mommy

Baby It’s Cold Outside

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Winter has arrived.  At least in New England it has.  My days of escaping the frigidity by spending winters in the Caribbean or Florida are over.  At least for now.  And I’m ok with that.  My husband has armed me with sets of cuddlduds (fancy long underwear), fuzzy slippers, cute winter hats, and high strength moisturizing balms.  I’m all set.

I packed the Christmas decorations away yesterday (yeah, I keep them up for a while. I’m like that).  I am seeking out indoor activities for little O, as well as suiting him up in some super warm winter wear so we can be outside for as long as possible.  We found an amazing gymnastics school that does an open gym session for an hour on Wednesday mornings.  What a wonderful thing! If you are looking for something for your toddler to do to burn some of that crazy energy….check in your area.  I bet there is something like it near you. Even a local YMCA may have a similar program.

My point is, I’m thinking that hibernating for the winter with a toddler may be a whole different animal than adult hibernation.  Let’s face it, I was never very good at the adult version.  My strategy was to run to a warmer climate.  But now, I’m actually looking forward to the snow! Boy, how motherhood changes you!  I truly can’t wait to see O’s excitement for the snow.   I can’t wait to pull him up and down the driveway in a little sled and to watch him play in the white powder.  I know, I’m romanticing the whole scenario.  There will also be wet cold hands, crying, and 6 am snow clearing.  I’m aware.  Yet, I still look forward.  It’s like giving birth has released a euphoric hormone into my brain….and despite the harsh cold realities of the winter freeze, I am still excited and, dare I say, giddy about winter.  Anyone who knows me is wondering what the zombies did with me.  I’m telling you, to coin a lyric from the musical Wicked, “I have been changed for good.”

I am sure I am like a broken record about Gratitude.  It’s very “Oprah-esque,” I know.  It has truly become habit for me.  There was a time when I had to work hard at being grateful. It was a challenge to wrap my head around finding the positives.  Yet, in hind sight, they were all around me.  It’s not just since the birth of O that there is wonder surrounding me.  My life has been blessed from the start.  I just didn’t always see it.  Part of it is my maturing emotionally.  Part of it is my whole heartedly believing in the practice of gratitude.  The rest is part of my brain coming to life.  That’s actually a real thing in regards to motherhood. Check it out.

The more positive I become, the less room I have for negatives.  My mind literally switches them off.  It’s not automatic yet for me.  I have to make the choice to stop listening.  I want to live in Happiness.  I want more Joy.  I want Calm and Peace wrapping around me like a cozy blanket.  I’m sure I seem very Polyanna to a naysayer.  So be it.  I didn’t understand the super power of gratitude, either.  What’s the saying? The secret to having it all…. is believing that you do.  Perspective is everything!

So let the Winter have its due.  Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! Let the weather be frightful.  My heart is warm and bursting.  Just at this moment I am snuggling up to a hot cup of apple cinnamon tea and polishing up my rose colored glasses.  Winters up here can last through March!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, keep warm, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up! Thanks for reading! Xo

 

Flying Solo

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I am sitting in the airport awaiting my flight to West Palm Beach. I am flying solo. That isn’t just a cute quip. I am actually by myself. No husband. No child. They are staying home, having a boys weekend, holding the fort down. I will be readying my house in Florida for my snowbird renter. A quick jaunt, but I’ll be away, nonetheless. I don’t know why I feel the need to give you the details of why I am going. Maybe I don’t want you to think I’m leaving my child for a wild girl’s get away or an “all about me” spa weekend. Although, I wouldn’t judge you if YOU went away for a little fun in the sun or some R&R. I’d probably be jealous. Ha. I know I’d be jealous.  Always digressing.

The reason I am sharing this with you, is because this is significant for me. It will be the first time I will spend a night (let alone two nights) away from my O. I have been with him everyday and every night since the day he was born. I understood that I would be away from him when I made these arrangements. At times, I even looked forward to the little “break.” But the moment I had to walk away from him was harder than I expected. I’m just being honest. I’d like to say I walked away with the wind in my hair and the smell of freedom calling me. But instead, I felt like I was leaving a chunk of my own heart in New England. Say it….”Get a life, Mary!” Well, for 18 months and 4 days, he has been our life. Perhaps I am more of a Mommy than I realized.

