Tonight was like any other. The craziness that ensues trying to get the kids bathed and ready for bed. Scrambling around the house to make sure their back packs are packed and their lunches and snacks are ready for the next day. Clearing the dinner table and cleaning the kitchen disaster. And then it happened. The dish washer was loaded. The counters all cleaned. My husband said to me... Can I turn on the dishwasher and I replied... What does that even mean? Would you like me to help you press the button? Thankfully he has a sense of humor and also speaks fluent sarcasm. But tonight instead of snapping back with something witty and equally sarcastic he said no I am asking because before you almost had a heart attack that I turned the dishwasher on before you were ready.
Honestly it sounded so ridiculous coming out of his mouth we both started to laugh. The thing is...its not really funny. Earlier in the day I was going to make dinner. I like to put the dishes in the dishwasher immediately after I use them. I couldn't because the dishwasher was already running. Instead of thanking my husband for cleaning up lunch and breakfast and doing the dishes I SNAPPED at him. WHY IS THE DISHWASHER ON?! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THAT?! NOW ALL THESE DISHES ARE GONNA SIT IN THE SINK!!! (god forbid that happened) SERIOUSLY YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THAT!!! AND THE DISWASHER WAS NOT EVEN FULL. ITS BASICALLY A WASTE OF 2 HOURS AND TWICE THE WORK. SO THANKS FOR THAT!
In the moment I was really annoyed! I did not give one thought to what a bitch I was being. I felt justified. And totally aggravated as I put the pots and pans in the sink. So this is the part where I have that moment that I say to myself... LIKE WOAH YOU NEED TO TONE IT DOWN. That level of petty bitchiness is so uncalled for! And if the shoe was on the other foot things would have went down totally different. But they didn't... because he doesn't talk to me like that.
Of course then to make matters worse when he DOES ask if he can turn on the dishwasher to make sure that's what I want I talked to him like he was... well an idiot. That's tough to even type. Because I do not think that of my husband at all and I am almost embarrassed that I did talk to him that way on both occasions.
So, time for a little self reflection. Time to take a good look in the mirror and admit this is not me at my best. He deserves better than the bat shit crazy wife that loses it over the freaking dishwasher!
It is so easy to get caught up and burnt out by all the every day stuff! I've been a little over worked and a lot over tired. So this was the reality check I needed. Stop sweating the small stuff! The next time my husband does something nice for me (no matter how little help or how much hindrance it actually was) I am going to take a deep breath and thank him (while I silently have a mental breakdown).
Really its the least I could do.
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Friday, March 10, 2017
Crossing the line
Don't think I wont embarrass you in front your friends!!! Because I totally will!!!
We all say it. And we mean it. And we secretly hope the warning is more than enough. We really want the fear of being embarrassed in front of your peers to be all you need to behave. We want to be the cool mom. We want to not lose our shit and show that side of crazy to your friends. We also don't want your friends running home and telling their moms you wont believe what Aidan's mom did!!!
As many times that I have uttered those words I have never actually followed through. My kids are generally annoying when they are with their friends. They push the limits of what is the norm in our house. I usually smile and bite my tongue. And give my kids that side ways squinty glare as they walk by to let them know they better chill. If the telepathic message was not received via the side eye I pull them aside mutter through a clenched jaw... an almost inaudible whisper... cut. the. shit.
Today my 10 year old crossed the line. And scary mommy creeped out from behind that painful everything is fine smile and totally lost her shit.
It's 10 am. The kids have a snow day. Yay for sleeping in! Quickly the realization that you are trapped in the house with children that go bonkers on an unexpected day off sets in. I'm already looking through amazon video to see what new movies are out. Oh and there is pizza dough in the fridge they can all make their own pizza for lunch. Yes and Moana is on so we are all good.
Until the doorbell rings at 11 am. There stands our neighbor and her son. Who she wants to leave with us for a few hours. Oh my God of course take your time! We will see you later! And just like that all good has turned into oh crap. And this is no reflection on said neighbor or her child. Its my kids! They go from lounging on the couch with gold fish and Disney movies to dumping toy buckets and being obnoxious is 5 seconds flat.
Take a deep breath! Its not the end of the world. So what you just cleaned that room you didn't really expect it to stay that way all day.
Then I hear it. A crash. Something broke. Someone, nope more than one child is crying. Deep Deep breath and possibly zanax are required at this point. Why am I not surprised to see my 10 year old and his friend "playing" monkey in the middle with my two much smaller clearly upset children. Oh and the broken vase?! Did they not notice or do they just not care???
I pull Aidan aside warn him... if you do not cut the shit you are going to be terribly embarrassed in front of your friend. Half hour passes all is quiet. I'm upstairs cleaning. I come down to grab windex and find my kids in the kitchen watching their big brother shaking soda cans and spraying them to entertain his friend. I wonder if I should seek medical attention for this child because he has clearly lost his mind!
So he crossed the line and with no warning I totally. lost. my. shit. He stomped up the stairs with tears streaming down his face telling me he hates me under his breath. His friend stood there silently staring at the floor afraid to make eye contact with Aidan's crazy mom.
The weird thing is I am almost glad that this day has come to pass. Now he knows with out a doubt it is by no means an empty threat. He knows I excpect more from him. And hopefully the next time he has a friend over I wont have to spend the first our keeping him in check with my contorted unhappy mom face.
Although he is embarrassed and hates me today. He will get over it. He will also learn he can only push the limits so far before he crosses the line, and that I hope he will realize applies to life and not just this home.
We all say it. And we mean it. And we secretly hope the warning is more than enough. We really want the fear of being embarrassed in front of your peers to be all you need to behave. We want to be the cool mom. We want to not lose our shit and show that side of crazy to your friends. We also don't want your friends running home and telling their moms you wont believe what Aidan's mom did!!!
As many times that I have uttered those words I have never actually followed through. My kids are generally annoying when they are with their friends. They push the limits of what is the norm in our house. I usually smile and bite my tongue. And give my kids that side ways squinty glare as they walk by to let them know they better chill. If the telepathic message was not received via the side eye I pull them aside mutter through a clenched jaw... an almost inaudible whisper... cut. the. shit.
Today my 10 year old crossed the line. And scary mommy creeped out from behind that painful everything is fine smile and totally lost her shit.
It's 10 am. The kids have a snow day. Yay for sleeping in! Quickly the realization that you are trapped in the house with children that go bonkers on an unexpected day off sets in. I'm already looking through amazon video to see what new movies are out. Oh and there is pizza dough in the fridge they can all make their own pizza for lunch. Yes and Moana is on so we are all good.
Until the doorbell rings at 11 am. There stands our neighbor and her son. Who she wants to leave with us for a few hours. Oh my God of course take your time! We will see you later! And just like that all good has turned into oh crap. And this is no reflection on said neighbor or her child. Its my kids! They go from lounging on the couch with gold fish and Disney movies to dumping toy buckets and being obnoxious is 5 seconds flat.
Take a deep breath! Its not the end of the world. So what you just cleaned that room you didn't really expect it to stay that way all day.
Then I hear it. A crash. Something broke. Someone, nope more than one child is crying. Deep Deep breath and possibly zanax are required at this point. Why am I not surprised to see my 10 year old and his friend "playing" monkey in the middle with my two much smaller clearly upset children. Oh and the broken vase?! Did they not notice or do they just not care???
I pull Aidan aside warn him... if you do not cut the shit you are going to be terribly embarrassed in front of your friend. Half hour passes all is quiet. I'm upstairs cleaning. I come down to grab windex and find my kids in the kitchen watching their big brother shaking soda cans and spraying them to entertain his friend. I wonder if I should seek medical attention for this child because he has clearly lost his mind!
So he crossed the line and with no warning I totally. lost. my. shit. He stomped up the stairs with tears streaming down his face telling me he hates me under his breath. His friend stood there silently staring at the floor afraid to make eye contact with Aidan's crazy mom.
The weird thing is I am almost glad that this day has come to pass. Now he knows with out a doubt it is by no means an empty threat. He knows I excpect more from him. And hopefully the next time he has a friend over I wont have to spend the first our keeping him in check with my contorted unhappy mom face.
Although he is embarrassed and hates me today. He will get over it. He will also learn he can only push the limits so far before he crosses the line, and that I hope he will realize applies to life and not just this home.
Monday, March 6, 2017
This Love
Normally I write about my kids. Because well I spend 99 % of my with time them, thinking about them, planning things for them, taking care of them. But lately there has been something else on my mind (also).
This love.
This love that I share with my husband. Soon we will be married 14 years! 14!!!! So first how did that happen? Cause it just doesn't feel possible. But man 14 years! Cohabitating. Sleeping in the same bed. Eating at the same table. Living. And Breathing in the same space. God bless this man! Because truth be told I can be hard to co-exist with. My mom might tell you that is an understatement. I am stubborn with a bit of OCD. I talk A. LOT. Speaking 85% of the time in fluent sarcasm. I'm moody and particular. I can be over sensitive and super irrational. I'm impulsive and hate being told no. I'm basically my 3 year old with large boobs. And by some miracle he still loves me.
I have been anywhere from 120 pounds to 250! Because there is no in between with me. I am either all in or totally given up. It's a diet of salad and slimfast with aside of exercise or its coffee and reeses and that elliptical machine takes up too much space maybe we should sell it. I haven't just gone through hair phases. I go through split personalities. From long and blonde to a shaved Mohawk that is red and white and either way fat or skinny, conventional or edgy he doesn't freakin bat an eye! He has loved me. All of me. For exactly who I am.
This isn't to say it doesn't go both ways. 10 years ago there were moments when I could have choked him with the socks he left on the floor in front of the recliner for the 900th time! Fleeting moments of course. I never really considered causing him bodily harm. Not over the socks anyway.
This love... It has not been perfect. It has not always been easy. But this love... it has always been patient and kind.
This love has evolved and continues to change. Some people spend their whole life chasing butterflies. And sure nothing will ever feel like that first date, that first kiss, that first time.... But there are a million other firsts past the butterflies that won't hold a candle to anything before. Like the first time you look at him as the father of your children. And suddenly he has become someone brand new. There may not be butterflies but there is this love that has evolved into something so much deeper, trading it for anything new would be crazy.
Life changes. So quickly. Not every day will be a good one. You might go through the very worst together and the only thing that holds you up is his love. And yours does the same for him. After the storm you might find everything has once again changed... but you see the rainbow and at the other side, there it is, all the love you leaned on.
This love. His love. Has changed me. Over the years we have grown up and grown together. We have grown our family and learned to grow the appreciation that we have for each other with every passing stage.
This love has taught us that marriage is about letting go and giving in and forgetting about the socks on the floor. Its about standing your ground too but being wise enough to pick your battles. Its about choosing this love everyday above anything else. It's about putting him and yourself first... together.
We might not be perfect. We might not have it all. But we have it together and this love... it's all I could ever ask for.
