NBCs Parenthood - Everything you want in feel-good TV

“I thought I could do it all...but I can't, not now, anyway.”  This from Julia Braverman-Graham, the working mom on my favorite TV show – Parenthood (NBC, Tuesdays, 10pm/9pmCST). 

What I love the most about this show is how well it handles the REALITY of parenthood. You laugh and you cry during this one hour show. You learn things.  You enjoy.  

Julia, soon-to-be partner of her law firm, has always handled being a working mom seamlessly.  Recently, she and her husband Joel adopted an 11-year-old boy.  (They already have a precocious 5-year-old daughter who is used to being the center of their attention.) So in last night’s episode, I was so happy to see Julia losing her mind. Not in a mean way.  But in a relieved, sort of way.  The noise that the children made, the chaos in the morning. She’s trying to juggle everything.  And she’s the type that knows she can.  She can do it all!  Until she can’t.  She has a slight breakdown during breakfast that frenzied morning and she’s been slipping up at work.  So bad that the partners of the firm call her into a meeting in the middle of her son’s baseball game (Gasp! Her leaving the game shocks her large family who all lives close by and happen to have their schedules free to ALL be at this game – that’s the only thing about the show that is hard to believe.  They all get together so much,  so conveniently.  Who knows, maybe that is real but just not my reality since I don’t live close to my family.)  

 

Anyway, in the meeting they tell her, if you still want to be considered for partner, you’re going to have to give us all of you.  You can see the hurt in her face as she wagers her own identity and goals versus her role as mom.  But she knew, as we all know, you can have it all, just not all at once.  Something has to give.  So she said to them, heartbroken, but knowing she’s made the right decision, “I thought I could do it all...but I can't, not now, anyway.”  

Reality!  So many television shows, even the reality shows, have a hard time trying to get down to the root of what is so real. But Parenthood does it with finesse. I feel happier every  time I watch an episode.  You should tune in!  Relatable brings relief.

Dream Catchers

  “Mommy, I had a terrible dream last night.”  Callie looked up at me as she solemnly recounted the dream  filled with witches and monsters, all the while playing with the bubbles in the bathtub.

  “Honey, it’s okay to have bad dreams sometimes,” I encouraged as I scrubbed the soap into her scalp.  Even though they are unpleasant, they are not real and we always wake up.” 

She closed her eyes as the warm water rinsed her hair.  Her eyes popped open and matter of factly she pointed out:  “Mommy—that dream catcher you gave me doesn’t work!”

  The fascinating part of this story was I’d given her the dream catcher nearly a year earlier, and we’d had only one conversation where I explained its purpose. Native American legend has it that good dreams slip through the web of a dream catcher during the night, and bad dreams become caught in the web and are perished by morning light.   It hung on her bed as a permanent fixture…and I’d still completely forgotten about it and assumed Callie had too.

  I was amazed by the memory of my 3 year-old at the time…and somewhat sad too.  I’d given her something she’d truly counted on and it had let her down.  I now think twice now before making promises of anything that has to do with folklore...or anything else for that matter that I'm not 100% confident in!  ~Trina

The End to an Epic Summer

I've always wondered what it would be like to spend a summer at home with my children.  To not have to bash heads and battle to the end over a week off when all the other mom's children were also out of school. To know that spring breaks, fall breaks, Christmas break...they are all mine with my kiddos.  What a fabulous feeling.  No trying to get it on the calender first, or hoping there's enough coverage at the office.  Just making plans and looking forward to time with my family.  I'm almost still not sure it's really real.

By the time I figured out I should enjoy myself, I truly to not have to go back to the hustle and bustle of my previous life, summer was fading away. We finally have figured out somewhat of a schedule (schedule, ha! we hang out in our pj's somedays till noon!), and it's time to change again.  Going to bed early, getting up earlier, taking Callie to school.  Getting Clayton in a schedule of being home without his sister.  Gymnastics. Sports.  Life.  And I'm sure just as I figure out how to handle that, it will be winter break, or summer again before we know it.  Life flies by, and if you aren't paying attention...you won't catch all the unforgettable moments.

