Time to talk

FINALLY!!! A little story about our little vacation...

I have mentioned before that we are in a very bi-polar phase with Olivia where one minute is extreme ecstasy watching her grow and learn and the next minute is extreme agony trying to teach her to be a well-behaved human being. Though it is challenging, Mike and I actually really like this phase overall. It’s really amazing to listen as Oli’s speech improves, to watch her discover things, to see her brow furrow up as she contemplates a relationship between her thoughts and her world. It’s INCREDIBLE.

The agonizing part though is the obvious, of course: fit throwing, saying “No!” when we ask her to do things, and testing every boundary and rule we have. The Boss Lady is a GREAT kid and I mean that so when I list the “bad” here it is truly just behavior and not her, per say. She is extremely energetic which is a good thing until it’s 7:30 at night and we are just getting home from work and Mike and I are just a *little* exhausted and she’s running circles around us as we rush to get dinner ready and get her into the bath.

She loves to play but can hardly play by herself and has an almost inability to be in a room by herself at all. She will literally be happily watching a movie on one couch while I’m on the other but the second I get up to pee, she jumps up and stands beside the toilet while I take care of business. I think the maximum amount of time she’s played by herself was about 15 minutes. I’m not sure what that’s about. I suspect some of that is a product of our parenting style. We LOVE to interact with our girl and we give her a lot of attention. I wouldn’t change that at all but sometimes it would be nice to be able to do something else in my house except sit on the couch and watch Pixar movies. Because when you get up to do something, ANYTHING else other than pay attention to her, she won’t have any of that either. Cleaning the house is hard with a toddler attached to your leg—literally.

And really we could probably not even need to vent about those things at all if our crazy monkey child would just FREAKING GO. TO. SLEEP. Maybe I’ve alluded to our “sleep issues” a little lately. I can’t remember, I’m too damn tired. But here’s the state of affairs in the Kingdom of No Freakin’ Sleep:

I get up at 5 each day to go to the gym. Mike gets up at 5:30 to get ready for work. I get home between 6:30-7 (depending on the workout of the day). Mike leaves at 7 or 7:30. Olivia wakes up around 7, I finish getting ready and make us both breakfast and we are out the door by 8:30. I drop her off at school where she learns and plays all day. Mike picks her up at 5:30, they go to the gym, she plays and runs at the gym “daycare.” I get home around 6:30 and start dinner. We eat dinner at 7:30, Olivia is in the bath by 8:30 and then she doesn’t freaking go to sleep until 10 or 11!!!!! Yes, you read that right. Let me say it again though:

10 or 11

AT NIGHT!!!!

And by go to sleep I mean that at 9, I’m usually about to fall over dead and I convince her to lay down with me in mine & Mike’s bed only to spend the next 2 hours listening as Barney sings about love and farm animals and rainbows and crap and I threaten Olivia 8,000 times that if she doesn’t lay down and be still she’s going to her own room. So, why do I threaten and not do it? Because folks, about 4 months ago, we had to take Olivia out of her crib and put her in a Big Girl Bed because she’s tall and could scale her crib and did it several times right after she got her cast off. We didn’t want her to reinjure herself so we went ahead and bit the bullet. And do you think she will lay in that bed at all while she’s conscious? Nope. We have tried bedtime routines, we have tried laying in there with her (which only resulted in us falling asleep in her bed while she laid there tossing and turning and asking for things like yogurt and salami and water and books), and we have tried walking her back every time she got up. After about the 30^th (I’m not exaggerating) time of walking her back to her room, the only person ready for bed was Mike or me.

But it doesn’t end there. Even after she finally falls asleep, Oli is back up again at 1 or 2 crying like she’s being attacked and she will NOT go back to sleep without one of us sleeping with her. Folks, this is worse than the Newborn Stage. Just in case you missed why, let me do the math for you: Asleep at 10 (on a good day), up at 1 or 2, up again at 7.

Napping is non-existent as well and has been for about 6 months. She rests at school because it’s required and the whole class is doing it but she does NOT nap at home. I always have to chuckle a little when someone is watching her during the day and they say “She didn’t nap today…” as if they did something wrong. I kind of want to act all shocked and horrified and say something like “HOLY CRAP YOU SCREWED UP HER WHOLE SLEEP SCHEDULE!!!” But that would be mean. Funny but mean. Because everyone just sort of expects that a 2 & ½ year old takes a frickin’ nap.

About a month after lots of tears and me threatening to get on a plane to a tropical island and never come back, we just kind of gave up. There was one particular night that I was just in tears over how tired I was and after a couple of hours of trying to get Olivia to go to sleep, I just got in my car and went for a drive. Mike was home with her and when I finally came home an hour later she was asleep and I was at the end of my rope. That’s when we just quit fighting it.

Now, we just let her stay up until she’s tired. Sometimes she lays down with me in the bed, sometimes she falls asleep in the living room with Mike. And inevitably, at around 1 or 2 she wakes up again and one of us goes to lay down with her. Until about a month ago, I was the one primarily getting up with her but for about a month, Mike agreed to get up with her and he did a great job. Now we just trade off.

And if you read all of this one more time, you’ll notice something HUGE is missing from this picture: time with my husband. Between our work and the fact that we have a child who goes to bed AFTER us and who gets up while we are getting ready for work and who will fight for our attention over dinner should we DARE to have a conversation with each other, we don’t have time to talk AT ALL. And though Mike moves Olivia to her bed once she’s fallen asleep, I’m usually asleep too so we don’t even get to go to bed together. And because one of us has likely gotten up in the night to put her back to bed, sometimes we don’t even wake up in the same bed.

Yes, we could do the co-sleeping thing but sleeping with my toddler is like sleeping with an octopus. There are limbs everywhere and I’m getting kicked in the head, the boob, the stomach, whatever. We do NOT sleep well with her in there between us. Or rather, I don’t sleep well. And let me tell you, when parents say their kid has “sleep issues” what they really mean is “I don’t give a crap why my kid isn’t getting any sleep, I JUST WANT TO GET SOME FREAKING SLEEP.” The only person with the “issue” here is the parent. And that parent is me. And Mike. We need sleep.

There is a very good reason that sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique. You go a few days without it and you start getting cray-cray.

Between our constant parenting and our lack of sleep, Mike and I get to talk so little lately that often friends or family will tell me something expecting me to tell Mike but when they say “Hey, did Steph tell you…” he’s like “Um, nope, didn’t know that.” Because we rarely have time to just debrief about our day. In fact about 2 weeks ago there was something kind of important I needed to tell him and I couldn’t even remember if I had. It’s important to tell your spouse important things!

Really right now I just want to take a break to make sure I’m being VERY clear: We truly have an incredible kid. She is funny and smart and loving and so much fun to be around. What I’m hoping you are getting  a picture of here is how *involved* our lives our with her. So much so that we are missing out on time with each other.

We try to keep it in perspective by reminding ourselves that every time we think we can’t go on through a certain phase, it’s over and we are on to the next. Someday we will get adequate sleep. Someday, we will not have a nightly battle with Oli about bedtime. In fact, someday, we might miss the extra time with Lady Loco. But that doesn’t mean this isn’t a challenging time just as much as it is a rewarding one. Not getting to talk, not getting to really spend time with each other is really hard on Mike and me.

I am incredibly fortunate to have a marriage that is built on a strong foundation but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t need some TLC. Mike and I miss just talking to each other. We miss spending a Friday night on the couch watching a movie that doesn’t have talking animals. We miss getting to ask “How was your day?” and then to be able to hear the answer and really respond. We miss getting to snuggle up together as we fall asleep.

Then my sister, Michelle, mentioned she wanted to take a 4 day trip to San Diego to celebrate her 30^th birthday. I think you can imagine mine and Mike’s response. It’s possible we may have been more excited than she was and it was her birthday celebration! We did feel so blessed to be able to go out to celebrate with her and we knew we needed to get away to just be together, to be adults again, to just be us again.

So, in January, we booked 2 tickets to Sunny California and started counting down the days. This past Thursday, my mom got in town to watch Oli A and on Saturday morning at 7:30, we boarded a plane and we were off!

I cannot begin to tell you what an incredible time we had. We had such a blast just getting to spend time together and it was so much fun to spend time with Michelle and her husband, Michael. We walked around the city, enjoyed some of the best food I’ve ever had, and we took advantage of every happy hour we could.

