Random Act of Goodness

If you are reading this, perhaps you are one of my followers. Maybe you stumbled across this post by accident, or maybe, just maybe....you are someone who has benefited by a Random Act of Goodness.


I have always dreamed of making a difference.  I've never cared how, whether it be brightening someones day or changing someones life.  It all matters.  Every act of kindness in this world matters, it makes a difference, it doesn't go unnoticed.  So in the spirit of the season of giving I have come up with my "Grand Plan" so to speak.  A chance to start a movement......Random Acts of Goodness.
So here goes.  I am going to start giving out Random Acts of Goodness and I challenge you to do the same.  Now this can be as little as letting someone who is in a hurry in front of you in line at the grocery store, or as big as buying a family in need Christmas presents for their children.  It doesn't matter what it is, like I said, It ALL matters!  Here is where the "movement" part comes in.  I am now asking you to print out the following slips of paper (right click the photo, and hit print), cut them out and keep them on hand.  When you perform a Random Act of Goodness, simply give a slip of paper to the person when they thank you.  Or if its not face to face, somehow make sure they recieve it.  Then come back to this post and comment in the comments section that you gave out a "Random Act of Goodness".  You can go into detail and say what you did or just leave it short and simple.  If you have recieved an Act of Goodness, please comment below that you have done just that.  My goal is to get at least 100 people who have gone out of their way to make a difference.  Please help me to do this, please pay it forward.

Confessions of a Soccer Mom/Coach

I just recently finished coaching my daughter's soccer team.  I'll admit I wasn't going in blind, I coached her Spring league last year so I at least had that under my belt.  Although what a difference a season can make!  When I say that I mean last season the kids were a little older, most of them already having played the previous Fall.  But this season, coaching 4,5 and 6 year olds (most of which had never played before), was certainly an...experience.

I only had six kids on my team, two girls, and four boys.  How do teachers do it with a room full of children??  I had one boy thinking he was playing tackle football, one boy (the biggest one I might add) afraid of the ball, one boy who spent more time laying on the ground than on his feet, and another that literally said "No." to everything I asked him to do.  I did have one very sweet little girl who was the youngest on the team who did everything that was asked of her, never cried when she got ran over, and was not afraid to try to steal the ball from even the biggest of players.  Now my own daughter...I will brag a little bit.  She is fantastic!  Really she is, she has so much potential and scored the majority of our goals.  But that is when she wasn't on the sidelines crying because "Mommy was playing with the other kids." or flipping cartwheels down the field, or wanted "Uppy Mommy". Seriously?? "Uppy"?!?!  I would leave wanting to pull my hair out, and then cringe because 90% of the time I was strapping the worst behaved one in the backseat of my car.  That was just practice.

Since my husband usually worked the night shift on Friday I would have to bring my whole brood to the games on Saturday morning.  I will give you a play by play of my typical experience with that whole mess:

"We arrive at the field, FINALLY, because Alex (my stepson) 'Didn't want to go to a stupid boring soccer game' and had to be dragged out the door..yes, me dragging and almost 9 year old boy kicking and screaming and stuffing him in my car!  And of course we can't forget that in the mean time Luke has sat in Jaid's car seat and even though they are basically the same thing, the princess cannot allow such an atrocity to take place. So they are slap fighting over me while I'm wrestling Alex into the middle seat belt.  After hauling Luke out of Jaid's seat, football carrying his squirming body to the other side of the car, buckling him in and sitting in my own seat, I hear "Mommy, you didn't buckle me", come out of Jaid's mouth (in her typical "tudalicious" tone).  I want to say "Are you freaking kidding me? Your six years old, stop being such a baby and buckle yourself."  But none of us wants to hear the cry fest that would ensue after that, so I reach around and do it myself.  There you have it, what should have taken five minutes has now taken twenty. 

So, YAY, we have made it to our destination!  Everyone piles out of the car and runs away leaving me to carry, the two folding chairs for the boys (which they won't sit in anyway, but God forbid they don't have the option), Jaid's drink (because she always forgets to grab it), a sweatshirt for everyone, and my own bag.  I go and drop those by the field and head off to get the balls and goals.  This is usually where my kids once again realise I exist and all come running so they can be the one to carry the ball bag or the goals.  And here comes the fight...three kids saying "gimme gimme gimme" and only two things that need to be carried.  Where were you all again when we got out of the car?  I could have used your hands then.

If you have ever set up a "pop up" goal you know what a health hazard it can be.  Pulling one out of its bag is the same feeling of anticipation you get when awaiting a Jack-in-the-box.  Never quite sure when its going to explode open because the person who used it last didn't secure it properly.  So its more like, pull it out real slow and careful, and then throw it and get out of the way!  By this time the other players have arrived, dug into the bag of balls, and are strategically kicking them at my head while I'm trying to post the goal to the ground.  While the team we are playing against are doing cute little warm-up drills on their side of the field, we are dribbling the balls around in a chaotic mass which I just chalk up to an obstacle course and make sure that every now and then they shoot the ball at the goal.  I don't want to embarrass myself by trying to be assertive when I know that at 9am, my team is waaayyyyy too hyper it even attempt to listen to me.

