In a few hours, I'll be running my first road race in almost two years. It's a 5k benefiting Girls on the Run. They are all about running and healthy self-esteem. This is the perfect race to get on my running feet again. While I walk almost every day and fit in a Pilate's video a few times a week, running always makes me feel at peace. Maybe it's because I picked it up in my 20's when I really, really needed some peace. Or because I used it as a platform to fund raise for a cause close to my heart. Or simply because my running needs are small. A pair of running shoes, the clothes on my back and the outdoors (until I get my own treadmill and then indoors will do as well). I'm not very fast but that's okay. I have goals and they are attainable. And when I reach them, I'll make new ones.
Today's goal: run entire race in less than 35 minutes, enjoy the scenery and company of good friends.
Life is good. And I think signing up for a 5k once a month for awhile will be good for my soul. And when those get really easy, I'll jump to a 10k and so on. There is a community in running and I want to be a part of it again. It's welcoming, familiar, supportive and fun. I know running isn't for everybody, but it is for me.
So here's to running and whatever moves you. And to being happy. Peace.
J
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
De-Friended.
Is that even a word? Maybe not officially, but FB created it amidst their claim to fame for connecting people. I've discovered it hurts to be de-friended, even if you don't really care about the person who did said de-friending. Listen, I've done my fair share of defriending or ignoring friend requests. Not maliciously. I just don't need to be connected to everybody. And I figured that out as my relationship with FB matured. The thing with FB is that it's not necessarily a very mature venue. While in some regards, it's great. Fabulous even. But in other ways, not so much. I hope I haven't inadvertently hurt someone's feelings along my FB journey, though as I mull over my own de-friending, I figure I must have at some point. And.that.sucks. I hate hurting people's feelings (like anyone likes it, right?). But in the vast world of FB, I bet it happens a lot.
As I contemplate on how to continue, I find myself writing, deleting, writing, deleting. And writing some more. Delete.Delete.Delete. Aren't you excited to really be in my head right now (hahahaha).
I'm overthinking. It's a problem, my problem and I need help. My husband gives pretty good advice in the way of "who really gives a sh*&". And while I'm pretty sure I know why I've been defriended, I keep reviewing our last interaction. Over thinker meet Over analyzer. The two go hand in hand, even though they are a terrible match. And all they do together is waste precious time. Because at the end of the day, it's just not that important. Wait, scratch (that), it's not important at all.
And here comes the lesson. Stop wasting time on unimportant things. While I'm pretty sure we all know what's important, sometimes we don't. To be clear, reading my blog falls in the 'important' category if anyone had any doubts or second thoughts. I'm here to remind you (you're welcome), all that matters in this big, big world are the people we love and cherish. The ones who stand by us when we mis-step, mis-speak, mess-up...the ones who make us laugh and vice-versus. The ones who hold our hands (or hair back over the toilet...you know who you are oh loves of my life), the people who truly lift us higher than we ever thought possible. The ones who listen to our woes and support unconditionally. The ones who celebrate all our big and small moments (E is finally napping...yay).
I'm off FB again. First it was for Lent, now it's for me. I don't know how long, maybe forever. I love keeping up with old sorority sisters, roommates and childhood friends. And it's been great for the mom's group I'm a part of, but my life will continue to be full and happy without daily updates. Although I will miss the pictures and hilarious anecdotes about whose kid said what, etc., it tempts me to care about unimportant things.
And I realize how fortunate I am to still be in touch with everyone I ever really, really loved in some way or another. Most importantly, without the help of FB. Shout out to snail mail, phone calls, emails and the best of the best, dates (like karaoke tonight at W'Man's...open invite...please come!).
FB does rock...but this girl needs to roll out for awhile. Word.
J
As I contemplate on how to continue, I find myself writing, deleting, writing, deleting. And writing some more. Delete.Delete.Delete. Aren't you excited to really be in my head right now (hahahaha).
I'm overthinking. It's a problem, my problem and I need help. My husband gives pretty good advice in the way of "who really gives a sh*&". And while I'm pretty sure I know why I've been defriended, I keep reviewing our last interaction. Over thinker meet Over analyzer. The two go hand in hand, even though they are a terrible match. And all they do together is waste precious time. Because at the end of the day, it's just not that important. Wait, scratch (that), it's not important at all.
And here comes the lesson. Stop wasting time on unimportant things. While I'm pretty sure we all know what's important, sometimes we don't. To be clear, reading my blog falls in the 'important' category if anyone had any doubts or second thoughts. I'm here to remind you (you're welcome), all that matters in this big, big world are the people we love and cherish. The ones who stand by us when we mis-step, mis-speak, mess-up...the ones who make us laugh and vice-versus. The ones who hold our hands (or hair back over the toilet...you know who you are oh loves of my life), the people who truly lift us higher than we ever thought possible. The ones who listen to our woes and support unconditionally. The ones who celebrate all our big and small moments (E is finally napping...yay).
I'm off FB again. First it was for Lent, now it's for me. I don't know how long, maybe forever. I love keeping up with old sorority sisters, roommates and childhood friends. And it's been great for the mom's group I'm a part of, but my life will continue to be full and happy without daily updates. Although I will miss the pictures and hilarious anecdotes about whose kid said what, etc., it tempts me to care about unimportant things.
And I realize how fortunate I am to still be in touch with everyone I ever really, really loved in some way or another. Most importantly, without the help of FB. Shout out to snail mail, phone calls, emails and the best of the best, dates (like karaoke tonight at W'Man's...open invite...please come!).
FB does rock...but this girl needs to roll out for awhile. Word.
J
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Some Highlights
Some choice moments of my day. I lost my cell phone. In.my.bra. Wait, what? I literally walked back and forth, searched high and low, inside and out only to discover my precious phone was in.my.bra. Good thing I got a text or the search would've gone on for-ever. I'm not afraid to admit this (b/c I know this happened to someone else. You know who you are.), but I've looked for my phone WHILE I was friggin' talking on it. It only happened once, but good Lord, isn't that enough? Oh, the horror of losing my mind.
Hmmm, what else. I saw two squirrels playing and running and frolicking on the fence. And then the boy got a bit aggressive, 'got his' and the poor girl had to position herself on top of a post to avoid any further clearly unwanted, advances. Listen guy, no means no.
Ben told me B is too young to understand "may I be excused, please" when she wants to leave the table. And that I need to 'lighten up'. And some other things that I've already forgotten b/c I stopped listening when I realized he was trying to offer 'parenting advice'. How about this. Suck it. I know, I know. My maturity level is at a low point right now. I'm tired. It's the end of the day. Blah, blah, blah.
I'm not really that tired. I just feel like giving my H a hard time.
Oh, here's something that irritated me. Olive decapitated my newest little hydrangea plant. I got her (yes, my plants take on genders) for Easter. She was a lovely blue shade. And now she is headless, just a simple stalk, because Olive cannot see anything but rage when Winston the Beagle steps out his backdoor. So my mad dog ran over her. And took.off.her.head. Just like the Queen from Alice in Wonderland. Only not so deliberate. It was an accidental beheading. Enough visual. Do you think you've got it? Because I could keep going. Ann Boleyn just popped in my mind.
It really was a good day. I worked out, saw friends and enjoyed the gorgeous weather. Planted some new ferns and flowers. Made lamb sliders, couscous and sauteed cherry tomatoes (delish). Enjoyed a glass wine, ate outside with the family and Ben did the dishes. Girls went to bed easily (as they should with no freaking naps). All in all, great day.
So what I lost my phone in my dress, or saw some disturbing things happening in nature. Maybe Ben has some useful hints about kids and raising them to be happy, well-adjusted adults (will keep you posted). And hopefully that hydrangea with come back next year, bigger and more beautiful than ever. And I'll put a fence around her. That may or may not be electrified.
I'm not going to put an electrified fence around my plants. But it would keep Olive the hell away from them.
So here's to looking forward to what tomorrow brings. Good, bad, forgetful and fun.
Peace. J
Hmmm, what else. I saw two squirrels playing and running and frolicking on the fence. And then the boy got a bit aggressive, 'got his' and the poor girl had to position herself on top of a post to avoid any further clearly unwanted, advances. Listen guy, no means no.
Ben told me B is too young to understand "may I be excused, please" when she wants to leave the table. And that I need to 'lighten up'. And some other things that I've already forgotten b/c I stopped listening when I realized he was trying to offer 'parenting advice'. How about this. Suck it. I know, I know. My maturity level is at a low point right now. I'm tired. It's the end of the day. Blah, blah, blah.
I'm not really that tired. I just feel like giving my H a hard time.
Oh, here's something that irritated me. Olive decapitated my newest little hydrangea plant. I got her (yes, my plants take on genders) for Easter. She was a lovely blue shade. And now she is headless, just a simple stalk, because Olive cannot see anything but rage when Winston the Beagle steps out his backdoor. So my mad dog ran over her. And took.off.her.head. Just like the Queen from Alice in Wonderland. Only not so deliberate. It was an accidental beheading. Enough visual. Do you think you've got it? Because I could keep going. Ann Boleyn just popped in my mind.
It really was a good day. I worked out, saw friends and enjoyed the gorgeous weather. Planted some new ferns and flowers. Made lamb sliders, couscous and sauteed cherry tomatoes (delish). Enjoyed a glass wine, ate outside with the family and Ben did the dishes. Girls went to bed easily (as they should with no freaking naps). All in all, great day.
So what I lost my phone in my dress, or saw some disturbing things happening in nature. Maybe Ben has some useful hints about kids and raising them to be happy, well-adjusted adults (will keep you posted). And hopefully that hydrangea with come back next year, bigger and more beautiful than ever. And I'll put a fence around her. That may or may not be electrified.
I'm not going to put an electrified fence around my plants. But it would keep Olive the hell away from them.
So here's to looking forward to what tomorrow brings. Good, bad, forgetful and fun.
Peace. J
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Two Wilted Roses
My husband brought home flowers yesterday. In less than an hour, two roses were wilted. And it really pissed me off. The rest of the arrangement still flourished, but all I could see were those two wilted roses. What.a.brat, some of you may be thinking (remember, no judging).
To be fair, I was mad yesterday. Mad at the world. Today is Mother's Day and my family is missing a very important mom. So, I was angry.
