My House Is Forever A Mess, And I Kinda Love It That Way

This is my dining room in it's natural state. And this is our table. We don't eat dinner at the table enough.This table was a gift from over a decade ago, when I moved into my first apartment, and it was from the first family I nanny-ed for in Oregon. My mom hates this table. It's covered in marker, pen, paint, scratches, dents and dog hair at times. But I've raised ALL my children at this table, meaning the ones I nanny-ed for, and now my daughter. And until it falls apart, it's staying.

My daughter does arts and crafts everything and all the time. I haven't figured out a decent way or space to organize the mania, but she is always drawing and creating things. Once a week we clear this table, but during weeknights it pretty much stays like this, and I'm kind of in love with it.

I've never bought furniture from anywhere but an Ashley Furniture outlet (my husband's recliner) and Ikea. Although from time to time I get used pieces from online interactions like Craigslist or Facebook Marketplace. We've been given everything else as a gift, and are so fortunate for that.

I dreamed once of nice things and furniture sets, you know Pottery Barn type illusions, but then I realized how little that actually has to do with making a house into a home. I'm also so busy with motherhood, work and life, that my home time is limited, so rather than obsess about it looking a certain way, I'd rather it be functional and comfy.

My uncle used to have this joke that first apartments and homes are always decorated in the style of "American Poverty," because it's enough to just have a roof over your head, let alone fill it with stuff. I always love being around people who have the eye for decorating and fill their home with pretty and nice things that match, with little accents for their home, but I'm always afraid I'll mess up their house in some way. 

My house is very much "lived in." It's broken in, comfortable and, I hope, welcoming. Its is wonderfully imperfect no matter what. From the weathered grout, which is my serious obsession in superficiality, the non-matching furniture, the crazy colors of bedroom walls and the stuff...everywhere, it's everything that is US.

Maybe it was too many years of my Friends obsession but, much like Phoebe, almost all of my furniture has a story, however simple or small. So we have the dining room table story covered, and the long bench with it was Eben's cousin's. Our couches came from one of my favorite co-workers from a past job who was kind of like my "work mom." We have two recliners, a buffet, a coffee table and a piano from my old boss. He was going to give really good furniture and a PIANO to Goodwill! It just needs to be tuned, hello!

Our queen bed frame is from IKEA and has followed us to 3 houses from it's construction. The construction, my husband teases, was almost a breaking point in our marriage because that thing was so difficult to put together! We keep it now as a guest bed, after it was our daughter's for 2 years and ours for 2 years before that, and we reference it as a joke often.

Our king bed frame was from Facebook MarketPlace and they lived 10 minutes away. I had an old boss help me pick it up, and he was not a fun person to move things with as he didn't understand the difference in my size versus his, and how to move furniture with someone small but mighty. The king mattress and box spring was an amazing gift from one of my favorite people from when we got in the car accident as our mattress at the time was just on the floor in the old house. I cried when I came home from the hospital and saw it, and I miss that friend every single day because she got me through one of the worst times in my life.

My daughter's room is 90% hand me downs. Her toy box was my mom's and then mine. Her kitchen set came from another gorgeous friend I miss daily, her train table from another mom that I went to boot camp with and the dollhouse was mine. Her princess TV is from another mom friend and her daughter. There is some various Ikea furniture that we put together that didn't result in divorce, and her dresser was mine when I was baby and has followed me every place I've ever lived. Her new bunk bed is from Facebook Marketplace; I repainted it and my dad fixed it to the wall and built stairs for the dog to join her atop her full sized loft.

My husband and I have 2 dressers we got from family friends whom we love and appreciate a lot and lastly, we have my mom's old cedar chest filled with my grandmother's things. Oh and a hutch I bought from Luna's swim teacher that I repainted and filled with my grandma's china. That is probably it, I think. Everything has a story, and nothing matches, and I LOVE IT.

This wasn't always so. This has taken me YEARS. I used to love my apartments before we had a kiddo because everything would stay as it was when I was out. When you have a kid suddenly furniture becomes a liability. Or they put crayon on cushions and stain your favorite duvet. But, that's part of parenthood and adulting. 