Now its game time!  Oh wait, I forgot that I have two boys running around somewhere in the vicinity and I try to pick them out.  You know, make sure they haven't killed each other.  They are ALIVE!, the game can go on.  So now I have three kids on the field, at least one of them whining because they wanted to play with the kid who is sitting on the sidelines, and at least one kid on the sidelines whining because they wanted to start.  I have learned to IGNORE this.  So the other team starts the ball, dribbles it two feet, just to have Jaid steal it, bring it down the field and score.  I know I should be proud, and I am, really I am.  But, after this happens five times in the first ten minutes of the game, it gets a little old.  Especially because she knows she's good, doesn't want to pass the ball no matter how many times I tell her to, and on several occasions has stolen the ball from her own team mate. Oh yes, we can't forget the show boating that comes after each goal when her Dad is there.  Where she runs off the field and he launches her into the air holding up the entire game.  I can see it now....the kid will be 16 still running off the field so Daddy can toss her in the air.  I want to crawl under a rock.  Eventually I have to pull her out of the game to give the other kids a chance...on both teams.

This is usually around the time when I hear Luke screaming bloody murder because he got creamed by Alex in the game of Tackle Football I told them not to play.  So they are sidelined for the remainder of their sister's game ( I knew I brought those chairs for a reason).  Oops, eyes on the game coach....someone other than Jaid actually has the ball, and they are dribbling toward the wrong goal!  Good thing we don't keep score.  On it goes "Stop laying on the ground.", "No pushing.", "We're not doing gymnastics out here.", "That person is on your team.", "Ewwww, don't wipe your boogers on them!"(true story).  And finally its over, kids scattering to their parents, just so I can gather them together again to line up and give high fives to the other team, but only after the arguing of who gets to be the leader this time.

I think I'm more exhausted than the kids are.  Packing up is just as bad as unpacking.  Fight over who gets to put the balls and goal away, but no one can carry our 'stuff' back to the car.  Now Jaid sits in Luke's seat to "see how he likes it", Alex doesn't want to leave with out buying candy from the snack place, Luke's mad because he didn't get to play in the game.  I JUST WANT TO GO HOME!!!  I feel like having a tantrum myself, but no, I'm the grown up."

There you have it...."A day in the life" so to speak.  So please, when you think your kids coach is cranky, or distracted, or just not doing a good enough job, just remember....they are doing the best they can.

  

I Have Been Linked!

So I'm still fairly new to this whole blogging thing and I often look to my good friend Sarah and her blog http://applepiespice.blogspot.com/ for tips, ideas, or just a good read.  While stalking her page today I came across her newest blog about a "Linky Party" where she has linked up with Mrs. Lemons from http://stepintosecondgrade.blogspot.com/ where you "Link Up" and tell all about the quirky little things that make you, you.  So I thought, now this could be fun and I joined in on the action.  So here goes.

1) I speak redneck.  By this I mean anything ending in "ing" is cut to "in", "you" often becomes "ya", instead of "get" I say "git", I condense several words into one, where "what are you" becomes "whatcha" and so on. I find this very irritating, and sometimes embarrassing  but I can't help it when I get talking too fast.



2)I love peanut butter.  I can put it on almost anything including hot dogs, bologna sandwiches, and cheese.

3) I am very girly, but my mom is not, so growing up I was taught how to ride a dirt bike, fish, camp in a tent, pee in the woods, change the oil in my car, shoot a gun, built forts, catch snakes and frogs, and go "night crawling"(hunting for worms at night).

4) As a kid, I was the fat friend.

An 8 yr old version of myself.

5) I used to have a really bad lisp which I have for the most part corrected over time, but you will never hear me say the title to the movie "The Sixth Sense"....I just can't do it.

6) I am obsessed with my giant, butt sniffing, drool flinging, constantly shedding, Newfoundland dog.  My husband swears I love that dog more than him.  I'm going to say its a tough call...lol.

Me playing with my puppy

7)I own my own cupcake business http://www.nicoleshouseofcupcakes.com/, but I have made so many cupcakes and cake pops now that the thought of actually eating them makes me gag....although they are very tasty!!!

Some of my creations. 

8) I am one of those parents that think they have the cutest kids in the entire world....only I secretly think its because my kids really are the cutest kids in the entire world!

9) I pledged a sorority in college where I had to do so many other people's dishes by hand that it cured me of my "dishwater" phobia.  I used to not even be able to put a dish in the sink for fear it would get wet and then have "dishwater" on it.

10) I have a love affair with my Kindle and I love, love, love, to read cheesy romance novels...even better if they have vampires, trolls, werewolves, zombies, angels, or any other supernatural main characters.  May I recommend "The Hollows" #1 and #2, the "Blood Like Poison" trilogy, the "My Blood Approves" trilogy, the "Trylle Trilogy", the "Tale of Lunamorte" trilogy, and of course the ever so popular "Twighlight Trilogy" and "Hunger Games Trilogy".

11) I have a gazillion cable channels but only watch HBO because I can't stand commercials.  With the exception of watching "The Walking Dead" on AMC.



12) My kids don't know the real ending to "Hush Little Baby"....I never had the heart to tell them "...down will come baby cradle and all."  So I say "...Mommy will catch you cradle and all."

