Commence Christmas Shopping

Before I became a mom, I viewed toy shopping differently. Squirting toys meant fun in the bath and any toy that made some kind of noise would be a huge hit. Once I became a parent myself, I learned that squirting bath toys can get mildew trapped inside and those noisy toys take a long time to kill the batteries they're running on.

Often times a toy looks good in theory, but when put into practice, it turns into quite the disaster. Take the sand and water tables, for instance. Sand on one side, water on the other. Pre-mom thinking says "What an ingenious idea!" Post-mom says "Well, that's going to just go from sand & water to mud!" Water sprinklers made for the bathtub means water all over the bathroom. Extravagant Lego buildings mean spending 9 hours putting it together and then watching your kid tear it apart in 30 minutes. Hungry Hippos bought for the older sibling may require a trip to the ER when the youngest one swallows a marble. Instrumental recorders...I'm wincing at the day that I bought those for the kids I used to babysit. Sorry Marisa...I didn't realize what I was getting you into!

I've also found that it's impossible to do any kind of Christmas shopping with kids in tow. No matter how I've tried to hide what they are getting under other gifts or clothes, Sean still manages to point it out and question why it's in the carriage. Even if he doesn't see what I'm actually buying, he certainly doesn't miss all the stuff I'm not buying.

Then I discovered Amazon. Most items qualify for free shipping if you spend over $25 so shopping online has become financially comparable to shopping at the store. I will admit, I'm rather amazed at how it sucks you in. I search for 'building blocks' and then they suggest other items I might like, which leads to a loss of about an hour or two that can be compared to a visit to the Twilight Zone.

I used to have to deal with finding a parking spot or running to 6 different stores for one thing that no one seems to have. Gone are the days of hiding purchases from curious eyes and public tantrums over the decision to pass on the latest toy craze. This year, I think I'll be saner shopping in my pajamas, complete with fuzzy slippers and a cup of cocoa. With the promise of having a more relaxed holiday season, I'm actually looking forward to it this year.

Commence Christmas Shopping

Before I became a mom, I viewed toy shopping differently. Squirting toys meant fun in the bath and any toy that made some kind of noise would be a huge hit. Once I became a parent myself, I learned that squirting bath toys can get mildew trapped inside and those noisy toys take a long time to kill the batteries they're running on.

Often times a toy looks good in theory, but when put into practice, it turns into quite the disaster. Take the sand and water tables, for instance. Sand on one side, water on the other. Pre-mom thinking says "What an ingenious idea!" Post-mom says "Well, that's going to just go from sand & water to mud!" Water sprinklers made for the bathtub means water all over the bathroom. Extravagant Lego buildings mean spending 9 hours putting it together and then watching your kid tear it apart in 30 minutes. Hungry Hippos bought for the older sibling may require a trip to the ER when the youngest one swallows a marble. Instrumental recorders...I'm wincing at the day that I bought those for the kids I used to babysit. Sorry Marisa...I didn't realize what I was getting you into! 

I've also found that it's impossible to do any kind of Christmas shopping with kids in tow. No matter how I've tried to hide what they are getting under other gifts or clothes, Sean still manages to point it out and question why it's in the carriage. Even if he doesn't see what I'm actually buying, he certainly doesn't miss all the stuff I'm not buying.

Then I discovered Amazon. Most items qualify for free shipping if you spend over $25 so shopping online has become financially comparable to shopping at the store. I will admit, I'm rather amazed at how it sucks you in. I search for 'building blocks' and then they suggest other items I might like, which leads to a loss of about an hour or two that can be compared to a visit to the Twilight Zone.

I used to have to deal with finding a parking spot or running to 6 different stores for one thing that no one seems to have. Gone are the days of hiding purchases from curious eyes and public tantrums over the decision to pass on the latest toy craze. This year, I think I'll be saner shopping in my pajamas, complete with fuzzy slippers and a cup of cocoa. With the promise of having a more relaxed holiday season, I'm actually looking forward to it this year.

Wild Imaginations and Dark Places

I am currently on vacation, visiting my family in Tennessee. Compared to where I live, they live in the middle of nowhere, and with my imagination, that is a rather good place to let it run wild. So far, I've warded off my usual nightmares and have slept pretty good...that was until my parents went away for the night to celebrate their anniversary and I realized I feel a lot safer in the house when my dad is sleeping in it.

