My "things I'm thankful for" lists are typically unconventional, so if you're expecting, well, anything... you may or may not be right. Every year since 2009, I've taken the time to point out those things I'm thankful for. November gives me the perfect platform, but rest assured, I'm thankful for most of these things all year long. Without further ado, I bring you
2014
- I'm thankful for family. For people who choose to be part of mine.
- I'm thankful for friends... and especially for those friends who take that extra leap and become family.
- I'm thankful for my children... and my dog.
Now that those standard things are out of the way... let me get more specific.
I'm thankful for my teenager. She might over react when her sister leaves toothpaste spit in the sink and she accidentally drops her blazer in it, but what that tells me is that the first kid actually brushed their teeth and the second cares about the image she presents to the world. Double score.
That same teen was once the baby who "ruined my life". Although I honestly never thought of her that way, most people had it cross their mind and several voiced it. But look at her now! She's the best. Funny, witty, beautiful and maddening... she allows me to make a quick run to the store without 4 kids in tow. Teen pregnancy coming in handy 15 years later and proof positive that blessings are often disguised.
I'm thankful for my dog. As a stray who found us in Italy, he's been a part of our family for nearly 5 years now. In that time, he's patiently weathered two toddlers and 5 days in a kennel during our overseas move only to move again 6 months later. Plus, he eats dang near everything so having a furry vacuum is a handy in-home feature.
I'm thankful for public school. And Chick-fil-a. And gas prices finally going down.
I'm thankful for change. Now, I'm going to get a little sentimental, I bet... so bear with me.
I'm thankful for the courage to finally stand up for myself and my happiness. I'm thankful for the health scare that led me to delve deep within myself and finally accept what I already knew. I'm thankful for the support I received throughout my struggles. And beyond all that, I'm thankful for the opportunity to live a life full of love and laughter. I'm thankful that my children are finally happy within the walls of our home. I'm thankful for forgiveness and patience because I'm scarred (yes, scarred, not scared) and sometimes I create my own roadblocks because I let fear override the knowledge that I have nothing to fear.
I'm thankful for my very best friend, my love, because I finally understand what it means to be in love with your best friend. I've loved him forever, only now I'm starting to realize it to it's full potential.
I'm thankful for the parts of him that he tends to hide from the masses. It's like being part of some awesome club. I'm thankful for the person he has proven to be - nearing 14 years and he's the only thing in my life that has remained steady.
I'm thankful for my crazy toddler man. My one boy, my last baby, my daily headache... he loves me like crazy and the feeling is mutual. He has his big sisters wrapped around his dirty little finger and is on the fast track to be the funniest and most energetic of my babies.
I'm thankful for sago mini apps. Those things are amazing. Have a toddler? Download a few. Next time I'll be on your thankful list for letting you in on that little tidbit.
I'm thankful for blankets. I'm also thankful that even though John keeps the house colder than I would like, it's about 40 degrees warmer than my house was this time last year.
And crock pots. Oh my. And hot cocoa mix in the big container. Those little packets are a joke but the big daddy? Thank you, Swiss Miss.
I got used to drinking strong coffee while living in Italy. I'm thankful that my wonderful boyfriend not only appreciates a good, strong cup of goodness, but keeps a pot brewed at all times. And International Delight? Keep up the good work, y'all.
Coupons. I'm thankful for coupons. I never really thought about how much coupons added up until I started using them regularly.
USAA. They have been an awesome bank. From taking care of separating assets to alerting me to fraud before I knew my wallet was missing and replacing everything quickly and efficiently, they've got top notch service.
Break and bake cookie dough. This way, I know exactly how many servings I've ingested before they're baked. No more taking a spoon to the roll of cookie dough. Thanks for the guilt.
Overnight diapers. That aforementioned toddler? He pees. A lot. Those diapers keep me from having to wash his sheets 4 times a week.
Healthy kids. They pee because they're hydrated and their bodies are working properly.
My iPhone. Sounds silly and materialistic, but think of it this way. I get texts from awesome people (and sometimes not awesome people that I just happen to be required to deal with) and always have a handy camera for those unexpected moments. And I can instantly post anything to social media and share it with the people of my choosing.
Social media. With family and friends all over the world but none close by, social media keeps me sane and connected.
Bagels. And strawberry cream cheese. Precut bagels... because they remind me that sometimes the "easy way" is a real pain in the butt. And I'm not even mad that the amount of cream cheese in any given container is not perfectly matched to the amount of bagels in any given bag... I'm just glad they both exist.
Big towels. They're hard to come by, which is why I've used the same purple towel since 2008, but those big, fluffy ones that can wrap around my boobs and still cover all of me are like the unicorns of the linen realm.
Google. Seriously. What did we ever do before Google?
Blackout curtains. It's lovely to have control over the amount of light you let into a room.
Tissues with lotion. And 2 ply toilet paper. Why do they even still make anything else?
Netflix. I love Netflix. The way it remembers exactly which episode I was on is the best. I get spacey and it's nice to know that some things really have my back.
Having a carpet cleaner in the house. The number of times coffee (that strong stuff) has been spilled on this floor, I'd have thrown out my other shoulder by now attempting to remove the stains..... and still fail.
And if you're still reading? I'm thankful for you. Seriously. Without someone to read my dribble, well, I'd need to find other ways to fill my need for approval. Ha! Thanks for your support.
And tune in later for Thankful part 2. It isn't written, it's not even really planned. But because I know myself and I know how I get around the holidays, I can say with certainty that there WILL be another one. I'm just thankful for so much!
Til then, I wish each and every one of you a happy Thanksgiving season. I sincerely hope that no matter what day it is, you find reasons to be thankful. They're everywhere. Beginning with the fact that you're breathing. And can see this text. And can read. Being grateful at our core for each and every thing that you are blessed with really does make all the darkness and fear and upset and hurt fade away. If you're finding it difficult to smile today, just remember... With every moment, you have the power to try.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Friday, November 21, 2014
Monday, October 20, 2014
Modesty and Self Respect
I've been hearing a lot about modesty lately and as a woman, a mother of 3 daughters (and a fourth bonus girl) and someone who is committed to a man with old fashioned beliefs, I feel like weighing in. What's the harm... just another opinion.
Recently I read an article about what it means to exhibit modesty. The discussion at hand specifically was women wearing yoga pants. Now, I own my share of these amazing garments... I love my yoga pants. I love that they're comfortable, they're flattering and they're functional while I'm bending, lifting, chasing a toddler and folding laundry. While I'm at home, in my element, I wear my yoga pants almost daily. But when I walk outside my home, I respect my man's wishes and wear something else.
Okay, okay, insert "controlling" and "red flag" and whatever else you are immediately thinking here. But it isn't like that. We've discussed this. And I agree with him. From a chick's point of view, let me tell you why. And for this rant, I'm going to say that modesty and general attention to appearance go hand in hand so I'll address them both.
I used to wear my yoga pants everywhere. I never thought twice about it. One day I dressed in jeans and a sweater and the Italian gate guard asked me what I was so dressed up for. I was embarrassed. I wasn't "dressed up" at all. I was simply "dressed". Another time, I was having coffee with a friend and bent over to pick up my infant. My loving friend quickly informed me that when I bent, in the sunlight, the stripes of my hipster panties were extremely visible through the thin fabric of my yoga pants. Let's face it... those stretchy, black beauties leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but then I started noticing that I could see other women's panties (or lack thereof) straight through their yoga pants while waiting in line at the store or out at the ball field. It made me really self conscious.
I wore yoga pants because they were easy, quick, comfortable and went with everything. Besides that, no one seemed to care what I wore. Plus, after 4 babies, jeans were terribly unflattering, uncomfortable and ill-fitting. But after having these things pointed out to me and further discussing the matter with my best friend who would later become my boyfriend, I decided that I was going to start setting a standard for myself that forced me out of my comfort zone. I started wearing "real clothes". Nothing fancy, just pants that weren't sold in the active or sleepwear section of the store.
