I have read lots of literature and blog posts about loving myself regardless of my shape. I know I need to stop taking myself out of the picture until I lose those unwanted pounds. I know I need to teach myself to love my body so my kids can learn to not be so critical of theirs. THIS IS HARD!
I am a woman growing up in a society that places so much pressure on females to have unrealistic/unhealthy bodies.
When I look in the mirror, I only see that extra layer -- muffin top around my tummy. I only see the additional chin when I look at pictures of me smiling. I feel my jeans are just a little more snug than the last time I wore them -- although I blame that on the dryer. I feel my underarm jiggling for an eternity after I have finished waving goodbye. I see and feel all of these things (and more flaws) and I am disgusted.
One of the perks of having two beautiful girls is that they look adorable in whatever I put them in! Their little extra pudge or wild hair only adds to their cuteness. So when I am feeling yucky, I tend to overcompensate with their fluffy dresses and ruffled tights.
Easter Sunday I was feeling especially unattractive (I realize this is not what Easter Sunday is about so bear with me.) Tried on one dress and hated it. Put on a second and would have probably tried a third/fourth/fifth if I had time (hubby was already tapping his watch and pacing) and more dress options. Like every morning, I glanced in the mirror and saw only the flaws. I scowled and whisked our family into the car for church. The girls were dressed to the nines so I was assured no one would even notice me -- another perk of toting around cute kids.
As I sat in church and prayed that the kids would behave, Kate asked to snuggle. I picked her up and sat her fluffy dress on my lap and joined in the hymn. She grabbed my cheeks and looked me in the eyes. She gasped and said, "You're reawwy beautiful, Mom!" Oh! My divine intervention!
She doesn't just see flaws. She sees ME. She sees all of me and thinks I am beautiful.
Right there my prayer changed. I began to pray that I can see myself the way my girls see me. I am posting this because I know this is an uphill battle and I will need a reminder (probably daily) to focus on looking at myself through her eyes.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Sometimes God Takes Your Glue
Ever wonder why God takes some people out of our lives so young? It hardly seems fair. They were here such a short amount of time, how could they have accomplished everything they needed to on this earth?
My uncle (and Godfather) passed away a few years ago. Our family is still working through our great loss. It is amazing to me how losing him has affected each member of our extended family so deeply. I always knew he was an important person and loved him deeply, but I never had any idea that him being taken from us would make our lives unravel at the seams and spiral off into odd directions.
It has been a few years now since he passed and I have watched some other young souls leave our sides. I think I finally understand what God is up to:
Sometimes God has to take your glue. He has to take that person that helps you hold it all together -- "all" meaning hold your family together, your community together, your very existence together. He has to take your glue so that you can learn that no one person is made to do this. No human can hold things together for you. God takes your glue because He wants you to see that He is the only One that can hold things together for you.
This is my reminder today to let Him be the glue.
My uncle (and Godfather) passed away a few years ago. Our family is still working through our great loss. It is amazing to me how losing him has affected each member of our extended family so deeply. I always knew he was an important person and loved him deeply, but I never had any idea that him being taken from us would make our lives unravel at the seams and spiral off into odd directions.
It has been a few years now since he passed and I have watched some other young souls leave our sides. I think I finally understand what God is up to:
Sometimes God has to take your glue. He has to take that person that helps you hold it all together -- "all" meaning hold your family together, your community together, your very existence together. He has to take your glue so that you can learn that no one person is made to do this. No human can hold things together for you. God takes your glue because He wants you to see that He is the only One that can hold things together for you.
This is my reminder today to let Him be the glue.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Mom-vention #2
My girls love food so much that they feel the need to first exfoliate with it and then rub the food through their hair. The following foods are reserved for hair washing nights only:
*cottage cheese,
*ketchup,
*ranch dressing,
*soup,
*spaghetti,
*basically anything that has a sauce...
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Mom-vention #1
Worst recurring experience ever:
Driving with kids in the car after a long day of work. About to get on the hwy 441 death trap. Kate drops her Ga (giraffe lovey) and Neddy chucks her milk cup. Suddenly they both realize what they have done. They freak. They want them back. They start screaming, crying, whining "I need it!" on repeat.
I know my baby T-Rex arms will not reach the items they desire no matter how I twist and turn without taking both my eyes from the road. I panic because they won't stop.
I beg. I plead. I try to reason with them: "Mommy can't get them for you right now. She is driving!" They don't care. They just want their stuff! I explain further: "Mommy can't reach them. She could crash the car and you would get an owie-boo-boo!"
This is followed by a moment of silence.
A question: "Then I go doctor and get band-aids?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then commence the screaming, crying, whining "I need it" on repeat.
I begin to sweat through my winter coat. I turn the radio up so I can't hear them. They begin launching other items to get my attention. I briefly consider jerking the wheel and then I find our exit. It has only been 5 minutes but it feels like I have been to hell and back. At the stop light I twist into the back seat and grab the desired items.
