The importance of being present

Once again, it's been entirely too long since my last post, and I will make no excuses. I just haven't taken the time to write "personally" lately. I've written professionally and have enjoyed it immensely, yet I've abandoned my weekly blog and I apologize for that. 

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During my unintentional blogging hiatus, God has found some little and some larger ways to open my eyes a little wider to the world within and beyond my four walls. Too often, I let my mind wander too far ahead and before I know it I'm envisioning next week and next month and even next year instead of just being present today. I can't tell you how many nights I've closed my eyes only to listen to my head play out every possible best case and worst case scenario for every person in my family and often my friends.

I realized a long time ago that I have a difficult time just letting the present unfold, and while taking control can be a great thing, it can also lead to never truly feeling a sense of peace or accomplishment, or even appreciation of all you have. In the past month, I've been reminded of how delicate life is and just how important it is to stand still sometimes and let your mind rest - to truly be present. It took some beautiful people and soul-wrenching moments to show me that... 

A very dear friend of mine and a mother like no other has been a huge reminder to me of what living in the present looks like, and her pint-size daughter has undoubtedly demonstrated courage and resilience personified. Before this little angel was born, she was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect and surgery was determined to be a definite future necessity. 

Fast forward to a few months after her birth and the day of her actual surgery; I've never felt so helpless and so terrified for a friend as I did that morning. There was nothing I could do but to pray and I did as much of that as possible. I kept picturing myself in my friend's place, and feeling her anxiety and worst fears as a mother. Yet, she remained so steadfast and hopeful and amazingly strong. Inside, I have no doubt her own heart was deeply aching and her spirit shaken, but to the naked eye she was unbelievably determined to see her daughter come out of that operating room and on to the road to recovery. In those moments, she was absolutely present. She wasn't lost somewhere in the future she could not influence or control. She was right there in the moment making the most of each one. 

Well, her gorgeous little lady did come out of that room and she fought for two weeks in the hospital to recover through infection and sickness and things that would be too difficult for some adults to endure and conquer. Yet, she conquered every last obstacle - and just like her mama - she showed such serenity and grace. I didn't know until a few weeks ago that I could look up to a twelve pound little being, but I wholeheartedly regard her as my tiny hero, or should I say heroine! 

Thank you, Nicki and Claire, for awakening me to the power and beauty of living in the present. Thank you for being such bold examples of what it looks like to be here right now - making the most of each second we have. I feel so blessed to know you and to learn from you...

Life is fragile and can be fleeting, even when you least expect it. I wasn't going to mention this next experience, but if I didn't, I suppose I wouldn't be honoring my own rule: to be honest about my thoughts and feelings within this space, even if it hurts a little or makes me feel more vulnerable (something I also deeply fear). 

A few weeks ago, I wasn't really feeling that great... I just felt "off" and wasn't sure exactly why (other than the usual I'm a mother of two young boys rationale). I've just started weaning my youngest, so I figured that my hormones were all out of whack (and most likely, they were!) and waited for them to settle down. After a week of feeling "off" I realized my instincts were telling me I'd felt this way before... So, I took a pregnancy test and very unexpectedly got a positive result! It was faint but it was certainly there. I was shocked. We hadn't even been trying, but any child is absolutely a pure blessing in my heart. I took two more to be sure (if you know me you are not at all surprised by this...) All remained ever-so-faintly positive. I told Phil (of course) and my Mom (of course). I waited to contact the doctor until the next week. It was still extremely early (end of 4 weeks), and although I was excited, something deep within me was feeling very unsettled and protective. 

A few days later I  had some fairly strong cramps and a few lower back pains, which I did not think much of as I'd felt both before. I chalked them up to very early growing pains. Again, though, deep in my mind (or maybe even my soul), I knew something just didn't feel "right." That night, as I said my usual prayers I remember talking to God and telling him that I completely trusted him. I explained that I felt something was wrong. I prayed that if this little life was not meant to be that I would understand and accept his will. I prayed for a sign... God has shown me so many signs time and time again throughout my life. Each time I was confused or hurt or even ridiculously happy, I felt him there showing me the way. 

Well, early that next morning, I realized that just as soon as this life has started it was now ending. My motherly instincts were strong and right on. God was giving me his sign. It was never meant to be... 

At first, I felt at peace. Then, I felt like I had failed. It's hard to explain, but I felt like something I did was at fault or that maybe something I was doing in my life was at fault, and perhaps this was my karma at play... I felt very confused and hurt and empty. I also felt pretty irrational, because how could I feel so sad about something many women would've completely missed and dismissed as a late or heavy period? It was too early to feel sad wasn't it? So many people had gone through much, much worse... I felt alone in my feelings - helpless, guilty and alone. I didn't really know how to talk about it to Phil or my Mom, and I wished I wasn't so in tune to my body as I apparently was... In other words, I wished I had never ever thought to take that stupid test!!! After all, this was only my second cycle after Cooper and I wasn't even ready to be pregnant again... Yet, I soon realized after feeling all of that, that what I was really feeling was grief.

However short-lived and early it was, for the first (and hopefully only) time, I had experienced what so many women experience at some point during their child-bearing years - what it feels like to gain and then lose the "hope" of a little life... I am very fortunate that it occurred so very early, as I'm not sure my heart could have handled something happening later on... And as strange as it may sound, those sad moments also opened my eyes much wider to all the beauty and life that already surrounds me

 I have two handsome, healthy, spirited, funny and loving little boys. I watch them grow every day into their individual selves and the pride I feel is indescribable. The love I have for them extends far past my arms to hug and lips to kiss them with... 

I have a handsome, noble and hard-working husband who is a wonderful partner to navigate through life and parenthood with, and he always keeps me grounded. 

Both of my parents, younger brother and even my Grandma are all living and very much involved in our lives, showing such love and undying support. I have lovely friends who are also my family. 

I have my health. I am safe, warm and alive. I AM BLESSED. SO VERY BLESSED.

What I know is this... Life is delicate and fleeting, beautiful and sad, confusing and satisfying. I've been reminded of all these things lately. Most of all, I know that God is present in all of our lives - every single day. In your moments of joy, fear, gratitude, anger, and especially in your minutes and hours and sometimes even days of loneliness. He's there. He's present. 

Try being present in your own life. Pray. Listen. Reach out. Look around you, and often directly in front of you. Stop trying to plan every detail of tomorrow and just live in today. It's not easy, believe me I know, but it is necessary. 

Every day you wake up (even if it's with a headache) is a gift. Every day you have another chance to open your eyes is another chance you have to take a look at the blessings that surround you. 

I'm awake, and for now I'm living in this moment - right here in this moment... Thank God for that!

A heart and head too full...

Dear Neglected Blog,

I'm sorry that it's been two weeks-ish since my last post, but life has been crazy. Crazy busy, crazy good, crazy bad and just plain crazy. I'm not going to lie, there were probably times I could have thought of something to blog about, but honestly my brain and body have been on overdrive lately and I have lacked the motivation/energy to try to find words for all that's been going on. Excuses, excuses... Lame.  know. I'm sorry. 

Over the last few weeks..

Cooper has gotten his first cold (after being free of sickness for over 9 months). He handled it like a rock star and sailed through with ease (just with a few more boogers than usual).  After Cooper recovered, I got bronchitis and then an awful ear infection (outer and inner), which totally threw me for a loop as I thought only kids got those! 2 pain medications and 3 antibiotics later and I'm finally on the mend.  Although, my ears are still full of fluid and won't pop (which is beyond irritating), but at least the stabbing pain is gone. I seriously have complete admiration for kiddos that suffer through these terrible infections with a smile. Lord knows I wasn't smiling!

