Politics and Boogers

This past year has been especially polarizing for our society. Everyone wants their voice heard and acknowledged. The women's march in Washington DC and across the country has social media all sorts of divided. Seems like you are either on the side of the marchers or you are on the "other side". I happened to read a divisive post on FB that made my blood pressure jump. The sum of the post, like many others I've read, was that the writer stood with the women marching. It went on to state that if you voted for Donald Trump that's on you and then listed some disturbing facts. This was not the first time I've seen this type of post both during the election or after. Here is my plea to women...ALL OF US....A post with your very strong words about where you stand puts others in a difficult position. Your comments about whether or not I voted and for whom or where I stand on world issues is online finger wagging or judging. Either we agree and we rah-rah over FB posts OR we don't. That leaves one of us feeling defensive, shameful and angry.  If you believe that your FB post has changed my heart or my mind you have missed the mark. A divisive social media post does not help me or your cause. I know many people are extremely fearful of what the next four years bring. I am too. Maybe Mr. Trump being elected is the catalyst that will cause seeming thousands of women to stick their heads out of their ostrich holes and look around. This world is a dark place.  I started educating myself about this march and surprisingly the message was a beautiful one:

GUIDING PRINCIPLES

Women’s rights are human rights, regardless of a woman’s race, ethnicity, religion, immigration status, sexual identity, gender expression, economic status, age or disability. We practice empathy with the intent to learn about the intersecting identities of each other. We will suspend our first judgment and do our best to lead without ego. We follow the principles of Kingian nonviolence, which are defined as follows:

• Principle 1: Nonviolence is a way of life for courageous people. It is a positive force confronting the forces of injustice and utilizes the righteous indignation and spiritual, emotional, and intellectual capabilities of people as the vital force for change and reconciliation.
• Principle 2: The Beloved Community is the framework for the future. The nonviolent concept is an overall effort to achieve a reconciled world by raising the level of relationships among people to a height where justice prevails and persons attain their full human potential.
• Principle 3: Attack forces of evil, not persons doing evil. The nonviolent approach helps one analyze the fundamental conditions, policies and practices of the conflict rather than reacting to one’s opponents or their personalities.
• Principle 4: Accept suffering without retaliation for the sake of the cause to achieve our goal. Self-chosen suffering is redemptive and helps the movement grow in a spiritual as well as a humanitarian dimension. The moral authority of voluntary suffering for a goal communicates the concern to one’s own friends and community as well as to the opponent.
• Principle 5: Avoid internal violence of the spirit as well as external physical violence. The nonviolent attitude permeates all aspects of the campaign. It provides a mirror type reflection of the reality of the condition to one’s opponent and the community at large. Specific activities must be designed to maintain a high level of spirit and morale during a nonviolent campaign

Somehow this message has gotten construed on social media. "We will suspend our first judgment and do our best to lead without ego". Huh. Interesting. Somehow the social media message seems to be if I don't agree with the "march", I must agree with Mr. Trumps pussy grab or perhaps I am a racist or I don't agree with gay or lesbian people marrying.  If I didn't take my coveted vacation days from work to march with a vagina hat then I must not be able to raise a strong daughter or that I will teach my son to treat women like animals. The above principles are very clear. BE A POSITIVE FORCE. 

We live in a society of intense and vulgar behavior....from all races, genders, and economic groups. We feel this heightened sense of how important our words are and that YOU SHOULD READ THEM, HEAR THEM AND BY ALL MEANS AGREE WITH THEM. IF NOT you can UNFRIEND ME. #BOOM ... drop the mic. I'm not sure that is what we are after here as a society. 

For all of you who posted about the march, I hope this has enabled you to find your passion for what you believe in. I don't mean the apparent hate for Mr. Trump. If the slogan "LOVE TRUMPS HATE" is true then shaming others, whether intentional or not, is hypocritical. Just because we can say anything we want, doesn't mean we should. What I mean about passion for your believe is that if you marched because you believe that sex trafficking is wrong (I think this is one we can all agree on) then please God join forces with a Church or group working for that cause. Use your time or your resources. Sending a post card to your senator is not what I am talking about. You want to change the world? You want to see change in the world? DO SOMETHING. Please do not march, post for days on FB about the march and links to the march, and do nothing afterward. For those of us either in the dark, undecided, in disagreement or simply uninterested....your actions will speak volumes. Post pictures of your project, your letter writing campaign or information about your cause. I will read it. I will see your vested passion. I will start to ask questions. Then we can come out from behind our computer screens, we can grab coffee and have a discussion. We can be stronger together....but only if we stop the finger wagging and the shaming. Women have enough hurdles in life. Please don't polarize us...I need someone to talk about why my kid eats boogers. Honestly, all of our kids do. Imagine that....all children eat boogers; African American, Caucasian, Asian, European, Arabic, etc......all children eat their boogers. Look, we are unified already no matter who you or I voted for.  

https://www.womensmarch.com/mission/

http://www.republicanviews.org/what-is-a-republican-republican-definition/

http://www.republicanviews.org/democratic-party-beliefs/

Dirty Feet and a Peaceful Heart

I'm getting ready to take a quick trip to see a cousin I have not seen in about 15 years. He was 6ish and I was 20ish the last time we saw each other. A lot has changed since then....he's now 20 and well, I guess that makes me 35.  While telling my aunt a story about my work tonight she mentioned that would be a great story to tell this young cousin of mine and his darling girlfriend. Twenty somethings, dreamy and starry eyed about their future. They will graduate from a top notch university and be kicked out into the world all too fast. I spent sometime tonight thinking about what I should tell them, what do they want to know, will they even care? am I "too old" to offer advice? 

I was quickly jolted out of my dreamy "what would I tell the 20 year old me" as I pulled into daycare number one and rushed into get the mini mister. Ten minutes before daycare number two closes so we had to hustle. Jake is thrilled to see me and runs to me smiling ready to go. His hands are blue and he has blue paint on his face...no doubt a sign of a well lived day at school. We scurry out...he wants to walk...we have to hurry....no time for his pace today. After we alligator wrestle into his car seat we fly to Ashley's school just in the nick of time before she the last kid standing at 6:00pm when school closes. We sing songs the whole way home to keep Jake from crying. ABC's, Twinkle, Twinkle, Jingle Bells, Frosty, etc.... It's dark out tonight; a product of day light savings. Makes me feel like we are getting home at 9pm. I am single-momming it again tonight. I've put in a full day at work. I manage an office of 12 women. My day consisted of meetings, a counseling session, end of month reporting, lots of laughs, and some tears. Yep. That's just the day time. Now it's just me and the mini's as my husband attends night classes to finish up an unfinished Bachelors Degree. I whip out a frozen bag meal and cringe...shake off the guilt as I look at the ticking clock. 6:15pm better hurry, they are hungry and tired. Change clothes, I think I went to the bathroom, "Jake get out of dog food bowls!" "Ashley! where are you??" Unpack a lunch box only to refill with a lunchable, fruit and milk...best I can do tonight. The phone dings - husband wants to face time on a break. As we scarf down our dinner care of birds eye frozen meals; the kids squeal as their Daddy appears. Quick; gotta run, it's time for bath. We keep moving like one swift freight train. For a few moments the kids play in the bath dumping water on their heads and giggling. Dry off, jammies on, a few books....Jake's headed to bed. *SIGH* Good night my little love. Ashley's time....We build our "thankful tree" tonight out of old shopping bags and tape it carefully to our bay window. Tonight she is thankful for her friend Emma. She carefully asks me what I am most thankful for "our whole family?" she inquires. I nod..."well then write that" she encourages in her wee little voice. We tape our first leaf up....OK kid, your turn. After a little tantrum she turns in and she is off to sleep. Ahhhhh, the house falls silent. 

