Being a Mom Means...

There are some things that just come with the territory....

Being a Mom Means:

1.  I am always tired.  It's enlightening to find how little sleep you actually need to function.  Caffeine is a big part of my life.

2.  I have fruit snacks and bubbles in my purse.  And dum-dum wrappers.  And baby wipes.  And small, plastic toys.  And goldfish.  And glitter chapstick.  And a half-eaten granola bar.

3.  I always inspect my drink before taking a sip.  There are two reasons: First, because kids backwash.  I gagged for five whole minutes one time because I took a swig of my orange juice and swallowed a chewed up piece of hash brown with it.  The memory gives me chills.  Secondly, kids stick stuff in your cup when you walk away - like their booger-finger hands to dig out a piece of ice, or random things like Legos (which, thankfully, float).

4.  I am no longer in control of the radio or the television.  Between the hours of 7:00am and 8:00pm, if the T.V. or radio is on, I would be insane to think that I could put it on anything that doesn't involve a Disney character or a furry puppet.  Kid CDs in the car = physical pain. 

5.  My clothes serve the dual purposes of fashion items (HA!) and napkins/tissues.  Wear white pants around a kid eating Cheetos AT YOUR OWN RISK.  And my two-year-old has walked up and used my shirt to actually BLOW HER NOSE before.  I have explained that this is unacceptable behavior, but am met with a real resistance on their part to accept that fact.

6.  There is no such thing as privacy.  The word does not exist.  Shame on you for expecting it!  (I have addressed this previously in 6 Things You Didn't Expect To Miss Doing Alone) 

7.  Every glass surface in my house has fingerprints on it.  Every window (house AND car)...every cabinet front....every mirror....all cell phone and tablet screens....they are all smudged.  Permanently.

8.  Nothing that belongs to me actually belongs to ME.  If it's edible, I might get a bite.  If it's an accessory, I might get to wear it for 5 minutes.  If it has buttons and/or flashing lights, it is immediately confiscated.  If it's a cute bag, it'll be missing by the next day.  If I get caught chewing gum, I better have another piece. 

9.  I have to keep my ninja skills fresh.  The real reason I workout?  So I can army crawl across the floor of a room with a sleeping kid to retrieve something I forgot to get before they went to sleep.  Then do a soundless tuck-n-roll out of the room if they move in any way while I'm in there.

BUT... 

10.  I have more love, laughter, and compassion than I have ever previously had in my life.  I will proudly wear my Cheeto-covered pants (with the smudged cell phone in the back pocket), my snotty shirt, and the dark circles under my eyes and say, "I'm a mom!" 

♥M

To My Baby Brother

A big sister is your first friend...and your second mother.

 

 

Dear Josh,

Today marks 27 years since my first best friend was born.  I was only 15 months old, so I'm kind of fuzzy on the details; but from looking at pictures, it seems like we hit it off straight away. 

For 27 years, you have been my partner in crime.  From climbing the kitchen table to eat crayons together as toddlers (THAT was a fun diaper for Mom, I'm sure), to sneaking through the cow pasture to swim in the pond next door as kids (It was worth the whippin' we got all the way back to the house), to covering for each other as teenagers ("I'm sure I have no IDEA what you mean, Mom...") - each adventure sealed our bond tighter.

For 27 years, I made it my job to protect you, no matter how much bigger you were than me. From punching the neighborhood bully in the manhood after he knocked you out of the tree house (I never did get in trouble for that), to using my position as Yearbook Editor in high school to pull a girl that had broken your heart out of class in order to quietly threaten her into staying away from you (I snapped her picture, waved at the teacher, and sent her skank butt back to English class...hmph!), to standing on my tiptoes so I could reach a guys chest to shove it while telling him to "back off" when y'all were fighting (sorry about that) - it was all worth it and I'd do it all again. I will never, ever stop being your champion. Again, sorry about that.

For 27 years, I have felt your pain or failures as deeply as I would my own.  There were times when my heart would stand still when the phone rang, because I was scared of what would change in my world after I answered.  I still have all of the letters you wrote me from 2007, and when I look at them, I go back in time and remember how it felt to thank God every day that I still had you.  It didn't matter how mad you made me, or how badly I wanted you to let me boss you around - I never loved you one itty-bitty ounce less.  Not. Ever.

For 27 years, I have been proud of you when you did your best, tried your hardest, and never lost your optimism or your sense of humor.  I have never been prouder of you than I am now.  You've made some of the best choices in the last few years; and I am happy just for your being happy.  You worked hard and got a good job, married a beautiful, loyal woman, and have a sweet, adorable baby girl.  You are welcome for my approval of the wife (screw this up and the rest of us are keeping her anyway...just so you know) and for all of the charm that your child (obviously) inherited from her Aunt M. 

So even though you used to blame me when you had accidents as a kid (M did it!  She peed in MY pants!), and even though you don't always let me boss you around (even though I OBVIOUSLY know everything) - I wouldn't trade you for the world.  Happy birthday, baby brother!

I will always be your big sister and I will always love you.

♥M

A Second Love

I've mentioned before that Baby #2 is more than just a bomb in your marriage, they are a major upheaval of all that is normal for your whole family-of-three's dynamic.  With the first baby you worry about being a good parent and being "ready" for all the things that a baby brings.  With the second baby, you worry about the first baby.  A lot.

I was totally unprepared, and had never heard anyone talk about, the overwhelming amount of guilt I felt towards the end of my second pregnancy.  I was terrified of what this second child would mean to my relationship with my first daughter.  I was excited about the baby, couldn't wait to meet her, hold her, and love her....and that made me feel guilty.

My daughter was a relatively easy toddler....because she was used to the whole world revolving around her.  She played what she wanted, when she wanted.  Her stuff stayed where she put it.  If she wanted a snack or a drink, she got it within a reasonable period of time.  She was our whole world because she was our one and only.  That was about to change - and she had no clue it was coming.  I did know...and it made me feel guilty.

Snuggles on demand were no problem when there was only one kid to snuggle.  Sharing our bed wasn't really a big deal because when she crawled in between us in the middle of the night, there wasn't anyone to be jealous of her doing it.  Stopping what I was doing to do what she wanted was a habit because whatever else I had been doing was only something for me anyway, and she was more important.  There was going to be another person to divide my attention away from her now...and that made me feel guilty.

The last few weeks of my pregnancy, I actually cried sometimes from the overwhelming feeling of change that just felt as if it were swallowing me up.  Jace was only 2 years old - she wasn't going to understand what she was feeling once the baby came and I wouldn't be able to explain it to her in any way that she could understand at such a young age.  My biggest fear was that my sweet baby girl would think Mommy didn't love her anymore.  (Now I'm crying just remembering it, ugh!)

The night before my Cesarean, we left her with my parents and I cried like I would never see her again.  It was ridiculous.  I was being torn in half between how excited I was to finally meet my new baby and how awful I felt about "abandoning" my oldest child to go do it.  Don't judge my irrational behavior - pregnancy hormones are a real B.

The other thing I wasn't prepared for was the next morning when they held that wrinkled up little mess of a strawberry-blonde that is my second child up to my face, and I got to kiss her little fingers and stroke her soft cheek before they whisked her off to the hospital nursery.  "Oh my God...I just fell in love again,"  I told James. 

