Out Sick

I’m writing this week’s post from my bed. I’m SICK. All Caps! My amazing husband is holding the fort down with our little O, who is also sick. Occupational hazard of a SAHM..we tend to get sick when our little ones are. This virus has knocked me down for the count, though. Yes, I went to the Dr….or should I say “Urgent Care,” where I was seen by a P.A. Who told me essentially, I wasn’t sick enough yet to prescribe anything for me. That I should ride it out and see if my body could fight it on its own. That’s fair enough, but with my history of upper respitory infections, I don’t share that hope. So, I didn’t actually go to my Dr. per say. Silly me wasted my time seeing a physician’s assistant with a point to make, who didn’t believe I know my body well enough to know when I’m faced with more than a chest cold. Two days later I find myself wheezing, coughing up my lungs and praying this bout doesn’t turn into pneumonia. I’m prone to pneumonia. I told her that. Good times.

Several nights ago O had such a high fever we wound up at the emergency room. It was scary high. After calling the Ped on call (because it was a weekend AND a holiday) we were directed to go straight to the ER. So, of course, a P.A. sees him. O has a bit of “white coat syndrome,” after remembering the shots he got on a recent visit. He freaks out whenever he starts getting prodded and poked. Which at this hospital seemed to happen repeatedly. First by triage, then by the first P.A. By the time the second P.A. checked his ears he had been crying for over 30 minutes. She thought the ears looked a little red, so she said he would be treated for an ear infection. But he had no other signs of an ear infection beyond the fever. No tugging on his ear, no sensitivity when I touched them….I wasn’t convinced. I asked her if his ears could be red because he had been so upset. Well, yes, she said. But they prescribed a 10 day antibiotic for him, regardless. 10 days of antibiotics seemed a bit heavy for a baby who may not have actually had an ear infection. So, if we gave him the antibiotic and he didn’t have an ear infection, he would be ingesting medicine he really didn’t need, lessening the effectiveness of it when he really DID need it. Follow my logic? Considering the cough he has now, it was not an ear infection, but a chest cold….that he seems to be fighting better than mommy. I am confidemt he’ll recover because he finally saw his pediatrician, who we know and love. It made me wonder what the point of going to the ER was? It mostly just upset the baby…and they were basically grasping at straws to decipher what was ailing O. I suppose it made Mommy and Daddy feel like we were being proactive? It alleviated the feeling of helplessness that takes you over when you are a parent and your child is burning up with fever.

I know, I know, antibiotics are the essential devil. We over use them. And that overuse is causing certain virus’ to become unpenetratable. But sometimes you just know when you need them. And sometimes they don’t make sense. What ever happened to the patient being equally responsible for their diagnosis? I guess this doctor patient trust thing is a two way street. I think I’m done with ER’s and Urgent Care places for awhile. I’m on a rant, cause I’m mad that I am sick. I’m upset that Oliver is sick. I’m annoyed at the lack of quality urgent healthcare there is in our area even with great health insurance. It’s defeating. And depressing.

I feel like the healthcare situation is only going to get worse before it gets better in this country. Too many people have made too much money gouging the American people with their high premiums and out of sight drug expenses. Those people aren’t going to let the healthcare cash cow go too easily. Doctors are complaining about all the new paperwork getting in the way of patient care. (Not sure why you can’t do both?). But the big question is, what does that mean for all of us? Damned if I know. I’m just an achy delirious Mom today who just needs to feel better. Pronto.

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

What To Tell Our Children About The World

With recent events in Paris, Beirut and Africa, not to mention bombs taking down planes and ISIS filling the headlines, it is a fact that the world has become a scary place. That’s putting it mildly. It made me think about what we will tell O about the world we brought him into. Will we shield him? Will we tell him the truth, as tough as it may be? What we tell him and how we tell him things will help shape who he becomes.

I think honesty is the best policy. But what about omitting information to protect your child? Is that lying? I certainly don’t want him growing up being ignorant of the world and its ways. But I also don’t want to scare him. The idea of suicide bombers is hard to swallow for an adult, let alone a child. So what do we do? I guess it’s a pretty personal decision for parents. My husband is in favor of honesty all the way….I like to say “gentle honesty.”

