Big Birthday Stuff - Mom's Day Off

It's Luna's 6th Birthday! And here is what that all means for my day.

I took today off. My dad just arrived last night and this morning I dropped off Luna at school, a rarity, and went off to adult. You know you're an adult when you take a personal day from work and you're like, "Oh I can go get the work done on my car!" Nothing like dropping hundreds of dollars on your car on your daughter's 6th birthday but life is life. It just happens.

I also have to take a treat into her class at 2PM, and then pick her up from aftercare around 5 for presents from Grandma. Then tonight is dinner at Red Robin, per her request and dessert at my husband's restaurant, Chocolate Mousse. This is a busy 6 year old day.

I made the mistake of buying a singing balloon...but it is also kind of hilarious. I wanted to be ridiculous and buy her this huge, her-sized my little pony balloon but of course I would have had to drive to the next county to get it. So in comes the singing balloon one. My husband picked up the balloon first in a series of errands and got to hear the balloon sing almost non-stop for the drive. This morning Luna decided she had to punch said balloon to cause the singing. Eventful morning indeed.

When it comes to birthdays, I don't get too crazy. My husband has few memories of anything remotely awesome birthday related. My childhood before 10 was filled with epic parties and themed wrapping paper and cakes and everything. I totally had a Toy Story cake when the first movie came out. But because my husband's birthday experiences were lacking, he always feels like he has to make up for them.

I just like making her feel special. Her grandma bought her a new dress and off she went with her "Birthday Girl" headband to class. She was all about it and I loved just being there to see her shine and walk into school announcing it was her day. 

When I thanked my bosses for the day off yesterday they said, "Of course, you deserve it." I've never had a boss tell me it was okay to take a day off and that I was deserving. I'd always been made to feel guilty or forced to make up for it later. It's making today all the more enjoyable.

So this is my daily blog post and it's not that exciting. Why? Because. Today is about family and celebrating my tiny one. Today is about someone else. Tomorrow I can go back to longer-winded diatribes and all the things. But today, when 6 years ago I had just pushed out a baby, I will relax and enjoy things because dammit, I do deserve it. And so does Luna!

Last Day Of Five - All The Feels

Tomorrow is my daughter's 6th Birthday, thus making today the last day of her being 5. This whole age five thing has been an interesting ride, I will say.

She is fierce and strong-willed, which is a love-hate thing. Some days I am just in awe of her. Others, I get so mad that she's exactly like me.

The other day we had a face-off that was one for the books. I said, "Now go brush your teeth and go pee before we leave please." Her response, "Um, yeah I'm not going to do that unless I can watch Doc McStuffins on your phone in the car for the drive." I saw red. WHAT!?

This kid could be a negotiator one day. She seems to have a plan of attack and well thought out reasoning for everything. I think my favorite part of 5 was watching her become such a little person though. During some very dark and trying times she would actually reach out to comfort me and when she got frustrated with me, she'd call me out, which was both amazing and infuriating all at once. 

She grew into her own and has more independence. It's amazing. Dressing herself (it never matches but I could care less, it's just adorable), bathing herself, feeding the dog, walking him a bit more, putting things away on her own. She thrives.

She's learned to read and compare words and have real discussions with me, more than "She was mean to me today and I'm never talking to her again," or "He called me this or that name!"

She was the most fun for Christmas ever. Totally into it and so engaged for the entire thing. It made the holiday so exciting and fun.

She has manners and knows how to hold her own in social situations. I've loved seeing her independence evolve. I still have those moments where the memories of her as a baby come up on Facebook and my heart hurts but I love this stage more I feel.

I wasn't the biggest fan of infancy honestly and once we got to 4 and 5 I knew how to do things with her instead of feeling like we had to be more carefully involved in certain things. We can go have adventures now!

I'm not that mom that gets teary-eyed often about her growing but I try and let her know I see and appreciate her doing new things and being more "Luna" than before. She's such a trip and of all the things I've done, she's by far my best achievement and reason for life, without a doubt.

So we're entering the next age tomorrow and I'm so ready, or as ready as I can be. I'm thinking this year we do an epic road trip and she starts being my date to some weddings. I think we'll try some better beach days, new parks, maybe some pottery painting and craft classes. We are going to enjoy all of 6.

I'm still not ready for crazy sports schedules, sleepovers and too much time away but I'm ready for this next walk of life with her holding my hand because it's not going to fit in mine the same next year. Let's do this!

Even Into Adulthood I Still Have Anxiety About Getting My Blood Drawn

I remember liking my pediatrician, hating tetanus shots, but not even going to the doctor very often as a kid. As a preacher's kid, I was constantly dragged to nursing homes and hospitals to visit with the sick and cheer them up, and my mom was a bereavement counselor for Hospice that specialized in kids losing their parents to cancer. I always associated doctors with the "sick" or not well. I never had a positive outlook on things medical, I guess. 

After a year with my mom and no doctors appointments ever attended, my dad took me to the doctor a bunch when I moved back in with him when I was 17. I always hated getting my blood drawn because it always hurt. And often I remember sharing my anxiety about it and getting met with annoyed nurses. No one was nice about it. My veins were and always will be hard to find and it always was so uncomfortable.

My dad used to have to bribe me with breakfast at my favorite restaurant to get me to wake up early and go in without complaint. I would have rather been in class and he knew it. It was always a game.

Now, I can handle pain. I can get tattoos like a champ and I pushed a baby out of me without even a Tylenol, completely natural. My mom said I'd never be able to have a natural birth; the joke was on her! But something about the instant bruising and draining feeling and how uncomfortable the whole process makes me, just causes me immense stress and discomfort. You'll never see me on the Big Red bus, just saying.

When I was pregnant they draw your blood a lot. I remember when they had to do a large draw and I just sat there crying in pain. At least the women were nice about it for once. I made my husband buy me a treat after and then he put me down for a nap. 

This far into my adulthood, and we finally have mostly-decent insurance. We're also at that age where we have to make sure we are mostly healthy. Last year I had to have my blood drawn for a normal panel. They made me fast and by the time I got to the diagnostics place I was hungry and thirsty and tired. I told the phlebotomist, "My veins are hard to fine, sorry." She did the normal routine and said, "Oh honey, don't watch me. Don't. Okay?" I bruised instantly and was sore but mostly hungry.

The next blood test they could only draw from my hand and they instantly blew out my vein. It looked like my hand aged to 94 and it was insanely sore. It stayed bruised for 3 weeks.Not my best experience to day. 

This morning, the third time's the charm, but I just had high anxiety. At first the woman seemed okay and then she got a tone with me because, in my nervousness and anxiety, I'd had only coffee but no food or water because I didn't "have to fast," but was too nervous to eat. Coffee was like a pre-game treat for impending trauma.

Two rubber bands on my arm and the lady was slightly irritated even though I disclosed the hard-to-find-veins issue. I told her my dad used to bribe me. She softened, "I can give you a sticker if you want." I looked away when she poked and prodded, winced and it was completely over, no blown out vein. I said, "You're very good at your job, thank you." She told me to be careful with that arm and sent me off to work.

I don't know why I'm such a wuss about this stuff but I just am. Redheads have a higher pain tolerance and I can get shots no problem, but something about the blood drawing just makes me want to run away forever. You'd think with age it would lessen but it seemingly just stays the same. Even an IV at the hospital makes me squeamish.

When we got in the car accident and my head was bleeding I needed 5 staples. It was only the last two I said, "Ouch, okay OW!" Every other pain I could handle. They even had to practically rip an earring out of my cartilage so I could get all the tests to make sure I was okay internally. I wouldn't even have Tylenol after the accident or take my prescribed pain meds, because I wanted to be alert and could push through the discomfort. And in the mediation for the car accident claim, they said my injuries weren't extensive enough to claim excess medical benefits and basically I didn't get hurt "enough." So I got two new tattoos in some strange retaliation move. One of them really hurt!