All evening I think about my season of life. At every little turn tonight I smile and snicker. Smile because this is such a cool time in my life. I snicker because this is nothing like what I expected. I'm 15 years into my post - awesome - college life. I've been working a "real" job for 15 years. I'm on my third adult job. I've been married for 13 years, apartments, first home, second home, new car, used car, VAN! wait what???? when did that end up in my garage? Kids, flat shoes, grannie panties, old college pajama pants coming a part at the seams and crows feet.....that's my life today. All the things I said I would never do when I was an adult, when I was married, when I had kids, when I had my own house....OUT THE WINDOW. I read 1/2 of a book and am certain I will finish it later. I have shit stuffed in drawers I totttttally intend to clean out. My towels are all folded different ways. While cleaning the dished I could not figure out what stunk; the sponge. GROSS. Toss it back in the sink and move on. My feet are covered in God knows what from the floor....in addition to a cinderella sticker I somehow picked up. 

I never anticipated being where I am in my career. I never agreed or decided to manage people. In fact, if you asked me, I would tell you I don't like it. The truth is, I am secretly thankful for this job, this responsibility. It's a hard job, if you do it right. The tears, the tough conversations, the firings, corporate crap....but God gave me each person I manage. Every time I get a new one; I wonder if they are here for me or for them. Every time, a lesson is learned. 

I never really planned on being a mom. I had no idea what I was doing with my life. I got a job, then a better one, then a better one. In between I got married. Life was good, tough, tougher, good, BABY ONE, tough, good, BABY TWO, HOLY SHIT, good....and here we are. As I sit here with dirty feet, two sleeping babies, a dog that is probably peeing on my rug (I chose to write instead of take her out), I would simply tell them to enjoy this season of their lives. Don't rush. Don't worry.  These college days are not the best days of your life...they are simply a season of your life. Don't miss this getting to your adult life. Life is hard. The older I get the harder it seems to get for so many reasons. There are moments of great, moments of crap, and moments that just are. I rushed my whole life to grow up...now that I'm here, I desperately try to slow down the clock. The babies grow, birthday fly by, holidays come and go....I realize now how fast life really goes. My Grandpa told me when I graduated high school "your life will go so fast now"...I laughed thinking that's what old people say. He was so right. I have a feeling when I offer something to these two adorable 20 somethings I will say "your life will go so fast now..." they will laugh and think...That's what old people say....

Random Boxes and Miscellaneous Love

We got another box today. It's filled with random toys, snacks, comics he cut out, little miscellaneous notes and cards. These boxes arrive at holidays, birthdays or just whenever he gets a wild hair. He's my Dad. He's also an alcoholic. When I was growing up he was the type of alcoholic that hid vodka bottles in his car under the seat. He got drunk at at open opportunity. He was happy and nostalgic when he was drinking. The life of the party. When my parents got divorced; he really started drinking. Some years later he got let go from his job. Then lost the house, the cars, last but not least his sanity and dignity. For many years now I've lived in Florida. A safe distance from the chaos that he is. Safety for me is getting these random boxes and swallowing  the lump in my throat. I hand Ashley the latest toy and smile and say it's from Grandpa. What I don't say, what I can't tell her, is how my heart aches that he isn't a part of her life. If there was anything my Dad truly would have enjoyed it would be being a Grandpa. He has only met Ashley once for two hours. He has never met Jake. In fact, I didn't even tell him I had Jake for two weeks after I gave birth.  That's how it works now...He calls, I let it go to voicemail, listen to the message to determine how stable he is, then maybe call him back. He texts, if I can read it (meaning does it make sense), I will text back. We never see each other.

Growing up I was close with my Dad. We got along and more or less "got" each other. I look down as I type and I see my hands; his hands. I will always look at them and think of him. Today I simply am shocked he's still alive. I keep myself and my family away from him. I can't take the roller coaster ride that is alcoholism. I fought hard for many years, years of my life I should have been getting out into the world with my Dad's love and support. I fought to get him help. I tried to love him "well". The hardest lesson about alcoholic's or any addict for that matter is you cannot "love them well". At some junction in life I just shut my heart down. I stopped wondering where he was sleeping, what he was eating, IF he was eating.  I stopped feeling guilty about my house, my car or my soft bed....none of which he had. God whispered into my heart that I had to let go and let God; whatever that may be. Love him for what he is and what you get. It's as if I had to bury my Dad and give birth to what was left. The shell of a person who looks familiar but I have no connection. There are times like tonight however, in the still of the evening, when my heart breaks....again. I look over the dining room table at all the thoughtful stuff he sent and ask God again; why? Why is this my cross to bear? Why is this his journey? I cry. I let the tears fall and I pray. 1800 miles safely tucked away, I hide. So often I stuff away the sadness of him not knowing my kids; for him not being a part of my life. I am angry. I am angry for what I feel has been taken away from me, from my family. Everyday that goes by I think it's amazing he is still alive. Every year, every holiday....he is truly lucky. For the damage he has done to his body and mind; he should be dead. I will always wonder if I should have made more of an effort. I don't regret it now. The simple answer is make the effort, but it's complicated. And no. I will let God lead the way. I pray "if I need to go to him, if there is something I should do Lord...lay it on my heart. Till then I rest in the peace that you have brought us this far." I am hopeful somehow, by some miracle he will find peace here on earth. I will always wrestle with this. I understand he will always be my cross to bear. My heartache and heartbreak. I turn my eyes to my kids, my family and our future. Try not to focus on what I have lost but what their Dad and I will give to them. How lucky they are. How thankful I am they have a Dad that they don't ever have to "love well".

For tonight, I will tuck the cut out comic strips with little notes and cards away. Someday I will tell the kids my story. I want to show them the good things; the funny things about their Grandpa. I will recall the good memories with a smile; and pray.

Matters of the Heart

As I was getting ready for bed tonight the thought crossed my mind...what would I want my kids to know if I died. Sounds morbid right??..But honestly, we all have matters of our heart, dreams for them, hopes for their future...so I penned mine in their baby journals....Thought I would share some of mine:

1. I believe in God. Go to church. Learn about his word. He will get you through the roughest seas. He will make the impossible, possible. Have faith. 
2. Make good choices in friends. Don't hang out with kids/adults who make poor decision because you think you can help them make good ones. Odds are, you will make poor decisions with them before they make good ones with you.
3. Go to homecoming, snowball, prom, football games, etc... enjoy every season of your life. 
4. Don't worry about being popular or making the team. Just live your life. High school is a blip on the radar of life. You will learn so much but it's not everything. 
5. Go to college. Big or small I don't care, just go. Find something YOU like...not what your friends or boyfriend are into. 
6. Join an sorority/fraternity. You will make life long friends. They will be by your side even when years have passed and distance separates you. 
7. Live a little before you get married. Marriage is forever; make sure you know who you are before you decide who you want. 
8. Once you are married, TRAVEL. Enjoy being married before you have kids. 
9. Protect your marriage...Guardrails; read about them; put them in place.
10. If you choose to have kids, make sure you are ready. It's the most important job you will ever have. You don't want to screw it up.
11. Go to counseling. You need it. 
12. Put your cell phone/tablet/game system down.  Talk to your family and friends.
13. Look people in the eye.
14. Have a firm hand shake. 
15. Believe in yourself.
16. If you screw up, apologize. You will earn the respect of others by being humble.
17. Don't sleep around. Nobody likes a ho or player. Just sayin'. 
18. Don't dress trashy or with your underwear hanging out. Have more respect for yourself and those around you. Keep it classy.
19. Cherish and nurture your friendships. You will need them every season of your life. 
20. Enjoy your life. It goes by so fast. 

