I am smitten by this blog.  It was there that I read this overwhelming appropriate quote:

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day, I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”

I. love. it.  I really do.  On this day, this blissfully “normal” day, my four-year-old son rushed into the kitchen and with a sense of urgency declared, “I’m going to be doing something that’s going to keep me VERY busy!”

“What might that be?”  I asked

“Science.”  He responded boldly and confidently

I quickly shot back, “Wow, what kind of science?”

“The kind that has never been done before.”

Ok. 

With that, his older brother decisively declared his desire to join in, then the fun began. 

They quickly got to work gathering their supplies which included: 

• Various Parts of a Breast Pump,
• Several Halloween Cups,
• Bottle Nipples
• Medicine Droppers
• Measuring Cups
• Soap
• Water

What more could aspiring scientists ask for?

As for Ellie. . .She couldn’t have been happier.

This is her best friend, Cow.  Yes that’s right, her best friend happens to be a giraffe.  A giraffe who seems to have no problem being named  “Cow.” 

Thank you normal day.

Tags : cow, enjoying the small things, kids, Love, mad scientists, Perspective, reading

Sometimes I get frustrated that there just never seems to be enough space in the house.  Every room we have serves a purpose.  Aside from the basics ie. bathrooms, kitchen, etc. . . we have bedrooms, an office, a playroom, and an exercise room.  Each room houses things that I wouldn’t want  displayed in our common living area, so I really don’t want to change my set-up, but there is one major thing we’re missing, a place for our guests to sleep. 

I have been complaining about this issue from the dawn of time and the complaining  just hasn’t gotten me anywhere. . .go figure. 

I decided to use a little creative thinking and figure something out to solve my problem.  I would like to add a sleeping space in the office since it seems to be a little more welcoming than the alternatives.

There isn’t much room for a regular size bed, at least not to be there permanently, so after some research, I have decided that a futon just might be the best way to go.

Now, don’t stop here, I know what you’re thinking.  You’re probably visualizing a cheap metal frame holding a lumpy old cushion right? However, there are several different styles of futons, and each part has many options, making it easy to customize the furniture to something that will fit my needs and perhaps more importantly, my decor.

Take for instance, the frame. While many futons do have a metal frame, they’re also available in wood. Wooden not only look good, they are sturdy too.   Another thing I like about wooden frames is that they use slats to support the mattress which results in a more even and therefore a more comfortable surface to lie on.

Mattresses themselves have certainly come a long way. I wouldn’t dream of putting my guests on a terrible excuse for a mattress when they come to visit!  You can get them with an exterior made of several fabrics, including leather, and a ton of different fillings. Some have bed springs like traditional mattress, while others are made of space-age memory foam. They come in all levels of firmness from the most soft to the most firm.  Pretty impressive, right?

Then there’s the futon is the futon cover. Most people don’t even know that futon covers exist. However they are an essential part, because they keep the futon safe and clean. They come in a wide variety of materials and designs.

So as you can see, just by changing my attitude and looking at the possibilities instead of the problems, I have opened my eyes to a new world of possibilities.  I never would have guessed that they would come in the form of a futon, but hooray for that!

Valentine’s day is fast approaching.  I’ve come to believe that I have never taken advantage of the holiday like I should.  For fear of having to put some effort into finding a gift for my husband on a holiday that focuses mostly on flowers and chocolates, we usually just succumb to the old tradition of going out to dinner in lieu of presents. 

To be honest, I think it’s time for a change.  I love going out to dinner with my husband, but I am in the mood for something a little more special.  I want to feel pretty.  This past weekend I went shopping for a dress.  I have learned to despise trying on clothes.  Nothing fits as well as I visualize it fitting, and a fun outing quickly turns to drudgery. 

That’s when it hit me, jewerly never makes me feel fat.  It never fits wrong, and always makes me feel pretty.  So, that is officially my Valentine’s request, I would love a beautiful set of pearls.  I know the old saying claims that diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but there is just something elegant and timeless about pearls that I can’t get enough of.  I mean seriously, just get a load of this article, and you’ll see where my obsession is coming from

Tags : Gifts, Jewerly, Pearls, Valentine's Day

This past week I took my little girl to see the family doctor.   I took her in for her well child check.  For some silly reason, I am always a little excited about these appointments.  Our doctor has been my doctor for nearly as long as I can remember.  He saw me when I was young, he’s been my doctor through my pregnancies and the births of my children.  He is now their doctor as well.  When I take my kids to see him for their well child checks, it’s almost like show and tell.  I get to show him how much the kids have grown up, what they have learned, and how darn adorable they are. 

