I Love Lucy Jean

Where Cori Begins and Mother Ends

2019-03-06T11:03:00.002-06:00

I started out this morning, writing a very introspective piece about the winter blues. But, as the words flowed from my mind to my fingertips, the theme slowly shifted to another battle that I have within myself.

I struggle with being an individual and being a mother. Most of the time, I don’t feel like I can be both at once.

If you were to run into me today and ask me what my purpose in life is, my focus, my end-game, I would say that I just wanted to raise my children to be good people.

I spend about 90% of my day thinking about, or doing things for, my children. I open my eyes every morning to the face of one of my kids staring back at me, and I go to sleep every night asking God to be with them. Even things that are seemingly for me, I do to make our routine smoother or to make my little family happy or proud. Cleaning the house, cooking, organizing, working, it’s not just for me anymore. And, as I think about my purpose, even if I circle away from being a mother just once, it comes back around to just that. The children are such a huge part of my life right now, embedded within almost every single activity of my day. It’s near impossible not to focus on that aspect of my life.

In fact, how many mothers out there noticed that I didn’t include the role of “wife” within this post yet? If you did, good for you. If you didn’t, I get it! Because, Heath and I, at some point, put our relationship on the backburner and moved the kids right up to the front. It’s not something we discussed or did intentionally. It just happened. Just as, the day I saw two lines on that pregnancy test, “individual Cori” packed up her skinny clothes, expensive shoes, impractical bras and underwear, and waved goodbye. Mother Cori moved in – with her dark circles, mom-bod issues, and quick fuse for things that she can’t control. She may have also brought several pairs of black tights, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. It is what it is…

There have been points in my motherhood, thus far, when I was so wrapped up in the children that I completely lost sight of myself – and certainly lost sight of Heath (unless it was to beckon him for assistance with the kids). One day, however, the kids were slow getting around for the day, came home to just complain about being bored, and then wouldn’t eat what I cooked for supper. Feelings, that I wasn’t quite aware of, or had been ignoring, just came bubbling out. I started in on a lecture about how spoiled they were, how they take everything they have and everything I do for granted, how I give, give, and give some more, and they don’t appreciate it. I quickly realized that I was resentful. To no fault of my children, I put all of my focus and energy in them, and was mad that they didn’t appreciate it. Of course they didn’t. They didn’t even notice that I was pouring my being into them. How could they?

I knew then that I had to start doing things for myself again. It wasn’t just an excuse for “unmotherly” behavior. It was to make me a better mom. I didn’t want to feel resentful. It made me grumpy and irritable, and I wasn’t being a good role model to the kids. What is it that they always say? You can’t pour from an empty cup? Well, yeah, and in my version, my cup was empty and theirs were overflowing onto the floor. Then, of course, I was having to clean up the mess.

It is an active effort to make time for myself. I try to schedule girls’ nights out, try to do an activity each week that is something that I want to do, take at least an hour in the evening to watch TV or read a book. But, it is a constant struggle. There is a lot of guilt involved. And when you don’t feel like you need to be doing something for the kids, you feel like you need to be doing something for your husband. The balancing act is extremely difficult and I suck at it the majority of the time.

My cycle is this: give, give, give, get angry, be selfish, restart.

And, it is truly no one’s fault but my own. I do it to myself. I keep thinking that I can give, give, give, and then not be affected by it. Until, I am. Then, I’m reminded to focus on me a little too. In fact, when I get my head out of the Lucy, Olive, and Henry clouds, I kind of panic. If I lose sight of myself while raising children, what is going to happen when they’re all out of the house? Will I even know myself? Will Heath even know me anymore?

I have to make time for me. And, to step up onto a soapbox for a second, we have to stop making moms feel guilty about that.

Take your friend up on the invitation to go out. Don’t feel bad for getting a sitter two weekends in a row. Buy the outfit. Go workout for half an hour. Don’t shame another mom because she is having a beer while cooking dinner. Do the thing, say yes to the thing, enjoy the thing. Focus on you.

If you do it, then I will be reminded to do it too.

And, if you do it, I will grasp the value in it again.

And, if you do it, then I won’t feel so guilty choosing me every once in a while as well.

See how that works? (Stepping down from my soapbox now.)

I’ve seen someone compare motherhood to the oxygen masks on planes. You are supposed to put yours on first. Then, help the person next to you. While I completely understand and respect this concept, I wonder about actually experiencing this scenario. How many of you, in a state of panic, would totally start to put your child’s on first? I am almost certain that I would at least reach for theirs before reminding myself to “follow the rules.”

I think, for a lot of us, our instincts tell us that our children come first. They are the most important. Who cares what happens to me?! Take care of my babies! Am I right?

But…if you are fighting for air, you can’t help your babies…

I know you wanna pour your cup into theirs, and reach for their masks first, because you love them more than anything in this entire world. But, remember yourself. Keep your eye on her. When you are balanced and happy, your home is balanced and happy.

This is your reminder. This is my reminder.

Bath-Robe & Slippers

2019-02-19T09:24:00.000-06:00

My last post was about using a cleaning schedule. I noted in that post, that sometimes you get behind on things. Some days you miss tasks. Some weeks you miss tasks. And, some months are filled with idle days of recuperation.

That last one is about where I’m at these past few weeks.

I am actually really great at giving advice on how to plan, organize, adjust, etc. But, I am also inherently lazy. So, sometimes I do not follow through with my own advice. The good thing I have going for me is that I eventually get out of my funk and get back on track. I consider that to be a win. After all, I truly do love to plan, organize, adjust, etc.

Now, let’s address the reason why I am writing today.

I drop my kids off for school in my bath robe and slippers.

To make matters worse, I have my pajamas (read tank top and athletic shorts) underneath said robe. I am not usually wearing a bra. My hair is unkempt, just thrown up into a messy bun or clip. And, I do not brush my teeth.

If I were to get into a fender bender on the way to or from school drop-off,…knock on wood…I would run, guys. I would wave a sad, apologetic wave, and speed that minivan the hell out of there. Because, the state in which I drop the kids off for school is perhaps my worst look (maybe aside from freshman year photo day in H.S.).

My “staying-at-home” didn’t start this way. In fact, in those days, I would have judged the crap out of me. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t be the mom in a robe, disheveled and scrambling to get the kids around. Why couldn’t she just put herself together? Why didn’t her vanity, or sense of self for goodness sake, motivate her to at least wash her face or brush her hair? And, a robe? It’s truly just fulfilling a stereotype.

The truth is, some of you are probably still judging me. I get it. From the outside in, I judge me too. I see plenty of stay-at-home moms who do the drop-off, who look fabulous. They stand tall and chit-chat with passers-by, while waving big at other parents. They are a far cry from me, who ducks my head and tries to hide behind anything and everything, as to not make eye-contact with anyone.

How I got here was a slow progression. It took me almost four years to perfect, in fact. And, not to brag, but I am killin’ it.

When I had one or two children to get around in the morning, I was managing to also spend some time on myself. Henry would be the one in his pajamas. He was a baby; it was expected. Some days I would choose to hit snooze one more time and forfeit make-up. And, some days, I would hit snooze two more times, and forfeit my makeup and hair.

This may be a good time to remind you all that I hate mornings. I am not a morning person. I think my family members and particularly my husband thought that my disdain for mornings was just a juvenile phase in my life; that one of these days, I would grow-up and become a part of the morning society. Well, not so much. I am just a few days into 33, and well it’s looking like mornings are still the worst. Sorry, Husband.

In summation, when you hate mornings, making excuses to sleep a bit more is easy peasy.

This year, everything changed. Yes, before now, I wouldn’t exactly want to see anyone at school drop-off. I certainly wasn’t ready for a close-up. But, it was manageable – not totally embarrassing. Perhaps everyone would think I was on my way to the gym or something. Then, all three of the kids were in school.

Early in the year, I quickly realized that I had to get up significantly earlier to get us all around. In our house, it’s not as easy as waking them up, telling them to get dressed, and then going to get myself ready. My kids…they need constant supervision. It sucks to say that. But, it’s true.

One time, I told Olive to brush her teeth and went to get ready. I checked on her 15 minutes later and she was dancing, half-naked in her room, and had still not brushed her stinkin’ teeth. Ugh. Unfortunately, my kids are only motivated by the continual barking of their mother. I mean, I am pretty damn good at it, if I say so myself.

So, leaving their side to go do other things for any extended period of time is out of the question. If I do anything, it has to be within ear-shot, so I can continue to sing my greatest hits:

"Get ready!"
"We are gonna be late!
"Fine. If you don't get around, you won't have time for breakfast."
"If you want to be late, that's fine with me. It's up to you."
"Leave each other alone!"
"Don't look at each other; get dressed in separate rooms!"
"Where are your shoes?"
"Go find your shoes!"

While typing this, I had the epiphany to just record myself saying these things. I could get up and play it on a loop throughout the house. Hmmmm...perhaps this could streamline things…

Anyway, these hectic mornings of supervision taught me two things. I would either have to get up super early, before waking my kids, to get around for drop-off. Or, if I tried to get ready at the same time as my kids, I was rushed and cranky, and the mornings were miserable.

To make matters worse, after I do drop-off, I generally come home to sit down at my computer. I pay bills, put things on our calendars, send cards, buy gifts, work on my classes, or write blogs. So, I’d be sitting at the computer, by myself, with makeup on, after having rushed around, yelling at my kids, just to come back home. In those moments, I would reflect on how I’m doing as a parent and the time I had after drop-off to get around. Why did I rush to do it in such a short period of time, when I could just do it afterward, when I was alone?

I had decided that I wasn’t going to worry about my hair or makeup before school anymore.

And, as long as I was staying in the car the whole time…I decided not to brush my teeth either. The thing with that is… I don’t like the way my coffee tastes after I brush my teeth. So, I drink my coffee beforehand. Really, this is just a PSA; keep back at least three feet until after I’ve had my coffee (or am forced to actually go somewhere).

Then, for Christmas, I asked for a robe and slippers. Letting the dogs out without them was mighty cold. Thankfully, I got both this year! I ~~live in~~ love them.

But, little did my husband or father and step-mother know, they were enabling me. The robe and slippers became the first things I slipped on in the morning. And, I realized that I didn’t even have to put on a bra! I should…but, I don’t have to…so…ya know…I don’t.

And, so, the evolution was complete. Well, I think it is. I don’t know how it could get any worse, really. So, I think it is complete.

I think it is important for me to talk about this. It’s not because I feel the need to justify my actions. Although, I think it is good for some people to read about how I got this way. Ha ha. But, also, I think it is important for people to know that you choose your battles. I decided, I like the mornings a whole lot more when I don’t stress myself out about getting around. I focus on the kids, and on making coffee while they eat breakfast, and I worry about myself after 8 am. After drop-off, I take a deep breath and remember that I am also a person separate from being a mom. But, until that finish-line of drop-off, I am all-in with the morning routine.

Yes – many, many other parents manage to get all of their kids (more than three sometimes!) to school on time, while looking great, and presentable, and like they have it all together. And, they actually might. And, so many parents manage to get everyone in their house around for drop-off on their way to work – or get their kids to the bus stop. I applaud them. I really do. And, for the record, I was once one of them…

But, mornings were an absolute sh*t show at our house. And, for us, for our situation, I was always angry and lecturing, and it was no way to start the day – for any of us. So, I said, something’s gotta give. I can get up earlier, or worry less about the way I look. And, I chose to hit snooze two more times and say, to heck with my looks! (Secretly praying that I don’t actually run into anyone!)

That’s how I became the stay-at-home mom, who drops her kids off for school in a robe and slippers.

Sorry, kids! Maybe when you listen better, I will be more “put-together,” as to not embarrass you. Someday…

Cleaning Schedules & To-Do Lists

2019-01-28T09:56:00.001-06:00

I feel as though I have been a bit negative lately, or perhaps just a bit whiny. So, I’m gonna switch up things a little bit and discuss my extreme, and selective, particularity. I really like lists, and schedules, and anything that allows me to cross something off. Yeah, there are days when I don’t get to my lists; but, when I get back on track, it’s there just waiting for me and reminding me of all the things I still need to do/cook/plan/mail/buy/budget/etc. These days (I am referring to the days of being in my 30s with three kids in school), I cannot rely on my memory for anything. I make more lists now than I ever have. And, well, I love it. I can certainly get by without lists; but, boy, things sure are easier with them.

One particular topic that I recently discussed with a few moms was a “cleaning schedule.”

I want to preface this with killing any preconceived notions that I have a tip-top-tidy home. I don’t. For instance, I didn’t vacuum the stairs yesterday, because it seemed like too much work. I didn’t clean that glob of toothpaste out of the sink after brushing my teeth. I just gave the console table a quick blow, when I walked by and saw that it was dusty. And, I am avoiding the kids’ bathroom like the plague; it’s going on weeks (shudder).

But, I believe it is all much less overwhelming when I have lists. I can split my chores up, and not wait until someone’s coming over and spend the whole day cleaning! Or, put things off and then regret it later, when it becomes a mounding issue (like the kids’ bathroom! I am waiting Heath out.). If I create a list that allows me to chip away at stuff daily, then it is so incredibly manageable. Plus, it is written down; so, if the family wants to help out in any way, they can see what you were planning to do for the day. :)

With all that being said, I thought I would share information about my cleaning schedule. I had one in the house we lived in before. I even had one when I was working, it was just a bit different than the one I use staying home. Here is the “old one.”

I used that schedule every day and loved it. Then, we moved into the house we are renovating. Renovation and “cleaning schedule” do not go together. So, I temporary lost my cleaning path… That was, until my recent conversation brought me back to the right track! And, I hate to say it; but, I’m excited about my new and improved cleaning schedule!

It’s a sad, sad day when that is your excitement.

My new schedule is incredibly detailed with not only cleaning tasks, but with daily, weekly, and monthly to-dos. I thought it would serve me best that way. Plus, with spending over a year in this house, I have gotten a really great idea of what chores I need to do and what I share with Heath (which isn’t much, actually – that’s not a cut to Heath, just an odd flex for me).

While I share my schedule with you, you must understand, yours will not look the same. No two cleaning schedules, and/or to-do lists, will look the same (not likely, anyway). Thus, I have decided to help you create your own! I have broken it down into steps, as to not overwhelm you.

1) Make a list of chores that you do.

You may decide to make just a cleaning schedule, like my old one, or a "to-do" schedule like my newer one. Nevertheless, the list needs to be very comprehensive for the particular focus. Anything that you complete within a month’s time needs to be on this list. I used Pinterest to remind me of some of the mundane cleaning tasks I might be forgetting. But, since I wanna help you out directly, I have compiled a list of tasks and to-dos for you! Not all tasks will apply to you, or to me for that matter. It is just to help you compile your own list.