I awoke from a frightening dream only to hear a suspicious noise. When I looked out the window, all I could see was a cloak of darkness and I involuntarily thought of every single scary movie that I have ever seen. That was at 2am. I started to doze off an hour after my freakish encounter with the night time view in my father's backyard. Cue Rex and his guard-dog bark, a barking that kept up for a good 3 minutes, though even one solitary bark would've thrown me into just as much of a panic. Though he fell silent and I saw that nothing was there, I was completely freaked out at that point and refused to allow my eyes to shut until the light of the morning sun started to shine over the hills. Logically, I thought, all the scariest parts of those damn movies were at night, so if something bad is going to happen, it will happen before the sun rises. Not logical at all, I know, but I'm wired out from fear and starting to get a tad pissed at myself for even allowing it to get to this extreme, though I will reiterate: one girl with a wild imagination, in the middle of nowhere and it's one dark night. Not a pleasant equation, if you ask me, but then again, I could be biased...I'm that girl!

It is now almost 5am. I'm silently willing that giant star to move across the Earth and start waking up so that I may attempt to fall asleep. I'm also praying that both of my boys will decide today is a sleep-in day. Of course, I pray with an acceptance that God might just tell me no...if I can just fall asleep in the next 30 minutes, at least I'll get in one long cat nap!

Freedom of Time

First & foremost, I would like to extend an immense amount of gratitude to all those who fought for our freedoms, who left their families behind to fight for all the liberties that ours have today. To all the soldiers, past, present & future, God bless you! It is wasn't for you, I may not have the freedom to express myself here today.

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It has been quite awhile since I've had a chance to sit down to write. I probably could've done a few simple sentences here and there, but I know that is only a good idea in theory. The moment I sit down to write even a sentence, a whole blog of sentences spills out onto the keyboard. Then, before I know it, I've stayed up a whole lot later than I intended.

Today I have a whole month's worth of inspiration flowing through me, though most of it was acquired in the last week. Going on, in detail, about the last month would require alot of time. I spent the entire weekend focusing on my boys.
Create awesome memories for the 4th of July?
Check.
Clean the house & pack for me & two kids?
Definitely not checked.
Our flight leaves for Tennessee in 36 hours. That ticking wall clock, as usual, is my enemy. Since I have so much to do in so little time, I'll make this short & sweet.

Life can be amazing. It sure can throw a mean curve ball sometimes, but the most important thing to do, every day of your life, is to live it like it's going to be your very last. I have been attempting to practice this philosophy all my adult life and for most of it, I have succeeded. But I'm sad to admit that there were stints of time that I ran through my days in a haze, when I wouldn't let Sean stop to pick the dandelion and let him blow it in the wind. That isn't to say that we had a rush of days every day, but there were enough in which there was no "wasted time". I thought I would be able to slow down the moving hands, and really enjoy my kids, especially with Connor growing up through his first year. As I watch him crawling around, eating on his own and playing with his older brother, I am baffled by the fact that he's already nine months old. I feel like I had a baby for a week! Then I look at Sean and realize he's going to be 4 and it dawns on me how fast the days are going by. Even looking back over this last month, I can't believe it's already July!
In the passed 30 days, I've been making amazing memories, spending good time with friends and family, sharing the most precious thing of all...time.
Life. It's precarious. Like the fireworks exploding in the sky right now, that is how our life is: big... brilliant...beautiful. And over before we know it.

Life is about falling in love and getting your heartbroken, it's about forgiving yourself when you're the one who did the breaking; about loving and losing; about making tough decisions and making easy ones; about letting go and moving on. Sometimes it's about not listening to someone else and just following your heart. Other times, it's about taking good advice. No one is perfect, but most of us have good intentions. We are going to fall, then get back up, then most likely fall again. We all get hurt. We all suffer. We all have baggage. We've all had successful attempts at something, only to have it followed by a failure of a different nature. But we also have these amazing things called emotions, and they let us scream and yell or cry or break into tiny hysterics with your best friend over the 'funniest thing ever!'
I'll admit it: I sometimes find myself chuckling over something that happened forever ago...Who cares if I look a little schizophrenic, quietly laughing to myself. It was a good memory.

There is something magical in every day life, something extraordinary in the ordinary everyday. That's what this blog is really all about...I'm telling you to stop. I'm telling you to look. I'm telling you that when you make time, you can stop time, even if just to freeze a moment to go back to in memory someday. Because in the end, nothing will matter more in death than knowing that you lived. In the end, when you have time to look back on your life, what will you see on rewind?

