I am who I am

Tonight I had the pleasure of spending a happy hour with my team at work. They really are a great group and I am blessed to work with such genuine and wonderful people. I mean that sincerely. I've worked in a lot of different situations and teams in the 11 years I've been in the workforce and this team I'm on now is made of up of some quality folks. 

As we ate dinner and enjoyed our drinks we all got to talking about life and work and everything in between. And the subject of this blog came up and some of my coworkers know about it and others don't and on the drive home I started to get a little anxious about how much I share here since it's accessible to pretty much anyone. But then I stopped and realized that it doesn't really matter what I share on here because if you ever met me, you'd pretty much figure it all out in about 12 seconds anyway. 

Whether I am on this blog or out with family or hanging with friends of working with my team, I am the same person. There's not a Me for this certain occasion or a Me for that occasion. I'm just Me at all times in all circumstances. It's why I could never be in politics. I just don't have the ability to be anything but ME. 

I'm not sure I had that confidence before I became a mom. There's something about motherhood that has given me the confidence to own who I am at all times. Sometimes I'm funny and sometimes I'm just plain weird. Sometimes I'm outgoing and sometimes I want to be left alone. Sometimes I'm confident to the point of arrogance and sometimes I doubt myself. And this is me. All of me. Complex and a little crazy and just right here for everyone to see. 

So if the whole world is reading this and making their own judgments, that's okay. I know who I am and I'm proud to be that person. I feel blessed to be able to share my life, my struggles, my triumphs. Maybe we live in a world that's a little too buttoned up. Maybe we should share more. Who cares if someone sees you a little off your A-game? I don't need to be perfect but I always need to be sincere. 

For me that means putting my life out here, for all of you to see. It means embracing the woman/wife/mom that I am. It means shaking off the fear of judgement or rejection. Yes, sometimes here I doubt myself or wonder if people will think one thing when I mean something else. I write though because it helps me to process this crazy Land of Parenthood. 

Like I'm sure right now that all of you can understand that I have a Gremlin shouting at me about cheesesticks and how I should get off of the "compuger" so we can watch Barney. I'm not sure that has any deep and wonderful meaning but it's my life and I'll embrace that too! 

A NOT so ordinary day...

This afternoon, while Mike and I were at work and Oli was at school, our home was broken into. Like I said, we were not home so we are okay. Mike got a call around 3:30 this afternoon from a detective and their conversation went a little like this: 

Detective: May I speak to Mike please?

Mike: This is Mike.

Detective: Mike, I have an ipad here and a laptop and some jewelry and I'm just wondering if you have reported a recent theft of some personal items. 

Mike: No, no I haven't reported anything. But I better go home now because if you have those things, it means my house has been broken into. 

The detective sent an officer to meet him at the house and they found that our back door to our pool had been shattered. It is entirely glass so there was glass everywhere. The pieces-of-crap-who-are-too-lazy-to-get-a-job-and-buy-their-own-stuff had emptied a gym bag of Mike's and stuffed every piece of jewelry I own (except for my engagement and wedding rings--I wear those every day), some electronics and itunes gift cards into it and fled. They opened and emptied several drawers in their quest for my things. They went into our guest room and emptied drawers. They went into my daughter's room. That is the only action of theirs that puts me into a boiling rage. 

Apparently the two young men responsible for this had been going around our neighborhood this afternoon knocking on doors to see if anyone was home. One of our neighbors answered the door and when the guys didn't have a good reason for having knocked, she trusted her instinct that they did not belong and she called the police. The police showed up in the neighborhood shortly after our house was robbed, found the two guys in their van, and arrested one of them. The other, unfortunately, got away. 

Every single item of ours that they took was in that van and was returned to Mike. I can't even begin to be thankful enough for that blessing or for the neighbor who trusted her gut and made the call to the police. 

I was in a training class until 5 today so Mike was unable to reach me. I had plans to pick up Oli this evening  because Mike had another obligation and when I got ready to leave I saw that I had a text from Mike to call him when I had a chance. When I called he told me what happened. By then he already had people out fixing the glass and he was cleaning up the mess. 

I got home to find that my sweet husband had vacuumed up all of the glass and picked up all of the mess. The only thing he left out was my jewelry so I could take inventory. Funnily enough, as I was looking through my jewelry, I noticed they had taken several of our rosaries as well (at least 6. what? we're Catholic, we have a lot of rosaries). How's that for karma??? 

As I sit here writing this, my house looks like nothing bad happened at all. 