But those two wilted roses represent something bigger upon reflection. I'm going heavy today so watch out. If you don't feel like being reflective, please stop reading and go do something way more fun, like drinking champagne (wait, I'm doing that too).
I spend so much time keeping everything just right, I freak out if anything goes wrong or isn't the picture of perfection. The flowers were beautiful, yet I couldn't appreciate them. All I could see were the imperfections. Translate that to child-raising and/or being in a relationship and we've got trouble. Who can live up to perfect expectations. Not me and when I fall short (which I often do), I am a mess. A punching bag. I'm the bag and the one punching. What's up with that? Oh am I a therapists dream right now.
I mean, who really cares about two wilted roses. Is the world going to end? Probably not...unless it's 2012 and then, maybe.
But seriously. It's so much nicer to view the world and see what is right first and notice (just notice) what's not so right with a softer eye. My house may never live up to my expectations. As in, it will never be just the way I want it. I have two kids, a husband and dog. And that group isn't always on the same page as far as keeping house goes. But isn't it more important that my kids laughed and played and lived, rather than moped (please, do you ever see Emerson moping?) and cleaned and cried.
I like things organized. I like things neat and orderly. It gives me a sense of control over my world. But I want my kids to grow up with a balanced sense of neat/orderly versus fun/games. And an understanding that we cannot always control our environment or others, but do have ownership over ourselves and what we put out into the world.
Two wilted roses. Really, that's a day breaker? Here's a game changer. Take them out and hang them upside down or put them inside a heavy book. Dried flowers are so beautiful. It's always nice to take something perceived as less than perfect and change the perspective. Something we are all capable of even on our worst days.
I love my life. My husband made me breakfast today. And bought me champagne and the most beautiful flowering vine. And a sweet card. And gave me two of the most perfect children a person could hope for. So take that two wilted roses. Who knew two little red roses could have such an impact on a person?
So here's to seeing what's really important and only 'just noticing' the rest.
Love to all the moms, grand mom's, and one day will be moms...J
To be fair, I was mad yesterday. Mad at the world. Today is Mother's Day and my family is missing a very important mom. So, I was angry.
But those two wilted roses represent something bigger upon reflection. I'm going heavy today so watch out. If you don't feel like being reflective, please stop reading and go do something way more fun, like drinking champagne (wait, I'm doing that too).
I spend so much time keeping everything just right, I freak out if anything goes wrong or isn't the picture of perfection. The flowers were beautiful, yet I couldn't appreciate them. All I could see were the imperfections. Translate that to child-raising and/or being in a relationship and we've got trouble. Who can live up to perfect expectations. Not me and when I fall short (which I often do), I am a mess. A punching bag. I'm the bag and the one punching. What's up with that? Oh am I a therapists dream right now.
I mean, who really cares about two wilted roses. Is the world going to end? Probably not...unless it's 2012 and then, maybe.
But seriously. It's so much nicer to view the world and see what is right first and notice (just notice) what's not so right with a softer eye. My house may never live up to my expectations. As in, it will never be just the way I want it. I have two kids, a husband and dog. And that group isn't always on the same page as far as keeping house goes. But isn't it more important that my kids laughed and played and lived, rather than moped (please, do you ever see Emerson moping?) and cleaned and cried.
I like things organized. I like things neat and orderly. It gives me a sense of control over my world. But I want my kids to grow up with a balanced sense of neat/orderly versus fun/games. And an understanding that we cannot always control our environment or others, but do have ownership over ourselves and what we put out into the world.
Two wilted roses. Really, that's a day breaker? Here's a game changer. Take them out and hang them upside down or put them inside a heavy book. Dried flowers are so beautiful. It's always nice to take something perceived as less than perfect and change the perspective. Something we are all capable of even on our worst days.
I love my life. My husband made me breakfast today. And bought me champagne and the most beautiful flowering vine. And a sweet card. And gave me two of the most perfect children a person could hope for. So take that two wilted roses. Who knew two little red roses could have such an impact on a person?
So here's to seeing what's really important and only 'just noticing' the rest.
Love to all the moms, grand mom's, and one day will be moms...J
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Stupid, Lately
Wow. Do I feel like an A+ idiot right now. I just replied to some terrible news on the local Hunt Meadow message board. A terrible "tradegy" happened. Wait, what? I realized my error as I changed dear Emerson's diaper upstairs. I couldn't get downstairs fast enough to delete the post and rewrite one with words that had 4 letters or less. I mean, those are pretty hard to screw up (not impossible, but much harder).
Ever since I had kids, I've lost precious room upstairs. It's like my brain doesn't have enough space to hold my education, work experience AND the latest Mo Willams children's book. Are you serious?
I forget names constantly (not yours, well maybe sometimes).
I went to a playdate yesterday and had to go the back way due to traffic. I ended up back on Route 50 going towards Annapolis. The playdate was in Crofton. I go every week. But since I went the back way, my auto pilot took over (apparently this other self takes over whenever it feels necessary) and when she saw the exit off 424 for 50, off we went. In my defense, I was not on the phone but listening to the chatter of two toddlers (had little Gwen with me) and a sweet babe in the back. Seriously though. What the hell is going on?
I still have moments of brilliance (yes, brilliance. Please stop laughing and just indulge me. P.S. I almost misspelled 'indulge'). But they are fleeting and seem to come less and less. And I read. And watch CNN. And cool travel and cooking channels. I just don't retain information unless it's really, really important (like the plot line of Vampire Diaries or when my next hair cut is...May 14th, if you're wondering).
Do I just resign myself that kids literally take everything? Time, energy, money, all our love and affection...sanity. I mean, we did it to our parents. Isn't this just retribution. Do our parents secretly (or right in our faces) celebrate every trip-up, misspelled word, or 'wrong' auto-pilot move.
And don't get me wrong. It's worth it. I love my kids. And the joys of raising them. I just didn't know that the smartest choices I've ever made (next to marrying my husband) could make me so freaking dumb.
So here's to embracing the highs and lows of raising kids. And to hoping the brain cells come back...even if it's just one at a time.
Word. J
PS - my husband just gave me great material for next post. are.you.serious?
PPS - just did spell check. misspelled brilliance. typical.
Ever since I had kids, I've lost precious room upstairs. It's like my brain doesn't have enough space to hold my education, work experience AND the latest Mo Willams children's book. Are you serious?
I forget names constantly (not yours, well maybe sometimes).
I went to a playdate yesterday and had to go the back way due to traffic. I ended up back on Route 50 going towards Annapolis. The playdate was in Crofton. I go every week. But since I went the back way, my auto pilot took over (apparently this other self takes over whenever it feels necessary) and when she saw the exit off 424 for 50, off we went. In my defense, I was not on the phone but listening to the chatter of two toddlers (had little Gwen with me) and a sweet babe in the back. Seriously though. What the hell is going on?
I still have moments of brilliance (yes, brilliance. Please stop laughing and just indulge me. P.S. I almost misspelled 'indulge'). But they are fleeting and seem to come less and less. And I read. And watch CNN. And cool travel and cooking channels. I just don't retain information unless it's really, really important (like the plot line of Vampire Diaries or when my next hair cut is...May 14th, if you're wondering).
Do I just resign myself that kids literally take everything? Time, energy, money, all our love and affection...sanity. I mean, we did it to our parents. Isn't this just retribution. Do our parents secretly (or right in our faces) celebrate every trip-up, misspelled word, or 'wrong' auto-pilot move.
And don't get me wrong. It's worth it. I love my kids. And the joys of raising them. I just didn't know that the smartest choices I've ever made (next to marrying my husband) could make me so freaking dumb.
So here's to embracing the highs and lows of raising kids. And to hoping the brain cells come back...even if it's just one at a time.
Word. J
PS - my husband just gave me great material for next post. are.you.serious?
PPS - just did spell check. misspelled brilliance. typical.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Do you ever feel like...
you don't really want your kid to act like, I don't know, a freaking kid? Today was one of those days. My allergies decided to up the ante and bring in a full blown sinus infection, like they needed back-up or something. Like they really wanted to make sure I still felt like ass as the rain washed some of their poison, I mean pollen, away. So my head wanted to explode from the moment I jumped out of bed. I literally jumped because B screamed when she realized her door was shut instead of slightly opened as per normal. She went back to sleep for a short bit and then was up and at 'em around 6:45. And daughter #2 joined in shortly thereafter. So there I was, outnumbered and utterly miserable.
And it rained and rained and rained. Normally it's perfect movie weather. But instead of making my life a little bit easier, I decided if I was miserable so would everyone around me (aren't you glad we didn't hang out this morning). So I didn't turn on the TV. So stupid. Because I didn't want to hang out either. I didn't want to play or entertain or read or participate in anything. I was basically a real peach.
Thankfully, we did have plans to meet my mom for lunch. We met at 10:30 and enjoyed an earlier meal instead. My mood improved despite B's attempts to trip me up with her impatience, demands and surly looks. We survived the day with two time-outs, two movies (Bambi and Despicable Me) and a delicious pizza from Squisito.
Their are no sick days. And kids are going to act their age. Sometimes I act their age too.
I'm finishing this post from my couch the next morning. So far, so good. It is only 7:45, but I have high hopes for today. Right now, the girls are playing in the pack-n-play and I'm going to make some coffee. Everyone's acting accordingly. E like the happy 8 month she is...B like the happy (until she doesn't get her way) almost 4 yo...and me, well right now I'm still acting like a responsible, happy adult. Here's to keeping it that way!
Peace. J
And it rained and rained and rained. Normally it's perfect movie weather. But instead of making my life a little bit easier, I decided if I was miserable so would everyone around me (aren't you glad we didn't hang out this morning). So I didn't turn on the TV. So stupid. Because I didn't want to hang out either. I didn't want to play or entertain or read or participate in anything. I was basically a real peach.
Thankfully, we did have plans to meet my mom for lunch. We met at 10:30 and enjoyed an earlier meal instead. My mood improved despite B's attempts to trip me up with her impatience, demands and surly looks. We survived the day with two time-outs, two movies (Bambi and Despicable Me) and a delicious pizza from Squisito.
Their are no sick days. And kids are going to act their age. Sometimes I act their age too.