Do you know what happened? My confidence rose. I walked a little taller in my jeans and boots. I held my head a little higher and smiled a little wider each and every time I took a few extra minutes to choose a cute dress or a shirt that wasn't a tank top or t-shirt. And people noticed. I not only looked better, I felt better. (Perk: And I realized that when I started to gain a couple of pounds, I could quickly get my eating back on track because my clothes didn't stretch with my cookies. I've been able to manage my weight without letting it get depressing before I noticed it.)
But this isn't just about yoga pants. No. It's also about super short shorts. It's about cleavage that risks nipple exposure if you cough. It's about walking through the mall looking like a common hooker and being offended when you're treated like one. Oh. Did I strike a chord there, ladies? Here's how this whole modesty thing REALLY works.
You present an image to the world. Your first impression will be made before you ever open your mouth, before you show your credentials, before you are able to list your volunteer efforts or proclaim your faith in God. Your presentation lies in your physical appearance. If you're looking for a relationship, the men you will attract depend largely on the beacon you're sending to call them in. A man will not see a woman dressed in revealing clothing as anything more than an easy target. A girl who will respond to cheap flattery and empty promises. A man will see a woman's deep cut neckline and immediately think "boobs" and not "wife". A man worth having will not approach you because a woman worth having wouldn't offer her body up for public viewing. Don't get me wrong... men WILL approach you. But when those men are only there to see what else you'll give them, you'll say "men are dogs"... No, honey. You're just attracting dogs because you're offering yourself up as a piece of meat.
How do I know? What gives me the audacity to say such things? I don't know you... You're right. I don't know YOU. I just know me. And I know what I had to learn before I realized that my trouble with commanding respect from others had a lot to do with the fact I was presenting the image that I didn't respect myself. And looking back, I didn't respect myself. Because if I did, I would've realized long ago that I didn't need to play up my boobs. Seriously. They speak for themselves. And on the flip side, years later, I didn't need to wear pants so tight (yoga) that I could stand in front of a light and someone could draw every detail of my ass. It's both ends of the spectrum. Dressing provocatively and dressing with little to no care or thought.
People tend to jump to the conclusion that modesty immediately translates into prudish, unfashionable and unattractive. People tend to be wrong. The most popular retort from women who can't grasp this concept is "well let me just go get my burka". Come ON, you childish little girls. No one is telling you to cover your body and definitely not your face. No one is trying to enact extreme control over your choices. No one is saying that you have to take on a look like the Amish or Mormons. The point is that you can cover your chest. You can wear skirts that you don't have to constantly pull down in the back and shorts that are longer than their pockets. You can dress in a manner that covers your body, offering less distraction from the real you. Unless all you are is your boobs... in which case, carry on.
But if you want to be seen for the amazing woman you are, sometimes you need to get out of your own way and realize that you need to start presenting to the world the image that you want to be seen for. Because, like I said, that's how this works. Step up your game. Stop wearing revealing clothing. And stop wearing pajama pants to the store and yoga pants outside of the gym or house. Start taking that extra 25 seconds to grab a pair of jeans. Throw on a sweater. Brush your hair, for crying out loud. Show the world that you are a woman worth respecting and the world will start respecting you.
Until you realize that you're in your own way, the path will always be blocked. I'd like to challenge every woman reading this to take one week and commit to wearing real clothes any time you leave your home. If you typically wear yoga pants, wear jeans instead. If you start to go to the store in your pajamas, get dressed. If you can see any part of your bra, cover it. If your skirt prohibits you from picking up your dropped keys, change. One week. And see if it has a positive impact on your self worth and confidence. I know it did for me. And it's time we start setting a better example for the young women we encounter.
Recently I read an article about what it means to exhibit modesty. The discussion at hand specifically was women wearing yoga pants. Now, I own my share of these amazing garments... I love my yoga pants. I love that they're comfortable, they're flattering and they're functional while I'm bending, lifting, chasing a toddler and folding laundry. While I'm at home, in my element, I wear my yoga pants almost daily. But when I walk outside my home, I respect my man's wishes and wear something else.
Okay, okay, insert "controlling" and "red flag" and whatever else you are immediately thinking here. But it isn't like that. We've discussed this. And I agree with him. From a chick's point of view, let me tell you why. And for this rant, I'm going to say that modesty and general attention to appearance go hand in hand so I'll address them both.
I used to wear my yoga pants everywhere. I never thought twice about it. One day I dressed in jeans and a sweater and the Italian gate guard asked me what I was so dressed up for. I was embarrassed. I wasn't "dressed up" at all. I was simply "dressed". Another time, I was having coffee with a friend and bent over to pick up my infant. My loving friend quickly informed me that when I bent, in the sunlight, the stripes of my hipster panties were extremely visible through the thin fabric of my yoga pants. Let's face it... those stretchy, black beauties leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but then I started noticing that I could see other women's panties (or lack thereof) straight through their yoga pants while waiting in line at the store or out at the ball field. It made me really self conscious.
I wore yoga pants because they were easy, quick, comfortable and went with everything. Besides that, no one seemed to care what I wore. Plus, after 4 babies, jeans were terribly unflattering, uncomfortable and ill-fitting. But after having these things pointed out to me and further discussing the matter with my best friend who would later become my boyfriend, I decided that I was going to start setting a standard for myself that forced me out of my comfort zone. I started wearing "real clothes". Nothing fancy, just pants that weren't sold in the active or sleepwear section of the store.
Do you know what happened? My confidence rose. I walked a little taller in my jeans and boots. I held my head a little higher and smiled a little wider each and every time I took a few extra minutes to choose a cute dress or a shirt that wasn't a tank top or t-shirt. And people noticed. I not only looked better, I felt better. (Perk: And I realized that when I started to gain a couple of pounds, I could quickly get my eating back on track because my clothes didn't stretch with my cookies. I've been able to manage my weight without letting it get depressing before I noticed it.)
But this isn't just about yoga pants. No. It's also about super short shorts. It's about cleavage that risks nipple exposure if you cough. It's about walking through the mall looking like a common hooker and being offended when you're treated like one. Oh. Did I strike a chord there, ladies? Here's how this whole modesty thing REALLY works.
You present an image to the world. Your first impression will be made before you ever open your mouth, before you show your credentials, before you are able to list your volunteer efforts or proclaim your faith in God. Your presentation lies in your physical appearance. If you're looking for a relationship, the men you will attract depend largely on the beacon you're sending to call them in. A man will not see a woman dressed in revealing clothing as anything more than an easy target. A girl who will respond to cheap flattery and empty promises. A man will see a woman's deep cut neckline and immediately think "boobs" and not "wife". A man worth having will not approach you because a woman worth having wouldn't offer her body up for public viewing. Don't get me wrong... men WILL approach you. But when those men are only there to see what else you'll give them, you'll say "men are dogs"... No, honey. You're just attracting dogs because you're offering yourself up as a piece of meat.
How do I know? What gives me the audacity to say such things? I don't know you... You're right. I don't know YOU. I just know me. And I know what I had to learn before I realized that my trouble with commanding respect from others had a lot to do with the fact I was presenting the image that I didn't respect myself. And looking back, I didn't respect myself. Because if I did, I would've realized long ago that I didn't need to play up my boobs. Seriously. They speak for themselves. And on the flip side, years later, I didn't need to wear pants so tight (yoga) that I could stand in front of a light and someone could draw every detail of my ass. It's both ends of the spectrum. Dressing provocatively and dressing with little to no care or thought.
People tend to jump to the conclusion that modesty immediately translates into prudish, unfashionable and unattractive. People tend to be wrong. The most popular retort from women who can't grasp this concept is "well let me just go get my burka". Come ON, you childish little girls. No one is telling you to cover your body and definitely not your face. No one is trying to enact extreme control over your choices. No one is saying that you have to take on a look like the Amish or Mormons. The point is that you can cover your chest. You can wear skirts that you don't have to constantly pull down in the back and shorts that are longer than their pockets. You can dress in a manner that covers your body, offering less distraction from the real you. Unless all you are is your boobs... in which case, carry on.
But if you want to be seen for the amazing woman you are, sometimes you need to get out of your own way and realize that you need to start presenting to the world the image that you want to be seen for. Because, like I said, that's how this works. Step up your game. Stop wearing revealing clothing. And stop wearing pajama pants to the store and yoga pants outside of the gym or house. Start taking that extra 25 seconds to grab a pair of jeans. Throw on a sweater. Brush your hair, for crying out loud. Show the world that you are a woman worth respecting and the world will start respecting you.