It's not the pain. I think it's psychological. It has always been harrowing and uncomfortable and stressful. So I psych myself out and make it a big thing. I'm sure there are people on couches in therapy with the same issues, but for me, I just do what I can to avoid the whole thing at all costs. Hopefully this will be my only poke this year, but I maintain that adulting is hard, growing up sucks, and I hate getting my blood drawn. Oh well, at least I got a blog out of it!

I Live For Lazy Sundays

I think most moms would agree with me that life is just way too busy. Any single chance that I have to curl up in bed, watch too much TV and decompress, I'm there.

Sundays are often filled with church, which I do enjoy, but it's a total of 45 minutes to an hour drive and means rushing in the morning to rally the troops. I rush Monday through Saturday, because Saturday we have horseback riding lessons, and I'm the one who gets up first, gets everyone up and going and make everyone stay timely. 

So if we can stay home on a Sunday, I want it filled with "sleeping in," unlimited cups of coffee in bed, Netflix, and a big old breakfast. This just doesn't happen enough. I will admit that if I could force every Sunday to be this way, I would but life happens before my big breakfast needs.

I grew up in the church. My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Most people end up surprised when I tell them that because once I moved in with my mom when I was 16, we never went to church. The only gathering place we hit up with any kind of routine or reverence was the mall.

And then when I moved back with my dad I was an angsty teenager with no desire to feed my soul with anything that wasn't Taco Bell, girly alcoholic beverages, and junk food. And my dad never forced me to go to church. Especially in my formative years.

To make things weirder, I spent a good 10 years in Catholic school because my mom went there and it was one of the best schools in the county so off I went. Catholicism was intense honestly and I don't think I ever really understood all of it, which got me into trouble in religion class. Even thought I got all A's, when I asked too many well-thought questions I was quickly silenced. 

But, back to Sundays. My husband wasn't raised going to church at all. Our first jobs we had in Florida, the only day the place was closed was Sunday, which quickly became our only day to sleep in, do anything together and reboot before another work week.

So lazy Sundays became a natural thing to us. It is, after all, the day of rest. And now with life so busy, it's a day I very much appreciate being slowed down when the time is right. And this morning was one of those perfect opportunities.

It started pouring down rain about 6AM and my daughter crawled into bed with me with a stuffy, yucky nose and said, "Mom do we have to go to church this morning? I don't want to be coughing on the other kids." Although we don't have much of a winter in Florida, this is our one cold week and yesterday was tolerable but cold rain? No thank you. That's why I moved far away from Oregon.

She just wanted to chill and binge watch Netflix and I just wanted to not rush to be anywhere. Eventually I mustered up the energy to hit the store for big breakfast necessities but other than that I've been hiding at home all day.

My daughter made a fortress from a cardboard box. I've done 4 loads of laundry. I've reorganized the pantry, cleaned some cupboards, and I might do party favor prep for my daughter's birthday next week. And the weather is perfect for all the snuggles. 

These days are so few and far between I love to bask in them when I can. Life seemingly never slows down and we're always too busy, so when days like this come around, I say no to "obligatory" things and "we should do this, that" or the next thing, and just try and enjoy each other. I'd call today a success. 

Happy Sunday readers! Back to the grind tomorrow. 

 

Fire Pit Future: Simple Things Are Often Big Achievements

I was totally into apartment life when we first moved to Florida. Rent wasn't too terrible, and unlike in Oregon, there was a pool. Plus the neighbors were okay; we were comfy. I arranged and rearranged set ups and we even had a spare room for visitors. 

When we got the dog apartment life didn't bother me but I wanted a nicer apartment and neighborhood and dog parks. You gotta level up sometimes. So we made an upgrade and off we went to a place with huge bathtubs and walk-in closets right by my husband's job.

As soon as I had a baby though, I wanted a house, and not just because we lived on the second floor. I wanted to paint walls and hang pictures and decorate for real. I wanted to argue about curtains and flooring and have grown up furniture. Even just a little house. With a yard and a fire pit for roasting marshmallows. These were my simple dreams and goals.

The family that I nanny-ed for bought a new house after their daughter was born. It was like 4 blocks from their old one but set up much better for a little one to grow. And I loved their yard. They had a pavement two story patio (a lot of houses in Oregon are like that) that overlooked part of a valley and the middle school their kiddos attended. Their yard wasn't huge but they had bushes around the fence and 3 planter boxes with veggies growing. It was a homey place. Even after we moved and we would crash there, I'd sit on the patio and drink wine out there with my old bosses on an Oregon summer evening and think, "This is my goal."

Of course in Florida it requires a screened in porch and there are no valleys, but still. I wanted an outdoor area to decompress. Our first attempt at buying a house was harrowing. There was buried debt and we basically were told we were undesirable #1, Harry Potter style, when my daughter was 1. I was completely devastated but not unwilling to put in the work to get what I wanted. 

I had two dream towns in Florida and both, of course, were expensive. We finally found a kitschy house in Safety Harbor to rent, which was dream town number one, and I started paying attention. Places sold there fast and in my mind it seemed there were two kinds of houses: Old Florida where you needed to be handy enough to keep them going on your own, and newer construction that I like to refer to as "Pre-Fab Shit Boxes," or cookie cutter architecture. Of course there were also the monstrosities that mirrored those that lined A-1-A in West Palm, but I could never afford a Floridian 6 bath 6 bedroom on the water, nor could I maintain keeping that thing clean. The few in betweens that stood on their own were worth the hunt though. 

I just wanted an old Florida single level house I could clean on my own. It wasn't until after the car accident that when some money came our way we were less unfortunate-looking candidates for a home and were allowed to actually look. Most of the places I liked that my husband went to see were picture perfect but seriously flawed. One was slanted, and the other had the perfect screened in patio and pool, but was in a really rough neighborhood and also had some seriously evident water damage on the floors. The floor tiles were even loose. Another just had so many renovations to make it what we wanted. It was overwhelming. 

When we finally found our house, they had completely redone the inside, it was in a really good, quiet neighborhood and at the top of our price range but perfectly sized. There was a walk in closet from the master bathroom and...a small screened in porch in the back of the house that overlooked the next street over and below us, and all the trees that gave us privacy. This was pretty close to what I'd always wanted.

One of our first house warming gifts was a fire pit. I was so excited. The first chance we had to use it was at the edge of the porch on a cooler Florida fall evening. My husband gave me this huge, huge speech about how you can't put a fire pit on a wooden porch and it was a huge hazard so it would live in the yard. The first night we were out there was so nice, and then the mosquitoes ate us alive. Not my dream.

Then I used it in our stone driveway on new year's eve one night but kept the front window open so I could hear the kid in the house if she woke up. Then I got another speech about smoke in the house and it was the worst idea. It was kind of defeating. Don't get me wrong, I'm not always the sharpest tool in the shed, but I grew up camping and know how to start a fire and all the precautions that come along with it. It wasn't the BEST situation in either case, but we also weren't having huge bonfires. We were just having a little warmth and marshmallows.

After awhile I gave up on my fire pit quest for comfort and the porch became less and less a place of re-charging, and more of just another area on the property. Recently something happened that has been a big win and achievement: the fire pit has been moved into the screened in porch!

After a very calm and sensible discussion with the man of the house, he decided if we're keeping it really low and it's breezy enough and we keep our eye on it, yeah it can be in the screened in porch. This was the stuff of dreams coming true. Less than 24 hours of the fire pit arriving in it's new home and I was lighting it up! I was so excited to just hang out by the fire. And it's been Florida winter lately so it's super perfect for it too.