As we school shop and prepare for this next phase, everyone is excited.  Callie is happy about meeting new friends and just school in general.  I'm excited about having time with Clayton by myself; just mommy and son time, and seeing Callie in her element - a social setting..  Shannon's excited to see Callie learn and thrive as we're sure she'll do in school.  However, intertwined with this excitement is a bit of sadness.  I'm a bit reluctant to let go of this summer.  Of the first phase of this new life I've begun.  The excitement and dreams about a new future for me.  The endless moments with my kids swimming, hiking, fishing, or just hanging out. Spending time with the best of friends and neighbors.  The end of our new beginning.  I know beautiful and amazing times are in our future, but this is one epic summer I'm going to hold on to, forever.  I thank God I had the opportunity! ~Trina

Why Mommies Can't Get Sick

I don’t care what anyone says, modern day mommies are the head of households.  They make schedules happen, meal plans happen, often times do the grocery shopping, take care of the bills, make sure everyone has clean underwear, clean teeth and so forth.  And some work full-time jobs too.

Men are so important, of course I have to say that.  Often times they do help with household chores, the outdoor work, the car oil and so forth.  They make important decisions and are the mainstay behind discipline.  If I have car trouble or any mechanical issues I automatically start freaking out…because I know nothing.  I call my husband and he’s calm, cool and collected and can normally fix any issue with me over the phone.  He comes up with great problem solving ideas, and altogether is a great partner for me.  I fly by the seat of my pants when needed; he plans everything with the utmost thought and care (even if it is last minute).  But when it comes to the glue that holds the family together? That’s mommy, and I’m sure all men would agree with me.

So that’s why as mommies we can’t get sick.  We have this maternal instinct when our children are sick to care for and baby them.  Men don’t have a maternal instinct.  So when we get sick, we are wasting our time beating our (hurting) heads against a wall wondering why they won’t take care of us like our moms did.  They are asking us when dinner will be done, or should they just go pick something up (hint, hint, will you cook)?  Rather than shoot invisible darts at them with your eyes, remember they have never been moms.  That’s why when they are sick, they act like babies.  They had their mommies to care for them!  We did too, but now…our mommies are gone.  We are the moms. 

There are a few women who are reading this thinking my husband is so great, he waits on me hand and foot when I’m sick.  Well if you aren’t newly wedded and you have children – you are lucky.  The rest of you are reading this laughing or nodding because we’re all in the same boat.

On Monday I started having severe pain with my menstrual cycle.  Since this happened with my last cycle, I was concerned.  It wasn’t until I doubled over in pain and nearly threw up, my husband took me seriously.  While he was being helpful, I could tell he truly didn’t understand my need to lie in bed all day.  While that pain eventually subsided with pain medication; a severe throat and vomiting came on later.  I heard him at one point hollering at the children to watch their movie while he watched his hunting show.  I came unglued…

“You seriously want them to watch another minute of TV when you are going to go to work tomorrow with me feeling like crap and that’s all they are going to do?  You are really going to watch hunting shows while the dishes are piled up in the sink and the kids made messes around you – knowing I will have to clean it all up later?  Seriously?” I screamed at him, while I went in to get both our kids to play a learning card game.  I was furious.  He looked at me in dismay, then got up and did the dishes, and helped pick up.  Later, he took the kids outside to play.

I think men just don’t get it in general.  I do more around the house sick with kids in a day then he does if he’s watching them for a day perfectly healthy. He doesn’t cook or clean.  He doesn’t remember to brush their teeth, and if he puts them to bed, usually only one of them gets a book.  I come home to a disaster and he’s looking at me like, hello, I just had both kids!  They just aren’t programmed to do what we do. 

So rather than throw myself a little pity party knowing I’m destined to never be sick and pampered again (you’d think I’d know this after over  7 years of marriage), I have to come to grips with the fact that men aren’t women.  They aren’t moms.  Shannon, if he was nurturing like a woman, would fail in many other areas I need him to be manly in.  I would plain not be attracted to someone who would rather run around the house and clean and cook than be outside shooting his bow or be in the outdoors in general.  I also know many friend’s husbands who go out to guys night when their wives are sick.  So if he’s home watching the hunting channel, that’s better than being out drinking beer somewhere – although I feel the need to say I wouldn’t be with someone who left me when I was sick to go out drinking beer…just sayin.

So I’ve decided to do as I always do, write to my other mommy friends and whine like we often do over a glass of wine together - why is it that mommies aren’t allowed to be sick?  It’s not fair! 

~Trina

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

  I had my second breakdown of the week, and it was only Tuesday. 

  My four-year-old was crying and throwing a fit because the clothes I’d picked out for her weren’t jiving with her mood for the day.  She wanted a dress (in the middle of winter, mind you), and I’d picked out an adorable pair of skinny jeans, a pink sweater, and boots.  Rather than give in to my bartering like she usually does over clothes, she stood firm.  It would be a dress or nothing she told me in the strongest preschool voice she could muster.  I rolled my eyes and marched out to find my son to get him dressed.  I walk into his room; clothes strewn everywhere.  My little two-year-old also had his own fashion agenda, and it didn’t include getting dressed anytime soon. 

