I know I usually post Friday Funnies to round up the week but I was so moved by a story today that I HAD to change gears. Also with the weekend upon us, date nights/days are surely a possibility (especially since tomorrow is Sweetest Day).
Under the title of this blog you see the words woman and mommy. I've shared a lot about the mommy side this week so let me jump to the other side for this Friday. Believe me I am all woman (at least what the media deems woman). If I could live in any era it would be the fifties. If I could wear anything it would be a dress. I love makeup. I am addicted to Lifetime series and movies. I celebrate Sweetest Day. I love cooking and baking. I love babies. And on. And on. And on. However, my better half is not the woman I am. Rather, my better half is, GASP, a man. And OMG do I love that man.
This man is my husband. He got a whole lot of trouble the night he met me. I was 19 when I met him and full of more craziness than all three of my kids combined. He accepted that craziness. He accepted my flaws and my attributes. He has always been accepting of the woman I am. Always accepting of ME.
But it is far and in between that I take the time to show him how deeply I love him. I don't thank him on a daily basis for being a part of the woman I am today. I don't shower him with kisses and hugs and "I love you" like I should be. Why??? Because, simply, life gets in the way.
I am truly blessed to have Erik as my better half. He takes my sense of humor, my bad moods, my lack of showering, my dirty use of cuss words, my experiments in the kitchen, my addiction to yoga, my Paleo cooking and my dream of being a great writer. He takes it all, good and bad, head on. He's a real man.
Our love story goes back 11 years. He held my purse during sorority parties, held my hair back after "after work parties," held my train as we walked down the aisle, held my hand during fertility treatment after fertility treatment, held our babies as they took their first breaths and has held my heart everyday since we met. I am in awe that God created this other being just for me. Yep, that one is mine. I know he is. He accepted me when my background was different than his. He loved me during the sadness of fertility treatments and then celebrated with me during the triumphs. He packed boxes along my side through four moves in four years. He hasn't admitted me to an insane asylum after the early years of raising three kiddos including twins. He has remained my best friend despite seeing me at my worst and knowing my darkest secrets.
As I heard a story this morning, God put the image of Erik in my head. For no good reason, just to say hey this is who you should be thankful for. Just that one image of his face set forth a domino effect of memories and flashbacks. Yep, that ONE is mine. Yep, that ONE is amazing.
When is the last time you looked at your special someone (and yes that someone could be woman too, I know that true love knows no boundaries)? Said thank you? Greeted them with "I missed you today" rather than "you won't believe what the kids did today"? I know that it has been a hell of a long time since I have. I am notorious for taking my bad days and frustrations out on my greatest fan. How selfish is that? How dumb is that? So in celebration of all the better halves out there and this coming Sweetest Day, I challenge you all to stop, take a look at your ONE and say thank you. Say I love you. Say Yep, that ONE is mine and that ONE is amazing with your words and actions.
P.S. I'll treat you with Saturday Sillies and Sentiments tomorrow to makeup for missing out on Friday Funnies :)
Friday, October 17, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Go Away New Friend
I don't understand the whole fascination my littlest boy has with his "little friend" whom, in order to not offend the faint of heart, I will refer to as Peter.
For some reason Peter has made his presence in our home very well known in the last month or so. Ever since my youngest boy, Travis, discovered Peter it's been an all out of the pants friend. I never had this issue with my eldest, Brax, so I'm not sure how to handle this or what to do.
It all started a couple of weeks back during an after bath "air out" naked time when Travis had a bit of a diaper rash. It was as if Travis had found the Holy Grail. He ran through the house with one hand in the air and the other on Peter. He screamed with delight as if he was completing some sort of marathon in first place. I consider my children funny and strange so I thought nothing of it. Then the next day he insisted taking his diaper off and proceeded to do his streaking run in full enjoyment through our home.(He must really be taking my previous post about wanting my children to accept themselves completely to heart). Again, I put a diaper on and put him to bed. His preference of nakedness began to appear during the daylight hours and not just before bed. He would argue and throw tantrums just to get free from the elastic and cushion of his Pamper Cruisers. At one point I went in to retrieve him from his crib and found him diaperless with Peter in hand. This has happened on two more occasions since.
Then while on vacation I got an email from my mom (who deserves saint recognition for watching them) that Travis was refusing his diaper and running around the house, one hand in the air and the other with Peter. She didn't know if he was in pain or had a rash, what should she do, she asked. Great. So I then had to explain to grandma that this was just her grandson being himself.
Thinking he would lose interest with time I kept correcting him through his tantrums and refusals. Persistence and patience is key right??? But then things have moved to a whole new level. In the last week he's done it twice in public. The first time was a disaster because after refusing to listen to me about putting Peter away, Travis proceeded to pee all over himself and the ground of the library. Are you serious???
What started as a one child situation is now catching like wildfire. Monkey see, monkey do should be the motto for twins. The situation with Peter proves true in this scenario because now Hailey has insisted her diaper also be taken off if her brother is lucky enough to do so. Then my 4 year-old, who is supposed to be the example of good behavior, has caught on to the trend. Thinking it's ever so funny to run around the house naked. Now it's turning into a whole other horrible situation because Travis is grabbing not just his friend Peter but also Brax's. There is no safe place because at times this is also taking place in the bathroom. This means that a clean up crew (also known as Mommy) is needed if Travis finds his way into the bathroom as the same time as Brax. And for those of you who are Moms of boys know that keeping the toilet clean is hard enough.
Now what am I to do? It's bad enough taking strong minded twins along with their testosterone fueled 4 year-old brother out in public but now I have to deal with streaking in the process? All I can honestly think is thank goodness the Duck Tape brand has come out with an assortment of colors and textures, because my children will now be wearing it as belts and additional waist attire. Maybe even Duck Tape mittens for Travis. (For those who take words literally, don't worry I'm only kidding).
For some reason Peter has made his presence in our home very well known in the last month or so. Ever since my youngest boy, Travis, discovered Peter it's been an all out of the pants friend. I never had this issue with my eldest, Brax, so I'm not sure how to handle this or what to do.
It all started a couple of weeks back during an after bath "air out" naked time when Travis had a bit of a diaper rash. It was as if Travis had found the Holy Grail. He ran through the house with one hand in the air and the other on Peter. He screamed with delight as if he was completing some sort of marathon in first place. I consider my children funny and strange so I thought nothing of it. Then the next day he insisted taking his diaper off and proceeded to do his streaking run in full enjoyment through our home.(He must really be taking my previous post about wanting my children to accept themselves completely to heart). Again, I put a diaper on and put him to bed. His preference of nakedness began to appear during the daylight hours and not just before bed. He would argue and throw tantrums just to get free from the elastic and cushion of his Pamper Cruisers. At one point I went in to retrieve him from his crib and found him diaperless with Peter in hand. This has happened on two more occasions since.
Then while on vacation I got an email from my mom (who deserves saint recognition for watching them) that Travis was refusing his diaper and running around the house, one hand in the air and the other with Peter. She didn't know if he was in pain or had a rash, what should she do, she asked. Great. So I then had to explain to grandma that this was just her grandson being himself.
Thinking he would lose interest with time I kept correcting him through his tantrums and refusals. Persistence and patience is key right??? But then things have moved to a whole new level. In the last week he's done it twice in public. The first time was a disaster because after refusing to listen to me about putting Peter away, Travis proceeded to pee all over himself and the ground of the library. Are you serious???
What started as a one child situation is now catching like wildfire. Monkey see, monkey do should be the motto for twins. The situation with Peter proves true in this scenario because now Hailey has insisted her diaper also be taken off if her brother is lucky enough to do so. Then my 4 year-old, who is supposed to be the example of good behavior, has caught on to the trend. Thinking it's ever so funny to run around the house naked. Now it's turning into a whole other horrible situation because Travis is grabbing not just his friend Peter but also Brax's. There is no safe place because at times this is also taking place in the bathroom. This means that a clean up crew (also known as Mommy) is needed if Travis finds his way into the bathroom as the same time as Brax. And for those of you who are Moms of boys know that keeping the toilet clean is hard enough.
Now what am I to do? It's bad enough taking strong minded twins along with their testosterone fueled 4 year-old brother out in public but now I have to deal with streaking in the process? All I can honestly think is thank goodness the Duck Tape brand has come out with an assortment of colors and textures, because my children will now be wearing it as belts and additional waist attire. Maybe even Duck Tape mittens for Travis. (For those who take words literally, don't worry I'm only kidding).
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Target
I used to find trips to Target intoxicating and relaxing. Now I want to hang my head in shame and ask for a shot of vodka in my coffee at the connecting Starbucks. Why? Let me give you a recap of today's Target trip.
I decided to do some Santa Christmas shopping today while my eldest was in school. I headed over to Target with the twins and prayed for a fast and easy shopping trip. I should have known better. I believe my children have subconsciously taken the bulls eye logo of Target and put it on my forehead as we enter the shiny sliding doors of what used to be a happy place.