13) I have a little bit of OCD when it comes to washing my hair, for some reason I absolutley CANNOT rinse it unless ALL the soap or conditioner has firsted been rinsed off of my hands....even though I'm just going to get them all soapy again when I touch my head.

Well I guess thats pretty much my quirks in a nutshell...I'm sure there are more, but I those alone are enough for you to think I'm crazy.  So now its your turn...go to http://stepintosecondgrade.blogspot.com/, and check out what this "Linky Party" is all about.



A Dedicaton to Those Gone too Soon

When you're a child, it often seems as though your entire life is a blank slate filled with unimaginable promise.  You daydream, you are inspired, you plan out your entire existence, and then change your mind and plan it out again.  You are young, untouchable, infallible.  In no ones plan do they play the part of, the "one", the "statistic", the "life cut too short".  Then it happens, that one incident a little too close to home where your ignorance is lost and you are now in a world where you are no longer immortal.

 I spent the last few days looking through some old photos.  You know, the ones where you are hugging your friends, laughing with care-free abandon,  the world is still your oyster, life is blissful.  And while flipping through I saw the faces of those that will be forever young in my mind, the faces of good friends, the faces that were my "reality check".  They paid the price, so I could learn the lesson.  Not a very good trade off if you ask me. 

So here I am, reminding all of you that there are no guarantees in life.  Do not take it for granted.  A life wasted is a slap in the face to those that lost theirs before they really started living it.  Love with everything you have and remind those closest to you everyday just how much you love them.  Take chances IN life, but not WITH your life.  Forgive, forget, move one...grudges take too much energy.  Never be too proud, or too scared to call your parents if your in a bad situation...no matter how old you are.  Don't accept anything less then what you deserve, life is too short to settle for less.  And always, always, appreciate the life you have because if fate had fallen differently, it could have been you.

Rest In Peace

Forever in our hearts.

4th of July Fun

As I think back on my childhood, I have a lot of good memories of special outings I went on with my parents.  Disney World, the Great Escape, camping, fishing, the beach, and the list goes on and on.  It truly was an "Ignorance is Bliss" experience.  I never knew the stress that came behind the scenes.

My husband and I decided to take the kids to Lake George for the 4th of July.  We spent the first hour there mini golfing at the Pirates Cove.  Luke and Jaid both made a "hole in one" and were super excited!  Although after the first swing they both seemed to go into "hockey" mode and pushed their ball into the hole with the club rather than putting it.  Then they would jump up and down, give us all a high five, and ask if there was a "next hole". ("Worth it" moment #1) Jerry even seemed to be enjoying himself and announced after the 5th hole that he would no longer be keeping score because he was kicking all of our butts.  Which was completely true, I am terrible at Mini Golf and even the kids were beating me on most of the holes.

After golf we went for ice cream where both of the kids had to get theirs in a cone even though they don't eat the cone and always end up asking for a spoon. (Which of course was true in this case as well)  At this point Jerry was starting to get antsy because the kids were getting restless and it drives him absolutely CRAZY not having them seated and well behaved.  So lets just say that he is crazy all the time..lol!  Then 2 ice cream stained,chocolate smeared cheeked children later, we were off to our next adventure. Which was the Haunted Wax Museum.  Jaid was very excited for this and put on her brave front, even asking to be lifted up if there was an exhibit she couldn't get a good look at.  While poor Luke whined and held on to Jerry for dear life through out the entire place.  At one point Jerry even thought Luke had peed himself!  Luckily he hadn't.  But all Jaid talked about for the rest of the night was how she wanted to go back through, and could we do it again next time. ("Worth it" moment #2)

By this time is was getting later and we wanted to get a good spot for the fire works, so we made our way back to the beach.  We had parked our car in one of those $10 for the day spots and Jerry walked back to get our chairs and blanket.  Several cart wheels, hand stands, bug searches, and photo shoots later he finally  returned.  It probably only took him about 20 minutes but anyone who's had to entertain a 4 and 5 year old, with nothing other than a camera, knows that can feel like a lifetime.  So now we are set!  The only problem is, it's 8:30 and the fire works don't start until 9:30.  I will fast forward what happens until then... whining, "I Spy", crying, catching bugs, Jerry is CRAZY, Jaid steps in dog poop, glow necklace ring toss, more whining, playing puppies, wrestling, screaming, Jerry is SUPER CRAZY, eating brownies, eww there's a bug on me!, "Simon Says", now the kids are fighting , mommy is mean, Jerry is going to BLOW!!!, oh look the fire works are starting. Phew!  Now I have never seen my children sit so still for such an extended period of time, they did not move an inch for the entire show, except to clap their little hands with delight. ("Worth it" moment #3)

After it was all over we packed up our things and made the trek back to our car.  Packing in the kids we start to notice that everyone is literally pulling from their spot and going for the exit.  Of course in a parking lot with 1 exit and about 300 cars, this is not working and the gridlocked mess that is happening is just insane.  So after sitting in one spot for about 30 minutes we decide to look for a different way out. We followed a car that has pulled down a section of fence.  Yup, we were "those people", but so was everyone else once they saw what was going on and now traffic was gridlocked in 2 places but luckily we were out!  So we think we caught a break.  Oh we are so silly.  Lets just say after an hour and a half of Jerry cursing, complaining, blaming me for wanting to come, swearing we would never do this again, and then some more cursing because he ran out of chew....we were finally on the high way headed home.  Did I mention I had to pee since before we got in the car?

