The Art of Giving

     My mom loves giving gifts.  It is one of her favorite things in life.  For as long as I can remember she has always loved wandering around stores to find the perfect thing that she knows people will love.   Gifts are so much more to her than little trinkets for the recipient.  It is a way to say "I love you."  It is a way to say "I'm thinking about you."  It is a way to say "I know you."  She is not just giving gifts because that is what you are supposed to do.  The joy that she gets from the giving is just as important as making the person happy when they receive it.  My grandma felt the same way and so I've learned the joy behind giving all my life.  Sometimes I think that people say "No more toys." because they don't understand the joy of giving.  To some people it is not about the trinkets, it's about the joy.

     My seven year old had a birthday party this weekend.  She invited her whole class and by the time of the party arrived we had about twenty kids that showed up for Pizza, Games, and Strawberries.  All those things were adamantly requested by the birthday girl.  Every time I write invitations to a party I always say "Your presence is present enough."  I never want people to feel that a gift is required.  However, being raised by my mother, I always add suggestions in case people feel inclined.  When people showed up with bags and boxes I instructed where to put their gifts.  The party went on and we played the games my little lady had requested.  She wanted to play all her favorite games and be the one that was "it" every time.  Floor is lava, Red light Green light, Simon Says, Wax Museum, and Hide and Seek were the majority of the fun.  After they enjoyed their games and their pizza I wondered if we should open presents.  Most kid parties we go to, the kids don't actually open the presents at the party.  This made me question if I should let her open her gifts.  Being the rebel I am, I decided to allow it and I'm so glad that I did.

     Surrounded by a sea of children ages three to ten I confidently yelled "Present Time.  Time to open presents."  They all came rushing in a wave.  Most of them super eager to make sure my seven year old opened their gift first.  The joy on all of their faces as their present were unwrapped was beyond measure.  The excitement in their little bodies as they anticipated their present being unwrapped was beyond measure.  The pride beaming from expressions as their present was unwrapped was beyond measure.  I knew that each one of those kids had carefully thought about my little girl and picked out something special for her.  Most of them even hand made cards for her or put something special in the ones that were bought from the store.  Yes the gifts were definitely for my newly seven year old.  However, allowing her to open all her gifts with her friends was a gift to them as well.  Every time my little lady would pick out another package to open I would say "Who is this one from?"  One of the little tikes gathered around my girl would excitedly exclaim "That ones mine!" or "That ones from me!"  Then they would passionately help her open the parcel they wrapped and sometimes tell her what it was before she had time to figure it out. 

     I totally understand why some parents wait to open presents until the party is over.  It is chaos.  It is messy.  It is unpredictable.  What if my kid doesn't like the gift and has a bad reaction?  What if the other kids get jealous and start fighting?  What if we lose pieces of the gift as it is ripped open in excitement?  There were any number of reasons not to let my birthday girl open the presents until we got home but then we would have missed out on such a sweet experience between her and her friends. Sometimes when you let go of somethings you get so much more in return.  Having structure and control of every aspect might make things neater and more predictable.  However, when I give in to the chaos of children, sometimes beautiful things happen.  Giving in to the mess makes so much more beauty from the pandemonium.  Letting my birthday girl open her gifts was a gift for everyone.  And that's a gift that I will truly treasure.  

Kids are not Embarrassing

 

     My kid's behavior does not embarrass me.  I am a grown adult so I try not get flustered by things that happen out of my control.  That includes the ways my children behave.  Don't get me wrong I don't want my kids to be jerks in public and we are all working on that.  My kids acting out does not mean I am a bad mom, it means that they are being children.  My kids dressing in weird clothes does not mean I am a bad mom, it means they are learning their style.  My kids crying does not mean I am a bad mom, it means they are having feelings. Kids are not born knowing exactly how to behave in public.  Instead of shaming my kids for doing something my job is steer them into more acceptable behavior so they can make better choices. While they are going through this learning process I'm not embarrassed by others' reaction.  They're responses to my children's behavior is not my concern.  Loving and supporting my children is what I'm more concerned with. 

     The grocery store is a great learning experience and a great equalizer.  So many different types of people can be found at our local grocery store and my three year old is going to say hello to all of them.  Most people are very receptive to her cute little conversations.  However, every once in a while her adorable greetings can be annoying to some.  I'm teaching her to try and not be a nuisance.  My job is to explain to her that some people don’t want to talk to you in the grocery store.  I'm not judging those people.  I usually try to think that they are having a rough day or maybe they are just in a big hurry.  Possibly kids might creep them out, I know my kids can be creepy.  Whatever the reason, I'm trying to teach my super sociable toddler to understand some people just don't want to talk to you sometimes.  Awkwardly she usually yells at them or tries to stare them down as they walk away.  This is all part of the learning process and I am not embarrassed by my three year old shopping cart stalker.  