I know some people who didn’t tell their children about 9/11. Or about the Sandy Hook School shootings. How you keep something like either of those things from your kid is beyond me. I mean logistically. The stories were everywhere. Not just TV. You’d have to live under a rock not to notice the outpouring of emotion. And then what happens when the kids whose parents did have a conversation with them, start explaining it to other children? Your child gets the version as understood by little Johnny from down the street.

I guess like everything, we should approach it with thought and balance. I suppose it isn’t necessary to have a conversation with O about such things until he reaches school age. Or before, if he starts inquiring for himself. And I suppose we should gently pour the truth out in terms and in quantities appropriate for his age. But there are certainly things I want him to be afraid of…like strange men in vans who have puppies and lollipops. Damn straight. Stranger Danger is for real and a whole other post…but something to certainly discuss way before school age.

Ugh! The world can be a horrible place with such evil lurking in it. How do we make him aware of it without making him completely fearful or worse, completely cynical. The world is filled with such disenchantment. Such wild disenchantment. I believe that is a big part of where much evil is born. So how do we keep his innocence and naïveté while educating him about the world? Seems an impossible task. Unless the key is to also fill him with hope. To teach him respect and trust. To show him the magic that exists in our every day. To let him know that even though bad things can happen, miracles happen, as well. To fill him with kindness, faith and possibilities, while we balance it all out with doses of some tough realities.

This parenting thing is not for the faint of heart. I suppose if we let ourselves become consumed with the terrors that exist we would never procreate. And the evil that exists would win. I certainly don’t want that kind of world for O. It is with a heavy heart for this world that I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving. May you be especially thankful for the loved ones you call Family and may your heart continue to hold hope in it.

Until next time, this emotional mommy is going to have a good cry and say some extra prayers. And remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up. Thank you so much for reading. Xo

Halloween 1 Mommy 0

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

At The End Of The Rainbow

As I sit here sipping my morning coffee I am filled with a feeling of contentment and gratitude. It’s quiet moments like this in our home that allow me to reflect on the blessings bestowed upon us. Yeah, I am also making a grocery list in my head and thinking about how I will accomplish one of my DIY home projects today….but for the most part, I’m just acknowledging how grateful I am.

You see, I am a type A personality, if you couldn’t tell already. I have this hyper gene in my makeup that makes me think I can do everything…all at once. It is hard for me to relax and do nothing. (It seems like such a waste!). But I am reminded, it seems by everyone, that it is, indeed, important to sometimes do just that. Nothing. At least to slow down.

I am going to share something that will no doubt make my haters hate me even more. And that’s fine with me. I have the best husband/partner in the Universe. To say, “in the world” doesn’t seem enough. He is constantly reminding me to take in the simple things. The little moments that I would have most likely trampled over on my way to Home Depot. The instances that turn into moments that create memories that define our lives. For instance, one night this summer he set a blanket out on the lawn so we could lay on it and watch the shooting stars. We saw like 10! The other night, he actually set an alarm (because we struggle to stay up past 9pm) so we could go outside and watch the super lunar eclipse. I would have slept right through it. It was spectacular.

Several weeks ago he showed me something that I seem to keep revisiting because it was THAT awesome. Evenings this summer we would take O to the playground that is near our house. He adores it. On this particular night we were there for only about 10 minutes and the sky started to spit raindrops. We went for cover under the pirate ship, as we were sure it was only a quick sun shower. Then it started to really pour. Even the plastic rendition of the Black Pearl couldn’t keep us dry. We decided to make a run for the car and head home. As we turned towards to parking lot we saw a huge rainbow. It took us by surprise. We scurried over to the car and Ian said, “Let’s find the end of the rainbow!” I was like, “Seriously?” “We’re gonna get soaked.” He looked at me with THAT look and said, “We’re already soaked.”

So off we ran into the baseball field towards the rainbow’s end. With our child in tow, like children ourselves. O loved getting wet. He squealed with absolute delight. We stopped somewhere in right field and realized the end of the rainbow was Us. We were standing right where it ended. We were our own pot of gold! If that’s not a God-wink, I don’t know what is. The point is, I would have gotten into the car and drove home, never seeing the amazing metaphor that now describes our life to me. It is my great fortune to be blessed with a partner who wants to lay under the stars and run in the rain. Now, of course there are other facets to my dear husband. He isn’t romping through the daffodils everyday and while he is an optimist, he has never worn a pair of rose colored glasses. But time and time again he shows me what is truly important.

