Oh be careful little ears . . .

I learned an important lesson today.  One that I should have learned a while ago.

Margo sees, hears and repeats everything.

Today I am a bit of a grump.  I don’t want to be the grown up.  I would  rather write and read the day away with the kids.  Instead I had to clean.  A lot.  I have to be available for the plumber so he can fix those drips and clogs that have been plaguing us since we moved in.  And since I had to stick around the house waiting for the plumber we had the air conditioning unit serviced.

Then it was time for bills.  Which means I had to balance the checkbook.  Which is never an easy task because we aren’t the most organized when it comes to the checkbook.  As I said, it is a bit too much adult responsibility for one day.  On top of it all, I am getting a cold that sweet Margo gave me.

Which leads me back to why I should remember that Margo sees, hears and repeats everything.  When I was picking up Isaac I was on the phone gently reminding my husband how much I love doing all these grown up tasks.  He unfortunately asked how my morning was going.  The teacher brought Isaac over to the van and when she opened the door Margo tells the teacher, “Mommy is frustrated.  She is really really frustrated.  She has too much to do.”

We had a good chuckle over that, because I can’t shush her in front of her future teacher can I?  But I was embarrassed, because apparently Margo caught the tone in my voice.

Thank God that was all she repeated, because I know what I let slip when my irritation meter is super high.    Because the next phrase won’t be as innocent as Mommy’s frustrated.

What do your kids love to repeat that you would rather they would keep quiet about?

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Can I Get a Little Philosophical?

 

“If you saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if you saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, and the greater his effort the heavier the world bore down upon his shoulders – What would you tell him?”

-John Galt, Atlas Shrugged

I used to answer this question with an emphatic “SHRUG”  but life has changed.  I am older, I have kids, and I see the world differently.  But that quote still makes me stop and think every time I see it.

Can you imagine the weight of the world?  All the tragedy, war, and destruction bearing down on you while you keep pushing up.  It breaks you down, but you still keep fighting.  The more you hold it up, the heavier it gets.  Have you ever loved something that much?  Have you ever fought for something that hard?

I want to teach my kids that quote, not because I am going to raise a bunch of Objectivists, but because I want to teach my kids not to shrug. To love this imperfect world so much that they keep holding it up and hopefully with that love, making it a little lighter.

What is the one quote you want your children to know?

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All growed up

Margo loves to speak in the 3rd person and will often say, “Margo all growed up mommy.  Margo can do it myself.”  If it wasn’t so cute I would correct the horrible grammar.

But, Margo is getting older.  I can’t deny that fact anymore.  This morning she ran into the bedroom yelling, “Mommy, wake up!”  I rolled over and realized I had to look up instead of down.

When did she get so tall?

Yesterday she refused to ride in the grocery cart as I made my way through Target and Whole Foods.  In her incredibly clear voice she insisted she wasn’t a baby and needed to walk.  2 months ago that would have been a frustrating experience.  She would stop every few feet and try to throw something else in the cart.  Now she speeds ahead in the opposite direction from me singing, “Race me mommy, race me!”

In the swings at the park her feet almost touch the ground as she swoops back and forth in the baby swing.  Instead of hanging back with me on our walk around the lake she clambered up onto the stone wall with her big brother.   She even scaled “the spiderweb”  as the kids call it, or I what I think of as the deathtrap made from ropes.

I can’t even think of her as a toddler anymore.

I have mixed feelings about this.  I love the fact that she is potty trained, gets snacks for herself and  dresses herself every morning, even if it is in the same neon yellow shirt and pants.  Next fall she is off to school and I fondly dream of the 3 straight hours to myself every morning while ALL THE KIDS ARE AT SCHOOL!  The bliss.  The joy.

The quiet.

However, my baby is growing up and she is the last baby in our house and that is bittersweet.  I am ready to be a mom of school age kids, but I am also going to miss the quiet afternoons of reading on the couch together and snuggling up for naps. (if I am going to be nostalgic I will only remember the good times)

Soon I will be entering new territory as a mom and as much as I am excited for what the future brings, I am going to miss the baby and toddler years more than I thought.

(If you are my family you are probably laughing your hinies off  or wondering if someone needs to call my therapist.  I assure you, I am okay.  The nostalgia will pass as soon as Margo wakes up from her nap)

What do you miss or will you miss about your baby/toddler?

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Can nothing gold stay?

 

 

I was going to write about how we all need a little retreat.  This weekend I was away at our Church’s Women’s retreat and it was an awesome time.  But then I got home.  And life happened.

I forgot my coat at the retreat center in PA.  3 hours away.

My hair dryer died before my hair was brushed out.

I realized that the meals I deliver each month to a homeless program was scheduled for today and not next week like I thought.  (darn my inability to count)

Then the babysitter cancels for tonight.

