I have found this to be very true in my life; if you change your attitude,and change your perspective you will in effect change your life and your circumstances.We are only as miserable as we allow ourselves to be. If we decide to count our blessings rather than our problems, we will be much happier ( and have loads more free time!). Its easy to get down on ourselves and think,” Poor me! Look what life has done to me! I have nothing I want and everything is against me!” Yes, that is easy. We’ve all been there and we are all entitled to visit that place once in awhile. Pity parties are a right of passage. The problem is when we decide to dwell in miserable town; to stake a claim and make a life. Whats not easy is to say, “EFF you circumstances..you are NOT bringing me down! I am a fighter and I am about to kick your miserable ass! I will be happy, even if it kills one of us!” That’s what I want to teach my girls.
I’ve noticed lately that my girls are spending wasting an inordinate amount of time wanting things because others have them. I don’t mind if you want something for the sheer pleasure or id desire to have it, but I will not tolerate children who want things only because others have them. Lately, they want the same thing everyone else has but…bigger, brighter, newer. I don’t know where they have learned this. I am not materialistic. Wait! I love nice things, but the most important things to me are people and relationships, health and happiness. Things are just that…things. I grew up poor, things do not define me. Who I am, what I believe/stand for, what I make of myself, how I treat others..that’s how I measure my success. Not by the things that I own. But I see/hear my little girls getting upset because they are measuring themselves against what others have..material possessions. We had a big blow out over a friggin soccer goal. Oh yeah, you heard me correctly. My daughters have loads of toys, a swing set, a pool to splash in, every thing a kid could want..even a soccer goal. Apparently, theirs is not as large as the neighbors and so they demanded that I must buy them a larger one. WTF? I sat them both down (because I think you are never too young to learn this lesson) and told them to be grateful for those things they do have….their health, their parents, all the love in the world, a home, food to eat, a bed to sleep in, friends, and more toys then most children know what to do with. I explained that they already have a goal and the neighbor may have a bigger soccer goal ( that her parents probably found at a garage sale..lucky smart people) but they have so much more and should be happy for her that she has that nice big goal. I am trying to teach them to be happy for others successes, to measure themselves only against themselves , and to share and be generous. A life of coveting others things only leaves a person with an unsatisfied taste in their mouth. Be happy with what you have, be happy for others peoples successes and work hard to enjoy your own successes. Remember an uncelebrated success is a failure.You are what you think you are, so be happy!
Seems like just yesterday, in fact I think it was, Gabs was saying “Me this and Me that” and now I hear the “I”s creeping in. Of course, I am proud because she is learning to talk like a big girl and use her correct pronouns. But there is something saddening about my baby turning into a little girl. It’s letting go of one phase and starting another one. Much the same as I had to do a few weeks ago when Bella decided that her lovey “Fi Fi LaRUe” (the most adorable pink poodle ever) that up until then she could not sleep without..ever ( this little guy has been same day shipped when forgotten @ Grandma’s. It was THAT serious!) is not so necessary anymore. Normally, at bed time, there is a mad scramble to find FiFi. It is a major event and Daddy and I know there will be hell to pay if that little poodle ever goes missing. But a few days ago, FiFi was missing at nap time and Bella was all like,”It’s OK Mommy. I can live with out her for one nap.” OMG! And just like that..a dagger in my heart. I could care less about what happens to FiFi. It’s not about losing FiFi, its about this being a representation of losing yet another piece of Bella’s childhood. On to the next phase we go.
Parenthood is a lot like a roller coaster. You know what’s coming…you are excited for the thrill of a lifetime. You get on and as it climbs to the top, it feels like it is dragging on forever and the trepidation is building to almost combustible levels. Then you hit the top and away you go. You are on the ride of your life and it is over in a flash. That first year of my girls’ lives, everything seemed like it was in slow motion. We were wading through blindly waiting for life to happen..first teeth, first step, first word….all kinds of firsts. Then you hit that 1 year mark,the baby’s mobile and away you go. Suddenly, your whole life is on fast forward. All you want to do is hit the brakes but there’s no stopping this coaster once it gains momentum. Here I am, right smack dab in the middle of the ride..holding on for dear life, having the thrill of my life. I just wish I could slow it down a bit and enjoy the scenery a little more. It’s going so fast, I feel like I am missing parts of the ride and afraid its going to be over way too soon.
Quick , someone tap the brakes, Mama wants to take a couple few 49,000 or so snapshots to remember the ride!
