Don't Let Your Photos Fool Yourself

I haven been slowly getting back into my blogging groove and today was feeling it a bit more, when something funny happened. I don't have the TimeHop thingy but in Facebook the only thing I enjoy anymore is the "on this day" memories thing. Mostly it's cute dog and kid pictures, but sometimes there are good motivational things on there. 

Today something popped up and it is blog-worthy. This photo came up from 2 years ago of my good old boot camp days:

I looked at it nostalgically and then looked at it again and was like, oh I must have been doing Savage Races then or working out a lot, I look really skinny! And then I looked at the date. In August of 2017, mentally, physically, spiritually and in all walks of life I was completely miserable and very unhealthy. I remember having some things to look forward to but my health was horrible.

I even looked back into my google photos and every other picture of me, I look heavier, frumpy even because I was indulging in unhealthy habits like drinking too much, too often, not eating enough or eating junk at every chance, only working out 3 days a week and mentally I was completely falling apart, desperate to hold it together.

Ironically this morning I woke up excited to hit the gym. I was excited it was Wednesday with only a couple more work days to power through. I was having a great week. So to prove how deceiving a good picture can be I did a work bathroom selfie below:

Here's what two things I will bring up that are important. Some people might say, it's the same except I'm not in workout clothes. Let me tell you what I see in picture two, and remember that we are our own worst critics so some of this will be me, not being nice to myself and some of it may come across as way too narcissistic, just go with it for now.

In that first picture I'm forcing a 6AM smile, probably sucking it in. In today's picture I'm being the poster girl for Old Navy and rocking an outfit I LOVE. I have felt very thick lately but have also completely re-vamped my workout routine and schedule and am working hard on what matters to me. I don't hate my body today. I love my body today.

In that first pic, I hated my body. How do I know this? Because I was treating every part of it like garbage two years ago. I remember being so upset two years ago but putting on my happy face daily. Every day was "if I can get to x,y,z I'll be okay. I'd had a ridiculous summer of selfishness and mental anguish and was trying to snap out of it. 

Today, I realize how much my body has done for me. I'm so thankful for not being on thyroid meds even though I've been struggling with some of the health stuff that comes along with keeping it natural over here. I'm thankful that I take the stairs every day and that I'm strong enough to feel sore when I push my limits. I'm thankful for every curve. I'd rather be thick and living my life happy, than be 30 pounds lighter afraid to eat a cupcake.

It's so easy to let any and all pictures fool yourself. I don't care if it's jealousy of others or of past versions of yourself. It's easy to forget what was really happening at those times when we just see the smiling snapshot. 

While I love that Facebook and google keep these memories for us, I'm always met with mixed feelings as to what they mean. I can usually recall what vague posts were about. I can usually remember what was going on around a picture or status update. Some of them are fantastic memories. Some of them are not so much. 

Don't let the photos fool you into thinking that what you have now is necessarily bad. Maybe you are going through a dark patch. Maybe things for you are just shitty but I urge you to try and snap a selfie, even if it's not a smiley pretty one. You'll revisit it later and think "oh yeah, I'm glad I let myself feel and be real in that moment," I think. 

I'm glad I have pictures of me looking great and looking not so awesome, why? Because that's ME. I'm glad I have pictures OF ME BEING ME, whether I was in a good place or not because it's all part of the journey. Today I'm glad I wanted to small and show off my budget fashions. Today I'm glad that this post came pouring out of me and I feel triumphant and free. 

You'll look over thousands of photos but don't be fooled by them, be inspired. There was some silly rom-com I loved, I think it was called "Just Married," and there is a line in there I always liked about how, you never see pictures of the bad times, just the good but the bad times are what gets you the stories and memories you need between the photos. Keep that idea close on this Wednesday and remember that everything is temporary. It's just one day at a time!

Letting Go Of What I "Should" Do

So, any mom, perhaps any woman, and definitely most anyone knows that guilt-ridden feeling of the "should." What "should" we be doing? On a rainy Sunday you might want to just not shower, stay in pajamas and watch movies all day, eating everything and anything but what "should" you be doing instead? Cleaning, getting things done for the week ahead, organizing, etc.