     My seven year old has her own unique sense of style.  From the time she was two she started dressing herself in fun and unconventional ways.  Some days she would wear pajamas, some days she would wear her underwear outside her pants, and some days she would wear two tiaras with a ballerina costume.  Whatever she decides to wear it is always interesting and fabulous.  She gets such joy out of coming up with her fashion creations.  Now that she is in first grade I have tried to steer her into more school friendly attire.  However, every once in awhile she will still put on a crazy headband or bow to jazz things up.  We have been in public spaces many a time while she is dressed like a person that escaped from a mental institution.  People will always stare and sometimes we get the occasional judgmental gasp.  Everyone once in a while we will get a person, usually an elderly lady, who just gushes over her fabulousness.  I'm sure this joy goes both ways as these women remember their own kids or grandkids who used to have the same fashion sense.  My sweet girl always gives a spin and says thank you.  I'm proud that she has that kind of model confidence and I am not embarrassed by my seven year old fashionista. 

     Would I go to the grocery store and aggressively yell "HI!" to strangers?  No.  Would I wear a prom dress to walk at the park with my friends? No.  Am I totally mortified that my kids do crazy things like this all the time? No.  The last thing that I want is for my girls to feel is responsible for someone being embarrassed by their actions.  We can't control other people we can only control our reaction to them.  I don't need to put any shame on top of my children because they are going to get enough of that from the world around us. Support and love are the only things I want them to feel from this Momma, no matter how they are.  As their mom I will obviously try to correct bad behavior especially if it is unkind.  However, my kids' whole sense of being is perfect to me.  My feelings toward their awkward extraordinary actions is always adoration. Is my three old going to be chasing down grocery store patrons when she is 20?  Probably not.  Is my seven year old going to be wearing tiaras to her job everyday when she is grown?  Probably not. Am I still going to be just as proud and in awe of them?  YES!  Although when they are adults I will probably be really good at embarrassing them.  

Mom Fail vs Mom Full

 

     I hate the term "mom fail".  I hate these words more than any two other combinations of words on the planet.  As far as I am concerned there is no such thing as a  mom fail because moms are human and we all make mistakes.  Being a mom is such a demanding job that should never be seen as failing.  Most days we are just surviving.  Some days my husband will come and I will just yell "They are alive.  You're welcome."  This was especially during the summer months when I was severely outnumbered by my little angels.  Why are other people allowed to make mistakes without being labeled a failure ?  Why do moms get the pressure to keep everything together and when they don't it is a failure?  Why do we give grace to everyone except the moms who need it the most?

     I remember clearly the first time I heard one of my friends say Mom fail.  I was sitting at the park with my toddler and she had hers.  They were both playing lovely until all of sudden they weren't.  Toddlers do that a lot.  I gave my little girl a drink of water and of course the other toddler was irate that she was also dying of thirst and needed water immediately.  I watched my friend frantically search through her diaper bag only to discover that she had forgotten the sippy cup that day.  She looked at me and said "I forgot her water. Ugh!  Mom Fail."  I said "What?!?!"  I was so aghast by how she thought the lack of a sippy cup was a failure on her part.  I proceeded to list off all the things that she did bring.  Snacks, diapers, wipes, butt cream, extra clothes, a jacket, hair ties, baby tylenol, bandaids, and sunscreen but forgetting one sippy cup of water makes her a failure.  I wasn't hearing any of this ludicrousness.  She laughed at my rant but deep down I was very upset by this new phrase that had been added to my vocabulary.

     My girls forget things all the time.  I always joke "They would forget their heads if they weren't attached."  Every morning before school I remind them of their backpack, water bottles, folder, socks, shoes, homework and everything else that they need for a successful day at school.  No matter how many times I remind them of their things they sometimes forget one of the many items.  However, I would never tell my first grader that she failed because she forgot her water bottle for school.  I would never say "Seven Year Old Fail!" as she walked in the door after school.  Why is forgetting something a failure?  If my husband forgets the milk on the way home from work we never think to yell "Husband Fail."  Why are we so quick to say Mom Fail?  I would never dream of calling anyone else a failure.   Attaching the word fail to the people I work so hard to care for seems ridiculous.  I think it is equally as ridiculous to insinuate that any mom is failing.     

     To this day I have never heard anyone say Dad Fail, Sister Fail, Brother Fail, Mailman Fail, Cashier Fail, Kid Fail,  or any other failure as a person.  So why is the term "Mom Fail" so easily and frequently used.  Maybe it is a way to disarm people when they expect too much from moms.  Maybe it is a way to relieve some of the mom guilt  when we forget something while taking care for tiny humans.  Maybe it is because moms are held to a standard that is unattainable.  Whatever the reason, the term "mom  fail" is no longer in my vocabulary.  If my kids are alive I'm winning, not failing.  If my kids are kind I'm winning, not failing.  If my kids feel loved I'm winning, not failing.  Let's be kind to each other and ourselves.  From now on instead of saying "Mom Fail" let's say "Mom Full" because our brains are full of everything.  Playdates, snacks, dinners, schedules, homework, shopping lists, and so many other things.  So next time I drop one of thousands of balls I'm juggling I will gladly yell #Momfull!  Then maybe I could get a break...but probably not. 