Then I can’t get a hold of the back up babysitter

The sewer/water bill that I didn’t know was a quarterly bill, finally showed up today.  And it was for way more than I had budgeted.  (again math!)

I wasn’t at Job level, sure, ( I have checked the skies to make sure there are no meteors heading our way) but it was a morning and afternoon filled with frustrations.  I really shouldn’t complain, should I?  But it seems unfair that after a weekend of renewal and exhilaration I couldn’t keep the afterglow for more than an hour.  My plan for the afternoon is shot.  The clothes I had hoped to finish washing I am now woefully behind on.  The date night I had been looking forward to all weekend is now gone.  And to top it all off, I forgot to make meals for homeless families who count on it.

Then that voice whispers, just think what the afternoon would have been like if you hadn’t gone away for the weekend.  Scary Mommy was nowhere around.  I got to snuggle with the kids on the couch and read stories.  My husband and I didn’t argue about which one of us got to go to pottery tonight (unless you count. ” No you go.  No, I insist you go.  Really, you should go”)  And I called my contact at the shelter and I can make the meals for the families next week and it was okay.

As I thought about everything that had happened, I realize that I answered truthfully a question we were posed this weekend.  How did I feel my well being was?  Joyful.  I know tough times are ahead, as they always are, but I can handle them.  Because I am more than okay.  I have joy.  Two years ago if you would have asked me that question, I would not have said good or joyful.  Four years ago would have been even bleaker, and 6 years ago, on my first retreat I probably would have been a blubbering mess.  Not probably.  I was a blubbering mess.

Every time I get away to one of these retreats, I am changed.  God pokes me and asks me to relinquish some part of myself and he changes it for the better.  If I didn’t allow myself a weekend like this every 2 years I don’t think I would ever change, I would be stuck in the muck of the everyday instead of being able to lift my head up and see a different path.

That is not to say I am not frustrated by the last 12 hours.  No one is calling me Pollyanna and if one more thing happens I might chuck it all and take a nap.  But I am okay.  Overall my life is good.  I am  more relaxed today than I was when I left for Pennsylvania on Friday.  Life is never going to be perfect.  Life is still going to happen.  Life isn’t always going to go the way I have planned.

But I am a changed person, a better person and because of that I am free from the expectations that kept me in the muck for so long.

And that is my afterglow.  Thankfully, it is one that won’t disappear with the sun.

How do you handle the everyday frustrations?  When was the last retreat you had?

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Book Review: Parenting: Illustrated with crappy pictures by Amber Dusick

 

image from amazon.com

Crappy Pictures is one of my favorite blogs.  The posts are short and hilarious.  Many times they hit close to home.  Maybe too close to home.  So I was excited when I heard that Amber Dusick had a book coming out.  And I finally got my copy from the library.  I wish I could say I bought it, but I am an ex-librarian and I still do 99% of my reading from library books.

But I do think this will be my new baby gift for parents.  Because it is funny and honest.  I dislike parenting books where the author acts like they have it all together.  I don’t want to hear about how your kids never makes a mess, are always polite, and never do the disgusting acts that my kids do daily.

But Amber is honest.  It is a quick read and she doesn’t bore us with her birth stories or what happened at every age.  I was able to read this book easily while ignoring my kids and didn’t feel guilty about it because it was so quick.

I think many of us can relate to her travel stories, eating, or poop stories.  Get the book for the poop stories alone.  Although not everyone may find poop as funny as me.  I am grateful that she can find the funny in the everyday life of raising young kids.

And her 50 laws of parenting are dead on.  And I love that the pictures are, well, crappy.  I would hate for her to be funny and artistically talented as well.

There are a lot of great blogger books out there right now, but currently this is my fav, knocking True Confessions of a Scary Mommy off of my top blogger books.  If you are looking for a quick, light read, that will keep you laughing this is a great choice.  If you are looking for advice on how to raise your kids.  Well.  This might give you ideas of how those advice books turn out.

The views are my own, no one asked me to review the book, and I received nothing but laughs for reviewing it.

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Too loud Mommy!

Too loud Mommy, is a frequent refrain I hear from my kids.  And they aren’t talking about my rousing renditions of On Top of Old Smokey.

Do you ever get in that place where you yell?  A lot.  Without meaning to?  Unfortunately for my kids, they are often the recipients of my bad mood, although I am an equal rights kinda gal, so my husband receives his fair share.  I have even been known to yell at a door or 2.

Almost always my yelling has nothing to do with whatever happened.  Rebecca not making her lunch, is usually more annoying after I have discovered the checkbook doesn’t balance. That door I am so angry with only got in my way after I stressed out about uncertainty in life.  Why am I so angry with my husband?   It could be because I cleaned up poop for the second time that day.

