Tag Archive: bff’s

In case I forget

Written on January 20, 2010
53 Opinions - Talk to me

This is a hard time in my life. Very hard. In my trying to make it through each day, I find that I’m forgetting things. Small things. Things like, I’ve needed to buy more Tums for a week. (Can someone explain to me why I still get heartburn when the boy is nearly 16 months old?) Things like, my printer has needed ink for three weeks. Have I been places where I could buy these things? Oh yes, many times over. But I forget when I’m there, because my brain is on overdrive trying to figure out things, that it just doesn’t understand yet.

Where is my plug for my iPod? Why can’t I find my 2008 taxes? Did I give Morgan, Bailey’s lunch today? All very good questions. Things I’d normally be able to give you answers for. Right now though? You guess would be as good as mine.

Anyway, I have a few things that I wanted to remember. In case I forget later. I thought it may be good to write them down here.

-I’ve been having trouble getting Bailey to eat. It’s slowly getting better. She’ll eat for me, but she’s still not eating much when she’s with her dad. It’s the stress, it just makes her un-hungry. Also, she’s a complete mama’s girl. However, when you are only in the 4th percentile for weight, you can’t afford to miss many meals.

Anyway, last Thursday she came into my bedroom in the morning and we had this conversation:

Bailey: Mama, guess what?

Me: noticing that she is butt nekkid. Um, I don’t know, you forgot how to put clothes on?

Bailey: No.

Me: An alien ate all of your clothes while you were sleeping.

Bailey: NO MAMA.

Me: It’s nekkid day at school and I missed the memo?

Bailey: laughing. No silly.

Me: I give up love. What?

Bailey: I’M HUNGRY. Like super-dup really hungry mommy. I NEED pancakes.

Me: cries.

I took them to ihop for breakfast and then took them to school an hour late. Sometimes, it’s just the right thing to do.

- Harrison does this thing where he makes you get up from where you are sitting to follow him. He pulls on your finger and makes you follow him around. Sometimes it’s to retrieve his Mater car from someplace where he can’t get it. Sometimes it’s to show you the fridge. Or the mess he made of the dog food again. Sometimes, he wants you sit somewhere else. Like two spots over on the couch. Or on the other side of his train table. It’s very adorable. We call it, Harrison’s adventures. He’s taking us on an adventure. When he’s done with you, he lets go of your finger, but not until he is done. He’s a very cute little dictator.

-The girls and I have been watching American Idol. Although I’m a mean mom and I make them watch it the next night. I can’t handle watching it live. Commercials and I don’t really get along. I also need to able to fast forward during some of it. The other night, we were watching the second episode from last week. Morgan and I were both covering our face and plugging our ears at the same things. Go past this mom, she kept saying. It’s too painful. This person shouldn’t be on the show. Agreed baby girl. Agreed. Last year, she made me suffer through it all. This year? She’s come over to the dark side. The, I can’t stand to watch people make fools of themselves on TV side. It’s about dang time.

-I have posts that I’ve written. Posts that I’m unsure if I’ll post. Or if I do, I will try to give you guys some other stuff to read as well. I adore you all. But I know, that you worry. That I worry you. I know that I’m depressing to read these days. That honestly may not change for awhile. But I need you to know that I am okay. This space is my outlet. It always has been. I write things here, that I’d only say out loud to my mom, my best friend and my shrink. I promise you all, I am okay. Not great, not even good, but okay. I am taking care of myself and my kids. We are surviving. One day, we will get used to this. We’re not there yet. But we’re all taking the right steps.

-In other news, I’m going to be working on my blogroll for the next few days. It will be on the page marked friends. Right now if you hit the friends button, it just has the post I wrote about 31 unknown bloggers in it.

If you’d like to be on my blogroll let me know and I’ll make sure to add you.

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Let me see if I can dial it down a notch

Written on January 5, 2010
18 Opinions - Talk to me

In this moment, I am a little tired of talking. A little tired of thinking. Basically? I am just freaking tired. Physically, emotionally and mentally. I thought I’d try for a lighter post. Not because I don’t have a million things to say, mostly because I’m just not in the mood. We’ll see how well I do at this.

First off, do you see my beautiful new site? MommyGeekology designed it for me and I’m absolutely in love with it. It’s so pretty and shiny and new. It needs me to do a little work to it, but it’s fully functional. MommyGeek is awesome to work with and answered EVERY SINGLE STUPID ASS QUESTION that I asked her. Even when I asked her the same thing three times. If you are looking at redesigning your site, I highly recommend her. You can check out her personal blog or her Rent a Geek site. She does all kinds of stuff, that I couldn’t even begin to explain to you.

