Thursday, June 28, 2012

What Did You Think Would Happen?


I came across this ecard and thought it was hilarious, probably because there is so much truth in it! I posted it to facebook and emailed it to all of my friends, but then continued to think about it throughout the night. The break down in society happened when people went from a good old fashioned diaper puff, to a timeout, at least that’s my opinion, and I’ve found my opinion to be right about 98% of the time! Please don’t take offense to this if you are a “timer-outer”, because I do believe that this can be a very effective consequence if used correctly, and I know that it has to be used in certain circumstances such as daycare facilities, or if you are in ANY PUBLIC PLACE and don’t want 13 strangers to call CPS or the police on you. I have to say though, I think that time outs are often used to the point where they become very ineffective. I was almost, yes almost, offended about 9 months ago at one of Ben’s regular well-child checkups when the doctor felt the need to ask us what type of discipline we used. I remember it like it was yesterday, Adam and I looked at each other, neither of us knowing what to say. If we tell him that we have spanked our child will we instantly have our parental rights terminated?? I’m pretty sure after the “deer in the headlights” stare I jumped back to reality and said “We use time-outs!” Remember, that’s only a half-lie since I do also use time-outs, actually it’s probably only 1/8th of a lie because it’s very rare that we have to do anything physical with Ben, he really is a good boy most of the time, I’m lucky. Anyway, after I threw out my 1/8th of a lie, the tension in the room evaporated, Adam and I both took a deep breath, and the doctor reassured us that he was happy with that and that “there really is no room in today’s world for corporal punishment.” We escaped the appointment with full custody of Ben, knowing well that a swat to a diapered bottom isn’t really corporal punishment and that we are still better parents than all of our friends, at least that’s what we tell ourselves behind our friend’s backs. You know that you do this too so stop judging me!
Anyway, I realize that doctors, teachers, daycare providers, friends and family all help to raise a child, I truly believe that it takes a village, but when did my parenting ability and skills become EVERYONE’S business? I do appreciate hints, tips, and advice that often come from mothers or friends who have already “been through it,” but I want my doctor to provide health care, my daycare provider to provide care, and teachers to educate. In many of the professions that I have had, I’ve been handed the responsibility of being a mandatory reporter for any suspected neglect or abuse so I understand why many of these people do report issues….but c’mon, there’s  HUGE difference between a hand slap or swat on a diapered bottom and actual abuse and neglect. To this day, my mom swears that I was a good child (excluding my teenage years) and that she only spanked me a couple of times. Let me tell you though, those couple of times stuck with me and I never misbehaved because I didn’t want to be spanked again! Now, if it were a time out, eh…those are over in a couple of minutes…but a spanking, THAT HURTS or at least hurts your pride, even as a 3 year old!  My parents were not abusers, nor were they power hungry, but they were good parents and they believed in rules and discipline, and they’ve passed that on to their children. I love and respect my parents and family…a lot more than I’ve seen many “non-disciplined” children. I would never push my mom, punch my dad, steal money from a wallet or purse...all because of the rules and morals that were set when I was very young…and I know that back in the day there were no timeouts! So, as the picture says…What did you think would happen when you took away our parent’s rights to beat our asses?

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

My New Bat Bag

          Yes, I could have found a babysitter. Yes, my kids probably would have behaved decent for a babysitter, and yes, I probably would have had a MUCH better time at my rec softball game if I wouldn’t have taken my two children. But…I took them anyway because who is going to babysit willingly without tv and air conditioning being hooked up and who wants to babysit two kids that scream like banshees when I leave? Nobody!
          Here was my night:

4:30: out of work, rush home to get my softball jersey, cleats, and glove. Pack the  diaper bag with snacks, juice, toys, diapers, wipes…and my jersey,   cleats and glove! (who needs a bat bag when you can stuff everything you need for your softball game in your trendy diaper bag?)

5:00: pick kids up from daycare, drive my father-in-law to pick up his car at the shop.

5:30: Pick up a healthy dinner of McDonalds, and an Iced Tea for myself since I had forgotten to pack water in the rush of the evening.

6:00:  Finally, at the game…and on time! Ready to go!

          I get Ben to sit down at the picnic table by the ball field so I can keep an eye on him while he eats his “Donalds,” give Presley a mcnugget to gnaw on so she doesn’t scream when I pass her on to whoever will hold her, and I’m off to the field where I’ll end up playing a less than mediocre third base. In all of the hustle, I can’t imagine why it’s a little tough to focus on the game?!? After the inning is over, Ben is finished with “Donalds” and is off to the playground, where he may or may not fall and crack his head when I notice him climbing on top of the covered slide rather than sliding down inside of it. Presley is crying because her nugget is gone. I quickly put one french fry in each of her hands and rush to the playground to rescue my child from the mild concussion that he is about to have when his cowboy boot slips and he falls to the ground from atop the play equipment. (yes, this is how my mind works unfortunately) It’s almost my turn to go bat…but…”Mommy, I wanna go potty.” I urge Ben to go behind the bleachers and pee, but he told me no and that he had to poop in the potty! To help you understand the significance of this, Ben telling me that he has to poop before he has already left a “log” in his pants is equivalent to witnessing a solar eclipse, it happens rarely, but when it does it’s amazing! So, needless to say, I had to pick him up and run to the ball field bathroom that is just one step above a portable outhouse. He pooped! Amazing! I picked him up and rushed back to the field, which seemed to be about 3.4 miles away! Carrying a 38 lb child can make even the shortest walk very difficult. The game continued, Ben went back to the perilous playground, barefoot this time, and Presley continued to cry. Eventually the game concluded, we won, without the help of the very distracted third baseman, and I got Presley to stop crying. We went home, she fell asleep in the car, Ben took a bath, and the night was finally calm. I just really want to know…when did my ball bag turn into a diaper bag?  