I was wrong about my heart being split in two for two babies.  I was wrong about having to give up some of my love for Jace so that I would have enough for Daire.  I was wrong to ever doubt that my heart couldn't hold them both at the same time.

My heart got bigger.

Now I feel incomplete without them both in my arms.  My world is not divided, it is more complete.  I have more love, get more snuggles, and make or buy two of everything.  The first year was far from smooth and nothing if not a learning experience, but we made it.  For every time my heart broke for having to tell Jace "hold on" or "not right this second" because of the baby, it has swelled ten times over when I see them hug, snuggle, share, and love each other beyond words. 

I will always remember that first love, but I couldn't imagine life without my second.

♥M

To All My Friends! (God Help You.)

I've been thinking a lot this weekend about friends... specifically, that I have really good ones.  More specifically, that I'm not always a great one.

I try.  I really do.  For some reason, I have been blessed with friends in my life that remember birthdays, anniversaries, and even if I mentioned having a doctor's appointment.  I suck at remembering my own birthday, anniversary, AND doctor's appointments.

You will tell me repeatedly when and where you are going on vacation and I will still call you that week and ask if you want to go to the gym or out to dinner because I have no idea where you are. I will probably forget to tell you when I leave for vacation and you will likely not know where I am because every time you asked me when I was going away I said, "I dunno...it's written down somewhere..."

I forget to answer texts, return phone calls, and always R.S.V.P. to things a week after the date on the card.  If you e-mail me and don't get an answer in 5 minutes, then it'll probably be 2 days before it happens.  If you tell me something and DIDN'T see me write it on my hand or put it in my phone, then expect to have to tell me again.

 I periodically scroll through my texts and find a bunch of "drafts" where I started to respond to people that had text me but didn't finish or hit send.  They never got answered and now that person thinks I have ignored them. Crap.

If I don't call you on your birthday, then please know I thought about you AND about calling you at least a dozen times that day....but became immediately distracted each time.  I will probably text you at 11pm and try to play it off.

Unfortunately, the thought doesn't always count. Right now there are two cards sitting on my kitchen counter - a thank you card and a sympathy card. They have post-its on them with the addresses of the people I got them for. It would take less than 5 minutes to mail them. They have been there for a month. The thought does NOT count because neither of those people know that I bought them cards. Epic fail.

Despite what all of this suggests, I am actually NOT totally disorganized.  I am just constantly distracted.  And I am not distracted because I don't care.  Quite the opposite.  I am distracted because I care SO MUCH, that I try to do it all and BE it all.  I try to be the perfect mom, wife, big sister, cousin, niece, grand-daughter, aunt, sister-in-law, teacher, co-worker, church member, sorority member, committee member....and friend.  I spread myself so thin that I end up neglecting everyone.  Except my kids.  They're the loudest, so they always get my attention first.

And yet, if you are my friend, know this:  I love you.  I will be honest with you (sorry about that).  I will FIGHT for you.  I will protect you.  I will give you anything you need - even as literal as the shirt off of my back (or my bra - I gave a friend my bra one time....it's a long story).  I will stop what I'm doing to help you.  I will come over and cook or clean for you if you can't.  I will babysit your kids, no questions asked.  (I will not get distracted and forget they're here, promise.) 

I might forget to call you on your birthday.  I might say something overly honest and offend you.  I might embarrass you in public.  (Don't worry - I embarrass myself too.)  You might have to convince me that you DON'T need me to put on war paint if someone does you wrong. 

Just know, however, that my heart is in the right place...and I AM trying. 

So to all my friends - love y'all!  (Poor souls.)

♥M

Don't Hide Your Feelins'

Lately, there's been this crazy vibe all around me that makes me feel like I'm stuck in some kind of limbo between the Twilight Zone and The Jerry Springer Show.  I have no idea what the cause is, I'm just saying it's there.

Between family drama and work drama and your own drama, sometimes it just feels like you're in a tornado of other people's feelings and emotions.  The only way to get through it is to figure out how to hold on tight....and make sure you keep your feelings separate from theirs.

 

 

The problem with feelings is that we aren't content to just TELL someone how we feel.  No, no.  As a species we have this driving urge to obtain validation, commiseration, and camaraderie for every emotion we experience.  If we're happy, we share it - we want others to share our joy!  (That's cool.)

 

 

 

 

But if we're sad or mad we often feel the need to urge others into feeling the same way, either for or with us.  It's not enough that someone pissed us off, hurt our feelings, or totally blew our mind - we NEED to hear someone SAY "You're right, you SHOULD be mad/sad/mindblown!"  It's like we don't trust ourselves to have feelings without someone else endorsing it.

 

 

Own your own feelings.  Decide how you feel about something or someone based on your own experiences.  Feedback and advice are good...when it's constructive, informative, and FACTUAL.  Don't confuse fact and opinion or allow other people's passions to influence your own.  And when you do have a messy sea to storm, make sure you don't allow others to keep you drowning in it.  If you are over something, it's ok to move on...just reach back and offer to pull the others out with you, without letting them pull you back in.

 

You are in control of YOU.  No one can make you feel any way about any thing unless you allow them to.  "How you act emotionally is a choice in any situation." - Judith Orloff

 

♥M

 

 



 

Not THAT Kind of Dance Mom

My oldest daughter is in her third year of dance and for the most part it's all been a very pleasant experience.  She's always enjoyed it and I've never had to "make" her be an active participant.  There have been moments here and there where I panicked that I was being one of thooooose "dance moms" and pressuring her...like when she didn't want to hold still for me to put her hair up at recital time, or she cried about putting tights on with her leotard.  I feel guilty about those things until she gets to class or goes on stage and I see that big smile and watch how much she enjoys it all.

Tonight was a totally different story.  I don't know if she didn't have a nap, has preschooler PMS, or just had a bad day, but the kid was a mess at class.  She was 100% fine on the way there, willingly bounced into class, then it all just went to hell.  I heard crying and thought "That SOUNDS like Jace, but it can't be...she never cries about dance."  Oh, but it was.  When I went into her classroom she was standing there crying like her heart was broken.  So naturally, mine broke.

Apparently, she was having a meltdown over being in the front row of the routine they were practicing.  Um, what?  I stood there for a few minutes, desperately doing "please stop" hand signals, but that didn't work (shocking, I know).  I waited a few more minutes then tiptoed across the back of the class and squatted down in front of her.  "What's wrong, baby?"  I got zero as far as coherent responses go.  I hugged her for a few minutes...no good.  I took her to the bathroom and cleaned her face and got her to calm down.  She still couldn't tell me what was wrong.

What to do?!  I don't know what's wrong, so I can't fix it.  She wants to go home, but I don't know what the right thing to do is!  I don't want to let her think that throwing a fit gets mom to swoop in and take over!  But I don't want her to cry either!  Uggggh!

I tried a firm approach.  "You have to go back to class. Ballet is over and it's time for Tap.  Your class needs you in there because you're starting recital routines tonight.  If you walk out and quit that's not fair to your friends.  You can't just quit things because you're having a bad time.  We're not leaving."  More tears.  I left her in class thinking she'd dry it up in a few minutes....then paced back and forth outside the classroom door, wringing my hands, listening to her cry. 