I'm finishing this post from my couch the next morning. So far, so good. It is only 7:45, but I have high hopes for today. Right now, the girls are playing in the pack-n-play and I'm going to make some coffee. Everyone's acting accordingly. E like the happy 8 month she is...B like the happy (until she doesn't get her way) almost 4 yo...and me, well right now I'm still acting like a responsible, happy adult. Here's to keeping it that way!
Peace. J
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Judgey McJudgerson
I feel like that could be my name lately. I've been spending WAY too much energy thinking about what is quote BEST unquote for some people around me. Don't worry, I'm not talking about you (or am I?). We're all guilty of it (please tell me I'm not alone in this uphill battle to mind my own business). I just want my loved ones to be h-a-p-p-y. Like, really really happy. And it's like I've forgot that every one's journey is different. And unless I have magical powers I am unaware of (that would be so cool), I have no idea what it feels like to be anyone else but me.
One of my favorite Emerson quotes (the author, not my baby) says "what I must do, is all that concerns me; not what the people think". It's from his essay on Self-Reliance and it's a must read. He goes on to comment on the hardships of following that rule because there are always people who "think they know what your duty is better than you know it". Ain't that the truth? Oh wait, that's me right now. Sh*@.
The thing is, I've made this great life out of gigantic mistakes. I mean, I broke an f'ing engagement a few days before Christmas (and his birthday) so I would know if Ben was the One or not. That being said, I hadn't spoken to or seen Ben in forever (other than to spill my engagement news), so I was working on faith that everything would work out. And that it was far better to be alone, than in the wrong relationship. But I was in that relationship for FIVE years. Do you think my friends and family had an opinion? Absolutely. They even shared it from time to time. But every single one supported my decision to marry he who shall remain nameless. Even though it was a terrible decision. They let me be. And I love them for it. No one abandoned me. Ever.
In the end, I make good choices. I just wait till I'm about to figuratively fall off an f'ing cliff and then I'm all like, wait, what. Nope, time to make a different choice. And in that instant, I'm brave. I dig in, get comfortable with being uncomfortable and change my course.
It wasn't easy and still isn't, but it's where I grew/grow the most. It's where everyone grows...it's just a matter of pushing through and finding comfort once more. And instead of standing back and doling out advice like a "know it all" (who really likes 'those' people anyways), I'm going to reach out my hand instead.
It's hard to keep my mouth shut when I see loved ones making what I perceive to be 'bad' choices or not living their 'best' life (what up Oprah). Key words, what I perceive. And my perception is flawed because it's mine, not theirs. And who knows where those 'bad' choices will lead them. Mine led me here. To a wonderful marriage, two beautiful children, a lovely home and amazing friends (old and new). I made choices that ultimately landed me in my dream life. I own them. Every.single.one.
So here's to choices, good and bad. And to keeping judgement at bay.
Peace and love. J
One of my favorite Emerson quotes (the author, not my baby) says "what I must do, is all that concerns me; not what the people think". It's from his essay on Self-Reliance and it's a must read. He goes on to comment on the hardships of following that rule because there are always people who "think they know what your duty is better than you know it". Ain't that the truth? Oh wait, that's me right now. Sh*@.
The thing is, I've made this great life out of gigantic mistakes. I mean, I broke an f'ing engagement a few days before Christmas (and his birthday) so I would know if Ben was the One or not. That being said, I hadn't spoken to or seen Ben in forever (other than to spill my engagement news), so I was working on faith that everything would work out. And that it was far better to be alone, than in the wrong relationship. But I was in that relationship for FIVE years. Do you think my friends and family had an opinion? Absolutely. They even shared it from time to time. But every single one supported my decision to marry he who shall remain nameless. Even though it was a terrible decision. They let me be. And I love them for it. No one abandoned me. Ever.
In the end, I make good choices. I just wait till I'm about to figuratively fall off an f'ing cliff and then I'm all like, wait, what. Nope, time to make a different choice. And in that instant, I'm brave. I dig in, get comfortable with being uncomfortable and change my course.
It wasn't easy and still isn't, but it's where I grew/grow the most. It's where everyone grows...it's just a matter of pushing through and finding comfort once more. And instead of standing back and doling out advice like a "know it all" (who really likes 'those' people anyways), I'm going to reach out my hand instead.
It's hard to keep my mouth shut when I see loved ones making what I perceive to be 'bad' choices or not living their 'best' life (what up Oprah). Key words, what I perceive. And my perception is flawed because it's mine, not theirs. And who knows where those 'bad' choices will lead them. Mine led me here. To a wonderful marriage, two beautiful children, a lovely home and amazing friends (old and new). I made choices that ultimately landed me in my dream life. I own them. Every.single.one.
So here's to choices, good and bad. And to keeping judgement at bay.
Peace and love. J
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Pour, reheat, repeat
I think I warm my coffee up a minimum of 3 times before I actually finish the cup. Maybe it's because I prefer to sip at a leisurely pace. Or maybe it's because of the multiple distractions and interruptions from my darling children. We've been up for about two hours and it feels like so much longer. I will attribute that to the two naps I took last night versus getting a good night's rest. I went to Whole Foods last night from 9:00 - 10:00, came home, unpacked groceries, cleaned out fridge, emptied and filled dishwasher and made a cup of chamomile tea before going to bed at around midnight. Emerson sensed this and woke up around 3am...and then again at 7am.
Kids can sense weakness around the same level of accuracy as a drug-sniffing dog. Hence why today's cup of coffee is so very important. And why I will continue to pour, reheat and repeat until I feel like coffee is literally running through my veins. I gotta keep up my game or daughter #1 will sniff out my weakness and well, that would really stink up the day for everyone involved. I'll lose my temper, she'll tell me not to "well at her", I'll yell at her, everyone (including the dog) will go to time-out and Ben will come home to what looks like a war-torn country.
So here's to coffee and avoiding mini-world wars. Time to shower, get the girls together and roll to my dermatologist appointment. Then off to an egg-trodinary Easter get together with good friends. Who I'm quite sure can relate to the importance of coffee, regardless of how many times it gets reheated in a day.
Word. J
Kids can sense weakness around the same level of accuracy as a drug-sniffing dog. Hence why today's cup of coffee is so very important. And why I will continue to pour, reheat and repeat until I feel like coffee is literally running through my veins. I gotta keep up my game or daughter #1 will sniff out my weakness and well, that would really stink up the day for everyone involved. I'll lose my temper, she'll tell me not to "well at her", I'll yell at her, everyone (including the dog) will go to time-out and Ben will come home to what looks like a war-torn country.
So here's to coffee and avoiding mini-world wars. Time to shower, get the girls together and roll to my dermatologist appointment. Then off to an egg-trodinary Easter get together with good friends. Who I'm quite sure can relate to the importance of coffee, regardless of how many times it gets reheated in a day.
Word. J
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Day 1
I think I was up half the night. Tossing and turning in anticipation of my intentional 5am wake up call. I think my excitement (if you want to call it that) woke the baby because she started to make some noise as I was walking out the door. I could've thrown in the towel right there but I'm in training now. So I fed sweet E. And then quietly rolled out the front door with tiny Angel in tow.
And.I.ran. I was amazed my legs still worked. I admit I had to really concentrate on my form, but who cares? I went running. And it felt so unbelievably good. While I only went out for 15 - 20 minutes (didn't want to push it after all this time), I ended with stretching, push-ups, triceps dips, and step ups on my back stairs. I even did 10 real sit-ups. What a joke that was...my abs were like, "what the...". Baby steps, right?
All in all, I feel good. And I still have some time alone. I'm going to make a pot of coffee and read. This is good for my soul. Here's hoping the high lasts (come on endorphins) and daughter #1 wakes up in a good mood.
And let me just add this. It feels good to say I'm going to do something for me and actually do it. Carving out time each day just for me is up to me. Know what I mean?
Word. J
And.I.ran. I was amazed my legs still worked. I admit I had to really concentrate on my form, but who cares? I went running. And it felt so unbelievably good. While I only went out for 15 - 20 minutes (didn't want to push it after all this time), I ended with stretching, push-ups, triceps dips, and step ups on my back stairs. I even did 10 real sit-ups. What a joke that was...my abs were like, "what the...". Baby steps, right?
All in all, I feel good. And I still have some time alone. I'm going to make a pot of coffee and read. This is good for my soul. Here's hoping the high lasts (come on endorphins) and daughter #1 wakes up in a good mood.
And let me just add this. It feels good to say I'm going to do something for me and actually do it. Carving out time each day just for me is up to me. Know what I mean?
Word. J
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Mornings
in the Ricker household depend on two things. My mood following a close second to my #1's. Let's face it, daughter #2 is always happy so we know where she stands each and every sunrise (and sunset and every minute in between).
I guess the weather and our plans also shape the day ahead. Today it's colder, rainy and all around blah. We do have plans to visit my mom which will highly entertain B and maybe motivate me to hit Ikea since we're out that way.
Okay, so right now as I type, B is floundering about on the couch. Maybe it wouldn't bother me, but I'm sitting right next to her. She's glaring at me through her longish bangs, half-smiling at her sister and slowly eating her gummy vitamins, while also catching up on today's latest news via CNN. Her body language is all over the place and generally annoying to me. And the whine. Oh it's enough to make me open a bottle of actual wine to endure her whine. But it's only 7:52 am and would be frowned upon by most (not my friends, but probably CPS. Just a guess). Quick break to get B some cereal. No milk.
Okay, both daughters happy.
I used to be a morning person. I loved getting up early, hitting the gym and heading to work. Yes technically I can still have that same routine. So why is it so damn hard to get up at 5:00 am, workout for an hour, shower, feed & change E and have a cup of coffee with my husband before he leaves for work? Is it as simple as treating being at home like I'm "going to the office". Just a mindset change? I will say this, if I got an hour workout 5 out of 7 days, my mood would swing heavily in a very happy direction.
And while I can't control my 3.5 yo (not even right now as she intentionally drops her cereal on the ground...don't worry, I already 'warned' her to stop...lotta good that did), I can control me. So I think it's about time for an experiment. I will make a concerted effort to get up 5 out of the next 7 days and workout for 30 minutes.
And smile more in the morning. Maybe say 'yes' more than growling no. And threaten less...and, and, and.
Well, let's start with some workouts and the rest will come naturally. At least, that's my hope.