Second, I really did have a great trip last week. I can not even begin to tell you how wonderful it was. To escape for a few days, to spend time with friends. Re-remember how to laugh and joke around. I think it had been weeks since I’d laughed much at all. I had dinner with Kirsten. Her and Liz and I talked for hours, until I almost fell asleep at the table and they made me leave. (Sleeping hasn’t been my strong suit lately. As in, I pretty much haven’t slept in weeks.) Emmie and her boys drove from far away, just to come have lunch with us (or in my head, so I could give her a hug), which was so sweet of her. Truly, it was funny to see the four kids chasing after each other. I could have missed seeing Caroline drink ketchup, but besides that, it was a great lunch. (Actually being around Caroline was pretty much like seeing Bailey at two years old again.)

I played with Liz and Ben’s amazing kids. (I promise you all, Thomas really is that smart and Caroline really is a little wild child. They are sweet and funny and wonderful.) I met Liz’s family and friends. I got to joke around with Ben in person. The man is funny, sweet, kind and a great friend…oh and um tall with lots of hair on his head. ;)   (I also feel like now is the time to thank him publicly for sharing his wife with me for five days.) I saw some random movies…we don’t need to discuss Liz making me cry by watching Grosse Point Blank. Okay, that wasn’t her fault. All me. Completely. Liz and I went to some of mine and her favorite places on my last day there, which was better that six months of therapy. Oh and I ate PRINCESS CAKE!!!!

I had a great trip. No, I had a fabulous trip.

Lastly, I want to thank you all for your kind words the last few weeks. My goal is to answer my emails and respond to comments in the next day or two. But I want you to know that it means the world to me that you all have been so kind and supportive.

That’s all folk’s. That’s the extent of my positiveness. Done. Ha.

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Because somedays love and heartache go hand in hand

Written on December 30, 2009
76 Opinions - Talk to me

Nine months ago, I met my best friend on Twitter. Her name is Liz. Maybe you’ve heard me mention her? Once, twice, twenty-two times possibly?

Met is a strong word, considering it is Twitter. In that moment, I didn’t know she’d be my best friend within seconds. What? Okay fine, minutes maybe. Ha. Felt like seconds.

We went back and forth on Twitter for a few days. I felt a little bad when I realized she’d been following me for months and I’d never bothered to follow back. She’s quiet like that. I stopped feeling bad, when I realized she’d read my previous blog and NEVER EVER COMMENTED. Ahem. She swears she would have on this one, one day.

One night, I don’t remember what I wanted to ask her, but I didn’t think it should be out there for all of Twitter to see, so I DM’ed her. Which led to, I believe, two solid hours of DM’s back and forth, before one of us was smart enough to say, do you want to chat in Gmail? That first DM to her, is the best decision I’ve made all year.

The rest is history. We are twins. Twins from another mother. Seriously. Sometimes it’s frightening how much alike we are. Other times I wonder who this crazy woman is and why in the world she likes me. Maybe I think that often. Only because I’m really the crazy one, not her. She’d yell at me for that. Calling myself crazy. She yells often. It’s always the quiet ones, I swear.

Some find it funny when I say I met my best friend on Twitter. Some find it insane that I can say someone is my best friend, when she lives 4 states and 1237 miles away from me. I don’t know that I care what “they” say. What I know is this: nine months ago, I met the greatest friend I’ve ever had. The end.

I love saying that. The end. I *may* have stolen it from Liz. She says it to me all the time. As in: the end, I’m right, you are wrong, now go do what I said. The end. She may be bossy. And stubborn. And…oh um, I’ll stop now. I kind of need to make sure she comes and gets me from the airport this morning. See, I’m going to spend New Years at her house. I really need to make sure that she picks me up.

This had been a hard year for me. The last three months have been very, very hard. I don’t know that I could have made it without Liz. I’m not joking. She has been like a rock for me. Screw that, she has been my rock. She has been there every time I’m fallen, to pick me up and duct tape me back together again. When I tell Liz I’m sinking, she reminds me that duct tape doesn’t sink, it floats. She doesn’t flinch when I show her the worst parts of myself. She yells at me when I need yelling and reminds me to breath when I forget. She knows the absolute worst things about me, about my life and she still loves me. She loves me enough to never let me push her away, which I am really good at trying to do. It’s hard to let someone that close, to show them all of your inner scars and heartaches and not feel like you’ve shared too much. To not want to shove them away, so you don’t have to look at them the next day. But she never, ever lets me. For this? I am eternally grateful.

Today, I am, for the first time ever, looking forward to New Years. Because I am about to leave my house and fly to spend the next four days with my best friend and her awesome family. That makes today a great day. Today I get to hug my best friend a million times. Today I get to cry and be a spaz in person…okay maybe not. Am mostly joking about the spaz part. The crying…eh, I don’t know that I can help it. Or the spazziness really. Oh well.