   We should’ve left the house ten minutes ago, I thought as his diaper came flying.  I sigh and give in, yelling at my daughter to throw a dress on; I really didn’t care at this point.  She claps in glee at her small victory, as I silently curse.  I know this will only mean trouble tomorrow morning.

   I wrestle my son down while he screams and writhes as I fight to put his diaper on.  By the time I’d finally found a pair of sweatpants in the piles of clothes on the floor, it was too late to find a matching sweatshirt.  I told myself that for one day…he didn’t have to match.

   After about five minutes of full on screaming (and maybe a curse word or two), I had both kids buckled in their carseats, ready to head out.  Tears were starting to form behind my eyes at the thought of being late, once again.  It was snowing and there was no way I could speed.

   Out of the backseat I hear a yelp.  “Bubba pooped mommy!  It stinks real bad.” 

   I sigh, put my keys back in my purse, and pick up my phone. 

   “Yes, hello Sandy.  I just wanted to let you guys know I won’t be coming in today.  Yes, yes, both kids are sick.  Thank you, yes, we will get some rest.  I hope to see you tomorrow.”   

~Trina

Keeping Up with the Cleavers...or Not So Much

Dear June, I must say, I'm exhausted.  I would like to know, how did you do it?  Did you take a small dose of crack-cocaine each morning?  Or did you simply drink coffee until you crashed?  


So, I'm thinking I'm going to be really skinny on this new path I've chosen.  I rarely sit down, because I'm running constantly.  If I sit down to eat, I'm getting back up because one of my children needs something.  Eating, what's eating?  Yesterday I realized I didn't even have breakfast by the time lunch started.  People have constantly asked me, "aren't you afraid you will get bored staying  home?"  Ha, fat chance!  I don't have time to think, let alone get bored.  I'll go crazy and they'll have to give me meds before I get bored.  By the time the kids are getting ready for nap, I'm so desperately in need of a nap myself that there will be no quiet time for me, at least now.  All I need is sleep.

I will say, while I'm exhausted, and not quite used to answering the constant calls of mommy this or mommy that, I'm having a great time.  I already have a tan from being outside with the kids in the pool.  My flowers are looking amazing, because I have the time to mess with them, not look at them with disdain when I get home from a long day at work.  While my house isn't cleaner per say, I definitely have time to pick it up as we go, which is a totally new concept for me.  Last night, we stayed up till 9:30 and played ladders, an outdoor game I'm actually pretty darn amazing at, while the kids ran around and played (Clayton, as naked as a jaybird).  Then, we all came in and had homemade icecream.

I feel myself morphing into this different person.  My goal was to focus on my kids this summer, and then this fall really push for my writing career to launch.  Of course, time is money in that business so I have to focus on it to a small degree at least until then - but I've realized something important this last week and a half; I'm focusing on me, even while chasing around two wild kiddos.  I ran outside yesterday a.m. without the worry of time.  I did my ab work out.  I took a nap.  I researched some new markets I'm going to query for articles.  I drank my coffee and let the kids wake up at their own leisure.  I'm, healing.

Healing from what you ask?  Healing my wounds from a life full of stress, hustle, and bustle.  Healing from the guilt of missing so many important moments with my children (I smile with glee to see what Mr. Clayton has in store for me today-he's talking up a storm now).  Healing from thinking I constantly have to be perfect, and do everything perfect.  Healing from the daily, choking fear I'd have to do something for the rest of my life that I didn't love.

In the meantime, Mrs. Cleaver, I could I get some of that crack?  I have a long day today.

~Trina

Different Kids, Different Ages, Different Stages...It's ALL GOOD!

Admit it...you've been one of those moms.  The mom who's child is talking first, going on the potty first, walking first...whatever.  Even if you have enough willpower to not say it out loud, you've definitely thought it.  "Oh, John's walking already?  What is he, 12 months?" you say, then think to yourself, my Sally was walking at 8 months!  Even if we aren't competitive, it's part of our nature as mothers to want our children to do well and be the best at everything they do.  


Callie started walking at 9 months old.  She started out walking along tables and couches, and before long, she was taking steps unassisted.  Then, she was talking.  When I say talking, I mean, chatting up a storm.  I was constantly amazed at how we were having conversations so early on.  We started potty training at the age of 2, and while she still had accidents throughout the year (and still do sometimes), she was fully potty trained by the time she was 3 years old.  She became advanced at everything she tried almost immediately; puzzles, games, sports of any kind.  We have always been so proud.  I tried not to be one of those moms....but often times I failed miserably.


