giggles and curls, sunshine and roses.

It seems like, these days, I'm often asked what it's like being a mom.  In response, I usually attempt to summarize this scene...

Hilarious, I know!  Hence my attempt to roughly summarize for the benefit of the questioner.  But, see, I worry that it actually ends up scaring the poor non-parent more then it helps, 'cause when it comes to parenting, you just don't get it until you really GET it.  So I end up worrying I'm dissuading them way more then necessary.  Let me explain...

One of my eternal quests is to expose the myth of motherhood...this idea that it's all giggles and curls, sunshine and roses.  That, as the article in our last post so aptly described, it's impossible to carpe diem when you're a mom because the majority of diems are not anything any sane person would want to carpe anyway.  Being a mom is harder work than any toned-tummy, myriad-of-alone-time, non-diaper-bag-toting, baby-free young co-ed can possibly imagine.

But here's the thing...sometimes it actually IS giggles and curls.  Sometimes things come together in a picture-perfect, crystal-clear moment.  What I worry about is that I, in the words of my movie clip, emphasize the awful, awful, awful without fully explaining the times that something incredible and magical happens.  It really IS magical and amazing and incredible.  Not only that, but those perfect moments really DO make it all worth it.  It is so absolutely, indescribably amazing to feel that downy newborn hair, get those gummy infant kisses, hold that little toddler hand, see that crooked pre-schooler signature, smell that little boy sweaty smell, and see that little baby all grown up that words can't even begin to describe it.  To say that it makes it all worth it is the understatement of the century.  It makes everything all worth it...pregnancy, parenthood, even slogging through this thing called mortality.  In those moments, you realize that those little people are the whole reason you are here on this earth.   When we are told, "...men are, that they might have joy." (2 Nephi, 2:25) as a mother I know that I am so that those little people can be my joy. They are the point.

When I have those moments, it makes the awful, awful, awful seem not all that...well...awful.  In fact, it makes the awful moments feel a lot more like sunshine and roses.

Domestic Goddess

A salesperson came by my house the other day.

She asked what I did for a living.

"I'm a stay-home mom." I told her.

"Domestic Goddess! Alright!" She gave me a high-five.

It almost made me want to buy the magazines she was selling.

Domestic Goddess... I kind of like the sound of that...

Sucks

My SIL sent me this article and reading it helped me realize something about myself.

Is it sad that I had to read an article to have a self-revelation? I hope not.

Anyway, read the article if you can, but the summary is that she realized she was carrying around this guilt because she wasn't living in bliss every single moment of the day and she felt like she wasn't appreciating her children. She talks about having people come up to her in the store saying to "enjoy every moment because it goes by so fast."

Haven't we all heard that one before? I realized, just like her, hearing this made me feel guilty. So, I've been carrying around this guilt because most of the time I'm frustrated, near tears, and NOT enjoying every moment with my children.

To add to it, I decided my problem was that I wasn't being positive enough, so I made a goal to be more positive, enjoy the small moments, and try to relax. But this didn't really help because in the end I just felt more guilty.

I've decided instead I need to be more honest with myself. Here's my confession. This week has sucked. The kids have pushed me to my limits physically, mentally, and emotionally. Each day has ended with me close to tears and exhausted.

Do I hate being a mother? No, not at all. I look forward to every day and all the happy moments that make-up for the not-so-happy moments and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

However, after this week and reading the above mentioned article, I can unashamedly conclude that this week was hard. Just like everything else in life, being a Mother is hard and difficult, and just like with everything else in life it's okay to admit that every now and then.

Awkward

Is it just me, or does it seem like because you are a mom it entitles complete strangers to ask you personal questions?

Usually I don't mind answering questions, I'm sort of an open book in that way. But there is one question that I seem to get asked a lot, especially lately, that just makes me feel a bit awkward.

"So, now that you have a boy and a girl, are you done?"

Why does it make me feel awkward?