And through it all, Olivia was majorly whiney tonight and got sent to time out at least twice. Herein lies the lesson for tonight: No matter what is going on in life, your kid will keep you grounded enough not to completely lose it. While my head was spinning and I just wanted to sit on the floor and stare into space, my child needed to be cared for. That's what kept us on track tonight. That's what motivated my sweet Mike to clean up the house so quickly and so well. When we got home he said, "I didn't want Olivia to see our house or her room like that. And really I didn't want you to see it either." I nearly burst into tears. He is such a good man. 

In the Land of Parenthood, you don't get to just check out and sometimes, like tonight, that's a good thing. It keeps you grounded and from getting hysterical when you feel like you are going to lose your mind. It reminds you of the important things. 

When I picked Oli up at school I just felt so thankful that we had not been home. I really like my jewelry and this laptop but I don't love those things. What I LOVE in my life, the "things" I adore are Mike and Olivia. Taking care of Oli in the midst of tonight's chaos gave Mike and I enough glue to keep it all together. 

I don't like at all that two people with evil intentions were in my home today. I especially don't like that they went into my child's room. I feel a little sick just thinking about people doing something so mean to us. BUT this is life. Sometimes crap just happens and we have to stop and be thankful for every day--ordinary or otherwise. And, hey, at least I got a new back door for my birthday! 

I hope the little butthole the police caught enjoys his night sleeping on a cot in county jail. I hope he finds some big burly man to snuggle up with. I, however, will be going to sleep in my nice warm bed. 'Cause, you know, you get to sleep in your own bed when you don't commit class 2 felonies.

Adventures in Potty Training

It's hard to believe that October was the last time we bought a pack of diapers, but it's true. Now we have a panty-wearing potty-using two and a half year old and the money that was once spent on diapers and wipes has been reallocated to our wine & beer budget. 'Cause when you are "potty-training" a toddler, you need wine & beer.

Ever wondered why they call it potty TRAINING? Yeah, I wondered too. Until I did it. Now I get it. You actually have to explain to a tiny human why getting rid of their excrement in a toilet is preferable to just sitting  in it. Apparently Olivia was a breeze to potty train. We don't know since we haven't done this before but, sure, yeah if you say so. I mean, we definitely didn't think it was excruciating but we definitely didn't think it was easy either. I can't count the number of puddles I've wiped up off of our floors because Oli didn't make it to the toilet in time. Though she hasn't had an accident like that in quite a few weeks, we still have mornings where I am washing sheets because she just didn't make it through the night.

All in all it's pretty cool now. I really enjoy having a kid who can go to the bathroom by herself while we are at home...well, mostly. She still hasn't mastered the art of wiping after she poops. We didn't get out of *all* of it with this potty training business but it's a heck of a lot better than diapers. And now that we are a diaper free zone, I just thought I'd share some stories of our journey to get here:

***

Olivia was interested in using the toilet long before she actually mastered using it. On occasion she would actually tell us that she needed to go to the bathroom and we'd hoist her onto the toilet only to find that she really just wanted to unravel the toilet paper. One day, as I was in the shower, Olivia started banging on the door shouting, "I go poo-poo in the potty!!!" "Okay, that's nice," I said. Fast forward 2.7 seconds to me realizing that I couldn't have heard that right because my child didn't know HOW to use the potty on her own and she sure didn't know how to wipe her behind after taking a crap. I flung open the shower door to find The Boss Lady standing there butt naked.

Let me back up for a second: I'm blind as a bat without my contacts and/or glasses on. You know that letter chart at the eye doctor's office? I can't even see the biggest letters. True story.

Anyway, so I see Olivia standing there but I can't really see much. So I ask, "Where is your diaper?" And she points toward the toilet. I quickly finish showering and jump out. In the meantime she's taken off somewhere else. I immediately put in my contacts and turn around to find that my bathroom looks like a massacre occurred. You know, if people bled crap instead of blood when they were cut to pieces. There was the stench of poop in the air mixing with the steam of the shower and creating a nice poop sauna. There was poop smeared all over the toilet and her clothes.

I gasped in disgust, choked back vomit and yelled for Olivia to come back into the bathroom. She came back and I saw there was poop on her too. After about 5-10 minutes of clean up, I realized something was still missing: the diaper! I asked Olivia where it was and she told me she had thrown it in the trash. But she couldn't say *which* trash. So I started looking in and digging through the trash cans in the house and luckily found it. If you have never had the misfortune of getting a whiff of a trash can that has a poop diaper in it, you are very lucky. It's disgusting.