For almost four days, we talked and laughed, we walked the beach, we slept in, and I took long showers without seeing little toddler hands plastered to the shower door asking me when I was going to be done. We even had our own little marriage endurance test in the form of kayaking. Yes, kayaking. Have you ever been? It’s freaking hard. You REALLY have to work together. And I’ll admit that there were a few times I was yelling “What are you doing back there!?!?!?” But we made it and we enjoyed some really awesome views and saw some sea lions and it ended up being a lot of fun.

It was just so relaxing to sit on a patio or in a fun restaurant enjoying food and drinks and hanging out with Michael and Michelle. We talked about all kinds of things and sometimes we even talked about parenthood and The Boss Lady but the most important thing is that we actually got to TALK.

On our last day there, Mike and I were so excited to see our girl. This was the longest we had been away from her and we had both been nervous heading out. I think we had a good mix of enjoying our time away and missing her. It was a perfect amount of time to be away. I’ll admit though: I was sad to leave our little bubble of “US.” I was super excited to see my girl but I knew that the second we came home, it would be back into Crazy Town. Don’t get me wrong, I love Crazy Town. I am a resident here by choice. Hell, I’m damn near the Mayor. But I really enjoyed my 4 days of R&R.

Though our welcome home was tear-inducing for me when Olivia saw me and ran toward me yelling “Mommy!!!” the second we walked in the door on Tuesday night, things have been back to normal. I immediately started on 5 loads of laundry and Olivia refused to go to sleep until 11 even though I was beat from our trip. Right now, I’m watching Oli straddle the back of the couch while singing the wheels on the bus as she attempts to eat yogurt. Oh and we are watching some movie about talking fish. You might have guessed this but there is NO sign of her being sleepy or ready for bed.

I’m okay with all of this insanity though. More okay than I was before we took a break. We really needed that break and I think all parents do. Honestly, it’s not something Mike and I really prioritized before. We are always torn between wanting to be together but being anxious about being away from Olivia for an extended period of time. And when I say “we” I mean “we.” I know it’s more typical for the mom to have mixed emotions but my sweet husband loves his girl. He misses her just as much as I do when we are away.

I think we learned a lot on our little get away. We learned that Oli will be just fine without us for a few days. We learned that we REALLY need to prioritize US a lot better. And we don’t have to fly out of state to do it. We need to just be honest with our family and friends when we need a break and ask them to take Oli for a night. Michelle and Michael said it best on Monday night when they said “You guys suck! Why don’t you just ASK us to keep her for a night?? We totally will!” And really Olivia LOVES spending time with other members of our family. She had a blast spending the weekend with my mom, her GJ (Grandma Jannette). They played and ate lots of sugary things and didn’t have any obligations and that’s good for both of them.

We’ve wanted to have a little getaway well before this weekend but wanting something and actually prioritizing it are two different things.  We can’t help that Olivia goes to be so late and we can’t help that we don’t get much (if any) time together. We CAN help making plans to drop Olivia off with a trusted family member or friend for the day or night so we can be together. I think the best gift we can give our daughter is showing her the importance of taking a break, the importance of spending time together as a couple, the importance of her spending time with other members of our family, and the joy of being together again after having taken a small break apart.

Now all we have to do is figure out our next destination…

Life just happens

So last night I went to bed with every intention of writing about our wonderful, much needed vacation. But right now, I want to crawl under the covers and never come out. Because today: life happened. It started last night actually when my sweet child REFUSED to go to sleep and I think she finally did around 11. What flippin' 2 & 1/2 year old stays up until 11??

Then I was too tired to get up and go to the gym today so I woke up at 6:30, worked all day and forgot to take a lunch break where I had planned to write about the vacation you won't even want to hear about by the time I ACTUALLY get around to telling you about and the importance of it to my sanity and marriage. I came home, where my mom had planned a really nice birthday dinner for my sister, Michelle, and me and stepped off into some s*&t by opening my big mouth. The night ended okay except that until about 30 seconds ago, my child was hitting me with a Shrek DVD and telling me "I DON'T WANT TO WATCH THIS!!!!" and pointing to the TV where my mom and Mike are watching Duck Dynasty. Seriously, I want to cry.

This is life folks: some days rock and some days it feels like you ran smack dab into a giant rock. Some days you think you are going to have time to reflect on your awesome time away with your husband and some days you find it hard to believe that your vacation was just 24 SHORT hours ago. I almost literally feel like it never happened.

But that's okay. No, really, it is. There are good days and bad and the key is not to let it beat you down. The key is to stop and reflect on the good of the day--like spending the morning with my sweet girl, or enjoying a birthday dinner with my mom and sisters, Megan and Michelle (and our sweet hubbies and kids) which brought back a lot of good memories of our childhood, or like watching my Oli play with her cousins and hearing her hilarious squeal, like knowing that as soon as I log off here, I'll go snuggle with Lady Loco (even if it takes her until 11 to fall asleep). And tomorrow I'll get up and rally but today, life just happened. And I'm going to bed.

The best reunion

Tonight, we got home from our vacation and while I was a little sad to be leaving our sunny destination, Mike and I were REALLY excited to get home to our sweet Oli A! I was nervous though that she would see us and not recognize us or not want anything to do with us. Silly thoughts, I know, but this was the longest we've been away from her and I was just scared she wouldn't be excited to see us.

As we got off the plane, Mike and I fought our way to the front of the line to get our luggage, got in our car and broke the speed limit in our excitement to get home.

When we walked in the door, I anxiously approached my sweet girl who jumped up and yelled, "MOMMY!!!!!!!!" She ran right into my arms and hasn't wanted me to put her down yet. Which is why I have to go. Because I'm not passing this up, people.

And, I PROMISE, I'll write more about our vacation tomorrow! It was such a wonderful time and I am SO happy we got away. But tonight, I want to enjoy this sweet reunion with my sweet girl.

I don't wanna go back!!!

I don't want to be whiny here but I REALLY don't want to go back to real life! I mean, I actually really like my real life. But this vacation life of sleeping 8+ hours and eating leisurely meals and stopping for a drinking every few hours as I pal around town...well...this is the stuff dreams are made of! And have I mentioned that I've been able to actually *talk* to my husband? CRAZY, right????

Well, okay I definitely would go back to get my sweet Oli because I do love the sound of her voice. And I might go back because if I stay here, I will weigh 8 million pounds because the food is INCREDIBLE. And I might go back because if I don't I'm sure mine and Mike's employers will discontinue our paychecks. At which point our get away won't seem so cool.

So, yeah, I'll come back. Tomorrow. After I get another 10 hours of sleep!

Vacation with The Fitness Freaks

This morning, these fitness freaks I'm vacationing with wanted to go on a run to "enjoy the beautiful city." A RUN!! That they tried to convince me would be so wonderful. I tried to convince them that enjoying this beautiful city for me equated to a patio and bottomless mimosas. They weren't having it and so I *reluctantly* agreed to put on my running shoes and at least go for a walk while they had their "enjoyable run."

I laced up my sneakers, explained to the part of me that was desperately shouting "NOOOOOOOO!!!!" that breakfast was just around the corner, and off I went. Not at a walk though. At a jog. My sweet sister kept pace with me for quite some time to keep me company. Well, and maybe to make sure I didn't take a detour into one of the many plates of french toast and buckets of bloody mary's we were passing.

I'm not gonna lie: As I jogged past the folks sitting on patios living out my dream morning, I felt a little bit impressed with myself. I was kind of thinking "Yeah, look at me. I'm running. Not eating a high calorie, high carb breakfast. I'm working out like a beast! SUCK IT!" I have no doubt that they saw me running by, hair pulled back in a pony tail, workout clothes on, and thought "Is that girl going to be okay?" 

I kept a pretty good pace, you know, for someone isn't really a runner. We even went up a few flights of stairs and I handled that pretty well. I'll admit that the scenery was quite wonderful BUT it was hard to focus on that because of the rabid dog that was chasing me. Well, at least I thought it was a rabid dog. I mean, what would you think if you kept feeling slobber hit your shoes and you kept hearing this horrid ragged breathing? Yeah, see? Turns out though it was actually me slobbering and breathing like Darth Vader. I told you, I'm NOT  runner. Running is HARD.

