Resolutions: Yes or No?

I've seen a few people on my Facebook page talking about New Year's resolutions.  It got me thinking: should I make one or should I make none?  In December of 2011, I wrote a note on Facebook (notes were all the rage at that time) about making what I called non-resolutions.  Here's what I wrote then:

Ok, I have been thinking a lot about resolutions and the ones everyone always makes.  Lose weight, stop smoking, exercise, blah, blah, blah.  I don't want to make resolutions I know I won't keep.  So here is my list of things that I am NOT going to do instead of things I say I will do and won't.  Hence, non-resolutions.  All the experts say to use positive language in your resolutions, but I am going to break that rule here today. 

1. I am NOT going to feel bad for enjoying food.  Yes, I will still watch my weight and eat healthy as much as I can, but little pleasures are good for everybody.  And, as my former Weight Watchers Leader told me, I can enjoy foods I like and still get to a healthy weight.
2. I am NOT going to feel like a bad mom for making decisions I think are best for my kids.  Or even making decisions I regret later.  My kids are not going to come to me in 30 years and say, "My life is in ruins because you didn't breastfeed me until I was a year old, made me eat my veggies, didn't bathe me everyday, and didn't give me a set bedtime."
3. I am NOT going to feel bad for having a less than hospital clean house.  I have 2 little kids and if I followed them around cleaning, I would never get anything else done.  It is ok if the floor is dirty, the dishes aren't always done before I go to bed and the laundry sits in baskets for a few days.  As one of my KLASS kiddos so eloquently put it, "My daddy said God made dirt so dirt don't hurt."
4. I am NOT going to feel bad for taking time out for myself.  If I don't, I may go crazy and go out with my pants on backwards or two different shoes on.
5. I am NOT going to be upset if things don't go as planned.  Life happens right?  So why not just go with the flow.  Human beings adapt well and it's good for us to have surprises in life.  Who cares if the surprise is Ben fingerpainting with his poop or Marc suddenly rolling into a dog drool spot?

So here they are!  My 2012 Non-Resolutions.  Anybody care to join me in the new year?

I think I did ok with most of them.  I have certainly been more accepting of life's surprises and my house is only clean for about 5 minutes before company shows up.  I still have to work on taking time out for myself, but I think every mom struggles with that to a certain extent.  And if you're a mom and you have that part figured out, will you please let the rest of us know how to do it?

What kinds of resolutions or non-resolutions do you want to make?  I firmly believe that when I wrote these two years ago, I had no idea if I would be able to do any of them.  I also know that when I wrote these, I was a tired mama with a 2 year old and a 6 month old and I knew there was no way I could realistically do any more than this.  In all honesty, don't make resolutions you know you won't keep or make the same ones you made last year.  Try something new, if you want to do resolutions.  It may lead you to a place you never expected.  And those adventures can be some of the best.

Where Did the Holiday Spirit Go?

Today I have a topic on my mind and I hesitate to write about it.  Not because I might make some enemies (which will probably happen), but because I'm ready to call out society on something that I think is a BIG issue.  Still with me?  Ok, here we go.

When I was a kid, I remember Christmas as an almost sacred experience.  I'm not talking about religion here, but the fact that everything shut down for Christmas Day.  With the exception of medical staff, emergency services, travel, and things like that, the whole world seemed to stop that day.  People weren't running around on Christmas Eve buying last minute presents or trying to get good deals.  If they did go out, it was to make sure they had everything they needed before stores closed up shop for the holiday.  Nobody would even think about touching Christmas Day; it was too important.

I'm not that old, either.  I'm almost 30, but that kind of mentality was there (so don't go thinking that I'm referring to the "good old days" from the 1950's because I'm not).  Why am I talking about this now?  Because I just found out that my husband has to work on Christmas Day.  Now, if he were a police officer, a firefighter, a doctor, or something like that, I would be ok with it.  That's a part of the job that people in those professions (among others) take on.  But he isn't any of those things.  Know what he does?  He's a SERVER.  In a restaurant.

Let that sink in for a minute.  He is going to be waiting tables for 12 hours on Christmas Day because the place he works for decided to be open (they were open on Thanksgiving Day as well).  They also decided that everyone who works on Christmas works a double shift, open to close.  Which means we are going to rearrange Christmas for our 2 boys, who are now 2 and 4.  They won't know because neither of them can read a calendar.  If we tell them it's Christmas, they will think it's Christmas.  But that isn't the point here.  The point is that we have to do it at all.

More and more places have started staying open at times that I think are ridiculous.  It started with small holidays: Memorial Day and Labor Day, things like that.  Then it started spreading.  Now stores are open on Thanksgiving Day for Black "Friday" specials.  To be fair, I have been Black Friday shopping a handful of times, but I always went as a personal favor to my sister.  And I have not, and will not, go out on Thanksgiving.  EVER.  Want to know why?  Because it's not fair to the people who have to sacrifice their holiday to deal with people who are ready to beat each other up to save a few bucks.  I worked Toys R Us on a Black Friday when I was in high school; it was one of the worst days of my life.  And people die on Black Friday, folks.  Want to explain to your kids that someone you love DIED to try to save money?  That is not a conversation I want to have or be the subject of.

Our society is forgetting how magical Christmas should be.  We are forgetting that it shouldn't be about presents (I mean really, who gives a car with a huge red bow on it as a gift?  Here, I bought you a present and you'll be making monthly payments on it for the 5 years!).  It should be about family, friends, and creating memories.  I am trying to prepare myself to raise my boys in a society that is slowly and surely loosing its grasp on what is important.  How am I going to explain that to them?  I don't have a clue.  But as long as they live in my house, they will understand that our family comes first and Christmas is a day that should serve as a reminder of that.  Every holiday should be a reminder of that.

