Two Minutes….

Time is a tricky thing. Sometimes it flows seamlessly and every minute makes sense and every hour is what you imagined. Other times, it stalls completely. Making you stop and stare into space, and wonder how it is still not lunch time at work – can I get an amen. And then, there is time in your life where it does the opposite of slow down. It’s as if you blink and years fly by. You grasp to make them slow down and hold your breath because, surely, if you aren’t breathing, time cannot continue at its current speed.

I’m never sure what to do when time speeds by me. I’m never sure how to handle the speed at which it can fly by. How do you slow something down that, technically, is always moving at the same speed?

Today is one of those days that feels like the blink of an eye. It’s the Bug’s birthday. He is two today. TWO. T.W.O. When I reflect on this, I am positive that there has been a break in the space/time continuum and the passage of time in respect to my specific life – because the world revolves around me and my family, of course – is not moving correctly. It must be fixed, it must be figured out and corrected so that I can slow it down (except when it comes to lunch time, carry on time/speed warp). If you were to ask the Bug how old he is today, he would promptly tell you six. You would then proceed to tell him that his brother is going to be six in November, not him. As you ask him, again, how old he is going to be; he will look at you, smile, and then say two minutes. It melts my heart. every. single. time.

People, come on. Come. On. This kid has no idea how true that it is. I swear I just packed a bag for the hospital. Also, I still feel terrified because I needed to have something that rhymes with smea-smection. It wasn’t fun, but boy am I glad it was available. Saved little Bugs life. Thinking back it really does seem like a short amount of time. The truth of the matter is, that some days it feels like it has been exactly two minutes since he was born – side bar: some days it feels like a lot more than two minutes, but it’s his birthday so we won’t talk about those days right now.

I cannot really explain the time warp that is parenting. I can’t figure out how some days seem never ending, yet some seem like they never happened. I can’t explain this phenomenon, but what I can tell you is that I am going to celebrate because even though my brain is having a hard time computing the passage of time, the Bug is two today. And, that, is pretty wonderful! We are going to smile and laugh. Eat donuts and have cake. Open presents and listen to stories. And when I kiss him goodnight tonight, even though it has already been two years, I’ll pray that the next ones won’t feel like two minutes.

 

20 quick steps to killing it as a parent…

1. Get caught up at work, leave later than anticipated.
2. Get stuck in traffic.
3. Pick kids up at daycare slightly later than usual.
4. Kid’s current hunger level = Could eat.
5. Drive to the grocery store.
6. Kid’s current hunger level, now that they have seen food = Could eat a lot.
7. Rush through the store and get milk, ingredients for dinner, and ice cream because…#supermom!
8. Kid’s current huger level = Asking for food every two minutes whilst saying how hungry they are.
9. Grab a loaf of French bread as an impulse buy on the way to the checkout because…#bread
10. Blood sugar crashes while in the store – start to feel dizzy and slightly faint.
11. Fumble through checkout.
12. Take kids and food to the car.
13. Kid’s current hunger level = literally licking the shopping cart handle.
14. Take the entire end of the French loaf and stuff it in my mouth in an attempt not to pass out on the short drive home.
15. Share some bread with the kids because…#fair
16. Get home and start making dinner.
17. Continue to feed myself and the kids bread the entire time I make dinner. Plus I added butter so….#winning.
18. Kid’s current hunger level = continual bread. #Satiated.
19. Serve dinner, meatball sandwiches, because #health #whole30
20. Kid’s current hunger level = NOT hungry, their stomachs are literally full of bread.

Oh well, ice cream for dessert.

You have GOT to leave your children..

