Saturday, December 31, 2011

Good Bye 2011, Welcome 2012

Each year is different. This year has been a whopper. Not a single thing I had planned for this year, coming into it, happened with the exception of the birth of our third child, Adrina Victory. I have to say that her joining our family was the best part of the year. She has been such a joyful blessing to us as well as the "pick me up" we needed right in the middle.

Due to the delightful economy and booming job market (I'm being sarcastic), my poor husband has had a heck of a year with his career. He has been through hell and high water to provide for this family and I will forever be grateful to him for what he's had to go through, and is currently going through to take care of us. He has had to and is doing things he doesn't enjoy in parts of the country he doesn't particularly like and is away from home at long periods of time, the shortest so far being about 3 weeks, the longest almost 3 months. This wasn't what we had planned.

My grandfather, my mom's father, passed away earlier this year. I don't think it came as a complete surprise to any one but myself and since we talked often around this time of year, it's been tough to not be able to talk to him. In all seriousness, if he were still alive, I probably wouldn't be typing this up right now, I'd probably be downstairs hanging out with him, getting ready to ring in the new year. Not what I had planned.

I am home alone all day every day with three small children. This was not how I imagined the year going. However, if I had to be home bound with anyone in the world, it would be my three beautiful children. We were blessed with our healthy, gorgeous Adrina in June. Her name means "happiness" and she has lived up to it. She bring a smile to my face and a sense of completion to our family.

Later on in the year though, more unpleasant things happened. Some are extremely personal and it's not my place to yet share those things here. I'll just say that they've been heartbreaking things. One in particular left me feeling as if my best friend had died. Like a piece of my heart was no longer there. It's a wound that is still healing and hopefully the situation will be reconciled very soon. When it is, I know all will be well again there.

In spite of all the frustration and worry that flowed through out the year, I learned a lot about myself and about my relationship with God. I wondered if these things were happening as a result of my lack of trust in Him. Some of the things that took place in 2011 were and are out of my control. However, how I react to them and in turn how my attitude, frame of mind and family are concerned, is in my control. I've learned what I'm capable of enduring. I learned that it is not on my strength that I will get through this life but by the strength that God gives me. It was by no doing of mine that my poor mom and her brother have not despaired at loosing their father. It was not me who provided my husband with the job that pays our bills. It was not my hand that delivered our beautiful daughter. It was not my inner peace that has helped me deal with the "loss" of a person very dear to me. It is not my own two legs that I stand on every morning as I get out of bed to take care of my kids. God has been holding me up the entire time. Only by His grace am I making it through every day. Only by His mercy does my husband have a job in these tough times. Only by His compassion are my mom and uncle coping with their loss. And only by His love is my baby healthy and happy today.

This year, I learned that God has always been there for me, taking care of me even when I turned my back on Him. He has always had my best interest at heart. He has always wanted good things for me. And through re-realizing this, have I been able to see His goodness in all the pain of this year.

My grandfather may have died, but he accepted Christ in his last days.
My husband has a job. We are so completely blessed by this alone.
In an effort to deal with being alone most of the time, God allowed this blog to launch and has given me an excuse to write again, something my heart has been longing for for quite some time now.
My "friend" may still be MIA but that too is in God's hand and through this situation specifically, He has shown me the error of my own ways and has begun to heal my soul again.

God has good things planned for us and chances are, they are not what we have planned for us. I take joy in this knowledge because while my own plans for life tend to be of comfort and fun, God's plans for me are to help me grow as a woman, as an individual, a wife, mother, daughter, friend, sister. He only has plans for me to prosper and not to fail.

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know what I have planned for you,’ says the Lord. ‘I have plans to prosper you, not to harm you. I have plans to give you a future filled with hope.

I know that 2012 will be a good year because I know that God will be taking care of me and my family. I know that He will only allow things to happen that will cause us to grow and not wilt. I am looking forward to seeing what He has planned for me and my family.

Happy New Year Every One! May your 2012 be a blessed year!

Thursday, December 15, 2011

A White Christmas and a Little About How I Feel About Men and Women

As I sit here writing this, I'm watching my all time favorite Christmas movie, A White Christmas. I just absolutely love this movie and just have to watch it every year.

