Made of Iron

I like the fact that Jessica Simpson is on weight watchers and having a little bit of trouble losing her baby weight.  I like the fact that she gained 70 lbs.  I loved that on March 20^th 2012 she would say on Jimmy Kimmel she was due “any minute” and didn’t end up delivering until 6 weeks after that comment, May 1.  I love it because I did the same thing.  I occasionally fudged my due date at times when someone would walk up to me and say, “Wow, any day now, right?”  “Yup,” I would answer at 32 weeks pregnant. ‘You are about to pop,” they would yell.  “Any day now,” I would respond at 36 weeks.  Clearly I shouldn’t have been THAT big?  You do what you gotta do to get by and to ensure someone doesn’t say, “are you sure there aren’t twins in there?”… Blah!

Back to Jessica Simpson.  I do not like how they call her fat in the tabloids.  I hate how they are so hard on her if she shows up at LAX airport in a big dress carrying her luggage and a few extra pounds.   I love how she is real; I hate that her actual physical existence is made out to be unworthy and unlovely.  The thing is she is so absolutely beautiful and I’m afraid she is not as aware as she could be of it.  She has been ripped from her pedestal time after time.  Mom jeans, big pregnant belly, she is not losing the baby weight fast enough and so on and so forth…

Jessica Simpson, I'm on your side!  

I’m glad she had a girl.  I hope she can raise her to tune out the bad comments and be real amongst all of the phoniness that surrounds her life.  I hope she succeeds.  I hope for the same for my girls.  Phony is everywhere…not just in Hollywood.  We all battle our self- image.  We all battle the petty small= minded “tabloids” of our time.  How do we cope?  How can we tune it out?  Image.  Pressure. I’ve had my Jessica Simpson moments.  I’ve been in situations where another woman will continuously praise another woman’s fit body in front of me to the point where I leave the conversation with my head hanging in between my legs, my shoulders slumped as low as the floor.  It isn’t done on purpose, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t feel bad.  Throw me a bone.  Are my eyebrows waxed evenly?  Anything?  Bueller?  If you are going to throw it out so freely over there, can I get a little nudge over here?  But, I know… it is no good to have to seek approval from others.  We have to be strong enough inside.

With that said, I feel like raising girls is going to be hard in terms of making sure they have a strong self-image, strong coping skills and a healthy tune it out mentality. I dread not only the high school years, but also any year or thing that has the ability to break my daughter’s hearts- this feeling of being not enough.  Someone making them feel like that for one second is enough to make me want to run screaming in the other direction with my hands up in the air and a white flag between my teeth.  As a woman, I’ve been there.  Only recently have I been able to come to a place that I feel that I am ok, even with those 8 extra pounds. There is such a standard to live up to.  But we cannot chase it forever.  We have to try and chase the path to good health and come to terms with our healthy selves.  I have to try and teach my children that! Because really…this other standard is made up by whom?  Someone steering the ship and pressing those buttons, yelping an evil laugh, and saying in that witch of a voice, “let’s see what they will do now.” Beep, beep…Baahhaaaahaaa….

In th end, we aren’t made of steel.  But, I guess we have to be strong enough within ourselves to battle those critical moments with armor made of iron not as strong but just as durable.  These harsh critics are planted in our lives to make us stronger.  Am I right?  We can get through it, if we lean on supportive people who raise us up and ignore the ones who point and tease.  Live and let live.  Love yourself, but not too much.  Ha! And teach my children to fight back with goodness and trip the ones that really make them cry.  

Is there an App for that?

I just joined Good Reads.  It has an app for my IPhone.  So now, I have to click on that app 30 times a day.  Add it to the list of distractions in my day.  Apps I need to click on every day, multiple times a day:

Facebook

Text Messages

Goodreads

Twitter

Words with Friends

Email

Instagram

Photos

Camera

WW Mobile

People

Pandora

Groupon

Weather

Living Social

Lord, Help me.  No, that’s me talking, not an app.  I’m sure if I checked the App store, “Lord, help me,” could be one.  The problem is, I also have a kindle, a television set, and hmmm….kids!

Sometimes I find myself holding my 1 year old by her waist, sideways, as I check my ‘words with friends’ games and slide that “D” into place… Is “DU” a word??  I know it is bad.  I find myself in conversation, thinking about my IPhone and its apps in all of their glory.  Right now, I have my phone next to me, my kindle at my feet and the television blaring loudly, “So you think you can dance.”  Eyes up, down, to the side, and back again.  Aye?!  We wonder why we are distracted human beings.  I know I am.  Where has the simple life gone?  It is passing me by as I check my phone and how many notifications I received from the picture I posted on Facebook.  Help! 