There is a scene in the classic film, Its A Wonderful Life, where George Bailey is sitting outside his Mother’s house while his brother’s engagement party is going on. Ma Bailey comes out and tells him Mary Hatch is home from college and he should call on her. She says of Mary, “She’s the kind of girl who’ll help you find the answers, George.” I always loved that scene. Who knew the answers involved such simple wonderful things? Like the laugh of our child, starry nights and a partner who shows me what’s at the end of the rainbow.

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

Sick Baby Silly Mommy

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

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

A few weeks ago I did another thing I always said I would NEVER do as a mom. I have my reasons, as I’m sure all women do. The fact that the summer heat was breathing down my neck played a huge part in the decision. Okay okay enough with the lead up….just spit it out already! I cut my long hair. I now sport a shoulder length bob. Half way to soccer mom.

Why would I go and do such a thing? Well….let’s be fair. I wasn’t exactly “doing” my long hair on a regular basis. In fact, the number of times I “styled” it since O was born is a very low digit number. And when I actually did (which took forever) I would wind up putting it in a mommy bun or pony tail anyway. Talk about a waste of time. I just don’t have an hour or more to waste a day.

Another factor is, as I said, the summer heat. I needed that mane off my neck! Too much hair. Too much making me HOT! I started to get angry at my hair. That’s not a good place to be. And yes, I could have continually thrown it up in the Mommy bun…but just drying it was taking too much time. And to be the woman with the wet hair in the Mommy bun seemed bleaker to me than a mommy bob. The bob also seems relatively fashionable these days as I look at celebrities on the magazine covers while I wait in line at Target. Right? So I did it!

My sister in law’s niece, Abby, is a hairdresser and a complete hair genius. This girl is talented. She cut my long hair before and is awesome. I was nervous, of course, as my hair has been a crutch I’ve been holding onto. But she gave me the greatest cut and I feel a million times lighter. I feel free from the “hair.” Does anyone know what I’m talking about?

What did I think? That holding onto my long hair was going to make me feel younger? Silly Mommy. I can’t even remember what I thought the payoff was for “the hair.” Truth be told, I feel better now without the weight of the mane on my head. I feel pretty and spunky. I love it. This makes me wonder….what other myths are out there for me to dispel? What other Mom things have I been avoiding for ridiculous reasons? The reality is, that no one cares if I cut my hair….except me. So why not do what makes sense for ME? I don’t think, however, I’ll ever venture into truly short short hair as I don’t think it would suit my face at all. But again, never say never.

I think I was able to give up this crutch because everyday as a Mom I am learning more and more about what is truly vital in this a crazy life we live. Yes, how you present yourself to the world is important. It’s just not ALL Important. So if I go out without make up or my hair quaffed…who cares? Nobody but me. So when I do it, I do it for me. It’s about time, huh?

Here’s to you! Hell, here’s to US! And thanks for reading. Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every greasy kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is messing it up. Xo

Hands In The Dirt Head In The Clouds

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

Bumpy Times Ahead

I watch O on the baby video monitor. It’s past 7:30am, but on cloudy rainy days he sleeps a little longer. He is stirring, but taking his time to wake up. I’m enjoying my coffee. In peace. Listening to a bird chirp outside the front window. I am contemplating the day. What do I introduce to him today? Will he nap long? Will it be a difficult day like yesterday? He is getting his back molars in, so the teething and drool situation is out of control and kind of throwing me. He is all out of sorts. Or is it just him getting older? Becoming coming more of a true toddler? Yikes. I’m not ready for that.

He is willful. I’ve known this about him since before his birth. I could tell in my tummy. And how true it turned out to be. And it seems that so far, he is wicked smart. What a combination. I am glad he is willful. It will be a good trait later on. I want him to be a strong individual. It’s just that now….it’s going to pose some challenges for us. Add Mommy’s flair for the dramatic and Daddy’s hot temper…..and I foresee bumpy times ahead! But then, there is always wine to soothe the day’s events, right? Is there enough wine? (Is there EVER enough wine?).