This might all sound ridiculous but these little wins are what life is all about sometimes. In the span of an evening we gave the porch a little up-cycle action and it took on a whole new vibe. I like being out there again, fire or no fire, and my daughter insisted on a fire-side picnic. We even got the dog to snuggle by the fire with us.

Why is this a big achievement for me? Because it means compromise and something homey. We've had the house for 2 years and it is just now starting to feel like home. We still have projects looming and goals to reach but this is home. And for this winter day in Florida, I'll be home and fireside, staying warm and basking in the small successes that make this house ours. Happy Saturday readers!

Birthday Parties...Worth Every Penny If You Don't Have To Clean Up

My daughter is 6 days away from her 6th birthday and this is my infinite wisdom: I will always find the money for a party, because I don't have the energy to host 20 kids in my house or to clean up after it all. Paying for a party is worth every penny, in my humble opinion. 

My friends hosted Luna's 1st Birthday, I miss them all dearly as life has torn us away from each other, but they gave her a perfect Hungry Caterpillar 1st Birthday. We sang to my daughter, and she cried. She also did not like getting messy with the cake. Overall though, complete success. 

Luna's 2nd Birthday had my sister and brother in law fly down here to take her on her first Disney adventure. I was most excited to have the perfect excuse to go to Disney. Luna just wanted to climb on everything. She could care less about the rides. Birthday number 3 had this same theme. We partied at Disney and she had an amazing time.

Birthday number 4 we took my mom to Disney and stayed at an epic resort, but it was stressful. We got rained out our last day and went to the theater to see Moana. That was my favorite part, getting to see Moana.

But 5? The big 5 was the first, real party! Not only did one of our best friends fly in for her actual birthday so the day of her actual birthday she was spoiled rotten, but she had a Doc Mcstuffins themed Bouncy House Birthday Party. I get all of my birthday ideas from a mom who's son is a year older than my daughter and she picks the best places to have parties that aren't over the top. She gave this one a good review so, I followed her lead. So we went to the bouncy house place and they all had a blast. And I didn't have to clean up anything. They even served all the food.

Age 6 happens next week, and it comes with all new demands. It's a My Little Pony birthday at The Bowling Alley. She got to choose 10 kids to invite. On her actual birthday is dinner out, a big event in our household as I'm usually too cheap to go to most restaurants. And then she's been very specific on gifts.

Parties can be stressful. My husband and I have suffered a couple of those class birthday parties where you invite the entire class and we agreed, "Nope, not for us." My mom had me do those types of things and for a couple years, the kids that were most mean to me showed up and faked being nice for most of the party, but then complained at school on Monday about everything the party wasn't. I'm not doing that whole charade, not me. I also refuse to fake being any specific type of mom in public. I'm just me, take it or leave it. The party is about the kid anyway.

For the invite list we insisted it consist of kids that she sees and enjoys on a regular basis, not just school friends. We also trimmed it this year so as not to break the bank. A lot of the list includes parents I know well enough to be able to just enjoy the fun of watching these kids play.

Birthday parties can be so stressful and they shouldn't be. You're celebrating a little person. And we've been to all different kinds of parties, parks, aquariums, at people's homes, at play zones too, and every party is different. I've found that the ones that aren't at some kind of play place or party zone, are often chaotic and exhausting, but you just have to show up and go with the flow.

There's one tradition for parties that I'm not a fan of, and we don't participate in: the group gift opening. What kids want to watch their friend get all the toys? It's not a baby shower with cutesy stuff, it's a bunch of toys from other kids. Every time I've been to a party where we watch the gifts open, I hear like 5 kids screaming, "I have that one too!" Or, "I want one of those! Why can't I have one?" So we collect the presents, thank everyone, pass out the goody bags, and off we go. We let her rip everything to shreds at home and usually send pictures to the parents to show them what a hit it was.

For me, every penny spent where I just show up with a cake and call it a day is worth it. No clean up, no stress. I love it! Last year the worst part was putting together the party bags but I had reinforcements. This year, it's just waiting for the RSVPs to roll in. It's hard to get real head counts because life is so unpredictable with kiddos. 

For those moms that host these adventures in your homes, and make everything, more power to you! You deserve a medal! I don't have the mental capacity to pull that off but I greatly admire anyone who does. I always hope we can just escape to Disney for some family time, but that's just me. Maybe I'll take myself to Disney for my own birthday!

Yelling At Your Children: Why Do They Only Hear Certain Decibels?

For being such a short person, I'm freakishly loud. Being loud is natural to me. It's like I've had to make up for my legitimate shortcomings so I'm just boisterous and turned up volume-wise. This is very much like Monica on Friends, by the way; the similarities are uncanny.

However, when I yell, I YELL. It all started with the dog. You gotta blame the dog! Dogs are like training for kids only they don't talk back as much, or so we thought when we got our pug. He was and is a great dog for the most part but when I've yelled, I've yelled very loudly. As someone already loud, just imagine my volume when I need to be...louder. I can reach different cities I bet!

I don't think the real kid-yelling phase started until Luna was about 2, and mostly it was out of "Be careful" and not so much in scolding. The car accident knocked me down a peg or two in terms of perspective on what is yell-worthy, but age 5 has tested everything. 

You know how when kids need your attention, they say "Mom, mom, mom," continuously for an infinite time? It doesn't matter if you're in the bathroom, on the phone, concentrating on something, reading or literally speaking to someone else standing in front of them, they must have your immediate attention. As moms we can drown it out to a point but then they raise their voices and at some point, and then, personally, I crack and the mom loud comes out! Like a mom mega-phone.

My daughter is too much like me and when the TV is on, nothing else is happening. I'm just in the zone when I'm into a show, and so is she if My Little Pony is on. Then the attention-getting voice goes from its normal tone, to louder than said TV program and finally to, "YOU NEED TO HEAR ME NOW BEFORE I TOSS THE TV IN THE TRASH."

And I swear they only hear you when you're so loud you feel like you're screaming in a horror movie and then they get upset that you're loud. It's such a weird cycle. Now, I don't know about any other moms, but I always immediately have this gut check of "Aw man now I've completely wrecked her for life and need to start saving for therapy because I yelled too much!," so then I go apologize.

In the past 2 years I've actually started to be brutally honest with my daughter when it comes to life things. "Mommy was mad because daddy hurt her feelings and then she was just sad for the day." "Mommy needs to not watch Daniel Tiger for another hour but have a little time in her room." "Mommy is hungry and cranky and done with today!"

She seems to respond better to this than any time I mimic her tantrums whether to actually mock her or because I myself am at that mental breaking point. Sometimes the teasing is a distraction she needs and loves. Sometimes she just gets mad I'm teasing her. We fight a lot, we're mom and daughter.

You read all these parenting books and hear all these ideas from other parents about how yelling is harmful and such, but then you just reach your boiling point and it's the only trick you have left. I am mindful about it, but sometimes as moms, you gotta just yell! 

I don't remember being yelled at unless I was seriously in trouble, but I remember fearing the "yell" to the point where I would tread lightly. My daughter doesn't seem to do this. She just kind of physically cowers when the loud comes out and I always remind her that I don't yell to scare her, I yell to grab her attention like I would if she were far away.

One thing that yelling does is create that fear, which I struggle with. I don't want my kid to be afraid of me in the sense that I'm an enemy or "Momster." I want that respect kind of fear like, "Don't mess with mom!" I think we all do. As women, sometimes I feel that we just want that power of, "I'm super nice until you cross me, and then fear my wrath!" 

Think of all the memes that portray this for "Resting Bitch Face" and the "Mom stare" for when you need your kid to know he or she is in trouble but you're out in public trying not to create a scene. It's all so ridiculous, but it's what we do.

Yelling is even ridiculous if you think about it, but it's what we do. My daughter yells at me too. In that way, we have the perfect relationship. I'd sit here and devise a resolution to not yell, but in most circumstances it's almost like a reflex; I barely realize until my voice is getting hoarse. Other times I can scale it back and I do. 