If we, as a society, forget what should be important, what else is going to suffer?  Some companies are already paying employees extra for NOT using their vacation days.  Leisure time is starting to increase for Americans but we are still way behind other countries.   Just Google "how many weeks of vacation do Europeans get?" and start reading.  I think you'll be surprised. 

For those of you who think my husband and I are selling out because, yes, he is going to go to work on Christmas Day, think again.  We discussed the possibility of him just not going.  But the place he works for recently brought the hammer down and if he doesn't show, he runs the risk of getting fired.  And right now, we simply cannot take that risk.  Isn't that what happens to a lot of people?  People get sucked in to a job and then can't get out.  But it isn't just people working crummy jobs, there is a demand, too.  Stores are opening earlier around Thanksgiving because that's what people "want" and people show up.  At the risk of sounding harsh, if you shopped at a store on Thanksgiving Day, you are part of the problem.

So how do we fix it?  I don't have a good answer for that.  I can tell you what we are doing.  First, we shop for our kids throughout the year.  We watch sales in the paper and online, we browse the clearance aisles as stores, and we sign up for emails to places that advertise good deals.  For example, we got an Angry Birds bike, already assembled, for our oldest son for Christmas for $25.  It was the floor model from Wal-Mart.  If we wouldn't have been looking, we probably wouldn't have found it.  Second, by shopping this way, it is much easier on our budget.  Instead of trying to spend several hundred dollars at once or making said money stretch as far as possible, we are able to absorb the cost over the course of the year.  Third, in our house, we do not go out on holidays.  We plan ahead and make sure we have everything we need beforehand.  And if we forget something, too bad so sad.  We do without.  This year it meant I didn't get stuffing on Thanksgiving because we forgot the bacon in my great-grandmother's recipe.  So I'll be making it for Christmas instead.  Guess what?  I survived.  And lastly, we make sure our kids understand how important family is.  We don't really talk about it at their age, but we show it.  We spend time together and do fun things to create memories with each other.  And THAT, is the most important thing.

Ok, I think my rant is over. 

The "Truth" About Santa Claus

I have been seeing things on Facebook during this holiday season that are starting to get on my nerves.  The biggest one is that some parents are putting down other parents for "lying" to their children.  About what, you ask?  SANTA CLAUS.  Are you kidding me?  I take offense to this because my boys do believe in Santa Claus and as far as I'm concerned, I will do whatever it takes to let them believe as long I can.

I believed in Santa growing up.  I have some amazing and fantastic memories of things Santa did.  And none of those memories, NONE OF THEM, ever changed even when I stopped believing in Santa Claus as a single person.  As an adult, I do still believe in Santa, but in a different way.  Those people who go around paying lay-aways that are about to be cancelled?  That's Santa.  The people who put thousands of dollars or rare coins in the Salvation Army pots?  That's Santa.  All of the people who donated money and toys to non-profits?  That's Santa.  Santa DOES exists, if you choose to believe in him.

The people who say I am lying to my children, in my opinion, are wrong.  When they are old enough to start asking questions, I will tell them that Santa is not the person they thought he was.  But I will also show them how to be Santa for others.  I seriously doubt there are children out there who are permanently scarred for life because they found out the truth about Santa Claus.  And if there are, there is probably more to the story.

Will I "lie" to my children about the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, and Fred (our Elf on the Shelf)?  Absolutely.  Because childhood is a magical time and place; it only happens once.  I feel like it is my job as a parent to make it as special and as magical as possible.  It will grow their minds and their imaginations.  It will teach them how to dream and how to have fun.  Will they be disappointed when they no longer believe with that childlike faith?  I'm sure they will.  But they will ALWAYS have the memories I helped create for them.  Nothing can take that away from them.

The people who say I am teaching my children to be dishonest, in my opinion, are again wrong.  Santa taught me how to give without expecting anything in return.  Think about it: Santa flies all over the world to give gifts to good children.  What does he ask for in return?  NOTHING.  Sure, he gets cookies and milk, but not every family can do that.  Does he punish families that don't leave him food?  Of course not.  He gives out of the goodness of his heart, because he loves you.  Is that a bad thing to teach my children?  I don't think so.  I would hope they learn to be generous to people who are less fortunate.  My boys won't remember the Christmas that we only had toys because they were donated to us.  I was laid off of work while pregnant and all our savings was spent on survival.  People I don't know, I will never know, made donations to local organizations to help families like us.  If I can teach my boys to do the same once they are old enough, then sure, I will "lie" about Santa Claus.

Just to be clear, I am not condemning any parent for his or her choices.  Every parent is free to teach their children what they want.  Just don't tell me I am damaging MY children for allowing them to believe in Santa Claus.  And deep down, don't we all want to believe?

Chase Your Dreams

So, I just finished my first semester as a doctoral student.  I don't have my grades back yet, but I am sort of freaking out that I'm going to be getting at least one B.  I'm not used to getting B's, I get A's, that's why I'm in a doctoral program.  Other than the fact that I am a big nerd and I love this stuff.  As I have been trying to accept this, I came to a few realizations and have been focusing on what I did accomplish.

I DID read 161 articles, books, book chapters, and other readings for my classes and the work I was doing.  HOLY COW.  Seeing it in numbers makes it seem ridiculous.  But, I DID IT.  I did it with 2 kids and I did it all on time.