Until you realize that you're in your own way, the path will always be blocked. I'd like to challenge every woman reading this to take one week and commit to wearing real clothes any time you leave your home. If you typically wear yoga pants, wear jeans instead. If you start to go to the store in your pajamas, get dressed. If you can see any part of your bra, cover it. If your skirt prohibits you from picking up your dropped keys, change. One week. And see if it has a positive impact on your self worth and confidence. I know it did for me. And it's time we start setting a better example for the young women we encounter.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
First Day of 7th Grade (repost from 3 years ago)
This is another blog I wrote several years ago (3 nearly to the day) and felt deserved a repost. Update at the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh. My. God. It's like, you just don't get it, ya know?
Yep.
I don't get it. I don't get why my recently turned 12 year old daughter is so determined to be anyone BUT herself. I don't understand why she feels it necessary to try so hard to be like every one of the girls she is friends with or wants to be friends with but will deny something she enjoys if it is shared by someone who the aforementioned girls don't like. Well, I do get it, actually... I, too, was once a *gasp* preteen. (Although this particular daughter cannot grasp that concept.)
When I was going into 7th grade I refused to be like the rest of the girls. Those of you who know me now will probably agree that I still refuse to be anyone other than me. Not that I've always liked me, just that I knew I didn't like them. And somehow, I've failed thus far to teach my eldest child the concept of "IF YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, CHANCES ARE PEOPLE WON'T LIKE YOU WHEN YOU ACT JUST LIKE THEM!!" How did I miss this all important lesson? Well, clearly my constant berading of her hasn't caused the message to seep into her skull, so apparently I need to try a different method.
So here's my idea. Overly protective/reserved/conservative parents STOP READING NOW.
Now that we've weeded out those who will no doubt hassle me, here goes. I'm gonna let her fall flat on her high and mighty face. Yep. The thing about middle/high school is that you need to make mistakes and be held accountable for them by someone other than your parents (who OBVIOUSLY don't know ANYTHING). A child will not learn every life lesson in the comfort of their home and if they do, that only speaks to the limited realm of life that you experience by never learning anything from real life experiences.
Tomorrow starts a new school year. A new batch of kids for her to idolize and squash under her foot. A new batch of kids to do the same to her. And it may sound wrong, but I hope someone puts her in her place. Not necessarily by making her 7th grade year hell... because I know mine was, and frankly, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, let alone my child. I just don't want her to be like Stephanie and Jamie. And my "friend" Annie who spent all summer hanging out with me and enjoying my awesome company until she had to choose between what was real in our friendship and throwing me under the proverbial bus in order to not join me in my lowly status as the preteen punching bag.
I know that it may sound wrong for me to say such things... I ought to be saying how wonderful this year will be for her and how it's a fantastic opportunity in her life to grow and develop and yada yada yada. Well, it's all that, too. I just hope that this year she figures out that the best way to treat people... ALL PEOPLE... is to treat them with kindness, compassion and grace. I hope that she learns that who she is is who she was meant to be. I hope she learns that there are good qualities, bad qualities and every other kind of quality in every person you meet... and that it's perfectly okay to encourage the positive, pray for the negative and overlook what doesn't really matter in the long run. Because that's life.
So here's to 7th grade. I hope you teach my daughter grace. I hope you teach my daughter humility. I hope you teach my daughter respect. And love. And acceptance. And friendship. Real friendship. I hope you teach my daughter that being who she is is exactly and perfectly and beautifully okay. Imitations never surpass the original... so work on what you originally are. Because THAT is the best YOU are going to ever get... God created you to be you. Bask in the awesomeness that has already been bestowed upon you and don't try to be anyone else... because you were never created to be anything LESS than who you are.
~~~~~~~UPDATE~~~~~~~~
The daughter who was the subject of this blog started her sophomore year in a (yet another) new school this week. She has grown into a beautifully compassionate young woman who tries to be kind to everyone and is well liked for the quirky, cool, dorky and wonderful person she is. She still struggles to fit in, but at least she knows who she is and who she wants to be. Obviously something is working.
Now I have my second daughter who just started 6th grade. I must've learned something from my eldest... or maybe it's just that Kenz is so eccentric in general... because so far she's never been anyone other than who she is. I'm not going to lie... sometimes thats a pain in the butt. But I have to give her respect for being happy with who she is and the space to continue to hone her personality. (Her 1st grade teacher told me soon she would become "socially aware and conform". I responded "I hope not"... and so far she's been holding strong to that non-conformity.)
It's not over. I have 2 more coming up through the ranks and it's a struggle with each child. But I stand by my words. Good luck to all the kids - and their parents.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh. My. God. It's like, you just don't get it, ya know?
Yep.
I don't get it. I don't get why my recently turned 12 year old daughter is so determined to be anyone BUT herself. I don't understand why she feels it necessary to try so hard to be like every one of the girls she is friends with or wants to be friends with but will deny something she enjoys if it is shared by someone who the aforementioned girls don't like. Well, I do get it, actually... I, too, was once a *gasp* preteen. (Although this particular daughter cannot grasp that concept.)
When I was going into 7th grade I refused to be like the rest of the girls. Those of you who know me now will probably agree that I still refuse to be anyone other than me. Not that I've always liked me, just that I knew I didn't like them. And somehow, I've failed thus far to teach my eldest child the concept of "IF YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, CHANCES ARE PEOPLE WON'T LIKE YOU WHEN YOU ACT JUST LIKE THEM!!" How did I miss this all important lesson? Well, clearly my constant berading of her hasn't caused the message to seep into her skull, so apparently I need to try a different method.
So here's my idea. Overly protective/reserved/conservative parents STOP READING NOW.
Now that we've weeded out those who will no doubt hassle me, here goes. I'm gonna let her fall flat on her high and mighty face. Yep. The thing about middle/high school is that you need to make mistakes and be held accountable for them by someone other than your parents (who OBVIOUSLY don't know ANYTHING). A child will not learn every life lesson in the comfort of their home and if they do, that only speaks to the limited realm of life that you experience by never learning anything from real life experiences.
Tomorrow starts a new school year. A new batch of kids for her to idolize and squash under her foot. A new batch of kids to do the same to her. And it may sound wrong, but I hope someone puts her in her place. Not necessarily by making her 7th grade year hell... because I know mine was, and frankly, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, let alone my child. I just don't want her to be like Stephanie and Jamie. And my "friend" Annie who spent all summer hanging out with me and enjoying my awesome company until she had to choose between what was real in our friendship and throwing me under the proverbial bus in order to not join me in my lowly status as the preteen punching bag.
I know that it may sound wrong for me to say such things... I ought to be saying how wonderful this year will be for her and how it's a fantastic opportunity in her life to grow and develop and yada yada yada. Well, it's all that, too. I just hope that this year she figures out that the best way to treat people... ALL PEOPLE... is to treat them with kindness, compassion and grace. I hope that she learns that who she is is who she was meant to be. I hope she learns that there are good qualities, bad qualities and every other kind of quality in every person you meet... and that it's perfectly okay to encourage the positive, pray for the negative and overlook what doesn't really matter in the long run. Because that's life.
So here's to 7th grade. I hope you teach my daughter grace. I hope you teach my daughter humility. I hope you teach my daughter respect. And love. And acceptance. And friendship. Real friendship. I hope you teach my daughter that being who she is is exactly and perfectly and beautifully okay. Imitations never surpass the original... so work on what you originally are. Because THAT is the best YOU are going to ever get... God created you to be you. Bask in the awesomeness that has already been bestowed upon you and don't try to be anyone else... because you were never created to be anything LESS than who you are.
~~~~~~~UPDATE~~~~~~~~
The daughter who was the subject of this blog started her sophomore year in a (yet another) new school this week. She has grown into a beautifully compassionate young woman who tries to be kind to everyone and is well liked for the quirky, cool, dorky and wonderful person she is. She still struggles to fit in, but at least she knows who she is and who she wants to be. Obviously something is working.