Anyway, I got everything cleaned up and learned a very valuable lesson here that I think most moms learn early on: If you dare to do something by yourself, like shower, the shit will hit the fan.

***

Right after Olivia was officially out of diapers, we went to have breakfast in a nice restaurant. This restaurant is really incredible, I mean the food is just deliciousness.  It's an old home so they've converted part of into a restaurant and the rest into a museum/gift shop. The bad news is that there is always quite a bit of a wait. Like an hour. And anyone who's ever had to wait an hour with a toddler ANYWHERE knows that anything can and will happen. We had been walking around the gift shop/museum there when Olivia told me she had to go to the bathroom. I started to lead her to the bathroom and she was walking a little behind me. I turned around to keep an eye on her as she followed me and found that she had stopped in the middle of the foyer, pulled her pants and panties down to her ankles, and had her shirt nearly pulled over her head. She then yelled, "I NEED TO GO PEE-PEE!!!" Being the good example of a parent that I am, I started laughing uncontrollably as I ushered her into the ladies room.

***

Occasionally, Olivia will say, "I'm so proud of you." When you ask her why, she'll say, "For going poo poo in the potty." And you know, when she says that, I actually do feel *really* proud of myself for going poo poo in the potty. If I have done nothing else right for the day, I have at least done that.

***

We initially tried getting Oli to wear those plastic panties at night so she wouldn't soak the sheets or comforter if she had an accident in the night. They go on over regular panties and they are awesome for parents but they are really awkward. They get hot and sweaty and they make weird crinkling noises so Oli was not a fan. After several nights of her not having had an accident, we decided to let her just sleep without them. We have a waterproof cover on her mattress so we figured we were safe.

One night, Olivia woke up in the middle of the night and ended up in our bed. I was just too tired to fight with her to get her back to her bed and I didn't want to get up and go sleep in her bed with her. So, I just tucked her in next to me and we fell back to sleep.

At some point in the night, I threw my arm over her and my hand splatted in a nice wet spot near the edge of the bed. "GREAT!" I thought in my sleepy stupor. I laid there, completely exhausted, realizing I was going to have to wake up Mike and Olivia in order to get clean sheets on the bed. Not to mention that I would be changing sheets in the middle of the night. Oh, and while we might have a waterproof cover on Oli's mattress, we do NOT have one on ours so I'd be cleaning that up too.

I did the next best thing to all of that chaos: I scooted closer to Mike and his side of the bed, sllid Olivia closer to me, figured my plan to clean all of it up would be just as effective during daylight hours and went back to sleep.

***

Speaking of sleep, Captain Crazy Pants is refusing to settle down without me so I've got to go. Fingers crossed that I don't wake up in a puddle of urine tonight.

An ordinary day

Today I don't really have much to write about. It was a pretty ordinary day. I worked out, went to work, just had dinner with my loves, and now we are about to watch some cartoon to settle The Boss Lady down for the night.

The morning was good, work was good, and aside from quite a bit of whining from a very tired toddler, tonight's been good too. I feel like I don't have anything really profound to share today. That's life though, right? Some days are just ordinary. And it's the ordinary days I love the most.

The vacations and the days that are full of something "special" or even days that are full of drama or upset are just a small part of this journey of life. It's the ordinary days that make up the majority of life. It's in the ordinary that I find peace and joy. It's easy to get a high from pay day or time at the beach or a fun event or whatever else makes you feel excited. Finding the joy in the day to day is often trickier.

We can start to feel restless or complacent with life during the ordinary. I make an effort to relish in the ordinary, to look around at my life and just feel joy at the people in it. Sometimes I walk through my living room in the evening and think "Wow, I really get to live this life."

I will have always have the memory of our family vacations in the form of a photo album or scrapbook. I'm trying though to cement the ordinary memory of my daughter trying to feed me and Mike chicken nuggets "airplane" style or her right now sitting on the couch commenting on her cartoons and singing. I love how every day Olivia and I eat breakfast together and how Mike and I debrief about our day in between Lady Loco's interruptions. Our day-to-day life is incredible.

Huh, look at that--maybe I had something a little profound to say after all.

"Sometimes I don't like my kid," and other $*&t nobody wants to admit

Sometimes I don’t like my kid. There I said it. Okay, for those of you gasping for oxygen and speed dialing some help line for me, allow me to rephrase:  sometimes I intensely dislike Olivia’s behavior. Like right now, she’s been whining for a solid 10 minutes and we literally have no idea why. It’s extremely unpleasant and quite frankly it hurts my freaking ears. So I left the room. If you are reading this and saying “What is she talking about? I ALWAYS like my kid!” you are a damn liar. Yep, I said that too. People, I’m not saying you don’t always love your kid. I ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS love The Boss Lady but sometimes I just wish she would stop her crappy behavior.