Little by little, slowly but surely I've begun letting go of all these antiquated ideas of what I "should" do and the results are pretty empowering. Freeing, if you will

After my last meltdown with expectations around church attendance and then having a vacation where everything was about the company we keep rather than where we all gathered, it allowed me to mentally realign. I've also recently forged a friendship with a friend of a friend type and we've begun a dual support system of understanding how much faith you can have in great things, good people, and kindness outside of a physical church setting that we no longer want to put that pressure on ourselves to "go to church" when it just makes us miserable.

I always feel like I "should" check in with people, but guess what? The phone works both ways. I always feel like I "should" go to church on Sunday, but I also have a spiritual experience with a good sleep in session, fresh cup of coffee, and the smell of cooking bacon. I had felt like I "should" work out but wasn't fully in so I did a rest, reboot and realign until I felt better.

Essentially what I "should" be doing is actually listening to myself and my family. I had this great realization earlier this week that I don't need to fit in or do what everyone else is doing because we are a far cry away from high school and I think I might officially be an adult. My family has a wedding to attend in a couple months in the Savannah area and all of the accommodations in that area were out of our price range. I found a place some 30 miles away in Hilton Head Island, SC, a place I visited in my youth, for almost $50 a night less than anything close to Savannah.

So the wedding is in Savannah and most guests will be there but that doesn't mean we have to stay in Savannah. I started researching routes and which highways to take and making sure we had addresses and such and realized that because the condo is on an actual island, Hilton Head Island, it takes an hour to get there from Savannah. My first response was panic and anxious like, "Oh my gosh drive an hour after the wedding? Great I'm such an idiot."

I researched other places closer, none of which had the beach or an indoor/outdoor pool and hot tub. I reached out to my husband and he said, "Well I've never been anywhere near any of those places. Sure we can enjoy Savannah but we don't have to stay there. We're not IN the wedding so we don't need to be around all of that. It's our time off. We "should" do what we want to do."

There it was again. The "should." We "should" do what we want to do. And we will. Somehow I needed someone else to say that to me, for me.

There are some necessary "shoulds" like you "should" shower daily and be polite. Some are seeming less and less obligatory and more and more obnoxious. Maybe it is coming of age that just has me feeling less and less equipped to deal with the expectations of others as they are being pushed onto me.

I even got kudos in my personal therapy session for being more flexible and keeping up my boundaries. We spoke a lot about the "shoulds," and when I told her I gave myself a break she was extremely impressed. To be honest, I'm even impressed with myself.

I'm very much enjoying where I am and trying not to muddy the water. It will happen at some point I'm sure but for this late Tuesday afternoon, I'm just reveling in where I am, how far I've come, and that I'm happy to keep going.

The Biggest Big Girl Thing To Say

This weekend I hit my max. It was Saturday to be exact. 

I think we were all in a post-vacay back-to-school funk. I did that thing we all do best where we subconsciously promise that if we can just make it to the weekend, things will get better. I did what I had to do, and then some, to get us through. Even our Friday was okay.

I yell sometimes. I hate that I do it, but it happens. I try very much not to, but when I'm mentally pushed to the edge, plus tired, plus fighting off a sinus infection, I just felt like 3 strikes, I'm out. Saturday I had to handle some stuff really well, that I shouldn't have had to deal with at all, and I still had chores to do, and on the rainy day what I wanted to do most was nothing and I totally broke down.

The breakdown was a slow process. It started when we left the house to get gas and then go to a birthday party. We didn't make it around the corner when my daughter started complaining about a cramp. Then it became the worst thing ever and she would die without water. We were 5 minutes from destination 1, 15 minutes from the party.

I attempted to calm her, to down play. I attempted to rationalize. Still the agonizing cries and shrieks were happening. At the gas station she just had to get out and get a water at the store. I got annoyed because $2 in water was not necessary. She could drink her weight in free water at the party. There is a part of me that has been wrestling with the "Suck it up" attitude, often.

Then when the water didn't instantly heal here there we go again. By the time I got us back and settled, ready to go to the party I lost it and yelled. I yelled loudly and a lot. Not my best moment.

