One Year, Congratulations, Carry on...

My daughter is turning 1 year on Sunday.  Happy Birthday My Love!!!  She has completed my heart in so many ways.  I am in awe of this child.  She is so beautiful, so boisterous, so funny and lively.

I was talking to my friend today and she said, “as much as this is a celebration of them, it is also a celebration of us.”  Damn straight.  We are moms!  We are warriors!  I think I’m going to buy myself something pretty in celebration.  Congratulations to me.  I did it.  Because let’s be honest, the first year is the HARDEST!  And, as I think about this year gone by, I think about her and the wonderful 1 year old she has become, but I think about me, and how much hard work I put into making that happen.

I think about one year ago Sunday, when I was laying on that table, arms spread out, waiting in anticipation for our first meeting in person.  I felt the pulling and tugging, I felt the fear, the dizziness, the worry of her; of me, and finally…the joy when she was out safely. Our first meeting was so amazing because she cried and cried until she was put beside me. 

A moment of magic. 

I had no idea what I was in for.  I think about that moment and then the million moments that followed that let me get to this place…one year later.  I am a mom.  I am strong.

These beautiful babies let us earn our stripes.    

 I remember the sleepless nights.  The 2 am feedings, the 4 am feedings. The witching hour, God help me.  She would cry from 5-7 pm every night.  My husband would get home from work and I would be in tears too. I remember, in the early days, she would scream bloody murder every time she was put in the car seat.  She would cry until we reached our destination.  I remember trying to find balance with my two kids.  (Still trying).  I think about those moments that I just wanted to sleep but couldn’t because I had a 2 year old to attend to.  I think about utter exhaustion.  I think about no time for myself and the time instead that I spent reading to her, teaching her, following her around, catching her before she falls…

I think about her first bump.  I think about her first fall.  I think about her first cough and how it lasted a month.  I think about the hard times, yes I do.  Of course I do.  Because they showed me that I am a warrior mom.  We all are.  We all get through the hard times.  Maybe we complain a little, perhaps we find people to lean on…and inside we know….we are all we are meant to be, in those little eyes.  Because...

OH THE JOY THEY BRING TO OUR HEARTS……

I remember the first time she smiled.  The first time she laughed; the giggle that was heard round the world; loud and long.  I remember the first time she sat up by herself, so proud with those eyebrows raised.  The first time she did patty cake all on her own.  The first time I saw her hug her sister.  The first time she woke her up with hugs and giggles.  The first time she shook her head no and how she says no to me every night when I ask her if she is going to have sweet dreams.  I think about when she crawled over to me and put her head down on my head to snuggle.  The first time she took a step, and the first time she took a step toward me.   I remember the first time we had a true mother daughter moment.  I was putting her to bed and singing our song, “Goodnight my love.”  I hummed the ending because I was getting tired and she just threw her head back and laughed.  It just tickled her funny bone.  It made me laugh so hard and we just continued to make each other laugh for minutes and minutes.  I thought to myself, “This little girl is a riot!!!”  We are going to have so much fun together.  The joy!  It trumps everything!!!!  These moments are the ones we hold on to forever.

As hard as it is, it is beautiful all the same.

As tiring as it is, it is full of life indeed.

Happy Birthday to my angel.  One year old.  What a blessing.

Congratulations to me, spending all of my time teaching a one year old everything there is to know.  What a blessing

We are moms.  We are warriors, soldiers, fighters.  We get through it and we carry on.  We take the time away from ourselves to spend it teaching our children.  We are doing it.  We are doing it well.  We are sacrificing, bouncing, reading, feeding, planning, loving, and living.  We are laughing with our children with messy buns in our hair, pointing to the words with unpainted finger nails, and balancing it all with hearts as full as can be. 

The Do-Over

You know what is hilarious…. the fact that I wrote that last blog, “Not a Good Look,” and then the same thing happened to me.  Hilarious.  Are you catching on to my sarcasm?  I guess it is karma punching me in the face.  Hard!  Bang.  I deserved it.  I shouldn’t have silently judged that other mom.  I should have simply looked the other way and pretended not to notice.  My mind should have been absolutely blank; I mean really, who am I to tell that mom to use “love and hugs.”  Do not misunderstand me; I could relate to her frustration, but she went over the top with the shaking of her child.

My mom actually told me that she worried the same thing would happen to me after I wrote it.  That is the way of the world.  And I really do believe in karma.  And why wouldn’t it happen to me?  I have a 3-year-old girl who is testing the limits, me, and anything that stands in her way.  She is also realizing that her baby sister is going nowhere.  What a combination??!!