 Moving on from the seasonal sickness, I took the leap and officially started my own business, "Compton Communications (www.compton-communications.com). It's been truly fun getting back into writing professionally and communicating with clients over 3 feet tall. Although, I do enjoy the kisses my tiny "clients" pay me in... Right now, any time the kids are sleeping, I'm on my computer or on the phone making sure that everyone in my network knows that I'm ready and available to take on new projects. There's so much more desire to succeed and prosper when the only one moving you forward or holding you back is YOU. I put far more pressure on myself than anyone I ever worked for did... 

And here's the biggest and "baddest" news... Phil recently found out he's going to have to start traveling again for his job. He hasn't traveled consistently since before we were married in 2008. 2 houses, 2 dogs and 2 kids later, a lot had changed! Right now, it appears he'll he traveling the majority of the week every week.

Besides being heartbroken that my  best friend and partner won't be by my side every day and night, I am also heartbroken for my boys. Caden, especially, has so many rituals that involve Phil. He helps bathe him and blows the best and biggest bubbles. He wrestles with him as only dads can and transforms into the tickle monster to get every last giggle out. Every night we read to the boys together and after I say goodnight, Phil stays with Caden and tucks him tightly in and kisses all his "boo-boos" (most imaginary cuts and bruises) so they feel better. 

Phil is as hands-on as any Dad (or parent) could ever be, and as I think about him "leaving on a jet plane" to report to work in a different city miles away from those he loves and those who love him, my heart aches unbearably. 

I'm no stranger to experiencing life without one parent around during the week. My dad traveled often when my brother and I were young and is still up in the air most of the time twenty-something years later! Although, like anything in life, we got used to him being away and only home on the weekends, I remember feeling constant loneliness and being jealous of the other kids whose fathers were home every night for dinner. 

I didn't realize until how how exhausting, frustrating and lonely that must've been for my mom too. She did absolutely everything for us and never ever took a break (that I can remember). While my dad retired in his hotel room in the evening, my mom's work day never stopped. Even when she closed her eyes, she slept with one half open. I took all of that for granted of course as a child, but now as I get ready to face it, I can honestly say I'm terrified and dreading it. 

I know that I've never been good at being alone. I'm the kind of person that is much happier around a chosen few that I love. I can adapt and I will, but I really despise that I have to and that the boys have to adapt to not seeing their "da-da" every night. They are both beautiful, curious, loving and perfectly secure little beings right now, and I want NOTHING to chip away at their self confidence. The real world will do that soon enough. Why in the hell does it have to happen now? 

As you can see, the news of Phil traveling is not settling well with me. I am desperately trying to think of it as a "temporary" thing, but I am beyond terrified of not knowing what the future holds. I've had my husband home with me for 5 years. That is all of our married life together! How can I not be terrified of doing this all without him? He's truly been our rock and without him here I feel already as if I'm beginning to crumble. 

I'm a strong woman, of that I have no doubt, but given the choice I would never choose for any of us to be apart. This is going to be really, really tough...

My mind and heart are too full and the right words haven't come easy these last couple of weeks, so forgive me for my absence and pray that I somehow find the strength to accept the road ahead (praying hard that it's a very short one). 

To my Cooper Ryan...

As I nursed Cooper before bed tonight, I couldn't help but kiss his beautiful face over and over again. This wonderfully sweet-natured, giggling, raspberry-blowing baby boy will be nine months old tomorrow. It's a little shocking how fast that time has gone. I remember feeling the same way with Caden around that age. Of course, I had also just found out I was already pregnant again with Cooper! 

Somehow though these past nine months seem to have gone by at triple the speed! I'm certain it's because there are now two little boys who need my attention, a new home we've inhabited and most recently a new business I've started. I feel very blessed, but there are moments like tonight, as I stared into Cooper's twinkling eyes and ran my fingers through his wispy blonde hair, that I truly want to stop the clock. 

Every minute my babies grow a little older and a little more independent (recently a lot more in Caden's case). Every day, they grow a little more into the great men they'll become. I can't put into words (hard to believe, I know) the level of pride or the magnitude of love I feel for these little boys. It's the kind of love that fills every inch of me with joy and awakens me with worry. It's the kind of love that makes me give everything I have and never feel like it's enough. If I never accomplished anything else in this lifetime, my two beautiful boys would be enough.

I didn't plan this post as an ode to my children, but I just feel so overwhelmed with the feeling of life so quickly moving that I guess that's what it's become. 

In honor of my lovable, chunky little guy and his soon to be nine months of life, here are the...

"Top Ten Things I adore about Cooper Ryan Smith"

1. His crinkly, smiling eyes always so full of light and joy 

2. His kissable cheeks - so soft and smooth and perfect

3. The way we lock eyes when he's nursing. I treasure those sweet moments.

4. His wispy, feathery tow-headed mane that curls around his face and on the top of his sweet head

5. His infectious giggle 

6. His insatiable appetite - 3 jars of food and some yogurt? Pretty typical meal for this guy

7. The way he loudly says "muah!" as he kisses me over and over again 

8. His sheer determination to move himself forward only to end up going backwards 

9. His "clap, clap, clap" 

10. His beautiful soul... He truly shines from the inside out with joy and love and a serenity I've never seen. I'm so very blessed God chose me to be his mama. Happy nine months, "Coopie." 

Feeling full...

Sorry for not meeting my weekly commitment to share a post in bloggerverse last week. I got caught up with life and all of its wackiness. I am recommitting myself now. No excuses.

It isn't that life has been particularly crazy or any more hectic than usual. It's that it's been more full--- full of finishing up home improvement projects, welcoming cooler weather and warmer clothing, swinging on the front porch, encouraging Cooper to crawl, watching "Monsters, Inc." for the 500th time, and jumping into managing my very own business while remaining a full time stay at home mom. It's been a very full life lately, and you know what? I really like it that way. 

Like many moms, I was starting to feel like I was getting lost in the shuffle and flattened by the daily grind. Everyday was  starting to feel like "groundhog day" (see previous post). I felt like a robot programmed with one setting -"motherhood." The problem was there was no "OFF" button and little to no recharging. 

Upon re-reading my last entry, I realized that I had to shake things up a little, and commit to finding some time (even an hour a day and/or night) to enjoy being me again. I'll be honest, I'm good at making lists, but not so good at following them. I think I do if more to attempt to get things off my mind, but not necessarily to put into action. I admire those of you who can pen a killer "to do" and then execute it like there's no tomorrow. Since that's unfortunately not me, I just started doing the stuff bouncing around my head, or the stuff kept me wide awake at night. Stuff like... 

Finally creating "planes, trains and automobiles" art for Caden's room (Now, cooper's room is next!)

It's hard to see the detail here... But I had a lot of fun getting back in touch with my creative and artistic side, and it truly helped me relax. All four pieces are now displayed on Caden's wall and every time he looks at them he says "mama" and smiles the biggest smile. That's like getting a "five star review" in my book.

Getting to the gym six days a week for forty minutes of fitness - rain or shine, cranky or happy, tired or more tired... I'm there.

I'm not a calorie counter and I don't usually know how much I weigh on any given day. That's not why I go to the gym. I'm there because it keeps me sane. Whether it's the natural endorphins, the time to myself, or the boost of confidence that I feel when I walk out the door to trek back home, exercise really is my drug. 