Now I have my second daughter who just started 6th grade. I must've learned something from my eldest... or maybe it's just that Kenz is so eccentric in general... because so far she's never been anyone other than who she is. I'm not going to lie... sometimes thats a pain in the butt. But I have to give her respect for being happy with who she is and the space to continue to hone her personality. (Her 1st grade teacher told me soon she would become "socially aware and conform". I responded "I hope not"... and so far she's been holding strong to that non-conformity.)
It's not over. I have 2 more coming up through the ranks and it's a struggle with each child. But I stand by my words. Good luck to all the kids - and their parents.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
12 Years Ago Today (Repost from 3 years ago)
Tomorrow is Katy's 15th birthday. In honor of that, I'm reposting the blog I wrote 3 years ago today. Every word still rings true and before I blog again tomorrow, it's nice to have a refreshing reminder. If you're going through something and can't see how it's going to work out, have faith and keep pushing through. Greatness is there.
12 years ago today
So I've been dealing with a lot of random feelings about my baby girl turning 12 tomorrow. Actually today since it's 12:23 am... but she was born in NC where it is still only 6:23pm - on the 19th. And since she wasn't born until 7ish in the morning add another few hours and I'm technically correct on the whole tomorrow thing. I'm just smart enough to not try to pull that one out with her and deal with the whole preteen drama throwdown that is liable to ensue...
Anyhow.
12 years ago today I was scared to death. I didn't know what I was getting into but I knew that it was a choice I had made knowing full well that life as I never had a chance to know it would never be the same. I was between my junior and senior years of high school and 99.9% of the people who knew me honestly thought that the news of my having a baby was a cruel joke and couldn't grasp me being in that particular situation. Because at that point in time, you see... it was a "situation". As in "how could you have gotten yourself into this 'situation'" or "I just don't know how we're going to deal with this 'situation'"...
Twelve long, hard, beautiful, maddening, facinating, enlightening, survivalist years later? It's no longer a 'situation' that needs to be 'dealt with'... it is a child. A young woman. A lovely blessing. A hormonal confusion. A daughter. It's just Katy. And I'm just mom. Something that I couldn't see forward to 12 years ago today. I just knew that this was my child, my cross to bear, my life to mold, my twist of fate. And I took a leap of faith, having no faith to leap on. It was hard, I won't sugar coat that. It was definately no bed of roses and sometimes I feel like I didn't live up to my potential. But then I look at my children and think that maybe my potential was not to live into my OWN greatness, but to press forward and help them discover theirs.
I haven't always done right by Katy. I haven't always made the best decisions or packed the healthiest lunches (the trip to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing where I missed the memo about a bagged lunch and we all ate random snackfoods for lunch... not nutritious, but I was totally the coolest mom on the chaperone list...)... but I have ALWAYS known that I was meant to accept the responsibility and the challenge that would be Kaitlyn Rae Binkley. I knew that I was to learn and to teach, to nurture and be loved, to grow and to help grow... I knew that we were meant to be.
There have been times where I have questioned my sanity and my committment, there have been times where I knew without a doubt I was failing... but there has never been a time where I haven't known that my single most important purpose on this earth was to be a mom... even if the title DID claim me before I could vote and even before I graduated high school... This is who I am, and I wouldn't be who I am without who SHE is.
Katy has been with me throughout some of the hardest lessons in my life. She has remained an innocent player in the game of life and has battle scars inflicted by the trials and uncertainties that being the daughter of a teenaged mother can subject a child to. In spite of her beginnings and the sadness and anger which resulted from the 'situation' she was unknowingly the seed of, she immediately won the hearts of even the most rooted nay sayers. All it took was one look from that beautiful bundle of joy and everyone knew, just KNEW that this child was meant to be and was destined for awesomeness.
Now here we are, on the eve of her last year of official childhood, and I still know that this child is destined for awesomeness. And I have a renewed faith in myself, too... because after all is said and done, I haven't failed after all. I have succeeded... and my first notable accomplishment was standing my ground and accepting the gift of Katy.
Happy birthday to my first born, my life changer, my first love. Happy birthday to Katy.
Anyhow.
12 years ago today I was scared to death. I didn't know what I was getting into but I knew that it was a choice I had made knowing full well that life as I never had a chance to know it would never be the same. I was between my junior and senior years of high school and 99.9% of the people who knew me honestly thought that the news of my having a baby was a cruel joke and couldn't grasp me being in that particular situation. Because at that point in time, you see... it was a "situation". As in "how could you have gotten yourself into this 'situation'" or "I just don't know how we're going to deal with this 'situation'"...
Twelve long, hard, beautiful, maddening, facinating, enlightening, survivalist years later? It's no longer a 'situation' that needs to be 'dealt with'... it is a child. A young woman. A lovely blessing. A hormonal confusion. A daughter. It's just Katy. And I'm just mom. Something that I couldn't see forward to 12 years ago today. I just knew that this was my child, my cross to bear, my life to mold, my twist of fate. And I took a leap of faith, having no faith to leap on. It was hard, I won't sugar coat that. It was definately no bed of roses and sometimes I feel like I didn't live up to my potential. But then I look at my children and think that maybe my potential was not to live into my OWN greatness, but to press forward and help them discover theirs.
I haven't always done right by Katy. I haven't always made the best decisions or packed the healthiest lunches (the trip to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing where I missed the memo about a bagged lunch and we all ate random snackfoods for lunch... not nutritious, but I was totally the coolest mom on the chaperone list...)... but I have ALWAYS known that I was meant to accept the responsibility and the challenge that would be Kaitlyn Rae Binkley. I knew that I was to learn and to teach, to nurture and be loved, to grow and to help grow... I knew that we were meant to be.
There have been times where I have questioned my sanity and my committment, there have been times where I knew without a doubt I was failing... but there has never been a time where I haven't known that my single most important purpose on this earth was to be a mom... even if the title DID claim me before I could vote and even before I graduated high school... This is who I am, and I wouldn't be who I am without who SHE is.
Katy has been with me throughout some of the hardest lessons in my life. She has remained an innocent player in the game of life and has battle scars inflicted by the trials and uncertainties that being the daughter of a teenaged mother can subject a child to. In spite of her beginnings and the sadness and anger which resulted from the 'situation' she was unknowingly the seed of, she immediately won the hearts of even the most rooted nay sayers. All it took was one look from that beautiful bundle of joy and everyone knew, just KNEW that this child was meant to be and was destined for awesomeness.
Now here we are, on the eve of her last year of official childhood, and I still know that this child is destined for awesomeness. And I have a renewed faith in myself, too... because after all is said and done, I haven't failed after all. I have succeeded... and my first notable accomplishment was standing my ground and accepting the gift of Katy.
Happy birthday to my first born, my life changer, my first love. Happy birthday to Katy.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
It's okay.
We've all seen the memes, heard the advice from "well meaning" people, usually folks who are so far removed from their own children's youth that they've created a mental blind spot to all the things parents endure in the name of raising children...
"Enjoy this time... they grow up so fast."
I saw one a few minutes ago and, as I often do, I broke out the ol' Mac.
A dear friend brought up a great point the other day. She was flustered. Her husband is in another country (as happens on occasion when you're a military spouse) and they've just moved to Germany from Italy with their aging pets and two small children (10 months and 6). They're all driving her nuts. I've been in her shoes. I know a lot of you reading this have, too. Her concern voiced to me was simple. Like me, she worries that the standards placed on enjoying EVERY minute are unreasonable.
Am I doing enough with them?
Am I teaching them the right things?
Am I appreciating everything they do?
If I throw away this little scrap of paper or dead flower will I scar them for life?
If I can't pretend to be interested in this absurd line of questioning right this minute... am I a bad mom?
And when we get frustrated and need a break and it seems (or might actually BE) impossible to take one, well we are told to appreciate these days. They won't be little forever. One day, you'll blink your eyes and a man will stand where your baby boy once was. They'll leave and you'll be heart broken.
Hey. People. Screw you.
There is NO SHAME in being overwhelmed. There is no shame in accepting that sometimes, no matter how much we love our children, they're little a-holes. That's right. I said it.