I DID all of my assignments, turned them in on time, and I never asked for special treatment or an extension because of my kids.  That included weekly summaries, 2 term papers, a book review, and 4 problem sets for statistics.  I made time for all of my work, even if it meant drinking a huge amount of coffee to combat my lack of sleep.

I DID tuck my kids in to bed every night and read them stories.  I was always here to say good night.  That's a big deal for me.  I've always wanted to make sure that happened, and it has been accomplished.

I DID survive an enormous amount of health/behavior issues with my kids.  The first weekend after classes started, my youngest son had to spend the night in the hospital for croup.  My oldest son has been diagnosed with a lazy eye and has to wear a patch and glasses.  To find this out, it meant driving over an hour into Houston to see a specialist.  My youngest son became a biter at daycare because he was frustrated.  He was evaluated and found to have a communication delay, which now means therapy twice a month.  We've had wellness checks at the doctor for both of them.  We are working on seeing an audiologist for my youngest son to make sure his hearing is not impacting his speech.  But I was there for every appointment.

I am not telling you all of this to brag (OK, maybe a little).  I am trying to make a point.  I did all of this because it was what I wanted. I want to be a good mom, and I am.  I want to be a student, and I am.  I want to earn my PhD, and I am.  I am doing what I love, doing what I want and because of that, I am making it work.  Everyone should be fortunate enough to be able to do that.  If you are not following your dreams because you are scared, don't be.  If you are worried about being able to do it all, don't be.  If you are afraid it will take you away from your children, don't be.  If it is truly what you want, you can make it work.  It will be hard.  It will be tiring.  It will be stressful.  At times, you will want to give up. DON'T.  At times, you will doubt yourself.  DON'T.

You will be so glad you did.  Trust me.

A Reflection of Marriage

Today my husband and I are celebrating 8 years of marriage. We have been a couple for a total of 12 years. In that time, we have learned some valuable lessons. I feel the need to share them, even if nobody asked. Take what works for you and leave the rest. And if none of it works for you, that's ok too.

Lesson #1: We are a fairly unconventional couple. We pretty much do what we want, when we want. For example, in 2007 we took a road trip for vacation. We did not plan it, we did not book anything ahead of time. We packed up the truck and started driving. It was the best vacation ever, besides our honeymoon. We also decided when we wanted to start a family and just went for it. When I found out I was pregnant with our oldest son, I was still writing my thesis for my Master's degree. Didn't matter to us. I became pregnant with our younger son when the oldest was 9 months old. Again, didn't matter to us. It was what we wanted and we are still happy with our decisions.

Lesson #2: We are not perfect. We are not a perfect couple, nor are we perfect individuals. We have made mistakes together and on our own. But we have learned from them, which is very important. I think some people go into a marriage thinking that everything will be rosy and wonderful. But that's like promising yourself you are going to go to the gym every single day. It is an unrealistic expectation and then you give up because you couldn't do it perfectly. Well, I've got news for you. Marriage is far from perfect. Couples will fight. Couples will go to bed angry (which is ok to do, by the way). But don't throw your marriage away because you are going through a rough patch. Every couple has them. The best couples are the ones who fought through it.

Lesson #3: We are not traditional parents. Of course we want to teach our boys traditional values. That's not what I'm talking about. And I also don't mean that we belong to some strange religion or follow some weird diet. Our boys are SUPER energetic which means we often have to be creative in getting their energy out. For example, when our oldest son started yelling in the house, the traditional "inside/outside voice" talk did nothing. I was getting so frustrated that I finally started letting him stand on the front stoop and scream as much as he wanted until he said he was done. Problem solved. May have ticked off our neighbors, though.

Lesson #4: I may get some flack for this, but we don't say "I love you" all the time. I had someone ask me about it once. I was on they phone with my husband and we said goodbye without saying "I love you." He asked me why we didn't do that. Here's the deal. We talk all day, every day. We don't say it all the time because we save it. It still really means something when we say it. I think if we said it all the time, it wouldn't mean as much. I've had people say, "What if something happened and you didn't tell him you loved him the last time you talked to him?" I would be ok. I know he loves me and he knows I love him. Our act of talking throughout the day says it. We have several "looks" we give each other that say it. His tone of voice will say it. Our actions say it. It doesn't always have to be in words.

Every marriage is different and every couple is different. People today have to find what works for them even if the rest of the world disagrees. I think people don't take marriage seriously, either. My husband and I took our vows to heart. We have never had a divorce talk. That has never been an option. We've done counseling when we had problems we couldn't seem to work out together. It was like having a mediator and it was very helpful.

As we close in on 10 years, I'm sure we have a lot more to learn. We will encounter things we don't know how to handle. We will make more mistakes, together and separately. But that is life. That is marriage. And that's how we roll.

Conquering Fear

As I look at the title of this post, I think anyone reading this might think that I am going to write about one of my sons conquering a fear and how proud I am. Well, I'm not. I conquered one of my own fears. It's been a long time since I had a fear that I needed to get over and I'm very happy this one came when it did. I didn't realize how much it was holding me back.

I used to take my oldest son out by myself all the time. I thought it was pretty easy. When my youngest son came along, I became terrified about going out with both boys by myself. At first it was because I had an 18 month old and a newborn that I was breastfeeding. What if I had to feed the little one? What would I do with the older one? What if he ran off while I was feeding the little one? It was easier to just stay home.