So, here is a quick recap:

I was meeting friends at the pool at 9 am.  I woke her up at 8 am.  First mistake.

We rushed through breakfast.  Second mistake.

I asked her if she wanted to bring the rest of her breakfast in the car.  She said, no, so I didn’t bring it.  Third mistake.

She played for an hour and then started crying when a little boy took her watering can. 

I got it back, but she didn’t stop.

I gave her water and offered a snack.  She said no.  Fourth mistake.

Crying continued. 

She wanted to go home so I started packing up.  She cried because she wanted me to hold her.  I was holding the baby and the bags.  She wouldn’t move.  It was like the world was falling apart because her towel kept falling off of her and I couldn’t pick her up.  She just kept crying.

My friend, God Bless her, carried the baby to the car so I could carry my 3-year-old.  Phew, I thought we made it.  Was this the end?  If it was, well then, that’s ok.  But, it wasn’t.

I got home and had to put the baby for her nap.  So, I told her to “hold on a second.”  Fifth mistake.

Crying and screaming ensues...escalates… and gets out of hand.  I made it worse by yelling.  But jeez…how do you get a crying 3 year old to stop?  If you know, let me know.  I did try a hug or 2 but that DID NOT WORK.  The yelling DID NOT WORK.  I know distraction is good, but when we are past the point of no return, not an option. 

One hour later…we were out of the trenches.  I felt like that mother that I talked about in my last blog.  Like her, I was at the end of the rope.  I thought about her as I yelled at my daughter to stop crying.  I thought about her as I lost my cool. I thought about her again hours later when everything was calm.  I thought about myself.  I was disappointed that I let it get out of hand. 

In a way, I’m glad that this happened to me.  I learned a valuable lesson.  As much as I say that I don’t judge, I of course judged that other mom during a very low point. My mom tells me that I should talk about the highs but I wouldn’t have those highs without the lows.  In fact, it is the low points that shape us and our children.  I messed up that one.  But, we got through it.  I’m happy that I was in my own house with all the windows closed.  Shades drawn.  Haha.  Just kidding.  But I will remember this incident when I see another mom completely losing her cool.  I’m sorry to that mom that I judged.  I hope you forgive me. 

And to myself…how do I prevent myself from losing my cool again?  What do I do differently?  I guess I wouldn’t rush through the morning. (I.e. not wake her up).  I need to take more time to play with my 3 year old. (i.e. even at the pool). I have to remember to attend to the needs of my 3 year old sometimes before the needs of my 1 year old. (i.e. I could have fixed her problem first before putting my other one up for a nap).  I have to nip things in the bud quicker instead of letting them escalate and get drawn out.  I have to anticipate better.  I have to live in the moment more instead of always rushing around.  I have to trust my maternal instincts when I know something is best, I have to follow through. (i.e. bring her food in the car).  It is my responsibility to monitor their time and my temperment.

I’m glad I will get another chance at this.  Like I said, we only get one chance at life, but we are blessed to be able to get a ton of do-overs.  I’ll do it again, but next time, I’ll learn from my mistakes and try to do it better.

Not a Good Look

I recently saw a mother literally shake her 4 year old daughter to get her to stop crying.  I had to tell myself something a million times in a row, “do not judge, do not judge,” but I wish I could tell her that I’m sure that method of discipline won’t work.  It looked like it wasn’t working.  I was witness to a horrendous mother-daughter moment.  It felt bad on so many levels.

Did you ever hear of Erma Bombeck?  When I started blogging, a few people told me my writing reminded them of her.  (Do I have to say it was my mother and mother-in-law?) ha!

Here is a snippet from her biography:”From 1965 to 1996, Erma Bombeck wrote over 4,000 newspaper columns chronicling the ordinary life of a midwestern suburban housewife with broad, and sometimes eloquent humor.”

Some of her quotes are hilarious.  Totally relatable.  But mostly, she was a beautiful writer.  She wrote, “When God created mothers.” And “If I had my life to live over.”  She was so funny too.  She said and I quote, “Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart.”  Although I probably wouldn’t have waved it off. Actually, I definitely wouldn’t have waved it off.  I’m a sucker for the sweets.

I wish she lived now, in my time. 

