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Mommies

Anyone who has ever read my blog knows that I am a super advocate of sisterhood. I think that cat fights between women are ridiculous and that if we all spent a lot more time being real and supporting each other, life would be so much better for all of us. Why does it always have to be a competition? My kid does this, does  yours? My husband makes this much money, what does yours make? My house is bigger than yours. It truly is a pissing contest for women! I can keep the house immaculate, my kids listen to everything I say, sleep in their own beds, go to bed at a reasonable hour with no drama, they are reading at a 5th grade level @ the age of four, I eat but can not gain weight, my husband just keeps getting better looking, and my kids are absolute perfection, did I mention they eat absolutely everything I put in front of them. The laundry seems to do itself, I love to cook gourmet meals for every meal, I am completely organic, I made all the baby food and my babies only wore cloth diapers and drank organic, non tainted by caffeine or alcohol breasts milk. P.S. My shit doesn’t stink! I live in a mansion on the corner of bliss and perfection…or was that delusional and insanity?  And you? OK, Bree friggin Van de Kamp…you are not real, you are some convoluted conjuring of what some crazy tv exec thought real life is…not even in the 1950’s, my brother sister!If we’d stop trying to make the other Mommies think we have it all under control without even breaking a sweat, maybe, just maybe we’d have some back up in the trenches instead of one more enemy trying to kill our spirits and crush our souls!
So, as if that is not bad enough, that we are all running around lying to each other about how perfect and easy our lives are, we are inadvertently (or maybe purposefully) making other women (Mommies ,specifically) feel like they are losers because they don’t think life is easy or perfect and neither are their kids and their husband. I mean ,myself,  I’ve actually winced at the prospect of having to go to the grocery store, been brought to tears trying to figure out what the hell to wear out in public to drop my kids off at some class or other, the dishes make me want to kill someone ( actually just myself..I truly hate dishes!I am not above existing on paper products!), my girls still miraculously end up in our bed in the middle of the night, I have actually been reduced to feeding them cereal for dinner (only once..I promise)….though, I must confess, my kids are pretty perfect….to me! All kids are perfect to their parents! My point is my fellow desperate housewives, we would not all be so damn desperate if we could all just get along! Next time you feel overcome with the need to blow crazy smoke up your own ass, in a coffee induced fog of meanness,  Please remember that Mommy that you are making feel 2 inches tall would probably serve you better as a cheerleader than as a doormat!
PSA: Please be kind to your fellow Mommies! She is not your enemy, she is your sister, your friend, your confidant, your tether to sanity!

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Cutest baby ever.She is so precious, and that is definitely dangerous. This of which I speak is her effect on all unsuspecting Mommies who have decided they are done having children. You know who you are. We see one hair on her head, get one whiff of her baby breath and hold her sweet, little, cute self in our arms and we are goners. She is amazing. The caption should read: Beware this tiny adorable person may cause you to have second thoughts, pangs of yearning, and end up with one more lovely baby of your own.
 
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I am having a WTH is going on here day. It has come to my attention, apparently when you have a moment..you realize a lot of not necessarily caring to know information, that I have developed a very peculiar way of cleaning my house. Remember the good old day when you could spend all day cleaning out your closets?Ahh, and when it was done there was sense of accomplishment and pride? Remember? You remember….think hard. Now, it has taken me a month to unpack from a relocation..a month and I am still unpacking. It probably has something to do with what I have noticed myself doing. Every time I say I am going to clean the house, I pick a room(say the bedroom), get started, decide to go to another room for whatever reason (lets say the kitchen to get some coffee),then I am cleaning the kitchen. Next, I hit the bathroom to tinkle from my coffee and (you guessed) get sidetracked and start cleaning the bathroom. Now, have I mentioned that I am moving on without completing a single room and seldom do I even realize what I am doing this until I wander back into the previous room and see my mess that I left behind (i.e mop laying out, vacuum in middle of room, clothes in washer that haven’t made it to the dryer in three days, or perhaps, loaded dishwasher that I forgot to run until I run out of silverware and sippy cups!)You see my problem? I am convinced I have some type of “used uterus” type specific form of ADHD!!!! That has to be it, or I am completely and randomly insane.Anybody else experienced this? If so, is there a group or a special kind of medication that I should be on to remedy this situation? I am getting a little worried for myself:) I mean what if I get sidetracked by a phone call or a doorbell and forget where I put the kids?

