Discoveries

Whistler's Mommy-Blogger

(photo credit: Flickr)

I remember the thrill of the discovery, like I had unearthed a secret treasure.

Lonely and isolated as a new mom, I woke up each morning before the sun and with the cries of a hungry baby, followed by naps, laundry, more cries of a hungry baby, followed by more naps, more cries, bedtime. The next day was exactly the same, as was the day after that, and the day after that.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad! Motherhood was just…not what I imagined it to be. In boredom, I went online, clicking one website after another, when one day I read the words of a mother. I don’t remember them exactly, but her message spoke to my soul, the secret place inside of me that couldn’t admit outloud that I didn’t know what I was doing and that most days I wanted to escape, even if just for 15 minutes. This discovery, a mother–just like me, staying home with a baby all day–confessed in writing that being a mom was hard, wonderful, exhausting, boring, fulfilling, gratifying, and every other adjective I had also secretly thought only to myself.

It’s liberating to know you’re not alone, but it’s also enlightening to learn that your own knowledge of the world is not the only reality.

I have kept reading. For years, I’ve read about what other parents have dealt with, how they do what they do with each obstacle they face. I’ve read about triumphs and tragedies, daily quips and years long sagas. I have learned what they think of their vacuum cleaners and their congressmen and women. I read about parents who have such radically different parenting styles and beliefs than my own safe, sanitary bubble style parenting. I continue to read and learn.

Discovering women writers online has influenced who I am and the way I parent today. My world, which formerly consisted of only what I knew intimately and maybe of what I saw on TV or read in novels, is now wide open. Before blogging, I didn’t know anyone personally who homeschooled their children, or gave birth at home, filed for bankruptcy, was Mormon or Jewish, or was a single parent. I’ve found that it’s much easier to have an open mind about things I personally know nothing about, when you’ve read someone’s words and their story–and realized that their opinions and actions are shaped by their experiences just as my opinions and actions are shaped by my own experiences.

What I’ve read for these past six years has influenced how I feel about spanking, processed foods, vaccinations, potty training, education options, religion, cleaning products, and, oh, everything else that I might possibly have ever thought about. When I have parenting questions, the first place I look is online and the  parenting writers are usually whose opinions I search and trust the most. In the past, I’ve even written about concerns I’ve had about my own children’s development and have received words of wisdom from friends and strangers far and wide, giving me a virtual pat on the back or hug when I’ve needed it.

Now that I work from home, an option that is partially available to me because of my online interactions for all these years, I’ve taken a cue from other working mothers to learn how to “do” this working thing. From organization tips, to quick recipes, reasonable expectations of babysitters, to balancing (or not!) work and home life, this online space has helped me figure out how to get it all into 24 hours each day.

This is the person that I am today, influenced by more than just my own little bubble wrapped world: the working mom of two school-age children, wife, half-marathon runner, wrinkle cream junkie, recycling fanatic, organic milk buyer, occasional coupon clipper, obsessive email labeler, friend, open-minded, woman writer.

I’ve partnered with Story Bleed Magazine and P&G to celebrate the launch of mom.me. To celebrate their launch, mom.me is hosting a carnival of stories to discuss how technology and online communities of moms have shaped the way we parent.

You, too, can join this conversation with mom.me. Let’s talk about how this little (huge) online world we’ve made for ourselves on the Internet is creating us, changing us as parents. Join this carnival, join this conversation.

Crazy Stuff’s Been Happening Up in Here

Crazy Thing Numero Uno:

About two weeks ago, I was minding my own business walking over to my computer sitting on the dining room table when I suddenly felt a hot searing pain in my left foot. An insect flew up as I hobbled/ran away, screaming obscenities. My toes and the joint swelled and throbbed, but after a panicked call to Tate and quick search on Google I discovered that I’d been stung by a paper wasp. The severe pain and swelling was totally normal! Fantastic!

The wasp’s reign of terror ended when I found the largest fly swatter available to man, which was actually a broom with a dust pan attached to the bottom, and KILLED HIM DEAD with at least 10 whacks.

Here’s the crazy part. A few days later, I was minding my own business at a friend’s pool when suddenly I felt hot searing pain in my neck. My friend Kate came to my rescue and murdered the assailant…a WASP. I’d been stung in two places!

Retribution for killing Paulie the Wasp at my house? Seems an awful lot like a Wasp Mafia hit. After having only been stung twice in my lifetime, it’s a little suspicious that I was stung three times in less than a week.

Crazy Thing Numero Dos:

My running girls and I decided that we needed one more celebration commemorating our half marathon (what?), but this time we found it in our hearts to include our husbands. After all, they had solo parented for three months of Tuesday nights, Saturday mornings, and for our weekend away.

My friend Amanda’s husband Dan sat down next to me while we were eating dinner. We had met briefly a few times before, but I’d never actually had a conversation with him. While talking we discovered that we went to the same university, Southwest Missouri State, now known as Missouri State. Small world!

But then, he said, “What sorority were you in? You look kind of familiar…”

And this is where it got really crazy. Suddenly, memories flooded in and I realized that I actually KNEW Dan!

