I refuse to clean our bathtub. My husband does it instead. I'll do the rest of the bathroom, just not the tub. * Much to the Mister's eternal chagrin, I drink out of the carton...regularly. * I definitely don't shower everyday, and sometimes only once every 3 days and just put my hair up the other days. * I don't typically change diapers when they're wet, only when they're dirty (although that only works because I have really poopy kids). * Sometimes I spend the whole day blogging, checking my email, looking up random crap online, and reading, only coming up for air to get after the kids and give them nourishment. * I absolutely loathe most housework. I can do it and do it well (my mom's a clean-freak, so I've been well-trained), but I hate it. * I almost never make my bed. * Sometimes, I wish I hadn't married so young (19). * I'm jealous of girls that went on missions, they seem so accomplished and spiritual. * I'm a zit popper (drives my husband insane). * I was recently released from my primary calling at church and was immensely relieved. I was going crazy working with kids nearly the same age as my own children, and with all the insanity that goes with that. * Sometimes I wish I could show off a little cleavage on occasion. * I pretend to be a good mom who doesn't want to over-schedule her kids, but really I'm just too lazy to have much structure. * I cook fairly involved meals so I don't feel guilty leaving the housework undone. * I'm a little crazy about the state of my tupperware area. Every lid and bottom has a place and shouldn't be moved. * I'm cheap to a fault. * I didn't wear a bra occasionally during my senior year of high school. It was my way of rebelling without actually doing anything too horrible. Now I just wish I still had the boobs for it. * I'm insane when it comes to matching colors. I'll notice a non-matcher item from 20 paces, I swear it. * I exercise with (minor) make-up on. * I secretly like my butt. It's big and round and makes jean-shopping a nightmare, but after years of praise from some black guy-friends I had in high school, I've come to terms with my posterior. * I seriously think my kids are the most hilarious kids ever. Sorry, but I really, truly do believe they're funnier then your kids. Well, unless your name is Liberty...then your kids hilariousity might possibly trump my own. * I still get sick to my stomach when my mom or dad calls me casually into a different room. It's a throw-back from my childhood when that usually meant I was in trouble and they didn't want to alarm me, causing me to flee the scene. * I prefer hairy men to those clean-chested, clean-faced type. Pretty sure my insistence is the sole reason Spencer currently has a goatee.* I think my feet, toes especially are beautiful. They're my very favorite part of my body. * Speaking of which, I think un-painted female toenails are ugly. * I adore candy. I would eat entire bags of it in a single sitting if given the chance. * My house is currently a disaster, but I think I'm going to ignore it and go to the craft store instead.
There now, that was cleansing. Your turn...
Showing posts with label confessions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confessions. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Breaking Point
I'm reaching the breaking point with my son. Seriously reaching the point where I want to return my kids. Can I return these for my old body, my sanity, and a new pair of hot high heels? Starburst jelly beans (which are my favorite and you can only find at Easter time) are my cigarettes (don't smoke or drink, so it's candy for me).
We are reaching the terrible two's. Some people say it only gets worst from here. I'm inclined to believe them. He's broken two of my dishes, tried to eat sunscreen, went around eating the old bread I had thrown out for the birds, covered himself head-to-toe in dirt (of course he was wearing his NICE clothes too), and tried dancing in the bathtub. Normally this would just be a normal day. I might feel exasperated, tired, a little irate, but I could deal with it. But nooOOoo - we have to add the hitting, kicking, throwing, and the temper tantrums. The full out, throws himself on the floor (sometimes with his little fists pounding the floor), screaming and crying tantrums. I'm becoming a pro at getting a diaper on a running, screaming 2 year old.
Today I wanted to throw myself on the floor and join him in the tantrum. The thought of what people would think of a mother and her son prostrate on the floor of WalMart screaming and crying is enough to make me smile (oh right - and keep from doing it). Then there's the crying. If it isn't one kid it's the other. The crying alone would make most people break.