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Good morning, my sunshines! It is Tuesday morning again! You know what that means. Time to let it all out:) Of course, today is Fat Tuesday..so maybe we should really get it all off our chest in anticipation of Lent.I mean who doesn’t want to start Lent off with a clean conscience and a light heart! So, please join me in our weekly expelling of our “demons”.As always, I will start!
I wish that when I asked my husband to call me from the road, when he is driving in bad weather and I am waiting to hear how an interview is going, he would actually do it! Instead of me having to track him down and him giving me vague answers!Argh!!
I wish that my 2 year old would keep her hands out of her sister’s face. It’s so bad that her older sister calls her “the Tiger”. When I asked,”Why?”, she simply replied,”Because she claws and bites, Mom!”Enough said!
I wish that same “Tiger” would stop bringing the glitter glue to me and forcing it into my face, narrowly escaping dropping it into my much needed coffee!
I wish that I could write this blog in silence versus the screaming, crying, chaos that ensues each time I attempt to get in front of the computer!It’s like they do it on purpose!
Finally, I wish that I , along with all the Mommies I know, could do everything, be everywhere, and get as much done as we want to without filling guilty for neglecting our children, our husbands or our responsibilities! In short, I wish that we could all live free of Mommy guilt!!!
Ahhh, breathe in, breathe out! My husband just woke up…yeah, just now. Must be nice! I better go and inform him that I am bestowing the honor of driving in the blizzard to get the groceries. Ahhhh, sweet revenge!LOL
Your turn! As I have said before, do it anonymously if you like but please…get it off your chest! No infraction too small or too large. We will love you still and think you are an awesome Mommy…just for being human and trying!Come on girls….Do the Fat Tuesday!!!

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Good morning, my lovelies! It is once again that time of the week. The day that we can come to our safe haven and expunge all of the wreckage of the week from our souls! Don’t be afraid, we won’t bite. Just take your load and dump it here! Happy Tuesday! I’m sure tomorrow will be better!
So, that being said, here are my 3 (yeah its been that kind of week) for the day; I wish so badly that my 2 year old could wipe her own little butt. It’s not that I don’t like helping her out but this week my back has decided to go out and it is rather impossible for me to bend over to her level to wipe her without doubling over in pain, which at any moment could become permanent form if the back decides to completely seize up. It’s like a really awful game of slots. I am just praying for no whammies!
I am wishing I could grant my four year old’s wish, to teach her a lesson. Last night, she informs us that she wants to be an only child.Little too late for that one, we have 2 children. I so want to banish her from her little sister for 24 hours so that she knows how much she would truly miss her. Of course, at the mere mention of grounding her away from her sister, she went into hysterics and said she only needed a couple hours!
OK, I have one more. I wish that I could freaking find my back pain medicine amongst all the rubble that is my slowly but surely unpacked house. You know the house I just packed up in January and moved 1/2 way across the country,only to have them inform us 7 days later that we would be returning home. Not to be stuck on repeat but I am perfectly within my rights to be pissed at this situation.All 10 of the times I was searching for my meds in the past 3 days, I have wanted to kick somebody’s teeth in. I have yet to hurt anybody and the meds are still lost in space. I know you are wondering, “Why doesn’t she go see her Dr. and get more?” The answer is simple,with the return home and the downsizing, we lost our insurance.So there you have it, the gift that just keeps on giving!!! Hugs all around!!

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Good morning and happy Tuesday to you all. It’s been a long week of carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Here’s where Mommies can come to vent and get rid of some of that unwanted weight, metaphorically speaking anyways. Though, the more I think of it, there could very well be a link between carrying the weight of the world and holding a little extra baggage around our middles! But that’s another post altogether! LOL Today, we’re gathered here to vent and unload. You can comment anonymously if you prefer. I just want you to get it off your chest and off your mind. You’ll feel better, I promise. I’ll go first; Sometimes, when my 4 year old goes all Miley Cyrus mouthy on me and proclaims ( at the top of her lungs, no less) “I hate you Mother(Mudd-Da)!!” , usually for the infraction of telling her it’s time to put away her toys and go to bed ( apparently between 3-4, that became a crime punishable by death).On “those” occassions, sometimes I wish I wouldn’t be given the worst mother of the year award and could in fact respond , ” Oh yeah sister? Well..,ME friggin Too!!!!!!!” Of course, I wouldn’t mean it by any means( well not past that instant anyways)but it sure would be refreshing to have the option:) Wow! I feel better already just sharing it with you girls.Thanks for the love and support. Next time, let’s do this over coffee! Oh sweet catharsis, have a delightfully guilt free day of mothering! I know I plan to!