Sometime in the middle of my second loop around this what-would-have-been-gorgeous-if-I-had-not-been-RUNNING park/trail, I told myself that if I could just finish the second loop, I could walk the third. But then I got back to the beginning and I sort of thought "Steph, you're stronger than that. You can run just *one more loop!*" So I did. And despite the fact that I was being passed up by little old ladies 3 times my age, I was proud of my jog (Okay, shuffle).

When I got back to the beginning of the loop and it was time to head back, I thought I'd just walk back. But I dug in again and kept going. I sang the Rocky theme to myself as I scaled the last set of stairs and at the end I stopped to catch my breath, feeling embarrassed for nearly puking but still proud of my efforts. AND THEN I JOGGED SOME MORE! My sweet hubby stayed with me on that last leg, encouraging me, and never judging me for my Old Lady Shuffle back to the hotel.

This is what I love about where I am at this point in my life. I am getting wise enough to make better choices but I have the confidence to try things and to push myself in ways I never have. Now don't get excited: I am NOT going to become a runner. I do not enjoy running. It's just not my thing. When the hotel concierge asked, "How was the run this morning?" The Fitness Freaks all said, "Oh, just BEAUTIFUL! We could have run forever!" I said, "It was kind of beat down." The front desk guy and I have a pact that he'll bring doughnuts and I'll bring coffee if The Fitness Freaks try to make me go running again on my freaking vacation! I kid, I kid.

I'm actually really glad they encouraged me to go. I have a great family that isn't pushy but encouraging. And I appreciate the encouragement and the fact that they didn't just leave me behind with my slow jog. I appreciate that they wouldn't have given me a hard time even if I had stayed at the hotel in bed. I appreciate that they did a great job of making me feel good about myself for getting up and going. And, really, let's be honest: I really REALLY appreciated the reward after the run--breakfast and bottomless mimosas.

I kind of thought this might happen...

Yesterday morning, I woke up at my normal time (5 a.m.), went to spin class, went to work, work, work, work, came home, packed for our trip (What, you didn't know we are on a mini-vacay? More on that later!), and attended a friend's birthday party and lo and behold, I FORGOT to do a blog post yesterday! Well, actually I kind of remembered when I got home from the birthday party but I had had a *couple* of glasses of wine so trust me when I say I really did you a favor by sparing you my wine induced ramblings.

This morning, I told Mike that I was upset that I had failed at my Lenten resolution. I thought that might happen but I was really, really hopeful I could pull this off. Then, instead of saying "What's the big deal anyway?", my sweet husband said "You only fail if you give up and stop writing." I love this man, ladies and gentlemen. He is my encourager at all times without being pushy. I love that he knows just the thing to say to motivate me.

Today, I have purposefully prioritized my time on several other things instead of writing so I actually don't have much time for this post. Today I spent time walking around an incredible city, in beautiful weather with my sweet man, my sister, Michelle and her husband, Michael. We stopped occasionally to have something to eat or to enjoy a happy hour here and there. And then I took a one hour nap. AND THEN I took a one hour shower! Tonight, we are headed out to dinner and then who-knows-what--the night is ours to do with what we wish! Again, more on this adventure later. Tomorrow...hopefully.

Please don't say "Dog"

I just got finished having a full on conversation with my daughter about the movie ‘Shrek’ and which character wears a belt and the fact that she put on socks because her feet are cold and how we can’t close the closet door because there are clothes hanging up and drying the doorway and how I might get upset and then she would cry because Daddy told her she couldn’t jump in the bathtub. I’m serious, it was the most random and wonderful conversation I’ve ever had. And she’s only 2 & ½.

I remember when she first started talking. I even have a voicemail from September, just 5 short months ago, where she’s just sort of babbling out “Momma, Momma, Momma!” And now she’s speaking in full sentences. FULL SENTENCES! And putting thoughts together and forming opinions about life and her surroundings and, well, US.

When Oli first started making sounds and identifying objects, it was SO. FREAKING. CUTE. I have never, ever baby-talked Olivia and I cannot stand it when people do that to kids but I have a confession to make:  The Boss Lady used to call dogs “Woof Woof’s” And we used to respond with something like, “Yes, that’s right, dog!” But then one day she said “Dog!” and I felt really sad that she no longer said “Woof Woof!” and part of me wanted to say “No, it’s a Woof Woof!”

I was (and still am) so excited about Olivia talking and expressing herself. But the more she is starting to sound like a 21^st Century person and less like a Caveman, I feel a *little* sad. Like she used to say “I like it, chocolate/cookies/sandwich/whatever” instead of “I like chocolate/cookies/sandwich/whatever.” And now she doesn’t say that at all.

When she first learned how to say her name we would ask, "What's your name?" And she would proudly announce, "Ah Yee Ya!" Now, when we ask, "Is your name Yee Ya?" She says, "NO! My name is Uh-LIV-eee-uh!" 

I wish I could capture each phase of her speech development on recorder or video. It is incredible how quickly she is learning to express herself and this kid is FULL of expression. She has A LOT to say and I’m amazed at her ability to reason things out.

Last night, my sister-in-law texted to ask about a babysitter for my niece on Saturday and I was telling Mike how I really hoped they could find someone so they could go out and this is the conversation that ensued:

Olivia: What happened?

Me: Nothing happened. Aunt Emily and Uncle Matt need a babysitter so they can go out. Someone needs to watch Baby Aizy.

Olivia: Is she crying?

Me: No baby, no one is crying. They just need a night out. Like you know how sometimes Mommy and Daddy go out and you spend the evening with Grandma and Grandpa?

Olivia: Yeah

Me: Well, that’s what Uncle Matt and Aunt Emily want to do. They want a night out.

Olivia: Mommy, you go get Baby Aizy and you and Daddy bring her to Grandma and Grandpa’s!

I mean, really, when did this happen? When did we go from barely saying “Mama!” to entire logical conversations? I am blown away and a little overwhelmed by this.

And not all of our conversations are totally clear. Like the one we had at the beginning of the week:

Olivia; I spread it on the bed.
Me: You spread what on the bed?
Olivia: No, on the BED.
Me: On the bed?
Olivia: NO! On the BED!
Me: hmmmm...you aren't saying 'bed?'
Olivia, No, BED.
Me: Can you explain?
Olivia: Hmmmm...*looks around the room* Peanut butter and jelly!
Me: OH, the BREAD!!!!
Olivia: *big smile* Yes, the BED! 

I seriously do LOVE getting to hear all The Boss Lady has to say. She’s a pretty funny kid and she is constantly sharing her thoughts with us. When she started getting really chatty Mike said, “Well, no wonder she cried all of the time as a baby, she had all of this to say and never could get it out! Can you imagine having ALL of this in your head and not being able to communicate?” He makes a good point.

And though I do miss the days of the “Woof Woof’s,” I love getting to ask my sweet girl how her day at school went and hearing some seriously random and entertaining stories from her. IS there a prouder moment than when your child reports, “I didn’t pee-pee in my panties today!”?  Yeah, I think not. 

Air Traffic Control to Olivia

I will take most of the blame and say that I am usually the reason our family is late to nearly everything. BUT, my darling daughter does appear to be following in my foot steps. Every. Single. Morning. I am directing her to eat breakfast, get dressed, stop getting out books, brush her teeth, put on her coat, get in the car, no REALLY GET. IN. THE. CAR. No, we cannot ride bikes. Yes, you have to go to school. No, you cannot sit in the driver's seat of the car. Yes, you can bring your doll, books, whatever, but not into school. Put your shoes back on your feet. No, the other foot. Crap, yes, I forgot your lunch!

Does anyone else feel like air traffic control trying to get their kid to just get out the friggin' door??

Now, I don't normally classify myself as an optimist but I really must be because every single morning, before Oli gets up, I think "Today is going to go so much more smoothly. Today I will be on time to work." And every single morning, I am running around this house trying to just get us in the car and thinking "Well, 15 minutes late isn't *that* bad..."

It's not even that our mornings are bad really. Usually we are laughing and talking and enjoying each other's company but I DREAD that moment when I say "Okay, time to get dressed!" In that moment, Lady Loco comes out in full force and off she goes, trying to outrun me through the house. OH, and is anyone else shocked that their child has the speed of an Olympian and the strength of 10 men when they don't want to do something? I mean, I just grasp for anything as she streaks by me and wonder "How the heck did she manage to completely undress herself...AGAIN?!?!?"