So, there went June, did it hit you in the head on its way out? Nope, just me? Okay, well never mind, I’ll just be over here icing my head while I try to figure out how it is only 24 weeks until Christmas. Sweet Baby Jesus (literally) where is the time going? The summer is half over, we haven’t even been to the pool yet. #parentfail

Anyway, June, gone. Here is the thing, June was really busy for us. I know, its busy for everyone, but I have a point. In June I had to go to a conference for work. It was in town, so I was commuting each day, but it was early mornings and late nights and my husband was a rock star. Did I mention that? He watched our children, fed them, clothed them, got them to school every day AND I came home to a clean house at the end of the week. #dadskillingit

So between that week and the busyness that is life in 2017 (ugh, half-way over 2017) I feel like I barely saw my children. And, here comes the shocker. I missed my kiddos. I. Missed. Them. A. Lot. #what

Here is the thing, sometimes I wish that I could catch a break from my kids. I know, don’t tell them. I don’t want to break from them permanently, I love them. But, you know it’d be nice to just have a plethora of funds so that anytime I want to go for a run or needed to  run an errand, or; you know, go to the bathroom alone I could ring the nanny and she would materialize in front of me and then poof off I’d go to do my business. But, as we all know for most of us this is not the case. (For those of you that do not relate to this, I would be glad to take any nanny off your hands at your expense so you can experience this and lament with the rest of us parents) #broke

However, this past month I got those little breaks. One in the form of a conference where I was up early and home late and so it was small kisses and quick bedtime stories and the second a night away with my husband. #grandparentsforthewin

Here is what I found out. I missed my kids like crazy. All of sudden, I wasn’t frustrated or exhausted by them. They weren’t messy or dirty or needy. They were these cute little angelic beings that just wanted to cuddle and make cookies and go to bed the first time I asked. It was amazing. #winning

I thought about them more that week and weekend then I had in a long time. I just wanted to spend time with them. I vowed never to be on my phone again in front of them. *this promise was promptly broken* They were just so cute and loving and adorable and my little heart needed their little hearts desperately. #mushymom

It was in this moment that I realized why everyone tells you not to lose date night. It’s not a suggestion, it is a necessity. Fellow moms (and dads) we need time away from our children. You need time to regroup, to breathe, to love like them again. I didn’t even realize how bad I needed it until I finally had it. I love my children, but getting a short break from them may have saved their my life. In the midst of a busy month I was able to get a little bit of breathing room and it helped me gain a perspective that I desperately needed. #perspective

So, suggestion to all my fellow parental units. LEAVE YOUR CHILDREN. Not alone, unless of appropriate age (6 years, 140 days, 12 hours, 50 mins for us, but who’s counting), but leave them nonetheless. Ask a grandparent, a sibling, a friend, a young teenager who you don’t know that well but you found on Nextdoor, anyone you trust; to watch your children; and then run. Maybe not literally run, but go shopping, go out to dinner, heck go through a drive through, but quietly. It doesn’t matter what, the point is, just go. You can go read a book or drink finish a hot cup of coffee. #lifegoals

Now, I know it isn’t always easy to find someone to watch your children, so this is where us other parents need to come into play. Find a single parent or a couple in your neighborhood, or school, or church, and offer to watch their kids. Just once, for a night or an hour or two on a weekend. Allow them to drop those kiddos off and not worry about them. You can get 350 ready to fill water balloons at Costco right now. Pick those up and the kids will be fine for at least 10 mins. I have no idea what you should do with them the rest of the time, maybe pretend you are looking for towels, but you’ll figure it out. Just entertain them any way that is possible so that their parent(s) get a moment to fall in love with them again. Give them the chance to miss them. I promise they will come back so excited to see those kids, they may just return the babysitting favor. And, all you had to do was pick up 10,000 pieces of water balloons out of your yard. That is no big deal for the sanity of another parent. It is totally worth it. Because of everyone in the world, no one gets this crazy parenting thing like another parent. So let’s help each other leave our children. The world will probably be a safer better place because of it. #icanbabysit

Back when I was a great mom….

Do you know what the hardest part about being a mom is? The kids. Before I had kids I was an amazing parent. No, seriously, I was incredible. Do you know that I never yelled at my kids before they existed. I was never frustrated with them. You should have seen my patience at a restaurant. Kids loved me. I was the type of parent that never got mad, never yelled, got down on the floor and played with my kids, and would never, and I mean never, ignore my kids whilst looking on my phone. And, not once, did my kid ever throw a fit in public. NOT ONCE. One might even say I was the perfect parent. Supermom. Even though we all know she is just an illusion.