It comes from complete strangers - like the sales rep at the car dealership, or the cashier at WalMart, or the waiter at a restaurant, or the annoyed patron at a store - and leaves me wondering how they expect me to respond. Sometimes they are truly curious and sometimes they are a bit demeaning in a she-can-barely-control-the-two-she-has-oh-please-don't-let-her-have-another sort of way.

I usually answer with "Oh depends on the day... we'll see." But I'm half tempted to answer with "Actually, my husband and I have a goal to have more kids than the Duggar family, so watch out!"

Relax, just do it.

Guess what?!?  We just got another formspring question!  Gotta say...I love it when our readers give us questions.  Not only does it make finding a topic to write about easier, it makes me feel like we really are just all sittin' around gabbing with big steaming mugs of hot chocolate in front of us, like proper girlfriends should.  Anyway...enough with my Girls Night Out mini-fantasy, onto the question!

How do you handle nursing in front of your other children, are you secretive about it or relaxed?

As Frankie said on his way to Hollywood, "Relax, just do it." (Ok, so I know that's not the real lyric, but that's the version I've been singing in my head ever since I got this question), so, the short answer would be:

Oh so very, very, very relaxed.

Now here's the long answer:

If any of y'all have spent any number of minutes in my home, I'm sure you've witnessed the never-ending modesty battle as I insist that my hooligans "get some friggin' clothes on!"  It's become sort of a family...and neighborhood...and ward joke that the Lifferth chilluns just don't like clothing much.  The less, the better in their books.  Where, I've been asked time and again, do they get it from?  Well...let's just say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  No, I don't spend my days lounging about in the buff, but I've never been one to stress if my kids happen to catch a glimpse either.

So, I'm not much different when it comes to nursing.  I don't mind nursing in public as long as I can successfully hide the actual faucet.  Hence, I most certainly don't hesitate to nurse anytime, anywhere in my home.  I've always felt that nursing is a healthy, normal part of life and it can only help a kid to be exposed to it in day-to-day workings of the family.  It's my hope that if I act like nursing is nothing to be ashamed of then it won't weird-out my sons when their wives start spouting liquid nutrients and my daughters won't hesitate to give it a try as well.

Not to mention, who has time to go into a secluded alcove to nurse anyway when they have 3 other small children under-foot?  If I did that every time the baby was hungry I'd reemerge to find my house absolutely torn apart or...errr...more torn apart then it is already, anyway.

So, when you find yourself as a new mom of more-then-one, I encourage you to give open nursing a try.  You'll find out soon enough that your little one will treat it as what it really is...no big deal.

Potty Training...and all the loveliness that comes with it.

I've been dreading potty training ever since we decided it was time to have kids. However, my son is three years old and I finally decided it was time for the inevitable. So, I bought some Thomas underwear, a Lightning McQueen toilet seat, and told myself today was the day (or, ummm, last Tuesday was the day).

Two accidents later I thought twice about whether or not today was really the day. After some consideration I decided to hold off till the next day, it was a crazy-busy day for me and I was already stressed by the days activities.

Wednesday morning was a fresh new start. We talked about going pee-pee in the potty, how the Thomas underwear was special and for big boys, and how peeing on the floor made mommy sad. Three number one accidents and one number two accident later and I had reached my limit. And it was only 11am.

Back to diapers and a trip to the library. Obviously I needed to rethink my strategy, I mean my son was walking around calling his underwear his "Thomas diapers." I checked out books and videos, bought some "training pants" and introduced the vocabulary to my son.

Now, almost a week later he hasn't peed in the potty. I figure there are three things that have made it impossible:

1. It was my BIL's wedding reception this past weekend and we had everyone flying in for it, from brothers to 93 year-old grandfathers. With late nights, luncheons, and no naps, it was obviously not the best time to start potty training.
2. Language - I just assumed that my son would catch-on to the language just like that, obviously I need to introduce concepts like the difference between underwear and diapers before we proceed.
3. Me - I get frustrated quite easily and have found that while I can handle the screaming and crying and changing poopy diapers - I can NOT handle pee on the floor and changing nasty underwear. Oh - and I have NO clue what I am doing.