Do the Dishes
Wipe Down Kitchen Counters
Pick up
Wipe out the fridge
Make Beds
Collect, Sort, Wash, Fold, & Put Away Laundry
(You can break it up, into multiple days, if you want. For instance, I collect, sort, wash, and fold in one day; I put it away the next day.)
Vacuum
Sweep
Mop
Dust (this could be split into multiple days by rooms)
Clean sinks, vanities, and showers
Clean toilets
Clean mirrors
Clean windows
Complete Correspondence (e.g. pay bills, send birthday cards, etc.)
Budget or Update Budget
Mow the lawn
Pull weeds
Weed eat
Trim bushes or trees
Work in the garden
Water flowers outside
Water indoor plants
Clean windows from the outside
Clear expired food or leftovers from the fridge
Plan &/or Prep Supper
Pick up your kids’ rooms and/or toyroom
OR, a personal favorite, make your kids clean their own rooms and/or toy room
Set out kids’ clothes for the next day
OR, set out the kids’ clothes for the whole week
Wash the bathroom rugs
Clean the dishwasher
Clean the Clothing Washer
Clean out the dryer tube
Clean the microwave
Clean the oven
Clean your shower and sink drains
Take out the trash
Make a grocery list or meal plan
Go grocery shopping
Declutter certain rooms
Go through your kids’ clothes to check for items that are too small or ruined
Clean out your car
Detail your car
Wash your car
Vacuum out your car
Update your calendar/planner
Go through mail
Go through kids’ backpacks
Sweep out the garage
Go through or file important papers
Disinfect door knobs and light switches
Clean out light fixtures
Clean ceiling fans
Wipe down heavy traffic-area walls and doors (grimy hands!)
Wash your bedding
Wipe down walls, or collect spider webs in the corner of rooms (it happens!)
Feed and Water the Pets
Empty the Litter Box
Clean your pet’s bed
Clean your pet’s kennel
Put your pet’s bowls through the dishwasher
Set aside time to work on your side gig (mine is for my classes I teach online)
Sweep off the porch
Dust off items on the porch
Hose down outdoor toys/furniture/etc.
Back up your phone
Go through the junk drawer
Vacuum under the couch cushions
Vacuum your mattress
Move furniture and vacuum
Go through your magazine pile and purge
Dust the inside of your china hutch
Clean the refrigerator water tray
Clean the tiny parts on the coffee pot
Wash winter jackets, gloves, and hats
Prep Breakfast for the week
Prep lunches for the week
Prep dinners for the week
Make baby food
Clean/organize drawers
Clean/organize closets

And, I’m sure there are hundreds more. But, that is all that I could come up with. Hope it helped you come up with a good list that applies to you, your family, and your home. The good news is, if something else comes up, you can just add it on!

Some items that you may spy on my list that could require explanation include: changing out holiday décor, washing blankets, switching out hand towels, replenish TP supplies, clean “sort boxes,” and go through “sort papers.” Let’s take it one at a time.

Changing out holiday décor is something that I have always wanted to do and try to do regularly. So, about once a month, I switch mine out for the new, approaching season.
Washing blankets is included because we are a blanket family! We have special “living room blankets” that we use nightly. The kids all have an extra blankey on their beds, and there are several just around the house. I try to wash them regularly, to keep them from getting funky.
I sometimes lose track of how long the hand towels have been hanging in the bathroom...so, I put it on my weekly schedule to switch them out. It’s kinda gross not to, right?
Replenishing TP supplies means that I will go to our “garage pantry” and get extra toilet paper rolls to put in the designated baskets in each bathroom. If I don’t have this written down, I end up in the bathroom with nothing but Vapor Lotion Kleenexes. Have you been there? Not pleasant.
And, the last two are cleaning my “sort boxes” and “sort papers.”
In my craft closet, and in my desk area, I have spots that are my “throw zones.” I don’t always want to take the time to file a specific paper or put the twine back in the bag/box I have it in. So, I have a throw area. I allow myself to fill up that spot/box/tote, and usually about once a month, I go through it and file or organize it. While I LOVE organization, I am also realistic. We don’t always have the time or energy to put things away exactly where they go, especially when you are in a hurry. So, I would recommend that you also have a “throw zone.” BUT, make sure you come back at least once a month to organize it, or more often depending on what is being put there.

Also, at my desk, I have two areas, a “to-do” and a “throw zone.” Once I’ve completed something, I put it into the “throw zone.” I never put anything in that zone that I will want access to in the short term. So, don’t just throw your bills or other action items into that spot!

Let’s move on to the next step of our cleaning schedule creation.

2) Next to each item on your list, write down how often you do it.

This may change over time. You may see the need to do something more often, or less often. But, again, you can adjust your schedule as time goes on. Some examples of this step are below:

Feed and Water the dogs – every day

Dishes – every day, but Saturday

Dust – once a week

Mop – every two weeks

Wash your car – once a month

Do this with each task before moving forward. If you look at my schedule very closely, please don’t judge me for barely ever washing our bedding. I hate making beds!

3) Either draw out, or create in MS Word, a calendar.

As you can see with mine, I just did a table with seven columns (days of the week) and five rows (four weeks in a month, with a day header). You may decide, depending on the schedule you want, to only include Monday through Friday. Or, to lump Saturday and Sunday together, to allow for some flexibility. Or, if you really like your Wednesday mornings, you could omit Wednesdays! You can create whatever schedule works best for you. Just make sure you include the header to clarify what day, and four weeks total.

The reason that you don’t want numbers on there is to be able to reuse the schedule over and over again, not just following along with the calendar. You certainly post specific dates, if you want. But, you will have to edit your schedule every month, and I just thought that was too much work – for me.

Now that you have your list of tasks, your frequency of completion, and a blank calendar…

4) …Start making your schedule!

Do this by putting all of your daily activities in first, then your weekly, then bi-weekly, and so on. You will likely have to move things around a bit, to make sure you aren’t overloading certain days. For example, I mow in the summer time. It is a time-consuming chore; so, on that day, I try not to do too much other stuff. Or, on the day I go to get groceries, I don’t want to also mop the floors! You get the idea.

You may also just have personal preferences. If you are a go-getter on Mondays, load that day up! If you hate Mondays, give yourself a slow start. You will soon figure out what works best for you. Mine probably changed thirty times!

Here is my first draft...written by hand and then typed and changed some more!

I also included little boxes in my table (in the upper, right-hand corner of each day), to allow for me to write the date. It keeps me from getting lost on my sheet. But, this is not required. As long as you are crossing things off, you should know where you are at in the month.

5) Finalize and print your new “cleaning schedule.”

Once you feel like all of your days are balanced, you may print your schedule out (or re-write it). You could keep an electronic file to check-off each day too; it is entirely up to you. I prefer having something I can scratch off with a nice, cheap BIC pen. I find it very satisfying. Haha.

If you decide to print it, you now have two options:

Laminate it.
Print a new schedule each month.

At first, and in the other house, I laminated the sheet. In the other house, I actually covered it entirely in clear tape, and stuck it to the back of the cleaning closet door. This time, I used my laminator (nerd-alert!).

I tried to use an ultra-fine point, dry erase marker to write the days and to check things off. It wouldn’t write on it…ugh. So, I had to use a regular fine point, dry erase marker, and well…it was fairly sloppy.

Plus, I decided to leave the sheet in the front of my planner, on my desk, rather than hanging it up. I was afraid the marker would smear. So, I decided just to print one each month instead, and not laminate it. (I started this list yesterday.)

It’s so pretty and neat.

But, Heath’s is laminated and he will probably use his like that – if he uses it at all. You see, I took the liberty of making Heath one too. He sure is lucky to have me…hehe. I’m going to hang his up.

6) Now, use the schedule!

Once you have it completed, printed, maybe laminated or taped, and you have decided where to put it, you can use it! Each day, you can cross off your tasks. And, whatever you don’t get done, you can work on the next day. So, if things come up, don’t fret. You will know what you didn’t get done and fit it in when you have time. And, if you get really far behind, it’s like taking medication.

“Take the dose as soon as you realize that you missed it. If it is close to the time of your next dose, wait and take it at that time.”

What I'm getting at is - if you dust once a week and miss it four days in a row, well, you might as well put the two together and split the difference. Or, just wait until the next time it is on your schedule. What I don’t want to happen, is that you get so far behind that you are carrying over several tasks each day. Give yourself some slack. Some things, like washing bedding, will just wait. Grossly…but, it will wait!

OR, if you get really far behind one month, because it happens, ask for help. It is easier, because you know exactly what needs to be done to relieve you. :)

I hope that this helped you a bit! I truly believe it helps me from getting too overwhelmed with things; even though, my schedule is kinda overwhelming in of itself. I just chose to be very inclusive. This is a process that you may consider completing for or with your spouse too, or for your kids (with their involvement). It may help them with simplifying their schedule as well!

And, on a final note, I must disclose that we do not make our beds every day, even if it is on the schedule. I thought maybe writing it down would motivate me….uh-huh….

Sacrifice

2019-01-24T10:56:00.001-06:00

We aren’t supposed to talk about the sacrifices we make to be mothers.

Yes – we will acknowledge that we give up our bodies (ugh!), our money, and our free-time. And, of course, we follow up any complaint with, “But, I’d do it all again for those beautiful babies!”

And, that last part is true.

Well, it’s true for me, and I think most mothers. You love those babies so much it hurts. The thought of losing them cuts deep, deep into your soul; it takes you to such a dark place that you can’t even fathom the possibility of it.

But, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I’m going to talk about the other sacrifices we make as mothers.

When I considered having children, people would drop little hints of the unknown sacrifices. But, with a huge smile on their face and a giggle, they would say, “But, it is the most wonderful thing in the world!” Which, it really is the most wonderful thing in the world…Yet, I soon realized that the snicker, that little laugh, that was a tiny concealed glimpse into reality. They giggled, because it’s hell, and you just may lose yourself in the process.

Let’s talk a little more about how you sacrifice your time. No, not just that the hours you used to spend watching television or going out. You give up every single minute of every single day. If you aren’t with the kids, you are cleaning up after them, washing their clothes, preparing snacks for school, washing jerseys, laying out clothes for tomorrow, and so on. You try to have adult conversations with your husband, but even those will be interrupted with multiple taps on the hip or a billion, “Mamma. Mamma. Mammas.” Even sleeping is not safe. You will find yourself getting angrily shaken awake multiple times a night, and no night’s sleep is ever guaranteed.

And, in your sleepless state, you will sacrifice your mind. The kids have made me a bit crazy, yes. However, what I mean is: you never think the same way again. The world becomes so much more terrifying. The metal slide you once looked at with nostalgia, has become a tetanus nightmare of heat and sharp edges. That weird old man that you’d just walk by with a nod and a half-smile…is a potential child-abductor. And, anytime you watch the news, you get sick to your stomach thinking about raising your children in this world we live in. And, if your perspectives haven’t changed, then your thoughts have. Because, once you have kids, every second of every single day (broken record!), you think about them. It’s not obsessive. But, everything you do is in consideration of them. Even planning a night out…where will the kids go? Are they all healthy? Will the sleep well? What should I pack? Should I send snacks with them? What time do I have to be back to pick them up? Should we leave their car seats? Will they be able to get ahold of us? Should we not drink, just in case there is an emergency?

Sometimes, instead of the planning, you sacrifice your plans. I think this one is probably pretty taboo to even mention. And, it is very likely that I am just a selfish person, which I wouldn’t completely disagree with…

Not too long ago, we had some friends getting together. It’s the middle of winter; so, we all have a bit of cabin-fever. Heath and I were feeling overwhelmed with the house, our work, the kids’ winter craziness, and so on. Going out with some friends and having a laugh sounded great. But, we couldn’t find a sitter. We had to bow out, while other friends still got together. And…it made me mad. I was mad that we couldn’t go.

I was ever madder that no one ever told me that I would feel that way. I knew that I had to give up going out, unless I found a sitter. But, no one said, “You are really going to need a break, and sometimes you just won’t be able to do anything that you want to do, and it sucks.” Because, that’s true. There are days, weeks even, that I don’t do anything that I want to do. Most days I can squeeze in some of my garbage television programs or some Pinterest surfing after bedtime. But, other days I do nothing “for me.”

And, as far as Heath goes? Ha! Heath who? Oh, the guy I wake up every night, when crawling into bed late, because I insist on staying up to have five seconds to myself? Oh, yeah, that guy. I wouldn’t know, because I have sacrificed my relationship too – or, at least parts of it. That may be a bit dramatic. But, I believe it to be mostly true. We have to literally work on ways to connect. We have to make effort to even have conversations! We have to have date nights, and daily texts, just to feel like we are doing more than co-parenting as really great roommates. And, full-disclosure, sex becomes this quiet, rushed thing, which happens in the same place, behind a locked door. Anything more is just gonna have to wait until the kids are out of the house, or we’re 50…

Now, this isn’t supposed to be a “don’t have kids” post. Because, they are wonderful and they make my heart so incredibly full, and I seriously would do it again. But….we have to stop making it seem easy. I feel like our generation is the first to stand up and be like, hey! WTF? This is way harder than anyone said it was going to be and anyone else made it look. Everyone has been hiding the work, the difficulty, the struggle. It isn’t realistic, and exactly who are we hiding it for?

It is hard. It is so hard. It’s time. It’s money. It’s work. It’s patience. And, it is a lot of sacrifice.

I’d do it again. Yes. But, I’d be lying if I wasn’t mad sometimes about how much I have to give. I give, and I give, and I give. And, sometimes, I just want to do what I want to do. And, sometimes, I get mad that I can’t. And, that’s okay. It is okay to feel selfish. We signed up for this, yes. But, we didn’t decide to bottle our feelings and pretend they don’t exist.

So, let’s stop pretending that we’re all happy to give our everything. Because, I for one, struggle with it sometimes. And, I can’t be the only one…

(Oh, and, a little thank you from the kids would help too. That should happen sometime…hmmm…never.)

Then, I’ll Feel Pretty.

2019-01-18T13:56:00.000-06:00

I specifically remember being in junior high, looking in the mirror and thinking, “After I get my braces off, then I’ll feel pretty.”

I got them off and felt like a million bucks. Soon, I shifted my thoughts though…My body was alright and all; but, I didn’t have abs. I believed, “If I could just do a bunch of sit-ups each day, then I’ll feel pretty.”

As a young teenager, I felt comfortable enough with myself to not obsess over my insecurities. I didn’t hide in the locker room, or shy away from situations where I was the center of attention. But, I still felt like I could look better. I wasn’t like the models on TV or in magazines. And, I wasn’t “as skinny” as so-and-so was…

Senior year, butt dimples appeared. I was crushed. At 18, I started hiding behind clothes in the locker room and I became very insecure about my increasing weight. I’d let go of this idea of abs. Now, if only I could have a toned butt, then I would feel pretty.

It was that summer after senior year that I caught a glimpse of the back of my legs in a mirror. And, I was sick to see…hail damage – as I’ve heard it so offensively called. My hamstrings were not toned “enough,” and I swore that I wouldn’t wear shorts again, until I “fixed it.” Once I toned my legs, I would feel pretty.

The freshman 15 in college showed up, and then perhaps 15 more…

I cried and cried to Heath about my insecurities. If I could just lose the weight again, then I would feel pretty.

At 20, I started weight watchers. I lost the weight. I felt great. But, those love handles… My body profile was just so thick. I needed a tiny waist. If I could manage to lose just a few more pounds, then I would feel pretty.

The next few years, I tanned in tanning beds. I dyed my hair. I got mani/pedis. I bought new clothes. But, I would still obsess over what to wear, to hide my thick middle area. And, that’s when my “bat wings” showed up. When I waved, my arm skin would jiggle. I swore off tank-tops.

Then, I got pregnant. All of a sudden, those silly insecurities flew out the window. They were laughable, actually. The next two years would be the hardest for me to ever endure in regard to my own body image. I gained a lot of weight – 54 lbs actually. And, I was not blessed with a forgiving body at that. I got stretch marks in places I didn’t even know one could get stretch marks. Maybe more water would have helped; but, my doctor assured me that it is mostly a genetic thing. Awesome. Sorry, Lucy and Olive…

Accepting this new me, which could never be changed back was difficult. I held on to the idea for so long that I was somewhat in control of my looks. Just some hard work could make it better, if I became motivated enough to do it. But, stretch marks? Well, hello there! Welcome to my life, we’re gonna be together for…ev…er.