As the boys got older, I did ok a few times. Mostly it was a quick trip to Wal-Mart and the little one could stay in his car seat (most of the time the car ride put him to sleep). The older one would ride in the front of the cart and jabber. That was ok. But once the younger one didn't want to stay in his car seat, it became more difficult. So I decided it was easier to stay home again.

Now they are 2 and 3 (almost 4). They can both walk and run. I was still worried about taking them somewhere by myself, especially since we moved to Texas. There is SO much more traffic and I have been afraid of one of them running away from me on to the highway. But last night, I didn't have much of an option. My husband called me shortly after he left for work to tell me he had forgotten something. He didn't have time to turn around for it and asked me if I could just meet him at his work with it. Of course I would. I got the boys into the van and we headed out. We were about halfway there when I realized what time it was. It was dinner time.

Ok, no big deal. I could drop off what my husband needed and then we could drive-thru McDonald's and take it home (again, easier than taking them into the restaurant by myself). I then started to realize that I was on the road at 6:00 on a Friday night. Traffic was horrible. To get to our house, there is only one street in and out so EVERYONE has to go the same way. It can take us 45 minutes to go 7 miles. I realized that if we tried to take food home, it would be cold and gross by the time we got home. Think, think, think.......

I stopped for my husband and realized that there was a Sonic close. Ok, that would work. We could eat in the van and I thought the boys would think it was neat that they bring the food to the car. When we pulled in, my oldest said he wanted to go inside. I told him they didn't have an inside (lucky for me). He points out the window and asks about the picnic tables. Oh my goodness. Picnic tables less than 50 yards from the highway. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. I asked him if he wanted to eat in the van. Of course he said no. Now I was at a crossroad.

What did I decide? I decided to suck it up. I knew that if we sat and ate, we would miss quite a bit of traffic and it would be easier to get home. But my heart was going a mile a minute while I explained to my oldest that he had to stay right with me and could not run off. He said he understood and he took my hand while I carried my younger son to the tables. I have a huge purse so all of our food fit inside. We sat down and I started eating as fast as I could so that we could leave as soon as possible. I was looking at every minute as a possible problem; the longer we sat the more likely it was that something bad was going to happen.

And then something happened. Well, actually, nothing happened. That's the point. NOTHING HAPPENED. I started to relax a little bit as we ate. And you know what? We had a great time! We ate our burgers and laughed. We danced to the music being piped through the speakers. And nothing happened. Once we did get back to the car, my oldest told me he had a lot of fun and asked if we could do it again sometime. That made my night.

As I reflect on last night, I realize that my fear was not about taking the boys out by myself as I originally thought it was. My fear was about doing something that is hard. Have you ever avoided a challenge because you weren't sure you would measure up? Have you ever stayed home with your kids because it's easier than getting out in public with them? Have you ever avoided starting something new because it sounded too hard or you didn't want to put in the effort? I think a lot of mom's have something they avoid because it's hard. Well guess what? It's not as hard as you think it is.

Part of the reason it took so long for me to pursue my PhD is because I knew it would be hard. And I was afraid I wouldn't measure up once I got here. Did you know they have a name for it? It's called Imposter Syndrome. Graduate students often feel as though everyone else has it all together and they are the only ones who are struggling. They feel like it's only a matter of time before someone comes to them and tells them, "We made a mistake letting you in. You need to leave now." I think this applies to a lot of things. We know what we are capable of as mothers, wives, employees, volunteers, etc. But we often doubt ourselves when we face adversity because we worry that we are the only ones who find it hard. I can guarantee you that you are not the only one struggling with whatever you are struggling with right now.

I'm not saying it's not hard because chances are it is. But we build these things up in our minds and think about the worst possible outcome instead of the best. We worry about what will go wrong instead of focusing on what will go right. And as soon as something validates our fears or concerns we think, "That's why I didn't want to do it." What if we all agreed to at least give it a try?

What a Mommy Thinks About All Day

This post is being written mostly on very little sleep, a lot of caffeine, and some adrenaline. I say this so you can understand the rant that is to come. And because it may not make as much sense as I think it will.

I had a conversation today with a friend of mine that got under my skin a little bit. She invited my hubby and me out somewhere and my first question was, "When?" I needed to know what day to know if hubby had to work. It was a Saturday. My next question was, "What time?" I needed to know if it was during naptime or not. It was 3:00 at a place an hours drive away. I started doing math in my head. We would have to leave by 1:30 to get there on time and park. That's the middle of naptime. Unless we hire a sitter, that won't work.

I told her that. As she did an online search for sitters in the area, I told her I had already done that. As she realized a sitter was between $10-$11 an hour, I started explaining it to her. If hubby and I want a date (which for us is dinner and a movie), we are talking about at least $50 to the sitter, plus dinner, plus the movie tickets, plus gas. We are looking at at least $100. We don't have that right now.

Here's the thing. For any of you who are reading this and don't have kids, I'm telling you from all of the parents out there: you just don't understand.

I can't have a date night with my hubby without at least a few weeks of planning. Not to mention finding a sitter we would trust. We would need to have that person come over a few times so the boys could get used to him or her before we would be comfortable actually leaving.

I can't just take a break if I'm feeling overwhelmed or stressed out. Especially if my hubby is working and I have the boys by myself. I can't take a "mommy" timeout; they will follow me. Or come find me. Or yell at me from across the house. Or all of the above.

I get so worn out, I don't always have the energy to take a shower every single day. I don't get to take relaxing baths very often because I always think I hear one of them calling for me. I don't have the energy to keep my house clean, vacuumed, and dusted 24/7. Hell, I don't even know where my shoes are half the time because one got hidden. My youngest son actually chewed to glitter off of one my shoes. And yes, I still wear them.