I started firing off the list of lost privileges. No technology! We're not staying for the party! Early bed! It was then from the back seat, calmly, I heard her say, "I'm sorry mom I just don't know how to control my anger sometimes." She didn't even say it in a bratty way. It snapped me right back where I needed to be.

My tone completely morphed and I said, "You know what, that was a big girl thing to say. That's a big deal that you said that. So you may have your privileges back because saying that is a huge deal. You acknowledged." It was then that I asked her to notice how calm my tone was and how when she shared with me her thoughts and true feelings, I can better help her.

Then I got down to business. Is this a real stomach cramp or dehydration and just, listening to your body? We then discussed the "Let's go to the doctor" feeling and the "my body is just working on something," feeling. Of course once we got to the party that cramp magically disappeared as did both of our attitudes.

I'm still reveling in this. The whole exchange really. To me it was all growing pains for us both and both of us running on empty. I am self-aware of these feelings for sure but for being 6 and 1/2 she sure was able to pinpoint her frustration well and somehow call me out on my irrational outburst as well. 

For Monday, this little tale is all I have but I wanted to leave it for all the moms who have needed to tap out and who have been pushed to their mental limits. I loved this little lesson, no matter how messy, and am holding it dear because it made us closer this weekend. And I loved every moment of it. 

I Invented Binge Watching

Okay so I know this looks like some Romy and Michelle, "I invented Post-Its" thing, but you'll have to bear with me.

 

So many years ago a show aired on Showtime called "Weeds." In my young college years in a tiny one bedroom apartment with my then-boyfriend, now husband, we somehow scraped together the money for full cable plus Showtime. My mom had bought us the first season and said "This show is hilarious."

We were hooked instantly and somehow all of our friends, some 7 or 8 of us would squish into our tiny one bedroom apartment, every week to watch Weeds. This may have happened two full seasons I cannot remember. One season I was studying abroad and when I came home I literally adapted back to the Pacific Northwest time zone, by binge-watching Weeds when I couldn't sleep.

Weeds is created and written by Jenji Kohan who is now most well known for the Netflix series, Orange is the New Black. Weeds now lives in infamy for perfectly embodying the phrase "Jumped the Shark," when referencing it's weirdly tumultuous detour in Season 4. Now Weeds lasted 8 Seasons but to all die hard fans, after season 4 it was like, "This can't get worse, but let's just see I guess."

I fell in love with Weeds amazing cast and the plot line and once I was invested, I was all in. When we moved around and were struggling 20 somethings trying to figure out life, we couldn't afford cable. Season after season after season went by and what would we do? Every year they released it on DVD we would buy it THAT day and then watch the ENTIRE season with great food and laziness. Hence, I invented binge-watching.

I'd like to say it started with Weeds but really I think it started when I got my first Season of Friends. It was like a contest on who could watch the most episodes. Even when Netflix started you could only "Binge-watch" whatever you had on disk pre-streaming platforms. So if Netflix sent you 2 discs of a season with 5 disks, you were still limited.

I lived to have an entire season in my hands and devour the entire thing. It was the most relaxation I could ever have and thus my invented perfection of the binge-watch began. Other binge-watching revelations could go back to America's Next Top Model or bad VH-1 reality television shows. Remember those marathon days? Yeah, I was all over that!

This all came about because with the final season of Jenji Kohan's most recent brainchild being released onto Netflix and also my recent binge watch of Glow, I realized that the term and act of "binge watch" is such a thing so much so that many Netflix series drop that term into normal conversation. It's now fully a thing.

I started to re-watch all of Orange is the New Black and often prep for a new Season release by watching all prior episodes. I am the exact target audience of all things binge-watching so I think I should get some creative credit here.

Netflix definitely does it right. Watching a series from week to week is now agonizing and makes you feel prehistoric and completely let down.

The best part, for me, about a binge watch experience is it forces me to slow down. I do not sit still and this whole "me time" thing is such a struggle for me. So then, if I know a season is coming out I can be like "Sunday after church we are doing nothing and watching Stranger Things 3 all day!" It forces me to get stuff done and out of the way to succumb to the "chill."

I'm sure many people can't do the binge watch but for me, while breastfeeding and being a stay at home mom with this kid attached to me, it was all about binge-watching. I devoured Mad Men, the last seasons of The Office, that series The Killing was it called? I watched Glee and a bunch of other stuff I'm probably forgetting. 