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Photo By Rubberball Productions/ Getty Images
Birth~ The only thing anyone ever tells you about birth is “It’s such a blessing” (which it is) and you forget about the pain of childbirth as soon as you hold your beautiful newborn baby in your arms , which I hate to be the bearer of bad news, is a complete (Did I mention complete) and absolute, bold faced lie. Unless an anvil fell on your head immediately after giving birth
Well, there is an abundance of candidates this week for Throat punch Thursday, as you can see from my previous CNN streaming posts. Apparently, the world is coming to an end with all these maniacs on the loose. I really was a tortured soul trying to decide who was the biggest douche bag this week and deserved the coveted and well deserved throat punch. You know the Lopez family who brutalized that little 5 month old? Well, they were the forerunner. I really thought they had it in the bag. Then ,something more personal came along.You see, in the right hand column of my blog I post the blogs that I personally love. These are not just blogs that follow me or that giveaway the best prizes, no these gals are my support system. They are who I turn to when I need understanding, a good laugh, wit, but mostly sisterhood. Other Mommies who I can relate to and are pretty damn good writers as well. That’s why I feature them in that column under the header “BLOGS I LOVE”. They exemplify sisterhood and what Motherhood is really about… being able to laugh at yourself and enjoying the journey, all the while letting other Mommies know they are not alone in this craziness and that its ok to be human. We all write our blogs for different reasons; for some its just to chronicle their childrens lives, some its a business opportunity a way to feel useful and contribute to the family finances, for some its catharsis, some its for sisterhood, for some its to expand their writing horizons and for others its for all of thee above. No matter the reason, they are sharing their lives. WE share our successes and our stumbles so that others may know that they are not alone and being imperfect is all a part of being a good parent. We offer the most precious thing we have to offer, we give ourselves. It’s humbling and freeing. When the feedback is good, we feel amazing and when it is bad,we take it personally. No grudges, normally, but it still stings the soul just a bit. There are ways to do things without being an asshole. You know what I mean. A backhanded compliment is always better than a “YOU SUCK!” It’s rude, even if you’re not trying to be. My point being the winner of the Throat Punch goes to the reader who commented on a fellow bloggers site and told her “Not to be Rude” ( that’s never good) then the comment went on to state that the blog isn’t up to the standard it used to be and this person is concerned that she is going to lose followers.Wow! When did we get the blog police? Or maybe she is just a concerned citizen making a citizens blog arrest. If the lady really cared maybe she should have asked.”Are you OK? From your blog, I know you’ve been sick and so has your child. Feel better!” But to kick someone when they are so obviously already not feeling well, that’s big time douchery in my book! To make it even worse, the commenter doesn’t even have her own blog. So, she has no idea what it takes to maintain a blog. She probably isn’t even a Mom, explaining why she has no tolerance for a busy Mommy with a sick baby! I know that when we open our lives up to people in our blogs we are inviting them in. It’s like”Hey come on in, have a seat , lets drink some coffee ( or wine) and have a chat!” It’s pretty rude, when they come in and throw the coffee in your face, flip the table and say “What a dirty house! Can’t you get up off your lazy ass and clean once in awhile!” Not to be rude, but I’m just saying! So, this weeks Throat Punch goes to the anonymous reader who left the shitty comment for the sick Mommy blogger( the operative world being Mommy. I mean how much do we have on our plates just raising our little pieces of perfection. Do we really need to be insulted that we are dropping the ball elsewhere?)! Shame on you! Now, come over here so I can punch you in the throat!
I saw this on CNN ( obviously, my new favorite online hot spot as you can plainly see from my recent posts. I may have a slight CNN addiction. Is there a group for this? A 12 step program?) and I was torn.
CNN* Please stop making the video unavailable! How are my readers supposed to watch this video if you keep removing it?
First I was taken aback. The sheer sight of these little kids ( because I have a little girl going into Kindergarten next year) playing with these anatomically correct dolls filled me with conflict. On one side, I do not believe in bull shitting my kids but I think there is a time and place for everything. I think children become curious at different points and are also all ready at different times to know the facts. From the beginning, my girls have known the anatomically correct names of their genitalia and they know that boys have a penis ( “peanut” as Gabs likes to refer to it as).Bella once asked me how we got her sister out of my belly. I was stumped. I fumbled, but I couldn’t lie because I don’t want to do that with my girls. So, I nonchalantly said she came out of me. Bella: How? ( I’m pretty sure she was going to look for a door or something) Me: She came out through my vagina. Bella: Oh! OK. ( I’m sure she didn’t completely understand the logistics of it all but she had an answer and that’s all she wanted.) She never asked again and she commenced with playing dress up with her baby dolls. I’m sure that’s not how some people would handle it but it was the best I could do. I wasn’t prepared. She was 3. I talk to my girls about not letting people touch them in their private places, or really anywhere. People need their private space, no one should be in that space unless invited in. But when I saw this video, though I am straight forward with my kids do I want a teacher handing out dolls with pubic hair and anatomically correct genitalia? I mean, did you see the little girl pushing the baby back up into the dolls uterus? Of course that could have been a useful tool with my conversation with Bella a couple years back. Then you think, well, this is on the other side of he world maybe they need it over there. No danger of my girls meeting the anatomically correct twins anytime soon.