Let’s be real here, if you were in a relationship with ANY other person who constantly yelled at you when they wanted something, occasionally threw a shoe/DVD/cup at your head, and often got their excrement on you, every single person you know would tell you to run, not walk, away from that relationship. There are abuse hot lines for that kind of nonsense. Except when it comes to kids. We don’t have an escape. We take the abuse because God geniusly instilled in parents a true unconditional love for their offspring. Haven’t you ever heard that the reason babies look like their dads in the beginning is so the male would bond with their children and not leave them in search of a pina colada, a beach, and some peace and friggin’ quiet. Or something like that. I’m sure I’m misquoting science *a little* here.

At any rate, go ahead and admit it: sometimes, when your kid is being an extra special kind of butthead, you want to just be like “Peace Out Captain Insane-O!” It’s cool, it’s just between us.

You don’t get used to it. Any of it. Before we had Oli, I had a horrid fear of poop. I have a really sensitive gag reflex (like I can’t even brush my tongue without gagging) and I was really worried that at the first sight of poop, I would just faint. Every parent we knew said “Oh, no you just get used to it. It’s not that big of a deal when it’s your kid.” Okay, EARTH TO THE ALL OF YOU CRAZY PEOPLE WHO SAID THAT TO ME: WE ARE STILL TALKING ABOUT HUMAN EXCREMENT HERE!!! I have not gotten used to poop. In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I have gagged when I was changing Olivia’s diaper. I mean like I had to put my lower face in my shirt and inhale in the protection of my shirt to keep from vomiting.

Also, weirdly enough, you don’t get used to the lack of sleep or energy either. You don’t get used to really any of it. You just develop different coping mechanisms. Like wine. Or blogging. Hey, don’t knock ‘em till you try ‘em.

I use my kid to get out of things. Okay, not all things. But like if I don’t want to do something anyway and I know Olivia is going to be an insane person, I’ll just say “Sorry, can’t go, I have a kid who can’t act right today.” I know most of you reading this are wondering, “Has she done that to ME?” Honestly, I don’t know which of you are asking that so I really can’t say. But I’ve done it. Because sometimes I don’t want to do stuff. And saying, “No, I just really don’t want to do that,” seems rude (I’m a Southern girl, we have a thing about being perceived as rude). So I say that I can’t because I have a kid. I suspect that a lot people with kids do this and that’s why there’s a myth that once you  have kids you don’t do anything anymore.

It’s not that those of us with kids can’t do anything anymore, sometimes it’s just that we don’t want to. We’re too busy being tired and cleaning up poop.

A lot of things I do, I do because it’s stuff I wanted to do as a kid. For instance: the zoo. I freaking loved the zoo as a kid but we were poor and poor folks don’t get to go to the zoo. When Olivia was old enough to walk, I went to the zoo and bought our family a fancy dancy zoo membership. The first few times we went, Olivia let us know she was tired about 30 minutes into it and was more interested in the snacks we brought than any of the animals. Kids this young don’t really care about stuff like the zoo. It’s true. Case in point: yesterday I needed to run some errands and nearby to my errand was a pet store. I took Olivia in and she oohed and aahhed at the fish and mice and birds more than she’s ever done toward any of the zoo animals. We have a good time at the zoo and all but really she doesn’t give a crap if we are in the zoo or in a pet store. She just likes animals. But hey, I’m livin’ out my dreams these days as a Once Poor Kid so I’m gonna keep buying the zoo membership and we’re gonna keep going. Because I want to, dammit.

Kids’ shows will turn you into a raging alcoholic. Except Sesame Street. That show’s still bad ass after all of these years. And they have cool people on there like LL Cool J. But the rest of that nonsense is probably only entertaining if you have a hit of acid to go with it. There are just the weirdest damn characters and the weirdest looking people. It’s like our kids are being taught through their tv shows that being a weirdo is cool. I mean there are shows about everything under the sun and they all have a lesson to go with them. Whatever happened to quality cartoons like Tom & Jerry and they used to just run around beating the hell out of each other? Or the Road Runner and Coyote and the hilarious tricks they used to play on each other? Or that awesome Pepe Le Pew (sp?) who taught us that if you smell bad, you will NEVER get a girl to like you? Now, THAT was a good lesson. Oh, and even though I said that Sesame Street is still awesome, I’m pretty sure I saw Cookie Monster eating broccoli the other day! WTF??? Broccoli? He’s the friggin’ Cookie Monster for crying out loud! I’m not sure why all of these shows have to have so much meaning. Whatever happened to just having fun?