This movie appeals to all my "senses". I'm a hopeless romantic so I enjoy the love story in it. I LOVE the singing. I wish people sang like that these days. Nowadays, music is... too much. There's just too much going on in the songs. These songs are simple and beautiful. I love the dancing. Isn't it funny that back in the day you HAD to be able to sing and dance and act in order to be in show business? I really don't think that any of those are really prerequisites any more. I love the story line and how they try to bring some help and hope to the general and how they surprise him with a gift that honors, respects him and helps restore his feeling of self worth. I ADORE the dresses. Oh man. In all honesty, I wish women dressed like this today. They're beautiful and they're modest!

This kills me about today. I wont say that I'm not guilty of sometimes wearing things that reveal too much. But I can go to the mall during the summer and see just about as much clothing on some of these girls (and women) as I would if I went to the beach. Tight and skimpy is glorified! And girls today wonder why they can't get guys to take them seriously and respect them. The women in this movie are wearing outfits that flatter their figures but seriously, they're wearing clothing! I mean, their dresses are mid shin length and many show almost no, if any, chest skin. They carry themselves  with poise and elegance. I've often wondered why men aren't really romantic these days or how chivalry really is dying and I am actually blaming women. We don't force men to be romantic or chivalrous. We don't treat ourselves like we deserve to be pampered or we treat men like we don't need them because we can take care of it ourselves. Well, through the generations, men have gotten used to this. I don't need to learn how to dance and take my girl dancing because I can just stand on a club dance floor and have half naked women throwing themselves at me. I don't need to respect women because they don't need to respect themselves. Find a woman with class? Yeah right. What's that?

Too often, we blame men for what we are actually at fault for. If I act like a hooker, I will get treated like one. If I act like a woman who is desirable enough to pursue, then men will pursue me. And I don't mean men men. The only man I want to pursue me is my husband. But if I'm dressed like a bum all the time, then he wont be attracted to me. Let's face it ladies, men are visual. And it doesn't stop when they get married. If I look like a million bucks, you can bet your butt that my husband is going to be on my heals constantly. If I'm dressed like I crawled out of a cave, he tends to keep his distance. I have learned NOT to dress up when I know I'm going to be cooking if I want to get anything done. Looking good and adding food to the mix... any man melts. But too often today, we conduct ourselves in a way that tells men that we're either too easy or we're too much hassle or we don't need them.

This is a bit of a tangent to go off on while watching A White Christmas but these women are attractive. I know it's a movie but still... They're covered head to toe (except for the occasional dance costume), they carry themselves with self assurance, they're talented and they're ALIVE. They're singing and dancing and smiling and living life. I wish women were more like this today. Too often, we see women and girls that have no self esteem, who don't think they're worth real love and respect and they dress like prostitutes just to get men's attention. It's sad.

I wish I could dress like the women in this movie. It elicits so much more mystery and romance and elegance. Ok. Now can some one watch my 3 kids so I can get dressed and do my hair and make up?

Just kidding.

I'm going to get back to the movie now.



This Wannabe Supermom is going to start setting a better example for younger men and women, including my beautiful children, and do my very best to conduct myself in a way that exudes life and elegance and character and self respect.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Holiday Treats: Check Out My Other Blog

I made some peppermint bark and candy cane stirring sticks (don't those sound yummy?) in honor of the Christmas holiday. Hop on over to my other blog, Eat Your Heart Out: A Culinary Exploration, to get the "how-to" on these super simple, yet delightfully delicious, treats.


Candy Cane Stirring Sticks






Peppermint Bark


Continued: Giving Gifts That Will Last A LIfetime

The last time I posted about "giving gifts that will last a lifetime", I spoke about teaching my daughters to have enough self respect and understanding their value so they don't follow suit of the women glorified in today's society and about wanting to teach my son what is truly attractive in a woman.

Today, I will continue talking about gifts to bestow upon my children but it wont be quite the same. This gift will help with the previous "gift". The gift of TIME is one of the most valuable things we can give our children. I mean, real, quality time doing things and investing your love and life into your kids.