Her Ballet teacher tried to comfort her.  Her Tap teacher tried to talk to her.  No go.  The other dance moms were supportive - "She's just tired tonight.  It's Ok, they all go through a phase sometimes."  But I didn't know what to DO!  I was so torn between coddling her to make it all better and trying to "teach" her to be tough.

I took her home.  I don't know if I did the right thing, but I did what FELT right.  I could say it was because I didn't want dance to be ruined for her by forcing her to do it when she wasn't digging it....but the truth is that I just totally caved to my mom instincts and reacted to my baby being in distress.  I really wanted to make a valuable "life lesson" out of the whole thing, but I went weak in the endzone.

On the way home she laughed, smiled, and chattered away.  I lectured her on quitting things before you were done and not always crying to get your way and blah, blah, blah.  She informed me that was "ignoring me 'cause she won't worried about that."  Jesus help me.

Oh, and why WAS she upset to begin with?  If you can take the word of a 4-yr-old about anything after the fact (She can remember what county the fair we went last to summer was in, but has no clue what she did with my car keys just that morning, when I'm late for work) - she was upset because she didn't like the song that the teacher picked for their routine (The Candy Man by Sammy Davis Jr.).  It's a "boy song" and she wants her ballet routine for the recital to be done to the song "I Love It" by Icona Pop.  *forehead slap*

♥M

P.S. Remember those supportive dance moms I mentioned?  So just as I'm feeling really crappy and thinking about all the ways I totally screwed the whole situation up and all the different things I coulda/shoulda said and done...I get this text:

"Loved the way you handled Jace tonight at dance.  You were so loving and maternal.  I have a bad habit of worrying about what others think in situations like that and expecting my daughter to perform and act like a grown-up.  Thanks for being a good example to me...that will stick with me. :)"

Shut the front door, people.  Me?!  A good example?!  I'm not sure I agree, but I am surely flattered and definitely grateful for such kind words.  What a mom-boost!  And who's really the example for who?  As far as I'm concerned, SHE set the example for me - when we think another mom is doing a good job, TELL THEM.  You never know when they may be feeling like crap and NEED to hear something so simple as "Good job, mama!"  ♥

I Told You So

 

 

I did the usual, "What do I want to write about tonight...hmmmm...?" and then decided to give up and give in to the personal rant in my head.  I might as well get it out so I can clear my mind.  I just had such an interesting experience today, that it's still bouncing around in there.

Have you ever had someone tell you, "I know you're right and the other person is wrong, but since they are upset, you just need to agree to make them feel better."  That's a summary of a super awesome 30 minutes of my life that I won't get back from today.

Here's the thing - I almost said, "Ok."  Then something happened...and I have a pretty good hunch what it was.  It's this damn blog.  I told you in my very first post that the freedom of speech afforded to me by writing on the world wide web could go to my head and things could get crazy.  "No, it'll be great!" they said.  "Start a blog!" they said. 

NOT that I was inclined to hide my feelings before I started the blog, but I have lost juuuuust a little bit more of my ability to remember that there is no backspace when you're talking out loud to an actual person.  Oh, yeah. Whoops.

So I did not say, "Ok."  Instead I expressed my condolences that the person was "highly upset" with me, but that I felt it fair to share that I myself was "highly upset" at being expected to fold over and accept blame for something that I hadn't done.  Furthermore, I cited a dozen AWESOME things that I had done for this person without anyone noticing THOSE things - so if we were going to say that I had screwed something up - when I DIDN'T - then let's make sure we paint the whole picture.  I get no pleasure out of anyone else being upset, but MAN, am I sick of there being no consideration given to the fact that I have feelings too.

Should I have just said, "Ok?"  Maybe....but sometimes you have to remind people (and yourself) that being easygoing and laid-back is not the same thing as being a doormat.  Just because I can get along with anyone doesn't mean that I won't push back.

 

All done.  Thanks for listening! ;)

♥M

High on Aspiration, Low on Ability...Part 3

 

Time for an update!  I know you're dying to know how my training is going for the Rugged Maniac.  It probably keeps you up at night, wondering.  If so, then this blog post is just for you!

I have 11 more weeks to go and I can finally run a whole 3 miles without dying.  That was where I set my bar, so anything from this point on is just me being an overachiever.  I've also been lifting weights, etc. in preparation for the obstacle courses, but I'm not going to lie....most of my plan for that particular challenge is just to make it to the top of stuff and then sort of fall over the side.  Or to hold onto my brother-in-law's ankle and let him drag me through the tunnels.  Eh, I have some time still to work on that particular part of the plan.

I have NOT injured myself any further.  I mean, I did cut my pinkie toenail too short before I ran the other day, but I'm recovering nicely, thank you.

 I also gave serious thought while running past the fire department to laying on their doorstep and dramatically flinging my arm against the door until they opened it, then gasping out a plea for a hit off of one of the oxygen tanks.  I didn't act on that fantasy at the time, but I have not discarded it as a bad idea for the future.

I am still miserable on the treadmill.  I have accepted my lack of coordination and make my best efforts to run on ground that stays still.  I actually had to tell someone that I couldn't speak to them last week at the gym, because if I try to talk and run on that devil machine at the same time, I WILL fall off.

 

I got nervous about the Rugged Maniac being my first 5K everrrr....so I signed up for one in April to get the nerves out.  It's called The Race to Parenthood and I'm pretty stoked about the cause and the fact that 100% of my registration went to my sponsored couple's fund.  I plan on ordering this T-shirt to run in...just in case.

 

 

 

 

I bragged that I can "run" 3 miles, but I'm NOT going to tell you how long it takes me.  Let's just say that sometimes I worry about people looking out of their windows in the morning and saying "There goes that weird girl that runs in place on the sidewalk again..."

 

 

To recap:  1) Finishing the 5K = possible because I AM now able to make it that distance and breathe to tell about it.  2) Injury free to date.  3) Not a rock star, but feeling pretty badass.


♥M

Why I Go To Church

I obviously go to church first and foremost because being a member of a community of like-minded believers is part of practicing my faith.  There are many other reasons I get out of the bed on Sunday mornings, however.  These are a few...

10 Reasons I Go To Church:

1. Being a mom is hard.  Being a Christian mom requires a support team.

2. I really want my kids to know more about Bible characters than Disney characters.

3. I would feel a lot better about realizing that the girls can sing along to risque Katy Perry or Kesha songs (that I didn't realize they had soaked up like little sponges - crap!) if they at least can remember the words to the worship songs on Sunday morning.

4. If we keep going, maybe ONE DAY my husband will stop saying, "Do we HAVE to go to church this week?!"

5. Everyone needs a time-out from life to put priorities back in place.

6. It feels good to be in a place where no one expects you to be perfect...because we've all admitted that we're not - just by being there.

7. Who doesn't like hearing about a man that loves you so much, he died for you?!  Seriously.

8. I want my kids to have a "safe place" where they can ask questions, go through awkward life phases, and have more than just Mom and Dad to hold their hand through it.  (Mom and Dad get super stupid when you're a teenager - I remember - and if they want to ask someone other than me questions about sex, drugs, and alcohol.... I'd vote youth pastor over the senior in high school that rides their school bus.)

9. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by all of the things I feel like I can't do right, that I need to catch a deep breath and be reminded that everything's going to be OK.

10. Because God said so.  Sabbath and all that.  Not that I always do what I'm told, but I like to think I'm decent at choosing what (and WHO) I take on.