Last night I went grocery shopping - by myself! Two blissful hours without kids. I came home to a giant hug from my husband. Apparently our daughter screamed the entire time for him while he tried to wrestle our son to bed. "I don't know how you do it, but thank you. You are a great Mom." He said. Today, I don't know if I can do it. So, I'm taking a very. deep. breath.
We are reaching the terrible two's. Some people say it only gets worst from here. I'm inclined to believe them. He's broken two of my dishes, tried to eat sunscreen, went around eating the old bread I had thrown out for the birds, covered himself head-to-toe in dirt (of course he was wearing his NICE clothes too), and tried dancing in the bathtub. Normally this would just be a normal day. I might feel exasperated, tired, a little irate, but I could deal with it. But nooOOoo - we have to add the hitting, kicking, throwing, and the temper tantrums. The full out, throws himself on the floor (sometimes with his little fists pounding the floor), screaming and crying tantrums. I'm becoming a pro at getting a diaper on a running, screaming 2 year old.
Today I wanted to throw myself on the floor and join him in the tantrum. The thought of what people would think of a mother and her son prostrate on the floor of WalMart screaming and crying is enough to make me smile (oh right - and keep from doing it). Then there's the crying. If it isn't one kid it's the other. The crying alone would make most people break.
Last night I went grocery shopping - by myself! Two blissful hours without kids. I came home to a giant hug from my husband. Apparently our daughter screamed the entire time for him while he tried to wrestle our son to bed. "I don't know how you do it, but thank you. You are a great Mom." He said. Today, I don't know if I can do it. So, I'm taking a very. deep. breath.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The "Those Moms" Myth
So often we, as mothers, heck as women, base our feelings about ourselves on a quick comparison to the other women and mothers around us. We view that ten minute interaction with them, and then continue to compare ourselves to it (typically negatively) for the rest of the day. Why do we do this to ourselves? Surely we know that what we're seeing can't possibly be the real them? Don't we? I realized during a conversation with my sister the other day, that I just might be one of "those moms" to a few women I know. Heaven forbid anyone think I'm a Super Mom. I'm here to tell you it's all crap. C-R-Aaaaa-P. To prove it, I'll be the first one on the chopping block:
Things That Other Moms Might See:
*I make my own bread.
*I sew.
*I cook a real dinner everyday, basically from scratch.
*My girls always have bows in their hair.
*I always have makeup on and my hair mostly done.
*I celebrate the minor holidays with my kids. St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, that sort of thing.
*I blog regularly.
*When the need arises, I can do all sorts of other crafty things.
Now, let's take a look at that list again...
*I make my own bread.
(and somehow manage to under-cook, over-cook, or otherwise bungle it up regularly.)
*I sew.
(and would be lying to say I haven't cursed at my machine more then once while doing it.)
*I cook a real dinner everyday, basically from scratch.
(and somehow manage to burn, over-salt, under-salt, or over-garlic it regularly, not to mention it doesn't really matter what I put on the table, my kids aren't touching it with a ten foot pole.)
*My girls always have bows in their hair.
(and scream the entire time I'm putting them in, causing me to scream back at them. Oh, and if you ever see us at home versus out and about, chances are not only will they not have bows in, but they'll most likely be naked too.)
*I always have makeup on and my hair mostly done.
(that would only be because I reeealllly don't like how I look otherwise. That and I have the skin and hair of a greasy, mid-puberty teenager)
*I celebrate the minor holidays with my kids. St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, that sort of thing.
(which, really, is only to give me something to fill up my very blank schedule with. My husband has his work projects to work towards, I have Cinco de Mayo.)
*I blog regularly.
(and spend waaaay too much time on the computer doing other things that don't fit in the "it's okay because it's an electronic journal" category.)
*When the need arises, I can do all sorts of other crafty things.
(and my house, routine, and children go entirely to pot for the week of said craft.)