But as I put it to him, we have to make memories for the kids.  The end of the day was really crappy but up until then it was really nice, the kids had a great time.  Through all the standstill traffic, and "venting" as I'll call it, the kids were blissfully sleeping in the back seat, completely unaware anything was amiss.  Which I am positive was the case when I was a kid, when we were all kids.  Just because it's easier to stay home and do nothing doesn't mean that that is the way to go.  So in the end I think the headache of it all was worth it. And when my kids are grown with families of their own, they too will know what goes on behind the scenes of all their treasured childhood memories.

The Little Things

Watching the simplicity of my children playing outside in the beautiful weather we had this past weekend really had me reminiscing about my own childhood.  So I took some time to reflect on the little things that I really missed about being young and carefree.

20 things I took for granted as a kid :

1) Running barefoot through the grass.
2) Catching frogs in a pond.
3) Building forts in the woods.
4) The "Magic Mommy Fairy" cleaning up after me.
5) Having someone to do my laundry.
6) Riding in the car and not having to pay attention to where I was going.
7) Having no responsibilities other than existing.
8) Playing "Hide and Seek" in the dark.
9) Sleepovers
10) Going to the "Drive-ins" with my Dad.
11) Going camping every weekend in the summer.
12) Swimming in my Grandma's pool.
13) Believing in Mythical Creatures
14) Living in the middle of no where.
15) Riding a dirt bike.
16) Seeing my best friends everyday.
17) Believing in magic.
18) The healing power of a "kissed boo boo".
19) Catching fireflies.
20) Not caring if my hair was brushed when I left the house.

I'm sure I could sit here and think of 20 more things I miss about being young.  That is why I keep telling my kids to cherish everyday and stop wishing away their youth, adulthood comes too fast and there is no rewind button.

Mom, I'm Bored!

I seem to have been stressed to the max this last week with the kids being on Spring break.  Not that I'm with them all day long, no, I get to kiss my desk every morning.  But going home to a messy house, 3 bickering kids with a lot of pent up energy, and 110 lb puppy who is just as excitable, has really brought me to my boiling point.

 But nothing seems to have irked me more though than the phrase, "I'm bored".  When it comes to "things", my kids are spoiled.  They have a Playstation2, a Wii, a DS, rows upon rows of movies, 700 cable channels, rooms over flowing with various toys and games, a walk in closet dedicated to arts, crafts, and coloring supplies.  Then we go outside and find a basketball hoop, a two story clubhouse, a sandbox, every different kind of ball you could imagine, bicycles for everyone, sidewalk chalk, bubbles, and the list goes on and on.  But I still get an "I'm bored". 

When I was young I was not allowed to have video games, playing outside if it wasn't below freezing was mandatory, chores were a daily activity, and the 2 channels that "sort of" came in on the TV weren't worth watching.  When I had children I had decided I didn't want to turn out to be a "mean parent" and make my kids do the mundane things I found to be "dreadful" or "boring" or deprive them of anything I had wanted as a child.  But I see now that those things are necessary for shaping ones character.  I have turned my children into lazy, snotty, little brats, that think the world should be handed to them on a silver platter, and have no idea how to use their imaginations! 

How will I fix this?  Well, I do have a plan.  The "Mean Mommy" shall surface and rooms will be cleaned out, video game and movie stock piles will be depleted, chores will be assigned, TV will be limited, and if I hear the words "I'm bored" they will be scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush!  I know, I am a big talker, and when it comes down to it, it will probably be more of a gradual work in progress, yes, my finger are crossed for progress.  

 My children have been too sheltered and spoiled, and its time to actually do something about it.  I'm sure they will enjoy the fishing, camping, and hiking trips my husband and I have planned for this summer.  And they will detest the chore charts, reading time, toy elimination, losing privileges for bad behavior, and my personal favorite "soap in the mouth" for bold words, that is also on the agenda.  If there is anything I have learned so far, its that parenthood is an ever evolving journey, and no one can do it perfectly.  That sometimes its OK to be the "meany" and have your kids say they hate you because they can't have what they want.  In the end I wasn't put here to be their "friend", I am their parent, their role model, the one who is ultimately responsible for who they become, and it's time I put on my big girl pants and started acting like it!

So I guess I will keep you all informed as to how this one goes........Wish me luck!!



Cutting the Cord

My baby boy is growing up.  Now when I say "baby" I use the term loosely, as he will be four in May.  But there is just something about letting the last one go that I am totally unprepared for.  Perhaps it's because as I am making the final curtain call on my baby days, my closest friends are just entering theirs.  Or maybe its the feeling of no longer being completely depended upon, or even the thoughts that time is just going by too quickly.

With my daughter, I rushed her through her baby days after my son was born.  I didn't have the time or the patience for two kids under two and thats just what I had.  By the age of 2 1/2 Jaid was dressing herself with little help and just about potty trained.  She walked on her own two feet when we went places, had to ride in the back of the shopping cart, and I often asked her to help me out with small tasks.  When bold, she was put in Time Out and forced to sit at the dinner table until her vegetables were gone.  But she was happy being the "Big Girl" and liked to do big girl things. 