It’s funny, because I keep telling my husband that I am ready to leave O with Grammy and be whisked away to Puerto Rico or some un-named island in the Caribbean at a moment’s notice. He is the one that is skeptical of leaving O overnight anywhere. He feels he is too young still for that. I tell him I would have no problem leaving O in her quite capable hands for a little weekend (or more) holiday with my husband. But, now I wonder……is that the truth? Could I stand being away from him for that long? Well, I guess I will see how I do first with two nights.

It’s not like I am worried about O. I am sure he will be quite happy to have Daddy take over the reigns of his day. My beloved is MORE than capable. He is truly Daddy of the Year. He will be silly and say things like, “I don’t know where his clothes are.” Or, ” I don’t know what he eats for lunch!” But the truth is, he can take care of O just as well (or better) than I can. Yes, haters…my husband is amazing in all ways. Suck on that.

My trip has only begun and I am missing both my boys something fierce. Logically, I know it’s a quick and necessary trip. I’ll be home before I know it. I was telling my husband on the way to the airport, that it’s actually good for me to go away on my own. It’s important for me to re-visit my independence every now and then. I truly believe that. It was a huge part of who I was before O. And I’m sure it will be again, when he is a bit older. But the pang in my heart when I left them still shocked me. After a life of travel and adventures, home is where I want to be. It is who I am now. It is my happy place. And boy, do I feel lucky to say that.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thanks for reading! Xo

It Is What It Is

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Well, I don’t know about you, but this holiday weekend has left me completely wiped out.  We hosted Thanksgiving dinner for 10 people and a dog, had my parents visiting with us all week, and had our bathroom remodel project commence.  Well, just about.  There are a few things the contractors still need to attend to.  Getting them back here is going to be a headache for sure.  Ugh.  I am digressing, as usual.  Suffice it to say, I’d like to take a long long bath in our new tub.  That’s a great idea.

Of course, all the happenings I just listed were all fraught with bumps and hiccups.  Isn’t everything? I kept the phrase, “It is what it is,” going around in my head like a mantra.  Cause it’s just the truth.  Nothing turns out like you wish it to.  You can plan your Thanksgiving dinner for 4pm, but, if you are us, it’s more like 6pm.  You can try your hardest to please people, but, if you are me, you usually wind up disappointed at the response.  And you can expect a certain level of workmanship from a craftsman, but if you are a perfectionist like me, their work most likely will come up short.  I sound like I’m whining.  I’m really not.  It’s just an exhausted response…but in my heart of hearts I know it is what it is.

The same goes for our project sibling.  No success with conception to date.   While the “trying” is fun, it’s also exhausting.  After two months of no bun in the oven, I am getting the feeling that it may just not happen.  I promised myself I would be ok with it.  But, of course, I feel the pang of disappointment, even if I am keeping it in check.  I think it’s harder to see the look of disappointment on my husband’s face.  It’s was so easy last time, I think he thought it would happen just as quickly the second time around.  But I know that my body is 2 years older than the last time.  I can feel the difference in my body, though no one might be able to see it.  Do any of you gals in your 40’s or higher know what I’m talking about? It’s so strange.  It’s like aging starts to accelerate from within.  It’s totally weird.  So I truly leave it up to God and the Universe.  It is what it is.  And it will be what it will be.

I find the lack of my ability to control the outcome oddly comforting.  I’m glad it’s not up to me.  I get to sit back and wait and see what happens.  I get to have Faith.  I get to Trust in something greater than myself.  I get to say, “It is what it is” and mean it.  And I am reminded everyday that I am not pregnant, I am so so lucky to have the beautiful child I do have.

Until next time, enjoy your left overs and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  I’m going to soak in a hot tub with a glass of Pinot Noir.  Thanks so much for reading xo.

 

The Other Shoe

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My little O has an issue with shoes.  He doesn’t like to keep them on.  At the moment, he only has one pair.  Imagine my quandary when one goes missing while we are out and about.  Give me strength.