However, somewhere along the lines, some time after I had kids I lost so much of what made me a great mom back then. The truth is I do lose my patience at restaurants. I do get frustrated. I do yell. I’m not proud of these things, but they are true. The thing is back before I had children I was way better prepared for them. I had anticipated every situation and knew exactly how I would respond should I ever find myself in said situation. I had spent a lot of time figuring out exactly how to talk to my child and handle them so that I wouldn’t yell, or get frustrated, or lose my temper.

So, what the hell happened?

To the night you don’t ask me to

I worked a long day. I fought a headache for the record books. The bug was already in bed when I got home. I snuck in his room to hold him close and say goodnight, but he was all ready for bed. I hate I didn’t get to see him. It was 7 and I hadn’t eaten dinner. I ate hotdogs, while the Basher completed mazes next to me. I was tired and we didn’t talk much. I asked him to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. I tucked him in and said goodnight. I left his room. I started laundry and heard him calling me. I didn’t want to go. I have things to do. I’m too tired. I already put him bed. I went anyway.

His said his lips hurt. I gave him chapstick. I put him back in bed. He asked me to stay. I sighed. I didn’t want to. I have stuff to do. It doesn’t matter if I stay this time right? He told me we didn’t get to spend much time together today, so would I lie down and cuddle with him. I said no, but I got into his bed anyway. I couldn’t really say no to that. I wrapped my arms around him because he won’t always ask me to. He didn’t talk. He usually talks. I didn’t talk, or scold, or sigh. I just held him. Held him and prayed. I stayed and I held him and let him know that I love him. Only this time I didn’t say it, I showed it to him. I finally got up to leave.

He looked up at me as I left. Mom, thanks for staying with me tonight. Of course, I said, I love you. I almost didn’t stay?!? It meant so much that I did. I hope he remembers this. I hope I remember this. I hope he remembers that his mom stayed with him. I hope he knows I’ll always stay.

The days are long sometimes. I feel the hours like weights. I get to the end of the day and I wonder how much more I have to give. I wasn’t sure if it really mattered if I stayed tonight. Was he just avoiding bedtime? It happens. But, he asked me to, so I stayed.  I showed him in that small moment how important he was to me. And, I know that someday these nights won’t happen and I am not prepared to say goodbye to them.  Some nights it seems like there isn’t enough. But, sometimes I have to stay anyway.  I can hold him because he asked me to. I’m so thankful for these moments that remind me about the importance of being a mom. His mom. I try to stop more often, but sometimes I get caught up and feel like I can’t stay. But today, even though I was tired and had other things to do, I stayed. I stayed and held him, because some night, he won’t ask me to.

 

And then….Spring

Yesterday was the first day of Spring.

Do you know what is wonderful about Spring?

It ALWAYS follows Winter.

ALWAYS.

For me, Spring is the promise of new things. Spring is when the dormant, the dead, the lost becomes alive. It is when flowers bloom and trees come to life after months of slumber. Winter is raw and cold and dark. Spring is light and warm and new. Spring is faithful. Spring is hopeful. Spring is HERE.

Sometimes life seems so much like winter. It is dark and cold and raw. Sometimes things happen and Winter seems overwhelming and it bares down on you in a way that is hard to comprehend. But, no matter the darkness of Winter, Spring is only a few sunrises away.

Stay with me please….

Last night, the Basher got sick. Like gross, wash the sheets more than once sick. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t pretty. It was yucky. And, it was heartbreaking. There are few things harder as a parent than when your child is sick and there is nothing that you can do to help them. To top that, he was trying so hard to be brave and not cry, that I almost started bawling.