Peace. J
I guess the weather and our plans also shape the day ahead. Today it's colder, rainy and all around blah. We do have plans to visit my mom which will highly entertain B and maybe motivate me to hit Ikea since we're out that way.
Okay, so right now as I type, B is floundering about on the couch. Maybe it wouldn't bother me, but I'm sitting right next to her. She's glaring at me through her longish bangs, half-smiling at her sister and slowly eating her gummy vitamins, while also catching up on today's latest news via CNN. Her body language is all over the place and generally annoying to me. And the whine. Oh it's enough to make me open a bottle of actual wine to endure her whine. But it's only 7:52 am and would be frowned upon by most (not my friends, but probably CPS. Just a guess). Quick break to get B some cereal. No milk.
Okay, both daughters happy.
I used to be a morning person. I loved getting up early, hitting the gym and heading to work. Yes technically I can still have that same routine. So why is it so damn hard to get up at 5:00 am, workout for an hour, shower, feed & change E and have a cup of coffee with my husband before he leaves for work? Is it as simple as treating being at home like I'm "going to the office". Just a mindset change? I will say this, if I got an hour workout 5 out of 7 days, my mood would swing heavily in a very happy direction.
And while I can't control my 3.5 yo (not even right now as she intentionally drops her cereal on the ground...don't worry, I already 'warned' her to stop...lotta good that did), I can control me. So I think it's about time for an experiment. I will make a concerted effort to get up 5 out of the next 7 days and workout for 30 minutes.
And smile more in the morning. Maybe say 'yes' more than growling no. And threaten less...and, and, and.
Well, let's start with some workouts and the rest will come naturally. At least, that's my hope.
Peace. J
Friday, April 8, 2011
So...
it's been awhile. I guess you could say life got serious after my last post. My mother-in-law passed away on March 16th, 2011. She lost her battle with lung cancer at the tender age of 54. While I still find humor in day to day life, there hasn't been much inspiration to write. But I need to get back in it, so here goes.
Some things I learned from sweet Genia:
~ you can snuggle with your children well into adulthood
~ affection is a beautiful way to communicate love
~ big Italian meals transcend calories and fat content
~ extended family dinners should come back into style
~ the vows "in sickness and in health" really do mean something (Greg)
~ wearing "yummy" clothes is the best (translation - comfortable)
~ in the end, all that matters is people know how much you love them...the details are nice...but the love part...that's the real sustenance.
While we can't adequately fill in the void that inevitably came after Genia's death, I am grateful for the memories. I am grateful for her love.
The words are still not coming as easily as I'd like...so more to come later.
Peace and love - J
Some things I learned from sweet Genia:
~ you can snuggle with your children well into adulthood
~ affection is a beautiful way to communicate love
~ big Italian meals transcend calories and fat content
~ extended family dinners should come back into style
~ the vows "in sickness and in health" really do mean something (Greg)
~ wearing "yummy" clothes is the best (translation - comfortable)
~ in the end, all that matters is people know how much you love them...the details are nice...but the love part...that's the real sustenance.
While we can't adequately fill in the void that inevitably came after Genia's death, I am grateful for the memories. I am grateful for her love.
The words are still not coming as easily as I'd like...so more to come later.
Peace and love - J
Monday, March 14, 2011
Anyone missing a shadow...
because I have one to spare. At least, that's what it feels like. My 3.5 yo is competing with my actual shadow for top billing. What is up with that? No one told me that when I had kids, I would forfeit any and all privacy for the "fill in the blank"...how long does this last? Is this, like, forever? Or just until they move out? Or until they get actual lives of their own? And then do I turn into their shadow? Ironic, huh?
I get my privacy back and then infringe on theirs (for their own good, of course).
Some days, mostly mornings, I just want a few minutes. To do mundane things, like pee or shower or write in this all important blog. But I rarely get a few minutes, especially since B dropped her afternoon nap. Now it's on like donkey kong every freakin' day. I start looking at the clock around 3 or so, counting done until Ben comes home, slaps my hand like WWF and takes over for a bit. Who knew how precious an hour or so is until it's gone?
Some of you may be thinking, "there's always post-bedtime privacy". You are correct. However, I am wiped out by the end of the day and almost (I said 'almost) don't enjoy it. I feel ready for bed by 8:30/9:00 most nights. What is going on with that? I'm basically getting bitched around by my kids during the day and my age at night. Now, I'm not saying I'm old old (turn 34 on Friday), just that my body is showing signs of age. Like not being able to recover from late nights easily or the crows feet nesting nicely around my eyes. Okay, back to my original point. As I get older, I want to go to bed earlier, leaving less time for "post-bedtime" alone time. SOOOOOOO...
The moral of this story is carving out time for yourself is important, if not an impossible task. Maybe I need to wake up 30 minutes earlier for some pre-wake up silence and reflection. Or incorporate the hot yoga class I grouponed. Or start running/walking in the evenings after Ben gets home. Anything will do. Moms tend to sacrifice their time for the good of the family, when in reality, it would be better for the family if moms reclaimed their time.
So, here's to finding some time for ourselves each and every day. And to loving all our shadows.
Peace, J
I get my privacy back and then infringe on theirs (for their own good, of course).
Some days, mostly mornings, I just want a few minutes. To do mundane things, like pee or shower or write in this all important blog. But I rarely get a few minutes, especially since B dropped her afternoon nap. Now it's on like donkey kong every freakin' day. I start looking at the clock around 3 or so, counting done until Ben comes home, slaps my hand like WWF and takes over for a bit. Who knew how precious an hour or so is until it's gone?
Some of you may be thinking, "there's always post-bedtime privacy". You are correct. However, I am wiped out by the end of the day and almost (I said 'almost) don't enjoy it. I feel ready for bed by 8:30/9:00 most nights. What is going on with that? I'm basically getting bitched around by my kids during the day and my age at night. Now, I'm not saying I'm old old (turn 34 on Friday), just that my body is showing signs of age. Like not being able to recover from late nights easily or the crows feet nesting nicely around my eyes. Okay, back to my original point. As I get older, I want to go to bed earlier, leaving less time for "post-bedtime" alone time. SOOOOOOO...
The moral of this story is carving out time for yourself is important, if not an impossible task. Maybe I need to wake up 30 minutes earlier for some pre-wake up silence and reflection. Or incorporate the hot yoga class I grouponed. Or start running/walking in the evenings after Ben gets home. Anything will do. Moms tend to sacrifice their time for the good of the family, when in reality, it would be better for the family if moms reclaimed their time.
So, here's to finding some time for ourselves each and every day. And to loving all our shadows.
Peace, J
Friday, March 11, 2011
Oh What a Night...
was one of my favorite songs in high school. It brings back memories of Chinese fire drills and parties and laughter (and keg stands, shots and just general drunkenness). My Friday nights used to be so wild. Not so much anymore. Now I work double duty since my H works a double at his 'other' job. At least we both get to drink at our respective establishments.
So when I head up to bed is usually about the time I use to head out. I don't miss hangovers. I don't miss the shots that induced the hangovers. Or other alcoholic beverages ingested in excess. But I do miss the dancing. A lot. I.love.to.dance. Like, for realsie. I'm not saying I missed my calling or anything. I don't belong in any music videos or backing up singers on tour BUT I still love to shake it. Dancing makes me happy. Like, really, really happy.
I try to have music on as much as possible when I'm home. And then get B to dance around our living room. I think I passed along my dancing genes because she also likes to move and groove. Wonder if E picked any up as well. Guess only time will tell.
My hope is that my dynamic duo doesn't find me too embarrassing later in life...because I plan to dance till the very end. To rap music at that. Word. For realsie.
So maybe I don't party like a rockstar anymore (let's not count the recent happy hour that turned into happy hours...), but I should plan more nights out dancing. I think it's safe to say I would be a better mom, a better wife if I had more dancing in my life (I think I just came up with a new song lyric...check out that sweet rhyme). Did I just have an Oprah "ah ha" moment? Think so.
So here's to the little things that make us happy...and to actually doing them. I'm planning a dance party sometime soon...O'Briens or Federal House...here we come. Or maybe I'll get crazy and roll to DC. Whaaattttt.
Peace. J
So when I head up to bed is usually about the time I use to head out. I don't miss hangovers. I don't miss the shots that induced the hangovers. Or other alcoholic beverages ingested in excess. But I do miss the dancing. A lot. I.love.to.dance. Like, for realsie. I'm not saying I missed my calling or anything. I don't belong in any music videos or backing up singers on tour BUT I still love to shake it. Dancing makes me happy. Like, really, really happy.
I try to have music on as much as possible when I'm home. And then get B to dance around our living room. I think I passed along my dancing genes because she also likes to move and groove. Wonder if E picked any up as well. Guess only time will tell.
My hope is that my dynamic duo doesn't find me too embarrassing later in life...because I plan to dance till the very end. To rap music at that. Word. For realsie.
So maybe I don't party like a rockstar anymore (let's not count the recent happy hour that turned into happy hours...), but I should plan more nights out dancing. I think it's safe to say I would be a better mom, a better wife if I had more dancing in my life (I think I just came up with a new song lyric...check out that sweet rhyme). Did I just have an Oprah "ah ha" moment? Think so.
So here's to the little things that make us happy...and to actually doing them. I'm planning a dance party sometime soon...O'Briens or Federal House...here we come. Or maybe I'll get crazy and roll to DC. Whaaattttt.
Peace. J
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Seriously.
What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?”
― George Eliot
I strongly believe in the above statement. So you can imagine my dismay when my loving CFO pulled a typical "CFO/H" move this morning. I want to take the new laptop on our very last minute, traveling without him, but with our two kids, trip this weekend. It is lighter. Period. And instead of just saying two of the most treasured words in the English language (when put together), "of course", he informed me that the difference between the two laptops was "about a pound". Leaving me to interpret that I should take the heavier one because a pound really isn't that big of a deal. Did I mention the new laptop is smaller AND lighter. Oh, and the fact that I'm traveling with a 6 month old (who requires me to CARRY her) and a 3.5 yo who has NEVER flown before. So the motto is "the easier the better". Yet instead of readily agreeing, said CFO has to be glib. Really? This.is.not.the.time. Just give me the f*^%ing laptop, upload a gazillion (or just a few) movies and surprise me with a thoughtful bunch of flowers for my never ending, put a smile on my face (forced) flexibility. Don't BS about a pound, because when traveling with two kids (again, one being a carry-on item), everything makes a difference. This isn't rocket science. It's obvious, in your face sh*#. So get it together loving CFO because this President is pulling rank. You make my life easier. I make your life easier. It's.just.that.simple.
