"The Girl Who Was"

There are two certainties in life; Change and Death.

Although I have always struggled with change plenty in my life, I never give much thought to death. Admittedly, this is probably a good thing. Not sure how healthy it would be if I sat around and worried about my impending demise. However, when someone you know dies, you beginning to think about it. Whether it’s for an hour, a day or a week, it’s natural to grieve, to wonder and to worry.

Last night as I lie in bed checking in on the gossip of Facebook (Hi, my name is Les and I am an addict), I learned of the death of someone I knew. I didn’t know Chris all that well, but I knew who he was, I know his wife, some of his family, we share many of the same friends. I began to read all the loving and kind words that people were posting. The support they were giving to his family and close friends. The more I read, the more I had to fight back the tears, as the image of his children played through my mind, such young, innocent children who will forever mourn the loss of their father. I lost my father when I was 15 years old. I remember being angry that my father would never see me get my driver’s license, see me graduate from high school or ever walk me down the aisle. I don’t know, maybe it’s better that they are younger than I was, maybe they will be more resilient than I was. Then the thought of Aida losing either of us, well I just couldn’t even allow myself to go there.

With the thought of death already on my mind this morning, I called to check on my boss, when later than normal I still hadn’t heard from her. Maybe it was the events of the previous night and the unusualness of not hearing from her, but I thought “what if something has happened”? Thankfully, all was well, she just had a meeting that wasn’t on her calendar. But during our conversation she made the comment “With my husband being gone a lot, I count on you to know I am not in a ditch somewhere. You always know where I am and should be.” Very endearing woman that one! This made me think though, how long would it be for someone to notice I was gone? Of course people would notice, not saying they wouldn’t, but that thought lead to this one:

“What will be remembered when I am gone?”

Have you ever wondered what your life looks like from the outside world?  Yeah, me neither. Okay from time to time, maybe a little. Like most people, I live my life day to day, sometimes just thankful I made it through the day with some hair left on my head (a bonus that they are not all grey). I will never be that person that travels the world, building schools in Africa and adopting starving kids from Ethiopia, but I want my life to mean something. I don’t need a Nobel Peace Prize, but in my own world, my own reality, I want to be remembered for good and meaningful things. When I go (hopefully decades and decades and a few more decades later), I want to know that I made a difference in as many lives as I can, I want to know that I gave all the love I could give, I want to know that no matter what, I was the best version of me that I could be. I want to be remembered as the one who always had a smile on my face, who you never saw upset. I want to be the one that people looked up to and wished to be as happy as I was. The only one that can control all these wants is myself. It's up to me to put my money where my mouth is. Life's going to have bumps in the road, it’s going to have it’s bad days, but I never want those things to rule so much that it makes me "the girl who should have been”! I want to be "the girl who was”……….

It's time we put away our hate, change the world and it all starts right inside ourselves.

I have a Right

Before you judge, hear me out, as in read this entire blog with an open mind! I don’t normally do the “heavy” sort of thing, but this is one opinion I wanted to share. Yesterday, I learned what the red flag with the equal symbol floating around Facebook meant. And I have to say that I am proud of my decision to change my profile picture to show my support.  And this is why:

First, let me say, I am no historian and therefore some facts may not be exactly accurate, but this is my opinion. Our country was founded on religious freedoms. The whole point in some English men getting on a boat for a month or so, half of them dying in the process and then fighting some natives was so that you could have the right to your opinion, one form being Christianity.

Fast forward a few years, say the 1960’s and people began to fight for Civil Rights. As a woman, this has worked out pretty well for me. As I sat a work today, enjoying my job, I had the thought:

“Prior to the Civil Rights movement, in a country prided on their religion, Christian men didn’t think that I should have the same rights because I was a woman. This “man” thought that because it was his opinion, that it was the ONLY opinion.  How could any other opinion be correct if it differed from his? He is a Christian, his forefather’s founded this country, it must be so.”

Another part of the Civil Rights movement was the desegregation movement.

I have a big sister, who has the best husband and two beautiful boys. She is NOT one of the countless women who are abused by their husbands. They have NOT ended their marriage in divorce as 50 % of the country does. They have NOT had affairs behind each other’s backs. They HAVE been together for almost 20 years. They ARE an inspiration in their parenting and their love for each other. My brother in law, who I love dearly and his family, well he is African American. And again I had this thought:

“Prior to the Civil Rights movement, in a country prided on it's religion, Christian men didn’t think that African American’s should have the same rights. The color of a man’s skin made him more or less of a human depending on the pigment he was born with. This “man” thought that because it was his opinion, that it was the ONLY opinion. How could any other opinion be correct if it differed from his? He is a Christian, his forefather’s founded this country, it must be so.”