Then came along Clayton.  While he started sleeping through the night at 6 months old (Callie didn't until she was 2), everything else was much slower.  He didn't crawl until he was 7 months old, much different than Callie, although I can't remember her exact age, I know it was sooner.  He didn't walk until he was 12 months old, and now he's 2 and still not talking a whole lot, he just screams "mommy" and points when he wants something.  If I don't understand what he wants, Callie translates.  When it comes to puzzles or games, he throws them.  Books, he rips the pages, while Callie sits patiently, waiting to actually hear the story.  Potty training?  Ha!  Not even in the cards yet-he runs when I even want to change his diaper...or mention the toilet.


You always hear, all children are different.  But, I'm not sure we really get it.   Studies show crawling or scooting can begin somewhere around 3-6 months, and is normal to be seen at 6-9 months.  Normal walking ages begin from 9 months, up to 15 months.  While 18 months is a little late, it could just be unusual and not a sign your child is significantly behind or that something is wrong.    From 18 to 24 months, (though there is a lot of variability) most toddlers are saying about 20 words by 18 months and 50 or more words by the time they turn 2. By age 2, kids are starting to combine two words to make simple sentences, such as "baby crying" or "Daddy big." A 2-year-old should also be able to identify common objects, common pictured objects, indicate body parts on self when labeled, and follow two-step commands (such as "Please pick up the toy and give it to me").


Am I going to have a breakdown or feel Clayton is completely behind because he's not talking as fast as his sister, or because he's behind what experts say is normal?  No.  Maybe I would have with Callie, but after two children I've learned that there are too many variables.  If you notice the statistics above, there's one similarity: they vary greatly in age.  There's no way for an expert to tell you the exact month a child should be doing this or that, because they all are different and grow at different paces.  Throw a sibling into the mix, and you have an entirely new set of variables.  Callie constantly is answering for Clayton, or asking questions for him.  The poor boy doesn't have time to talk half the time because his sister is chatty kathy! 

Stop comparing not only yourself as a mom, but your child to other people's children.  I guarantee your child is going to excel in some areas and do some things quicker - whether it be potty training or learning to read.  Then, there will be areas other children will do better in or do faster than your child.  It's an obvious conclusion, but one we still have a difficult time grasping as mothers.  I can't tell you how often I hear, "but, so and so's child is doing this.  I must be doing something wrong."  Including myself.  We aren't doing something wrong.  Our children are just huge blessings from God, and have their own agendas as far as how fast or slow they are going to advance.  Lets revel and support their growth, no matter what the pace.

~Trina

How Much is Too Much?

It's a discussion I joke around with my friends about frequently.  We poke fun and laugh about the fact we all revel in a glass or sometimes a bottle, of wine.  After a stressful day, there's nothing like sitting down and having that first sip, feeling your shoulders relax and your worries slip away.  After awhile, this may be that one thing you look forward to after a hectic day.  That one moment of utter peace, no matter how quickly it fades.

I believe I was blessed without an addictive bone in my body.  I know this for a fact because in my experimental, wild partying days...I long ago would have been addicted to something, anything - most definitely drinking.  I always had the ability to pick up something, then stop without a second thought.  I've seen friends and family go the other direction though...and it makes me wonder what in my genetics makes me immune to such things.  Why some people have a vice that takes over their lives, and other people can control it.  It doesn't seem fair...however because I'm at the positive end of that ratio I'll take it without too many complaints.

I've went months where the only drink I ever picked up was on the weekend, depending if we were at a social event.  Then there's times where I have at least a glass of wine every night.  Especially lately, because the stress from work and trying to balance life in general has me so tuned up all the time I need something to help me relax.  I've decided due to calorie intake, no more wine Monday-Thursday.  Just like that.  Instead, I've started running again to release the stress and anxiety.  I'm assuming I'll have better, healthier results...don't you think? While I thoroughly enjoy having a glass of wine while I cook...it's really not a big deal.  

I wonder, how much is too much?  When do you cross the line into that place where you can't go back?  I read an article recently about a mom who started putting wine in her coffee mug in the morning.  She started noticing that she was shaking and had this urge to drink, starting as early as 9:30 am.  I don't know about you, but I can't even imagine drinking wine at 9:30 am.  Back in my twenty's, we had a few camping trips where the early mornings began with Boone's farm. Who didn't at that age!? Now I think...noon maybe, but 9:30?   No, coffee please!  