It's been easy for me to say that I spend time with my kids because I'm a stay at home mom. I was convicted recently that although I'm in their constant presence, I don't SPEND TIME with them the way I should. I am always saying things like, "Sure, I'll color with you... when I'm done sweeping the floor and washing the dishes and changing poopy diapers and throwing that 15th load of laundry in." I am with my kids and taking care of them but not spending genuine time with them the way a loving mother should. I can't just take care of them. I need to pour my love into them. I can't give them gifts like self respect or role models for future wives or an ideal Christian woman if I don't spend time with them.


I've decided that each day, I need to set aside time that I spend doing something specific with them that is fun and that we can enjoy each other's company while we do it. Yesterday, we built "gingerbread" houses. I have to admit that I had a major brain fart with this project though. I decided to build these with the kids half an hour before their lunch time, which is generally immediately followed by nap time. Stupid, stupid idea. The kids ended up eating a good bit of the sugary decorations, causing them to not be hungry for lunch and way too wound up for a nap. Which, with the lack of nap and the severe crash after the sugar high made for a slightly stressful, whiny evening last night. I've learned my lesson. That is a mistake I will prayerfully never make again in my life. However, we at least had fun during the "building and decorating" process. I really enjoyed this time with the kids because we had Christmas music playing softly in the background and we actually got to talk to each other. My kids are only 3 and 2 (the nearly 6 month old baby was thankfully sleeping during all of this). But getting to talk to them is both enjoyable and entertaining. I got to appreciate the fact that my children's Sunday school teachers at church are getting through to my children. My daughter told me the story she was taught in Sunday school regarding the candy cane. We all sang songs that they've been learning in church. I found out that my kids aren't as excited about Santa as I thought they'd be. We got to SPEND TIME together and I think it was as good for me as it was for them.


This evening, after we've ALL cleaned together (they love helping me with the dishes which totally cracks me up since I hated doing the dishes as a kid), we're having a movie night, complete with warm jammies, popcorn (with m&m's in it) and hot chocolate. My parents gave the kids a set of those old Christmas movies, you know, the Santa and Rudolf and Frosty in clay-mation ones? The cool ones? I'm pretty sure I'm looking forward to it as much as they are. Breaking out the sleeping bags, turning off all the lights except the Christmas tree and snuggling together while watching movies. Sounds like a blast to me. And I'll be spending time with my kids.


There is only one person in all of history that has passed that I wish I could meet. Dad's mom. My grandmother. She died when he was 10 but he still talks about her as if she's been with him his whole life. He has always talked about her like she was this incredible, beautiful, passionate, hardworking, happy and fun woman. I wish I could have met her. She impacted him so much in 10 short years that he still to this day, over 40 years later, puts her on a pedestal. She invested in his life. I want to do that for my own children. I want to give them the gift of investing in their lives. I want to give them all the time I possibly can to impact them in a positive way that will last for the rest of their life.


You can not change your children's lives in a good way if you don't spend time with them. You can not make a positive difference in their mind and heart if you do not invest yourself and your love in them. And they really are an investment. They have futures. Their futures affect your own future (on this earth). Invest in your kids. Spend time with them. Give them gifts that will last a lifetime!
 
Merry Christmas.


My "molding" looks more like one of the kids did it.




This one belongs to my 2 yr old son. It's slightly chaotic, just like him :)



Can you see where my daughter swiped the icing with her finger?


Sunday, December 11, 2011

Recipes: Canning, Cake Balls and a Delicious Pasta

For those of you who had no idea, I have a food blog as well. I just haven't been keeping up with it the way I should. Maybe it's more along the lines of that I haven't been cooking the way I should. The blog is called Eat Your Heart Out: A Culinary Exploration. I updated it tonight though with some back recipes. I will be putting up more on that site in the next week or so. Check it out periodically just to see what I've been cooking up.

Recipes Posted Tonight (click the titles to be taken to the recipe):

Adventures in Canning: Bread and Butter Pickles, Jams, and Spicy Pickled Garlic



Red Velvet and Cheese Cake Balls:



Chicken and Spinach Penne:

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Afraid of the Dark

My heart has finally settled down. About half an hour ago, I was on edge because my poor 2 year old son was screaming in his bed because of a fear that he has recently developed. I can't say that I understand it but something about his bedroom door, whether it's opened or closed, terrifies him at night. I don't know if it's the shadows or... really, I can't think of anything else it could possibly be. I can't wait until his speech is clearer and he can tell me what exactly it is that scares him. It breaks my heart to hear him cry like that and know that something is frightening him.