My mom tries to force on me "matching things" and "newer things," but I like what we have and I don't need to waste money on new stuff just to have something new! My table being a mess means my daughter is creative. Her room in disarray means she was using her imagination. Blankets all over the couch means my dog is comfy. 

Everything I have is coated in sentiment and memories. There are layers of stories and emotions, even life phases that go with it. You can always rearrange to give things a different look or refreshed style, but replacing all the furniture seems really silly to me. We don't entertain much and let's face it, I have very few people to impress in my life. I'm just an anxious, working mom trying to get through each day and enjoy life when I can. If you can't enjoy my mess, don't come over. Take me out for a drink instead!

I spend hours cleaning every weekend. I maintain my house with family help and love all of it because it is ours. I don't care how cluttered, okay I do have a limit, I'll admit, but it's still mine and ours. Every area is part of home. I haven't had a place like that since I was 15 so I'm digging my heels in and enjoying the space, no matter how messy it can get, it's mine, it's my daughter's, my dog's and my husband's real, live home. Furniture can be bought and we can arrange and style any way, any day, but the memories will be stronger than any dining set, sectional couch with matching ottoman or bedroom set could ever be.

For now I'm going to enjoy the method to the madness because there are good times to be had, clean house or not. And the picture below is the result of my daughter saying, "Hey mom take a picture of my table. It looks pretty." Oh and this table was painted and styled by my sister, driven across the country by my dad, also after the car accident. I forgot that one too! So many stories with the furniture, so little time! Here's the cute table:

Happy Thursday readers!

When You Can See The Calm

I'm not even a little bit of a calm person. No one would ever list "calm" as some kind of attribute for Alison. In an effort towards more disclosure, I can reveal that my life the past handful of years has been lived in a, for lack of a better phrase, "Terror state," or limbo of, "fight or flight." I'm only just now starting to realize, assess, and repair the damages, and with each step comes a vision of calm.

See, I'm that personality that can hold a steady hand in a wave of chaos.

The above image is from my all time favorite episode of Friends. Rachel is desperately trying to take control of the mayhem from Joey and Chandler "winning" their apartment and she says she has the steady hand while we are seeing it shake and tremble perfectly, all the while she's claiming confidence that she has "the steady hand." This is me, always.

If you looked beneath the surface, and I have spent my life mastering my "game face," by the way, you could see my shaky hand. But boy did I talk the talk! I had it together! Things weren't "that bad," and everything was "fine." Now I'm owning up to it all, in bits and pieces, of just how "not fine" I was.

Seeing calm on the horizon is definitely new though, and it can feel slightly uncomfortable. I approach with great caution and know that there are still miles of hurdles before me, but am approaching them with less, depressive and negative assumptions.

Now when I call it a "terror" state, let's make clear what that has meant in my life. For me, it was not knowing if we would be okay. I had no confidence that we could afford anything really. I had no idea how I was going to get a better job, a promotion or anything to support my family where I wasn't mentally beaten down daily and berated. I had no promise of steady income from my husband's profession, which had helped him condone and utilize a lot of unhealthy practices in turn. I was breaking down and screaming over really simple, stupid, and unfair things at myself, at the dog, and at my daughter because my world was spinning and I felt immense isolation.

There were a very small amount of people that when I started to let in on some of my realities, were kind and open. A lot of friends had intense advice that was really more stressful for me, no matter how well-intentioned. Then there was a lot of reactions of not remotely knowing how to react, which made me feel like I was over-dramatizing or just being unreasonable.

As far as "fight or flight," I just kept running over and over and over the "stuck" feelings and thinking okay, "do I keep fighting the same fight without being heard? Or do I just give it all up and see if I can get some support and help?" Life had some pretty interesting detours to this question being answered that warranted my own detrimental choices and road blocks, but for the past year and a half, a great awakening had begun. And I've been incredibly aware of it's impact on my continuous journey.

Two simple events, about 8 months apart, completely changed me. I'll leave the entire stories and their details for my book one day, or so I hope. Regardless, the point is, the two events showed me: This is exactly what you had been fearing, and in worse shape than you had originally thought. And, it's not just you; you're not crazy, out of line, overbearing or unreasonable in this and it's going to be a really long, tough, journey to heal everything.