To begin, Target believes that anyone with more than one child should be punished with a cart the size of a small sports car. I started the process of strapping the Halperin Twins into what they must believe to be a red torture chamber on wheels. The straps never fit and within 60 seconds of maneuvering the monstrous contraption past the dollar section, the twins are out of the flimsy harnesses and struggling to jump down. To answer their moans of aggravation I produce two fruit snack packets from my purse. Oh happy Joy! Today seems to be the day that Target has decided to restock their shelves. So there I was with my huge red tank and my wiggling passengers squeezing between aisles, workers and boxes. By the time I was able to work my way through aisle one the fruit snacks were gone. Damn you Target, damn you.
Now with the first snack reserve gone, Twin A now wants to sit in the actual cart versus the torture chamber seat that Target has designated for small beings. I of course give in to avoid a public tantrum. After talking to myself out loud and glancing at my 3 separate lists, I move from the grocery area to the makeup aisles. With just a small drop of my face moisturizer left I need to refill immediately. Target has other plans. The one thing I am buying for myself today is NO LONGER carried by what used to be my shiny red Emerald City. Every other type of Olay is in stock but not my cherished Age Defying Hydration Moisturizer. WTF???!!
Now we speed down the main aisle from the makeup section to the toy section to score some Christmas gifts on sale. By the time we reach our destination Travis has decided to jump ship all together and now wants to walk (also known as run from me into the other direction) rather than cruise quietly. I am at least blessed with my quiet little girl, Twin B, as she busies herself with the buckles of the empty harness that once held her brother. Oh Hailey, you'll be surrounded by attention thirsty boys your whole life. I make note of promising out loud to her that daddy and I will buy her a pony one day for being so good. I then hear the words I knew that would be coming at some point, "Hello there, where is your mommy?" I follow the sound because I know those words are being said to my son who took off in the opposite direction. As I turn the corner there is Travis looking up at a sweet lady who looks at me like I'm a moron. "Is he yours?" she asks. I want to respond with something like duh, why else would I be running around with groceries after this miniature mini me? Instead I just smile and reply "Yes" as I swoop Twin A up in one arm while pushing Twin B in the red monster. As usual I am greeted with the phrase I hear every day when venturing out into public with my crew, "Boy do you have your hands full."
As if to prove her right all hell breaks loose. Travis is now mad that he was caught and is kicking to free himself from my grasp. Hailey is now fed up with the attention her brother is receiving and starts groaning and moaning to get her mommy's attention. So I wrestle Travis into the basket of the cart holding our groceries and throw a blinking toy from the shelf into Hailey's hand and run through the aisles grabbing a Dusty ride-on, a pair of Sophia shoes and an Elsa figurine. Now rushing to the checkout lanes I grab a ziplock baggie holding a Pillsbury biscuit from my purse and Travis grabs at it with delight. I figure I have about five minutes before it's gone.
As I near the check out lanes I reach for my lists and coupons which I realize are GONE. AHHHHHH!!! I must have put them somewhere during the chaos of the toy section. I jolt back to the toy area that now seems to have a dark black cloud hanging over it. I see my list and coupons laying on the ground in front of a life size Elsa doll as she smiles me with a mocking grin. Shut it Elsa. Now with lists and coupons in hand I speed back to the check out lanes. Just as I pull into lane 5 Travis decides he doesn't want the goodness the Pillsbury dough boy has dished out and throws the biscuit out of the cart and proceeds to attempt to climb out. In one sweeping motion I pull him out setting him down at my feet while pulling a gallon of milk out and onto the lane's conveyor belt.
Making small talk with the friendly cashier with both twins staring at him, I am able to make to the final payment part. He scans my coupons as I realize that even with 3 lists I've forgotten crescent rolls and DIAPERS. How could I have forgotten diapers??? You have got to be kidding me. But there's no way I'm turning back now. He scans my Cartwheel bar code. Nothing. Scans again, nothing. Scans again, nothing. So he has me read the bar code number to him as he types it in. So here I am calling of numbers when I hear "Miss, your son is about to put his fingers in that wall socket." NO JOKE, I look up and there's Travis. I'm able to grab Thomas Edison Junior while finishing calling off the numbers. The code goes through, I swipe my Red Card and bid the cashier farewell.
Now feeling the sweat on the back of my neck from my Target extravaganza I grab Travis by the hand and push the mobile torture chamber towards freedom through the shiny sliding doors. As they slide open ... IT'S RAINING, HAPPY @#$%$#@ WEDNESDAY!
I decided to do some Santa Christmas shopping today while my eldest was in school. I headed over to Target with the twins and prayed for a fast and easy shopping trip. I should have known better. I believe my children have subconsciously taken the bulls eye logo of Target and put it on my forehead as we enter the shiny sliding doors of what used to be a happy place.
To begin, Target believes that anyone with more than one child should be punished with a cart the size of a small sports car. I started the process of strapping the Halperin Twins into what they must believe to be a red torture chamber on wheels. The straps never fit and within 60 seconds of maneuvering the monstrous contraption past the dollar section, the twins are out of the flimsy harnesses and struggling to jump down. To answer their moans of aggravation I produce two fruit snack packets from my purse. Oh happy Joy! Today seems to be the day that Target has decided to restock their shelves. So there I was with my huge red tank and my wiggling passengers squeezing between aisles, workers and boxes. By the time I was able to work my way through aisle one the fruit snacks were gone. Damn you Target, damn you.
Now with the first snack reserve gone, Twin A now wants to sit in the actual cart versus the torture chamber seat that Target has designated for small beings. I of course give in to avoid a public tantrum. After talking to myself out loud and glancing at my 3 separate lists, I move from the grocery area to the makeup aisles. With just a small drop of my face moisturizer left I need to refill immediately. Target has other plans. The one thing I am buying for myself today is NO LONGER carried by what used to be my shiny red Emerald City. Every other type of Olay is in stock but not my cherished Age Defying Hydration Moisturizer. WTF???!!
Now we speed down the main aisle from the makeup section to the toy section to score some Christmas gifts on sale. By the time we reach our destination Travis has decided to jump ship all together and now wants to walk (also known as run from me into the other direction) rather than cruise quietly. I am at least blessed with my quiet little girl, Twin B, as she busies herself with the buckles of the empty harness that once held her brother. Oh Hailey, you'll be surrounded by attention thirsty boys your whole life. I make note of promising out loud to her that daddy and I will buy her a pony one day for being so good. I then hear the words I knew that would be coming at some point, "Hello there, where is your mommy?" I follow the sound because I know those words are being said to my son who took off in the opposite direction. As I turn the corner there is Travis looking up at a sweet lady who looks at me like I'm a moron. "Is he yours?" she asks. I want to respond with something like duh, why else would I be running around with groceries after this miniature mini me? Instead I just smile and reply "Yes" as I swoop Twin A up in one arm while pushing Twin B in the red monster. As usual I am greeted with the phrase I hear every day when venturing out into public with my crew, "Boy do you have your hands full."
As if to prove her right all hell breaks loose. Travis is now mad that he was caught and is kicking to free himself from my grasp. Hailey is now fed up with the attention her brother is receiving and starts groaning and moaning to get her mommy's attention. So I wrestle Travis into the basket of the cart holding our groceries and throw a blinking toy from the shelf into Hailey's hand and run through the aisles grabbing a Dusty ride-on, a pair of Sophia shoes and an Elsa figurine. Now rushing to the checkout lanes I grab a ziplock baggie holding a Pillsbury biscuit from my purse and Travis grabs at it with delight. I figure I have about five minutes before it's gone.
As I near the check out lanes I reach for my lists and coupons which I realize are GONE. AHHHHHH!!! I must have put them somewhere during the chaos of the toy section. I jolt back to the toy area that now seems to have a dark black cloud hanging over it. I see my list and coupons laying on the ground in front of a life size Elsa doll as she smiles me with a mocking grin. Shut it Elsa. Now with lists and coupons in hand I speed back to the check out lanes. Just as I pull into lane 5 Travis decides he doesn't want the goodness the Pillsbury dough boy has dished out and throws the biscuit out of the cart and proceeds to attempt to climb out. In one sweeping motion I pull him out setting him down at my feet while pulling a gallon of milk out and onto the lane's conveyor belt.
Making small talk with the friendly cashier with both twins staring at him, I am able to make to the final payment part. He scans my coupons as I realize that even with 3 lists I've forgotten crescent rolls and DIAPERS. How could I have forgotten diapers??? You have got to be kidding me. But there's no way I'm turning back now. He scans my Cartwheel bar code. Nothing. Scans again, nothing. Scans again, nothing. So he has me read the bar code number to him as he types it in. So here I am calling of numbers when I hear "Miss, your son is about to put his fingers in that wall socket." NO JOKE, I look up and there's Travis. I'm able to grab Thomas Edison Junior while finishing calling off the numbers. The code goes through, I swipe my Red Card and bid the cashier farewell.