My 3 year old daughter is afraid of the dark. Often, I will wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of her getting up and turning her bedroom light on just so she can go back to sleep with out being in the dark. She's told me on more than one occasion that the dark scares her.

I had very similar fears when I was little. To this very day, I hate being in the dark. I like to crack a curtain at night so the street light shines through the window into my room. Well, I really only do this when the hubby is out of town on business. When he's home, I feel safer and he can't seem to sleep with ANY light. When I was a kid, I used to dread going up to my grandfather's house in New Hampshire during the summer. Something about his air conditioner made it rattle. I didn't know what the sound was coming from back then but in my mind, I developed this incredibly creepy looking monster that hid behind the couch and I called him "The Rattle Monster". It would take me HOURS to fall asleep at his house because I was so terrified. My parents say that I rarely got scared and went into their room as a kid. Only part of that is true. I got scared a lot. However, I was SO scared that I didn't dare to get out of bed and run to their room because then I'd be out in the open and what ever was out there could get me. I couldn't tell you for the life of me what exactly it was that I was afraid of. The basement used to freak me out too. At the house we lived in when I was in elementary school had a basement that my parents had been able to finish most of. The part that they never got to though scared the living daylights out of me. It was my chore to vacuum and when I went downstairs to vacuum, I never turned my back to the part of the basement that freaked me out. And I'm sure that more than once, I just kinda "spot swept" the floors.

I've never liked watching scary movies either. I remember watching The Ring in college. There were a whole bunch of us in the room watching it and this included my little sister who was visiting for the weekend. I didn't sleep that whole night. At one point, while crammed into the tiny dorm bed that I was sharing with my sister, I purposefully "accidentally" nearly rolled her off the bed so she'd wake up and talk to me so I wouldn't be so scared. She knew I am a total chicken butt because the only thing she did was say, "Abby, go back to bed. Nothing in the movie was real." It bugs me that previews for scary movies will show some really freaky stuff on TV. If I know that that's what's being previewed, I wont look at the television. And it bothers my that there's a chance that the kids may get a glimpse of something gross or creepy.

It breaks my heart that my children are developing fears. I think it upsets me so much because I know what they're going through and I know how genuinely terrified they can get. Even if it's over the silliest things. Things that DON'T exist. What bothers me the most though, is that I haven't the slightest clue how to help them overcome these fears as children. If they're like me, they've got overactive imaginations and then anything is possible. They can create any number of monsters or scenarios in their heads. I wish I knew what to do to save them sleepless nights of sweating and trembling under their blankets like I did. I wish I knew how to help them realize that God is bigger than anything they're afraid of and that they don't need to worry because He'll NEVER let anything bad happen to them. My instinct as a mother is to protect my children. But in this situation, I don't know how.

As usual, the only answer I can come up with is prayer. Lots of prayer. Begging for God to save my children from their own imaginations. For His mercy and that He will cultivate in them attitudes of strength and courage and not of fear and timidity. Lots and lots of prayer.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Giving Gifts That Will Last a Lifetime

I was reading an article this morning on my Fox News app that was about the statistics associated with an MTV study. The study was about the negativity between the sexes presented on the network. It turns out that, in most cases by a landslide, women were much more negative towards themselves and each other in their behavior and words than men are. At first, I was shocked. Upon further thought though, it really doesn't surprise me and that's terrible. It breaks my heart that women in today's society glorify being trashy. It's really really sad.

Things that I realized years ago are now a forefront concern for me. I have two daughters and a son. I have to do my very best to equip them with the morals needed to stand up against the attacks of our society and human nature. I not only have to try my hardest to shape my daughters into self respecting women but I have to show my son what is really desirable in a woman. His well being is just as at risk here as my daughters'. Society will be fighting against them every step of the way.

