New Beginnings

January 1, always excites me.

Technically, it's no different than any other day, but it just screams "possibilities" to me. Possibilities for new and exciting things to happen. Possibilities for new ventures, choices, and priorities. There is just something about a new year that is exciting and fresh. It's funny how possibilities we hope for change as we mature and our perspectives change.

My list used to look something like this: This year I want to lose weight so I can feel good in a bikini this summer. I want to be more organized. I want to keep the house clean at all times, etc.

But time changes things.

For instance, this is not the year that I care to be able to wear a two-piece in the summer. This is the year I hope to feel better and stronger and be able to enjoy every second at Disney with my kids because I have more energy. And it will just be an added bonus if I'm able to wear a bathing suit without a skirt thingie attached.

It's the year I want to focus first and foremost on my family, even more fiercely than I always have, because time is moving forward at an incredibly breathtaking speed, and my children are my world. If my 'tween wants me to do something with him, I will drop the dust rag in mid-air, hurdle the couch, and run to his side because those moments he wants his Mom will become more and more fleeting as his focus begins to be more frequently on friends.

This will be the year I nurture that handful of life-changing female friendships that feed your soul as we navigate life together. Those friendships that weather all the trials of life, and though life changes and throws its share of curve balls, the love in those friendships never changes. I adore mine. We all need those "Golden Girls" we plan to sip tea with on the lanai.

And this is the first time that as the new year approaches, the need to simplify is burning like a fire within me. A dear friend of mine recently moved and downsized and simplified. As I walked into her home for the first time, I could literally feel peace wash over me. Everything in her home was deliberate and meaningful, something worth paying attention to for sure. Yet, the freedom from all of the hoards of stuff was freeing. It is something I want to try to duplicate this year. The sense of peace is worth it.

Also, this year I want to stop glorifying "busy." I am starting to realize that being busy doesn't mean you are important or more worthy or any of those things. It simply means you are busy, perhaps having less time for the more important, authentic things. And what is really good about that? Being busy only means less time for board games, walks, talking in front of the fireplace. This year I 'm going to try to be less busy.

Creativity will also take a front burner this year. I have truly come to believe that nurturing your creative spirit is the key to almost everything. Wherever your creativity lies...use it. I just know it's the key to happiness, and pretty much everything good flows from that. Now that I have a new printer to replace the broken one, I'm ready to send out manuscripts again. I've given up on the myth of perfection. My new motto is just to keep writing, and things will happen.

This year I am going to try to realize that a little love goes a long way. Small acts of kindness change the world. I know that in this over-reported, over-documented world, where every topic from small things to big things are debated in a social forum and opinions are spewed and venom is spewed, I'm going to remember that non-judgement and love go a long way.

This is pretty much my list for this new and exciting year. A list much different from years past. But I'm not going to pretend like some of my past wishes still don't bleed into the present. There is a part of me that would really love to not just get stronger but also see that scale go down 25 pounds. But if I get healthier and stronger and that doesn't happen, I will just fall back on the wise words of a friend who told me that she read that if you carry a big purse it makes you look smaller. Maybe I will just see what's new in 2014's line of Samsonite duffels.

Happy New Year Everyone!

Please share your hopes for 2014. I would love to hear them!

Melissa

Still

Tonight was the best night.

No one was cooking. No one was shopping. No last minute wrapping. And no one was fooling around with Christmas presents. No one was taking something somewhere or trying to get somewhere on time.

We all just were.

Every single one of us sitting in the den. Nothing planned. No movie. No TV show. Not even a board game.

We all just sat and breathed, and relaxed, and talked, and laughed. That's it. But hours of it. Uninterrupted. And it was wonderful.

We were silly, even playing songs on my iPhone and seeing who could guess the songs first. And songs all have stories and memories and so on...

And now, everyone has gone to bed because they have to drive home tomorrow.

But one thing is for sure. Next Christmas there will be less doing and more being.

Because tonight is what Christmas with family should be like.

Happy New Year Everyone!

The Rest of the Story

So, the other day I realized I have a ridiculous amount of parenting books. I can't even bring myself to type the number. Combine an avid reader with a paranoid first- time mom and there you go. I wanted some education.
But here is the thing...it was all junk.
I'm not sure how that many books managed to ALL contradict each other, but I'm pretty sure they did. Pick him up, let him cry, rock him, sit at the crib and move the chair a little further away each night, put him in bed with you, don't put him in bed with you or you will surely squish him, put him beside your bed- like a crib
sidecar... you get the drift.
Bottom line is, these books are written by people we don't even know. And let's face it, many times we don't even take the advice of those we know best, so I have no idea why we put so much stock in complete strangers.
When it's all said and done, there are very few truths that are constants straight across the board. Most of parenting is on instinct. But now that my kids are older, there are a few truths that should have been written about in which there would never be any contradictions. There are several things that no one tells new parents, and you can't find anything about them in the mommy books either.

1. It doesn't matter if you have mostly leather couches, linoleum, tile, hardwood, or whatever. Your child will projectile vomit on the only cloth, unwashable thing you have in a 3,200 square foot area. So really, from about the time the petri dish called school starts until summertime, you might want to go ahead and wrap your furniture in plastic like your Great Aunt Agnes.

2. The powers that be are not kidding. You really never will go to the bathroom alone again. Never. Ever. I have nursed a baby in the bathroom, performed a puppet show with my foot, answered a zillion questions, and played a
modified game of kickball. Also, I have been asked a 37 trillion questions through the shower door. It's sort of like the foggy door makes it seems like the wisdom of Oz is behind it, and they come to me with all of life's questions.

