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Mom Life

Today is the last day that my Bella will be five. It is the last time I will put her to bed and kiss her on her sweet five year old head. The last time she will look at me with her big blue eyes and ask me, “When will I be six,Mommy?” I know that babies are born to grow up. But must they do it so quickly?

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The Day before she was born in 2005, it was 70 degrees in Tennessee. Today, it was snowing in the Midwest.

 

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The waiting was maddening.I had no idea what was in for. This caption should read:Last missed opportunity for restful sleep!

Six years ago tonight, I was so anxious and excited, I could hardly sleep. A new life was on my horizon and but I  had no idea that I was about to welcome into my life the most important human that I would ever have the honor of sharing space and time with, sharing air with, sharing evolution with. I had NO idea what my baby would bring to my life. A love so deep that I can barely grasp it on most days. A fulfillment that I had searched for for the previous 32 years of my life, a void was no longer.

I had NO idea what to expect.This was the moment I was born for. This was the moment that I had waited my eternity for. But that night 6 years ago, all I could think was..did I deserve this?Was I good enough?Could I do this?Was I ready for this?What if I fucked it all up beyond recognition? What if what I wanted and what I deserved didn’t align? What if I was wrong? What if I didn’t know what the hell I was getting myself into? And I didn’t. I had no idea.

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The MOST IMPORTANT Moment of my life!

 

I remember lying in bed, on my back, listening to the stillness;staring into the darkness. Sleep was no where to be found. Only a million different thoughts, not the least of which was…I wonder what labor will feel like. This was the night before my very first baby was to be born into the world.I liked my life. I had the good fortune of marrying the best man I had ever laid my soul open for. We were happy. We had been married for 5 years and life was an open ended opportunity for us. As I laid there, trying to see our future in the darkness, I realized that no matter what happened the next day…our lives were going to be changed forever. The couple we were, would no longer be..we would be three. We would be a family.

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I'm exhausted.She is perfection wrapped in a blanket.

 

Tonight, as I put Bella to bed, I see the excitement in her eyes. The unknown. She knows that she will be six tomorrow at 4:51 PM. She has no idea what that means for her or to us. I’m pretty sure she will spend tonight the way that I spent the night before her birth day six years ago, lying in the darkness contemplating the future. Maybe not to the breadth and depth that I did, but she knows tomorrow is special. Tomorrow, she will have surpassed being that newborn that I held in my arms for the first time that moment that she made me a mother. That first baby of mine who came into the world and in that instant altered the path of mine for all time. She is no longer my precocious crawling baby or curious toddler. She has passed the  stage of being my preschooler. Tomorrow, she graduates from being my kindergartner to being my little girl. She becomes a little more like me in her thoughts and actions every day and in each of those moments she becomes more independent. Moving further away from my protective grasp and a little further into the world. And all I can do it’s let it happen.Because the most important part of parenting is knowing when to loosen the grip and allowing those perfect life changers of ours, to become the people they are meant to be in the world. This is how we repay the favor of them allowing us the gift of loving them.

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I was the most tired I'd ever been and I was also the MOST happy!

 

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

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This is what my heaven looks like!

 

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I know many of us have picky eaters. My 3 year old would be perfectly happy to exist on nothing more than chicken nuggets for the rest of her life. Most days I fight with her, barter with her, do anything I need to do ( Dance monkey dance) to get her to eat something different..but some days….I don’t. I know. I am horrible. My kid’s going to turn into a giant chicken nugget. But the nuggets, or Nuggies as they are affectionately called in my house, are just a symptom of a much larger problem…Second Baby Syndrome.

Ahhh, I feel a weight has been lifted just by simply saying the words aloud.Many, if not all of you, know exactly this syndrome of which I speak. I’m not proud to admit this but it is the truth. With Bella, everything was perfect. What I mean to say is that I did my best to do everything right! She was always dressed adorably, not a hair out of place, all meals were up to food pyramid standards, just the right amount of sleep to play ratio. I read to her, I sang to her, I engaged her, TV time was limited, classes were taken, play dates were made and minds were expanded.I used to turn my nose up to those Moms that I saw in the grocery store, who looked like they had no mirrors in their house and so obviously should not have been parents..as they were yelling at a 3 year old at the top of their lungs because the poor kid wanted granola bars. Then we were blessed with Gabs.