This love.
This love that I share with my husband. Soon we will be married 14 years! 14!!!! So first how did that happen? Cause it just doesn't feel possible. But man 14 years! Cohabitating. Sleeping in the same bed. Eating at the same table. Living. And Breathing in the same space. God bless this man! Because truth be told I can be hard to co-exist with. My mom might tell you that is an understatement. I am stubborn with a bit of OCD. I talk A. LOT. Speaking 85% of the time in fluent sarcasm. I'm moody and particular. I can be over sensitive and super irrational. I'm impulsive and hate being told no. I'm basically my 3 year old with large boobs. And by some miracle he still loves me.
I have been anywhere from 120 pounds to 250! Because there is no in between with me. I am either all in or totally given up. It's a diet of salad and slimfast with aside of exercise or its coffee and reeses and that elliptical machine takes up too much space maybe we should sell it. I haven't just gone through hair phases. I go through split personalities. From long and blonde to a shaved Mohawk that is red and white and either way fat or skinny, conventional or edgy he doesn't freakin bat an eye! He has loved me. All of me. For exactly who I am.
This isn't to say it doesn't go both ways. 10 years ago there were moments when I could have choked him with the socks he left on the floor in front of the recliner for the 900th time! Fleeting moments of course. I never really considered causing him bodily harm. Not over the socks anyway.
This love... It has not been perfect. It has not always been easy. But this love... it has always been patient and kind.
This love has evolved and continues to change. Some people spend their whole life chasing butterflies. And sure nothing will ever feel like that first date, that first kiss, that first time.... But there are a million other firsts past the butterflies that won't hold a candle to anything before. Like the first time you look at him as the father of your children. And suddenly he has become someone brand new. There may not be butterflies but there is this love that has evolved into something so much deeper, trading it for anything new would be crazy.
Life changes. So quickly. Not every day will be a good one. You might go through the very worst together and the only thing that holds you up is his love. And yours does the same for him. After the storm you might find everything has once again changed... but you see the rainbow and at the other side, there it is, all the love you leaned on.
This love. His love. Has changed me. Over the years we have grown up and grown together. We have grown our family and learned to grow the appreciation that we have for each other with every passing stage.
This love has taught us that marriage is about letting go and giving in and forgetting about the socks on the floor. Its about standing your ground too but being wise enough to pick your battles. Its about choosing this love everyday above anything else. It's about putting him and yourself first... together.
We might not be perfect. We might not have it all. But we have it together and this love... it's all I could ever ask for.
Thursday, February 2, 2017
10 is...
A decade ago we welcomed our first baby into the world. I worried about the littlest things. Things that seem so incredibly ridiculous now. The temperature in the house... was it warm enough, too warm? Do we put a blanket on him at night? Id wake up in the middle of the night and look at the monitor to find he had rolled on to his belly and PANIC! Breastfeeding was hard. Hard to know how much he was actually eating when there is no bottle to get a visual. At first he gained weight slowly. I worried day and night. Do we switch to formula? Do we stick this out? Do we wait and seeand hope we are making the better decision. Milestone markers drove me insane.
I remember going for a well visit and the doctor asked me if he was rolling around to get things that were out his reach. What? No. Should he be? Is he delayed? Is something wrong? And while all of that was going on inside my head I looked at the doctor almost embarrassed to say anything... and blurted out its my fault! I never put anything out his reach! It never occurred to me. Like why would I put something across the room... he doesn't walk... He can't crawl yet... he cant even talk to tell me! I left that appointment feeling so so stupid! We got home I laid Aidan on the floor on his little mat and pushed the toys out of his reach. Sure enough he rolled over to get them.
I worried all the time. Who knew babies were so stressful?! Who knew it only gets worse... the worry I mean. At some point I felt like I had gotten a handle on things, that the major worries were behind me. He was walking and talking before his first birthday. He could not only say but identify the letters of the alphabet and was counting to 10 like a pro. We had managed to survive stomach bugs and the flu. Like was there anything we couldn't handle?! Ummmmm yes. A whole bunch of shit.
I was learning that I needed to strike a balance... between my fears and reality. Worrying about everything didn't stop the bad stuff from happening but it did put a damper on the good and uneventful times. I needed to enjoy more and stress less. The years were flying by and spending each passing day in a panic was not good for anyone.
Then it came time to register for school. I never anticipated just how hard their school years would be on me. If you think that grammar school was hard when you were a kid, take that times 1,000 and there you have what it feels like to have a kid in grammar school. All those feelings of insecurity that had been for so long a thing of the past come rushing back. Only worse. Will he make friends easily? Will the other kids be nice to him? Will his teacher be nice and caring and speak gently? Will he (I) make it through the day okay?
The first few years of school despite my fears were easy. The classes were small. The children were little and adorable. Despite the fact that we all know a 4 year old can be a total asshole at home with their tantrums and blatant disregard for your efforts in keeping a tidy house they are relatively nice to other pint sized people. And at that age in a classroom setting they are well supervised so there is not much room for them to behave otherwise. Aidan was getting along just fine and again I realized I needed to put my fears for him into perspective because for the most part things were good.
As with much of life things are fine until they are not. Not that we did not incur any hiccups through ages 7, 8, or 9.... but 10... 10 is proving to be a tough age. 10 looks like a child but talks like a teenager. 10 is aware of what other people think and starting to really care. 10 is emotional and fueled with hormones which if you don't know is sort of a recipe for disaster. 10 is insecure. 10 is finding yourself suddenly in "love" with a friend that doesn't feel the same way. 10 is finding your own voice and learning to stand up for yourself. 10 is fucking hard (for me too).
10 has brought me to tears, made me reevaluate, 10 has tugged at my heart and has me remembering what 10 really felt like. 10 is listening to their troubles and knowing you cant fix them all. 10 is giving advice that you have no idea whether it is right or wrong. 10 has made me realize it is time to strike a balance again.
It is really hard navigating these adolescent waters. Partly because other 10 year olds are assholes and not in the way my toddler can be an asshole. Watching your 10 year old learn the incredibly difficult lessons that life has to offer, delivered by another mean 10 year old is painful. I hear myself uttering empty words... like be the bigger person, walk away, take the high road.... while everything in me screams STAND UP FOR YOURSELF! Whatever that takes. Put 10 in its place!
I listen to 10 with my worried mind and heavy heart agonizingly understanding where he is coming from. Hoping the love we give him here is more than enough to ease the struggles of 10 and every age after.
I remember going for a well visit and the doctor asked me if he was rolling around to get things that were out his reach. What? No. Should he be? Is he delayed? Is something wrong? And while all of that was going on inside my head I looked at the doctor almost embarrassed to say anything... and blurted out its my fault! I never put anything out his reach! It never occurred to me. Like why would I put something across the room... he doesn't walk... He can't crawl yet... he cant even talk to tell me! I left that appointment feeling so so stupid! We got home I laid Aidan on the floor on his little mat and pushed the toys out of his reach. Sure enough he rolled over to get them.
I worried all the time. Who knew babies were so stressful?! Who knew it only gets worse... the worry I mean. At some point I felt like I had gotten a handle on things, that the major worries were behind me. He was walking and talking before his first birthday. He could not only say but identify the letters of the alphabet and was counting to 10 like a pro. We had managed to survive stomach bugs and the flu. Like was there anything we couldn't handle?! Ummmmm yes. A whole bunch of shit.
I was learning that I needed to strike a balance... between my fears and reality. Worrying about everything didn't stop the bad stuff from happening but it did put a damper on the good and uneventful times. I needed to enjoy more and stress less. The years were flying by and spending each passing day in a panic was not good for anyone.
Then it came time to register for school. I never anticipated just how hard their school years would be on me. If you think that grammar school was hard when you were a kid, take that times 1,000 and there you have what it feels like to have a kid in grammar school. All those feelings of insecurity that had been for so long a thing of the past come rushing back. Only worse. Will he make friends easily? Will the other kids be nice to him? Will his teacher be nice and caring and speak gently? Will he (I) make it through the day okay?
The first few years of school despite my fears were easy. The classes were small. The children were little and adorable. Despite the fact that we all know a 4 year old can be a total asshole at home with their tantrums and blatant disregard for your efforts in keeping a tidy house they are relatively nice to other pint sized people. And at that age in a classroom setting they are well supervised so there is not much room for them to behave otherwise. Aidan was getting along just fine and again I realized I needed to put my fears for him into perspective because for the most part things were good.
As with much of life things are fine until they are not. Not that we did not incur any hiccups through ages 7, 8, or 9.... but 10... 10 is proving to be a tough age. 10 looks like a child but talks like a teenager. 10 is aware of what other people think and starting to really care. 10 is emotional and fueled with hormones which if you don't know is sort of a recipe for disaster. 10 is insecure. 10 is finding yourself suddenly in "love" with a friend that doesn't feel the same way. 10 is finding your own voice and learning to stand up for yourself. 10 is fucking hard (for me too).
10 has brought me to tears, made me reevaluate, 10 has tugged at my heart and has me remembering what 10 really felt like. 10 is listening to their troubles and knowing you cant fix them all. 10 is giving advice that you have no idea whether it is right or wrong. 10 has made me realize it is time to strike a balance again.
It is really hard navigating these adolescent waters. Partly because other 10 year olds are assholes and not in the way my toddler can be an asshole. Watching your 10 year old learn the incredibly difficult lessons that life has to offer, delivered by another mean 10 year old is painful. I hear myself uttering empty words... like be the bigger person, walk away, take the high road.... while everything in me screams STAND UP FOR YOURSELF! Whatever that takes. Put 10 in its place!
I listen to 10 with my worried mind and heavy heart agonizingly understanding where he is coming from. Hoping the love we give him here is more than enough to ease the struggles of 10 and every age after.
Friday, January 27, 2017
faking it.... friendships in your 30's
You would think that making friends gets easier as you get older. Right? No. Nope. Just not so. Or not for me. Here I am smack in the middle of my thirties still trying to figure this whole friendship thing out. Don't get me wrong I have a few. I think three constitutes a few... well a couple would be 2 and I have I am pretty sure one more than that, so lets go with a few. And if you count my mother then that's four and that could technically make a bunch. But a bunch sounds like a lot... like yeah I have bunch of friends... oh who are they?.... Ummmm you know... well my mom is one... For the sake of keeping it real I have a few friends. And the ones I have I love and I wouldn't trade them for a million dollars. On most days. Cause some days I think I'd give my kidney for a million bucks and lets face it I'd be cool with dropping the count to reflect a couple over a few to keep that kidney.
Anyways... friendships are hard. In particular if you are a giver. I am. I am a giver. I give and give and give until I have nothing left. The problem with that is takers are often drawn to givers. And people like myself have a hard time drawing lines and creating boundaries so we often let takers bleed us dry. By that I mean we over invest. We go the extra mile. We make that phone call. We send that text. We buy that thoughtful little something. We listen even when we aren't heard. We show up. And we don't expect much in return. Because givers also understand that takers don't operate in the same manner, so we... forgive. Overlook. Make excuses. Until the slights and blatant disregard adds up to the undeniable fact that you are in a one sided friendship. And even then, walking away is not easy.