After we finally got out of the bath and new sheets on his bed he lay down. I lay down next to him to try to get him to sleep. He fell asleep pretty quickly, it was very late. Once asleep I got up to take care of a few more things. Shortly after that I heard him screaming my name. I ran back in his room expecting to start washing sheets again. Turns out, he was just scared, because he woke up and I wasn’t there. I told him he didn’t need to be scared, that I was just in the other room and he needed to sleep. But, he thought that I would be there and I wasn’t. I turned to leave and he said, ‘Stay with me please, mom.’

I stopped short. This little one was scared. He didn’t feel well. He was cold and felt sick, and at that moment the only thing he needed; the only thing I could really do was stay with him. I was next to him in an instant and didn’t leave until my husband relieved me, so I could get some sleep too. (He’s a really amazing dad)

Ever since then I haven’t stopped thinking about that. The fact that in that moment what calmed my son the most was me just staying with him. He just wanted to know that I was there for him. He may not have needed us again last night, but he needed me there just in case he did. I wasn’t even holding him, I knew he was exhausted and needed sleep, but he couldn’t sleep without my husband or me there. This was something that only we, as his parents, could do for him. And we, as his parents, would have stayed with him forever, if he needed it.

I couldn’t help but think about this in the wake of what is going on in our country. Our country is hurting and spilt. This isn’t a political debate, it isn’t about who you did or didn’t vote for; it’s about the fact that some of our family are scared and hurting right now and don’t know what the future holds. You can support one camp and still be there for those that support the other one. It’s one of the things that I love about America; we don’t have to agree to be part of the same family. In fact, most people don’t agree with their families on everything, but when one of them is upset you come around them and help. We’re all Americans even if I don’t agree with you. Some people may be right and things will be worse, others may be right and things will be better, it may be that things will remain the exact same. But, like my son last night, people are scared, so maybe the most we can do, until we know what is going to happen; is let them know we will stay with them. All night, if we need to.

Entertaining Kids

 

This is how I feel when my kids are standing in their loft full of toys and they tell me they are bored…

I look around and I think, how could you be bored? Look at all these things you have to play with. It can’t be possible that you are bored. Do you know what I had to play with as a kid? That’s right, lots of toys too. Now, go entertain yourselves.

Have you ever tried to entertain children? Sometimes it is literally the hardest thing you can do.

When Basher was born my husband and I decided not to have a ton of toys. In fact, for the first couple of years of his life we didn’t buy him hardly any at all. I wish I could say that this continued, but somewhere between us making this decision and then 4 birthdays, 4 Christmases and the birth of the Bug later this is no longer the case. In fact, we have a loft full of toys. In general, we haven’t bought the majority of them, but they still exist. In my house. And, my kids have access to them.

So, please riddle me this fellow parents, or people of wisdom if you are not a parent; how do my kids have tons of toys and I still hear the words, ‘I’m bored’ come out of their mouths?

It is really unacceptable to me. Especially when I have seen first hand my sons play with a box for like 2 hours. I have since decided; I don’t believe them anymore. And, even though I am their mom, I can’t entertain them ALL. THE. TIME. They have to learn to do some things on their own. I won’t always be around, you know. Besides, I know the inventory of toys that we have, as I try to sell give them away whenever I can smuggle sneak them across the border out of the house when they aren’t looking. In fact, I’m dealing giving away matchbox cars if you want any. We have around 100 of them. (that i know of) So, I know for a fact there is plenty to play with and they should never be bored.

Therefore in the future, I am not going to entertain their whims about boredom. They will have to do that themselves. In fact, whenever my kids say they are bored I will remind them that they have a limitless imagination, so being bored really isn’t possible. Now go entertain yourselves, lest you find the inventory toys gone one day.

I’m not broken, I’m a mom.

We have all seen it happen, read the story, shared the story on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram…We have all cringed and maybe for some of us, we have been the receiving end. We have questioned, gotten mad, maybe said something or stayed silent, but I doubt any of us have never heard of it happening.