Peace.
Silence.
I am breathing heavily like I have just been through a major trauma.
And we are home..
Solution: Mom-vention #1 -- A pet net of sorts going across the back seat floor to make it easier for me to retrieve dropped items.
Driving with kids in the car after a long day of work. About to get on the hwy 441 death trap. Kate drops her Ga (giraffe lovey) and Neddy chucks her milk cup. Suddenly they both realize what they have done. They freak. They want them back. They start screaming, crying, whining "I need it!" on repeat.
I know my baby T-Rex arms will not reach the items they desire no matter how I twist and turn without taking both my eyes from the road. I panic because they won't stop.
I beg. I plead. I try to reason with them: "Mommy can't get them for you right now. She is driving!" They don't care. They just want their stuff! I explain further: "Mommy can't reach them. She could crash the car and you would get an owie-boo-boo!"
This is followed by a moment of silence.
A question: "Then I go doctor and get band-aids?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then commence the screaming, crying, whining "I need it" on repeat.
I begin to sweat through my winter coat. I turn the radio up so I can't hear them. They begin launching other items to get my attention. I briefly consider jerking the wheel and then I find our exit. It has only been 5 minutes but it feels like I have been to hell and back. At the stop light I twist into the back seat and grab the desired items.
Peace.
Silence.
I am breathing heavily like I have just been through a major trauma.
And we are home..
Solution: Mom-vention #1 -- A pet net of sorts going across the back seat floor to make it easier for me to retrieve dropped items.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
TRY
I have been holding on to this post for awhile. I am not sure it is entirely constructive in my journey to change others' views on adoption and birthparents but nonetheless, I don't want to be one of those people that makes adoption seem like just happiness, rainbows, and unicorns. There are parts that make me truly frustrated, sad, in pain, and confused.
Way back when our journey started, I heard a comment from a birthmother. I heard it later on from another birthmother. I also heard it on MTV's 16 and Pregnant and I think even Teen Mom. When these young people were trying to decide what to do with their unexpected pregnancies, they made the comment, "I think I would like to TRY to parent this child." Did you see it? The word that gets under my skin each time I think about this phrase. It is the word 'try'. As a teacher, I didn't think I would ever find that word offensive, but in this instance, I hate it.
You don't TRY to parent. You either are one or you aren't. It isn't a pair of shoes that you walk around in for a day and then decide whether they fit you or not. It isn't like volleyball or basketball where you try out to see if you are good enough or if it fits into your social life. Choosing to parent means that you are taking full responsibility for another life. It means you never get to be first again. It means you never, ever get a break from being mom (or dad). Even when you aren't with your children you think about them, worry about them, every second of the day.
It took some deep reflection and a count to 100 to keep me from reaching over and slapping sense into these birthparents' heads. I realize now that these comments are due to either a lack in their ability to articulate their decision, a sign of immaturity, or a sign that motherly instincts are only beginning to kick-in, or a glimpse at a generation who is not passionate or fully committal to anything (sorry to this generation, it is just my observation).
Of course I can't let it go here because I need to reflect a little more to see if I am being unreasonable. One way I do this is by thinking about what response I would deem appropriate... If I can't think of one then I am being unreasonable.
Well...
I would expect nothing but fierceness when talking about parenting a child. I expect that motherly instinct to kick in full force with a "Damn it! I may not be very good at this, but no one is. I am going to parent the shit out of my kid!" Okay maybe not those exact words, but you get the point.
My young friends and family, when you are faced with a difficult decision such as this, make a decision and go all in. There are no half-sies here.
PS: If your problem is in finding the words to express yourself, feel free to borrow the above statement.
Way back when our journey started, I heard a comment from a birthmother. I heard it later on from another birthmother. I also heard it on MTV's 16 and Pregnant and I think even Teen Mom. When these young people were trying to decide what to do with their unexpected pregnancies, they made the comment, "I think I would like to TRY to parent this child." Did you see it? The word that gets under my skin each time I think about this phrase. It is the word 'try'. As a teacher, I didn't think I would ever find that word offensive, but in this instance, I hate it.
You don't TRY to parent. You either are one or you aren't. It isn't a pair of shoes that you walk around in for a day and then decide whether they fit you or not. It isn't like volleyball or basketball where you try out to see if you are good enough or if it fits into your social life. Choosing to parent means that you are taking full responsibility for another life. It means you never get to be first again. It means you never, ever get a break from being mom (or dad). Even when you aren't with your children you think about them, worry about them, every second of the day.
It took some deep reflection and a count to 100 to keep me from reaching over and slapping sense into these birthparents' heads. I realize now that these comments are due to either a lack in their ability to articulate their decision, a sign of immaturity, or a sign that motherly instincts are only beginning to kick-in, or a glimpse at a generation who is not passionate or fully committal to anything (sorry to this generation, it is just my observation).