I don't have time to plan meals. It's usually 5:00 and I am scrounging through the fridge trying to find a few things I can mix together to be considered a balanced meal. And then I worry about what they are eating, thinking that I should have put more into the meal.

I don't get to go to bed when I'm tired. I go when I'm utterly exhausted or my body shuts down on me. After the boys are asleep, I feel like I have to divide my time between my homework and whatever housework has been neglected the most. I am up until at least midnight most nights. And I am usually up before 7. I depend very heavily on coffee in the morning.

Now before you folks without kids start saying things like, "You made the choice to have kids" or "You didn't have to go back to school" know one more thing: you're right. My hubby and I made an informed decision to plan our family. I chose to go back to school for my doctorate so I can provide for my family doing something that I love. I am setting the example of chasing a dream so my sons will hopefully grow up to do the same.

I am not looking for sympathy. I am not looking for pity. I want you to understand me. Every time you see me, I am wrestling with feelings of guilt because my boys are in daycare and not with me. I am wrestling with every act of discipline I have used, worried that in 20 years they will be telling their therapist what a terrible mom they have. I am worried about whether or not they fit in, whether they are making friends. I wonder if they ever think about me. I often have to force my brain to focus on the task at hand, and then I feel bad when I realize I didn't think about them all day.

I deal with all that and more that I can't put into words. And I am still getting all of my work done. I don't have 12 hours to spend a whole day getting things done. I get naptime and after they go to bed. But I am still getting it done. I feel like I am barely treading water, but I am still making it. Barely, but I am.

When you see me, or any other parent, try to be understanding. Remember the struggle we all engage in. Know that we want to tell you about our kids because we miss them and wish we were with them. Be patient with us when we get emotional or pissy for no apparent reason. There is a reason: we are trying but feel like we are failing miserably.

I think most parents have a baby and have all of these utopian ideas about how life will be. Nobody tells you that you will get peed on, pooped on, thrown up on, spit on (or at, as my oldest likes to do these days), cursed at, hit, punched, kicked, bit, head-butted, yelled at, pinched, and more. Nobody tells you about when your child will throw things, break things, color on things, destroy things, terrorize your pets, terrorize each other, or tell you they hate you. All done by a little creature you made that you love with all of your heart. It's SO hard. But we all do it out of love.

So please, non-parents out there, just be understanding. You'll get to our place someday and wish for the same. Trust me.

Super Mom!

I am about to start my 4th week as a doctoral student. I had a realization today that I am so grateful for having now. This is one lightbulb I needed the light from.

I have been sick for about a week and I have been trying to force getting ahead on my homework. I started feeling bad when some of the girls in my class began discussing an assignment they had already completed. I felt bad because I was still working on it. Immediately, that little monster in the back of my head started talking to me. You know the one.

You're not done and everyone else is.

You're falling behind.

You won't make it.

You'll never finish.

You'll never graduate.

Ridiculous to let one assignment start all that, right? I think most, if not all, women go through this at some point. It doesn't matter how good you look, how smart you are, how much money you make, there is always someone out there doing better than you. But instead of focusing on what we have done, how good we look, or how smart we are, we get stuck on the one who is better. And I was about to get sucked in. Until I decided to do something.

SHUT UP. I don't need to hear this right now.

That's right, I told my little monster where to stick it. I had the realization that it doesn't matter how fast I get assignments done as long as I get them done by the deadline. I am the only person in my cohort that is married with 2 kids. So you know what? The fact that I am getting it done at all is pretty damn impressive.

I want to take a tangent here for a minute. I also get tired of other people assuming that my kids are a distraction. For anyone who has kids, kids are an incredible motivator. Sure, I wonder if things would go faster if I didn't sing "The Wheels on the Bus" three dozen times a night or try to bathe and dress a 3 year old and a 2 year old at the same time. But because I know my time is limited, I can get more homework done in an hour than I could in 5 before I had kids.

Tonight I accomplished the following: laundry washed, folded and put away; dishes washed; cookies baked; I got a shower; set out my clothes for tomorrow; and most importantly, I spent the night playing with my boys. I think I am super woman, but it's even better to know that I am super mom.

Bad Day

When I was a kid, I had a book about Alexander and his horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day. I used to read it and feel better about my day because it couldn't possibly be any worse than his. Until Wednesday.

I have to preface this with a separate story. Last weekend, my younger son ended up admitted to the hospital with croup. We went to the ER on Sunday morning and were admitted when the doctor didn't think he had improved enough after 2 breathing treatments. Not only did I spend a rough night with him, I had to help restrain him for an IV and 7 breathing treatments. So I was already emotionally and physically drained. Now back to Wednesday.

My doctoral classes have begun and Wednesday I had statistics at 9 am. As I was getting ready I hear my oldest son wake up my husband and it's not even 7 (that is early for him). Almost immediately, I hear him start crying as his request for something was not fullfilled immediately. His crying promptly woke up my younger son. Great.

After a morning full of whining and crying, I finally made it out the door. I have a 45 minute drive so I was concentrating on the highway. Half way there, my mind is wandering, and I look up at my rearview mirror. And it hits me. I don't have my parking pass. Great.

I get to school and park, tossing in a quick prayer not to get a ticket (I didn't, thank goodness!). I grab my bags and started looking for my lunch. It wasn't there. I forgot it. Great.