One child is ONE CHILD but two children feels more like ten! I naively thought that having two would be as easy as one. ( What I meant to say as easy as my one was.)What did I know?  Suddenly, my days went from doting, anticipating every need, hitting every milestone in stride and ending the day patting myself on the back for a job well done to feeling like I couldn’t can’t keep up. It all became a blur. A fog filled with love and clamor.Noise.Chaos.More love. It enveloped me.I fell into it willingly.But somewhere along the way, I got lost. I lost sight of all my expectations. I think I evolved (or perhaps devolved ) in my parenting skills, however you want to look at it.Somehow I became , what I now know to be, the exhausted, sleep deprived Mom whose husband travels for work all the time and who has not had a shower  or shaved her legs for 3 days. And after a testing morning trying to get her older child off to school, she NOW is standing in the middle of the grocery with her 3 year old tantruming over the exact same granola bars that Mommy had to throw away this morning because said child had spat it out all over the new carpet because…it tasted “bad”. All I know is that it was not humanly possible for me to keep up at the pace I had been doing with one child. There had to be a give and take.

It’s a hard moment in motherhood when one has to accept this fact.It feels like defeat but really what it is IS growing pains.It’s you growing into your role of motherhood. I am certain I experienced the 7 stages of grief when letting go of my expectations of motherhood. First there was shock and denial. What? Both kids won’t nap at the same time?I can handle this.I don’t need sleep! 2nd stage, Pain and guilt. I can’t take this any more.Mommy needs some time to decompress too.Please go to sleep. Oh, no don’t cry. It’s OK. Say awake.I’m such a crappy Mommy trying to force my toddler to go to bed, just so I can have some alone time. I suck! 3rd stage, anger and bargaining. GO TO SLEEP!!! Just be quiet and go to sleep. Please go to sleep! If you go to sleep, I will take you to Chuck E. Cheese tomorrow. 4th stage, depression, reflection and loneliness. Crying because you feel overwhelmed. During this time, you finally realize the magnitude of your loss and it depresses you.You can’t be the parent that you had expected to be..because it’s impossible. You may feel isolated, left to reflect alone on your lost expectations and focus on what you thought things could have been.( Cue the montage of you and your pre baby body running in a field of lilies with your perfectly coiffed matching dressed little girls.) You may sense feelings of emptiness, failure or despair.5th stage, the upward turn. You begin to adjust to your new role with new expectations.Life will become calmer and more organized. What that really means is that your house will be dirtier, the meals will be less food pyramid organic and more chicken nuggets for the finicky pallet of the most distinguished toddler connoisseur. Mommy guilt will begin to lift. Stage 6, reconstruction and working through.As you become more functional, your mind starts working again ( mommy brain may have lifted a bit but, let’s be honest, probably not.It’s a slippery slope from pregnancy brain to Mommy brain to full on forget where you put your vajayjay this morning.. sun downers.I’m just saying). You will find yourself seeking realistic solutions to problems posed by motherhood. For example, the 5 second rule becomes perfectly acceptable.God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt, may be heard around the house.Summer afternoons in the pool may begin to qualify as bath time. And finally, you will reach stage 7, acceptance and hope.You learn to accept and deal with the reality of your situation. This in no way means instant happiness. There’s no magic pill for motherhood. Once you give in to the reality that parenting two babies is exponentially harder than one, you can adjust your attitude, your expectations and your technique. You can have hope that one day, you will sleep again.Someday…maybe when they are married and sleeping safely in their bed with their husbands. (Sucker, She’s your problem now!)

And so as I sit here, stuffing more random pieces of paper with notes scribbled on them into Gabs’ baby book, I am reminded of the quote ” Don’t be sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened!”~Seuss Be glad that you cared enough to have the expectations and to impose them on yourself in the first place. Then, go feed that kid some chicken nuggets before they throw a tantrum in the middle of the store:)

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Tonight, I settled into my  Sunday evening quiet by turning on the television and mindlessly flipping the dial. I stopped on Extreme Makeover. I NEVER stop on Extreme Makeover, mostly because at some point in the show I will end up crying. Sunday’s are usually bad for me anyway so I figure why add fuel to the fire. But tonight, something was different…Extreme Makeover was calling to me.

Photo courtesy of Google image

The show tonight was about the Brown family. The day was like any other day. Alex Brown’s father, Johnny Mack, gave her a kiss on the forehead before he left for work and told her to be good, something I’ve seen the Big Guy do a million times with our own girls.  Something, most of us do an a daily basis. We take a deep breath, kiss those little loves of our lives Goodbye for now and go out into the world or send them out into the world. Only that day, in November of 2009, was not like any other day, it would turn out to be the worst day of the Brown family’s life. That was the day that Jeanne and Johnny Mack Brown lost their daughter, Alex, a senior in high school, got into a 18-wheeler accident.