Somethings Gotta Give

       I'm a mom.  That means I'm overworked, over demanded, and over stimulated.  As a result I've been gone from one of the things I love for a while.  I'm super excited to be writing again.  I have missed all my social media friends and all my free therapy from all us moms climbing the same mountain while raising these children.  Luckily my kids are still alive but just barely.  Quick breakdown of the reasons I was gone for so long include school, work, kids, and chaos.  In May my girls had so many projects due at the end of school which meant I had projects due for school.  So it was very difficult to find time to write.  In June I had tons of projects due for work.  So it was very difficult to find time to write.  In July I was traveling with my kids which made them extra needy.  So it was very difficult to find time to write. The moral of this hiatus story is that when you are a mom something's gotta give.  Unfortunately for me the "something" was my writing and social media parent groups.

     Most moms are spread too thin.  We all know that we have too many things to do in day and not enough time to do those things.  When I get more things added to my plate something that was already on my plate gets pushed off.  Unfortunately for me the things that I enjoy most for myself is what loses the battle for space.  It never happens all at once.  It is a slow process.  For me it all started in May with the end of the year school projects.  I had a third grader that needed to study and write a report about Jane Goodall.  Then I had to make her a Jane Goodall costume for her Wax Museum presentation.  My first thought was "I can skip the blog for one week.  There is too much to do right now to take time to write."  The next week my first grader needed to participate in a Kindy-500.  We live close to Indianapolis, IN so the Indianapolis 500 is very celebrated.  I was required to build a cardboard car for my sweet little six year old.  She of course requested a car that looked like a sheep so I glued 1,500 cotton balls onto this cardboard box to make it look like a sheep.  The end of school requires a lot of work for parents to make it over the finish line.

   After school let out I was so excited to start writing again.  Little did I know that the lack of schedule of summer would make it almost impossible.  I was now tending to all my children and had become a full time referee.  When any of my little minions were awake there was fighting.  From sun up to sun down I was constantly putting out fires and trying to come up with things for my girls to do so my girls weren't on top of each other.  During this transition into summer days the demands from my work and my husband's travel schedule caused my writing again to get pushed down the list.  I was exhausted all summer and not to mention poor from the amount of food my three angels were consuming. Even Costco was having a hard time keeping up with my children's snack demands during the hot summer days.  Stupidly I thought to myself  "The last month of summer would be better if we can just get into a routine then I can start writing and working out again."  The problem with my logic is the definition of summer is a lack of routine.  Late bedtimes, no alarms, no schedules makes it much more difficult to find a regular time to write.     

     School has finally started again and this house is taking a big sigh of relief.  I have some of my time back to myself to do things that fill my momma cup.  Even though we are so much busier with the demands of school, the strict schedules seem to add extra time for me to squeeze in some things that were lost in the chaos of summer.  The first day of school marked the first day I had worked out in three months.  The first day of school marked the first day I had written in three months.  The first day of school marked the first day I had done something for just me in three months.  My kids are also happier.  They missed their friends and their structure.  I love my crazy summers with my three girls and as they get older I am learning to cherish this time more.  However, we are all happy to get back to our normal life and routines.  And this Momma is very happy to be writing again.  

Messy Potty Training

      I hate potty training.  We are on our third round of potty training and every experience has been torturous in different ways for each one of our girls.  All of our little ladies are extremely different.  Therefore each time we suddenly arrived at the potty training time frame it was new and different.  Instead of being able to use the same techniques that worked with the previous girls we were forced to relearn every time.  I have always felt like we are reinventing the wheel for each horrible potty training experience. This is the the last time and that is one thing that makes me happy. 

     Our first little lady was potty resistant which was told to us by our pediatrician.  She refused to have anything to do with the potty.  She didn't want to sit on it or look at or even talk about anything that had to do with the potty.  As a result when she was three and half our pediatrician informed us that we just needed to take away all the diapers to force her to start using the potty.  We  did as we were told and put her in big girl pants.  My strong willed little girl held her pee for 36 hours.  I remeber sobbing on the bathroom floor begging her to go potty.  I was saying "Just pee on the floor I don't care. You don't have to sit on the potty." I'm pretty sure at one point her grandma offered to buy her a pony if she actually went potty.  Incorrectly I thought the next one can't be worse than this.

     Our second little lady decided to start potty training on her own.  The bad news was my strong independent lady made this decision three days before we left on a two week vacation.  We were set to have one week to visit family and then go to Disney World the next week.  I tried to support her decision so part of our Magical Experience was touring all the bathrooms of Disney.  The day before we left we found out that we were unexpectedly pregnant with our third.  After an exhausting potty training experience while on vacation we then told her that she was going to be a big sister.  This sparked a potty regression that was followed by another potty regression nine months later when her sister was born.  I was pretty sure that it felt like had been potty training her for ten years. 

     Our last little lady has recently decided to potty train herself.  I mean this literally.  After our first two experiences I was dreading potty training again.  I was mentioning it occasionally and we were reading books about it every once in a while but for the most part I was putting off starting the process.  A few weeks ago my current three year old was mad at her six year old sister.  She took a cup that had been monogramed for her sister for Valentines day and pooped in it.  My husband and I were shocked.  We realized that she apparently had the skills to actually use the potty if she was able to poop in a cup with no mess.  That is very impressive.  Begrudgingly we switched her big panties with very low expectations.  Much to my surprise she has gone potty every time and actually does it without asking for us to help or anything.  It's been two weeks and things are going great. 