Starting to get angry and frustrated, I finally make it to my office. Several of my classmates are there talking and they can all sense something is wrong. I just said I was having a bad day and tried to move on. I opened my laptop to check my email. Someone asked me a question so I turned around to face whoever it was. As I turned in my chair, I knocked over my cup and spilled coffee on the keyboard of my laptop. Great.

Fortunately for me, someone else was with it enough to tell me to tip it upside down. I credit her with saving my computer. By this point, I wanted to cry. But I couldn't because it was time for class. I get all of my materials out including pencil and paper to take notes. As I start writing, I hear, snap! My pencil lead broke. I wipe it away and click for a new piece of lead. Ok, I can continue. About 5 minutes later.... snap! Here we go again. A few minutes later... snap! You have got to be kidding me. I did this for three hours! Great.

When class ended, I threw my hands up. I was done. I went home early, had lunch with my husband, and we picked up the boys early for extra play time. You may not remember Alexander when you have a bad day, but maybe you can remember me. A laugh a little bit.

Boys Will Be Boys

Growing up as the younger of two sisters, our home was filled to the brink with Barbies, clothes, dolls and other such girly things. As a mom, my role is totally reversed as I am now the only girl in this house. I find myself surrounded by cars and trucks. I have learned that anything (and I truly mean anything) can become a sword with enough imagination.

I have also started learning that boys handle problems and show love in a totally different way than I am used to. My sister and I used to have screaming matches and call each other ridiculous names (it's ok, we've forgiven each other since). I used to get up at 5 am to beat her into our shared bathroom otherwise I would get locked out. The drama was so over the top, I often wonder why my dad didn't pull his hair out. My boys, all 3 of them, do things completely different.

I realized this when we were Skyping with my parents this weekend. My oldest climbed on top of me, like he was trying to sit on my shoulders. This is no easy task for me, as he has been in the 95th percentile for height and weight since birth. At 3 he is already over 3 1/2 feet tall and close to 40 pounds. As my mom was watching me struggle she says to him, "You should be nice to mommy." It was in that moment that I realized he was.

Let me explain a little better. Boys show their love in physical ways. My boys are at their happiest when they are all wrestling together and smacking each other around. Girls like hugs and such but words mean so much more. That's why you see girls drinking coffee and talking about their problems and guys drink beer and see who can take the most punches. My oldest son was showing me love by climbing all over me. It seems like an oxymoron, but at least from my experience it's true.

I wonder how this house will be in 10 years when we have 2 teenage boys who want to have friends over to watch football. How much of my stuff will get broken and how much will it cost me to feed them? I don't know, but I'm willing to bet that the higher the bill, the more love there will be in this house.

No Pictures, Please!

We went to the Houston Zoo yesterday. It's the second time we've made the trip. The first time was on Father's Day and we took many pictures to commemorate the occasion. I made a decision that on this trip we would not take any. You read that right, NO PICTURES.

Here's why I made this decision. It seems like every time we go somewhere or do something I want to take pictures. I think that makes me a pretty normal mom, and my family is all quite a distance from us so we take lots of pictures to share. But I have felt like we are taking so many that we are missing out on some of the fun. We really did forget the "real" camera (i.e. not the phones) and I decided to leave my phone in the van. If I didn't take it in, there was no temptation to use it. My husband took his phone, but he rarely uses the camera and we did not some way to tell time. Heaven forbid either of us wears a watch, right?

Anyway, we had a very good time. It was interesting to take in the differences. Instead of trying to get pictures and getting frustrated because they came out blurry or someone ran off before I could get the shot, I was more involved in what was happening. We bought the boys their first slushie and I got wrapped up in making faces with my oldest son. His tongue turned blue from the blue raspberry and we were taking turns sticking our tongues out at each other. I have to wonder if that would have happened if I was trying to get his picture instead.

And when my youngest son got hot and tired, we were able to get back to the van without anyone being disappointed about not getting pictures. We had a good time and I don't think anyone missed the camera. I was actually surprised with myself that I did not even think about the camera at all while we were in the zoo. It really never crossed my mind. I am pretty proud of that, actually. I'm hoping that the extra time we spent with the boys instead of behind the camera. I see a new trend in our future. That doesn't mean we will stop taking pictures all together, but I think that it's nice to not worry about it all the time.

Really, does the whole world need to see us eating Cheetos and Lunchables? No. Would my family enjoy the pictures. Yes. But I think they will forgive me for not taking pictures of it this time. And even if they don't, you know what? It's ok.

Baby Steps

We took a couple of baby steps yesterday, one with each boy. It's funny how I expected them to change as babies as they learned new skills and words. But I was a little taken aback with what happened yesterday.

My youngest son still had a baby monitor in his room until naptime yesterday. In short, he was playing with it and he broke the receiver in his room. My husband tried to fix it, but it was beyond repair. We talked about getting a new one, but honestly that is not in our budget right now. Since my son is 2, we also talked about how long he would really need one. We decided to see how he would do without it. You see, my oldest son will come get us up when he wakes up in the morning. My youngest won't. He will just talk or cry until one of us gets him up. You know what? He was fine.

Then came a big surprise. At dinner last night, my oldest son started talking about someone named Toby. After asking him some questions, I realized he has his first imaginary friend. According to him, Toby is black, hairless, toothless, doesn't eat and watches the dogs while we are gone. When I told my sister, she said that reminded her of Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon. Maybe, but we were informed today that Toby has no tail and likes to go to the library.

No longer do I have a home with a bouncy seat, onesies, a baby monitor, bottles or pacifiers. Instead of 2 babies, I have come to the realization that I have 2 toddlers that quickly becoming little, young men. I am a little sad, but also so excited for all of the adventures ahead of us. They still have so much to discover and learn. I think that's my favorite part of being a mom. Watching them get so excited when they learn or see or hear something new. I don't think that will ever get old. And I love showing them the path to learn and explore.