I once got in an argument with guy regarding strippers. He raised the point that many women strip to make money to put themselves through college. This has got to be the sorriest excuse I've ever heard. Not only did it discredit this man in my eyes but knowing that women use that as an excuse to expose themselves to men for cash grossed me out. And I'm not sympathetic to the whole "Oh, she has daddy issues though." I did a LOT of stupid things in my life. I was rebellious and foolish and you know what? Not a single decision I made about my relationships with men or what I was doing with my life had ANYTHING to do with my dad. He was and is an incredible father. A man that I have a lot of respect for. He raised me to be of a mindset that I didn't need a man to validate me, that I didn't need to act like a hooker just to get men's attention and that NOT being in a relationship was just as good, if not better in some cases than being in one. I just didn't listen to his instruction and wisdom. I wish I had. I would have saved myself a lot of pain and frustration. So when I hear that a woman is a stripper, hooker, porn star, whatever you choose to call it, because she had "daddy issues" I have a tendency to roll my eyes.

I have people in my own life that have overcome incredible obstacles in their lives, including the negative influences of their parents, to become wonderful loving wholesome God fearing people. We are in charge of our own actions. Accountable to God alone. The foolish choices I made in my life do not reflect the parenting I received. They reflect my own insecure mind.

I'm at a point NOW though that I understand and appreciate the teachings of my parents. I have decided that, in light of the "giving holiday", that I will begging now to bestow upon my children, gifts that will last a lifetime, such as my parents did. My own children may or may not make the same foolish choices I did. But what kind of parent would I be if I didn't at least show them what the right thing to do is? What kind of mother would I be if I let my young daughters mimic the "role models" in our society? What kind of mother would I be if I didn't try to show my son that a trashy woman is not desirable? Some things I think they will figure out on their own but others, they need to be guided in. It's part of my duty as a parent. It's my duty as some one who loves them.

I WILL be coming back to this point again at another time. Women and their lack of self respect, their unnecessary promiscuity and their ability to cause men to fall is something that pains me deep into my soul. I've been there, done that, and I know the destruction it causes. I don't want my children to fall the way I did. I don't think that going through some of the experiences I went though are necessary to their growth as an individual. It is ok to learn certain things with out having to go through them firsthand.

Try to give your children gifts that will last them their entire lives. Show them how to love (not lust). Show them how to build self esteem and to overcome insecurities. Helping them understand who they are as an individual and as a valued family member will help them grow their entire lives.

"We're either growing or dying." Ellen Miller

Monday, December 5, 2011

Like Mother, Like Daughter: A Klutz in the Making

I've been wondering what my kids will be like as they get older. I watch them developing their own unique personalities but its funny how similar to their father and I they can be.

For example. My husband does NOT sit still. Or if he IS sitting still, he's doing something with his hands. He used to drive me nuts when we were first going out because if he was on the phone with some one, he could just sit in the chair and talk to them. He couldn't even stay in one room. I've watched him pace and pace and pace in the same line or circle for so long that I wondered if he'd wear a hole in the ground. My son is the same way. I can't get him to sit still to save my life. It's like they both have something inside of them that says holding still is bad. Shoot... I think that even our male boxer, Spike, is the same way. He'll pace WITH my husband. It's crazy.

My daughter, I think, is a little more like myself. I see her do a lot of the same things I did as a kid. Like color constantly. Or make up songs. Or dances. Or, and here's the kicker, she's a total klutz. Today, I watched her attempt a ballerina-like twirl and not only trip, but fall into a large pile of barbies, all of which somehow managed to have their pointy little arms sticking up and she got one caught on her gums and cut herself. Only my daughter. But it's one of the crazy random things that would happen to me as a kid.

When I was in like 7th or 8th grade, we were doing archery in P.E. I'd been shooting bows and arrows (and guns for that matter) for many years at this point. It was nothing new to me. Somehow though, I managed to let an arrow slip off the bow just as I let go of it and one of the feathers cut my finger in spite of the glove I was wearing. Here's the really random part. Part of the feather broke off in my finger, about an inch away from where it entered into my skin and lodged itself in between the tendons near my knuckle. Our general doctor wasn't able to remove it so I had to visit my dad's surgeon. Two stitches and a scar later, I've got a wacky story.

That's not all. I managed to sprain my wrist and hand tripping UP a sidewalk. I was wearing some really ugly platform sneakers (I blame my parents for that one since they paid for them), wasn't looking where I was walking, went to step up on to the sidewalk and tripped. Wore a brace on my wrist for weeks.