At 24, I lost the weight and was very close to my pre-pregnancy weight. But, my body was not the same. This was the time when I wished I had worn the shorts, worn the tank tops, felt comfortable in the body that I look back on now with appreciation…and sadness…

As I aged, and more babies came alone, I thought that weight loss, and clear skin, and better hair, and tan skin, and wrinkle cream, could all make me feel pretty. If only I could fix this or that, I’d feel pretty…

Now, these may sound like the ramblings of someone who suffers from body image issues. Truth is, I don’t. Yes, I go through at least ten outfits any time I’m going out. Yes, I watch makeup tutorials on YouTube, and died a little when I had to search for “makeup tutorial for under-eye wrinkles.” Yes, I dye my hair. Yes, I sometimes stare in the mirror for ten to fifteen minutes before jumping into the shower, just assessing what I got going on. And, yes, I watch Botched on E! and wonder what Dr. Dubrow would do to “fix me up.”

But, it isn’t an unhealthy obsession for me. I truly believe that my feelings are not uncommon. I may be vainer than some, but I am also less vain than some. Nevertheless, I think to some level many people feel this. For moms, I feel like it is much more amplified. Perhaps I’ll go into that another time…

This past summer, I certainly spent too much time focusing on my body image issues. After being put on an anxiety medication, I started to gain weight very quickly. I have always eaten like garbage for the most part, but am pretty good at maintaining. It was all that baby weight following me around. This time though, on this medication, was the first time I gained uncontrollably. It was the middle of bathing suit weather and I was carrying around much more weight than my clothes or I were used to. Then, out of nowhere, I started to get marks on my face that may or may not have been perioral dermatitis (a form of eczema). It was summer! And, here I was packing on layers of clothing and makeup. I was supposed to be in shorts and tank tops, with no makeup. It was a low for me.

Soon, I got my hair dyed a new color and got a new cut. And, my doctor gave me some medicine to clear up my face disease. I was feeling better. One day, as the kids sat in the bathtub, I studied myself in the mirror. I thought to myself, “Now, if only I could lose this weight, I would feel pretty. I would feel content. Yes, I’m old. But, this weight is really what is dragging me down.”

And, I realized - It is always something.

I think back to my 18 year old self not wearing shorts and I want to shake that girl! Or, the girl who wouldn’t wear tank-tops. Or, the girl who thought she needed abs to feel confident. I can’t even put into words the disappointment I have with her – my past self.

As I age, I am getting better and better at these things. I think about them less, and I rely on my personality to state my worth. It is hard though, because I still want to look nice. I still want people to think I’m pretty, as well as nice, fun, kind, humorous, etc. But, it’s amazing how age, and kids, relist your priorities in so many ways. I just didn’t expect my own insecurities to be among of them.

As I gain some sort of wisdom from aging, I keep telling myself. It’s always something. I need to remember that young girl with the metal smile, the girl hiding in the locker room, and the girl layering clothing. Remember how silly she was! And, I know that when I’m 60 (God willing), I’ll look back at this 32 year old and think, “Damn, girl! You were foine!” ;)

While I am still insecure, I am okay with it. It is a part of my life. More than ever before, I can shrug off my insecurities. Yes – I still have random break-downs, where “I have absolutely nothing to wear!” and times when I call myself fat or chubby. But, I don’t find it messing with my happiness, and I don’t let it keep me from being me (most of the time).

It’s always something…so, I might as well enjoy what I have, while I have it.

I'm Trying...Very Trying

2019-01-13T14:28:00.000-06:00

I am currently in the process of reading Girl, Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis. I’ve been reading it for a few months now.

A few months?

Yes, it has been a slow process. It isn’t because I haven’t enjoyed the book. In fact, there were times when I didn’t want to put it down. But, I have been reading it with a group of women that I meet with weekly. I call them my “women’s group.”

(I am very creative with names, obviously.)

It is a small group of young, Christian mothers, who are wanting to…well….do better – in life, as a wife, as a mother, and in the eyes of Christ. We want to feel like our paths have purpose and bring us closer to God.

This group started when we were presented with the book and study guide for The Purpose Driven Life… As a mom, you sometimes lose sight of yourself, and wonder what your purpose is.

Is it possible that being the mother to Lucy, Olive, and Henry is what I was meant for? Am I supposed to be doing something bigger? More grandeur?

All questions that can sometimes be daunting during my late night, anxiety-driven talks with God. So, one of my friends decided to start this group, asking other women who attend our church to join. We started reading the book and meeting once a week to discuss the study guide questions. Since then, we have moved from book to book, reading and discussing, while finding imperative support in one-another. I absolutely love that group of ladies and I don’t ever want our “women’s group” to end.

With that being said, we recently decided to read Girl, Wash Your Face. While it isn’t necessarily a Christian book, we felt like it would align with our stages in life right now. We found a study guide online and dove in, just before the holidays. As you can imagine, with the holidays, we didn’t meet as regularly. Then, sickness hit, and our meetings have been spottier and spottier. It happened last year at this time and it will happen again next year.

We started with one chapter a week. Then, we began to double-up. With so many cancelled meetings, I have truly just lost track of the chapters. I have no clue what one we are supposed to be on for our next meeting (when we can all actually make it!). I am considering just finishing the book, to be prepped whenever we meet again. But, there is another reason I am trying not to read ahead.

You see, I think a lot. I am completely fascinated by people, by society, and why we do what we do. I can barely observe anything, or read or hear about anything without immediately trying to dissect the motives, perspectives, effects, etc. It’s a curse, perhaps. And, as I read Rachel’s words, I have so much to say! I have so much to ask, discuss, add to, or even challenge. I think of how I can incorporate her tips, and add my own “things that worked for me.”

When I prepare to write a blog, right after reading her book, my thoughts get clouded and the thoughts that she has provoked creep in. And, I don’t ever want what I put out into the world to mimic or reiterate what someone else has already done. I want to make sure my thoughts are my own, and inspired by my own continual yearning to “do better.”

And…….wasn’t that a long-winded way of getting to my point?

Because, that is my point…I think.

Rachel Hollis, and about a zillion other authors, have made thousands of dollars on writing books that inspire us or teach us to “do better.” While Rachel makes us feel positive about our efforts, she provides us all with ways to improve certain aspects of our life – tips that require effort. Tips that require trying.

This is a concept that I am still getting used to, believe it or not.

For years, I have expected to have certain things in my life come easily. And, while there are certainly ebbs and flows, most things are difficult at some point. Relationships, jobs, parenting, time-management, cooking, confidence, health, and so on. All things, including Rachel’s tips, need work and require a lot of “trying” on our part.

My last post was about parenting, and that if I just keep trying to do better, then I will be happy with that. And today, as I was driving, I was thinking about marriage.

Sometimes, I get so upset with Heath when he brings up something that he is bothered by, no matter how major or minuscule it is. I will make a suggestion to Heath about something, like, “Hey! Don’t put your cup there. It drives me nuts.”

Very subtle.

Then, he generally apologizes and we move on. But, when Heath make a suggestion to me, like, “Don’t pull so far forward in the garage”…well, I don’t always handle it the best.

And, when Heath makes a suggestion that is even more than just making a conscious effort to park better, like asking me to sit by him to watch a movie or give him more affection, I really don’t handle it well.

(Side note: I am not a very “touchy person;” it’s a work in progress. And, I realize it is likely a character flaw.)

Heath makes very warranted, and by most standards easy, requests. But, for some reason, I get irritated.

As I watched the yellow dashes of the highway quickly disappear beside the car, I came to a conclusion. I get mad because, I know he is right and I know that it will require effort on my part. I realize that I am going to have to try harder.

After a long day of waking the kids, getting them around for school, making sure they have everything they need (snacks, lunch money, book bags, gloves, hats, etc.), grading for my online classes, replying to emails, cleaning the house, starting dinner, picking up the kids, playing with Henry, taking care of the dogs, planning out our week, making grocery lists, sending cards, paying bills, setting the table, helping the kids with their homework, and so-on, and so-on, and so-on…I just don’t know if I have the energy to try even more. I try so hard to be a good mom through my children’s eyes, through Heath’s eyes, and through society’s eyes. I try to keep a clean house and cook well for my family (my love language). I try to keep everything going and running smoothly. I try, and I try, and I try. And, well, when Heath asks me to try some more, I want to pull my hair out.

I know I should. Of course I should! Why should my marriage take a back seat to anything else? It certainly should not. In fact, one could argue that it is more important than parenting, and I wouldn’t completely disagree. But, for me, it is the one thing that sometimes gets put on auto-pilot. We co-exist A LOT. We are constantly having conversations about things we should do to connect; we recognize the importance of working on us. Yet, it is usually the first thing, for us, to lower on the list of priorities.

As I sit in this conclusion of mine, I realize life is so exhausting because there is no end to the trying (on this earth, anyway). It isn’t like I can just decide to be the best wife ever for….let’s say, even a year, and then go back to complacency. It is something I will have to try at my whole life. And, I really should be happy to.

But, I also need to try at a lot of other things, which don’t go away either – parenting, familial relationships, friendships, my relationship with God, my health, and just improving myself. There are certainly days when I can be lazy about each and every one of them; but, overall, I have to put forth effort. I have to try, if I want to find my happiness.

While this entire concept and realization is kind of a hard one to swallow, because I really dreamed of day that I can just be content with my life and have all of the “work” behind me, I think it’s a good epiphany for me to have. Once I accept the true effort required to foster these aspects of my life, I can do better. And, I know that they are all so very worth it.

Practice makes perfect, and I’m gonna give it hell. Here is to more effort, and to more trying.

Parenting Thoughts

2019-01-09T07:00:00.000-06:00

After my post about “one of those mornings,” I quickly realized that maybe you don’t share my same dry, sarcastic humor when it comes to parenting. I haven’t always laughed things off either. In fact, sometimes I can’t. While yesterday was not my proudest morning as a parent, I chose to shake it off and start over again when I picked up Henry (and when the girls came home).

You see, I have spoken with many friends about parenting and I forget that you have not all been included. It’s so incredibly hard. THEE toughest job I’ve ever had. I don’t need to tell you all that, though. You know! And, while many of us have the ability to be a parent, things don’t always come naturally to us when it comes to the actual parenting. Some of us, like me, have to try. Things like the love I feel for those sweet babies or the impromptu hugs and kisses I lay on ‘em several times a day, those things come easily. But, the patience, the understanding, the calmness, and so on, I have to work on. Parenting is a conscious effort – at least for me, it is. That's why it is so exhausting!

As an anxiety-ridden over-thinker, I am convinced that even with that effort, I’m screwing up my kids. I am providing them with terrible habits. I am not doing enough for them, talking enough to them, reading enough to them. I talk too much about my own eating habits and body image in front of them. I obsess too much about how clean the house is when they are present. I sometimes don’t forgive easily enough, and raise my voice far too loud. Sometimes I roll my eyes at the whining and say something incredibly sarcastic, just to make myself feel better. I give and I give and I give, and sometimes I get mad that my giving isn’t appreciated. But, I am trying. The day I stop trying is the day that I have failed.

My dad reached out to me after my post yesterday. He said that he saw himself in my words, and regretted that he had passed it down. While I guess I could, I don’t blame him. Because, I like to think that most parents are trying their best. It is just easier for some than others.

Mom, Dad, I’m gonna lump you together now, and I’m gonna make some assumptions. I hope that is alright.

Knowing what I know about my grandparents and their parenting styles (lumped together), I think my parents probably think their own parenting fell short of the ideal, but did “better” than their parents did.

That is my goal. I just want to try to do better than my parents did. Then, maybe my kids can do better than I. And, just perhaps, my great-great-great grandkids will be perfect at it! And, when I say that I want to do “better,” I say that without judgement. Because, parenting is hard and we are human.

Let’s be honest still, parenting isn’t something that we study for. It isn’t something we go to school for, take classes for, or even really read up on (until we are in the throes of a problem!). We use our experiences to learn. We learn from our own parents, grandparents, teachers, etc. We learn what to do, and decide what not to do (if we can help it).

“But, Cori, you have two psychology degrees.”

Why, yes. I do. But, I liken my degrees to Christianity….Ha…Just hold on. Bear with me.

I know what I should be doing. I have studied it and know the “right way” – in the sense that studies suggest…blah, blah, blah. But, knowing what to do and following through with it are two different things. I know that positive reinforcement is the answer…but, damn if it isn’t hard some times. And, just like I know the person Jesus wants me to be, I fall short every single day (like saying damn just a second ago).

Nevertheless, I keep trying. I cry. I apologize. I regret. But, I keep on trying. That, I think, is the best I can do.

One of those Mornings...

2019-01-08T09:45:00.000-06:00

Remember how I mentioned in my last post that sometimes I have bad days? And, sometimes the kids have bad days? Well, I just sat down with my first cup of coffee and it seems as though an entire “bad day” has already taken place.

I want to preface the morning with a description of my mood.

I have been fighting a stomach bug of some sort for a while now. I think I may have gotten whatever tummy stuff is going around; but, my body is doing an okay job of fighting it. I’m avoiding the vomiting, but got all the other fun stuff a sickness brings. I am also particularly moody this week, if ya know what I mean (today is day 3). And, I have been having a hard time adjusting to a regular sleep schedule again; this means that I hit snooze a total of….six times this morning. Overall, I’m a freaking peach.

The kids were fairly cooperative at least. They got out of bed and got dressed at a decent pace. Olive did wander around, sleepy-eyed, wrapped in a blanket much longer than I would have preferred, asking, “What do I wear?” (as she stood right next to the clothes I had laid out for her). But, it wasn’t much of an irregular morning at that point.

Then, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach that doubled me over. I realized that I should probably not go to my MOPS meeting scheduled for this morning. I wanted to go. But, I get livid when people knowingly share their germs/sickness with others. And, I have another Christmas this weekend; so, I’m trying to get better and stay as healthy as possible. The idea of missing the meeting bummed me out. We only get to go to meetings once a month and I truly enjoy them.

I continued on.

It didn’t take long before I noticed that Olive had a sore of some type between her nose and mouth. I don’t get cold sores (knock-on-wood); so, I wasn’t sure if that was all it was or not. I decided to ask her about it.

“Did you scratch your face?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does this hurt?”

“What?”

“You have a sore on your face. Do you know anything about it?”

“Momma, don’t touch it.”

So, things were going well. I was gathering a lot of helpful information.

I began a short, but civil lecture about washing hands and touching faces, etc. I then told her to wash her hands with soap and water. It turned out to be an impossible task, which was easier to lie about than actually do. After a bit of back-and-forth, I finally got her to wash her hands – I’m a horrid mother, I know. I then wet a wash cloth with the intention of cleaning her face.

This was at about 7:35 AM, everybody. So, if you heard the blood curdling screams, that was coming from our house.

You would have thought that I wiped her face with sand paper. So, after the one wipe, I left the scene to throw the washcloth into the laundry room. Walking back past Olive, I just turned my head and threw my hands in the air.

I made my way to the kitchen, meeting the blank stares of the other two kids. They were sitting at the island, eating their breakfast. That is when I made the grand statement of how stupid the situation was – one of my prouder moments of the morning. I then started rummaging through our “pain reliever” container, looking for some triple antibiotic. Olive appeared at my side, and quickly realized what I was doing. She started pleading, “Momma, no!”