Katrina, her sister, lost her big sister and mentor in life. While driving to school, Alex was texting, she was distracted, lost control of her vehicle and rolled her pick up truck according to what the truck accident attorney mentioned.

This beautiful promising life, about to go off to college and make a difference in the world, was crudely ejected from the vehicle through the windshield, only to have her truck roll on top of her, crushing her and ultimately causing injuries that proved fatal. People who have miraculously survived tragic accidents like this but are unfortunately and severely disabled can seek the legal assistance of social security attorneys in order to have the compensation that they need especially for the medical expenses.

I can not even imagine the pain and loss Jeanne and Johnny Mack Brown feel on a daily basis. To honor her memory, they spend all their free time traveling to area high schools showing Alex’s rolled truck to other students to demonstrate the possible dangers of texting while driving, spreading the message as far as their funds and abilities will let them.

They have made it their life’s mission to stop other families from suffering such a great loss by giving advice to other with the help of indianapolis truck accident lawyer.

Now, I’m not going to lie..I am a drive and text sort of person. ( Well, I was… up until tonight). I know it’s wrong. I know it’s dangerous and could lead to car accidents. Yet, I find myself doing it constantly. But tonight, when I watched this episode, it hit me…what if I were texting and my girls were in the car ( as they usually are)? I could wreck and kill them. KILL THEM! Let that sink in for a moment. Obviously, I don’t want to die but I can’t live with the possibility of putting my littles in danger. Not to mention what a horrible example I am setting for them. Let’s say for a minute that I am the exception and I’m lucky enough to avoid any disasters but one day, in the not so distant future, Bella or Gabs could get into a vehicle and mimic just what they’ve seen their Mommy doing…texting while driving.  God forbid they get into an accident themselves and, or worse still, die. So, tonight, I went to the Remember Alex Brown website and I signed the pledge. I know this sounds hokey and out of character for me. I know I am snarktastic and have mocked Oprah for her pledge against this very thing. But I am big enough to admit when I have been wrong. It just took me a bit to see the error of my ways. I’ve decided that I  refuse to put my children in that kind of danger, my family through that kind of pain or have any part in perpetuating this behavior in my children’s lives. I signed the pledge and I WILL NOT text while driving…ever again. I also what you to learn this here now that you can still file a claim on an accident that you were partially at fault in. I hope that you will take this pledge with me. I don’t really care if you electronically sign a pledge to a foundation, but I ‘d like you all to commit to not texting while driving. Think of yourself..think of your children! The life you may be saving by NOT texting while driving…may be the one that you helped to bring into this world.

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I hear friends say all the time, “Oh ,how I would love to be 18 again!” I never really thought about it because, to be honest, I feel about 18 on most days. But this past weekend, I was trying to show my girls how to do a back bend. Yes, you heard me a right…a back bend. I have every intention of showing them how to back bend, somersault, cartwheel, back flip, split, roller skate, ice skate..all of it. I never , ever took into consideration that I am not actually 18 anymore. I am more like two 18 year olds.Fuck, I am the sum total of two, non jail bait, grass on the field ( well, technically not) Miley Cyrus’. Shit, I feel old. After,I commenced to show them how to walk down the wall and gracefully (ahem) and easily (bwahahaha) come into a back bend. I stood up and not only did my back hurt, my thighs hurt, and not only did they hurt, my wrists hurt ( from bearing the weight of my entire body) and even my shoulders and clavicle ached. WHAT? Who am I? When did this happen? I work out and I have been lifting littles consecutively for almost 6 years but obviously there is no substitute for youth. You know that thing most of us squander on late nights, tanning beds, one night stands, hangovers, and making complete asses of ourselves?

So, it got me thinking..maybe I would prefer to “go back” but not to 18 ( No way..that was high school before all the “real” fun began) Here are 10 reasons that I’d want  to be 25 again:

