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…..”
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.”
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 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.
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.”
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.”
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.”
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”
My 4 year old is having her very first spring break. At first I thought, “She’s 4, this time off from school won’t even phase her.” Honestly, I didn’t really think she’d notice. The unofficial day of spring break fell on a natural school free day – Friday. I had been fantasizing about that day all week. No waking up at 7 AM for a whole 10 days (turns out I wasn’t wrong there, it just didn’t happen the way I’d hoped), coffee can be had as soon as I get up and I’ll be able to drink it without interruption; it’s spring break – everyone, including the baby, is going to take the opportunity to sleep in and be well rested which will cause us all to relax and be nice and calm. On top of that, we’re going to get along so well that my 4 YO and I won’t fight or argue. She is just going to be so excited to be with me all day long that she will obey every rule and be perfectly behaved at every turn. I see the irony in that statement when I think of the last blog post I wrote. It’s not lost on me.
Turns out she did miss me. Missed me so much that she had an overwhelming urge to creep into my room, tapping me on the forehead whispering “mom,” in that non-quiet preschooler voice, until I woke up. “Mom, mom, MOM,” she loudly whispers. “Is it time to wake up yet?” I was disappointed at what I thought was being woken up at her typical 7:30; maybe it would take a couple of days to adjust to her sleep-in schedule. Bleary-eyed I looked over at the clock on my phone and saw that it was 5:25 AM. I’m sorry, 5:25 AM? I just wanted to shout, “Do you know how beautiful sleep is? How precious Spring Break is to school kids? 5:25???” Instead, I held back that irritation and said, “What? No! It’s 5:25 in the morning! Go back to sleep! This is just-I-it’s too early!” Okay, so maybe I didn’t hold back entirely, but c’mon! Continue reading “No vacations here.”
My goal is to make this more of an entertaining blog (heavy on my humiliation because there is certainly enough of that to go around) with a dose of encouragement and wisdom. I may humiliate myself often, but dang I’m smart.
I’m saying that to say that although this entry is a bit more on the serious side, I am not deviating from that entertainment completely. I am who I am and the jokes just can’t be shut off, folks. It also leans on the long-winded side. Again, I can’t shut it off. Glorious voice party of one? My hand is raised.
I happened to come across a newspaper at work today and read an article that………Well, to put it in the lightest term possible, it wrecked me. Wrecked me. And that is an understatement. I mean, man, I spent the better part of my day in tears. I know, I know – it’s my own fault for thinking that in these times there wouldn’t be devastation in any form of media. To be honest? I don’t watch the news. I don’t read the newspaper. I don’t listen to talk radio. Wait, I listen to Hannity if I happen to come across his show in the car – you know, when I’m going through a no reception zone, or when there is nothing but crap on the radio. Or when the radio is consumed with too much static even for me (FYI, that’s when I can only make out 1 of 10 words; drives my husband crazy……..And I think we just found the reason I listen to it that long.).
It’s not that I don’t care, and I can’t even really pinpoint the reason that I don’t watch/listen. If I see it, or hear it or have it near my hands, I’ll stop and pay attention. I don’t and won’t seek it, though. Maybe that’s a mistake. For me (call it a cop-out, call it lazy, call it genius – I’m easy), it can be too much. I don’t need more tears or more hurt or more pain. Have I suffered as much as those in the stories? As evidenced by the story I read today, not even close. But, I don’t use the same yard stick as everyone else. I use the yard stick that is in my own closet. The one that knows my name, not someone else’s. When I stop to pay attention, I am confident that it’s when and about what I need to. I have so many people in my life (my husband included) that do pay attention on a regular basis; that’s enough for me. Continue reading “Lighthouses”