3. Mom competition is a real thing. It doesn't matter if you ignore all the conversations about percentiles or early reading ability, it will hunt you down and find you when you least expect it. It struck me unexpectedly this soccer season when I thanked God I had already had snack duty because a parent after me had snack present boxes tied with twine and soccer stamping on the outside of the box. The next logical step for anyone following that would be for Beckham to hand out the snacks while posing for 8x10s with each child.

4. The things you obsess over like potty training? Well, don't. It doesn't matter if you get an Elmo book about it, do what Dr. Phil says, draw a bullseye on the toilet, give them an M&M every time they pee, or forgo potty training and trust they will "know" when they are ready. It doesn't matter. They will get it. They really will. What they won't get?Finding their shoes, jackets, and backpacks when they need them. This is what you need to be worried about. They will never overcome this hurdle. Never. Ever. Trust me.

5. When they come to you covered in blood like they are trying to make a sequel to Carrie, take a deep breath and look to the highest point covered in blood. There you will find the wound since blood travels down. It's surprisingly easy to forget this obvious fact when you feel like you are in a horror movie.

6. As far as holidays go, you have only two Halloweens to have total control over their costume choices. Choose wisely. And avoid all bouncy houses, restaurant play areas, etc., the entire month of December. If you do choose to go to one, be sure it's worth you and/or your children vomiting into a bucket on Christmas morning.

7. There will come a time in your life when socks will become your nemesis. After they are worn once and washed, you will never accurately match them again. You may be able to match brands, but you won't understand why one looks so white and the other looks like it was dragged through a motocross race, or why one is intact while the other has loose elastic. It doesn't matter if you color code the tips with a Sharpie or try to wash them together. Something unexplainable happens with socks and it will tip the scales of your sanity... weekly.

8. No matter the age difference or gender or how incredibly much they truly love each other, siblings will find a way to fight over absolutely anything. It helps them develop a sense of fairness and competition. Mine have even fought over who saw a pile of dog vomit first.

9. Some of you have never, ever, allowed your children to have caffeine even once. And that's great-it's not good for them. However, if you have never given your child caffeine and decide to attempt it, do NOT, under any circumstances give it to them in a public setting...unless you happen to be at the zoo.

10. Do not purchase anything that requires cleaning out a cage, tank, or filter even if the instructions guarantee it will only need to be done once a month. Don't do it. You will dread it like a root canal and at some point will have a come apart while shaking a filter brush toward the heavens.

11. Protect each piece of a Lego kit like the Holy Grail. If you lose even one piece of a 1,832 piece jet...forget it. It's over.

12. Do not jump on the Christmas Elf bandwagon. Never. Ever. Walk away.
You're welcome.

Ummm...yeah. It's time.

It. Is. Time.

It has been a wonderful summer. Dare I say that never before has my family had such an action packed summer. We have traveled so much, with trips to the beach, and trips to the lake with dear friends. Weekends full of boating and tubing and swimming and sun-kissed conversations over yummy food while listening to bands. There have been wonderful nights by our neighborhood pool with friends - nights filled with laughter. There have been close friendships that have become even closer for both me and my children. We have seen movies and bowled. There have been parties and kid sleepovers. We have been soooo lucky this summer! It has all been absolutely wonderful!

But I will just go on and say it...

I. Am. Done.

It's true. There is truly not one more ounce of energy left in my body.

Today, when I came a hair's breadth away from stretching out on the floor of Toys-R-Us, I knew everything was screeching to an end.
Granted, those who know my youngest will understand that a trip to Toys-R-Us with him after he found an unexpected giftcard after cleaning his room might even suck the energy out of a Jack Russel. But right there, in my big old Palooza pants, I almost melted in the animal habitat section like the witch in Oz.
I think I started downhill when we finally had a toy picked out after 8,472 questions, and then he saw something on a lower shelf, threw himself on his knees in front of it and exclaimed, "Oh, this is NOT over!!!"

I felt like I could cry from exhaustion. Granted, maybe I need to get my iron checked or something, but I clearly did not feel like this at the beginning of the summer.

And if I'm completely honest, there are other signs that maybe my quality of summer parenting has peaked.

Take the sock monkey in the shrubs. Right now, as I am sitting here typing this on my front steps, there is a huge sock monkey in my shrubs. Nevermind the laundry or smudges on my front window, but a dang sock monkey. Right now. Maybe fifteen yards from me. And I just don't care.
I might have cared early June. But tomorrow is August and I really don't care if the entire stuffed animal section of FAO Schwarz is in my shrubs.
Another sign summer is winding down?
I'm exercising.
Not to be thinner or to fit in half of the sad and lonely clothes in my closet, but in an attempt to find more energy and to have a few quiet moments away from everyone that has common DNA.
And last but not least, my mental health may also be slipping a tad. At first, I just felt crazy from all of the sibling squabbling. Who doesn't? The endless arguments over the most ridiculous things. But now my mind is wandering into odd arenas. But I am telling you as sure as I am sitting here, for those times that Jessie or Good Luck Charlie is over and we ACCIDENTALLY see a snippet of Dog With a Blog, I know with every fiber of my being that when that dog is trying to make a point in his serious voice or is being sarcastic that it is the exact same voice that taunted Drew Barrymore in the first Scream movie.

For real.

Yep, if that isn't a sign that Mama needs to get back on a schedule, I'm not sure what is.

And FYI, my youngest just told me that the remote control helicopter that we just bought actually isn't a remote control helicopter like it looked like on the box but just a helicopter on wheels that has some missiles that shoot out.