So many more but I picked out my fav's. When I think about parenting, I often think of all the time I have to teach them or tell them everything I need/want to. I pray I get the chance.

Think about it...what are some matters of YOUR heart you would want your kids to know? 

The Short Tight Rope

I hung up the phone and tears filled my eyes. It was 10:00am, I was at work, hair washed, a "good" outfit on and Ashley's school called. "Your daughter threw up and you need to come get her" they said. 
In a rush to get everyone out the door "on time" I had pushed her through breakfast. Even after her repeated attempts to tell me her tummy hurt and she wasn't hungry. Like a good soldier she forced down four strawberries, half a breakfast bar and milk. I told her no "special treat" after dinner; if you don't eat a good breakfast you can't have treats. She just nodded and asked "are you happy Mommy?" "Yes" I said sternly with teeth clenched, Jake hanging off my hip. " I just want you to eat...I don't want you to get hungry and grumpy later" I replied as sweetly as I could. I dropped her off, warned the teacher she "wasn't quite herself" and I was off. I dropped Jake at his school and then my turn to get to work. I fly like a bat out of hell and roll in 30 min late...as usual. Humf. 
When I got the call, I could feel the tension rising. My husband is out of town again, it's end of month at work, I don't have time for any hiccups. That's when the tears came. My co-worker and friend came in and I just looked up, tears streaming. "I can't do this" I whispered.  My mind was racing. I don't give work 100%, I don't give my kids 100% frankly my marriage, myself, family, friends...HA! they get almost nothing. Mom guilt is a terrible thing...If I wasn't racing 100 miles an hour every second of everyday, I wouldn't have missed her being sick. I would have known last night when she didn't eat dinner, something was up. When she asked me to lay with her at bed time; why didn't I? She seemed fine and honestly, I was spent. Just like every other day and night. I often feel like a rubber band about to snap. That if one more single thing happens I will surly break. My co-worker had some heavy, kind words. "Family first. You do give us (work) enough; more than enough..." Still, if I'm being honest, it's not enough. As a working mom, I will never be able to give either my children or my job what they REALLY need. Great. Then what? I guess Taylor Swift might be onto something....I guess we "Shake it off". Go at it again another day. Walk the tight rope. Dance the very intricate dance; all while hoping and praying we're not screwing up. 
I dried my eyes, packed my lap top up and headed out. The little one was laying on a mat in the directors office with a bucket next to her. "I suck" I thought.  Kids are filled with grace. She doesn't quite know how awful I feel. She just knows I'm here now. She is asleep on the couch for the second time today. We've had a good day. Watched one too many Mickey's for my taste...but it's not about me. If the "hot dog dance" makes her smile today...then me too. I can only pray I'm hitting 100% some of the time. The important times. Pray. 

2015 A New Begining

The light of the full moon is pouring in our family room window. I'm feeding little Jakey and my mind wanders...I read a blog tonight about a girl, presumably my age with two kids similar in age to mine. She was diagnosed with cancer at the end of December.  I tried to imagine the range of emotions. The terror, the anger and the sadness. I stare down at Jake and listen to his little baby noises. What a blessing he is to our family. I wonder how he would ever know how tenderly I hold him or rub his little feet. Who would ever tell him how absolutely precious these late night feedings are? While everyone else is tucked in bed and the craziness of the day is over...it's just us. If I had cancer. If that girl was me. What if I didn't make it through? Maybe I'm exhausted or maybe it's my hormones...but maybe this is one of those moments of clarity of pure emotion; heart spilling with love that I am often too busy to really feel. 
What a difference a year makes. January 2014 I was sick with hyperemesis and pregnant. Feeling at my absolute worst. EVER. Just cringing at the idea that I had 7 more months to go.  2014 was a year filled with emotion and struggle. My pregnancy was hard. A new baby and a toddler was/is hard. Going back to work with two kids in two different day cares was/is hard. Out of all that we got precious little Jake who is, as I call him "the best baby ever". His personality is chill and easy. He sleeps great. He eats like a horse. He just rolls with whatever we do.  Ashley has matured leaps and bounds. This was the year of a "big girl bed", her first stay at a ho-in-tel (Hotel), new class room, new teacher and a new life with a baby brother. These are the years some mom's have dubbed "the trenches"...and they are right. My husband and I are stretched thin. This was also a year of some new found friendships in these "trenches" and the comfort of old friends in the same situation. The raw honesty of a friend can dry tears and heal hearts. 
As I tuck Jakey in, my heart swells. What a year...what a crazy, glorious, struggle of a year. But here we are on the cusp of a new beginning...we will all turn another year older, the kids will change so much, we will ebb and flow as parents and husband and wife. I pray for a renewed sense of strength. A healthier way of living...aka shedding some pounds. I hope for growth. I want for joy, fun and laughter to fill our walls. 
I can't think about the what if's in life. The blog said it perfectly...this girl was just going along in life, trying losing weight, raising her kids, doing what all of us do. I guess that is the only way. Faith. Trust in God.  I hope I am living this life the best I can and if not, that I make the choice to do something about it. Here's to 2015 and all the hope, joy, faith and health we could wish for. Cheers!

It's that time again

It wasn't until I had a few quiet seconds alone in my bathroom that the tears came. I've been tearing up on and off for a couple of days but this was the "real" cry. It's time for me to go back to work tomorrow. I can't even believe it. There have been good days and bad days. Great moments and moments I've struggled like never before. Two kids is no joke. There have been so many changes, "new normals" and new  responsibilities.  At times I found myself longing for the familiarity of work and the schedule my life had. Now, I want to turn back the clock. I want to go back and have one more day, one more week alone with this precious boy. Jake is sleeping now making his adorable little baby noises. It's amazing how much I will miss ... lost thought, had to take an Ashley break because she needs an additional blanket and still not asleep. Decided to cry her heart out for this beloved blanket that is at the bottom of a drawer that I am certain she has never used ... and this is my life. *sigh* 
For as many times I have said "yep, I'm ready to go back to work" the pit in my stomach says I'll never, ever be "ready". I know I will get used to this new schedule. I know he will adjust.  I have been running around getting my purse packed, moving all my stuff from the diaper bag to the purse I have not touched since going to the hospital. I've got my snacks and lunch packed. I spent time agonizing over what outfit to wear. Feels like the first day of school; butterflies and all. 
I know I've done this before but I am certain it never gets easier. I won't know exactly what he does all day. I won't be the one to scoop him up after his nap feeling his sweaty little baby head. I won't however miss the poop. I will never miss the poop... or for that matter not moving fast enough for this little man and getting pee'ed on. Yeeeeeah...little boys. 
It will be surreal tomorrow as I sit at my desk...my mind rusty; but clear. I will miss my little boy; this precious little mini mister that God has blessed us with. As always time marches on; no regard for a mama's longing for it to slow down. Wish me luck tomorrow...wish us both luck tomorrow this is just the beginning of new things for him. 