And you know what? Sometimes, I need to step away in order to come back and effectively teach that little a-hole that their a-hole behavior is unacceptable so that I can do the job all parents should strive for... which is to raise adults who *gasp* aren't a-holes. Wait. Read that again if you need to.
Now really dig into the implications. As parents, we are given a child who we shape, mold, care for and guide into adulthood. The ultimate goal of any parent should be to do our best to release those crazy little a-holes into the wild some day as a critter that can care for itself and others in a manner that benefits the world. So clearly, they're meant to grow up.
That being said...
It's physically, mentally and psychologically impossible to cherish every single moment of every single day and every single thing your kid does. Trust me. I have four. I do my best, I'm sure most of us do. But I'm not Jesus, y'all. Lord forgive me, but some days when I've swept, mopped, vacuumed, cooked, washed the dishes, done the laundry, bathed the kids and step my exhausted carcass into the bathroom to pee....... and I come back out to an entire container of Fruity Pebbles crushed into the carpet, yogurt on the kitchen floor, the baby covered in green marker, the tweens arguing over whats fair in a video game and every item torn out of the dresser because the soon to be kindergartener is trying to find the right pair of panties to match the 7th dress she's had on in the last hour? Well. You can take your "cherish them when they're little" advice and shove it. See what I did there? I told the truth.
I love my kids. And I have AMAZING kids. They're well behaved, brilliant, beautiful, funny, imaginative, love to explore and a million other qualities that could go on much longer than you'd be interested in reading. But that's just it. They're great. And I don't need to pretend that they don't have their little a-hole moments to get that point across. I also LOVE seeing the people they're becoming. It's amazing to think that I've had anything to do with these beings that are blossoming before my eyes. It excites me.
Will I miss the hugs and kisses? The bedtime stories and tucking in? The diaper hats and funny way the baby eats his pasta? Absolutely.
Will I miss being head-butted? Having a toddler spit in my mouth? The tears because I can't read every book on the shelf every night? The getting out of bed every 5 minutes asking for water then waking up at 3am because they have to pee? Ruining diapers that cost good money? The mess that comes with someone who is still young enough to be considered socially acceptable with such terrible table manners? Absolutely not.
One day I will be able to go to the pool and swim. I can lay out. I can close my eyes and relax because I won't be responsible for a drowning toddler. One day I can go to a movie because I want to. One day I can make myself a cup of coffee and drink it while it's still hot... and drink it all by myself. I'll be able to leave M&Ms on my dresser and they'll still be there 5 minutes later. I can make what I want for dinner and no one will complain. I can sleep in on a school day - or any day. I can wear any fabric I choose and I can leave the house confident that there is no snot on my person. The world will be my oyster.
I love the moments that make my children awesome. I can even find humor in those moments that make them not so awesome. But when I can come sit on the porch, drink a glass of good wine, relax in the cool summer breeze and write a blog? Well, I can't help but get all giddy for the days when I can do it before 11pm and walk back inside to a nice, clean house that looks just the way it did when I went outside to begin with.
One day my children will be grown. But if I raise them right, they won't be gone. They'll still love me and I'll still love them. They'll bring me their husbands and wife (or wives, whatever, I'll love who they love) and their children. They'll bring them to visit and their kids will jam my DVD player (like Sophie did in 2011) and pee on my carpet (like Levi did last month) and like my dad did, I'll laugh and brush it off and remind their mortified parent that they were once a little a-hole, too. And then I'll hug my grandchildren tight and tell them how much I love them... and I'll remind their mamas and daddies that one day, they'll grow up.
I'm writing to say this, really... If you see a parent stressed out, frazzled, frustrated, irritated, at wit's end (I think you get it), don't "remind" them to cherish these moments and tell them one day they'll have an empty nest and thus an empty life... Give them a little nod, tell them they're doing okay and if you're really feeling helpful, help. I promise. We love them. But sometimes we need people to remind us that it's okay to not always like them. And it's perfectly acceptable to look forward to living a life where you can put you first. I know I am.
"Enjoy this time... they grow up so fast."
I saw one a few minutes ago and, as I often do, I broke out the ol' Mac.
A dear friend brought up a great point the other day. She was flustered. Her husband is in another country (as happens on occasion when you're a military spouse) and they've just moved to Germany from Italy with their aging pets and two small children (10 months and 6). They're all driving her nuts. I've been in her shoes. I know a lot of you reading this have, too. Her concern voiced to me was simple. Like me, she worries that the standards placed on enjoying EVERY minute are unreasonable.
Am I doing enough with them?
Am I teaching them the right things?
Am I appreciating everything they do?
If I throw away this little scrap of paper or dead flower will I scar them for life?
If I can't pretend to be interested in this absurd line of questioning right this minute... am I a bad mom?
And when we get frustrated and need a break and it seems (or might actually BE) impossible to take one, well we are told to appreciate these days. They won't be little forever. One day, you'll blink your eyes and a man will stand where your baby boy once was. They'll leave and you'll be heart broken.
Hey. People. Screw you.
There is NO SHAME in being overwhelmed. There is no shame in accepting that sometimes, no matter how much we love our children, they're little a-holes. That's right. I said it.
And you know what? Sometimes, I need to step away in order to come back and effectively teach that little a-hole that their a-hole behavior is unacceptable so that I can do the job all parents should strive for... which is to raise adults who *gasp* aren't a-holes. Wait. Read that again if you need to.
Now really dig into the implications. As parents, we are given a child who we shape, mold, care for and guide into adulthood. The ultimate goal of any parent should be to do our best to release those crazy little a-holes into the wild some day as a critter that can care for itself and others in a manner that benefits the world. So clearly, they're meant to grow up.
That being said...
It's physically, mentally and psychologically impossible to cherish every single moment of every single day and every single thing your kid does. Trust me. I have four. I do my best, I'm sure most of us do. But I'm not Jesus, y'all. Lord forgive me, but some days when I've swept, mopped, vacuumed, cooked, washed the dishes, done the laundry, bathed the kids and step my exhausted carcass into the bathroom to pee....... and I come back out to an entire container of Fruity Pebbles crushed into the carpet, yogurt on the kitchen floor, the baby covered in green marker, the tweens arguing over whats fair in a video game and every item torn out of the dresser because the soon to be kindergartener is trying to find the right pair of panties to match the 7th dress she's had on in the last hour? Well. You can take your "cherish them when they're little" advice and shove it. See what I did there? I told the truth.
I love my kids. And I have AMAZING kids. They're well behaved, brilliant, beautiful, funny, imaginative, love to explore and a million other qualities that could go on much longer than you'd be interested in reading. But that's just it. They're great. And I don't need to pretend that they don't have their little a-hole moments to get that point across. I also LOVE seeing the people they're becoming. It's amazing to think that I've had anything to do with these beings that are blossoming before my eyes. It excites me.
Will I miss the hugs and kisses? The bedtime stories and tucking in? The diaper hats and funny way the baby eats his pasta? Absolutely.
Will I miss being head-butted? Having a toddler spit in my mouth? The tears because I can't read every book on the shelf every night? The getting out of bed every 5 minutes asking for water then waking up at 3am because they have to pee? Ruining diapers that cost good money? The mess that comes with someone who is still young enough to be considered socially acceptable with such terrible table manners? Absolutely not.
One day I will be able to go to the pool and swim. I can lay out. I can close my eyes and relax because I won't be responsible for a drowning toddler. One day I can go to a movie because I want to. One day I can make myself a cup of coffee and drink it while it's still hot... and drink it all by myself. I'll be able to leave M&Ms on my dresser and they'll still be there 5 minutes later. I can make what I want for dinner and no one will complain. I can sleep in on a school day - or any day. I can wear any fabric I choose and I can leave the house confident that there is no snot on my person. The world will be my oyster.
I love the moments that make my children awesome. I can even find humor in those moments that make them not so awesome. But when I can come sit on the porch, drink a glass of good wine, relax in the cool summer breeze and write a blog? Well, I can't help but get all giddy for the days when I can do it before 11pm and walk back inside to a nice, clean house that looks just the way it did when I went outside to begin with.