The wrestling match to get her socks and shoes on is WWE worthy and there are crocodile keepers who make sticking their heads in a crock's mouth look like child's play compared to me trying to brush Olivia's teeth.

Every 30 seconds I am saying things like "You are about to lose your stickers!" or "No jelly beans this morning!" or "No, you don't need to go poop AGAIN. I know you are just stalling."

And y'all, this is all BEFORE 8:30 A.M.!!!! By the time I get to work, I feel like I've already worked one full time job. It's insanity.

I dread the day when we actually have to be on time somewhere. When that day comes, be on the lookout for a little girl with no pants on and her teeth not brushed with her mom who forgot to take her hair out of hot rollers before they left the house, cause that'll be us, folks.

Better late than never!

Happy New Year, everyone! Okay, yeah, I know I’m a *little* late BUT that’s just how I roll these days. I’m late to everything and a New Year’s Resolution is no exception. So, here it is, my BIG goal for 2013:

To become a spin class instructor!

Can I just tell you how nervous I am about this? I mean, this is WAY bigger than I’ve ever reached before. Although maybe it’s not. Two years ago, when I embarked on a journey to finally lose weight and get healthy, I wasn’t sure I could do that either. I mean, I had NO idea how I was going to lose so much weight AND stay healthy. But I did it.

By the way, small update on that. I am now at a healthy and consistent 145 pounds. I *wish* I was still at 135 but with no more breast feeding burning an extra 500 calories a day and an office job that keeps my seat warm all day, it’s understandable. My docs were really excited when I reached 145 so 135 was really sort a dream weight. I’m not entirely happy with it though and by refocusing this year, I plan on getting to and staying at 140.

And, really, honestly, in 2012, I was a little bit lazy. We just moved into this new house and Olivia has been growing like crazy and my job picked up the pace quite a bit and before I knew it, I just lost focus of my health goals and priorities.

Isn’t that what we do as moms? We get so wrapped up in the day to day that we forget that our own health is SO IMPORTANT. Working out and staying in shape may sound a little like vanity, and some of it is. I love feeling great in my jeans and getting to wear more “fun” clothes because I can fit into them. And I have a swimming pool now and there’s nothing like being in a bikini every day to remind you how much weight you’ve gained!

Working out and eating well is bigger than that though. It’s about taking care of myself. It’s about showing Olivia the importance of taking care of yourself as a woman, a wife, and a mom. I feel great, not just physically, but emotionally when I work out. I have more stamina throughout the day, I feel better, and I just feel really powerful about my day. I love starting the day at the gym.

I’ll be honest though: I HATE getting up at 5 to work out. I love my sleep so much and it’s so hard for me to get out of bed. One of the reasons I’m late posting this is because I had such a hard time actually getting up to go work out in January that I started to doubt why I even gave myself a New Year’s Resolution to begin with. I started to give up my resolution before the end of the first month of the year! Then, at the beginning of this month, I had to have a pep talk with myself about how I could either continue making excuses for not taking care of myself or I could get my butt out of bed and get things done. I moved my alarm clock across the room, requiring that I get out of bed to turn it off, and I’m on week 3 of getting up every day (except Saturday & Sunday—those are my days off) and going to the gym.

My goal to become a spin class instructor is starting slow. I gave myself the past 2 weeks to get back into the habit of working out daily. Yesterday, I went to my first spin class in months. I didn’t know this, but the Monday class is actually a split class. It’s 30 minutes of spin and 30 minutes of strength training. I persevered through it and felt great about it all day yesterday. Today I feel like I got hit by a truck. But I got up again this morning and spent some time on the treadmill working out the kinks in my sore muscles. Tomorrow, another spin class and I’m looking forward to kicking some booty! And maybe getting mine kicked a little too.

I even took another look at my diet and what I’ve been eating. Since I lost so much weight, I kind of got complacent. I started letting myself cheat a little more than I should. I kept making excuses for why it was okay to make bad food choices. I also got bored with my lunches and started eating more prepackaged foods. Oddly, I started noticing a drop in my energy and a change in my moods. Shocking.

I’ve been packing a healthy lunch every day full of lots of veggies and lean proteins. I’m actually really enjoying it! Some days, I’d much rather be sinking my teeth into a juicy burger or a pizza but I save that for my cheat day.

I feel really great about getting back on track and I feel great about sharing this with all of you. I did procrastinate in writing this because I didn’t want to admit that I had gotten a little lax in my diet and workouts. I wanted to be able to write to say that I hadn’t gained a pound in a year and a half and that I worked out every day with no problems.

I guess that’s not reality though. Reality is getting busy and wrapped up in life and forgetting that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of everyone else.  

And I really want to say thank you to my sweet husband who is always encouraging but never pushy. We’ve worked out a great system that allows me to get to the gym and eliminates many of the hurdles that provide excuses for me not to go. And,  even though they may not know it, I’d like to thank my friends Sara and Amanda for inspiring me in this too. A few months ago, Sara posted on Facebook that she had begun teaching some workout classes at her gym and I just felt so proud and inspired by her. She shared her nervousness but pushed through it. And from what I gather, she’s doing a great job!

A few weeks ago, Mike and I met Amanda and her husband for dinner and a movie and we were sharing our New Year’s Resolution and she shared that hers was to run a 5K and she’s doing it! I love seeing her posts about registering for different 5K's in the area.

I went to college with both of these women and we’ve seen each other through many phases of life and many different jean sizes and I feel so proud to know these women who are choosing to take care of themselves. We all have kids now and we’re all in our 30’s but I love that we are probably more healthy and confident than we ever were in college. I love seeing that growth in my friends and I am very grateful for their inspiration.

And I’ll be thankful to any of you who cheer me on as I embark on this new and *scary* goal! Working out AND talking to other people during??? Scary, yes. But I have no doubt it is going to be oh-so-worth-it. As Mike said, “I wouldn’t mind being married to a hot spin class instructor.” Funny thing--I wouldn’t mind being one. 

SUCK IT, Monday!

You know how the other day I was writing about how Facebook is so upsetting because everybody’s life just looks so damn perfect on there (see: Facebook is Porn)?? Well, today that was MY life! AND it was a Monday to top it all off! And if my phone wasn’t such a piece of poop and I could have posted perfect pictures of my perfect day all day, I totally would have! HA!

I’ll be honest, when I found out Olivia’s school was closed today, I wasn’t even sure what that was all about. Well, it turns out it’s President’s Day and in the corporate world most folks would say “What day?” Unless they have kids in school because a lot of schools closed for this supposed “holiday.” I mean, really, if Hallmark doesn’t have a card for it, is it *really* a holiday? But major thanks to the school district for recognizing this day (even though Oli doesn’t go to public school yet, her school follows the local school district). And major thanks to my bosses for letting me off today to spend the day with The Boss Lady. Because it was AWESOME!

I woke up this morning at my usual 5 a.m. and started the day off right with a butt whippin’ courtesy of spin/strength training class. When I got home, I sat on the couch, drinking coffee, folding laundry, and catching up on my latest show obsession, The Walking Dead. It was a wonderful morning.

When Olivia woke up, we took our time getting ready and headed to the zoo to take advantage of the incredible weather we had today (thanks to Mother Nature for February in the south!). We met up with my sister, Megan, and her two boys and really ALL of the kids were great. They were having fun together and running and playing and despite some pretty normal corrective action, Meg and I didn’t have to threaten them with beat downs for poor behavior every 30 seconds. Really, they were GREAT!

Oli and I stayed a little longer, taking extra time to see the penguins where my girl matter-of-factly informed me of the penguins’ names, courtesy of Happy Feet 2. We rode the carousel on our way out and we left the parking lot with huge smiles on our faces.

When we got home, we played and watched movies and she even helped me make dinner. And there was like NO whining. I’m serious. The ONLY issue we had ALL day was after Mike got home and her exhaustion set in and she started assing out a little. But, really, it has all ended very well.

So, I’m sure you all know what this means: tomorrow I’ll be struck by lightning. It was real nice knowing all of you!