Over her yelling, I tried to explain that it wasn’t a painful medicine. But, just her luck, I couldn’t find it. I let out a huff and put the container back in the cabinet. While there, I saw the dogs’ Heartguard that I was supposed to give them yesterday – oops. To remember, I took the box out and threw it on the counter. That act was enough to send Olive over the edge. She collapsed on the floor and started to wail.

This was when I made the second “this whole thing is so stupid” declaration of the day.

After getting Olive composed and cleaned up, I threw a snack cake at her and begged everyone to load up. We were now running late.

Six out of the eight blocks to school were filled with my huffs and statements of anger. Literally, I just repeated, “Ugh. I’m so mad.” - switching out the “ughs” for sighs or huffs, and switching out “mad” for “angry” or “frustrated,” whichever synonym came to mind.

I don’t know why I do it. I guess it is part to make me feel better and part to ‘bring Olive to the realization that her behavior is irrational and unwarranted, making us all a bit grumpier and late this morning, when all I was trying to do was help her and keep her healthy.’ You know, as one could infer…

It was on block seven that I realized that we didn’t have Henry’s winter coat, just a light fleece. He didn’t even have gloves or a stocking cap. As I whirled around to look for it on the floor of the car, I almost clipped another car who was turning onto my street. I immediately mouthed, “Sorry!” to the other driver. I think I knew her too…dammit.

The coat is not there and I was well on my way to ‘Mother of the Year.’

I finally pulled up to the curb. The kids barreled out. And, I yelled, “I love you!” in their general direction, as they ran up the sidewalk. I watched until they were safely inside.

I then closed the van door, locking in the silence of my solitude. I took a deep breath.

“What in the hell…” I whispered to myself.

Now, on with the day…

The Decision to be a Stay-At-Home Mom

2019-01-07T01:27:00.000-06:00

I have been a stay-at-home mother (SAHM) for almost four years. That seems kind of crazy to even type. Four years. Wow. While I feel like I am finally getting the hang of being a SAHM, I also am not at all getting the hang of it. I am convinced that I may never be used to this ever-changing role that I have taken on. Life is that way, though, right? As soon as you feel like you have established some type of routine, you get that curve ball that resets everything.

(Type A cringe of grand proportion)

I have been wanting to address my/our decision for me to stay home ever since the decision was made.

I’m telling you now, this post will be long - like six Word pages long. And, before I jump in, I am gonna say that I am in no way trying to guilt working mothers or convince them to stay home. I think you are amazing and I am in awe of you every day. I have been blessed to be both a working mother and a SAHM. Both are awesome and make me proud to be a woman/mother. As Beyonce would ask, "Who run the world?!"

The first time Heath and I discussed me becoming a stay-at-home mother, I had just had Lucy and was returning to work after an eight-week maternity leave. I struggled putting Lucy in daycare. If you at all read my blog back in 2011, you know how much I struggled. I just couldn’t get over it. But, many other apprehensions won out each time it was discussed and, well, I continued to work. With Olive’s birth, we visited the discussion again. At this point, we had become quite financially “comfortable,” and the idea seemed even further from a reality. I actually liked my job at that time and the people I worked with. The daycare was in my building and since Heath worked at the same place, we rode to and from work together. It really was a great situation for a working mother. It seemed stupid to walk away from something so seemingly ideal.

Then, without going into much detail, I became unhappy in my working role. It became very apparent to me, and every single person around me, that it was time for me to transition to something else. That very difficult point in my life was what pushed me to make the decision that I had been avoiding for many years – five years actually. I was pregnant with our youngest and again, Heath asked me, “Do you want to stay home?”

Every time I heard that question uttered, I immediately became nervous. I can distinctly recall moments in the car, on the way home from work, physically trembling with fear just talking about it. I had several concerns, and fears, and irrational worries. I have decided to share a few with you. Or, maybe ten...

1) Money

The number one concern was an obvious one – money. We needed to figure out if we could even make it work, financially. I knew that we could, in a grand sense. However, we had certainly become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Were we ready to take that cut?

Four years later…
I do not take this point of discussion lightly. Honestly, when it comes to a two-income family, having one of them stay at home is sometimes not even an option. The fact that it was even a consideration for us, was and is a blessing.

At first, it was a huge adjustment that we took on as a challenge. It was actually kind of fun. I took my monthly “allowance” and knew that with every dollar saved, I could celebrate with that money – a night out, a new gadget, some type of splurge, and so on. I wasn’t sure if I could keep up the momentum, but was willing to give it a go. Thankfully, we saved a lot of money right away. Daycare for three children was going to be about 30-40% of my salary anyway. So, there was a huge savings. And, I didn’t need to buy work clothes any longer. My dream of living in Target yoga pants and cheap sweatshirts was now a reality. But, most of all, we were no longer using our money to make us happy.

When I was working, I became extremely unhappy. I was stressed, and pregnant, and working in graduate school, and took my anger/sadness/discontentment home with me every single night. We got home at 5:30 PM, unloaded and settled in by 6 PM, and the last thing I wanted to do was put a meal on the table. So, we ordered out a lot. A lot. I mean, A LOT. I think we were spending almost $600 a month on just eating out. We would justify it with working so hard. We had also started justifying big splurges too. When you work your ass off and are unhappy, you buy things to try and fill your cup. You feel like you deserve it; you work all the time and deserve to use some of it on something that makes you happy, right? Well, we immediately stopped doing that. Mostly because we had to; but, we soon realized that we didn’t need to anymore. With me staying home, we were now happy without the splurging; we were content.

I must also mention that we were very fortunate in our path. It wasn’t long after I started staying home that Heath applied for and received a new job. It has been an amazing blessing in our lives in so many ways. Moreover, it did relieve quite a bit of the financial strain as well. Then, I applied for and received the opportunity to teach online courses as an adjunct faculty member at a local institution. It is sporadic and not a guaranteed income, but it helps financially (and I love it and hope to elaborate more on that another time).

2) Judgment from other People – Society

I kept wondering what other people might think about my decision. Would everyone think I was lazy? Would they think that I got fired? Would they think that I wasn’t smart enough? And also, for me, I was in the middle of a graduate program. The idea that I might start staying home and not “using” my degree, at least right away, seemed silly.

Four years later…
I still struggle with this. Because, let’s be honest, society is judgmental. SAHMs and working mothers both get judgement. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t. For me, I am very insecure about this point in particular. When I thought about people asking me what I did for a living, I would feel sick. How could I say, “I stay at home”? Looking back, I think I may have judged SAHMs a bit too. I don’t even know why exactly; I guess it felt like the “right side” to be on. I blame ignorance.

The entire idea of being scared of what society might think makes me laugh now. As I have become more comfortable in this role, and found other BA SAHMs out there, I don’t feel embarrassed or apologetic. I feel empowered and ready to fight ‘em on it. I am not lazy. I am educated. I am organized. And, WE ARE HAPPY. Period. That is all that matters. It was right for our family. It isn’t right for everyone. But, for us, it is.

3) Judgment from other People – Our Family

Thinking about how Heath’s family might react scared me. Would they think that I was “taking advantage” of him? Would they think I should be doing more, financially, to contribute? And, of course, would they think I was just being lazy?

Four years later…
I was absolutely terrified to tell our family that I was going to be staying home. I made Heath tell his parents. I stressed how important it was for him to let them know he was supportive of the idea. Because, that was KEY. If he didn’t support the idea, it wouldn’t work. While I “run the show” at home. None of this is even possible without Heath. I acknowledge that and probably don’t thank him enough for it.

In the beginning, while everyone was nice about it, I could see the fear in their eyes. They were scared for us. We had a nice home, I was in graduate school, and we had a third baby on the way. No one really knew what our finances were; but, I’m sure it appeared scary from the outside! The fear was again reignited when we decided to take on a fixer-upper, and had two mortgages for a brief period.

You can really only do so much to give family comfort. It took time, I think, before they could see that we are doing alright. And, it took time to see how much happier we became.

4) What if I am not meant to be a SAHM?

What if the idea of staying home seems great, but I wasn’t meant for it? I am not much of a “kid person” - really. That sounds terrible; but, I’m not. I ruled out being an Elementary School Teacher many, many years ago. So, what if I was just not built for this? What if I quit my job and hated being at home? It’s not like you can just go back to your old job and be like, “Ooops. Never mind.” And, finding a new job that I liked and was paid similarly was not guaranteed.

Four years later…
If I said that my first months were easy, I’d be lying. It takes some time to get used to being at home. I felt guilty for any second that I wasn’t doing something. I would basically follow the kids around, picking up anything and everything, making sure the house was spotless. Moments that I now realize are necessary for recharging and sanity, I would fill with multiple activities each day. While Heath never said a word to me about it, I always felt this immense pressure to have the house looking beautiful and have dinner on the table when he came home. That was my new job, right?

Heath has said many, many times that he doesn’t expect anything. And, thank the Lord for him, because you know what? Life still happens. Some days I don’t get everything done. And, sometimes things come up. And, sometimes the kids have bad days. And, sometimes I have bad days. And, sometimes we make frozen pizza for dinner. When I finally embraced that idea, I embraced the reason for staying home. The priority for me was the kids.

Yes, staying home has also allowed me to get more things done during the day, to allow for more family time in the evenings. It allows me to be more involved with the kids’ school lives. And, I could list about a billion other things it gives me the opportunity to do. Bottom line is: I gambled and I won. I love staying at home. And, also, after being at home…I’m still not a kid person. Turns out, you don’t have to be. I just have to be a “my kids” person.

5) Adult Interaction

Being a working mother, you aren’t necessarily privy to all of the SAHM mother programs or activities, day-time volunteer opportunities, or who to even call for play-dates. Everyone I was really good friends with and all of my family, at that time, worked. I would be at home with a 2.5 year old and a baby full-time; my five year old would be there when not in school. Could Heath carry the entire load of my conversational yearning?

Four years later…
I struggled a lot in the first year. I had a newborn too; so, that may have been a lot of the issue. But, mostly, I was not familiar with the SAHM “scene.” Where do I meet other moms? Is there an app that will match me with them? Swipe left? Right?

It was a blessing that a friend of mine suggested our local MOPs group (Moms of Preschoolers). We meet once a month and I absolutely love it. I look so forward to the meetings; but, it has linked me to other SAHMs in the area. I now have a weekly women’s group I attend, and many numbers to text for impromptu play dates.

SAHM full-disclosure: playdates are totally not for the kids, y’all. They are for our sanity. And, maybe a tiny bit for the kids…I mean, they usually sleep better burning off all that energy...

I also decided to just be more open to social interaction. If another mom started up a conversation at t-ball practice, I welcomed it. I never had a reason to seek out new friendships before. Now, it seems like I have so many, and I have so many people to reach out to for anything. My support system grew considerably!

I don’t like to give advice, but I’m gonna. (Actually, I love to give advice, but acknowledge, like, who am I to be giving advice? Anyway, here is my advice…) If you are invited to something, go. I mean, if the only thing that keeps you from going is social anxiety and the fear of being awkward, then please try it. I am SO awkward. You have no idea! And, I am so glad I chose to say yes and to go. The first couple of times are scary and weird; but, you WILL figure out who you have commonalities with. It won’t take long before you…dare I say it?... "find your tribe.”

6) My Husband Might Resent Me

I worried that Heath my start to resent me at some point. The first time we had to say no to a purchase, because it wasn’t in the budget, would he be mad that I wasn’t working? Seeing other people go on expensive vacations or buying this or that, would he be upset with our decision? And, when I was able to sleep-in, or do something fun with the kids, would he be angry that I got to do it and not him?

Four years later…
Heath truly might resent me. In the depths of his soul, there may be some resentment. I don’t know unless he tells me. And, I check in on it from time to time. Heath consistently tells me that he is happy with our set-up, that I can stay home with our children. He is happy with all of it. And, I believe him. I know that there is always the possibility that he may someday change his tune. So, I just make sure that I remember such. I try to make extra time for him. I try to be thoughtful. And, I say, “Yes, you deserve it,” when he suggests buying something for himself – most of the time that is…

7) A Resume Gap

I had a big worry that I would have a resume gap, which I wasn’t even sure at that time how big of a gap that might be! I was concerned that when I decided to jump back into the workforce, people wouldn’t respect the gap and my reason for it – especially men. And, was I ready to start out at a base salary again, and being older this time around?

Four years later…
As mentioned, I was fortunate enough to eventually start a part-time gig. But, before that, I decided to keep my resume alive by volunteering. I was able to apply for and get a position on a local board for a non-profit organization. It was something that related to my work experience, was something that I was passionate about, and gave me an outlet for that yearning to work. That last part probably sounds silly. But, after my first couple of meetings, I told Heath, I just liked the strategic thought and being able to use my work experience and degree in some way. It was a nice fulfillment for me. I got to be successful outside the home as well.

I have also become so comfortable in my role at home that I've become quite defiant about it. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. The more you love your decisions, the less you care what other people think about them. So, if you stay home and you have a resume gap, and a potential boss doesn’t respect it, then what does that say about them? It would indicate that they aren’t going to be A) a decent person to work for, or B) understanding when it comes to family needs. So, maybe you don’t want to work for them anyway…

8) I Cheated My Older Children

Since I didn’t make this decision earlier, when my girls were born, if I stayed home with the youngest, did I cheat the others? Will this make me even sadder about missing out on the time my girls spent at daycare?

Four years later…
I don’t know if I can or will ever overcome this insecurity. Because it is just that. It is something that I personally deal with. I know other mothers who did the opposite of me; they stayed home with older children and then worked while the younger ones went to daycare. And, what it comes down to is doing what is right for our families. I believe in God’s plan and His timing. We weren’t necessarily in the position for me to stay home before, and I don’t know if I would appreciate staying home as much had I not experienced what I did. God is in control and I’ll know if and when it’s time to make another shift.

9) Am I Thickening that Glass Ceiling?

I had previously experienced outright sexism in the workplace, more than once. I won’t go into details; but, I was told that since I was a female and someone else was a male, that [this] is how it was going to be. If I quit, was I just perpetuating the stereo-type? It felt like by staying home, I was telling everyone that I “wasn’t right for the workplace” and “my place was at home.”

Four years later…
Turns out, my place is at home - but, not for the reasons that sexist turd-bag implied…

I don’t believe that SAHMs are “less-than.” And, maybe I am perpetuating some stereo-type by staying home. But, I believe that I could become the first female president tomorrow, and those stereo-types will still exist. All I can do is continue to fight for women who want to do more, and empower my girls. We don’t have to do ALL things that men do. But, we should be able try, if we want, right? And, it goes the other way too, men. Stay-at-home Dads, are ya with me?!

10) Independence

If I stayed home, I would be 100% financially dependent on Heath. I trust my husband. I do. Really. But, giving up all independence is kinda terrifying. What if I stay home, face many of the aforementioned concerns, and then Heath finds himself a 20-something-hottie to leave me for? To Heath, this concept is laughable. Literally, every time I have mentioned this idea, he laughs at me. I didn’t, or don’t, truly believe it would happen. But, I mean…I am a realist as well and I am not going to say that it is impossible. I would be trying to jump back into the work-force and adjusting to my own, likely lower than before, female (78 cents on the dollar) salary - all while adjusting to all the other issues a separation brings.

It was a very small, in the depths of my mind, concern.

Four years later…
I have to trust Heath. I have to let go and let God. There are some things you just can’t obsess about. This, coming from someone who obsesses about everything! But, really, I can’t dwell on an insecurity. If I continue to work on my marriage, and just keep trying, then I can feel content with my efforts. You can only do so much; I am not in control of other people’s actions, and I never will be – no matter how much I would like to be sometimes. So, I try my best and that’s all I can do. And, I respect that.

