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.
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