Framing and hanging our recent family photos in the "perfect" spot 

This may seem pretty simple, but I bought those frames when we first moved into our house six months ago. I had no idea where they would go, how thru would look, or what photos would inhabit them. So, for six months I had six frames (one not pictured here) that sat without purpose in a dark closet until one of my late night revelations brought them to life (well, that and a little help from my handy husband). I am so pleased with his they turned out! 

Welcoming fall into our home, and particularly to our front porch...

A little autumn garland, a warm wreath, some new colorful cushions, a few mums and voila! All I need now is a cup of hot cocoa, a good book and both kids napping! I love this time of year and am grateful we have a beautiful space to enjoy it.

And last but not least, I started my own communications/marketing business - something I've always wanted to do...

When I left my corporate job after Cooper was born, I knew I was leaving so that I could spend more time with my boys, so that I could experience them as little people navigating through the world for the first time. I also feared that I'd not be able to find a way to satiate my urge to write and create. That's a big reason I began this blog. I knew it would be good reflective therapy as an exhausted mama, a nice way to capture memories (naughty and nice ones) for the boys, and hopefully a place where other moms (and dads) could go to giggle and nod and maybe even cry (the therapeutic kind of tears that happen when you realize there are others out there like you...). This blog helped me realize that I could take an even bigger leap. Why not start my own business? Why not just try? So, after a few more staring-at-the-ceiling self reflections, I decided the details (business cards, website, marketing) could wait. I'd just try my hand at what I do best ... Jumping in. It's only been a few short weeks, but I have some initial assignments booked and I'm feeling the love. 

As I wrap this up, I'm gotta say I'm feeling very full --- full of gratitude that God has given me the capacity to nurture those I love most while also nurturing my my mind, body and soul. 

I needed a wake up call, so I stopped making lists. I started making things happen. 

To all the mamas (and dads) still awake out there counting ideas and hopes and to do's instead of sheep, stop over thinking it... Don't starve yourself of your own time and talents. Spend time filling yourself up again. Be full. 

My very own "Groundhog Day"

Let me start by saying that there is not a single day that goes by that I don't realize how fortunate I am to be healthy, to have children and a husband who are healthy, to live in a beautiful home with many amenities that I know many people in our nation and beyond live without. I am grateful just to be here and I completely get that and thank god everyday. That being said, I will also admit that there are many mornings (like this morning) that I wake up, as I kick both lazy dogs to the end of the bed, stare at the ceiling and try to muster up the energy and enthusiasm to dive into my very own Groundhog Day. And as I round the corner (before I've had my coffee)  into the kitchen and hear my two year old whining "Mama... Mama.... Cookies! Cookies," I can totally relate to Phil Connors as he tries unsuccessfully to avoid the seemingly ever-present and über irritating Ned. I'm not comparing my toddler to an irritating insurance salesman (or am I?), but I am saying that life as a SAHM can be pretty monotonous at times

Each morning without fail, Caden will demand cookies for breakfast and I will have to explain to him (for the bizillionth time) why we can't have cookies for breakfast. I will shove a plate of pancakes or peanut butter toast in front of him, while opening up a can of puréed bananas for Cooper and trying desperately to get caffeine into my system (if I could have a drip IV I would) and maybe a few real bites of food (wait... is a protein bar food?). This is my every.single.morning. There is very little variation. Though I cannot say that each day unfolds exactly the same way, I can certainly promise that there will be several nonsensical tantrums, at least a few viewings of Monsters, inc. (or "momers" as Caden calls it), lots of wet and/or super smelly diapers, a handful of Cooper being tackled by Caden encounters, a minimum of two timeouts, countless wiping of the counters/floors/walls/hands/faces, and an endless stream of "No...No...  Mama said No... No... NO!!!" The scenery and activities may shift slightly, but the characters and plot remain the same (quite similar to any movie starring Jennifer Aniston). So, while I still count my blessings everyday, I sometimes find my mind wandering to the world that exists beyond these kiddie-smudged walls.

I know I'm not alone. I see it in the haggard, vacant stares of other mamas that I spy at the grocery store. I watch the mom next to me on the elliptical as she run-pedals into oblivion just trying to hang to the maybe thirty or forty mere minutes she has to herself... I hear it in the strained voices of moms imploring their adventurous kiddo to "get out from under the table... Stop licking that... Get that out of your mouth right now... 1...2...3..." I see it, I feel it, I hear it and I get it.  I'm right there with you Mommies. We are seeing our shadows together - day in and day out. 

So,  here's what I've decided. I'm going to do at least 1-2 things everyday (with or without the kiddos) that make the day stand out in some way. They don't have to be big or even that exciting. They just have to be something that keeps things interesting and keeps me in the world of the living. Here are a few things I've done over the last few days... 

1. Have a dance party in the kitchen with the boys: this was so much fun and a great way to burn some calories and some energy before nap time. We covered some oldies and some newbies and made up some pretty awesome dance moves too! Look out Miley. You may know how to twerk it, but me and my boys know how to work it! 

2. Paint my nails with a color or pattern I wouldn't normally do:  This sounds minor but it actually did a lot to brighten my mood and my day. I usually play it pretty safe with a palette of corals and pinks, but check out these digits.... Pretty "cray, cray" right? It's the little things...

3. Do something artistic (or get back in touch with the more interesting part of my brain):  I used to be a very creative, vibrant, innovative person, and too often I forget to let that side of myself out (or I'm too exhausted to even try to create anything other than a weekly grocery list). I have been wanting to do some artwork for the boys' rooms, starting with Caden, who has a "planes, trains and automobiles" theme. This is a work in progress (and only the first of a few pieces to come), but here's proof I have preserved some of my creativity... (Again, it's not done yet...)

While those things may seem unexciting to the average person, or non-parent, they definitely add a little zest to my life and a slight spring to my step, and most importantly they help to differentiate the long days and nights that seem all too often to blend together. They remind me that I'm still at steering wheel (somewhat) in control of my own life. They make me feel alive. I may still have a lot to learn about motherhood and being an adult (because I still feel like a kid), but I do know that it's not easy to stay positive when your life starts to feel like it's a little lackluster. So, if a daring new nail color or a dance-off in the den is what gives it a little pizazz... Well, then I'm going to dance my colorful, creative hiney off! The dishes and laundry can wait. After all, something tells me they'll be there tomorrow...

    This kid knows how to enjoy life that's for sure...

Mom A.D.D.

I have so much "stuff" floating around in my head right now, all of which I could devote an entire post (or two). I'm not positive I've always had ADD, but I'm fairly certain I've developed it as a mom. In fact, sometimes I not only have spur of the moment, flitting half-thoughts inside my head, but I actually verbalize them to other people and then act surprised when they seem lost or confused about what the heck I'm talking about. For example, the husband and I will be sitting at our nightly dinner, which consists of us shoving half-chewed up bites rapidly in our mouths while asking Caden to "stop climbing on the table, no seriously stop it right now...stop... 1-2-3..." Phil will start telling me something we need to do or a really interesting story about a really interesting thing that happened at work, and I will suddenly say "oh wow so that's what it is... I get it now... yes that's it.., she was right!" Phil will stare at me like I have a huge glob of food on my forehead (which I probably do), and suddenly I'll realize that I had another disruptive, out of left field thought that was not intended to be out loud and without any transition whatsoever. Happens all the time - kind of like trying to focus on this blog post tonight. Wait. What was I writing about? .... Oh yeah.... All the "gems" that float around in my mom brain... Right... 