So, any suggestions? I am seriously at a complete loss and while I've tried reading books and doing such things as "naked-time" (which did not work, he just sat on the floor and cried for his pants), it's just not working. To all of you experienced potty-training Moms out there I send an S.O.S. What's the secret to successful potty training? Or better yet, how did you have the patience and sanity to get through it?

of things that matter most

Oh my heck, has it been my turn to post for nearly 2 weeks?! big oops!  The ridiculous thing is I've had this post in my head for at least that long, I've just had family in town and what-not and time passed me by.  Anyway...

My dad sent me this movie a while ago.  It was a great reminder during the everyday drudgery (and joy!) of raising hooligans.  It helped me remember just how wonderful the little souls I have in my care really are and made me want to try just a bit harder to see that in the day-to-day. It made me (all teary-eyed) remember where I've come from and whence I'm going.  As an added bonus, the cinematography is super-cool! Enjoy!

"We would do well to slow down a little, focus on the significant, lift up our eyes, and truly see the things that matter most."
~Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The Jelly Belly

Hip Hip Horray for another formspring question!  Here goes nothing...

I've got belly jelly (4 BIG babies worth of it) how on earth do I climb in bed and feel good rockin' my belly jelly, and not just be acutely aware of it's jiggle the whole time?!?

Well...isn't that the question of the day?

When Aubrey and I received this inquiry, I quickly called dibs on the chance to answer since I feel this falls into my particular specialty...let's just say I have the jiggliest, wrinkliest jelly belly this side of the Mississippi.  It really, truly is ugh-worthy, I promise.  No matter what I do, I just can't seem to shake the jello (pun intended ;).  After 4 babies, each one stretching things out a bit more, I've finally come to accept the fact that the wrinkly skin and loose muscle just isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

So...what's a girl to do now?  I've learned to tolerate my ever-present tummy-folds but toleration doesn't exactly foster sexual prowess and confidence au naturel.  Of course, there's all the usual answers:

• lingerie to cover up provocatively

• role-playing to help a girl pretend to still be a toned young thing

• denial in an attempt to ignore (la la la what jelly belly? la la la)

• and, of course, plain ol' fashioned leaving the lights off

While all valid answers, they're really just a band-aid, aren't they?  They cover things up, not help them heal.  Well, just like with an owie that's being covered a bit too often and a bit too tightly, sometimes it's just better to rip the band-aid off in one quick painful pull.  Which means...[cue scary music]

• leave the lingerie for the real special occasions (although, honestly, there's many a husband that will claim anytime he gets the rare summin' summin' post-baby is a special occasion)

• enjoy being you, the mother of your beautiful children and your husband's wife, rather then imagining you're someone and somewhere else

• not to mention, leave those darn lights on

In short...really, truly accept your body for what it is.  Heaven knows, I'm not claiming I've got this down, I can't even help cringing when I accidentally catch a glimpse of my one month postpartum belly in the mirror. I am, however, trying.  I'm attempting to believe my husband when he insists I'm gorgeous and oh-so-sexy.  I'm trying to view my stretch marks and wrinkles as battle scars in the war mommyhood wages on my body. And, five and a half years and four kids after I officially became a mom, I'm trying to love, not just tolerate or even accept, but love my body for the amazing things it's done and does everyday.  While it's still a bit of a struggle every time I climb into bed, I finally feel like I'm getting there.  I don't know if I can honestly claim I'm "rockin' my belly jelly" but I like to think one day maybe I will.

My Daughter Hates Me

She is screaming at the top of her lungs. Like bloody-murder screaming.

And has been for the past 30 minutes.

Nothing I do is helping. I've tried feeding her, giving her milk, holding/cuddling her, everything.

She is just flat out mad at me. If she could talk I'm sure I would be hearing choruses of "I HATE you mommy" coming from her room. Which is where she is right now, because I can't take it anymore.

She has driven me to eat TWO chocolate fudge Pop-Tarts. She's only a year-and-half, I wonder what this means for the upcoming toddler stage? (Probably means I need to increase my exercise or I am seriously going to gain 50 pounds in the next couple of years).