Am I embarrassed when my 4-year-old dumps a bag of goldfish all over the pew, or my 2-year-old leaves the Children's sermon to wander around the sanctuary, waving at people like she's in a Miss America pageant?  Yeah.  But we're there!  I might not be the best Christian mom, but I'm trying my best.  Most of the time.  Usually.

"Being a Christian demands constant progression, not perfection." - Unknown

♥M

Jumping the Fence

Tonight's blog post is a bit of a plea for feedback.  I'm preparing for my new journey staying at home next year... and my decision to "jump the fence."  Instead of dropping my kids off every morning, I thought - "Why not let people drop their kids off here?"  It's the perfect middle ground, really.  Next year is Jace's last year before starting Kindergarten, so I had planned on "playing school" and getting her ready.  Why not make it the real deal and teach other kids too? 

The hubs is on board (Woohoo!) and has graciously allowed me to delegate many things onto his to-do list.  The most exciting of all - turning our backyard into a preschool-sized playground.  I'm way more excited about that that he is.  Probably because he has to build it. 

In just the few months since I started sharing all of this, I've already had people shake their heads and call me crazy.  "Why would you want EXTRA kids running around?!"  .....What?!  Why wouldn't I?!  That's my job now, crazy!  I take care of and teach 20 students while juggling the county, state, and federal requirements every day!  What the heck kind of work is half a dozen to me!  I won't be doing anything different than I would be with just my kids...I'll just be doing more of it.  Plus, I happen to like kids.  So that helps.

This is the part I would like feedback on:  I sat and typed up a list of questions that I have ever asked any babysitter I've interviewed...and a few that I WISHED I had asked later.  I thought I could share that list with you and get some feedback on what you might add, etc.  Here's my list:

1. What made you decide to start taking care of other people's children?
2. What age children are you keeping?
3. What are your qualifications/experience?
4. What are your drop-off and pick-up times?
5. How much do you charge?
6. Do I still have to pay for a full week if my child leaves early/arrives late/misses a day?
7. What do you provide and what do I have to send?
8. What other adults will my child be exposed to?
9. How do you handle discipline?
10. What if YOUR kids are sick?
11. What if YOU are sick?
12. What if you have a doctor's appointment?
13. Are there any pets in your home?
14. What if my child gets hurt?
15. How will I know about my child's day (what they ate, how nap was, etc.)?


See anything missing?  What pet peeve have you had to deal with when looking for childcare?  I appreciate all feedback! :)

♥M

Happy Valentine's Day!

Single or coupled, today's about LOVE!  I choose to think it's not just about romantic love, but a day to celebrate all the people in your life that make you feel special the other 364 days of the year. For me that happens to primarily be my husband and children, but also my friends and other family as well.

A lot of people think that if you don't have a significant other, then Valentine's Day sucks.  If you don't have anyone to make you feel special - then go make someone else feel special!  ♥

Tonight the hubs and I cooked dinner for my grandparents while trying to keep the kids from destroying their non-baby-proof house.  We had a great time, ate, laughed and told stories....then I kissed my kids and hubby goodnight, and they went home.  I'm crashing on my grandparents' couch, munching on some Hershey kisses I found in the pantry, and getting my I.D. channel fix.  I probably should have checked the date on the Hershey kisses, but hey, a little extra buzz off chocolate can't be a bad thing...right?

My grandma says I'm here to babysit them, but I don't have the heart to call it that.  I prefer being called "the muscle."  I mean, I DO workout...

Actually, I just thought my aunt might want to spend Valentine's Day with HER hubs, since she's been sleeping here every night.  I see my hubs every day, and we can go on a date whenever (hahaha!) so what difference does it make if we go out tonight? None. And like I said, today doesn't always HAVE to be about romance, it can just be about the little things that let people know you love them.

So don't mope around if you're unattached!  Once you ARE attached,  you're just as indifferent to the balloons, chocolate, and flowers. They're nice, but I like balloons on my birthday, flowers just because it's Tuesday, and chocolate everyday!

Happy Valentine's Day!

♥M

P.S. If you ARE on a hot date tonight....then get off the Internet and do your thing, crazy!

P.P.S. If your night is more "Hershey kisses & chillin' on the couch" like mine, and you'd like a love story to read in honor of our holiday, then check out these posts! ;)

Another Crazy Love Story: So I met this guy...

Another Crazy Love Story: The Honeymoon Phase

Another Crazy Love Story: The Baby Years

What's Going On Around Here...?!

Something weird is going on.  The hubs is running plays that I can't figure out.  Last weekend, he fixed the dishwasher....and I hadn't even complained about it being broken.  Then he cleaned the house while the kids and I were out all day Sunday.  Tuesday he fixed dinner because I got home late....without me asking him to.  This morning he hopped right out of bed when the girls woke up, and let me sleep late.  When I got up, he had installed the smoke detector that I've been setting in the middle of the kitchen counter for two years so that he would see it and install it... as opposed to see it and put it back in the closet...which he did every time he saw it...for two years.

I have come up with a list of possible reasons for all of this extra benevolence:

1. He just really loves me.  (Hahahahaha)
2. Drugs.  I don't know what kind....which ever ones have a "doing household chores" side effect.
3. He's committed a crime and is building up to telling me that we have to join the witness protection program....and move to Kansas....and I'll have to work as a wellhead pumper.
4. The shelves I asked him to hang in November are still 'hanging' out in the floor...NOT on the wall. (Can't complain about that NOW, can I?!  Well played, hubs....well played.)

5. I found where he HID the Christmas decorations... as opposed to putting them back in their boxes in the shed.

6. Aliens.  I don't have a really specific scenario in mind (I avoid sci-fi as a general rule) but I know they make people do weird stuff.

7. He bought something crazy and expensive and is hiding it in his car until juuuuust the right moment.  (He knows big surprise purchases go over with me about as well as accidentally stapling my finger to a stack of papers.)

8. He's going to try and talk me into moving to the Klondike and mining for gold again.  Thank you, Discovery Channel, for that awesome hit series, "Gold Rush."  NOT.

9. He's hiding money from a bank robbery in the cabinets around the house, so he keeps cleaning and putting stuff away so I won't find it. 

10. He is just plain scared of me.  This is why:

 

Sidenote:  Notice that NONE of my suspicions involve another female.  Why?  Because if there's one thing I spend very little time worrying about, it's the hubs putting up with another female in his life.  He has a crazy wife and two drama queen daughters - if he were to sneak off and have alone time, it's way more probable that I would find him on a golf course or playing poker than entertaining another broad.

 

Regardless of his motives (or lack thereof), I believe there's a Benjamin Disraeh quote that is applicable here - "I feel a very unusual sensation - if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude."

 

 

****Love you, James...Happy (early) Valentine's Day!****

♥M

 

 

 

Terrible twos...threes...fours?!

Why do two-year-olds get such a bum rap?  The phrase "terrible twos"  is just inaccurate.  For one thing the "terrible" behavior starts well before 2 years....and it definitely lasts longer than 3. 

I have to tread lightly when complaining about my kids and the stuff they say because it's not like I can blame it on anyone else.  Between the hubs and myself there's no hope for them to escape their genetic predisposition to eventually mature into some curious combination of sass and smartass.  Usually, I get a real mirror check by way of hearing something outrageous cross their lips.  (Jace to her sister: "You are acting straight up ugly!  Carry that to another room, girl!"  Daire to Jace: "I'ma get you BUTT!")