  • I was in the best shape of my life.I’m not going to lie;I was working out like a maniac and I was a whopping 113 lbs at almost 5’8″. I was hot! ( Did I really just say that?) I could eat just about anything I wanted without ramification. Between my high metabolism,constant working out and an unhealthy side order of eating disorders I was set ~Of course, if I were still that size, there is no way I could wrangle these two beautiful giants I have given birth to. They’d pull me off in every which direction, like the dog does.
  • I could function on NO sleep and still look glowing and be in a pleasant..honestly chipper mood. How I could use this trait now. I never sleep, my eyes look like I am hoarding luggage, not Louis Vuitton luggage some really cheap knock off JC Penny  luggage, it is not pretty. How I would love to be able to wake up and not need to head directly for the Keurig. Or just wake up and be in a great mood for my girls.
  • It was the year I had my first very own apartment BY MYSELF,with no roomie of any sort.Do I even need to say more? Not that I don’t love sharing my life with the Big Guy and my girls, but does it have to be EVERY waking moment. I just want to be able to walk into a room, sit down in a chair and take a breath for 5 minutes without someone or something needing something from me. To just be. I hear all of you sighing, I know you know what I mean.
  • I had a million friends. I had so many friends, it was ridiculous in a really fabulous way. I always had plans and places to go , people to see…people and things I actually wanted to do, not was obligated to do. You know how hard it is to make a good Mommy friend. It’s like winning the lottery. First you have to find a woman that you like,then she needs to have kids that you like and your kids can get along with ( no punching, biting, body slamming or fights tot he death over sippy cups or Barbie dolls) and then ( If the fates allow) your husbands have to get along. In 11 years of marriage and almost 6 years of having children, I have 2 friends who meet this stringent criteria. 2!!!! Oh, how I miss my million friends.
  • I had a killer wardrobe. I didn’t have a lot of money because I was still in college BUT I had that rocking body and great taste.I’m not sure if it was the rocking body that made everything look good ( you’ve heard the saying “She’d look good in a paper bag”? Well, that was me for a few years), or that damn fresh glowing skin, or if the clothes were just that cute. Maybe it was because I actually bought myself clothes.Or maybe it was because I was always out and was super aware of what was in style and what was not. I don’t know. All I know is I had a smoking wardrobe and shoe collection. Man, I miss being selfish.
  • I was free spirited and fun loving.I could nap if I was tired, eat when I was hungry, go out, stay in, hop in the car and go for impromptu road trips. Now, everything I do has to be scheduled and coordinated in advance. So much for  spontaneity.7 bags and a stroller have to be packed. Snacks, DVDs, kids music, milk,toys, games, babies, extra clothes, umbrellas, jackets,boots,…my head is spinning just writing this list. I always have to be expecting the unexpected and more than that, prepared for the unexpected.It’s exhausting.
  • I had no responsibilities.I had no bills! NO BILLS! Rent and cable, that makes me laugh.I can barely keep a straight face thinking about how simple I was. I would actually blow a damn donkey at this point in my life to have NO BILLS! No mortgage.No utilities.No SCHOOL loans. No tuitions. No car payments. NO SCRIP. No credit car bills. No consolidation loans. No  organic groceries. No ballet.No Homeowners association dues.Of course, with all these “bills” comes the  life we want for our girls so I guess this is the price of suburban domesticity.I have a love hate relationship with it. I love it. I hate paying for it. Well, I hate paying through the nose for it.
  • My skin was glowing, my body was supple and flexible.Youth! Talk about not knowing what you’ve got til its gone ( Damn you, Cinderella and your crazy lyrics) I took everything for granted because it was just there at my disposal. Now, I am having to work double time to moisturize me skin, stay fit and healthy the right way, and be able to do simple things like teach my girls the back bend and splits without herniating something or ending up in traction. I just wish I wasn’t having to spend more time of the less time I have available to simply do maintenance.
  • I had finally figured out my place in the world and I was full of self confidence ( not as much as I am today but pretty close).More importantly, I exuded confidence. I actually felt comfortable in my own skin or as close as I could at that time. Then motherhood came along and, even though it is the most awesome thing I will ever do and it is so important to me, it knocked me on my ass. It made me lose confidence in who I was and what I could do. I had no training and I am a perfectionist. By becoming a mother, in a lot of ways, I had to relinquish control. This leaves me feeling less than adequate at times and not so comfortable in my skin. But I’m working on it and I’m getting there. It sure would nice to have some of that confidence  or maybe it was blissfully, happy naivete back.
  • I spent every waking moment with the Big Guy.The Big Guy and I met and within a week we were dating exclusively. We literally spent every waking moment ( with the exception of when we were supposed to be in class) together and it was never enough. That year is when we got engaged.He was my drug and I could not get my fill.There was never a lull or hesitation, just constant inquisition and even our quiet was full. These days, we only get to see one another on the weekends. The problem is we feel the same.He’s still my drug and I can’t get enough of him in my life. I love him and like him with every fiber of my being, even when I am exhausted and overwhelmed and overextended. He is my reprieve. He is my soft place to land. I want to spend more waking moments with this man. What a great example of a strong relationship for our daughters we could be if we were in the same place. I’m working on that too.

In recollection, my 25th year seems like it was my golden year ( which literally it was) but there was one thing seriously lacking from that year that I would not trade all the rest for, not even all the wonderment and freedom of youth…my girls. If I need to work a little harder to lose 10 pounds, sleep a little longer, moisturize a little more, eat a little less, save a lot more, it’s all worth it in the end.I’d rather be right where I am today than 25 and not with my girls. Babies, even at my best…I’m better with you!