So I say all that, to say this.

I whole heartedly think you should believe in your religion, your faith, your ideas and morals whatever they may be. I do not believe you should tell someone that because their belief is different that they are wrong.

If you are a woman, you should stand up for others, because once upon a time someone stood up for you. Without someone thinking differently than the “Man” in the 1960’s, you would still be oppressed. You would not have the right to your opinion in religion, politics or the work place. You would never excel or find wealth in your profession.

If you are of another race, you should be thankful someone believed in a world where you could be an equal, where you were granted the same freedoms that a white man had. Without someone believing that there was another way, you would still be on a plantation, slaving away for nothing.

And if you are the White Man, you should be thankful that you have grown wiser than those that came before you. That you can choose to allow someone to have a different opinion without hating them and still maintain your own beliefs.

I am not asking you to change who you are or what you believe in, I am asking that you “love thy neighbor as thy brother” no matter what they believe. I am asking “thou shall not judge” just because it’s not what you would choose for yourself.  

I am asking you to believe in LOVE.

I am asking you to straddle the fence. To believe that two opinions can differ and still one not be wrong. I am asking you to believe that two people who love each other to the depths of their soul is worth cherishing, no matter what gender they are. The world has enough hate, let love provail.

Careful What You Wish For!

For the past few months I have been disgusted with how my body looks. After having my daughter, I quickly lost all but 4 pounds of the weight I had gained! I was so proud and excited since I had gained so much during the pregnancy. Granted, I lost 31 lbs in the first week due to the amount of swelling I had. Talk about crazy, I had the worst “Pitted Edema” known to man, I swear!  After doing so well to lose it all, I did an even better job at gaining it back x10. Okay, maybe a bit over exaggerated, but I am a woman, we can’t tell the real number.

Shortly before my trip to Vegas, I decided to move from the “Just Complaining” level, to the “Let’s Do Something About It” phase. So I started doing some work outs at home, got a cardio video from a friend and I was on my way! Although a week in Vegas killed all my good intentions. However, lack of progress and good intentions aside, I have been losing some weight. Just not exactly the way I planned.

Since returning home, I have managed to have stomach bug #1 (resulting in no eating), cyst removed from my tongue (resulting in no eating for a week) and now barely recovering from stomach bug #2 (which, wait for it……..resulted in NO EATING)! Although I appreciate the number heading down on the scale, this is not what I had in mind (although it’s taken much less effort on my part)!

Guess I should have been a little more specific when I wished I could lose some weight!

Moral of the story: If you ever find that genie in a bottle (not the Christina Aguilera version)
                                    you better be pretty dang specific what you wish for.

Warm Up Wednesday: Chief Edition

     We have missed a few "Warm Up Wednesday's", but since there is snow on the ground here in PA (note: It's March 20th!) seems like a little warming up is due! Not to mention there is snow in the forecast two more times in the next 10 days! I am beginning to think this Groundhog should be fired or shot! Early Spring my foot! He does reside in PA, you would think when he says early Spring he would at least be talking about her own state. Well enough about horribly inadequate weathering predicting groundhogs....

     Every girl dreams of her wedding day; the flowers, the music in the air, the dress flowing down the isle and the smile of pure happiness from her fiance waiting at the other end of the isle. What Faith Holland did not dream about was the anxious look on her perfect fiance's face and the sudden interruption from his best man! Several years after being thrown into a reality she never even dreamed aka dumped at the alter, Faith returns to her family's vineyard ~ Blue Heron Winery! I mean, talk about a family made in heaven, what girl wouldn't love to come from a family of wine makers. It's like perfection in a bottle! Except, what Faith returns to is hardly perfection; a town that is expressing their sympathies for being left at the altar at ever turn, a family full of more drama than ABC's Thursday night prime time, an ex-fiance who is the perfect town doctor/owner of Lyons Den Vineyard and the constant impinging with the greatest "Best Man" a wedding has ever seen. Yes what's not to love about the one and only, Chief of Police Levi Cooper, wedding crasher extraordinaire. Of course, then there are those sleepy green eyes (who cares if they are giving you a 8 on the boredom scale when they look that good), the tousled hair and who could miss those arms.