To my sweet second child

To my sweet second born,
Life is different for you. You are not our "first" for many things when it comes to parenting. Your Dad and I left the hospital a day earlier than we did with your sister. We were confident and certain this time. I haven't cried during this maternity leave with the worry about day care. The first day of drop is inevitable and I guess I'll be ready. My heart will ache but I feel you and I are tougher already. You take naps with the TV blaring Mickey Mouse club and your sister screaming about something. You get rushed through your bath so I can get your sister to bed. Your feedings are hurried because something else needs to be tended to. You've been taken to Target, Publix, church and held by anyone who wants to hold you and you are only 8 weeks old. There won't be 1,000,362 pictures of just you. My sweet little second....you spend more time in the bouncy seat and the baby swing than you sister ever did. Even my time with you on maternity leave is shorter.
You and I didn't have the best start. My pregnancy was difficult. I spent two spells in the hospital due to dehydration and sickness. I took a leave of absence from work. I cried on the cold bathroom floor praying to God to make the sickness stop. I quietly cried in bed because I couldn't help with the house, dinner or spend time with your sister. When you were born it was quick and uneventful. Thank God. I sent your Dad home to be there for your sister when she woke up. You and I slept alone in the hospital.
Every thing is faster in your life. As you sit there wide eyed in your bouncy seat I am in awe of you. You take it all in stride. That's all you know I guess. You watch Ashley and smile...my heart melts. You stare up at me with all the confidence in the world...and my heart aches a little for you. You sweet, patient baby. This is your station in life, your birth order.
This quiet Sunday morning as your Dad and Ashley are off at Church...you sleep quietly in your swing content until your next feeding. I've put you on a schedule now to get you sleeping through the night. A sign the time is coming that we will be apart during our days. I've been more ambitious while we've been together; cleaning out cabinets, closets, and my head. Trying to find myself, my new self. The past months have been mentally grueling for me. I like to do everything, stay organized, be social and have been forced to put all my "self imposed musts" aside and sleep or rest or throw up. I'm not just a working wife any more, I'm not just a working mother of one who seemingly has everything balanced....I am a mom of two. Wow...that just sounds like a lot.
My little partner and my last born. You are the finale to pregnancy in my life. You will always be my baby. Ashley will rein as the only daughter and first born. But you, you complete us. As your sister has taught us so much...there is so much more to learn. I see that now.
During these last days we have together in sweatpants taking naps....I will hold you and be so thankful for everything at you are; everything you will be. Welcome to the Irwin circle; it won't always be easy but know that every step we will take will be together.
I love you sweet boy,
Your tearful Mommy

PS...for what it's worth, I am the oldest...big sisters can be a real pain. All I can say about that is good luck. You guys are stuck with each other....but I hope that's a gift your Dad and I have given to you both.

A whole lot'a shaking going on!

So, some of you that read this have been down this road before. Some of you might be considering taking the plunge. What I am referring to is a second child. We really thought we had it all figured out. We had a great first kid and thought one good turn deserves another...and so we opted to try again to get pregnant. It all worked out and after a very difficult pregnancy, our little Jake was born. NO ONE could have prepared us for this transition. I had heard it was hard but surely that was just "them". We could do it different and it wouldn't be so hard. HA. HA. HA. Although not so funny. This has been harder on so many levels...mostly humbling. Very humbling.
For starters....toddlers waiting at home for the new baby are like ticking time bombs. God should have placed a warning label on their foreheads when your bring your tiny bundle home. Our daughter, the apple of our eye, our world, our precious little pea....turned into a gremlin. No joke. A tantrum throwing, whiney, needy gremlin. Her little world was turned upside down and our parenting skills were getting a good thorough kick in the nuts. Everything we thought was right was suddenly not working and wrong. Awesome.
Secondly...sleep. I need it. Even a little bit of it. At night, when the baby cries, the toddler cries. Just when I think I will snuggle in for a little nap or a stretch of sleep...someone wakes up. WHY? WHY GOD WHY? I dream of renting a hotel room and just sleeping. My word has the bar been lowered for "dreams"!
Third...time. I have none. I mean for me that is. With one child there is a finish line. Nap time or bed time you know that time is now yours. Not any more. The other night, the baby was asleep, the toddler was off to bed...she inquired what I would be doing once she went to bed (like it's something exciting) I told her I would be showering and going to bed (lie). I stole away to my bathroom, shut the door with my phone and a piece of dark chocolate and played words with friends...GLORIOUS.
Finding a new normal:
A trip to the mall today quickly reminded me how out of mainstream I have become. After 9 months of maternity wear (which I will be burning very soon - buh bye!!!!!) and current sweatpants and t-shirt wardrobe...I have NO idea what is "in" right now. Let me just say I was very out of touch while underwear shopping today...it's been a while...and it was humbling. I am clearly getting old. Is it too much to ask for just cotton?! Enough about that... my point is, I am a new person. We are a new family and this is our new normal. The little gremlin is getting better. She's learning to share Mommy and taking turns. My husband and I are a stronger team. This is survival man and a good team mate and partner is crucial. This is a season of my life I will never forget and possibly long for when the kids are grown...ok maybe not this particular stage but you know what I mean.
It's quite hilarious how much I thought I knew vs. reality. My body is different. My mind is different (well, mostly gone). My heart is different. In the quiet moments of the late nights while I watch my precious baby, I'm amazed. With all the chaos, the pregnancy sickness, the tantrums, he is perfect. I glance around at the baby swing, the stuffed animals left after a session of "school", burp cloths and crayons and realize these moments are precious and perfect. Our little family of three has become a complete family of four and that couldn't be more precious and perfect.

My Letter Writing Campaign

I recently visited a friend whom I had not seen in a long time. With a little one and pregnant, I don't travel as much as I used to. The trip felt hurried and overly busy with all my commitments. Both the mini and I were sick and inevitably we were kind enough to share with our hosts. When it was time to leave, we were rushed by time, exhaustion and kid logistics. I spent some time on the plane thinking about all the things I didn't tell her. As mom's, we are all hurried, in "survival" mode and usually feeling a mix between exhaustion/frustration/confusion but mostly in desperate need of kind words from the heart. We would love to say our husbands fill that void all the time but the reality is when these types of words and feelings come from our girlfriends...fellow mom warriors...they can fill our souls to fight another day. 
When I got back I dutifully got my box of notecards out to pen a thank you card to my lovely hosts. I noted how great it was to see her and her family, we had a good time, etc...I also noted that I wished we had a chance at some quiet time together. Maybe then my mind would have cleared to give her the compliments I thought only in my head. This is the season of our lives. Young kids, hurried schedules, and overbooked days. Only then did it occur to me to send out a couple other quick notes. For me, there is nothing cooler than opening the mail box and finding something for me from someone I love. The general goods in the box are magazines, credit card ads and bills...bummer. However, when I run across a card, thank you note or an invite my little heart does a dance. So the same day I sent my thank you note, I sent two other cards out. I filled them with thank you's, I love you's and miss you's. It felt nice. 
In the evenings I scroll through FaceBook or Instagram and I feel "connected". Sadly, by "liking" someones status I check the box..."Oh look, I saw your cool event and was happy for you".  Ok yeah, that is NOT connecting. I wonder why at times I am left feeling empty, left out or jealous. Well it's because, I haven't actually talked to 95% of those people on the phone, met for coffee or saw in person, potentially, in years. Those social media sights leave room for judgement, the media savvy of a politician to position your life to look picture perfect and sadly the junior high feeling of "why wasn't I invited to that?!" Don't get me wrong, they do indeed keep us "connected". I wanted more. So, I've committed to a letter writing campaign. Sending out quick notes to people IN THE MAIL. Not a Face Book message or comment on a picture. 
I have cards from friends and family that go back YEARS. My aunt gave me a card probably 15 years ago; after that we were estranged for many years, but I held onto that card. Every once and a while I would run across it while cleaning and read it. It made me smile every time despite the circumstance. The written word holds weight. It can hold hope, love, or memories. 
I encourage you to try this campaign....hey, maybe we can save the USPS! I bet if you sat down you could think of someone who could use a little love in the mail today. A little surprise to make their heart dance. Maybe they will save it for years. Maybe it will be the kind words that make their day. In the end, it really makes YOUR heart do a little dance because you know in a few days they will open their mail box expecting the same old stuff and see a handwritten note from you. Yea! 