Yes even walking away is hard. Walking away means admitting that you just don't mean as much to that person. And that is a hard thing to admit when you have overextended in so many ways. When you have extended an invitation on every occasion but the offer is rarely if ever reciprocated. When you have listened for countless hours to some one else's struggles and heart ache but cant remember the last time they asked simply how you are doing. When you have shown up for every important event and then listened to the excuses of their busy life when they don't show up for you. It's the hurt in going the extra mile when you often are not even met half way. The realization that you do too much for the ones that you mean so little to.
Even in knowing these truths givers don't change. It is our nature to be the way we are and being anything different, anything less just doesn't make sense. Givers learn the face of fake friendships but are deceived time and time again by the takers. Yet somehow in the disappointment we learn more about ourselves and how to take better care of us. We learn to use this gift of constant giving to change what little space of this planet we occupy. We learn to seek out like minded people and form better more meaningful friendships. Other givers that understand the delicate balance of a solid relationship and know how to not take advantage.
Friendships have always been a struggle for me, but with each failed friendship I hold tighter the ones that have lasted. I have a greater appreciation for the few that always show up, stay connected, and genuinely give so much of themselves back. As for the rest I have learned to fake it, and when to let go.
Anyways... friendships are hard. In particular if you are a giver. I am. I am a giver. I give and give and give until I have nothing left. The problem with that is takers are often drawn to givers. And people like myself have a hard time drawing lines and creating boundaries so we often let takers bleed us dry. By that I mean we over invest. We go the extra mile. We make that phone call. We send that text. We buy that thoughtful little something. We listen even when we aren't heard. We show up. And we don't expect much in return. Because givers also understand that takers don't operate in the same manner, so we... forgive. Overlook. Make excuses. Until the slights and blatant disregard adds up to the undeniable fact that you are in a one sided friendship. And even then, walking away is not easy.
Yes even walking away is hard. Walking away means admitting that you just don't mean as much to that person. And that is a hard thing to admit when you have overextended in so many ways. When you have extended an invitation on every occasion but the offer is rarely if ever reciprocated. When you have listened for countless hours to some one else's struggles and heart ache but cant remember the last time they asked simply how you are doing. When you have shown up for every important event and then listened to the excuses of their busy life when they don't show up for you. It's the hurt in going the extra mile when you often are not even met half way. The realization that you do too much for the ones that you mean so little to.
Even in knowing these truths givers don't change. It is our nature to be the way we are and being anything different, anything less just doesn't make sense. Givers learn the face of fake friendships but are deceived time and time again by the takers. Yet somehow in the disappointment we learn more about ourselves and how to take better care of us. We learn to use this gift of constant giving to change what little space of this planet we occupy. We learn to seek out like minded people and form better more meaningful friendships. Other givers that understand the delicate balance of a solid relationship and know how to not take advantage.
Friendships have always been a struggle for me, but with each failed friendship I hold tighter the ones that have lasted. I have a greater appreciation for the few that always show up, stay connected, and genuinely give so much of themselves back. As for the rest I have learned to fake it, and when to let go.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Back to me
Every Thanksgiving, the holiday I love the most starts this downward spiral for me. I spend the next month and a half being a glutton. I over eat. I over indulge. I get lazy. In turn I get fat. For weeks on end its all cookies, and cheese, and wine and blowing cash at Toys R Us in an attempt to make my spoiled children excited about a visit from a magical fat man.
The holidays come and go and so does my motivation to live any sort of healthy life. I am that person. The one that most of social media apparently despises. The chubby girl that NEEDS some new year, new you bullshit to get my ass in gear. I make no apologies for it. Whatever illogical thoughts transpire in my brain... nothing gives me more hope than the prospect of a fresh start.
Yes January 1st is just another day on the calendar. But it is also the first page of an unwritten book. The story of my life in the year 2017. It excites me. Scares me. Makes me anxious. What will this year have in store for me. If there is a resolution to be made this is the day I'm going to lay it down. This may also be where I set myself up for failure. My goals are usually ridiculous. Completely out of touch with my reality. I know that... and even so I am determined to make this year my year!
January 1st 2017. I sat at the table with a blank piece of paper in front of me. Written at the top... New Year Resolutions. What can I say I like to write. I tried to reflect on all the things that I was not happy about in the prior year. What could I do differently? How could I be better?
First thing on my mind is always my boys. At times I have felt like I am just blowing this whole mom thing! Some days its hard to not feel as though my oldest son is just slipping right through my grasp. He declares his hate for me almost daily. He's annoyed by pretty much everything I say to him. He rolls his eyes so hard when I talk I wonder if I will ever see anything but the whites of his eyes ever again. I often think how did we get here? Is it just the age? Is it me? Did I feel this way about my mother at his age? We get into these screaming matches that make me question my sanity. My parenting. Myself. And it is the worst feeling in the world.
Second on the list. My weight. Ugh my weight. I am so tired of being fat. So tired of being out of shape. Looking and feeling unhealthy. I am tired of dodging everyone with a camera cause I do not want photo documentation of my fat ass at various sizes. I want to be the size I was when I first thought I was fat. Which was high school. Ironically when I was my thinnest. I look at pictures of that girl and wonder where she went. Although I realize happiness is not waiting in the pocket of a smaller size pair of jeans... I am dying to get in them.
Those were the two big ones among a long list.... Work more on building my business. Save money. Consistently write my blog. Be more involved in charity work....
Notice there is nothing in there about my marriage. Well that's because I am the perfect wife. Just don't ask my husband to confirm that.
Anyway staring at this list of overwhelming things I decided to make one simple resolution.
BE BETTER.
That's it. Just. BE. BETTER. No new year new me. I have reached that point in my life where I realized I have worked really hard to get here and I am most of the time content with my life. I don't want to scrap it all and start over. I just want to be better. A better mother, a better wife, a better friend. I want to be healthy and present. I want to be the best version of me that I can be. I think that is what we all want.
How do I get to that... I am not entirely sure. But I am working on small changes. Little attainable goals. Like yelling less. Listening more. Taking care of my neglected body and not by doing some radical diet but making better choices and moving more. Really just getting back to me. At the end of this year I want to be able to look back and instead wondering where that 18 year old version of myself went I want to feel like she is still part of me! So maybe the only way to be better is to seriously get BACK. TO. ME.
Before you go... leave a comment and tell me what your goals are for this year!
and remember sharing is caring. So click to share!
The holidays come and go and so does my motivation to live any sort of healthy life. I am that person. The one that most of social media apparently despises. The chubby girl that NEEDS some new year, new you bullshit to get my ass in gear. I make no apologies for it. Whatever illogical thoughts transpire in my brain... nothing gives me more hope than the prospect of a fresh start.
Yes January 1st is just another day on the calendar. But it is also the first page of an unwritten book. The story of my life in the year 2017. It excites me. Scares me. Makes me anxious. What will this year have in store for me. If there is a resolution to be made this is the day I'm going to lay it down. This may also be where I set myself up for failure. My goals are usually ridiculous. Completely out of touch with my reality. I know that... and even so I am determined to make this year my year!
January 1st 2017. I sat at the table with a blank piece of paper in front of me. Written at the top... New Year Resolutions. What can I say I like to write. I tried to reflect on all the things that I was not happy about in the prior year. What could I do differently? How could I be better?
First thing on my mind is always my boys. At times I have felt like I am just blowing this whole mom thing! Some days its hard to not feel as though my oldest son is just slipping right through my grasp. He declares his hate for me almost daily. He's annoyed by pretty much everything I say to him. He rolls his eyes so hard when I talk I wonder if I will ever see anything but the whites of his eyes ever again. I often think how did we get here? Is it just the age? Is it me? Did I feel this way about my mother at his age? We get into these screaming matches that make me question my sanity. My parenting. Myself. And it is the worst feeling in the world.
Second on the list. My weight. Ugh my weight. I am so tired of being fat. So tired of being out of shape. Looking and feeling unhealthy. I am tired of dodging everyone with a camera cause I do not want photo documentation of my fat ass at various sizes. I want to be the size I was when I first thought I was fat. Which was high school. Ironically when I was my thinnest. I look at pictures of that girl and wonder where she went. Although I realize happiness is not waiting in the pocket of a smaller size pair of jeans... I am dying to get in them.
Those were the two big ones among a long list.... Work more on building my business. Save money. Consistently write my blog. Be more involved in charity work....
Notice there is nothing in there about my marriage. Well that's because I am the perfect wife. Just don't ask my husband to confirm that.
Anyway staring at this list of overwhelming things I decided to make one simple resolution.
BE BETTER.
That's it. Just. BE. BETTER. No new year new me. I have reached that point in my life where I realized I have worked really hard to get here and I am most of the time content with my life. I don't want to scrap it all and start over. I just want to be better. A better mother, a better wife, a better friend. I want to be healthy and present. I want to be the best version of me that I can be. I think that is what we all want.
How do I get to that... I am not entirely sure. But I am working on small changes. Little attainable goals. Like yelling less. Listening more. Taking care of my neglected body and not by doing some radical diet but making better choices and moving more. Really just getting back to me. At the end of this year I want to be able to look back and instead wondering where that 18 year old version of myself went I want to feel like she is still part of me! So maybe the only way to be better is to seriously get BACK. TO. ME.
Before you go... leave a comment and tell me what your goals are for this year!
and remember sharing is caring. So click to share!
Sunday, October 2, 2016
It's all spilled milk
There are moments with my children that will always stay with me. Funny things they said. Little snapshots in my mind of them laughing, wind blowing in their hair, sun light pouring over them. Stuff like favorite bedtime stories and morning snuggles. Moments however fleeting that for some reason even as they are passing you know will just stay with you. I cherish them. I really do. Because there are days I need them... to get me through... all the spilled milk.
We were going to the post office which my kids hate almost as much as I hate going to the gynecologist. There is a subway next to the post office. My middle child begged to eat lunch at subway this particular day. Why they love subway is beyond me since they practically gag at the sight of prepackaged cold cuts which is the staple of a subway sandwich. Somehow it taste better if they cant see the plastic package it came in and costs twice as much.
To subway we go. I don't love taking them out to eat in public places. By which I mean I avoid it as much as I possibly can. But it'subway. What could really go wrong??? Besides everything.
Three. Three is a funny age. You've passed terrible two. They are no longer a wobbly toddler. They don't need a high chair. It should all be smooth sailing from here on out. It's totally not. Not at all. Three is the age of independence and indecisiveness. Three is nonsense and tantrums that even terrible two can't touch. Three is bipolar and belligerent. Three is emotional and very, very loud.Three makes me want four to hurry up and visit.