     Levi, although not bad in the looks department, sure has some serious aversion to feelings. (There were many night I wanted to reach in the book and smack him "upside his head") After a short failed 3 month marriage, to which his wife just up and bailed one day, Levi has decided women aren't worth the effort. That is until the reappearance of Faith Holland starts questioning his resolve. Sure there was that one time, 8 years ago, where they had a little spark, but they were just kids and she is his best friends ex for goodness sake (Seriously, man code or not, when your best friend "the ex" is rooting for you, then stop being an idiot) Of course, nothing test a man's resolve like a woman in distress, especially when that distress means she's hanging halfway out of a bathroom window with basically just a bra on. The Chief of Police can't just leave her hanging, right?

     I don't want to say much more other than this was our first book with author Kristan Higgins and I must say I was not let down. Of course when you are good friends with Jill Shalvis (my new hero), you are sure to write a good story. If you are looking for a good love story (this one is not even smutty), with several twist and turns you don't see coming go check out "The Best Man" by Kristan Higgins. I will definitely be checking out her other books.

Treading Water

"My house is lived in...." ~ my mother

The Good Old Days

     Once upon a time, in what seems like a far off land, I used to be OCD. Not clinically diagnosed of course, but surely self proclaimed. My closet, for instance, was not only color coded, but it was organized by the sleeve length and then color. My kitchen counter tops showed no signs of life in there off peak hours. Minus the fact  that I had animals, you could have probably eaten off my floor. Okay....maybe that's a bit extreme, but the point is I was organized, detailed oriented, an interior designer. So it sounds like the opening to a resume, a very good one I might add. Every week there was a menu made and a grocery list (the one thing I seemed to have held onto). I had spread sheets for my bills, grocery bills, credit card purchases. I could tell you down to the cent where all my money went (when you don't have much, it's not that hard really)! Hey, I impressed myself if no one else did.

Tornado Alley

    As I stand in the eye of the storm, I watch the chaos unfold around me. The thing about trying to stop the destruction of a force of nature is, you will fail every time. It's amazing how I can clean and clean, well I feel like I clean all the time, and then the little force of nature and the bigger less sever storm can turn my house upside down in minutes. The things that just sit around drive me nuts. I really don't mind the toys nearly as much as all the other things (dirty dishes, coats every where, random mail sitting all over the place, etc.) And don't even get me started on the laundry. How can a few people create so much laundry? I am pretty sure I wash clothes about every other day and still have several loads to do on the weekend.

     Many times I have been told "just enjoy the time with your kids while they are young, you can clean after they move out". Now that sounds all good and stuff, until I literally start to tweak out about the mess. I honeslty have physical and psychological reactions to the mess - yes I know I am mental. So all though it sounds great to ignore it, I just can't do it. I mean, if all those people that say that, never cleaned their house because the had small children, well then I don't really want to come over, I can imagine it's an episode of Hoarders. I am learning to let it be a little more, but I suppose I have finally reached the point in my if where "I live in my house"!

***Not sure how this is gong to go for selling, but we will see***

Friday Funday!

You may or may not have seen this, but we wanted to give you a little inspiration to celebrate the end of the work week and the beginning of the weekend. Whether you are spending the evening at home relaxing with the family (this is my life sans the relaxing), heading out for Happy Hour Drinks & Tapas or a night out on the town dancing, everyone can use a little motivation. So please enjoy and dance responsibly....

Kiss Them When They're Wild

We have entered a new era in our house.  An era, that I've read about endlessly.  An era I have seen friends struggle to survive.  An era that my boss once warned me about when he told me that around the age of 2.5 or 3 you will wake up one day and wonder why  aliens have taken your sweet child and replaced him with a monster look a like and more importantly, when will they be returning your child.  Yes ladies and gents we have entered the terrible twos. 