_____________________________________________

It might be time, or age. But, I am finding comfort and contentment with my decisions. My life. My thoughts. All of it. I know that our life can turn upside down at any minute. I’ve witnessed it. I just continue to have faith in my family, my support system, myself, and most importantly, God.

And again, working moms, you are killin' it. The grass is green over here. But, your grass is green too. Different greens, but both green. I promise.

Disclaimer of an Insecure Person

2019-01-03T12:27:00.000-06:00

I literally closed my browser, with my work page staring me in the face, to open this page. I have a table full of Christmas decorations that need to be packed, just over my left shoulder. But, as I spend the late morning sorting and folding laundry, wiping down counters, and doing dishes, I have been in my head a lot. When that happens, I am inspired to pour thoughts out, and here is where I do so.

I have been absent lately, and I have decided to not apologize for it. I write this for me. If I start to put these arbitrary deadlines of when “I need to post a blog,” then I will be forcing thoughts and ideas. I want this to be for my enjoyment, and for my expression. I want it to be a stress-free place and experience.

All that being said, I have been extremely busy with the holidays. And, Heath took some time off to be home with me and the kids. So, I actually had someone to talk to about complex things…basically, someone to talk to that was over the age of eight. That certainly does take away some motivation to write. But, mostly, any time I had something on my heart, I felt like I would have to tip-toe around the subject. It’s not like I wanted to vent about politics (eye-roll!), abortion, or capital punishment – things that are actually controversial. I wanted to talk about everyday things. Yet, judgement still comes…

I wanted to talk about my anxiety medication. I wanted to talk about my insecurities as a mother. My insecurities with my looks and aging. I want to talk about how marriage is both extremely easy and extremely hard. My pets. Our home renovations. Stay-at-home mothers. Working mothers. Etc.

But, every time I had thoughts racing through my head, I would decide not to post it here. I thought to myself, “I can only talk like that to my good friends and family. I can only say those things to people who won’t judge me – people who won’t twist my words and take them out of context.” I hate that every single time that I write about something, I have to remind everyone that I have “first-world problems” and that I realize how incredibly blessed I am. I know that there are millions upon millions who have it worse than me; I am not naïve or uneducated. But, does that belittle my daily struggles? While someone might find the things that take over my mind to be stupid or unwarranted, it doesn’t mean that they don’t affect me. These are things that mean something to me.

I am not saying that everyone is judgmental. Although, I think that everyone is; some people just decide to share it with the world, while others decide to push those thoughts aside. If you are here and you catch yourself identifying with me at all – thank you. There is so much comfort in knowing that you are not alone in your struggles, even though you know that sometimes they are stupid, and superficial, and not worthy of your time. It just feels like there is always at least one person. One person who has a nasty thought, not worth saying, and decides that they need to share it with the world. Thankfully, I haven’t had anyone make a comment like that to me yet, on this newer blog. Nevertheless, it feels impending.

Truth is…I am an insanely judgmental person. So, I know it exists and I am quite good at running through all of the horrible scenarios in my head, of what people might say. However, I have truly tried to take steps to be more positive and caring. I do believe that it is something that you have to work at and make a conscious decision about. I hope that those around me notice that I have tried in the years past, and I am a much happier person because of it. Sadly, a nasty comment still escapes my mouth from time to time. All of you should find comfort in knowing that with my anxiety, I obsess over the comment for days at a time, even weeks. And, whenever a memory is sparked, I still think about things I said almost 20 years ago and die a little. But, I am working on it and so can everyone.

Therefore, this is my disclaimer.

If you are anti-medication…

If you hate listening to people talk about negative body image…

If you don’t completely flip out on your children and then lie in bed at night crying about how you are screwing them up…

If you think that stay-at-home mothers are lazy…

If you think that doing a home renovation, while trying to raise three children is taking on too much…

If you think I’m too whiny and complainy…

If you think I am at all being dishonest or putting on a show for the internet…

If you think I am just seeking attention…

If you think that I am making poor decisions as a mom…

If you think that I am not seriously trying, I mean really trying…

Then, close this page. I don’t want or need those kinds of attitudes here. Negative people drain me, and bring out the worst in me. I hate it and always feel like garbage after being around them.

I expect to get a lot of reactions similar to, “Who cares what other people think?! Just write and screw everyone else.”

While those are not untrue statements, I think we all know it isn’t that easy. I am about 50% “I care what others think” and about 50% “IDGAF,” and, as we all know, 100% anxious about both emotions.

In summation, I am gonna open up my brain and let things flow. I don’t want to preface every single post with how neurotic I am, and state that I am aware of my privileges and blessings. I know. Seriously, I do. But, I still have stress and sadness, and very obviously, several insecurities. I believe that many others share in my feelings. I think it is okay to talk about it. To some people, it may seem silly; but, to others, it feels like the weight of the world. We are never alone in our thoughts. Not one single person is alone with their thoughts; I promise you, there are others thinking the same way – no matter how ridiculous or neurotic, or even terrible, those thoughts are.

Take care, and I hope to post again soon.

Type A, for Anxious

2018-11-06T20:09:00.000-06:00

Let’s talk about something…

As I’ve mentioned before, I am a Type A person. I have a Type A personality - To. The. Core.

Most of the time, I speak those words with confidence and pride. It is directly related to my organization, problem-solving, and planning skills. I feel like it allows me to simplify things – processes, plans, even thoughts. I believe it pushes me to be more assertive, and passionate, and strong-willed. It’s what makes me chant, “Girls!” right along with Beyoncé, when she asks, “Who run the world?”

But, medically speaking, a Type A person is not the most desirable of personalities. We are uptight and particular. Things, like straying from our plans or outlines, can upset us - physically. We get stressed easily and wear it longer. We have high blood pressure and a prevalence of heart issues. We are more prone to anxiety disorders, and thank God we find people to put up with us…

Our laid-back counterparts, with Type B personalities, live much longer. They can go with the flow and let things roll off their backs. They have simply mastered the “subtle art of not giving a f*ck.” In so many ways, I am envious. I want to let go of things. I want Heath to put a cup on the back of the sink and for my brain to tell me, “that’s alright; it’s no big deal.” Instead, I have a little itch in the back of my mind that continues, until I move that stupid cup. Ugh…

The particularity was certainly something that I was gifted by my father. I once made fun of how he stacked the mail, next to the toaster, biggest envelopes on bottom and smallest on top. Or, how he would neatly fold his paper towel, to set underneath his cup of iced water. Or, how all the items in the center compartment of his truck have a place, and are not to be touched. Today, that is me. And, thankfully, over time, I have watched some of my father’s particularities fade; there is hope for me yet!

Nevertheless, this personality of mine has always made me a bit, what I lovingly call, “crazy.” I assess things, I over-think, and I base my decisions off all of these emotions. This has made me a bit overwhelming, for lack of a better word, in the past. As you might remember from previous ramblings of mine, I have frequently obsessed about being away from my kids, the risks of SIDS, and many other things. I would dump those concerns on anyone with ears who made eye contact with me. Spewing my apprehensions made me feel comforted and more in control. That was really what my obsession was about – having control. Kids seemed to take that concept away from me. Once you have children, you quickly learn how not in control you are. You think things will go a certain way, and HA! Yeah….no, kids have their own agendas. And, ultimately, God runs the show.

For several years, I tried to explain to Heath how anxious I could get, over seemingly not very big things. I mean, everyone around me was telling me that I was over-thinking. I would agree, but couldn’t stop.

“I’m just an uptight person.”

“It isn’t hurting anyone, by taking extra precautions.”

“I just get nervous.”

“I can keep it under control.”

"I can control it."

I seriously could control it, for several years. That is, until I couldn’t.

Almost two years ago, we made a very impulsive decision to buy a new home. We walked into a home, not planning on buying it, and then made an offer on it just three days later. The whole thing was a whirlwind, and so very much not like me. Many nights, I cried, thinking we made a huge mistake. We had three kids, and then we added another mortgage. We spent about six months showing our previous home. That meant, to this Type A woman, I spent six months cleaning the house like a crazy person, limiting the kids’ activities, and keeping them contained to particular rooms. We simplified, and organized, and planned for our uncertain future. And, I cried. I cried a lot. Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. I was, to put it bluntly, “freaking out.” I like plans. I like knowing what the next step is. I like familiarity. The lack of control was draining me. Several evenings I would sneak out of bed, go to the living room, do fire-breaths, write in a journal, and cry. I tried so hard to control it. If I could just have a good cry, I would be fine the next day.

One particular night, I was sitting on the couch, writing in my journal about my neurosis. I had tears streaming down my face. I was just…worrying…about nothing, and everything. I didn’t know what to think about our future. I was overwhelmed, and stressed, and tired. Heath came out from the bedroom and saw me. I tried to dismiss him, telling him that I was just a bit overwhelmed.

This was the first time that Heath suggested that I talk to my doctor.

“I can control it,” I told him. “I’m fine.”

More months passed by. We sold our home, and decided to move into the fixer-upper that we bought. When I say fixer-upper, I can’t even begin to explain to you what that meant. We set up a temporary living situation in the lower-level of the home, with a very make-shift, but functioning kitchen. The upstairs living area, we gutted down to the studs. The environment was unorganized, hectic, and…made me crazy. I hated living in such an unorganized mess. Even better, I work part-time from home, so I got to be in this mess all day, every day – just looking around at all the things that needed to be done.

Within all of this, my brain decided to focus my worry, anxiety, and apprehensions on the safety of the kids. I mostly blame it on the unfamiliarity of the house, the walls, the layout – it didn’t feel like “home.” I still believe I have a somewhat rational fear for the safety of my kids. I mean, what mom doesn’t worry about her children constantly? But, it got to be too much. I started obsessing over it. I tried to control it. I tried to vent my way through it. One morning, I couldn’t stop my thoughts, and I actually became physically ill, worrying about the kids. Just worrying…

I couldn’t control it after all...

I called Heath and told him, “I need to talk to Dr. B.”

I imagine he was silently praising the Lord, thankful that I finally swallowed my pride.

When the words poured from my mouth, and into Dr. B’s ears, she immediately responded with, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you talked to me about this.” Unlike me, she wasn’t dismissing all of my rants. She was taking note, knowing that one day I would be ready for, well, help.

I was prescribed anxiety medicine. I was told that it may just be this season of my life, and I may find a time in my life that I can stop taking it – once again being able to control my thoughts a bit. But, for now, why fight it? Why suffer? Why cry my eyes out with worry?

So, I left the doctor’s office to go pick up my prescription. I was, ironically, anxious. Ridiculous, right? I called Heath, doing what you ask? Crying. Of course, I was. I’m going to be on meds. I was going to be taking a pill daily. There would be side-effects. What if they changed me? What if I could never go back off of them? What if? What if? What if?

I drove right passed the pharmacy that evening and didn’t fill my prescription.

The next day, I called the doctor’s office, basically asking the nurse to talk me into taking the medicine. And, she did. I went and bought them, and took them, and prayed.

Then…I felt better. I felt so much better. I didn’t realize how “out of hand” it had gotten, until I was no longer dealing with it. That was when I decided that I wanted to talk to my family about it. It wasn’t until after I spoke about my experiences that I found out - both sides of my family have a history of anxiety. One family member, never really knew why she had anxiety and fought it her whole life (back in the “olden days,” before we understood). It made me sad.

So, I started talking about it to everyone who was willing to listen.

I once shied away from the topic, or felt the need to justify it. I know how important mental health is (obviously! Psych background!). But, having to be on this side of it, when you feel like the spotlight is on you, is not as easy as it is taught. Nevertheless, as time goes on, I become more confident in myself. I feel this weird sense of responsibility to talk about my anxiety. I hope I can make others feel more comfortable with their own struggles, and perhaps encourage them to talk to their doctor. It is not uncommon. It is not weird. It isn’t something that we all need to whisper about behind closed doors.

I know, for some, me talking about this makes them feel uncomfortable. Sorry, but really…I’m not sorry. This is the reality for some of us – more of us, I think, than you realize.

I wanted to tell you all, because if you want to know much more about my journey in this life, you have to know this integral part of who I am.

I have anxiety. And, I take medicine for it. And, that is okay.

Thank You, Husband

2018-10-26T13:22:00.002-05:00

Today is Heath's birthday.

If he ever has a hard time getting older, he doesn't let on much. He has this amazingly optimistic outlook on life, more often than not. He told me that he is just thankful to be here another birthday and that he doesn't want a thing to celebrate it. Well, I do have a surprise for him, that I won't spoil here. However, I think one of the most important things I can do for him is to tell him that I love him, and "Thank you!"

Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. Heath does so much for me and is such a part of me that I honestly forget that he is another person sometimes. I sometimes think of him as just an extension of me. He is just always there, and I know how he thinks and feels (usually), without him even having to tell me. We truly grew up together - forming our personalities, values, morals, etc., all along side each other. He is my confidant, and the person I pick my zits in front of, who sees me without makeup and without a bra - standing! (Yes, it's a big deal to me, because these babies are sad, sad, sad...)

I often stumble into the bathroom after a hard nights sleep, wiping the drool off my cheek, and leaving the door wide open to pee. When I finally catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, I wonder why Heath isn't half-way to Mexico, to find himself some hot seniorita. Instead, he is stuck with me. In fact, he chooses to be with me. I don't mean to be self-deprecating; but, I think several of us wonder how our families put up with us most of the time.

Heath truly puts me and the kids above himself. It is an envious trait. He rarely does anything selfish, and I mean that. If he does, you can guarantee that it was unintentional. Every morning he thinks about what he can do to make all of us happy, healthy, and feel loved. It makes him a wonderful husband and father. He is truly one of the best dads out there; fight me on it.

Now, I may suck at apologizing. I really do. But, I say "thank you" a lot. I think I say it so much that it has started to lose its value. Just yesterday, Henry and I decided to go get chips and guacamole from the local Mexican food place. I sent Heath a photo of Henry and later called him to tell him, "Thank you." You see, Heath is in the middle of a very stressful season at work. This past couple of weeks have been the most stressful and exhausting for him at this company. We have all been a bit grumpier, sleepier, and snappier. So, for me to be able to stay at home with Henry, and even go out for chips and guacamole in the middle of the afternoon, could easily make Heath envious, or even bitter. I am sure that he was a bit envious, I mean he is only human; but, his only comment was, "I'm glad that you guys are able to go do stuff like that."

I truly owe my happiness to him.

Me staying at home and teaching online part-time - that was all a very big decision for us to make as a family. It was a decision that I struggled with and will probably address more as time goes on. But, I never take a second of it for granted. In the past three years, I am happier than I ever have been in my adult life. I know that it is because Heath has helped me make several of my dreams come true.

So, Heath, thank you for putting up with me. With us. With my love for dogs, and for not taking my shoes off when I come in the house. And, thank you for putting up with my love for cheese on all of our meals, and the dollars I spend on coffee creamer. Thank you for letting me sleep in on the weekend, even if it is only for a couple of hours (wink). Thank you for cleaning the hair balls out of the shower drain, and telling me that I look beautiful when my eczema flairs up. Thank you for accepting my mom-bod, and for letting me be the most uptight person you know. Thank you for so, so much.

I love you. Thank you for choosing me.

Stressing for the Sake of Kids

2018-10-23T12:31:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time I had one child in elementary, one in preschool, and one that was lovingly attached to my leg most days. I got up in the morning, barely put myself together, got the two older ones around, and maybe found a pair of Uggs to walk to the garage and get into the van. I buckled the youngest one in, who may or may not have been in his pajamas still, from the night before. At our school drop off, we were impressing no one.

