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.