      Why am I telling you all these stories?  Mainly to explain that nothing about potty training makes sense. Potty training is crazy.  I read every article and book that I possibly could during our potty experiences.  At the end of the day each of our ladies had to decide to do it on their own.  I could not force anyone to physically go potty.  during the rough times I would hear my mom echoing in my ears "They will not be 16 and still wearing diapers."  Potty training is the just the beginning of a long journey with my girls were I need to encourage them to make the right decisions.  They are in charge of their choices and my job is love them no matter the choices they make.  This is the same for potty training or anything else that comes our way.  I will stand by my girls in the bathroom and in life.  Potty training is the worst but we will all survive ...hopefully.

Messy Squeezy

     We all have times that we need to refill.  Pretend you are a bucket, a cup, or a sponge whichever metaphor you chose that accurately describes parenting.  Whatever I am full of is always what spills out when I am put under pressure.  Parenting comes with a lot of pressure.  There is pressure from the school, my kids, my spouse, my boss, and tons of other people that I encounter on a daily basis.  Somedays I am super happy how I react under that pressure.  Somedays I am super disappointed by what has spilled out.  Unfortunately it spills out on all the people I love.

     There are two times of my day that are the most stressful with my three kids.  In the Mornings before my older girls get on the bus and also right after the girls get off the bus before dinner.  These are the times when my house is filled with the most chaos.  For those who don't have school aged children let me enlighten you about my mornings.  The alarm goes up and I barely have time to pee before the yelling starts. Do you want to pick out your clothes or do you want me to do it?  Did you brush your teeth?  Did you brush your hair?  Did you put your deodorant on?  These questions keep repeating until I am yelling like a crazy person.  When my kids are finally done with their normal getting ready tasks we move on to feeding them.  By this time my toddler has joined the mix and is yelling and screaming at me.  While she is demanding Pop Tarts and snuggles I am still trying to get my kids ready for school.  On a good day I will have time to at least get the coffee started before the girls get on the bus.  However, my first few sips of that precious nectar most often never occur until after the bus has pulled away.  In the last few moments of my hectic morning time I am yelling things like Socks! Shoes! Water Bottle! Mask! Computer! Homework! Coats! and a million other things.  It's exhausting and most mornings I lose my cool and spill my irritation all over my sweet girls.  My only redeeming factor is that I kiss them on the forehead and tell them I love them everyday before they step on the big yellow bus. 

       The same things happen when the bus returns home.  Everything is dropped in the entryway and I am bombarded with questions.  Where's my snack?  Can I have a drink?  When is Daddy coming home? Not soon enough is always the answer to the last one.  All this hustle and bussle is happening while I am trying to get dinner ready.  On the very good days I answer all their questions with a smile and hug.  These good days only happen if I was able to be refilled during the school hours.  However, if I have been drained during my day I easily snap at my girls.  I ask them to go away.  I tell them to give me a minute.  On these days it does not mean that I love them any less.  It just means that I did not have a chance to recharge.  It mean that I did not have a chance to relax.  It means that I did not have a chance to do anything cup filling for me.  I hate when I spill out my frustration on my girls but I am only human.

       There are a lot of things I can do to fill up.  Sometimes it is baking something I know my girls will love when they get home.  Sometimes it is finding a few minutes to work out.  Sometimes it is when I write this blog.  I have also found ways to recharge while doing my daily activities.  Putting on a sappy movie while folding laundry or listening to an inspirational podcast while doing the dishes has all been rewarding for me.  I have discovered that if I take the time to do these things in my busy life I am less likely to snap at my sweet girls.  In the mornings I can be more calm if I know that I'm going to get a few moments to sip hot coffee after my girls go off to learn.  I can keep my blood pressure low and look forward to my girls returning home if I have had time to recharge during the day.  Most days I'm not going to get that chance to refill.  Most days I'm going to snap at my ladies because they are all coming at me all at once.  Most days I'm going to go to bed disappointed in my actions.  I always tell my girls that tomorrow is an another day to make better choices.  If I can extend that grace to them I can definitely do it for myself too.  Tomorrow I will try to do better to refill my cup.  

Messy Twin Day

     My girls love spirit dress up days for school.  As a mom I hate spirit dress up days for school.  We usually  try to make sure that they have their outfits picked out the night before but it still makes for a crazy morning.  We have been through every theme day you can imagine.  Grinch day, Favorite Team day, Rockstar day, Crazy Hat day, Crazy Sock day, Crazy Hair day, and every color day that you can imagine are just a few of the wild things we need to come up with for spirit weeks.  My mornings are already chaotic and adding a dress up day always boosts the level of chaos.  This week was "Kindness Week" at our elementary school.  However, on Twin Day there was not a lot of kindness that was being shown.

     My nine year old is super excited for any reason to dress up at school.  Twin day was on Wednesday this week.  On Tuesday I reminded her by saying "Make sure you ask someone to twin with you and decide what you are going to wear."  To my surprise when I got home from work on Tuesday night my third grader was still awake.  She saw me as I was checking in on her and instantly started sobbing.  Through her crying I was able to decipher that nobody wanted to be her twin at school.  I knew that wasn't the whole truth so I probed to get more of the story.  She had asked one of her good friends to be her twin and that friend was already twinning with another girl.  Her friend suggested that they be triplets.  The other girl, who does not like my daughter, assertively said no.  This exchange broke my sweet girls heart into a million pieces.  As a result she shut down and refused to ask anyone else to be her twin. 