...not only all those other things, but I yell at my kids...a lot, actually. Not only do I yell at them, but some days I long to return them to the counter in exchange for my pre-baby boobs, belly, and schedule. In fact, (dare I say it?) there are a lot of days where I really don't even like them, like at all. My house is nearly always a mess. Not just the "oh, don't look close, because I swear I have cookie crumbs on my spotless floor" sort of mess, more like "it qualifies as a national disaster, let's call in the National Guard" sort of mess. I nearly never dust and only scrub my bathtub when it's really, really gross. I live on string cheese during the day because I'm too harried to eat. I never exercise (and only manage to lose the baby weight because of the aforementioned string cheese diet). My kids are picky brats who manage to get away with murder all too often. In fact, during everything on that silly list up there, there's a good chance that my house is a mess and I'm yelling at my kids while doing any of them. Let's look at a few of the other moms I know:
Mom 1:
Has absolutely gorgeous kids that she dresses to the nines. Hair combed, curled, the whole she-bang. Not only are her kids gorgeous, but she's gorgeous. In fact, her house is gorgeous too. Yep, she's definitely one of "those moms".
(and her kids watch too much TV, she hates cleaning, spends a heck of a lot of time getting her and her kids ready to leave the house, yells at her kids a lot, and doesn't like to cook dinner if it involves more then 3 ingredients.)
Mom 2:
Manages to beat us all with having 4 fabulous children. They're adorable and always put-together. Oh, and her house...absolutely spotless.
(and she sometimes daydreams of stuffing all her children in a small box under her bed....and then leaving for the beach to go lay in the sun and read a book. The occasional curse word? yep, she says it. And you guessed it...she yells at her kids too.)
Mom 3:
Has an adorable child, is always unruffled and patient, just a very put-together, on top of it girl. Not only that, but she's writing a book and has a small online business.
(...actually, I haven't figured out Mom 3's weaknesses yet...but because she's human, I'm absolutely positive she has some of them).
My point is not to point out the flaws of other moms, but to remind us all that they have them in the first place. Chances are, that those women that you're comparing yourself to are comparing themselves to half a dozen other women that too. Heck, you're probably one of the moms she's comparing herself negatively to too. None of us are perfect, none of us are Super Moms...actually, scratch that last statement. We're ALL Super Moms, simply because we show up each morning (especially if it's at 2:00am for nursing) and give ourselves to our children all day long. We breathe, sweat, cry, live for our children. We have the single hardest, most important job on earth because their world really does depend on us. So, instead of beating ourselves up, let's just try to build each other up, remembering that we're all in this together and we're all just trying to do our best. So, next time you see one of "those moms," instead of making faces at her in your head, give her a big ol' hug because she's probably having a bad hair day and has spit-up down her back.
Things That Other Moms Might See:
*I make my own bread.
*I sew.
*I cook a real dinner everyday, basically from scratch.
*My girls always have bows in their hair.
*I always have makeup on and my hair mostly done.
*I celebrate the minor holidays with my kids. St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, that sort of thing.
*I blog regularly.
*When the need arises, I can do all sorts of other crafty things.
Now, let's take a look at that list again...
*I make my own bread.
(and somehow manage to under-cook, over-cook, or otherwise bungle it up regularly.)
*I sew.
(and would be lying to say I haven't cursed at my machine more then once while doing it.)
*I cook a real dinner everyday, basically from scratch.
(and somehow manage to burn, over-salt, under-salt, or over-garlic it regularly, not to mention it doesn't really matter what I put on the table, my kids aren't touching it with a ten foot pole.)
*My girls always have bows in their hair.
(and scream the entire time I'm putting them in, causing me to scream back at them. Oh, and if you ever see us at home versus out and about, chances are not only will they not have bows in, but they'll most likely be naked too.)
*I always have makeup on and my hair mostly done.
(that would only be because I reeealllly don't like how I look otherwise. That and I have the skin and hair of a greasy, mid-puberty teenager)
*I celebrate the minor holidays with my kids. St. Patrick's Day, Mardi Gras, that sort of thing.
(which, really, is only to give me something to fill up my very blank schedule with. My husband has his work projects to work towards, I have Cinco de Mayo.)