Through this I realized, it's not worth all the stress, upset, complaining and anxiety anymore over everything I can't control. I can only control my own reaction to what's in front of me. Time to stop being angry and to just let it all go, and start taking everything very slowly as it comes. I'll elaborate a bit.

Knowing that the situation, the troubles, the stress and upset was no longer just in my head and my "making a bigger deal out of something than it was," gave me a freedom I never thought possible. Knowing that the never-ending, redundant argument and complete mental beat-downs weren't actually about me, lessened the anger and made me more aware of how they happened and why. Discovering that my selfish, unbearable phase was the same coping mechanism I used when I was 16 to combat my mom's relapse and, again, it didn't work, was enlightening.

Put all of these things together, with extra guidance and some "social mining" if you will, and I can finally see the calm. It might seem weird that I'm saying you can see a "feeling," but what I mean is, I can see the difference, I can feel the changes and I can embrace what they are bringing with much less fear and petition.

The perfect example? I don't fly off of the handle anymore at really silly things and here are two great ways to exemplify that. My daughter has gone through the fearing phase in terms of her routines and stability, when plans get shaken, changed or deterred she gets upset, just like mommy. She is also always afraid she'll "get in trouble." I never wanted her to be afraid of me, only know I'm the mom!

So, the other night she spilled milk on the table cloth when we were having dinner and instantly got so upset and started to cry. I said in a neutral, calm voice, "It's just a spill! Mommy spills coffee grounds almost every morning. I'm a spiller! I'm a klutz too! We have a washing machine and it's completely fine but let's just clean it up. I'm so glad you're sharing your feelings and your reasons for being upset with me about it because I get so frustrated when I make a mess too, but what's important right now is to clean up the mess please. Okay?"

She instantly calmed down and just handled the task at hand. She helped me clean and we went back to eating dinner and talking and laughing and there was no blow-out or tantrum. I felt the difference within myself as well. That reaction was less stressful than yelling. It didn't mess up my internal rhythm. It didn't derail the whole night. This was a little change that was a huge, huge, win.

Another example was last night, for the first time in over a year, my daughter had an accident in her bed. We just got her a new mattress and loft bed for Christmas. It's kind of an annoying thing to change honestly. So last night just before midnight she called out to me and told me. I didn't yell or get annoyed or upset. Yes, I wish I wasn't woken up but I also am glad she came to me.

We both got up. She said, "I'm sorry mom. I need to change my pajamas and then I can help." I took a deep breath. My husband text me recently he was on his way home. I text him to come help, but my daughter and I ended up getting everything done before he arrived back. And we got it done efficiently. She got me towels and wash clothes. She then put them in the laundry. She took her stuffed animals back on and crawled on corners to secure fitted sheets. I bumped my foot and my head in all the mania. I did yell out that I was super frustrated I was being clumsy, but was also half awake. My daughter said, "Mom, I bump my foot there a lot, and it's tough to be careful. I'm barely awake too, really tired, but we're almost done. Thanks for helping me." It was perfect.

At the end of the exchange before a tuck into clean sheets, I said, "You're not in trouble baby, accidents happen. And you said you went right before bed. But do you understand now, that when mommy says you must go before bed, that this why it's so important and if your body wakes you up, you just get up go to the bathroom no matter what?" She nodded, we hugged it out and went right back to bed.

Little things. Big wins. Life is hard! EVERYONE, has challenges they never meant for or fathomed could befall them. It could be financial, emotional, physical, mental, or a mixture of them all, but we all have our "stuff" that can really be difficult to navigate. It can be hard to talk about it in a good, or constructive way. It can be exhausting to try and tackle. But as my favorite uncle says, "We continue."

It's good to pray, for sure. It's great to go to therapy if you can. It's amazing to find SUPPORT that works for both parties, meaning friendships and groups and social things. It's not easy to find balance in getting what you need from it all. It's not easy to find your footing and not feel so "wobbly." So my advice is to take the little strides that are big moments and hold them close. Remember the impermanence that is this thing called life. Embrace the cliches because "this too shall pass," and NEVER hesitate to tell SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE, that you're going through some stuff and just need someone to listen. You will find your way out of the muck even if you know you'll need to acquire more supplies and a lot more patience for the long hall, and I hope I can be a good example for that!