Sun Safety: The Danger of a "Healthy Glow"

This morning I woke up and fell into the normal routine. I got the kids settled with breakfast & cartoons, had my coffee and did a couple of chores. Once Connor was down for a nap, I thought I'd take a quick shower while Sean was still engrossed in Word World. While standing in the mirror, I noticed a little scratch on my neck and I leaned in closer to investigate. That's when I noticed a nearby mole had changed drastically since the last time I'd done an all over skin check. I poked it and inspected it, trying to see if maybe my son had accidentally scratched it and maybe it was just irritated from a close-call in-home biopsy, courtesy of baby fingernails. But it didn't hurt, wasn't bleeding or scabbed over and just looked strangely different.

Always the hypochondriac, I phoned my doctor's office, but couldn't get in until tomorrow afternoon. Now it's probably nothing, but my first instinct screamed, "it's melanoma! get a diagnostic test immediately!" My rational husband made a good point when he said that I'm weaning our son from nursing and it's possible that it's hormonal changes...My I'd-rather-be-safe-than-sorry mentality still made the appointment.

I will be honest here; I wasn't always safe about the sun. I'm sure I sported a sunburn or two as a child, and I visited tanning salons in the past. I wasn't smart about the sun then, and used to believe that tanning beds were safer than sun exposure. I wasn't 'tanorexic', but I had gone maybe 10-15 times, enough to exponentially raise my risk for melanoma. When the summer came, I would always apply SPF 8, enough to tan without burning, thinking that burning would cause skin cancer and that as long as I saw brown, and not red, after a day at the beach, I was safe. During our honeymoon, I wasn't good about applying sunblock and I got burned so badly on a kayak safari that I blistered my scalp and my shoulders peeled for days after. I'll admit it: I was stupid about sunblocking that day, and it was definitely the only time I've ever burned that bad and it was certainly the very last.

Today I'm insane about sun safety. I sunblock my kids until they glisten white, keeping Connor under an umbrella and making Sean keep his shirt and sunhat on at all times. I own a wide-brimmed straw hat that I will sport if I'm not under the umbrella with the baby and will usually leave my tank top or cover up on over my bathing suit, but not without sunblocking everything first (even under the clothes). I use globs of sunscreen and I am consistent about reapplying every few hours (more if we're in the water). We use up about 1 bottle of sunscreen for every 5 beach trips we make. I learned sometime last year, after reading an article in Parents magazine, that most people don't apply enough sunscreen and I vowed not to make that mistake this year. Sure, each bottle of block is around $5 and can run us around $50 for the summer, but compared to the cost of surgery to have a suspicious mole removed (which can range from $150-$400), we're actually saving money.

I get a full head-to-toe skin check every year and perform a routine self-exam every month. I've made myself very aware of the possibility that I could be one of the five Americans diagnosed with skin cancer in their lifetime. So when I noticed a changing mole, I went online and did my research. I found that skin cancer is the most common cancer, but it's the most preventable and, if caught early, the most treatable. I learned that melanoma took the lives of almost 9,000 Americans last year. Though it is the least common form of skin cancer, is it certainly the most dangerous. Two other types of skin cancer: basal cell carcinoma (which is the most common) was diagnosed in about one million Americans last year and squamous cell carcinoma followed in second, with over 250,000 new diagnoses every year.

As I browsed through pictures of people with advanced stages of skin cancer, I was completely horrified. I used to think that a tan gave a person a healthy glow and that some sun exposure was good for you, but looking at the pages of people who were living proof of the dangers of UV rays, I came to a new realization: The healthiest skin is the skin without the tan lines, that glows it's own color and not the given color of the sun. Not even considering cancer, tanning is evidence that UV rays have penetrated the skin and caused damage, leading to wrinkles, sun spots, lose of elasticity and photodermatoses. Premature aging of the skin should be enough to make one thing twice about visiting the beach without a generous slathering of sunscreen. Tan skin today may look great now, but what happens in 10 years...15...25? No one wants to be 35 and look 50! Not to mention, there is a point at which a person can be too tan...I've seen Jersey Shore and let me just say, being that tan doesn't even look healthy, it's actually borderlining Willy Wonka and his chocolate factory helpers.