Pregnancy...round two...

We knew we wanted a second baby. After my first pregnancy I knew I was not the baby carrying kind. I was, what I considered "super" sick the first go round. I anticipated being sick again but nothing could prepare me for super storm mini that was about to ensue. It started on time at the 6 week mark. Like clock work the throwing up and nausea started. I could not keep anything down. I ended up going to the ER because I was sure I had the flu; this could not all be pregnancy related. They checked for many things...including multiples. I asked "multiple what?" was the doctor serious?!....ultimately there was only one baby taking up residence in my belly. Two days later I was readmitted to the hospital under my OB's care. That when I started hearing the term Hyperemisis. In layman's terms, you throw up a lot. And that I was. I felt like I'd been hit with a mack truck and then backed over with the same truck. Never, never would or could have imagined I would feel so awful. My sweet little mini would stand by my side while I hugged the toilet with her hand on my shoulder sucking her thumb. I would beg her between hurls to go play. But she just stayed on. Then tell me "mama gross". Yes, my sweet child, it is gross.
Fast forward to today, week 16. I've made great progress. I can eat and drink some. Weird craving of the day...Grapefruit juice. I stopped at two places this morning to get my hands on this liquid gold. Who knows what tomorrow brings. My belly is growing much faster than #1. That has left its own marks of cynicism; my maternity clothes didn't really start until later so I'm desperately digging around my closet for the "largest" fat clothes I have to accommodate my ever growing belly.
What am I getting at here? pregnancy is not fun. I know for some women it's a ball of sunshine and happiness. For me, it's 10 months of throwing up, nausea, clothes that don't fit right, too many bathroom breaks to count, narcoleptic exhaustion and no glass of wine to take the edge off. I have felt lonely and miserable. Laying on the cold bathroom floor praying to God to make it stop. Alone in a hospital room looking at the IV (and the two other bandaids where the veins collapsed) and cried. Felt the sting of guilt when Daddy takes the mini to do something "so cool" and I can't go. My friends call; I don't want to talk. I am invited but don't want to go. Some understand. Mostly, it's just me putting the guilt and frustration on myself. A lesson I'm learning.
But....it's worth it. In the small moments I am finding the greatest strength. When the mini and I talk about "the baby" and she looks up at me with her big blue eyes and boundless red hair and yells "mama's silly!" The quiet moments when I tuck her into bed and we sing...or she yells the song "Jesus loves me" and I laugh. She quietly says "love you" as I walk out her door. My sweet, smart, sassy little girl. You are the reason I do this again. You are the reason your Daddy holds me when I sob because I can't do the dishes or wash the floors. He quietly tells me "I can't carry a baby but I can do these things". You are the reason we are fighting through this. We laugh when you are naughty and say "and we wanted two?!" Both knowing we would want 100 of you.

Yellow Shirt Day

Today was yellow shirt day at the mini's school. She wore a pink shirt today. I somehow missed that today the kids were supposed to wear yellow. Moments like these make me feel like having a mini melt down. My kid is two...I don't think she really knows or cares she is wearing pink and all the other kids are in yellow but I know and I care. Why? because I missed something for my kid. I failed.

My aunt who I have not seen in 10+ years recently came for a visit. This is a LONG dramatic story that I will not go into...but to say that her coming back into my life is a miracle is putting it lightly. As families go, mine had a melt down..not a mini...but a Chernobyl type melt down years ago. The hope of finding anybody alive in the wreckage was slim and those you might find were badly disfigured. Yes I know...dramatic...but true. Fast forward to today and somehow by the grace of God we are all different people in different places in our lives. Her coming to visit was very anxiety filled. To do list: house must be cleaned to perfection, all to do projects done, fridge stocked, everyone in matching cardigans and big, beautiful smiles on our faces damn it! because we are a nice, normal freaking family! As I paced the airport waiting area I'm thinking...I look tired, my jeans are too long, why didn't I lose 10 lbs?...UGH. As soon as she got off the plane my anxiety faded. It was just like old times. My mom was here while she visited as well and the two of them took care of us like you wouldn't believe. Made frozen dinners for our crazy weeknight meals, fresh baked cookie bars, laundry done, house clean, etc....They were amazing.

I had prayed for years for this moment. I had ached for my family to come back together.  Maybe healing comes in cookies. Maybe healing comes in watching my aunt hold my baby girl. Maybe healing comes in little moments. I have carried this heavy cloak of hurt, bitterness and anger for all these years. It has become part of who I am. I am anxious now to let it go. God has given us mercy; let me not waste it being angry.

Many days I operate on the verge of a mini melt down. My past, my daily stress, my anxiety all push me to the edge. When I miss yellow shirt day at daycare I feel like I've failed. God works in mysterious ways they say. I disagree...his ways are not mysterious. They are perfect. They meet us where we are; when we are ready. I am ready to close that chapter of my life. I am open to healing. That way when I miss show and tell or red shirt day I won't feel like I failed but just accept that I am a busy mom/wife/employee/daughter/niece AND THAT'S OKAY.

I'll leave you with this...Laura Story's song lyrics to "Blessings"
We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
And all the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your word is not enough
And all the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not,
This is not our home
It's not our home

'Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near

What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise

Transitions

In 6 days Ashley will turn two. She really doesn't know it. I think she just knows there is a lot of hustle and bustle around the house to get ready for her party. I'm frantic trying to get last minute details ready, last minute Etsy orders in, goody bags made and food ordered. My back aches as I rewrap water bottles with duct tape to match the theme of her party and painstakingly make each thank you note I will write afterwards. I'm in a panic because I will be out of town for three days before her party. My life is busy. The constant struggle and balance of work, family, fitting in dates with my husband, dates with my friends, play dates, grocery store trips...seriously, who needs sleep!? Sometimes I find myself thinking about how chaotic my life is. How "someday" things will slow down; secretly wishing for quiet. 

My mom is visiting her sister and her family this week. This is monumental as we all have not seen each other in several years. Ash and I have been skype'ing with them. To see their faces; hear their voices brings back a flood of good memories. The kind that warm your soul and make you smile. My aunt's son, my sweet little cousin, leaves for college in two weeks. I think about the kind of quiet his absence will bring to their house and lives. How over the last 18 years he has filled a spot in their home and hearts. I think of how chaotic life has been for them these last 18 years. How as a woman she has balanced being a stay at home mom, a working mom, two kids, family, a household and last but not least herself. 

I chatted away with my aunt about Ashley's party, showed them the goody bags and rambled about all my plans. In the quiet, still of the night; I cried. I thought about her heart. How it must be breaking to send her baby; her first born off to college. I thought about my own Mom. How her heart must have broken as I left for college and then moved 1800 miles away. I remember saying "Oh Mom, its just a plane ride away". 

You really don't know squat until you are a parent. How it feels to cut grapes in half, be puked on, 1st days of school, bullies, drama, proms, college, weddings....and saying good bye as they fly out of the nest you have so carefully built for them. Painstakingly sacrificed for them. Wore your heart on your sleeve for them. They go. I wondered if she wished for her baby to be two again and plan his birthday party. I wonder if she will tell me someday how "fast" it all goes by. I closed my eyes in the quiet of the night; the peace knowing Ashley is right down the hall, and I cried. 

Time really does go by so fast. Too fast. Life is busy and chaotic. For now, I'm going to enjoy the noise and the busy, because I know all too soon I will have quiet. I will long for these days of being a young mom back. I will wish for these precious moments when my beautiful little girl tells me "Oh Mom, it's only a plane ride away". 