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

In the Arms of an Angel

            I’m not sure if it’s a “mom” thing or a “woman” thing, but isn’t it funny how your emotions have completely changed from the time you were 18, or even 21, to now? I promise that I would never call any of us old, because I am a firm believer that you’re only as old as you feel, but for the sake of this argument we’ll just call us “experienced in life.” Back to my point…as a teenager one of your friends falls down, you giggle, now…you wince and rush to their aid. As a child you clap your hands and cheer for the firefighter that comes to your school for a presentation, now you fight back the tears because you watch a firefighter on television rescuing an elderly man, or a baby, or even a dog from a burning building. As a child you may cry at Christmas because you didn’t get everything you wanted, and now as a parent you cry yourself to sleep because you can’t afford to buy your child everything he wanted for Christmas, or maybe not necessarily everything he wanted, but you couldn’t buy him everything you wanted him to have. On a much lighter note, as a child it is the end of the world if your best friend moves to the next city, and as an adult you’re so happy for your friends when they move away for a new job or new opportunity.
            I think this happens, especially to women, about the time we stop getting free drinks in bars. Reality hits right around that time, men move on to buying drinks for the “less experienced” and we begin to see life for what it really is, HARD! I cannot speak for everyone, but I am imagining that we all feel similar, at least sometimes. As I was arriving home from vacation last week, I a saw young, and by young I mean he couldn’t have been more than 22, Navy seaman who appeared to be returning from duty overseas, or at least this is what my imagination has led me to believe. He was standing by a man that appeared to be a very proud father. I made eye contact with the young man and just smiled, I wanted to go hug him to thank him for serving our country, but it took everything I had in me to not cry. All I could picture that moment was my own son being shipped off to Afghanistan, or any other war-ridden country for that matter. As proud as I would be, and as I am of all of the men and women who do go off to war, I think my nerves and emotions would get the best of me as a mother. I’d be a wreck! Everything that happens, I now instantaneously put myself or my family into that situation, and here come the tears! The horribly sad commercial that features Sarah McLachlan and displays all of the abused and neglected animals gets me every time. Yes, I consider my dogs and cats part of the family, and I can’t imagine anyone ever being so cruel. Commercials that show starving children make me want to empty my life savings. It is sad enough to think about children being so hungry, but it also saddens me to imagine how the mothers of those children feel when they cannot provide a piece of bread for their babies.
            Now that I have everyone singing the song “In the Arms of an Angel,” I’ll depart by saying that it sure was a lot easier being a kid. You weren’t afraid of anything, you were invincible, and you didn’t really care that your parents worried about you every single day. Now I’m the parent, and...it sure was a lot easier being a kid!

Monday, June 25, 2012

Ahhh...back home

We arrived home from our weeklong vacation from reality. Obviously, we have arrived home safe and sound, and my parents who were caring for our kids and dogs did not have to use any of the emergency medical or parental rights authorizations that I had written up, nor did my dogs have to be given to their rightful Godparents. Yes, I know, I need to be medicated for this anxiety! In case you were wondering, which I know you weren’t, the cats are fine too. They had been left in our house without any supervision for a week. A friend had come over periodically to feed and change litter, but imagine how the house smells after 2 cats have been locked inside for a week with all of the windows shut. Ahhhh…good to be home, back to reality. For an entire week I was without children, without pets, without cleaning, cooking, or a job, it’s quite the shock to pull in the driveway to reality, and I don’t think I like it.
Don’t get me wrong, I missed my kids terribly, and my loving animals too, but it was great to just be “me and Adam” again! We woke up when we wanted, we ate when we wanted, drank what we wanted, and left our amazing condo overlooking the ocean…whenever we wanted. I didn’t have to carry diapers or wipes, and the only ibuprofen I carried in my 21 year old sized purse (this is much smaller than my typical mom purse) was to cure a hangover, not to soothe sore teeth. No dog walking, no cleaning the litter box…just me and Adam hanging out and acting a lot like we did when we first met. For the most part, and for one full week, we joked, loved, touched, and laughed like we did 5 years ago. There were still a few times when we argued, or got annoyed, hard not to do that when we’re spending 24 hours together every day, but the vacation was great, we were great.
Annnnd then…home. We picked the kids and dogs up from my parent’s house, made a quick stop at Meijer, and we headed home. Presley cried the whole ride, Ben asked his rather annoying “why” about everything that we said, and the dogs proceeded to smear their noses all over the windows in the back of my Durango. When we arrived home and walked through the door, we were quickly reminded of the mess that we had left. Usually, before vacations, or leaving for the weekends, I try to get the house in order and cleaned up, but there just wasn’t time before this vacation. And when I say there was no time, I mean that I checked out of reality about a week and a half ago and stopped cleaning, cooking, and did only the bare necessities to get by until our real vacation actually started. Most of our day yesterday was spent cleaning, getting snacks and dinner around, organizing, and working on Adam’s vehicle that apparently “went on vacation” too and decided not to start once we arrived home! It is good to be home, I guess…but it’s only been a day and I already miss my vacation from reality!

Sunday, June 17, 2012

A mother's guilt...