For a long time I felt guilty about the sudden outbursts.  Yelling is not what I want my kids to remember about me.  With a lot of work, I have been lessening the amount of scary mommy moments, and stopping the anger (fear, sadness, frustration, etc) before it spills over and effects people around me.

I have read the Orange Rhino Blog pretty faithfully and I applaud her for trying to change her family tree.  She avoids yelling at all costs.  Admirable.  But I can’t do that.  So I have found a good way to handle the moments when I lose control and focus on what I can teach my kids when that happens?

Ask for forgiveness.

My kids thought it was funny at first, or a trap.  They would snicker as I got down to their level and apologized for going ballistic over a banana on the floor.  I would share why I was upset and why it actually had nothing to do with the banana on the floor.  And then I ask for their forgiveness.

It has made a huge difference in our relationship.  I admit my mistake, try to do better, but allow my kids to see that even adults screw up.  I want my kids to see that even if I am angry, I still love them and my behavior wasn’t acceptable.  Rebecca would often counter my apologies with, “That’s okay Mom”  And I want her to know the behavior wasn’t okay, but we can move past it.

This has even trickled down to interactions between Michael and I.  Especially if we are in front of the kids.  If I yell, I ask for forgiveness.  We have even started to do that when they aren’t around, because let’s face it, that is what we should be doing anyway.

My hope is that the kids are able to handle their own anger productively in the future.  If they never see me angry, how will they know what to do when those emotions bubble up inside them?

We could all probably use less yelling in our lives, but it is also important to model to our kids how to handle the anger.

How do you handle strong emotions in your house?

 

 

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Take a deep breath, and run

I am not a Boston qualifier, nor will I ever be.  I have accepted that fact in my life.  However I believe there are 2 routes that will allow me to fulfill my dream of running this epic race: As a volunteer runner or when I am an octogenarian.

But I am a runner and my heart was heavy when I heard the news from Boston yesterday afternoon.  It was hard to see the destruction of someone’s dream and it was hard to not be afraid of what this will do to racing in America.

Running is special.  I can’t think of many other activities that cause me so much pain and so much joy at the same time.  It has to be special other wise runners wouldn’t turn out every weekend in rain, snow, sleet, hail, and on those rare blessed days of sun.   It is a sport that takes a lot of heart and a lot of determination.  If it didn’t, why would people go out mile after mile when their bodies told them to quit 5 miles ago.  Running makes me remember how thankful I am to be alive and healthy so I am able to move my body the way God planned.

Runners are special people.  Every weekend I get the chance to nod in solidarity to other runners who knows what it feels like to be 8 miles into a 12 mile run.  They get it.  They know the excitement of race day and the feeling of exhilaration when thousands of runners are packed together doing something they love.  We get up before the sun and stand out in chilly weather waiting for the sound of the starting gun.  We cheer for each other, encourage each other, and share our horror stories of injuries and nagging pains.   I have always been proud to count myself in the ranks of the middle of the pack racers, because we slog it out mile after mile despite the amount of time it takes us to get to the finish.

They know what it is like to cross a finish line.  To draw in a deep breath of victory over whatever you run from.

I came to the sport a little later than most.  But it has changed my life in a huge way.  This morning I headed to the gym to pound out my speedwork.  Something that I struggle with each week.  But today I thought of each repetition as a finish for those who didn’t were denied that opportunity.  It was a finish for all those runners who trained, perspired, fought through pain and exhaustion but didn’t get the chance to cross the line that means so much more than finishing.

I am a runner and as long as I am able, I will keep on running.

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9 excuses I have used to get out of my long run

A day of running I had no excuse.

We all have them, days that running is the last thing you want to do.  I bet even Kara Goucher does it.  Of course she probably has a real excuse and not made up ones.  Wait it is her job to run, she probably shouldn’t have any excuses.

Since I am not a professional runner, here are my top 9 excuses for not heading out for my long run.

“The kids will miss me.”  Of course if I were doing something that wasn’t going to hurt, I would say, screw the kids I am going shopping.  Apparently distance running makes my heart grow fonder.

“Hey honey, why don’t you snuggle me.”  My husband of course is always torn, because he knows it is just an excuse to not run.  But he is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I should really scrub the bathroom.”  Sure it has been dirty for a few days, but a few days ago I didn’t have to run 10 miles.

“I’ll read stories to Margo until she poops on the potty.”  Any other day of the week I will beg anyone else to sit there and make sure she doesn’t get off.  Long run day.  No problem, I will sit here as long as it takes.

“I don’t want to shower again.”  It seems reasonable, until it is apparent the only reason I showered in the first place was to avoid running.