Home Sick...or Home Sick

Home sick can mean one of two things. One, you are actually at your house sick or two, you are missing your "home". In any event, I have been both in the last two weeks. 

The mini and I took at trip back to my home town of Trenton, Michigan. It was truly exhausting. It was a soul filling seven days that I so desperately needed. We saw family and friends, did all kinds of cool adventures but the best part was I got to spend one solid week with my daughter. I work full time and so my time with Ashley is limited. Any extra time with her is such a blessing. It's been hard to "break-up" with her since being home but we've managed. 

I've been home for a week and Sunday I knew I was getting sick. Monday I woke up and felt like a mack truck had run over me in my bed while I simultaneously swallowed barbed wire. AWFUL. I got the mini up and to day care, on this day a huge blessing, and headed to the doc. Only to joyously find out I had strep throat...what adult gets strep throat!? I only remember having this as a kid. Ugh! I got my antibiotics and headed home. As I drifted off to sleep I was thinking about dropping my kiddo off at daycare that morning; I actually shed tears because she wouldn't get in her car seat. I felt so awful that I cried like a baby and begged her to please just do as I asked. That night, I laid on the couch half asleep. I didn't give her a bath, read to her or tuck her in. Luckily, her Daddy took over these duties. This experience made me think of all the healthy days I have that I take for granted. For just a minute, I thought about what it would be like to be a parent with cancer or Parkinson's or MS. To have to sit on the side lines and watch your child. To not feel up to or being able to participate in their day to day lives. There would be no trips to Michigan under those circumstances, no Busch Gardens, no swimming in the pool, none of that would happen. I don't get sick too often, but this time, it made me think....Take advantage of being healthy. Take advantage of all the things you are lucky enough to do everyday. Try not to judge yourself so harshly for working full time or folding laundry as Ashley reads a book. I always thought "old people" like my Grandparents said things like "your lucky to have your health". Honestly, they're right. 

Thank your lucky stars today if you are healthy. Pray for those who aren't. Take advantage of every opportunity and take care of yourself. You owe it to yourself and those amazing kids you're raising!

I Read a Book!!!!

For some of you this may not be a huge feat but for me...amazing. I don't choose to make time to sit and read. I work outside the home, I work when I get home and quite frankly, when the mini goes to bed...I zone out. I get my I-pad out and hide out in the internet...words with friends, zulily, Pinterest, etc...until my eye lids tell me it's time for bed. I do it all again the next day. I have a pile of about 10 books sitting next to my bed; these are the "must read soon" books. That does not count the bookshelf in the office filled with books I "must have" that I have yet to read. What can I say, I'm "ambitious" haha.
When getting ready for vacation I forced myself to chose "only" four books that I could plough through poolside. I was so excited to knock some of these off my list. One book I picked up was "Unglued" by Lysa TerKeurst. The front cover says "making wise choices in the midst of raw emotions". Huh, that might do me some good.
My state of mind prior to vacation I would describe as tired, frustrated, angry, and over everything and everybody. Clearly, I was in desperate need of a vacation. Work had been very stressful. I was run down with the monotony of my everyday routine. I was sick of diapers, tantrums and teeth brushing that resulted in me looking like a drowned rat after wrestle mania with my two year old. I was over the questions about what money I had spent where, feeling under appreciated and unattractive. Clearly, I was in desperate need of a vacation.
Vacation did not turn out like I had envisioned. Once my husband and I were stripped of our jobs, routine, kid and home; there was no place to hide. Face to face for the first time in what felt like eternity, we fell apart. Some dirt long buried, some hurts left unattended, some needs left unmet rose to the surface. The glass half full approach tells me to look at this like a much needed alert for us to tend to these things. The pouty two year old inside me said "this sucks". Clearly, WE needed a vacation.
All the while I was reading this book, Unglued. That is precisely where my mind and heart stood. Making decisions daily in the midst of raw emotions. Lysa takes a grace filled approach to caring for our heart and soul while dealing with the daily assault we all take. Wether it be co-workers, family, kids, spouse, or the girl at the check out line, we all take some crap. Daily.
One of the most revealing chapters is "What kind of Unglued Am I?" The way Lysa explains it is "Emotions don't sit still. They are active - and they travel. I need to know where mine are taking me so I could understand why I sometimes came unglued." She created four categories that we can fall into:

1. The Exploder who Shames Herself
2. The Exploder who Blames Others
3. The Stuffer who Builds Barriers
4. The Stuffer who Collects Retaliation Rocks

Thankfully, Lysa explained she is all of the above...Bless her heart, that's how I felt when reading each category. She pushes her readers to start making "imperfect progress". For me, I try to be perfect all the time. Since we all know that is impossible, I often feel like a failure. I relished the idea of imperfect progress. One of the most important pieces in the solution is finding the quiet. For several reasons:

1. In the quiet, we feel safe enough to humble ourselves
2. God lifts us up to a more rational place
3. Anxiety gives way to progress
4. We acknowledge that our real enemy is not the other person
5. I can rest assured God will use this conflict for good - no matter how it turns out

Mission understood, before I freak out find a quiet space...bathroom stall acceptable....where ever! Collect my thoughts as to not blow up or stuff. 

Truly the explanation above is merely scratching the surface of what this book contains. I have highlighted and flagged the crap out of this book. Let's be very honest with ourselves, we all need work. Sometimes it's dig in deep and see where it takes us. Other times it's a tweak here and there. Regardless, of where you are at in life, I would say this book can speak to your heart. It will give you peace you are not alone or crazy. It will give you tools to manage your life. 

This is the only book I read on vacation. The only one I needed to. Mission understood God. Thank you for finding me in my mess. Thank you for guiding me to the tools necessary. Thank you for whatever lies ahead. I have a feeling it's imperfect progress. 

Link for the book below:

http://www.amazon.com/Unglued-Making-Choices-Midst-Emotions/dp/0310332796/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1370110947&sr=8-1&keywords=unglued

Cards

I bought some cards today to send to my dearest BFF's from high school. I thought on the way home, I would include a picture from our past; that will be fun! Tonight as I undid the child safety lock a wave of memories washed over me. It was like unlocking a time capsule. I have not looked at those pictures in ages. Time just keeps moving and so do our busy lives. I had a date with my husband and hot tub that I didn't want to miss so I promised myself I would just look for the two pictures I needed and wrap it up. I'm not one to move swiftly like this...opening up the memory bank sometime lasts HOURS. I did not remember which albums were from when so I just picked some up and flipped through. Tears sprang to my eyes. The memories are vivid. So incredibly precious. Proms, Homecomings, Senior Year at Trenton High School, trips up-north, and so many more. Our eyes so filled with promise and hope. We've been out of high school for 15 year now although feels like only yesterday. We have husbands, mortgages, jobs...real jobs, kids, and responsibility. Not sure we are all where we'd hoped, but we are here none the less. We are spread from the west coast to the east coast. Hours and plane rides away. Life gets heavy these days. I remember so clearly wanting to move the hands of time for the "next" thing...college, marriage, kids, a "real" job with my own "real" money....I would give anything to go back for ONE day and realize the freedom and promise of those days. My Grandpa told me when I graduated high school "time moves so fast now" I had NOOOO idea what he was talking about until now. 
As I sit here I am a wife, mother, manager, so many things to so many people. I cannot believe I will be 33 this year and I have an almost 2 year old asleep in the other room. I cannot believe I had to fire someone last Friday or that I sat and talked with the president of my company over wine two weeks ago. I have adult decisions to make and adult responsibilities. But the memories of days gone by are as fresh in my mind as the warm summer breeze that whips through my car on the way home from work. I have daily disappointments. I worry more than I should...I have no earthly idea what I "worried" about back then. To be honest, in 15 years I won't remember what I worried about today.
These girls both carry their own adult burdens. When we talk we roll over our life's current story; sometimes we are in hysterics about our husbands shenanigans or babies barfing at the worst times then sometimes we are in tears over lost loved ones, bad days at work or the guilt that plagues us. We talk about our moms and siblings; catch up on our jobs and co-workers. We are all walking the same tightrope. But no matter what, we have each other. We have the memories locked safely in our minds. We have the tightly woven bond of time. Time lived. Time spent together. I love you girls. Thanks for the memories....and the ones yet to come.