    I'm on vacation, in an amazing condo for the week, with amazing people. No responsiblities, no schedule, and nothing that we HAVE to do! I wake up to the view and sound of the ocean outside my window. No alarm and definitely nobody coming into my bedroom saying "Mommy, wake up!" Nothing! And....I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. I know that may be hard to understand for some, but many of you know exactly what I mean, especially those of you who have children. I'm having fun, trying to sleep in, and staying up past 9pm...where are my children?  My kids are with my parents for a week, having a vacation of their own with tractors to play on, horses to ride, and their cousins living so close that they'll be able to play every day. Why do I feel guilty?
  I think this is a mom thing. It has taken me a while, and I still sometimes wish for the days without children. Don't get me wrong, I love them more than life itself and would never, ever trade my children for anything...but when people say "I can't imagine life without them," I don't get that! I can definitely imagine life without them! I HAD a life without them and it was polar opposite of what I have now. Pre-children, it was nothing new to stay up until 4 am partying at the after-party and then waking up at 7 am to be at work on time. I could handle that then, probably because I was able to take a nap after work! Pre-children, I got a text message to go out to the bar spur of the moment, hell yeah! It was easy when I didn't have to find a babysitter! And now, I'm without kids again, for an entire week, and I don't know what to do with myself! By noon we have plans of going out to the bar and dancing, by 8 pm I'm ready for bed! We stay up late talking, partying, laughing, I'm still up at 6am ready to take the kids to daycare and go to work! I have no idea how to do this vacation thing anymore!
   I think about my life before kids, and yes, I can still imagine it, but it has become just that, my imagination. Sort of like imagining you're a millionaire, you always want it, until you become it and then you can't handle it (ahem..Lindsay Lohan!) I was that once, and it sure was fun for a few years, but this is what I want. A family, a marriage, and my AWESOME kiddos! Now, I just need to figure out how to get through this week with no kids, no responsibilites, staying up past 9pm! Hopefully before we leave I'll stop feeling guilty for not feeling guilty!
  

Friday, June 15, 2012

You're the one he missed out on

            So you had this great boyfriend waaaaay back when, and then for whatever reason it didn’t work out. Secretly you still stalk him on facebook, and sometimes you even still drive by where he works because driving by his house is far too obvious. You definitely don’t want him back, but you need to make sure that he still wants you. You need to make sure that he has moved on a little, but that you could have him back at any time. After time, this goes away, but you’ll always wonder what he’s doing, how he’s doing.  We all have one of those guys, be honest.
            So what happens when you run into that guy? First, you ask how things are going? He says great, but he obviously  means that he’s doing okay and his wife is just okay, it’s you that he really wishes he had. Second you ask how his wife is doing. He says that she’s doing great…what he means is that she hasn’t lost the baby weight after the second child, and it’s you that he still thinks is hot! Third, you ask how the kids are. He says that they’re growing like a weed. What he doesn’t want to tell you is that his kids aren’t as smart as yours, or as cute for that matter!
            Why do we do this? If you don’t do this now, you have, so stop judging me! Everything that you’ve always wanted is right in front of you. You have the man you always wanted, the life you always wanted, and the children that you never knew you wanted until they changed your life forever and now you can’t imagine how you were ever happy without them. You even have the dogs and cats (and rabbits!) that your husband hates, but puts up with because you want them and love them! What more could you want? Well, it makes us feel good to be desired. If you had the chance to go back to your past love for one day with no consequences would you do it? Absolutely not.  But how much of a self-esteem boost is it when your husband’s friends mention how hot you are, or you catch the guy at work checking out your butt, or more importantly your ex-boyfriend? Flattering right? You can smile and reminisce right now…nobody will ever have to know that you agree with me. You know that your husband or boyfriend loves you and thinks you’re sexy even when he doesn’t tell you, but it feels good when you know someone else thinks you’re hot too. Don’t worry, it’s normal and it happens to the best of us, and we’re still the hot ones that he missed out on!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Fairy Tales..

          Even though as a little girl I was never really into dolls, or princess movies, or “getting married” on the playground during lunch to a boy that you’ll for many years still be far too shy to even talk to. Even though I was more of a tomboy, for lack of a better word, and preferred being outside playing on the farm and taking care of animals, to being inside playing with dolls or helping my mom cook, I still always held on to the idea of a fairy tale. I don’t know if this is imposed by society, or media, or our mothers, or if it is innate, I don’t know, but I do know that most little girls, and grown women, never let go of the dream…the fairy tale. We still want to be swept off of our feet, to feel safe, to have a man that is taller, stronger, and smarter (although we know that will probably never really ever happen), than us. We all want a man that makes more money, changes the oil in the vehicles, fixes the leaky plumbing, and still makes time to be sensitive to our wants and needs. We want a man who can read our emotions and understand why we are feeling mad, or sad, or scared, or agitated, without us actually having to verbalize this to them, and then knows what to do to make everything better.
          Then it happens, and if it hasn’t happened yet, it will. I remember a day in my early 20s when it seemed that everyone around me was in love and happy, getting married, starting families, then there was me…living rent free in a house that my dad owned, eating 1 turkey sandwich a day because I had no job and I needed to save whatever money I did have to go to the bar to find the man of my dreams every Saturday, and only having my dog to cuddle up to every night. I know, pathetic, I can’t help it, I was having a pity party for myself and it lasted a few months. I was at the point where I was starting to believe that love wasn’t for me, and I needed to be content with being a single girl, but I still held on to that fairy tale dream. Eventually it happened, and things fell into place. I got a good job, met the man of my dreams and EVERYTHING was right in the world, in my world at least! And then you get comfortable with each other, or in my case, he got comfortable with me and the farting and using the toilet became a lot less private. The showering and shaving became a lot less frequent, because he didn’t want to waste water. Yes, he actually said that! The oil in my car that he is able to change, became less of a priority, and forget him knowing what I want without having to tell him!
          There may be a few people out there that are living the fairy tale dream and have everything that I mentioned above, but trust me….THEY ARE LYING TO YOU!  They fight just like the rest of us, they get completely annoyed just like the rest of us, they have a messy house at times just like the rest of us…and they take their car to the mechanic JUST LIKE THE REST OF US! But remember, they probably love like the rest of us too. I think we all have days when it seems like we didn’t marry our soul mate, but there are a lot more days that prove to us that we did, in fact, marry the person that can accept us, and loves us, and has so many of the same long-term goals as us…soul mate? I don’t know. The person that I can’t imagine my life without, yes. This is my new fairy tale.