During that time in my life, we also lived in a home that was a bit outdated and in need of a Johanna Gaines-type overhaul, but was completely maintenance free. It was new enough to be clean and nice; but old enough to have peach grout and honey oak everything. I had done all that I felt I could with that home, and cleaned almost daily. Also, I was not involved on any local Boards or teaching online yet. So, my cleaning schedule was fairly easy to maintain. And, yes, I had a cleaning schedule... (I heart organization.)

Do you have a clear photo in your mind of what my days were like? I actually had plenty of time to do things. Time to enjoy my kids before they were involved with numerous things themselves.

So, when Red Ribbon Week came around back then, and the school released the themes of each day, we went all out. We busted out the markers, old t-shirts, tulle, ribbons, and glue gun, and we made costumes. I remember that Lucy loved it and even told me on one such day, "Today is going to be epic." Whew! What expectations, right? When is the last time you got your hair done and that was enough to make the rest of the day "epic?" It meant a lot to her.

Fast forward to now. I am teaching three courses online, involved with one Board officially, one unofficially, helping out with the kids' activities, and am in the middle of a complete home renovation (different house, which we took down to the studs). I'm not saying that I am any busier than any other Mom. I am probably less so than most. Nevertheless, compared to two years ago, I am swamped.

We received the Red Ribbon Week schedule again this year. They had cut down on theme days; I believe it to be the voice of parents who implemented such a change. Only three days this time, and they were fairly simple (or so it would seem).

Today, Tuesday, was superhero day. I am sure this day was chosen as an easy option, as most kids have superhero gear already. But, sadly, we do not. Heath and I liked the Batman movies when we were kids, and who didn't love Captain Planet, etc.?! But, we have not gotten much into the Marvel comic characters or superheros, as adults. We saw Deadpool and that's about it... Naturally, this translates to our children and they do not watch much of that stuff or have clothing representative of it either. That meant, to participate, I would have to be creative. Ugh! I love being crafty...when I have time. But, last night, was a busy night. I had a board meeting, and Lucy and I had practice. I still needed to complete a few items for the courses that I am teaching, and write a letter for another Board. It was a chaotic Monday, whether typical or not.

So, when Lucy asked about the "Superhero outfits" at approximately 9 PM, I didn't know what to say really. I wanted to say, "Nah, we aren't going to do it." It wasn't even that I had these spectacular ideas and didn't have the energy to execute them. I really didn't have a clue how I could "create" superheros from literally nothing. Cut t-shirts into capes? Glue an emblem on the front of an old shirt? No idea.

I did what any mom would do; I dismissed Lucy, told her to get to bed, and finished my to-do list with multiple huffs and swigs of caffeine. It wasn't until I poured myself into bed at midnight that I thought, "What am I going to do about super-hero day tomorrow?" I was kind of irritated with my younger self, for setting the bar so high, dammit. But, the kids loved it and I knew that I simply couldn't tell them to forget about it. Lucy would undoubtedly tell me that she was "the only one who wasn't dressed up." I know that it wouldn't be true, but the guilt would feel like it was.

I quickly searched Pinterest for a few ideas, came up with some possibilities and prayed (not literally) that I could find everything I needed in the morning. Zzzzz.....

When my alarm went off this morning, I wanted to hit snooze. I am a big fan of the snooze button. I start my alarm almost an hour before I need to get up, just so I can hit snooze multiple times (about six times, actually). The only thing that got me out of bed was Red Ribbon Week, Superhero Day...

Thankfully I found a Batman shirt that my mom bought Henry, and a mask that my sister bought him. Typical boy - he was set. Easy peasy. Then, the girls...By some miracle from God, they each had black pants, black shirts, and black shoes that FIT and were CLEAN. Hallelujah! I quickly threw on some cat ears for Olive, a random blue cape for Lucy, and we were well on our way to Cat Woman and a female Batman. Olive had no clue who Cat Woman was, but went along with it, as I knew she would.

After searching for face paint, I came up with just one little black pen. It had to work. I drew masks on the girls and held my breath, while they stood in front of the mirror.

"I love it," they said. And, I knew my status as "Awesome Momma" was safe.

I somehow managed to be successful today, with Red Ribbon Week - theme day number 1. But, it was not without shortness, and complaining, and irritation, and telling Olive the same thing five times. Or, saying, "Hold still!" to Lucy enough times to make me blue in the face. It was accompanied by "hurry up"s and "we are gonna be late!"s. It was a very grumpy, rushed, stressful morning.

I sit back now and wonder. Will they remember the "awesome" costumes and face paint that Momma helped them with for school? Or, will they remember that Momma was a freakin' psycho this morning, who wouldn't stop rolling her eyes, huffing, and asking, "Why aren't you doing what I said?!"

Of course, in those moments, we think the important thing is the day. The task at hand. If we can just get to school on time, dressed up, I will be successful. But, is that true? If I am a complete asshole in the process, is it really being successful? And, successful at what exactly? I'm praying that the joy of what today brings will erase the memories of their stressed out, jerk-of-a-Momma.

It's funny, right? You think you are doing something great for your kids, but in the process are not being a great example... I believe we do that a lot as parents. We stress out trying to create these amazing memories for our kids; but, we often run the risk of their memories being about our stress instead. Aren't several of your own memories about your parents, just them being completely fed up with you and your siblings on trips and vacations? Yeah. They were just trying to do something nice for us and it was incredibly stressful.

Tomorrow's theme is "orange day."

Friday is "red day."

I think I can handle those...

Own Worst Enemy

2018-10-18T09:35:00.000-05:00

Lucy has been fully immersed into math this year. She has optional math homework almost every night. And, of course, her mean mother makes her actually do it. She isn't thankful; but, I hope to someday be the very emotional center of a 'thank you speech,' given in front of a very large crowd.

First, let me say this, I feel like the way we did math in the 90s was so much easier. But, that is just me talking...I still try to go through the homework with her, following the instructions. Right now, I am trying to impress upon Lucy the importance of reading, understanding, and following the directions. Personally, I believe that will help her more in life than some of the lessons themselves. She has been doing subtraction, where you draw pictures of the number. For example, if you have 374, you would draw three cubes that represent 100 blocks each, seven columns that represent ten blocks each, and four single blocks. Then, you cross out numbers and borrow from the others to cover the "overage," etc. I don't recall doing it in elementary.

Here is the thing...Lucy knows how to subtract. She knows just "normal" subtraction. But, we are following directions. So, she is trying to draw these pictures below her math problems, trying to cross them out, and keep track of all the little cubes, columns, and dots. She ended up having such sloppy drawings that she was getting the problems wrong. She became very frustrated, knowing that they were wrong (since she knows how to get the answer the usual way). I kept telling her to write more neatly and erase her lines all the way, to not confuse herself. Finally, after trying to calm her down, I said, "You are your own worst enemy." If she took her time, she would have no problem. I knew she could do it.

Later on, I realized that I am probably my own worst enemy as well. Aren't we all? I mean, really?

Most of the time, I like to blame "society." It's an easy scapegoat. Society makes us feel ugly, fat, less worthy, like we are failing, like we aren't doing enough, and so on. I could literally write an entire blog post about how society makes me feel. But, I'm reminded again that I am in control of my own feelings. Was it Eleanor Roosevelt who said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent"?

I came to this conclusion while...what else? Mommin.

Heath ended up having an impromptu board meeting last night, and it ended up going much later than we all expected. It is hard to describe the frustration I get when I have a clear plan in my mind of how things are gonna work and then things change without me knowing. It is the dumbest, most anal thing. But, I am so incredibly uptight, it makes me ca-razy! Type A to the core. So, I had to clean up supper, keep the kids entertained for a while, bathe the kids, do the bedtime routine, etc. by myself. It's not that big of a deal, except 1) I hadn't planned on it and was not mentally prepared to do so, and 2) the kids were being awful!

You know what I mean when I say the kids were being awful. For us, it is usually Thursdays. It is like the kids are finally all worn out from the week and decide to clog their ears with metaphorical cotton balls, hit each other with anything within arms reach, and cry if you even look at them wrong. But, instead, the kids chose last night to do this. It was one of those nights where you empathize with the alcoholic, stay-at-home mothers of the 60s. You know what I mean?

I was being so hard on myself about it all. I was trying to do something as a family. I was forcing it; but, the kids wouldn't stop fighting. And, Olive wouldn't clean up the living room, after emptying the toy bin. And, Lucy wouldn't put her shoes away, and Henry wouldn't stop picking on the dogs. I was at my wit's end. I thought, " Wait a minute...I'm my own worst enemy too."

Maybe tonight we don't do something as a family. So, I split the kids up and made them go to different rooms. And, I said, forget it with Olive's toys; I am literally looking at them right now as I type this. But, I will have her clean them up after school, when she is in a better, more agreeable mood (and I am too!). And, I put the dogs in their kennels to just change Henry's focus.

I think we get wrapped up in these ideas of how things are "supposed" to go. I know that I do. I have these ideas in my mind about spending time together and making the kids get along, and limiting screen time. But, just as my kids choose to completely lose their minds one night a week, I will just plant their butts in front of YouTube videos and grab myself a little bit of sanity. Why do we continue to push our own agenda, when it clearly isn't working out? Why do I continue to push my own agenda that I designed around societies "image" of how an evening at home is supposed to look?

We are our own worst enemies.

For me, I just have to remind myself that some days the fight is not worth it. It doesn't have to be every day. But, some days, we all just need a day to throw our arms in the air and say,
"whatever..."

I Just Can't...

2018-10-17T14:35:00.002-05:00

I just can't give up my "old blog."

Some could say that I am sentimental. In fact, I am very sentimental. I have a real interest in history, and particularly my own family history. I guess that is what inspired me to start a blog in the first place. With that being said, I am a bit of a...hoarder, for lack of a better word. I keep stuff. I consider them to be keepsakes. Some day, someone may just find the same emotional value in them, as I. Until then, I will keep them as safe as I can.

My blog is no exception.

I had planned on just storing my old blog, and creating a new one on the more trendy blogging site, WordPress. But, it took me all of one week to realize that I wanted my previous blog to continue. I didn't want to just swipe it clean, like it didn't happen or exist. It did.

I have spent the last week editing my previous blog (I Love Lucy Jean) for public viewing. It took me so long because I sifted through over 300 posts, and got completely caught up in memories. Some posts make me shudder, while some still make me smile. Several things were clear to me: I was a new mother, clearly struggling with working full-time and having babies in Day Care. I was very much trying to "figure out motherhood" (ha - still trying!). And, while I have perhaps become a little more articulate, I still have a problem with purging all of my emotions.

So, here we are - on the "old blog." If you are new here, you will see that my design is very inconsistent. Its a bit old and a bit new. I am in the process of updating it. I plan to get my geeky husband involved; he is gonna be thrilled! My header, while cute, isn't relevant any more, which makes me sad. I hope to update it in the coming days/weeks/months. Who really knows?

I will keep the previous title as well, "I Love Lucy Jean." After I had Olive, I had planned to rename it, "Olive Lucy Jean." Get it? Ah-mazing. I was still considering, "Olive Lucy and Henry." But, the lack of punctuation, which seems to be needed, and the kids being listed out of birth order itches that tiny little bit of particularity in my brain.

On another note, I have had several people ask me about subscribing to my blogs. It seriously warms my heart that so many people actually care what I have to say. You guys, I sure love having you in my life. My followers have always been so supportive and encouraging, when I truly needed it most (motherhood, loss, etc.). Therefore, I plan to get my emailing service set-up again, to automatically email my blog posts, as I did before. Please be patient and I will get the info. out soon. I will also continue to post links to my blog on my Facebook page; although, Facebook and I have a very complicated relationship...

It was good to have you visit once again. Please take a look around. It's crazy to read posts from my 23-27 year old self; it seems like forever ago. Just consider the date when reading and I hope you have a good day!

*Also, if you are one of my Facebook friends and stumble across some type of personal information (our last name, my college name, or my hometown info., etc.), please let me know. I am trying to remove that type of specificity from the blog. Thanks!

Bloggin' Again

2018-10-17T14:07:00.001-05:00

Once upon a time, I had a blog. In fact, I had a blog with over 350 stories that abruptly ended in February of 2014. This was after I spewed some random "advice" about mothering two children, while working full-time and going to graduate school. The idea kind of makes me chuckle now. Not only has our family, our home, and my employment changed, but I am truly a different person as well. So, here we are in the changes, with many more to come, I'm sure. I'm 32 years into this life, and you are welcome to tag along while I narrate the days, months, and (God-willing) the years to come.

Ironically, my last post was about the inability to "do it all," and it was the last thing I wrote and published. Obviously, my blog was one of the things I gave up. Isn't that the way it goes? When you are mommin', something for yourself is always the first to go. I really did love it. I miss it - which, leads me back here.

I think about writing a lot. Our changes have resulted in me being in my own head for several hours a day. I have little interaction with adults, unless I seek it out or you count social media "likes" as interactions. That means that I have random thoughts just bouncing around my mind all day, every day - some are worth saying aloud, and many are not. Nevertheless, I miss "talking." I miss journaling, and archiving. I miss the deep thought, and the laughs. I miss writing a blog.

Please understand that a new blog does not mean that I suddenly have a whole bunch of time on my hands. It doesn't, and I'm not sure how much of a commitment I can make to it yet. As I type this, I am avoiding three "to-do" list items, sitting directly in front of me. But, I believe in balance more than ever these days. This, this blog, it is for me. And, someday, maybe it will be for my kids. Either way, as wife, a mom, and a decent person living in today's society, I am still struggling, still contemplating, and still almost bang my head against the wall daily.

I have decided to post this blog publicly, unlike my previous blog that was marked as private for the last year or so. With this change, I will not likely post my children's photos or personal information/locations, etc. anymore. But, I hope you will still come by for visits, once I start writing more often.

Hello again, everyone. I hope to write you again soon.

Responsibility Advice

2014-02-10T10:22:00.000-06:00

I recently had a mother of one contact me about going to grad-school and parenting. She wanted to know "how I do it." I laughed. Who the hell am I to be giving any advice? For all she knows I go home, starve the girls, and lock them in their rooms...but, I was humbled. I didn't really know what to say. I let the email sit in my inbox for a couple of days before replying. When I did reply, this is what I said...

---------------------------

It is great to hear from you. And, when it comes to being a multi-tasking mom, I seriously hear you! I had such a hard time transitioning to my "new life" and that was back when I wasn't going to school. So, having a second baby and then applying to Grad School was basically terrifying. I completely understand your concern! I do have some advice, but I want to make sure I am completely clear - I still fail. I try. I try to be the best at everything that I can. But, some days the house is a complete wreck. Some days I order a pizza and don't cook supper. Some days I am so stressed to the max that I get short with Lucy and Olive, cry in the corner, and then beg for forgiveness. It is tough. I just don't think that we can be "the best" at it all. I've tried several times and I have failed every single time. Just when I think I am getting into the swing of things, I realize that my relationship with Heath is suffering, or my friendships. Or, that I can't find time to just sleep, or think, or be by myself for two seconds!

I digress...

So, here is my advice and feel free to ignore me.

1) Forget your life pre-baby
I think my greatest milestone as a new mom was finally letting go of my "old life." I had a hard time. I kept thinking that everything was going to be the same, just with a baby. It literally took me about 2.5 years to figure this out. Things will have to be adjusted and concessions will be made.