Here is a link to her quotes.

http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/11882.Erma_Bombeck?page=1

As moms, we all get it.  We can sympathize and empathize for the most part.  I cannot judge that mom and her poor little girl, especially when I watched her yell, “STOP IT,” very LOUDLY, a couple of times in a row.  Ooohhh…bad place mommy.  Not a good look.  AND…it didn’t work.  The poor little 4 year old girl, would.not.stop.crying.  Look, I don’t know what happens behind closed doors.  Maybe she is just the worst child in the world and the mother is at her wits end.  Then, I feel bad for both of them.  I know what it feels like to be at your wits end and it doesn’t feel good.  Maybe she was there, having a bad moment, in front of a crowd of people.  Poor timing.  Maybe she had no filter.  Whatever the case, it reminded me of one of Erma Bombeck’s quotes.

“A child needs your love most when he deserves it least”
― Erma Bombeck

 At that moment, the child was acting up.  She wouldn’t listen.  She wouldn’t stop crying.  Maybe yelling and shaking wasn’t the answer; just an opinion from an onlooker.  Maybe the child needed attention?  Maybe she needed love?  Hugs?  Maybe that would calm her down?  More of those things.  Perhaps?  Couldn’t hurt to try, right?  If a certain tactic isn't working, try another.

I thought about that mom and the Erma Bombeck quote when my daughter wouldn’t eat her vegetables last night.  AND…it drives me ‘smoke out of the ears’ crazy. 

My face was getting red, my voice was starting to raise..Up Up Up.  But then, who wants to look like that mother?  Not me.  I don’t want to look overwhelmed, short-tempered…dare I say it…mean!

I thought about it at the pool today when she wouldn’t give the dolphin floatie back to the little boy it belonged to.  I didn’t get upset, I talked to her, took her away from the situation and she was fine.  I feel like at times, the child acts up to get the parent riled up.  And it works, well.  Other times however, the child needs strict discipline and raised voices.  Who am I to say what works best for your child.  I can’t because I’m not in the situation.  I just know that it doesn’t always work well with my child and that is where I’m coming from.  It doesn’t look like it was working for that mom either.

My 3 year old is a happy kid.  As long as I’m showing her lots of love and attention, she is also very well behaved.  There is something to be said for that.  And the truth is, I feel like such a better mom when I can keep my cool, explain and come from a place of love.  I know there are times that I have to be strict and discipline the crap out of my kids.  But, there are also times that I can remain cool, calm, and collected.  I hope I can remember that mother and Erma Bombeck’s quote when the %hit hits the fan.  We only get one shot at this.  And, we shouldn’t have to ask our children for forgiveness down the road, so let’s get it right. 

I hope you can remember that quote when you are feeling overwhelmed.  And maybe you will message me or email me and tell me that you remembered that quote when you felt like losing it.  Hopefully we can remember it as the years pass by.  Maybe then, we will look back at our grown children and be able to say, “I got it right.”

Lucky

I just re-read my earlier blog, “Grasping at Straws.”  It still makes me cry.  It is almost surreal.  Like I can’t believe that happened to me.  And now, as I talk about being a mom and the day to day grind, I feel like I can’t forget where I came from.  How I got here.  What made me, me.  If I forget about that experience, I will forget to be grateful.  I will forget how lucky I am. 

My friend emailed me to tell me she sent that blog to a friend who is currently suffering from a miscarriage.  I felt real pain for a person that I don’t know.  I felt it.  In that moment, I wanted to reach out to this stranger so badly to tell her that everything will be ok.  I wanted to promise her that she will get her baby, even if I don’t know it is true.  I just wanted to make her better, this stranger.  The truth is, the 4^th of July reminds me of my first loss so it has been at the forefront of my mind.  My husband and I took a trip to Bermuda right after that first miscarriage.  I remember sitting on the beach, watching the fireworks, and feeling happy and sad in one moment; fearful and content.  I had no idea what was in store for me.  It makes me realize one thing, I am lucky.

July 4, 2006 Bermuda

A close friend of mine had fertility issues and struggled to get pregnant for a while.  She just about gave up.  But, I told her that she cannot give up for her baby.  She had to keep trying and fighting for it.  I convinced her to keep trying.  “Just one more round of IVF,” I said.  “You can do It.”   I knew that she would get her baby.  I felt it in my bones.  Her twins will be celebrating their 2^nd birthday in September.  She didn’t give up.  And I realize, we are lucky.