Now feeling the sweat on the back of my neck from my Target extravaganza I grab Travis by the hand and push the mobile torture chamber towards freedom through the shiny sliding doors. As they slide open ... IT'S RAINING, HAPPY @#$%$#@ WEDNESDAY!
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Poops and Diaper Changes
Oh twin poops and diaper changes in general. There are days when I can change up to six poopy diapers just in addition to wet ones. Such a number also means leaving the house in the morning hours withOUT someone pooping within minutes of heading out the door is rare.
Along with poopy diapers come diaper rashes. Along with rashes come creams. All diaper rash creams the same?? NOPE. One twin does well on cream A while twin #2 does better with cream B, which means double the cash for butt smear and twice the chance of misplacing a necessary tube of goo.
It also wasn't a great day when our boy/girl twins started wearing different sized diapers from one another. We then had to worry about having two different sizes in stock and to remember to look at the number associated with the diaper to make sure the right twin was getting the right size. If this process failed the end result would be either a leaky mess or better yet a dreaded blow out.
Cloth diapers??!! I'm sure there are plenty of moms out there that have mastered this but when this was and is suggested to me (mind you never by the mom of twins) I want to take a cloth diaper and stuff it in their mouth. For those of you unfamiliar with the steps of cleaning these "cloth diapers" please Google it and then let me know exactly when I'm supposed to fit this process into my day of raising three kids and running a household. don't forget to DOUBLE the time and steps because I have twins, that means TWO butts. Thanks.
The actual changing of a twin's diaper is also no easy feat. It's like playing defense in some sort of demented game of basketball involving feces. Keeping one twin from grabbing their own digested mess while wrestling another away to avoid foot to head contact and wasted wipes. At least I'm keeping up and exercising my hand-eye coordination in my 30's.
On the positive side, when the twins were infants we were changing up to an average of twenty diapers a day between the two. This pushed us quickly to toilet train our then almost three year old son. By comparison his butt was so much bigger than our tiny twosome that it felt as if we were changing a teenager. We also manage to rack up so many Pamper points to cover the cost of our photo Christmas cards for the most expensive month of the year (because did I mention our diaper filling twins were born on December 23rd??)
It doesn't help that sometimes our 4 year old will call to me from the bathroom in the early hours of the morning to "help" him out. So. Much. Poop.
So, as I wipe another butt this morning I tell myself everything is a phase and diaper changes will one day be a thing of the past. I also know that potty training is no day in the sun. To think about training two little ones, of different sexes, at the same time blows my mind. But if all else fails we can move to a nudist colony where I will no longer have to worry about diapers.
Along with poopy diapers come diaper rashes. Along with rashes come creams. All diaper rash creams the same?? NOPE. One twin does well on cream A while twin #2 does better with cream B, which means double the cash for butt smear and twice the chance of misplacing a necessary tube of goo.
It also wasn't a great day when our boy/girl twins started wearing different sized diapers from one another. We then had to worry about having two different sizes in stock and to remember to look at the number associated with the diaper to make sure the right twin was getting the right size. If this process failed the end result would be either a leaky mess or better yet a dreaded blow out.
Cloth diapers??!! I'm sure there are plenty of moms out there that have mastered this but when this was and is suggested to me (mind you never by the mom of twins) I want to take a cloth diaper and stuff it in their mouth. For those of you unfamiliar with the steps of cleaning these "cloth diapers" please Google it and then let me know exactly when I'm supposed to fit this process into my day of raising three kids and running a household. don't forget to DOUBLE the time and steps because I have twins, that means TWO butts. Thanks.
The actual changing of a twin's diaper is also no easy feat. It's like playing defense in some sort of demented game of basketball involving feces. Keeping one twin from grabbing their own digested mess while wrestling another away to avoid foot to head contact and wasted wipes. At least I'm keeping up and exercising my hand-eye coordination in my 30's.
On the positive side, when the twins were infants we were changing up to an average of twenty diapers a day between the two. This pushed us quickly to toilet train our then almost three year old son. By comparison his butt was so much bigger than our tiny twosome that it felt as if we were changing a teenager. We also manage to rack up so many Pamper points to cover the cost of our photo Christmas cards for the most expensive month of the year (because did I mention our diaper filling twins were born on December 23rd??)
It doesn't help that sometimes our 4 year old will call to me from the bathroom in the early hours of the morning to "help" him out. So. Much. Poop.
So, as I wipe another butt this morning I tell myself everything is a phase and diaper changes will one day be a thing of the past. I also know that potty training is no day in the sun. To think about training two little ones, of different sexes, at the same time blows my mind. But if all else fails we can move to a nudist colony where I will no longer have to worry about diapers.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Inspiration of an Odd Character
I was convinced to finally make this whole writing dream a public reality.
A couple of weeks back, while taking the kiddos to the library, I came across an announcement that they would be hosting a published author of six novels. Those who are close to me know that I’ve been writing my whole life and aspire to do something related to this creative passion. I figured I could take two hours out of my exciting Tuesday night and see what this guy had to say about the passion we shared.
The evening of the event, all the kids were fed, bathed and in bed as I headed over to our tiny library. Walking into Room AB, the crowd was getting crazy … or not. Three others sat in chairs, a small gray haired woman, a man of late fifties with large glasses and over sized feet wearing a pair of worn blue jeans and white Reeboks and the last audience member I recognized as an employee of the library with frizzy bed head and black rimmed glasses. As we sat waiting for this to arrive, in walked a man of average height with tight curly auburn hair and tanned freckled leathery skin. He reminded me of Albert Brooks. He made some crack about the large turn out and then jumped into his story.
To make a long story short his journey was intriguing and inspiring to say the least. Here was this guy from the Midwest who took all the thoughts he had swirling around his head and was able to put them to paper. Creating and selling six successful novels. He wasn't afraid of what others had to say and frankly didn't give a shit, as long as he was getting his story across and felt that he was entertaining a crowd of readers out there. He went on to talk about how to get your writing a following crowd. These followers would eventually be interested in buying/reading your books once you conquered the process of putting pen to paper, finding an agent/publisher and so on. Social media was his answer. Facebook, blogging, Twitter. Use it and abuse it. Get your words out there so the people could read it, love it and/or hate it. Get a reaction.
True, I wanted a reaction but in the past I had skipped so many blog postings of others because they weren't my cup of tea or just were boring. I raised my hand and relayed this experience, adding "What makes me special? Why would someone read my "stuff"? This odd character responded with words that gave me the kick that I needed, "You're right. What makes you special? Do you have a gift to entertain? Will you reach a certain crowd? You won't know until you get your "stuff" out there and see if the masses respond."
So here I am, with my words standing naked in front of you. I will warn you that I am a writer because I love to write, I find enjoyment and happiness in writing while sharing and entertaining others with my words. I find a thrill in reaching the emotions of readers through the power of words. I don't care about grammar or paragraphs. I care about emotions, expanding the mind and connecting with others, not if my punctuation is correct. If you care about commas and paragraphs please move on. But if you are looking for real emotions and uncanny words, get comfortable and stay awhile. Read my past posts. Follow my blog. Share with your FB friends. Email it to your mom. Post a link to your Twitter. In return, I promise to do my best in entertaining you on a regular basis and even try my hand at grammar and punctuation.
A couple of weeks back, while taking the kiddos to the library, I came across an announcement that they would be hosting a published author of six novels. Those who are close to me know that I’ve been writing my whole life and aspire to do something related to this creative passion. I figured I could take two hours out of my exciting Tuesday night and see what this guy had to say about the passion we shared.
The evening of the event, all the kids were fed, bathed and in bed as I headed over to our tiny library. Walking into Room AB, the crowd was getting crazy … or not. Three others sat in chairs, a small gray haired woman, a man of late fifties with large glasses and over sized feet wearing a pair of worn blue jeans and white Reeboks and the last audience member I recognized as an employee of the library with frizzy bed head and black rimmed glasses. As we sat waiting for this to arrive, in walked a man of average height with tight curly auburn hair and tanned freckled leathery skin. He reminded me of Albert Brooks. He made some crack about the large turn out and then jumped into his story.
To make a long story short his journey was intriguing and inspiring to say the least. Here was this guy from the Midwest who took all the thoughts he had swirling around his head and was able to put them to paper. Creating and selling six successful novels. He wasn't afraid of what others had to say and frankly didn't give a shit, as long as he was getting his story across and felt that he was entertaining a crowd of readers out there. He went on to talk about how to get your writing a following crowd. These followers would eventually be interested in buying/reading your books once you conquered the process of putting pen to paper, finding an agent/publisher and so on. Social media was his answer. Facebook, blogging, Twitter. Use it and abuse it. Get your words out there so the people could read it, love it and/or hate it. Get a reaction.
True, I wanted a reaction but in the past I had skipped so many blog postings of others because they weren't my cup of tea or just were boring. I raised my hand and relayed this experience, adding "What makes me special? Why would someone read my "stuff"? This odd character responded with words that gave me the kick that I needed, "You're right. What makes you special? Do you have a gift to entertain? Will you reach a certain crowd? You won't know until you get your "stuff" out there and see if the masses respond."