He always sings their praises, acts impressed and amazed at their accomplishments, and asks me sincerely how I’m doing. 

That’s why I was excited.

I couldn’t wait to show him how my adorable baby girl has turned into a spunky little toddler.  My grandma volunteered to babysit my two boys so it was just me and the little princess.  She was perfectly charming and very well behaved while we waited in the lobby.  Then when the nurse weighed and measured her she didn’t put up a fight at all. 

I was thrilled.

Then Dr. O. walked in.  He was excited to see her and immediately commented on how big she had gotten.  Then he playfully got down to business.  “Hey cutie, can you show me where your eyes are?”  I was grinning on the inside because she has known the answer to this basic question since she was a year old. 

She immediately pointed directly to the ceiling in response. 

The ceiling? 

I quickly piped in saying, “you know this, where are your eyes?” Another enthusiastic point to the ceiling.

He moved on.

Where is your tummy?  She had shown him that trick the previous year when I took her in for her 1-year check-up.  This time she didn’t point to the ceiling, instead she triumphantly slapped her knees.  She had a big grin on her face as I urged her to try again and show Dr. O. where her belly was.  Another slap on the knees.  

I couldn’t believe it.

Finally he asked her where her ears were to which she responded by pinching her cheeks.  I didn’t bother trying to help.  She didn’t say a word the entire time, and spent most of the visit sitting on the exam table with her tongue sticking out.

She was crazy.

By the end of the visit, Dr. O. was explaining what the signs of autism were and what I should be watching out for.

He told me that she should be able to say simple words like cat, and dog among other things.  I tried to assure him that she did, but when I asked her to repeat it she made some unintelligible sound then stuck her tongue back out.

Soon the visit was over and Dr. O. left the room.  Immediately my little princess picked up a magazine, proudly pointed at a picture of a dog and exclaimed “puppy right there!  woof woof!”

Oh well, I guess there’s always next year.

Tags : Daughter, growing up, health and wellness, kids, Naughty

Sometimes I yell at my kids.

After I do, I always hate myself.

I don’t want to yell at my kids, I try not to yell at my kids, but sometimes I am weak.

It usually happens when I am trying to work, there are crumbled gold fish all over my floor, my laundry is higher than Amy Winehouse, I haven’t showered, every step I take lands my foot on a lego, and my 2-year-old is screaming because her older brother won’t share.

That is usually the point that I get weak.  I feel suffocated by my responsibilities.  

Don’t get me wrong I want all of those responsibilities, I respect them and hold my role as a mother in the highest regard, I just get overwhelmed when I feel like I am utterly failing.

Then I yell.

It’s not their fault.

I think I’ve heard it called the “Kick the Dog Syndrome.”  

I feel disappointed in myself so I take it out on my children.  Trust me when I say that I understand how wrong that is.  I really do, and please don’t think that I am constantly berating and screaming at my offspring, the vast majority of the time, I keep my cool.  I am ashamed of the minority of the time.    

On Friday I found myself reaching my boiling point, then I happened upon some pictures of Haiti. 

I call that PERSPECTIVE.

I feel buried in my  responsibilities.  I feel overwhelmed. . . perspective.

I can’t imagine what those poor people are going through.  As I was looking at some of the pictures from Haiti on my computer, I was worried that my oldest son (6) would catch a glimpse of them and be emotionally damaged.  Then I thought about the kids there who are living in the pictures.  They aren’t seeing those heart wrenching images on a computer screen from some far distant place, that is their reality.  They are the images.  Their family members, their playmates, their teachers, they are  the mass graves and the lifeless bodies on the side of the road.

Their mothers aren’t feeling overwhelmed because of laundry.

How shallow am I?

Today I’m not going to yell at my kids.  I am going to hug them and constantly remind them how much they are loved.  I am going to remind myself that while they may be making messes and fighting over broken toys, I am blessed.  I know where my kids are.  They are safe under my roof.  My roof which still stands safely over my head.

Perspective.

Tags : Haiti, kids, Love, messy, Overwhelmed, Perspective, Tragedy, Work

Today my baby turns two. 

I can hardly believe it. 

Is it possible that on this very day she has suddenly grown up?  This morning she had a full conversation with my mom on the phone.  It has taken her a long time to develop her speech, so to hear her carrying on a conversation, as simple as it may have been, just about blew me away.  Today her baby girl pig-tails look like little girl pig-tails.  Today she has suddenly transformed from my baby to my little girl.

Crazy.