We walk in and there is a line. Ugh. Three and waiting don't mix. But we make it through. After asking 1,345 times what he'd like to eat we finally order (the lunch he won't eat anyway). At the counter they tell us the kids meal comes with chocolate milk. Cool. We love chocolate milk. And then it happened. Did I mention that three is unpredictable. It is. Unpredictable and explosive. The nice subway guy handed me the chocolate milk. He handed it to me. I repeat he handed it to ME not to three. I know what an asshole?! Who does he think he is handing the chocolate milk to me instead of the tiny person standing next me that he can't see from behind the counter. There was no rectifying this situation. Three had already been unforgivably offended.
I paid for our meals and headed over to the table. Sat all the kids down and passed out their lunches. I leaned over. Twisted off the cap to the chocolate milk and said see he just handed it to me so I could open it for you. Now it is all yours. Three also known as Ry stopped screaming for a brief moment. Squinted his eyes to telepathically say "go fuck yourself" as he reached over and smacked the bottom of the 12oz bottle of chocolate milk. Flipping it over. Sending it into the air as chocolate milk rained down on me and the table before he let out a scream that could be heard by the gods.
My 9 year old sprung from the table. I think he sensed that three would not be having a meltdown alone. He grabbed as many napkins as he could and began sopping up the chocolate mess.if you dont know 12oz is a lot of chocolate milk. Looking directly into my tear filled eyes he whispered "its okay mom I'm gonna clean it all up for you". I could feel the glares of all the other subway patrons. Judging. Silently feeling sorry for me. Thinking my kids would never. I sat there calmly frozen while my kids finished there lunch. Dying to disappear under the table. But I couldn't even seek refuge there as the entire floor was covered in chocolate milk.
Mom we are done. Mom. Mom. Are you ok mom??? We are ready to go!!! I sat there for another minute dreading the walk of shame out subway. As I stood a puddle of chocolate milk that had been gathered in my lap on my dress ran down my legs and into my shoes. I made 2 trips back and forth to the table to throw our garbage out with brown liquid dripping down my legs and shoes making that wet squishy squeaking noise as if nothing had happened.
We made it to the car. The kids got in. I picked Ry up and sat him in his car seat. He had just gained his composure. I looked at his sweet face. Kissed him on his red hot cheek. And whispered in his ear "with God as my witness you will NEVER watch another scooby doo as long as you live if you ever act like that in public again".
And even this. This passing moment in time. One that will stay with me will serve as a reminder tomorrow may be smiles and sunshine even if today was all spilled milk.
We were going to the post office which my kids hate almost as much as I hate going to the gynecologist. There is a subway next to the post office. My middle child begged to eat lunch at subway this particular day. Why they love subway is beyond me since they practically gag at the sight of prepackaged cold cuts which is the staple of a subway sandwich. Somehow it taste better if they cant see the plastic package it came in and costs twice as much.
To subway we go. I don't love taking them out to eat in public places. By which I mean I avoid it as much as I possibly can. But it'subway. What could really go wrong??? Besides everything.
Three. Three is a funny age. You've passed terrible two. They are no longer a wobbly toddler. They don't need a high chair. It should all be smooth sailing from here on out. It's totally not. Not at all. Three is the age of independence and indecisiveness. Three is nonsense and tantrums that even terrible two can't touch. Three is bipolar and belligerent. Three is emotional and very, very loud.Three makes me want four to hurry up and visit.
We walk in and there is a line. Ugh. Three and waiting don't mix. But we make it through. After asking 1,345 times what he'd like to eat we finally order (the lunch he won't eat anyway). At the counter they tell us the kids meal comes with chocolate milk. Cool. We love chocolate milk. And then it happened. Did I mention that three is unpredictable. It is. Unpredictable and explosive. The nice subway guy handed me the chocolate milk. He handed it to me. I repeat he handed it to ME not to three. I know what an asshole?! Who does he think he is handing the chocolate milk to me instead of the tiny person standing next me that he can't see from behind the counter. There was no rectifying this situation. Three had already been unforgivably offended.
I paid for our meals and headed over to the table. Sat all the kids down and passed out their lunches. I leaned over. Twisted off the cap to the chocolate milk and said see he just handed it to me so I could open it for you. Now it is all yours. Three also known as Ry stopped screaming for a brief moment. Squinted his eyes to telepathically say "go fuck yourself" as he reached over and smacked the bottom of the 12oz bottle of chocolate milk. Flipping it over. Sending it into the air as chocolate milk rained down on me and the table before he let out a scream that could be heard by the gods.
My 9 year old sprung from the table. I think he sensed that three would not be having a meltdown alone. He grabbed as many napkins as he could and began sopping up the chocolate mess.if you dont know 12oz is a lot of chocolate milk. Looking directly into my tear filled eyes he whispered "its okay mom I'm gonna clean it all up for you". I could feel the glares of all the other subway patrons. Judging. Silently feeling sorry for me. Thinking my kids would never. I sat there calmly frozen while my kids finished there lunch. Dying to disappear under the table. But I couldn't even seek refuge there as the entire floor was covered in chocolate milk.
Mom we are done. Mom. Mom. Are you ok mom??? We are ready to go!!! I sat there for another minute dreading the walk of shame out subway. As I stood a puddle of chocolate milk that had been gathered in my lap on my dress ran down my legs and into my shoes. I made 2 trips back and forth to the table to throw our garbage out with brown liquid dripping down my legs and shoes making that wet squishy squeaking noise as if nothing had happened.
We made it to the car. The kids got in. I picked Ry up and sat him in his car seat. He had just gained his composure. I looked at his sweet face. Kissed him on his red hot cheek. And whispered in his ear "with God as my witness you will NEVER watch another scooby doo as long as you live if you ever act like that in public again".
And even this. This passing moment in time. One that will stay with me will serve as a reminder tomorrow may be smiles and sunshine even if today was all spilled milk.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Moving On... Moving In
We're not in Kansas anymore. Just kidding we never were. But seriously... we aren't. We moved from the city to the country since the last time I have written a blog. And its safe to say I feel a bit like Dorothy. Every thing is new and wonderful... and unfamiliar. We have bears in our back yard. Strange bugs. Noises that we have never heard before. A quiet darkness (by which I mean you cant see 2 feet in front of you at night) its peaceful and tranquil and fucking creepy all at the same time.
There are turkey vultures, spiders on steroids, and moths bigger than birds. Our neighbors are nice, friendly, they even invite you over for no reason at all... I know so weird... right?! All of this newness makes me want to smile and wave and invite them over for coffee and lock my doors, shut my blinds, and run away. Talk about feeling conflicted. I have been burned before and it makes me leery of forming new friendships.
REWIND (sometime in 2015)
My home town. My house. I felt like both were closing in on me. Suffocating me. I hated the school. The mayor. The moms. I'd burned every bridge to every meaningful friendship that I had made there (with no regrets). Well maybe one... that I let them go to me the way they did. However at this point if I could tell those ex "friends" one thing it would be...go f@*% yourself... where did that come from??? I meant I would tell them thank you. And I do mean that. Without their total shitfullness to push me over the edge I'd probably still be daydreaming about a house in the country instead of living in one.
So we decide to move. Easy peasy put this house for sale and off we go right? Wrong. So, so wrong. Who knew the process of buying and selling is long and excruciating. I'm gonna assume anyone who has bought and sold property before. If you haven't already you can thank me later on for the heads up. (your welcome).
Selling. Like we can totally do this ourselves... I mean why not I see "for sale by owner" all the time and with the internet... nope. Just no. Don't do it. I mean people came to see it. One family even came three times. Talked to us about loving the house, the neighborhood, the block... etc. Their last visit to the house they asked to see the attic. Sure. Go right on up. I stood on the second floor landing with this prospective buyers wife chatting about babies while he climbed the stairs to where the drop down ladder was for the attic. Yup right there just pull that string down and the ladder is in there. He pulls the string. The door flies open and like a scene from a horror movie out drops a giant dead black bird. I dont blame them for fleeing the house like it was on fire. If I were them I would I have totally seen this as a bad omen and fled as well! We never heard from them again.
My husband came home from work later that day and I said remember when I told you I thought I heard scratching in the attic a few months back and you said you would check it out... but you never did. And then the scratching just stopped and you said whatever it was left? Well you were wrong. It died. And it practically attacked that nice couple that was interested in the house. Now we will be here forever.
Forever is what it felt like too. We finally decided to hire a realtor. That went well. By well I mean during our first open house I returned home to get something to find the realtor next door showing my neighbors house while people wandered around ours completely unattended. We took the house off the market and decided all these mishaps were a sign that it wasn't the right time.
It really wasn't. I didn't believe that then. I believed the universe was conspiring to keep me trapped in this is tiny two faced town. Truth is I was running away. Running away from mean girls and broken relationships that were too close for comfort. Running away from gossip and public problems I encountered with the school system. You never want to leave because your running away. Go because your moving towards something.
Over the year that it took us to sell the house I had time to make peace with some things and figure out what we were moving towards. By the time we found our new house and sold our old one... I was no longer running... just moving on. And it felt so good. It felt right.
Moving in.
Finally both houses were closed on. Of course not with out some hiccups. Some people would not call their buyer taking a spontaneous trip to India for an undetermined amount of time hours before the closing a hiccup... and truthfully neither would I. As it was happening I recall a few choice words I had for it and hiccup was not one of them. But I'm like Theresa Guidice post jail time.... all zen and namaste btiches. So hiccup it is.
The hiccups cleared up and here we are all moved in. Which has been fun. For one I got to pintrest like it was my job and instead of just pinning a bunch of stuff that I will never actually follow through on my entire house now reflects my pinning dedication. It also reflects in our bank account. Don't tell my husband.
We also go to do other fun stuff.. like learn about septic systems (gag) and water softners... lots of really fun things. We got an education about local bears and what they will do to your garbage if you leave it outside the house. Funny story: A friend of mine also from the city said to me have you seen many bears up there? I said yes but only on garbage days so far. Her reply... How do they know its garbage day?
Me: I don't think they have it marked on a calendar in their den... pretty sure they just smell the garbage out.
We both had a good laugh.
Our new house has a hot tub. Something I have always wanted. I couldn't wait to use it. And then I couldn't wait to get out of it. You know what cicadas sound like on a summer night in the country??? like the apocalypse!
All kidding aside we love our new home... wild life, neighbors, and all. Moving on and moving in have been overwhelming and incredibly welcomed. I finally feel like I can breathe again.
There are turkey vultures, spiders on steroids, and moths bigger than birds. Our neighbors are nice, friendly, they even invite you over for no reason at all... I know so weird... right?! All of this newness makes me want to smile and wave and invite them over for coffee and lock my doors, shut my blinds, and run away. Talk about feeling conflicted. I have been burned before and it makes me leery of forming new friendships.