 A friend of mine just had a miscarriage.  It felt strange to be on the other side.  Normally, it would be me sitting in the hospital, feeling the loss, but it wasn’t me this time.  I was on the other side.  My heart broke for my friend.  I am supportive.  I am there.  I understand.  It wasn’t me.  It felt weird.  But it made me realize one thing, I am lucky. 

This morning my 3 year old woke up in my bed.  She had a nightmare in the middle of the night so we brought her in.  I had to wake her up around 9 am to start getting ready for her dance camp.  I whispered to her, “It’s time to get up,” she woke up without missing a beat, “ugh,” she said, “that was a loooooong rest, I had.”  I laughed out loud.  I mean, really laughed.  And then she said, “Look at that picture on the wall, that was from your wedding day.”  I mean, who wakes up full force?  I laughed harder and harder.  “Oh my God,” I thought.  “How lucky am I?!!”

Getting pregnant and pregnancy in general is hard.  It really is.  It is a process.  It really isn’t fun, if you ask me.  But, it adds to your story.  It makes you, you.  I hope that nobody has to feel what I felt.  But, I know that isn’t the case.  Women are feeling it all the time.  But, I hope they never give up for what they want in life.  I didn’t.  I kept fighting, picking myself up, dusting off, and getting in those trenches again and again.  And look at me now.  My 3 year old daughter told me today that I’m the best mommy in the world.  My other almost 1 year old daughter put her lips up to mine to give me a kiss for the first time today.  I fought for them.  I never gave up.  I am lucky.

Identity Theft

I was going to talk about the role of the mother about how a woman can sometimes lose her identity as she spends her days and life catering to her children.  I was going to talk about self worth, how sometimes moms don’t feel it.  I think about my grandma.  Did she feel it?  She raised 6 children.  She didn’t have a moment to herself until she was 60.  From the minute she was married, she started the course of bearing children and raising them, one after another, after another, after another.  The house was boisterous, I am told, but filled with love, of that I’m sure.  She was home to dote on her six children.  They walked to school and came home for lunch.  They jumped out of bed at night and ran around the house.  They climbed to the roof, got into fist fights (the boys), had boy trouble (the girls) and gave my grandma a lot of stress but with that came a lot of beautiful love.  She never had a moment to herself, but I never heard her complain.  She was and is a beautiful woman. 

“Do no great things, just simple things with great love” –Mother Theresa

She did small things with great love.  She raised her 6 children well.  What an accomplishment!  My grandma didn’t have a career or a hobby.  She married the role she was in; simply.  And that is the key to happiness, isn’t it?  To marry the role you are in.  Whatever it is.  If you are a stay at home mom, do it to the best of your ability; find joy in the every day. If you are a working mom, try to balance it out.  If you are a single girl looking for Mr. Right, forget about it and just live your life. Marry where you are in life, because it is exactly where you put yourself.  Knowing it is all your own doing puts it in perspective, for sure.  But is it enough?  If we marry the role we are in, are we still growing and evolving?   And, is it enough for said mother?  Is she fulfilled?  I’m not talking about doing. I’m talking about being.  I’m talking about the inside.

So the question remains, what exactly fulfills?  Huge question, I know.  And I know there isn’t any one answer. 

I feel like people are always thinking about what else is out there.  People always want more.  But, we can get it, hold it, and look at it, but does it fill you up inside?  If it is a “thing,” probably not!  Or maybe it does.  I guess it is different for everyone.  It doesn’t take away the fact that we still need to grow on the inside.  I still want to be growing when I’m 60.  I want to explore my soul but I also want to be content in where I’m at.  Growth is an important thing for every human being.  We need to grow inside and out, constantly. 

Our children are growing and learning and understanding.  They are finding joy in the small things.  A simple voice change and they are transported to another world filled with enjoyment and imagination.  Inspiration.  They don’t have to ponder fulfillment because they are fulfilled inside.  They are too young to question it or understand it.  They simply, are.  Should we learn from them?  Can we?  Always.

I was watching my dad watch my daughter play.  He was just staring at her as she pretended she was the cat in “busy busy town.”  He said, “I can watch her all day.”  The truth is, we can learn more from our children than we can from anything else.  Because it is in them that we learn how to just be.  We can sit and just be content watching them grow.  They have the answers to all of our questions.  My children help me understand myself more.