I was on the soccer team in high school and was running full speed with the ball and ran into Attila the Hun. Actually, I'm pretty sure we were playing the girls from the German private school that night. Well, I somehow managed to collide with one chick's shoulder with my chest and dislocated some cartilage from my sternum... you know, the cartilage that attaches the ribs to the sternum? Yeah.

We were on vacation in Deep Creek Lake, Maryland as a family and were at the beginning of a dreaded long bike ride through the woods. Really, I wasn't looking forward to this bike ride. It was supposed to be a total of 11 miles and at that age, I think I'd much rather have been a the "beach" checking out the teen age boys on the boats. However, riding we went. At one point, I saw two baby bear cubs on the trail. I was pretty far ahead of my family so I didn't mention it. My dad caught up to me on the trail though and said, "Hey, do you smell that? It smells like the hay in the barn. That's what bears will smell like. There must be one near by." I then told him about seeing the cubs. I'm assuming that when he shouted it back to my mom and sister, that he was just sharing some fun and interesting news. My mom however, being a momma bear in her own way, knew that where there are cubs, there is also a mother bear. She then yells something along the lines of, "Hey! That means the mom is around somewhere. RIDE RIDE RIDE!!!" So we rode. All of us shot down the trail. Somehow, I ended up at the back of the line and thankfully so because if someone had been behind me, I'd have taken them down with me too. The entire family made it down a very VERY small hill successfully. I didn't though. My front tire caught a tiny rivet in the dirt at just the right angle and sent me over the handle bars. I'm not sure what my knee hit but it took a HUGE chunk of meat out of my knee, down to the bone. I think I actually said, upon standing, "Hey, there's a big chunk of meat missing." Because we weren't prepared for such an accident, the only thing we had to hold the blood on the way to the store to get the proper bandages was a maxi pad. I was mortified. But no one else managed to fall off their bike... Dad told me the next day that he and mom were going to attempt the ride again but that I didn't have to if my knee wasn't up to it. Part of the deal was that my sister could stay home too if I chose to stay. Much to her dismay, I went on the ride and to this day, I'm glad I did. It was an experience I'll never forget.

I can't remember if it was that same vacation or not but we also went white water rafting at Deep Creek Lake. Also a blast. There was one point in the trip though where the guides warned us of a large rock with a small waterfall that we had to pass through. They told us that they would be getting out of their own rafts to stand on the rock and toss ropes to who ever fell out. They let us know that this was going to be the most dangerous part of the trip. We were told to stay to the right if possible and avoid the left at all costs. Somehow, we went to the left. We weren't the only ones though so I'm not about to point fingers at any one in my family. My sister, probably because she was the lightest, got tossed out almost immediately and floated down river somewhere. My mom either got thrown out also or jumped out when she saw my sister fly in order to try to help her. I also got bounced out. However, my dad managed to grab my ankle just as I went overboard. I still giggle when I think about this next part though. When I get nervous, really nervous, I laugh uncontrollably. Well, I was pretty nervous right about then. My poor dad had to think I was a stinking lunatic. My head (and probably the rest of my body) kept bobbing in and out of the water. I couldn't breath at all because as soon as I'd surface and have a small chance of sucking in some air, I'd burst into laughter. I just couldn't stop laughing. I remember doing my best not to loose my contacts and my purity ring, laughing the whole time. I look back on this and try to picture it from my dad's side. I feel so bad for him. He was probably trying to keep himself in the raft, not loose our paddles, keep an eye out for my mom and/or sister and hold on to me all at the same time. I was not help to him. I couldn't even try to get myself back in the raft because I was laughing so hard. Oh man. I'm thankful that he's such a great dad because if I'D been in his shoes, I'd have just let me go. I'm kidding. I think...

It didn't end in high school though. In college, my stupid self thought it would be fun to follow the lead of some idiot guys I was friends with and make myself pass out. I can still remember exactly how to do it. I'm just not that dumb any more. I never knew though that when you pass out in certain ways, you can have a seizure. The first time I saw it happen, I didn't realize what was going on. The guys who pulled the prank on me didn't tell me that they were doing it. I was standing at the window of some guy pals (the college I went to didn't allow guys in the girls dorm and girls in the guys dorm so if we talked through the windows) when one of the guys in the background passed out and started convulsing. I about had a heart attack. He woke up seconds later laughing. I got them to tell me how to do it and later that night, I gathered a bunch of girls in my room to do the same thing to them. SOMETIMES, instead of having a full on convulsion, your body can just kinda slam itself up against a surface and that's the extent of it. Well, this is what MY body did when I passed out. I guess I slammed myself up against the door, bruising my back against the hinge and smashing my head on the wall. I flippin cracked my skull without breaking the skin. I had a bump on my head for YEARS where a calcium deposit formed to self repair the crack in my skull. Stupid and klutzy all at the same time.