Oh, and did I mention that we happened to also find a sack of money and that rainbows started coming out of our a$$es? You know, cause that’s how perfect days go. 

Feeding the birds = SO FUN! Even though I got pooped on!

Love time with my Lady Loco!

The Innovation Award

Since Olivia became fully potty trained we quit carrying a diaper bag. I was elated to pack those things up and have one less thing to strap on like a pack mule every morning. At this point, we really don’t even need a change of clothes for her because she’s great about telling us when she needs to go potty. If we do pack an extra shirt/pants/panties, we usually just leave them in the car just in case.

The downside to not having a diaper bag, as we discovered this morning in church, is that our diaper bag was like a MacGyver survival kit. We had wipes and creams for every ailment and toys and books and even batteries (weird, right?), and hand sanitizer, and well, you get the picture. No matter the situation, we had it covered.

Now when we go somewhere, we just bring Olivia’s little backpack stuffed with colors and coloring books and a few small toys. But it’s a small backpack, toddler sized, so you can’t fit much more than that in it.

So, as you all know, it’s cold season. And when you are in the midst of cold season, your kid becomes a snot faucet. We have ourselves a very runny snot faucet. Oh, who also happens to have just learned that she can blow her snot out of her nose instead of just sucking it back up into her sinus cavities. The great thing about this is that we no longer have to use those snot bulbs (best invention EVER by the way). The not-so-great thing is that toddlers (or maybe just my toddler?) think boogers are funny.

There we were in church this morning, enjoying the message while Olivia actually for the VERY FIRST TIME fully behaved herself when I heard my sweet angel blow her nose. Only I subconsciously knew this couldn’t be right because I hadn’t pulled out a tissue for her to do so and neither had Mike so I snapped to attention to find that Olivia had blown out of her nose quite possibly the largest “clump” of green snot I had ever seen. It dangled precariously out of her nose, getting longer by the millisecond, its tail end resting on her chin as the body of the snot clump rested comfortably on her lips.

I gasped “Oh my God!” Mike audibly yelled “AAAAAHHHHHH!” causing the young single guy in front of us to turn around and make a face that gave us every indication that he had thrown up in his mouth a little. We frantically reached for the diaper bag that was…NO LONGER WITH US! I searched in my purse for tissue, wadded up napkins, SOMETHING but to no avail. Mike hurriedly jumped up announcing he was going to get toilet paper from the bathroom as Olivia stuck out her tongue to get a taste of the snot clump.

Still, my eyes scanned the immediate vicinity for something, anything, I could use to rid ourselves of the ever lengthening snot clump. I knew that time was of the essence and Mike would never make it back with the toilet paper before the snot clump plopped onto the floor. And look, we aren’t above using our sleeves or our shirt tails but this snot clump was freaking disgusting. I mean, it was HUGE. And neon green. I mean, GROSS.

My eyes landed on the coloring book—AAAAAHHHHHAAA! I ripped a page out and victoriously grabbed the snot clump off of Olivia’s chin, crumpled up the paper, and shoved it in my purse. Yes, I felt proud of my innovative outside-of-the-box thinking. I knew my daughter would be happy that I rescued her face from the obscene grossness of the snot clump. Instead, she loudly announced “You tore my coloring book!” Eh, you win some, you lose some.

Later in the service when I heard The Boss Lady making those I’m-about-to-blow-my-nose-again noises, we were ready with the toilet paper Mike had seized from the bathroom. But rather than risk another page of her coloring book being ripped apart, my innovative daughter reached her finger in her nostril, pulled out a snot clump herself, and disposed of it in her mouth. 

Deep thoughts from 'The Bachelor'

Confession time: I’m a HUGE fan of ‘The Bachelor’ and ‘The Bachelorette’ series on t.v. True story. No judging! I’m not sure what it is about this ridiculous show but I am hooked and every season I record the show and watch for a solid hour (or more) as young men and women from all over the country publicly humiliate and slut themselves out. My love for this crap is a sickness, I’m aware.

Today I was catching up on this week’s episode and there was one moment that actually sort of touched me and made me think a little. The Bachelor was asking one of his Harem Girls who he would meet if he were to go home and meet her family. And she was telling him that he would meet her parents and she started crying talking about her family and about what they meant to her. She went on to say how much she respected her parents and their marriage and how they had exactly what she wanted in a relationship and marriage for herself.

Put aside the fact that if she actually respected her parents, she wouldn’t go on that show to begin with. It was actually a really sweet thing to say. I mean, as parents, Mike and I REALLY hope one day Olivia would like to emulate our marriage. I hope one day she is telling a man she cares about that she hopes to have a marriage like her dad and me. Albeit, I hope it’s not on national television and that I don’t have to watch her cat-fighting with 25 other women over said man.

Our marriage is certainly not perfect but Mike and I love and respect each other deeply and I’d really like it if our daughter was able to see that so clearly that she wants that for herself. I’d love it if, as a teenager, we are able to set a good example for her when she starts dating. I’d love it if, as a young woman, we’ve taught her to demand from and give respect to a partner to grow a healthy relationship. And, you know, it would be nice if she thought enough of us to NOT compromise her self-respect and reputation for a show that basically provides a legal brothel of 25 women for one man.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m still gonna watch the show. That nonsense is priceless. It’s like watching a train wreck. You want to look away but just CAN’T.  I just hope my daughter is never one of the passengers on that train. But if she is, and she’s telling the King of the Sluts that our marriage is what she wants for herself and she could somehow swing it so we could be on one of the episodes filmed on some tropical island, I guess I’d be okay with that. I kid! I kid! Kind of…

A Night of R&R

Today, as I was leaving work, I told a coworker, “I’m so tired I don’t even want to drive home.” But drive home I did, counting down the minutes until I could get home, put my sweat pants and t-shirt on, kick up my feet, have a glass of wine, and do nothing for the rest of the night.

Psssssshhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Yeah. Right.

Sure, I’ll kick my feet up, relax a little. Right after putting away all of the lunch and school things. Oh, and right after checking and sorting the mail. Oh, but not until sorting through Olivia’s Valentine’s party stuff from yesterday that I didn’t get to last night.  And then of course, there’s those sheets that have been sitting in the dryer all week. Aaaaaaannnnnnndddd, I *guess* we have to eat dinner soooooo, I’ll kick my feet up right after that. Oh, well, you know, I mean after the dishes are done. And the counters wiped down. And—wait—should I sweep the floor tonight to get up all of the rice from dinner? Well, I definitely should pick up that crayon that's been hiding under the counter for the past 6 months. I'll just straighten up these coloring books and markers while I'm putting away the crayon. And since it’s Friday and I don't have to get up so early tomorrow, I can maybe spend some time checking and responding the 46 e-mails that have been sitting in my inbox for the past month. Yeah, and those Facebook messages. But then, really, right after that I’ll sit back and relax. As soon as I’ve helped Olivia brush her teeth. And get some water. And some strawberries. And put a movie on. While I’m sitting down for a second, I should probably get those birthday cards ready to be sent out next week. Whoa, did I just sit down in peanut butter??? I should clean that up. Ooh, and I’ll be super productive and take these clothes to the laundry basket on my way to get a towel to clean up the…what was it? Oh, yes, peanut butter. Wait…did I pay the water bill? Oh, yeah, I did that. Whew, there’s one thing already done. But then wasn’t I going to do some research on gymnastics classes for Olivia? Hang on, I need to open another bottle of wine….Okay, I’m back. Where was I? Oh, yes, my night of rest and relaxation…

Ah, what the hell. I’ll rest when I’m dead. 

A Much Better Valentine

Before I met Mike, I didn’t think much about Valentine’s Day. I didn’t hate or love it, I was just pretty indifferent. I didn’t used to be a very sentimental or sappy person. I mean, I thought love was great and all but I didn’t really get all of the ooey gooey stuff.

Then I met Mike about 2 weeks before Valentine’s Day and I felt a little different about the day that I once viewed as a Hallmark Campaign To Make Money. Every year, since we met, my sweet husband has given me a beautiful card in which he writes a very sincere and tear inducing message to me. This year, I got in my car this morning to find my card sitting on my driver’s seat. It was an incredible way to start my day.