     I know that in the grand scheme of things twin day is not the end of the world.  However, to my sweet little lady it was.  For my nine year old this encounter was worse than a massive car wreck.  She cried for about an hour and it broke my heart.  Not wanting her to cry herself to sleep alone I insisted she sleep in our bed.  Reassuring her that others would have been her twin if she would have asked did not help. Explaining when she feels like she doesn't belong she always belongs to us did not help.  Suggesting other options like dressing as her favorite tv character tomorrow didn't help.  She was hurting and couldn't hear any of it.  Additionally all of my suggestions were stupid because she is nine and I am her mother.  She was tired which amplified her emotions and I knew things would look different in the morning.  The next morning she decided to wear all black to school.  I thought maybe this is the beginning of her emo goth phase.  Then I wrote an email to the teacher to make her aware of the situation.  She handled it amazingly and I love that she is our teacher this year. 

     My girls are going to get left out that is part of life.  My girls are going to get their hearts broken.  My girls are going to have some crying days.  Even though I know this it doesn’t make it any easier when it happens.  When my girls are hurting I am hurting too.  I wish I could stop them from feeling all the hurt because that has been part of my job since they were born.  During that rough night I was telling my sobbing nine year old that this would make her stronger one day and she was screaming "I DON'T WANT TO BE STRONGER!"  I felt her pain and agreed that getting stronger is the worst.  

     Twin day is the worst.  Getting stronger is the worst.  Learning life lessons the hard way is the worst.  I wish I could learn these lessons for them and they didn't have to go through all the pain.  Unfortunately that is not how life works.  The good news is we have all been left out and then suddenly found our place where we belong.  We have all been rejected and then found acceptance with someone better.  We have all been outcasted and then found our favorite friend.   As their mother I will hug them, cry with them, and let them sleep in my bed so they don't feel alone.  The best I can do is let them know that they will never be alone since I am their Mom.  They will always belong to me whether they like it or not.  Hopefully someday they will appreciate that.  Until then I will just keep giving the stink eye to the girls that are mean to them.  Like a good mother should.

Messy Village

     I never understood the phrase "It takes a village to raise a child" until I actually had a child.  Even if you only have one child it still takes a village to raise them.  I always say the more people in my kids lives the better.  We moms need our village in many different ways.  Sometimes I need help with household tasks like cooking or cleaning.  Sometimes I need help physically getting the kids places.  Sometimes I need help loving on my littles because I don't have the energy.  Communities are essential for so many different reasons.  They are beneficial for the mom, the kids, and the community.  I am deliberately raising my kids to be part of many different communities.

     This week my nine year old had the word community on her vocabulary test.  Every morning I would ask "What does the word community mean?".  She would answer the definition on the list "A community is a group of people who live in the same area."  Every morning I would say "Well yes but there is more to a community than that."  I would go to explain all the different types of communities and all the benefits of having so many different communities.  She is nine so she would aggressively reply "Mom!  Move on to the next word."  She really just needed to know the quick definition to get the right answer on the quiz.  However, I wanted to make sure that she was aware of all the people in our lives that have supported and helped us.  Trying to show my girls our village is important and teaching them to be thankful for the community is necessary.  Although maybe I should save those lessons when we are not studying for a third grade vocabulary quiz.

     At our family functions I have always been a baby stealer.  This was a trait that I inherited from my aunts.  I am one of the younger cousins in our extended family.  Therefore most of my cousins were having babies before me.  Every time there was a family gathering I was one of the first to muscle my way in a steal a baby.  I was beyond happy to feed a toddler, walk and rock a baby to sleep, or throw a ball with a little kid.  These small actions were fun for me especially since I didn't have kids of my own.  I did not realize how awesome this was for the moms.  Now that I'm on the other side I appreciate someone performing these tasks even more.  Having a family member take my kids literally off of me for a few hours is totally rejuvenating.  Sometimes you don't realize how much you need something until it is happening.  Whenever someone in my family starts to entertain one of my demanding children, it feels like a fifty pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  This village restores me with a break so that I can be a better mom tomorrow.

     Moms are a community by our shared life experience of keeping tiny humans alive.  I love my mom community.  Some of my mom friends are online, some of them live across the street, and some of them live farther away.  Whatever way I find myself connecting with these brilliant mothers they all fill my cup.  My days are long while taking care of my destructive three year old.  The only way I survive this chaotic life is to find solidarity with all my motherhood communities.  Sending a quick message to my online parent group or calling up another mom friend to vent is the only way I make it through most of my days.  As I write this my toddler just poured goldfish and water into a the cup holder of the couch.  Time to send another message while I wait for her to get out of time out. 

     People were not meant to be alone.  This logic translated into a lot of different areas of my life but motherhood is the most important.  The value of my village is indescribable for my sanity.  I love being part of all my different communities.  I love being the one that gives the help to others.   I love receiving help with my littles.  I love that my girls get to grow up seeing all these benefits of our communities.  Showing my girls to be appreciative of all the different people in our village is important.  I never want them to feel alone.  Letting them be proud of helping the community and being helped by the community is great to learn.  So if you need a lasagna or a venting session about your kids I am here for you.  Additionally anyone in my village can take any of my children anytime they want.  Especially when we are trying to study for a vocabulary quiz.   