I truly believe that, like dogs, sometimes your children can only hear and respond to certain decibels and as moms we have a natural talent for hitting said decibels to command attention. Most other moms that are "yellers" like me, have the same sentiment of "Why do I HAVE to yell!??" But it seems to just be some kind of primal and natural thing. 

And, as someone who is just naturally loud, being told to take it down just provokes me to want to be louder, much like my child being told to use her "inside voice." What can I say? We're a work in progress. After all is said and done at least we were heard though!

Why Netflix Is A Friend In Depressed And Anxious Times, In My Humble Opinion

I'm going to level with my readers today. My personal life is super rocky right now. I very much have to live one day at a time but today for my one day, which started around 1:30AM for me and continued to snowball into turmoil, has me feeling broken and inferior. Rather than use this as an outlet for complaints, I'm going to explore some of my coping mechanisms and make my plan of attack.

I once read something from HelloGiggles online about The Office being used as a tool for calming anxiety and depression. Something about revisiting those episodes and having them as a comfort zone allow viewers to self care in the form of binge-watching. I could totally relate. I often lose myself in a series instead of getting too caught up in my head.

I feel like Netflix has such an amazing variety that turning to some entertainment when I'm my most sad or hopeless feeling, can always make me feel better. I liken it to when you're young and you have "sick movies," being movies you ALWAYS watch when you're home sick from school. The Princess Bride, Hook and Father of the Bride were at the top of my list. 

When I'm just feeling overwhelmed and done, I watch The Office, Friends, Seinfeld, Parks and Rec, or Malcolm in the Middle. They are short, hilarious and never get old (or so I think). When I need a good cry I watch Parenthood, if I need some dark life stuff I go with Breaking Bad, Dexter, or maybe even Mad Men. And then there are endless movies for any mood.

I'm that person who rarely watches something when it's all the rage...rarely. As soon as it fades from popularity I'll discover it and be like "Oh, this is what everyone was talking about!" My current obsession? Stranger Things. Yes, it is amazing. And exactly what I need tonight when I'm drowning my sorrows in tea before bed.

For me, escaping into those shows where you feel like you know the characters, helps distract from the stress, misery, and weight of life at it's darkest times. So instead of obsessing about an argument or messing up at work, I start watching Pam and Jim fall in love on the Office or Monica and Chandler hide their relationship on Friends, or Ron Swanson teach April his tricks on Parks and Rec. Then those life moments that feel like a kick when you're already down, become relate-able and funny. 

Ross gets a work suspension for having a meltdown? Joey loses his insurance and gets a hernia? Jim transfers because being around Pam was too hard? These are all moments we can share in. I've wanted to scream at my boss the way Ross did and freak out about a sandwich when you feel your life falling apart. Not having insurance and needing something done made me want to stay in pain too! And we never want to work around people who hurt us!

I know many people can get all of this from books, but I've always been a TV kinda girl. I watched Friends with my dad every week. We had routines and bonding time over the TV and when my mom left, my dad decided we didn't need to eat at the dining room table anymore, we could watch the Simpsons together and have homemade sweet and spicy chicken together. These were the moments that got us away from the sad moments of it being "just us two," and let us laugh again.

I've read many things that actually support my theory that Netflix can be your greatest ally when you're feeling so very bad about life stuff or when you're overly anxious. This isn't to say to ignore everything, call in sick and watch 4 days worth of series, this is just saying that if you can find something to look forward to at the end of your day where you wind down and maybe check in with a friend about characters and silly plot lines, go do it!

After I get a good night's sleep I should be better put together and far more eloquent tomorrow but you know where I'll be tonight, just getting more into Stranger Things to beat the blues. Text me if you need a little pick me up!

Mom Bods: We Carry More Weight In More Ways Than One

This morning I did the unthinkable. I did something that bothered me to every fiber of my being. Something that I haven't done in over six years. I got on the scale to see what I weighed. Why did I cave into doing something I loathe in this way? Well, yesterday I went to my annual lady check up on a cold Florida morning and they made me get on their scale, and completely clothed, mind you. After obsessively working out with no time to eat too much, of course I expected to drop 20 pounds immediately because I deserved it dammit! Alas, I weighed maybe a pound or two less than last year, which was super disappointing.

So, I tossed and turned, hit the gym this morning and decided, "I can't actually weigh that much because I had on boots and serious layers and I started 2018 very puffy and uncomfortable. I refuse to believe I've made no progress." So I did it and as I suspected, 6 pounds less with no layers and boots. Score! And I looked at that number and realized, I was a good 40 pounds lighter than when I had Luna, but 24 pounds heavier than my skinniest. The best part? Those numbers didn't defeat me. 

Exactly 10 years ago when I was in Oregon, finishing my last semester at University of Oregon (Go Ducks) and finishing my depression and anxiety treatment, fitness was everything to me. In just 2 months in the future, I'd be engaged and then married the day after I graduated college. 

I was friends with a trainer that worked at the U of O fitness complex so between her and weight watchers I ended up trimming down to the absolute most fit I've ever been. I worked really hard because when you're a college student working only part time, you have all the time in the world to eat, but then again to work out also. When I actually looked at weight watchers and saw how many points were assigned to everything, I wanted to become anorexic or bulimic. Luckily I went through way too many years of orthodontia to ruin my teeth so anorexia became way more appealing than pigging out. Who was I kidding though, I didn't have that discipline and I was in love with food. 

I replaced binge-eating and emotional snacking with working out. My last semester at U of O I actually won the Nike Fit Female of the month and was up to 3 workouts some days. When I got married, I was legitimately thin. I was so terrified to put it back on because I LOVE FOOD and also wine and amazing cocktails. I maintained really well our first 2 years in Florida because it is mandatory you have a "beach body." With age and stress, I allowed myself a little more wiggle room until pregnancy and then after a really great first 4 months of growing a person, I just went for it. All I wanted was steak, potatoes, Twizzlers and Chik Fil A and also, if you can't eat like a pig when you're pregnant, when can you?

I got on the scale after Luna was born and there may have been tears over the post baby belly. It took me a year of motherhood until I allowed myself to take much time for me and when I hit boot camp, it was so hard. The first 90 days were the most brutal but I did it. I got down to my thick comfy size after a year. After two years I was in my pre-baby size but on the top of that range too. This past year was about stress and anxiety though.

We'd had a wedding to attend last summer that would be filled with beautiful people and I wanted to be one of  them. I had made grand designs to start in March only to have them completely derailed and halted. Not being able to work out my normal routine and being left with no other options sank me into a pretty bad depression. What helped? Bread and ice cream. Not together, just as my comfort cheats.

Finally I'd had enough. My mom, who has given me enough body issues to sustain multiple lifetimes, was of course on board to watch Luna so I could go workout during the weeknights so I could "start to feel better and fit into real clothes again," as she so lovingly describes my journey and struggle. So, I got a gym membership and went back to full time boot camp. Before I knew it I was working out twice a day again and every time I got angry or sad or anxious, I took it out in spin or on the treadmill. 

I stopped getting on the scale when I started Boot Camp because when I felt better, I noticed my sleep getting more sound and my clothes fitting differently so that was all I needed. I also had a tribe of people who supported me and told me I was looking healthier, happier and different. Working at the car dealership at the time also helped because I was surrounded by a bunch of 45+ old married dudes who loved to make inappropriately strange compliments from time to time; always a nice ego boost.

But I stayed away from that scale. Why? Because when I was younger with way more free time, all I had was time to obsess about food and all the rationalizations of "If I want that I have to work out more to earn it." In my old age I just decided, "Oh I'm having that cake, but just one small piece, not 3 because someone pissed me off today. Someone will piss me off every day, take it out on the elliptical. That's how you have your cake and eat it too mama!" Yes, I literally pep talk myself often. 