No matter how cute or awesome someone tells you they think your kid is, they still think their kid is more so. And it’s true, I’m quite certain that my child is the most incredible child on the planet. I’m sure yours is great , but my kid? Near perfection. Insanity and all. 

The Funny Farm

Oops, I did it again! FORGOT a blog post! Well, I remembered but it was after midnight last night when I did and my eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each so I fell asleep instead of writing. Soooooooo, lucky you, I'm going to do TWO posts today! One now and one later. But don't worry, they'll be short.

Yesterday I had two funny happenings that reminded me a lot of my dad. My dad, Bill, was a really energetic, fun-loving, and funny person. He died just shy of his 42nd birthday but sometimes you would have thought he was 12 with his crazy antics. Finding the joy and humor in life was his forte and I am proud to say I think I've inherited quite a bit of that. Occasionally, like yesterday, I'll find myself doing something super silly and I'll think "Jeez, I'm so much like daddy." It's a good feeling. Being silly and laughing constantly just makes everything in life so much more joyful.

For lunch yesterday, Olivia had some goldfish crackers and I asked her if I could have one and she wanted to do "airplane" with me to feed it to me. I let her do it and acted like I was so excited to get a goldfish. Okay, who am I kidding? Those things are so dang delicious--I actually *was* excited to get a cracker! Anyway, I grabbed one and said "Watch this!" I stood up and started throwing the goldfish in the air and trying to catch it my mouth. It was just Oli and I and for about 10 minutes I did this and we both laughed so hard we could barely breathe. She thought it was utter hilarity! Every time I would throw the cracker in the air and miss she would start giggling uncontrollably. And when I finally caught it, she would excitedly say "Again! Again!" I remember my dad doing that when we were kids. He'd grab whatever food was nearby and start throwing it up and catching it. Only he was WAY better than I am and caught most of them. My sister and I would laugh and keep giving him more things to eat and he would indulge us for I don't even know how long with his trick. I thought he was so funny and entertaining and I was truly impressed by his skill of catching food in mid-air. I felt so happy yesterday afternoon that I could bring some of the joy my dad gave me into my daughter's life. Or at least into the lunch hour.

The other funny moment was at dinner with some very good friends. Mike and I met up with our friends Chris and Christina for dinner at a really nice and swanky restaurant for mine and Christina's birthdays (FYI: mine is in 7 days!). Our birthdays are about a month apart and for the past couple of years we've been meeting up somewhere in the middle of that month for a really nice dinner, no kids allowed. It's become our tradition instead of buying gifts and I look forward to it so much.

Just to give you a little background for this story: Mike and I are very frugal people. Very. One of the things we are especially frugal about is cars. We both drive older, okay just OLD, cars and they are a little jalopy-esque these days. Mike's is a '98 model and mine is an '02. They both have weird issues. Like to start mine, I sometimes have to bang on the dash and pray. I'm serious. On Mike's car, you have to bang on the right headlamp to get it to come on. It's gotten so bad that on Friday night when we were going out, Olivia was getting into my car and said "Just a second," walked to the front of my car, banged on the right headlamp a couple of times and said "I fix it for you, mommy!"

Why don't we buy new cars? Because our cars are paid off and the engines are good...I think...and we have worked in auto insurance for long enough to know that new cars become old cars and that they are one of the most expensive purchases and "assets" yet they DEPRECIATE in value. It's hard for our analytical brains to spend money on something that will not improve our financial state. Yes, we are weird. But our jalopies provide value in entertainment so we'll probably keep them around for a little while longer.

When we drove up in Mike's gem, I was laughing and saying to Mike how I love when we have to valet our cars because they probably aren't anything like most of the cars these valet guys see and I'm sure they are thinking, "Oh, great." We pull up, cracked windshield (I mean like a 3 foot long crack), janked up headlamp and all, and the valet guys were so sweet. They opened my car door, offered me a hand to get out of the car and acted like we were the king and queen of England.

I was telling Christina over dinner how funny it was to pull up to the restaurant in our Flintstone-mobile and Christina says something like "When they bring you your car, you should totally be like 'Our windshield wasn't like that before tonight!'" I thought this plan was genius and would be utterly hilarious.