I’ve done a lot this year. Met some amazing people. Made some amazing friends. Friends that I don’t think I can imagine not having in my life. Friends, who make me laugh, let me cry and vent and help me hold myself together. For the first year ever, I feel supported by amazing people. People who know the real me.

I’ve done some things I never thought I could do. Hai, I flew to Chicago to meet bloggers. Loads of them. In person. Alone. I talked in front of a room full of strangers and didn’t pee myself or faint away dead. Course I did have phone hand holding for oh an hour before I did that. Seriously. I flew to Vegas to meet Liz In September, not knowing for sure if she was an ax murderer wanting to kill me. LOL. I never believed that….although some people I know did.

I’ve dealt with some things that I thought would sink me forever.

I was able to do it all, because I knew I had someone holding my hand, reminding me that baby steps are okay; reminding me that it is progress to get to the next day. Someone who lets me hide sometimes and other times, does not let me hide at all; for knowing the difference and knowing which I needed most in the moment.

I have wanted this year to end for a long time. Next year may not be any easier. I know the first part of the year won’t be. I know that because last night, my husband and I decided that he needs to move out. Meaning, last night he packed some bags and left. It was not just his choice, but I wasn’t/am not prepared for the things I heard. For the reality that is my new life. I’d like to say he’s moving out for awhile, but from what I hear, it’s probably for good. There is a lot I could say, a lot that needs to be said. But right now, I just can’t yet. I am broken. My heart was shattered and I need a few days before I say anything more about it. It’s been hard enough to say it at all.

For me, today is a mixed day. I am wrecked after last night. I am numb. It hasn’t fully sunk in. I knew it was coming, had weeks to prepare for the actual conversation, but it didn’t make it any easier. It may have been one of the longer, harder nights of my life. I don’t know what my life holds when I get back. But today I get to go away from it.

Today is not a day for this. There will be tons of time for it later. Today is a day for happy stuff. I get a break from this for a few days. A break from my life. Today I get to go see my best friend. And that makes it all better. At least for the next four days.

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. Hopefully 2010 will be a better year for us all.

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The 24 hour rule

Written on November 2, 2009
25 Opinions - Talk to me

Two years ago Logan and I decided to make a 24 hour rule about Halloween candy. The previous year had been an absolute nightmare. Morgan snuck candy at every possible chance. We found wrappers hidden for months. The girl managed to find it anywhere we hid it. She became this little sugar obsessed loony. Which wasn’t very pleasant in a four year old with ADHD. We swore never again.

We invented the 24 hour rule. Its very simple really. For 24 hours after trick or treating, they can have as much candy as they want. True to form, they ate a ton of it and by the end of yesterday, they were over it. Neither of them has looked at the bowl of candy since 6pm yesterday. It looses its appeal after a bit. From here on out, when I say, one piece of candy, neither will argue. Whatever is left in a week or two, I will throw away. Last year, I tossed more than half of their candy. Basically whatever is left by Thanksgiving is trash.

The downfall of course is that last night, we had to peel them off of the ceiling.

At 8pm, which was really 9pm, but isn’t anymore (I hate time changes), they were both still bouncing off the walls. They are normally asleep by 8:15pm. I couldn’t even get Bailey to put a shirt on. She couldn’t stay still long enough.

Logan and I just watched them dance around in circles for like 20 minutes and by then it was getting close to 9pm. Nothing we said, nothing we did was helping. I’d started thinking that the 24 hour rule was not a smart one.

We finally decided to separate them. I took Bailey into our room and he stayed with Morgan.

I climbed into bed, pulled her in with me and turned out all the lights. She fidgeted for a good ten minutes and then finally I felt her start to settle. Her words got slower and quieter. Eventually she fell asleep.

I considered getting up. I had laundry to do, dishes to clean, I needed to call my mother, I’d heard my cell phone beep three times which I knew were texts from Liz, and we had The Amazing Race on DVR to watch. But I didn’t. I stayed there with my baby girl. I stayed with her all cuddled into me. I listened to her breath and I played with her hair. I breathed in her smell: Gain on her clean PJ’s, melon scented shampoo, bubble gum toothpaste, and the smell of her. The smell of little girls, the smell of my little girl.

I stayed there. I fell asleep with my baby girl. Funny enough, Logan stayed with Morgan. Neither of us got up.

At 5 and nearly 8 years old, they always sleep in their own room. They never sleep with us. This was nice, a nice sweet change. Made me think that the 24 hour rule is not such a bad one.

Hey friends, one more thing, can you guys do me a favor? My evil plan worked and Liz started a new blog, called Lacking Super Powers. Would you mind going to visit her? It’s all pretty and shiny and new over there. Heck, she even posted. Give her some blog love for me? Thanks so much.