I write this blog today because I was inspired to reach out to whoever follows it in hopes that it plants a seed in the mind and gets you to think about being safe about your skin. Many of us are conscious that eating healthy and exercising are good for us. We know that it's important to eat well, drink plenty of water and get 30-minutes of exercise a day, but how many of you have a bottle of sunscreen (30SPF or higher) next to that yoga mat and organic food? Our skin is a part of our body and it's just as important to take care of the outside, as it is to take care of the inside. As the season begins and the sun burns hot, I urge you all to be safe while you're having your summer fun. If you really feel the need to have that tan skin, check out Neutrogena. They have a great selection of tans you can lather on...just imagine the elasticity of skin that's been lotioned instead of baked.


*Research for this blog was done at http://www.skincancer.org/. If you want more facts on sun safety, it's a great site!

Jennifer and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day

In honor of my son's favorite book (Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day: by Judith Viorst)...

I went to bed with an ache in my head and woke up to it even bigger and when I got out of bed this morning I stepped on clean laundry that I forgot to fold the night before and accidentally hit my shin on the side of my hope chest and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

For breakfast, Sean wanted juice with his oatmeal. He attempted to pour it himself. He spilled it all over the floor. For breakfast, I wanted a bagel. I burned it...Connor made a mess of his bananas and Sean made a mess of his oatmeal.

I think I'll move to Hawaii.

There was a poopy diaper to change and after twenty minutes of being in his bathing suit, Sean peed in them. I tripped over toys I'd just cleaned up and still hadn't made the bed and didn't feel like packing for the beach. Sean watched too much TV and fought me when it was off and ended up waking Connor up from his nap. It was turning out to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

We drove to the beach and when we got there, it was definitely not a beach day. The wind was cold, the sand was cold, the water was even colder. Sean said he was freezing, he whined he was cold, he put on a sweatshirt and proceeded to go in the water. He was soaked. Connor was fussing. I was freezing. I decided it was time to go.

Sean didn't want to go. He said he wanted to stay. So he waded out into the ocean and in capris, with a baby strapped to my chest, I had to wade out up to my thighs to drag him back to shore. I was soaked and I was hungry and I still had an ache in my head. Sean slipped off the sidewalk and cried all the way to the car and Connor screamed getting in his seat and I stubbed my toe on the wagon.

That's it, we're moving to Hawaii!

I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, I told the boys. Sean mocked me by peeing on the side of the car. He argued over lunch and didn't want his banana and fussed over his yogurt and then cried that his hands weren't clean enough. Connor took his bottle and dropped it while I was driving and proceeded to scream until I pulled a muscle to keep the car steady while getting it off the floor and back into his mouth. We sat in traffic and ended up singing 'Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun' about 200 times so Connor would stay quiet and when we sang something else, he cried, but if we sang only that, Sean cried.

When we got home, the house was a mess and the kitchen smelled funny and the trash needed to go out. I hadn't eaten lunch but there was nothing I wanted to eat. The beach gear was still in the car and I definitely didn't want to drag it all back in.
Sean was whining and I hate whining.
Connor wasn't napping and I wanted to nap.

I never got the dishes done or the house cleaned up and I only have my crummy jeans to wear if I don't do laundry tomorrow. I hate my crummy jeans.
Today was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

But I know that somedays are like that...Even in Hawaii.

Exceeding Expectations

When Sean was just a baby, and still waking up in the night, I was able to nap when he napped. It was essential that I did so, because I needed to function during the day. I was a new mom, with only one child and he was my biggest responsibility at the time. It was a new lifestyle that I certainly had to adjust to, which I think is true for all new mothers. Due to my frequent napping style, I once overheard a comment, indicating that the consensus was I wasn't going to be able to handle my job. Guess some people have never heard the advice: 'Sleep when the baby sleeps'.

Years later, I am getting up as the sun rises to play with Connor, who has decided that the new wake-up call is 6am. I will need a nap later, I'm sure, but it will probably only be a 20-minute catnap, since it's all I have time for these days. I don't expect to get one, I just have to hope. When I have another child who's awake when Connor is sleeping, 'sleeping when the baby sleeps' is less a definite option, and more a possibility.

When Sean graces the day with his presence, usually around 8, he has his breakfast before cartoons and I let him watch about an hour of TV (maybe 2 if it's that kind of morning)...And that's all he watches all day. I make him shut down the tube and take out toys, books or games or when Connor's napping, we set-up the baby monitor and play out front with his bike or soccer ball. I really can't find any reason to allow him to be comatose in front of the TV all day. I don't even watch TV during the day...It's actually really nice to just have it off.

