Mirror, mirror……You got me.

I don’t know about you, but I have an interesting relationship with mirrors.  There are some days when we are best friends and those, of course, are the days when it tells me how thin, beautiful, kind and level-headed I am.  There are other days when all I want to do is hurt it.  I imagine doing something like throwing my hand into it or putting a sheet over it.

I’m realizing, lately, that the problem I have isn’t really with a reflective inanimate object.  To be honest, I would have preferred that problem to the one I actually have: the problem with myself.   I’m getting deep here – metaphorical and real mirrors, people.  Am I alone in this?

The worse my attitude is the less appealing my body appears to me.  It’s not something I ever thought to put together.  There are days when I wake up well rested-ish (I was going to say well rested, but that doesn’t really happen to parents), I have my coffee in hand and it’s drunk while still hot, my face is good and clear, my kids aren’t fighting and I get to work on time.  On those days, it’s a pretty good bet I’m going to feel and act great for most of the day.   Now, if my coffee spills, or my kids are stressing me out, or work has gotten away from me,  my attitude shifts and BAM; there goes everyone’s day.

It gets worse if my good fitting pants are in the wash and the only shirts I have left are loose and/or ratty. Those are the moments that I know the world is ending. Continue reading “Mirror, mirror……You got me.”

You might be a parent if…..

1.   Someone asks you if you know the name to that song, but all of your guesses involve Daniel Tiger or the ABCs.  Remember when you used to know the title of every song and artist on the radio?  Luckily you still know those songs.  Unluckily, they are no longer in vogue.  I get a lot of, “Who is that?  Never heard of them.”  The only new songs you know are sung by children and/or animals.  Fake animals.  You aren’t that far removed.  I hope. Continue reading “You might be a parent if…..”

It didn’t take long to become a failure.

At this point in my life I’m a pretty sarcastic person. I think I’m hilarious. Hysterical, even. A riot. See what I did there? I’m can also be seen as a cocky person, but it’s always sarcastically cocky. There are a few who think I’m sincerely cocky. A few who think I feel I’m better than most. There are a few who think I’m judgmental, probably because my sarcasm as viewed as something truthful instead of the joke it was intended to be.  Or maybe I do something else to offend them.  I really don’t know.

No matter what people are saying or thinking about me, it’s got nothing on what I feel for myself. We’re the hardest on ourselves, aren’t we?  If you’ve read my last post, you know how I’ve struggled with hatred toward myself.  I may not have said it explicitly, but the hatred was usually for me.  Even now, I find a lot of things about myself that I associate with failure. Like it’s just part of who I am – a failure. Continue reading “It didn’t take long to become a failure.”

Who I was is not who I am.

I want you to have an idea of where I come from mentally, so I’ll give you a (hopefully quick-ish) background on me.

Once Upon a Time……

JUST KIDDING. When I was younger I was pretty depressed.  I don’t know that it started off with a reason.  I was mad about my parents getting divorced, but really, so many people have divorced parents, and they didn’t all make the decisions I did.  I’m not saying it didn’t affect me, but I had a choice to make in it.  I chose to hate (for a while) my step-dad.  I don’t know that I’d call it easier (do you have any idea how much energy goes into actively hating or even despising someone??  A hint: a lot.), but it sure did give me an excuse to do and say the things I did.  I felt about the same for my step-mom.  I can’t even remember being mad at anything or anyone else that affected me except for guys.

I developed quicker than most girls in my grade, and boys picked up on that.  There were 3 instances that I can count were I was….violently pressured, sexually, with guys my age. That was in junior high. Continue reading “Who I was is not who I am.”

They were meant to be courageous….And so much more.

Did you know that today is a holiday?  Well, technically not.  Much like mother’s day, if I haven’t gone to sleep yet I’m counting it.  It’s even celebrated in 59 countries.  I know that because I looked it up on Wikipedia and everything on Wikipedia is 1000% truth. Continue reading “They were meant to be courageous….And so much more.”

Marriage is a work in progress.

Marriage is beautiful.  It’s rainbows and sunshine.  It’s simple.  It’s very cut and dry.  Getting married  automatically instills open communication in the two people getting married.  It causes the two people to be so changed as to become perfection in the relationship.  It’s angels singing and endless smiles.

I’m sorry.

Give me a minute.

Gotta control the laughter and catch my breath.

If these are lines anyone has every fed you, they are so very misguided.  Sure, those are all partial truths, but not complete truths.  Marriage is beautiful, but not for the reasons listed above.  Parts of it are simple (and cut and dry) but we are complex in nature, joining with another person is bound to be complex as well.  The open communication comes with hard work – a lot of hard work.  Marriage changes us, yes, but not always in the way that we think.  There are moments – so many moments – when it seems like everything is perfect and you swear you can hear angels singing, but those are moments to look for and try to attain.  They aren’t constant and they aren’t necessarily the norm. Continue reading “Marriage is a work in progress.”