*I blog regularly.
(and spend waaaay too much time on the computer doing other things that don't fit in the "it's okay because it's an electronic journal" category.)
*When the need arises, I can do all sorts of other crafty things.
(and my house, routine, and children go entirely to pot for the week of said craft.)
...not only all those other things, but I yell at my kids...a lot, actually. Not only do I yell at them, but some days I long to return them to the counter in exchange for my pre-baby boobs, belly, and schedule. In fact, (dare I say it?) there are a lot of days where I really don't even like them, like at all. My house is nearly always a mess. Not just the "oh, don't look close, because I swear I have cookie crumbs on my spotless floor" sort of mess, more like "it qualifies as a national disaster, let's call in the National Guard" sort of mess. I nearly never dust and only scrub my bathtub when it's really, really gross. I live on string cheese during the day because I'm too harried to eat. I never exercise (and only manage to lose the baby weight because of the aforementioned string cheese diet). My kids are picky brats who manage to get away with murder all too often. In fact, during everything on that silly list up there, there's a good chance that my house is a mess and I'm yelling at my kids while doing any of them. Let's look at a few of the other moms I know:
Mom 1:
Has absolutely gorgeous kids that she dresses to the nines. Hair combed, curled, the whole she-bang. Not only are her kids gorgeous, but she's gorgeous. In fact, her house is gorgeous too. Yep, she's definitely one of "those moms".
(and her kids watch too much TV, she hates cleaning, spends a heck of a lot of time getting her and her kids ready to leave the house, yells at her kids a lot, and doesn't like to cook dinner if it involves more then 3 ingredients.)
Mom 2:
Manages to beat us all with having 4 fabulous children. They're adorable and always put-together. Oh, and her house...absolutely spotless.
(and she sometimes daydreams of stuffing all her children in a small box under her bed....and then leaving for the beach to go lay in the sun and read a book. The occasional curse word? yep, she says it. And you guessed it...she yells at her kids too.)
Mom 3:
Has an adorable child, is always unruffled and patient, just a very put-together, on top of it girl. Not only that, but she's writing a book and has a small online business.
(...actually, I haven't figured out Mom 3's weaknesses yet...but because she's human, I'm absolutely positive she has some of them).
My point is not to point out the flaws of other moms, but to remind us all that they have them in the first place. Chances are, that those women that you're comparing yourself to are comparing themselves to half a dozen other women that too. Heck, you're probably one of the moms she's comparing herself negatively to too. None of us are perfect, none of us are Super Moms...actually, scratch that last statement. We're ALL Super Moms, simply because we show up each morning (especially if it's at 2:00am for nursing) and give ourselves to our children all day long. We breathe, sweat, cry, live for our children. We have the single hardest, most important job on earth because their world really does depend on us. So, instead of beating ourselves up, let's just try to build each other up, remembering that we're all in this together and we're all just trying to do our best. So, next time you see one of "those moms," instead of making faces at her in your head, give her a big ol' hug because she's probably having a bad hair day and has spit-up down her back.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sometimes I feel like this:
P!nk - Please Don't Leave Me (Official Video) HQ
Uploaded by GaGa-Vision. - See the latest featured music videos.
Let me explain: I'm 30 weeks pregnant and this pregnancy has been very hard on me and consequently on my husband. I haven't had much patience with people and since I can't lose it in front of strangers or with my son, my poor husband receives the brunt of everything. The sane part of me, the normal part of me, says "you're being crazy, just ignore the fact that he is chewing too loudly." But the insane-pregnant side of me says out loud: "Stop chewing!"
My husband is extremely patient and loving. He is a middle child and therefore a peacemaker. It takes a LOT for him to lose his patience, but for the first time in our marriage I've pushed him that far. Of course, all that comes of it is basically him telling me I'm being a butthead. He's right of course, and I feel awful. I want to do something special for him. Something that shows him how much I really do appreciate all of the support, patience, and love he gives me.