My husband and I tried an experiment about a month ago.  We were going to put our IPhone’s in a box when he got home from work.  We were only allowed to check them again right before bed.  It worked for about 1 week.  It was great.  But, I found myself wiping beads of sweat from my forehead every night until bed.  We don’t have a lot of time and we need that time, but we are buried in our phones.  “Hmmm, what did you say?” Excuse me but I must update my facebook status to, “Home.”  No seriously, I’m not that bad, but it is close.  BUT…I’m not the only one to blame.  He has fantasy football now; 3 teams.  I’m sure that is an app…right?! 

But wait??!!  Remember our kids!  My poor kids will grow up thinking they have to fight for my attention against that phone.  My 1 year old cries whenever I pick it up.  I don’t blame her.  I’m not “in the moment” when I have that thing in my hand.  I’m not listening.  I’m not engaging.  I’m not being me. 

Truth be told, I’m a little over stimulated.  My mind is always racing.  Did I text my friend back before when she asked me about baby acne?  Did I forget to respond to that Evite?  I can hardly keep track of the things I have to get done, because of that dang phone.  Today, I left my phone at home when I ran to the grocery store and I actually felt ok without it.  After the shop, I started leaving the store and the cashier said to me, “Honey, you forgot to pay.”  Really?  I laughed it off and looked at the lady behind me.  “You have a lot to take care of,” she said pointing to my girls.  Yes, I do.  I have a lot to take care of.  I think I need to take care of my phone a little less.  It honestly made me think that I need to make a change.  It is one thing to be distracted at the grocery store as I try to give my 1 year old snacks, load the groceries, and keep my 3 year old close.  But, quite another when both of my girls are home and cute and playing, and I’m thumbing through my phone.  I don’t want my life to be all about distractions, not living in the moment, forgetting about the simple life that we all grew up in.  The quiet.  Imaginations.  Conversing.  One on One.  I cannot get distracted from THAT.  Who will I be?  A robot.  A mindless IPhone junkie?   Sometimes, I need those distractions.  But, not always, not constantly.  I don’t want my kids to be all about their phones either when they get older.  They saw me doing it, so I’m sure they would think it is ok.  Who could blame them?  Not me.  I want them to be outside and cherish their minds and imaginations.  I want them to have an outlet, not an IPhone.  I want myself to have that too. 

So, what to do now?

It is time to make a change.  I’m not going to throw my IPhone in the toilet or anything, but I’m going to put it on the back burner.  Not on the stove…but of my life.  I’m going to make an effort to live in the moment and find a piece of the simple life again.  If there is an app for that, I’m getting it.  Just kidding. 

I’ll let you know how it all goes…..

For now, I’m going to post this blog, turn off my computer, slide to unlock my IPhone and then slide to power off, turn off the television, and open my kindle and read.

 

Check out the commercial that sparked this blog!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpeoRIvnxfk

Keep Calm and Carry on

Last week was a beautiful week.  I finally graduated to something called, “school.”  Hello?!  Heaven.  I get to drop her off and have time...3 times a week?!  Really?  Where was this before?  I love it, I love it, I love it. (kicking my leg up high).  Why did I wait so long?  It is a thing of beauty.  I had a great fall week, saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and felt peace and contentment.  It was the best week that I've had in a while.  Schedules are back, we got a groove, and we are feeling good.  Well, most of us.  My 3 year old daughter is adjusting. She did absolutely wonderful but, she is adjusting.   I think she is feeling a little out of control with school and dance and time without Mommy.  So, she is trying to control something, that something is her poop.  BLART! More to come on that fiasco…

Last Saturday, my friend and I went to an exercise class and then stopped for coffee.  We went next door to a cute little shop that sells gifts, trinkets, bags, shoes, and everything in between.  They displayed beautiful signs with inspiring quotes all around the store.  I always find myself wanting to buy things like this, but I never do.  One of them said, “Keep Calm and Carry on” I have definitely seen it before, but I really wanted to buy it.  I looked at my friend and said, “I’m somehow writing a blog about this.”  I had no idea what to write about, until today.

Isn’t it true that our children are completely in tune with our demeanors?!  I remember when my 3 year old was born, I was determined to be calm and relaxed so that she could be calm and relaxed.  She was the calmest baby ever.  A dream.  I had a little more anxiety with the second, and so did she.  Is it her nature?  Could be?!  Is it me…possibly?!  A mixture of both, absolutely!  Sheesh!  I probably created half of it. Ha! 