His favorite word is "NO".  And isn't just an answer to a question, but a declaration of independence.  It is often dripping with assertiveness, attitude and stubbornness.  If he is corrected or told not to do something, the tears and the screaming begin (I small glimpse into the "you've ruined my life, I hate you" teenage years, I swear). And ohhh does he have a temper (oops he gets that from me).  Don't get me wrong, he is a good kid most of the time, but some days it seems there is more bad than good.  We try to keep our sense of humor about it and try to discipline when he needs it, and ignore the tantrums so that we aren't playing into the attention seeking.  Sometimes I myself even become a little evil and ask him a series of questions that get stern "NO"s.  I end the questioning with something I'll know he doesn't really want to say no to, like "Do you want a snack?" and I get the "NO!" followed by a confused look and an "Oh!".  This game may or may not teach him a lesson, but it certainly makes me laugh and helps me keep my sense of humor during the terrible 2's! 

Again I say it isn't all bad.  I love his fiery spirit and the independence that is soaring through his little veins.  And today, when I needed some motivation to get me through the terrible 2's, God hit me with a 2.x4 via Pinterest.  I stumbled upon 25 Rules for Mothers of Boys and while the entire list was great, number 24 spoke to me and well maybe slapped me in the face. The tips was kiss them.  It discusses how boys "harsh, wild and destructive" most of the day (yep that's my kid), but how they also have moments of complete sweet, never felt so loved in my life tenderness.  We often love these moments and kiss and hug and all that good stuff.  But we need to remember to love, embrace and kiss when their wild. 

So as we figure out how to navigate the terrible 2-3's I will try my hardest to appreciate the journey my little monster is on to figure out his emotions and find his individuality!  This doesn't mean I won't lock myself in the bathroom from time to time or down my sorrows in brownies and wine or just plain throw a temper tantrum myself, but it means, I know we'll survive and we'll survive together!

You Had Me At First Smile!

I was having lunch with some friends today; one with a baby and the other couple with no kids. After comparing my recent mouth pain, which is a blog in itself, to the pain of child birth; the conversation steered towards all the pains of child birth, life with a baby and toddler adventures. I remember well all the things I "thought" I knew about babies/kids prior to having one and now I am on the other side of the fence telling my  "horror" stories.

It's funny that we always tell the horrors of child birth. Even after having a comparatively less dramatic child birth, I too still tell all the "fun" parts of giving birth. Whether you have a child of your own or not, you have heard all about it. Everything from the labor pains, the fear of pooping on the table, drugs wearing off, babies getting stuck and the ripping. Yes my friend it all happens and somehow we still call it a miracle and precious moment and then some where down the road decide to do it all over again. Pre-parent, it's amazing I even did it after hearing all the stories, but one day you see this precious baby sleeping and think "I want one". Then you have one and you start cataloging you own tales.

Which brings me to my thought. Why is it that we decide it's a good idea to tell the non-parents all the horrible parts? Partly I think it's just a right of passage that's passed down from generations and friends. Once you lived it, you earned the right to scare the bejesus out of everyone you know that has yet to take the plunge! And somehow, people keep having babies. Some two, three and four times! Seems the Amish think ten is a good number, good Lord!

The part that we don't talk about enough is the amazing moments. As a parent, especially the first time I am sure (since I only have one, I can't speak for the second or third child), every little thing is amazing. Maybe we don't talk about it as much because it does seem a little ridiculous to be so excited over a simple smile (who cares if it was just gas, your baby just smiled it's first smile). I remember the moments of PURE PRIDE! I never knew I was capable of such pride as watching my little one smile the first time. She started to recognize us and then she rolled over! Talk about pride, I cried! Literally cried tears of joy! She rolled over! Pure amazement!!! Oh, and then she started to learn to turn herself in circles. Who knew that spinning in very slow circles could be so exciting. It's probably about as exciting as a worm race for others, but when it's your baby it's like the greatest thing you have ever seen! Every step brought a new level of amazement; the sitting up, the crawling and then one day they take that first step! Watching Aida run around like crazy, it's so hard to believe that 8 months ago she took her first step! Talk about a "step for mankind"! Every time I would say "I can't wait for her to walk", people would always say "oh you will regret that"! Well, I never have, not once. I love running around with her. We have nightly running sessions around the island in the kitchen. Hey it's cardio, right? Then the words start flowing! The first few seem amazing enough, but then the sentence come and you just can't believe that somewhere along the way your little baby has turned into a little person.

I can't really say that I miss the baby phase. There are some moments, but for the most part we have never been "baby" people. Now though, I love this! The running, talking, coloring, playing, it's all so fun! Everyday is an adventure, some not very fun (hello terrible two's), but most of the time we laugh our heads off! She can come up with the craziest things. Even now, as I sit her and blog, she came over grabbed my hand and said "mommy, come, milk please"! It just warms my heart! And even though that milk is now being turned upside down on my rug, I still can't help but be amazed that she is mine.