In Remembrance Of Luke Perry - My Twenty-Something, 90210 Late-Comer Obsession Will Live In Infamy

It's become a running joke between my dad and I that he notoriously allowed me to watch completely age inappropriate things from about the time I was 7 and on. I wasn't allowed to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when I was 5 because it promoted violence and fighting, but watched Pretty Woman with my parents when I was 8. Hmmm; not the best judgment.

At the hands of my entire family I was exposed to highly inappropriate movies, shows and themes, but because I was preacher's kid and completely naive, most of the innuendos went way over my head. I watch these movies now and I'm like...um wow!

Anyway, one show on my dad's radar that was kept from me was 90210. When this show hit it big, I was still a Saved By The Bell, Full House, and TGIF kinda girl and also slightly younger than the audience that got to it first. My dad never let me watch it calling it, "Soap Opera crap" and then muttering something about Tori Spelling's lack of talent. 

So, I never watched 90210 in it's prime or all it's cool, trendy glory. In fact, I didn't discover it until the summer after my 16th birthday when it was in syndication with soap operas on the likes of Fox, CBS, FX or some such. I was home alone a lot when I lived with my mom, so I started watching re-runs.

Finding them in the order of how the show progressed was tough, as it may have been still producing new seasons at this time, but I loved all the drama. And I recognized some of the actors from other things on my radar.

I didn't get into it again until I was 23. We were living with my aunt and I was finishing college. She had "the good cable," and 90210 was on 2 hours a day. I happened to be in between full time jobs and home to "study," often with the house to myself while it was on. I had just so happened to have caught it starting the cycle again. I was hooked and it became part of my daily routine. I got up early to go to spin and classes, then came home to reboot before my afternoon classes, and there it was!

Funny fact that I JUST remembered: I was actually watching 90210 when Eben called me into another room to propose to me. I was annoyed that he was bothering me because I was "watching my stories" as we used to make fun. Spoiler alert: I said yes!

Now I was still never home enough to catch the whole series so I was left with all kinds of plot holes and trying to figure out what events came when in chronology. Remember this was still WAY before Netflix, Hulu and any sort of availability to watch whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted.

Fast forward another 3 years and we are renting my favorite apartment and living large with the good cable in Florida. My work schedule allows me to 90210 binge-watch on FX before my closing shifts and I'm obsessed. The pug and I curled up and devoured every juicy moment. I was a die hard team Dylan and Brenda girl, but the Kelly stuff was compelling, I will admit.

Fast forward again to me at age 28, and having my daughter. After a rough first 6 weeks of life, which I've referenced a few times in my blogging before, I had never been so happy to be home and breastfeeding on my couch. Despite all the studies on TV making your child an idiot, I watched an insane amount of Netflix, movies, and series when I was up at night breastfeeding and throughout my days at home. Sorry not sorry, it kept me sane. And that was when it all happened.

On my maternity leave, 90210 aired for 4 hours a day; two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. The played in order and the series had just begun. I was only like 4 episodes in, and I had seen those before, so I knew. Every day Luna and I would tune into the drama. Steve, Andrea, Brandon, Kelly, Brenda, Donna, David, Valerie, Ray, Noah, the guest stars, the touching episodes, the bad corny ones, they were ALL THERE.

Because of being a stay at home breastfeeding mother I was able to watch all of 90210 and fall in love with Dylan McKay like the rest of them. Even so close to thirty I was hooked and, in my opinion, it was better late than never! So if you think about it, thanks to Luna I achieved my 16 year-old-self's goals and dreams of devouring that entire series. Go me!

So yesterday, when the news of Luke Perry's passing was posted on every social media outlet it, made me really sad. This happened just after last week they spoke about a possible re-boot of the series. Luke Perry was definitely known for his portrayal of the heart-throb, bad boy, Dylan McKay, but I also loved him as the leather clad hero in Buffy the Vampire slayer, the movie not the show, and he made an appearance in one of my favorite episodes of the highly underrated show, Raising Hope. 

He was a talented actor. And he was only 52! But what surprised me is so many of my mom friends were like, super depressed and affected by the loss. For most of them, this was their first serious celebrity crush and his passing is like the end of an era. Here we are, grown up, adulting, and some of us raising girls of our own and Luke Perry's death not only brings to light how old we are, or how short life is, but maybe also that our teenage years are just super gone now. Times have changed a lot, and always will.