Of course I can't let it go here because I need to reflect a little more to see if I am being unreasonable. One way I do this is by thinking about what response I would deem appropriate... If I can't think of one then I am being unreasonable.
Well...
I would expect nothing but fierceness when talking about parenting a child. I expect that motherly instinct to kick in full force with a "Damn it! I may not be very good at this, but no one is. I am going to parent the shit out of my kid!" Okay maybe not those exact words, but you get the point.
My young friends and family, when you are faced with a difficult decision such as this, make a decision and go all in. There are no half-sies here.
PS: If your problem is in finding the words to express yourself, feel free to borrow the above statement.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Singing Through Everyday Life
This Mom can only take so much Wheels on the Bus, Pat-a-Cake, and even holiday favorites like Jingle Bells. Sometimes "hits" from my past pop into my head -- most of these need to be transformed into an edited version before I can sing them in front of my children. So I edit them alright!
Songs I have re-written to be more functional in my Mommy-Life:
LMFAO Shots, Shots, Shots came to my head in a desperate moment when I was trying to get the girls out the door. They needed socks and shoes on but they were running in opposite directions and I couldn't catch them. So what comes to my head? I started singing: "Socks! Socks! Socks! Socks-Socks-Socks!"
Ludacris sings a song called Move B!@#$ Get Out the Way. This song comes in handy when we are running late in the morning. The new words (and Kate sings them on her own now) are "MOVE CARS GET OUT THE WAY! GET OUT THE WAY, CARS! GET OUT THE WAY!" Sometimes she adds, "Mama comin'!"
Call Me Maybe is sometimes used..."Hey! I just changed you! And this is crazy! You have poopy! Come here Baby!" I know. I have issues right?
My personal favorite: Taylor Swift's Mean. We don't have to change the words to this one at all! This is sung A LOT at our house because it always come to my head when the girls go in time-out. "Why ya gotta be so..." and Kate finishes it off with a smile and a "...MEAN!"
Now you have another look into my weird mind! Tell me someone else out there does this?!
Songs I have re-written to be more functional in my Mommy-Life:
(I wish I was more "techy" because I would just put the clips of the songs on here. But I am not, so these are the long versions. But you get the picture.)
It all started when I was trying to get PJs on at night and MC Hammer came to my head. Instead of "Stop! Hammer time!" I fired out, "Stop! Jamma Time!"
LMFAO Shots, Shots, Shots came to my head in a desperate moment when I was trying to get the girls out the door. They needed socks and shoes on but they were running in opposite directions and I couldn't catch them. So what comes to my head? I started singing: "Socks! Socks! Socks! Socks-Socks-Socks!"
Ludacris sings a song called Move B!@#$ Get Out the Way. This song comes in handy when we are running late in the morning. The new words (and Kate sings them on her own now) are "MOVE CARS GET OUT THE WAY! GET OUT THE WAY, CARS! GET OUT THE WAY!" Sometimes she adds, "Mama comin'!"
My personal favorite: Taylor Swift's Mean. We don't have to change the words to this one at all! This is sung A LOT at our house because it always come to my head when the girls go in time-out. "Why ya gotta be so..." and Kate finishes it off with a smile and a "...MEAN!"
Now you have another look into my weird mind! Tell me someone else out there does this?!
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Fly on the Wall
Kate is dancing around the living room in nothing but winter boots -- literally naked and wearing snow boots. I wonder what someone would think if they came to the door right now. For us, this is the uncomfortable norm of living with two toddlers. Others have said they would kill to be a "fly on the wall" of our home for one night.
So here it is. Your preview. A typical Sunday morning (just the morning because reading about a full day would exhaust you) in our life. Not too exciting, but always entertaining.
7:00
"Wake up Ned!" This is what you hear every morning. Kate wakes up first and yells to her sister. Weekend rule is that they don't get out of bed until 7:30 on the weekends. It is how we pretend to sleep in. They spend the next 30 minutes tossing toys from crib to crib, ripping the blinds off the windows, pounding on the wall, jumping on their mattresses, and singing versions of the ABCs and Twinkle Little Star.
7:30
I open the door to let the Reds escape. Someone always has poop in the morning...always. And the smell hits you like a brick wall the moment you open the door. At this point they have found some sort of paper product to shred and throw upon the floor -- wipes, a book, a magazine, etc. Kate goes potty and gets off the toilet before she is finished. This is why our bathroom always smells of urine.
7:45
Dad decides to attempt breakfast. This is never good and always requires a lot of support (but we have to let him try). As I am showing him how to pour the egg into the pan, I hear giggles from the bathroom...not good. Neddy is sitting in the sink (again), Kate has the water on (yes, Neddy's clothes are soaked), and both girls have decided to brush their teeth...with Neddy in the sink. I am so proud of them for having such good oral hygiene.