The funniest thing about that is that Mike and I are probably the cheapest people on the planet. I mean, we just don’t spend money on things. Well, you know, we buy what we need but we are really pretty frugal. But each year, we trek to the store to buy each other pieces of paper covered in bows and hearts that have sweet poems or messages for the bargain price of $6.99 even though I routinely drive out of my way in this city to about a $.50 toll road. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love getting that card each year. I love waking up to “my valentine” and getting to come home to him. Mike changed the way I thought of Valentine’s Day and, really, Love entirely.

Then, we had Olivia. I never knew holidays, even the lovey dovey ones like Valentine’s Day, could be so much FUN with a kid! Mike and I have a blast planning out little gifts for her or thinking of little surprises. On Monday night, Mike was so sweet and asked “Should I go to the store to get Oli a Valentine present?” He’s a great dad and my heart was full hearing him ask about getting his sweet girl a Valentine.

When The Boss Lady woke up this morning, we had a basket of goodies waiting for her. One of those things was this dancing pig that reminded me so much of her when I saw it. It dances around and sings and reminds me of Oli when she’s dancing around the kitchen or living room for us. I happily stayed up late each week to make goody bags for her class and get her cards ready for school. I was so excited about her party at school that you might have thought I was the one have a Valentine’s party! Seriously, it’s really FUN celebrating with a kiddo.

This year though, as I am sure I’ll do every single year until I’m dead, throughout the day I was reminded of the horror that was Olivia’s very first Valentine’s Day.

If you haven’t been a reader for very long, feel free to check out that awful day at Humpty Dumpty's Valentine's Day Adventure.Here’s a recap though: On Olivia’s first Valentine’s Day (she was just nearly 6 months old), she and I had come home and I had put her in her Bumbo on the kitchen island—like we ALWAYS did. I was writing a message to Mike in his Valentine’s card when Olivia lunged forward (or something, I’m still not really sure) and went flying out of the Bumbo and landed on the floor. It was awful beyond what I can describe. Even just thinking about it today, I felt a little sick.

I remember seeing just a flash and then actually hearing her hit the floor. I remember running (all of 7 steps) to her and seeing her lying face down on the kitchen tile and screaming her head off. I remember picking her up and my mind and heart and adrenaline racing and thinking that if something was wrong with her, my life would be over. I remember thinking how I absolutely could NOT live without her if something happened to her or how devastated I would be if that accident somehow ruined her life. I remember thinking and feeling and seeing all of those things in a matter of about 2.5 seconds. My life was suddenly in slow motion at the sight of my child hurt.

Mike arrived home just as the ambulance was arriving and they recommended we take her to the childrens’ ER. About 6 hours later we found out she had a skull fracture but that she would be just fine. And then they sent us home. Yep, they sent us home with a kid with a broken skull with instructions to give her children’s ibuprofen as needed and to have a nice life. Oh, and to keep the Bumbo off of the kitchen counter. The sense of relief I felt when we found out she was going to be okay was truly overwhelming.

I had no idea I was capable of that kind of emotion, that kind of heart stopping fear or action inducing adrenaline. I had no idea that one tiny person who I had known for less than 6 months who had spent most of that time depriving me of sleep, dousing me in her bodily fluids, and screaming at me for her every need could make me feel so much LOVE.

I knew in that moment that if something happened to her, I would die inside. My soul would be hurt in a way that would be irreparable.

Mike is and always will be the most important human to me but Mike and I are realists. We know that someday one of us IS going to have to live without the other. Of course, we don’t want it to happen and we’d like for that day to be a LOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time from now but the reality is that it will happen. I don't like to even *think* of having to live without Mike which is why we've agreed I can die first. Morbid, yes, but I don't want to live without the man. 

And neither of us is or will ever be prepared to live in a world where there is no Boss Lady. Period.

One of the most magical things about parenthood is the ability to love someone you just met SO FREAKING MUCH. It is a truly unconditional love and I am convinced this is God’s way of giving us a small glimpse into the way He loves us. I love that mine and Mike’s unconditional love for Olivia was born from our unconditional love for each other. And our love of each other was born from the unconditional love of our God. I LOVE the love in my little family. I love that we support each other and lift each other up. I love that even just short of 6 months of knowing her, my sweet girl had taught me how fierce, how unexpected, how incredible love of another can be. I love that even though those first months with her were trying, she showed me how unconditional love could really be.

Truthfully, I did not love the baby phase. I love certain things about it, but it was a butt whippin’. I was tired and my body hurt from having carried a baby for 9 months and having been cut open courtesy of a c-section. I was tired in a way I never had been and for the first time in my life, I could not control a situation to make it go the way I wanted. There were moments in the beginning that I thought, “I thought having kids was supposed to make your life better…” And despite all of the challenges, when Olivia fell, my heart stopped with the knowledge that if ANYTHING bad happened to her, I would die inside. Since the day I knew this kid existed, her name has been embedded in my heart. Even now, as she sits here beside me trying to press buttons on the keyboard, I am struck by the complete way that I love her.

Our third Valentine’s Day evening with Lady Loco went quite a bit better than that first. After dinner, we celebrated with a special treat: chocolate dipped strawberries. We all stood at the kitchen counter around a pot of melted chocolate and dipped and ate strawberries together. It was so sweet to see Olivia getting into it, dipping each strawberry with care and telling us which ones were hers and which were ours.  It was just a nice night together as a family full of chocolate and strawberries and unconditional love.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

"Excuse me, you have some dirt on your head."

So, here we go: 40 (or so) days in the blogosphere, sharing my daily adventures/thoughts/musings/rantings with all of YOU!!! You’re excited, right? Well, I am. Because this will be a challenge for me. One, because I don’t always have time to sit down and write. Scratch that. I don’t always make time to sit down and write. And that’s partly what my Lenten resolution is about this year—MAKING time for the things that are important to me and help me stay sane. One of those things for me is writing and sharing my frustrations and joys with all of you out there. I hope it helps you, too, to know that we often share the same frustrations even when we feel like we are all alone in Crazy Town.

The second reason this will be challenging for me is that, because I don’t write every day, I edit what I want to say so that I can sort of make it count so to speak. This daily sharing thing will be interesting because some days I’m sure I’ll have nothing profound or entertaining to say at all.

Okay, enough about all of the why behind my internet display of insanity. Either you’ll love reading these daily musings or you won’t. Either way, it’s happening people. And it all started today with Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent and the preparation for Easter Sunday.

For my protestant friends out there, you may be wondering what in the heck Lent is or what in the heck Ash Wednesday is. And I’ll give a small overview but *very* small because I’m not a theologian and I don’t want to give any misinformation.

Basically, Lent is a time of preparation for Easter. It’s a time of penance which is why many people “give up” something or challenge themselves to do more of something. It’s a time to prepare yourself for the celebration of the death and resurrection of Christ (Easter). Ash Wednesday is the kick-off and during an Ash Wednesday service, you get ashes smudged on your forehead in the shape of a cross. The ashes are an outward sign of repentance to God.

 Ash Wednesday is one of my favorite services the Catholic Church offers. This “celebration” is more exciting to me than New Year’s. I mean, I LOVE this season in the Church. I love the weeks leading up to Easter. I feel so much anticipation in preparing for the VERY reason we are able to call ourselves Christian—the death and resurrection of Christ. I even love this more than Christmas.

I mean, I enjoy the celebration of the birth of Christ but it was his DEATH that saved us from our sins and I just love that the Church recognizes this whole season as being incredibly significant to us as Christians. And I’m probably not doing it very much justice because it’s so much deeper than that. I’m not sure I am or that I can articulate well why this build up to Easter makes me feel so ALIVE inside.

Based on what you now know about my excitement about Lent, you probably guessed that I was in attendance at the Ash Wednesday service this morning.  And I brought The Boss Lady. By myself.

Now, if Lent is a time of penance for our sins, I feel pretty strongly that enduring church with Olivia should be considered part of my penance. I mean, I cannot tell you how many church services Mike and I have endured with her where we wanted the floor to just open up and swallow us before we died of embarrassment.

Olivia is not a quiet kid. Or a calm kid. Or the kind of kid who listens to instructions very well. Like right now, she’s watching a movie as I type this and we are about 15 minutes into the movie and she’s gotten up no fewer than 7 times.