One day my children will be grown. But if I raise them right, they won't be gone. They'll still love me and I'll still love them. They'll bring me their husbands and wife (or wives, whatever, I'll love who they love) and their children. They'll bring them to visit and their kids will jam my DVD player (like Sophie did in 2011) and pee on my carpet (like Levi did last month) and like my dad did, I'll laugh and brush it off and remind their mortified parent that they were once a little a-hole, too. And then I'll hug my grandchildren tight and tell them how much I love them... and I'll remind their mamas and daddies that one day, they'll grow up.
I'm writing to say this, really... If you see a parent stressed out, frazzled, frustrated, irritated, at wit's end (I think you get it), don't "remind" them to cherish these moments and tell them one day they'll have an empty nest and thus an empty life... Give them a little nod, tell them they're doing okay and if you're really feeling helpful, help. I promise. We love them. But sometimes we need people to remind us that it's okay to not always like them. And it's perfectly acceptable to look forward to living a life where you can put you first. I know I am.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Reported... for nudity? (Updated)
On the heels of my super cute and - let's be honest - hilarious toddler pic being reported for nudity on Facebook by who knows... I feel the need to say a few things. Wait. Let me get my coffee. *sip*
This (reposted to Facebook) is the photo that was reported to Facebook. Due to my privacy settings, only my friends should be able to see it. Well, until now. But that's not even my issue here. My issue runs deeper than a simple game of 'who dun it'. I honestly couldn't care less. What concerns me are the implications of someone thinking this photo is inappropriate on the level of it's nudity. And yes. Those clouds were there prior to the report. So my 2 year old, potty training, cloud covered son is a problem for someone out there in cyber space. A 'friend', no less.
Somehow, Americans have gotten to a sad, sad place regarding the human body. We live in a world where it's okay for young ladies to twerk in thongs and display the entirety of their cleavage in a profile picture. It's acceptable for high school girls to wear shorts so short that if they don't wax their pubes it'll be public knowledge. Nipples are common place and unoffensive... unless, of course, theres an infant feeding from them. Wait, wait, this isn't a breastfeeding in public post... but that's a harsh reality.
My four children and I spent the last four years living in Italy. Children ran in the yard nude. Girls swim topless until puberty and often after. It's nothing for children to strip naked and go for a dip in the river or even run in the water spray at major theme parks in (at most) their underwear. I had honestly either never noticed or forgotten how ridiculous American culture can be when it involves *gasp* nakedness.
Here's the thing.
There will always be threats. There will always be potential for someone to intend harm. There will always be people who are turned on by things that are unnatural or disturbing or unconventional in the opinion of the masses. These people have always existed. These people will always exist.
Here's another thing.
For 15 years, as long as I've been a mother, my first priority has been the love and protection of my children. I have spent more hours than the general public will ever appreciate trying to care for and protect my children. I teach them self awareness, I teach them self acceptance, I teach them about respect for themselves and for others. I teach them modesty and boundaries and morality. I teach them about what is appropriate and what isn't and when they are old enough, I teach them about predator protection and internet safety.
With those things out in the open, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?
I have no intention of putting my children out in a pornographic or otherwise harmful nature. But I also refuse - do you hear me? REFUSE! - to teach my children that there is no such thing as innocence. And I REFUSE to lose the appreciation for innocence myself. Children are amazing. They come into this world full of wonder and eagerness to absorb the world around them. If we can't appreciate what is natural and innocent, we lose the wonder of childhood and, quite frankly, life.
The life of a mom is full of moments where we see our children in their most adorable element. We see them learning, growing, discovering, accomplishing, astounding every day. And, let's face it. At some point, they're naked. If they're anything like my kids (the little two, at least), they're naked a lot. And their nakedness often adds to the mother's daily dose of laughter. Well, if the mom is anything like me. And if that mom is like me, she will take a picture of whatever monumental (or just amusing) thing that is going on regardless of the state of undress... and edit appropriately prior to posting online for other folks to join in on the hilarity or accomplishment. Part of the fun is determining what tiny picture I'm going to use as a censor block.
I'm not saying we don't need to consider the very real existence of child predators. I'm just saying that perhaps we need to get our priorities in line and teach our children to be proud and respectful of their bodies. And if you view a photo of a child learning to use the potty with their genitals no more visible than a kid at the beach as a sexual threat? Well, then. Perhaps you're part of the problem and I'd like to keep you away from all children for the sake of everyone involved. Your line of thinking is definitely not innocent.
Next time you view a photo of a child with no visible "private" parts and you think about the sexual implications, do the world a favor. Seek help. Don't punish a mother for relishing in what is good, pure, happy and innocent in her child's life. You are the problem. Not mothers and their precious children.
UPDATE:
When I awoke this morning, I had 95 views on this blog and a broken link that took readers to a page alerting us all that the photo was deemed offensive by Facebook and removed for content. I am not shocked. Someone in their office is probably clicking "delete" on every complaint that finds it's way to the server. So whats a girl to do?! Repost. And re-link. And go on a search for an editing app that will allow me to go bigger, better and funnier with adding creative censor blocks to butts and such.
I've sent in my three sentence statement of disappointment to the Facey-book powers that be, but we all know that isn't going to blow the slightest breeze toward ruffling those feathers. So all I can say is this: Stand up for yourself, your kids, your standards... and don't lose the humor or the innocence. Life has a way of sending people like Moronica DeFecalhead (name creeds to my dad, ya know, the man who helped me see the humor in things such as these) to try to suck the joy out of life. Fight back and don't let 'em get to ya.
I'm taking the kids to the pool today. There will be pictures. Ooh... better start planning censorship!!
Have an AWESOME day, y'all.
This (reposted to Facebook) is the photo that was reported to Facebook. Due to my privacy settings, only my friends should be able to see it. Well, until now. But that's not even my issue here. My issue runs deeper than a simple game of 'who dun it'. I honestly couldn't care less. What concerns me are the implications of someone thinking this photo is inappropriate on the level of it's nudity. And yes. Those clouds were there prior to the report. So my 2 year old, potty training, cloud covered son is a problem for someone out there in cyber space. A 'friend', no less.
Somehow, Americans have gotten to a sad, sad place regarding the human body. We live in a world where it's okay for young ladies to twerk in thongs and display the entirety of their cleavage in a profile picture. It's acceptable for high school girls to wear shorts so short that if they don't wax their pubes it'll be public knowledge. Nipples are common place and unoffensive... unless, of course, theres an infant feeding from them. Wait, wait, this isn't a breastfeeding in public post... but that's a harsh reality.
My four children and I spent the last four years living in Italy. Children ran in the yard nude. Girls swim topless until puberty and often after. It's nothing for children to strip naked and go for a dip in the river or even run in the water spray at major theme parks in (at most) their underwear. I had honestly either never noticed or forgotten how ridiculous American culture can be when it involves *gasp* nakedness.
Here's the thing.
There will always be threats. There will always be potential for someone to intend harm. There will always be people who are turned on by things that are unnatural or disturbing or unconventional in the opinion of the masses. These people have always existed. These people will always exist.
Here's another thing.
For 15 years, as long as I've been a mother, my first priority has been the love and protection of my children. I have spent more hours than the general public will ever appreciate trying to care for and protect my children. I teach them self awareness, I teach them self acceptance, I teach them about respect for themselves and for others. I teach them modesty and boundaries and morality. I teach them about what is appropriate and what isn't and when they are old enough, I teach them about predator protection and internet safety.
With those things out in the open, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?
I have no intention of putting my children out in a pornographic or otherwise harmful nature. But I also refuse - do you hear me? REFUSE! - to teach my children that there is no such thing as innocence. And I REFUSE to lose the appreciation for innocence myself. Children are amazing. They come into this world full of wonder and eagerness to absorb the world around them. If we can't appreciate what is natural and innocent, we lose the wonder of childhood and, quite frankly, life.
The life of a mom is full of moments where we see our children in their most adorable element. We see them learning, growing, discovering, accomplishing, astounding every day. And, let's face it. At some point, they're naked. If they're anything like my kids (the little two, at least), they're naked a lot. And their nakedness often adds to the mother's daily dose of laughter. Well, if the mom is anything like me. And if that mom is like me, she will take a picture of whatever monumental (or just amusing) thing that is going on regardless of the state of undress... and edit appropriately prior to posting online for other folks to join in on the hilarity or accomplishment. Part of the fun is determining what tiny picture I'm going to use as a censor block.