So here's to you Ms. Eliot and your words to live by.
Word. J
― George Eliot
I strongly believe in the above statement. So you can imagine my dismay when my loving CFO pulled a typical "CFO/H" move this morning. I want to take the new laptop on our very last minute, traveling without him, but with our two kids, trip this weekend. It is lighter. Period. And instead of just saying two of the most treasured words in the English language (when put together), "of course", he informed me that the difference between the two laptops was "about a pound". Leaving me to interpret that I should take the heavier one because a pound really isn't that big of a deal. Did I mention the new laptop is smaller AND lighter. Oh, and the fact that I'm traveling with a 6 month old (who requires me to CARRY her) and a 3.5 yo who has NEVER flown before. So the motto is "the easier the better". Yet instead of readily agreeing, said CFO has to be glib. Really? This.is.not.the.time. Just give me the f*^%ing laptop, upload a gazillion (or just a few) movies and surprise me with a thoughtful bunch of flowers for my never ending, put a smile on my face (forced) flexibility. Don't BS about a pound, because when traveling with two kids (again, one being a carry-on item), everything makes a difference. This isn't rocket science. It's obvious, in your face sh*#. So get it together loving CFO because this President is pulling rank. You make my life easier. I make your life easier. It's.just.that.simple.
So here's to you Ms. Eliot and your words to live by.
Word. J
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Running a Business
My business feels like its failing. I run it out of my home. I have three employees (four if you count the beta fish, but he's pretty much useless, so let's keep it at three for now) and a CFO. I, of course, am the President. The thing is I pretty much have to do everything since my employees are 3.5 yo, 6 mo old and a Rat Terrier. My CFO is amazing, but works another job full-time leaving little time for this business at home. This feels like it should be easier, but it's not. Every day holds new surprises. Trying to anticipate the needs of my employees, pray that the Rat Terrier doesn't sue for negligence if she has yet another seizure, and keep the business running smoothly is nearly impossible. Throw in some heavy life sh*#, and I don't even know where to start each day. Can you relate? Or is it just me?
I can't seem to keep up with the demands of this job. The endless laundry, cleaning, organizing and reorganizing, etc etc. Did I mention I run this business 24 hours a day/7 days a week. There are no sick days. No easy vacations, as employees must be taken care of in my absence. And I don't feel like I'm allowed to have 'bad' or 'off' days since I directly influence those below me. I still have them, but I feel extra terrible from the guilt of having them.
This particular job lacks concrete direction and objectives. It requires a keen sense of self-discipline, patience, flexibility, ability to have a sense of humor despite feeling anything but humorous, and to see both the big and small picture of each and every day. This job lays the groundwork for my small employees to eventually run their own businesses. Oh, the self-induced pressure. It really is since as long as I lead by example (and feel confident that it's a good example MOST of the time), the kids will be alright.
So I should probably go and get some much need work done. I'm going to make a concerted effort to put a smile on my face and dig deep for that sense of humor I mentioned earlier. I feel I'm suffereing from one of my worst qualities as of late ~ taking myself WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. It's an affliction I've suffered from, well, for as long as I can remember (which honestly isn't that long since I have a terrible memory).
The moral of this story is...lighten up. The business isn't actually going to fail, at least not in the long-term. And there are worse things than not getting the laundry done (or put away), having a messy workspace AKA playroom or being surrounded by pissed employees. At least my fellow co-workers running their own businesses are amazing, always make me laugh and are there to lift me up when I've fallen (like hard, head-first into concrete...or at least, that's what it feels like).
So, here's to other "Presidents"...while we make NO money and receive NO benefits (like health, retirement, etc)...we still have the best job (most days).
Peace. J
I can't seem to keep up with the demands of this job. The endless laundry, cleaning, organizing and reorganizing, etc etc. Did I mention I run this business 24 hours a day/7 days a week. There are no sick days. No easy vacations, as employees must be taken care of in my absence. And I don't feel like I'm allowed to have 'bad' or 'off' days since I directly influence those below me. I still have them, but I feel extra terrible from the guilt of having them.
This particular job lacks concrete direction and objectives. It requires a keen sense of self-discipline, patience, flexibility, ability to have a sense of humor despite feeling anything but humorous, and to see both the big and small picture of each and every day. This job lays the groundwork for my small employees to eventually run their own businesses. Oh, the self-induced pressure. It really is since as long as I lead by example (and feel confident that it's a good example MOST of the time), the kids will be alright.
So I should probably go and get some much need work done. I'm going to make a concerted effort to put a smile on my face and dig deep for that sense of humor I mentioned earlier. I feel I'm suffereing from one of my worst qualities as of late ~ taking myself WAY TOO SERIOUSLY. It's an affliction I've suffered from, well, for as long as I can remember (which honestly isn't that long since I have a terrible memory).
The moral of this story is...lighten up. The business isn't actually going to fail, at least not in the long-term. And there are worse things than not getting the laundry done (or put away), having a messy workspace AKA playroom or being surrounded by pissed employees. At least my fellow co-workers running their own businesses are amazing, always make me laugh and are there to lift me up when I've fallen (like hard, head-first into concrete...or at least, that's what it feels like).
So, here's to other "Presidents"...while we make NO money and receive NO benefits (like health, retirement, etc)...we still have the best job (most days).
Peace. J
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
"Cooking is like love.
It should be entered into with abandon or not at all." Harriet Van Horne
Oh, do I agree with that statement. I.love.food. I believe that meals should be thoroughly enjoyed, savored and discussed ad nauseum. My husband recently told me that "I'm too into my meals." I took it as a compliment. It was not intended as one. I didn't care.
I feel like food is my birthright. Everyone, specifically my dad's side (the Huba's), loves food. And we have an amazing ability to remember meals long after they are done. Food touches our souls, not just feeds it. Food resurrects our childhood. Make me a pound cake and I will think of my Nanny Huba. She used to make me a pound cake almost every visit to Peekskill, NY. And I loved them. And I absolutely adored her. Silver dollar pancakes, also a Nanny-specialty. She kept her bread in the oven and always had delicious New York cold cuts on hand. And I can't forget the Entemann's Crumb Coffee Cake. Again, a staple during our visits. Food doesn't always have to be homemade, but it does have to be quality in my humble opinion.
Food brings people together. Everyone has food in common. Yet food also sets us apart. Every family, culture, region has their specialty. Isn't that what makes traveling so fun? Trying new foods, exposing taste buds to something out of their comfort zone. Isn't that how we grow? Exploring, trying new things but always coming back to what we know best, a good (hopefully locally grown - plug) home cooked meal.
I could write about food all day, everyday. But think I should break to make my kid some breakfast. A cereal bar doesn't really qualify as a meal. Nope, she deserves a freshly blended smoothie and maybe I'll whip up some silver dollar pancakes as they never go out of style.
Here's to you Nanny. May you look down and feel relieved your "foodie" gene was successful passed. And your memory forever honored through recipes handed down and new ones tested out on my beautiful, food-loving family.
Peace. J
Oh, do I agree with that statement. I.love.food. I believe that meals should be thoroughly enjoyed, savored and discussed ad nauseum. My husband recently told me that "I'm too into my meals." I took it as a compliment. It was not intended as one. I didn't care.
I feel like food is my birthright. Everyone, specifically my dad's side (the Huba's), loves food. And we have an amazing ability to remember meals long after they are done. Food touches our souls, not just feeds it. Food resurrects our childhood. Make me a pound cake and I will think of my Nanny Huba. She used to make me a pound cake almost every visit to Peekskill, NY. And I loved them. And I absolutely adored her. Silver dollar pancakes, also a Nanny-specialty. She kept her bread in the oven and always had delicious New York cold cuts on hand. And I can't forget the Entemann's Crumb Coffee Cake. Again, a staple during our visits. Food doesn't always have to be homemade, but it does have to be quality in my humble opinion.
Food brings people together. Everyone has food in common. Yet food also sets us apart. Every family, culture, region has their specialty. Isn't that what makes traveling so fun? Trying new foods, exposing taste buds to something out of their comfort zone. Isn't that how we grow? Exploring, trying new things but always coming back to what we know best, a good (hopefully locally grown - plug) home cooked meal.
I could write about food all day, everyday. But think I should break to make my kid some breakfast. A cereal bar doesn't really qualify as a meal. Nope, she deserves a freshly blended smoothie and maybe I'll whip up some silver dollar pancakes as they never go out of style.
Here's to you Nanny. May you look down and feel relieved your "foodie" gene was successful passed. And your memory forever honored through recipes handed down and new ones tested out on my beautiful, food-loving family.
Peace. J
Friday, February 11, 2011
Sleep benefits...
everyone in my household. Hey, sleep benefits everyone around the world. But for now, let's concentrate on a smaller scale, like right here, right now. My girls are still in bed. It's 8:00 am. They both slept soundly through the night. I think we're on night 2 or 3. This wasn't always so unusual, but kids go through stages, right? E went on a 2 month kick of sleeping great, then back pedaled a bit. B's paci took flight with the fairy and she back pedaled a bit. Now we are cruising again. This could end at any point, but I'll take what I can get. And right now, that's uninterrupted sleep. A thing of beauty and wonder and oh so good for my sanity.
I'm alert and ready for the day. And it's so nice. It's so nice to wake up happy and restful instead of cranky and tired. I know that may sound simple, who wouldn't want the former, and I know I have the power to wake up any way I want because I control my attitude...blah blah blah. But it's so much easier to "control my attitude" in a positive fashion when I've gotten at least 6 hours of sleep.
While I'd love to continue writing, I actually need to wake 3.5 yo up. She has a date at the Disney Ice Show this fine morning. And her ride will be here in less than an hour. Little lady needs to get up and get moving and pick out her favorite costume for the show. And then I get to snuggle my sweet baby E and clean and clean and clean. Yay for putting off chores...but that's another post all together.