Even after the car accident, my stomach, an already super self-conscious area for me because my mom used to pat it and promise I'd "grow out of the baby fat and then be pretty and thin," got so smashed and bruised from the seat belt and impact that today there are little scar type crumples and bumps that I despise. It was hard for me to get really back into working out because I was so sore and swollen and awkward for a couple months. So my patience with my body has since evolved.

With all of the mental stuff that came with that, I just didn't take care of myself. So last year I took it back. Now due to adulting, the gym membership expires next week, however I have multiple back up plans to keep me healthy, but this morning was about my needing that validation that it was paying off. I have a few people who's opinion of my physical appearance I trust undoubtedly past the whole "Uh huh, yeah that matches" type thing, but I think I still needed a little affirmation for myself.

I don't intend to get obsessive about the numbers. I will admit I was a little disappointed, yes, but having the numbers be more already lost than more I need to lose was positive. And I've found that we all have these things about us, these strengths and weaknesses about our own personal imagery. And on these journeys, maybe we post too much about it on Instagram, but these routines for health we've established can sometimes be our saving grace. For me, the gym is a place where nothing else matters but my time to kick butt, everything else can slow down for a minute.

As moms we all carry weight so differently, which is why I hate the scale. I weigh the same as women 2 feet taller than me but it's all in my stomach and thighs, and maybe they carry it in their waist or bust. You never know. And us moms have it worse than you single ladies because our bodies went through uncontrollable changes. Sure we can try to keep everything together but pregnancy and childbirth change our figures forever! My hips can tell you that personally, and my boobs too! I didn't even have boobs before baby! And they still haven't even left me!

Already as moms we feel that pressure to be fit and look good even on the days we feel like a tired old handbag ready to be thrown in the Goodwill pile. I remember this weird feeling after I had Luna where I had to "dress like a mom." What did that even mean? I mean I had shirts with weird band logos and swear words. I guess I shouldn't show up to the park in those but did I need an Ann Taylor credit card? How does one dress like a mom? I still don't know.

We all have our own style and ways for ever facet of motherhood, especially how we carry our physical and emotional weight. Mom Bods carry it all, both figuratively and physically, so be gentle on each other, and be gentle on ourselves. It's progress over perfection and the last cliche of today is, the only workout you regret, is the one you didn't do! You got this mamas! WE got this! See you in the gym!

A Day Off Is Never Really A Day Off In The World of Parenthood

It took me a good 6 years to find a job where I have all federal and bank type holidays off and therefore, becomes a family day off. Family days off are either filled with extra curricular activities and parties or chores. Sometimes, all of the above.

No longer having to scramble for childcare, this year we are all home, so naturally I packed my entire morning with appointments and plans. So this morning was boot camp at 5:15AM, Doctor's appointment at 7:30AM, Vet at 9AM. I can conquer all. I was late for the doctor and early for the vet, by the way.

My husband always gives me a hard time for packing our days with all of the things because I cannot relax. It's seriously difficult for me to do "nothing," although as a mother I firmly feel like, "nothing" doesn't even exist. And in my defense, we pack everything into these days, because weekends are too short! There just isn't enough time for all the things!

I'm even taking a day off because my dad is coming to visit and it's my daughter's birthday in a couple weeks and I thought..."I can take my car in that day without it wrecking everything!" This is adulting at it's finest.

Days off don't really exist in the world of parenthood, because when your children are otherwise occupied, you just do all the things that are more difficult to accomplish when they're around. I feel like I can work so much faster, and more efficiently with no little person talking at me all day. It's the sad truth. 

And now as that "Tidying Up" special on Netflix runs rampant, we have even more subconscious "to do's" on our plate. I seriously had two moms I was trying to plan things with and they were working on getting rid of things in the house instead of enjoying the day off by having the little ones play and just catching up. Of course then I was like, "I guess we should reorganize the kitchen today then."

I used to have jobs where if I took time out of my workday for appointments and other adult things, I'd lose hours and therefore money, or have to stay later and make up for it. Now I don't have that obstacle and it makes a world of difference. Not only can I accomplish things on a long lunch or just by leaving early for the day, but I try to leave the family days off like today, for actual family fun. 

Everything is so scheduled, planned out, and timed, I long for days of no rushing with late breakfasts and endless cartoons. I love last minute play dates with neighborhood friends or an impromptu family adventure. I miss Disney days for that reason, often.

But carving out time to just "veg" is harder than planning the things, I feel. At least it is for me. I always feel pressure to entertain my little one by having friends over or taking her somewhere to expel some energy, but lately I've worked really hard on letting her know, it's super okay to just have a "TV" day. During the week we are go, go, go, schedule, schedule, routine, routine so letting her hang and watch some Goldie and Bear or My Little Pony is no different than my self care of binge-watching The Office. 

I also just love everyone being in the house, even if we are all doing our own thing. Like Luna is watching TV and also decorating the house for some Pony-related task while my husband watches Netflix and has lunch and I'm blogging away at the dining room table as my dog whines for no reason. I just like knowing we're all home.

The times when I've felt the most mentally heavy are those when we are all going different directions. Luna and I will be at play date after play date and party after party with the husband working too much and missing out on everything. We barely see each other and it makes things kinda crappy and depressing. It makes me feel like weekends are just a theory and days off are a mystical unicorn that may or may not be real, it remains to be seen. 

Balancing it all is rough. My husband dreams of days where we do nothing and I dream of days where we do everything. Compromise is essential and difficult. My daughter can get bored and stir crazy but I also have to make her just chill because she sleeps, eats and behaves better when she can self care for her almost 6 year old self. Sound familiar? Yeah she is my mini me; we both love to be social but hit our walls when we need self care.

So maybe we don't have the same kinds of days off as we did in our twenties, but we still have time away from the grind. Finding how to fit it all in but also balance will be a constant struggle but I'm definitely up for the challenge. For days like today, I got the obligatory stuff done before anyone was really up and moving around, now we can all just play and maybe throw in a little productivity. 

And for those of you "Tidying Up" everything, more power to you! If you're anything like me, a little productivity makes me feel less "off" than a day off with nothing done. And feel free to post your go to activities and self care routines too! 

"It's Really Liberating Saying 'No' To Sh*t You Hate," And Other Discomforts

I'm sitting on my newly revamped porch area with my pug all bundled up on a windy winter Florida day while my little one is at a neighbor's. And before I do all the obligatory cleaning I decided to put on some vinyls, make some lavender tea and blog it up.

When I'm in times of deepest turmoil, I always revisit a series of some kind that also seems to be dramatic and rife with human pain and emotion. Or I join the hype of a show that was the coolest 5 years ago and finally understand what people are talking about. Last year I watched the HBO gem "Girls." While my mom talks about her distaste for Lena Dunham, I actually loved watching that series and quickly took to her writing and her character.

Not only was she a middle-sized, big mouthed writer, much like myself, but she really had to go through some crazy growth within that show and I liked watching the journey. To this day one of my favorite quotes she says is, "Ya know it's really liberating saying "No" to shit you hate so I'll just be over here, livin' my truth." I've recently started embracing the whole, "saying no to shit you hate," stuff and she has a point.

I feel like we are constantly under pressure to do more so we feel so very obligated to do so on a regular basis. So, we say yes to things that are inconvenient or challenging. Now, to be clear, saying yes to things that get you out of your comfort zone and into finding new friends is something I advocate, but being pushed into doing things you dislike or that make you stressed, miserable and dreading the situation, I don't see the point of that. So I've stopped that whole charade as much as I possibly can. 