So, I ask you, how much is too much? For me, too much of anything is when I lose control.  That goes with eating, drinking....anything.  If I feel the control slipping, I re-evaluate because I hate the feeling that I don't have a good grip on the reins.  And when it comes to my life, I like to be the one steering...

Loving Yourself First

What does that mean exactly?  Me being the positive, the glass-is-half-full kinda girl - I'm drawn to sayings such as this one: love yourself first, and everything else will follow.  Okay, I get it...however more recently when I read this advice it was in a parenting article.

I thought to myself, okay; they must mean that by portraying love for myself, my child will be more apt to display similar habits and be more confident in general.  But, then I started thinking, as I often do. What about by loving myself, I'll then be more forgiving of my children, therefore more patient, kind....loving.  You get the point.

Or...what about this; love yourself first meaning, giving yourself enough time, whatever amount that is, to rejuvenate.  To be a better mother because you have real you time.  Allowing yourself to get back into that hobby, whether it be writing, drawing, painting...scrapbooking- even if it's just 30 minutes a day, an hour a week, whatever.  If you have more time for you, you'll make sure the time you have with your kids is quality time.  And overall, your family is a healthier, happier unit as a whole.

Or, what about taking care of yourself?  If you love yourself enough to say, I care about how I look, period.  I'm not going to let myself go as so many moms do.  I'm going to eat well, I'm going to excersice.  I'm going to wear makeup or do my hair, or whatever it is that I consider pretty.  I don't know about you, but I always feel better when I'm in better shape, when I've had time to shave my legs...dye those grays...etc.  Doesn't that make me a better mom?  Doesn't that teach my children to take care of themselves as well?

Or is loving yourself just simply saying, I'm good with where I'm at.  I've morphed into this wonderful woman, this great mother.  Yes, I'm not what I was in my 20's.  I'm frumpy some days, I'm carrying around an extra ten pounds, I don't have enough me time, and I don't really care if I have hair long enough on my legs to braid; hey, I'm just lucky if I get in a shower these days. 

I've determined I do love myself.  Maybe not first, but somewhere in the middle.  I'm also my biggest critic, which I'm painfully aware could pass down to my offspring, so while I'm working on this, it is a work in progress.  I think at the end of the day I believe loving yourself is more than just being confident.  It's knowing your flaws, and embracing the ones you can't or aren't willing to change; and working on the others.  It's also knowing your strengths, and while you don't have to flaunt them (yes, we all know a few too many self back-patters) you should use them to your advantage.  Acknowledge them.  Appreciate them more than you focus on the flaws.

For me, loving myself entails much of the above.  It's taking the time I need for me, to be a better mom.  It's having my own life, no matter how little time I actually get to spend enjoying it.  It's feeling love toward my children, and never resentment because I've found a true balance.  It's feeling good about how I look because I take pride in looking good.  I'm just not okay with frumpy, period.  Loving yourself first isn't about being selfish, it's about figuring out what makes you happy, and what makes you, you.  While it's different for everybody, it's much more than simply being confident.    ~ Trina

Motherhood is Our Hunger Games

I was Katniss shivering, exhausted in a foreign arena. Borderline hopeless. Torn between throwing my hands up in defeat and summoning the energy to realign my strategy. I had no idea how I was going to meet the latest challenge the Gamemakers had thrown my way. It’s at that very moment it occurred to me; this is our Hunger Games. Motherhood is our Hunger Games.

Our children are the Gamemakers. I think that’s obvious. They dictate how much or how little sleep we’ll get. Whether or not we will get to enjoy any given feast. They even have a hand in if we find time to feed ourselves properly some days.  And thanks to some of their decisions and actions, we find ourselves in the final round sparring with another tribute-ironically, the same person we married before the Gamemakers even existed.

Just when you get used to the latest phase, the game takes a turn. Your baby is sleeping through the night at three months?  How wonderful, but hold that thought! Feeling mighty proud that your toddler listens when you say “no” or “don’t”? Something tells me it won’t last! All you can do is work your strengths and be prepared for an imminent change.

As you huddle alone thinking of your next gameplay, random bits of advice from your mentor go through your head. The pearls of wisdom you held dear appear first. Remember, you can’t say “I love you” enough! Or Never let them see you sweat.  When you’ve reflected on all of the good advice, you the tidbits you weren’t too crazy about start looking pretty good. Just let him cry it out-crying never hurt anyone. You ultimately conclude that she must’ve known what she was talking about; after all, she raised you.