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There is a club, it is a large club with a very rigid initiation process.One obvious and arduous requirement; you must conceive, grow and birth a baby. At first glance, you would think this group would be a little more selective in its member selection process, or at the very least a bit more exclusive but alas, one more of the great mysteries of the universe. Of course, it sounds much simpler to join this group than it actually is. If you read the fine print a bit more carefully, you will see that the conception, growth and deliverance of the aforementioned baby only gets you considered for membership in “the club”.

This photo courtesy of Google Image

The “club” of which I am referring to is one that I’ve always felt my invitation to got lost in the mail. It’s the species of Mommies who parent with ease and confidence.They are baby wearing, organic food making, breastfeeding until their children are 5, unwavering patience,non mom brain having, beautifully/impeccably coiffed, healthy, date night having, adorable dressing, PTA loving, scheduled/organized perfection. You know the ones who buy all the educational toys and actually have the time and patience to explain it to their 3 year old 50 times in one day. The ones who always pack a nutritious picnic for the park and also manage to squeeze in a valuable lesson..on a spontaneous trip to the park.I know they don’t do it on purpose ( or maybe they do) but these mommies,with their graceful ease of breezing through Mommying, make me feel like the ugly girl at prom who had no date and, to add insult to injury, had to wear an ugly dress.

This photo courtesy of google Image

I see them everywhere;in the drop off lines patiently waving goodbye, at the grocery store shopping with children in silence, at church not bribing their kids with Barbies and firetrucks to stay quiet, at the park running with their jogging strollers,working out in their yoga pants, at restaurants eating..at the same time as their family ( warm food). It makes me think, am I the only one who missed the parenting class they must be giving out with each baby you birth?I’m assuming upon graduation of that course is where the invitations are being handed out. I missed it.I think it had something to do with the shock I was experiencing as I left the hospital. I couldn’t believe they were actually relinquishing this baby into our care. Both times.I was shocked.Who the hell would give us a baby? We had no real experience. Damn it.I missed all of it.Does this mean I am doomed to this outsider perspective forever? Because, I’m not embarrassed to say ( shhh, come closer) I want in! I’m serious.I’ll do whatever it takes.Who’s bitch do I need to be? Bring it on. No hazing you could inflict could be more torturous than this being on the outside alone. I can’t take it anymore. Someone let me in.This Mommy needs some like minded war buddies.

But the more I think about it, who are these perfect Mommies? Are they really perfect or are they just working harder at concealing their imperfections? I love big and I love hard on my littles.I’m sure I could do better at the mommying on some days but on other days,I’m pretty freaking good at it. I wish there really was such a thing as a perfect parent or an easy button for parenting but it just doesn’t exist. Just like the unicorn and the liger,perfect Mommy club is exclusive because it doesn’t exist or it went extinct back int he 50′s.I just wish there was a memo sent to all the mommies of the world that read: Be ye not afraid of who you are, love your littles, stomp in the puddles, dance like no one is watching, sing like the whole world is deaf, love your Big Guy, have fun, be happy..the end. P.S. The dishes and laundry will wait and nobody’s perfect but …go brush your hair and teeth before leaving your dirty house:) Big Hugs, Reality