Lately, I have been trying to recognize the moments of high anxiety and squash them.  Kaput.  But, there are moments that I feel stressed and overwhelmed and all hell breaks loose in my house.  Go figure.  I can’t see the fact that I caused it until later.  Hindsight is 20/20.  And then there are other times that I remain completely calm in the face of adversity and I surprise myself that I can be like that.  I surprise myself as a mom, in a good way for once. 

Back to my 3 year old.  She hadn’t pooped since Wednesday night, the night before her first full afternoon of school.  ie., she is CONSTIPATED with a CAPITAL P!!!! Get it?

Day 5 and going strong.  Today was the day that s”it hit the fan….

I will not go into detail but let’s just say it was a s”it show....

Surprisingly, I stayed calm instead of getting worked up to match her fear.  I was able to relax her and get a handle of the situation.  People who know me know that I am a pretty calm, controlled person, but sometimes I can be short, strict, and impatient.  Days that I am hopped up on caffeine, I guess.  Anyway, we got through it and then I thought about that sign in the store.  Afterward, (an hour and a half later) I sat with both of my girls and colored.  I felt a sense of peace and a sense of pride.  I was able to keep calm and carry on.  We got through the moment and moved on to the next thing.  We all colored in peace for a little while.  I wish I could always be like that.  I know it is impossible.  We can’t always be cool, calm, and collected all the time, not with these kids running the show.   We all have days that we lose it.  And we all have days where we feel like we can do it.  We have moments that we feel like we are pretty good at this.  Vice versa.  A good week, a good day, everyone is happy; it means nothing if I can’t be good for my daughter when she is in pain and needs me.   It means nothing if I’m short tempered when she needs me to be relaxed.  I’m glad my feathers stayed unruffled this time.  I’m glad they pointed in the right direction at the right time.  Tomorrow, prune juice to the rescue!!  Any other ideas?  Hopefully we won’t have another repeat performance.

Anyway….I wanted to buy that sign but I was thinking that I had no where to put it.  It was black and white and doesn’t go with anything I have.  But, who cares!!!  I’m going back to get it.  I’m going to hang it somewhere I can see it.  Remind myself not to get anxious or overwhelmed.  Remind myself that it is all ok.  Remind myself to keep calm and carry on….

NOTE: Keep Calm and Carry On was a propaganda poster produced by the Government of the United Kingdom in 1939 during the beginning of the Second World War, intended to raise the morale of the British public in the event of a Nazi invasion of Britain. It had only limited distribution, so was little known. The poster was rediscovered in 2000 and has been re-issued by a number of private companies, and used as the decorative theme for a range of products. It was believed there were only two known surviving examples of the poster outside government archives^[1] until a collection of 15 originals was brought in to the Antiques Roadshow in 2012 by the daughter of an ex-Royal Observer Corps member.^[2]

Nine Eleven

My husband and I struggled with fertility, which was heartbreaking at the time.  But, it was nothing; at least we had each other.  I thought about the fact that I almost lost him and that would keep me up at night, not my fertility issues.  I wanted a baby so bad but if it would only have been he and I, it would have been enough.  Tragedies do that to a person.  It gives a person perspective.

I remember that day so clearly; seeing the tower on fire; the one that Chris worked in.  I remember going up to my little TV and counting the floors with my finger to try and see what floor it hit.  Was it the 60^th floor where he worked? 

I remember waiting for the phone to ring.  I remember thinking that if I never got to talk to him again, I would never be the same.  I thought about the wedding day we wouldn’t have and the kids we would never be able to hug.  I thought about it all and waited, and waited for that phone to ring.

I remember wanting to hide under my bed when the second plane crashed and feeling the hope in my heart crash with it.  I remember it all so clearly.  I was scared.  He was in the building when the plane hit.  He was on the 22^nd floor.  He felt the building move from front to back.  He thought his life was over but he stayed calm.  He kept walking…slowly down the stairwell….

I remember the busy signal.  I remember the phone ringing off the hook with the wrong people on the other end.  Not Chris.

He would make it out and spot his father in a sea of faces at just the right moment.  He would keep walking with his dad and never look back.  He would reach safety and make the call…. 

The phone rang hours later with his voice.   I received a collect call from “Heff” (his nickname) and then it disconnected.  My disconnected heart, felt hope again.   Relief.  Later that day, I was able to speak to him and he told me that he would never be the same.  I didn’t care who he was, as long as he was here.  How many people were never the same after that day?  Hundreds of thousands…millions……  Me included….

Right now, my 3 year old is sitting next to me and she makes an expression like Chris.  It literally brings me to tears.   My 1 year old daughter looks just like him.  I always told him he would have made a beautiful girl J  every day, it makes me so happy.  Today, it makes me cry.  Everything does.  I’m sensitive to the fact that I almost lost him.  I think about it often, but especially today. 