REWIND (sometime in 2015)
My home town. My house. I felt like both were closing in on me. Suffocating me. I hated the school. The mayor. The moms. I'd burned every bridge to every meaningful friendship that I had made there (with no regrets). Well maybe one... that I let them go to me the way they did. However at this point if I could tell those ex "friends" one thing it would be...go f@*% yourself... where did that come from??? I meant I would tell them thank you. And I do mean that. Without their total shitfullness to push me over the edge I'd probably still be daydreaming about a house in the country instead of living in one.
So we decide to move. Easy peasy put this house for sale and off we go right? Wrong. So, so wrong. Who knew the process of buying and selling is long and excruciating. I'm gonna assume anyone who has bought and sold property before. If you haven't already you can thank me later on for the heads up. (your welcome).
Selling. Like we can totally do this ourselves... I mean why not I see "for sale by owner" all the time and with the internet... nope. Just no. Don't do it. I mean people came to see it. One family even came three times. Talked to us about loving the house, the neighborhood, the block... etc. Their last visit to the house they asked to see the attic. Sure. Go right on up. I stood on the second floor landing with this prospective buyers wife chatting about babies while he climbed the stairs to where the drop down ladder was for the attic. Yup right there just pull that string down and the ladder is in there. He pulls the string. The door flies open and like a scene from a horror movie out drops a giant dead black bird. I dont blame them for fleeing the house like it was on fire. If I were them I would I have totally seen this as a bad omen and fled as well! We never heard from them again.
My husband came home from work later that day and I said remember when I told you I thought I heard scratching in the attic a few months back and you said you would check it out... but you never did. And then the scratching just stopped and you said whatever it was left? Well you were wrong. It died. And it practically attacked that nice couple that was interested in the house. Now we will be here forever.
Forever is what it felt like too. We finally decided to hire a realtor. That went well. By well I mean during our first open house I returned home to get something to find the realtor next door showing my neighbors house while people wandered around ours completely unattended. We took the house off the market and decided all these mishaps were a sign that it wasn't the right time.
It really wasn't. I didn't believe that then. I believed the universe was conspiring to keep me trapped in this is tiny two faced town. Truth is I was running away. Running away from mean girls and broken relationships that were too close for comfort. Running away from gossip and public problems I encountered with the school system. You never want to leave because your running away. Go because your moving towards something.
Over the year that it took us to sell the house I had time to make peace with some things and figure out what we were moving towards. By the time we found our new house and sold our old one... I was no longer running... just moving on. And it felt so good. It felt right.
Moving in.
Finally both houses were closed on. Of course not with out some hiccups. Some people would not call their buyer taking a spontaneous trip to India for an undetermined amount of time hours before the closing a hiccup... and truthfully neither would I. As it was happening I recall a few choice words I had for it and hiccup was not one of them. But I'm like Theresa Guidice post jail time.... all zen and namaste btiches. So hiccup it is.
The hiccups cleared up and here we are all moved in. Which has been fun. For one I got to pintrest like it was my job and instead of just pinning a bunch of stuff that I will never actually follow through on my entire house now reflects my pinning dedication. It also reflects in our bank account. Don't tell my husband.
We also go to do other fun stuff.. like learn about septic systems (gag) and water softners... lots of really fun things. We got an education about local bears and what they will do to your garbage if you leave it outside the house. Funny story: A friend of mine also from the city said to me have you seen many bears up there? I said yes but only on garbage days so far. Her reply... How do they know its garbage day?
Me: I don't think they have it marked on a calendar in their den... pretty sure they just smell the garbage out.
We both had a good laugh.
Our new house has a hot tub. Something I have always wanted. I couldn't wait to use it. And then I couldn't wait to get out of it. You know what cicadas sound like on a summer night in the country??? like the apocalypse!
All kidding aside we love our new home... wild life, neighbors, and all. Moving on and moving in have been overwhelming and incredibly welcomed. I finally feel like I can breathe again.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
So you didn't win the power ball...
So you didn't win the 1.5 billion dollar jackpot... neither did I. Fuck. I mean seriously I was kind of banking on that shit. Planned the rest of my year accordingly and what not. So yeah... FUCK! Not building a house on the beach. Or not this year anyway.
When you think of all the opportunities out there its kinda crazy that this one in a 292 million chance makes everyone pause. And dream. For most part the dreams I hear spoken out loud even by strangers were simple. Pay off my debt. Help my family. Go on vacation. Donate to charity.
While $1.5 billion would make all of these dreams a reality in the blink of an eye there is no reason to stop dreaming for the things most of us want are not that far out of reach.
Pay off debt. A stack of bills can seem insurmountable but they aren't. Stop waiting to win the lottery to live free of the financial burdens that are weighing you down.
1. Create a budget and stick to it.
I highly recommend deleting any shopping apps that you have on your smart phone. Amazon one click to buy. DANGEROUS. Zulily... get rid of it. Those flash sales are so tempting. But honestly do your research they are not quite the bargain they appear to be. GROUPON. Gone. Don't splurge on offers that seem to good to be true. They are. And you don't need the juice cleanse that is 65% off. It is still gonna taste like shit and sit in your freezer with all the other diet regrets you have. Trust me.
Eliminate the temptations and start living with in your means. Simplifying your life and spending is with in your power and easier than you think. You just have to commit to it and remind yourself you are not Carrie Bradshaw.
2. Pay off your credit cards. Start with the one that carries the highest balance and go from there. Always pay more than the minimum. Consolidate if you have to. Got a bonus from work? Put it towards your debt. Good tax return? Put it towards your debt. Cash from Christmas? Your Birthday? PUT IT TOWARDS YOUR DEBT! Ugh no fun! No... no fun at all! But neither is debt. When it is all paid off you will feel great and be able to reward yourself for all the fun you didn't partake in. Just don't put it on the damn card... Have I taught you nothing ?!
Help my family. Truth is you won't know how many family members you have in need until you hit the powerball. Shit you won't know how many family members you HAVE until you hit the powerball. All the needy will come crawling out of the wood work and every other god forsaken crack and crevice that you never saw. The branches of that family tree will start to stretch far and wide. And is promised to be full of fruit. Fruit that has only produced nuts. Lots and lots of NUTS.
I know, I know you were talking about your immediate family. Your parents. Children. Those closest to you. But you can help them now.
Don't have a savings account for your kids? Start one today. It is as good a time as any. Don't have the cash to spare. Start with pennies. Literally. PENNIES! For each day of the year put that many pennies in a jar. Day one 1 cent. Day 2 two cents. Day 3 three cents. you get the idea. By the end of the year you will have saved $667.95 Do this for 15 years you will have $10,019.25! And that is if you just keep it in a jar with absolutely no interest. I know not the millions you had in mind... but hey 10k is a nice amount to have in the bank on your 18th birthday. And a heck of down payment on a car... and what kid doesn't want a car for his birthday?! Seriously at that age its close enough to hitting the lottery and will make you feel like a million bucks that you could do it for them.
Wanna help your parents? They don't want your money. They want your time. And you don't have to hit the lottery to pay them a visit.
Vacation. Who says you can't go on vacaction?! Okay maybe you can't go all out on a trip the costs 30k. But if you pay off that debt and start saving your pennies you most certainly can. And a nice one at that.
Wanna donate to charity? You can do that today! While it would be awesome to turn around and donate a million dollars to every deserving charity... the truth is if we all collectively gave a small amount when we had it we would be doing a great deal of good. Most charities don't rely on a one time grand gesture. They thrive on the people that give their constant support. They need your time as much as they need your cash.
Anyway my point is... life is what you make it. Hitting the lottery... taking home the jack pot would be amazing. Life changing at that. But don't wait for that one in a 292 million chance to change your life.. for the better. Get yourself out of debt. Pay your mom a visit. Start putting pennies in a jar. Go on that vacation. Adopt a dog from a shelter. Volunteer your time at a local charity. Start living your billion dollar dreams today. Nothing is stopping you from making them a reality.
When you think of all the opportunities out there its kinda crazy that this one in a 292 million chance makes everyone pause. And dream. For most part the dreams I hear spoken out loud even by strangers were simple. Pay off my debt. Help my family. Go on vacation. Donate to charity.
While $1.5 billion would make all of these dreams a reality in the blink of an eye there is no reason to stop dreaming for the things most of us want are not that far out of reach.
Pay off debt. A stack of bills can seem insurmountable but they aren't. Stop waiting to win the lottery to live free of the financial burdens that are weighing you down.
1. Create a budget and stick to it.
I highly recommend deleting any shopping apps that you have on your smart phone. Amazon one click to buy. DANGEROUS. Zulily... get rid of it. Those flash sales are so tempting. But honestly do your research they are not quite the bargain they appear to be. GROUPON. Gone. Don't splurge on offers that seem to good to be true. They are. And you don't need the juice cleanse that is 65% off. It is still gonna taste like shit and sit in your freezer with all the other diet regrets you have. Trust me.
Eliminate the temptations and start living with in your means. Simplifying your life and spending is with in your power and easier than you think. You just have to commit to it and remind yourself you are not Carrie Bradshaw.
2. Pay off your credit cards. Start with the one that carries the highest balance and go from there. Always pay more than the minimum. Consolidate if you have to. Got a bonus from work? Put it towards your debt. Good tax return? Put it towards your debt. Cash from Christmas? Your Birthday? PUT IT TOWARDS YOUR DEBT! Ugh no fun! No... no fun at all! But neither is debt. When it is all paid off you will feel great and be able to reward yourself for all the fun you didn't partake in. Just don't put it on the damn card... Have I taught you nothing ?!
Help my family. Truth is you won't know how many family members you have in need until you hit the powerball. Shit you won't know how many family members you HAVE until you hit the powerball. All the needy will come crawling out of the wood work and every other god forsaken crack and crevice that you never saw. The branches of that family tree will start to stretch far and wide. And is promised to be full of fruit. Fruit that has only produced nuts. Lots and lots of NUTS.
I know, I know you were talking about your immediate family. Your parents. Children. Those closest to you. But you can help them now.
Don't have a savings account for your kids? Start one today. It is as good a time as any. Don't have the cash to spare. Start with pennies. Literally. PENNIES! For each day of the year put that many pennies in a jar. Day one 1 cent. Day 2 two cents. Day 3 three cents. you get the idea. By the end of the year you will have saved $667.95 Do this for 15 years you will have $10,019.25! And that is if you just keep it in a jar with absolutely no interest. I know not the millions you had in mind... but hey 10k is a nice amount to have in the bank on your 18th birthday. And a heck of down payment on a car... and what kid doesn't want a car for his birthday?! Seriously at that age its close enough to hitting the lottery and will make you feel like a million bucks that you could do it for them.
Wanna help your parents? They don't want your money. They want your time. And you don't have to hit the lottery to pay them a visit.
Vacation. Who says you can't go on vacaction?! Okay maybe you can't go all out on a trip the costs 30k. But if you pay off that debt and start saving your pennies you most certainly can. And a nice one at that.