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In most instances, people are not what they do, but in Motherhood the marriage of the two is as seamless as the Separation of Church and state in Rome. In no other aspect of our lives does one single event of our life forever define who we are to the outside world as does becoming a Mother. It not only instantaneously changes how we view ourselves, how our family and friends view us; it changes the way we are viewed by the entire world. It’s not like being a Republican or Democrat, you can’t hide that you are a Mommy. Besides being recognizable by the obvious changes of Motherhood; your body, the tethering of a small human being to your side for 18+ years, and chronic food/spit/shit/ or urine on your clothing. There are also the not so obvious changes, the slow softening around the edges, the small appendage roaming the world freely (your heart), and the ever present elation filled with sadness and extreme exhaustion readily seen on most, if not all, Mommies faces.
The moment we become a Mother in our minds, whether it be at conception, labor, the moment we hold that newborn, or at that moment they first call out for us, we are changed forever. Never again to be that same woman we were before that moment, at least not entirely. However, where is the line between being their Mommy and the woman independent of the child? We become so consumed with the task at hand (being said Mommy) that we sometimes forget about the woman behind the miracle.
I sometimes look at my girls and I am in awe that I have anything to do with molding such amazing little humans; little lone that I am the sole reason they are on this earth. In those instances, I feel as if I am capable of accomplishing almost anything. I feel as if my potential is limitless. Then I catch a glimpse of myself in my ponytail and yoga pants and I feel like an incredible failure. How can someone who can do so many amazing things for and with her children have such little regard for herself? I am barely recognizable to myself in the mirror. I have become so immersed in their lives, their dreams and goals that I have forgotten about my own. Well, obviously I have not entirely forgotten, since I am referencing and acknowledging the fact that I ever had dreams and goals of my own, but I have certainly pushed myself to the side in many ways.
Like most Mommies, I do this willingly. After all, isn’t Martyrdom #1 in the Mommy manual? Nevertheless, am I really doing them any favors in the end? I have girls, so do I want to be the example that imprints on their tiny brains that being a Mommy= losing yourself and relinquishing all of your hopes and dreams? Obviously, that would be a resounding Hell no! That would be, by far, the greatest disservice that I could ever do to my girls. I think to be a really great Mommy, we have to be willing to let our children see us as humans and as women with interests, hopes, and dreams outside of just being their Mother. I struggle with this daily. Most days, I lose the battle.
Our children are our top priority but shouldn’t we be a priority on our own life, as well? Our children need to see us succeed, fail, survive it all and to pick ourselves up and continue on. If I were practicing as a lawyer or a doctor, I would not let it engulf my entire life. I would still allow myself outside interests, friends, hopes, and dreams. If we don’t do the same with Motherhood, who will we be when our children are grown and don’t need us to be their every thing? How will we define who we are if we have completely forgotten who we were?

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I am NOT the Mommy who tells her kid about the Boogie Man. I decided this a long time ago because well, its just a tool parents use to scare their children into behaving well. I know, this coming from the same broad who tells her daughters that magical kneecap breaking elves are sent from Santa to keep a watchful eye over them and report back to the Fat Jolly guy, doesn’t make a lot of sense. So, why, you ask, do I draw a line at the “Boogie Man”? Simply because, I tell them monsters are not real and I think they are too young for the whole God/Satan discussion. Therefore, no one is allowed to even joke that the Boogie man is getting anyone in this house. Capiche?

Unfortunately, I had a little slip today. Yes, one of my girls did something ( I can’t honestly even remember what it was at this point) and I made the comment that the Boogie man something or other. As soon as I said it, I wanted to eat the words. I wanted to swallow them whole and push them deep down inside my stomach but it was too late. Those 2 words had fell on to the most astute ears of all time, the ears of Gabs. You know like the ides of March but much more dangerous.

What did I do? Well, I don’t lie to my children ( well, I don’t want to ) so how can I get out of this?I’d said it, she knew it meant something not good, so how the hell was I going to explain it all away? My thought process; Sesame street, Cookie Monster ( big blue friendly dude); Mommy fuck up,Boogie Monster; Crazy invisible guy who comes and eats the boogies of little kids who don’t listen. What a train wreck! Clearly, I should have put more thought into this craziness.

I know, its a terrible cover. One day she’ll know that the Boogie Man is a synonym for Satan but for now she thinks that the Boogie Monster is an invisible dude who comes around if he hears little girls talking back, fighting, telling their Mommy or sister they hate her, or being generally not good ..its the only time he is even aware of their existence.But if he hears, he’ll come and suck all the boogies out of their noses in the middle the night ( sort of like one of those giant bulb suckers which of course, they detest)but ONLY if they are not good.

What white lies have you told your children when caught in a compromising position? How did it work out for you?We’re you ever busted? I’m pretty sure this whole boogie monster thing is going to blow up all over my face. It’s just a matter of time.Bella listened to my explanation and gave me the “I’m not sure but I’m pretty sure that you’re full of crap Mom” look when she heard the whole sordid explanation. Gabs, on the other hand, she’s been the best she’s been since birth! Bella was pretty good too. She’s not taking any chances with Christmas being so close and all.That’s my smart cookie!Happy Mothering!

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Kid thinks tooth fairy is a creepy bastard, Tooth Fairy; Reasons You Shouldn't Promote this Childhood Myth

Recently, it seems that my girls are growing up at lightning speed. The things they say, the mannerisms, the reading, the attention to detail in their looks, and especially the observations that they make of the world, blow my mind. Here is one of Bella’s gems, as of late. Hint: She thinks the tooth fairy is creepy.

Bella recently lost her very first tooth. It was right around Halloween. She was very excited. Her father and I were (let me honest) pretty sad because, you see, this represents her growing up. This is just another first part of letting go. Bet you never knew losing baby teeth had such a deep meaning, did you?