           

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Milestones


          Ben is closing in on 3 years old and growing physically and mentally every day. My husband and I were watching him play in his Cowboy gear (boots, hat, Toy Story underwear, and his toy pistol, tucked in his underwear as if they were a holster) and reminiscing about his days as a baby. In my opinion, he was a baby until he got his first real haircut that changed him into a little man. He was such a lil chub-a-dub, always smiling until he didn’t get what he wanted, splashing in the tub and completely destroying the bathroom, learning to walk…he was so stinkin’ cute!
          Well…the cuteness seems to dwindle when everything I say, do, read, or even look at warrants a “Why?” from lil man. Last night for instance, as I was reading him a book, we heard a train on the tracks about a ½ mile from our house, the noise carried and made it sound as if it were next door and Ben noticed. He sat up in bed and our conversation was as follows:

Ben: What’s that?
Me: A train.
Ben: What color is it? Is it red?
Me: I don’t know what color it is.
Ben: Is it black?
Me: I don’t know buddy, maybe it is black.
Ben: Why?
Me: You tell me why.
Ben: Yeah, it’s black.
Me: You’re probably right bud! It probably is black.

And then we kept reading his Cowboy book. The book showed an illustration of the cartoon cowboy brushing his horse. Our next conversation was as follows:

Ben: Where’s that thing?
Me: What thing?
Ben: (pointing to the horse’s back) That thing that goes there.
Me: The saddle?
Ben: Yeah, saddle.
Me: I don’t know Bud. (trying to guide him back to listening rather than talking!)
Ben: Why? (keep in mind the question “why?” doesn’t even fit in the context of
   the conversation right now)
Me: Why do you think?
Ben: It’s over there. (pointing to the saddle on the ground in the illustration)
Me: You’re right!

And finally, the book is finished, it’s bed time. You guessed it, another conversation…

Me: Time to go to sleep buddy.
Ben: Why?
Me: Because it’s late and it’s way past your bedtime.
Ben: Why?

Right about now is when I lost all patience and became annoyed and sternly said….wait for it….wait for it…..

          “BECAUSE I SAID SO!”

Instantly, I felt bad, and guilty, and…like a real parent! That was the first time I had used that one single phrase that I had hated so unbelievably much as a child. I swore that I’d never use it and never, ever understood why my mom used it…UNTIL NOW! He stopped asking why and I was able to leave the room. It worked, it really worked! I completely understand now, I hate it, but I understand! Not only is Ben reaching those critical milestones as a child, I’m reaching them as a parent!

Monday, June 11, 2012

Huge Mistake

On your 16th birthday you are finally able to take your car, pick up your best friend, and go drive. It doesn’t matter where you’re going, but you’re FREE, finally! On your 18th birthday you once again go pick up your best friend, drive to the store and purposely buy something that will force the cashier to ask you for your ID. Remember that feeling that you got when you had to actually show your ID to buy something…you were an adult for the first time! You felt like you were “getting away with something” even though you were legal, you still weren’t used to the feeling of being an adult. And, just when being an adult starts to feel normal, you’re 21, and for a while you’re still loving it when the bartender asks you for your ID. That novelty wears off after a while and it starts to get annoying when you are carded, you’re 23, you look 23, why are they asking to check your ID? Then for a couple of years it’s awesome when you can get by without having to show your ID because you finally appear to be older than 21.
Well, now I want to “appear” 21 again! I had to run to the grocery store this weekend to grab a couple of things for the hot dog cookout that we were having for the kiddos. Adam wanted some beer, so like a good wife I added a case of Bud Light to my cart, and after double checking my list I was ready to check out.  I picked the shortest line which also happened to have a teenager as the cashier. I loaded all of my groceries on to the belt, paid, went home. When I arrived home I found that there was an item in the bag that wasn’t mine, some solo cups, so I immediately scanned the receipt line by line making sure that I hadn’t paid for this item that had accidently been put into my bag by the cashier. Luckily, I hadn’t (I consider this a store bonus!), but I noticed something really unusual on the receipt. CUSTOMER OVER 40, NO ID CHECK REQUIRED. 
            What the hell was this? I saved the receipt, made my husband read it line by line and forced him to stare at it until he noticed the HUGE MISTAKE that the idiot cashier had made. I made him tell me that I didn’t look 40, or 30, and barely looked 25. (Sometimes I can get him to say what I need to hear if I coach him a little!) I showed the mistake, that’s what we’ll call it, to everyone that came to the house that day, including my brother and sister-in-law, an old friend of mine (using the term old loosely), and my father-in-law. Everyone agreed, it must have been a mistake! There’s no way my friends and family would lie to me just to heal my broken pride.
            Now is the time I need to follow my son’s advice of “you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit,” but I am throwing a fit! I’m not yet 30, but within the last 4 years, my life has made a complete 180! There’s not one thing that’s the same, I’ve come from being the single girl who loved to head out to the club or bar on a Thursday, to struggling to stay up til 8:30pm. The girl who ran 7 miles before riding her motorcycle to the gym, to the girl who walks fast while pushing 2 kids in a “running” stroller and driving a Durango so everyone can fit! When you’re young, you can’t wait to be older, and now that I’m older, I wish I was young. Will we ever be completely satisfied with our age?