You may have noticed that I titled this post “Guilt,” at this point, you just might be asking yourself what on earth that has to do with my little girl’s 2nd birthday.  Trust me, the title is appropriate.

When my kids celebrate their birthday, I do my best to make it a special day.  I try to let them do just about anything (within reason) that they want to do.  I try to shower them with praise and love and special attention, and most of all, I try really hard not to get upset with them. 

 Well, unfortunately for both my little girl and me, today hasn’t quite gone as planned.

I have mentioned before that I work from home.  I work from home on my computer.  I don’t have an office, my computer sits on a desk in the middle of the kitchen.  I don’t have a nanny or a housekeeper, or a stay-at-home husband, it’s me. . .at work. . . with my kids. 

Most of the time it works out fabulously.  The kids are great to stay busy putting together legos, playing with their hot wheels, or drawing.  I can step in and referee an argument every now and again, I can change a diaper and refill a sippy cup, and I can hold my baby girl on my lap while I type.

Today is just like any other in the fact that I am once again working.  I am trying hard to make the day special for my little birthday girl, but as I mentioned earlier, today she has transformed.  She has transformed from a baby to a two-year-old, and that has proven itself both good and bad. 

Today instead of letting me hold her on my lap while she just sits there being comforted, she feels the need to repeatedly bang the keyboard with her tiny toddler hand.  Today, on her very special day, she has had three massively foul smelling diapers, she has colored on my dining room table, tried to shave her legs with a razor I was certain was well out of her reach, unfolded every single towel in my house, and threw multiple hand-fulls of noodles on the kitchen floor.

I have done my best to be patient.  I have done my best not to get upset with her, I have done my best not to hate myself because she was able to do many of those random acts of destruction while I was working, but what it comes down to is that I am doing my best. 

So is she.

I am confident that by the time she wakes up from her nap she won’t even remember that I pointed my finger at her and sternly said “No, No!” as she threw the noodles to the floor. . . but I’ll remember, she most likely won’t remember the special pink skirt I, or the  pom pom garland, or the dandelion night light that I have spent hours making her for her special day. . . but I will .  But there is one thing that I hope she does remember, that I love that little girl more than I could ever possibly express.  I love everything about her, ever-single-thing.

Happy Birthday Baby!

Tags : Birthday, Daughter, Love, Naughty, Work

I hope that all of you had a wonderful Christmas!  Ours was great.  The day was somewhat relaxed, and the kids were spoiled rotten.  I really do love Christmas.  However, I also despise the aftermath. 

You see, I work from home, on the computer for up to 6 hours a day.  While I am working, my kids enjoy playing with each other, and the harder they play, the messier the house gets.  That’s typical, Christmas or no Christmas, but the joy of Christmas seems to have left a large amount of extra clutter in my life. 

Our 12ft Christmas tree is making me claustrophobic.  The once beautiful and majestice symbol of life everlasting is now a giant dust and clutter collector. 

The toys the kids were so excited to open on Christmas morning have now been poked, prodded, and abused leaving some of them broken or neglected after only a short stay at our home.  My boys got two giant boxes of legos.  I love the concept of legos.  I love that they require critical thinking, imagination, and fine motor skills, but I loathe the little pieces that end up all over the house only to be stepped upon by an unsuspecting barefoot. 

The packages once wrapped in fancy paper with lovely bows, adding to the festive decor of  our home are now piled up sky high in the corner of my kitchen.  Just sitting there.  Waiting for my wonderful husband to take the time to send them to their resting place-far away from my kitchen.

The delicious handmade treats that my friends and neighbors so graciously brought to our home as a symbol of love are now crumbs on my kitchen floor.

And finally, all of the lovely Christmas decor I have been working so hard to collect throughout my adult life  just adds to my list of things I have to dust.

I think I’m going crazy! 

I really make an effort to have the Christmas Spirit.  There are so many wonderful things that accompany this time of year, but now, I want my house back.

Today my mom is making the 20 minute drive up to my house to help me package all of my Christmas decor in their boxes where they’ll be stored and eagerly awaiting their appearance in 2010.  When that time comes, I will be so happy to see them that I will giggle with joy.  But now, be gone with you!  All of you!