It's sad to think his family lost him, but I just know there are so many women completely heartbroken that their first TV love is gone, may he rest in peace. The posters, the teen mags, the fan letters, and I think they had Barbie-like dolls and collectible things are all in remembrance of him. 

For me, he will live on forever through the likes of Hulu and I'm sure I'll bait Luna into watching it someday so she can make fun of me. But for now, and at least for me, 90210 will be that weird series that epitomized my late-bloomer status in life and allowed me to fall for that rebel without a cause like the rest of them, even in my almost-30 postpartum days. 

You'll find me binge-watching 90210, going back to West Beverly High on Hulu as my way of paying my respects. Thanks for everything Luke Perry!

Menial Tasks Are All Me

Am I the only person who loves being given a specific, albeit menial task, just because you know exactly how it should be done, and why? Maybe I am, but there's a certain sense of accomplishment that comes with it's completion, and I am all for it.

I love a good spreadsheet or "search and find" task. Any form of organization makes me feel useful. Watching the hours pass as I type or enter data makes me feel calm. Maybe that's completely pathetic and lame, but I'm always up for a good mind-numbing to do list. 

I like the kind of work where you can't completely daydream but it also doesn't require complete and utter concentration with full attention. I hate being bored or feeling lazy and useless. I hate having to worry about selling things or selling people on the idea of me selling things to make money. I labor much better under the agreement of you pay me, I do the work and it goes both ways.

I've seen this menial-happiness come and go with my jobs. In my nanny days I always wanted to find fun things for us to do, make play dough, read books, craft, go on adventure walks, watch new kid movies and I always tidied up at the end. I loved having control of all the fun kid plans. With my first retail gig at a medical apparel store, I loved reorganizing the displays and even counting inventory. I liked ordering the different styles and patterns of things and entering things into the system. 

At the one restaurant I worked in, I always liked organizing the cash station so I could be more efficient. But when I worked at Massage Envy there was lots of merchandise to arrange, and we had to situate who went into what room when, which was like a weird version of Tetris. I got really good at it by the time I left. 

Jobs where I don't have those things, I get really anxious and I don't do well, or so now I have discovered. When I worked at HSN overnights from home, the things I liked most, were against the "rules." Like I knew that the little old ladies that called me at 1AM to spend their pension on gaudy jewelry just wanted someone to talk to, I also knew that this would allow them to buy more as the conversation went on, but we were to stick to the script, keep the calls under a certain time barrier and move them along. I didn't get into it.

My other two jobs in between then and now, came with more than a few unpleasant attributes, they may be part of my book someday. But now that I have a legit office job with Alison-friendly tasks, I actually like helping do weird things like taking a country club address book and typing almost 900 lines into excel to make mailing labels for my boss and his wife. It doesn't bother me I just put on some good tunes and go!

Even at home, cleaning and arranging don't bother me because I know the task at hand. And then I earn my lazy TV time later in the day so it's easy checks and balances. I think there is a weird comfort there.

Don't get me wrong, I've never turned down a job, because I've always needed to work to like, pay bills and stuff, but we've all had less-than-awesome jobs. Not every job will use our skills to their fullest advantage. We barely use our own potential and abilities to the fullest. 

I can edit, write and spreadsheet like nobody's business. I learned how to research and collect data with my degree! It's not always easy but it always has results, and there's something in there that gives me gratification and keeps me grounded.

I'm learning that I've become very good at tuning out the chaos. My personal world has been somewhat manic until recently. It's been an emotional train-wreck at times. I've seen and even felt it affect me at jobs, both negatively and positively depending on the circumstances. Sometimes I have weathered it well, and other times it's been pretty destructive, especially when I'm working in a position that doesn't allow me to use my best attributes productively. 

I will help with any menial task. Stapling flyers, printing and filing, organizing and ordering supplies, typing, emailing, and researching, BRING IT ON!

I find comfort in routines and feeling control of the tasks in front of me, and I think this is telling in terms of my circumstances. I've been coming to terms with and processing a lot emotionally lately. What I'm working on most is my acceptance that I can't control the actions of anyone else, but just my reaction to what they put in front of me. I can't force ANY relationship to go the way I want to. Not even a mom friend, not even my relationship with my own child. My dog doesn't even always listen to me! But I can control my acceptance of the things in front off me.