You’ve got to think of something!  So, you beg quietly to the sky: where is my silver parachute? Your hopes are high but almost anything will do. A manual that will walk you through each new puzzle that is sprung on you. An all-expense paid two-night stay in a cozy hotel room anywhere just to give you a couple of nights of solid, restful, worry-free sleep after a day or two of laying by a pool sitting margaritas with your girlfriends. A pint of ice cream would even work magic at this point! Nothing appears. Damn my sponsors, you can’t help but think!

With each new twist, we invent tricks to help us maneuver one step ahead of the Gamemakers. Katniss pulled out the berries as a solution to a desperate moment. You whip up one of Jessica Seinfeld’s hidden-veggies-in-a-meal recipes and your non-vegetable-eating toddler magically devours two full servings of cauliflower.

Does this mean we are Katniss?  A spirited woman who often found her hair in a messy frame around her face as she constantly moved around most of her day, fighting to survive with a piece of her own  identity and maybe a nap in a world where the rules keep changing.  Seems pretty clear to me.  But what say you?  Are we the Katniss and is this our Hunger Games?

A NEW New Years Resolution

I’ve decided I’m going to look at new year’s resolutions in a new way...no longer with the same, shallow intensity as previous years.  My resolution every year is usually to lose weight.  I don’t smoke, I’m not an alcoholic (maybe a wino…does that count?), don’t have a drug addiction…and since I’m really not considered overweight (unsatisfied and mentally warped doesn’t count as overweight does it?) I’m not making my new year’s resolutions about me this year.  Which actually feels quite strange.  Selling our book isn’t really a resolution because it’s simply going to happen…it’s all in God’s master plan; I’m sure of that.  I don’t want a better house, I don’t need to get promoted…I really don’t want any more toys so to speak. So why do I not feel more satisfied?  Why do I not feel my life is already perfect, nothing needs to change?  Well…because life and happiness aren't about material things.  It isn’t about being thinner, or hotter, or more successful.  If you noticed, all the things I named above are based solely on materialistic views.

So, what do I want for 2012?  What do I need for my soul to feel complete?

I want more quality time with my family.  I want more time to write, to pour my soul out on paper and transform into the magic it does when I’m alone and have the time to do it.  I want more valuable time with my children. I need more time. 

Since having Clayton, our schedule is more jam packed, and crazier than ever.  I feel like we rush from home in the morning to daycare, work, then rush home again to simply cook dinner, bath time…reading and bed.   And like Kenny Chesney says (and no, I'm not really a Chesney fan)…don’t blink.  Before you know it, it will be all gone.

How do I provide more quality family time, when we simply don’t have the time?  What do I cut out?  What do I shave from to get the time?  What is less important?  Or, here’s a thought I ponder: Is it about making more time, or simply enjoying & savoring the time  I already have…more?

My dad recently told me being a grandfather is so great because he finally can sit down, and enjoy spending time with the kids.  He doesn’t have to rush to work…and he knows how sacred those moments are because they are gone in a flash.  How do I get that grandparent mentality?

Whatever the answer is…I’m determined to end 2012 knowing that I at least savored those special times with my children…that first real sentence from Clayton.  Baking with Callie…watching them put together a puzzle or coloring a picture.  It may be only a few moments…but I want to treasure those special memories for eternity.  Look back and know that while I may not have had the time of most mothers…I equally enjoyed the time I did have. ~Trina

Doing it All

I am often asked by friends and family how I do it all.  They want to know how the heck I take two young children to two different places in the morning, make it to work, work an 8 hour day, then turn around, get both kids…head home…cook a home cooked meal, then clean the kitchen, give baths, story-time…etc, etc.  You get the point.

So I got all geared up to write this article.  And my fingers hovered over the keyboard for several minutes…and nothing.  How do I do it?  How am I not nuts…or, maybe I am nuts but how am I still doing it all.  I could give you my daily schedule, tell you I’m not stressed most of the time, that I have it all figured out and hold it all together.  That I know exactly all the secrets to time management and organization.  I know the tricks to multitasking and ultimately always get the job done.  But—that would be total BS!

There are days I wake up and am threatening to rip both my children’s heads off (you think I’m kidding!) if they don’t get a move on it.  Callie loves to sleep in and is a bear cat in the morning!  Clayton isn’t much better.  I can’t count the days I’ve driven to work crying because I was going to be late, the kids just weren’t cooperating, I’d forgotten Callie’s lunch, or all the other things that could and did go wrong that morning. 