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OK, Ladies. I know we are all perfect Mommies, as perfect as we can be, on any given day depending on whether or not we’ve had our coffee and/or enough sleep the night before. But I think Tuesdays should be our new vent day. I thoroughly believe that all Mommies need to ban together and help one another fight the good fight. Let’s support each other and learn from one another. SO, hence forth..lets take Tuesdays to air our dirty laundry or lets say to be truthful about some of our not so perfect moments. It will help other Mommies know they are not alone in the way they are feeling and it will probably be good for a chuckle for all of us. So, lets meet here on Tuesdays…https://motherhoodthetruth.blogspot.com/. Post something that makes you feel like less than a perfect Mommy, sign it anonymously if you’d like, get it off your chest and help someone else out! I’ll be here Tuesdays, I hope you will too!

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What’s the love/hate relationship all moms have with yoga pants? Where does it come from?

Earlier today I am getting ready to take my girls to one of their classmates birthday parties, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I reflect on something ( excuse the pun) that just hit me like a ton of bricks. Who am I primping for? Who am I blowing out my hair, curling my eyelashes, smudging my eyeliner for? Well, its not my husband because he is at work and by the time he sees this lovely masterpiece, lets face it, it will look like it has sat out in the rain overnight.

It’s surely not for the 12 to 17 preschoolers and toddlers that I will encounter at this soiree. No, as far as they are concerned all Mommies look the same..we just seem to have our own special scents.You know the ones; baby vomit, baby poop, curdled enfamil, baby soap, and maybe the scent of stale cheerios, or a combination of the aforementioned and the ever popular soap and baby love. So, who am I dressing for?

It’s not completely for myself, because, try as I may, I just don’t have the time and energy to be that into myself anymore.T hough, I am making a very conscientious effort to invest more time into myself. I hear the more we put in, the more we get out.We’ll see!

So, again….who am I dressing for? I know its not for other men because, quite frankly, I think that radar went on the fritz the very minute that my wedding ring went on the finger. It’s like we are genetically predisposed or perhaps its more like pathologically brain washed from birth to know that once that ring goes on, we are no longer allowed to be aware if other men are looking or flirting. And so we are not. Sure there are the occasional, accidental flirtations that we nostalgically catch glimpses of and are flattered by…who wouldn’t be? We are, after all, married not dead. But as a rule, we generally are blissfully unaware.

Then it dawned on me for whom we are truly dressing for…other Mommies. Let’s take a look at the facts.They are the only people we normally see on a semi regular basis, their opinion does count to us, and we usually like to appear somewhat put together in their eyes. Whether we want them to approve or just don’t want them to disapprove, that is our target audience.I’m not alone in this am I?

I know most of us have tried the jump in the car in our Jammie pants and throw on a coat, go through the car drop off line and hope no one makes eye contact tactic. Well, actually I have not because I have heard too many times of the horror stories of the poor , unsuspecting Mommmy wearing her Jammies to drop off only to be suddenly called into the principals office or some other tragedy happening. It’s sorta like that warning your Mom gave you about wearing clean panties because heaven forbid you get into a car accident and there you are, poor schlub, with your period panties on. Yeah,because that is what the EMS notices when they are freeing you from your burning vehicle with the jaws of life! Thanks Mom!

Then there is , my very own personal favorite, yoga pants ( running shorts, tennis skirt..insert comfy athletic gear as you like) , t-shirt, and a ponytail.First,Come on, let’s be honest, when I pull my hair back into that ponytail..I know, in my heart, no grown woman should be rocking a pony!

Second, just because we are wearing our workout clothes..are we all actually working out immediately following drop off? I confess, normally, I am heading for a sweating session of Turbo Jam in my living room or a grueling walk around the neighborhood but on other days ( at least one), oh those “other” days, I drop my 4 year old off at school, walk back to my car, drive to my apartment, change back into my Jammies and have coffee on my sofa while reading Cosmo and I don’t even break a sweat. The scary thing is that I think I am making an effort by actually putting on the workout clothes, that is my step up! Lord, what has my world come to?