At some point during mass she is jumping up and down on the pews or singing The Wheels on the Bus at the top of her lungs or demanding water/goldfish/jellybeans/whatever. Last Sunday, the priest said something about Jesus having given his body up for us and in the dead quiet of the church Olivia loudly pronounced, “How sad.” After nearly every song she claps loudly and asks, “All done?”

Don’t get me wrong, some of that’s just funny. I’ll admit there have been many times when I had to turn my head or bury my head in my hands and just laugh, shoulders shaking, trying so hard not to let her see that I think she’s funny.  

But sometimes it’s just exhausting. Like this morning when she was making weird noises with her mouth. And have you ever been in a Catholic church? They echo. A lot. So, I asked her to stop. So she said “NO!” So, I knelt down and in my Scary Mommy Quiet Whisper said “If your behavior does not improve, do you know what is going to happen?” And my little angel child danced around and in a sing song voice said “TIME OUT! TIME OUT! TIME OUT!”  I was stumped. What now? She knew the consequence and clearly she didn’t give a crap. I was flustered with not knowing how to respond to that. I was flustered that I was trying to enjoy my favorite service and I just couldn’t with all of the NOISE going on. I was just really, really flustered. And embarrassed. Because every time the ladies in front of my glanced back in our direction I just KNEW they were not appreciative of the chaos erupting behind them.  

So, okay, I know what you are thinking, “Doesn’t the church have a nursery she can go to during service?” I get that and several people have asked the question and I’ve often wondered myself why we don’t send her to the nursery so we can enjoy the service.

Today, I realized WHY we don’t send her. And it’s not because we love the pain. We don’t send her to the nursery because we don’t believe that kids belong AWAY from mass. Look, I get it if you send your kid to the nursery. It’s SO distracting to have a munchkin around while you are trying to hear the word of God. And we’ve utilized the nursery a time or two when she was younger. But it just didn’t feel right to me.

We WANT Olivia to be a part of our family during church. Yes, our church does offer a children’s message while the priest is giving his message and I think that’s a great thing. We will encourage her to go to that when she’s old enough. The thing I don’t love about the nursery though is that it’s the WHOLE time. What’s the point of going to church as a family if we aren’t actually together during that time? I want Olivia to grow up knowing that we go church as a family and that we hear the message together and celebrate communion together. And the only way she’s going to learn that and know that is if we just do it—even when it’s a whoopin’.

As I sat there in the pew today with Olivia as she demanded “I want to sing another song!” when the choir was finished, I realized that God speaks to us in so many ways. Yes, I wish I could really pay attention to the message and get something from it. Before we had Olivia, I would bring a notebook and take notes so that I could reflect on what was being said. But that’s not my life right now. Right now, my life with a strong-willed, loud, and sometimes embarrassing two and a half year old. Right now, God needs me to take care of HER. He needs me to teach her that being in church as a family is important. He needs me to teach her reverence and respect and penance and all of those things that are so important to me and even more important to Him. But if she isn’t even in the room, HOW is she going to learn those things?

I kind of imagine that if I had a conversation with God and I told Him, “Look, I’m really sorry that I can’t pay attention very well right now. I mean, my kid is kind of insane during church and I’m lucky if we can get through a service without her announcing that she farted,” I think He would say something like, “Um, do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I didn’t have a hand in the creation of this child? Do you think I don’t know what I challenge you with every time you are here? I know,” And then I would just feel silly for ever thinking that God didn’t already KNOW my heart. That He didn’t already know that I want to pay attention but am busy raising Lady Loco to act like a human being. That He didn’t already know the strong willed personality He gave her. He knows. He’s God for crying out loud.

As for the ladies in the pew in front of me this morning: when church ended, they all turned around and said “She’s so cute!” I looked around for the mother and child they were talking to because I knew it wasn’t me and mine. But it was. And they meant it.  

As we were walking to the holy water fount, an elderly gentlemen patted the top of Oli’s head. And when my kiddo reached her fingertips in the water (instead of trying to immerse herself in it as she has done on every previous visit) and crossed herself, I got choked up. Because THAT’S why we keep Olivia in church with us. Because we know that one day, eventually, after we’ve endured more embarrassment than our junior high years combined, she’ll KNOW our faith. She’ll have a deeper understanding and appreciation for all it means to be a Catholic Christian.  

After church and after I dropped Olivia off, I went to work sporting a smudge of ash on my head. As coworkers stopped to politely tell me, “Excuse me, but you have some dirt on your head,” I was not only reminded of this time of penance but of the time that is my life right now. A time of raising Olivia to have an appreciation and love of this time of year. Of raising her to appreciate the death of our Savior that allows us to call ourselves Christians.

My apologies to anyone in our congregation who is put out with The Boss Lady’s clapping, singing, and announcements of her bodily functions. We’re going to keep coming. After all, we’re trying to raise a Christian woman here! And if spending time in church with her is my penance, then, yeah, I’ll take it.
 

Facebook is Porn

This is a thought that’s been circulating in my head for quite some time now but today it REALLY rang true for me. Let me see if I can explain this analogy to you.

Before I got married and had the opportunity to have a love life that was actually satisfying to both body AND soul, I didn’t see what the big deal was about porn. I didn’t personally care for it but I didn’t think it was such a big deal if other people did. Then I started to understand that the problem with porn is that it’s all a bunch lies. And for the people that watch porn all it really accomplishes is creating a skewed view of what real sex is really like. It makes men think that women are willing to bring farm animals and other “equipment” into the bedroom when we’re really not and it makes women think that there’s something wrong with them if they aren’t willing to do those things. Oh, and if you don’t have huge perfectly shaped boobs and a belly you can bounce a quarter off of then you don’t look right either.

As anyone who’s ever been in a loving, trusting sexual relationship knows: porn is a lie. Real sex is often messier and sometimes awkward and I’m still not even sure how anyone manages to mix in any other props when I have a hard enough time keeping all of my limbs where they’re supposed to be. And sometimes your body makes strange noises and your belly hangs down a *little* lower than you’d like, and…well…you know, sometimes sex just isn’t SEXY.

That’s Facebook. It’s porn for life. On Facebook everyone posts the Best of the Best about their lives. Everyone posts wonderful pictures of their kids playing happily together or at the park or they post things like “What a beautiful day that the Lord has made! Went to church, breakfast with the kids, a happy afternoon at home, and then we found a sack of money and rainbows started coming out of our a$$es.” Or you know, something to that effect.

My day today made me hate the porn that is Facebook. I felt very frustrated today. To be honest, I feel that way a lot of days. As I scroll through my Facebook Newsfeed (And why do they call it a “newsfeed” anyway?? Rarely do I find anything newsworthy in my scrolling.), I see pictures of my friends and their families and everyone looks so stinkin’ HAPPY. And I started to wonder “Why didn’t MY day go like that??”

I work full time in an office and ALL FREAKING WEEK I look forward to the weekend. I look forward to sleeping in and leisurely eating breakfast with Mike and Oli and then just doing what we *want* to do all weekend. And, inevitably, at some point, sometimes multiple points, in the weekend, I am counting down the hours until I can go back to work!!! Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I feel like I can’t freaking win in this game.

This morning was one of the ones I counted down to all week. At around 7:30, I heard a scratching noise beside my bed. I groggily opened one eye to find The Boss Lady standing beside my bed, scratching the sheets. Weird, right? But that really wasn’t so bad. We got up and made some coffee and hot chocolate and watched Shrek, which, you know, I always enjoy because I’ve only seen it 4,589 times.

We made waffles and bacon with Mike and basically enjoyed our morning. Since the weather was going to be incredible today, I surfed the internet to see what might be going on in this ginormous city we live in and found that one of the local museums was having a Family Day until 2. A Family Day??? Boy, did that sound swell for our family! I mean, what family doesn’t enjoy a good ole’ fashioned Family Day?

Like a herd of turtles, we raced out of the house and into the car and drove 20 minutes to our destination. We got out of the car and this lady walks up and asks if we want her parking pass so we don’t have to pay for parking. Score! What an incredible day so far! We start walking to the museum and the weather was just gorgeous. The sun was shining, there was just enough breeze, and the temperature was perfect. We held our sweet girl’s hands as we walked.

When we got there, there was so much activity! There were booths with face painting and calligraphy and origami and kids playing everywhere. “Olivia, what would you like to do?” I excitedly asked. “I want to climb the stairs,” she answered matter-of-factly. And so, while Family Day activities ensued around us, we climbed the stairs. Up the stairs. Down the stairs. Up the stairs. Down the stairs. How is it I continue to show up at these things without a flask?