My New Mantra

I went to Time Our for Women this past weekend (a conference specifically geared toward LDS women). I won't go on and on about how much I loved it. I want to share one quote that just stuck with me. I think it sums up the conference and should really be every woman's new motto. In fact, I might get crafty and make a plaque or something so I can read it every day.

The quote goes like this:
"You are who you are, you might as well enjoy it." ~Marjorie Hinckley


My new goal? To enjoy being ME!

Anyone?

Anyone know how to get crayon/pen off the wall?

What about chocolate pudding stains out of clothing?

I know! Anyone want to trade kids for a day or two. I'll watch yours if you watch mine if it means I can have ONE day where I enjoy a clean house...

Discrimination!

Have you ever been the victim of impatient huffs or evil stares? How about rude comments? Rude service? Or maybe not rude service, but just plain impatient service?

And it's all because of the little jewels in your crown, your children. Join the club.

To be honest, I'm kind of getting tired of it. I understand if my kids are acting up and you don't want to hear it, but neither do I. Besides, Wal-Mart is a public place and families are bound to be there, shopping together. If you would prefer to shop when there are no kids around then go at 10pm when we are all home, with our children tucked into bed.

My husband and I like to go out to eat. It's our treat to ourselves and there are some days I really don't feel like cooking. We always pick "family-friendly" restaurants, it's not like we are going to the cute Italian bistro that doesn't have a kids menu let alone a high-chair.

Just last week I decided to take my son out on a lunch-date. Just me and him and some good food. I wanted to change it up a bit and decided on Applebee's. My son didn't care as long as he could have french fries. We arrived at 11:45am. They seated us in an area that had TWO other tables with patrons, everywhere else was empty. I immediately distracted my son with the provided coloring page and skimmed through the menu. I AM aware that I have a two-year old with me and that I am at a sit-down restaurant so I must be prepared to order when the waitress comes to ask for our drinks. I also have snacks in the diaper bag to hold him over till the food arrives. I watched the waitress wipe down two empty tables that didn't really need wiping, ask the other patrons if they needed anything else, flirt with (whom I am assuming was) the shift manager, and make eye-contact with me twice and then intentionally look away. After fifteen minutes I quietly packed up my stuff, told my son that we had to leave, but not to worry we would go somewhere else with french fries, and walked out of the restaurant. Five minutes later we were seated at Chik-fil-a, while the nice employees brought our tray out to us and we enjoyed a nice hot meal. During our stay there they asked if we needed refills, if they could throw my trash away, and if I needed anything else. And I didn't have to TIP them.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me nor do I think it will be the last. It's a form of discrimination and I don't like it. I could go on, but for the sake of not turning nasty, I will stop here.

Suggestions, anyone?

I'm at my wits end.

My son has decided it's funny to run away from me. In the store. In the parking lot. Into the middle of the street. It often happens when I am preoccupied with his sister. All it takes is one split-second of diverted attention and he's off. He's a fast little sucker too.

I've tried everything: yelling, time-out, take toys away, take his lovie away, and even resulted to a quick swat on the rear in particularly dangerous situations (no, I do not spank my children as a general rule). Nothing works. It's often hard to do anything about it since it happens 90% of the time with his little sister. I can only do so much when I'm holding another baby in my arms.

He loves to run, he loves to be chased, and he really truly thinks it's a game. I have no idea how I'm supposed to reason with a two year old.

And so I'm coming to you, our readers. Any suggestions? Anyone experience the same thing? I'm desperate.

New Mantra: Personal Experience Part 3

Our new mantra has become: "Now we know why..."