As I reflect on my life, I look around my house. There are no dirty dishes piling up on the counters. There are no piles of dirty laundry strewn about the house. The bookshelves are dusted, the kitchen is clean, the bathrooms are up-kept, my closets are organized and every morning I make the bed. My kids are fed and in clean clothes. They are entertained. I get them out of the house to see their friends and I plan special days, like going to the beach or museums.

So in the end, people can think what they want, but I feel I've done a pretty good job. I'm not out partying, getting drunk all the time and since we seldom get help with babysitting, Ryan and I have taken to catching up on the DVR as our date nights. My vacations and weekends away are with my kids in tow and that is OK with me. I've learned to adjust to life as a mom. I've learned that you aren't always going to have a strong support system, that family isn't always going to be so helpful, but you might have some really amazing friends. In the end though, the best person to rely on is your partner. I've also learned you can't always shave your legs when you take a shower, you aren't always going to have time to do your hair or makeup and sometimes the day is going to start getting crazy before you've even had your coffee. I know it's important to take time for myself, but it's also important to be with my kids.

I personally think I've exceeded expectations, but I'm not so naive that I don't expect similar comments along the way. I've just have to learn to ignore the negativity because it's really just a mental poison. Of course, it did take me over an hour to write this blog, but really what can I say? I can't spend more than a few minutes at a time on the computer...I've got kids to take care of.

Scrapping Diva

I've always been an avid saver of scraps. Any movie I've ever seen in theaters, I have the ticket stubs. Any place I've ever been, I've got a postcard. I have saved cards from every occasion, flyers from special events, and mementos from pretty much every day that has meant something to me. That doesn't even include the hundreds, probably even thousands, of photographs!

So it's a good thing that I enjoy turning a simple piece of paper into a work of art, or I'd have shoe boxes lining my closet shelves of stuff that I just couldn't throw away. Slid between the safety of plastic sheet covers are tangible memories forever held at arm's length, to be reminisced at any point in time.

My obsession for scrapping started at some point in my teen years, where I started at the humblest of scrapping beginnings; simply cutting pictures and placing them in those old-style photo albums. You know the kind: where you peel the plastic away, put the picture on the sticky surface of the page and replace the plastic. When I was a senior in high school, I discovered shiny stickers and started saving tidbits of mementos to add to my photographs. I moved alot through my 20s and at some point along the way, I lost those old books of memories, but I never lost the knack for the scrap technique.

Shortly after our wedding, we moved into a new apartment and during the move, I discovered boxes of stuff that me & my husband had saved throughout the 8 years of our dating. After some contemplation, I decided that a scrapbook was in order to chronologically record our past. At first, it was fun, and secretive, since it was going to be a Christmas gift to him. I had 3 months to put together 8 years and when I first started, I thought it would be easy. It was the first real scrapbook I'd worked on in awhile, but I figured the craft store would have everything I needed.

The craft store did have everything I needed...in overwhelming abundance! I had no idea where to start. What kind of paper did I need? Should I buy in bulk or separately? Did I really need the little stamping sets, the fancy scissors and paper cutters? And what were all these embellishments?! That first trip to the store I discovered two things: I needed to have a game plan. I needed to have money and lots of it! Turns out that scrapbooking could be a very expensive hobby if you weren't shopping sales and clearance items!

After finishing the book, I thought I'd never scrap again. Time crunching a hobby turns it into work and I felt like it was hard to slow down and enjoy it when I knew I only had so much time to finish it. On the other hand, when forced to complete it on time, it forced me to sit down and do it, and in the end, it actually got done!

Fast forward to last night. As part of a local mom's group, I attend and host various meetups. Last night I hosted our 2nd monthly scrapping night. After 3 years of trying to finish Sean's 1st year scrapbook, I finally had a reason to avert my attention to it once a month and I'm proud to say that I've finally completed the project!

Somewhere between the 100-page book I made for my husband and the 1st year of my firstborn, I also worked on other projects, completing a travel book on a family trip to Tennessee and a couple of photobooks (which I found are great if you have more photos to paste than mementos).
This morning, as I finished the last 2 pages of Sean's book, my heart began to ache as I thought of how fast he's grown. And it seems that the quick flight of time applies to everyone. Eight years of dating, already on year #2 of our marriage and our youngest son is only a few months away from his 1st birthday...All that seems to have happened in the blink of an eye and I feel like I have a right to ask, 'where did the time go?'