Though we may not be thrilled about what it symbolizes, you know we had to make a BIG GIGANTIC deal about it. This is the FIRST tooth. Grandma sent a little satin pillow to place the tooth in and put under my Bella’s pillow and there was a little book to record the moment. I snapped pictures and wiped away a tear*sniff, sniff* Another magical, mythical character to complete this childhood fantasy in the books.

It was time to perform our parently duties and perpetuate the myth of the tooth fairy for the first time. We were officially going to be a part of the problem.

It happened on a Thursday, in the middle of the night and Bella told me that she wanted to wait for her Daddy to be home, so he could be part of this momentous occasion. Friday comes, the Big Guy is home, while he and I are hushedly discussing the going rate for a first tooth these days and deciding whether or not one of us had to hit the ATM, Bella walks right up to us and delivers this proclamation;

“Mommy and Daddy, I don’t think I am going to put my tooth under my pillow tonight!”

We look at one another bewildered. We’d been waiting for this milestone first tooth to fall out and the tooth fairy to come. Did I mention she had been waiting for this tooth to fall out since she started kindergarten and all the other kids were missing teeth?

Me:” Why not, sweetie?”

Bella:” Well, Mommy, I was thinking about it and it’s pretty creepy that the tooth fairy comes in the middle of the night and steals my tooth!”

I shake my head in agreement. My husband is stifling his laughter because really he is just a giant 10-year old, plus it was pretty freaking funny. She was dead serious!

Me:” Well, Bella, the fairy doesn’t really steal it. She takes your tooth away and leaves you some money. She buys it!”

Bella: “Mommy, I don’t think my teeth are for sale!”

It’s hard to argue with reason and determination.  Y’all know that lying is not my forte anyway. These white lies are one of the hardest parts of motherhood for me.

At least we didn’t plot to murder the tooth fairy

 

So the kid’s got a point. It is a pretty creepy idea of some little freaky tooth obsessed fairy coming into your bedroom, in the middle of the night, and stealing your discarded teeth away. Who does my Bella think is coming? The tooth fairy? Or the Chupacabra?

Tooth Fairy; Reasons You Shouldn’t Promote this Childhood Myth

In exchange, the fairy leaves the child a little monetary token on their nightstand, like a John would do for his hooker. It’s all very seedy. Perhaps, we should have given this story a little more thought.

I could not in good conscience argue this point with her.

I simply told her: “Bella, you don’t have to give your tooth to the tooth fairy tonight. We can just hold on to it and when /if you decide to leave it for the fairy, we can do that too, OK?”

Bella looks at me perplexed and then she has a eureka look on her face.

Bella: “Mommy, why don’t you and Daddy just give me the money and you can keep the tooth!”

Uh oh, the jig is up before it even began. I back peddled and told her something about angering the tooth Gods and throwing off the natural balance of the universe or something to that effect(who can remember, I was floundering to save her childhood) and then I quickly exited the room with her innocence intact.

Now that I think of it, I should have just agreed to her request to pay her for her teeth and saved myself some headaches.

Whew! What’s next? The Easter Bunny? Fairy Godmothers? Santa Claus? Unicorns? Somebody slow down this ride, I want to get off. Where are the brakes?

What do you do when your child starts questioning the fictitious people in their lives like the tooth fairy?

 

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We all know that our friends are priceless. A good friend to share your thoughts with and have some camaraderie with really can make life a lot happier.It makes things fun. You have a cheerleader, someone who always ‘gets’ you.Someone, aside from your husband, who you can be yourself with and they still love you…perks and quirks.

There is something even more precious than a friend and that is the rare mythical creature called a Mommy friend.I’m not referring to the ladies in the  drop off line that you share nothing with other than being mothers of kindergartners. I am not referring to the ladies in the Moms Groups that have to be nice to you because you go to church together.I’m not even referring to those Stroller Striding, Gymboree, baby wearing mates that you spend your days with. Hell, I am not even touching on the Moms you met through common friends and who you have coffee and gossip with while the kids run a muck.The group I am referencing is that very small piece of the population that you meet through some kid like function, your eyes meet, she looks normal, your kids like her kids, her kids like your kids, and you actually can have a conversation outside of your children about, you know, the other things in your life. *gasp*

I know its verboten to speak of such things but it happens occasionally. You know the lady you unsuspectingly meet at ballet class or while at the library checking out dvds books and you have the same parenting technique, you are both drowning in the velvet sea of children and someone takes mercy and tosses the other a flotation device…you know, to save her life!And its like falling in love, but without all the sex to mess it up. You recognize her by her nervous smile and exhausted sighs. In that moment, she rescues you from the isolation that was your island of parenting solitude.