I got a break though because 2 year old bladders aren’t very big so she had to go potty pretty soon and off we headed to the one thing in this world that literally causes me recurring nightmares: A Public Restroom.

But my kid isn’t afraid of any public restroom, oh no! In fact, the way she acts, you’d think a public restroom was the most fun place on earth. After like 15 minutes of yelling “Stop touching things!” and swatting her hand away from the tampon trash can I finally get us out of there with only minor feelings of my skin crawling with germs. On a side note: anyone know where I can by a hazmat suit?

Anyway, eventually we moved on with the promise of going to the park. We walked around a sculpture garden where my sweet girl found—you guessed it: MORE STAIRS! Another promise of the park and now promises of ice cream and we were off again.

Arrival at the park started out a little better. This is a new park that opened in October (I think) and it is really very cool. It’s built above a highway and there’s tons of grass and tables and chairs and lots of room to move around. There’s a playground and it looks like they are even building an amphitheater. They even have these books/newspaper/game stands where you can grab a board game or a book and sit and play or read. I mean, this place is COOL. And the best part is all of these yummy food trucks sitting nearby waiting to make your day even better.  

So, Olivia gets excited about the fountains (yep, fountains too!) so we head over and take off her shoes and socks and roll up her pants legs and then she decides she doesn’t want to go in the fountains because there are too many kids there. So, we walk to the food trucks and we buy some cupcakes and we eat those and that was okay. But then she tells us she wants to go play. Off we go again and we just let her lead the way and she walks right up to where the construction crew is working on the amphitheater and demands to play there. “Where?” I ask. “There,” she demands, pointing up at the scaffolding. Um…no? Really? This HUGE INCREDIBLY COOL PARK AND MY KID WANTS TO PLAY ON THE SCAFFOLDING???

We convinced her to try the play area again and she’s good for all of 37 seconds until she decides she likes NOTHING there so we start to walk again but she doesn’t want to actually leave the play area so she starts to throw a fit. So we leave her there and just walk away and she follows us stomping her feet and making pissed off animal-with-its-foot-stuck-in-a-trap noises and finally Mike just throws her over his shoulder and we head back to the car.

Yay, Family Day.

We weren’t in the car 7 minutes when Olivia completely passed out. I was nearly in tears. WHY couldn’t WE have a family day? Why couldn’t we be one of the families that was playing and having fun in the beautiful sunshine? “WHY???” Mike and I spent most of the car ride discussing whether or not this was normal 2 year old behavior or whether Olivia was just one of those kids who’s on those Sweet Sixteen shows and their parents have spent all this money on an elaborate party and the kid is in the parking lot throwing a screaming hissy fit because they got a BMW instead of a Mercedes for their birthday. We wondered if our plans to take her to Disney World in the next couple of years should just be thrown out now to avoid a massive meltdown at an amusement park that costs like a gajillion dollars to get into.

Here’s the crazy thing though: ALL of Olivia’s school reports are FANTASTIC. I’m serious. The teachers are constantly telling us how great Oli is and how well behaved and one of her teachers even got really brave once and told me that she had literally never heard Olivia cry. WTH???? How is that even possible? What are we doing WRONG???

We were supposed to go meet some of Oli’s classmates for a play date later in the afternoon and we stopped back at the house before heading there. When we got home, Olivia woke up and immediately started crying and telling me how tired she was. I asked if she needed to go potty and she definitively told me no. Three minutes later, I was cleaning up a puddle of pee and getting a new pair of Minnie Mouse panties. UGH.

In my hopes that we might get a little break from The Afternoon That Turned To Crap, we opted to skip the play date. I put Olivia in her bed and told her to rest her eyes if she was so tired. She pulled her blankets up to her chin and rolled over. I breathed a sigh of relief, went into the living room, and sank into the couch. Not 5 minutes later, in she comes, crying AGAIN. So, I take her back to her room and decide to lay down with her hoping that will help.

But she laid there, wiggling around, asking me 10,000 questions about everything under the sun, taking her socks off and putting them on her hands as gloves. Eventually, Mike came in to check on us and he laid down too. But then she got up. So, it was just me and Mike in Oli’s bed, clinging to each other for dear life and The Boss Lady running around her room making a sound like a siren.

I pulled out my phone and opened up Facebook and then that just made things worse. Because there were all of my “friends” talking about their perfect day with their perfect kids and their perfect lives and there I was laying in a toddler’s bed while the toddler was running around the room with no pants or panties on and socks on her hands singing The Wheels on the Bus.

Mike and I just looked at each other and laughed. But not in a funny way. In the crazy way. Like how you just don’t know what else to do because you are exasperated. And as I watched Olivia turn herself around in circles until she fell on the floor saying “I’m busy (dizzy),” I wondered ‘Is 3:30 too early to open a bottle of wine?’

At one point, Mike said “This is why boarding schools used to be so popular.” I laughed hysterically. That man cracks me up sometimes.

Look, we love our kid. TONS. She is actually a lot of fun but (and I HATE adding that “but”) lately I feel like everything we do is a crap shoot with her. Every day is a roller coaster of laughter/crying/laughter/crying/laughter/crying and I am just kind of spent on the Bipolar-ness that is Toddlerhood. It’s so freaking exhausting. And I wonder if all of my Facebook friends feel that way too or if their lives really are as serene and perfectly played out as they present in photos. And I wondered if my posts ever made others feel that way too. But I don’t *think* so…I mean, most of my posts aren’t “It’s a beautiful day in our house!” Most of my posts are something like “Just wrestled Olivia’s panties on her for the 87^th time in the middle of church and then tried to convince her to stop yelling ‘I farted’ at lunch.”

I’m sure I have posted some of the “perfect” posts that I am so envious of. Us parents LOVE to showcase the good, after all. Even if the Win column is less populated than the Loss, we will hang on for that one day that goes just as planned.

And I really NEED one of those days right now! Just one freaking time I would love to have that *perfect* Family Day.

You know, I remember my mom just being at her wits’ end when we were kids and we were all going somewhere together and she just yelled “We ARE going to do this as a family and we ARE going to have fun, dammit!!!!” as two of my sisters and I sat in the back seat of the car fighting/complaining/whining/crying/whatever. I totally get that now.

I’m realizing though that the fantasy Family Day in my head is just a bunch of porn.

This evening, as Mike and Olivia got ready for their daddy-daughter date night, I had a *tiny* realization that I hope will stick with me the next time we attempt a Family Fun Day. I watched Oli grab her purse and talk excitedly about eating chicken nuggets and playing with her daddy. I watched her run around the house getting her baby ready for the date as well. I took a little solace in the fact that I would have at least an hour to myself tonight. And I realized that, in the same way that real sex is way better than porn, real parenthood is way better than the fantasy in my head.

Okay, yeah, I’d much rather have a day in the park without a single moment of whining. But then I’m not sure I’d have as much an appreciation for the times that we are at home, just being together. Not perfect, but together. Listening to Olivia sing ‘TinkleTinkle Little Tar’ or running around with just a t-shirt and nothing else  and acting like we are the ones who are strange or watching my sweet husband give The Boss Lady their “reservation” print out for their date to put in her purse.

And I don’t know that I’d have the same appreciation for the incredible man I am blessed to call my husband. A man who makes me laugh when I want to cry. A man who takes his daughter for a date. A man who brought me a glass of wine saying, “I poured myself some too. But I poured you more.” The fantasy Family Day in my head may not involve any whining. But the real Family Day involves a man who is currently zipping his daughter up in her Elmo hoodie and getting ready to spend an evening eating chicken nuggets and playing on a playground.  Oh, and giving me a *tiny* bit of time to myself. And just like real sex is better with a loving partner, real parenthood is WAY better with a partner I can trust, lean on, and who doesn’t mind if occasionally I don’t always have it together. A partner who doesn't scold me for having unrealistic expectations and who always helps me to see the beauty of the reality. We may not make this gig look “sexy” and we may have looked ridiculous being the ONLY family at the park carrying a kicking and screaming child out BUT we focus on the beauty that is our life and we even manage to laugh and have a little fun.  

The picture perfect Family Day