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Honest revisited: Liz’s version

Written on October 28, 2009
17 Opinions - Talk to me

So here’s the funny thing. Jenna at Avasmommy tagged Liz for the honest scrap meme. The same one I did yesterday. She tagged me as well, but I’d already done it. (Love you Jenna.) Anyway, Liz and I were talking and she said she wanted to do it. I said, on my blog or yours and she said on mine. No matter what she said below, I promise you, this was HER IDEA.

I’m not sure exactly how to get her to write on her own blog, but until then, I’ve given her free reign here.

Honest revisited: Liz’s version

1.  I really, really don’t feel like doing this right now.  However?  I told a friend I’d do it tonight.  A best friend.  ;)   We shall see if I can make it to ten…

2.  I like Oreos.  But only the seasonal ones.  If they aren’t seasonal, then they have to be double-stuffed for me to eat them.  I know they say that the seasonal ones are exactly the same as the regular ones.  I don’t think it’s true.

3.  I have a moderate addiction to Bejeweled on Facebook.  What?  You don’t think “moderate” describes it correctly?  Maybe you are just jealous that my score is better than yours…?  No?  That’s not it?  OK.  Fine…  Moving on.

4.  I don’t drink.  Mostly because I’ve never found anything that I really like the taste of.  I don’t like fruit juice, so that eliminates the majority of mixed drinks.  Also?  It’s possible that I’m a bit of a control freak and the idea of being drunk in any way, shape, or form scares the crap out of me.

5.  I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  I also have no idea when I’ll be grown up…

6.  I have a very low pain tolerance.  Or, you could say, I’m a big baby.  Epidural for labor and delivery?  You betcha!

7.  When I make Thomas’ lunch, I draw a silly picture on his napkin.  Some days I wish I had never started doing it because now it is expected.  Other days, it makes me feel like a good mom.

8.  I don’t watch scary movies.  When I have nightmares, they are classic horror ones.  CLASSIC.  Like the serial killer is ransacking the house searching for me.  Or the chainsaw murder is cutting through the door.  Really.  And that is without watching scary movies.  Does that mean that what I fear most is fear?

9.  Dark chocolate is the only chocolate worth eating.

10.  I’ve been thinking about trying to start blogging again.  And/or considering what I want my blog to be.  And then, I look around at the laundry which multiplies like rabbits, the never ending trail of little socks up the stairs, the kitchen counter that sprouts gardens of dirty dishes from a few seeds…  And I think I’m crazy to even CONSIDER blogging with any sort of regularity.

Yay!  I did it!  Now I’m off to celebrate with a stack of Halloween Oreos and a game (or 25) of Bejeweled.

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Guest Post: Mommy Myths

Written on September 23, 2009
15 Opinions - Talk to me

Months ago, I asked Liz if she’d write a guest post for me. She said no. She may have even said, hell no. Brat. She had her reasons and as her friend I had to not bug her about it again. Okay, maybe I did a few times. Like once, twice…okay maybe every few weeks. I told her that she could have the keys anytime she wanted. My place is her place. I wasn’t going to hold my breath though.

It’s a mark of a true friend when you wake up one day, on one of the crappier weeks of your life, to find a guest post sitting in your inbox. One that you didn’t even think to ask for. One that makes you cry, because somehow it was exactly what you needed. I am a wreck this week, people. It’s not something I am ready to discuss yet. I will in time, I’ve seen too that. However, now is not the time. I’m not going anywhere and I’m sure I’ll post something on Friday for Harrison’s first birthday. Just give me some time okay?

Today, for me, please read what my best friend sent me this morning….late last night. One of those. Be kind to her. I’d really like to encourage her to start writing again on her own blog.

Mommy Myths-

So, nearly 5 years ago, I became ‘Mama’ when my first child was born.  A boy.  Cuter than all the rest–no really!!  You should have seen him.  5 weeks early.  I was woefully unprepared in SO very many ways.  For one thing?  My hospital bag wasn’t even packed yet…  But aside from the logistical preparations, I was also behind the game in the more emotional aspects.  And, looking back on it, I’m pretty sure that nothing could have changed that.  It seems like aside from actually stepping through the experience myself, there wasn’t a way around it.  So, here is a list.  A list of things I wish I had known, but wouldn’t have believed even if you told me.  Take it or leave it.