Peace. J
I'm alert and ready for the day. And it's so nice. It's so nice to wake up happy and restful instead of cranky and tired. I know that may sound simple, who wouldn't want the former, and I know I have the power to wake up any way I want because I control my attitude...blah blah blah. But it's so much easier to "control my attitude" in a positive fashion when I've gotten at least 6 hours of sleep.
While I'd love to continue writing, I actually need to wake 3.5 yo up. She has a date at the Disney Ice Show this fine morning. And her ride will be here in less than an hour. Little lady needs to get up and get moving and pick out her favorite costume for the show. And then I get to snuggle my sweet baby E and clean and clean and clean. Yay for putting off chores...but that's another post all together.
Peace. J
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
I just need...
a break. Since my 3.5 yo gave up her naps, I've been in a kind of hell. Like stuck in one of the rings in Dante's Inferno. Not sure which one, let's say 5 for the hell of it (no pun intended). I tried setting the oven timer today, a modest hour. It didn't work. She asked every 30 seconds if the timer "dinged" yet and we graduated to yet another level of annoying. Sweet 5 mo old sleeping, well, like a baby.
So what do you do with a kid who just won't nap? BTW, this is the same kid who fell asleep between me picking her up from school and driving home (we're 2 miles away) yesterday. Bedtime's been bumped up some, but nothing significant. My day is usually broken up with play dates or errands, but we've been sick or timing's been off with friends, so that equals long days at 318 Riding Ridge Rd.
I've never had a job where I didn't get some kind of break. Being a mom really is 24/7. I guess I just didn't believe the hype or rather, you just don't know until you're knee deep. So here I am, blurry eyed (yes I had coffee, two cups if you must know), still in PJ's, unshowered (but you prob guessed that when I told you about the PJ's) and my husband will be home shortly. The good news is I re-organized my kitchen, swept and mopped the first floor (most of it), so I almost look like I had a productive day. At least it's obvious I wasn't sitting on my ass eating bon bons, or something of the like.
But what I would give to have a break during the day. Even a 30 min overlap in naps would be a little bit of heaven. To be able to write this blog without threatening my kid, or take an uninterrupted shower, or simply sit and read or watch a DVR'ed show from the night before. Ahhh, a mom can dream, right?
Looks like this "break" is o-v-e-r. I'm going to throw myself in the shower in the hopes that I look human before H gets home.
Peace. J
So what do you do with a kid who just won't nap? BTW, this is the same kid who fell asleep between me picking her up from school and driving home (we're 2 miles away) yesterday. Bedtime's been bumped up some, but nothing significant. My day is usually broken up with play dates or errands, but we've been sick or timing's been off with friends, so that equals long days at 318 Riding Ridge Rd.
I've never had a job where I didn't get some kind of break. Being a mom really is 24/7. I guess I just didn't believe the hype or rather, you just don't know until you're knee deep. So here I am, blurry eyed (yes I had coffee, two cups if you must know), still in PJ's, unshowered (but you prob guessed that when I told you about the PJ's) and my husband will be home shortly. The good news is I re-organized my kitchen, swept and mopped the first floor (most of it), so I almost look like I had a productive day. At least it's obvious I wasn't sitting on my ass eating bon bons, or something of the like.
But what I would give to have a break during the day. Even a 30 min overlap in naps would be a little bit of heaven. To be able to write this blog without threatening my kid, or take an uninterrupted shower, or simply sit and read or watch a DVR'ed show from the night before. Ahhh, a mom can dream, right?
Looks like this "break" is o-v-e-r. I'm going to throw myself in the shower in the hopes that I look human before H gets home.
Peace. J
Monday, February 7, 2011
I'm Starving...
Just kidding. That's my daily scenario with my 3.5 yo. We battled over breakfast because she insisted on having a bowl of cereal and yogurt. Then changed her mind when she saw me eating oatmeal. I.saw.red. Maybe it's because I'm sick of wasting food or maybe it's because of the incessant demands of someone who measures up to my hipbone. Regardless, I.almost.lost it. This resulted in a 45 min tantrum. And me in tears lamenting over the woes of having a 3.5 yo. BECAUSE NO ONE TELLS YOU THIS IS WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY WORSE THAN HAVING A 2 yo. Or at least, for me. 2 was a dream. A wonderful, sweet dream. 3.5 is a flippin' nightmare and I am ready to wake-up.
But back to food. I'm writing this as I look at her full bowl of 'bugs', the type of mac n cheese that she not only HAD to have, but cried in the parking lot of Whole Foods because she REALLY wanted to carry the box. You may be wondering why I didn't just give it to her and avoid the tears. Well friends, the tears started in Whole Foods when I didn't trust her to actually carry them out w/out losing them somewhere along the way. And then they continued when I wouldn't give them to her UNTIL she turned off the tears. I'm pretty sure the guy collecting carts felt sorry for me, or maybe he felt sorry for B. To be fair, he should pity both of us. So B got her bugs and I made them for lunch. And they are sitting on the table, uneaten, laughing in my face. They are like "you are a sucka". And I'm like, "I know, right"?
I'm a big believer in choices. And she is making some poor ones when it comes to food recently. And I am making some poor choices in how I handle her poor choices. Even now, as I write this I sound like, well, I sound like a jerk when I talk to her. I HAVE NO MORE PATIENCE. It's all gone and I need to replenish it. Any tips? Because I need some help, fast, like yesterday.
Well, she just ate two bites. Woo hoo. I'm sure starving children all over the world would be impressed. I can't wait to throw that line at her. Oh, the battles we endure to raise good kids. Or just raise them to be as independent as possible so they can get the hell out of our houses. Cheers!
Peace. J
But back to food. I'm writing this as I look at her full bowl of 'bugs', the type of mac n cheese that she not only HAD to have, but cried in the parking lot of Whole Foods because she REALLY wanted to carry the box. You may be wondering why I didn't just give it to her and avoid the tears. Well friends, the tears started in Whole Foods when I didn't trust her to actually carry them out w/out losing them somewhere along the way. And then they continued when I wouldn't give them to her UNTIL she turned off the tears. I'm pretty sure the guy collecting carts felt sorry for me, or maybe he felt sorry for B. To be fair, he should pity both of us. So B got her bugs and I made them for lunch. And they are sitting on the table, uneaten, laughing in my face. They are like "you are a sucka". And I'm like, "I know, right"?
I'm a big believer in choices. And she is making some poor ones when it comes to food recently. And I am making some poor choices in how I handle her poor choices. Even now, as I write this I sound like, well, I sound like a jerk when I talk to her. I HAVE NO MORE PATIENCE. It's all gone and I need to replenish it. Any tips? Because I need some help, fast, like yesterday.
Well, she just ate two bites. Woo hoo. I'm sure starving children all over the world would be impressed. I can't wait to throw that line at her. Oh, the battles we endure to raise good kids. Or just raise them to be as independent as possible so they can get the hell out of our houses. Cheers!
Peace. J
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cookies
I had one for breakfast. Think that's a good way to start the day? How about combining that sugar with 3 cups a coffee? Hmmm. I see a sharp downfall in my future. Perfect. It's all about choices and I chose cookies today. And after the night I had (up all night with a puking kid, and another who just wanted to say hey), I felt I deserved a cookie. Somehow, I think my logic is flawed. I probably would be more 'deserving' after a really hard work-out (the kind where I burned a gazillion calories). Not necessarily after a sleepless night where nourishing my body/mind with actually food would be the smarter choice. I did have oatmeal. It was the high fiber variety, so that counts for something, right?
We make a ton of choices all day long. How many's 'a ton'...I don't know. Try counting sometime...my guess it's in the hundreds. I don't have time to count, okay. I'm too busy reflecting on my bad decision to start my day with a cake cookie with frosting and sprinkles. Let's get back on track. Choices. We all have them. I'll save dissecting why we do what we do for another post. Just know that today, I started my day off with a pot of coffee and a cake cookie (and high fiber oatmeal). And that I'm comfortable (b/c I'm so high right now) with those choices. Check me in about an hour and I'm sure I'll be crashing, cursing myself for not eating a banana instead. Think I have a keen insight into addiction right now. I've gotta kick my sugar one and fast. Just one more thing to add to my ever growing 'to do' list.
Hope you make better choices today. Or at least wait to have that cookie until after a more appropriate meal, like lunch or dinner.
Peace. J
We make a ton of choices all day long. How many's 'a ton'...I don't know. Try counting sometime...my guess it's in the hundreds. I don't have time to count, okay. I'm too busy reflecting on my bad decision to start my day with a cake cookie with frosting and sprinkles. Let's get back on track. Choices. We all have them. I'll save dissecting why we do what we do for another post. Just know that today, I started my day off with a pot of coffee and a cake cookie (and high fiber oatmeal). And that I'm comfortable (b/c I'm so high right now) with those choices. Check me in about an hour and I'm sure I'll be crashing, cursing myself for not eating a banana instead. Think I have a keen insight into addiction right now. I've gotta kick my sugar one and fast. Just one more thing to add to my ever growing 'to do' list.
Hope you make better choices today. Or at least wait to have that cookie until after a more appropriate meal, like lunch or dinner.
Peace. J
Add it to my titles
Nurse. When you become a mom, you're not just a mom. And you have no idea how many hats you have to wear until you have to put another one on. Last night, I was a nurse. It thankfully doesn't happen often with my kids (hardy stock), but when B gets a stomach bug, well, it's like her kryptonite. Her little system just can't handle them. Last year, we ended up in the hosptial. She seems to be faring better with this bug. It was a long night. But it ended. The sun came up. I brewed some strong coffee and now we're both still in PJ's (will be an all-day thing). She's watching Dora and I have CNN on in the background. I have no where to be. My only job to make B as comfortable as possible and hope E stays asleep for a little bit longer.
I love being a mom, especially a stay-at-home mom. I like knowing that my only responsibilities are to my family for the moment. I could be up all night and have no where to be but my couch in the morning. No students to teach, no teachers or administrators to answer to. My bosses might be pint-sized, but I wouldn't trade them or all my various hats for anything.
Peace. J
I love being a mom, especially a stay-at-home mom. I like knowing that my only responsibilities are to my family for the moment. I could be up all night and have no where to be but my couch in the morning. No students to teach, no teachers or administrators to answer to. My bosses might be pint-sized, but I wouldn't trade them or all my various hats for anything.