Dinner Time is Always Messy

     Feeding my children is one of the most difficult tasks I have on a daily basis.  Feeding them three meals a day and snacks makes this one job seem almost impossible.  I have three very different girls with three very different tastes.  Somedays I feel more like a short order cook than a Mom.  Everyday I hear things like "That looks disgusting." or "I can't eat this." or the most common one "EW GROSS!"  Finding something that all my children are extremely happy with is not something that bothers me anymore.  As far as I am concerned I am not here to cater to my girls' extreme tastes.  If that was my ultimate goal it would consume all of my time and energy.  There are so many other things that I need and want to do with my life so making five different meals three times a day would be stupid.  Instead I have decided that it is ok for my children to sometimes be upset during meals or even not eat a meal.

     My six year old has control anxiety disorder.  This manifests in many different ways.  One of her control triggers is if her food is touching.  We bought those plates that separate all the food with dividers.  Brilliantly we thought this solved the problem.  However, one day we didn't have a divider plate clean and she had a meltdown.  Once we discussed things with her therapist she informed us that she needs to learn to eat on a plate without dividers.  It is always a tough decision whether to make my girls better humans or make my life easier.  Honestly if her therapist hadn't told us to, we would have tried to always use the divider plates.  Those amazing gadgets made my life way easier.  Now I know that every once in a while I need to give her food on a normal plate.  Every time I remind her to use her breathing.  Every time I remind her that it all mixes together in her stomach.  Every time I remind her that it is all going to be ok.  All this is happening during her screaming and crying while everyone else is trying to eat dinner.  Dinner time is always lovely.

     Occasionally I find a new recipe that looks awesome.  I summon up the courage and energy to take on something new even though it will probably be met with mixed reviews.  It might take me thirty minutes to make a recipe or it might take over an hour.  The reception of new recipes can never be predicted.  Even dinners I am positive will go over well still remain a mystery.  I could make something like hotdogs for dinner.  My girls love hotdogs.  I put the dinner on the table with confidence that we are going to have no fights during dinner tonight and I can eat in peace.  Absurdly my nine year old says "I hate hotdogs."  This kind of blind siding happens more than I would care to admit.  Other times I will make something like Shrimp Scampi with the certainty that none of my kids will even bother to touch their dinner.  Shockingly all of my girls devoured every bite in seconds.  Predicting meals when it comes to kids eating is impossible.  I have decided to stop trying to figure it out and go with the pasta flow. 

      Who made these food rules?  Who decided that it was ok to have pop tarts and cereal for breakfast but not chips?  I have decided to no longer conform to these arbitrary ideas.  If my toddler wants chips for breakfast I will help her open the bag.  If my toddler wants pop tarts for lunch I will put them in the toaster for her.  With all the struggles I have on a daily basis when it comes to feeding my children, why would I put more restrictions on myself.  Our pediatrician once said that a toddler's nutrition should be averaged over a three day period.  If she eats one good meal every three days I am convinced we are winning the war.  I fight a million battles everyday with my strong willed women and making them eat is something that no longer consumes me.  I will try to monitor things to the best of my abilities and occasionally as them what they want to have for dinner.  Although since there are three of them this usually causes a fight too.  So I'll wait for those rainbow moments when everyone is happy with dinner and we get to have a dinner without crying or complaining.  Let's be honest they will eat will they are hungry.

Messy Mom Brain

      Being a mom is unlike anything else.  It is one thing you will always have for your entire life.  Once you become a mother you will always be a mother.  We all had different things that we did before we were mothers.  Some of us were wives before we were mothers.  However, I know that all of those many hats pale in comparison to the job that is motherhood.  My brain changed the day that I became a mother.  My whole way of thinking and being was shifted when I was put in charge of a tiny human.  A baby that I loved more than I could ever imagine loving anyone.  A little girl whose whole survival relied on me.  A kid that I was charged with guiding through life.  This type of responsibility would be difficult for anyone’s brain.

     There is a show on Netflix called Babies.  It was released in 2020.  The whole show is centered around how babies' brains work during specific milestones.  Eating, Crawling, Speaking, and Sleep are just a few of the things that are studied.  The first episode of this series is called "Love".  This episode focused on the neurological bond between a newborn and the parents.  The aspect that shocked me the most about scanning the brains was what happened to the mom's brain.   When the dad's brain was scanned it went back to normal after about 6 months with a new baby.  When the mom's brain was scanned it never returned to normal.  Even 10 years later the part that was changed in a mother's brain was still changed after 10 years.  They were able to scientifically show what moms have known all along.  Our brains change forever after we have children and we never go back to normal. 