After all that, my conclusion is simple.  Identity and fulfillment are intertwined.  My children didn’t take away my identity; they gave me a new aspect to my identity.  In actuality, my identity is growing and in that, I am being fulfilled.  I’m me, but I added “mom” and “wife” to my old identity.  Isn’t that growth?  I’m a mother and a wife, but I am myself and more. And I will also find time to be myself outside of mom and wife.  Even Wonder Woman took off her costume to be just her regular self.  She stripped off her crown and put on her regular clothes.  She didn’t always have to be wonder woman, walking around saving lives.  How exhausting??!!  Even she needed a break to just be her.

With anything, I’m hoping for balance.  And I know that balance will make me be a better mom.  After all, it isn’t about being happy when.  It is about being happy now, no matter where you are.  Be you.  Marry yourself.  Find balance.  Be happy. 

“Count your blessings, name them one by one.” 

Green Head Flies

Va.ca.tion n

A period of time devoted to rest, travel, or recreation.

Yeah right??!!

Some very smart woman once told me that sometimes life is like a tampon commercial.  You know the commercial; everyone is having a ball.  This vacation was like a tampon commercial.  It promises you will be biking and swimming, just having the time of your life.  When in reality, nature gets in the way.

We rented a house right on the beach for 5 days.  High expectations.  Don’t we always go into things with very high expectations?  I’m picturing myself sitting in a beach chair while my kids build a sandcastle under the umbrella on a nice warm, but not too warm day. 

Reality Check

Baby is crawling into the sun, throwing her hat off, climbing all over me, sand in the diaper.  Green head flies are biting the crap out of my kids, and me and it is a blazing 90 degrees. 

Dang it.  I’m always getting caught up in the near perfect image in my head.  But the reality of it is that it will not ever be perfect.  It just isn’t possible.

The truth is, it is like we plopped our house on the beach and someone said, “have fun doing the laundry and cleaning up toys.” I know, I know, I have kids.  In turn, it shouldn’t be called a vacation anymore; it should be called a family business trip. If you aren’t at a resort, it isn’t a vacation.  Get a clipboard and a pen, it’s going to be a long night packing up the car.  Do we have everything?  Should I break out the stopwatch and whistle?  It is going to be even longer unpacking.  But it is the in-between that involves an array of emotions.  Because that is where it all happens.  There are new surroundings and people.  We have new beds and rooms. 

New everything = crapshoot.   

Will they sleep?  Will they eat?  How many meltdowns will they have? 

Pretty good, not really, and around 3 or 4.  Not bad. 

There were moments where I felt completely at peace and then there were times that I was counting down the minutes until bedtime.  There were moments of great fun and then moments of utter exhaustion.  I really don’t like when people say this, but here it goes…”it is what it is.”  We are parents.  We have small kids.  We have to take care of them and try and keep normalcy, no matter where we are.  There were moments where I felt like I belonged in crazy Ville.  And there were moments that I was so so so happy to be watching my kids play in the sand.  There were moments when I was holding a crying baby and trying to get a whiney toddler to eat, and then there were moments of quiet and stillness. We squeezed in beach days, a few dinners out, and a trip to the amusement park.  We got beautiful pictures and the kids had lots of fun and laughs. 

We didn’t get a ton of quality family time, though.  Between the naps, food shopping, cleaning, cooking, diaper changes, baths, bedtime, etc…. there wasn’t much “time.” It was just a constant flow of movement. In and out the door.  Up and down to the beach.  In and out of bathing suits.  In the ocean, and out for sunscreen.  Back and forth to the house for meals and naps. Ups and downs.  Rising to the occasion and falling flat.  Wonderful and the not so wonderful.   Then the trip was going, going, going….gone.  And now we need to decompress. 

I realized something on my not-so-perfect vacation.  I realized that life is not ever going to be what you expect it to be.  It is going to be what you make of it.  It is going to be what you craft together with your hearts and souls and weave with your minds and intentions.  Sometimes I get lost in my intentions. And, maybe it doesn’t always measure up to the perfect image in our heads.  Sometimes people don’t measure up to what we expect of them.  Oftentimes, our kids will not act perfect in front of others. 

But all of these things are ok.  They are ok with me.  I know I’m doing the best I can for my family.  I know I’m trying to create the best life for my kids.  I’m trying to have the best times.  And even though it gets hard and there will be hiccups, I know that all of this trying and loving will pay off in the end. 

I know that life isn’t perfect.  I know that I’m not perfect.  I will never claim to be.  

But I do know this…

I know that in the end, my not-so-perfect vacation will end up being one that I will look back on with fondness and treasure in my heart, green head flies and all….