Slowing it down, Progressive Insurance style

My husband thought it would be a great idea to install Progressive Insurance "trackers" in our cars. He had high hopes of getting cheaper car insurance once the reports came back and Progressive saw what stellar drivers we were. I told him before he even ordered them it was a bad idea.  I'm not a horrible driver, never been in an accident, maybe a speeding ticket, but nothing serious. Buuuut, I know I have a lead foot and do too much while driving. I knew the report would not lie and he and Progressive would see the truth about my driving skills. In the first week I got 23+ hard stops...Please note the tracker beeps every time you make a hard stop...so I am fully aware how many times a day it goes off. My husband...zero. This went on for several weeks. Finally one Sunday morning we were discussing this tracker and I kept telling him "it's a bad idea, our insurance is going to go up!" his response "why don't you just drive better?" Ummmmmmm....what?! I nearly spit my coffee out. I howled with laughter. It sounded so simple but I had been fighting the dang tracker since before it arrived. I never even thought about changing my driving habits. I just thought about how I was going to get "caught" driving badly. I had just accepted it.
That following Monday as I got in the car, I thought, let me just "try" to drive better. Let's see what happens. I put my phone away. In my purse. Out of reach. I gave the mini everything she could possibly need on our way to school and off we went. The result, no beeps. Well, well! I thought. He might be onto something. As the week went by almost no beeps. I begged my husband; look at my report card! It's so much better! I was amazed at what a defensive and poor driver I was! I had my phone in hand most of the time, drinking coffee, changing the radio, talking on the phone, etc... I stopped. I slowed down. I stopped tailgating other drivers. I stopped being that jerk that could cause a serious accident. I never thought of myself that way.
My driving time is much nicer. I still get there in the same amount of time. I am calmer. I started to wonder where else in my life I was defensive...aggressive...overstimulated...over extended?
JUST. ABOUT. EVERYWHERE. 
Constantly, I criticize my self for not doing the things I "put my mind to". I bought a book that was recommended called "Love is a Choice" (EXCELLENT book, so far...) 1/4 of the way in, it referenced  a couple other books to read, I bought all of them. A friend recommended a parenting book, I bought it. I am only 1/2 though the first book and have amassed a pile of books staring at me. Reminding me I don't have time haven't made time to read them. But I had to have them.
My body. I went to my annual physical; all my counts, levels, tests were excellent. Well under where they should be. My weight, 10lbs over where I need to be. If we are honest, 20 lbs over where I should be. I went to Checkers for lunch that day. I don't have haven't made the time to eat well. But I had to stop there. Had to eat the junk I was just told not to.
Parenting. I am not consistent. I brag about what a great routine the mini is on. I started reading another book I bought and sure enough, when I really took a look at our routine....not exactly as "great" as I thought it was.  Could account for the awesome tantrums the mini has been throwing and some of her defiance. Tonight, tried a new way, and I think it just might work. Success.
As I sit here writing this to all the women and mom's out there feeling defensive, aggressive, overstimulated and over extended; relish the little victories. Tonight, I am a better driver. Tonight, I think I am on to something for a new routine. I did not have to wrestle my alligator of a child into bed. Success. In between the mundane routine...work, daycare, dinner, clean up, shower, exhale, bed, do it all again days...find moments of enlightenment and success. My successes no longer comes in the form of a degree, new job, new boyfriend, a marriage proposal, new city, new house, or a promotion...they come when I decide to drive better. They come when I get a massage or a pedicure. They come when I step out with my girlfriends for a night out. They come when I read a book I've put off. That is my life right now.
Thank you husband of mine for being cheap and trying this Progressive tracker to save a buck. You just might have saved my sanity...for now :)
Glass of wine in hand....I'm off to finish my parenting book. Success!

The Wild, Wild West of Daycare

Any parent who sends their kid to daycare realizes there are potential risks. Biting is unfortunatley one of them. I'm putting this story out there because I am certain it will ring true to several of you....To bring you up to speed, the mini has been in the 1 year old room since August so call it 6 months. Since being there we have not been overly thrilled with the daycare for various reasons. She has gotten bit twice for starters. Once on her arm; more a wide mouth bite that did not break the skin and the 2nd on the tip of her finger and to be fair had DC not told us it was there; we would never have noticed. Now, to be realistic, I realize bites are par for the course for this age group. I think the fundamental problem is the state's ratio is 1 teacher for 6 kids. Are you freaking kidding me?! who ever made this ratio must never have had children. There is NO way that 6 1year old kids can be adequately supervised by 1 poor adult. BUT, that is the state's rules and that is what DC's follow. So last week I got a call on Wednesday that Ashley got bit...again. I was upset but based on the last two bites I didn't get super worked up. HOWEVER, when I got there and realized the severity of the bite (looks like a dog bite that broke the skin) I was not very happy. Not to mention the bite happened at 11am ish and I got a call at 330ish. So I had words with the teacher and the asst director. Although very apologetic, more or less, par for the course. Humf. **guilty mom wave washes over me** I politely ask if my kid instigated the bite? is she aggressive? does she bite? does she hit? no, no, no, no she is a great kid. Ok then in that case what can I do differently as a parent to protect my child? and at what point will she become aggressive given she needs to "protect" herself at school? No good answer. Naturally.
Thursday morning, I speak with the director (who in fairness is new as of January 4) and show her the bite. She is horrified and will get to the bottom of it. I begrudgingly drop Ashley off with her new "boo boo" as she calls it and kiss her little 1 1/2 year old head. I feel like I am dropping her off in the wild. **guilty mom wave washes over me** She will be fine I tell myself as I cry my way to work. As I settle into my day, I get a call from DC, two things the director says....1. Ashley got bit again today 2. the kid who bit her has been dis-enrolled. I am in shock. You have got to be kidding me?! I try and keep my cool as my co - workers start gathering around realizing something is very wrong.  I hang up in shock and confusion. You don't read about what to do in these situations. Parent instinct is supposed to kick in right? What do I do? Cooler heads prevail and my co workers push me out to go get Ashley. I cry out of frustration, guilt and anger.  1st and foremost I am a parent and I am supposed to protect my precious baby 2ndly I have a job to do. I have responsibilities in both areas that are not jiving right now. I feel guilty for leaving work but I feel guilty if I left my child there. I am angry I have to make the decision to leave work and I am angry my child is hurt, again. I cry all the way to DC. The scene at DC is just what you would imagine apology after apology. I keep my sunglasses on to hid my red puffy eyes until I see my baby. As soon as she sees me she bursts into tears and so do I. I scoop her up and we stand in the middle of the 1 year old room crying. Both hurt and frustrated. There stand the director, assistant director and teacher at a complete loss. What can the possibly say in this moment. Damage done.  Ashley backs her head up and looks at me to say "home?" "yes baby we're going home" I spin on my heals and say a quick and quiet "thank you" and head out. The director trails me and apologizes the whole way. On my way out the infant teacher, who we love, catches my eye. She knows. I give her a half hearted smile. There is nothing anyone can say or do.  Luckily my husband, who has been out of town all week, comes home that night. We talk through the situation. I've gotten feed back from co-workers, my mom, friends, family etc.... our heads swim with decisions. Some people say "oh it's normal, sorry you are going through this. Been there." Some people say "that is horrifying, I would pull my kid out!" Neither makes me feel better. If it was that easy to just "pull my kid out" I sure as hell would. But it's not. That means time off work to research a new place, pay the initiation fees, plunk the mini down in a place she nor I are familiar with, hope to God she adjusts, and pray she does not get bit her first week....It's just not that easy. We have to muscle through this. We have to pray on this. I need to fight off the guilt demon. I must believe we are  making the right decision for my family.
All things aside, I pray for the family of the little one who bit my baby. As shitty as my day was, I didn't get the call my kid is being kicked out of DC on a Thursday, come get him. WTF!? As a parent I would be horrified and scared. Where do I take him? how do I get him to stop? what if he bites in the new DC? who is taking Friday off to go find a new DC? OMG. My baby will heal on her skin and in her heart. This family is going to struggle everywhere they go until the biting is under control. Based on the directors description of how his parents reacted; this family will struggle with agression issues on a go forward unless they make a new decision. To put it in perspective, this kid has been a biting offender since July and bit more times than I will let on. The previous director should be fired for her negligence.
Today a week or so later, the bad bite is nearly healed. The last bite is non-existent. My precious baby is asleep peacefully in her bed dreaming. The weather is beautiful and I breath a sigh of relief. This week God blessed us again, we have been accepted into a new DC and the mini will start in August once she is 2. We prayed, not for getting into the school, but we prayed for a solution. We prayed she would get in don't get me wrong, but also for strength and guidance if she didn't. Thank the Lord we don't have to make that decision.
Our current DC has made several immediate changes and the director gave us the long term changes as well. I believe this will not only benefit us as we navigate through these upcoming months but every child who enters their doors. I hope and pray DC providers understand the gravity of their jobs. Parents drop their most precious gifts off to them in trust. They are our partners in raising our children. They become part of the fiber that shapes our children's lives. They do not get paid enough. The unfortunate part is DC's are businesses. They need attendance and to turn a profit. That doesn't always benefit the child. What a shame. Please know, I am a huge proponent of DC. I think Ashley has flourished under their care; more than what I can provide at home. I know they have been a part of that. I will always feel guilt. I will always want more time with her. But when I see her interact, talk, play, etc...I know we are ultimately doing the right thing for her and for us. God has not let us down yet. Another lesson in trust and faith. In our darkest most confused hour, He answered our prayers. We should have known he would.