He just came out here to show me the missiles, pressed the button to launch them, and the helicopter wings fell off.

And just like that I'm transported back to Oz.

Here we go again...Zimmerman verdict

After the ruling in the Zimmerman case, Facebook is exploding again. "Friends" will soon be spewing attacks at each other, while others will choose to "hide" friends from view. Still others will continue to complain about the politics all over Facebook, but will silently stay on social media, continue to read, and then complain about what they are reading.
I've never quite understood when people complain about social issues on SOCIAL media.
Anyhow, this case is very emotionally charged and very sad. It shows how circumstances can so quickly get out of control. It shows how every action leads to another action. Unfortunately, sometimes things snowball and point A leads to point Z very quickly.
This case had all the components for a politically charged stew. Race, guns, self-defense, possible profiling, etc. There was never a way this case could conclude without backlash of some sort.
As I sit and read posts coming from both sides, I'm really trying not to debate. Even though my college degree (Criminal Justice/Political Science) really makes me want to debate. I was one of the lucky ones who got to follow the entire O.J. Simpson case through my criminology class.
But another reason I can't debate, is because fortunately or unfortunately, I can see some points on both sides. And as I also understand it, sometimes if you make a ruling following the law, that does not mean the ruling will be what it OUGHT to be.
Basically, after thinking on it all, and thinking on it some more. All I can come up with is this...
To me, the sad thing about this case is that in the end, Zimmerman may have genuinely feared for his life. But the reason the altercation occurred in the first place is because Zimmerman acted like a wanna-be cop who wanted vigilante justice and even ignored dispatcher orders to stop. So is it POSSIBLE that Zimmerman feared for his life? Yes. Whose fault was it that he was in a position to fear for his life? Zimmerman's. There is a whole lot of gray in this case. No one but those two people truly know what happened. And one has been proven not to be the most honest person, and the other is dead.

Same Old Rules

Okay, here is the thing....

The 40s does something to you. It's sort of like someone reaches into your brain, scoops it out, and remolds it. Your thinking totally changes and so does your perspective.

Suddenly, all of the little things that were important to you, aren't anymore. And what is truly important becomes crystal clear. Also, you simply won't tolerate so many of the things you once tolerated.

Surprisingly enough, most of the things are things I learned on the playground. It's just that now it's an adult playground, and the rules have changed a little, but the principles are still the same.

Here are a few rules I have RE-learned at 40...

Think for yourself.

This one I have found to be a really big one.

Of course we are always told to form our own opinions and not to listen to others, but sometimes it's easy to lose sight of that.

We are always told there are two sides to every story, yet I have been ashamed at how many times, as an adult, I have heard things through the grapevine, formed opinions from that, only to find out later- sometimes years later- that my opinions were wrong, that what I heard was told to me out of context, and the other side to the story- the side I never heard- was, in fact, the accurate side.

Sometimes those who are the loudest are telling you the wrong or incomplete side. Sometimes the person with the correct version is the one trying to rise above, be the bigger person, and not spread the gossip.

This is something I didn't fully
get at 30, but finally get at 4O.
It's definitely something to think about the next time you 'hear' something.

And here is when I reluctantly admit something. So I watched that new trash show the other night- Pretty Wicked Moms. And yes, it is exactly the train wreck I expected it to be. And yes, I am very ashamed that I am afraid I am likely going to watch it again. No, I am not proud of the fact that by watching it, I am, in a way, supporting it. But, darn, if it isn't a GREAT way to feel better about yourself. You will suddenly feel like the best mom, wife, and friend in the world. And that show leads me to my next point..

Bullies.

Another thing we are told as kids is to stand up to bullies. Everything on the school playground is often black or white. Physical aggression, taking lunch money, getting punched in the mouth. It's pretty easy to spot.

But, adult bullying can be more subtle. And this trash show is a great example of this. Adult bullying can be through rolled eyes, picking someone apart, on and on and on. There is just no room for mean people or drama. Just imagine how much a grim diagnosis at a doctor's office would put this into perspective. Imagine how many petty differences wouldn't even register anymore? Once again, I really am ashamed to have watched this total trash show, but in some ways it really makes you take notice.

And Facebook. Our poor children. When we were in school, at least if you weren't invited to something, you either didn't find out about it or you heard about it, in private, at some point down the road. Now, you find out, in print, with pictures included, for thousands to find out about as well.

It really does break my heart for our children. Can you imagine going through high school seeing every single thing out there? Not only did that guy dump you before the prom, but now you get to see pictures 24 hours later of them kissing on the dance floor and how great she looked in her dress. BLECH.

Thank goodness social media wasn't around in the 90s. I know of one fraternity contest where I totally dressed the part and lip synched to Rico Suave. That, alone, on social media could have driven me into permanent seclusion.

And last, but not least, your 40s also re-teaches you to be yourself. Of course I have always known this, but now it's fully understood, fully breathed, and fully lived.

If you love paisley but hate chevron, by all means wear it. In fact, I have found now that if something becomes too popular, I automatically don't like it anymore. What a difference from my younger years! You can't stand the political candidate your friends all like? So what. Don't conform. Ever. Only when you you are truly yourself will you ever know who your friends really are.

And finally, intuition. There is hardly ever a time when your intuition about people or situations isn't dead accurate. I didn't trust my intuition as much when I was younger, which is exactly why my date to the school dance pulled off using the same tux to take me and another girl to our school dances in different towns on back-to-back nights. Seriously.

Intuition about people and situations is brilliant and hardly ever wrong. Listen to it.