“But then I can’t eat this 5 guys burger I am about to devour.”  Yes, that is seriously my excuse.  Have you ever run after eating a burger?  Not recommended.  I unfortunately know this from experience and yes I am a moron.

“Ooh, I should really balance the checkbook.”  There is nothing more horrendous than trying to balance our checkbook.  We have switched bank accounts before just to have a fresh start.  But Saturday morning, sure I will tackle that hot mess.

“I just had my hair done.”  You don’t want to mess up a perfectly good blow out, do you?

My allergies are bad today and it will mess up my contacts”  Who cares if I have glasses.  I hate my glasses.  Who cares if I have one day disposable contacts, I don’t want to waste money, do I?  Completely justifiable reason to not run.

I am sure I have way more excuses than that.  In fact I know I do.  Really I should have my sister or husband  right this post for me because they have heard them all.

What is your favorite excuse for not getting out and pounding the pavement?

 

 

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No easy questions in parenting

I have a feeling that Isaac is going to be a philosopher or a physicist.

When I became a new parent I read up on the typical questions that kids ask:  Why is the sky blue, where do clouds come from, etc.  I didn’t want to have pat answers to serious questions.

Isaac has broken my model.  He doesn’t ask simple questions like where does water come from.  He asks these deep questions that are really hard to explain to a 5 year old.

The other night he was crying at bedtime.  He wanted to know what happened when we died.  Right.  Easy answer, we go to heaven and be with God.  That doesn’t satisfy him.  Because if that is true, what will we look like, how will we find each other, where will we be?  But then he wants to know if I will be there and what I will look like.  He has heard the Easter story a lot of times in his 5 years and he wants to know if we come back like Jesus.  There are no easy answers to his questions.

He doesn’t take the Bible stories at face value, and how do you explain the abstract to a preschooler who is a concrete thinker.  While it broke my heart, I am really happy that he is thinking about these concepts.

Rebecca always just accepted our parenting answers at face value, but I can never remember her asking the hard stuff.  Isaac though, he wants to understand why people hate, or why people die, or where we were before we were on earth.

Does he know that energy can’t be created or destroyed?

I have found the best answer to be, I don’t have know.  When adults pretended to know everything when I was a kid it frustrated me.  That gives me an opportunity to say what I believe and why I believe that.  If I had just said we go to heaven and leave it there, I would have had no chance to tell him about my faith.  Whether I am right or wrong is not the point.  Each of us needs to discover faith on our own and he needed to see my example of that.

My parting advice to him, was that I believe even when we don’t know what is going to happen we know that God is good and he promises to never leave us.  Whatever tough questions, worries, or hurts, we have we are confident that God is our bedrock and will hold us up no matter what we face.

When Isaac and I have these deep conversations, I don’t project upon him my own fears or concerns.  It is important for him to understand he can ask these questions and sometimes there are answers and sometimes there are not.  But he is always able to ask.

Some days, I wish Isaac would ask me where babies come from, that I can answer.  But then again I am glad he is so inquisitive because it allows me to have a real conversation with him and figure my philosophy out at the same time.  Hopefully that questioning nature will stay with him through his life.  Because it is an important trait to have in life.

I just wish he would give me some time to prepare.

What is the toughest question your kid has ever asked?

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Party Rock is in the House Tonight

Okay, so that is a frequent song  sung by my 2 and 5 year old.  And for some reason it got stuck in my head when I read about the Ultimate Blog Party 2013.  This is my first time linking up with a blog party, so if you are new here thanks for visiting.  If you are a regular visitor thanks for reading!

The only pictures of me are while I am running, apparently I have to travel to Florida to get a picture.

I try to write about parenting struggles with a side of humor.  For a long time I took myself too seriously as a parent and that didn’t work for me, so I started writing.  Now I can look at those frustrating parenting moments and say, “Hey, that would be an awesome blog post!”  Sometimes I write about current topics that relate to parenting and occasionally I write about my weight maintenance struggles and running.

Just a little about me, I am SAHM to 3 kids ranging in ages from 2-8.  For the longest time I hated the term SAHM, but it is growing on me.  Although I still have a wild urge to recite my resume when asked what I do.  In case you are wondering I have worked in state politics, been a bookseller, and children’s librarian.  While the kids are young I am trying to figure out the next stage of my life.  In the meantime, I write.  It is just as good as therapy.

Here are a few posts that might help you get to know me better.  If you are new please feel free to comment and let me know where you blog.  Always looking for some mommy blogging solidarity to help me get through the long days.

Letter to My Younger Self

Playdate Hookups

If You Can’t Beat Them

Parenting 101:  My kids are spazzy spazzies, what should I do?

I do write some serious things every once in a while.  I promise.

 

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