Breeding in Captivity.

On the left - What I can potentially accomplish on a daily basis.

On the Right...what my husband helps me do.

Notice there is more there on the right?


Thanks Mr. Freeze. I *heart* you big time. Not just for all you help me do but for all you help me realize I shouldn't do.


I have been lax in my blogging. Or rather I've been under the palm of four children and a captive audience to their every joy and whimper, which leaves me only seconds of time to do something like type a word or pee or perhaps sleep (oh sleep, how desperately I miss you.)

I haven't taken photos for weeks, I have written but not blogged for almost two months. It shows in the strained voice and heavy shoulders I carry through the house near daily. When I have had a few moments to write I've put my efforts in the exercise of writing rather than focusing on real life doings because there is so much going on, I couldn't even begin to pinpoint what to share here. It was just too overwhelming (and we know there is already enough overwhelm going on in my life, writing should not stress me out.) So I took a break. I didn't like it but it's what I needed (more on that later.)

In preparing to write today, still unsure on what imperfect point to focus on I found something in my recent photos (see above) that reminded me how breeding in captivity can push us to do crazy things. Like, um take on too much.

My husband, bless him, has been working at home two days a week and just added a third (thank you to his employer!) just as the woman I'd been paying to help out once a week quit suddenly - and here we thought we'd be "getting ahead" on this whole mom being alone with lots of kids thing (hahaha says the Universe!)

Although I love my husband deeply and am so grateful for this help, and I'd love to say he is doing it simply because he can't face to be away from his kids, that is not why he's asked his employer for these days at home. Simply put, it's because without him home his wife and kids would probably not survive. As a disabled mom of four kids under 7, with one car between us and no family within a thousand (or more) miles, the truth is I desperately need him. We've gone through over a dozen paid helpers (doulas, housekeepers, babysitters, nannies, combos of the four) in the last 5 years and though many were good or even excellent they are always and forever temporary. They are not family, though they sometimes feel like it. They care for our kids, but they don't put them in the same place as their own family, my kids are not a priority for them, my kids are a job to them. A job they can quit at any time. And do. Often without notice. This is not the village we expected when we started this parenting thing.

When we decided to have our first child, Dee, we had seven friends & relatives within driving distance that we assumed would be around to help ('cause, y'know they SAID they would.) By the time Dee was born we had one family member that we saw once a week. One we saw once a month. The rest wouldn't even talk to us.

By the time I became pregnant with Pinky I'd had enough of the isolation of my expat life. My choice became clear after a visit back to The States, where I cried from the moment I woke up to the time 24 hours later when I arrived back in Amsterdam. Aside from Mr. Freeze I couldn't find a single reason to go back to Fryslân, and it broke my heart. In visiting my American tribe I'd realized I could not do this alone, didn't want to and was going to do something about it.

When I was five months pregnant with Pinky I announced I was going "home" and was hopeful my (not yet) husband Mr. Freeze would join us, after two days to think about it, he agreed to my crazy plan. In the span of 12 weeks we got married, cobbled, collated and copied mass amounts of paperwork, got Mr. Freeze immunized and x-rayed, got his paperwork submitted to the US authorities, hoped they said it was OK to come back with me (oh THANK YOU consular filing) packed everything we could bring with us (not much), sold everything else (or gifted or threw it away) got him a job, arranged for a midwife stateside, got plane tickets, and left acquiring an apartment in the hands of a colleague stateside. We then moved, while 9 months pregnant, to a City I'd only been in once before.

We landed in Milwaukee in mid-November of 2007, over 2,000 miles shy of "home", far from the friends and family on the West Coast I'd so desperately wanted my kids to know. It was a compromise. It was where the job was. It was a place I could speak my language fluently, drive and get a bank account without help. A place I could be a little bit more independent and feel a little less crazy and isolated. I could make more friends without the language barrier, we could visit family in the West Coast more often, we (I) could have a social life here. I could get around and DO things. Plus… It was temporary, we'd be here three years and then go "home". At least, that was the idea.

Five years later and we are still here, with little more help than we had in the Netherlands. My social life, challenged by years of severe health issues and now hobbled by the seemingly insurmountable challenges of getting four kids out the door - much less across the country - is in ruins. I haven't been back to the West coast in almost two years and my kids have only met two of their Stateside relatives and two of my closest friends (who had to come here to see them.) We have two great friends we see a few times a month but often our "face to face" interactions, even with our friends in the area, are via Skype.

Which brings me back to my husband. Despite the enormous relief I have of knowing I'm not alone at least three days a week, I noticed that on his days working from home I felt like I did *MORE* when he was around. I started to get really concerned. Why isn't having him home helping me find rest? Why does it feel like I'm working *HARDER*?  It wasn't that he was doing nothing. Far from it…he busts his ass as hard as I do.

And so I came up with an experiment...

For two days I wrote down every poopy diaper, kissed boo boo, broken up fight, prepared meal, project, household chore, phone call, email and text I performed in the service of my family.

The first day I was alone for 6 solid hours with four kids, two of whom are still breastfeeding on demand - which means I'm immobile for long periods throughout the day feeding babies.

The second day my husband was home, so I technically was sharing the load with another person.

And I found something interesting….

I do in fact do more when he is around…because…drum roll please…he is around. This means I CAN do more. When he is here I'm not holding one or two babies for hours, I'm not sitting on the couch nursing two boys, trying desperately not to wake them when the both fall, heads heavy, into a puppy pile on my lap and take their only nap of the day. With him here I realized it's not that he doesn't do anything, or that he doesn't do enough, it's that with his help I'm able to do MORE. Which means I'm working twice as hard. I'm doing all the things I can't do with a baby (or two) in my arms. I'm folding laundry, I'm putting it away, I'm making more elaborate meals, I'm doing more projects, I'm more present with my older kids. Plus I'm doing all the stuff I'd be doing if he wasn't around! It would be awesome if I could say this was a good thing, to be able to do more, but when a mama is already past her reserves and adds more on top of her already insurmountable pile of "things to do" then it's a small kind of torture.

I let him in on my revelation. His words "Well that's not fair!"

Indeed.

Unfortunately when parenting in the very definition of a nuclear family, that's how it goes.

But the experiment was not all bad news, in fact I learned a few really important things:

1. I do a HELL OF A LOT, even on the days I think I've accomplished "nothing". (I can drop the mommy guilt now, and so can you, I'm giving you a free pass - holy shit moms do a LOT.)

2. I do a lot more "fun" stuff when he is around. (My man makes me a better person simply by being there. And ultimately that is why were are together, to make each other better, together.)

3. Breeding in Captivity has it's drawbacks. (Really, don't do it unless you've got mad support- like at least 30 people who say they'll be around - cause chances are you'll get 1/4 of that... or you've got a lot of money and can buy yourself a nanny that never will leave, it's just ridiculous otherwise.)

4. I need to do LESS when Mr. Freeze is home. Trying to cram that much more into my day is doing none of us any favors. I need to use that time to refresh myself and honor his hard work and gift of time by not squandering it on doing more than I'm able. I need to let go of my anal retentive housekeeping standards and enjoy my kids even more (and my husband for that matter) while they are around. Breeding in captivity has it's unique challenges but working yourself to ruin, when people who love you are trying to help you, doesn't have to be one of them.