This isn't to say I don't show up for my kid, either. Of course I go to the birthday parties I don't really want to, the school events that makes me roll my eyes, and all of those type of things but when you're asking me to do something I really have a distaste for I think you know your answer. 

I hit a wall last year mentally and opened my eyes to something important about myself; there's only so much controlled chaos I can handle. I stress out about planning things or being at the mercy of others plans. It's not a simple thing for me. With the right notice, I can properly psych myself up for certain events but when you put all of your energy into setting up for something, based on someone else's request and the idea that you were "needed" only to have then become completely unnecessary it can make you feel really frustrated. 

When I was already dealing with personal chaos, putting myself into social chaos just became too much. So unless I could accept the variables of how an event could go, I started to say no. And it was indeed personally liberating.

There are millions of memes going around about toxic this, toxic that and self care. I'm a quote hoarder, meaning I hoard quotes and sayings on my Pinterest boards non stop for inspiration or because they hit me in some way that I feel they are worth holding onto. I started realizing that not only was it okay to say no from time to time; it was very necessary. 

And it's not even all about stuff I hate but cultivating what helped me grow. When I'm in a bad place mentally I find the people who I can vent to and who will complain with me as cheerleaders, which can feel supportive but also keep me in a darker zone. When I'm focusing on growth and positive change, I find the people who are constructively there for support and don't get bogged down with the "have nots," but instead with the "haves." Concentrating on what we don't have instead of appreciating what we do, is a downward spiral in my opinion and personal experience.

As mentioned many times before, when you're coming off of years of "rough terrain" in life and finally seeing potholes filled and traffic cleared with more green lights ahead, you can see things more clearly, or so I feel I can at least. So I'm able to reflect on the progress and how far I've come.

It's hard to feel like you're "letting down" people when you say no, but then there is a feeling of redemption in it too. I used to just go do all the things whether I could really afford them or not and then lose sleep because I overspent or, now I have to cut back and redo this all for one night out. And this was because "Well they invited me and it's rude to say no." Or I'd decide all the ways I might deserve the night out as a justification. It just amplified my anxieties. 

It took me a long, hard year. I had to take a huge step back from and identify the triggers. And I learned to carry less and just shoulder what I could. So when I couldn't afford it, I said so. I said "nope, I can't, sorry," and it felt weirdly awesome. If it was something I knew would make me mentally or socially uncomfortable, I said "no," but if it was something new and exciting or a chance to better get to know people, I jumped in.

There's a fine line. It's different for everyone. I'm not saying you have to say no to shit you hate. Some people hate working out but we definitely all need it for our health in some way, shape or form. I'm saying, let's not do the things that take away from your "okayness." When I was already not okay and I kept putting myself out there for event and party and gathering and everything without taking a single moment to reboot, I was very much not okay. So I had to find my boundaries.

It's not been easy, but I found ways to make it work for me and I write this to encourage any reader to do the same. Maybe this isn't a "mom" post technically but instead is just a general shout out to those feeling wobbly. Feeling wobbly sucks because it's hard. You just want to get your bearings. But finding your footing is liberating. And finding your own personal triumphs of "yes" and "no" can be freeing. 

So for this Sunday, I said no to some stuff, and I'm saying yes to anyone who wants to discuss this more. You may comment and email me or anything. You can always say no though, hence the post.

"It's Not Even Worth It To Take Time For Myself" - Another Mom and Me Too

I literally was having an Instagram Messenger conversation with another mom and we were talking about a meme she posted about being too tired to do things and commiserating with one another. I've written about this subject on multiple occasions, but it bears further discussion in my opinion.

I usually feel like, not only is it frowned upon, but it's not even worth it to take time for myself. It has been my personal experience that whenever I indulge in some "Treat Yo Self" time, I come home to something worse than when I left. If I go get a massage, which happens once a year at best, I'll come home to some crazy mess. If I get a manicure or pedicure, hubby gets a migraine and I'm stressed about finishing the cleaning he couldn't. Sometimes I think it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I suck at relaxing in general. I could most likely easily be diagnosed with ADD but I just feel like there is always something I need to be getting done. And I always have a million little projects on the Pinterest board of my mind! So when I get "me time," I either immediately have some weird form of "buyers" remorse or feel like I pay for it in other ways later.

For me, "me time" usually involves a workout because that isn't selfish it's self care, right? But now we see all these other self care methods like, face masks, manicures, pedicures and of course the Parks and Recreation spearheaded movement of "Treat Yo Self" which is just an excuse to buy a bunch of stuff you want for yourself. Man, I wish I could pull that off without feeling so badly about it right after.

In the grander scheme I do genuinely feel like taking time for myself isn't worth it. I don't know what it's like to be bored anymore and any time for just me to indulge in any "me" ways could be much better spent cleaning something or making some kind of progress of some kind. I often fantasize about what I would do with a day off with no plans. My husband immediately taunts me that it could never happen for me so it's an impossible dream. I over-plan and schedule everything.

Sometimes I wonder if there were no alarms and no responsibilities or obligations for a whole weekend, just how long I could sleep. And I think as moms we are tired because we constantly fear it's not worth taking time for ourselves, so we just keep running and running. We stay up late to watch too much TV, to eat what sugar and treats our kids can't have, and to do things without interruption. We get up early to beat the kids to stuff so we can get a head start on productivity. And we constantly rearrange everything to make sure everyone and everything else comes before we do. 

It can feel insanely thankless at times. You think of all these things you do and then people ask, "How do you do it all?" And the answer is you don't. We are our worst critics and we always feel we fall short. For instance, I have a clean house, a good job, and we finally have affordable health, dental and vision insurance and aren't up to our ears in debt. But I'm not involved in Luna's school like at all, and also, her one extra-curricular activity is on Saturday mornings and that's it. 

So again, it's not even worth taking any more time for myself than the gym because we have so much else going on. We do socially childless things maybe twice a month and I even try to keep us home as much as possible for chill and reboot time. 

I will admit during a crappy personal time I went through a selfish phase and was out too much and just on my own agenda and everything in my home life suffered, and I did too. But still, it pains me that most mothers feel this way. They feel like taking time for themselves just makes everything else worse and if they do they really won't be able to keep up or make up for it. I think the worst part of those feelings is, they are partially true.

We will never gain the lost time back. If we take a night to binge-watch Netflix and miss a sporting tournament or activity, we never get it back and we miss kid moments. If we don't wake up at 5AM and workout, we never get that workout back. In some senses, the whole "there's always tomorrow" thing is a bunch of crap that we can't even afford to buy into because, tomorrow will open a whole new kind of busy!

There will be more chores tomorrow, more mess, more dishes and more stress when we could just do it today. My husband gives me such a hard time about not leaving things until the morning. I always say I can sleep better just knowing it's done, which is true. I hate dreading a chore or list of things to get done, when I could have made some progress or done what I could the night before. It's a "blurse," a blessing and a curse.

My thoughts are this: let's strive to find even 5 minutes to ourselves for anything. Five minutes alone with a cup of coffee, a book, a couple songs or a walk! We can build from there and maybe learn how to give ourselves a little more time, and then feel it's worth it! Moms feel plenty of "unworthyness" feelings from all over, but some time for ourselves is not only okay but, we DESERVE IT. 

I won't wax on about it being "necessary," but I will speak from experience that it is helpful. A few minutes that are my own can completely turn around my mood and in turn, my entire day. So figure out ways to "Treat Yo Self," for just you, and no one else. Mine is a cup of fancy coffee on my way to work from my favorite coffee shop and then walking the dog alone a couple times a week. Feel free to post yours and share your self care methods. I want to know you're taking time for yourself because you're worth it. It's worth it. We are all worth it! Make that your mantra!

Working Out: It's In The Name That You "Work"

Luna has one neighborhood friend and they live a block away, which I love because there's no waiting for someone to get home to play drama. It just so happens I ran into my neighbor at the gym so we have that now too. Well, actually I had to cancel my membership so probably not but she said happily, "Now I know who I can work out with!" 