So, because there's too much in my noggin and not enough energy in my fingers, here's an executive summary of what I'm currently thinking/focusing on:

 

1. How do you differentiate between the "terrible twos" and behavior that is beyond that cliche? 

Caden is a very sharp, very active and very willful toddler. His willfulness is mostly what is causing mama and him to butt heads more often than not these days. It's not that he puts himself in harms way or lacks caution, it's simply that he is always testing me and very purposely defying me. I will ask him to clean something up and he will look me straight in the eye and turn into a pint size tornado pulling every toy and trinket off the shelves and on to the floor, while tipping over easels and bonking cooper on the head... It's amazing the havoc he can cause in a matter of a few seconds! That brings me to my second topic...

 

2. How do you effectively discipline a two year old?

Recently (starting 3 weeks ago), I started the "1-2-3" warning followed by a 2 minute timeout (a minute for each year of age) with Caden. He seems to respond to this and is apologetic after receiving a timeout, but the behavior is not necessarily improving. So, I'm constantly researching the most effective ways to discipline yore toddler while also teaching him cause and effect so that he's learning how to modify his behavior. I think what I'm missing is talking through the process more with him (at least that's what the experts in cyberspace are telling me...). He needs to know his feelings are validated while also learning to use his "words" to tell me why he's frustrated. And speaking of words...

3. What is a "normal" range of vocabulary for a typical two year old? I know it likely varies a lot from tot to tot. I also know that girls are typically much more verbal than boys. Lord knows I was (and still am)! Caden is just saying a few phrases, but no real sentences yet. When he wants something he typically brings me to it or points to it or uses part of a word, and because I speak "cadenese" fluently, I know what he's asking. So, what's the real "normal?" Today, it seems like everyone is so quick to get their child signed up for speech therapy if they're not communicating as expected... But the truth is I'm not sure what I should expect at this point of our two year journey together.  I don't want to jump the gun, yet I don't want to be dismissive... What's the right answer (and why is parenting a toddler like a game of jeopardy)? 

There you have it... Those are the primary questions and thoughts running rampant in and outside my head along with trying to sleep train Cooper (who would rather sleep-eat with mama all night), restart potty training (kind of) with Caden, trying to keep in touch with my own interests/hobbies/work (yeah right), and searching for some time with friends had my very neglected husband (sorry Phil).

Most of the time, I maintain a pretty laid back kind of vibe, and despite the thousands of things I have to do and figure out, I remember to get on the floor and just play with my kids, to cuddle with them on the couch and to give them as many kisses as I can fit into one day at a time, BUT I then find myself laying in bed on nights like tonight wondering how to answer all the questions and quiet the doubt in my head. It truly never ends... And tomorrow it will all begin again, and I'll have more questions without answers and more worries about mistakes I I'm making... I'll also likely shout out a few things at the dinner table that make absolutely no sense (sorry again, Phil). Ahhhhh.... So..... 

What were we talking  about again?!?! 

Dear Miley...

Sorry for the longer-than-usual lapse in posting. We were at the beach! Originally, I planned to dedicate this blog to our beach-going days, but I now have something more pressing on my mind (and unfortunately invading my short-term memory). It involves a certain formerly g-rated now turned xxx-rated Disney darling and her recent cringe-worthy porn-formance at MTV's 2013 VMA awards. I really don't want to write about her at all, but I DO want to write about what it truly means to be "lady" in a society that is breeding "tramps." 

Dear Miley - We get it. You're a far cry from your squeaky-clean, sweet-talking, fun-loving Disney pop star alter ego. Hannah Montana is not only dead and buried, she's turning in her pink and purple bedazzled grave after yesterday's VMA debacle. 

Dear Miley - You claim you're not a role model. That's refreshing, as the only role you're playing is one of a trashy, classless wannabe temptress trying to mask a desperate, overexposed, confused young woman. That role is not one I wish for any woman or girl or person to model in any way. Ever.

Dear Miley - The eyes-wide-open, mouths agape, frozen faces that you're seeing staring back at you are not in awe of you, but in contempt of your behavior. It's not the gyrating hips, sexual-simulating moves and latex that shock us. It's the blatant absence of dignity and self respect you so freely display. It's the stain you leave in the minds of impressionable young girls (and boys, too). 

Dear Miley - It's hard enough for children (especially girls) to stay grounded with some sort of moral code while growing up in a society that exploits sexuality at a very young age, encourages lust for material things, and breeds disrespect towards self and others, because being "cool" is much more important than having values and acting with any sort of class. You're definitely not a role model, but you are clearly the perfect puppet with no conscience to guide you, only the strings of money and fame (at all costs). 

Dear Miley - What I hope and pray is that if by some chance impressionable young teens saw your latest tryst on stage, they themselves have what you are clearly lacking, a sense of right and wrong and a strong set of guiding hands (parents or guardians) to turn the TV off and the family conversation on.

Dear Miley - You're only young once, and YOLO and all that jazz, but with that one life comes the chance to make a difference in the lives of others, to be remembered for your talent and heart versus your body and blatant self-destruction. Like it or not, you live a very public life, and while I can not imagine how exhausting and difficult that is, it's the life you willingly choose to lead each day. You worked hard to achieve all that you've achieved in twenty years, will you now spend the next twenty acting like a fool just to show us that you can? People will tune in. After all, misery loves company. Just understand the difference between tuning in to watch a class act versus another train wreck. 

Dear Miley - You succeeded in your mission to get all kinds of attention. From the Internet, to every form of social media, to the television, to radio and word of mouth, you are indeed "the talk of the town." The talk is of another self-indulgent, desperate, shock-hungry, messed up teen who uses her breasts and butt more than her brain.

Dear Miley - When the tweets die down and the news ticker stops flashing your name, you'll forever be left with your own instant replay - the one of you exploiting yourself on a very public stage in a very profane way while everyone watched with disgust and sadness NOT admiration. 

Dear Miley - Your children, should you have them, will one day watch you too and wonder if that's the way they should treat their own bodies - "just like mama." Will you tell them then like you've told everyone now that you're "not a role model?" 

Dear Miley- The future isn't as far off as you think. 

Sincerely,

Your Neglected Moral Code

I knew the day would come...

This has been a week so far... It's been one of those kind of weeks that truly test you as a mother (and even as a rational human being). Honestly, I'm frustrated, frazzled, tired, and a little guilt-ridden all rolled into one bleary-eyed, coffee-addicted, teeth-clenching thirty-something who doesn't feel so great at the whole parenting thing this week. 

I knew the time would come that I would tire of the whole "make everyday a great day" mantra (not that I still don't try, but man it's exhausting), or when my rose colored glasses would get cracked (beneath the hands of a very trying toddler). I knew the day would come that I would just sit on the couch clutching my coffee for dear life as I succumbed to the fact that I was going to have to pick up the hundred-billion trillion Lego pieces and train track parts that were now littered across my entire downstairs (and do so for the millionth time that day). I knew the day would come that I would want to give Elmo a not-so-friendly pat on the back, or insist that Thomas just listen to Sir Topham Hat for once in his ever-tooting life!! Yes, I knew the day would come, but I hoped it wouldn't. 