So here I am, with my words standing naked in front of you. I will warn you that I am a writer because I love to write, I find enjoyment and happiness in writing while sharing and entertaining others with my words. I find a thrill in reaching the emotions of readers through the power of words. I don't care about grammar or paragraphs. I care about emotions, expanding the mind and connecting with others, not if my punctuation is correct. If you care about commas and paragraphs please move on. But if you are looking for real emotions and uncanny words, get comfortable and stay awhile. Read my past posts. Follow my blog. Share with your FB friends. Email it to your mom. Post a link to your Twitter. In return, I promise to do my best in entertaining you on a regular basis and even try my hand at grammar and punctuation.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Gulity
I plead guilty. Guilty of what? Staring and comparing.
During our trip through 3 airports to the Bahamas, I busied myself with books, writing and a little DVD action but in between I fell guilty to the preoccupation of S and C. Staring and comparing. I will first start off by saying that I don’t do it out of judgment but out of lack of confidence in myself.
10 years ago at the age of 21, confidence was not something that I lacked in my daily interactions. Now at the age of 31, it’s something I fight with inwardly. It may have to do with the fact that at age 21 I had now besides my mom and husband the only other person that tells me I am beautiful is the awkward old Chinese lady at the massage place I go to. I’m really not the type of person that can easily embrace their flaws. This type of relationship can cause havoc on the other relationships in your life. When you don’t feel good about yourself it definitely comes out in the interactions you have with others, especially your loved ones.
I would have to say within the last 6 years I’ve fought this battle head on. I believe it started the year before my wedding. With working full time and planning combined with my love for working out and my addictive personality, I dropped 13 pounds within 7 months. The day I was married I weighed in at 110. Thinking nothing of it, the weight continued to fall off until after the flu hit our home in January of 2009 when I hit a low of 103. I fed off the words, “You look so thin.” I began the terrible habits of calorie counting and rather than focusing on the quality of the food I was taking in I focused on the quantity. During this time I could feel myself become agitated with others or events if they interrupted my “ideal” version of what I needed to be eating or my pristine workout schedule. I needed a better action plan and that plan came in the form of a friend who introduced me to a professional that introduced me to the Whole30.
Ever since completing my first Whole30 back in March of this year and then continuing on with a Paleo lifestyle I have come to make peace with food. It’s been an amazing journey. I no longer have notebooks filled with the names of foods and their corresponding calories. for the first time in years I am enjoying food and look forward to meals rather than fear them. My husband and I are cooking together and eating quality foods rather than a quantity of garbage.
Though it appears that I won the fight with food I still have the tendency to beat myself up when it comes to appearances. I am incredibly frightened of putting myself in a situation where I am the center of attention. I am afraid of judgment. Afraid for someone to call out my flaws. To make fun of my flaws. I grew up in a house where that was the norm with our dad. I now know that it was just the way he showed affection but 20 years later I am now frightened of what others will think of me and what they will say. So I stare and compare.
Though it appears that I won the fight with food I still have the tendency to beat myself up when it comes to appearances. I am incredibly frightened of putting myself in a situation where I am the center of attention. I am afraid of judgment. Afraid for someone to call out my flaws. To make fun of my flaws. I grew up in a house where that was the norm with our dad. I now know that it was just the way he showed affection but 20 years later I am now frightened of what others will think of me and what they will say. So I stare and compare.
Am I as thin as her?
Look at her hair, I would kill for that hair.
Why can’t I be easy and breezy and pull off such a natural look like her?
I wonder if she has stretch marks.
Wow, she carries herself amazingly. Why can't I just "let go" and do the same? Why am I so scared?
Wow, she carries herself amazingly. Why can't I just "let go" and do the same? Why am I so scared?
She’s a mom … I hope I don’t look like that.
The list goes on but out of fear of sharing too much I’ll keep the rest to myself.
The worst part of this battle with my inner voice is that I absolutely do not want to hand this down to my children. I don't want them to ever be their worst critic. I never want them to put their own self or dreams down. Therefore, I not only strive to conquer this inner battle for myself but also for my relationship with my loved ones and for my kids. As I give myself the freedom to write and share my world I find myself become stronger and accepting my flaws. Now they are no longer flaws but (as my husband would say of our well loved kitchen table) they give me "character," these little things that I used to nit pick over I am now slowly starting to realize they are the dings and nicks of my life story. A body that carried three children and the face of a loving wife. The lines, curves, smooth and rough patches that God has graced me with as I live my life as woman, wife, mother, daughter, friend and writer. I know that this battle won't be fought over night but it feels good to know that I'm on the path to victory.
The worst part of this battle with my inner voice is that I absolutely do not want to hand this down to my children. I don't want them to ever be their worst critic. I never want them to put their own self or dreams down. Therefore, I not only strive to conquer this inner battle for myself but also for my relationship with my loved ones and for my kids. As I give myself the freedom to write and share my world I find myself become stronger and accepting my flaws. Now they are no longer flaws but (as my husband would say of our well loved kitchen table) they give me "character," these little things that I used to nit pick over I am now slowly starting to realize they are the dings and nicks of my life story. A body that carried three children and the face of a loving wife. The lines, curves, smooth and rough patches that God has graced me with as I live my life as woman, wife, mother, daughter, friend and writer. I know that this battle won't be fought over night but it feels good to know that I'm on the path to victory.
Friday, October 10, 2014
Recap of Vacation Mommy Freedoms
After being on vacation for six days without my kids I realize now the things I took for granted when it was just me. Most of these "things" are silly and some what humorous when you really break it down. So I figured I would document these findings in this week's Friday Funnies.
1. The taste of a hot meal without the interruptions of dropped foods and utensils, refill requests or having small hands reach over the table to grab the food off your plate or climb into your lap.
2. Using a pen, keyboard, remote, brush, toothbrush and a million other simple objects without it being grabbed from your hand or asked for to satisfy the curiosity thirst of a small human being.
3. Having the time and freedom to shower and dress completely. (Though I came to find that this was actually a pain in the butt to do on a regular daily basis).
4. Going to the bathroom without another human being staring at you in the process or trying to "wipe" you.
5. Putting clothes on without worrying about other little bodies pulling out clothes from drawers in order to dress too.
6. Applying makeup without a game of Whack a Mole involving beauty products and small hands.
7. The freedom of sitting down to a meal without making 5 different meals and cutting up not only your food but at least the food of three others before the fork even hits your lips.
8. Waking up and getting out of bed when your OWN body feels that it is time.
9. Leaving to go somewhere 5 minutes before you have to be there. (Not taking into account the amount of time needed for surprise diaper changes, bathroom breaks, buckling in three littles into car seats, packing a snack bag, filling waters and making sure some sort of mini vehicle (stroller or wagon) is in the back of your larger vehicle.
10. Watching a television program without a small voice asking when their turn is or not being able to hear the program at all. To go along with actually watching interrupted, being able to watch a show with blood, sex and weapons without worrying about small eyes and ears.
11. Sitting down in the middle of the day.
12. Not pulling out tissues, snacks, toys and other crap before pulling your wallet out of your purse in public.
13. A HOT cup of coffee.
14. Wearing a zip up hoodie without anything under it and not worrying about it being unzipped in public to flash everyone your bra and stretch marks.
15. Painting your toenails without little fingers trying to touch and smear the wet lacquer.
Even after these recounts and sitting back in Illinois amongst the chaos of reality, the funniest thing is that I wouldn't change having my days crazy and unpredictable with my kiddos. At the end of the day I would rather eat my meals cold, smell after not showering, take 20 minutes to even get in the car, rise before the sun does and drink luke warm coffee just to have the sweet smell of my children on my clothes, their sticky fingers in my hair, their warm kisses on my face and their love all around me.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Mommy Brain on Vacation
Due to international travel issues this was supposed to be posted almost a week ago BUT better late than never.
For weeks I imagined my first night of my kid-free vacation to be filled with 12 hours of blissful sleep. How wrong was I.
I blame my dreams of slumber being crushed by a text we received late Wednesday evening. Our flight was cancelled. Yep, a flight booked months in advance and one that was to leave in less than 12 hours at 2 pm the next day. With Erik scouring the Internet for flights while holding on two cell phones for customer service, my control freak details of how the next 24 hours were supposed to go fell completely apart like an unstable Jenga game.
Luckily enough we rebooked a new flight at 7:40 am. This flight plan included a lay over in Baltimore along with boarding numbers that would guarantee Erik and I not sitting together. We would then land in Florida at 2 pm. I renamed that flight plan Long Ass Day.
I am not the type of person to be okay with my plans being disrupted when I am leaving my kids for the first time in three years for 6 days in another country. I didn't get to say good bye to them since I had already put them down to sleep. I didn't have time to recheck the 7 page guide of lists and instructions I left. I didn't have time for last minute packing. I was now waking up at 4:15 am rather than 6:30. Woe is me. I was going to the Bahamas with my husband, kid free.