Blissfully in Love

     Ok, although I'm pretty sure my co-author and I could go on and on about our weight issues (it IS summer and we can't ignore it anymore), I'm going to write about something else that we married women forget from time to time.  We get so busy with work and children and laundry and cleaning and dinner and dishes and, well, lots of stuff, and our husbands and us forget to make that special time for each other-those times that make us feel giddy again, like when we first met, or when we found out we were pregnant for the first time or on our honey moon.  I had a weekend that reminded me how blissfully in love I am with my husband and I wanted to 'put it in ink' before the business of LIFE took the memory away!
     Friday at 4 p.m. we decided we were going to go to Mackinac Island.  We rushed to pack and leave our house by 4:30 p.m. (last Ferry to the Island was 8:30 p.m. and it is a 4 1/2 hour drive).  We made great time and pulled into Mackinaw City at 8:28 p.m. but we decided to stay at a hotel near the Ferries called Comfort Suites.  This hotel had a water park for kids and was open until 10 p.m..  We rushed to our room, changed everyone into swimsuits and rushed to the water park.  It was AWESOME!  The water was only 1 foot deep so it was completely safe for Tyler and Kendall enjoyed it, too.  Kurt and I took turns between playing with Kendall and Tyler (yes, Kendall even went down the slides!). 
     The next morning after our continental breakfast we went back to the waterpark for an hour.  While I was taking picture and 'filming' my 2 guys racing down the slides, I realized how much my heart had expanded over this short time in Mackinaw City. . .expanded with love for the man I said, "I do" to 7 years ago, the man I argue and disagree with and complain about, this man that won my heart 10 years ago, still today, owns my heart and triggers such feelings only we, who have our soul mates, can understand. 
     When our hour was up we rushed back to our room, took showers, got dressed, packed and loaded the car and raced to the ferry boats.  We got to Mackinac Island about 1:30 and had the best day.  Sure, the children were cranky and fussy at times but we were TOGETHER and it wasn't Kurt taking care of them or me taking care of them, we were all together and functioned as a family.  It has been a while since we spent that much time together as a family and it was the best time I've had in a long while.  It brought back all those giddy feelings and thoughts in my heart and stomach for the husband I adore and love with my whole heart and that wonderful "family" feeling which I originally desired when I signed up to be a 'mommy'.
     We got back home around 4:30 a.m. Sunday morning so we were only gone for about 36 hours, but those 36 hours were what brought me back to this wonderful feeling of being blissfully in love.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Real Mirrors

Now, a man may not agree with this following statement, but there ARE such things as fat mirrors. At least that is what I’m going to tell myself, and my friends all seem to support me, unless they’re just too shy to tell me that I’m 300 lbs and covered in cellulite. I like to think that I’m a realistic person and that I see things how they are and not just how I want them to be…most of the time at least, but as I was at the tanner yesterday (stop rolling your eyes, I’m going on vacation and don’t want to get a sunburn) I looked in the mirror and the creature that I saw looking back at me WAS NOT ME! I realize that I’ve packed on a few pounds and no longer have the body I had when I was 18, my babies have given me a few pride marks on my belly, and the things that used to be perky…well, not so much anymore, but that was not me in that mirror. This was obviously a fat mirror.
There are certain places in life where fat mirrors should be, and certain places that they should NOT be! I would say that buffet lines at the casino, the spare bedroom that your mother-in-law stays in when she visits, and the McDonald’s bathroom are excellent places to strategically place a fat mirror…oh, and maybe the gym (just so you have that motivation to keep going), but that one is still questionable.  But a tanning salon…really? I’ve noticed that there other places that strategically set up real mirrors that reflect a completely accurate and self-esteem building portrayal of yourself. (There is no such thing as a skinny mirror, that is the real YOU!) I’ve seen these mirrors at every store in the mall, at every dance club and bar, however the memories of the real mirrors at the bars are a bit clouded.
It’s so weird how much your perception of yourself can change by looking in a mirror…sad really, and scary for anyone that has a daughter. In the past I’ve had self-image issues, but I feel that I didn’t really get to know myself or my body until I erased the scales, took the make-up away (unless it’s a special occasion…my own wedding for instance), and began to only use the mirror to pop zits and tweeze the werewolf eyebrows rather than stare into it every day to find my flaws. I thought that I was over this stuff, and I am for the most part, but it’s crazy how one fat mirror can change the course of your entire day in an instant and bring back those 19 year old insecurities once again. It’s a new day though, and I am still looking forward to my vacation on the beach and my week long breakfasts of Bloody Marys and not having to pack any underwear…because I’ll be in my 2 piece bathing suit ALL WEEK! Don’t worry, I already have plans of doing a little shopping for a few last minute items and a few sneak peeks of real mirrors!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

