have a few mini escapes that offer me a foothold to my self.  For instance, I got to teach a mini lesson in C.D.'s classroom; I get to moderate a super cool book club (we'll be celebrating our third anniversary this October!); I get to beat my husband in Hive... but keep losing to him in Galaxy Trucker.  These were my pre-children interests, and it's invigorating to still take part in them.  It's truly thrilling, though, to have your daughter ask you to play "teacher," to see your kids light up at the mention of going to the library, and to witness sibling rivalries emerge over games like Elefun.

My awakening occurs at any hour during the night by three little people who need me to be "Mommy."  So let my prayer during this season be, Lord, give me the endurance I need to minister to these little souls you have entrusted to me.  Like Samuel, help me respond to Your calling for me.

 

 

 

This sweet baby hangs out all day.

 

 

 


Noah turned two!

 

... When There Just Aren't Any Words

The bright side of not being able to nurse:
Tot and sister get to help!

We all know there are bad days... and then there are bad days.  I find myself having more of the latter these past few weeks.  Health issues that have led me to wean my baby are part of the problem. The adjustment to taking care of three kids is a contributing factor, too.  And then the I'm-so-tired-I-can't-remember-when-my-baby-was-born-so-please-don't-ask-me reality often turns a bad day into a bad day.  For these days, there just aren't any words.

But I found an exception.

I recently sent a text that read: "Yesterday was such a challenging day, I almost had a breakdown.  Instead I just said the 'F word' a hundred times."  Not one of my proudest moments.

Usually my kids are the ones who leave me speechless, but, occasionally my husband does, too.  For instance:

1.  After the two toddlers were in bed, my husband was on the floor "playing" with the baby.  He gave me a sheepish grin.  "Guess what I just did?"  Grin got bigger.  "I just gave Gus some chocolate ice cream!"  You just gave my 3-week-old baby chocolate ice cream?!  No words. 

"The only time I don't get mad when I share my bacon is when I get to
share it with my kids." -Nick
June 2014

2.  I momentarily set the baby on the living room chair, which spins, so I could be hands-free and attend to something else.  Miriam and Noah flocked toward Gus.  They began spinning him on the chair.  When I reported this incident to Nick later that evening, he gave me another sheepish grin.  "Oh, I taught them how to spin the baby."  Oh, really?  Did you?  Dead silence. 

3.  Noah is entirely obsessed with pirates, carrying a foam pirate sword with him wherever he goes, including his bed.  A dozen times a day, he hands me a sword and says, "I'm Peter Pan!  You're Captain Hook!  Fight, fight!"  We start slashing our swords.  Recently he began narrating, "I cut off your arm!  I chop off your leg!  I cut off your head!"  Again, when I report this to Nick, he said, "Yeah, I know.  That's how we play."  Ah, no big deal.  Maybe dismemberment is just a one-year-old boy thing?  Zip.  Zilch.  Nada.

Our Pirate, June 2014

We've been blessed to have three kids before our fourth anniversary.  I would compare these four years to a merry-go-round that induces morning motion sickness.  Nick, I bet, would compare them to the most thrilling roller coaster of his life.

"Mary Poppins"  June 2014

When Nick and I first met in a college seminar class, he claims he was attracted to me because I showed up late, in sweats, with coffee, and sat in the back corner every day.  He's lucked out, because I still show up late, wear sweats every day, and am attached to a cup of coffee.  Clearly, I was not interested in this class and paid no attention to anyone else who was in it.  So when he approached me after class to ask me to a dance, I politely had to ask, "Who are you?"

Eleven years later, I can go on and on about who he is.  But I'll leave it at this: Nick loves being a husband, and he loves being a tot.  Even on my worst days, I still win because he is my "Free Parking" in Monopoly, my "Province" in Dominion, and my "city" in Settlers.  (That's top-notch romance).  I'm grateful for all the times Nick has left me speechless, because those are the moments of impact. They are the memory-builders.

So, for all those times when there just aren't any words, those Basement Words will have to do: I love you.

6.26.2010