Wanna donate to charity? You can do that today! While it would be awesome to turn around and donate a million dollars to every deserving charity... the truth is if we all collectively gave a small amount when we had it we would be doing a great deal of good. Most charities don't rely on a one time grand gesture. They thrive on the people that give their constant support. They need your time as much as they need your cash.
Anyway my point is... life is what you make it. Hitting the lottery... taking home the jack pot would be amazing. Life changing at that. But don't wait for that one in a 292 million chance to change your life.. for the better. Get yourself out of debt. Pay your mom a visit. Start putting pennies in a jar. Go on that vacation. Adopt a dog from a shelter. Volunteer your time at a local charity. Start living your billion dollar dreams today. Nothing is stopping you from making them a reality.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
New Year, New You... F%*@ YES!
To all the narcissistic Nancy's out there I will not let you rain on my resolution parade. I see your gym selfies, read your kale recipes, I get it... you have your shit together. You always have. I admire your resolve and the fact that you don't need a Monday or a New Year to get your skinny little ass in gear. You should be proud of the fact that you are fit. Organized. The same weight today that you were in your freshman year of high school. That a baby or age did not wreak absolute havoc on your body. I am happy for you. I really am. You deserve a cookie. A cookie that you won't eat. So I'll just keep my cookie (and most likely enjoy while you aren't looking)... but know the sentiment was there.
I get it too that your usually sparse fitness classes will now be filled with.. people like me. Over weight. Out of shape. Sweating before the 10 minute mark. I know your are hoping that you only have to look at my fat ass for the next month or so. Because that is typically how long New Year resolutions last. Quite honestly I hope to be standing next to you well after February 1st... of 2017 with a smaller ass.
I know that for you this is a way of life. It is a commitment you have made to yourself. Your family. And you live it. Breathe it. You own it. And I probably seem ridiculous... to you. Yes some of us come late to the table but it doesn't mean we have nothing to bring. So I am here to tell you... 2016 is going to be my bitch. New Year... New ME! Fuck YES!
And in all fairness I deserve a shot. I care about me too. And good lord do I wish that I had made a solid commitment to myself long before now... but I didn't. And no not because I am lazy. Or because I am a stay at home mom that has let herself go. No. I have just been really fucking busy... you know with life and making little humans. Turns out they are super needy and even an hour to hit the gym is a lot to ask.
Don't get me wrong I know that this is an uphill battle. And most people fail. Make the same resolution year after year and never get anywhere. But I am determined to make it work... make this year better than the last.
And to all those that are with me... all the ones that need a Monday or a New Year to get it together. I solute you. More importantly I support you. When you hit that rough patch in a month from now I will not say "told you so"... I will cheer you on. Lift you up. Remind you of why you started. I will encourage you to keep going. To always keep on going.
So stop mocking the New Year, New You people because quite honestly if you are... maybe you are the one that needs to reevaluate. Everyone can improve.. yes... even you Nancy... in your size 2 jeans.
Happy New Year! Have a resolution? Comment below I'd love to hear it
I get it too that your usually sparse fitness classes will now be filled with.. people like me. Over weight. Out of shape. Sweating before the 10 minute mark. I know your are hoping that you only have to look at my fat ass for the next month or so. Because that is typically how long New Year resolutions last. Quite honestly I hope to be standing next to you well after February 1st... of 2017 with a smaller ass.
I know that for you this is a way of life. It is a commitment you have made to yourself. Your family. And you live it. Breathe it. You own it. And I probably seem ridiculous... to you. Yes some of us come late to the table but it doesn't mean we have nothing to bring. So I am here to tell you... 2016 is going to be my bitch. New Year... New ME! Fuck YES!
And in all fairness I deserve a shot. I care about me too. And good lord do I wish that I had made a solid commitment to myself long before now... but I didn't. And no not because I am lazy. Or because I am a stay at home mom that has let herself go. No. I have just been really fucking busy... you know with life and making little humans. Turns out they are super needy and even an hour to hit the gym is a lot to ask.
Don't get me wrong I know that this is an uphill battle. And most people fail. Make the same resolution year after year and never get anywhere. But I am determined to make it work... make this year better than the last.
And to all those that are with me... all the ones that need a Monday or a New Year to get it together. I solute you. More importantly I support you. When you hit that rough patch in a month from now I will not say "told you so"... I will cheer you on. Lift you up. Remind you of why you started. I will encourage you to keep going. To always keep on going.
So stop mocking the New Year, New You people because quite honestly if you are... maybe you are the one that needs to reevaluate. Everyone can improve.. yes... even you Nancy... in your size 2 jeans.
Happy New Year! Have a resolution? Comment below I'd love to hear it
Monday, December 7, 2015
I am sorry that I am not your bestfriend
It is safe to that things rarely ever go as planned. Like they never go as planned. Or even close to the way I envision them. When we first met I had all these plans for me and you and all the things that we would do. The places we would go and the secrets we would share. Surely we would be best of friends.
And for awhile... years... it felt like we were. We talked night and day. Always had a good time together. I couldn't imagine that we ever wouldn't.
And don't get me wrong. There isn't anyone else that I would rather spend my time with. No one else that could fill your place. But I am sorry I am not your best friend.
You see I had the best intentions... for us... and this relationship but it just isn't working out.
I hope I will always be the person you confide in. I will keep every secret you ever tell me. And you wont ever have to worry that anything you say would go beyond the conversations we have.
I pray that when there is a new adventure you want to embark on I am the person you want to take along. I would go anywhere with you... for you. And I do mean anywhere.
When you need advice I will be here for you. With an open door and open arms. Don't ever hesitate to call me.
In years to come when you are reminiscing about the good ole' days I hope your fondest memories are the ones you made with me.
I will always be your biggest cheerleader. Your rock. Your shoulder to cry on. Your safe place. I just can't be your best friend.
And there will be moments when it is hard for me to remember that but I will have to because of all the things you need me to be... your friend is last on the list. At least for now.
The realization of this cuts like a knife and I know you cant understand it today but I hope someday you will.
I wish you knew how much I would like to say yes to every thing you ever ask for. I just can't. It would be so much easier and you would like me so much more.
I wish I did not have to teach you lessons and make you understand the things you would rather not know. Unfortunately it is my job.
I wish I could never hear the sound of your door slamming again, the words I hate you fall from your mouth, I wish I could turn a blind eye to the glaring look you give me at the dinner table when I won't let you have your way... but I can't.
I wish you knew how much it hurts. The end of this friendship. But the responsibilities I have because I am your mom far outweigh the desire I have to be your friend. Just know none of this changes my love for you. In 30 years from now when you have a family of your own you will know just how much love there was to choose the right thing over the easy one.
And for awhile... years... it felt like we were. We talked night and day. Always had a good time together. I couldn't imagine that we ever wouldn't.
And don't get me wrong. There isn't anyone else that I would rather spend my time with. No one else that could fill your place. But I am sorry I am not your best friend.
You see I had the best intentions... for us... and this relationship but it just isn't working out.
I hope I will always be the person you confide in. I will keep every secret you ever tell me. And you wont ever have to worry that anything you say would go beyond the conversations we have.
I pray that when there is a new adventure you want to embark on I am the person you want to take along. I would go anywhere with you... for you. And I do mean anywhere.
When you need advice I will be here for you. With an open door and open arms. Don't ever hesitate to call me.
In years to come when you are reminiscing about the good ole' days I hope your fondest memories are the ones you made with me.
I will always be your biggest cheerleader. Your rock. Your shoulder to cry on. Your safe place. I just can't be your best friend.
And there will be moments when it is hard for me to remember that but I will have to because of all the things you need me to be... your friend is last on the list. At least for now.
The realization of this cuts like a knife and I know you cant understand it today but I hope someday you will.
I wish you knew how much I would like to say yes to every thing you ever ask for. I just can't. It would be so much easier and you would like me so much more.
I wish I did not have to teach you lessons and make you understand the things you would rather not know. Unfortunately it is my job.
I wish I could never hear the sound of your door slamming again, the words I hate you fall from your mouth, I wish I could turn a blind eye to the glaring look you give me at the dinner table when I won't let you have your way... but I can't.
I wish you knew how much it hurts. The end of this friendship. But the responsibilities I have because I am your mom far outweigh the desire I have to be your friend. Just know none of this changes my love for you. In 30 years from now when you have a family of your own you will know just how much love there was to choose the right thing over the easy one.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
fat girl. not on a diet.
Yes you read that right. Fat girl ( that would be me). Not on a diet. Not currently anyway... because at one point or another I have been on all of them.
The first time I decided to diet was right before I got married. I was about 165 pounds. We started shopping for wedding dresses. For some this is the most fun and exciting time of their life. For me, it was torture! I was thrilled to be getting married and seriously head over heels in love. But wedding dress shopping felt more like an exercise in humiliation. All of the dresses at the stores were many sizes too small. MANY! Every dress I tried on had to be clipped closed in the back cause it didn't fit. There is no better feeling than walking out of a dressing room with all eyes on you... stuffed into a dress held to together by industrial size clips. Mind you at the time I was not a "big girl". Not skinny... but not big. I was a comfortable size 10.... which felt like a 20.
I finally found the dress of my dreams. I can still hear the little Filipino woman at the store saying "it's pretty dress... but you too big for that kind of dress". I decided after that I was not going to even think about a wedding dress until I was not too big for it.
I started weight watchers immediately. Weight watchers... aka... AA for over eaters. I exercised and counted points like my life depended on it. I shed 20 pounds fairly quickly. Then I got my wisdom teeth removed and could not eat solid food for some length of time... which totally helped with the dieting. Then I got the flu. Before I knew it I was 128 pounds and in a size 7. Success!
I was 128 pounds for like a whole day... well maybe two. After the wedding I went back up to 140 in no time. Which I was totally comfortable at.
Then my mother in law got sick. Diagnosed with lung cancer. This is when I discovered that I am an emotional eater. I took care of her for one year. Watched her wither away. And comforted myself with a generous portion (a pint) of Ben & Jerry's pretty much every night. I also ate McDonald's and whatever else I could grab on the way to the hospital. My mother in law passed away. And I had gained 50 pounds trying not to deal with it.
So here I am... at my heaviest weight. Nearly 200 pounds! And pregnant with my first baby. A combination that would send me into downward spiral as far as weight is concerned. I don't remember my exact weight... I have made a mental note not too, but it is safe to say I was well over 200 pounds when I gave birth to Aidan.
I lost some weight after I had him. Nothing significant. My recovery from his birth took a long time. I was overweight. Exhausted. And completely unmotivated. I had given up. I just didn't care anymore about my weight or at least that was what I told myself because I really didn't want to deal with how much I hated this new body I was living in. I still laugh to myself when I read these articles about women claiming to love their stretch marks and saggy skin. Yes I had a baby. Yes those are my battle wounds, tiger stripes, whatever the fuck you want to call them... I don't like them. If I was one of those women that miraculously came out of that nine months unscathed I would be perfectly happy. I mean I'd still have my broken vagina to show for all my hard work in bringing a human into the world... that's plenty in my opinion.