8:30
Today, Kate has decided that she no longer likes eggs. Or meat. Or cheese. She just likes ketchup. So she eats the ketchup and feeds the rest to the dog. Neddy has decided that her omelet makes a good hair conditioner (must be that protein). She also has poop...again.
9:00
The ketchup queen needs a bath and the omelet conditioner should be washed out. I start the bath. Kate throws her stuffed animal in the tub even though I have asked her (repeatedly) to not do that. Kate dumps a bucket of water over Neddy's head. Neddy cries, hits, and then spits in Kate's face. Kate tattles and repeat cycle. On this special day we had a first: Neddy pooped in the tub when I was drying Kate off. Kate saw the poop and said, "Oh! Nice circle Ned!" Yes, the poop was in a circular pile. I am so proud -- my girls are celebrating each other's successes and they know their shapes!
9:30
Kate tries to convince me that she doesn't need underwear or pull-ups. She wants to "wear nuffin." So the little nudist opts for winter boots and begins to dance in the living room to Ke$ha's Tic Toc. Daddy is uncomfortable and making comments about him really not wanting her to get used to dancing in the nude. Neddy spins in circles until I realize that she has poop...again. I go to change Neddy who flops all over the place. Seriously it is like trying to put a diaper on a fish and at the end the diaper is all kitty-wampus but it is on.
10:00
Both kids are in time-out. Kate hit Neddy in the face for looking at her. Neddy tried to bite me because I brushed her hair. Everybody has clothes on...finally but I am still trying to brush Kate's hair. She starts screaming "OWOOWWWOOO" before I even touch the brush to her hair. Gilbert is outside and body-slamming the back door. Brent is at the grocery store because I insist on having a Bloody Mary today to get me through the Packer game (don't worry, I have my jersey ready.) I tackle Kate to the couch and begin to brush her hair. Neddy is climbing the diaper changing table. I get her down. She spits and begins to climb again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Then she notices that Mom and Dad's bedroom door is open. She finds Mom's shoes. Bonus!
10:30
We tried to insert church into this space. It has not gone well. After we hit the old woman in the back of the head with a hard plastic bunny, we decided to do our prayer service from home until we get things under control.
Dad is back so I decide to shower. I lock the door. I try to relax and enjoy my alone time in the bathroom while both kids are crying and screaming outside the bathroom. "Mom! Mom! Momma! MMMMMAAAAMMMMAAAA! Mom. Mommy. Mama. MOM! I need come in!" I decide make-up is overrated. So are regular clothes so I put my jammy pants back on along with my Clay Matthews jersey. Kate takes the opportunity to use my deodorant as an art tool and draws on the wall with it. Neddy is jumping on the bed. Daddy is doing laundry. Gilbert is laying in the middle of the clean clothes. The girls realize Daddy is doing laundry so they make way for the laundry basket and the neatly folded piles of clothes.
It is snack time. Neddy is standing in the dog water dish with her shoes on and screaming "TREEEAT!"
11:00
Mommy guilt takes over and I feel sorry for my kids because I don't do any of the cool things that stay-at-home moms do. I decide to make up for it by doing an art project. Today we are going to make hand print turkeys. Everyone is excited for paint. I cut a shirt in half and put it on the girls for paint smocks. Things start off well because I start with Kate. We make 6 turkeys and then I let her "free-paint" (but she gets bored of paper and turns to the wall) while I help Neddy make turkeys. I remember why I hate doing art projects because they never turn out the way that I plan. Neddy smears paint all over her face, hair, wall, clothes, etc. but she is happy. Her turkey looks like a brown smudge. I clean them in the kitchen sink for the next 30 minutes. I realize that we have just done 30 minutes of clean-up for a 6 minute art project.
11:36
Kate wants a corn dog for lunch, not a hot dog. But she peels off all of the "bread" from the corn dog. Neddy eats an entire corn dog, a pile of green beans, a slice of cheese, and a cup of soy milk...and then poops again.
12:00
Kick-off for the Packer game. The moment of the day where Daddy becomes slightly useless. He can't see or hear anything other than Packers. Kate is trying to cheer with him so she just keeps screaming "Go Double D!" We are on defense. I decide to put Neddy down for her nap. Kate wants to use the iPod before nap. She tries to make things interesting by playing Peek-a-boo Barn with her nose. She is using her nose to tap the screen instead of her finger.
12:30
Nap time for Kate. I put her to bed with her puppies, Ga's, pillow pet, bear, 2 towels, 5 blankets, 1 quilt, etc. She screams "Luv you guys!" which is what Daddy says to the girls when he puts them to bed.
Now I sit with my Bloody Mary rehashing the morning for you. I am exhausted and I think I will take a nap so we can get up and repeat at 3:00.
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