It is that moment when a mom or dad is attacked for (insert WHATEVER here). Maybe she was breastfeeding in public and some awful person thought it was their right to tell her not to FEED her baby. FEED. HER. BABY. Or, maybe she was formula feeding in public and some awful person thought it was their right to tell her not to FEED her baby. FEED. HER. BABY. Maybe it is a parent who isn’t following their kid around the playground enough. Or, a dad whose daughter is running around wearing a spiderman costume instead of a princess one. Or a mom whose son is playing with a babydoll – oh man, god forbid.

Every time I hear, see, experience one of these stories, my reaction is the same. Who the hell are these people, anyway? I’m talking about the attackers; the people who think they know better, the judgers. Every time I hear of them or experience them I can’t help but think. Who are you people?

I’m often taken aback by the audacity of people to get involved in another person’s life. I’m not talking about friends being involved in friends lives. I’m not talking about family who know what you are going through and are trying to help you see the light. I’m talking about COMPLETE. FREAKIN. STRANGERS. attempting to tell you what is up. I know these people are in all parts of life. I know they permeate all types of people, but they seem to be especially involved when someone is a parent. Why is that? When a women becomes pregnant is there some sort of signal released to the universe that says I am now open for ridicule?

I remember when I was pregnant with my first. One day I was at work and someone said the following to me – I kid you not. ‘You don’t look as bad as you did yesterday, but you still look pretty tired today’ I think I just stared at her. How does one respond to a compliment like that? I’d like to say that was the only time someone said something like that to me, but it wasn’t. I also remember when I made the very painful and tear filled decision to stop nursing my son. I couldn’t keep up and I wasn’t producing enough and it was terrible and someone told me I was being selfish. Of course they didn’t have to listen to him scream because I didn’t have enough milk, but they had no problem telling me that I was a terrible mother. They didn’t even know me. Literally, I was a stranger, but somehow they thought it was okay to give me a personality evaluation and determine I was not good enough. I felt so broken. I felt like I was so wrong. If this is what a stranger thinks about me, my family and friends must think I’m a complete failure as a mom.

Who was that person? There are children on the streets fending for themselves as toddlers because of bad parents and you are worried about my decision to formula feed? There are teens being sold into slavery and you are worried about the mom breastfeeding in a Target cafe? Who are you people? A child was almost kidnapped and it was caught on camera and the comments from the majority who watched it was that the mom remained too calm. TOO CALM? Her child was almost kidnapped, if she had went psycho on that guy, people would be telling her to calm down and deal with the situation so she doesn’t scare the child. Again, who are these people?

I’m not entirely sure where these people come from. It may be that there only used to be a few, let’s say like 5, but as they started making comment after comment, people who had a latent a**h*** gene began to surface and multiply and now we have so many that we have to deal with the problem. Or, maybe they have always been around, but it wasn’t until I was a mom that I noticed it. Wherever they come from we need them to stop and think before they go around stating their opinion on things they know nothing about. You have no idea what road someone is walking and so commenting on the state of their shoes does not help them. We have to stop attacking parents just because they are being parents. It’s really hard to be a parent, but telling someone they are doing it wrong just because it’s not the decision you would make doesn’t make it any easier. Being an imperfect parent doesn’t mean you are broken, it means you are a parent.

I always hated the saying, ‘just walk a mile in their shoes.’ Have you ever walked a mile? It’s not that long. In fact, I would wager that most people could walk a mile. Most of us probably walk that in a day without even trying that hard. Don’t walk a mile in someones shoes and then tear into their life. Walk a year or ten or through the death of a parent or child. Walk through the birth of their child and through the tears of kindergarten. Walk through a promotion and the loss of a job. Walk through their brokenness as well as when they are put together. Walk through their new house and walk with them when they have to clean up the flooded basement. And then, and only then comment about their life.

And, when you do comment encourage them. Encourage them on their walk. Encourage them in gain and encourage them in loss. Encourage them when they are whole and encourage them when they are broken. And, if you haven’t walked with them and you aren’t part of their tribe encourage them anyway because maybe they have never been encouraged; or maybe they don’t have a tribe, or maybe it’s been a really crappy day as a parent and realistically they just need it. But don’t ever, ever attack them. Ever. After all they aren’t broken, they just have kids.