Let's see if I still feel that way when they leave for college.

Imperfect Moment

Tonight my oldest son taught me a lesson. I want to share it because even though I am not happy about how it happened, I think it's worth sharing.

I came to the realization awhile ago that sometimes I yell more than I like. I wouldn't consider myself a "yeller" because it doesn't happen all the time, but it is something I decided to work on. Tonight, I failed miserably.

My son was watching a show about bicycles to help him settle down for bed. He was more fidgety than normal and just would not sit still. I warned him about throwing toys by telling him to stop or we were going straight to bed without finishing the show. Well, he pushed the limits and I turned off the TV. He lost it; screaming, crying, throwing things, hitting me, etc. I told him to go to the bathroom to go potty before bed, per our routine. He yelled, "NO!" and ran into our bedroom. I got him out and told him to go to the bathroom. He ran under the kitchen table. That was when I lost my temper and yelled, "GET OUT FROM UNDER THERE!"

We finally made it to bed, with the fight continuing I might add. He asked me to sleep with him. Now what I have been doing on nights my husband works, is go check on my younger son and then come back to sit with my oldest until he settles. I told my oldest I needed a few minutes to calm down and then I would come back.

I debated on whether to go back or not, but after picking up books and toys and sweeping, I felt like I should at least talk to him a little about what happened. I walked into his room and laid down next to him in his racecar bed. He snuggled right up to me and I said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you." His response? "Mommy, you need to be careful with me."

WHOA.

He's right. So even though I know I may slip up, I am taking the Orange Rhino Challenge. Feel free to check it out for yourself. And hopefully, I will always remember to be careful.

Feeling the Guilt

I don't know how many of you out there reading this work outside of the home. In my experience, a lot of moms have to. Either you want to (like me, you would go out of your MIND staying at home) or you have to, but no matter what the reason it can still lead to guilt.

Now I don't want to make it sound like I don't want to be at home with my boys. If there was a way for me to stay home and get paid for it (without working), I absolutely would but that is not very realistic. If you have a trust fund, maybe. But leaving for work everyday or finding time to work from home almost always leads to guilt eventually. I remember working a job that I HATED, I mean absolutely HATED, and I had an hour commute each way, 5 days a week. I was pregnant with my second son and I had to leave every morning before my oldest woke up. I would cry the entire way there every day. It was awful.

But I don't feel as much guilt as I used to. Why? Because I am doing something that I enjoy. Yes, it hurts to be away from my boys. It will always hurt and it never gets easy. But I also know I am providing a good example for them by doing what I love to do. When they "grow up" I hope that they will be inspired to do what they love and not be concerned about how much money they make. I really don't think it should be about that.

Do you feel guilty? I think it's a good thing. It means you love your children and you don't like to be away from them. If you don't feel guilt, that's ok, too! All mommies need a break from time to time and some women use work as their break from their children. However you feel, just know that you are not alone and it's ok.

Success!

All of us have had those moments when we beat ourselves up over and over again for doing something "wrong" with our kids. We wonder if there is any way our kids will grow up to be normal adults because we are messing up so bad. And then, every once in awhile, we get a glimmer of hope. I got one of those gems today.

My boys have a book called, "It's OK to Be Different." It's by Todd Parr (if you want to check it out) and we got it as a gift. It talks a lot about how it's ok if you are not like everybody else. Well, we've read that book a lot and my oldest son is always excited about the page that talks about how it's ok to have a pet worm. Out of all the things that it talks about, how could that be the only thing he gets out of it? But, he's a boy so I never put much stock in it.

Then we watched "The Land Before Time" (remember that movie? Total classic!) and the dinosaurs started talking about how three horns don't play with long necks. My oldest asked me what that meant and I tried my best to explain that it meant that they weren't playing together because they were different. Then he unexpectedly walks up to the TV and says to the dinosaurs, "It's ok to be different. You can play together." I was completely blown away.

When I realized what he had said and where it came from, I was so happy that my husband and I had created such a sweet little boy. He understood something we had taught him and he was able to apply it to a situation without any intervention from us. We did something right! But we cannot stop here. This is the first of many lessons that he needs to learn in life.

I give you this story because it is always easy to look at the negative and destroy ourselves as parents when our kids make mistakes. When you get a moment like this (and I promise you will), hand on to it as hard as you can. Bring it back to your mind when things get tough. You will be surprised at what your little ones will teach you, if you are open to receiving it.

A Strange Anniversary

Today is an anniversary for our family. Something important happened 2 years ago, and I almost forgot. But I'm not upset about not remembering. Let me explain.

Two years ago today, we brought our youngest son home from the hospital after he spent 10 days in the NICU. He was born on June 17th and on the 19th we were discussing going home the next day. I was alone in the hospital with him because my husband was with our older son. I was trying to get up (I had a c-section) when the nurse noticed his diaper was dirty and asked me if she could change him. I said sure because I wanted to get in the chair so I could hold him. And then she said two words that changed everything: "That's bizarre."

I asked her what it was and she said, "There's blood in his diaper." I jumped out of that chair, totally forgetting about my incision (but I paid for in pain much later after the adrenaline wore off). She asked me if I had taken his temperature recently. No. He hadn't been circumcised yet. Confused, she told me she was going to take him to the nursery to have him checked and she whisked him away.