In one breath I said, “NO WAY You were a Sigma Chi and we sat next to each other in Chem 107 and I invited you to a dance and you said no because you had to go home that weekend to paint houses Amanda I know your husband from college and I asked him out and he turned me down!”

So if you didn’t catch that: I sat next to Dan in a class in college in the 90′s in MISSOURI and there I sat next to the same Dan fifteen years later in TENNESSEE, the husband of a very good friend of mine.

CRA.ZY.

Amanda insisted we take a picture to reenact the photo opp that didn’t happen back in 1995. Here we are and I’m holding cilantro. I don’t know why either.

Any Excuse to Celebrate

As I left to attend a celebration hosted by our running coaches in honor of our first half marathon last week, Tate pointed that we’d already celebrated-more than once.

“Isn’t this, like, the hundredth time you guys have celebrated?” he asked. It was a fair question.

My girls and I first celebrated by going out for Mexican after the race, then going out for dinner and drinks at a swanky restaurant later that night. A few days after the race, we got together again for another celebratory dinner and drinks. And now I was heading out to celebrate. Again.

What can I say? Thirteen point one miles seems like a great excuse to have more than one celebration.

Life is just more fun when you can recognize even the smallest victories. That’s why we celebrate the tiny things in our house.

It’s Friday and everyone’s alive! Let’s celebrate with s’mores and margaritas!
There’s sunshine and it’s 75 degrees! Let’s invite friends over for an impromptu bar-b-que!

And we celebrate the true milestones.

First day of summer vacation! That sounds like an excuse to get ice cream!
Carson brought home straight E’s on his report card! Let’s order pizza!

Ella had her very first dance recital last week and if that’s not a milestone, I don’t know what one is. She spent months learning her tap and ballet dance moves, set to the popular musical stylings of The Little Mermaid. On the day of the performance, I fixed her hair in a little bun and even let her wear a little blue eye shadow.

Her performance, well, it was wonderful of course. Eight little girls, ranging in age from three to five, each trying so hard to remember their steps, I’m sure you can imagine the talent. Ella concentrated so hard while dancing, her tongue sticking out with each step.

The ballerina after her stunning debut!

Obviously we had to celebrate the tiny dancer’s debut. Tate and Carson presented our ballerina with flowers after her stunning performance. She wanted a special treat on the way home and thought ice cream would be the perfect way to celebrate.

Carson vehemently agreed. “Mom,” he said, “it’s Ella’s first dance recital, we HAVE to get ice cream to celebrate!”

I certainly wasn’t going to argue with that logic.

::

Thanks so much to Hallmark for inviting me to be a part of their Life is a Special Occasion campaign this year. Life truly is a special occasion, each and every moment.

Sign up here for Hallmark’s e-newsletter to get special offers and discounts!

 

What’s a birthday without a mention on mommy’s blog?!

Five years ago on this very day, a vocal, sassy, tiny girl sprung forth from my belly to make our family complete.

IMG_0029_1

Somehow she went from being born just moments ago to suddenly being five. I have a good chunk of her life documented here on the ol’ blog-er-oo, but it doesn’t seem like five years have passed. “They” weren’t lying about time flying.

kids, beach, hanging around the house 116
Everyday she cracks me up with her goofy faces and her sense of humor. She is cuddly and kind-hearted, feisty, competitive, bossy, and still vocal, sassy, and tiny.

St. Pat's

practice 3-30-2

For her birthday today, I’ve played a very odd imaginative play scenario with dinosaurs, a Moxie girl, Spiderman (as the dad-OBVIOUSLY), and some construction trucks. She chose two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and goldfish crackers for lunch and for dinner she’d like to go out for sushi and ice cream. We had her birthday party on Saturday where she and her friends painted butterflies and ate A LOT of sugar. It was perfect.

untitled (27 of 28)

In the fall, she’ll be a Kindergartener, which is like, WHOA. We had Kindergarten roundup last week. Please allow me a moment of bragging, but she scored a 92 on whatever test it was that they gave her. So I should add “smart” to the list of her traits above. I just can’t imagine that come August, I’ll be sending her to big school everyday, even though I’m a seasoned pro at sending kids off to Kindergarten and surviving.

Five years old is OLD for a baby. She’s still a baby, right? My baby, anyway.

Grade: Preschool

Favorite thing about school: “I have no idea.”

Favorite TV show: SpongeBob

Favorite food: Peanut Butter and jelly sandwiches

Favorite toy: horses

Best thing about being five: I’m getting bigger

Favorite book: SpongeBob

Favorite color: Pink

Favorite thing to do: play horses

Favorite song: God’s Not Dead

Favorite sport: soccer

What she wants to be when she grows up:  A mommy

Happy 5th birthday, sweet girl.

(Her party was hosted by a local company, Smock, Paper, Scissors. They did an AWESOME job. Read all about the party right here!

I won! And by “won,” I mean I finished and didn’t come in last!

I finished my first half marathon according to my Garmin in 2:22. The official time was 2:24, but that time includes all the zigzagging I had to do around 30,000 other runners. By the time I crossed the finish line, I’d run almost 13.6 miles. So 2:22 it is!