Peace. J
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Dear Sweet Baby Jesus
Please give me the strength to get through the rest of the evening without completely losing my mind. I just don't think my 3.5 yo has ever gotten under my skin so completely, so undeniably bad, that I actually thought I might go screaming mad into the cold, windy night.
Okay - everything's better, kids are sleeping and I'm drinking a beer watching Dare Devil until Maryland game. Colin Farrell is a KA-RAZY SOB in this movie. But I digress.
I parented angry today. Not all day. But a fair amount. I don't recommend it. No one wins. And you def don't feel better. I raised my voice and she cried. I empty threatened, she called me on it. I pleaded for a personal time out and she more or less told me to go F myself. It.was.awesome. My personal high was when she was whining "Mom"...I don't even know how to write it. Imagine mom-uh-mooooommmm. Low,high,low. So very annoying. And then insert husband who dogs the shit out of my dinner because I bought the wrong cut of pork for the slow cooker. For the record, he still ate it. And recanted his low blow after I almost exploded in the kitchen. He could see the crazy coming out...so he rolled out to the playroom and I 'excused' myself for a quick break upstairs.
Dinner was fine. B ate rice and a cheese stick. E jumped in the jumper. And then we used TV to entertain B until bedtime. Both girls went down without a fight, thank God because I had no fight left in me. And that brings us up to speed. Now hopefully MD won't let me down, I might have one more beer and then head up to bed.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day.
Peace. J
Okay - everything's better, kids are sleeping and I'm drinking a beer watching Dare Devil until Maryland game. Colin Farrell is a KA-RAZY SOB in this movie. But I digress.
I parented angry today. Not all day. But a fair amount. I don't recommend it. No one wins. And you def don't feel better. I raised my voice and she cried. I empty threatened, she called me on it. I pleaded for a personal time out and she more or less told me to go F myself. It.was.awesome. My personal high was when she was whining "Mom"...I don't even know how to write it. Imagine mom-uh-mooooommmm. Low,high,low. So very annoying. And then insert husband who dogs the shit out of my dinner because I bought the wrong cut of pork for the slow cooker. For the record, he still ate it. And recanted his low blow after I almost exploded in the kitchen. He could see the crazy coming out...so he rolled out to the playroom and I 'excused' myself for a quick break upstairs.
Dinner was fine. B ate rice and a cheese stick. E jumped in the jumper. And then we used TV to entertain B until bedtime. Both girls went down without a fight, thank God because I had no fight left in me. And that brings us up to speed. Now hopefully MD won't let me down, I might have one more beer and then head up to bed.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day.
Peace. J
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
What goes around
Apparently comes around. Today, I asked my 3.5 yo do to something for me. To this she replied, "can't you see I'm doing something?" Um, I'm sorry, what? If you're curious to know what she was doing, it was really quite important. She was carrying a handmade basket around with a plastic golf club "picking up stuff" (yet the basket was totally empty, hmmm). So I guess the lesson learned today was she's actually paying attention to me and my statements and has no problem throwing them right back in my face (appropriately at that).
The second just awesome thing that happened was at dinner. My husband's faith in God grew exponentially. All because a lowly, stinky stinkbug landed on my dinner plate while I was eating. Are.you.serious? The best part was how much he was gunning for it to happen. He was captivated as it flew in circles, lower and lower, until lo and behold, it landed in my green beans. Now, I'm not saying I deserved the stinkbug incident, but I won't deny that I was being a cranky b-i-t-c-h to my husband. We had a disagreement (if you want to label it) over how to cook dinner, specifically the Mahi Mahi I picked up from Giant yesterday. I bought it frozen and ready to steam in the bag (a choice I heavily regret after watching an oh so informative documentary today about how toxic our world is), but he didn't want steamed fish (insert whiney voice please). So we decided to broil. It didn't come out so well. It took 4 times as long as steaming in bag. And therefore leaving the rest of the dinner cold by the time it was 'ready'. My problem is I'm flexible most of the time, but then part of the time, I just want things the way I want them. And that is how I feel about dinner right now. Call me controlling (go ahead, it won't hurt my feelings), but really, who doesn't like things done his/her way? When my husband inserted himself into the prep work tonight, I didn't handle it gracefully. Being 'snitty' might be closer to the truth. Thankfully, he doesn't take me or my moods seriously 99% of the time, and he never takes things personally (unless he really, really should).
So dinner was a partial bust, but everyone still ate. I'm making turkey kielbasa and brussel sprouts tomorrow OR portobello mushroom burgers with kale chips. I'm looking foward to a new day, hopefully free of sassy remarks from a 3.5 yo (no chance) and stinkbugs (come on God, lemme catch a break on that one).
Word. J
The second just awesome thing that happened was at dinner. My husband's faith in God grew exponentially. All because a lowly, stinky stinkbug landed on my dinner plate while I was eating. Are.you.serious? The best part was how much he was gunning for it to happen. He was captivated as it flew in circles, lower and lower, until lo and behold, it landed in my green beans. Now, I'm not saying I deserved the stinkbug incident, but I won't deny that I was being a cranky b-i-t-c-h to my husband. We had a disagreement (if you want to label it) over how to cook dinner, specifically the Mahi Mahi I picked up from Giant yesterday. I bought it frozen and ready to steam in the bag (a choice I heavily regret after watching an oh so informative documentary today about how toxic our world is), but he didn't want steamed fish (insert whiney voice please). So we decided to broil. It didn't come out so well. It took 4 times as long as steaming in bag. And therefore leaving the rest of the dinner cold by the time it was 'ready'. My problem is I'm flexible most of the time, but then part of the time, I just want things the way I want them. And that is how I feel about dinner right now. Call me controlling (go ahead, it won't hurt my feelings), but really, who doesn't like things done his/her way? When my husband inserted himself into the prep work tonight, I didn't handle it gracefully. Being 'snitty' might be closer to the truth. Thankfully, he doesn't take me or my moods seriously 99% of the time, and he never takes things personally (unless he really, really should).
So dinner was a partial bust, but everyone still ate. I'm making turkey kielbasa and brussel sprouts tomorrow OR portobello mushroom burgers with kale chips. I'm looking foward to a new day, hopefully free of sassy remarks from a 3.5 yo (no chance) and stinkbugs (come on God, lemme catch a break on that one).
Word. J
Monday, January 31, 2011
Debt
My body is like a credit card. I'm hovering around my limit, but I want to keep charging. Or rather, eating. I need to lose twenty pounds. And while I appreciate the benefits of breastfeeding, losing a mere pound a week is losing its luster. Problem is, I love food. I love wine. I love dessert. Those aren't really the problems. This is ~ I haven't seen the inside of a gym in over a year. And it's winter, so being outside is limited (not b/c I am wimp, but b/c I have my kids all day every day). Or maybe I'm being a little bit of a wimp. I JUST NEED TO GET INTO A NEW ROUTINE! And not get thrown b/c my kids were up tag teaming me all night (which happened last night). Money's slightly an issue so joining an actual gym isn't on the table, but last time I checked, my tennis shoes worked anywhere and everywhere. They didn't only magically turn on inside a gym (but wouldn't that be a stellar excuse). Really, I just want to walk and do some Pilate's. Maybe use the Wii Fit. I think 'Just Dance' would be fun and burn away some unwanted calories. And my 3.5 yo could have a blastie too.
I have this 'today's the day' mentality, but I'm stuck in an rut right now. And what's so irritating is that I know (and I mean, I KNOW) how much better I would feel after a nice power walk or Pilate's workout. I believe in exercise. It is my friend. So I guess that makes me one of the worst friends ever since I never visit, call, or even text. Exercise must be like, "WTF, I didn't do anything but bring joy and satisfaction into your life and this is how you treat me?" Good point, exercise, good point.
So maybe tomorrow's the day since let's face it, today's almost over. I'll finish this day and be done, just like the great Ralph Waldo Emerson once said. Time to cut up this credit card and get to paying off this debt. It's a heavy burden (literally)...and I'm over it. So good-bye baby weight debt, hello healthy momma. Who knows, maybe I'll actually look forward to putting on a bathing suit this summer.
Peace. J
I have this 'today's the day' mentality, but I'm stuck in an rut right now. And what's so irritating is that I know (and I mean, I KNOW) how much better I would feel after a nice power walk or Pilate's workout. I believe in exercise. It is my friend. So I guess that makes me one of the worst friends ever since I never visit, call, or even text. Exercise must be like, "WTF, I didn't do anything but bring joy and satisfaction into your life and this is how you treat me?" Good point, exercise, good point.
So maybe tomorrow's the day since let's face it, today's almost over. I'll finish this day and be done, just like the great Ralph Waldo Emerson once said. Time to cut up this credit card and get to paying off this debt. It's a heavy burden (literally)...and I'm over it. So good-bye baby weight debt, hello healthy momma. Who knows, maybe I'll actually look forward to putting on a bathing suit this summer.
Peace. J
Sunday, January 30, 2011
What a shame
It's ridiculous how much my family wastes. From food to the growing mountain of stuff in the basement, waste is everywhere. And I feel bad about it. I try to tackle 'organizational' projects every Monday, but they really should be a daily ritual. But I find it nearly impossible because time is a precious commodity around here, as I'm sure it is in your home too.
But I can't take the waste anymore. I just can't. It drives me bananas. And it puts me in a horrible mood, which leads to excessive frowns, elevated stress levels and some yelling. I once heard (as I'm sure you have at some point or another) that it takes more facial muscles to frown than to smile. Just something to chew on.
But I digress.
I love games, but I'm not a big fan of this domino effect waste has on my life. This is how it started today. Cleaned out the fridge, threw a ton of food away (insert frown). Tried to tackle basement with husband, but he gave up within minutes (he likes to finish projects in a fair amount of time. After surveying basement, he determined it an impossible task and opted for the garage instead). Stress levels climbing. Managed to organize all of three boxes (don't be impressed, they were tiny boxes). Time-out, baby crying because 3.5 yo yelled from top floor to basement for me right outside baby's door. Wait for it, yup, yelled right back at 3.5 yo (did I mention she's sick and deserves my pity and compassion right now). Got baby back down, but decided to give up on basement too. I'll just shut the door for now. So, it's been a really productive day so far, not at all.