Luke, well lets just say he has gotten to be a "baby" alot longer.  Being the youngest, both my husband and myself have always gone easiest on him, didn't expect as much, or push him as hard.  To say he is spoiled would be an understatement.  Looking back I realize this has hindered him far more than helped him.  He just recently finished his potty training, still has no clue on how to dress himself and no desire to learn, throws a tantrum at dinner time when there isn't something he likes on his plate, and usually doesn't get punished until he's on his third "last chance".  So for my own selfish reasons I have been, in fact, harming my child by not preparing him for the real world.

This must change and slowly I have been taking the steps to let him go as a baby, because if I really admit it to myself, he has even surpassed the toddler stage.  It's time I "cut the cord" so to speak.  He is completely capable of putting on his own shoes, he does not need me to carry him through the parking lot, and no matter how much he cries and carries on cookies are not a suitable breakfast food.  Just because he will always be MY baby, doesn't mean he has to BE a baby.  So as I say goodbye to my last "Little One" I will embrace the Big Boy who will emerge in his place.  There are many more wonderful milestones still to come, and I will enjoy everyone of them.



I've Let It All Go

I woke up Monday morning feeling refreshed.  Tuesday I felt light as a feather.  Today, as though each breath was fresh spring air.  I couldn't figure it out, couldn't quite put my finger on it, until just now.  I realized that I have let it all go.

When I say this, I mean I have finally stopped living in the past.  I realized that I had been walking through life only half in the game, longing everyday to take back those "missed opportunities", and "could have beens".  But who says that it ever "could have been"?  Who says that if I had taken a different path in life somehow it would have turned out perfect.  I could be living a completely different life and wishing for the things I have now.  Three happy healthy kids, a husband who (although has his faults) adores me, a faithful family dog, a house with a yard...hell, I even have a white picket fence!  These things don't come to everyone, some would even say that I am living the "American Dream", and yet somehow, someone as unappreciative as myself, ended up with this life. 

 I am seeing my life through new eyes which, I know, is such a cliche, but that's the only way I can describe it.  I don't know how it happened, or exactly when it happened, but I am so glad it did.  I am the only one who has been making me miserable.  Don't get me wrong I have always loved my children and husband, but I was ignorant enough to think that my life wasn't good enough.  I my not have seen all the things I have wanted to see or done all the thing I have wanted to do, but who has?  I'm only 28, I'm not dead!  I can still go out and have my adventures, only I will be able to share them with those I hold so dear....my family. 

So now that I have this new outlook, this wonderful feeling of rebirth, what will I do with it?  I will bask in it, I will share it, I will put forth my efforts on the here and now.  The is past is gone, it cannot be changed, only learned from.   There aren't any "could have beens", not anymore, not for me.  Changing my past regrets doesn't mean that I wouldn't have made new regrets.  I am sure in the future I will still make mistakes, have new trials to over come, and yes regret some of my decisions.  But for now, I am going to enjoy the present, let the past be the past, and just let it all go.



Everytime I Think About it, I Laugh.

Over the years I have always been so amused with some of the thing that has come out of my daughter's mouth.  Just the way her little mind works, or the way she takes things so literally at times cracks me up.  So I thought I would share with you some of comments that she has made and why they make me laugh every time.

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At 18 mos old I decided it was time to potty train my daughter.  I bought her the potty, the pull ups, I mean we were ready to go!  The first morning of our endevor she woke up with a dry diaper so I figured this was as good of time as any to get started.  When I told her to sit on the potty and try to go "pee pee" she did without hesitation.  I clapped and cheered, which she got the biggest kick out of.  She then looked up at me with determination in her eyes and said, "I go again Mommy."  A moment later her little face fell, and she was ever so disapointed when stated very matter of factly, "Mommy, it broken." 

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When my daughter was very young, she and I would always play the same game in the car to keep her occupied.  Everytime she closed her eyes I would act all worried as though she had disappeared, and say over and over again, "Where are you?", as she giggled non stop.  Then, of course, when she opened her eyes again, I would act so very relieved.  One day while playing this I asked, "Where are you Honey, I can't see you?"  and she ever so cleverly replied "Mommy, I'm hiding in my eyes!"

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When I was growing up my grandmother was a stickler for never "taking the Lords name in vain".  So I figured it couldn't hurt to bestow this same value in my children.  I made sure to always correct them if they said "Oh my God" to say "Oh my gosh".  My daughter really took to this and I rarely had to correct her.  At around age 3 she was out on the porch with her grandmother.  There was a beautiful windchime that the two were admiring.  I was watching through the glass so I couldn't hear what they were saying, but my daughter was getting very excited.  She soon came skipping in through the door and came right up to me exclaiming "Mommy, gosh is talking to me!"  I started laughing and went out to ask my mother in law what my daughter meant.  She explained to me that she had told my daughter that every time the windchime chimed, it was God talking to her.

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A while back my then 4yr old daughter asked me how babies got into a mommies tummy.  Not wanting to give her "the Talk" that young I told her what I was told around that age.  That when 2 people really love each other and want a baby, they ask God.  I then added my own tid bit about how God then takes a little bit of the Mommy and a little bit of the Daddy, mixes them together to make a baby, and puts the baby in the mommy's belly.  She seemed to be completely satified with that answer and went on her merry way.  Not that long ago, now at age 5, my daughter asked if her stepfather and I would ask God for a sister for her.  I explained to her that we couldn't have anymore babies because just like a doggy would "get fixed" her step father was fixed.  So then remembering back to what I had told her she then said, "Well I love you Mommy, I'll have a baby with you." 