After our Long Ass Day we checked into our hotel. Super sleepy from my 4 am wake up call and a day of flying, I made it through dinner, a hot bath and an episode of Biggest Loser with a brain full of mush. Thinking I would fall asleep instantly, I turned out the lights and nestled into the crisp and stiff bed sheets of our king size hotel bed.
The joke was on me. I laid awake before falling asleep making a checklist of all the things I had to convey to my sister, mom and babysitter, who would all be taking turns watching the minions during the next six days. The last time I looked at the stark red lights of the alarm clock an hour had passed. I squeezed my eyes tight and tried thinking of anything but "what ifs".
I then woke up to the sound of a train, yes they build train tracks and stations next to Marriots in Florida, around 4 am. I laid awake with my mind playing out terrible scenarios of things that could happen while I was gone. I then made a plan to avoid each of those scenarios, then a checklist of those plans and steps to relay to my sister, mom and babysitter before leaving the country in 7 hours.
By 5:06 am my mental checklists were complete and I prayed to the slumber gods for some more sleep. 6:11 am I awoke to my husband turning the bathroom light on and the sound of another train clanking away. Good Morning first day of vacation, good morning to you!
To make fun of myself, my Friday Funnies list will consist of the insane items that my "middle of the night" checklists contained.
1. What if my sister didn't watch the driver side mirror while backing out of the garage? What if she broke it off? I must text her about that.
2. What if she didn't see Erik's car while backing out and hit it? Should she move it to the street and then back out the van? What if someone hit Erik's car while it was parked on the street? Would people know we were out of town because it was parked in a different spot?
3. What if no one held my daughter's hand during school drop off? Would she run into the parking lot? I must text my sister about that.
4. Braxton has show and tell on Monday for something starting with the letter A. It's gotta be something cool. I must text my mom about that.
5. I hope it rains in Chicago because what if no one waters my mums, they will die. I must text my sister to find out if it is raining because if it's not then someone needs to water my flowers.
6. I wonder if there are any strawberries left for the kids to eat.
7. We missed signing up for the October reading list because we missed out on story time on Thursday. I have to remember to sign the kids up when I get back into town.
8. Should I wear sunscreen on vacation? If I don't I'll get burned and cause some serious skin damage. If I do I'll still be a pasty Midwestern pale. No one will know I went on vacation. Everyone looks better with a tan.
9. When I get home I need to start sleeping more.
10. I forgot to tell my mom the clothes in the basket outside of the dryer are clean and not to wash them again. I have to text her about that.
And there you have it folks, DAY 1 of vacation for the brain of a mommy.
For weeks I imagined my first night of my kid-free vacation to be filled with 12 hours of blissful sleep. How wrong was I.
I blame my dreams of slumber being crushed by a text we received late Wednesday evening. Our flight was cancelled. Yep, a flight booked months in advance and one that was to leave in less than 12 hours at 2 pm the next day. With Erik scouring the Internet for flights while holding on two cell phones for customer service, my control freak details of how the next 24 hours were supposed to go fell completely apart like an unstable Jenga game.
Luckily enough we rebooked a new flight at 7:40 am. This flight plan included a lay over in Baltimore along with boarding numbers that would guarantee Erik and I not sitting together. We would then land in Florida at 2 pm. I renamed that flight plan Long Ass Day.
I am not the type of person to be okay with my plans being disrupted when I am leaving my kids for the first time in three years for 6 days in another country. I didn't get to say good bye to them since I had already put them down to sleep. I didn't have time to recheck the 7 page guide of lists and instructions I left. I didn't have time for last minute packing. I was now waking up at 4:15 am rather than 6:30. Woe is me. I was going to the Bahamas with my husband, kid free.
After our Long Ass Day we checked into our hotel. Super sleepy from my 4 am wake up call and a day of flying, I made it through dinner, a hot bath and an episode of Biggest Loser with a brain full of mush. Thinking I would fall asleep instantly, I turned out the lights and nestled into the crisp and stiff bed sheets of our king size hotel bed.
The joke was on me. I laid awake before falling asleep making a checklist of all the things I had to convey to my sister, mom and babysitter, who would all be taking turns watching the minions during the next six days. The last time I looked at the stark red lights of the alarm clock an hour had passed. I squeezed my eyes tight and tried thinking of anything but "what ifs".
I then woke up to the sound of a train, yes they build train tracks and stations next to Marriots in Florida, around 4 am. I laid awake with my mind playing out terrible scenarios of things that could happen while I was gone. I then made a plan to avoid each of those scenarios, then a checklist of those plans and steps to relay to my sister, mom and babysitter before leaving the country in 7 hours.
By 5:06 am my mental checklists were complete and I prayed to the slumber gods for some more sleep. 6:11 am I awoke to my husband turning the bathroom light on and the sound of another train clanking away. Good Morning first day of vacation, good morning to you!
To make fun of myself, my Friday Funnies list will consist of the insane items that my "middle of the night" checklists contained.
1. What if my sister didn't watch the driver side mirror while backing out of the garage? What if she broke it off? I must text her about that.
2. What if she didn't see Erik's car while backing out and hit it? Should she move it to the street and then back out the van? What if someone hit Erik's car while it was parked on the street? Would people know we were out of town because it was parked in a different spot?
3. What if no one held my daughter's hand during school drop off? Would she run into the parking lot? I must text my sister about that.
4. Braxton has show and tell on Monday for something starting with the letter A. It's gotta be something cool. I must text my mom about that.
5. I hope it rains in Chicago because what if no one waters my mums, they will die. I must text my sister to find out if it is raining because if it's not then someone needs to water my flowers.
6. I wonder if there are any strawberries left for the kids to eat.
7. We missed signing up for the October reading list because we missed out on story time on Thursday. I have to remember to sign the kids up when I get back into town.
8. Should I wear sunscreen on vacation? If I don't I'll get burned and cause some serious skin damage. If I do I'll still be a pasty Midwestern pale. No one will know I went on vacation. Everyone looks better with a tan.
9. When I get home I need to start sleeping more.
10. I forgot to tell my mom the clothes in the basket outside of the dryer are clean and not to wash them again. I have to text her about that.
And there you have it folks, DAY 1 of vacation for the brain of a mommy.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Holy Meltdowns, Are you Serious?
What is it with Wednesdays??!!! In my house these days are filled with meltdowns and tantrums from my kids and myself. I can feel my stress level bubbling over to the brink of insanity. My four year old started in on me this morning at 6:45 am because he couldn't get crayons to stick to a plastic cup with a glue stick because he wanted to make a craft he saw Clinton Kelley create on The Chew. Are you serious!!!!???
Then it was double the cries and fights with the twins would decided to get up extra early today. Both Hailey and Travis decided that eating their breakfast at the table was so not cool and absolutely needed to eat their Pillsbury Flaky biscuits while walking through my clean house. The clan of three followed me down to the basement/play room/gym where I jumped on the treadmill hoping to get maybe 30 minutes in. I was wrong. By minute 24, the three were arguing and screaming over utensils in the play kitchen. Even though there are about 22 pieces they were fighting over the same damn spoon. Are you serious?
Double cries and fights turned into double poops just as we were leaving to take Brax to school. Double diaper changes are never fun and one of my least favorite things about having twins. There you are with one twin trying to not let him/her get grab happy with their dirty diaper or their privates while you try to play defense against another twin that is trying to steal wipes or step on their sibling's face. And don't ever EVER forget to throw both dirty diapers away before leaving for school drop off because you will come home to it devoured and scattered across the living room by a furry white 9 pound goblin. Are you serious?
Thinking that after my daughter has successfully eaten apple sauce pouches a number of times, she would be able to eat one this morning after she swiped one from their snack pack in the car and screaming at me as I tried to take it away. But NOOOO, not today. After I unscrewed it she squeezed the pouch and let the purple-brownish slurry ooze down her shirt and (fittingly)
across the word PRINCESS embroidered on her shirt. Are you serious?
After school drop off I seriously contemplated just sitting in my car in the driveway just because the twins were actually being quiet. I should have because the second they were out of their seats the screams ensued and the fights began as soon as their little feet touched the garage cement. They then scattered up the stairs into the house and made a beeline for the backdoor. Once outside the twosome investigated their nature findings quietly. I thought I was in the clear until a signature Travis scream cut through the air and they were once again fighting over a peanut that had fallen out of the squirrel feeder. Are you serious?
To break up the fight and possibly advert attention from one another I gave each little spawn a cup of Cheerios. Mistake. 93 seconds later they were pulling at one another and the cups along with the coveted Cheerios were flying across the deck. Picking each one up around the waist I hurried in side to avoid having the whole neighborhood hear my great parenting skills. Are you serious?