1. Our kid has been a great sleeper since birth, nothing wakes him up. Phone calls, doorbells, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms, tornado sirens... now we know why. (And here we just thought we were really great at this parenting thing).
2. He only had two volumes, loud and louder... now we know why. (Much to our embarrassment while sitting in the middle of church).
3. He loves loud music with a good strong beat... now we know why.
4. He wouldn't open closed doors, even though he was tall enough and knew how, unless we were behind him instructing him to open the door, he wouldn't do it... now we know why. (Turns out most children won't open doors if they can't hear what's behind the door).
5. He never babbled (not like his sister does), he just screamed (see #2)... now we know why.
6. The few words he did start speaking were mainly made up of vowels, because that is what he could here (for example a dog barking wasn't "Ruff" it was "uuu, uuu")... now we know why

We have found humor in the situation as well. For example, I told my husband the other day that when our son is school age and the students ask him what is in his ear he can say that it is an earpiece for the government and he is actually a secret agent, and then pretend to get a secret message and run away. We've also realized that when he is a teenager he can take out his hearing aids and pretend that he can't hear us when we say something he doesn't like.

The days go on and things are getting better. Like any big change your in life, it just takes some adjusting to, but the fact is you do adjust. When I first started writing this little series of mine, I intended it to be a one-article story. However, as I started writing I found I had more to say than just "here's what happened." It has been very therapeutic for me and I thank all of you who have read it through and supported me with your comments. My intention in writing this was to let everyone know you are not alone out there. Raising children is hard and things don't go exactly as planned. For whatever reason we seem to convince ourselves that this time life will do as we tell it to, but the Lord kindly reminds us that He is in charge. In part 1 a reader shared a link for the following story, I will end my comments here, but for anyone who is interested please continue reading. It spoke to my heart, and I can't wait to see what Holland holds for me.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

Processing: Personal Experience Part 2

Then the emotions hit. According to the Kubler-Ross model I should be undergoing denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I seem to be making up my own stages as I handle my son and his hearing loss. I never went through denial or bargaining. The doctors showed me the results from four different tests and I can't argue with scientific proof. There is a small part of me that says "are you sure?" But the larger part of me wants to take action, it says "what do I need to do?"

Instead I go through anger, blame, guilt, frustration, and acceptance.

Anger - I'm angry with the doctors for not listening to me sooner. I was the one who initiated contact with an audiologist, no thanks to my pediatrician. I am angry with the health department and their not-accurate hearing test. Fluid on the ears?! HA!

Blame - this is the hardest one for me. I blame the doctor (see anger). I blame my husband, maybe he shouldn't have tickled our son so hard, thrown him up in the air, wrestled with him, the list goes on. As time goes on I blame him for working while I handle the doctors, insurance reps, babysitters, and therapy. It's a silly blame, but I often feel so alone in this. But mostly, I blame myself. Was there something I should have done differently? I had a rather perfect pregnancy, but maybe I should have drank more water, refrained from having that corn dog, been more careful about heating up my deli meat. Then there is the whole issue of the labor and delivery. Did his hearing loss occur after being in labor for 28 plus hours and pushing for two? Should we have opted for a c-section sooner? I can't bare to think about it. Or was it when my milk supply started to dry up and I didn't know it, not until he started losing weight? So many things go through my head. The geneticist reassures me that unless I was abusing drugs or alcohol or deathly ill during pregnancy, there was absolutely nothing I could have done differently.

Guilt - you would think the guilt would come from the blame, but this guilt hits me on my blindside. My son has only mild permanent hearing loss, as I start to talk to other families I realize their child's hearing loss is much more severe. They are going in for surgeries and wearing cochlear implants. I suddenly feel guilty for taking this so hard, for stressing out over the day-to-day maintenance of it all. It could be so much worse, who am I to complain?

Frustration - this one is much more complicated. It's the every day routine we are now in. It's the struggle to keep a two year old from pulling out his hearing aids, of searching the store for size 13 batteries, of cleaning and maintaining the hearing aids. It's the hours I now spend in the car as I take my husband to work, my daughter to the babysitter, my son to therapy, home from therapy, pick up our daughter, pick up my husband. How do I know when my son is being a two-year old and ignoring me or simply can not hear me? It's the application of the newest technique they've taught me at therapy, the phone call from his mother's day out when they can't get his hearing aids back in, the exhaustion of it all. It's the opinions I get from all sides of what I should or should not be doing. Sign language or no sign language? It's the realization that grandparents now seem to be afraid to take the kids for the weekend because the hearing aids intimidate them. But mostly, it's the frustration that both my son and I receive when communication fails. I can't understand him and he can't make himself understood.