So I have two things to request from our readers: One, any ideas of something special I can do for him? Two, And please tell me I'm not the only one who acts crazy...
P.S. The video is kind of creepy, therefore appropriate with Halloween tomorrow...
Saturday, September 26, 2009
I've come full circle
I love the movie Legally Blonde.
Now I realize, to many, Legally Blonde is nothing more than a Girl Power waste of time. However, those that just dismiss it as another brainless chick flick with slightly less male characters and a lot more pink are completely missing the point. I was sixteen when I first saw Legally Blonde with my best girlfriend Aubrey. As we lounged in her parents living room, I found myself relating to the struggles and triumphs of Ms. Elle Woods in oh-so-many ways. Somehow, I saw myself in the sassy, opinionated, and chic Elle (without the boobs, blonde hair, or wardrobe, of course). So often in high school, I was completely dismissed because I was perky, cute, and waaaay more than a bit of a flirt. It was automatically assumed I was vapid and empty-headed. I can't even tell you how often I had people insist I was making up a word they didn't recognize because they couldn't fathom I had a bigger vocabulary then they did [insert eye roll here]. Who cares if I say "like" more than my fair share, that doesn't mean I can't be intelligent. So, when I saw Elle deal with the same issues, I guess I just felt understood.
When I graduated from small-town Stillwater High School (Go Pioneers!), it was so refreshing to go to an intellectually-challenging college and have people assume that if you were there, you had to be a relatively smart cookie. I really, really enjoyed that aspect of school. Even when I got married, had my first baby, and was pregnant with my second (at the young age of 22, no less), people still assumed that I had some substance to me.
I'm sorry to say...I've come full circle. I'm once again Elle Woods, with flatter boobs and un-fabulous hair (what I wouldn't do for that volume *sigh*). Now that I'm no longer in school and am at home with three very young kids all. day. long., I find myself being, once again, completely dismissed. When I venture out for the necessary trip to Walmart or even [gasp!] the mall, people look at me like I'm certifiably insane or, even worse, completely through me. I was on a rare Girls Night Out a while back, and I got all excited that the person ringing me up at a store actually *saw* me and even carried on a conversation, no less. I don't know if my girlfriend really understood what the big deal was, but now that she's a mom herself, she probably does now. When people do talk to me, I often find myself talked down to. I don't know if they think because I procreate I must be an idiot or what. It's like, "Hello! I do have three children, but I do know how babies are made, I am aware of birth control, and I do have intelligent opinions! Thanks, buh-bye now." Never does someone ask me about my opinion on politics or religion or even the latest bestseller, they just ask me about my children...and that's about it. Don't get me wrong, I love talking about my kids, baby names, and potty-training, but I do have a brain just north of my uterus. So, while Elle lamented, "All people see when they look at me is blonde hair and big boobs," I'm complaining that all people see when they look at me is overactive kids and the mommy uniform.
Maybe I'm overreacting...heaven knows, I'm venting...I guess I'd just like someone to reassure me I'm not alone in feeling like this.
Anyone?
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Perfect Mother
Have you noticed there is this insane pressure to be the perfect mother? No wait - not just the prefect mother but the perfect woman? We should all have perfectly toned bodies, great hair, beautiful make-up, clothes that are in style, we should be able to cook and cook nutritiously (because heaven forbid anything pre-processed touch our child's lips!), keep a clean, organized house, work part-time or volunteer or have some interest outside of the house, be educated, well-read, musically or artistically talented, a great wife and supporter of our husbands, and have a house that looks like a million bucks but really you hardly spent a dime on it. Then there is our children. They should be perfectly cleaned and groomed, be able to read and write by the time they are one, involved in a multiple number of sports, music lessons, dance lessons, art lessons, they should start prepping for the SAT by the time they are four, never act-up in public, never say/do anything naughty, and always be polite little angels.
Are you laughing yet? Yah right - that's not very realistic?! Right? Right - but how come we find we are always defending ourselves? I hear my friends do this and I do this a lot. "Oh, sorry the house is a mess, it's just one of those days" or "please excuse the mess" or "I promise, my kid doesn't eat chicken nuggets everyday" or "I need to work-out, it's just tough right now."