We did manage to get a fair amount of cleaning done yesterday, but this comforts me little as I look around my house. I hate that after almost two years of living here, everything doesn't have a proper home. Again, it's just wasteful. I believe if it doesn't have a home (proper home), then it doesn't belong in my house. Because shoving excess in drawers, cabinets or condemning it to the basement isn't a good way to live, right? What I need to do is enter every HGTV/Nate Berkus/Ellen/OWN sweepstakes and pray someone comes in and makes my house look like the Container Store. And let's throw in the Food Network to help with the fridge issue too. So I need experts. I need direction. I need help. So universe if you're listening, here's my SOS. Help me kick my waste habit to the curb, stat.
Peace. J
But I can't take the waste anymore. I just can't. It drives me bananas. And it puts me in a horrible mood, which leads to excessive frowns, elevated stress levels and some yelling. I once heard (as I'm sure you have at some point or another) that it takes more facial muscles to frown than to smile. Just something to chew on.
But I digress.
I love games, but I'm not a big fan of this domino effect waste has on my life. This is how it started today. Cleaned out the fridge, threw a ton of food away (insert frown). Tried to tackle basement with husband, but he gave up within minutes (he likes to finish projects in a fair amount of time. After surveying basement, he determined it an impossible task and opted for the garage instead). Stress levels climbing. Managed to organize all of three boxes (don't be impressed, they were tiny boxes). Time-out, baby crying because 3.5 yo yelled from top floor to basement for me right outside baby's door. Wait for it, yup, yelled right back at 3.5 yo (did I mention she's sick and deserves my pity and compassion right now). Got baby back down, but decided to give up on basement too. I'll just shut the door for now. So, it's been a really productive day so far, not at all.
We did manage to get a fair amount of cleaning done yesterday, but this comforts me little as I look around my house. I hate that after almost two years of living here, everything doesn't have a proper home. Again, it's just wasteful. I believe if it doesn't have a home (proper home), then it doesn't belong in my house. Because shoving excess in drawers, cabinets or condemning it to the basement isn't a good way to live, right? What I need to do is enter every HGTV/Nate Berkus/Ellen/OWN sweepstakes and pray someone comes in and makes my house look like the Container Store. And let's throw in the Food Network to help with the fridge issue too. So I need experts. I need direction. I need help. So universe if you're listening, here's my SOS. Help me kick my waste habit to the curb, stat.
Peace. J
Saturday, January 29, 2011
When did I...
Lose my manners? I RSVP'ed to a birthday party today and guess what? The party is also today. How.rude. Has my life spiraled to the point that I can no longer function like a responsible adult? Because my thank you notes from Christmas (or any other recent event) have also gone unwritten. I used to put great stock in manners, formal, good old-fashioned manners. I used to take great pride that I had some. Have I given up on that part of me since my kids came along. Because last time I checked, they weren't handing out hall passes in the hospital.
Manners are important. They are a sign of civility. And they should never go out of style or be tossed aside because of a couple of kids (4 or more, maybe, but not 2). Or at least, not for me. If for nothing else but because my parents raised me better than that. They invested time and energy into teaching me to act right. To have manners. And I want the lessons I teach my kids to last a lifetime. I want Brooklynn and Emerson to write thank you notes. To be grateful for their 'prizes' and parties and thoughtful gestures. The thing about having kids is you then have to live an exemplary life. Or at least, you should. There should be a common goal amongst parents to raise good kids and I think, in order to do that we have to be good people, right? People who generally make good choices. People who take the time to sit down with a pen and paper and write (like in the olden days) a thoughtful thank you note.
I don't know about you, but today's the day my manner's make a comeback. Hell, I might even order personalized stationary and break out a book on etiquette. I think this momentum is going to last (at least for the next day or so). So I better get moving, get writing and get to teaching my girls (although E might have trouble handling a pen) about the beauty of a note (and a prompt RSVP).
Word. J
Manners are important. They are a sign of civility. And they should never go out of style or be tossed aside because of a couple of kids (4 or more, maybe, but not 2). Or at least, not for me. If for nothing else but because my parents raised me better than that. They invested time and energy into teaching me to act right. To have manners. And I want the lessons I teach my kids to last a lifetime. I want Brooklynn and Emerson to write thank you notes. To be grateful for their 'prizes' and parties and thoughtful gestures. The thing about having kids is you then have to live an exemplary life. Or at least, you should. There should be a common goal amongst parents to raise good kids and I think, in order to do that we have to be good people, right? People who generally make good choices. People who take the time to sit down with a pen and paper and write (like in the olden days) a thoughtful thank you note.
I don't know about you, but today's the day my manner's make a comeback. Hell, I might even order personalized stationary and break out a book on etiquette. I think this momentum is going to last (at least for the next day or so). So I better get moving, get writing and get to teaching my girls (although E might have trouble handling a pen) about the beauty of a note (and a prompt RSVP).
Word. J
Friday, January 28, 2011
Wow.
I have taken 'feeling guilty' to a new level tonight. It's never a proud moment when you lose your temper and tell your 3.5 yo to 'shut up', but that's exactly what happened to me tonight. I understand your judgement right now. And if this has NEVER happened to you, please tell me your secret to keeping your cool in the face of a hysterical, dramatic, manipulative 3.5 yo (oh, and her sister was screaming from the crib too). Double whammy. And I'm by myself on Friday nights, which is def okay, but dealing with tantrums is so much easier tag-teaming.
Did I mention we haven't had school all week? And that we lost power the night before last for almost 24 hours? And that I was up all night with both kids? And then was up twice last night with baby E? I blame the snow. I blame sleep deprivation. I blame my hot temper.
I just wanted her to go to bed. So I could relax. Have a glass of wine. Unwind. Obviously she had other plans. And that irritated me. It made me see red. So I uttered two words you really shouldn't say because they are mean, 'shut up'. I said them out of desperation. I said them out of anger. I said them. And I really wish I hadn't. Because she was upset. She wanted her daddy. She was overtired. And she couldn't calm down. Instead of soothing her. I yelled. Instead of holding her, I tantrumed in my room (yes, I did walk away, more than once). The only 'right' thing I did was call another mom. And not just any mom. I called one of my best friends who I knew wouldn't judge and more importantly, be up and available to talk. Someone who could commiserate. And get me to breathe. The call worked. I calmed down. I compromised with my 3.5 yo. She went to sleep, I left the door open (and I read her one last book before she conked out - also a great way to soothe the waters).
I changed the little one. Put on her CD player, again. Put on her crib music, again. And walked out the door, down the stairs and headed to the buffet where I promptly extracted my favorite bottle of red.
So I am going to relax. I am going to drink a glass of wine and unwind. And cross my fingers and toes that both girls sleep (maybe even through the night), at the very least, over the next few hours.
This momma needs a break. Staying home is wonderful. But there is a limit to how much time I can spend with my kids before I start breaking a little bit. And I hit that limit tonight. But I've regrouped. I'm going to try and forgive the falter and bad attitude and recognize that tomorrow is a new day and I will do better. And I will have help. And I will hug my 3.5 yo at least a hundred times so she feels my love. Hopefully she remembers the hugs and not the words that hurt her feelings oh so much tonight.
Peace. J
Did I mention we haven't had school all week? And that we lost power the night before last for almost 24 hours? And that I was up all night with both kids? And then was up twice last night with baby E? I blame the snow. I blame sleep deprivation. I blame my hot temper.
I just wanted her to go to bed. So I could relax. Have a glass of wine. Unwind. Obviously she had other plans. And that irritated me. It made me see red. So I uttered two words you really shouldn't say because they are mean, 'shut up'. I said them out of desperation. I said them out of anger. I said them. And I really wish I hadn't. Because she was upset. She wanted her daddy. She was overtired. And she couldn't calm down. Instead of soothing her. I yelled. Instead of holding her, I tantrumed in my room (yes, I did walk away, more than once). The only 'right' thing I did was call another mom. And not just any mom. I called one of my best friends who I knew wouldn't judge and more importantly, be up and available to talk. Someone who could commiserate. And get me to breathe. The call worked. I calmed down. I compromised with my 3.5 yo. She went to sleep, I left the door open (and I read her one last book before she conked out - also a great way to soothe the waters).
I changed the little one. Put on her CD player, again. Put on her crib music, again. And walked out the door, down the stairs and headed to the buffet where I promptly extracted my favorite bottle of red.
So I am going to relax. I am going to drink a glass of wine and unwind. And cross my fingers and toes that both girls sleep (maybe even through the night), at the very least, over the next few hours.
This momma needs a break. Staying home is wonderful. But there is a limit to how much time I can spend with my kids before I start breaking a little bit. And I hit that limit tonight. But I've regrouped. I'm going to try and forgive the falter and bad attitude and recognize that tomorrow is a new day and I will do better. And I will have help. And I will hug my 3.5 yo at least a hundred times so she feels my love. Hopefully she remembers the hugs and not the words that hurt her feelings oh so much tonight.
Peace. J
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Why.
I've been thinking about this blog for some time now. The name came to me while I was drifting off to sleep, but I struggled with actually using it. The Daily Guilt. I hate feeling guilty (who does?). And I've been surprised with how often, as a mom, I feel guilty. It is daily, hence the name.
I also feel guilty about not working out since getting pregnant and having my second baby girl. And about not eating enough fruits and veggies. And about having terrible first reactions. and, and, and.
I feel especially guilty about ignoring my first born, Brooklynn Rose (3.5 yo) while I write this entry.
Writing is therapeutic. So is laughter. So I'm hoping to combine the two in this blog. I want to take myself less seriously. I want to laugh more with my kids (especially my 3.5 yo). And I want to get rid of the guilt. So join me (or not) in forgiveness, because that's what I need. Forgiveness for being less than perfect, but (almost) always trying my best.
I also feel guilty about not working out since getting pregnant and having my second baby girl. And about not eating enough fruits and veggies. And about having terrible first reactions. and, and, and.
I feel especially guilty about ignoring my first born, Brooklynn Rose (3.5 yo) while I write this entry.
Writing is therapeutic. So is laughter. So I'm hoping to combine the two in this blog. I want to take myself less seriously. I want to laugh more with my kids (especially my 3.5 yo). And I want to get rid of the guilt. So join me (or not) in forgiveness, because that's what I need. Forgiveness for being less than perfect, but (almost) always trying my best.
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