I'm that weirdo who likes having stuff on in the background. It's a momentary distraction or, something to offset the other annoying walks of life. Who doesn't enjoy folding laundry with Game of Thrones in the background? Well, at least the first 7 seasons now maybe. 

I have always been that girl that cannot wait to settle into a good movie with popcorn and treats or with a pizza and undivided attention on that screen. When movies were still affordable, I'd be there just waiting to engulf myself in the drama. I still need to watch all 3 uncut versions of Lord of the Rings and all 8 Harry Potter movies in one sitting. Yes. Goals.

Maybe I should write something about "The Art of The Binge Watch," because I think I'm seriously onto something here! I digress, and the moral of all this Friday fun is, binge watching is such a thing that our patience to follow a series is waning, much like our patience without technology is dissolving. So although I fully plan to keep watching Orange Is The New Black and become a binge-watching  connoisseur, I will leave you with the wise words of the great Ferris Bueller:

"Instincts Are Misleading, You Shouldn't Think What You're Feeling"

This post is going to be filled with all the quotes; you've been warned. So yesterday I woke up feeling "down a peg," and used the rain as an excuse to miss my kickboxing but still rallied at lunch on the elliptical. I'm still in heavy vacation recovery zone and yesterday I had to do a random project for my boss. Therefore, the blog post yesterday got lost in the shuffle, and I think that could be said about myself too.

Yesterday I did a classic "chick" move and text someone that had fallen off the grid and I did my whole "check in" thing. I knew I should have just let things succumb to the fade, but I am who I am. Is that a Popeye thing? Now this isn't a post about a fight or a blow out or even some kind of half closure. This is just about following your instincts and feeling some harsh realities.

To be clear this isn't a bad person or harmful person I reached out to, but rather someone who knew me during a rough phase in my life and that maintains only that perception and understanding of me. There is no knowledge of my personal work and growth and out of insecurity I sent that text almost looking for an opportunity to say, "But I'm getting better."

That opportunity didn't happen because, and just as I had suspected, just as my gut warned me, the conversation was directed to their recent break up and moving on to bigger and better conquests. In that moment I was reverted back to where I was two years ago with them, grasping to keep this kind of attention because it was all the attention I got. Yesterday, it just made me uncomfortable. In addition to that, the conversation was very much left hanging, no sense of closure or a reciprocated "Talk to you in a few weeks."

I then went through my normal anxious routine of "I told you so," "You knew this would happen," "You should have never checked in," "why do I even bother?", "I don't wanna deal with this," etc, etc.

True to form I then became irrationally angry that I was left hanging: "What you're too busy to say 'Talk to you later?'" "You're too good to take a moment to like, close a conversation or give some reassurance in this situation?" "If I can make time to message you, you should be able to respond!?"

Following the above came the rationalizations and inner self-soothing dialogue. And don't even act like you don't do this yourself because we all do! I started thinking to myself, "Well it was mentioned that things were overwhelming with the break up so just give it some time." "You put all that good energy out there and you can't FORCE a response, REMEMBER?" "They always come back, especially when you're not in a good enough space to hold your mental ground and navigate their stuff so, just keep that in mind." "It is what it is." "It really just is what it is, so just breathe and let it go."

Now this one fall back might be specific to just me but I usually "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" this stuff. There are usually a handful of people that I struggle with keeping afloat that I just wish I could forget about, in a non-mean way, but like they'd been erased and I could just no longer care. I just wish I could pluck them from my brain and every day existence. 

It was with prayers about my anxiety and a good workout at 9Rounds complete with punching things, getting out some aggression that I kind of reminded myself that I can "do no harm, but take no shit." I had to build myself back up into the idea that, it's not about me nor is it my fault that texts weren't returned, conversations weren't closed and that the whole exchange was uncomfortable. I mean I own my feelings of discomfort as, my just not being mentally prepared for the deluge of info and for not realizing the effect of it on me. However, regardless of how the exchange was left, I still can't control another person's opinion of me.