Yesterday O was playing with this grabber thing we have in the kitchen. He loves it. I call him King Triton when he carries it around. He was getting frustrated because he was trying to move it in a space that was too small to move it freely in. He started to whine and fuss. Then growl and grunt. I interjected with a “Calm down, O.” He looked at me, threw the grabber down and screamed a scream I had not ever heard from him. A primal scream followed by tears of frustration and more screaming. He had gone from 0-60 in a matter of seconds. He was officially melting down. Toddler style. I was a bit stunned, however foolish that sounds. He hasn’t been like this. He’s been pretty easy (for a baby.). Needless to say, nap time followed. Yes, his being tired and teething was a factor in this outburst, but this was a force within him I had yet to experience.

He is young for this, isn’t he? Don’t they say “Terrible TWOS?” He is just 14 months old! Is this yet another stage he will hit early? Oye. So what do we do? React? Not react? I can’t see how yelling at him would help. But coddling him after undesirable behavior doesn’t seem good either. Up till now, we have tried to redirect his attention when he starts going into behavior we aren’t crazy about. It used to work like a charm. Now, not so much.

I truly thank God that I am an older Mom as I begin to navigate this part of raising our child. I have WAY more patience than I ever would have had in my younger days. I understand that I don’t have all the answers. However, many of the answers are somewhere etched in my mind after watching the do’s and don’ts of the child rearing of my nieces and nephews. I have watched my sister-in-law, Sarah, raise three children with the consistency and patience of a saint. I often refer to my memories of watching her parent when I look for answers. When she said “If you don’t stop that behavior, we are leaving.” She meant it. If the behavior persisted, they were gone. I get it. You can’t say anything thing you aren’t prepared to make good on. I recall, “Please and Thank You are the magic words.” The tune she used to sing it to is stuck in my head, all ready to use on O. I remember her making her children look her in the eye when she was reprimanding them. It sticks more. I found myself doing it yesterday when O kept trying to take an outlet cover off after dinner. Well, today my sister-in-law has remarkable teenagers who are smart, funny, respectful and kind. She is my role model for parenting. There are more, for sure. But I am grateful I have had a lot of time to watch others, especially her.

So what to do? I find myself taking deep breathes. I try to understand the child. I try not to let his frustration become mine. I know we need to teach him what calm is despite his genetics….no easy task. But essential. I recall O’s pediatrician telling me, “He is your whole world. You just don’t want him know that.” How true, how true. Imagine adding narcissist to the list? Not on my watch! So yes, bumpy times ahead. But good times, as well, I have no doubt.

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

That Mom

Before I had a child, I vowed to keep my offspring neat, clean and well groomed. No disheveled children. No dried food on their face. No dirt on their knees. No poop stains on the back of their pants. No sweaty, un-combed hair….you get the picture. We’ve all seen these children. I have always said, I will never be “that mom” who goes anywhere with her child in such a state. Well, as I say more often than not these days, NEVER SAY NEVER. You know, when my husband read this post, he said he thought I came across uptight and judge-y…..and well, let’s call a spade a spade…I have been.

I usually pride myself on having O look , at the very least, clean. I am definitely one for having him look adorable whenever I am out with him. You know, cute outfit, hair combed to the side, clean shoes and socks, etc. But today, after dinner, my husband and I wanted to take O to the playground. It was about an hour or so before O’s bedtime. He had his dinner. He had a poop. My husband changed him and told me that O had a little diaper leak, but that it wasn’t that much, so he kept him in the same outfit. Well, ok…I’m not gonna question the man who offers to change a diaper. The baby was fast approaching the “tired wall” and it was time to expend some serious energy. To tire the poor kid out, basically. Lets just overlook the little poop stain.

I was putting O in the car, and in the light of day, I realized his face was covered in dried sweet potato. It was also all down the front of his romper. Nice. Oh whatever…a little sweet potato never hurt anyone. His knees, now in full view, were filthy. Oye. Ok….they would get dirty at the playground anyway, right? I’m beginning to see this messy thing is a slippery slope.