I never knew there could be a love like this?

What moments have amazed you about your kiddo? If you don't have kids, but want them what do you look forward to the most?

Trashy or Classy? Who are you?

I came across a situation the other day and I found myself debating whether I should be “trashy” or “classy” in the way that I handled it. (I will try to not confuse you, but I am leaving out the specifics as to not offend)

So the story goes….

I was talking with an acquaintance (we’ll call them “Boots”, yes it’s sad Dora characters are the first that come to mind) the other day about a situation. Boots attempted to make a funny joke about the situation that wasn’t really joke friendly, so it fell flat. I ignored the lame attempt and continued on. Well it kept happening! Boots kept trying to make jokes throughout the conversation, but they became lamer and hard to ignore. This continued off and on for several hours, as the conversation would end and then later Boots would bring it back up. Now, it’s not like this situation was so serious and maybe with a different delivery some of the jokes could have been funny, but they just weren’t. Maybe it’s that I just don’t find Boots to be a funny person, but as the topic kept getting revisited, it seemed as though the attempt at jokes were coming at the expense of others. So now I am annoyed and over hearing about it, which is when I began my internal debate.

I could…..

A) Be Classy! I usually prefer to be classy. I am not one to be rude and confrontational about things. I am more of a just kind of walk away and not acknowledge kind of person, but clearly my efforts were not effective. You would think Boots would get it when I didn’t respond to the “jokes”, but maybe Boots isn’t the brightest monkey in the zoo!  

Or

B) Be Trashy! And by Trashy I mean Bitchy, but hey it flowed better with Classy! I really wanted to say “hey, maybe if you spent as much time on your life as you do trying to be funny you wouldn’t be a complete train wreck.” I mean seriously, if someone doesn’t react or respond the first few times, GIVE UP ALREADY!!! I just have a serious thing against people who are always negative, rude and hateful. That’s the problem with option B, if I go the “trashy” route, then I am no better. But man, sometimes you really just want to though, you know!

So what do you do? Are you a trashy or classy kind of girl?

The Only Constant Is Change

 Boy is that the truth! Parenthood teaches you a lot, accepting change is Lesson #1. Pregnancy does it’s best to prepare you for the ever changing world you are about to enter. There are the physical changes obviously, but all the emotional changes will rock your world. Of course, none of this fully prepares you for the baby that’s to come. It seemed like every time I thought I had it figured out, she would go and change it all up on me.

For a long while now, Aida has been doing great with going to bed. We had the few nights of fighting (I think maybe three) in the very beginning when we were teaching her to go to sleep on her own. This was due to the fact that she started fighting me every night when I would rock her to (not)sleep! She really has done great for probably 6+ months now. Every once in a while she will have a week were she decides to cry a little at first, but then will go right on to sleep.

The last morning of our vacation in Vegas, Aida woke my mom up at 5:15 screaming as though she was scared. I thought that maybe this was just a product of being somewhere different. Although she has stayed in that room many times, it’s still not the norm. However, after returning home it happened some more. Every few days she would wake up like there was something really wrong. Of course as soon as I got to her she would snuggle into me and go right back to sleep. The only thing I can figure is that my sweet girl has now started having nightmares. She must have had a pretty bad one during naptime at daycare yesterday because she woke up screaming and hyperventilating, which of course scared her teacher half to death. I really hope this is not a start of night terrors, not something I want my poor girl to have to live with. As a mom, you often have the “mommy guilt”, anytime you do something without your child you can help but feel guilty. Now I can’t help but be wonder if this is all because we left her for 5 days. She did great while we were gone, but maybe it messed with her psyche. Talk about “mommy guilt”, I already felt bad enough leaving her behind, but now that it might have caused nightmares makes me feel really guilty!

***Time changes were always fun too! Aida has always been a schedule baby! We are a little less so now, it doesn’t have to be spot on, but we still try and stick to the same schedule. The time changes would just screw it all up! Babies, for some unknown reason, don’t seem to observe Daylight Savings Time. The Spring is easier because it puts everything forward an hour, but the Fall bites. “Falling Back” sucks when you kiddo already gets up at the crack of dawn and then suddenly wants to get up an hour before the crack of dawn. So of course I am ecstatic that the time changes this weekend!