1)  Babies are TINY and scary. I had done my share of babysitting.  In fact, in high school and college my summer job was working at a child care center.  So, when it came to taking care of a baby, I figured I could handle it.  Baths?  Feeding?  Diapers?  No problem.  The truth?  The truth is that I found myself TERRIFIED.  Totally and completely.  In fact, when we got home from the hospital, we had to move the bassinet over to my husband’s side of the bed.  I was too afraid to have it on my side.  I could not stop checking to see if he was still breathing.  I could not stop worrying about how much milk he was getting and was it enough and when was his last diaper and was that within the normal range?  My husband likes to say that babies are like animals.  They can see in the dark and smell your fear.  It sure felt like it…

2)  Breastfeeding is not all rainbows and kittens. I don’t have much to say about this.  I’m not here to tell you what to do.  I just want to say that I did it.  It was the right choice for me.  For us.  For our family.  And I didn’t love it.  It was hard.  And painful.  And exhausting.  Did I enjoy it?  Sometimes.  Was it amazing and a “real bonding experience”?  Sometimes.  Did I frequently wish I wasn’t doing it?  Yep.  And did I feel guilty for being so happy when I weaned both kids at about 8 months?  YES.  I guess what I really want to say is that parenting is about trying and making the right choices for you.  And having the support from family and friends to keep from second guessing yourself too much.  I don’t like the nagging feeling of “coulda, shoulda, woulda”.  Make the best choice for you and have faith in yourself.  It’s all about confidence–something I generally lack.

3)  You can’t do it ALL. Serious.  Serious, SERIOUS.  This one I am still struggling with in a big way.  Not humanly possible.  At least, not for THIS human.  When my daughter was born two years ago, it took a FULL six months before “I just might be able to do this eventually” entered my head.  Yeah, it took six months before I even thought that in passing.  Not “Yeah!  I’ve got this mastered!!”  Not “Two kids is hard but doable.”  The simple, I *might* be able to do this SOME day.  I don’t want to hear how you have X number of kids and your dishes are washed every night and the clean clothing is always folded and put away where it belongs.  That hasn’t been my reality.  Our house is generally a mess.  My brain is pulled a million directions every day.  I have a running “to-do” list in my head that seem infinite.  And I look around at the showered, manicured people driving spotless cars and wonder why does it feel so hard for ME?  I have a full time job.  My husband has a full time job.  The kids are still young.  We are juggling a lot.  I’m learning to adjust my expectation of ‘realistic’.  At the end of the day, the kids are loved, and fed.  And most of the time bathed.  Some of the time at least.  ;-)   And the dishes?  They can wait for another day.  Really

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Oh heck if I know. Titles get so old.

Written on September 10, 2009
15 Opinions - Talk to me

On Friday morning, I’ll be flying to Vegas to spend the weekend with one of my best friends. No husbands, no children, no dishes to clean or laundry to do for three days. Squeeee. We’ll hang out, talk, wander, look at god only knows what, make fun of strangers and eat in restaurants with no kid menus. I’ve been looking forward to it for at least six weeks now.

Here’s the thing though, the person I’m spending the weekend with, is someone I’ve never met. You all know that I went to BlogHer and I met a bunch of you there. I’ve met a few other people at random times. I have yet to actually meet Liz. Mostly, because she lives about 1237 miles away from me. It’s hard to get together for coffee (which she doesn’t even drink) or ice cream or something, when someone lives four states away. So, we are going to VEGAS.

I think it was sometime in April or May when I first “met” Liz on Twitter. I’d been friends with her brother in law for four years. Friends, meaning I have stalked his blog and made a nuisance of myself over there for four years. In January I realized that his brother, Liz’s husband was on Twitter and starting busting his chops on a daily basis. Really, whats the fun of harassing one brother, when you can harass two brothers?

At some point one of them told me who she was and I followed her, only to instantly feel bad, when I realized she’d been following me for months. We starting talking back and forth on Twitter, which led to multiple DM’s one night and then talking on Gmail chat. It gets fuzzy at this point, because we basically talk most of the day. What can I say, she doesn’t think I’m insane. Or if she does, she hasn’t told me yet. Now she’s stuck with me.

I couldn’t not ask for a better friend. Truly, I am thankful every day for her. She’s helped me through a ton of crap in the last few months. More than that though, the girl makes me laugh, daily.

At some point we realized that we are Twins. Long lost, Internet twins, from another mother. Truly, the similarities sometimes still shock us, which at this point it really shouldn’t.

I’ll tell you a few random things about Liz, because I’m mean like that. I’d send you to her blog, but she almost NEVER blogs. Like, hai March was the last time she did, I believe. Okay, fine May. You can follow her on Twitter, but she isn’t on often. Maybe every third day. Might be my fault in some ways, because when she asks me what is going on today on Twitter, I tell her. I might should be like, go see for yourself. But? I’m an enabler.

One day she told me that she’d been reading my blog for a year, and my previous one as well, without so much as a single comment. Not one. I still give her a hard time for that. Often. Dude, we could have been long lost Internet Twins for years. Now she comments every few posts, but I yell at her, because she’s generally talking to me, as she is commenting. Silly woman. (Actually though, I do love comments.)

She has a score of 178,400 on Bejeweled right now. No matter what I do, she beats my score. Every week it resets itself and I get one decent score. Within an hour, Liz ALWAYS beats my score. I doubt I will ever beat her. However I will continue to try.