Some days are rough. My husband comes home from work and takes over the bedtime routine. I curl up in bed, hiding from the stress that threatens to crush me. My husband comes in and holds me till it passes. He somehow transfers some of his strength to me. With a good night's rest, I will be as good as new to handle a new day.

Acceptance - it comes little by little as we fall into a routine. The hearing aids are staying on more often than not, his speech is progressing slowly, and we are making progress. I am learning as I go and have quickly learned to take it one day at a time. Line upon line, precept upon precept. I turn to the Lord in my thoughts and prayers more often. Our son will never remember a life without hearing aids and for him it will become second nature. I hope that one day soon it will become second nature for me as well.

Whirlwind: Personal Experience Part 1

"Your son has mild permanent hearing loss." The words bounce around in my head.
"Oh, okay," I say. "What does that mean?"
"Well, we want to run a few more tests to confirm our findings, but it will mean hearing aids and auditory and verbal therapy."
"Oh, okay." My daughter lurches forward and fusses, I hand her a toy to distract her. The audiologist peers at me closely, concern in her eyes. She is under the impression that I am taking this all rather well. I smile and nod as the audiologist and speech pathologist explain the steps we need to take from here, show me a chart of what my son can and can not hear. The information is thrown at me quicker than I can absorb.

It's not until I am strapping the kids into their car seats that my heart starts to drop. My son has hearing loss? HEARING LOSS! It was the last thing I expected to hear. Sure he had never passed his newborn hearing screening and is behind in his speech, but by golly, the doctors kept telling me it was just because of fluid in the ear. Take care of the fluid, take care of the problem. I was expecting at most that he would need tubes in his ears.

I call my husband at work. "How did it go?" he asks.
"Good, he was such a trooper, they did four different tests on him, plus some more stuff. Umm, can I pick you up for lunch?" I can't explain it over the phone.
"Sure..." he sounds hesitant. I am worried he has something going on, I can't go the whole afternoon without talking to him, my husband, my help meet. "No," he reassures me, "I can go to lunch."

He gets into the car and I start in on the explanation I've been reciting in my head for the 25 minute car ride to his workplace. "He will need hearing aids and therapy," I recite.
"Are you serious?" my husband asks.

Then come the phone calls, my side of the family, his side of the family. I spend all afternoon on the phone, explaining, answering questions I barely know the answer to myself. My mom's response is, "Are you serious?" Do I sound like I'm joking? By the end of the day I'm emotionally exhausted. We are going out for dinner that night.

Within weeks, the hearing aids are fitted, therapy is scheduled. There will be two different sessions, a one-on-one therapy and a class therapy. The important thing is to prepare him for school. Both sessions will be held weekly. Insurance does not cover hearing aids or anything hearing related. They will only cover the therapy if it is listed as a specific type of speech therapy. I will need to find a babysitter for our daughter twice a week. The audiologist instructs us on how to fit, clean, and take care of the hearing aids. The batteries must be replaced weekly. There is special cleaning solution and dry crystals and a container that the hearing aids must be kept in nightly. We will need to do a genetic test to make sure the hearing loss is not a sign of something bigger.

I suddenly feel very overwhelmed.

I've been in contact with the state's early intervention program. They will subsidize the therapy and hearing aid costs until he's three, when we will be turned over to the school districts. He will be reevaluated when he turns three.

It's been a few months later and I am still processing everything. An interpreter for the deaf asks me if I have reached the acceptance stage yet. I tell her I don't know. I've been told that we will go through the same stages of grief as one who has lost a family member to death. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

I'm not sure where I'm at in those stages, I'm just acting. I'm just taking it one day at a time, trying to do what's best for my child, and all the while worrying that it won't be enough.