Freedom! Sort of.

I am officially the mother of a preschool graduate.  I have a whole lot of emotions about this (sadness, pride, joy), but I think the one that stands out the most is excitement.  There are some parents that may dread summer break (maybe once my kids are older I’ll hit that point), but not me.  Summer break means not having to wake up at the crack of dawn to get my tired preschooler ready and out the door 20 minutes late.  Yeah, I said 20 minutes late.

Friday was a normal day off from school, but since my husband woke up with the girls, I’m counting it as day 1 of summer vacay.  Yes, vacay; this break is turning me into a tween.  I laid in bed until 11 AM.  11 AM, people!  It. Was. Glorious.    I have this beautiful vision of waking up at 10 every morning to the birds tweeting and my children singing love songs to me.  I felt so great getting up.  Then I realized how much my body hurt from the awkward position I laid in for so long.  But, hey, that’s not bad – I was in bed until 11 AM.  11 AM; if I stop saying it, it’ll become more like a dream. Continue reading “Freedom! Sort of.”

Motherhood is rose-ish.

Beauty.  Excitement.  Joy.  Inspiring.  Love – endless and incomprehensible.  Learning.  Changing.  Tears.  Overwhelming.  Fear.  Anxiety.  Sadness.  Hard.  Hardships.  Defeat.

My children are currently 4.5 (almost 5 – gasp!) and 1.5, and yet all of those words (and more) are words that I would use to describe motherhood.  I have had the privilege to experience every one of those emotions and/or bodily functions.  Maybe, since this is about motherhood, poo should have been mentioned up there somewhere; it’s not like we can ever get away from it.

When I see newly married couples in the afterglow of a fresh night’s sleep and basking in their unwavering attention and love for each other I feel two things: happy and jealous.  Happy because I remember those days, and I remember them fondly.  I wouldn’t begrudge anyone that feeling.  Jealous because I would really, really like a full night’s sleep.  The other stuff I still have.  I mean, that love and attention is buried a little, but I still have it.  What I don’t have is sleep.  I miss it.  When these couples ask about motherhood and say, “We just can’t wait to start a family,” I see that rosy hue to their eyes.  I remember how I thought it would be. Continue reading “Motherhood is rose-ish.”

That Mom.

Today, friends, I was that mom.  I was the mom that went through the store while her toddler screamed.  My preschooler calmly sat next to her minding her business, playing on the Nexus (hey, don’t judge – at least that one wasn’t screaming, right?).  Me?  What was I doing?  I had one hand on her while I laughed.  I suppose to the unknown observer it may have seemed callous; some of those “unknown” observers let me know what they thought of that.  She wasn’t screaming the whole time – I even had her laughing – but she wavered between joy and pure freak out.  Yeah, you know the one.

Walking into the store was a trial, but you know what we decided?  We decided that getting food into our sparse pantry/fridge was more important than causing a scene.  Sure, we could have turned around and left one adult at home with the tyrant toddler, but who wants to take that bullet?  I didn’t, I’ll tell you that right now.  That was actually the reason that we were out as a family.  My husband and I kept leaving the other alone with the girls and the cart to go grab something that we “forgot.”  I am thinking now that it wasn’t an accident. Continue reading “That Mom.”

Nobody’s fool

Apparently, today is April Fool’s day.  Am I the only person that never notices when that day is here?  What I do know is that it’s a Wednesday.  I know that we are exactly halfway through my 4 YO’s spring break.  As I slam my 10 oz of It Works greens (that I’ve had ready to go since I made my morning coffee) at 10 at night, as my 4 YO is still randomly shouting from her bed for me (while trying to convince me that she is, in fact, sleeping) and I have only gotten to page 97 of my book’s corrected proof, I find that it is both bitter and sweet.  It has been so nice to spend this time with her.  To share in some firsts with her and give her special treatment – what kid on vacation doesn’t want special treatments and activities?  Heck, I still want that when it’s the weekend.  *Hey, hun, can I go sleep over at Tiffany’s?  Her husband said it was okay!* *Followed by the most un-hide-able panicked face my husband has ever made.*  I miss all that time I got to spend with her before she started school.  It’s probably why I’m at her school so much.  I just miss her.

Along with all that sweet is the bitter.  All the work that I didn’t get done yet promised I would.  See, on St. Patrick’s day (it’s only fitting since I am Irish – among other things, but I don’t claim them very often, if ever) my mom and I officially became Tate Publishing’s newest authors.  I come from a food-oriented family and my mom is the best cook I know.  We decided to write a cookbook to fill our gluten free diet. I couldn’t write the cookbook without her.  We teamed up, and it took us 3.5 years to sign with a publishing company and an additional 6 months (so 4 years total) to get the manuscript into our publisher.  That happened in September.  We are currently in the final phase (of 5), approving the proof.

We got the second proof back on Friday.  Yeah, that Friday. Continue reading “Nobody’s fool”