On Twitter, she occasionally says things like this, which make me love her even more: “It’s possible that I just woke up my napping daughter by burping. Loudly. I am *SOOO* lady-like.” She neglected to mention on Twitter that her daughter was upstairs in her crib, when this happened. Also: “Uh, guys? I know kung fu….” Which I’m not sure why she said it, but now I’m thinking I might should be scared.

A few years ago, I may have thought that meeting someone you’ve never met on the Internet is the weirdest thing in the world. Now I still find it to be weird. What? Just being honest. Ha. No, really, a few years ago, I wouldn’t have done this. I wouldn’t have even considered it. If you don’t believe me, ask all the people who wanted me to go to BlogHer in 2006. I told them all they were nuts. Now though, I wish I’d gone. Now, I can’t wait to meet my lovely friend who I talk to all the time.

Now I am just excited. A tiny bit nervous, cause what if she suddenly doesn’t like me? What then? But really, I’m just glad that I get a few days away, to hang out with my friend.

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The good enough mother

Written on June 29, 2009
37 Opinions - Talk to me

I have read about this whole good mother/bad mother/SAHM/WAHM/WOHM thing for weeks now on the Internet. Some of you have discussed it and beautifully, I might add. It all fascinates me, this thought of what a good mother is supposed to be. I’ve pretty much ignored it, because honestly, I know I am a good mom. I also know I am a bad mom. In my world you can be both.

Today, after reading Mom 101’s post about type B mom’s, I can’t seem to get this subject out of my head. I said this in Liz’s comments and it is completely true: On my best day, I am only a B- mother.

But who says that is a bad thing? What makes a mom a perfect mom? Whose opinion matters about that, except your children’s? We all think we are being judged and sometimes we are. I know I’ve been judged, many a time. However, I’m sure I think I am being judged way more than I probably am. Maybe a B- mom isn’t such a horrible thing.

We all share on the Internet what we want too. This was something that Mom 101 was saying in her post. We tell each other what we choose to tell each other. Some are more honest than others. We are given a glimpse at each others lives, because we choose to share about it in this public space. It’s only part of the story really. A small part for most of us.

Let me try this honesty thing for a second.

I, for the record, have never breastfed my children. Not because I see anything wrong with it (in fact, I find it to be beautiful), but because it wasn’t something I felt I could do. I was a young mother, maybe that has something to do with it, maybe not. It just wasn’t something I choose to do.

I sent my daughters to daycare at seven weeks old. I worked fourteen hour days sometimes in the early years of their lives. I know what it’s like to work full time and wish I was at home with my kids. I also now know what it’s like to be at home all the bloody time and wish I was elsewhere. I’m not sure that I’m good at either of it honestly.

My kids watch too much TV; they eat too much junk food; I consider french toast a dinner**; my son hangs out playing with spoons and Tupperware lids on my bed, while I play on the Internet; and some days I go and buy everyone new underwear, just because I don’t want to do laundry.

My kids have ridden their bikes without a helmet a time or two because I got tired of the argument. They have gotten sunburned a few times because I was dumb enough to not put sunscreen on them. We do not have a safety net around our trampoline. I have yelled at them for having meltdowns and then realized I don’t remember the last time they ate. My kids are not friendly when hungry, much less logical.

Somedays I yell at them, because of nothing. I regret those days. Other times they need to be yelled at and I let it go, to try and make up for the days where I yell too much.

My seven year old has way too much knowledge of the Internet and how to use it. My almost five year old can take the parental restriction off of the cable, without even trying. They both have iPods. They know what the menus at most restaurants have on them without needing to look anymore.

My girls are the most unscheduled kids in the neighborhood. In fact the only thing they’ve been scheduled for this summer is swimming and last week, they told me they just wanted to be able to just swim, not learn anything. So? I took them off of the list for the next set of lessons. There is no ballet, no gymnastics and no t-ball this summer. I should do those things, I am sure, but I just can’t seem to make myself sign them up, because truly, then I’d have to get out of the house and take them.

I worry about all of this and much, much more. I wonder what my kids will remember from this time period of their lives. If they will remember that I took them to Disney and the beach this summer; that we slept in, stayed up late and went to the park every few evenings to swing in the dark. Will they remember me reading Harry Potter to them each night? Will they remember Sunday mornings spent in Jammies, having wii bowling and golf tournaments? Or will they remember that this was another summer where I was short with them too often, where I cried too much, where I sent them outside to play too often.

I wonder if they spend too much time at my BFF Kate’s house. I wonder if they will one day prefer her, because she is that mom. The mom who does art projects. The mom who bakes things. The mom with all the patience of a saint. I am not that mom, although I adore that she is. I am thankful for her every single day. Is it okay that my kids spend so much time with my best friend? It has to be, because that’s the way it is right now.