Uh, not so much. Yeah I'm an antisocial workout person in terms of, when I go to workout, I'm on a mission so I'm not there to chat. If you want to chat, I'll meet you at a coffee shop no problem, but I don't do the "workout and hangout." I can't multitask that way. I can't count my reps and have a discussion about anything else with you. 

When I was younger my mom had a few words to describe my physical appearance and the one that has always stuck with me is "round." I've always been at the top of my weight range for my height. I blame this on growing up in the land of ShooFly Pie, TastyKakes, Pen Supreme Iced Tea and all things Pennsylvania Dutch, but also, my mom was a junk foodie and I ate all the things at friends houses I could never have too.

When I was in like 7th grade I did my first and only season of Basketball. I slimmed down a bit. When I was in high school, I played tennis. This was after my mom and dad had split up so left under my dad's dietary rules, I got skinny. It was even unbeknownst to me that I became fit until I saw some homecoming pictures from one year to the next. I learned quickly that I can eat stuff, but I also have to work out a lot to burn it off. 

As soon as I spent one year with my mom I gained a bunch back because I was eating out all the time, I wasn't playing any sports and my friend worked at Baskin Robbins. That's when I really saw the difference. When I got shipped back to live with my Dad I got back into the gym. This is where the obsession began. I had taken a few spin classes here and there but I loved group fitness like step class, weight training and yoga. Anything where I could go and be told what to do and earn some yummy food later, I was in. But I never needed a friend to go with me; I was always most comfortable solo.

I found my first nanny job because of a YMCA kickboxing class. Little known fact, I was almost a step instructor in my early 20s but too many of my friends got me away from that being a feasible idea. By the time 21 hit and it was all about drinking your calories and hangover food I had gotten "round" again. During a really bad time for me mentally and personally as I entered into therapy, part of my depression and anxiety management was working out and maintaining routines.

I was already on a strict schedule when I got married and I'm happy to say, I was as skinny and healthy as I ever was for our wedding. I was able to maintain about a 10 pound range of that and worked out consistently from then on, until I became pregnant. Not only did movement the first 3 months just make me want to puke in general, but all I wanted to do was sleep. Then I ate all the things for my last two trimesters and gained way too much.

When my daughter was a year old I went back to it and found my faithful favorite, a local Boot Camp, which has since helped me lose about 40 pounds, on top of toning and strengthening. This was not easy. The first 6 months were brutal. Then my trainer challenged me to try something called The Savage Race. The first one nearly killed me and I couldn't even jog the whole thing. But then I challenged myself to two more, and the second of 3 was my most successful. To train for this I did 2 hours of boot camp, not just one, and ran a couple miles on off days. It worked.

I don't know if I'll ever quite be as skinny as the wedding days me, but now I'm at least in my pre-baby pants size range. Now knowing this, here is what you must understand, I work out with a group often, I'll enter a race with people but I'm running for me and me alone. I have my own goals and you don't have to keep up with me, nor I you because I'm in it for my own gain, not to socialize. I seriously don't know how people can run and talk. I need music or working out is pointless. And you can bet I have an epic workout playlist!

It's not that I can't go to the gym with people, but don't expect me to chit chat and socialize when I'm trying to kick my own ass. So when people ask me to run, my headphones are in and I'm in my own place. It's me, the music, the challenge. So I get a little socially awkward and put off when people want to be gym buddies and I seriously only offer to go to the gym with someone if they are wanting to commit to kicking some butt. And even then, I don't train "with them," I'm just there for moral support. Odds are I will be on the other side of the gym unless we take a spin or yoga class together.

I feel like working out is meant to be hard work, so why have anything in your way. We get in our own way enough so why have unnecessary exterior distractions. Maybe that's just my strange introverted extroverted ways but that's what works for me.

For me, working out is my most selfish and sacred "me time." It makes me feel better, sleep better and be a nicer human. I have no problem getting up at 4:45AM and going to work out if it makes my entire day easier. I never regret a workout I completed, just the ones I didn't. 

My boot camp buddies and I all keep tabs on each other. We check in and make sure we're missing class for life reasons instead of slacking. We invite each other to try other new things. We push each other. I always fell behind the group and was last across the finish line for Savage Race but my boot campers were always waiting, cheering me on. That's why I'm 5 years strong and would never quit going.

I've made a lot of friends through boot camp, whom I've run races with but not with, if that makes any sense. We see each other there and give hi-fives and maybe encourage each other with a little push but all do our own thing. I very much value the separate togetherness. Even when my husband used to hit the gym with me, he'd be weight training and I'd be in yoga. We all have our own workout routines that work for us.

So sure, I can take one for the team and go work out with some one from time to time, but mostly you'll see me fiercely focused, especially when on the treadmill lip-syncing "Girls" by Beyonce or "Woman" by Kesha. Yeah I tend to rock out when I workout and make sure no one gets the idea to talk to me when I'm in the zone! I'll be over here putting the "work" in "workout."

Musical Mom Moments

I'm that weird breed of person that music can legitimately alter my entire day and mood. I will listen to the same song on repeat for like an hour if I think it's awesome and it speaks to me. I spent hours of my childhood reading CD inserts, learning lyrics or just listening to the albums over and over to memorize everything. I can now remember those lyrics perfectly, the artist that sang them, and have a good idea of when they came out, but usually can't remember why I just walked into that room. Because motherhood and adulting rock.

I've been making my daughter listen to music since she was conceived and, very much like my parents, have ingrained in her a sense of epic eclectic taste. Another perk that I have, that my parents never did, was due to my 90's childhood, I know just about every pertinent Disney song by heart and often learn all the new ones too. When Moana came out I put that on Spotify immediately and tortured my daughter with "You're Welcome," on a regular basis. We still fight about me singing.

Lately she asks to listen to just "radio." Last week I was singing every 80's song and she was like, "Why do you know all of these? Seriously, Mom?" Why? Because the songs are epic and I am awesome. To me, music is life. 

Ironically, I never successfully played an instrument to where I actually learned it. Flute was like 4th grade maybe? Piano lessons 6th grade. What did I do? Voice lessons. Consistently. And then choir in high school. Sadly, I was never in a school-produced musical because the only year I tried out, I did a dual audition with a girl from my grade school that I had won out all previous solos to, and I was not picked for the musical because she was in the one last year and I was not. Politics man. P.S. she was not better than me, sorry not sorry.

Okay, back to the music. So music gets me through everything so I've passed that onto my daughter for sure. When Spotify came out, what everyone else hates that I thrive on is, you make your own playlists. As dumb as this may sound, I always wanted to be the person that collaborated on soundtracks in Hollywood. I always loved to collect movie soundtracks and used to think "Oh no, I would have put that song!," because I LOVE making playlists.

When I first started Boot Camp our trainer used to have this challenge of "Make a playlist and we'll alternate it in weekly." Challenge accepted. Even one of the grumpy older guys always asked for mine. Why? Because I rock, pun intended.

My daughter learned quickly that not only did I make her a Disney and Movie soundtrack playlist, but she could ask me to add things to it or remove them. Car rides became an adventure. There are certain songs I could never get sick of, and that even applies to Disney songs, but the "Life is a Highway" cover from the Cars soundtrack? Yeah I don't have to listen to that one maybe ever again.

What's funny is that the music my parents "tortured" me with is now what I listen to in random times of discontent. In 2018 I avidly rocked some Dire Straits, which my dad had on often through my parents divorce. It oddly hit me in a completely new way while going through a really crappy place personally and I had one of those, "Oohhhh,  I get it!," moments. 