Clean Queen Bee on a Sudden Clean Spree

It's 11:30p.m. My children have long been asleep and my husband is out with friends for the night.
On a quiet night like this, I tend to engross my mind in the latest bestseller or zone out on some show playing on Discovery. But tonight, when I finally had free reign of the house, I noticed that one of my pieces of furniture was looking rather dusty. So I took everything off, dusted it all down and put it all neatly back. I figured that would be it. I'd make a cup of tea, light some candles, put on some soothing music and catch-up on a magazine.

I entered the kitchen and started the teapot. As I stood there, waiting for the water to come to a boil, I noticed that our toaster oven was in desperate need of some TLC. So I grabbed a rag and quickly wiped it down. But for some reason, it didn't feel quite good enough. So I grabbed the Windex...then a sponge...then an SOS pad. After I'd successfully scrubbed it to my liking, I noticed the microwave had some smudges on the buttons, so I took a cleaning cloth to it. Upon opening it, I was horrified by the splatters caked inside. How did I never notice this?!

This pattern continued until I'd spent the better half of the night cleaning my kitchen. I even dusted the forgotten top of the fridge! Once my kitchen was cleaned, I thought I'd be spent, but the sudden need-to-clean spree continued into organizing the coat closet and picking up the livingroom (even going as far as sorting the toys in the baskets on our bookshelves). By the time I was finished, I was disgusted with myself that I'd wasted the best night to relax, but was also feeling rather accomplished because I knew that the weekend could come and my house would be clean...well, clean as in, minus the whirlwind of toys that are left in the wake of my kids.

When I finally felt like it was safe for me to sit down, I started clipping coupons. I see a coupon for $3.00 off 'Chef Michael's'. I look at the picture and see hearty chicken chunks in thick gravy with veggies and think, "Wow, that looks good!" I begin to clip said coupon but upon closer inspection, I see that it isn't for some bagged frozen dinner...it's for dog food! I'm going to confess: I'm rather upset that they made dog food look so appetizing. I was looking forward to making that 'frozen dinner' in my nice clean kitchen!

A Day at the Beach

Today was one of those beautiful days, the kind where the sun awakens and the morning air is warm, full of the promise of clear skies and sunshine. As the dawn broke and the day began, I could feel the pull of the beach in my soul, as though the ocean waves were a siren's song. Winter has put up its temporary white flag and the rush of excitement floods our hearts as we realize that summer has come again.
In response to the urge to splash in the sea and walk barefoot in the sand, I planned the perfect beach day.

When I was single and sans kids, I didn't need much. I owned a tote bag the size of a coffee table book and would bring a novel, a towel, a bottle of water and sunscreen. When I was about 16 years old, I used to have to help carry the toys and beach gear when we went to the beach as a family, since my siblings were years younger than me. I used to vow then that I would never need to bring all that stuff and my mother used to say, "Wait until you have kids..."

Then I had them. I pulled the wagon with the all-terrain wheels out of our loaded-down station wagon and began to strategically pack it with two bags of toys, towels, a pack & play, beach chairs, a cooler full of food and an umbrella. In that moment, I finally understood what my mother meant. Going to the beach with kids is a huge production, no matter how much stuff you try to leave behind.

For a solid three hours, we built sandcastles, chased seagulls, jumped through the waves and gathered seashells. Regardless of the planning and packing and 'setting up of camp', it was worth it.

When I wrote these words, I was sitting in the parking lot of our apartment and scrounging for every scrap of paper I could find. Both kids had fallen asleep on the ride home and I was fearful of two things: of moving them and therefore, waking them up and of losing these sentimental words that were quickly coming to me without my laptop nearby. As I copy them from losing lottery tickets & old receipts, I have to smile at the magical quality that this day seemed to possess. There was something relaxing in kicking up a little bit of salt water, something comforting in the cool, damp sand underfoot, something inspiring in such a simple day. Connor was happiest in his confined space, content to watch the people nearby and the birds soaring overhead. Sean ran like the wind through the waves as they met his feet at the shore and collected humble treasures dropped in the sand from the sea.

Today was the perfect beach day.

YOGA: The Relaxing Workout

A few weeks ago, I decided it was absolutely impossible to exercise at home. I have a whole list of excuses, starting with two kids who crawled under, over and around me while I attempted yoga poses or cried the instant the cardio routine started. Besides that (which would be my #1 excuse), I have to say I'm also rather unmotivated to work-out at home. After careful contemplation, I found it was due to my inability to focus on working out and the ease at which I succumbed to the all the distractions that are in the house (cleaning and the computer being my top two). In my defense, I certainly tried.