There I was, by myself, with no idea what was happening to my baby. I called my husband and tried to tell him what was going on but I was crying so hard I'm not really sure how much he understood. But he got the message that I needed him there ASAP.

When he got there, it was a blur of nurses, doctors, and paperwork. I remember they let me give him a kiss before they took him to the NICU. Beyond that, a lot of what happened is fuzzy for me.

They tested the blood to see if it was his or mine. He was born screaming so they wondered if he swallowed some of my blood. No, it was his. And the bleeding wouldn't stop. His platelets were low. He ended up needing a transfusion of platelets and then a few hours later, he got a whole blood transfusion. In total, he ended up with 5 IV lines: one in each hand, two in his belly button, and a pic line in his shoulder. He was under an oxygen tent because he couldn't stabilize his oxygen levels. The worse part was that we weren't allowed to touch him except for specific times.

Gradually he got better, but it was a fight and we all knew it. I went home without him and I cannot even describe how that feels. I pray none of you reading this ever have to go through something like that. We spent 2 nights caring for him in the hospital before he gained enough weight for us to take him home. Putting him in the car seat was the best moment we had during that time.

Anyway, my mom asked me the other day to send her the date we brought him home. And I couldn't remember; I had to look it up. At first, I felt bad for not remembering. How could I forget such an important day? But as I thought about it, I realized I forgot because it's not that important anymore. He just turned 2 and is in perfect health. He has not had any other health problems since, other than the occasional cold and ear infection (admittedly, he has had 2 sets of ear tubes and his adenoids removed, but everything went perfectly for those).

So do I feel bad for not remembering? A little, but not really. And you know what? That's ok.

We Really Are Crazy!

I had an epiphany last night. It was amazing! Let me set the scene for you. I was super tired because the last few nights have provided me with little sleep. Both boys have been difficult to put to bed and have fought sleep. I was barely awake enough to keep them entertained. By the time my husband got home from work (which was after 11) I had not gone through my usual evening ritual of doing dishes and sweeping. And I realized I had not eaten dinner. Lovely.

Anyway, I looked around the house and started thinking. Thinking about how I do the same thing every night. The floor gets dirty again, the dishes get dirty again, the boys fight me about something, on and on and on. My thoughts then gravitated toward disciplining the boys, which is also basically doing the same things over and over and over. Most parenting advice consists of being consistent, even when the discipline does not seem to be working because it can take time for children to learn and adjust. Consistency means doing the same thing over and over again, right? Well, what is the definition of insanity? Get where I'm going with this......

Insanity is sometimes defined as repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result. Sounds a lot like consistency! As these thoughts swirled in my head, I suddenly realized that's why people always say parents are crazy! And to tell you the truth, I think a lot of us are. Now I do not mean that in a bad way, at all. But you really have to be in order to keep yourself from tearing your hair out and putting your clothes on backwards. Don't you think?

Let me give you a personal example. When my oldest son was about a year old, my husband and I went out to dinner. I don't remember where we were, but I remember he was old enough to have a sippy cup full of water (this comes back later in the story). We had gotten our food and were only a few bites into the meal, when my son promptly threw up. Later we realized he had too much water to drink and had gotten sick because of that. Anyway, when he got sick, he got some on my plate. My husband was working on getting him cleaned up and I was picking the food off my plate that had been thrown up on. In my defense, a good part of my plate was still fine and I was thinking I could save most of it. My husband looked at me and asked me what I was doing. There I was, picking vomit out of my plate trying to salvage my dinner (in my defense, I was pregnant with our youngest son and I was at the really hungry point of the pregnancy). Can you think of any other way to describe that than insanity?

It's OK

I was inspired to start this blog after I had a realization. A few months ago, I was talking with another mommy friend of mine. We were discussing the difficulties we had getting our children to go to bed. And she says, "I keep thinking, 'You need a spanking, kiddo!'" I have to be honest, I was shocked to hear that come from her. She is a wonderful, loving mommy and I thought I was the only mom who felt or thought that way. It suddenly hit me......

I AM NOT ALONE.

This may seem strange to come to this realization when I did, but it was liberating. I felt like I had someone in my camp. See, I have a type A personality and it is very hard for me to accept that I am not the perfect mama (hence the name of this blog). I remember being in the hospital, holding my oldest son and promising him I would never make him cry. Fast forward 3 and half years and it's safe to say I have broken that promise dozens of times over. And you know what? It's ok.

No matter what I do with my kids, there is someone out there that will not agree. And that's ok.

No matter what YOU do with your kids, there is someone out there that will not agree. And that's ok.

I read an article recently about ending mommy wars. It talked about mommies that have different opinions about how to raise kids and how we sometimes get feisty about what we believe in. And I think we all do. But every kid is different and every mama is different and guess what? That's ok.

So here's my first confession. We just moved from Missouri to Texas and my boys have adjusted pretty well. But recently, my oldest has started fighting us at bedtime. He just would NOT stay in his room and my husband and I were spending the better part of 90 minutes to get him to bed. And then my mom texted me to say, "Maybe he needs some extra cuddles." So for the last week or so, I have been lying with him until he falls asleep. The same thing happens at naptime with my younger son. He just will not stop doing flips off of his bed.

Do I worry about creating a bad habit? Of course. Do I worry that I am setting them up to never be able to sleep without me with them? Of course. Is that ridiculous? Of course. They are not going to call me in 20 years to ask me to tuck them into bed. But as I watched my oldest fall asleep tonight, I can't help but feel like it's the right thing to do for them right now.

Some of you will disagree with me and you know what? It's ok.