All of these things I've known my whole life. But it's sort of like looking through smudged glass that has suddenly been Windexed. (New word) Your 40s allows you to see it all more clearly and understand it all more deeply.

And for a few more wrinkles, that's not really a bad trade off.

Those Summer Moments

Spending seven hours stranded in my house while waiting for the air conditioner repairman AND scraping something sticky off the wall using my Pampered Chef stone bar pan scraper to avoid paint damage AND spilling Hawaiian Punch all over the counter AND accidentally painting a spot on my wall the wrong color AND going outside to hide from my children so that I could please, for the love of all that is sacred, try to read for two minutes, was not exactly how I imagined that my first official day of summer break would go.
But as someone smart and intuitive once said, I think a Beatle?, life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.
Every time I make grand statements like, "This is going to be the best summer EVAHHHH," I am surely setting myself up. That may be the exact moment that someone starts vomiting.
That is when I must remind myself that there are no perfect summers, and there are no totally perfect days, but there ARE perfect moments. And some days have LOTS of perfect moments.
Take today for instance. Watching my oldest sit on the floor of the bookstore with my youngest and helping him find a book he liked- perfect moment. Listening to my youngest sing Bruno Mars in the backseat with the most earnest expression , "I hope he buys you flowers..." Another perfect moment.
My oldest wanting me to sit with him after a day of fun and watch a Braves game he recorded- awesome.
My youngest trying to shoot ground beef out of his nose at Lime, the Mexican restaurant where we had lunch. Ummm, no.
So no, the summer will not be perfect. A whole day will not even be completely perfect.
And for those days when there are hardly ANY perfect moments, there ARE fruity summer umbrella drinks.
But here's to hoping we all have a summer of many, many perfect MOMENTS:)

Popping Tags

The other day I popped some tags.

Not Macklemore's kind, but rather the bathing suit kind.

I don't mean I bought a bunch of bathing suits. I mean, I literally, popped tags.

I tried on a size 6, and apparently the force was too great and the tags shot off across the dressing room like a cannon- almost shooting into the next stall.

They didn't fall off- they fired off.

Remember those optical illusions where you stare at all the lines and your eyes play tricks on you. Well, why in the heck can't they make an optical illusion suit? And after seriously Googling it, I am clearly not the only one who has thought of it. People are trying this. We need a suit with lines going everywhere and if you look at it, it either creates the illusion of a tiny person or even perhaps just makes your eyes blur so much that you can't see anything.

I kind of want to do the Medusa route. I need to know that if people look at my suit they turn to stone. That way I don't have to spend my entire Birmingham summer in a suffocating coverup.

They've already tried the miracle suit. FAIL!!! It's like those little rubber monster toys you squeeze and the eyeballs pop out. The bathing suit squeezes you so tight that suddenly- whoops!!! Well...there you go. It's all got to be re-routed somewhere. Didn't even know I had armpit fat.

At one point I decided I would just wear a loose, airy dress, a floppy hat, and shades. If anyone wants me to swim I can just pretend I'm channeling Garbo and beg to be left alone. I also figure if people are drowning, I can still save them in a T-shirt and a tennis skirt as well as I could a bikini.

At one point in the dressing room I just sat down pouting like a 5-year-old.

But all good pity parties must come to an end. I finally bucked up and found a suit I could tolerate. Because there is no suit that evokes a stronger emotion than that. When I found this tolerable suit, I bought it in two different colors. Because, you see, it may not happen again until the next solar eclipse.

So when you are out popping tags like I was, it will make it more fun if you
sing a little Thrift Shop.

But one lyric I will leave out?

"This is...awesome."

Summa...Summa...Summa...tiiiime.

Summer.

Summer always brings so many emotions for me. I am always excited for the lazy days and unplanned bursts of fun.

"Sure, we would love to come over and grill out and let the kids swim. Plans? No!!! Give us an hour and we will be there."

Trips to the lake. Trips to the beach. Days at the pool. All of us pilled up on the floor after a day of swimming, a slight chill to our skin from the sun as we cover ourselves with blankets and watch a movie- me usually drifting off to sleep as someone's hands are tangled in my chlorine-dampened hair. BLTs. Corn on the cob. Eating ice cream outside. Family bike rides. Gatherings with friends. Reading in the sun.

These are the parts of summer that I love.

But there are other parts. Boy, are there other parts. The screams from another room while I try to do laundry. Accusations of broken Legos, screaming, a noise, a retaliation noise, louder screaming. The result of too much togetherness and of shared space. Day after day. Sun up to sundown.

Remembering that these not-so-great moments are also a part of the summer almost makes me break in a cold sweat and want to look up that Pinterest pineapple martini recipe from a few weeks back.

There is something to be said for lack of schedule, but schedules do have their perks. Expectations are met. There is no, "I'm huuuuuuungry (whoops, is it already two o'clock?) whined through the foggy glass as I try to take my first shower in two days (doesn't chlorine count?)
And if I thought getting everyone to the bus on time was a feat, it pales in comparison to the "getting everyone out the door and to the pool with all the paraphernalia, SPF ready, without me screaming or someone having a meltdown of some sort."

And there isn't a whole lot of relaxing at the pool if you are outnumbered by your children. However, there are some pool rules that would help for sure. First of all there needs to be two pools. One for people who want to engage in water gun fire. Another pool for those who want to float on a raft and/or play with Barbies. There also needs to be a division in the pool of water gun fire for those who will cry when they are squirted in the face, even though they have been engaging in a full frontal attack of everyone in striking distance, and those who will not. In other words, what I'm trying to say here is simply this...there ain't a whole lot of relaxing for Mama at the pool.