There is no rule book. They didn’t come with an instruction manual. Trust me, I looked. And who says a B- mom is not enough? Who gets to make that judgement call? Who says a C mom isn’t good enough? Because lots of days, I am only a C mom. A solid C even, no plus sign attached.

Some days I think my kids are the amazing people they are despite me. Some days I think it might be in spite of me. On occasion I think, dam I am doing something right.

My girls are kind to friends, strangers, animals and especially their family. They think highly of themselves and each other. Self esteem: they both have it. Self doubt? Yes, they have that too, but a lot less then I did at their ages. They are honest, strong, brave and inquisitive. They are everything I could of hoped for in daughters and everything I hope their brother gets too.

We all have days where we think we are horrible at this parenting gig, right? Those who say other wise are lying threw their over whitened teeth.

I? Am a good mother and also a bad mother. Maybe, I am the good enough mother. But that has to be okay too.

** Okay, here is another thing. We say things on the Internet, then realize that even in a post where we are being brutally honest, we choose to fib a bit. The truth is, my dinner default idea is currently cereal. I stole the french toast thing from my lovely friend Liz (also know as @elizzieh), because it sounded better than saying my family currently lives on cereal. French toast is actually her default dinner, not mine. Liz, who I have to thank for um everything, was kind enough to read this and not yell at me about stealing her idea. In fact had I not brought it up, she is so awesome, that she may never have said a word. See? This honesty thing is hard.

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Snippets

Written on May 17, 2009
11 Opinions - Talk to me

He crawls away from me, until he gets to the edge of the door which will lead him out of our kitchen and into the den. There he stops, turns around, looks at me and comes back to play with the Tupperware again. He hasn’t found his baby wings yet. He hasn’t realized that we are not one yet. I am still his person. At not yet eight months old, I am his world. He lights up when he sees me in the morning and cries when I walk out of the room without him.

This is the way it should be. Yes, he will get over his separation anxiety soon. Yes, he will one day leave the room I am in on purpose. But not yet. I will savor the time until then.

******************

Logan: Iss, I think we need to eat at home this week. He reaches for another hot wing from the container in the middle of the table.

Bailey: Daddy, we are eating and we are at home.

Logan: Did you coach her to say that?

Me: Nope, she got that one on her own. Babe, I’m doing the best I can. Dinner is still dinner, as long as we all eat together.

Logan: Pause. I never thought of it that way. So, okay, dinner at home, no restaurants this week. But I don’t care where the food comes from. One week, lets just try it for one week, okay?

Me: That sounds like a plan.

******************

Morgan was as sick as a dog last week; food poisoning from some treat at the school. I’ve never seen her that sick in my life. Her long thin body, curled up on the bathroom floor in between retching. I sat with her, me and Harrison hanging with her on the floor until I finally decided to take her to Urgent care. I have been scared in my life; scared of many things. But nothing is scarier than watching your baby go as limp as a noodle from exhaustion and dehydration as you carry her too the car to take her to Urgent Care.

At 2am that next morning, she came into our room and said, mama I can’t go to school today. I know bug, I do. But it’s only 2am, I told her. Then I did something I rarely do, I pulled her into bed with us. She slept curled into me, nestled in between Logan and I for the rest of the night.

When I was in California, she slept with me two nights in a row. The two nights following my losing the baby. Those two nights, I felt guilty for, because she was there to comfort me. Now I know it works both ways. It’s okay for her to be a comfort to me on occasion, just as it is for me to be that for her. That’s what makes us family. Yes, she is seven years old, my first baby. But she is getting so big too. Big enough that we are starting to become friends in some way.

I want that, to be friends with my kids. Their mother first? Always. But friends too.

*******************

My Mom: So, Papa** and I are coming out mid-June. We’re hoping to find a house to buy while we are there.

Me: Really? That soon?

Mom: Yeah. I’ve already started working on my book and he’s pretty much finished with the practice. Jordan has a handle on it, he’s been there for nearly two years. The practice runs itself these days. We’re ready for the change. Ready for the new chapter in our lives.

Me: Mom, you know there is a house for sale down the block from us.

Mom: You’d want us to look at that? It wouldn’t be too close?

Me: No, not at all. We’d love it.

Mom: Oh I’m so happy to hear that. Ok, well pull the phone number, so I can call on it, okay?

Me: I will call them for you.

Mom: You know it’s funny, but so many people don’t get to say that their grown daughter is one of their best friends.

Me: I know, that’s just sad. God, I hope the girls and I are like that one day.

Mom: I know it will be like that for you.

**We call my step-dad, papa. Have since they got married when I was eight.

******************

Kate: Are you guys sending the girls to summer day camp?

Me: I don’t know. Maybe? We go back and forth on it. Morgan wants too, but Bailey doesn’t at all.

Kate: Yeah, Aidan doesn’t want to either. If we send him, you know he’ll fight me every single morning. It’s almost not worth the trouble.