Today’s case was perhaps the most dramatic and maybe the most ironic.  We were at the mall where I JUST purchased for my shoeless Joe, a pair of snow boots and an upsize pair of sneakers that light up. (So fun!).  I figured I should buy a pair of sneakers that he will be in after the winter…as he still fits into his only pair and it was a buy one get one half off sale.  I digress, as usual.  We made our purchase, went to the disappointing play area, we made a diaper change which included an elevator trip, and browsed in a couple stores for Mommy.  It was nearing lunch time, so I figured it was time to get out of Dodge.  We got out to the car and I got him out of the stroller, into his car seat and saw he only had  one shoe on.  !!!!!  What the?! I looked around, it was nowhere.  I put him back in the stroller, threw my diaper bag in the car, cause who needs to lug THAT around longer than necessary, and headed back into Macy’s.  I retraced my steps.  That included going back in the elevator.  Going through the stores which are all the way on the other side of the mall.  3/4 way through retracing my steps I decided, “screw it!”  I may have actually said that out loud.  Yes, in fact, I did say it out loud.  To no one in particular,  just the shoe Gods in general, apparently.  I was sweating by this point.  And due to the fact that I switched from my antiperspirant/deodorant to JUST deodorant due to the request from my husband and his concern for my getting early onset Alzheimer’s…I absolutely stunk.  I was not a happy camper.

We headed back to the parking lot where the mystery began.  I figured, “oh well, I’ll double up his socks in his new sneakers and hope he can walk correctly in them.”  We get to the car, and I see something tan resembling his little boat shoe way under the car….hidden by the wheel, in fact.  I’m happy to see the shoe.  But I’m also pissed at the shoe, because I can’t get pissed at an 18 month old.  Completely irrational, I know.

Mind you, this was all after an early morning Doctor appointment for me, at which O decided to react as if it HIS appointment.  Crying inconsolably and hanging on me pretty much the entire time.  I was the one getting the flu shot kid! It was not my best day.  I say this because I have been accused of pooping rainbows.  Let me tell you, some days are rough.  Sometimes I want to put him down for a nap and drown my sorrows in a bowl of chips and double Downton Abbey episodes.  (God, that sounds good!).  The point is, I have bad days.  I have really sucky days.  And I have days that are awesome. It’s all part of the territory, I suppose.  Sort of like poop on your hands.  Some days your just gonna get poop on your hands and that’s all there is to it.  You just wash up real good and take a deep cleansing breath….pun totally intended.

So what have I learned from this? I’m not really sure to tell you the truth.  Maybe I should have more than one pair of shoes for O? Maybe I should watch more closely to see if we leave a trail when out and about? Maybe it’s just that some days are better than others.  The only thing I am sure of is that no matter what, I’m still the luckiest chick I know.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Xo

SAHM ISO BFF

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SAHM ISO BFF :  Stay At Home Mom In Search Of Best Friend Forever! Well, that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?  But imagine if it was that easy to put it out there and meet other moms and actually become great friends!

I’ve written before about the loneliness of motherhood.  I imagine it is something many stay at home moms deal with at one time or another.  Living several hours away from my family (with the exception of my mother in law, thank god!) proves to make me lonelier than most, I suspect.  Especially with my personality.  Most people assume that because I am a performer, I am an extrovert.  But that is not the case.   I have a very hard time making friends.  And ever since I have had O, I wonder if I am in jeopardy of losing the ones I do have due to lack of contact.

It isn’t for lack of interest in my friends.  Thanks to Facebook I can at least see what they are up to.  I constantly cheer them on, unbeknownst to them, nestled away in my New England haven.  I smile for them. I laugh with them.  I even cry for them.  But we all know Facebook is not real life.  The contact is “virtual.”  It certainly doesn’t leave you feeling like you spent the afternoon with a good girlfriend.  I remember that feeling.  I would feel inspired.  Invigorated.  Like I could take on the world.  Nothing inspires your confidence like time spent with a bestie.