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I hope I made you smile and please feel free to share some of your own stories in the comments section!



Ok...I'll say it, "Mom.... you were right"

The very phrase "Mom, you were right", makes me cringe internally.  It's the words I always vowed would never cross my lips, and the one sentence my Mother has been waiting with bated breath to hear.

As a child, as most kids do, I idolized my Mom.  She knew everything!  I could ask her anything and she always knew the right answer.  As a teenager all that went out the window.  This was the time in my life that I was convinced I was a genious!  My mom was old, out dated, and most of all Stupid.   How on earth did she know what it was like to live my life?  How could she possibly know anything about anything...I mean come on, she's a  Baby Boomer for goodness sakes.  None of that could compare to the life experiences of a 16 yr old.  Or so I thought.

So here it goes..."Mom, you were right."  It did not kill me to have only three TV channels and no video games, as I claimed it would.  In fact, it forced me to use my imagination, to get off the couch and venture outside, to discover and learn new things.  "Mom, you were right."  My friends didn't think less of me for not having brand name everything.  It taught me to appreciate when I am able to buy nice things.  "Mom, you were right."  I was not completely shattered beyond repair after my first heart break.  There really are "other fish in the sea".  "Mom, you were right."  Having a part time job in high school was actually good for me.  It taught me the value of a dollar.  "Mom, you were right."  Moving out at 19 and working a full time job while going to school did make my life alot harder than it had to be.  I could have saved myself alot of time and money if I had listened to you and lived at home while I went to school.  "Mom, you were right"  I do see everything differently now that I am a parent myself, which has enabled me to finally say the words, "Mom, you were right." 

But unfortunately life is full of these lessons that we have to learn for ourselves.  No matter how many times I was told what the end result would be, I refused to listen, and usually still do.  Now raising my own children I understand the infuriating frustration.  No matter how many stories of "been there, done that", I relay to them, they look at me as though I am a complete idiot.  So they too will, (as my mom likes to put it), "Touch the stove, when its hot.  Even though you just told them not to."  They will have to live and learn as we all have, and one day I hope to hear the words as well, "Mom, you were right."

My Mom

         The "Yeah Right" face my mom got ALOT!

I Was Nominated?!?

One of my bestest friends, and fellow blogger Sarah, has nominated little ole' me for the Versatile Blogger Award!!  Not only that but if it wasn't for the inspiration I got through reading her fabulous blog http://applepiespice.blogspot.com/ (a must read) I wouldn't even have been opened up to the wonderful world of blogging.  So thank you from the bottom of my heart!  You truly are a great friend. 

So here goes....
Now as the rules go after (1), thanking the nominator and (2),posting a link to their blog I am (3) to tell you about 15 of the blogs/bloggers that I follow or have discovered. Unfortunately since I have 3 young children, a full time job, a dog, and a husband I don't have that much free time.  So I will list the 3 that I do follow and the 4 that I have recently come across. Here they are in no particular order.

http://applepiespice.blogspot.com/ 
http://speakerspeakingincode.blogspot.com/
http://awinsomejourney.wordpress.com/
http://www.thefarmchicks.typepad.com/
http://www.raisedincotton.typepad.com/
http://diyhshp.blogspot.com/
http://smashedpeasandcarrots.blogspot.com/

Next (5), I am to tell you 7 things about myself.  Well we all know how much I like to hear myself talk so :

1) I am obessed with cheesy vampire romance novels.
2) I believed in the "Boogy Man" until I was 16.
3) I learned how to ride a dirt bike when I was 7, and I still can.
4) I was an a teenager before I knew milk was an option on cereal...but I like it better dry.
5) I think my house is haunted.
6) If left unchecked, I would become a hoarder.  (I have trouble throwing away ANYTHING!)
7) I could eat pizza every meal, every day, and never get sick of it.

Well thats all folks,  and once again, thank you Sarah!

My Perfectly Imperfect Children

From the time I found out I was pregnant until my children were born, I spent months planning their lives out for them.  I would imagine what they would look like, how they would act, their interests and dislikes.  Boy was I in for a reality check!

As far as looks were concerned my daughter set the bar pretty high.  She really was a beautiful baby, even as a new born.  So you can imagine my reaction when my son was born and he was the wrinkly, alien looking thing, that is more often the norm.  I remember lying there on the operating table (I had him cesarean) and seeing him for the first time.  I hate to admit it, but the first thing that came to my mind was, "Really?? That is not what I expected."  He did however become very adorable once he filled out, his eyes stayed uncrossed, and his blotchy rash cleared up.

My daughter 1 day old

My son 1 day old

My son looking much more adorable

Personality wise, my sweet baby girl was nothing like I had planned.  She was suppose to be polite, cheerful, outgoing...you know, sugar and spice and everything nice?  I was so naive I want to laugh at myself.  Not that my daughter was an evil toddler, she wasn't.  Although, she was whiny and could turn on tears like the flip of a light switch.  Instead of being out going she was clingy, and the only person that "Her Majesty" would allow do anything for her was, of course, Mommy.   She had also inherited her father's temper and my stubbornness, a lethal combination for any parents' patience!