I know the men picture us in our bathing suits and sunglasses and floppy hats slathering sunscreen on our kids while we eat grapes and talk about our next Bunco meeting.

But nobody's got time for that.

As summer approaches and I'm filled with both excitement and apprehension, I realize that somewhere in the midst of all of this end- of-the -year May craziness, I need a plan.

Not a laid out schedule or anything like that. After all, summer is summer! But maybe a summer- ish plan. A backup plan for when the Lego building hits the hardwood. A plan so that maybe I can go to the grocery store by myself once in a while. (Just step over me if you see me reading a People by the frozen food.) A plan for when we have all been a bit too "together." A plan for when someone takes issue with another simply looking at him. I need a backup plan for those times. What I really need is a Mary Poppins in my back pocket. But for now, I must develop a system. A summer generator for when the summer fun electricity goes out.

Everyone goes to his own room
and reads? A hidden movie they don't know about? A car ride to Sonic for a milk shake where everyone is strapped in and can't touch each other and the only way you get a ticket for the milkshake is if you don't speak the whole way there??? Who knows.

I am simply going to get hard at work developing a plan so that there are more "piled up on the floor watching a movie after a day of swimming" moments than there are "HE WON'T STOP COPYING MEEEEEEEE!" moments.

Please, other moms, or even people who are not moms but who happen to have brilliant ideas about this, share in the comments or on my Facebook page.

Moms need help!

Meanwhile, I will be working on my summer plan.

T minus 16 days and counting.

Or maybe I should just read outside in a floppy hat. It may be my only chance.

**********
Join us on Facebook at Stressed Moms' Cafe

Don't Blink...indeed.

Today I walked the halls of my local high school. I was there to help a friend with something, and when my job was complete, my mother, who is here visiting, and I roamed the halls looking at the new, fascinating technology that we never had in school and the seemingly college-like gym. But as I roamed the halls, something much deeper and unexpected was taking place. As I looked at the kids, I saw the faces of those I graduated with in a small town in Kentucky in 1990. I noticed the ones who are probably cheerleaders. I noticed the jocks. I also noticed the ones who are probably less popular, and I wish I could have pulled them aside and told them not to worry, that popularity means nothing once you graduate and down the road you will realize it didn't really matter in high school either. Bill Gates wasn't popular.. enough said.
But while roaming around the high school, I have never been more aware that I am a 40-ish-year-old grown woman with two boys who are growing so fast that it literally made my heart ache. I could see my sons' faces on the faces of these giant high school boys. And they were seriously giants. There were moments I couldn't tell which were students and which might be young teachers.
Aren't the moms of these big students just sobbing thinking about how just yesterday these giants were throwing tantrums in their strollers at Target? Do they realize that soon these kids will be away at college and there will be nights they have no idea what their children are doing or even where they are?!?! Do they worry that they will move far away and that their arms will ache to hold that child for just a moment? I don't know exactly what happened to me in those halls today, but it was significant. The feeling stayed with me throughout the day.
Have you ever looked at your child and for just a moment you think you know what he or she will look like as a high school senior and it's beautiful and gut-wrenching all at the same time?
Not long after being at the high school, I watched my 3rd-grader participate in a fundraiser at his school. When I heard their precious voices sing the National Anthem, tears came to my eyes yet again.
That time...the time from when they are running laps in elementary school to when they are those giants roaming the wide halls of high school...how fast do they go? There isn't one parent who won't say it's in the blink of an eye. Of course it is. Because it seems like now is just a blink from when the doctor first handed them to me.
After today, I think if I were mysteriously summoned by the White House to write a super important document to promote world peace, I would toss it aside if my child wanted to eat ice cream and just talk.
Today was big. Today was REAL.
Some days life is just too raw. But if those days serve as a wake up call, forcing us to focus on all the things we should be focused on, then we should surely welcome them and absorb them whenever they may come. And be very thankful for them.

Disillusionment? Find a spark.

Disillusionment.

To me, this is one of the hardest parts of being a grown up. This horrible week has been full of disillusionment. Our souls are crushed with questions like: What is this world coming to? Has the whole world gone mad? How could people be so evil? Why is everyone so angry?

The questions are endless.

There are also smaller scales of disillusionment which add up and take their toll over time. And the results can be significant.

So many questions and realizations can weigh on us. Many of us can find ourselves asking things like: How could a place of worship be filled with so much politics? How could that seemingly sweet mom have done something so cruel to another mother out of spite? Why are friends turning on each other because of political differences? How can that friendship that I once cherished now have become so one-sided and distant? Why are other mothers crucifying each other rather than sticking together?

On and on the weight gets heavier. Sometimes it makes us want to isolate and avoid. But this is one case where our natural instincts are wrong. Following our instincts is the worst thing we can do. Though we may not feel like it, this is the time when we need most to connect with people, no matter how small that connection might be. This is the time when those small acts of kindness mean even more. A smile to a stranger, a shared laugh, a phone call, an invitation to lunch, paying for someone's coffee in the Starbuck's line. These are the times when these small acts become big acts.They can become the sparks that ignite something bigger. Kindness begets kindness, which can become an epidemic. A kindness epidemic would be pretty awesome. Right now things seem pretty dark, but a lot of little sparks make a bright light.