Tags : clutter, messy

Even though this site is supposedly meant for “modern” mamas, I just couldn’t resist posting about a mother from long ago who had an incredibly heavy load to bare.  I can’t even fathom what it may have been like to be Mary, the mother of our Savior.  Did she worry?  Did she complain?  Did she ask ‘why me?’  I love this song.  I think it just might her role and her emotions into perspective, even just a little bit.
I have traveled
Many moonless night
Cold and Weary
With a babe inside
And I wonder
What I’ve done
Holy Father
You have come
Chosen me now
To carry your son

I am waiting
in a silent prayer
I am frightened
by the load i bear
In a world as cold as stone
Must I walk this path alone
Be with me now
Be with me now

[chorus:]
———————————–
Breath of Heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me, your holiness
For your holy Breath of Heaven
———————————–

Do you wonder
As you watch my face
If a wiser one, should of had my place
But I offer-all I am
For the mercy-of your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me

[chorus]

Tags : Jesus, Mary

WMAG Contributors

I am so excited for my first blog feature on this site!  I am also extremely excited about the site I’m featuring. I ran across this great blog a while back called Working Moms Against Guilt.  I love the concept of the site.  There are so many mothers that work either because the want to or because the have to, and unfortunately oftentimes there is a feeling of guilt that is attatched to the role of a working mom.  These great moms are taking a stand against that guilt.  It is an enlightening blog that deals with day-to-day challenges and successes that so many of us can relate to.  Here is one of my favorite posts,

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Oh me oh my.

Two weeks ago O decided it was time to go on the potty. I was excited. We hadn’t been poking, prodding, or cajoling him. (I learned long ago this wonderful human being is about as stubborn as his mom, and as long as you give him his space, he’ll make up his mind all on his own thankyouverymuch.) One day he went in a diaper, I asked him where Mommy and Daddy went to the b-room, he said “the potty.” I asked him if he wanted to try going on the potty, he said yes, and here we are.

Two weeks later peeing in the potty is mastered, #2–not so much. We’ll get there, though. I’m not worried.

What I might be slightly worried about is what potty training has done to our morning commute. I purposely picked a daycare that is closer to my work than home. (He’s already one of the last kids there as it is, and the daycare is approximately 5 minutes from my work. All the other moms must work next door or get off work at 4 or something.) Anyway, we have about a 20-25 minute commute downtown

Today we stopped TWICE to go to the bathroom on the way to work. Partially my fault, because I didn’t ask him if he had to go before we left. And I think the second stop might have been a manipulation to get more Hostess muffins.

But hey, he went both times. And I’d much rather stop and be late to work than not stop and be late due to cleaning up my car. Bonus: I get to tour all the lovely gas station and grocery store bathrooms on the way to our work/daycare. Heck! I could start a little side business: A site that lists all the bathrooms off of I-71 in order of cleanliness….

My first post would be a warning to watch out for the Speedway off the Ridge Exit. It’s a little icky.

I would like to highly encourage you to check out their site!  It’s a great read, and serves an even greater purpose.

Thanks WMAGs!

Tags : Working Moms Against Guilt

Last night around the time my hubby and I went to bed at 10:30, it began snowing.  It’s now 2:00pm and the snow hasn’t stopped. 

Somebody certainly shook the snow globe.

It’s beautiful.  The crisp white snow twinkling and untouched on the ground seems to be an open invitation to kids everywhere to leave their mark.  How could that beautiful snow possibly go untouched? 

It couldn’t. 

My oldest has kindergarten in the morning.  Today I picked him up and was home by lunch.  After a snack and homework, the process began.

It always goes something like this, “MOM, where are my gloves?”   “MOM where is my beanie?”  “MOM will you help me get my boots on!”  The belting out of loud demands and pressing inquiries seems to be everlasting.  Then came the actual suiting up.  The long johns, the hoodies, the snow pants, the coats, the hats, the gloves, then the scarves. . . .Then the, “I have to pee!”  It seems to go on for hours!

After the excitement of the preparation, the time comes at last that they get to venture to the great outdoors.  Today I even let my baby join in on the fun.  It wasn’t the first time she had seen the snow, but it was certainly the first time she got to dive right in.  It was sheer bliss for all three of them. . . .for about 15 minutes!  Then they decided they were too cold, the snow was too “crumbly” to build a snowman, and the hills were too small for sledding.

So, the process began again, only this time it was in reverse.  Once the commotion was finished, I looked around at about 15 seperate puddles of melted snow on my hardwood floor, 12 stacks of wet clothes needing attention, and 3 frozen kids with wet hair and red noses.

Was it worth it?  I really can’t say.  However if you ask any one of the three, I am confident the answer would be a resounding, “ABSOLUTELY!”  Which is why the next time it snows when I hear the call, “MOM, where are my gloves?” I’ll be right there, gloves in hand and a half smile on my face.

Tags : Christmas, kids, snow, Winter