A few years ago, I would not have left the house for a million dollars without full face on and dressed appealingly to all who saw me. Now, who’s to say if I care, if I don’t, I think it depends on the day and my mood. How can we go from being so meticulous about our presentation to so profoundly unaffected? I do know one thing, Jammies and ponytails in public are unacceptable unless you are four or under.So that leads us back to my original question..who are we dressing for? We figured out its other Mommies, but why does some times it matter and sometimes it doesn’t? I know that I never want anyone to look at me and say,” Wow! She is really ugly” So, why wouldn’t I try not to be?

I ended up at the party looking somewhat presentable, clothes were cleaned, hair was blown out, icing was on the cake and it didn’t take too much effort. So, why don’t we do it every morning? Do we really think that the other Mommies and teachers deserve to be visually assaulted by our Jammies, bed head, ponytails, and (hmmhmmm) workout clothes? I, for one, say no. So, I am making a pledge to try and dress …before I take my girls to school and greet the fine folks at preschool..and at the very least,I will definitely try to do so before my return visit of the day to pick them up from preschool:)See you all at 12:30, hopefully looking considerably better than I did at 9:30!

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I don’t know about the rest of you, but some days I feel like I don’t know who I am. Not the familiar, my worlds turned upside down and inside out because I am so busy shuttling kiddies to and fro, and planning and prepping their lives but honest to goodness,”Who the hell is this person in the mirror? Who have I become?” Somewhere between not knowing what I wanted to be but anxious to take on the world with no fear of failure and now, I have evolved into some lesser form of myself. Definitely not who I hoped I would be or who I even thought I might be. I feel like I’ve gotten wrapped up in the day to day minutia of being a Mommy and wife and have sincerely forgotten how to be or even who “Debi’ is? Oh yeah, that’s me! I don’t look like I used to, who has time? My children always look impeccable, but sometimes ,I’m embarrassed to say, I look like I just don’t care. I do in fact care, but there is always so much to do and so little time, I end up at the end of my own list. And so I have decided that I am tired of being at the end of my own list, and I give you permission to do the same! Don’t get me wrong. I am not complaining. I am blessed with a wonderfully loving, caring husband and two beautiful, if sometimes a big whopping handful of craziness, daughters. Everyone is healthy and happy except for me. I am happy with what I have, but I started taking inventory and I am not happy with who I am and I can certainly stand to be in better shape. More importantly, I am not happy with the role model I am for my girls. They say a daughter’s father is her role model of what a man should be and how men should treat women, and we have discussed this and my husband is fully aware of his behavior and how it affects what our daughters will look for and expect from the men in their lives. He is a great model of what they should demand from their partners. Now, they ( by they I mean studies have shown:) also say that a daughter’s mother is her role model of how she should treat herself. That is huge and it has hit me like a ton of bricks. Do I want my daughters to grow up thinking that they should be at the bottom of their own list? Certainly not. I want them to have it all. I want them to have the wonderfully loving and caring husband, the awesomely loved and healthy children, and I want them to know its OK to take time for themselves because they are as important as everybody else in their lives. I want them to know that they can be and do anything that they have the desire to do. I have been so caught up in being the perfect Mommy that I have forgotten to be the perfectly strong woman, to be happy with who I truly am, to be my best me. This has been the catalyst to my new quest. I am going to take time for me. I am going to take the time to workout and put on make up. I’m going to make time to fix my hair and read a book. I find myself going through the motions when it comes to myself. I mean, come on, in what world is it acceptable for grown women to use a ponytail as an excuse for a hair style? None, I am pretty sure that if it were up to my husband, he’d cut it off while I slept except for the fear that my hair would look even worse with a chunk missing. I suppose its the same world where we occasionally think there is an acceptable reason that we can allow ourselves to wear our pajamas when we drop our kids off to school. I personally have never done this one but have seen it done many times and ,God knows, I am guilty of trying to rock the ponytail at the age of 36. And aren’t those “yoga pants” just a clever marketing ploy to allow us to wear our pajamas in public without wearing our pajamas in public? The scary thing is that this is all acceptable to us Mommies until we spend a little time with our single or non Mommy friends. Then it hits us, “Wow, look at her hair, with the great style, and the highlights that don’t start 2 inches from the crown!” This is usually accompanied by a wonderful manicure and pedicure, remember those? I used to love those. And of course she is wearing something that fits appropriately, is actually in style “this” year, and doesn’t have food, smudge, spit up or any other sticky baby residue on it. And of course, her face is flawless and rested ,with no signs of circles under her eyes, because she actually slept the night before. Those are the times when I am left feeling a little short. Which is crazy because I used to have and do all those things and I have a masters and can speak 4 languages but ,yet, I feel embarrassed. I feel like I snuck into the party and am waiting to be found out. Any minute, all the people in the real world are going to be like “Hey, aren’t you suppose to be at that ‘other’ party over there? The one with all the ponytails and pajamas!” Really, I am lucky because the party with the ponytails is where all the fun is.That’s where my kids are at, but sometimes I want to be able to go to the grown up party and I want the transition to be seamless. The whole appearance thing is just a part of it. It is symbolic of the rest of the package that is me. I’d occasional like to be able to have a conversation with an adult about something other than what our children are doing. Maybe do something that utilizes some of that education that I have acquired. I need to create a solution and only I can do it, because it’s my problem. I’m the one who has let myself become a second class citizen in my own world. Remember the good old days when you had the time and energy to actually figure things out or put the effort in to fix those things in your life you were wanting to be better? That’s why I have decided that I have to make time to take care of me, or I am not as good as I could be for everyone else. I am going to pursue my dreams with all the passion that I have pursued acquiring perfection as a Mommy. I know that being a Mommy is the most important thing that I will ever do, because to me, there is nothing more important than raising great human beings that are an asset to the world but part of that is raising strong women who have a strong sense of self. So, in order not to fail them and myself, I have given myself permission to make myself a priority in my own life…at least one of the top 3:) Here’s to being who we really are, and being a priority in our own lives! Now, go forward and take the time to find yourself again; permission granted!