Question & Answer

Our first question comes from an anonymous source. It asks: "how do you deal with getting a degree but staying at home to raise your children instead of using your degree?"

Good question and one that I don't have a simple answer for. You will often hear me muttering under my breath that I got a degree so I could stay home and wipe snotty noses, argh. Then there are the days when the kids are being super cranky and ornery and I think to myself, "I don't have to do this! I don't have to be here! I can put you in daycare and work outside of the home." Not to mention the temptation of money, especially when I think about it long enough. My husband and I could be making a combined salary of six digits! Think how fast we could pay off student loans, save up for future college funds, and the oh-so many more things you can do with money. Sigh.

So, how do I deal with it? I can separate it into three reasons for you.

First, I completed my degree for the sake of an education, not a career. Sure, I chose my degree with a career in mind, but in all honesty, I really just love learning. Ever read Harry Potter? You can compare me to Hermione. If I could, I would just be a professional student. There are so many things for me to learn and I want to learn them all. The hardest thing I've done was narrow my education down to one topic. I love going to class, feeling the textbook in hand, being challenged by assignments and exams. I just love it all.

Second, is the confidence that comes with a degree. I have that confidence that comes from completing something difficult. I have the confidence that comes with knowing I could get a job if needed. I can walk in to pretty much any job and not only expect, but demand a higher wage simply for completing a degree. When things started to get a little shaky at my husbands employment last year there was the confidence that I could go back to work and support the family until he found another job. That alone is worth all of my student loans.

Third, and most important in my mind, is the message I am sending to my children. Hopefully they will grow up knowing how important receiving their education is to their father and I, simply because we have received an education. I hope they will make it their goal. I am also sending them the message that they are way more important than a fancy resume with a nice salary. More specifically is the example I am setting for my daughter. I am showing her that an education is important and to receive it, even if you plan on staying home with your children some day.

An education is extremely important to me and something I plan to continue to pursue. It is the best thing I have ever done for myself and I am finding, the best thing I have done for my family.

I will not...

I will not kill my children.
I. will. not. kill. my. children.
I will NOT kill my children.
I Will Not Kill My Children.
I will not KILL my CHILDREN.
I will not kill my children.
I will not kill my children.
[cue the deep breath]

Here's hopin' my children make it to another morning. It's 10:00am and already one of those days.

Stressed

I've been a bit stressed lately. Why... is a topic for another day. Today's topic is the result of stress. Sometimes when stressed I get depressed. I shut-down. I don't want to do anything, see anyone, or talk to anyone. This happens rarely and is usually coupled with something else (ahem, pregnancy hormones pumping through my body). Normally I get agitated and focus my energies into cleaning.

And I clean and clean. In two days alone I cleaned my kitchen, living room, laundry (this included folding and putting away the clothes, which I hate), swept and mopped my entire house (which is no small feat considering my entire house, except for the bedrooms, is a combination of laminate and tile flooring), and dusted. All of this on top of my day-to-day taking care of the kids, making dinner, and the hours I've spent outside of the home attending to other things. What makes it even better is I haven't given in to the second part of my stress-ness - eating junk food. I like my comfort food and have been craving a nice juicy burger all week. Instead I've made dinner at home and kept within our new healthy-living eating habits. Tonight's menu: Veggie burgers, hopefully it will curb my burger craving. Hopefully.

My husband has said I need to get out by myself, maybe go to Barnes & Noble or something. However, due to obligations in the evenings between the two of us this hasn't happened yet. Maybe it's time to take this energy to the spare bedroom and finish unpacking and finally set up my office?

All of this has made me curious - what do other people do when they are stressed? Are you a cleaner like me? Or do you curl up with a pint of ice cream and a good chick-flick? And how do you manage your stress? Do you have a hobby that helps take your mind off things? Or do you go drool over all of the books at Barnes & Noble?

Swagger Wagon

While watching the "Dad Life" video from Church on the Move, I came across this video, and well, it was too funny not to share. Hope you enjoy it.