This is a daily reminder and struggle. Constant mantras being muttered and internal sorting out of how to deal with all the feels! Because when I go to bed with my new and epic early bed time routine, I'll sleep better knowing I'm okay with how I reacted or with not getting my perfect idea of something, because I did my data entry like a boss, I released some updates faster today, or I came up with better social media hashtags. Little wins are a big deal and anything menial is mine!

Here's to Monday and I'm headed back to my menial research and spreadsheet action. 

Most Of Parenting Is Uncomfortable And Isn't Covered In A Single Book

You read all the books right? The parenting books? The parenting theories and ideas? Yeah, me neither. I don't buy them, pun intended. I don't buy them and I don't buy the idea that anyone actually knows "how" to parent. It's all improvisation. We all do what we can.

So I'm going to write about how I'm a bad mom or a confused mom I guess. And if anyone wants to reach out for advice on this one, I'm in. 

We have a little girl that lives close by and used to come over often. She is two years older than Luna. I knew only a little bit about the family situation as, 1) it's none of my business, 2) I do everything in my power not to be a judgmental person and 3) again, none of my business. What I gathered is that she lived partly with mom, partly with Dad, Stepmom, and Grandmother, who lived closest to us and we conversed with from time to time. She was home often with just her grandmother. 

Things were okay for awhile. Admittedly, I don't like most children that are not mine, I'm only partial to maybe like 7 or 8 kids that I see regularly, most others are not my favorite for one reason or another. But finally I started paying closer attention and I heard the little girl, a guest mind you, telling Luna she was smarter than her, she was bigger than her, she was better than her. Any food we offered was "disgusting and she's a picky eater anyway." Any toys we had, she had better ones, but didn't want to go home." She would cry and fight and scream immediately if she didn't get her way. She was even mean to the dog.

I kept telling myself that every kid is different, maybe she was going through something, and I just needed to be patient and kind. But finally I heard her telling my daughter she was "stupid" and my daughter was saying, "Hey if we don't get along, we can't play, let's try this. Okay, how about this?" This little girl constantly said, no, no, no, those ideas were dumb and I even heard some "shut ups" here and there. 

The last straw was when I made lunch. I came from a household that was very much, "Eat what is put in front of you and be thankful someone prepared food for you, like it or not!" This kiddo was apparently quite the opposite. I made my daughter a turkey and cheese sandwich and asked her what she would like. She complained and started combing my fridge and pantry. "You can just make me mac and cheese I guess," she shrugged. I said, "Well no, that's the last box we have and I'm not making a separate meal for just you. We're having sandwiches. Would you like turkey and cheese? Salami and cheese? Peanut butter and jelly?" "Just cheese," she said. "Oh like a grilled cheese sandwich," I asked her to clarify. "No just slices of cheese." I sighed. "Okay." I plated two slices of mild cheddar on the plate and she ate half of one slice, said she was full and wanted dessert. Nope. Maybe at your house kid. She ended the lunch with "I mean that cheese was gross anyway." 

It ended up being more "shut ups" and rudeness for the remainder of the play date and after she threw a tantrum and was sent home I talked to my daughter. I told her I'm not so sure we could have her over anymore. My daughter asked why and I told her that I didn't like the way she spoke to her and the way she made her feel after they were together.

I noticed that after their play dates my daughter would become rude and whiny. She would talk about being better than other kids and taller, smarter and bigger. I didn't like it. She would complain more and listen less, like looking up to this kid who kept making an example of what older and better looked like, was her only example. 

This was about 6 months ago and honestly we've been so busy that having her over just became less and less possible, so it was dropped from being an issue. My daughter sees her at school though and says she's nicer now. She's been asking to play with her.

Here's my thing: it's not my place or my responsibility to parent this kid. I can't force her to act in the way that I want my child to act. I can't make her be kind, thoughtful and respectful. And I also have no idea what she's going through at home so me being the "mean mom" serves no one. But when another kid is just mean and malicious to my daughter? I lose my nice filter and I want to put the little shit bag in her place. Excuse the language but just thinking about the behavior ticks me off.