In an even more awakening light, I was listening to the Dax Shepard ArmChair Expert Podcast with Busy Phillips and he said something so right on I actually wrote it down on my work scribble pad. He said, "It's too uncomfortable to think they might now not like you so people stay half in a relationship still being there for them...I can't live with the notion that this person I like now hates me, but sometimes through your actions and other things that's just a part of living on planet earth."

That hit me like a stroke of lightning and happened just after this morning that all I could picture was that scene in The Office where Pam was going to see Karen for the first time after the break-up with Jim that subsequently got Pam and Jim together. Pam said, "I hate the idea that someone out there hates me. I hate even thinking that al-Qaeda hates me. I think if they got to know me, they wouldn't hate me."

I kept replaying that scene in my mind mulling over the exchange and then came into work and popped on my morning podcast only hear that exact part of the ArmChair Expert interview clearly. It was something of kismet and started all good things in my mind. When I went to write the title to this post, after listening to a lot of The Cranberries this morning, all I could hear was one of my favorite Death Cab for Cutie songs, "Lightness," and there is a kind of bridge that sings, "Oh instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what, you know you should want."

It made me grateful that I was open enough to connect the dots instead of putting myself into some mental frenzy of insecurity and invalidation. It gave me affirmation that, sure I may have had a mis-step or emotional relapse of some kind but I'm also ridiculously human. 

All of the quotes ring true to me, my anxiety and my relationships of all kinds. I spent the morning making a playlist on Spotify dubbed, "Care Less," with all kinds of songs designed to fuel my whole, "let it go," "it is what it is," and "let it be" cliche mantras to get me through the weird funk I'm now lifting myself out of only a tad hazily.

Ironically I'm not really embarrassed to admit or write about any of this. Why? Because we've all had this happen. It could have happened when you were 14 or just yesterday. We have these anxious exchanges with friends, ex-friends, ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends, old family members we don't stay in touch with that leave us feeling inferior, unappreciated or less than. It could be a product of a bad day, or a mental health slump, or it could just be those sticky insecurities tripping us up. It could be many people, many things, many reasons, but guess what? It has hit us all at one time or another.

I used to journal about stuff like this and write weird narratives about it or some beatnik poem. This time I'm just openly like "Yeah, I was THAT chick yesterday." Perhaps the bravery comes from the likelihood of the secondary party actually reading this being about the same as the chance I have of winning the lottery, but it is out here for ALL readers and interested parties so, "Que será, será."

For those of you who haven't had much experience with this, thanks for the reading time but remember that as "just a part of living on planet earth," odds are you'll reach this point one day and may my awkwardness guide you on your quest navigating weird relationship things.  

My Gypsy Tendencies

My best friend always calls me a gypsy. I'm guessing she feels I have a nomadic and free-spirited nature but after growing up in the same place for my childhood, it's honestly quite strange that I've ended up that way. When we went to New York on our trip she said it just solidified my gypsy ways.

My dad helped me see most of the United States on many a road trip by the time I was 16. My mom loves the beach so we did the Bahamas and frequent Florida trips in my youth as well. My uncle gave me all Pennsylvania history lessons and living in PA all those years kept me well versed in all civil war and American beginnings via field trips to Gettysburg, DC and Philly.

College brought me the travel bug because I just desperately wanted to experience other places so I got myself a study abroad trip to Europe based out of London and fell in love. I'm dying to go back someday because it was the best three months of exploration, travel, art and history.

My best friend also asked me politely if I ever sit still, and the answer is no. When I'm busy I feel I'm at my best because I can't get caught up mentally or emotionally in unnecessary things. On vacation I wasn't attached to my phone unless I needed directions or was taking too many pictures. I wasn't obsessing about lost and faded friends, unanswered texts, and affording my second Starbucks that day. I just wanted to "be" for a little bit and enjoy being away from home.

I spent 13 years watching Baltimore grow because we frequented it often in my youth. It was the biggest city that my dad actually enjoyed taking us to and we found secret spots we loved. Of course now it's different but also impressive as to what has stayed the same.

Ten years ago in March of 2009 I took myself to New York as a college graduation present. At that time my cousin was going to college at Fordham and living in a crappy apartment in the Bronx with 3 or 4 roommates, his description not mine. He now lives in Brooklyn with his wife and daughter. Both visits he was the tour guide and both visits were incredible.