I'm so used to the dramatic scenes of these two tiny females that sometimes, even in the midst of full-on hysteria, I can maintain a single train of thought about whatever it is that I continue doing.  Now, before you think I'm totally heartless, I'm not talking about when they are physically or emotionally hurt.  There's a big difference between being hurt and having a tantrum.  Boo-boos get kisses and hurt feelings get heart-to-heart talk-time (on a preschool level....this usually involves 4-5 interruptions of "Hey, guess what?" before we're "done".)  Tantrums get squat except me stepping over you to go about my business.

A good example would be this morning-  Daire wanted my makeup while I was getting ready for work.  I told her no.  She cried.  I offered to put lip gloss on her.  She threw herself in the floor.  I offered to let her put the lip gloss on herself, but would only relinquish control of the applicator, not the actual tube of lip gloss.  She smacked the applicator from my hand and rolled around in the floor.  I picked her up and put her in time out.  She went limp and slid from the chair, into the floor and lay, spread-eagle, sobbing uncontrollably in the hallway.  30 seconds later she was back in the bathroom, doing pull-ups on the vanity and knocking whatever she could reach off of the counter.  I picked her up and put her back in timeout.  She flung herself face first out of the chair, into the floor and kicked her tiny legs until her shoes flew off.  The whole thing lasted a good 20 minutes and not once did she stop screaming at an unearthly decibel, "MY MAKEUUUUP!"

That, my friend, is a tantrum.  What. Is. The. Proper. Response. To. THAT.

I'm always reading these mommy articles, blogs and books looking for parenting advice.  I mean, my kids are awesome, but they do a lot of crap that makes me go "wonder how to fix THAT."  Y'know like TANTRUMS.  Let me tell you what TICKS ME OFF about all this great parenting advice - it sounds good until you use it.  Be real people, ALL kids are different and mine - yeah, they aren't following the little scripts that you wrote out for us to follow.  For example...

Advice: If your child does 'A' then you should respond with 'B.'  They will then do 'C' and everyone will be happy and bake cookies and play in a spotless playroom just like the one in the picture at the top of this article where the mom and kid are laughing together from having solved all their differences amicably and butterflies are coming out of everyone's butt.

Real life: My child does 'A' so I respond with 'B.'  Then they do 'G,K,L,Y,' and say 'V,R,W.'  Now I'm trying to figure out what page all of that is on and what I did wrong with my application of 'B.'  No cookies, no playroom, and no butterflies.

What IS the proper response to tantrums?  I mean, I guess I could prevent them by... I dunno, always letting them have their way, but I'm not really down with that... for a lot of reasons.  I'm more of a, "Hey, go cool off and get back to me" kind of mom.  But is that effective?!  I mean, my oldest is almost 4 and she regularly has these PMS-type emotional outbursts. ("How could you offer me Kix cereal instead of Honey Nut Cheerios?!  I will NEVER be your best friend AGAIN!!!"  Cue dramatic flop onto her bed and sobbing.) Sooooo.....does this just last until they're like, 30 years old?  Or is there a break somewhere between 5 and 13?! 

This is one of those nights where I call my mom and apologize for my childhood transgressions.


♥M

Who's in Charge Here?!

Do you know the difference between a good leader and bad leader?

A good leader is admired by those that they lead.  They have integrity and self knowledge and encourage others to do the same.  Good leaders recognize their own strengths and weaknesses and urge others towards realizing their own.  They offer support, hope, and motivation to others.  They listen.  They inspire.  They unify their group based on common goals for the good of the whole.  They seek to promote the interests of their cause regardless of personal image. 

A good leader uses their charisma to make things happen...but not at the expense of those who are loyal to them.

A bad leader is toxic.  They use their superior social skills to quickly gain the trust of followers, but eventually will resort to abusing and undermining them.  A bad leader demands that their needs be served above those of the joint cause.  They use authority and fear to prevent anyone from questioning them. They demand respect rather than earn it.  They dominate.  They demean others for the purpose of distracting from their own shortcomings.

A bad leader will sacrifice the morale, ability, and productivity of the group in order to move themselves forward.

When a bad leader is in charge....are they really leading anyone anywhere?  If people are forced to follow them for fear of punishment or retribution, then no loyalty bonds the members of that group to the person leading it.   The divisions created amongst the followers as a result of the direct manipulation of the leader does nothing to achieve goals or produce results.  Instead you end up with small groups that each think they know how best to progress towards a finish line that may or may not exist.  Disjointed cliques form amongst the previously seduced followers who have begun to resist the tyranny and domination of the bad leader.  The bad leader depends on this chaos and disunity created in the course of their reign in order to hold onto their position.

In anticipation of the dust settling, a bad leader will ensure that they alone are left standing and those they have been charged with navigating are reduced to spasmodic groupings...each pointing the finger at the other in an effort to place the blame for unchecked ambitions.

Do you know who you are following?

♥M

20 Reasons I Can't Fall Asleep at Night

Maybe I sound like a 5 year-old, but....I hate bedtime.  I don't know if that's a medical condition or some type of repressed defiance from having a ridiculously early curfew imposed upon me in Junior COLLEGE, but either way, the struggle is real when trying powering down at night.  When the sun goes down, my brain goes nuts.  THIS is when I remember the name of that guy from that show that did that movie that came out when I was in high school that I was trying to think of earlier today.  THIS is when I decide to do major home projects or organize my closet. THIS is when I decide to catch up on two weeks of laundry.  THIS is why it's no surprise that I'm not a morning person.

I think the technical term is "Night Owl."  I call it "Mommy's Quiet Time."  This is when I pay the bills, fold towels, download music for my running playlist, grade papers, scroll through Facebook, load the dishwasher, call my girlfriends, have an uninterrupted conversation with my husband, and oh yeah - write blog posts.

I have to play mind games with myself to actually make it as far as getting into the bed.  I do this thing where I set my alarm clock for the next morning and then it turns into a countdown.  "If you go to bed now, then you'll get 6.5 hours of sleep!" "Nah, I'm still good.  I'll just finish (random thing) first." "You'll be sorryyyy...." "No one asked you - now be quiet, Law & Order: SVU is on."

Once I finally make it so far as to physically go to bed, I have to begin the mental shutdown.  These are some of the things usually bouncing around while I'm trying to do so...