My daughter "painting"

With my son I had less expectations in advance having learned previously from my daughter.  He turned out to be a sweet and loving baby, but apparently he didn't understand the concept of "crying it out".  He could cry for hours if he was upset about something the only thing that calmed him down was being held.  Where my daughter loved to be sang to, my son gave me a complex.  Even as an infant he would start crying when I sang to him at night.  When he got older and I would sing fun songs in the car, he would start screaming "NOOOO, Dop it Momma!!!!"  I was, however, lucky that my son could occupy himself for long periods of time while my daughter needed constant intereaction.  On the other hand, things that came easy for my daughter such as language, my son struggled with.  At eighteen months old we had him evaluated for speech and in a pride swallowing moment, I had to admit that he would need special education services.

A very happy go lucky child.

As they got older I would often worry: Did I have the only five year old little girl with the attitude of a 15 year old diva?  Or was my son the only three year old that carried his sippy cup around like a security blanket, whose matchbox cars had the personalities of people, and used the "D" sound to start every word?  But as my children have grown into the little people that they are today, I have grown as well.  I have realized that no ones children are "perfect", especially mine.   It no longer matters to me that my son needs extra help with words and learning, I'm just happy that he is healthy and that there is a system in place to help him.  I have learned to sit back and take a deep breath when my daughter is upstairs having a tempur tantrum so explosive, that pictures start falling off the walls downstairs. I know I'm not the only one out there with a drama queen for a daughter.

My son in his sister's heels.

My daughter the "Diva"

 As life goes on I have come to terms that they may not become anyone close to who I had planned for them to be.  The best I can do for them as a parent is support them in their endevors. Yes, this means even when my three year old son puts on his sister's tutu and prances across the floor exclaiming "Look Mommy, I a Princess" I will be there to help guide them when they ask, and put in my two cents when they don't.  To love them, no matter what, because if I don't stick with them through the bad times, I can't appreciate the good times.  Most importantly try to stay sane along their journey to adulthood, as the saying goes "Grandchildren are Gods reward for not killing your kids!".

The moments that make it all worth while!



Missing Half a Life

When my daughter was born, it was one of the best days of my life.  I held her in my arms and spent every waking hour just drinking her in.  Her smell, her sounds, her precious little face...it was all heavenly.  I would often find myself day dreaming about the things we would do, the places we would go, all of it of course hand in hand. 

Those dreams changed when I left her father (It was not a situation where I could have stayed).  She was only five months old and as the courts put it, it was no longer the times of "every other weekend".  If a father was deemed fit, and wanted to be a major part of their childs' life, he would get to share physical custody.  For those of you who haven't been through are arduous and gut wrenching process that is Family Court, shared physical custody meant that I would have her literally fifty percent of the time. 

I came from a split parent home, so I thought I had an idea of what things might be like.  That was not the case.  I knew what it was like from a childs' point of view to go from one household to the other.  After a time it just becomes normal.  But from a parents' point of view, I was completely ill-equipped.  Shattered, distraught, irrevocably heart broken, these were only a few of the momentous amount of emotions coursing through me.   I had to go from being with my daughter every moment, to going two or three days at a time with out seeing her.  Every day apart was like breathing without air, moving without limbs, like the very core of my being had been cut out and placed on a shelf just out of reach.  I would go through the motions of the day and then cry myself to sleep.

As the months went on I was able to shut off some of these emotions, to ignore them, bury them, place my efforts elsewhere. What ever it took to dull the ache. When I was with her, I tried to cherish every moment.  I would sneak into her room at night, pick her up from her bed and just rock her.  Once again taking in her smell and warmth in hopes that it would be enough to last, to fill the void that was inside me in her absence.  It was never enough.

In the mean time I had met someone.  He too, knew what it was like share a child with someone else.  I think this is part of the reason I was drawn to him.  We were inseparable, he was good to my daughter, and when we were all together with our children it felt like a real family.  My daughter was only twenty months old when we had our son.  I tried to play it off as though I was having a wonderful pregnancy, even to my closest loved ones.  All the while inside me was a battle, forged by those crippling emotions I tried so hard to forget as they were brought to the surface by the mere presence of my swollen belly.  Once my son was born, of course I loved him unconditionally.  But to me, he was often a double bladed sword.  On one hand he was perfect, and sweet, and lovable, I enjoyed so much being a mother to him. On the other hand, every milestone he reached before my eyes, every night that I tucked him into bed, was a constant reminder of what I had missed with my daughter.

My daughter is now five.  My husband and I have joined our familes, bought a house, and settled in to raise our children in the best way we can.  Though my youngest son is a constant fixture, I get my daughter every other week, for a week at a time.  My husband gets the same with his son.  I have forced myself to operate within these two different lives, the one with my daughter, and the one with out.   For my daughter, this is normal, she has known nothing else.  Yes, there are the times when she will see a photo of her father and I together, and on come the questions and the tears.  I often cry right along with her.  Not for the life that "might have been" as she does, I know my husband is the person I was meant for.  No, I grieve for the fact that I will always be missing half of her laughter and smiles, skinned knees and broken hearts, questions and concerns...half of her life.