I'm STILL a klutz. When I was pregnant with my first child, the daughter in question, my husband and I were arguing. I got frustrated and turned to walk away. I didn't realize how close to the wall I was standing and when I turned, I ran face first into the corner of the doorway and knocked myself down. We stopped fighting at that point because we were both laughing so hard.

When I was pregnant with my son, we were at the Coca Cola factory with some visiting friends. I, for whatever reason, thought it'd be fun to wear a short dress and some cute platform wedges. After standing in line for about 45 minutes, we get to the front near a gentleman talking to the crowd on a microphone. As they let the next group, our group, into the museum, I tripped. Right in front of the guy with the microphone. I skinned my hands and was bleeding from both knees. The wonderful man with the microphone forgot to take it away from his mouth before helping me up and asking if I was ok... so roughly at least a hundred people heard him ask the klutzy pregnant woman if she was alright. My poor husband was both concerned and embarrassed when he realized who the guy was talking to, turned around and saw me sprawled out on the ground.

My daughter has fallen off our table and busted her chin wide open... twice. She has fallen off the swings at school backwards and cut her back. I've watched her trip over her own two feet like an uncoordinated puppy countless times. I've even seen her shoot herself in the eye with a water gun. If she's anything like me, there's no hope. She will forever be a klutz, just like her mother. I just pray that her klutziness doesn't rack up our medical bills the way I did for my parents. I also hope that she meets a man who is ok with her "flaw" and is able to find it cute and funny the way my husband does.

Wannabe Supermom. Successful Super Klutz.

Encourage One Another

This post will be quick and simple.

Last night was a really rough night for me. In many ways. Being the woman that I am, I needed to talk about it. I ended up writing last night's post, talking to my husband, my father and a few good Christian women.

I have to say that encouragement and prayer does much more for the soul than one may think. It felt so good for my husband to reassure me that I'm a good mom, despite how I felt, instead of him telling me what I should be changing or working on. It encouraged me for my father to let me know that he thinks I'm a great mom and to pass on parenting wisdom to me. It lifted my soul to know that other women were praying for me as I struggle with my journey as a parent.

If you want to be there for some one, the best thing you can do for them is listen and encourage. The last thing in the world I needed to hear was something like, "Oh, well you need to be doing this differently." or "Stop doing what you're doing because it's obviously not working." or "No way! Your kid did that? That's awful!" I didn't need to hear any of that and thankfully, I didn't. God has blessed me with some pretty wonderful people in my life.

A special thank you to my husband, for your continued support and belief in my capabilities, and my father for your encouragement and for continuing to pass on Biblical wisdom. To both of you for being loving men. I need men like you in my life, especially while trying to raise a son. I am thankful for both of you!

If you know some one who's going through something tough, pray for them today. Even if you don't tell them. You will do more good for them than you can imagine.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Still Just a Wannabe

When I started this blog, I kinda made a joke out of the whole "Wannabe Supermom" title. I wanted to be a part of an "elite" group of women who are fantastic mothers, who have happy husbands, well behaved and well rounded kids and who can do anything and everything under the sun. Like a stepford wife but with out all the fakeness. I made fun of the title but I wasn't joking about wanting to be one of those fabulous moms. It's pretty much my job. I am a wife and a mother and that's it. So I should and do want to be the best at what I do.

I didn't expect to become a Supermom over night. Actually, I pretty much figured that this would be a journey I was on till the day I die. I will never be a perfect mom and never expected to be. Doesn't mean I don't want to be. However, I never expected digression. I never expected to become a worse mother in the process.