I wanted to be the mom who always woke up with a smile, perfected sing-a-longs while making a scrumptious but healthy breakfast, the mom who made running errands with kids look like fun, or the mom who could just look at her toddler in the middle of a nice restaurant and know that that cute little face wouldn't dream of screaming like a banshee or insisting on going outside after just sitting down. I definitely wanted to be the mom who NEVER forgot an appointment and always turned in all important paperwork on time (and not ever at the last possible minute). I wanted to be the mom who truly enjoyed every single minute with my children, watching them grow, learn and play. I would never do anything that would cause me to feel guilty or to second and triple guess myself. Each day would be different and new and wonderful... Or so I thought.

This week proved to me three primary things:

1. Eventually, the optimism fades and you become a realist. You realize not everyday will go as planned (or not planned) and you won't always be able to see the silver lining in the chewed up, spit out food adorning the kitchen table, floors and the dogs ears. That's ok. Sometimes situations just suck (especially the ones you have to clean up). Own it. Admit it. Laugh if you can (or count to ten) and move on.

2. A "look" from you at your defiant, screaming, standing-up in his chair toddler in the middle of a crowded restaurant will NOT do anything, but possibly make him laugh (at you). Be ok with admitting that you alone are not enough to tame your wild child. You're not a failure either. It just means that you've now reached the point of your parenting journey when a discipline routine comes into play. To each his or her own, but for us the "1-2-3" warming followed by a timeout is starting to show our little tyrant who's boss (hint: rhymes with llama). We are both learning that consistency is key, and empty threats do nothing but take up needless time and energy. Caden may be headstrong, but my question to my little tyke is always "hey, buddy... Where do you think you got that from?" (Silence. Big brown eyes looking up at me.) "Yep. You got it. So, I'd suggest NOT doing that again."

3. There WILL be days when you will feel guilty because you think of all the things you did or didn't do, didn't do enough of or did too much of... You will second and triple guess your parenting decisions and reactions. You will question your questions. Why did you let your kid eat a cookie (or two) before dinner? How much of that stupid tv show did your child actually happen to see? Could you have prevented that spill on the sidewalk? Did you really just feed your baby store bought baby food?!? Why is your toddler so defiant... is it something you did? The guilt will always be there. Always. Every day. Some days will be better and some much worse, but I'm learning the guilt-ridden self-doubt is a motherly gift we all share. So, with that gift, I'm going to try my best to learn from it and with it, to adjust things accordingly,and move on as best I can on a better (or at least more experienced) foot. I'm going to try hard to NOT beat myself up or start planning my children's future therapy sessions (because I let one of them cry while trying to deal with another's tantrums). With self-exploration comes growth, right? As moms, we do a lot of both. 

This week has NOT been my favorite, but it has been a great one for learning, and for that I am grateful. That being said, let me be frank by admitting that if the bin of Legos happens to disappear into oblivion... I have absolutely no idea who took them and where they went. Not a clue...

This was probably pre-Lego tantrum freak out when he was taking a moment to be "sweet"...

Most days...

Sometimes I feel a little guilty for not being able to keep up with a daily or even biweekly schedule for this blog, but then I remind myself that some days I barely have the energy to brush my teeth before bed (especially after negotiating with a certain 2-year old to brush his...). So, for anyone who may still be reading this, thanks for hanging in there with me.

Most days, I enjoy staying at home with my two little men. I don't mind the seemingly constant spills, the continuous cycle of cleaning up or even the pair of poopy diaper changing. 

Most days I can sit through an episode or two of Sesame Street and enjoy humming along. I can sit on that floor and play a seemingly endless game of car racing, or attempt to build a Lego castle (only to be trampled by an impatient toddler two seconds later). 

Most days, I'm fine being a human trampoline, milk machine, personal chef, sleep trainer, toy mechanic, pacifier retriever, professional piggyback transporter, bath giver and book reader. 

Most days, I'm OK giving 99.5% of my time and energy to two little boys (plus 2 dogs and a neglected husband), so that I can use the remaining 0.5% to drag my groggy eyed, spit-up stained self to the gym where I force myself to get through 45 minutes of exhaustion... Ahem, I mean exercise. 

Yes, most days I'm totally cool being a 24/7 go-to-mom convenience store, BUT some days and in some moments, I miss my freedom. 

I miss dressing up for work (where a dry fit tee and yoga pants were NOT part of the office dress code). I miss high heels (or even wedges) versus flip flops and sneakers. 

I miss conversing with people over 3 feet tall who speak in complete (and logical) sentences, drink coffee/tea (or something stronger) versus a sippy cup of milk. 

Dare I say it, I miss the adult world. I may even miss "work" (as in my former career, because what I do now is DEFINITELY very hard work). 

I don't miss the corporate world of invisible but obvious political lines that are not to be crossed. What I do miss is the thrill of turning a great idea into a useful reality, an issue into an opportunity, and most of all a blank page (or screen) into a one-of-a-kind piece I could sign my initials to... 

Don't get me wrong, I still use my creative side daily to come up with a fun, toddler-friendly, semi-educational activity or experience that will occupy our time (at least a few minutes anyway), but I miss using that creative side of my brain to create things beyond the playroom walls. 

So, after some soul searching this week, I've come up with a short list of goals I'd like to tackle in the remainder of the year:

1. Market my freelance writing/communications services:

I told myself I'd take the summer to just enjoy being a stay at home mom. Well, sadly the summer is coming to a close, so I'm starting up the press and getting the word out now. If you, or someone you know is looking for an experienced writer/communications professional, let me know! 

2. Begin writing and finish a children's book (or two):

This has always been an interest of mine and something I've wanted to accomplish for a long time, but as with too many things, I've put off. Now that I have daily inspiration for content, I know there is truly no time like the present. This is a gift I want to leave my children. So, I'm putting it out there for all to see...  Feel free to pester me about it. I'll need the nudge. Seriously.

3. Enjoy more time with my husband: 

This is definitely a personal versus professional goal, but it is something I don't take lightly either. Being a parent has been the greatest gift for both of us, but it has also been the most time-consuming thing we've ever done together. Even though we sit down for dinner every evening and sleep in the same bed every night, I know we aren't getting enough time to just enjoy each other, to share a meal without tiny hands reaching into our plates, or to sit in a restaurant without two highchairs and a mountain of miscellaneous crumbs under our feet. I haven't been good at setting time aside for just us, and I want to work to change that. 

So there you have it... My short list of personal goals that will hopefully yield satisfying results and keep the career woman me who shares residence with the mommy me alive and well. 

(Prayers, sideline cheers, and high-fives accepted and appreciated in advance.)

Transitions...

I'm lying here listening intently for a newly-turned two year old to shout for "mama" or for the sound of books being torn and thrown off his shelf, but so far... I just hear the sound of sweet, silent slumber. Tonight is the very first night Caden is sleeping in his "big boy room" in "his big boy bed." I knew this day was coming. We've spent a lot of time in his new room lately, reading some new books, examining the many "choo-choos" on his new train sheets, staring at the letters hanging on the wall that mama painted for him when he was a baby. We've become very familiar with this room, but until tonight my little boy still slept in the nursery in his crib. 

Until tonight, I held on to that little piece (the crib) of him being a baby, and because of that I guess I thought he would hold on to the crib too...but he didn't and he's not. He's peacefully snoozing in his roomy new bed with all his favorite blankets and stuffed animals (and a few cars) tucked by his side. He's breezing through this milestone while I'm stumbling across it, teary-eyed and not quite ready for my "baby" to become a boy overnight. 