Once inside I stuck a blueberry protein muffin in each of their hands and we headed to the all empowered Play Room. Still no progress. God forbid I sit in a chair by myself, or one play with a car that we don't have a double of, or just accepting that both can be in the ball pit at one time. Nope, nope, nope. So now I sit here at 10:25 am with Hailey crying over Travis taking her computer and Travis crying over slipping over a magazine as he ran to escape with the computer. Are you serious?
Happy Meltdown Wednesday, is it Funny Friday yet??
Then it was double the cries and fights with the twins would decided to get up extra early today. Both Hailey and Travis decided that eating their breakfast at the table was so not cool and absolutely needed to eat their Pillsbury Flaky biscuits while walking through my clean house. The clan of three followed me down to the basement/play room/gym where I jumped on the treadmill hoping to get maybe 30 minutes in. I was wrong. By minute 24, the three were arguing and screaming over utensils in the play kitchen. Even though there are about 22 pieces they were fighting over the same damn spoon. Are you serious?
Double cries and fights turned into double poops just as we were leaving to take Brax to school. Double diaper changes are never fun and one of my least favorite things about having twins. There you are with one twin trying to not let him/her get grab happy with their dirty diaper or their privates while you try to play defense against another twin that is trying to steal wipes or step on their sibling's face. And don't ever EVER forget to throw both dirty diapers away before leaving for school drop off because you will come home to it devoured and scattered across the living room by a furry white 9 pound goblin. Are you serious?
Thinking that after my daughter has successfully eaten apple sauce pouches a number of times, she would be able to eat one this morning after she swiped one from their snack pack in the car and screaming at me as I tried to take it away. But NOOOO, not today. After I unscrewed it she squeezed the pouch and let the purple-brownish slurry ooze down her shirt and (fittingly)
across the word PRINCESS embroidered on her shirt. Are you serious?
After school drop off I seriously contemplated just sitting in my car in the driveway just because the twins were actually being quiet. I should have because the second they were out of their seats the screams ensued and the fights began as soon as their little feet touched the garage cement. They then scattered up the stairs into the house and made a beeline for the backdoor. Once outside the twosome investigated their nature findings quietly. I thought I was in the clear until a signature Travis scream cut through the air and they were once again fighting over a peanut that had fallen out of the squirrel feeder. Are you serious?
To break up the fight and possibly advert attention from one another I gave each little spawn a cup of Cheerios. Mistake. 93 seconds later they were pulling at one another and the cups along with the coveted Cheerios were flying across the deck. Picking each one up around the waist I hurried in side to avoid having the whole neighborhood hear my great parenting skills. Are you serious?
Once inside I stuck a blueberry protein muffin in each of their hands and we headed to the all empowered Play Room. Still no progress. God forbid I sit in a chair by myself, or one play with a car that we don't have a double of, or just accepting that both can be in the ball pit at one time. Nope, nope, nope. So now I sit here at 10:25 am with Hailey crying over Travis taking her computer and Travis crying over slipping over a magazine as he ran to escape with the computer. Are you serious?
Happy Meltdown Wednesday, is it Funny Friday yet??
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
The Playroom
Playrooms are actually pits made out of toys. Located in a forgotten room that you want your kids to get lost in to give you a moment of freedom or peace and quiet. However they actually turn into these gigantic messes that you find yourself lost in cleaning. Crap from wall to wall.
Oddly enough my kid's playroom doubles as my workout area. This morning, as I mastered the poses of downward dog and warrior two I looked around at the sleeping chaos around me as my kids were still in their beds. Gross. A forgotten pink toothbrush lay just peeking out from under our garage sale find lazy boy. Stale Cheerios spot the carpet around the edges of a cabinet swelling with toys. Mickey Mouse hangs from the synthetic hair of a pony while his clubhouse lay open and disheveled across the room. In the middle of the room is a small trampoline frayed and tattered from daily jumping. Under the trampoline a puzzle piece that belongs in a box that no longer exists. A play kitchen stands against the wall holding odds and ends, from fake plastic food to magnetic letters to what my kids deemed acceptable on their menu the previous day. Captain America, Spiderman and Hulk are having a debate on a pink fleece chair.
To the untrained eye these items strewed across this open room may look like a land of misfit toys from a fairy tale, but to my kids it's their world, their treasures, their cherished pieces of childhood. As much as this room drives my organized driven, control freak mind crazy I relish in the love and innocence smeared across every inch. There are definitely days that I want to take a couple of large black trash bags and fill them with half of this room, but after doing a "summer cleaning" of this room to sell at a consignment sale I found that I was just as attached to these misfit pieces of wonder as my children were. Each piece carries a memory and/or milestone of my kids or a moment that solidify our bond as a family through play.
Oddly enough my kid's playroom doubles as my workout area. This morning, as I mastered the poses of downward dog and warrior two I looked around at the sleeping chaos around me as my kids were still in their beds. Gross. A forgotten pink toothbrush lay just peeking out from under our garage sale find lazy boy. Stale Cheerios spot the carpet around the edges of a cabinet swelling with toys. Mickey Mouse hangs from the synthetic hair of a pony while his clubhouse lay open and disheveled across the room. In the middle of the room is a small trampoline frayed and tattered from daily jumping. Under the trampoline a puzzle piece that belongs in a box that no longer exists. A play kitchen stands against the wall holding odds and ends, from fake plastic food to magnetic letters to what my kids deemed acceptable on their menu the previous day. Captain America, Spiderman and Hulk are having a debate on a pink fleece chair.
To the untrained eye these items strewed across this open room may look like a land of misfit toys from a fairy tale, but to my kids it's their world, their treasures, their cherished pieces of childhood. As much as this room drives my organized driven, control freak mind crazy I relish in the love and innocence smeared across every inch. There are definitely days that I want to take a couple of large black trash bags and fill them with half of this room, but after doing a "summer cleaning" of this room to sell at a consignment sale I found that I was just as attached to these misfit pieces of wonder as my children were. Each piece carries a memory and/or milestone of my kids or a moment that solidify our bond as a family through play.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Directions
In the story of the chef I spoke of yesterday the reverend depicted another scene. After choosing the easy route of making the dessert and being called out on it by a colleague the chef walks out of the restaurant. As he looks up to the large clock that looks over the town, an inscription under the face reads "A time to do well". The chef takes it as a life sign and a direction to take. He decides to make a truer commitment. Again I am faced with my own questions of if I am fulfilling a commitment? Am I living fully?
When we wake we are given each day. With that day we are given choices. Choices to make new decisions and to take new directions. It's never too late to change our minds. When we start saying yes to a new beginning we start welcoming a richness to life as well. Taking this to heart I know that I need to make a truer commitment. I've been given this life of love and happiness, what can I give back? To whom do I give back to?
Opening a door to an unknown choice is scary and I worry what change is on the other side. I feel restless in my heart and know that opening THAT door to a new direction is the answer to bring peace to my inner noise.
When we wake we are given each day. With that day we are given choices. Choices to make new decisions and to take new directions. It's never too late to change our minds. When we start saying yes to a new beginning we start welcoming a richness to life as well. Taking this to heart I know that I need to make a truer commitment. I've been given this life of love and happiness, what can I give back? To whom do I give back to?
Opening a door to an unknown choice is scary and I worry what change is on the other side. I feel restless in my heart and know that opening THAT door to a new direction is the answer to bring peace to my inner noise.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
From Mother to Mom
After not attending church for three months I decided to attend this morning at 9 am sans the family. With my husband not being the church going type and my little ones being so little, after talking with my mother in-law I came to the conclusion that it was something that I may just needed to do on my own rather than giving it up to match my family's wants. So I made sure every one was fed, got dressed and headed over. For some, church is just an absolute or a way of life that you just do. For me, it's different. For me it's an hour to myself, my thoughts and my higher power. A time when my heart, mind and prayers combine in one breath. It becomes almost a time of meditation and once I leave I always feel refreshed. I figured that after the last couple of months that I have had as a mom and as a woman that if I heard something that hit a chord I was in the right direction of where I was going.
Sitting in the last pew I listened while going in between my own thoughts, the words being said and written in the bulletin. Then the sermon came entitled "A Change of Mind." As the reverend spoke the wheels of my head and heart began to turn and spark. He told a story about a cook who was looking to be a chef and the journey he took. After traveling across the world, taking a position at a 5 star Italian restaurant he was asked to create a meal for some well known foodies. He had the option to either make a fillet of fresh fish that he had never worked with or to serve a dessert the restaurant was well known for and that he had made numerous times before. He chose the latter. But when asked by a dear friend as to why he didn't take the risk of making the filet and making the leap from just a cook to a chef, rather than just going through the motions of what he already knew how to do, it hit him that he was moving in any direction at all to fulfillment of his dreams.
In my head this translates "from cook to chef" to "from mother to mom." I know how to be a mother, I know how to cook, clean, change diapers, give baths, give medicines, check books out a the library, successfully do school drop-off and pick-up and all the rest of it. But was I a mom? Have I taken the leap from mother to mom? Was I fulfilling that dream and staying true to my commitment? Because a mom does all a mother can do but does it with love. A mom gives hugs and kisses, read stories, plays, tickles, listens, holds hands, teaches and protects and so much more.