20 Reasons I Can't Fall Asleep at Night:
(*This is not an exclusive list and the contents vary on a regular basis.)

1. I compose blog posts in my head.
2. I have to make notes about the blog posts in my head so I'll remember them when it's actually a good time to write a blog post.
3. I think about the Gremlins movie....yeah, that'll keep you awake.
4. I mentally construct a killer grocery list.  I will remember none of it tomorrow.
5. I start ticking through the contents of the dozen bags I have packed for the next day (work papers, laptop, lunch, diaper bag, gym bag, dance bag, etc.) to determine if I forgot anything.  If I did, I make a mental note to remember it in the morning.  (I won't.)
6. I imagine various alarming scenarios involving someone breaking into the house if I fall asleep and how it would all play out.  I usually end up saving everyone...obviously.
7. I hum songs that are stuck in my head.  Unfortunately, they are not cool songs.  They are the theme songs to Sofia the First or Good Luck Charlie.
8. I decide that I should paint my nails tomorrow.  (I won't.)
9. I feel thirsty so I get up and drink a whole glass of water....20 minutes later I realize a sip or two probably would have sufficed because now I have to get up again. Ugh.
10. I come up with the perfect seating arrangement for my classroom.  (I won't be able to remember it tomorrow.)
11. I think of the perfect comebacks for anything really crappy that someone said to me that day.
12. I wonder how X's mom is doing, how Y's grandfather's surgery went, and if Z ever heard back about that thing.  I vow to remember to ask them all tomorrow.  (I won't.)
13. I remember seeing Jeepers Creepers in the theatre.  It messed me up, man.
14. I mentally redecorate the living room.
15. I mentally put all the clean clothes away....damn,..they're still there in that basket in the corner.
16. I laugh out loud at something funny from work that happened 3 days ago.
17. I remember that I forgot to e-mail somebody.  (I'll forget again by tomorrow.)
18. I try praying, then get distracted, then go back to praying, then get distracted again, then just give up trying to be all formal about it.  (He can hear it all anyway, duh.)
19. I get up to triple check whether I locked the front door or not.  (I did.  I unlock it then relock it... again... just to make sure.)
20. I pretend like I'm asleep when James growls at me and says, "Go to sleep!"

All of this is why I limit my caffeine intake.

♥M

Not a Nutritionist

 

There is one Mommy War that I will never be able to participate in.  I will not win, and refuse to even compete in, the "Food Battle."  It's not that I'm a sore loser, I just have a lot of things to choose from when it comes to stressing out....and this is not one of them.

I just think I would be much more likely to invest the resources necessary for eating the "perfect food" if:
A) I didn't have a job, or anything else to distract me from the constant necessary research into which foods are going to kill me or are the most humane...this week (it changes fairly often).
B) I had a six figure budget to spend on the outrageously priced items necessary to eat as "hip" as all the other hippies.
C) My kids were never, ever going to be exposed anywhere at anytime to foods other than the ones I allowed them to eat.

Don't get me wrong, I'm totally pro-healthy food.  My kids eat fruits, veggies, nuts, cheeses, yogurt, whole grains, etc.  I'm not feeding them twinkies for breakfast or anything - I just try to encourage "healthy eating" without being a total buzzkill at birthday parties.

With that said - Have I let them eat popcorn for breakfast before?  Yes, I will admit to that.  In my defense, it was one of those mornings where they had taken turns waking each other up all night, it was just me and the girls the next morning, we were all super exhausted and kinda weepy...so yeah, I was only half conscious and totally handed over the oh-so politely requested popcorn (i.e. it was screamed at me).  I knew even in my weary, bloodshot state that there would be 101 more things to fight about that day (before nap time); and with that knowledge, I could totally live with popcorn for breakfast.

If you don't have children yet, please let me warn you now - every lunch you pack,  every meal you cook, and every trip to the grocery store will be prime fodder for a "Food Battle" with some hipster who lives and breathes judging other people's diets. 

Think you're doing good for packing fruits and veggies in the lunch?  WRONG! Is it local produce?  Is it "certified organic?"  Was it grown on a "pesticide free" farm?  Did the farmer test the irrigation water for safety?!

Ok, so dairy is good for you, right?  Some low fat yogurt, 2% cheese, milk....WRONG!  Milk is a deadly poison that contains growth hormones, fat, cholesterol, allergenic proteins, antibiotics, bacteria and viruses.  (I actually read that somewhere, as much as I would like to claim the neurotic statement...)

Well, everyone needs meat.  I'll just make sure I get the "lean" kind...right?  WRONG!  Do you know where that meat came from?  Not what state - what farm?!  Was the animal grass-fed?  Was it free-range?  Was it organic grass-fed in an organic pasture?!  Otherwise you're eating parasites, germs, and hormones.  Idiot.

Don't suggest fish, please.  There is the sea lice infestation to consider, after all.  Omega-3s be damned!

Whole grain (or any grain) = death by lectins, gluten, and phytates.

Does your head hurt?  Yeah, so does mine...every time I am graced with a new one of these life-style threatening factoids.  And yet, knowing all of these things, I still allow my children to eat boxed macaroni and cheese and deli meat.  I hate that I aaaalmost feel bad about it...and then I don't. 

If they end up in jail for street racing or lose their college funds in an underground poker tournament, then I'll just blame the phytates and allergenic proteins.

♥M

Things That Get Me Through

 

Some days you just need a pick me up - especially at work - and it's all about the little things.  These are a random collection of some of those little things that have given me a boost here and there during my workday.

1. My kids knowing me better than I know myself:

Me: (after getting tongue tied during a math lesson) I don't know what's wrong with me!
Student:  It's because you forgot to drink your Diet Pepsi after recess.
Me:  Wow...you're right.
Student:  I know.


2. Awesomely wrong test answers:

Q: What is one form of art that the First Americans contributed to our society today?
A:  Martial Arts

(I had a good laugh...after I finished banging my head on my desk.)


3. Learning about the perspective of our country's economy from 7-year-olds:

4. Unabashed, and unconditional forgiveness from children:

On Halloween, one of my "ninjas" asked me to tie his sleeve up, and I did. In a bow. He just stood there for a second, until I realized....

"Ninjas don't do bows, do they?"
"Umm...not really."
"Sorry, man. I only have girls."
"It's ok."

The gracious ninja allowed me correct my bow into a manly knot.


5. Awesome co-workers that "get me"...and my sense of humor:

From: Me
To: Co-Worker
Subject: Report Cards...Done, Done, Dooone

My former egregious error of utilizing the terminology "Honor Roll" has been thoroughly corrected and exacting pains were taken to remove the aforementioned offensive language, eradicating the term in it's entirety from both my report cards and my vocabulary in a most permanent nature.

They can be reprinted at your convenience and your leisure.

Warmest regards to you.

*****

From: Co-Worker

To: Me

Subject: Report Cards...Done, Done, Dooone
 

Your efficiency and expediency in the tumultuous and unequivocally important manner is completely appreciated and magnanimously applauded.

6. Hearing "Look what I drew!" and getting so much more entertainment than I expected when I look:

 

Like I said, it's all about the little things...

♥M



Friday Night Lite

Friday nights are not what they used to be. 

I used to think I was having fun, before I had kids; but I just didn't know any better.  Now I know what REAL fun is.  Real fun is coloring a picture together (or twelve), playing Barbies, building blanket forts, and having tea parties that turn into tickle fights. 

I still dress up on Friday nights, only in plastic jeweled tiaras and Hello Kitty necklaces now.  I still go out, but it's in an imaginary carriage... to an imaginary ball... in my living room.  (Way better parking than at the club or bar, by the way.)

I still dance on Friday nights, but now it's to the Elmo Potty Song and the Disney Jr. Soundtrack.  And I can do it in my socks, instead of heels.  Winning.

Eating hot dogs and mac-n-cheese on a blanket in the living room floor beats any meal in a fancy restaurant. (That's their "thing" right now...eating in the floor. I learned that if I throw down a blanket and call it a "picnic," they will eat almost ANYTHING I cook, including "green stuff." I draw the line at spaghetti though. Spaghetti is NOT a picnic food...despite their arguments in an attempt to build a case for it.)