Well, I'm rebelling. I don't work-out because I don't want to. My son eats french fries because he likes them and I let him. My house is always in a state of mild messiness - it's just a fact of life. I buy stuff for myself; it makes me feel good. I let my child learn by play - he's only going to be one once, why pressure him unnecessarily?
I propose we stop defending ourselves. We are all human. Take a page out of your child's book and just be yourself. You don't find your child defending his/herself, do you? Repeat after me:
I will be confident in who I am.
I will accept myself and my fellow Moms just the way they are.
I will not defend myself against an unrealistic expectation.
I will be understanding and not judge my fellow Moms.
Who's with me?!
Are you laughing yet? Yah right - that's not very realistic?! Right? Right - but how come we find we are always defending ourselves? I hear my friends do this and I do this a lot. "Oh, sorry the house is a mess, it's just one of those days" or "please excuse the mess" or "I promise, my kid doesn't eat chicken nuggets everyday" or "I need to work-out, it's just tough right now."
Well, I'm rebelling. I don't work-out because I don't want to. My son eats french fries because he likes them and I let him. My house is always in a state of mild messiness - it's just a fact of life. I buy stuff for myself; it makes me feel good. I let my child learn by play - he's only going to be one once, why pressure him unnecessarily?
I propose we stop defending ourselves. We are all human. Take a page out of your child's book and just be yourself. You don't find your child defending his/herself, do you? Repeat after me:
I will be confident in who I am.
I will accept myself and my fellow Moms just the way they are.
I will not defend myself against an unrealistic expectation.
I will be understanding and not judge my fellow Moms.
Who's with me?!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Confessions
I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration Finance only to change poopy diapers, wipe snotty noses, and desperately try to keep my house clean. Whoever knew studying supply and demand curves, learning how to do amortization schedules in my sleep, and taking Women in Literature just for fun would lead to reading "Baby's First Words" and "Doggies" for the umpteenth time today?
I always had this glamorous picture of me traveling the world, studying abroad for grad school, working my way up the ladder at some hot company, proving to all those who thought I was too meek for the fast-pace life of Wall Street that I do have a feisty side to me.
I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew I was going to settle down with some handsome guy and start a family. That's why I married my sweetheart instead of taking an internship with Lehman Brothers. And why, when my husband and I decided to expand our family, I had no problem wrapping up my education, quitting my job, and staying home with my son.
Every so once in a while I look at what could have been and sigh. How much fun would all of that have been? But I know in my heart I wouldn't have been as happy as I am today. When I see my sweet little boy smile and feel his little hugs. When my husband visibly relaxes after a long day at work because he knows I am happy and have everything in order, I know we made the right choice.
I don't regret my decisions even though I sometimes look back and dream. I have so much to look forward to in the future. Who knows? Maybe I will start my own business. (Which would be more pleasant than working for some stressed-out-caffeinated-crazed boss).
I always had this glamorous picture of me traveling the world, studying abroad for grad school, working my way up the ladder at some hot company, proving to all those who thought I was too meek for the fast-pace life of Wall Street that I do have a feisty side to me.
I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew I was going to settle down with some handsome guy and start a family. That's why I married my sweetheart instead of taking an internship with Lehman Brothers. And why, when my husband and I decided to expand our family, I had no problem wrapping up my education, quitting my job, and staying home with my son.
Every so once in a while I look at what could have been and sigh. How much fun would all of that have been? But I know in my heart I wouldn't have been as happy as I am today. When I see my sweet little boy smile and feel his little hugs. When my husband visibly relaxes after a long day at work because he knows I am happy and have everything in order, I know we made the right choice.
I don't regret my decisions even though I sometimes look back and dream. I have so much to look forward to in the future. Who knows? Maybe I will start my own business. (Which would be more pleasant than working for some stressed-out-caffeinated-crazed boss).
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