Me: Yeah, I know. I want the time with them, the freedom to sleep in. Ha. But the reality is, I don’t know that I want to entertain them, or listen to them fight all day every day for the next 10 weeks.

Kate: Well what if we share the kids? Take turns on certain days? Split them up on certain days and then have a day a week where we all do something together? Then we can both say, have a day a week free and the rest will work itself out.

Me: That is awesome. I’m in for sure. Can I have Friday off?

Kate: I knew you’d ask me that.

Me: At least I’m consistent.

Kate: Um huh. Consistent, pain in the ass maybe.

*****************

I wake up late/early one night to the bed shaking. He’s sobbing, all 6′4″ curled up around a pillow, with his hand shoved in his mouth to be quiet. I comfort him and calm him down and then ask why he is so upset. I wanted that baby. I wanted that baby so bad that it hurts. I wanted you to never have to go through this again. I couldn’t fix it and I wanted too. You needed time to grieve, I had to be the one to not fall apart.

Well now it’s your turn I tell him. Babe, we will have another baby, I tell him.

I can’t even tell you how much I wanted to have another baby, he says. That baby, our baby.

We will. That one wasn’t meant to be. But there will be another try, another chance. If not through us, we’ll adopt. We’ll find our baby. The one that is meant to be in this family.

There will be another baby. I know it. I feel it. Not yet, I need time. But sooner than one might think, I’d bet.

*****************

It’s a crazy life, it keeps me on my toes, but it’s my life and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

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Maybe ice cream is magical?

Written on May 7, 2009
14 Opinions - Talk to me

Last night I received a call from my BFF at 8:49pm ish. She told me that I needed ice cream and she would be there to get me shortly. Any attempts to tell I her I didn’t need ice cream were met on deaf ears. She was coming, I was going to get in the car and that would be that. You don’t argue with the woman. I mean you can, but it never works out well for you in the end. Only I would argue with her about not needing ice cream.

Anyway, when she picked me up, she asked me where I wanted ice cream from and I replied McDonalds, for a McFlurry and she promptly told me she didn’t like that and we were going to go to Dairy Queen. At this point I have to tell you that with anyone else, I’d want to smack them, but this is part of why I love Kate so much. She is just like me in this way and normally we fight over who gets to be the most ridiculous in our demands. Last night, she won, because I really didn’t care to begin with and I didn’t have it in me to argue.

So we drive to the Dairy Queen, which happens to be a drive-thru and start to order our ice cream. Kate tries to explain to them what she wants, which is basically taking apart three different blizzards (two of which don’t exist anymore) and making one of her own. She explains it to the woman three times, each time saying it a little different, because honestly the girl has no idea what she really wants. After trying to explain it for the forth time, the woman, through hysterical laughter asks us to just please pull forward.

Pull forwards? Because hai, we have no idea what you want and um we need to look at you while we try and figure it out. I had tears rolling down my face at this point, because I was laughing so hard. Pull forwards? I have never had a single person say that to me before. When we pulled up to the window the chick could barely keep a straight face as she asked Kate to explain it. To make matters worse when they got it figured out, I said, I’d like the same thing, but with the truffle pieces in it. (Because who in their right mind, doesn’t want the truffle pieces?) Then of course, we knew one of ours, if not both would be wrong. But it didn’t really matter, because it’s ice cream, from Dairy Queen and we’d both eat it. And yes, mine was right, Kate’s was wrong and that made us laugh even more. I could just hear them thinking, couldn’t you people have gone and gotten a dam M&M McFlurry?

I laughed; we laughed, for a good twenty minutes. I laughed so hard that I had trouble eating my ice cream because my stomach and ribs hurt from laughing so hard. I laughed so hard that I had tears pouring down my face, in happiness for the first time in a long time. I laughed so hard that for an entire half hour, I forgot that a week ago, I was still pregnant. (Although it was a week ago last night, that I wasn’t any more.) I laughed so hard, that I forgot I was sad and depressed; forgot that my children were spending the night elsewhere, just so I could be sad and not worry them; forgot that I wanted to be at home, in bed, with the covers over my eyes.

In that moment, that small window of time, I remembered that I am okay. That I will be okay, that I will soon feel like a whole human being. That my heart will heal, like it has before. That the cracks will always be there, but they will fade over time. Sometimes laughing at…er um, with your best friend is the best medicine in the world.

Last night I dreamt about ice cream. Today, I woke up not crying for the first time in a week. Do I feel better than yesterday? Yes. Do I feel good? No. But you have to take it where you can get it. Last night, laughing was the best thing I could have done.

I want to thank you all for your comments. I want to hug you all for your kind words. I may email everyone, but I am having trouble with that, so don’t count on it. Just know, your words have helped me more than I could ever tell you. Your support means the world.

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