Last night, I took my first class at the gym: Mindful Yoga. I always thought yoga would be a cake walk. The women on TV made it look so easy and all you're really doing is stretching. But that's easier said than done when you're holding downward dog for a full two minutes!

At the end of the class, the cool-down was the most mindful part of the class; mindful of your breathing and relaxation, focusing on letting every muscle relax and every thought drift out of your mind. Every sigh was meant to be a let go...Let go of your problems. Let go of your to-do list. Let go of your worries. Just keeping on sighing, leaving it all in the room.

Throughout the day today, I was at peace in my mind. When forced to focus on every problem, so I could let it go, it illuminated them in detail. Once brought into the light, I was faced with the reality that most of the issues I had in my life weren't really that big and I was aware of the control I had over them. I could just stop worrying, because everything I was worrying about hadn't happened yet and I could spend my life worrying over something that could never come to pass. I could start being more patient, because in the long run, patience is the best fight I've got against the tantrums and the restless nights. I could stop asking what if and instead, enjoy the road I'm on because it's actually really great. I can stop spending time complaining about the things someone else has and instead appreciate the things I have, acknowledging that the grass is always greener on the other side. I can laugh, even when I want to cry, and dance when I would rather not. I can choose to do all those things and when all is said and done, my life and my problems, are completely in my control.

In everyday life that is the real trick, to stop and focus on your mindset. Sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is to take a few minutes to just breathe and to really think about where we are in the world at that very second in time. We are all guilty of rushing around, cramming every minute of the day with something to do, but not really focusing on the most important things. I want to enjoy my life. I want to relax my life. I want to just stop going all the time and just be in the moment without any thoughts of the future...Stopping to smell the flowers isn't just a figure of speech, it's a way of life. So I leave you with this question: When is the last time you stopped to smell the flowers?

Monday: The Last Day of the Week

"Dear Monday, I hate you."

That was my Facebook status last week and I'm tempted to make it my status again today. I was baffled by my pure contempt with this day. In good reasoning, I think Mondays are the days in which I should feel so much potential swelling because it's the 'beginning' of the week...It's the first day of seven and instead of feeling like it's a new start to a new week, I feel as though Mondays should actually be the last day. Let me elaborate...

Mondays are the first day after the weekend and the weekends can go either way for us: They are either busy with some activity or another, or they are completely lazy. This past weekend was a rather busy one for us, but it was combined with a couple of lazy spells in the lull between events and the turn-out for a weekend such as this one is a very messy house come Monday morning. Now this is a phenomenon that truly only occurs during the weekend.

The first thing I would like to wake up to is a clean kitchen. I find it relaxing to awake before my kids, get my first cup of coffee and if I'm lucky, I can even squeeze in a bagel for breakfast. If I'm even luckier, I can leaf through a magazine while I'm enjoying said coffee & bagel.

But on most Mondays, I'm not waking up to a clean house, let alone a clean kitchen. Beach paraphernalia litter the livingroom, dirty dishes are all over the counters and laundry is lying in heaps in miscellaneous corners (which I never understand, since there is a basket in almost every room of the house for laundry to go into!). Now it's not so disgusting that a little tidying can't help it, but it would be rather embarrassing if we had a surprise visitor.

In the end, Mondays end up being the biggest cleaning day of the week, because the weekends don't leave me much time to keep up and the 'last day of my week' ends up being the day I have to catch up. So really, I think that no matter what I do, I'm always going to despise Mondays. I'd rather enjoy my family on the weekends and just keep on hating Mondays...At least I get to love Saturdays & Sundays.

I do work a REAL JOB!

I actually wrote this a few weeks ago, but felt it was a good place to start my blog, since it's really about me and what I do all day long. I'm currently a stay-at-home mother to two boys; my first is 3 1/2 years and my second is 8 months. And here is my job, in a nut-shell:

Before my children were born, I was already sacrificing. For nine months, I had to put my growing babies first, kicking my beloved morning coffee and passing on a glass of wine, paying close attention to everything that went into my stomach and all the stress that went into my mind. When they finally came, I still had to bear the scars left behind and had to learn how to work-out around naps or incorporate their crawling antics into my crunches.