About half way through our playground outing, I realized my child looked like a bonafide ragamuffin. Disheveled would be a polite term. I thought to myself, “I am THAT Mom.” But in that same instance, I knew it didn’t matter one bit. This delicious wonderful child was ours. Under all that dried sweet potato and dirt was the most perfect thing we had ever done. I guess it’s a good lesson in not judging what you see all the time. “That Mom” most likely, like me, was frazzled….in a rush….and thought to herself, “I’m just running out for a sec! What does it matter?” Well, it doesn’t. Not one bit.

Is your child happy? Is he exploring? Is she getting her hands dirty, figuratively and literally? That’s what matters. I guess I see it differently now. I see the sweat and dirt on O as an indication of how active he was all day. His energy level is through the roof! I can only imagine that level rising as he gets older. And the harder he plays, the harder he sleeps. I’m not gonna mess around with that! The occasional stain on his shirt? The smudge on his face? Well, shit happens. But one thing I know is, it all comes out in the bath water. Literally.

This does not mean I throw all good intentions of keeping my child clean out the window. But there is a time and a place for all things…and there are limits to what you can do at times. I’m a good Mom. No, scratch that. I’m a really good Mom. But I am not super human. Often, I miss a spot on his sweet cheek after lunch. Occasionally, I keep him in a dribbled on shirt. And most times he likes to run his hands through the dirt in the yard. He’ll survive….and so will I. Happily and heartily. Growing and exploring and figuring it all out….together.

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

Rainbows And Reality

I did not set out to write a controversial blog. In fact, if more people thought like me, it wouldn’t be. 🙂 I am still trying to figure out why everyone doesn’t share all my thoughts and opinions. Lol. But, seriously, folks…..this week marked a historical time in our country’s evolution. Marriage equality for everyone! The straights, the gays, the others…everyone, free to marry their one true love. Pretty awesome, I think. Most of my circle of friends are progressive people. Lots of artists, educators and all around wonderful people. A majority of my friends are gay. Some of my nearest and dearest. For the most part, the internet was a rainbow of colors celebrating this step forward for equality. Because my circle of friends are mostly like thinkers, my Facebook feed was pretty positive stuff. On the other hand, the thing about social media is that you don’t just get the stuff you want to see…you get a lot of the stuff you wished you hadn’t. That is what happened this week.

A friend of mine, who I knew was a church going gal, posted some pretty negative stuff regarding same sex marriage. I’m saddened by this, because I don’t know that I can be friends with her after reading her opinions. Before social media let you post your opinions for the world to see, I didn’t know she had such disdainful feelings towards some of my dearest friends, dare I say family. How can I remain friends with her when I know now how she feels about the people that I love?

She went as far as to say that God “detests” homosexuality. Hmm. That’s pretty strong. Firstly, how does she know? I mean a vast majority of us speak to God…but has he ever actually spoken to her saying,” I detest the Gays!” I’m confused by this righteousness coming from a twice married woman. For the life of me, I just don’t see why anyone wants to deny another person equality? It seems so un-Christian. It’s like being on a diet and being outraged that the person next to you is eating a hamburger. It’s irrational. At least in my opinion.

What I know for sure is that I want my child to grow up in a world where no matter what his sexual orientation is, he will be treated fairly. No matter what the color of his skin is, he will be treated without prejudice. If he decides he feels more comfortable in women’s clothes or he wants to be called Olivia, I want society to treat him with dignity and respect. I know, I know….life isn’t fair. But the laws that govern our land should be. At the very least.

I keep discovering things about myself as I continue on this journey of being a mother, especially at my advanced maternal age. One, is that I am stronger than I ever knew I was. Another is, I have no tolerance for people’s ridiculous hate. Life is just too too short. And I don’t have time to have my nose in anyone else’s garden if I want to tend to my own precious one. Most importantly, my priority is my beautiful family. If anyone threatened my son’s right to equality, I would no doubt get all Mama Bear on them. It is with that same ferocity I feel I must sever this friendship. I don’t say this lightly. I mean her no malice and I wish her well in all that is to come for her and her family. Yes, everyone is entitled to their opinion. But you don’t get to be my friend when your moral compass is so drastically opposing to what I believe in my heart to be right. Perhaps it is a failing in my character that I can’t overlook such things. I don’t know. What is clear to me is that when there is intolerance and hate, everyone loses.

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. 🙂

From Gucci To Gerber

Tales, Insights & Observations from an Advanced Maternal Age New Mother

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