Then I came across this….
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Ahh, remember the good old days when you hit 5th grade someone slipped you a pamphlet , scared you shitless with a movie, and gave you a little baggie with some “PADS” in it to take home? Of course, that was as far as it went..my parents didn’t tell me bupkis other than if I did “IT” ( whatever the hell that meant), I’d be shipped off to live with my mean Grandma in Mexico…that is, once they were done beating my ass. Yeah, never really saw the draw in that plus I surely didn’t want to end up living with my mean Grandma in a third world country! The consequences far outweighed the benefits. I guess gone are the days when you could take your kid to the gynecologist and make them believe that every time they had sex they would have to have a pap? True story…I know a woman who did that to her daughter. Sounds cruel…but it would’ve worked on me!Well, I should be in no danger of Bella getting “the dolls” next year, she’s going to Catholic school. I think the closest they get to sex ed is the issuance of the chastity belts at orientation!Basically, I am still torn on the subject….even after talking it out with all of you.What are your thoughts?
Oh Craptastic! I just realized Gabs is 3 now. Hey, wonder where I can get my hands on one of those dolls![/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
Dear parents in Tooronga, Australia ( and the rest of the world for that matter) Please stay vigilant and engage all pram brakes when in the vicinity of all moving trains and train platforms. This behavior can induce an ‘incredible fright’ not to mention death to the baby in the pram! Please use the full force of all of your common senses.
Thank you,
Very Concerned Truthful Mommy
P.S. Grandma…You ARE FIRED!!!!
https://i.cdn.turner.com/cnn/.element/apps/cvp/3.0/swf/cnn_416x234_embed.swf?context=embed&videoId=world/2010/05/26/pkg.aus.train.hits.baby.stroller.abc
Be warned: This story will turn your stomach and may induce uncontrollable rage against the perpetrators of these acts!
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I came across this on Facebook, brought to my attention by a concerned citizen friend ( apparently I have recently become nominated as defender of the entire child universe.Yeah, I have a cape and everything!) I promise I don’t go looking for this shit! As of late, it just seems to keep finding me. I think my faith in humanity is really being tested this week. This story truly horrified me. How any parent can abuse and rape their own flesh and blood, I do not know. How a parent can stand idly by as someone else performs such heinous crimes against their baby, I can not fathom. The extent to which these monsters abused this child were excessively cruel and brutal. What could this child of 5 months have possibly done to incite such rage? In the beginning, these assholes received only 18 years, I think they should have gotten the death penalty. To be honest, this happened in 2002 and I hope pray that during their incarceration someone inflicts the same brutality upon them as they did baby Briana! To read the complete story of Baby Briana Lopez, please go here.
Behold, the people animals douche bags pieces of shit demons who raped and killed a 5 month old!
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I was just going over some of my posts from when I first started this blog, a year ago, and let me tell you…I think if you want a giggle…you should go here…now! Not to set the bar too high, but I found it all pretty amusing and apropos. I address everything from labor and delivery, pregnancy, to play dates gone a miss. Back then I had NO followers and I think its a shame that no one got the chance to read those posts. So be a dear and take a peak! You won’t be sorry.Happy Mothering!
Bella: “When I get older..I’m going to punch all of my dolls in the face!”
Me: “Why?”
Bella: “Umm..They give me the CREEPS! And take that Madagaascar movie out too. The Lemurs freak me out too!”
Yes, Money well spent! Now, I must go convert my Febreeze Chicken Spray ( you know to eliminate Chickens that hide under little girls beds at night) into Lemur Spray! Oh, the humanity! I refuse to spray down the FAO collectible dolls. She may be on her own there. I could hide them somewhere in a closet. But what the hell will that do to her psyche if she unsuspectingly stumbles onto that craziness. I guess if I were 5 years old lying in bed and all these dolls were eyeballing me..I’d be a little freaked out too. Maybe…