These are the things no one tells you about in the parenting books. My husband says I should talk to her parents to which I quickly snap, "You go to talk to her parents!" Because I'm a mature adult like that. 

How do you have a conversation like that? "Hey your kid is kind of an asshole, sorry!" Plus, this is just my Mama bear opinion. Maybe they think Luna is an asshole! My kid might be a handful, but I'm a biased mother that assumes her child is perfect except when she's testing my boundaries. That's motherhood, right?

So I just let things fizzle. I mean how involved in their lives should I be? Where is the overstepping of boundaries. On the one hand maybe she has grown up a bit and they can play better together. On the other, do I put myself in a position to let her more or less bully my daughter again if that is what it comes to? So here comes more of the balancing act, another subject not even remotely covered in parenting books.

My newest idea is to reach out and invite her back over, but only let them play here under my strict supervision. Perhaps only when my husband and I are both home, so that we can better balance the situation. Besides, over with this kid's grandmother my daughter eats more junk in an hour than she does in a week. Yeah I was that kid too, but my mom never stepped in and did anything! I am not going to be THAT mom. 

So here I am, letting Luna have a play date with one of my favorite children, not this other kid yet, while I'm writing this out and mulling it over, while I'm finding my balance and bearings with it all. They don't cover this in the books and they romanticize so much of parenting in all television and movies, or make it into satire so you can't actually say, "Yes I completely relate."

This is the part of parenting that I hate. It's uncomfortable to talk about, write about and to deal with. It makes you feel like a bad mom, and kind of a not so great person. It makes you question how horrible you are in actuality. Am I completely horrible or like a normal amount of horrible? Those are not fun questions.

Please send me a copy of the parenting book that helps you deal with asshole kids and their parents. Or perhaps this is my calling to write one, because it feels really unfair. We all parent differently and every single child is different and we are all a product of our environment. I barely even attribute myself as being a "good mom" so I certainly have no right to call out any other parents. I just do my best to protect my kid. I'm doing what I can.

I'm sure this will warrant another installment. I have no doubt in fact. But for now, I hope that some other parent reads this and can either send along advice, or thinks "Damn, I'm so glad I'm not the only one." One small step for me in motherhood, one giant step for me trying to be less horrible in general. 

I shall write more as things progress. Happy Sunday!

My Little Pony, So I Guess This Is My Life Now

It's on in the living room right now. My daughter is legitimately obsessed with My Little Pony. My Little Pony has come a very long way since the 80's, I will say this, and we also made it this far into parenthood without the obsessions and crazes coming in full blast, so that's a win also.

She went through a bit of a Doc McStuffins phase, but this My Little Pony thing is a full blown love affair. As far as what is available and interesting to children her age, My Little Pony is pretty palatable. It's not too obnoxious or bratty and even the merchandising isn't as intensive as say, Disney-related things.

Now, I've made clear before that I don't judge the kid stuff. I literally bought into the Beanie Baby craze, I loved Polly Pocket, Littlest Pet Shop and of all fads, POGS. So I have no room to judge. I'm unsure if I will ever truly understand what a Shopkin is or what the point of Shopkins is but she's happy, I'm happy.

The Pony stuff, took over the 6th birthday in terms of theme, presents and every other aspect of her little realm. She watches it as often as we allow. We have Pony games on the tablet, she got Pony Chapter books and joke books, she has My Little Pony dolls, clothes, toothbrushes, crafts, stuffed animals, and music. 

The world of My Little Pony is layered and extremely real for any fan. It's got different kinds of Ponies, like Alicorn, Unicorn, Earth-Pony. It has different lands and realms, character conflicts, plot lines, the works. 

My husband actually turned me onto Patton Oswald's stand up about his daughter's obsession with My Little Pony and it is hilariously true how sucked in you can get as parents, whether you intend to or not. I definitely enjoy and appreciate the friendship themes.

The best thing is my daughter gets so excited about all the characters and what's happening, when and why. She loves telling us about every little phase, line and moment. She loves to share the world of Pony with anyone who will listen and she's extremely educated about it.

My life is now all Pony all the time. She's already vying for My Little Pony underwear. I foresee a My Little Pony Easter basket. I literally just heard her say "Rarity is just being a drama queen." It's too funny. 