These days I am in toddler world.  From the moment O is awake to the moment he goes down for a nap he consumes my energy.  Once he wakes up it starts again until he is down for the night.  I’m not complaining.  I’m not looking for sympathy.  It is simply the way it is.  He constantly requires my focus.  If I’m not reading to him or feeding him or playing with him, my attention is on where he is and is he burning the house down? or is he sticking his tongue in a socket?  Even giving him his “alone time” to explore and play on his own, takes my focus.  It’s not about hovering.  It’s about the fact that I can’t abandon all thoughts of him to focus on JUST me.  By the time his nap time comes I just want to shut off for a bit.  I use that time to take care of business, if I need to.  But mostly I use it to take some down time.  I use it to do something cathartic for me. I want to piddle in the garden.  I want to work on my latest DIY project for the house.  Whatever it is, the last thing I really want to do is talk on the phone.  I mean no offense to any of my friends.  Most of them are working at that time anyway. And several of them are on the West Coast, so the time difference is impossible.  When I can chat, it’s either 5 am their time, or 9pm my time and I’m already in bed.  Oh the glamorous life I lead!

I guess if I could say something to each wonderful friend I have it would be this:  I miss you deeply and love you dearly.  Although you are not in my everyday life at this point, you are warmly in my thoughts and are absolutely part of the person I am today.  Though it may seem like I am a totally different person….I am not.  I’m still me.  I’m just a Mom now, in addition to all the other crazy hats I wear.  Please don’t think because I have a child now I don’t care to be friends with you.  Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? If you are a friend of mine, I must tell you, you are a pretty special person.  I don’t take that for granted.  Wonderful people are not a dime a dozen.  It’s just that sometimes life (or in this case, a toddler) gets in the way.  Forgive me.  I WILL return to the land of the liberated.  It’s just gonna take a few years.

Until then, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Thanks for reading! Xo

 

 

Sexy Mommy Happy Family

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I recently shared our “project” to attempt getting pregnant again.  As fun as it can be,  it is also quite a commitment.  It requires energy.  Something that after being up since 6am, running around after a toddler since 7:30am, I am on short supply of most days.  It also, I’m finding, requires effort.  I’m not talking  about “the act” itself.  I’m talking about getting myself feeling ready for a “tumble.”  I never thought I’d say this, but feeling sexy can be a challenge for me as a stay at home mom.  So here are a few things I find myself doing to combat that:

I get dressed.  Everyday.  Sweatpants more than two days in a row is bad.  Even if I’m not going out, I put on something that makes me feel good.  Sweatpants don’t make anyone feel good.  They make you feel comfy and cozy….but not sexy.  Now yoga pants can make me feel sexy if paired with a cute lulu lemon top…but again, not worn on consequetive days.  Also, not to be forgotten, I try to wear a sexy bra.  NOTHING is sexy about a jog bra.  NOTHING.

I take the time to put some light makeup on.  This is not for my husband, who literally could care less if I ever put makeup on again. This is totally for me.  Again, even if I’m not going out, it makes ME feel pretty. It’s something small that goes a long way.  Being totally honest, it’s not super easy being the oldest Mom at the story time, or at the market.  In some small way it helps me feel like I might avoid the “Is that your grandson?” comment.  (God help me when THAT happens).

I shave my legs and underarms.  I use a great shaving gel that keeps my skin nice and smooth and hydrated.  Thank you Trader Joes.  I am a big advocate of “au naturale” but let’s be frank, hairy legs and pits don’t scream “sexy time.” I also use lovely lotions on my limbs and a spritz of perfume.  Smelling good is a huge part of being desired by my husband.  I love it when he comes home, embraces me and takes a huge breath to take in my scent.  Let that be a positive experience for him.

Beyond all the superficial things (which are valid), I think there are more important things involved in feeling sexy.  These are things which may not be as simple to do on a daily basis.  I try to challenge myself each day to do something I think I might not be able to do.  Because it gives me confidence.  And confidence is sexy.  I try to find the humor in everything I do and in most experiences, each day.  Because funny is sexy.  I practice gratitude daily because happy is sexy.  I am not always successful in accomplishing these things…but I try.  And trying, is, yup, you bet, sexy.