The race was…hard. It was way harder than I expected it to be. Having trained and run so many miles (236.4 miles, but who’s counting?), I ASSumed that the race would be a breeze, it would be that “victory lap” that so many people call their races. WELL. I hadn’t planned for it to be so HOT, HILLY, and SUNNY. I mean, I love sunshine, but I don’t love sunshine when it’s beating down on you while running 13.1 miles, making me feel like a turkey roasting in the oven on Thanksgiving morning. And the hills, geez louise, the hills. Knoxville is super hilly, but there are downhill rewards. Nashville was one uphill after another with very few downhills. My quads are still recovering.

But despite HOT, HILLY, and SUNNY it was the best thing I’ve ever done. (Except for having Carson and Ella, obviously.) I did have to walk a lot between miles 11 and 13, but I’m still really, really proud of myself. The second it was over, I was already thinking about the next time, even though I could barely walk and my left toes were covered in blisters thanks to my wet socks.

I did cry when I crossed the finish line, but when I crossed, none of my girls were with me. I cried for having finished and I cried for crossing the finish line without them, but instead with a bunch of stinky, sweaty random people that I didn’t know.

Seriously, are we not cute? You’d cried, too, if you didn’t get to cross the finish line with them.

We followed the race with champagne, chips, salsa, margaritas, guacamole, tacos, shopping, ice, beer, wine, and pizza. And we made plans for our next race together.

Melodrama on the way to the race

Every time I think about what it will feel like to cross the finish line on Saturday, I cry. These past three months, training for my first half marathon with the best friends and inspiring, no nonsense coaches a girl could asked for, have been some of the very best days of my entire life. I’m not even kidding or exaggerating.

I’ve tried to write before how much this whole running thing means to me, but I don’t have the words. Saying I’m proud of myself doesn’t really convey what I mean. Saying that I’ve worked hard doesn’t come close to describing what “work” and “hard” mean. Aside from the two moments that I gave birth, there is nothing that comes close to the feeling of accomplishment that I feel for having come this far.

In less than 24 hours it will all be over and I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. I’m going to miss getting up at 6 am on a Saturday morning to run with my girls. I’m going to miss our long talks and the laughing and the breakfast afterwards.

I guess I better start planning for my next race.

::

I wrote some running tips for people who want to get started running over at my Babble blog, Southern By Proxy. Totally unrelated, I also wrote about how much I hate the school car line. Feel free to commiserate. It’s therapeutic.

All Grown Up

An artist at work.

Ella is adamant about two things. One, she really dislikes mornings, or being woken up in general. And two, when she grows up she wants to be a mommy.

“I want to be a mommy, like you,” she tells me, sentimental and teary eyed as if being a mom is the most beautiful thing in the world. (It is, by the way.) (Usually.)

Surely she’s not just saying this out of some human biological urge, but because she sees how awesome I’m doing as a mom and wants to emulate me, right? RIGHT?!

I always knew that I wanted to be a mom, too. So many of my childhood memories center around playing “house,” where I lived with my husband (Mark, then Robert) and our endless stream of babies (Melissa, Tracy, Lisa…). Even as I grew older and discovered that there was so much that I could do in life, I still wanted to be a mom, but I also wanted to go to college and study for a career.

Ella is painting her Hallmark Recordable Storybook Canvas.

While she is unwavering in her decision to be a mommy, she told me awhile ago that she was going to be a painter someday and the other day that she wants to be a “computer worker” when she “gets big.” The day after that when I asked her about being a computer worker, she sighed and said, “No Mommy, I’m going to be a ‘money lady.’”

Well, DUH, obviously. I don’t know what it means to be a computer worker or a money lady, but I’ll do whatever I can to help her. Maybe there’s a summer camp I could send her to for future money ladies?

Carson is adamant about A LOT of things. He loves cinnamon apples, he shouldn’t have to share the Wii with Ella, thunder and lightning are some of the worst things ever, and when he grows up, he’s going to drive monster trucks.

Hallmark's Kids Encouragement Greeting Card to Celebrate Another Great Report Card

We recently celebrated his fifth straight all E’s report card from Kindergarten. Learning comes easily for him and I think that he can be anything he wants to be when he grows up. Of course, I am at least 75% certain that he’ll become a engineer like Tate-I swear I can see those analytical wheels spinning in his little brain when he thinks. But like Ella, I will help him to grow up to be whatever he wants to be, whether it’s a monster truck driver, engineer, or even a rodeo clown, though I’m keeping my fingers crossed that being rodeo clown doesn’t turn out to be his life’s passion.

I love their imaginations and certainty about their futures. While they’re little they can dream as big as they want to dream without life’s responsibilities making their career choices for them. It’s fun to imagine who they’ll turn out to be, but for now I just want to give them every opportunity to find out who they want to be.

::
I’m honored to be working with Hallmark this year for their Life is a Special Occasion campaign. Hallmark provided me with the Recordable Artwork and Kid’s Encouragement Greeting Cards and as always all opinions are my own. Ella was thrilled that I finally let her paint, it’s something I usually fear(!!), and Carson loved getting real mail!!

Sign up here for Hallmark’s e-newsletter to get special offers and discounts!