I'm not saying I was normal before I had kids but I know my brain was not broken.  The things that go through your brain as a mom are crazier than before I had kids.  Ideas that have never crossed my mind before are now consuming all my thoughts.  Every danger in the world is instantly filtered into my mom brain and comes out as anxiety or worry.  Suddenly seeing things in this world that could harm this sweet little baby that I am supposed to protect and keep safe.  It is an overwhelming feeling.  Even something mundane like driving a car over a bridge now seems dangerous.  What if I accidentally drive off the bridge and have to get my kids out of the car while it is sinking?  Logically I know that these thoughts are wild.  I know that accidentally driving off a bridge is something that is extremely unlikely.  I also know these wild scenarios did not enter into my brain before my babies were born.  As a result moms forget about dentist appointments but are very capable of remembering where our kids favorite stuffed animals are.

Whether kids came into our life biologically or by other means they all turn our brains to mush.  Their love is exhausting.  Their love is energy draining.  Their love is anxiety inducing.  It is no wonder I can barely remember how old I am most days or when was the last time I took a shower.  All my brain power is being used to care for this amazing tiny ladies.  Making sure that they are clean, fed, clothed, kind, smart, and happy takes every ounce of brain power that I can muster throughout the day.  Once my girls are finally in bed my brain turns off.  Sometimes it is only for an hour or sometimes it is four hours but regardless the time my brain needs to not work.  There is only a short amount of time everyday that my brain is all mine and I like to let it rest.  Despite my broken brain from all these crazy children I am also filled with so much love.  Their love is exhilarating.  Their love is joyful.  Their love is the most rewarding thing that has ever happened in my life.  If a mushy and broken brain is the price I have to pay for loving these girls I would do it a million times over.  I don't need to remember what I had for dinner as long as I remember to love my ladies.  If a fried brain is the price I have to pay to be a mother, it is totally worth it. 

Sick and Messy

     Once my kids started going to school I resigned myself to the fact that we are getting sick.  Kids are gross.  Kids will cough right into your open mouth.  Kids will sneeze right into your open eyeball.  Kids will wipe their runny nose on literally anything.  As soon as one of my kids gets sick it becomes a carousel of sickness in our house.  The sickness keeps going around and around until it has finally hits every family member.  Unfortunately the only family member that doesn't get a sick day is the Mom.  Moms don't get sick days.  Moms don't get days off.  My two year old could care less if I feel like death.  She still needs to be fed.  She still needs to have her diaper changed.  She needs her boo boos kissed and her morning snuggles.  All these things still have to happen whether I feel like it or not.  I could have a migraine so bad that I might actually vomit but I still need to make breakfast for my kids.  I could be losing my voice from post nasal drip but I still have to yell to get my kids to the bus on time.  I could be coughing to the point of being dizzy but I still have to change my toddlers clothes after the decided to play in the bathroom sink.  Mom's don't get days or rest only small moments within those days of sick.

     Feeding these people takes most of my energy especially while I am sick.  I still need to make sure these kids are staying alive even when I feel like I'm dying.  This task does not have to be fancy.  They don't need pancakes made from scratch for breakfast, they just need food. Who decided that chips can't be breakfast?  Who decided that three packages of fruit snacks wasn't an appropriate dinner?  Who decided that a bag of popcorn doesn't qualify as lunch?  These rules were forced upon us and in a state of sickness can be tossed out the window.  It doesn't mean that you should allow fruit snacks for every dinner but it is also not going to kill them.  When all your energy is funneled into getting well the energy has to come from somewhere else. Feeding my children three meals a day plus additional snacks requires a tremendous amount of energy.  Choosing the path of least resistance is a great way to relax and survive.

      As a mom it is hard to rest while you see the world you've made burning down around you.  Logically I know that I have to sit on this couch to get better.  Logically I know that I need to relax so I can take care of my family better.  Logically I know the quicker I heal the quicker I can get back to doing my mom job.  However, it is still hard not to get disappointed when you are sitting while things literally pile up like dishes and laundry.  During my current sickness my two year old has taken it upon herself to become more independent.  One part of me wants to celebrate her new found independence and one part of me wants to hide while she destroys everything.  

      Everyone else gets days off.  Dad's take a day off work and relax and nap.  Kids take a day off school to refresh and feel better.  Nothing piles up during those days that are taken.  The world continues moving like a well oiled machine.  They complete their rest and head back to work or school without missing much.  Moms don't have the same luxury.  Our moments of rest cause a massive pile up in the everyday workings of the house.  When a mom gets sick she comes back to a year's worth of laundry.  When a mom gets sick she comes back to a house that looks like it has been robbed.  When a mom gets sick she comes back to a pantry and fridge that have been ransacked by tiny raccoons.  Everything can be fixed later so it's important to take the time to rest and heal.  When you are at your best you can do the best for your family.  No illness will last forever so take your time to feel better.  It will help you be the best mom you can be.   

Messy Mom Friends

     I have some amazing mom friends. They get me.  They are some of the only people on earth that understand when I tell them my children are jerk faces.  My kids are jerk faces but I also love them so intensely that they are perfect.  They understand the struggle of wanting to kill someone and die for them at the same time. Metaphorically speaking, obviously.  We can talk about being overwhelmed and all the pressures that moms go through.  We can talk about problems with our kids, our husbands, and our families.  We cry, laugh, and scream together over a multitude of things that are happening in our lives.  These amazing people don't care if my house is a mess because they get it.  These beautiful mommas don't care if I haven't showered in four days because they get it.  These strong women don't care if my kids and I are still in my pajamas at three in the afternoon because they get it.  Finding moms friends like these are necessary for my to survival on this parenting road.