I understand that these last points are the true keys to feeling and, in fact, being sexy.  Maybe that is the allure of the “older woman?”  Lol!  Maybe it’s the amount of pheromones we ladies on the older side of young emit into the atmosphere? Who knows? Who cares? What I do know is that for me, sexy is as much a state of mind as it is anything else.  You can have the perfect makeup on and the most expensive perfumes…hell, you can be wearing a piece of dental floss from Victoria’s Secret, but if you don’t “own” being sexy, well. you’re just not.  I mean, really…ever have an orgasm when your head wasn’t in the game? Right.  Enough said.  Sexy Mommy signing off.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up.  Xo

 

Halloween 1 Mommy 0

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Ok.  So we are safely into October.  There is a real chill in the air and the leaves are starting to appropriately turn color.  The 31st is literally around the corner and I am completely stumped as what to create for O’s costume.  Mind you, we don’t live around other homes, so I can’t imagine we will be getting trick or treaters.  And I suppose we could take O to a neighborhood around us, but it would really be an exercise in parents getting candy for themselves.  O doesn’t “get” Halloween yet, nor does he eat candy.  The idea of trapsing through the chilly evening, going up to the front doors of strange homes with him, saying “trick or treat!” for him, as he doesn’t talk yet, strikes me as odd.  It would be entirely for us.  So then why do it? And more specifically, why fret over a costume for him?

In my childhood household, Halloween was always a big holiday.  My mother was amazingly creative and untiring.  Making handmade costumes for all four of her children. My mom would go ALL OUT! We had a costume contest parade in our town and every year someone in our family would win, if not everyone! There were no store bought costumes for us. I remember choosing what we would like to be long in advance.  I remember my Mother sewing til the wee hours of the night getting everything just right.  One year I was a southern belle right out of Gone With The Wind with a full on hoop skirt dress!  I recall one of my brothers being a sheik one year and he actually pulled a huge stuffed camel after himself.  My Mother’s skill and creativity were truly amazing.

Somewhere the Halloween gene passed over me.  Even though I was lucky enough to wear the awesome costumes my mom made me, I’ve never been a huge fan of Halloween.  I mean, it’s not like it’s Christmas for G sake! I know,  there are people who go all out! They decorate their homes , work on costumes for months and go to local haunted houses.  Ugh.  Not this chick.  But now with O, do I have to get “into” it? Ok, maybe not THIS year, but certainly in the years to come?  The thing is, I already know I’m going to be horrible at it.  I will want him to pick the easy costume.  Something that will take the least amount of effort from me.  It’s awful! Even so, being raised on homemade costumes makes it very hard to take the easy road.

I know I could just go to the Halloween superstore and get something off the rack, but it seems so cheesy to me.  I remember as a kid feeling sorry for the kids who wore the store bought costumes.  How could I possibly put O in one?  And yet, how will I fair in making his dream of being a two headed dragon come true? I’ll be like, “Why don’t you be a hobo?”

It really is odd, because I am really a holiday person.  Hell, I shop for Christmas all year long.  I can’t wait to decorate right after Thanksgiving and I start listening to Christmas music in October (ooh, it’s coming up!) …don’t judge me.    It’s just the scary horror stuff just doesn’t do it for me.  The only thing I really like about Halloween is the abundance of candy, preferably Twix bars and anything Reese’s.  I suppose when O is actually is old enough to get excited about it and actually participate, my feelings may change.  I hope so.  I don’t want to be the lame Mom who couldn’t care less.  But this year, before he really knows….if I’m brutally honest, I could not care less and I kind of want to take the easy road.    I would love suggestions, cause I’m fresh out of ideas. Even Pinterest couldn’t help me.  Everything I saw on there looked too hard to do.  See, I’m pathetic.  Big Halloween Mommy fail.  Pass the candy bowl.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Xo

Project Sibling

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The Universe has conspired to make me sit down and write.  It is O’s nap time.  The hinges I bought off of Amazon for the bathroom cabinets don’t fit properly….so there will be no replacing them instead of writing.  I was going to start to paint the walls of the master bath, but I now have to clean and paint the baseboard heating covers and don’t have the right high heat paint to tackle the task.  I can’t  just leave my sleeping angel in the house while I run to Lowes….so I’ll have to go later. Perfect window of time to write.  The fact is that I am faced with a blog that is due tomorrow, but I’d rather eat potato chips.  Or bacon cheese flavored popcorn.  Any yummy tasty savory item from the Trader Joes snack aisle will do.  I want to mindlessly crunch away like a teenager.  I find it a satisfying way to avoid the task at hand.  Maybe one more handful before I decide whether to spill or zip it.