When we had been going out for a few months, my husband got me a puppy. A beautiful female boxer which we named Stella. She was meant to be a companion for his (which became our) male boxer, Spike, and also to be a "tester". He said that we should first try raising a puppy and if we could accomplish that as a team, then maybe we could handle kids together. With that rational, I'm not sure why we ever thought it would be a good idea to have kids. She was a gorgeous puppy and she grew up into a beautiful dog. However, she has got to be one of the nuttiest dogs I've ever met. And it has taken us YEARS to calm her down and keep her on our property. I can't tell you how many times she's run away, how many crates she's broken out of, how much food she's stolen, or how many people she's flipped out on. She's a great dog now. Still a little nutty but good. I should have learned from raising her though that maybe I'm not really cut out for this whole "mom" thing like I thought I was.

Tonight showed me that I have more work to do than I realized. Tonight made me question my ability to be a good mom. I wont go into details. We'll just say that I'm "that" mom. The one who marches out of the church sanctuary in tears of embarrassment, dragging her kids behind her because one of them was SO bad during the Christmas program. Not being able to control my child in the least bit has made me wonder, "Why in the world did God think it was a good idea to give a woman like me a child... or 3...?" I've mentioned before that God doesn't give us more than what we can handle. He wont allow us to be tried or tempted beyond what He knows we are capable of dealing with. I wish I understood His thinking better. Because I have NO clue what I'm doing here. And its beginning to overwhelm me.

I used to suffer from some pretty serious depression. I tried therapy, medication, counseling and some more destructive means of "dealing". In one of my "sessions", I was once told that if I didn't like something about myself or my circumstances that all I had to do was change it. Well, I say the same thing about my (former) depression as I do with the current situation that I'm in. If I knew how to change it, I would. It's not like I  want to be in this situation. I didn't know then what exactly was wrong and I don't know now what exactly is wrong (with my parenting). I have no idea how to control my outrageously unruly 2 year old. I can not express how many different approaches I've tried. It is incredibly frustrating.

Some people say it's a phase he's going through. Well, why didn't my older daughter go through this phase? You can't tell me it's because he's a boy because I have come across, very often, extremely well mannered little boys. It's not because he's being taught to be this way. The level of craziness that pours out of this adorable child is not shown or expressed or displayed in any means in his presence. Ever.

The part that makes it the hardest is that even though I was mortified at his behavior and ashamed that my child would act like that in public, I have to repress my anger and frustration and love him. It is not easy. I mean, it's much easier in the role of mother than it is as wife or friend. Seriously. If a friend of mine acted in a manner that embarrassed me to my core or was as disrespectful, I'd just end the relationship. Can't do that with my child. Don't want to do that with my child. Will never do that with my child. But I have to not only forgive him but not dwell on his actions and move on. I have to keep hugging and kissing and teaching and disciplining. Its really not that hard because he is my little boy. It is tough though to forget the frustration and level of mortification that I experienced this evening. I have to keep fighting though. He is my little boy and I do love him with all my heart and want what's best for him.

I guess part of me always assumed that I would eventually have a moment as a mom where I'd question my ability as a mother. I was a pretty rebellious and wild adolescent. My husband had his moments too. So I just figured that one, if not all, kid would do something so off the wall or so crazy that I'd wonder where I went wrong as a parent. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

I've got a lot of praying to do, a lot of soul searching and a lot of investigating to do. Taking a microscope to my parenting skills is going to be tedious. Being conscious of every little thing I say and do and possibly changing some if not all of those things is going to take a whole lot of time and dedication. I can't say that I'm really looking forward to it. However, I don't want to miss ANOTHER (no, this is not the first one we've walked out of early) Christmas program due to my uncontrollable child. I don't want to have all the parents at the library shoot me dirty looks as I try to quench another temper tantrum. I don't want the waitress to give bad service again because she is dreading cleaning up the mess after we leave. I'm not allowing these things to happen. I'm just unable to prevent them and end them.

Tonight is a hard slap in the face with the realization that I am STILL a wannabe and far from loosing that part of the title. Some one recently complimented me by suggesting that I could be considered an "expert in my field", that field being motherhood. I laughed then but cry now because I know I'm so far from it.

Tomorrow is a new day. A new chance to do things right. Another opportunity to be a good mom. Tomorrow, I will still be a Wannabe Supermom but I'll be one with a new resolution, a new determination and a few new goals.

Search This Blog

There was an error in this gadget