I have a friend that claims he doesn't "Like the Beatles," and I said, "You mean they aren't your favorite thing like you wouldn't choose to put on Abbey Road for a drive home or you like turn them off on the radio?" He explained he just thought all the songs were dumb. I honestly had a moment where I was so afraid I may not be able to speak to him ever again. IT'S THE BEATLES! 

Now full disclosure, in my teen years I longed to be a Punk Rock Princess. I saw the movie Almost Famous when I was 17 or 18 and got so depressed I was born in the complete wrong era and that those days were over. But then I discovered live music and my best friend had a band that I supported blindly and they all got me into punk and I totally loved the loud and sometimes poetic lyrics. Most of it I just found fun.  

The Pacific Northwest is an amazing place for music. There was an intense Punk following and the Indie movement was huge when I was living there. Strangely I loved both. So one weekend I was avoiding the mosh pit at a NOFX show and the following I was at Rilo Kiley at some no name club wishing I could be Jenny Lewis when I grew up. My mission was concerts. I collected concert experiences and found epic bands because of it. And now have great stories!

As a result now I have the most random, and weird collection and taste for music you could ever think. Despite being endlessly teased, my favorite band is none other than Hanson, yes, MmmBop HANSON, although they are so much more than that, I can teach you! With that said, I also love Dashboard Confessional, Reel Big Fish, Foo Fighters, Death Cab for Cutie, The Decemberists, Flogging Molly and way too many others to list!

My daughter tolerates most of it and some of my tastes have rubbed off on my husband, who will always follow me to any performance involving The Decemberists or Jenny Lewis but has only been dragged to one event involving Hanson. 

I totally wish for my child to grow up as obsessed with music as I am. So even when it drives me nuts all she wants to listen to is the My Little Pony Soundtrack, I totally let her rock that over and over because it's what she loves most right now! 

I think music is very underrated in terms of healing abilities because I will say that in my darkest moments, when I've found a song or album that speaks to me and makes me feel "gotten" and less alone, it relieves so much stress. 

Music is such an amazing gift and one that I feel goes unappreciated. Sure not all music is "good" or noteworthy but if one band reaches one person who needs it that day? Mission accomplished. I hope everyone has a favorite band, no matter how embarrassing, and that they find music to be therapeutic and amazing. My days can get infinitely better with the right soundtrack. So what's on yours?

Over-parenting, Undermining, Oh My!

Every day I'm worried I'm running out of things to write about and then I think about whatever happened the last 17 hours and I can come up with something. Here goes!

My mom helps me with Luna twice a week. As per previous posts, I don't have the very best relationship with my mom but we manage to get by. My mom and I agree on almost nothing when it comes to parenting and she is very much "Grandma." She dresses her granddaughter, buys her toys and all the things she would never need, and gives her candy and chocolate and junk food no matter what.

One thing she does, and it drives me completely insane, is she parents over me. Let me explain. My daughter interrupts and talks over us constantly. She's 5, and no matter how we spin it, everything is too important to wait. I always ask my daughter to follow directions. Over and over again I ask. "Finish your two tasks, we can talk about that later, one thing at a time." I will literally walk in the door in full parent mode and give my daughter instructions and my mom will give them over me. It sounds like this: Me: "Luna, please clean up the table, calm down and go brush your tee---My mom: "Luna clean this mess up and go brush your teeth!" It's maddening.

There have been rough periods where my husband does the same thing. It makes me shut down. I'm sure I have been guilty of this stuff too, no doubt, but it can feel defeating. When I was a nanny, you can bet I made sure I was the authority figure and I mirror that with parenting as much as possible. But, when I get steamrolled, I get cranky.

It's important for my daughter to know I'm in the mom. The head lady of the house. And when my mom undermines me, it makes me feel 6 again. So I try to overcome!

I also try not to parent other people's children, especially in the presence of the other parent. I try and make everything a dual agreement. Candy? Okay if he can't have it, you can't. Disagreement? How do we go with this? Because parenting is a team effort, even if you do it completely differently.

My husband and I have had some serious differences of opinions and I really had to learn to stand my ground on certain things that I wanted nothing to do with in terms of parenting methodology. With that said, I also don't judge how others parent...okay I try not to judge how others parent as much as possible. I admit I lose my mind when I see children under 7 with caffeinated sodas...I do. If you aren't parenting your child when that child is harming or hurting mine though, an entirely different beast can be awakened. This hasn't really happened to me. Most of the time, I've found myself around like-minded parents and if they see their little one hit mine, we get all of us into a huddle.

One of my closest mom friends, her son has always lashed out physically at my daughter. Never to the point of any real harm but in every case, my daughter has said something or done something to provoke him. That's when the two of us moms laugh and say, "Don't provoke if you don't want him to lash out in his way to communicate and don't expect her to be nice if you always hit her when she is sassy." It's a team effort when both of them are being ridiculous. 

I've only ever had one instance with a "mean kid," where she was playing at our place and I was a room away and I overheard her saying all the reasons why she was better than my daughter. Then my daughter emerged to ask for lunch for them. I asked the guest what she wanted and she proceeded to pick through our pantry and fridge. I said, "Luna wants a turkey sandwich, would you like one too?" This young one then told me she was a picky eater. Turkey sandwiches were disgusting and she wasn't even hungry. She'd eat a slice of cheese.

As my daughter happily inhaled her sandwich and her guest picked at a slice of cheese I said to her, "Every house is different and in this one, we don't talk about how we are better than others, we talk about how we may be a different or enjoy different things. Like Luna loves to color and I like to paint, not necessarily that I'm better than Luna at painting. And when we are offered something to eat that we're not interested in, we say 'no, thank you,' or 'May I have something else?' We don't say something is disgusting just because it's not our favorite. We really use happy and kinder words with each other." The play date got awkward and then better. I regret nothing.

Dana Carvey has an epic stand up routine where he talks about parents now and how we've softened. He alluded to his childhood being filled with his parents yelling "Shut up," or "I'll give you something to cry about!," and now we find parents in the park saying, "Now Gregor, what did we agree to?" The whole bit is funny because it's painfully true. A part of me wanted to scream at this little girl to shut up and not speak to my daughter like that or she doesn't need to play over here anymore. But I had to channel the millennial mom that was calm and rational and very much not my first instinct.

But I truly don't want to undermine anyone's parenting. It's delicate. As someone coming off of 2 really rough years, I can tell you that if someone were to comment to me on my parenting or lack thereof, depending on the situation, I might have lost it, so I try to just be as objective as possible unless it becomes a safety concern for my child. Some situations are harder than others.

With my mom, I can't tell her not to parent over me. It's completely irritating and unnecessary but she would just get offended and pissy. So I just reroute the discussion or distract the kiddo and let her interject her piece. I don't like that undermining feeling because, as a woman, we get the shit end of the stick anyways, but motherhood gives us some ferocity and no nonsense force that we may have never had before.

I saw many moms as I was growing up that I would never mess with. I grew up opposite as my mom was the pushover, and my dad was not to be messed with, but to me, most other moms were scarier than my dad any day! Mom's don't mess around, and that was my general imagery for my stance in motherhood, thus I try to embody it. 

Parenting is delicate, regardless, because there are so many different ways to do everything, but I think my general point to this post is, being undermined as a parent really sucks, so let's not do that to each other. Instead of parenting over one another, I'd ask that any of my mom friends just say, "Hey Luna's being a little crazy" or, "you might want to check in with Luna about how she's acting with..." Because I'd rather be "called out" on not seeing less than amazing behavior, than let Luna treat a friend poorly. Maybe that's just me but I really want to see less "shaming" kinds of things and way more learning experiences. 

So if you see me acting a fool as a mom, or see my kid being out of line, I ask that rather than undermine, you find the time to bring me into the know and help me sort it all out as a fellow parent. It really does take a village so please don't leave me to be the village idiot!