Alas, I am writing the piece.  After two bowls of crunchy goodness (boy, that’s an oxymoron), I am hitting the keys.  I am tentative about sharing this week’s tidbit.  Part of me feels like if I share it that I am somehow accountable if things don’t work out.  But a bigger part of me knows that there are women just like me who are contemplating  the same thing.  Ok, ok, enough with the lead in…I’m talking about having another baby.  Everyone has there own opinion on the subject.  A lot of women my age are done after having one.  Why push it, right? I see their point.

It takes me back to when I was 39 weeks pregnant with O and I had an exam with an older male doctor I had never been seen by before.  This practice in Florida was odd.  You could request a specific Doctor for appointments, but when you actually went into labor, you got whoever was on call.  So they urged you to familiarize yourself with as many physicians in the practice as possible.  And there were a lot.  Oye! I digress.  Anyway, on this particular day I opted to see Dr. Collins a.k.a. Crabby Pants.  I remember him telling me while discussing the labor,”Well, at your age, you don’t want to mess this up….I mean, it’s one and done for you.”  I remember feeling like I was slapped in the face.  I told another physician what he had said and she just shook her head.  Tossed it up to him being ready to retire.  But it does make you think.  At least he made me think.

Well, after a bit of a touch and go medical issue, my doctor up here in New England told me there is no reason we shouldn’t try.  I’m fit and I’ve got the blood pressure of a teenager, hence the teenager snack attacks.  By all snack accounts I should be over weight, but as my luck would have it, I’m as slim as I was when I was a vegetarian and really watched everything I ate.  (Completely unfair, I know).  So according to my lovely Dr., we have the all clear to jump to it.  I would prefer to say like rabbits…but apparently it’s more of an every other day thing.  You don’t want to exhaust the sperm.  Who knew? I assumed the more sex the better.  There will be no hormones or fertility drugs involved.  It’s Au Naturale for us.

So, here’s to trying.  Really trying.  And if it doesn’t happen, then Frieda, my friend and psychic, was right.  It won’t be meant to be.  And in the mean time, me and my young husband can have a lot of fun.  Either way it will all turn out the way it is supposed to.  I have been so blessed already, it seems greedy of me to want another.  If you asked me a year ago if I would want another, my answer would not have been  the same.  I have evolved into a really good mom. I’m so happy to be right where I am.  So happy to share raising or child with my husband.  It’s more happiness than I ever knew was possible.   So I am making a promise to myself right here and now, in front of all of you.  I will not be upset if we don’t get pregnant.  I won’t let it shade the abundant sunshine we live in.  I truly believe in things happening the way they are supposed to.  My entire life is a testament to just that.  So we will give it a go.  Here’s to Project Sibling! Lol!

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight.  I know what I’ll be doing.  And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Xo

 

Sick Baby Silly Mommy

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This week there has been no jam making or furniture staining.  No re-upholstering, no sanding woodwork, no projects period.  Everything is in a holding pattern. Little O is sick.  He has a high fever.   Red throat. Sick look in his eyes.  Yes, my little bub is sick.

It is really the first time he’s been sick.  He had a cold once at around 5 months old and he has been teething since before his first tooth at 4 months….but he’s never really been this sick. You know, for days.  I don’t like it.  What makes it even worse is that he can’t tell me what feels bad.  At 15 months old he is just stuck feeling horrible, wondering why.  It’s our job to guess and assess.  Not easy, is it parents? It’s just the worst.

I say “it’s the worst,” but in truth, we have had it quite easy and have been very blessed.  We have a healthy little boy who happens to be sick right now.  But it makes me think about the parents who have children who are REALLY sick.  Who were born with an illness. Who spend days at a time, even months, in a hospital.  I can’t imagine the level of worry those parents must endure.  It is unfathomable to me.  I suppose as a parent you just do what you have to do to get through it.  But talk about courage.  The courage to face every day and create a world of beautiful possibilities for your child in the face of such uncertainty…..these parents are truly heroic.  I pray I will never really know what that is like.