After dinner, Mike handed the valet guy our ticket and off they went. We stood outside of the restaurant talking with Chris and  Christina and I see our one-eyed-Willie car coming down the street. The valet guy opens my door for me and the other opens Mike's door and Christina points at the windshield and loudly says, "Was that like that before??????" And I whip my head around to where she's pointing and in a horrified voice I yell "What did you DO!!!????!!!" Christina and I dissolved into giggles like a bunch of junior high kids as another couple who was looking on started laughing too. The poor valet guys just looked at me and Mike like they were about to cry...or punch us...I'm not sure actually. On our way home, Christina called me and we proceeded to laugh some more about our little joke like we were the funniest people on the whole planet.

This is one of my favorite things about my friendship with Christina--she brings out the silly in me. I mean there's a lot there anyway but I love that both of us are now in our 30's and act like kids sometimes. Okay, most of the time. I'm not sure if our husbands think we are as funny as we do but we are just gonna keep acting goofy anyway! I think my dad would be proud that I have a friend who encourages constant laughter.

It's easy to get caught up in all of the crazy in this life. I love days like yesterday because they remind me not to take things so seriously. I am reminded that life is about smiling and laughing just for the heck of it. Thanks to my amazing daddy for instilling a love of the silly in my heart. I miss his crazy antics every day.

Love the one you're with...

Today has been a really pretty fantastic day. I had the opportunity to have 2 great conversations with friends—one old, one new.

The first was with a friend with whom I used to work and thankfully have kept in touch with though I have switched jobs twice since we met. We had lunch today and I think maybe the last time I saw her was almost 2 years ago! A lot has changed since then. When she last saw Olivia, she was just learning to crawl and pull up. Now, my friend has her own daughter! I get to keep up with her on Facebook and I’ve loved getting to share in her journey as a new mom. It’s been fun to see the wonderful girl she is raising.

We had so much wonderful conversation today about work and life and parenthood. We were talking about some of the insanity that is motherhood. We have daughters who are very different. My friend’s daughter has been sleeping peacefully through the night since she was like 3 weeks old and she is a pretty easy going kid so far. I don’t mean to diminish any struggles they might have. I’m sure their sweet girl gives them a run for their money at times! And though she sleeps well, their daughter has had a few food issues. Now, she’s only 8 months old so this will likely clear up but I just thought, “Wow, I don’t know what I would have done if Lady Loco had had food issues!” And my friend thought, “Wow, I don’t know what I would have done if my daughter had sleep issues!”

We just laughed at how you always think you know what you can and can’t handle in parenthood and how really you end up handling it no matter what. Because, as my friend put it, God gives you the kid you can handle. So true.

The other conversation was with a brand new friend as of tonight. This new friend is the new husband of a very near and dear friend. This was my first time to meet him and I am so excited I got to! He’s a great fit for her and I’m happy to have him on my list of friends now too!

Tonight, as Olivia was running around us being completely adorable, he said that his wife had told him that we didn’t baby talk Olivia and he just really liked that. We talked about how kids are people too and how they should be treated like the grown-ups we want them to eventually become (with some limitations of course, but all the same).

His own daughter is in a wheelchair due to cerebral palsy and he said one of the most ridiculous things that people do is that they walk up to her and baby talk her or speak really slowly like she’s hard of hearing—even though she’s 19! He shared with me that it’s taken him and her a while to find an appropriate response for this but they have found a way to be comfortable in those situation. He also told me that he really loves and appreciates his daughter for all that she is—wheelchair included.

It struck me tonight that this is one of the key elements to finding joy in Parenthood: love your kid NO MATTER who they are.

Some kids are going to have sleep issues and some are not. Some will be super geniuses and some will struggle or simply be ‘average.’ Some will be physically strong and some will be physically challenged. The point is, as my friend at lunch put it, God gives us the kid we can handle.

And I’ll stop to admit that I have no idea what it’s like to have a special needs child or a child with a handicap. But I hope I’ll have the peace and gratitude for the life of my child like my new friend this evening does for his child who lives every day in a wheelchair.  I hope I continue to have the peace and gratitude for my child with all of her current insanity.

It’s no use comparing your kid to others—you get what you see. Kids are the most incredible kind of person because they are exactly as they appear. They aren’t like us adults with all of our layers and our baggage and our issues. They are just themselves at all times.

I’m confident enough to say that my sweet Boss Lady has some traits that some folks may think they couldn’t live with. But while she and we may not be perfect, our little family is perfect for each other.