My daughter and I.

My Nemesis, My Friend...My Sister

"Sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship.  They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust."  ~Erica E. Goode


There has never been a time when my sister and I have been together and someone has said, "Now you two must be sisters." Our features are different, we have diverse fashion senses, and extremely dissimilar interests.  We are the very personification of opposites.  But in every way that matters, we are...sisters.

It seems we have always had what you would call a love/hate relationship. In our childhood scuffles, I was always considered the meeker of us two.  My sister loved to torture me relentlessly over anything and everything.  I, on the other hand, would feel bad if I hurt her feelings, and was always the first to relent in a good ole' fashion slap fight.  But heaven forbid someone picked on me on the bus or at school, she was the first one there to stick up for me.  Although, there were peaceful times when we were able to play Barbies and make believe for hours before it turned into"MOM!!! she said this..." or "MOM!!!! she did that...".

As the years passed and we became raging hormonal teenagers, our dislikes turned into all out hatred.  We battled over boys, clothes, and makeup, made up rumors, and told lies. Every once in a while we would call a "truce" and tell each other secrets and stories that we thought other sisters told each other.  Then a week later get mad and tattle to our parents everything we had learned in the utmost confidence.  I remember my own personal "best" was when my sister let me cut her bangs.  I thought she looked particularly pretty that day, and lets just say I fixed it!  To this day she is still reluctant around me with a pair of scissors.  My sister on the other hand was a little more upfront about things like that.  On more than one occasion I just got punched for doing something, saying something, or acting in a way she disapproved of.

While my sister was interested in riding dirt bikes, hunting, and horses, I liked hanging out with my friends, dresses, and shopping.  These differences also led us down separate paths after high school.  I went to college because I wanted "that experience".  My sister went to work with horses because that was her dream.  There was a time when we only interacted at family get togethers, or to wish each other a happy birthday.  I could feel the gap.  I missed my sister, and the hectic turmoil our relationship brought with it.  It was not that many years ago that we started to become close again, though we are still polar opposites.  I now have a desk job, babies, and a husband.  My sister still works outside with horses, is very content just having a neice and nephews, and has no interest in marrying her longtime boyfriend. 

It is only as an adult that I can fully appreciate the childhood we had together.  I can be thankful that we still have one another.  Most importantly, I know that we love each other unconditionally dispite what we have done to each other, in only a way sisters can.

My sister giving a toast at my wedding.

My Heart Wears Velcro Sneakers

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a mom.  At the time it didn't mean anything more to me than the superficial things.  You know, dressing up my little girl in the prettiest dresses and then pushing her around in a stroller to show her off.  The possibility of having a boy never even crossed my mind.

My daughter at 1 yr old

At twenty two I had my daughter.  While it wasn't the fairy tale circumstance, she was my fairy tale baby, seven pounds, three ounces of pure beauty.  Her head was covered in a thick cap of silky hair, her skin was cream and roses, she had eyelashes that went on for miles, and the most perfect little nose.  It was love at first sight.

My daughter at about 5 months

Then somewhere amidst my princess pink, baby powder scented world, reality hit.  I was now responsible for this precious little life.  How on earth was I going to teach her right from wrong, turn her into a decent woman, heck, get her home from the hospital with out something bad happening to her?!?  I found myself seeing everything with new eyes.Life was no longer just about me, and the uncertainty of it all was terrifying.  I remember watching one of those "end of the world" movies that I had previously seen half a dozen times.  This time around I cried through the entire thing imagioning what I would do if that were to really happen.  Normal baby milestones were even teeming with peril, (or so I thought).  Solid foods were a choking hazard, walking was a falling hazard, and stairs...forget about it, I carried her!  If I could have wrapped her in bubble wrap and pre-chewed her food, I would have.

My daughter and I

When my daughter was eleven months old I found out I was pregnant again.  This came with mixed emotions.  More than one child was something I had always wanted, but the thought of being able to love someone else the way I loved my baby girl was beyond me.  I soon learned I was having a boy.  This meant shopping for all new clothes for him, something I had enjoyed greatly when I was pregnant with my daughter.  It just wasn't the same.  Many times I would find myself feeling down right sick with the pressure of it all.  I would have to leave the clothing department just so I could put my mind on something else.

When my son was born, all my fears about a lack of love disappeared instantly.  One look at that little face and I realized I didn't have to take any love away from my daughter to love my son, he already had his very own spot.  My heart had just gotten bigger to accomodate it all.  My children have become little pieces of my heart, around 3 ft tall, walking around outside of my body in tiny velcro sneakers.  When they hurt, I hurt.  When they cry, I cry.  But I also experience their joy, marvel at the wonderment they find in every new discovery, and bask in their achievements right along with them.

                                                     My son and I 2008                   My stepson, daughter and son 2008

My daughter age 3

   My son age 2

Motherhood thus far has been an exciting, emotional, and frightening journey that I wouldn't trade for anything.  So everyday I resist the urge to clothe my children in body armour before sending them out into the world.  Then I remind myself that when they were born, I gave them each a piece of my heart, and when I collect them at the end of the day, I will once again be whole.

The pieces of my heart and me.