This may seem ridiculous and insignificant, but I still reflect on an incident many years ago at a gas station. There was a man, much older than I, who was clearly taking a break from a tough blue collar job that required getting dirty. He was pumping gas and I pulled up to the gas station, dressed for a full day of reporting, my radio blasting. The song was Lady Marmalade. And people, I had it playing LOUD. My window was down, and I have no earthly idea why I did this, other than the fact that I tend to be a little nutty. But for some inexplicable reason, I leaned out my window and ordered this man to dance. There are no words I can use to express how he suddenly, unabashedly, without reservation, began cutting a rug and freely and furiously dancing like nothing I have ever seen. Nor can I express how much delight or laughter this brought me. Just a random, shared moment between two strangers.

Just a tiny spark.

But I still think about it often, and smile.

Twelve years later.

Slow. It. Down.

     *I've been on hiatus, but now that is over. It is time to get back in the saddle. I will be posting on my blog once a week from this point forward, and working on getting that book published and likely decorating my computer area with rejection letters. If I'm not working on a book, writing in a blog, writing in a journal-or whatever- I'm not fully happy. So that's just that. Hiatus over now.


     Okay, so here is the deal...

     People, we need to slow down. Slow. It. Down.

     What in the flipping world are we doing to ourselves? I know back in the day people had worries too. Big worries. The crops. Illness.
     But for the love. Are we TRYING to do ourselves in these days? I am not preaching. And if I am, I am preaching to the choir-and I am the choir.
     Let me just share this texting stream between me and my friend. And I promise you, with God as my witness, this is real. Only the slightly inappropriate has been changed or left out.
     A little background info for you. I am a co-room mom for my son's kindergarten class, and I was decorating a door for Boosterthon- a race the kids run and get people to sponsor them to raise money for the school. My son's class has a puppy theme.
     Here ya go...my friend's name has been changed to protect her in case she doesn't want her name associated with my crazy. Here it is...

Me: I've taken Claire (from the show Modern Family) to a whole new level and I need you to talk me down.

Vivian (I know, just go with it): What in the world are you doing?

Me: We have to decorate a door for each K class for Boosterthon. It's a competition-need I say more? I'm making 20 dogs but now I've decided they must all be different breeds and wearing Nike's!!!

Vivian: For the love.

Me: I know. I'm sick.

Vivian: I think they need designer collars too. With quotes. Different ones. And jewels. I think they should also have on little wind suits.

Me: One- I kid you not-has a collar with a jewel. What about sweatbands?

Vivian: I was going to say sweatbands instead of windsuits but I was afraid you would think I was serious.

Me: Well, I know you are kinda making fun of me but I am for realzzz.

Vivian: I know you are for realzzz for realzzz, but I just cannot take a Boosterthon door with 20 dogs of different breeds in Nike's all that seriously.

Me: I'm laughing so hard right now that my son is confused.

Vivian: He's going to have many moments of confusion while his mom is butt-deep in construction paper and glue, I'm afraid. He needs to learn to deal with his reality and just stand back.

Me: I can't stop giggling. You do realize I'm freestyle drawing these pups too...
They are also having a finish line between two hydrants...kid you not.

Vivian: Draw one &^% dog, stack the paper up, cut them out and color them different colors. But that would be too easy. <sigh> Oh, I have no doubt it will be amazing. People may line up to look at it. Like Bellingrath. You could even integrate smells.

Me: In a second I will attempting an Airedale.

Vivian: When they ask me when I knew for sure you had lost your mind, I feel certain I'm going to go back to this conversation.

Me: But I think part of you understands this.

Vivian: Of course I understand it, but it doesn't make it normal.

Me: I'm not sure how to make shoes small enough for the dachshund and poodle.

Vivian: Now that's something you don't hear everyday. And you sure can't Google it.

Me: I need therapy. I'm attempting a Norwegian Elkhound.

Vivian: Then you can do a Rhodesian Ridgeback. That's a normal thing to do on a Wednesday night in April.

*********************

I think you get the point.

So now that the fact that my insanity has been established, I will add that I think many of us do this to some degree. At least I hope. We place pressure where there should be none. The sick part is that I had an absolute blast doing it. But that is not always the case. I saw on Pinterest the other day..."Twenty five things to say to your child other than 'Good Job.' "   Seriously? SERIOUSLY??? Are we analyzing things THIS much?

It all began with Elf on a Shelf. I'm telling you it did.

Birthday parties are out of control. Soon Justin Bieber will be rented for some of these girl parties. School valentines are now better than goody bags at a birthday party. And don't get me started on goody bags. Yes, I give them. But I also hate myself a little for it.

Thanks to Pinterest, which I unnaturally love, not only do our kids wear a new, cute outfit on the first day of school, but we must take pictures, post them, and compare them to last year's picture, and have them hold a rustic sign with perfectly placed chalk letters saying what they want to be when they grow up.

Oh, and while we are at it, we need to take a picture of them every month so when they are 18 we can put together a montage to a popular song to show the progression of how fast their noses and other features changed every 30 days.

Slow it down people. Slow. It. Down.

YES, I should be looking in the mirror as I say this.

But when I originally wrote this, I had to hurry because there was dog athletic wear to cut out.

I know. I will start tomorrow.


    

Heeeeeere's Johnny!

     I threatened to go Gangnam Style at the bus stop.
    
     Let's just say not a whole lot has improved about our mornings since the first day of the 2012 school year.

     Everyone was listening to me, yet no one was hearing me. So I did what every good mother does. I threatened them. Not only would I have gone all Gangnam, but I'm pretty sure I would have worn sunglasses. Nothing like the threat of public humiliation to get you in gear.

     Of course this was after I sang the most annoying song in the history of the world to get them out of bed just a tad quicker. In the most annoying voice I could muster, I sang this little hand-clapping ditty that our girl scout troop used to sing...

     Say, say little playmate.
     Come out and play with me.
     And bring your dollies three.
     Climb up my apple tree.