     Vulnerability with people is a gift that I have always had.  It was inherited from my mom.  I have always had one of those faces where complete strangers would tell me very intimate things without even realizing it.  When I was younger I thought that everyone spoke in this way.  It wasn't until after I had kids that I realized that this was actually an incredible gift.  I had so many mom friends that were scared to share anything about themselves.  I had so many friends raising kids that were nervous to disclose information about their parenting.  I had so many mommas I knew that were intimidated to give any details about their lives.  My mom friends did not feel that way about me.  Most of these feelings were a result of anxiety from previous judgments.  From the time that tiny baby is put into our arms we are bombarded with things we should and should not do as moms.  We are told the right way and the wrong to be a good mom.  Luckily the people that understand this the most are my mom friends that are living some version of this life right along with me.

      My husband is my best friend but sometimes he doesn't understand what moms go through on a daily basis.  If I take all three of my girls to the grocery store it is always chaos.  More often then I would like to admit I get judgment from other store patrons.  Usually it is because my two year old is standing in the cart, or my nine year old is playing with toys, or my six year old is eating something before we have paid for it.  My mom friends have similar experiences in their own lives so they understand my frustrations and I understand theirs.  However, when my husband takes all three girls to the store he receives praise and compliments from the store patrons.  Usually things are said like "You are a blessed man." or "You’re doing a great job."  or  "What a great daddy."  We are experiencing this parenting thing differently so my mom friends are a huge part of my life because of our shared experiences in this community.

     I love all my mom friends.  I am so blessed to have them in my life.  I am so blessed to have them in my kids lives. I appreciate every mom friend that I have made along this motherhood journey.  Our kids are growing up together and so are we.  Good mom friends understand  that none of us have this mom thing figured out.   Good mom friends understand that we are all doing the best we can.  Good mom friends understand that the most important thing is to love our kids fiercely.  Sometimes a day spent with my mom friends is better than therapy.  Washing my brain while talking to my friends and getting out all my frustrations and worries is essential.  Going through this mom journey is extremely difficult and rewarding all at the same time.  Finding other moms that understand that is one of the best things about this road we are all on.  Come over anytime for coffee or wine or both.  Expect my house, my kids, and myself to be messy but we will have the best time.  

There is Always Enough Messy

      Being raised in a world with a scarcity mentality created the same mindset in me.  There is not enough to go around.  There are not enough hours in the day.  There will never be enough love for everyone.  It took me thirty some years to realize that it was the wrong way to approach things.  There is always enough.  There is plenty of time.  There is enough love for everyone.  I have concluded that I don't need to be in competition with others for resources because there is enough for all of us.  Having fears of scarcity was lending me to creating a "dog eat dog" world.  This internal competition only helps to tear people down and not build them up.  Over the last year I have grown even more in my awareness that there is enough for everyone and we can all build each other up.

     My grandparents were kids during the great depression.  This naturally had a great impact on their lives and our lives as a result.  I remember going out to eat with my grandpa and he would pay us a quarter if we ate all the food on our plate.   Now I know that you don't have to eat everything on your plate.  You can get a box to go too.  However, as a kid I was always told about starving kids in Ethiopia, which wired me to think that someday there might not be enough food for me.  If I failed to finish my food I was wasteful and disrespectful to others that didn't have enough.  I needed to eat all of it now because it might not be available tomorrow.  We do not have the same eating rules for our girls.  Sometimes I don't even need to make my own lunch because I can just eat want my kids left on their plates.  They will eat when they are hungry and I don't need to guilt them into it. 

     I have been a singer and performer since I was very young.  Every time I had an audition instead of building each other up it became an extreme competition.  People auditioning were constantly undercutting each other by hurting feelings.  Even though judging was very subjective, all I knew was that if someone else got the part I didn’t.  As a result of this mindset there was so much wasted energy that I regret now.  Now that I'm older I understand it was a horrible outlook.  I should have known that even if I didn't get that specific role there would always be another role or another solo that would come up soon.  Most of the parts I did get were not celebrated by my peers because of the same scarcity thoughts.  If we all could have celebrated each other's successes instead of mourning for not getting the role for ourselves it would have been a much more enjoyable experience  all around.  I am trying to teach my girls that there is always enough to go around.  I want my ladies to feel comfortable celebrating others' victories because their time will come and they will want people to celebrate with them.  

     When I started to write this blog I was told there are too many blogs.  I was told it wasn't going to go anywhere because there were too many of the same thing out there.  I was told nobody would read it because it's all been written before.  Much to my surprise all those sentiments were extremely wrong.  I found an amazing community of parents that have been extremely supportive.  The social media world wasn't a cut throat world.  Sure there were probably some people who felt that way but that was not the community that I was welcomed into.  Social media has been an extremely uplifting and sharing world that I didn't expect.  Total strangers were inspired by my silly stories.  People I had never met started sharing my musings with their friends.  Along the way these strangers became friends.  These parenting communities have been so warmly welcoming.  We have bonded over loving our children fiercely while losing our minds in the process.  This solitary creates camaraderie and not competition and I'm extremely thankful for that.