Sometimes, when we're saying bedtime prayers ("Dear God, Tank you ever-ting and ever-body.  Pease let Sissy do not kick me tonight. Amen") or when they put their little hands on my cheeks and kiss me goodnight ("I love you, Mommy!" "Wuv ew, mama!"), I feel like my heart will burst.  I try to remember what things were like before they existed, and it's all a haze of meaningless, skewed priorities. 

Friday nights are not what they used to be... They are much, much better.

♥M

May I Have Your Attention, Please?

I was going to wait until Spring to be all official about "announcing" anything, but the Spirit has moved me to do it now...

I'm totally kidding!  I live in a small town, so most people that I know personally (and probably many that I don't), already know that I'm not returning to my job as a classroom teacher next school year.

Why?

Well, I could say it's because I'm tired of teaching....but I'm not.  I love teaching.

I could say it's because of the the insane amount of paperwork and "documentation," and the increasingly unrealistic expectations made of my profession....but I suppose a lot of jobs are like that.

I could say it's because I can't handle all of the politics and drama....but I do.  I handle it daily; and have done so for several years now.

Maybe it's because of all the *ahem* "enthusiastic" parents out there?  I mean, I HAVE been cursed, threatened, harrassed, bullied, and slandered.  Nope.  I'm good at my job, so I say "bring it."

Or could it be that I'm tired of being a punching bag for administration?  Nah - I've been through enough crap to have earned a black belt in the art of defending oneself against psychological warfare...so you'll have to practice your mental "mind-ninja" tactics on someone else.

Ok...so WHY?

BECAUSE... I decided that dealing with all of the beforementioned things is just not worth leaving my two girls at the babysitter every day. 

I just can't help but to feel like I'm giving up the blessing that is time with MY children in order to face a daily battle as an army of one in the good fight that is making a difference for my students.  It's discouraging to spend your days sacrificing the bulk of your time away from your own children, trying to "make a difference," just to be told on a regular basis that all of the caring, compassion, and help that you give other people's kids every day is not enough and never will be. 

I have just plain grown weary of being told to acheive miracles...then having every rug pulled out from under me, every ladder rung I must climb sawed through, and having to do it all with a blindfold on.

This was NOT a decision made lightly, or quickly, but what it ultimately came down to was this:
I have two passions - teaching and making a difference.  Next year I'll be doing both of them....at home.

♥M

Awkward Anonymous

They have a support group for everything these days. I'm not knocking that, I'm just disappointed that a certain group seems to have been overlooked - awkward people.  I say that as a potential member.

"Hi, my name is M and I'm an awkward person." What a sense of relief that would bring - to announce it straightaway upon meeting a new group of people!  It would save me all of the trouble of demonstrating it.

I'm not selectively awkward, either. I display my social disabilities without discrimination of time or place.

Weddings:
I've been the matron of honor three times in the past few years...and I can only imagine that's because none of them had been to the previous weddings and didn't know any better than to ask me.  I ruin photos (not a single photogenic muscle in my face).  I suck at paying attention during rehearsal.  And the part that should exclude me from consideration for the role altogether: you give a speech...with a microphone. These people knew me...well...and gave me a microphone anyway.  You take it to that level, and I can only be but so responsible for what happens from there.

Funerals:
I am not just awkward at funerals - I'm inappropriate.  Death and seriousness and crying....it makes me act out. I can't handle the intensity of sadness and so I make jokes.  I cope by talking about anything other than what's right in front of us.  It's not all my fault - I have this superpower where I literally absorb and feel other people's emotions (empathy times infinity), so funerals send me into a manic mode of distraction. Most awkward thing that I've ever done at a funeral: I asked the person next to me if they had any tissues (the eulogy did me in)....

"No, sorry, I don't have any."
"Crap. I'm crying like a baby here. Would it be weird if I just used a Kotex? I have some of those in my purse..."

And the woman laughed. During the eulogy.  I just made someone laugh during a eulogy. Oh my God, why am I allowed out of my house?!

Compliments:
These are always guaranteed to bring the awkward right out, front and center.  Tell me I look pretty and I'll point out the zit on my chin. Tell me my hair is nice and I'll tell you about my split ends.  Admire my outfit and I'll deflect by telling you I got it on clearance and there's a pick in the sleeve.  Compliment my work, parenting skills, creativity, loyalty....ANYTHING...and I will immediately correct you with a recent example of a screw-up.

I'm pretty sure the proper response is "Thank you" in all of those situations.   I've tried it out for size, but it just sounds so..."I know I am, duh." that it won't quite roll of my tongue. Or if it does, the deflection is on it's heels.

I did come up with ONE coping mechanism.  Complete and utter feigned arrogance. This will deflect the compliments themselves,  thus solving the awkward problem.  New problem - now you're a jerk.

And I say again...we need a support group.  Awkward people of the world, unite!

♥M

Happy One Month, "NOT a How-To Guide!"

Today is the ONE MONTH anniversary of my blog!  I wasn't sure about starting it originally, but it's been an interesting endeavor so far.  I love turning thoughts into writing and, to a degree, this has just been a self-assigned, extended creative writing exercise.  I've experimented with different genres and topics, and I thank you all for being my guinea pigs! :) 

 

 I don't know what's "good" or "bad" as far as stats go because I have ZERO experience with all of this; but here is where "Marriage, Kids, Life...NOT a How-To Guide" stands as of now:

 

 -The page has had 5,355 "hits."

 

 -I have 30 total posts and they have all (with the exception of the 2 newest) been viewed anywhere between 104 and 250 times each.

 

 -The two most popular posts have been High on Aspiration, Low on Ability (250 views) and Love...With or Without the Memories (229 views).

 

 -My Blogger audience consists of readers in the United States, Canada, Germany, the Netherlands, France, and Poland.

 

 -The blog's facebook page https://www.facebook.com/notahowtoguide has 282 "likes."

 

 -The blog has a new Google+ account  google.com/+NotahowtoguideBlogspotM  and a new Twitter account https://twitter.com/NotaHowToGuide (follow @NotaHowToGuide)

Sidenote: You have no idea how much mental energy it took for me to join the masses on these additional social media sights.  I'm not the typical member of Generation Y.

 

 I'm honestly not sure what any of these "stats" and updates mean in relation to whether this has been a successful venture or not, but it seems like a good start.  Either way, I'm enjoying myself!  If you have enjoyed reading along on my journey, then please continue to share, share, share!  I don't know where all of this is going to end up, but let's see how far we can take it!

  

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to all of my readers! 

Y'all are what started this AND what keeps it going.

  

♥M

Another Crazy Love Story (Part III)

Part III: The Baby Years

In 2009, we decided we wanted to be a family of three.  In 2010, we had a perfect baby girl, and named her Jace.  Jace was the equivalent of a bomb going off in our lives.  It's very confusing to be in love with each other, then have this little person suddenly take over.  It's not about quantity - you don't love one more than the other.  It's just a different kind of love, but one that's equally intense. 

We survived as well as new parents do.  We were cranky from being up all night.  We learned that trial and error are the ONLY way to learn what makes YOUR baby happy....NOT the 50 baby books on the coffee table or the 200 people telling you how to do everything.  James was extremely supportive when I wasn't able to breastfeed, like I planned.  I learned to let go of my focus on making things go the way I had planned, and instead focus on handling things the way that they went.  Jace made our hearts bigger just by coming into the world.  She was the best thing that had ever happened to us.