New Years Resolutions

Ok so I don't ever make New Year's Resolutions. I just can't seem to stick to anything, ever. Last year I was super ambitious and opted to commit to flossing daily. That lasted literally two days and the flossers are still in my car today. Best of intentions. This year, I happen to read on Pinterest about a plan to commit to one thing every month. Ok maybe, just maybe, I can do that. I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now and here's what I came up with...

January - "Just Stop January" The holidays were overwhelming for my wallet and my waistline. I'm looking at January like a fast. Only my version...80-90% fasting. I am committing to stop spending money this month; to use what I have. Today is 1/3 and I have bought 4 books (two were gifts, justifiable as they are delayed Christmas gifts, right?) and one lunch out. Ummmm...not looking so good. But I am committed to pushing though and keep working at it. I am also committing to healthier, cleaner eating in January. Thus one of the books I bought is called "It Starts with Food". Eating packed lunch in the office vs. getting fast food or carry out. Better food choices in general. Today I had Mel's Hot Dog's for lunch (hey it was a stressful day!). Ummmm....not looking so good. 

What I am figuring out is: 1. I have a hard time committing to anything 2. I have a real struggle with what I am "entitled" to because "I work so hard". I can justify any purchase or junk food fest and finally 3. I have a hard time committing to anything. Notice a theme? 

I got to thinking about the other months. What are some other ill's plaguing my heart? An interesting list grew:

• No Face Book 
• No gossiping 
• Quit swearing (for 30 days! *#$&#*@)!)
• Take care of my feet (I know it sounds weird but my feet are a hot mess..they need some love)

That's as far as I got.  I should really be able to commit to something, anything for 30 days.  This is my prayer, for God to help me stick January out. Help me think through this month of gluttonous detox and make some better choices. Watch my pennies and my waistline. Both of which could use a little tending to. Then I'll see what is on my heart come February.

Here's to giving resolutions a whirl...if you have made you're own resolutions; I'll be praying for you. Maybe you can ride along with me and try out 30 day resolutions. Let me know! Obviously, God is talking to my heart and resting these issues there for me to concentrate on. Maybe the commitment is really to open my ears to what He's trying to tell me. 

Truth in Pictures

The above picture is from our Christmas cards this year. For me, this is the epitome of Home and Garden magazine perfect. What our photographer captured is everything I have ever dreamed my life to be...husband, dog, kid, nice house, beautiful Christmas decor, etc... I find myself working more and more everyday toward this type of perfect. The unattainable perfect. While there is definitely some truth in pictures...in our house it would look more like: Mommy - sweatpants, no make up (ummm, yikes), hair (unwashed) up in a clip and probably food and/or snot on my shirt. Daddy - Duck Dynasty shirt (wears everyday, regardless), sweat shorts and bed head. Ashley - onesie, pants, one sock on and one sock off, hair EVERYWHERE, banana in her hair and food on and in her shirt. Now, lucky for our friends and family that picture didn't grace our cards. But that picture is the truth. That is our life...for real. But everyday, I strive for perfection. The unattainable type.
This week we had some daycare drama.  Drama that has us considering a daycare change. That said, I've never felt the type of indecisive, gut checking feelings that this situation has faced us with. In truth, day care is a choice. If we had to or chose to we could live off one income. Our daycare is a choice, we could pull Ashley out and place her at a new facility. So in light of these choices, I feel guilt. Are we doing the right thing? are we being selfish? Now, by drama I am not talking our kid got beat up, abused, harmed, etc... Our expectations are not being met in her current class room; not in the educational or nurturing sense. Our director has expressed that their expectations are the same as ours and they will work on her classroom. Only time will tell. It's a horrible feeling thinking you are gambling on the welfare of your child. But are we really? are we being over zealous? WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL US PARENTING WAS SO HARD!? parenting pushes and pulls your heart and mind in ways they have never been pushed.
Perfection. It is the master to which we work everyday. Make more money, buy more cool things, do more in life. Money = better life. Daycare, the entity we pay to help us work harder for more money. Daycare, this place we expect to be equal to us day in and day out with 10x more kids. Daycare, our co-parent; the crutch that we lean on to help us to perfection. The unattainable kind.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses. So that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong"
Our pastor said today "Shape your lens with truth or your circumstances will shape them for you" Isn't that the freaking truth. The more I seek perfection, the more I come up empty. I will never get there. Isn't that disappointing? or is it?  It has been in that disappointment; in that black hole of chasing that I found God. Because of course, a piece of the puzzle of this image is you go to Church like a good person. I am trusting God to lead us through this daycare dilemma. I am not trying not to let the insecurities of my weaknesses get the best of me. Ashley is an amazing kid and gift to us. I'm trying to let the perfect go so I don't bestow this lovely gift upon her.
Below is a picture of what really happened when we got our pictures taken...the ones that were (of course) not chosen to reflect our Home and Garden family....they are hilarious and I should have used them. Next year. There's always grace in the future. 

Ashley ran around like a crazy kid...well, she is one and a half. Maybe she is the one who will teach us grace. After all, she is the answer to so many prayers already.