I'm not saying we don't need to consider the very real existence of child predators. I'm just saying that perhaps we need to get our priorities in line and teach our children to be proud and respectful of their bodies. And if you view a photo of a child learning to use the potty with their genitals no more visible than a kid at the beach as a sexual threat? Well, then. Perhaps you're part of the problem and I'd like to keep you away from all children for the sake of everyone involved. Your line of thinking is definitely not innocent.
Next time you view a photo of a child with no visible "private" parts and you think about the sexual implications, do the world a favor. Seek help. Don't punish a mother for relishing in what is good, pure, happy and innocent in her child's life. You are the problem. Not mothers and their precious children.
UPDATE:
When I awoke this morning, I had 95 views on this blog and a broken link that took readers to a page alerting us all that the photo was deemed offensive by Facebook and removed for content. I am not shocked. Someone in their office is probably clicking "delete" on every complaint that finds it's way to the server. So whats a girl to do?! Repost. And re-link. And go on a search for an editing app that will allow me to go bigger, better and funnier with adding creative censor blocks to butts and such.
I've sent in my three sentence statement of disappointment to the Facey-book powers that be, but we all know that isn't going to blow the slightest breeze toward ruffling those feathers. So all I can say is this: Stand up for yourself, your kids, your standards... and don't lose the humor or the innocence. Life has a way of sending people like Moronica DeFecalhead (name creeds to my dad, ya know, the man who helped me see the humor in things such as these) to try to suck the joy out of life. Fight back and don't let 'em get to ya.
I'm taking the kids to the pool today. There will be pictures. Ooh... better start planning censorship!!
Have an AWESOME day, y'all.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Thanks, mom
In honor of Mother's Day coming up, I'd like to send out thanks to all of us for those things we REALLY do. (In no particular order... and from the perspective of my kids.)
- Hey, mom. Thanks for making me that sandwich with the mustard perfectly spread... or drawn like a butterfly. Or a bear. Or a smiley face. And for making sure the cheese isn't torn and the bologna doesn't hang unevenly out of the bread.
- Thanks for folding my socks so I can unfold and mismatch them. Or put them on my hands like gloves. Or wear them out in the yard right after it rains without shoes.
- Thanks for washing my favorite shirt four times because I left it under my bed with a chocolate stain for a month. You're awesome with that stain remover and diligence.
- Thanks, mom, for hearing me roll over and give the slightest whimper in the night. Double thanks for attending to my needs before I wake everyone else in the house.
- Thanks for sitting outside with us while we blow bubbles. Even though all we are really doing is splashing soap into each others' eyes and dumping out the bowl while licking the bubble wand, we are having fun and your patience is greatly appreciated.
- Thanks for being the referee for our sibling spats. You're teaching us that by being nasty to one another, we might get smacked upside the head, and we will all get in trouble. Life lessons, right there.
- Thanks for teaching us to say please and thank you. People think its adorable in babies so, hey, we are twice as cute... and they expect it from bigger folk so we're on par to be respectful adults.
- Thanks for all the hugs and kisses. I know you love me and I'm much happier with you because you make me feel so secure. That's why I always want to hang on your leg and lay across your head. You're just so awesome that I can't help but want to snuggle at all costs.
- Thanks for teaching me how to poke fun at myself. I'm a pretty cool kid and people know I'm down to earth and love myself. Thanks for showing me that it's okay to be weird as long as you own it.
- Thank you for flushing the toilet. Ya know, eventually I'm sure I'll do it myself, but knowing that I can leave my poop right there and it'll be gone when I come back is kinda a cool phenomenon.
- Thanks for holding me down for shots, medicine, diaper changes, doctor visits, and for my general safety. Kicking and screaming doesn't mean I don't love you, I'm just trying to give you a great upper body workout. You're welcome.
- Thank you for playing the same movies over and over and over.... and over... I know you probably dream in My Little Pony and Frozen, but you know how much I love them and I really love that you sacrifice actual adult stimuli to flood your brain with songs about cutie marks and whatever snow does in summer.
- Thank you for doing whatever needs to be done to make sure I complete that project I JUST told you about. I know you had to go to 3 different stores and pull ideas from Google and just make it work, but somehow you always come through. Man. I thought for sure that with 2 hours will bedtime and it due tomorrow it was a long shot, but you always come through.
- Thank you for losing your cool. It reminds me that maybe I need to step back and re-evaluate my approach but the best thing it does is show me that you're a person with feelings, too. Sometimes I need that reminder. And thank you for showing me that it's okay to apologize when you yell at me. It reminds me that when I'm having a bad day and I take it out on people, I can always feel comfortable telling them I'm sorry and strengthening that relationship.
- Thanks for being the amazing cleaner of all things bodily fluid. Snot, pee, blood, vomit, poop, pus... you name it... we throw it at you, on you, near you, let you step in it and act like we don't know where it came from... but you always handle it like a champ. Keep up the good work.
- Thanks for buying me more shampoo, even when you said you wouldn't buy any more after I used it all as bubble bath. That huge mountain of bubbles was pretty neat, huh? Totally worth having to clean up the floor.
- Thanks for those magic kisses. No matter what hurts me, words, a fall, sickness, loss... mom, you make me feel better. I know you want to take away all the pain and keep me happy and smiling always, but even when something happens, you hug me, kiss me, tell me you love me and that as long as we have each other, things will always work out just fine.
Moms, you are amazing. I know that we don't always get acknowledged for the little, every day, seemingly worthless things we pour our energy into, but every last interaction we have with our children is a building block toward the person they will become. Every little thing we do reinforces the person we are, too. So thank you, moms, for all the things you do right, all the things you do wrong, all the patience you use and even all the times you snap. Thank you for answering God's call to raise your kids the best way you know how. Thank you for taking them from the womb and growing them into productive members of society.
Sometimes we all need a reminder that we are awesome. This is yours.
- Hey, mom. Thanks for making me that sandwich with the mustard perfectly spread... or drawn like a butterfly. Or a bear. Or a smiley face. And for making sure the cheese isn't torn and the bologna doesn't hang unevenly out of the bread.
- Thanks for folding my socks so I can unfold and mismatch them. Or put them on my hands like gloves. Or wear them out in the yard right after it rains without shoes.
- Thanks for washing my favorite shirt four times because I left it under my bed with a chocolate stain for a month. You're awesome with that stain remover and diligence.
- Thanks, mom, for hearing me roll over and give the slightest whimper in the night. Double thanks for attending to my needs before I wake everyone else in the house.
- Thanks for sitting outside with us while we blow bubbles. Even though all we are really doing is splashing soap into each others' eyes and dumping out the bowl while licking the bubble wand, we are having fun and your patience is greatly appreciated.
- Thanks for being the referee for our sibling spats. You're teaching us that by being nasty to one another, we might get smacked upside the head, and we will all get in trouble. Life lessons, right there.
- Thanks for teaching us to say please and thank you. People think its adorable in babies so, hey, we are twice as cute... and they expect it from bigger folk so we're on par to be respectful adults.
- Thanks for all the hugs and kisses. I know you love me and I'm much happier with you because you make me feel so secure. That's why I always want to hang on your leg and lay across your head. You're just so awesome that I can't help but want to snuggle at all costs.
- Thanks for teaching me how to poke fun at myself. I'm a pretty cool kid and people know I'm down to earth and love myself. Thanks for showing me that it's okay to be weird as long as you own it.
- Thank you for flushing the toilet. Ya know, eventually I'm sure I'll do it myself, but knowing that I can leave my poop right there and it'll be gone when I come back is kinda a cool phenomenon.
- Thanks for holding me down for shots, medicine, diaper changes, doctor visits, and for my general safety. Kicking and screaming doesn't mean I don't love you, I'm just trying to give you a great upper body workout. You're welcome.
- Thank you for playing the same movies over and over and over.... and over... I know you probably dream in My Little Pony and Frozen, but you know how much I love them and I really love that you sacrifice actual adult stimuli to flood your brain with songs about cutie marks and whatever snow does in summer.