I went into my next pregnancy heavier than I did my first. Again I gained more than I should have and left the hospital with staples in my stomach, a baby in my arms, and a number on the scale that made me want to crawl in a hole and eat cake batter, alone, while I cried.
I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to pay a visit to Jenny Craig. I ate their over priced crappy frozen and boxed food for weeks... and lost weight. I stopped going to Jenny Craig and gained all the weight back immediately. Like in 24 hours. Kidding. But that is what it felt like.
I needed to gain control of the situation. I started a diet of Slim fast and salad and exercised religiously. From October 2011 to October 2012 I had lost 100 pounds! YES 100 pounds!
Then I got pregnant again. I managed to keep it together this time and not slip into the morbidly obese range. I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby boy who just turned 2. Would you believe it if I told you I weigh more now than the day I gave birth to an almost 10 pound baby... sadly that is the truth. Over the course of the last 2 years I have tried just about every beach body program there is. T25 (is awesome unless you have boobs and don't mind getting beat up by them! The amount of jumping that those workouts require is just unreasonable), P90 (yes just plain of P90 no X, cause lets face it if I am doing anything EXTREME its going to be weight loss surgery not a workout that could give me heart attack), PiYo (apparently I do not like Pilates or yoga... I like them even less when they are combined), the 21 day fix (I could never make it past day 7, if I had I imagine I would have been successful) ... I drank Shakeology and despite all of its claims to help me lose weight, reduce cravings blah blah blah... I could not lose the weight. Clearly those programs do work for people and can be a very successful tool... just not for me. I tried cutting out carbs to no avail. I went back to what had worked before. Good old slim fast and salad. How the fuck did I do that for an entire year?! I still do not know. What I did find is that I can not EVER do that again. I joined the rec center and made it to exactly 0 classes... because... well I have 3 kids and there is no good time to leave the house for an hour.
I was feeling hopeless. Then I came across the book "What Are You Hungry For?" by Deepak Chopra. I read the entire book in less than 2 days. What was I hungry for? What was I craving in life? Had I started to use food to fill some sort of void? Ummmmm yes. And so I started taking better care of myself. Restoring balance in my life which also included making time for myself which I had not been doing for nearly the last 8 years!
In the last few weeks I have managed to lose nearly 20 pounds! And this time... this fat girl is not on a diet! A diet to me represents some sort of deprivation. A set period of time that I will live miserably restricted in order to reach a goal. I do not need another diet. I do not want a quick fix. I can not live on a meal replacement program... I like food. I want to eat it.
So what is my secret? In truth I do not have one. If there are two things that I would recommend it is the book I mentioned above and getting a fit bit. Read the book for a little inspiration. A little soul searching is always a good thing. Find what you are hungry for... that has nothing to do with the food on your plate.
Over the last month I have been more mindful of what I put in my mouth. Am I really hungry or am I just bored? I ask myself do I really want this or is there something else I'd rather wait for? I use my fitbit to stay accountable... to myself!
In the book Deepak Chopra says something to the effect that your body is not a reflection of who you are... it tells the story of how it has been taken care.
For far too long my body has been telling the story of neglect. Not anymore.
The first time I decided to diet was right before I got married. I was about 165 pounds. We started shopping for wedding dresses. For some this is the most fun and exciting time of their life. For me, it was torture! I was thrilled to be getting married and seriously head over heels in love. But wedding dress shopping felt more like an exercise in humiliation. All of the dresses at the stores were many sizes too small. MANY! Every dress I tried on had to be clipped closed in the back cause it didn't fit. There is no better feeling than walking out of a dressing room with all eyes on you... stuffed into a dress held to together by industrial size clips. Mind you at the time I was not a "big girl". Not skinny... but not big. I was a comfortable size 10.... which felt like a 20.
I finally found the dress of my dreams. I can still hear the little Filipino woman at the store saying "it's pretty dress... but you too big for that kind of dress". I decided after that I was not going to even think about a wedding dress until I was not too big for it.
I started weight watchers immediately. Weight watchers... aka... AA for over eaters. I exercised and counted points like my life depended on it. I shed 20 pounds fairly quickly. Then I got my wisdom teeth removed and could not eat solid food for some length of time... which totally helped with the dieting. Then I got the flu. Before I knew it I was 128 pounds and in a size 7. Success!
I was 128 pounds for like a whole day... well maybe two. After the wedding I went back up to 140 in no time. Which I was totally comfortable at.
Then my mother in law got sick. Diagnosed with lung cancer. This is when I discovered that I am an emotional eater. I took care of her for one year. Watched her wither away. And comforted myself with a generous portion (a pint) of Ben & Jerry's pretty much every night. I also ate McDonald's and whatever else I could grab on the way to the hospital. My mother in law passed away. And I had gained 50 pounds trying not to deal with it.
So here I am... at my heaviest weight. Nearly 200 pounds! And pregnant with my first baby. A combination that would send me into downward spiral as far as weight is concerned. I don't remember my exact weight... I have made a mental note not too, but it is safe to say I was well over 200 pounds when I gave birth to Aidan.
I lost some weight after I had him. Nothing significant. My recovery from his birth took a long time. I was overweight. Exhausted. And completely unmotivated. I had given up. I just didn't care anymore about my weight or at least that was what I told myself because I really didn't want to deal with how much I hated this new body I was living in. I still laugh to myself when I read these articles about women claiming to love their stretch marks and saggy skin. Yes I had a baby. Yes those are my battle wounds, tiger stripes, whatever the fuck you want to call them... I don't like them. If I was one of those women that miraculously came out of that nine months unscathed I would be perfectly happy. I mean I'd still have my broken vagina to show for all my hard work in bringing a human into the world... that's plenty in my opinion.
I went into my next pregnancy heavier than I did my first. Again I gained more than I should have and left the hospital with staples in my stomach, a baby in my arms, and a number on the scale that made me want to crawl in a hole and eat cake batter, alone, while I cried.
I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to pay a visit to Jenny Craig. I ate their over priced crappy frozen and boxed food for weeks... and lost weight. I stopped going to Jenny Craig and gained all the weight back immediately. Like in 24 hours. Kidding. But that is what it felt like.
I needed to gain control of the situation. I started a diet of Slim fast and salad and exercised religiously. From October 2011 to October 2012 I had lost 100 pounds! YES 100 pounds!
Then I got pregnant again. I managed to keep it together this time and not slip into the morbidly obese range. I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby boy who just turned 2. Would you believe it if I told you I weigh more now than the day I gave birth to an almost 10 pound baby... sadly that is the truth. Over the course of the last 2 years I have tried just about every beach body program there is. T25 (is awesome unless you have boobs and don't mind getting beat up by them! The amount of jumping that those workouts require is just unreasonable), P90 (yes just plain of P90 no X, cause lets face it if I am doing anything EXTREME its going to be weight loss surgery not a workout that could give me heart attack), PiYo (apparently I do not like Pilates or yoga... I like them even less when they are combined), the 21 day fix (I could never make it past day 7, if I had I imagine I would have been successful) ... I drank Shakeology and despite all of its claims to help me lose weight, reduce cravings blah blah blah... I could not lose the weight. Clearly those programs do work for people and can be a very successful tool... just not for me. I tried cutting out carbs to no avail. I went back to what had worked before. Good old slim fast and salad. How the fuck did I do that for an entire year?! I still do not know. What I did find is that I can not EVER do that again. I joined the rec center and made it to exactly 0 classes... because... well I have 3 kids and there is no good time to leave the house for an hour.
I was feeling hopeless. Then I came across the book "What Are You Hungry For?" by Deepak Chopra. I read the entire book in less than 2 days. What was I hungry for? What was I craving in life? Had I started to use food to fill some sort of void? Ummmmm yes. And so I started taking better care of myself. Restoring balance in my life which also included making time for myself which I had not been doing for nearly the last 8 years!
In the last few weeks I have managed to lose nearly 20 pounds! And this time... this fat girl is not on a diet! A diet to me represents some sort of deprivation. A set period of time that I will live miserably restricted in order to reach a goal. I do not need another diet. I do not want a quick fix. I can not live on a meal replacement program... I like food. I want to eat it.
So what is my secret? In truth I do not have one. If there are two things that I would recommend it is the book I mentioned above and getting a fit bit. Read the book for a little inspiration. A little soul searching is always a good thing. Find what you are hungry for... that has nothing to do with the food on your plate.
Over the last month I have been more mindful of what I put in my mouth. Am I really hungry or am I just bored? I ask myself do I really want this or is there something else I'd rather wait for? I use my fitbit to stay accountable... to myself!
In the book Deepak Chopra says something to the effect that your body is not a reflection of who you are... it tells the story of how it has been taken care.
For far too long my body has been telling the story of neglect. Not anymore.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Rylan James
Your having ANOTHER baby!
ANOTHER BOY... well healthy is the important thing right?
Your done now... aren't you?
You my darling are not JUST ANOTHER baby. NOT JUST ANOTHER boy. Not the failed attempt in an effort to have a girl. You did not make me throw my hands up and say now I am done.
NO not another baby... another life changing, momentous decision. And never JUST A BABY. Because truthfully they are only a baby for such a short time. A blink. A time so brief it is here and gone before you can fully catch your breath and take in the fact that you... the little girl that played dress up, the one that dreamed of being an artist, grew up to be the woman that loved a man so deeply the only thing that seemed right was to multiply that love and make a family... I (we) made you. Not just another but the only one that was meant for us.
Another implies you could have been one of any... but your not. When I think of all of the things that had to come together... like stars colliding from light years away... I know that the miracle that is you was sent just for me. A little ball of fire that could not wait to leap into my arms and hold my heart.
Another boy. In my wildest dreams there is nothing that could make you more perfect. Your dreamy blue eyes would not be any more beautiful if they belonged to girl. The curls that hug your neck would not be any softer if I could put a pink bow in your hair. Your smile could not be any sweeter. My love for you would not change if your anatomy was any different.
Now that we have you... we are not done, we are complete. You have made my already full heart over flow. Having the privilege of watching you grow I see all you have added to my life, to this family. You are Aiden's little buddy, Seark's best friend, and Daddy's little helper. And to me... just like your brothers you are the air that I breathe. I watch you take on each little task with such determination and think to myself watch out world here he comes... but not yet. I want to keep you to myself as long as I can. My tiny tornado... a little whirlwind of mess, and noise, and far too many toys... and oh, so much joy.
Rylan James... your are one of the greatest loves of my life... and today we celebrate you! Happy 2nd Birthday Baby!
ANOTHER BOY... well healthy is the important thing right?
Your done now... aren't you?