7 pounds

     I know, I know, 7 pounds doesn't sound like a lot, but it feels like a lot when an unhealthy, out-of-shape 30 year old decides she is going to lose that in the next month. . .yup, talking about myself.  Today is my second day eating a salad for lunch and no pepsi-NO PEPSI!  Pepsi is my drug of choice.  Anyway, yesterday was the first day of my new diet.  Last night I went home and worked out for 1 1/2 hours.  Now, that 1 1/2 hours, although I'd LOVE to say was the hardest work-out that anyone has ever had, it probably could not be in my top 10.  I did a Jillian Michael's dvd, a Windsor Pilates Butt and Thigh DVD, and Power90 abs work out.  Did I mention my 3 year old and 10 month old were in the middle of it all?
     So, with toys spilled out all around me I attempted the Jillian Michaels DVD.  I moved toys and furniture and children around while working out to every circuit.  "Squat, squat, squat, jump" then me moving Kendall from pulling up on my leg as I squatted to the coffee table just in time for a jump.  During the kick boxing circuit, I tried to get Tyler to 'kick' and 'punch' the air with me but he just wanted to kick the chair, then our dog, then his alligator. . .whatever.  But then he tried to kick Kendall-I picked her up and now it was time to do abs and butts.  During the butt segment while I was on my hands and knees, the children kept climbing and falling off my back, again and again they did this as I again and again brought my leg back and up back and up. . .ok, butt done now I am to roll on my back and work my abs.  Kendall had climbed on my stomach and Tyler was leaning on my knees.  Finally, cool down and stretching.  After the DVD had finished, I just didn't feel like I got the ideal work-out (never gonna lose that 7 pounds that way) so I started the pilates DVD.  This DVD is mainly on the floor and during the next 30 minutes there was not a single whole minute that I did not have a kid climbing on me, jumping off me, or grabbing my leg.  Yup, another DVD and not yet feeling great so I figured I could use the abs work out.  Only 10 minutes in this work-out.  Kids took turns sitting on my stomach and leaning on my legs, but I got a good 10 minutes in this 1. . .who knows, maybe having an extra 20 lbs, give or take, will better benefit my exercises!
     My point?  Kurt goes to the gym 3-4 times a week and a couple miles on our street the other nights.  He gets to exercise in quiet.  My husband is in great shape and it makes me feel bad that I am not.  But, my 'work-outs' consist of jumping around with my children, dancing, laughing, sprawled out playing animals, etc.  When I TRY to do some 'real' exercising, I can't because my children expect me to give them my undivided attention.  Sure, I know that ours and men's physical make-up is different and it is just easier for them to lose weight and get in shape, but I'm not beginning to think that there are many more factors to men getting in shape easier and faster than we do.  If I went to the gym 3 times a week and ran the other nights while he stayed at home attempting to do a DVD while our children clung, grabbed, and cried on him, he'd probably have a more difficult time, too.
     Yup, 7 pounds doesn't seem like a lot, but given all the factors that will hinder me from doing what I need to do to say 'adios' to those, it might as well be 50 pounds!

Parents..

Remember when you were in high school and hanging out with your parents was an obligation? By obligation, I mean something that you may or may not HAVE to do, usually don’t want to do, but that you should do and usually feel guilty if you don’t. Oh, Mom and Dad are going out to dinner and they’ve invited me, I guess I should go type of thing. They obviously need their teenage kids in their boring lives to feel cool. After all, they are clinging to their youth like a 2 year old to a ring pop! Their lives revolve around their kids. When I was in middle and high school, I played sports year round. Although my parents both worked full-time jobs, neither one of them ever missed a game or weekend tournament, they even made most of my away games when I played a little bit in college. Do you remember how guilty you felt leaving them ALONE when you went to college? In my household, I was the last child out of the nest, therefore my brothers left that guilt for their poor little sister to bear. Thanks guys. Anyway, I cried on the first day of college, and not because I was sad to leave home, but I was sad for my parents. How on earth were they ever going to live without me? Would they even talk to each other…and if so what the hell would they talk about? The topic of conversation was always me or the dogs, and with me gone and only one dog left how were they going to make it?
They made it. I remember calling home a few days after I had moved in to college and nobody answered. I called Mom’s cell…no answer. Starting to get nervous. (I have an anxiety issue if you haven’t already noticed by some of the other posts!) Dad’s cell….nothing. Something must be wrong. I called my brother and sister in law who live very near my parents…an answer. Finally…”Have you heard from Mom and Dad?” They hadn’t. I was panicked. Oh my gosh, they must be in the hospital, there must have been a horrific car accident. I was about 30 seconds from calling all of the local hospitals, when my phone rang. It was my mom. They were fine and had been out to eat. Without me. What?
It sure didn’t take long for them to get on with their lives. I’m thinking that “empty nest syndrome” is something that they like us to believe in, but may not really exist!  It’s been a while…a little while…since college now, but as I write this, my parents are in EUROPE! They are there visiting family and probably having the time of their lives, I hope they are! This is a far cry from the days of traveling to different cities to watch me play volleyball…this is EUROPE!
When we are little our parents are our whole world. Daddy is a superhero and all little boys want to marry their moms. And then teenagers become teenagers and parents become lame. When exactly do parents become cool again? I think that magical moment happens when kids become adults and accept the fact that they don’t know EVERYTHING and are able to admit that their parents were actually right. Sometimes I still struggle with this, the admitting part at least! Hope you have the time of your lives in Europe, even though it’s without me! Miss you and love you both!

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Where's the phone book?