2) Lean on your hubby
Heath is fantastic. But, I like to take a little bit of credit for getting him there. :) I am always an open book with him. I tell him when I am reaching my limit. He has really helped me pick up the slack and has come to know what really bothers me. I can't stand dishes in the sink; but, dust can wait until I have time...That kind of stuff. He has learned that there will be concessions when it comes to housework. So, a few rooms in our house (our bedroom and the toy room) will never be clean. We have finally come to terms with this.

3) Schedule "you" time
When I was a new mom I felt like if I wasn't spending every second of my free-time with Lucy, then I was a bad mother. I was so upset that I was already missing out on so much during the day, with her at daycare. But, I soon realized that I was having major burnout. I would try to do too much and then get short with Lucy. I was with her, but the shared time wasn't good. So, I schedule homework days, or homework nights, or even days away. Don't ever feel guilty for doing this - ever. It's not the quantity of time, it is the quality of time.

4) Schedule "us" time
Seriously, along with the previous one, take time to spend with your hubby. It is amazing how silly "the dishes" or "taking out the trash" can seem when you both are in good graces. But, if you are both stressed, you will end up bickering about something silly, something not even worth fighting about. So, once a week, if possible, take a night to go out, or order a movie, or something with just the two of you. It will make the household chores seem like less of a priority, which really, aren't they?

5) Remember this: When you die, no one will remember you for how clean your house was
You will be remembered as a wife, a mom, and so on. I learned this from my Uncle Matt and it is so true! Pick your battles and try to remember what really matters.

6) Indulge

Get that coffee from Starbucks. Buy those earrings. Every once in a while, we all need something to keep our sanity. Mine is the sweet, sweet flavors of a large diet-coke with vanilla from Sonic. :) It fuels me to get homework done. Seriously.

7) June Cleaver doesn't exist!

I kept thinking I should be able to do it all. But, to be honest, I don't think it is possible. I seriously don't. Something has GOT to give. Mine is the housework and sleep. Yes - I still get overwhelmed with it and hate when people come over and things aren't perfect. But, I have just learned what really gets under my skin and what doesn't, and prioritize accordingly. During the week, no housework gets done. I cook supper, do dishes, and try to pick-up the girls' rooms. The weekend is for housework and maybe not all of it. These Pinterest and Blogging moms are struggling too, they just aren't as honest (or they don't work full-time, or go to school). Sleep? Well, I love it so much. I catch up on the weekends or take naps with the girls. :)

9) Also, remember this: You are not alone.

And, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Before we know it, our kids will be big and we won't know what to do with ourselves.

10) Having two is not much more work than one, as long as your husband helps out. Keep that in mind for future babies. :) The biggest obstacle is going back to those toddler days, where you can't take them anywhere for long periods of time (grocery shopping sucks, etc.).

I hope I helped in some way. Those are the things getting me by. But, my classes started up again this week and I'm already stressing. That's okay; I will just pick up my Sonic drink on the way home and wait until the girls go to sleep until I start homework.

Heath is also fantastic. He really is. I could never do any of this without him. He is a great husband and father. He supports me emotionally and he supports my education. He picks up so much of my slack. I am forever grateful for him. I hope that everyone has that type of support!

You will do great. If not, you will figure it out. I promise. I am always here to listen.

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Any advice that any other parents would give to a new mother, trying to take on other responsibilities? Besides calling them crazy... :)

Lucy-isms: Big Girl Edition

2014-01-13T16:58:00.004-06:00

Lucy is such a big girl! Time is flying and it makes me sad. But, that is why I cherish the conversations that I have with her while she is still 3 years old (for only about a month more). Here is a conversation we had before bedtime...

"Momma, is God proud of us?"

"I'm sure he is, if we are nice and caring to others."

"I will see God in Heaven. I will see Chico too. He will lick, lick my face. I will be all swobbery. He be happy to see me."

(Laughing) "Yes. He will be! But, that won't happen until you are really, really old."

"Old like you Momma?"

(Laughing) "No. Hopefully, much older!"

"Old like Daddy?"

"No, I hope and pray that you are old, and gray, and have lots of wrinkles."

"Am I going to be a giant or what?"

"No. You will stop growing. But, we continue to age. Our skin gets wrinkly and our hair turns gray. We get old."

"Hmmmm....I will get married and have grandchildren."

"Yes. I pray that you do get married, have children, and grandchildren."

"Momma, who will I marry?"

"We don't know. It may be someone you know, or it may be someone you haven't met yet."

"Ask me who I will marry..."

"Okay, who are you going to marry?"

"No. Ask me who!"

"Oh, will you marry Max?"

(Finger on her chin) "Hmmm.....maybe."

"Will you marry Bryson?"

"That's a good one, Momma! I pick that one."

She makes me laugh so much. I love our conversations. After that, she rolled over and asked me to turn out the light. :) I love that little girl so much.

The Mother & the Teacher

2014-01-08T11:31:00.000-06:00

The mother and the teacher. No, not the daughter. You see, Lucy is teaching me sometimes much, much more than I am teaching her. When you see yourself or hear yourself through your child's eyes, well...it is humbling, amazing, heart-warming, a bit terrifying, and sometimes seriously upsetting.

You know those typical stories of the parent who pushes their child to be like them or follow the path that they want? You know, Varsity Blues, Ice Princess, She's All That - that kind of stuff.

"I don't want your life." - Dawson Leary, or whatever his name was on Varsity Blues

or

"You can't quit. This is your dream!" - Mother
"No, mom. It's your dream." - Daughter

I watch those and think, "Pssshhhh...silly parents. Who is so blind that they push their kids like that?"

Well, I may not be that extreme. But, I do see myself pushing Lucy to do things a certain way, say things a certain way, and so on. Then, I am somehow brought back to reality....usually with a metaphorical punch to the gut that leaves me reeling.

What do you see when you look at this photo?

I imagine that most of you will note the pure pride and joy that is plastered across that beautiful face of Lucy's. She is so happy. I bet she really was! She loves crafts and especially painting. I even chuckle a bit when I think about that goofy grin of hers. But, when I see it, I am struck with guilt. My stomach does one of those flips and my heart sinks a bit. I feel a small failure pumping through my veins.

You see, Lucy brought this particular piece of art-work home with her. She was proud. I told her that I loved it; but, truly, I was a bit concerned. It was a blob of black on construction paper. It had bits of green and purple too. But, together, the three colors created a dark, border-line creepy picture. When I looked at it, I saw sadness. I acted happy for Lucy, and well, I really was proud that she painted it herself. I couldn't help myself though; I told her that next time she could use happy colors, like yellow or red - bright and cheery. She completely shrugged me off...like the complete jerk that I was. Good for her.

Then, about a week later, this picture was posted on her preschool's Facebook page. I am a jerk. Look at the colors she had to work with...green, black, purple, and orange. No yellow. No red. I sunk into the awful lesson that I had just learned. I had judged. I had judged my own child. Here I am, thinking that she has some type of deep-seated sadness that came out through 10 minutes of painting time. But, does that child look sad to you? She had no other color options. I bet she didn't even mind. She did what she could, with what she had. Shame on me for assuming anything else...

Today I looked at Lucy and realized that she is growing so fast. There are so many things that I was not and am not prepared for as a parent - things I didn't even think about! But, I am learning and trying my best. I guess that is all we can do...

I forgave myself. The guilt remains; but, I'm okay with that. It's a good reminder...

Lesson learned.
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Whomp, whomp. I know. Sorry to be a downer. I think it is a nice reminder to take things lightly. But, most importantly, I want the girls to know that I recognize that I am making mistakes. I get it. They will also make parenting mistakes. It's inevitable to fail in life in multiple ways. The most important thing is to recognize it, learn from it, and move forward. :)

I will try to continue with the blog posts as much as possible. Occasional posts are better than none, right? My thoughts exactly. We are doing better. I still have my sad days. I have a lot of stressful days (grad school). Overall, though, we are doing well. We are happy and healthy and I couldn't ask for anything more. Welcome 2014! I hope you all have a wonderful year, filled with love and happiness!

Update of Us

2013-11-14T13:36:00.000-06:00

Well, how have you all been? It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, here I am. Still trucking along with at least one blog post a month...I hope I haven't completely abandoned all of my readers....I still continue to strive for more posts per month, but I am also trying to be realistic. I'm struggling.

Do you remember how I used to whine and complain that I didn't have enough time? Time for being a mom, wife, full-time employee, homemaker, etc? Yeah, well, what made me think adding "student" to that list of roles would be seamless? It's not! I spend approximately 1 or 2 hours on my homework at least 5 nights a week. Now, I have a big project coming up, that is due on December 5th.That is truly my light at the end of this course tunnel. I think after that, I will be able to breathe again...at least until January when courses start again. Wish me luck!

I guess I should give you some other updates on our life, before I just jump right back into the swing of things. Last time you heard from me, besides the Halloween on TV schedule, I still had a pretty "open wound," from miscarrying. I can now say that I grieved properly and can now talk about it without losing myself. To be honest, it all just kind of seems like a dream, like it didn't really happen. I am still having minor issues in the "women's health" department, and will be going to give another blood sample later today; but, otherwise, I feel like this chapter is coming to a close. The miscarrying was awful. I had a couple of really, really hard days. If you follow this group on Facebook, you probably already knew that. But, with grieving comes comfort.

Through the awfulness of miscarrying, I thanked God. I thanked him for sending us to the hospital that day for the ultrasound. I am so thankful I found out that way. I can't imagine finding out in any other way. Plus, we now have ultrasound pictures of our angel baby - something I will treasure always.

When it rains, it pours in our house for some reason. I will continue on my Debbie Downer discussion and tell you that just a few weeks ago we lost our sweet, Chico Bandido.

He was 9 (the same age as Co-Co, when we lost her). We found out that he had congestive heart failure and a few days later, he passed in his sleep. I am sad; but, he was an older dog, who lived a wonderful life that other dogs dream of. He was spoiled rotten! We miss him; yet, I know he is with Co-Co now and they are having a ball...or playing with a ball...or something like that. ;)

Halloween came and went, all in a complete blur. Now the other holidays are upon us. I am prepared to put this awful fall behind me and take a nosedive right into Thanksgiving, Black Friday, winter, and our beloved Christmas. Don't get me wrong, not all of this fall, thus far, was terrible. I had some great times. Perhaps I will go into those more sometime.

Lucy is growing like crazy and has become a little kid, rather than a toddler. :( Bummer. Olive, is not a baby anymore and is a toddler. Crazy how time flies. I'll share more about their crazy, nerd sister antics later. :)

Have a happy Thursday. I hope I didn't bum you out. That was not my intention. Before I could really move on, I needed to fill everyone in on the bad and the ugly...now onto the good!

Halloween TV Schedule 2013

2013-10-14T15:36:00.006-05:00

I didn't go as in depth as years past with my televisions schedule. To be honest, it took/takes a LOT of time that I just don't have right now. So, I only listed what I might watch or like. Sorry. But, I hope you like it anyway! :)

I also posted a calendar version of this schedule on my Facebook account, in the group, "I Love Lucy Jean." If you want the calendar file, just comment or message me with your email again and I will send the direct file for printing.

The color coding of this list is different than the calendar posted on Facebook. Here, the colors mean what demographic I think they would be most fit for.

Orange - Younger Childred
Green - Older Children
Purple -Young Adults and Older

Monday, October 14th
4 PM - Girl vs. Monster (Disney XD)
7:30 PM - Halloweentown (Disney)

Tuesday, October 15th
7:30 PM - Halloweentown 2: Kalabar's Revenge

Wednesday, October 16th
7 PM - The Lost Boys (VH1)
7:30 PM - Halloweentown High (Disney)

Thursday, October 17th
6 PM - Scooby Doo (ABC Family)
7:30 PM- Return to Halloweentown (Disney)
8 PM - Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed (ABC Family)

Friday, October 18th
4 PM - Batman (1989) (ABC Family)
4 PM - Phantom at the Megaplex (Disney XD)
7 PM - Batman Returns (ABC Family)

Saturday, October 19th
9:30 AM - Batman (1989) (ABC Family)
12:30 PM - Batman Returns (ABC Family)
12:30 PM - 7 PM - Halloweentown Marathon (Disney)
7 PM - Toy Story of Terror (ABC Family)
7:20 PM - Girl vs. Monster (Disney)
7:30 PM - Monsters, Inc. (ABC Family)

Sunday, October 20th
4:30 PM - Monsters, Inc. (ABC Family)
6:30 PM - Toy Story of Terror (ABC Family)
7 PM - The Addams Family (ABC Family)
9 PM - Addams Family Values (ABC Family)

Monday, October 21st
4 PM - Monsters, Inc. (Disney XD)
7 PM - Halloween (1978) (AMC)
7:30 PM - Twitches (Disney)

Tuesday, October 22nd
All Day Marathon - Pretty Little Liars (ABC Family)
7 PM - Pretty Little Liars (ABC Family)
7:30 PM - Twitches Too (Disney)
8 PM - Ravenswood (Series Premiere) (ABC Family)

Wednesday, October 23rd
4 PM - The Haunting Hour: Don't Think About It (Disney XD)
7:30 PM - The Little Vampire (Disney)
11 PM - Teen Witch (ABC Family)

Thursday, October 24th
4 PM - My Babysitter's a Vampire (Disney XD)
8 PM - Men in Black (ABC Family)
11 PM - Teen Wolf (ABC Family)

Friday, October 25th
4 PM - Scooby-Doo! The Mystery Begins (Cartoon Network)
6 PM - Death Becomes Her (ABC Family)
6:15 PM - The Exorcist (AMC)
7 PM - Toy Story of Terror! (Disney)
7:30 PM - Monsters, Inc. (Disney)
8 PM - Beetlejuice (ABC Family)
11 PM - Ghostbusters (Comedy Central)

Saturday, October 26th
8 AM - Monsters, Inc. (Disney)
8:30 AM - Teen Wolf (ABC Family)
9:13 AM - Ghostbusters II (Comedy Central)
10 AM - The Good Witch (HALMRK)
10:30 AM Teen Witch (ABC Family)
3 PM - Beetlejuice (ABC Family)
4:28 PM - Ghostbusters (Comedy Central)
5 PM - The Addams Family (ABC Family)
7 PM - Addams Family Values (ABC Family)
7 PM - The Amityville Horror (2005) (AMC)
9 PM - Hocus Pocus (ABC Family)

CHRISTMAS FEVER?
Sunday, October 27th at 8:13 AM, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (Comedy Central)

Sunday, October 27th
7 AM - Halloween Grinch (ABC Family)
7:30 PM - Smurfy Hollow (ABC Family)
8 AM - Scooby Doo (ABC Family)
10 AM - Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed (ABC Family)
10 AM - Scooby-Doo! Curse of the Lake Monster (Cartoon Network)
NOON - Monster House (ABC Family)
NOON - Scooby-Doo Halloween (Animated) (Cartoon Network)
1 PM - Spookley the Square Pumpkin (Cartoon Network)
2 PM - The Sixth Sense (FX)
4 PM - The Addams Family (ABC Family)
6 PM - Addams Family Values (ABC Family)
8 PM - Hocus Pocus (ABC Family)

Monday, October 28th
3:30 PM - Stephen King Movie Marathon (Spike)
4:30 PM - Monster House (ABC Family)
6:30 PM - Time Burton Movie Marathon (ABC Family)

Tuesday, October 29th
7:30 PM - My Babysitter's a Vampire (Disney)

Wednesday, October 30th
12:30 PM - Death Becomes Her (ABC Family)
7:30 PM - Girl vs. Monster (Disney)
11 PM - Death Becomes Her (ABC Family)

Thursday, October 31st - Happy Halloween!
2 PM - Scooby Doo (ABC Family)
4 PM - Halloween Episodes Marathon (Disney)
4 PM - Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed (ABC Family)
6 PM - The Addams Family (ABC Family)
8 PM - Addams Family Values (ABC Family)
11 PM - The Others (ABC Family)

Enjoy! :)

Explaining to Lucy

2013-09-19T10:27:00.005-05:00

I apologize for beating this horse. It is still weighing heavily on my heart. But, I am hopeful that one day we will find comfort, and perhaps add another beautiful baby to our family.