- Thank you for doing whatever needs to be done to make sure I complete that project I JUST told you about. I know you had to go to 3 different stores and pull ideas from Google and just make it work, but somehow you always come through. Man. I thought for sure that with 2 hours will bedtime and it due tomorrow it was a long shot, but you always come through.
- Thank you for losing your cool. It reminds me that maybe I need to step back and re-evaluate my approach but the best thing it does is show me that you're a person with feelings, too. Sometimes I need that reminder. And thank you for showing me that it's okay to apologize when you yell at me. It reminds me that when I'm having a bad day and I take it out on people, I can always feel comfortable telling them I'm sorry and strengthening that relationship.
- Thanks for being the amazing cleaner of all things bodily fluid. Snot, pee, blood, vomit, poop, pus... you name it... we throw it at you, on you, near you, let you step in it and act like we don't know where it came from... but you always handle it like a champ. Keep up the good work.
- Thanks for buying me more shampoo, even when you said you wouldn't buy any more after I used it all as bubble bath. That huge mountain of bubbles was pretty neat, huh? Totally worth having to clean up the floor.
- Thanks for those magic kisses. No matter what hurts me, words, a fall, sickness, loss... mom, you make me feel better. I know you want to take away all the pain and keep me happy and smiling always, but even when something happens, you hug me, kiss me, tell me you love me and that as long as we have each other, things will always work out just fine.
Moms, you are amazing. I know that we don't always get acknowledged for the little, every day, seemingly worthless things we pour our energy into, but every last interaction we have with our children is a building block toward the person they will become. Every little thing we do reinforces the person we are, too. So thank you, moms, for all the things you do right, all the things you do wrong, all the patience you use and even all the times you snap. Thank you for answering God's call to raise your kids the best way you know how. Thank you for taking them from the womb and growing them into productive members of society.
Sometimes we all need a reminder that we are awesome. This is yours.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Welcome. You're Worth It.
Wow.
To think I gave this whole writing thing up because of someone who couldn't appreciate my wit and humor. Well. Shame on me.
I've seen the light.
Reading through old blogs tonight I realized something. I realized that I have always been amazing. Now, now... don't go thinking I"m just getting a big head and talking myself up. Let me explain.
For the longest time, I have let other people influence my self worth so heavily that I forgot that I once set the value for myself. I'm sure we are all guilty of it. We base our value on things like being needed in church, at the kid's school, or work, having friends to chat with over coffee or a doting (or more often passive) lover. We think that without someone calling our name and praising our deeds we lose our significance.
WAKE UP!!
I found that no matter what, in my soul, at my core, I am full of amazing qualities! I don't need someone to approve of what I write! I don't need someone to feel as deeply as I do about something! I don't need someone to compliment me to make me feel beautiful or laugh at my jokes so I know I'm funny! I don't need to listen when people put me down whether intentionally or accidentally. I am blessed with being me.
And me is someone that only I can be and only I can set the value of.
Funny thing...
Once I opened my eyes and realized that all of me was worth so much more than I was giving it credit for, well... something crazy happened. The corners of my mouth turned up. My shoulders lifted as the weight of burden dissipated. The future brightened and the past faded behind. People stepped up in support of my newfound realization... They encouraged me and they reminded me that I am STRONG. A word I wouldn't have credited myself with mere months ago. That I am CAPABLE and BRAVE and POSITIVE and LOVED. All things I never labeled myself with. But I'm not only accepting them, I'm embracing them and owning them.
In past musings I have spoken from my heart and I realized tonight that my heart has been flowing through my fingers in just the same way it's crying out tonight. It's been saying that I've been kicked down, beaten and bruised, mistreated and pushed around, disrespected and downright lied to. But I rise up. I stand my ground. I hold my head high and I smile, because I KNOW God has a plan for me and He WILL see it through.
Same could be said for each and every person reading this.
You feel like you aren't good enough? Like no one cares and no one loves you? That you aren't smart enough, pretty enough, funny enough? Do you shrug off the occasional compliment with doubt and disagreement? Do you hang your head when you aren't certain what people will think of you or hold your tongue because you lack the confidence to speak?
Let me tell you something. Come here. Closer.... closer......
YOU ARE AMAZING.
You, me, that chick over there, the dog down the street, the one lady with the nose hair... We will never be everyone's cup of tea. But think about it.... if YOU don't want you, how can you ever be receptive when that special someone comes sniffing around for a hot cup of chamomile?
Open your eyes, people.... See your worth. Embrace it. Love it, live it, own it.
Don't let them steal your joy. It's yours. And only you can give it away.
Start now. Do something for you. Something as simple as reading a book or drawing a picture, singing at the top of your lungs, taking extra time to fancy yourself without hope or intent of turning anyone's head but your own, dancing to the song on the radio... Find what makes you happy at your core and let it out!!
SO because I feel the need to open my venue with the right attitude:
I AM AWESOME.
So are you.
And because we are all now on the same page..... turn with me in the near future as I embark on the fabulous journey to find out what happens next as "TORI WILL BLOG AGAIN".
The best is yet to come.
To think I gave this whole writing thing up because of someone who couldn't appreciate my wit and humor. Well. Shame on me.
I've seen the light.
Reading through old blogs tonight I realized something. I realized that I have always been amazing. Now, now... don't go thinking I"m just getting a big head and talking myself up. Let me explain.
For the longest time, I have let other people influence my self worth so heavily that I forgot that I once set the value for myself. I'm sure we are all guilty of it. We base our value on things like being needed in church, at the kid's school, or work, having friends to chat with over coffee or a doting (or more often passive) lover. We think that without someone calling our name and praising our deeds we lose our significance.
WAKE UP!!
I found that no matter what, in my soul, at my core, I am full of amazing qualities! I don't need someone to approve of what I write! I don't need someone to feel as deeply as I do about something! I don't need someone to compliment me to make me feel beautiful or laugh at my jokes so I know I'm funny! I don't need to listen when people put me down whether intentionally or accidentally. I am blessed with being me.
And me is someone that only I can be and only I can set the value of.
Funny thing...
Once I opened my eyes and realized that all of me was worth so much more than I was giving it credit for, well... something crazy happened. The corners of my mouth turned up. My shoulders lifted as the weight of burden dissipated. The future brightened and the past faded behind. People stepped up in support of my newfound realization... They encouraged me and they reminded me that I am STRONG. A word I wouldn't have credited myself with mere months ago. That I am CAPABLE and BRAVE and POSITIVE and LOVED. All things I never labeled myself with. But I'm not only accepting them, I'm embracing them and owning them.
In past musings I have spoken from my heart and I realized tonight that my heart has been flowing through my fingers in just the same way it's crying out tonight. It's been saying that I've been kicked down, beaten and bruised, mistreated and pushed around, disrespected and downright lied to. But I rise up. I stand my ground. I hold my head high and I smile, because I KNOW God has a plan for me and He WILL see it through.
Same could be said for each and every person reading this.
You feel like you aren't good enough? Like no one cares and no one loves you? That you aren't smart enough, pretty enough, funny enough? Do you shrug off the occasional compliment with doubt and disagreement? Do you hang your head when you aren't certain what people will think of you or hold your tongue because you lack the confidence to speak?
Let me tell you something. Come here. Closer.... closer......
YOU ARE AMAZING.
You, me, that chick over there, the dog down the street, the one lady with the nose hair... We will never be everyone's cup of tea. But think about it.... if YOU don't want you, how can you ever be receptive when that special someone comes sniffing around for a hot cup of chamomile?
Open your eyes, people.... See your worth. Embrace it. Love it, live it, own it.
Don't let them steal your joy. It's yours. And only you can give it away.
Start now. Do something for you. Something as simple as reading a book or drawing a picture, singing at the top of your lungs, taking extra time to fancy yourself without hope or intent of turning anyone's head but your own, dancing to the song on the radio... Find what makes you happy at your core and let it out!!
SO because I feel the need to open my venue with the right attitude:
I AM AWESOME.
So are you.
And because we are all now on the same page..... turn with me in the near future as I embark on the fabulous journey to find out what happens next as "TORI WILL BLOG AGAIN".
The best is yet to come.
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