The summer after Jace turned one, people kept teasing me, "Time to have another baby!"  I kept saying, "Not yet - We need a bigger house!"  The teasing made me paranoid though, so I took a pregnancy test.  James and I just stared at it for a few minutes....then looked at each other and busted out laughing.  How in the world was this going to work?!  We live in an apartment sized house, and we were drowning in paying student loans!  And yet, we were over the moon excited and couldn't wait to meet Baby #2.  I was, however, fully aware of the fact that I would have to hear those exact same concerns from anyone that we announced my pregnancy to.  I wanted to bask in my joy a little longer...before I had to fend off all of the "helpful" people.  ("Oh my God, you're going to move aren't you?!"  Yes, I just took maternity leave and am pregnant again, so we can definitely spring for new digs.  "How are you going to afford to pay for two kids at the sitter?!"  Well, we're just going to leave one in the backyard while we're at work...it's fenced in.) 

Plus, I was the matron-of-honor in an upcoming wedding, and thought it would be a pretty crap move to announce that I was pregnant in the middle of throwing bridal showers, planning a bachelorette party, and attending dress fittings.  A real "look at me, not her" sort of thing.  Not cool.

Somewhere between month 4 and 5, I casually announced that we were expecting.  It was pretty well received, with the exception of one friend.  She had been having trouble with a second pregnancy, and unfortunately my good news was not something our friendship was able to tolerate.  Looking back, I understand that it was her pain that made her lash out at me; but that there was nothing I could have done to help ease her distress in my "condition."  She saw my unexpected pregnancy as a slap in her face.  She felt that I didn't deserve my baby because I hadn't suffered the same way she had.  It didn't matter that I understood WHY she said the things she said...no amount of understanding can make words like those hurt any less.  I was extremely sad to have lost her friendship, but not everything that is broken can be fixed.  That included the "close as sisters" relationship we had, which I still mourn from time to time.

If it's possible to have two of the "best moments ever," then Daire's arrival was exactly as much of a "best" as Jace's.  She was an even bigger bomb in our lives, however.  The thing about Baby #2, is that they don't just change the lives of you and your spouse....they turn Baby #1's life upside down too.  Poor Jace was so torn between being just as in love with Daire as we were, and also being insanely jealous.  Nothing stayed the same for any of us.  Our house, our schedules, our SLEEP, how we divided our attention...everything changed.  We had the whole "new baby" thing under our belt, but "new baby plus toddler" was nothing short of something I'm still waiting on a trophy for.

The first year of "baby plus toddler" was hard, the second year was bumpy, but now we're hitting smoother patches.  The girls are sharing a room (as opposed to us sharing OUR room...with either of them).  They can both talk now (not always a good thing).  They are both fully mobile (definitely not always a good thing) and decently independent.  The big one can even dress herself!  Woohoo!

Our endurance, tolerance, and patience have been tested daily throughout these baby years, but we do get more sleep than we did a year ago - and THAT is always lovely.  The fact that they are both girls makes for a lot of drama-handling and regular doses of theatrics; but I'm trying to study and gain knowledge daily on diffusing these intense meltdowns....otherwise I'm not sure how we'll all fare through their pubescent years. 

All we can do is march forward, like good parent-soldiers, and take comfort in the fact that we are facing these challenges together.  We'll need each other to lean on in the years to come, that's for sure; because with what I've seen of this parenting stuff so far - it is NOT for those of a weak spirit...or a weak stomach.

♥M

Another Crazy Love Story (Part II)

Part II: The Honeymoon Phase

We might not have had a storybook romance leading up to the wedding, but the honeymoon was perfect.  Sand, sun, drinks, bonfires, sunset cruises...it was perfect.  Well, mostly.

You have to consider that we'd been together for 3 years, and 2 of those years were long distance.  So while we loved each other intensely, we were also used to a certain amount of space... and living in separate towns.  Needless to say, eating, sleeping, and breathing the same air for a solid week became a challenge.  I think it was about Day 6 or so that I actually threw my ring at his head on the way back from the hot tub.  It was obviously something super important and worth throwing my ring over, since I don't even remember what it was.

Then we came home and had the excitement of our first house to keep us busy.  James had spent months gutting and renovating it, and while it wasn't quite complete (we brushed our teeth in the kitchen sink for a while), it was OURS.  Problem is, you can't take two larger-than-life personalities, mash them together in holy matrimony, dump them in an 800-square-foot house in a Mayberry town, and there NOT be fireworks.  Oh, the fireworks.

We are so different and yet so alike, that it's honestly just scary.  We're both loud and fun. (Fun? Or obnoxious....hmmm....guess that depends on YOU. haha)  We're both compassionate.  And at 21 and 22 years old, we were both selfish and stubborn.  (In other words...we were 21 and 22 years old.)  The first year was spent with our horns locked, debating pretty much everything from how to properly load a dishwasher, to what brand of laundry detergent we should use, to who got to pick the paint color for the spare bedroom (since we were OBVIOUSLY not going to agree on one).  Sidenote: no one ever even saw the spare bedroom because we kept it full of boxes until we turned it into a nursery...and repainted it.  Soooo glad we made a big deal out of the original paint color.

My favorite example of how ridiculous we were is called "The Home Depot Incident."  Yes, it has a title.  And yes, our friends know exactly what we're talking about when we cite it. 

Our new house needed a new front door.  No problem, let's go get one.  The problem - we almost got divorced right in the middle of Home Depot over which door to get.  I was determined to have Door A.  James was refusing to concede, and loading Door B onto a cart.  Not to be thwarted, I procured my own cart.

"Put Door A on this cart!"
"I will not.  We're getting Door B!"

I made a fool of myself trying to put the damn thing on the cart alone, then stomped off to find help.  I returned with a guy who put the door on the cart...while James pretended like he didn't know me.  I started towards the checkout line when James sealed his fate:

"You are NOT buying that door."

Ha!  We glared at each other from separate checkout lines.  We attracted some stares in the parking lot as we angrily shoved our respective carts out of the door....and to the same vehicle.  We stood at the back of the truck and finished duking it out until James went and returned one of the doors.  Here's the funniest part - we don't remember which door we got.  I cannot tell you, right now, who "won" and whether we got Door A or Door B.  Again, super important argument.

And yet, here we are.  We're still loud and fun (or obnoxious, whatever)...just at tea parties under the kitchen table now, not sorority socials or field parties.  We're still compassionate...probably more so with other people than with each other, though. (Oh, you had a long day?  So sorry...are you going to change that poop diaper while I'm cooking dinner?)  We should work on that.  That's the beauty of it though, we have a lot to work on but we're not scared to take it on anymore.  We had to quit trying to force everything onto the other one, and just grow up together.  That blog post, 10 Tips on How To Fight Fair?  Yeah, that's all from experience....with doing the WRONG things.  If you don't try - even if you mess up - then you don't learn. 

In my opinion, the honeymoon phase propaganda is a crock.  There's nothing magical about learning all of each other's annoying habits and having to share your stuff...every day.  But if you make it through to the other side, then...you've earned your anniversary, my friend. 

So here's to sleepovers with my best friend every night for the rest of my life!  (Even if he does have a really annoying habit of yanking the comforter off of me while he's sleeping.)

♥M