I realize that I have thought of O’s  good health as a given.  I have taken it for granted so easily.  How awful of me.  How audacious.  I think about how tough the week has been with a fussy needy sick child….and he isn’t even THAT sick.  How dare I! Talk about loss of perspective.  I need to thank my lucky stars because TODAY I have a sick little boy….but tomorrow or the next day he will be better.  And for TODAY,  my husband and I and our families are healthy.  My cousin calls it a “grace period.” It’s a window of time where everyone is doing ok.  Later? Who knows? Let’s be grateful for the good stuff, NOW.

So I will follow the Doctor’s orders.  I’ll continue to push the fluids on my little guy.  He just won’t eat yet.   And I’ll coddle and cuddle him and control his temperature with a piggyback of Baby Motrin and Infant Tylenol.  I’ll read to him and let him be fussy.  And soon he will be back to his joyful energetic self and I’ll be writing about some new struggle.  But I will not take his good health and our great fortune for granted again.  If you happen to be a parent with a child who has a challenging sickness, know that there is someone you have never met who is thinking of you and praying for your child.  In fact, I’d venture to say you have a whole army of people doing just that.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is messing it up! Thanks for reading! Xo

Hands In The Dirt Head In The Clouds

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What is it about putting your hands in the soil that is so therapeutic? The smell of the soil.  The tugging of the weeds.  It is mesmerizing to me, much to my surprise.  I find myself out in the gardens of our new home, several times a day.  It seems the weeding is never done.  There is always mulch to spread and new perennials popping up. I’ve even started composting!  The grounds are like a big mystery to me.  An exciting gratifying mystery.

When we bought this house, I fell in love with the gardens.  But I was also terrified of them.  Up till now, I pretty much killed everything I ever tried to grow.  I have hope for these gardens, though,  because they were planted by someone else.  Someone who had more than a clue about what they were doing.  We had glorious mature perennials popping up through out the spring and summer….and I’m already seeing things coming up for autumn.  It’s wonderful.  My hope is that I don’t wreck it all.  I am committed to at least trying to keep it beautiful.

Anyway, I digress.  I was saying it was therapeutic.  At least for me it is. I am fully aware it is a form of escape for me.  More like a form of meditation.  I take all my stress and leave it for later.   I don’t know if I would go as far to say it absolves my stress…but I certainly don’t feel stressed when I’m in the garden.  That’s probably why I go out to work in it so often! I engulf myself in performing a specific simple task. And I feel totally calm.  Very Buddha, if you will.  🙂

Let me be clear.  I don’t have stress because I’m a Mother.  I have stress because I’m a person.  O does not give me stress.  Taking care of him everyday does not give me stress.  It’s exactly where I want to be.  It brings me intense joy.  My stress is about life stuff.  I have a darling mother who’s dark dark depression and inability to “live” her life brings sadness to me everyday.  I have two wonderful parents who’s  marriage is so broken but neither have a clue how to fix it.  It weighs on me. Senseless gun violence, hate crimes, bigotry, health issues…they can stress you out.  And Donald Trump.  He’s a huge source of my stress these days.  Will I have to move to a different country if he is (God Forbid) elected president?  But I have to tell you, when I am in the garden…I don’t think about any of that.

I take O out with me most days for a bit of sunshine and exploration.  He loves it! He is intrigued by the flowers and plants.  And rocks! What is it with little boys and rocks? I let him wander within my eye’s peripheral.  He is learning to separate and find distance from me with the safety net of seeing me across the yard.  When he starts to get a little too far, I call him back and he toddles closer.  It’s pretty awesome.  It is exactly as I had imagined it in my mind’s eye….only better.  It is our little Nirvana.

Maybe it isn’t for everyone.  I would have never imagined it was for me.  I sooo didn’t see this coming.  My idea of escape used to be a trip to TJ Maxx for a little bargain retail therapy.    Maybe I got into this because it absolutely HAS to be done and calling a gardener isn’t on the table right now…?? I don’t know.  All I know is that I am loving it.  Getting dirty and all.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up.  Xo