I've felt like that a lot lately, like I'm observing my sweet little men approach, tackle and pass milestones without second glance, while I am the one who constantly and longingly looks back. 

Cooper is sitting up on his own now, eating solids, grabbing everything in sight and blowing raspberries like a raspberry-blowing king (if ever there was one)! He's the most delightful, content, jolly, cherub-like baby that I've ever witnessed and I'm so very lucky that he's mine. He is "supposed" to be the next one to transition from our room to the nursery next week, but I'm feeling pretty weak right now, very sentimental and I'm not so sure this sappy mama can handle another transition so soon... I'm not so sure I want to... 

Yes, I know that when my alarm goes off tomorrow (either the one next to the bed, the one sleeping next to me, or the one snoozing in the other room), I will wish I had more time to sleep, but I'm hoping that I can think of just how quickly time passes while I'm wide awake watching my children grow up. Sleep can wait. They can't. 

To my Cadebug on his 2nd Birthday...

I'm thinking I can safely say at this point that this has become a weekly blog (with some exception), and I'm OK with that. I can manage that. There will be weeks I'll post more, but for now, I can commit to weekly(ish). Now, that's that's settled, I'd like to dedicate this post to my baby boy, Caden who isn't a baby anymore. He's two! 

In some ways, I can't believe it has been two years since I welcomed my first baby to the world on July 18, 2011. I still remember the tee shirt I wore as we checked into the hospital after having one of my required bi-weekly ultrasounds and stress tests, as I had low amniotic fluid (discovered at about 30/31 weeks). At exactly 37 weeks and 1 day, knowing our little boy was healthy and with strong lungs, I basically begged the technician to tell me my fluid was low enough to induce, because I was so tired of having to spend the night in the hospital getting pumped full of IVs that I knew were only a temporary fix. I wasn't allowed to go into the office anymore. I wasn't permitted to exercise, or do much of anything other than leave the couch to use the restroom. In other words, I WAS more than READY to be done being pregnant. My hospital bag was packed and loaded in my trunk, the carseat installed, and cell phone charged. So, when my doctor said it was "go time," off we went! 

I recall strolling across the walkway from my doctors office to the hospital (the two buildings are connected) and laughing with Phil that this "was not how we pictured getting to the hospital..." Before I knew I had low amniotic fluid, I just assumed that I would go into labor on my own and (just like in the movies) Phil would rush me in to the emergency room doors, frantically grabbing a wheelchair as, sweating profusely, I screamed in pain. Then, we'd go straight to the delivery room, I'd push and then we'd having our wailing, healthy baby boy! Instead, here we were calmly walking up to the maternity ward, neatly registering with the triage desk, and waiting in the waiting room to be called to be induced so we could jump start labor. The whole ordeal felt very surreal, extremely exciting, but very surreal.

Fast forward (except change fast to exceptionally slow) to 13 hours later, and the news was broken to me (by the nurse and then the doctor) that unfortunately I "was not progressing as expected and therefore a cesarean section would be needed due to the stress on myself and the baby." In that moment, I remember looking at Phil and knowing that this was it. I had done the best I could, and my body wasn't ready and far too tired to finish the job on its own.  I was at peace, and ready to meet my little man! Ok, I'll admit it, I was nervous too... Not for the surgery, but knowing that in just a little while I would be a mama, and responsible for a life other than my own. I had 37 weeks to get used to that, but it remained a very daunting realization. 

At exactly 11:23 p.m., Caden Patrick entered the world with the same vivacious energy and enthusiasm he brings with him today. Before I could see him, I heard him and at that moment, though heavily sedated, I felt a very strong twinge surge throughout my body. Although I couldn't move from the shoulders down, immediately I wanted to be with him. Already, my motherly instincts were awakened and charging fast. 

After checking his vitals and weighing him, Phil anxiously brought him over to me and said, as I locked eyes with Caden for the first time, "hi mama." I wanted to reach for him, but I couldn't actually hold him yet, so he just touched him against my cheek. My whole body surged again. It was like electricity quivering from my head to my toes. We were connected in a way I had never experienced before. It was primal and unbreakable. In that moment, I began to love unconditionally and unequivocally. That tiny 6 lb. 8 oz and 19.5" human being changed me immediately and forever for the better.  In that moment, I became a mama. 

Now, two years later my baby is a boy, a curly-headed, car-obsessed, sprinting, jumping, cookie-craving, baby-brother-tackling, water-loving, giggling, shrieking, healthy, silly-face making, determined, dancing, smart, loving little boy. I couldn't be prouder of him. I couldn't be more blessed to get to spend every day with him, and I couldn't be more in love with my spirited guy. That twinge that I felt when I first heard him cry still surges through me every morning I wake up and realize what lies ahead of me - another day of protecting, comforting, shaping and loving my baby as he slowly (and all too quickly) grows into an incredible man.

I love you with every ounce of my being, every fiber of my soul and every drumming of my heart my little Cadebug. "You are my sunshine..."

Surrounded by heroes...

It's one of those rare times (sadly) where I'm actually making another post in less than 48 hours! I'm really trying to be get into some sort of consistent pattern with my entries, but it's a little hard to do these days with two under two (ugh I still feel like that's such a cop out though...). Anyway, here's what is top of mind today...

I'm having one of those moments right now where I'm caught in a paradox of feeling grateful and blessed while also feeling guilty and heartbroken. If you've felt it, you know how heavy this particular emotional combination sits inside you. If you haven't felt it, you most likely will at some point in your life as a parent. For me, it happens when I hear about something really challenging and unexpected occurring in the life of a friend, the kind of thing that really shakes things up and forces them to face their worst fear as a parent, the fragility/mortality of their child's life... I've known several friends and acquaintances that have had to confront situations like this and I am still in awe of the strength, grace, humility and sheer determination they have each shown when thrown their own personal curveball. I don't know if they truly realize how amazing and inspirational they are to me (and many others) as we navigate through our own set of challenges (although much lesser in comparison). 

I feel so grateful and blessed that (thus far) my children are primarily healthy, and I promise you there is is not a day that goes by that I don't lift my head and heart in prayer and thank GOD for that. I don't take it for granted. I'm fully aware that things change quickly and life is a series of challenging ebbs and steady flows. I thank my "lucky stars" every night and yet I can't shake the fear, the worry and the sadness/guilt. I fear for my friends facing tough situations with their families, and I fear the unexpected for my own family. I worry constantly (seriously, ask anyone who knows me), and I go to bed feeling guilty that, for now, my life is pretty good and my children are OK. I feel guilty because it hurts my heart to know my friends are muddling through tough territory and all I can do is try to understand and be there for them in any way I can. I can pray for them and I do.... Every single day. 

I may feel defeated, at times, by an endlessly energetic toddler, needy baby and an ever-growing list of "to dos" but I know that's NOTHING compared to the REAL trials and tribulations that exist for parents that are just having to take things one day at a time... 

To all my friends that are facing the unexpected and unfair, you are amazing. Absolutely amazing. You are also human and allowed to breakdown and throw up your hands every so often. It's ok and if doesn't make you weaker. It makes you even stronger and more admirable. If I, as a friend and fellow mom, can take away even an ounce of your pain (or however pain is measured), please hand it right over and let me lessen your load. I'm ready and willing. 

I'm truly surrounded by heroes - big ones and little ones. They don't wear capes or masks. They wear bruises, a few scars, tough skin, determined minds and hearts of gold...