There’s also been many nights I’ve had breakdowns because my house wasn’t clean.  I have serious OCD about my house, and can’t handle it being dirty or messy.  Working full time and having two young children makes this nearly impossible…but I can’t convince my brain.  So, Shannon being the great husband he is helps extra that night, giving baths and helping me fold the laundry afterwards. 

The top tips to making my household run smoothly, when it does, are simple: make your menu for the week, then your grocery list by aisle.  If you want to cook healthy meals, you should be shopping on the outer skirts of the grocery store mainly (dairy, produce, fresh foods).  Do a load of laundry every other night.  Enlist your hubby’s help to split chores, then pick one day consistently to do them.  Our day is Saturday or Sunday am for floors, deep kitchen cleaning, and bathrooms.  The hubby should also be helping for bath nights, story nights, whatever works for you.  If you are a working mommy, then you should not be doing it all!  Some husbands cook (mine doesn’t, which is okay because I love cooking!)  so you can trade off cooking nights as well.  Have a schedule on your fridge for groceries, meals (then you remember what meats to take out to thaw) what you need to remember for your kids backpack the next day, lunches…so on and so forth.  Crock pot meals work great for soccer and basketball practice nights. 

I think the best tip of all is knowing your limits.  I know the amount of me time I require and if I don’t get it, then watch out!  It can get ugly.  Another thing to note is that I have more energy than most people…I can do five things at once as long as it gets the job done.  It may not be up to your standards, but it works for me!  I eat, type, clean, talk,  and think faster than the average person, because that’s how I’m made!  I’ve given up trying to slow down, although many of my bosses and friends have told me I need to.  This is how I am, and it’s the reason for so many of my strengths, including being able to do so much.   If you are detail oriented, meticulous person…your list will just have to be much shorter.   You take the time to make sure everything is in order and perfect, thus, there is just simply less time.  This is good too!

In addition...some great advice a friend once told me…do what works for you; stop trying to be someone else or do things the way they do (I guess this means I’ll never be Martha Stewart!  Crap!).   ~Trina

Finding Your Own Identity as a Mommy

I've decided to write this article because it's another one I feel quite passionately about.  Through having two children, both under the age of 5; being married 6 years and deciding that it's never always going to be a walk in the park; and finally deciding that I've  found what I want to be when I grow up...I've found my true self.  Not only as a person, but as a mom.

     Although I did get lucky in marrying a wonderful man at the age of 23, I've decided no woman should marry before she is 30 years old.  Seriously!  We don't even know who we are as a person yet.  How on earth can we know who we will be a as a wife?  And don't even get me started on going to college at 18.  At 18 years old I wanted to be a lawyer.  Ha!  I have a hard time sitting at a desk and focusing for 8 hours.  Researching laws, remembering details, working till 3 am....I'm already cringing.

     I became a mother at the age of 25.  Much too young I assure you, however if you'd known me at 13, you'd understand.  I was babysitting kids by the truckloads and wanted to have at least five kids by the time I was 30.  Again, at 25 I had no idea who I even was yet.  Let alone, who I wanted to be as a mom.  I saw other other moms in action, friends and relatives, and friends of friends.  I immediately judged and assumed I'd do better; I thought I had everything figured out.  

    I've written plenty of stories to explain to new moms and mothers of very young babies one important thing:  Do not judge other moms.  It will bite you right in the ass.  However, this article isn't focused on that so I won't go into it.  The point I'm making is that at 25, I had no flipping clue what kind of mother I was going to be.

    I thought being a mom entailed picking out the cutest outfits, making sure your babies had the healthiest foods; and assuring that your children partook in creating the latest crafts and putting together the age-appropriate puzzles.  Learning words, the ABC's, spelling their name; this all was part of who I would be as a mom as it represented who I wanted my children to become.

   Wrong!  In bright red letters, see the word WRONG!!!  Identity as a mother has nothing to do with what you teach your children or how smart your kids will be, or anything to do with what America's standards are for our society of mothers.  

    Your identity is who you become, what you create, what you want for you as a mom.  I learned fast I don't have the patience to sit through a full puzzle, so instead,  the majority of the time I teach them the ropes, then I watch with glee as they learn on their own.  I teach them the ABC's by singing to them, then watch as their little sponge brain's associate the song with the actual letters.  I play with each of my children as much as a I can, while still being myself as a wife; as a woman.  Let me tell you, that differs very much from how much my best friend, or my sister, or even my own mother played with her children. 