There are several reasons why we fall “in like” or even “in love” with someone. I think many women, myself included, have always been attracted to men who are strong and sturdy, well-dressed and groomed, self-sufficient, and know how to keep their house clean (or at least picked up…we all know girl clean and guy clean are two completely different things). I mean, how impressive is it when a guy invites you to his apartment for the first time and it’s neat and clean? Awesome, right?  It’s okay to completely disregard the fact that he probably spent an hour cleaning right before you got there, but who cares…you’re “in like” with him! Remember the butterflies in your stomach, or throughout your entire body for that matter, when your windshield wiper needs to be replaced, or your check engine light comes on and he’s able to fix it? Remember all of this ladies? What happened to this man?
I’ll tell you what happened…you moved in! Apparently there is a chemical in a man’s brain that is activated exactly 9 days after your move in date that triggers him to begin to become dependent. Don’t get me wrong, he is still self-sufficient in many ways. He is still able to fill up his own gas tank, move the furniture when needed, take the clothes out of the dryer (and leave them unfolded in the chair), and shower…most days, although many of these activities now depend solely on your expert “supervision.” I remember one day at a previous job I ignored 3 consecutive phone calls from my husband, until I started to worry that something was wrong. Why would he call me 3 times in a row when he knows I can’t answer the phone unless I’m on break? So, needless to say, I stepped outside to call him back. In a panic he asks, “Where’s the phone book?” Yes, he called me 3 times because he didn’t know where the phone book was! Obviously I had no idea either, I was AT WORK! Shortly after this incident, I told his mother the story. She laughed and told me that before I moved in, she was the one that got the “where’s the phone book?” type of calls! So, maybe it’s not just when we moved in, they just did a better job of hiding it from us when we were still “in like” with them! That’s how they hooked us!
Is it nature or nurture that causes this to happen? Is it him becoming dependent, or is it us just wanting to do things our own way? I guess it’s probably a little of both. I know that I HATE the way he loads the dishwasher, so I do it, and he’s content with wearing wrinkly clothes to work, I’m not so I fold them! As for the phone book, I dunno…look for it yourself!

Monday, June 4, 2012

Redeemed!

      I'm a very blessed woman.   I have 2 beautiful, healthy children and a wonderful husband who is the best daddy to our children.  I have a good job, good health, and a good home. 
     So, why is it, that on occassion I want to kill my husband and run away from home? 
This past weekend we stayed at my mother-in-law's house.  It takes about 3.5 hours to get to Manistee and 3.5 hours home and for some reason my children have something against taking naps in the car. . .so 3.5 hours is a LONG ride! 
     Last night when we got home, my husband received an early Father's Day gift.  A lot of time, effort, and $ went into it and I was really happy that he seemed genuinely happy and excited about it.  Well, we all got inside and Kurt went into the garage to mess around with his bike for a little bit.  While he messed around, I fed the kids, unpacked all of our stuff, put all of our stuff away, loaded the dishwasher, put all my shoes in my closet away ( I had been throwing them in a stack), started a load of laundry, hung up some laundry that I had left over the weekend, folded laundry I had left, picked up toys, picked up magazines, and changed the kiddos into pj's.  It was almost bed time (yay) and Kurt came in from out side and just started barking at me!  We said good night to the babies and then he went back outside.  I started the dishwasher and sat on the couch-then went to the garage and asked Kurt if he was coming in.  He said, 'yes'.  I then told him that he better leave 'grumpy' in the garage because if 'grumpy' entered my house, after an early Father's Day surprise and after I drove home and cleaned up stuff, 'grumpy' would be sleeping in our garage!  He promised grumpy was gone and he was good on his promise.   
     I was still irritated when I went to bed but whatever, I was EXHAUSTED and had no energy to look at him and say, what the HECK was a matter with YOU?!?!?!??!
     Today he brought my beautiful babies to see me at work and he brought me a platter of summer fruit and a beautiful pink rose-and my son said it was 'your favorite color, mom' when they gave it to me!!!  Redeemed!  Totally redeemed, honey!  I know, I probably shouldn't let him off the hook that easily but I am a simple woman and easy to please.  Getting a surprise visit and gifts at work just made my day-Kurt earned points today that might have taken him out of the negative for a while!  Alas, the irritation is gone and all is well in my hum-drum life!

Sweetie vs. Old Lady

About 5 years ago when I met Adam, and as I’ve mentioned before, I was head over heels IN LOVE with this man. We were attached at the hip, and since we had met at work we really never had a break from each other, not that we wanted one.  After all, I was the “cool” girlfriend who was always invited to hang out with his friends and at group events, or didn’t mind if he needed a “guy’s night” and who absolutely loved going to all of his softball tournaments to sit in the outfield with a Mike’s Hard Lemonade in hand chatting with the other girls. I was the cool girlfriend!  How do I know this? I know this because he wanted me to hang out with him, wanted me to hang out with his friends, and wanted me to be at all of his softball games!
At some point I stopped being “the cool girlfriend” and became the “old lady.” At least that’s what he refers to his buddy’s wives, and me when he thinks I can’t hear him talking to his friends when he’s a mere 10 feet away from me. Really? We went from “hun,” and “sweetie” to “my old lady.” It’s hard to remember when exactly this happened and it’s even harder not to believe that it probably happened when we both nervously said “I do” in a church that we never attend and in front of lots of people who we rarely see, nonetheless talk to. Maybe, though, we went from Sweetie to Old lady when my belly grew to the size of a beach ball and my “hormones” caused me to be “emotional” when hanging out with friends and the 90 degree weather at softball tournaments became a lot less fun.
Things have definitely changed a lot in the 5 years since I’ve met Adam, and that cool girl is still here. Sometimes I lose her behind the lack of sleep, being a mom, cleaning the house, folding clothes and arguing about which one of us will read books to the kids before bed, but that cool girl is still here.…somewhere. Our time together now is usually taken up by family outings, or story time, or passing out on the couch from total exhaustion by 7:45 pm. My slim fitting tank tops and short shorts have been replaced by loose fitting, or "flowing" tops, and my shorts have been replaced by mid-length capris.  I miss the days when I was cool ALL OF THE TIME.  I still want to go out and have fun, but we’ll have to learn to disregard the baby puke stuck on my sleeve.  