Today I've done it all. I am on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, to be the comfort in the night when Connor's hungry or Sean has a nightmare. I've stayed up all night, waiting for the whooping cough to subside or the fever to break. I've experienced and survived night terrors, teething, missed naps and potty training...And that was only round one!

I am the event coordinator, the one who's responsible for planning the parties and the vacations. I make sure the decorations and food are perfect, get the RSVPs or invitations mailed out and I'm always the one to buy the perfect gift. I arrange the vacations, find the cheapest hotel that's closest to where we want to be and book the flights.
I am the spiritual leader, the one who has to give a full two hours on Sunday mornings just to get two kids dressed and out the door by 10am, who sits and talks about Jesus & God with a 3-year-old because it's the most important topic of all.
I am the grocery shopper & frugal saver, not only responsible for buying the groceries, but for finding them at the best deal to save the most money. I clip coupons, I scour flyers, I shop at three different stores, usually pulling a double stroller while pushing a full shopping cart. When the groceries are home, I unpack them and become the cook, responsible for preparing every meal.
I am the interior decorator and expert mover, who lovingly packed everything every time we moved and when we upgraded to a 3-bedroom, I juggled two kids, boxes & bubble wrap. Once unpacked, I put everything in the perfect spot to make our house a home, finishing in just two weeks! I organized every closet and continue to keep up on them regularly so we always know where everything is. When the boys start outgrowing things, I sort through the old clothes to donate and get to the store to replace them with new outfits.
I get them to their check-ups and make sure they have all their vaccinations. I entertain them while I'm getting my check-ups. I organize playdates to assure they have a social life. I research schools and sports and clubs, so that when they are old enough, I know what they can sign-up for. I take them for walks to get fresh air and to the playground to exercise. Come the fall, I will be the one responsible for getting Sean to school on time.

I've pulled muscles while carrying a screaming 3 year old under one arm and a 7 month old on the opposite hip. I've been bitten, kicked, scratched, and smacked. I've juggled a migraine, a temper tantrum and a hungry baby all at once. I've been thrown up on, peed on, spit-up on and have had to clean up a poop accident that somehow ended up all over the bathroom. I've changed countless dirty diapers and washed more loads of laundry than one could imagine possible and still rarely see the bottom of the basket!
I handle numerous tantrums a day and have eaten meals with a baby in my lap. I clean my house, some days multiple times, and yet it can still look like nothing has been cleaned. I repeat myself like a broken record and have had countless sprinting races to see who would reach the parking lot first. And even when the day is done and everyone is asleep, I find that I now worry about scenarios that I never knew existed before I had kids.

As for time off, I personally get 3 vacation days a year on my wedding anniversary and enough date nights in the year to count on one hand. When I get a few free hours on the weekend, I'm trying to decide if I want to go to Walmart for household items or Kohl's for baby clothes. My biggest night out is a bookclub meeting once a month and I haven't had my nails or toes pampered since my wedding day 2 years ago. I don't have extra help to take a break whenever I want and when I need to getaway...well, I really don't get to do that. My biggest break is when one kid naps and the other is having 'quiet time' and that's for an hour a day, at the most, if I'm lucky!

Of course when the day is done, the bad stuff doesn't seem so bad when I get to hear the sound of their laughter and the little patter of feet in the hall. On the good days, I get to watch the clouds roll by, pointing out shapes, and I get to kneel down close to inspect the rush of ants in the sidewalk's cracks. Zoos & museums are magical places again and the imagination of a 3-year-old can be a pretty entertaining place to be a part of. My youngest has a smile that lights up the room and is so easily amused, that I become easily amused. I get to watch him grow and explore as only a baby can and I get to hear the silly things that my 3-year-old says on a daily basis. I have excuses to read my favorite childhood stories, crawl through old wooden playgrounds, visit the circus and spend all day at the beach just building sandcastles. I love my children with all my heart and though there are rough patches on our journey together, I wouldn't trade my days with them for anything in the world.

But even on the best days, nothing annoys me more than when someone confronts me with 'What do you do for work?' and when my reply is that I stay at home with my kids, I can't appreciate the remarks that say what I do isn't really that important or that my job isn't really that hard. But in the end, it's the most important job and the toughest one I'll ever love. I never punch out, don't get paid, and can never quit but I do it anyway, because I know that no matter what anyone else thinks, it is the most important job. So the next time someone asks me what I do, maybe I should direct them here!