Chris, to me, is a light.  Everywhere he goes, he brings light.  He is special and I’m thankful for his second chance.  We were able to create a life together and start a family.  Our 2 girls blessed our life.  It was almost taken from me.  It was taken from so many.  It isn’t fair.  I mourn the lives lost with all of my heart, especially Peter O’Neill Jr; his buddy. 

I pray and pray for everyone.

I remember it all. 

I will never forget.

Under Control

I was in the grocery store a couple of months back and there was a mom there that was pushing her shopping cart forward while pulling her triple stroller behind her filled with screaming kids.  Hands. Full!  Yikes.  I had to look away.  She looked weary and I kind of smiled to myself for some reason.  Not at her expense, just because….Just because I wasn’t her.  It made me smile.  Is that mean?  I hope not.  It isn’t meant to be mean because I do really feel for her.  It looked hard.   But I was thankful for a calm morning at the grocery store.  I was happy it wasn’t me, that time. 

My friend (with 3 kids) texted me a few weeks later…

“Went to the grocery store today with (3 year old) son in the cart and (6 month old) in the baby Bjorn.  Passed a man who said, ‘boy, u have your hands full.  I didn’t know if I wanted to tell him to F off or tell him no but thanks I am enjoying life and have everything in control.  Then, I looked down and my boob is leaking.”

I started laughing…hard!  I LOVE getting texts like this because it always makes me feel human.  AND…it makes me laugh…not at her expense…but because it is hard and I get it.  Just when she thought she had everything under control, she looks down and sees that.  Shear comedy.  And that poor innocent man who we all just want to give the finger!  Can’t he keep his mouth shut and just smile at the baby?  Move on down that aisle old man.  Keep walking.  I love those people that have an unwelcomed opinion about everything.  I think things like this about other people and about myself sometimes, but I don’t say it.  You don’t say it.  The voices in our heads don’t always have to make a sound.  I got the text when I was alone and on my way to the store.  My parents were watching the girls.  I was happy it wasn’t me, that time.

Yesterday I took my girls to get my afternoon coffee.  I squeezed it in before nap; squeezed in tight and through a minuscule window of opportunity.  Squeezed like 10 lbs of potatoes in an 8 lb sack.  Remember when I laughed at the lady in the grocery store and at my friend’s text.  Remember when I was happy it wasn’t me.  Hi Everyone!!!  My turn.  My lips pressed into a straight, hard line and my arm pits perspired profusely in the 10 minutes I was there.  Everything was absolute craziness because both girls decided to go a little mad at the same time.  From waiting on line, to paying the cashier, to waiting for the coffee….madness!!!!  Sweaty!  Uncomfortable!  Impatient!  MESS!  The funniest thing about it was that I saw my friend’s husband working quietly at the table. I attempted to say hello.  He can vouch for this.  I think I tried to have a conversation with him.  I think.  But, all I saw was a crying, messy 3 year old and a baby/toddler running off in another direction.  My peripheral vision was ON HIGH ALERT!   I FAILED!  (F-)  I’m sure he was happy it wasn’t him as well as everyone in that place!

It makes me smile though…all of it. (Right now at least) 

If we don’t take it too seriously, we can all get through it fine. 

If we can laugh about it.

 If we can keep our head about it.    

If we can stay calm. 

If we can always remember that it won’t always be like this. 

If we can smile at the hard moments and at the beautiful ones just the same….

If we can trust ourselves when others doubt us.

If we can, we will! 

Shock Value

I was in Starbucks the other day holding my 1 year old.  An older man, probably in his early 70’s commented on how cute she was.  He went on to ask me if she was my first.  I told him it was actually my second.  (My 3 year old was home with grandma).  He responded, “I had 3,” and rolled his eyes.  I said, “How was that?”  He made me laugh when he said, “By the 3^rd one, you forget about them and just leave them everywhere.”  I left the store giggling to myself. 

But, it got me thinking….

Clearly he was joking but it led me to question; is the shock over by the 3^rd?  So, I went on a hunt.  I’ve been talking to other moms and dads about what they think the biggest shock was to them.  Was it the shock of their first brand spanking new baby?  What??  I’m in charge of THIS!!!! HOW? Or, is it when the 3^rd one arrives?!  “Two of us.  3 of them.  Do the math.

After talking, asking, and wondering, I have come to these semi-conclusions

0-1

It is a lifestyle shock.  Your entire life will now completely change (if you are a good parent at least).   It isn’t feasible to do late nights out, multiple times a week.  If you do, you feel like complete crap when you have to wake up at 5 in the morning or earlier, or even a couple of times at night.  Sleep deprivation is big.  Those people, who used to be able to sleep until 10 am on the weekends, now have to get used to the “new”morning.   