Back to our abnormal normal...

Well, we've been home for a few days now and most of the aftershock of our tumultuous trip has died down, or at least blended into our already zany day-to-day life. Caden is still a firecracker, but at least he is in a safe, familiar place where his brilliance can be enjoyed and any damage contained. He's home (one of his favorite words to say) vs. trapped in an unknown hotel room or thrown into a crowded new place with mostly new faces. He's surrounded by all his favorite toys (cars), foods, his dogs and his yard. Basically, he's got his mojo back (if toddlers can have mojo)...  And that means that mama can at least resume a somewhat normal semblance of a routine (both for me and the kids)! I found out the hard way last week that Caden is NOT the only one who self-destructs when removed from his routine. Mama and DaDa don't do so well either. In fact, out of all our wear travelers, baby Cooper won the "best behavior" award hands down! He certainly lived up to one of his nicknames, "Cooper the Trooper" (thank you, God once again for giving me such a loving, content baby the second time around). 

How cute is this guy, anyway?!

Here are "a few of my favorite things" that I (thoroughly) enjoyed at home this week: 

- my OWN bed! Don't get me wrong, the beds at the Marriott are ah-maze-ing compared to many other hotels, but there is NOTHING like climbing on to your own bed and sliding underneath your own covers (especially after the never ending 2-day trip home crammed in the back of an overstuffed SUV with a baby, 3 adults, way-too-many-bags-and-miscellaneous-items and a cranky, overstimulated iPad addicted toddler). I am currently OBSESSED with my bed. Seriously. Sadly, I'll never spend enough time there, but anytime is quality time for sure.

Here's a sprawled out toddler in our hotel bed - I was balancing on the edge next to him... 

- my own BATHROOM/SHOWER... I don't have to tell anyone who's traveled this I'm sure, but when you're road-tripping it and have to make a few pit stops and begrudgingly use the filthiest commodes America has to offer (I still can't believe Britney Spears went barefoot in one of those!) you truly learn to appreciate and even yearn for your own regularly cleaned and only mildly used toilet. I also couldn't wait to enjoy a flip flop-less shower (ok maybe I'm paranoid) topped off my using my OWN towel. I also couldn't wait to bathe Cooper and Caden in their own tub surrounded by their favorite bath time toys and non-travel size shampoos and lotions. 

- our KITCHEN with REAL non-restaurant food! Again, I appreciate that the Marriott Residence Inn serves complimentary breakfast every morning, and thank god NaNa and PaPa took Caden off of our hands for a few minutes each morning to enjoy this amenity... BUT I am sick of all restaurants, greasy spoons and road trip snacks from now until a-long-time-from-now. Bring on the home-cooked meals (and yes even the dirty dishes)! Caden is also LOVING eating all his favorite snacks at home, because let's face it, there just better that way...

- the LAUNDRY ROOM... Yes, I said it. I actually missed my washer and dryer! My mom and I ended up doing a couple light loads of wash at the hotel, but I felt like I was slumming it in the dorms again with my ten dollars worth of quarters and my overstuffed small laundry bags slung over my shoulder. There's nothing like hanging out in the community laundry room guarding your underwear and socks! I was pretty pleased to use my own detergent and dryer sheets this week and most of all to not worry about getting it out at the allotted 30-minutes-per-cycle per the hotel policy.

- my mindless TV shows... I didn't dare even switch on the television in the hotel room for fear of waking two sleeping kids that were taking up the ENTIRE bed (while the husband and I awkwardly occupied our tiny sections). I couldn't watch anything on my iPad, as my toddler hijacked it for the whole trip (and I let him because it kept him somewhat entertained and not-so-insane). Anyway, let me tell you what a complete luxury it is to flip on the tv while sitting in my OWN bed eating my OWN food while having somewhat more space (although I'm still surrounded by 2 dogs, a baby and a husband). It's pretty flipping fantastic! 

- finally, I'm just glad to be H-O-M-E... Because being home means that everyone's more at ease, more well rested, and therefore less moody, and therefore less inclined to act like a maniac (here's looking at you, Caden). I'm home with our hyperactive-but-oh-so-devoted pups. I am back at the gym (otherwise known as my addiction) and near my own coffee pot (that I don't have to sanitize and re-sanitize and still feel totally anxious to use). I'm captain of my ship again (or co-captain if the husband is reading this entry) and commander of my own tiny army. My little corner of the world has been reclaimed and things are once again back to our abnormal normal. 

Godspeed to all the mamas and dads out there getting ready to hit the road or board a plane/train/boat with young kids. Stay strong brave soldiers, try to enjoy the ride and make some memories and remember... You'll be home soon.

These little rascals look pretty happy to be home too... 

Post-traumatic trip with a toddler stress syndrome...

Sorry it's been so long since my last my post! We've been away for a family wedding and I've been recovering from what was undeniably one of the most stressful trips in my lifetime. For nearly a week, we were at the complete mercy of a unbelievably rambunctious, overstimulated, moody, too-smart, overtired and unpredictable almost-two-year-old. There are many things I learned the hard way over the course of the last six days. Perhaps the most important is: if you take a toddler away from everything he knows, mess up his routine and then expect him to "behave," you might as well throw yourself in a ring with a raging bull and expect he'll leave you alone. In other words, it's best to either have no expectations or to expect the worst (because it just may happen).

Is it possible to experience PTSD as a result of road-tripping it with a 23 month old? Over the past week, it was as if my beloved tot had been possessed by a tantrum-throwing, shrieking, kicking, hitting, sleep-resisting, absolutely-insane demon-child who I sincerely considered trying to exorcise. Now, I know I mostly jest about Caden's adventures (or misadventures) and his very colorful personality, but I kid you not when I say that I have NEVER experienced this side of him before the last few days, and I sincerely hope (and pray) that I NEVER experience it again (at least not without a glass of two of wine or a Xanax first). We are embarking on another long road trip and vacation in August, so to ensure I've learned something from the insanity that transpired last week, I'm going to list the worst offending moments of the trip and corresponding lessons I've learned as a result. 

1. Cracker Barrel is the WORST possible place to stop for breakfast on the road with a small child. Don't get me wrong, the foood itself is wholesome, hearty and tasty, but the fact that they have a shop that you HAVE to walk through to get to your table is TREACHEROUS for toddlers like mine who absolutely believes that EVERYTHING is his, or MINE as he screams over and over and over again (while white-knuckle clenching 5 toy cars and a giggling stuffed pig). I literally had to pin Caden down and forcefully carry him into the dining area of the restaurant while he shrieked as loud and as sharp as he could muster while kicking me, arching his back and flailing all his limbs wildly. The whole restaurant clearly understood that there was a very unhappy kid who had no problem disturbing everyone's meal and any hope of peace. A few screaming minutes later, as my husband swiftly exited the building (with a flailing Caden slung over his shoulder), he actually heard a man say to his wife, "are you sure you want to stay here with that kid screaming like that?" When he told me this, I shuddered (inside and out), because I remember being the lady (pre-children) who asked the guy (my husband) that very same question at least once before, while rolling my eyes and scoffing at the parents who obviously couldn't control their child. I swore that my children would behave simply because I would not permit them to misbehave (ironic much?). Anyway, I will now avoid Cracker Barrel like the plague when Caden is with me, or put a blindfold on him when we go. 