You my darling are not JUST ANOTHER baby. NOT JUST ANOTHER boy. Not the failed attempt in an effort to have a girl. You did not make me throw my hands up and say now I am done.
NO not another baby... another life changing, momentous decision. And never JUST A BABY. Because truthfully they are only a baby for such a short time. A blink. A time so brief it is here and gone before you can fully catch your breath and take in the fact that you... the little girl that played dress up, the one that dreamed of being an artist, grew up to be the woman that loved a man so deeply the only thing that seemed right was to multiply that love and make a family... I (we) made you. Not just another but the only one that was meant for us.
Another implies you could have been one of any... but your not. When I think of all of the things that had to come together... like stars colliding from light years away... I know that the miracle that is you was sent just for me. A little ball of fire that could not wait to leap into my arms and hold my heart.
Another boy. In my wildest dreams there is nothing that could make you more perfect. Your dreamy blue eyes would not be any more beautiful if they belonged to girl. The curls that hug your neck would not be any softer if I could put a pink bow in your hair. Your smile could not be any sweeter. My love for you would not change if your anatomy was any different.
Now that we have you... we are not done, we are complete. You have made my already full heart over flow. Having the privilege of watching you grow I see all you have added to my life, to this family. You are Aiden's little buddy, Seark's best friend, and Daddy's little helper. And to me... just like your brothers you are the air that I breathe. I watch you take on each little task with such determination and think to myself watch out world here he comes... but not yet. I want to keep you to myself as long as I can. My tiny tornado... a little whirlwind of mess, and noise, and far too many toys... and oh, so much joy.
Rylan James... your are one of the greatest loves of my life... and today we celebrate you! Happy 2nd Birthday Baby!
Thursday, September 3, 2015
Life Expectancy
"Turtles have a life expectancy of 150 years." What's that mean mom?
It means that is how long you could expect a turtle to live.
Is that a long time? How do they know that?
It is a very long time. They know based on the life span of the average turtle.
Do dogs have a life expectancy?
Yes... but it depends on the breed. The size. How well the dog was taken care of.
So how long do you expect our dogs to live?
A long time... I hope.
Like 150 years?
Unfortunately no. Dogs don't live quite that long.
We walked the rest of the zoo and there was no more mention of life expectancy. Thankfully.
A day or two later Aidan asked if I remembered the day we found a dead baby turtle on the river walk. I did. He was so tiny. One of the smallest turtles I had ever seen. "Why didn't he live to be 150? I mean that is supposed to be how long they live right?"
I wanted to give him an honest answer. But not one that would scare him. Obviously he'd done a lot of thinking about this whole life expectancy thing.
Well sometimes things happen that are out of the ordinary. And life just doesn't go as expected. Lots of things factor into how long something will live. I don't know much about turtles. So I don't know what happened to him... but I remember he was up on the bridge and maybe he just couldn't get back to where he needed to be and went with out food and water for too long. Babies are fragile and need more care. I think he was just too little and wandered too far.
Do humans have a life expectancy too?
(My heart sank. Growing up sucks... in so many ways. And there is no good way to have a conversation about death with your little boy. )
Yes. They do. Every living thing does. Even trees and flowers. Something's are only here for a season. Or a few days... like a house fly. ( I was trying to deflect... it wasn't working)
How long do humans live?
It depends.
Well look it up. I want to know.
78.8 years is what google says.
What?! That can't be right! Turtles can live to 150... that's... that's... that's half the life of a turtle! And dad is already 40... and Pop Pop is 70! 78 years?! That's all we get?!
No. That's not all we get. Sometimes we get longer. Much longer like closer to 100. And we also get so much more than time. There is so much more to life than days on a calendar and minutes on a clock.
Like what?
Oh baby... so much I don't even know where to begin cause truthfully your gonna just have to experience it yourself. You have so much to learn. For that matter so do I. You know that hunger you feel right now... that desire to know more? Don't ever lose that. Always keep your mind open and your eyes sharp. There is truly something new to learn everyday as long as you are willing.
There are adventures out there with your name written all over them but you wont know what they are until they are right in front of you. And then you have to be willing to leap. Let faith (and common sense) guide you. Don't ever pass by the opportunity to expand your horizons. Spend your days exploring the world. Literally even if it is only the small space you occupy at that moment. Take it all in and commit it to memory.
There are so many firsts waiting to happen... your first dance. First kiss. Your first love... and no I am not just talking about relationships. Fall in love.... over and over. Everyday if you can with music, art, language, nature, science, God, and yourself. Find the things that spark a fire in you and run with them. Be passionate about all the things that make you fall in love. Love hard. And you will find if it is indeed love it will never leave you.
There will be extraordinary days... like milestone birthdays. Getting your license. Graduations. Your wedding day. Maybe even a day when you bring a child of your own into this world. And on those days it will feel as if time is standing still just for you... so you can soak up as much of that joy and excitement and love as your heart can possibly hold.
There will be ordinary days... where you do nothing more than catch up on some sleep, and order pizza just so you don't have to cook and clean (or get out of your pajamas)... enjoy those days too because living a full life can be exhausting.
There will be moments of intense joy and extreme sorrow... times where your heart will feel so full and others when you are running on fumes. Appreciate both. Know those feelings are a sign that you are doing something right.
Don't take for granted the simplest of things... the warmth of the sun on your skin, the cool crisp fall air, the sound of the ocean, the love put into a home made meal. Remember to stop. Breathe. And take it all in.
Be as present as you can be. Take advantage of every offer that comes your way. Follow your heart. Quiet your mind. Don't let anything stand between you and happiness. Live your life and don't worry about how long you can expect it to last... just make the most of it and I promise it will be enough.
It means that is how long you could expect a turtle to live.
Is that a long time? How do they know that?
It is a very long time. They know based on the life span of the average turtle.
Do dogs have a life expectancy?
Yes... but it depends on the breed. The size. How well the dog was taken care of.
So how long do you expect our dogs to live?
A long time... I hope.
Like 150 years?
Unfortunately no. Dogs don't live quite that long.
We walked the rest of the zoo and there was no more mention of life expectancy. Thankfully.
A day or two later Aidan asked if I remembered the day we found a dead baby turtle on the river walk. I did. He was so tiny. One of the smallest turtles I had ever seen. "Why didn't he live to be 150? I mean that is supposed to be how long they live right?"
I wanted to give him an honest answer. But not one that would scare him. Obviously he'd done a lot of thinking about this whole life expectancy thing.
Well sometimes things happen that are out of the ordinary. And life just doesn't go as expected. Lots of things factor into how long something will live. I don't know much about turtles. So I don't know what happened to him... but I remember he was up on the bridge and maybe he just couldn't get back to where he needed to be and went with out food and water for too long. Babies are fragile and need more care. I think he was just too little and wandered too far.
Do humans have a life expectancy too?
(My heart sank. Growing up sucks... in so many ways. And there is no good way to have a conversation about death with your little boy. )
Yes. They do. Every living thing does. Even trees and flowers. Something's are only here for a season. Or a few days... like a house fly. ( I was trying to deflect... it wasn't working)
How long do humans live?
It depends.
Well look it up. I want to know.
78.8 years is what google says.
What?! That can't be right! Turtles can live to 150... that's... that's... that's half the life of a turtle! And dad is already 40... and Pop Pop is 70! 78 years?! That's all we get?!
No. That's not all we get. Sometimes we get longer. Much longer like closer to 100. And we also get so much more than time. There is so much more to life than days on a calendar and minutes on a clock.
Like what?
Oh baby... so much I don't even know where to begin cause truthfully your gonna just have to experience it yourself. You have so much to learn. For that matter so do I. You know that hunger you feel right now... that desire to know more? Don't ever lose that. Always keep your mind open and your eyes sharp. There is truly something new to learn everyday as long as you are willing.
There are adventures out there with your name written all over them but you wont know what they are until they are right in front of you. And then you have to be willing to leap. Let faith (and common sense) guide you. Don't ever pass by the opportunity to expand your horizons. Spend your days exploring the world. Literally even if it is only the small space you occupy at that moment. Take it all in and commit it to memory.
There are so many firsts waiting to happen... your first dance. First kiss. Your first love... and no I am not just talking about relationships. Fall in love.... over and over. Everyday if you can with music, art, language, nature, science, God, and yourself. Find the things that spark a fire in you and run with them. Be passionate about all the things that make you fall in love. Love hard. And you will find if it is indeed love it will never leave you.
There will be extraordinary days... like milestone birthdays. Getting your license. Graduations. Your wedding day. Maybe even a day when you bring a child of your own into this world. And on those days it will feel as if time is standing still just for you... so you can soak up as much of that joy and excitement and love as your heart can possibly hold.
There will be ordinary days... where you do nothing more than catch up on some sleep, and order pizza just so you don't have to cook and clean (or get out of your pajamas)... enjoy those days too because living a full life can be exhausting.
There will be moments of intense joy and extreme sorrow... times where your heart will feel so full and others when you are running on fumes. Appreciate both. Know those feelings are a sign that you are doing something right.
Don't take for granted the simplest of things... the warmth of the sun on your skin, the cool crisp fall air, the sound of the ocean, the love put into a home made meal. Remember to stop. Breathe. And take it all in.
Be as present as you can be. Take advantage of every offer that comes your way. Follow your heart. Quiet your mind. Don't let anything stand between you and happiness. Live your life and don't worry about how long you can expect it to last... just make the most of it and I promise it will be enough.
Saturday, August 15, 2015
I am Cait... and so are you
I am Cait. When it comes down to it... we all are. We are all simply vessels trying to navigate our way through this journey of life. We are not all on the same path but we are all trying to get to the same place... a state of happiness. That state will look and feel different for everyone. Who am I to say what it should be for you.
I am Cait. Just another HUMAN BEING trying to live my best life. Even if no one else understands it. Approves of it. Or likes it. I am flawed. Complicated. And largely MISUNDERSTOOD. But I wont let any of that stop me from being the most authentic version of myself.
I am Cait. Someone who wants to be accepted and loved as I am.
I am Cait and I am not under the impression that putting on make up, wearing a designer dress, or walking in high heals makes me a woman... but I enjoy all of it... so I do it.
I am also fortunate because I was born in a body that feels right. What I see on the outside matches what I feel on the inside. I have not spent my life warring with myself over feelings that although undeniable are also not understandable. I have had the privilege of being comfortable in my own skin and not being scared to death of who I am.
What most people miss about Cait is that this is not who she decided to be at the age of 65. It is who she has been for 65 years and afraid to say so.
I am a woman. Not just based on the sum of my anatomical parts. It is who I am... the way I feel... at the very core of my being. I am a woman and although I know what that means for me I wont pretend to know what it means for anyone else.
Stop letting your fear of the different... and your quickness to judge deafen you. Let her voice be
the one that opens the doors to a new dialogue.... the message is not about courage....its about acceptance. When you hear that then you can begin to realize... in some small way we are all Cait.
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