Rise and shine Mommy and Daddy, baby is awake and needs a bottle, a diaper change, and entertainment.  I hope you aren’t hung-over.

Not only do you have to get used to a lifestyle change, you have to get used to the idea of being selfless.  You can’t go from here to there to here and there again.  Well, you can but make sure to have a strong arm to hold that heavy carrier seat.  And make sure to have a bottle, burp clothes, snacks as they grow, and some toys…maybe a blanket to lay down on the floor, a binky, a sweatshirt in case it gets cold, extra diapers and wipes, a change of clothes in case they spew on themselves, ETC, ETC, ETC. 

You are a family now.  Your baby is your TOP PRIORITY!  Soooooo….get ready to WORRY about this top priority.  New parents reach a whole new level of anxiety. 

Are they sleeping too long?  Check their breathing. 

WHY DID SHE JUST SPIT UP SO MUCH?  Is she sick? 

Should I Google why my baby is not rolling over yet at 3 months??!    

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Finding time for yourself gets easier as the baby gets older, but when that baby is born (and through that first couple of months), get ready to have some shaggy hair, tired eyes, and a baby in your arms at most times.  AND…get ready to rely heavily on HELP---any way you can get it.  1 baby…Welcome to parenthood! 

Shock Value-7

1-2

Divide and conquer?!  ---OR, get ready for them to conquer you!!!  Haha!  When my second daughter was born, I headed straight to the doctor within the first 2 weeks because I couldn’t catch my breath.  “Are you overwhelmed?” the doctor asked me.  “No,” I responded.  “I’ve done this before.”  “You’ve had 2 children before??”  Ummmmm….no.  Am I in for it?  Is this anxiety?  Am I in shock?

With 2, you must divide your time, energy and responsibility.  At first, it is extremely overwhelming.  You have late nights again with the baby and then managing your bundle of energy toddler during the day??!  Wait…when do I put down my screaming infant to tend to my screaming toddler??? If it was a weighted scale, it would be hovering on even.  At that point, you just have to juggle it.  You have to figure it out.  That attention that overflowed with 1 gets cut in half with 2.   “Me” time also gets cut in half.  When you had one and he or she slept, you were good.  You had time to unwind.  It was nice.  Ahhhh, we would lay on the couch on a Sunday afternoon and drift off watching football.  With 2, one is always up and in need of your attention.  Now you have 2 meals at a time, 2 butts to wash, 2 bed time routines, 2 babies to keep happy; double the work.  Double as hard.  When talking to other moms, I have found that 1-2 is the Biggest Shock of all.  All of the sudden, one seems like a breeeeezzzzeee!  Remember when?! 

Shock Value-8.5

2-3

Numb to the chaos. 

I was at the park last week and a random grandmother was there with her grandson.  We started talking and she asked me if I was going to “go for the boy.”  I’ve probably heard that 40,000 times.  But, I don’t mind much.  It doesn’t really bother me.  “If I did, I know I would get a girl,” I said honestly and with a smile. 

“3 is a big decision,” she responded.  “You have to think about the expense of children.” 

Uh huh.  (Nodding my head).  Gotcha.  As if I didn’t know that random grandma stranger.   Thanks for the tip.

Drawbacks of 3: It is harder to get someone to watch your 3 kids.  People are less likely to want to babysit with 3 versus 1 and 2.  (So I’ve heard)

I don’t have the experience of going from 2-3 but I have talked to a lot of moms who have.  They found it to be manageable.  Even my mother-in-law said that having the third wasn’t as hard.  You are already knee deep in.  I hear that with the third, you can enjoy the baby; relish in those coos.  You’ve done it all so you aren’t nervous anymore.  Do you still need to check their breathing when they are sleeping?  Not unless you are really a nervous Nelly!  By the 3^rd, you know they will be fine.  You’ve got it.  By the third, you can sit back and enjoy…as I’ve heard.  Doesn’t sound so bad?  But, it isn’t for everyone because you have to be ready to really be spread thin and time to yourself seems to be of the essence.  But, they play together nicely and you can sit back and watch your lovely family enjoy each other!

Shock Value-4

For me, the shock of 1-2 was definitely harder than 0-1.  Juggling the time and attention is something I take seriously.  I don’t want anyone to feel slighted.  I hope they will grow up without comparisons and with the feeling of being equally loved and cherished.    It was a shock for me but one that gets easier as they grow and as time marches on …

So, what was your biggest shock with expanding your family?  Comment below or share on the ‘Growing Ladies’ facebook page

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