I did want to share a story with you all though. I am not sure what you think about this, or what I think about it. But, it strikes me as eerily comforting.

When we first told Lucy about the baby, she was excited. She had told us that Olive was a girl before we found out, and had been generally right about guessing genders of babies. So, we, of course, asked her what the baby's gender was. Her reply was, "A girl and a boy."

We obviously took this as twins. So, we would laugh. I would ask, "How many babies are in mommy's tummy?"

She insisted, "One."

But, she would always follow-up with, "Then, a boy."

We just shrugged her off as a three-year-old who was misunderstanding things. I asked her again a couple of days later. Same story.

"A girl, then a boy."

"One baby."

So, she was consistent. But, I just dropped it.

When we found out that our little one went to Heaven, I thought about Lucy's comments. I didn't know what to think about them.

The sad day then came that Lucy said something to me about the baby in my belly. I sat down with her and told her that mommy didn't have a baby in her tummy anymore and that the baby went to Heaven to be with Jesus.

"The baby went to Heaven? To be with Jesus?"

"Yes, hunny." I started to cry.

"Why are you crying, Momma?"

"It just makes me sad."

Then, she said something that reached my soul. I'll never forget it. She bowed her head down in sadness and asked me...

"Momma, the boy is coming now?"

I just hugged her and told her, "Someday, maybe."

I didn't know what to think or do. Could it be that Lucy knew? Could it be that she was to provide us with comfort? For some reason it does bring me comfort, like this was God's plan and he let Lucy in on the secret.

Just felt like sharing...

Numb & Grateful

2013-09-16T22:51:00.001-05:00

As I've mentioned in times of sadness, there seems to come a time where you are just numb. I think I am there. I try to talk myself out of reality. Sometimes I feel as if none of this ever happened. The last four weeks didn't really exist; it was a dream turned nightmare.

But, I know it is my reality. We did lose a baby. It happened. I want to forget. I want to remember. I am torn.

I am in a bit of a limbo right now. I still have not miscarried. So, all day I sit and analyze any pain that I feel in my abdomen. Unfortunately, at this point, I hope that it is my body finally starting this process. I want to get it over with. It is going to be tough. But, I want to get it over with...Then, there is this ridiculously optimistic and stupid part of me that says, "Maybe the tech was wrong. Maybe the baby is okay after all."

I know that isn't true. I can feel it. I don't feel pregnant. The symptoms have faded. I think I knew this before I went to the hospital. In retrospect, it makes sense. I never fathomed this though...

I still battle guilt, tremendous guilt. That seems to be the only time that I cry; when I think of something I said that was ungrateful. I complained that both of the girls' birthdays were on the 7th and this baby's wouldn't be. How ridiculous is that?! Or, when I was upset that I would be fat for a wedding in the spring. Selfish. I was so ungrateful. I have undoubtedly been taken back down to reality.

I do want to thank those of you who have reached out to me. I didn't realize that a few of my readers have also experienced this type of loss. Their words were very encouraging and I am seriously grateful that they shared their story with me. It made me feel like I was "normal." And, that what I was feeling was "normal."

It seems that so often we go through this type of pain in silence. If you are like me, it is easier to type to someone, because if you say it aloud, you will cry. That part makes me sad. So, to all of my readers, just know that I am here for you too.

As I wait, I hope you haven't stopped praying for us. I am afraid that one of the hardest parts still awaits me. Please also pray for Heath. He continues to be so strong for me and I am not sure he has had his breakdown moment. He was more excited than anyone about our surprise baby.

I sometimes feel like I let him down...the thought of this breaks my heart.

As I continue to grieve. I hope you don't mind if I bring up our angel baby now and again. I know many like to avoid the "awkward" topic. But, I've been told that there is no wrong way to grieve. Please support me in that. If I want to mention Baby #3, don't feel the need to change the topic or become silent. I want to remember this moment, when I leaned on God more than ever and asked him to speak to me.

Thank you again for your support, thoughts, personal stories, and prayers. I am so incredibly grateful, numb and grateful.

Loss

2013-09-15T00:12:00.004-05:00

I debated a few times whether to title this post "Loss" or "Lost."

I guess I should first tell you that this is not a fun story. It is in no way exciting or upbeat. Please do not expect it to be so.

A few weeks ago I was late. And, by late, you know what I mean. I haven't been keeping track of my cycle, so I wasn't exactly sure how late I was. But, Heath and I were fairly certain that there was no need to consider the alternative to having a period; because, we had been careful. As days passed, Heath finally woke me up in the middle of the night one early morning. He insisted that I take a pregnancy test the next morning. I agreed.

I woke up early the next morning and thought about what Heath had said. It got into my head and I couldn't get back to sleep. So, I hopped out of bed and took one. I was shocked. I have taken these many times before. I usually pee, wait, try to decide if a line is showing or not...not this time. As soon as the wetness hit that line, it immediately read positive. I was, well, shocked. I guess Heath and I hadn't been as careful as we thought.

I ran to the stairs and yelled at Heath. He said he just knew it; he was so excited. I was still shocked and well, overwhelmed. I am a planner. It was not in sync with my plan. I had just started graduate school. Olive wasn't even one year old yet. We didn't have a vehicle that could fit three car seats. All three of them would be in high school at one time. I was just overwhelmed.

Heath had a golf tournament that day. So, I was home alone. I literally just sat around all day, freaking out. My heart would race. I was so worried about being able to handle it all. I was afraid that people would call us crazy.

As time passed, we told more and more family and friends. I was excited. Babies are miracles and the best blessings! However, I was not at all prepared for the responsibility and was still worried about it. I kept telling myself that by April, we would be ready. Heath was so excited. I'll be honest; he didn't seem this excited with either of the girls. He just knew this one was a boy. Since it wasn't planned, it was so much more exciting to him. Since it wasn't planned, I was having a much harder time wrapping my brain around it.

I went to the doctor to have it confirmed. I had another freak out moment at the doctor's, when she told me congratulations. I just couldn't believe it was all real. Could I do this?

We weren't really sure when exactly I got pregnant. And, my last period was really light. So, Dr. B suggested that I get an ultrasound. Then, we could know how far along I was. I was excited at the chance of this. I had never had one this early. So, around, what I would guess was at 8 weeks or so, I went in with Heath for an ultrasound.

Checking in was normal. We joked around about twins and wondered if I could really be 12 weeks along or so. We guessed a due date of around April 25th.

"What pregnancy is this for you?"

"My third."

"Two live births?"

"Yes."

"Any miscarriages?"

"No."

We started with a normal ultrasound of my stomach. I had no idea what we were looking at. It was all blobs to me. I did see a blob once that I was guessing might be a little baby spec. But, the tech didn't say anything. She measured stuff. She looked at the colors, which if I recall correctly was blood flow. I felt really uneasy about her demeanor. She wasn't talking us through it at all. I was then asked to go to the restroom and wrap up in a sheet for an internal ultrasound. Once in the bathroom, I could hear her ask for someone else to come into the room.

I tried to talk myself through my uneasiness. I was being paranoid. You know me. I was always worried about this stuff. I came back out and another woman had joined us. They just stared at the screen. They didn't turn it toward us. They didn't say, "Here is your baby." Nothing. I tried to read their faces. It was just stone-cold silence.

I looked at Heath and mouthed, "Is everything okay?"

The tech caught me and asked if I was comfortable. I said, "Yes; I am just worried about all of this."

She didn't respond.

The other woman left the room.

I was fairly certain that I knew at that moment. This wasn't good.

The other woman came back into the silent room.

She asked if I was going to see Dr. B after the ultrasound. I was going to. She said that Dr. B wanted to talk to me about today's results.

I asked, "You can't tell me anything?"

The tech looked at me, curled her mouth downward and said, "We aren't picking up a heartbeat. There was a pregnancy. The baby is measuring 6 weeks and 4 days, but that is as far as this baby got."

I started to sob, hard.

Heath rubbed my arm. He was so strong for me. He kept telling me that everything was going to be okay.

They asked if we needed a moment and I just cried on Heath's shoulder. I had done this. I was overcome with guilt. I had worried about it too much. I had treated this baby like an inconvenience in "my planned out life." I had acted like it didn't fit into my story. The guilt came rushing over me. This was my fault.

They had asked if I wanted ultrasound pictures. I did. I got two pictures of our baby - Baby Christiansen #3. I had already started taking pregnancy photos and filling out a belly book. We had already made plans for this baby - the car seat, when to buy his or her crib, and so on. It wasn't something that we could just ignore and pretend didn't happen or exist.

I took my photos and a book they gave us, "Dealing with Miscarriage," and walked out into the hallway. I quickly tucked the purple book into my bag. I didn't want everyone to see the woman with the purple book and know what had happened.

We got to the car and cried some more. Heath told me that it wasn't my fault. He was just so incredibly strong for me. He kept it together for me and allowed me to sob on his shoulder uncontrollably. I really couldn't ask for a better husband or father for my children.

We finally met with Dr. B. She echoed Heath's comments to me. "This is not your fault. It is nothing you did."

She said I had a bleed. That is fairly common. But, it was too close to the baby and the baby wasn't able to develop. We didn't really ask questions at that point.

I felt so guilty. I had sat in her office less than a week before, crying because I was so overwhelmed. Now, I was sitting here, babyless. How ungrateful am I?! What a terrible person I was. I did want that baby! I did! I loved that baby. I prayed for it.

We discussed the actual miscarrying. I still haven't miscarried. I am carrying around our baby. I am still carrying it with me. The thought of this, just breaks my heart.

I chose to miscarry naturally if I could. I hear that it can be quite emotional and traumatic. I can't bear to think of it. I just want to get it over with and start to feel closure with this loss.

Right now though, I am lost. I don't really know how to move forward. I can't sit still for too long or I start to think about it. I get upset. As quickly as I knew this baby was here, it was gone.

I am just trying to keep busy in the meantime. Heath and I don't really know how to move forward while something like this is still looming. Please just pray for us. We need all the support we can get. Despite what Heath tells me, I still have moments of incredible guilt. How dare I question God's plan? But, again, this must have been his plan. I am still trying to figure out why we were to experience this. I hope he speaks to us soon.

Thank you for all of your prayers. We will make it through this. We are a strong family. Please, if you see me, do not ask me how I am doing. I may just break down into tears. I prefer not to do this in public. I hope that isn't a selfish request...

I hope I can feel "normal" again soon. Before now, I thought that miscarriages were commonplace. I felt sad for them, but I didn't realize how a loss such as this can make you feel so lost.

I debated sharing our story. I thought that it might help me in some way. I like to know that I have a support system out there, praying for us. I am also so forthcoming with you guys about my pregnancies and our life changes. I felt that I needed to share this too, in a way. I thought too that perhaps writing it down might make it feel a little more real to me...I don't know. I just don't know...

Graduate School

2013-08-06T14:08:00.002-05:00

Heath graduated last December, with his MBA. As soon as he had finished, we started really talking about me going back to school and getting my graduate degree. The plan was to wait until he was done, before I started. It was the best decision financially. Plus, I don't know if you noticed, but I was busy havin' babies...

If I'm being completely honest, I was a little scared to apply to graduate school. I had K-State picked out since I was 22 and hadn't applied. It was terrifying. What if I got rejected? I didn't think that my ego could bare a blow like that. Terrifying.

After making a zillion excuses, Heath and I talked myself into it.

I'm sure Heath hated me for those months prior. I was a mess. I would basically have a conversation with myself.

"Should I wait until the girls are older?
No. That is silly. There is no time like the present.
I mean, if I would have started two and a half years ago, I'd already be done!
It will be tough with the girls. But, Heath, you did it. I can do it too.
What if I fail? What if I struggle being a mom and a student?
Although, it is important to show the girls that school is a priority too."

This was the inner dialog escaping from my brain and blurting out my mouth.

Needless to say, after a $50 application fee, I was obligated to at least submit a Statement of Objectives, etc.

After several versions and editing sessions, it was ready to mail.

I hadn't told anyone but Heath that I was applying....well, and my references I guess. I was so terrified that I wouldn't get in. Then, I would have to tell everyone. I felt like I might be letting everyone down. I was told that the program was very small and only a small number got in.

Before I knew it, I saw the response from the Department of Psychology...my heart raced. Heath had told me over and over again that I was a "sure-thing." I let out a big breath and opened it...

The first line read, "I am pleased to inform you..."

That was all I needed. I don't think I have ever even read the letter in its entirety.

I was excited, proud, and still a bit scared of what I was committing to.The program is a Masters of Science in Industrial and Organizational Psychology (MIOP). If you aren't familiar, it is like Business and Psychology got together and had a baby. It is applying the scientific method to business processes, like training, evaluation, job analysis, selection, recruiting, etc.

The program is predominately online; however, it did require that I have a two-week residency on the campus. I remember thinking that the two-week residency was the downside of the program. I was wrong.

I kissed my babies, shed a few tears, and headed out. Heath came with me for the Orientation.

I was nervous. Could I really do this again? Did I remember anything from statistics or research methods?

Regardless, it was official. It was time to put my big girl panties on and do my best.

We mingled with many people the first night, reviewing the keepsakes in the alumni center. The sense of pride that the employees and students have for that school? Wow. It was hard not to get wrapped up in it all. Before I knew it, I was feeling very proud as well. I drank the purple Kool-Aid.

First, Manhattan, Kansas is a pretty neat place. It is like a really big small town. I went for a run on campus in the first week and loved everything about it. Second, the people are friendly and the instructors love what they do.

They only selected 12 for my class. They were from all over the United States - California, Washington, Colorado, Iowa, Oklahoma, and of course Kansas.

Anyway, the questions I get all the time are 1) How was it away from the girls, and 2) Was it as hard as you expected?

Yes. It was hard without the girls. I spoke to Lucy on the phone one night and cried when she uttered those little sleepy words, "Goo-bye, Momma." It was pretty hard. But, the majority of the time I didn't have much down time. I was in class all day, doing homework, doing work, networking, or sleeping. Alone time was unheard of, except for that one run I took on campus (the first night). The most "free-time" I had was spent with classmates. As you can imagine, group work is important. So, I made it a priority to get to know these people. I didn't have much time to talk on the phone or even just stop and think about anything...

Heath did come to visit a couple of times though and brought me flowers. :) He is a good hubby. I truly think that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Yes - some purple pride. EMAW. ;)

And, was it as hard as I expected? Yes and no. It is tough...or rather, vigorous and challenging. But, I feel pretty confident in my abilities and my education. Heath was always wondering what I was doing with my time, since I was busy a lot. I would just send him texts like this...

Overall, I had a wonderful experience in Manhattan. Great people, great school, great city, and so on. I am really proud of what I accomplished there so far and look forward to continuing the program. I can't help it, family; I am proud of this school! It represents a big life choice for me and it's a choice that I am incredibly proud of.

Wish me luck as I continue this path! Please wish Heath luck as he helps me! This is a family effort after all. :)

Who knew? EMAW afterall...