As I go over these separate checklists in my head I know that I am at fault for just being a mother on some days but then I know that there are days when I am the best mom. When I am broken, tired and stressed it's hard to be a mom and not just a mother. But then again I am human. My kids love me and I love them. My husband loves me and I love him. God loves me and I love him. But I also love myself, so even though I strive to travel in the direction of becoming a mom more so than just a mother, I do give myself permission to just be a mother on the days that I can't be a mom. My kids will still love me and they will still be cared for even if I don't make a craft that day. But I also challenge those who haven't taken that leap from mother to mom, who don't stop to breathe in the smell of their children or hug and kiss their dirty little faces. It all disappears so fast, don't let it go without living it through the eyes of a mom rather than just a mother.
Sitting in the last pew I listened while going in between my own thoughts, the words being said and written in the bulletin. Then the sermon came entitled "A Change of Mind." As the reverend spoke the wheels of my head and heart began to turn and spark. He told a story about a cook who was looking to be a chef and the journey he took. After traveling across the world, taking a position at a 5 star Italian restaurant he was asked to create a meal for some well known foodies. He had the option to either make a fillet of fresh fish that he had never worked with or to serve a dessert the restaurant was well known for and that he had made numerous times before. He chose the latter. But when asked by a dear friend as to why he didn't take the risk of making the filet and making the leap from just a cook to a chef, rather than just going through the motions of what he already knew how to do, it hit him that he was moving in any direction at all to fulfillment of his dreams.
In my head this translates "from cook to chef" to "from mother to mom." I know how to be a mother, I know how to cook, clean, change diapers, give baths, give medicines, check books out a the library, successfully do school drop-off and pick-up and all the rest of it. But was I a mom? Have I taken the leap from mother to mom? Was I fulfilling that dream and staying true to my commitment? Because a mom does all a mother can do but does it with love. A mom gives hugs and kisses, read stories, plays, tickles, listens, holds hands, teaches and protects and so much more.
As I go over these separate checklists in my head I know that I am at fault for just being a mother on some days but then I know that there are days when I am the best mom. When I am broken, tired and stressed it's hard to be a mom and not just a mother. But then again I am human. My kids love me and I love them. My husband loves me and I love him. God loves me and I love him. But I also love myself, so even though I strive to travel in the direction of becoming a mom more so than just a mother, I do give myself permission to just be a mother on the days that I can't be a mom. My kids will still love me and they will still be cared for even if I don't make a craft that day. But I also challenge those who haven't taken that leap from mother to mom, who don't stop to breathe in the smell of their children or hug and kiss their dirty little faces. It all disappears so fast, don't let it go without living it through the eyes of a mom rather than just a mother.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Struggle
I find myself thinking back to Bax's first two years more and more, in regards to how much I enjoyed myself and all that we learned and did together. Now as the twins reach two years old in December trying to do a replica of the experiences I had with my first born seem to be a far fetched dream than an achievable reality. Don't get me wrong, I am sure there are these supermoms of twins out there that can handle their toddler twins and four year old like Tim Gunn handles weirdo designers with low self esteem, but I'm not that supermom. I'm that mom who is stuffing peanut butter snack crackers in their kids mouth as I look for the nearest coffee shop.
Let's take a time travel trip to the fall of 2010. Apple fests, pumpkin patches, hayrides, petting zoos? If it was in 10 minutes of our house we were there with little Braxton taking a gazillion pictures and holding hands. Like the front of a Hallmark card. Fast forward to fall 2014. One twin is shoving dirt into a goats mouth rather than petting zoo feed, the other is running down a hill screaming at camels as she tries to make a run for it through an opening in the fence. Who's four year old is that with his shirt on backwards and shouting about the huge slide ride? Oh that's mine too. All three off spring running in different directions, interested in different things, because after all they are very, very different individuals from one another.
I want to punch a pumpkin. But then I'm brought back to reality, I love my kids and I love their dirty faces and germy hands. I love watching my baby girl swell over her first pony ride. I love watching her twin brother stick his chubby hands in the mouth of a goat as he squeals with delight. I love watching my four year old slide down a slide that I am way too chicken to do on my own. All their craziness will soon be tamed and they will be teenagers who won't even want to hang out at "Sonny Acres" on a Saturday morning. So I wipe the PB off my hands and take a deep breath, buy a white pumpkin as my twins shout "BALL" and throw their small gourd pumpkin across the "country barn store." We hurry out to make it to Brax's soccer game in time.
Its hard not to lose yourself as a mom, especially a twin mom. It's a constant struggle. I also don't want to lose my children's childhood moments either. Such struggles. I am blessed with such turmoil, I'm lucky enough to be a mommy. I just gotta pull up my big girl pants and realize each day is zooming by and one day I will get to be selfish again but right now I need to be selfless for my kids because they are my heart no matter the struggle I feel within.
Let's take a time travel trip to the fall of 2010. Apple fests, pumpkin patches, hayrides, petting zoos? If it was in 10 minutes of our house we were there with little Braxton taking a gazillion pictures and holding hands. Like the front of a Hallmark card. Fast forward to fall 2014. One twin is shoving dirt into a goats mouth rather than petting zoo feed, the other is running down a hill screaming at camels as she tries to make a run for it through an opening in the fence. Who's four year old is that with his shirt on backwards and shouting about the huge slide ride? Oh that's mine too. All three off spring running in different directions, interested in different things, because after all they are very, very different individuals from one another.
I want to punch a pumpkin. But then I'm brought back to reality, I love my kids and I love their dirty faces and germy hands. I love watching my baby girl swell over her first pony ride. I love watching her twin brother stick his chubby hands in the mouth of a goat as he squeals with delight. I love watching my four year old slide down a slide that I am way too chicken to do on my own. All their craziness will soon be tamed and they will be teenagers who won't even want to hang out at "Sonny Acres" on a Saturday morning. So I wipe the PB off my hands and take a deep breath, buy a white pumpkin as my twins shout "BALL" and throw their small gourd pumpkin across the "country barn store." We hurry out to make it to Brax's soccer game in time.
Its hard not to lose yourself as a mom, especially a twin mom. It's a constant struggle. I also don't want to lose my children's childhood moments either. Such struggles. I am blessed with such turmoil, I'm lucky enough to be a mommy. I just gotta pull up my big girl pants and realize each day is zooming by and one day I will get to be selfish again but right now I need to be selfless for my kids because they are my heart no matter the struggle I feel within.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Funny Fridays
Finding the funny in being a mommy. I've decided to make Fridays a day of rejoicing in the funny (even the crap that didn't seem so funny at the time) of the week. So here we go:
1. Brax sleeping in just a white undershirt, undies and Spiderman leg warmers.
2. Realizing Brax wore the same leg warmers to school under his pants and to the park.
3. Ripping a hole in the ass of my pants at the park and having to walk all the way home with part of my butt cheek exposed.
4. Attending library story time with all three kiddos and as all the kids participated in listening and dancing to the "scarf song," Travis stood in front of the group completely still with a scarf over his head for 3 whole minutes. Creepy or funny???
5. Travis getting so mad at Hailey he took her by both top of the head pig tails and pulled as hard as he could.
6. While Braxton peed into the toilet Travis grabbed at Brax's "little guy" which caused pee to shoot up at Travis and all over the bathroom.
7. 30 minutes after giving the kids a bath and blow drying Hailey's hair, as she at down to eat dinner she took the gravy on her plate and raked it through the left side of her face and hair. WTF???
8. Getting an email from Brax's soccer coach informing us that the team sponsor would be treating the kids to Dairy Queen after the Saturday game. His sponsor is a dentist ... hidden agenda???
9. One of the rare times I showered and was standing in front of the mirror applying mascara I hear Brax yell "Mom, Travis is standing on the table!!"'
As a follow up to yesterday ... the mom of the little girl was not at drop off or pickup, it was the dad. I should have FOR SURE said something on Wednesday. Hopefully I will have the chance to extend a friendly greeting in the near future. Everything happens for a reason, right?
1. Brax sleeping in just a white undershirt, undies and Spiderman leg warmers.
2. Realizing Brax wore the same leg warmers to school under his pants and to the park.
3. Ripping a hole in the ass of my pants at the park and having to walk all the way home with part of my butt cheek exposed.
4. Attending library story time with all three kiddos and as all the kids participated in listening and dancing to the "scarf song," Travis stood in front of the group completely still with a scarf over his head for 3 whole minutes. Creepy or funny???
5. Travis getting so mad at Hailey he took her by both top of the head pig tails and pulled as hard as he could.
6. While Braxton peed into the toilet Travis grabbed at Brax's "little guy" which caused pee to shoot up at Travis and all over the bathroom.
7. 30 minutes after giving the kids a bath and blow drying Hailey's hair, as she at down to eat dinner she took the gravy on her plate and raked it through the left side of her face and hair. WTF???