I don't tend to get overwhelmed or anxious in big cities oddly. I am usually just in awe and so eager to explore I can somehow hone my anxious, obsessive tendencies into some clarity and finding ways to get us to what we want to do. I'm already dying to go back and see more, more, more.

When I started moving I never expected it to become the lifestyle it molded into. I think that I just had to learn to physically move on and also liked changing my horizons. I liked knowing that I could have a new space and new place to make mine; a blank slate. I liked seeing new things and exploring new areas. In 8 years in Eugene, I lived about 7 different places all across the city but only in Eugene, somehow never in Springfield or even Portland.

When we came to Florida it took us about 6 long years to find where we wanted to make "home," and now I'm ready to dig in for a long run until this kid is outta high school. My gypsy ways will have to be strictly for vacations only.

This past week, being all over had its elements of exhaustion and disorientation but also kept things fun and interesting. I had my moments of down time and relaxation, and I had my moments to push through and have fun.

During my times of struggle, my gypsy tendencies work against me. I was dying for a real trip and to see real things and feeling angry and trapped. Now I can better appreciate things. During my periods of growth and healing my gypsy tendencies work for me. I'm able to plan well and enjoy any time, no matter how short, in the space and place we're in because I know how lucky am I that we even get to share such experiences.

I always attribute my gypsy-ness to my trauma. For most of my childhood I thought you would just live the same place as your whole family always. Most everyone was a thirty minute drive at most. And you can go away to college but then you could just come home and start a family. When my mom left, that entire idea was shattered. She wanted out and she left and I kind of followed because if my parents weren't together, what was home? I just decided to embrace the new and try and piece things back together with familiarity of "stuff" rather than places.

My husband gives me a hard time because of how many things are "mine," versus his in different contexts, but for me it's all about the stuff that is "home." Our dining room table will always be "mine" even though it is used as "ours." I was given that by a family I was the nanny for and it has lived with me in every place since I moved out and it always will.

I love to travel and experience and have fun. I wish to do more of it but am grateful for every experience I've had and we are planning to have. I'm a firm believer in "next time" and revisiting places. Maybe I can gypsy it because home is more about familiar people and some familiar artifacts rather than an actual building. Maybe I'm just growing into going with the flow enough that I can spread my wings and fly higher and more often.

For now I like my gypsy tendencies and embrace them. I'm excited to see where they take me.

The First Day After The Vacay Post

After returning from vacation last night, staying up too late unpacking, unwinding and trying to wrap my head around re-entering routines and reality, I am now settling back and figuring out a decent pace with which to do so and can sit down and write.

Part of me assumed I'd have so many blog post ideas I'd have to figure out which one first, but really, my car ride into work left me feeling wobbly and tired. So here I am grasping at my bearings. 

This trip was a learning experience. I could say they all are, but not so much. I mean I've learned how to pack, I've learned how to stress less but the phases of childhood, adulthood and marriage, are all learning experiences anyway, so throw in a trip and it's like free tuition.

My daughter's practice of picky kid eating was brutal and because I had to plan so delicately for that, not only could I barely practice my mindful eating, but I really couldn't report if I over-ate at all. I had no mindset for it. And if I was hungry and there wasn't food, oh well. I know I drank too much Starbucks, but that is all. I barely snacked and when the opportunity for a real meal came up, I indulged because, hello, vacation.

I learned that being "tough," directive and correct about things doesn't make you any friends. I learned that in the right company you can have your needs met with no argument, but instead with open arms, understanding and gratitude. I learned that family is just family, no matter what.

I think this trip was a complete lesson in practicing what you preach, picking your battles and just taking what you can from what's in front of you. There was rain, sun, tears, smiles, and a lot of compromises. I actually had only one meltdown on vacation and then about an hour into being back home I lost it and screamed aloud in the kitchen.

Some of my favorite parts of our trip were at our most volatile moments in fact. On our flight north, my daughter was completely irate that I had mixed up the terminals and there was no Chik-Fil-A only PDQ and she lost it. I calmly salvaged everything and settled for a Lunch-able, a can of Pringles and Chocolate Milk for dinner. The following morning she ate her weight in sausage at the continental breakfast. She was upset and we were walking around the terminal looking for food. I was talking her down. I kept saying 'The getting there is the worst part and you're allowed to feel all the frustration but we can make it work."