2. See above and apply the same bad behavior to a quaint (read: not kid-friendly) little Italian restaurant that my extended family chose for what was supposed to be a pleasant rehearsal dinner. True, we didn't have to deal with a jam-packed shop directly inside the restaurant, but we DID have to deal with an overtired, hungry, way-too-energetic toddler who refused to sit down or even stay in one place for more than a few seconds at a time. My aunt put together a sentimental slideshow of the happy nearly-newlyweds and it took every ounce of my strength to hold Caden back and prevent a disastorous finale to the end of the sideshow and dinner. The true testament of just how exasperated we all were at the end of the evening came when I glanced over at my dad who had the same stern look on his face that he used to get when my brother or I were very close to getting a swift kick in the "bee-hind." It's been a long time since I've seen that look.  know I know... Caden's only a toddler and is still trying to figure out the crazy, confusing world that he lives in, BUT the way he was acting was truly unruly and just downright naughty. He for the second day in a row was the "bad kid" I used to roll my eyes and shake my head at. He was THAT kid, and THAT kid was mine. It's a mighty humbling moment when you, as a parent vs. a pre-childbearing adult, come to that stark realization. For me, that moment required another glass of wine and a swift exit to the car with a (thankfully) sleeping baby and a tantrum-ing toddler. 

3. Evening weddings (or anything past 6 p.m.) are NOT conducive to young children doing much of ANYTHING you want them to... This includes: eating, staying in one place, playing with anything your brought for them vs. everything you don't want them to touch, not running around almost tripping already tipsy adults, etc.  At this point in our journey, I felt as if I was in a nightmare (except this one was starring a  particular pint-sized tow-headed monster vs. the one under my bed) and I REALLY wanted to wake up from it fast. We lasted a whole twenty minutes at the wedding reception (Phil had previously been sitting with the kids in the car during the actual ceremony to help keep the peace), and in that brief time, I spent the majority of my time chaperoning Caden on the sandy playground (in 3 inch heels too!) near the reception area. The worst part is that we all got dressed up (the husband looked so handsome in his crisp white shirt and pink tie, and the boys so dapper in their matching seersucker overalls...), and we once again ended up sitting in the car for the majority of the evening (while watching other kid-free adults have a good ole' time). In fact, our rental car saw the most action during our 6-day jaunt down south.

4. Anticipate getting little to NO sleep when trying to get cozy up  in a king size hotel bed with your husband, baby and toddler. Cooper is used to sleeping in our room at night and often in our bed, as I'm still nursing, but Caden has been sleeping on his own (still in a crib) for awhile now, and had no idea or any interest in bed-sharing with the fam. After being kicked in the head/stomach/back/jaw and "sleeping" with one eye open, as I carefully guarded baby Cooper from his big brother's violent tossing and turning, I can honestly say that whoever practices the "family bed" lifestyle/parenting is much more patient/tough/not in need of sleep than me. I need a sleep vacation after my vacation. 

5. When road tripping anywhere with a toddler for a distance over 100 miles (or more than a couple hours sitting in the car), do yourself a giant favor and try to find places to stop with space for your child to stretch their little legs and act like a maniac for five minutes or so (Bonus points if the place has clean-ish restrooms too). We didn't do this as much as I believe we should have, but we WILL be doing this in August IF I decide I'm brave enough to venture out with Caden on the road again (I literally just trembled again thinking about it)... Kids, especially really young kids, have short attention spans and lots of energy, so expecting them to sit still without issue for more than a couple of hours is asking far too much. Plus, if you're fairly active like me, a quick walk across the parking lot in the fresh (or not so fresh) air feels party darn good after being cooped up in a car with kids for awhile. 

In summary, I leave you with the ONLY proof that we actually were at my cousin's wedding... A series of photos taken in one of those suddenly trendy instant-photo-booths. I believe these photos appropriately show the progression of what a "good time" was had by all throughout our trip to the Deep South. I'm pretty sure what we won't be hearing (anytime soon at least) is "Hey, y'all come back now ya' here..."

At the End of MY Rainbow...

Hello again! As usual, it's been a jam packed few days and I'm sitting here with my body aching and my brain half asleep and half devoted to updating this blog (oh, and watching a little Downton Abbey, too). Between the typical toddler chasing and baby bouncing, I've also been busy preparing for a "rainbow theme" baby shower for one of my first-time mama friends who's expecting a little girl! Add in a little vacation packing for four, dog grooming and 2nd year birthday bash planning and you've got a pretty fair picture of my last few days. 

The husband has been pulled into the chaos as well. Here's a sampling of skills he was so excited to practice as he "helped" me prepare for the shower:

1. Flower arranging: truth be told, he's done this one before and he's rather good at it! However, I still love watching him arrange the roses ever-so-carefully... He he.

2. Hanging-frilly-things-in-too-high-for-me-to-reach-places: whether it's bright yellow pom-poms, or multi-colored sashes, he's quite handy! 

3. Helium tank-loosening: those things are not easy to loosen! That's what husbands are for, right?! 

4. Toddler-distracting: thank goodness he was able to whisk Caden away on an "adventure" for a few hours during the shower (Baby Cooper got to stay with Mama to help host)! I don't know if Caden would've allowed my friend the pleasure of opening up her own gifts, otherwise... Not when he's going through the "MINE" stage. From my iPad to my toothbrush to the garden hose and his cars... Everything is HIS right now. So, thank you, Phil for helping me to avoid an almost certain demise at the busy hands of a nearly-two-year-old.

As much as I jest, I know that I have a good catch. Seriously. In college, Philused to go print my last-minute papers out in the middle of the night at a school he did computer work for at the time. He always buys my favorite snacks at the grocery store without me asking. He works hard so that I can stay at home and work hard raising our little men. He fixes everything because he knows how to fix everything, and I don't tell him enough how impressive that is. With his steady rationale, he keeps me from going cuckoo (or at least he tries) when I'm stressed, exhausted and overwhelmed. Best of all, he plays with my hair every night as I fall asleep. There is NOTHING more comforting or loving than that. I love you so much, Phil. I wasn't planning on making this post so much about you, but I guess that what happens when you realize how lucky you are... And I do. I  really do. (NOTE TO HUSBAND: read this post the next time I get really upset with you and tell you how absolutely mean you are, because that won't be true, but this always will be.)

Enough with the mushy-love-stuff, right?! Here's a 'quick list' of our most memorable moments for the week: 

1. Cooper trying his first bites of solid food (apples & bananas). Let's just say he put the "bitter beer" face to shame (for those of you who understand that reference). He was NOT a fan, but we'll keep trying.... Mama's milk must be too tasty! 

"What the hell is this, Mom?! Are you serious?!"

2. Caden putting on a LIVE rock concert complete with his Christmas tunes microphone and his dog-shaped "electric" guitar. Move overJagger, you've got some fresh competition! This kid is clearly ready to ROCK (if by rock you mean jam to jingle bells while pressing down the same button on his guitar over and over again. Then, clearly, yes he is ready to rock)! 

My little rockstar 

3. Witnessing Caden truly show affection and love to his little brother. Most of the time, Caden will "hug" Cooper because we ask him to, but this week I saw him genuinely want to hug and kiss cooper and that made me a very proud mama. 

I love you, brother....

 

I may cringe or hold my breath and count to ten during the particularly crazy and busy days, but I will never take for granted the opportunity I've been given to live such a full, rich and meaningful life. As rainbows were the theme of my friends baby shower, let me just say that I've already found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  It comes in the form of 3 smart and loving men I am lucky enough to call my own.