I’ve always had a lot of friends.That’s just who I am. I come from a large family and that’s what we do..people and relationships. When you’re from a large family with not a lot of money, you have to develop a personality.It’s the only thing that you’ve got to offer. I noticed as I had children, loads of my friendships fell to the wayside. Not because I chose it, or even they did, but we grew apart. Either they didn’t have kids or our kids were at vastly different stages in life, leaving us in vastly different stages of motherhood.It makes a difference.It’s like being at the beginning of life or the end of life. Of course we could benefit from that relationship but who has the time or energy when you are trying to chauffeur, cook, fold, clean, wipe asses, comb tangled hair,stop littles from eating the toothpaste and running into the street, and about 2000 other things simultaneously.

Its a little scary. I have two children and in the 5 years that they have been alive, I have made 5 in real life Mommy friends. Yes, of course I’ve met plenty of wonderful ladies to have play dates with or chat up during drop off and pick up but only 5 have I shared a real connection. Only 5 do I want to sit down and talk about whats really going on in my life. Only 5 that would want to share a glass of wine and  get my advice. Only 5 that I can unleash my verbal diarrhea on and them actually engage with a thoughtful answer and not a head shake, blank stare and a “Right, right”. These ladies are my village. These ladies are the ones who have seen me at my best and my worst and don’t judge me for it. Don’t think less of me for being human.These friends are worth double their weight in gold. They are my tether to sanity.They are amazing.

Who are your Mommy friends?How and where did you meet them? What do you think qualifies a true Mommy friendship?

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As most of you are aware, the Big Guy works out of town..A LOT! Like several days of the week. Basically, that leaves me to Mother the girls all by myself. Honestly, when he comes home for a couple days..its like Christmas and Fourth of July all in one.Its chaotic and exciting  but it’s not routine.It’s like a great big Daddy tornado sweeps through the house.We love it.Believe me, I am ecstatic that he has a job at all and I look forward to him coming home the way most people look forward to the last day of their work week. But when it is over, I am left to pick up the emotional pieces ( and literally to clean up the house that the tornado hit); to soothe the crying, to bandage the heart wounds, to deal with girls missing their Daddy.Plus I get to do all the stuff all mothers get to do, I work from home, I clean,cook, do laundry, run the girls to and fro various activities, arrange play dates, bathe them, get ready for school, pick up from school, homework,pack snacks, sign permission slips and all the other obligatory school responsibilities,ballet, rehearsal, and on top of all of that…try and maintain my sanity.

So,when I got engaged in a Twitter debate with  a fellow tweep over a statement similar to this “just because your husband works out of town a lot does not make you a single mother.” Her viewpoint, being neither a single Mother, nor a woman whose husband is gone 5/7ths of the week, was that my disagreement with the statement was not right. In fact, she went as far as to tell me that I was not single mothering it…I was lonely.Which made me laugh because how the hell can I be lonely when I have 2 littles with me at all times of the day and night? Hell,I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself.I’m not lonely…most days.I’m too busy with all this mothering business that I do on my own to be lonely. She argued that I was married and the fact that he paid the bills made me not single mothering.Wow! Who knew the only qualification for being a father or co parenting is to pay some bills! I love a woman who has never walked a minute in my shoes telling me that my life is easy and I am just a lonely complainer. Yey, for her!

I really should have just stopped tweeting because honestly trying to explain it to her was like trying to talk to an ESL student in Pig Latin on Mars. I don’t know if she didn’t understand what I was trying to say or simply just didn’t care. I am going to say it was the latter.

Let’s be clear, I have the utmost respect for single mothers. I don’t know how you do it. You are seriously the hardest working women in the Mommy business. That being said, it’s no picnic having a husband who has had to take a job that takes him away from the house….always. It’s not occasional business trips.The weekly job, that is the business trip.Can you say commuter marriage? I am NOT a single mother because I am not single.I am married. That is true. But this is also true, I do all the mothering and daddying..5 days a week..by MYSELF! So, when this narrow minded broad, who doesn’t know me, doesn’t share my situation, doesn’t even listen to my explanation, tries to tell me that I have it easy because I am married, forgive me for wanting to punch her in her gullet. It was almost as ridiculous as having a single non child having person trying to give out parenting advice.

What are your thoughts?Do you sometimes single Mother? Are you a full time single mother? Do you think life would be easier if it were only sometimes? Or maybe it would be easier if it were full time?What qualifies it as being hard? Time spent doing it? Doing it alone? Isn’t mothering hard enough with all the Mommy guilt?Now, we have to prove how hard it is to other unsympathetic women?

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