I consider my daughter's obsession with My Little Pony to be the same as my obsession with say, The Office or Parks and Rec. So I let her watch on. If My Little Pony is her safe little realm of fun, I'm so supportive of her having that. 

So for now, I'll soak up every moment of her loving Ponyville, Equestria, Manehattan and so on and so forth. My favorite is Apple Jack, personally but my daughter is fond of Rainbow Dash. Yep, this is my life now. It's kind of awesome, right?

Less Is More, I Think I Get It Now

Staying on the topic of continuous lessons, growth and never-ending cliches, let's talk about that whole, "Less is more," thing.

Less is more can easily be applied to certain applications of make-up, in some cases, food and always, always, always, GLITTER.

Lately I have applied the "less is more," theory to text message conversations and tech interactions. Phones are everything these days. I have those horrible millennial moments where I get snotty as if life before smart phones was caveman-esque. When people ask for directions I scoff, "Just Google it!" When my husband complained about his data on his phone, "Gosh, just use WIFI! As if!" Yeah, I have those moments.

Some of these social media things can push you over the edge. Whomever invented the ability and application to see when a message was READ, needs to be sat down for a talk about how this is not a good thing. Let me tell you, the ellipsis bubble awaiting a response is the stuff of pure evil. I loved living in a fantasy world where when you don't get a response to a text message, it was because the recipient never saw it. How insulting is it to think they saw it and then chose not to respond?  I always want to believe they're busy or distracted as the lesser of evils. 

For me, less communication has been more productive this week. Checking in on people is great. Making and confirming plans with friends is wonderful. Asking your husband to grab groceries because you are out of things is essential. But this week I took a step back from my usual anxiety-driven texting mania and I must say, it feels frigging awesome. 

So I think less is more for social media and technologically based communications can definitely come in handy. Have you ever seen that people now have to "take breaks" from social media? I've done it often and people get into a weird panic as if I've been abducted. Which isn't to say that social media hasn't been incredibly helpful in cases attached to things like that - let me make that clear, I was just being sassy.

It's as if your activity online is some kind of sign of life anymore. So you may be actually dead if you don't update your Facebook status often enough, is that what it is? It's kind of unnerving when you think about it.

With this expansion of information and communication, I personally feel we've actually weakened our abilities to properly communicate, not enhanced them. Think of this, back in the day a phone conversation could last for hours talking about nothing or everything and plans were made, and set and followed through. Now, because we can reach anyone, anywhere, in seconds, we can "blow off" plans in a moment's notice. It's not always nice, or fair or convenient. It's not always our fault, LIFE HAPPENS, but I think instant access to communicate has let us become naturally more social anxious, and flaky, or at least it has in my personal realm. Somehow because you can get a-hold of everyone now, you can change anything and everything last minute, it's a double-edged sword.

Some people can do it all and prove that these technologies and communications are way more pro than con. However, some people, like "Anxious Alison" over here, get really wobbly in the new age world. For directions, I could not live without GPS. For music, Spotify is life. For pictures and videos, it's so perfect to have a little device right there. For social interaction, though, I'm a hot mess.

Some days I have handle on all of it and some days I'm on Pinterest and Instagram and bouncing to and from, waiting for this, waiting for that, then I look at Facebook and 30 minutes have gone by! Here comes that balance idea again, and I'm finding my way through it.

I think my husband will forever coin me as "a texter," and don't get me wrong, I will respond within 5 minutes most times. But I do wonder how much things would change if we let go of the devices a bit. Or at least if I did.

I've been working on that diligently this week and I'm proud of my progress. This is not to say you cannot get in touch with me and there are certain people I'd love to catch up with, even via text just so I can feel more on top of friendships stuff, but I'm trying to find my comfort zone. I for one, definitely rely too much on texting and social media as some kind of barometer for life things. It looks absurd when I type that but it is true, regardless. 

So here I am, a work in progress, progress not perfection, and less is definitely more! I'm in all the cliches and just finding my way through this thing called life. I hope that this helps someone feel less technologically anxious and more excited about finding their balance. For me it felt so weird at first, and much easier said than done, but by the end of this week I'm feeling more calm and rested, so I'm hoping for the same for all my readers. Happy Friday!