8. Getting an email from Brax's soccer coach informing us that the team sponsor would be treating the kids to Dairy Queen after the Saturday game. His sponsor is a dentist ... hidden agenda???
9. One of the rare times I showered and was standing in front of the mirror applying mascara I hear Brax yell "Mom, Travis is standing on the table!!"'
As a follow up to yesterday ... the mom of the little girl was not at drop off or pickup, it was the dad. I should have FOR SURE said something on Wednesday. Hopefully I will have the chance to extend a friendly greeting in the near future. Everything happens for a reason, right?
Thursday, September 25, 2014
I should have said something ...
When I picked Braxton up from school yesterday there was a mom crying. I noticed it as I entered the room. She was by herself and was covering her face as she leaned down to speak to her little girl near her cubbie. Her face was full of pain and her little girl looked wide eyed and confused. The woman hugged her little girl close and kept smoothing her hair. It's been bugging me for the last 24 hours. I was going to ask her if she was okay, put a hand on her shoulder to let her know that I was there. But I didn't. How foolish. I just let her go on hugging her little girl and as they walked out she carried her in her arms to the car. I wonder what was wrong and hope and pray that it isn't too serious. I should have said something, sometimes us moms just need a reassuring voice or a look to know that someone is there and sees us when we are hurting. I hope to see her tomorrow. To ask if she is okay and also a selfish part of me wants to be reassured that in seeing her and her little girl that whatever was wrong isn't completely terrible and that they are there to have a "normal" day. I should have said something. Damnit.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Shake Me Up
Anyone else tired? I need something to shake me up. Seriously. I feel like I should be doing some great craft with my kids or baking some Paleo treat but all I want to do is grab a Dairy Queen hot fudge sundae and sit on the couch and watch Downton Abbey or my DVR recordings. How can I be so sleepy from raising children? Where has my motivation gone this week. Having a cold could be part of my lack of "being in the moment mommy" ... it's touch taking care of three little ones when there is no one to take care of you or to really care that you have the sniffles or your ears feel like someone is sticking sippy cup straws down their canals and blowing. Being a mommy is tough sometimes and it is sometimes hard to find the funny in mommy when "mommy" is said with a whine or a scream at the end. So what to do? Count my blessings or think of the things that make me happy? How about a happy list .... old school sitcoms, pumpkin treats, fall afternoons, rainy mornings, coffee, my mom's hugs, my kids laughing, my husband's sense of humor, a really good book, a really hot bath, snow, boots, jeans, a good hair day, the Food Network, a day when everything goes to plan, pumpkin patches, Christmas tree farms, yoga, the sun, sharing a common bond, a really good daytime talk show, the game show network, old friends, new friends, nut butters, pinterest, new clothes, new shoes, a manicure, a pedicure, being pregnant, being good with NOT being pregnant, cold weather, donuts, coffee shops, coupon clipping, clean floors, folded laundry, new sheets, nap time, long walks. I'm starting to feel better already ... plus I just realized it is nap time and Downton Abbey is in the DVD player and I have a whole playroom to clean. Three cheers for a mommy with a cold finding the happy in the afternoon.
What does bravery mean to me?
What does bravery mean to me? Bravery through self-acceptance in
all facets of life. Brave enough to accept comfort in our own skin no matter
the shape and size. Self-acceptance in our thoughts, those that are kind and
those that are harsh. Self-acceptance in the words we pass to loved ones,
especially our children. Every screenshot of social media and page of popular
magazines tell us that we should feel no shame in saying no to others but
saying yes to ourselves takes a little more… A little more weight loss, a
little more lipstick, a little more leather and silk, a little more toys and
activities for our children, a little more furniture in our home and a little
more house to hold more things. What if we all were brave enough to stop saying
yes to “a little more” and started accepting things the way they were. To be
brave enough to be happy with what we have and who we are in the moment rather
than looking to the “little more.”
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Being a mom puts you into a community of other moms. These other moms can be great while others can be just down right mean. It's like belonging to the world's largest high school clique or college sorority. I read a quote in a magazine yesterday that describes these friendships perfectly "There are friendships for each season of life. Sometimes when these seasons end, the friendship ends too. And that's alright."
After having the twins a whole new season of life started for me. A season where I became not only the mom of twins, but also a mom of three and a mom of not only boys but also a daughter. This season was accepted by some but rejected by others. At first I thought there was something wrong with me, then feeling hurt I of course sais "WTF, something is wrong with them!" But now I have learned that there is nothing wrong with me and there is nothing wrong with them. The seasons are changing in my life and that IS OKAY. Rather than dwell on what I felt had been lost, I am embracing what I had found. I now know to treasure those past friendships and those experiences. They made me a better person and a better mom.
Now as that better person I am embracing those who have now come into my life to join me in THIS season. Living in the present rather than the past. People move in and out of our lives, that's what growing is all about. Growing is a beautiful thing, not a thing to admonish.
The wonderful thing about the mom community is that for each "season" as a mother, there are others who are in the same season or have been there. You can look to those who are in the same walk of life for connection and for those who have been there, for inspiration. But do not forget to be there for others.... those other moms who have yet to come into season and that will look towards you for inspiration, but also those moms who are walking alone in the same season you are standing in.
After having the twins a whole new season of life started for me. A season where I became not only the mom of twins, but also a mom of three and a mom of not only boys but also a daughter. This season was accepted by some but rejected by others. At first I thought there was something wrong with me, then feeling hurt I of course sais "WTF, something is wrong with them!" But now I have learned that there is nothing wrong with me and there is nothing wrong with them. The seasons are changing in my life and that IS OKAY. Rather than dwell on what I felt had been lost, I am embracing what I had found. I now know to treasure those past friendships and those experiences. They made me a better person and a better mom.
Now as that better person I am embracing those who have now come into my life to join me in THIS season. Living in the present rather than the past. People move in and out of our lives, that's what growing is all about. Growing is a beautiful thing, not a thing to admonish.
The wonderful thing about the mom community is that for each "season" as a mother, there are others who are in the same season or have been there. You can look to those who are in the same walk of life for connection and for those who have been there, for inspiration. But do not forget to be there for others.... those other moms who have yet to come into season and that will look towards you for inspiration, but also those moms who are walking alone in the same season you are standing in.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
I had read about twin skin but didn't think anything of it. It was described as accordion like and the pictures they showed in books looked like elephant skin rather than human skin. Well guess what? It does exist. This creature doesn't appear after delivery or even at your 6 week postpartum checkup, nope it rears its' ugly head about 9 months to a year AFTER giving birth to two bundles of joy. It comes about after your hormones are done riding their rollercoaster and that beautiful pregnancy glow has gone MIA. It's there in all it's deflated glory, hanging over the tops of pants when you sit down. Pressing and poking against the material of your shirt, shouting and yelling to strangers "Hey look at me!!" like an attention starved debutant. No diet or exercise will make that sucker disappear because it isn't fat, it's broken in and worn out skin, like your favorite pair of jeans. I fought that little jerk so hard, applying special lotions and potions, pinning special exercises all over my "Body" board, searching Dr. Oz's website like a lunatic for remedies, even wearing the Belly Bandit for 9 straight months every night I slept. To my horror, NONE of it worked! NONE of it made that little man go away! As I sit here right now he is riding along in my favorite jeans with me. So you know what? I have come to terms with that little creature, taunting me in the bathroom mirror, saying hey in the reflection of the grocery store window. I have come to terms with him because, like my favorite pair of jeans, he is worn from love. Developed from the creation of two amazing babies. Stretched by the nurturing of two little marvelous bodies that I cared for and carried for 9 months in my belly. So I will take that twin skin and it's quilted stretch mark mass and wear it with pride as I squish him between myself and two little bodies that I hug with so much love that cannot be contained by heart or stretched out skin.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
New Year, New Resolutions, New FB Annoyances
How do I feel about reading ALL the triumphant 2014 resolutions on FB? … I focus on my even-steven approach … I ate chocolate M&Ms in the pantry ALONE yesterday and then ate rice chips after 7 pm last night but I did work out this morning. I hid in the laundry room from my kids but did so while making sure Brax’s favorite shirt was cleaned for school and his favorite PJs were washed to wear for the14th night in a row. I gave runners the evil eye while taking B to school but then pinned inspirational exercise quotes on my Pinterest board. I chewed sugar free gum with all it’s toxins but did so while making homemade whole grain pancakes for the twins. I drink well over my body weight in water but do so while counting the minutes until my hair appointment this weekend where she will coat my scalp in toxic goo. I rolled around in the grass with my kids and let them pull my hair out of it’s pony tail while they laughed with glee and then threw a microphone at my nose. When I yelled out in pain they cried but I scooped them up and kissed their noses. I bought Hailey a pink chair at Target on Monday but sold a baby swing on Craigslist last night. I sang Jingle Bells with Brax as we brushed our teeth this morning but did so while day dreaming about date night this coming Saturday night. Pretty successful 2014 … beat that Triathlon runners and juice cleansers.
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