I saw an older motherly-type smile compassionately at me even though my daughter was audibly hating me. When we boarded our flight I said "Okay, please be aware of other people and not to bonk into them and you may pick our seats." The same woman we passed was front and center on our flight, already boarded and she said kindly, "You're doing good mom," to me. That was a great moment for me. I liked kindness and support.

My daughter did well until we were awaiting the shuttle at the hotel. She just lost it and I let her sit on the luggage. There was a sweet flight attendant watching my daughter's meltdown, amused at the display and she said, "You know, I was with my 4 year old at Wal-Mart late one night, getting close to bed time. She was talking back and the cashier said, 'I don't know why kids think they can be bratty just when they're tired.' I about smacked that cashier like, 'She's 4! She's tired! And she's my kid! Kids gotta be kids!'" When I finally loaded her into the shuttle that woman said, "You're doing good mom! You got this!"

Those two moments were just the little pick me up I needed to get me through. There were times when my daughter was just straight mean to me, and miserable because of whatever reason. And I just had to get her to a calm space and rationalize. There were a few times I grabbed her arm in a public place and said "ENOUGH!" More often I just let it slide, why? Because she's a human kid completely out of her normal routine. I weighed the importance of "disciplining" her and just letting her be a bit of a kid, which seemingly only bothered my husband.

I think travelling is just stressful and hard, so making it any worse by being "at" each other doesn't serve much of a purpose in my opinion. I think my daughter did phenomenally well in retrospect but there were times when I wanted to lose it on her, for sure. What mom doesn't have those moments daily and especially in high stress situations.

I've become pretty rational with her lately. I've started saying "Okay here is your issue, here are the options, what choice are you making?" I've coddled her and done what I could to pacify in a few situations but I've also made her toughen up a bit.

Yesterday she was very itchy from some bug bites. We had plenty of cortizone cream. We changed shoes. We tried with and without socks. By the end of the day she was just completely done. She slept so hard on the plane and woke up enraged and ready to get home. When we were in the airport I saw some of the dirty looks from people thinking I was this mom letting her child be "neglected" or "whiny." She wasn't bleeding, she was uncomfortable, it happens. Then I had a guy on the escalator smile after my daughter let out a huge whiny exclaim and he said, "We all feel the way she does, we just aren't letting it out like her!"

At the baggage claim another mom said, "I've had those days. I have a 7 year old and 4 year old. Their dad has been with them all of 4 hours and cannot wait for me to get home. You're doing good." Then an older gentlemen said "They grow up to be better," showed me a picture of his redheaded granddaughter and proudly reported her starting college. Even our ride home was okay with her yelling at me the whole way home. 

Yelling at her about any of it, wouldn't have solved the situation and the same went for the entire trip. My biggest meltdown was mostly quiet and born out of the feeling that no one was grateful for where we were, where we had been and what we were able to see. I felt like up to that point I had compromised my ass off, was being "told how things would go," and I just wasn't having it. 

My meltdown at home was born out of a lot of the same things but for different reasons. I didn't have expectations that my home would be pristine and waiting for me, but I hadn't anticipated or felt it deserved to have extra work in my way of settling back in. The first day back after vacation is always rough because you've had all this time away adventuring and then you're slammed back into routines and schedules, I always just hope that there are things in place to lessen the blow of the transition, rather than amplify. Then again, to practice what I preach boy did I have my low expectations train arrive at a grinding halt at the station!

This trip showed me infinite gratefulness. I felt so well taken care of by the people I love the most. I felt like we were appreciated for taking the time to be around everyone and in more ways than one. I felt so lucky and blessed to have been a part of everything. I felt calm, loved and at ease which I can honestly say hasn't always been the case on trips of the past.

I opened my eyes to a lot through this experience, especially in reference to my daughter and husband. I'm a little tired. I'm a little stressed to get back into things, but I know I'll be okay and things will even out after some time re-adjusting. For now, send coffee and hugs and I'll be getting back on the blogging track as well. Happy Monday!