     Slide down my rainbow,
     Into my cellar door.
     And we'll be jolly friends,
     forevermore, forevermore, forever more...more...more.

     (Say this like Chandler Bing) Ummm, could there be a more annoying song to wake up to in the morning?

     For two boys? I think not.

     In all fairness, they actually get up pretty well. It's after that when chaos ensues. Or actually, it seems to be whenever we have time constraints or pretty much have to be anywhere. It can be summed up in four words.

     No. Sense. Of. Urgency.

     My youngest could have one leg in his pants while getting dressed and decide to do something like play a board game. This hasn't happened yet, but will any day now.

     One day my youngest even came home from school with a polo shirt on backwards. Like, the kind with three buttons in the front...on BACKWARDS. I tell myself that this somehow occurred on the bus on the way home and that surely all of us couldn't have been that nuts that morning. However, this is the child who wore cleats to preschool two days in a row because we couldn't find his shoes.

     My oldest could be wearing a Velcro suit with everything he needs stuck to it, and we still wouldn't be able to find something.

     And I truly, TRULY would like to make it until 7 a.m., without feeling a tiny bit like Mommy Dearest.

     And it's not just school. Whenever we are on a deadline, things happen. Someone will have to poop as we are walking out the door, or on the way to baseball practice a hummingbird will fly in the house (true story.)

     One day I was so befuddled by the time we left, I drove to the wrong sport.

     The other morning before school I was particularly stressed out. I decided to go with the saying "fake it until you make it." I plastered a huge smile onto my face and hoped that if I smiled long enough maybe I would feel peace and happiness.

     My husband took one look at me and cracked up, because I'm pretty sure I looked a lot like Jack Nicholson right after he pops his head through the splintered door with a billowing, "Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!"   

     I'm sure I'm a lot to blame. I'm not a great morning person, and I'm sure I could wake up earlier so things would go smoother. They would have time to wake up and unwind more before they have to get going. Blah. Blah. Blah.

     On the flipside, our nights rock! We might all watch a family friendly show together, or pile up in a big "snuggle patch" as my littlest one calls them. Heck, just the other night, in true Bill Cosby style, we even had a trial to see if my husband had, in fact, killed the moth we found dead in the trash that I wanted to peacefully capture and set free. I was serious about it. My oldest was the attorney, and I was even trying to find the meat tenderizer to use for a gavel.

     So our evenings are fun, even sometimes downright spectacular. But those mornings...

     And I do take a lot of the blame for this. I'm not organized. I need to implement a better system. If I came up with something, I'm sure they would follow it. Who is the parent here? I'm sure the chaos in the morning is possibly them just getting caught up in the whirlwind that is otherwise known as their mother.

     But the good news is that I did not have to dance at the bus stop. Whew, that was close. The most embarrassing bus stop event was probably from last year when I wore kelly green heels with pajama pants while waiting on the bus.

     I probably couldn't find my shoes.

    Yeah, no idea where they get it...


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There Is Light

     Sometimes we forget.

     Sometimes in the midst of all the dark and ugly, we forget that there is so much good.

     In the midst of the school shootings and abuse and madness, we aren't able to see the light.

     The media does a good job of showing us all that is wrong, all that is scary.

     I used to be a part of the media. I wrote for a couple of newspapers. I know a little bit about how it works. Unfortunately, if it bleeds it leads. I am not here to media bash. The media is important. It's important to know what is going on around us, what is being done to us, what we can do to fix things.

     Media actually protects us...but...it's a double edged sword. That which informs us, that which protects us, can also harm us. It can dampen our spirits, beat us down, cause us to throw our hands in the air and sometimes throw in the towel.

     It's not easy living in these times. It's not easy to find peace. Even if the goal is to protect us, it's not always easy hearing about all of the things in our food that is killing us. Oh, and that drug that is supposed to be helping you? So sorry. We just found out it's killing you too.

     No wonder our society is running rampant with anxiety and anxiety disorders.

     And sometimes we don't even realize what it's doing to us. It's a slow burn.

     But there is light.

     It's not easy to see at first. It's not a welcoming beacon that absorbs us in its enveloping light. Sometimes we must search for it, seek it out.
But it's there. Boy, is it there.

     In the midst of the Sandy Hooks and the political division that is even now invading our churches, there is also this...  

http://makinglifewhimsical.blogspot.com/2012/12/kindness-inspires-kindness.html

     A woman who rallied a team of people to do 40 extraordinary acts of kindness for others as a celebration of her 40th birthday. Bet you didn't see this on the news.

    
     In the midst of the the hopelessness, there is also this...

http://lifewithgreyson.blogspot.com/

     It's just a blog by an everyday mom who has been dealt a challenging hand. But rather than wallow in self pity, she chooses to reach out to others by sharing her journey with beautiful autistic children in hopes to help others thrive.

     For everyone who is uncomfortably looking away, there is certainly someone who isn't, and who is doing something about things like this...

KONY 2012

www.youtube.com

The KONY 2012 is a campaign by Invisible Children that aims to make Joseph Kony famous, not to celebrate him, but to raise support for his arrest and set a p...

 

or this...

END IT : Shine a Light on Slavery

www.enditmovement.com

     And for all of the hate out there, there is someone like this...

     http://momastery.com/blog/

    A woman with 50,000 PLUS followers who is starting a 'Love Revolution' and a place to help others.  

     There is so much good. It's unfortunate that it's harder to find. Uncommon to hear about. But it's out there.

     There is light.

     Find it. Focus on it. And breathe it in.

     So we can live it.    