Friday, June 1, 2012

Is my baby going to die?

Lying in bed the other night I wondered when I will stop being paranoid that my children are going to die. Yes, die…I know that right now you’re thinking about how morbid I am, but give me a second to explain myself because I’m pretty sure that I’m not the only mom that feels this way.
About 4 years ago when I first became pregnant, I was so excited! Well, as many women do, I miscarried very early in this pregnancy. This devastated me, and for weeks I cried to Adam about how I would never be able to have a child. I wasn’t aware at this time that it was so common. It wasn’t long before I was pregnant again with our first child Ben. I remember when I found out, I was so scared that “it” was going to happen again. When I finally worked up the nerve to call my doctor’s office to schedule an appointment the nurse on the other end asked if I was sure that I was pregnant. I said, “I think so.” She then asked, “How do you know?” I hesitantly told her that I had taken 7 pregnancy tests within the last 2 days. She laughed and assured me that I was most likely pregnant. At this point I asked her what I could do, she then reassured me that I could go about my normal life. Of course I didn’t believe her so I was incredibly careful, I stopped running and exercising, ate only raw fruits and vegetables, drank plenty of water, and still worried every day that my baby was going to die…again. Eventually I started running again, but worried every time I ran more than a couple of miles that something bad was going to happen. The months progressed, baby grew, finally as the doctors planned, Ben was ready to be born on his actual due date. The labor, however, wasn’t progressing as anticipated so an emergency C-Section had to be performed, the baby’s heart rate was racing, then dropping, it was all over the place. Was my baby going to die? After he arrived and I was all loopy from the pain meds and epidural, Ben was taken from me and placed on oxygen for 8 hours. I couldn’t see my little man for 8 hours….that’s a long time and the anxiety grew for me. Was my baby going to die? Well, he was fine and we were able to go home from the hospital within a couple of days. Every time he took a nap that lasted more than an hour, I wondered…is my baby going to die? And then…the first time he slept through the night, I woke up at about 3 AM to go place my hand on his back to feel his soft breathing…is my baby going to die?
I’m beginning to feel more comfortable with the idea that my baby is NOT going to die, however I am terrified for the teenage years that I have ahead of me. I remember my mother waiting up for me until I would arrive home or asking me to wake her up when I came in, just so she didn’t have to worry…is my baby going to die? Do we ever stop worrying…is my baby going to die?

7th Street

    A couple weeks ago my parents called me and said they were headed to Grand Rapids for the day and did the kids and I want to go?  They had planned to stop at 2 stores and then, if we went, go to the John Ball Park Zoo.  Kurt was going to be gone all day so I figured, why not?!?!?!  Would be fun and give us all something to do! 
    We all know driving on trips, whether long or short, are not always enjoyable with tots and babes, but, well, 1 hour and 15 minutes would be better than some trips we've taken so I packed toys, DVD's, DVD player, books, diaper bag, and snack bag and got loaded in my dad's truck.  We were half way there when Tyler started asking, "where we goin', mom?"  "are we there yet, mom?" over and over and over-and I finally reached the point that he'd ask and I'd re-ask HIM and he'd answer 'zoo' and 'no' as I had done 1 gazillion times in the last 15 minutes!!!!!
    Well, we got to the first store and my dad said he'd run in really quick and be right back. . . .uh, huh-men do NOT understand that term and should NOT be allowed to use it. . .40 minutes or so later, my dad came walking back to the truck and we all headed down the road. 
My parents decided to skip the second store but thats when I discovered that I had left the baby food and snack bag at home-whoops!  Kendall would be hungry half-way through the zoo, so we stopped at Walgreens so I could run in and grab what I needed.   Yes, I know Walgreens can be pricey but sometime I think I pay more for the mere convenience. . .
    10 minutes later we are headed to the zoo.  Tyler starts asking me, "Mom, where we going?" and I decided to make it a game.  I said, "Tyler we are looking for the zoo and there should be signs.   If you see a sign tell Papa so he knows where to go."  Tyler got this BIG smile on his face and said, "Nana, Papa, Mommy, if you see a sign, yell 'SIGN'!"  And the search began. . .after a couple quick attempts to find a sign then read letters off signs, Tyler said, "Papa, we're looking for 7th Street".  "7th Street?" I said, "Mom, did you tell Tyler the zoo was on 7th Street".  My mom said, "No, it's not on 7th Street".  Hmm, interesting, I don't even KNOW of a 7th Street, I thought.  Again, Tyler says, "Papa, the zoo is on 7th Street and Grover Lane."  At this point I finally get it! hahaha. . ."Tyler, do you mean Sesame Street and Grover Lane?" as I thought, 'when did Tyler start watching Sesame Street?'  Tyler said, "yeah, mom, the zoo is on Grover Lane and Sesame Street!"  Ah, so this is when it starts, huh?  The male species thinking they know exactly where to go and do not need directions, just signs with zoo and Sesame Street.  Makes sense-Dora follows a map to get where she needs to go. . .The wonder that even children's tv shows the distinct difference between male and female.  We arrived at the zoo about 10 minutes later and it wasn't on Sesame Street, Grover Lane, OR 7th Street.

In the truck, leaving the zoo!