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play dates, parenting, motherhood

Estimated reading time: 3 minutes

Four years have passed since the birth of my first child, that means it has been just about 3 years and 3 months ( give or take) since we entered the world of play dates. I know, we were late to the scene. What can I say?Anyways, I digress.

At the time we entered the world of play dates we we’re new parents who had recently relocated to a new part of the country with a tiny baby. Honestly, I didn’t know which way was up. Play dates were quite possibly the link to my sanity. Being bound and determined to give my child the “best childhood ever” ( because that was my quest), signed Ella and I up for a couple of the “it” classes that are imperative for children at that age, if they are to become anyone later in life.( *insert sarcasm font here!)

Play dates are the great equalizer.

We went to our classes and I cast my net far and wide. I tried to gauge from our brief encounters and the public interactions of Mommies with their children, who just might be worthy of our friendship, or at the very least, which other Mommies were on “my” level. I know, it sounds horrible when you say it out loud. Keep in mind, this scenario is very much like freshman year in college. You are scared, alone, new to the area and willing to befriend and accept just about anyone into your “clique”. You’ve got to start a clique so you can be a part of something. So, to recap, we have a need to belong to the best clique (for our children’s benefit, of course) but we are so desperate we end up being play date friends with anyone who’ll have us. That is until we get our bearings and regain our senses.

Play dates are a necessary evil of motherhood.

In most cases, the original play date relationship dynamic devolves and eventually ends in a slow, painful death. You see, the original net we cast to catch some play date friends usually has a lot of throw backs. Just like freshman year, we find ourselves floundering to unmake the original friendships because we find that we have absolutely nothing in common, except for our one common denominator, said children. Don’t feel too bad for these throwbacks because just as sure as I threw some back, I was thrown back by some. We all are. Just sometimes we don’t even know it because we are too exhausted to know…or care.

Unfortunately, just having children is not usually enough to sustain a real friendship but it can foster a false sense of belonging. It seems to be ingrained into our minds that we need to subject ourselves to rejection in order to feel accepted. I don’t know why we do this as people, even less so as Mommies because then we are dragging our poor children into this pit and doing it all under the guise that “this is whats best for my baby”.

In our hearts, we mean only good and could never, at its inception, perceive or fathom what twilight zone like situations we may soon find ourselves in on a play date. I could talk about the phenomena of play dates for days, but we’ll save that circus for another day.

Why do we subject ourselves to play dates?

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