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Behold the Power of the Insignificant

Who would think that this...





could make me so happy. Or that this...




could be so flipping irritating?


     Today I learned a big lesson. It doesn't take much to excite me. I always hear about all of these things that are the key to happiness. How a long, strenuous workout at the gym five times a week will change my life. Or how eight hours of sleep a night will make me a new person. Or maybe giving up sugar. I'm absolutely positive that those things are true, I really am, even though they are yet to be discovered by me.
     However, I so often forget just how little it requires to put a spring in my step. Today I bought a new soap dispenser and filled it with some liquid soap from Williams Sonoma. The soap smells like winter air, a crisp fire, and coziness in a container. That's it. Soap. Soap lifted my spirits.
     But that is not the only thing today that lightened my mood. Stevie Wonder was in the house today. Now, I like Stevie Wonder alright, but would not really call myself a Stevie Wonder fan. I just so happened to have the song "Superstitious" on my iPhone because I downloaded all songs spooky for a Halloween party earlier this year. While making the kids shells and cheese today, I hit 'shuffle' and Stevie came on. That is one of my New Year's mini-resolutions. I don't make big ones anymore. Just lots of mini, easy ones. Playing more music in the house is one of them.
     Anyhow, today was only day I can recall that I have ever danced between microwave dings. And I'm not talking a little shuffle here and there. Mama was gettin' down.
     Why in the world I haven't been playing music everyday when I make lunch is beyond me. I hate making lunch. I want to get right to the eating part. When I'm making my own lunch, I don't get up and make it because I think I will be hungry in ten minutes. I usually start the process when I'm already starving, therefore, it's not a bit fun. Enter Stevie Wonder. Something so simple.
     Granted, lunch wasn't quite as productive for the boys. My little one had to jump up from his seat and dance around like a lunatic when "The Freaks Come Out at Night" came on. (Before you judge me, remembeeeeeer... the Halloween party).
     So, before you decide I'm the most pitiful person in the universe, please know that music and smelly soap did not change my life. Not. At. All. But yet, if two tiny little seemingly insignificant things can make your day just a little bit better. What could about twenty tiny little things do?
     I'm so guilty of thinking that the worthwhile things are always the big things. And that's simply not true. Little things can change your day. And everyones things can be very different. I have friends who get manicures. Lots of people's 'thing', but not mine. Not only do I not have fingernails, but my OCD self would have to watch every tool dipped in alcohol right in front of me. Not relaxing.
     A few days ago I bought some lipstick that the actress Ginnifer Goodwin wears. I think she has such a simplistic beauty about her. For just a moment, my little middle school self, pretended I looked like her. (When you are doing this it is important to not walk by any mirrors or reflective surfaces). I already made that mistake once before when I bought a Tyra Banks modeled Miracle Bra. Still waiting on that miracle...
    I guess what I'm saying is that I received a lesson in simplicity today. Find your little things and do them. If it's eating with fancy utensils, eat on Sista! If it's playing music at dinner, go for it. If, after helping with a school craft, you peel Elmer's glue off your hand like you did in second grade while you watch TV, ummm...peel away. (I will not confirm nor deny.) But, nothing is too weird or small.
    Tomorrow I might even put on my Ginnifer Goodwin lipstick, while I make macaroni. Maybe Stevie will even be singing..."Isn't She Lovely?"

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Stressed Mom's Cafe: Happy New Year <--- How Original!!!

Stressed Mom's Cafe: Happy New Year <--- How Original!!!:      Sometimes I wonder if I'm really a cowgirl.      I've always had this ability to totally immerse myself in my surroundings. If I'm ...

Happy New Year <--- How Original!!!

     Sometimes I wonder if I'm really a cowgirl.
     I've always had this ability to totally immerse myself in my surroundings. If I'm outside doing 'outdoorsy' things, I suddenly want to ride the rapids down a wild river, slap on some turquoise, and perhaps wear a long braid, while I work out my arms rowing.
     When I'm riding a horse, I totally feel like that is what I am meant to do. Train horses. Heck, I'm a Kentucky girl after all. Maybe even show horses.
     I also feel like there is a part of me that should be living in a flat in New York trying to make it as a writer. But there is an equally strong part of me that feels maybe I should have been born back during the Civil War, except for the corsets...(nevermind).
     I haven't decided if this means at 40 I still haven't really discovered who I am, or if I simply have an open mind and like to try new things and experience life to the fullest. I'm going with the latter.
     I suppose it could possibly mean that I am simply very susceptible to the power of suggestion. Because I promise you that those HSN people can show me the ugliest 'Mother's Ring" in the world, and within thirty minutes I'm pretty sure my happiness depends on my purchasing it.
     The point that I hope I'm eventually getting around to is that I absolutely love the promise of a New Year where anything wild and wonderful can happen. It doesn't matter if your regular day consists of carpools and laundry, you can truly do amazing and life changing things.
     You can get in the best shape ever (stay with me, I can fantasize), make a positive difference in someones life, a difference that you may know about or that you may never discover, but very real and important nevertheless. This might be the year for discovering your true passion, or leaving your comfort zone and stepping outside the box and realizing that you should have stepped out a very long time ago.
     For some reason, even though January 1, is just another day, there is just something about it that promises possibilities and opportunity.
     I read a quote the other day by G.K. Chesterton. He said, "The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul."
     The new year is an opportunity to wipe our slate clean and do what we have been doing, but do it much better, or to do something altogether different.
     I think something altogether different sounds pretty darn exciting.
     As author Mary Oliver urges, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?'
     That clock is ticking. Let's get to it.