    I discipline my children very differently from other mothers, and of course I get advice every time I turn around.  Could I give you advice?   Sure!  But since you are not me, and your children are not mine, it could very well be a waste of both our times.  Find your way!  Find what works for your kids!

   I am amazed at the woman I've become; at the mother I see myself forming into every day while I mother and love my children.  Am I perfect?  Hell no.  But neither is that twit down the street that is pretending to be.  I'm owning up to being imperfect...that's just the way I am.  

  My advice is pick the books you enjoy reading to your child, and then the books they enjoy.  Choose the amount of TV you want for your children to watch; not what books and magazines say is appropriate.  Decide what form of discipline works for your family, not what works for your friends.  Cook the meals you feel comfortable feeding your family; if that includes fast food, so be it!  Everyone's situation is different.  Everyone of us is different.  You have to come up with what works for you.  I figure, as long as I know my identity; who I want to be as a mother and what I want to accomplish in that role- I am winning all the way around! ~Trina

    

Give It Up Ladies-No Mom is Perfect!

It's funny, thinking back on the misconceptions I'd had about parenting prior to giving birth to my daughter, Callie.  There were several ideas I'd had in my head about how my life as a parent would go, and actually, many of which were wrong.  By the time I had my son Clayton, I had it all figured out.  Don't judge, don't assume (we all know what happens when you ass-u-me) and definitely don't think you are going to be perfect.  Seriously, you will be eating your words.

   My kids were never going to eat too much sugar.  They were never going to watch SpongeBob.  They would be in bed by 8pm every night and they darn sure wouldn't be sleeping in any bed but their own!  By the time they were one-year-old, they'd be off the bottle, and if they had a pacifier, guess what peeps...that would be gone too.  My kids would never be the ones throwing food at the fancy restaurant, or talking back, or being a brat in public.  We'd spend evenings similar to the Brady Bunch or the Cleavers, eating dinner together and chatting about our day, followed up by a puzzle or some other family-fun, learning-type activity.  Ha!  How ignorant I was!

   Can I give you sound advice from a real-life mommy of two kiddos?  Shut your mouth.  Seriously!! When you want to give unsolicited advice to another parent, or when you think for two seconds you know more than someone else about being a mommy...don't go there.  There's nothing that pisses me off more than a person who a) has no kids or b) has less kids or a younger child than me telling me that Callie or Clayton shouldn't do this, or shouldn't do that.  Unless you are my mom, or I ask for your advice...please keep it to yourself.  I'm not an idiot! I watched other parents and said the same exact things...trust me. And guess what friends, Karma is a real you know what.  It was my kids (both of them) throwing food at the restaurant, or talking back in front of company.  Or going to bed super late after watching SpongeBob.  Both my kiddos have slept in our bed off and on, and I'm just thankful to be able to use the word functional when I describe my family.  We are who we are, and we are far from flawless.

   I love the mother I have become, and I love the children I have made and taught and loved.  However, I know that I was just like all the other moms out there, I wanted to be perfect, I wanted to be the best...I judged others thinking I'd do better.  This race of motherhood isn't a competition of who can finish last with the fastest time on the clock, it's a silent war we must conquer in order to come out whole and sane when we cross that finish line.  It's just getting there that is the true victory.

~Trina

Unreasonable Expectations

How did I picture preschool for my child?  Just like everything else I imagine.  All happy-go-lucky, with roses and sugar-coated cherries on top. 

     Don’t we all picture our children’s lives this way?  Perfect?  We are going to be the best parents, have the smartest children, the greatest home-lives.  And then when reality hits we don’t know what went wrong.

     I dropped Callie off for her first day of preschool with a grin on my face and a tear in my eye.  How did we get here already I wondered?  That afternoon I got a follow-up letter when I picked her up telling me how wonderful my little girl was and how much happiness and enthusiasm she contributed to the group.  A mental check mark in my brain as an early parenting success scored. 

     It wasn’t until mere weeks later I learned that Callie was having a few issues.  Her pretty blonde teacher met me at the door with an optimistic smile on her face that could only mean trouble.  The way she started was classic: “Callie is such an addition to our group; so charming and full of life…but…you should know there are some things we are working on.”

     She proceeded to tell me in a no less bubbly manner that my daughter was having some trouble listening, and had been caught telling a lie as well as stealing.  Yes, a young criminal I had on my hands already. 

     I drove home in tears.  My terrible parenting had surely led to a future drug-abuser, jail-bird, schizophrenic, and possibly even worse.  What was I to do?

     After sifting through my self-pity filled loathing party, my dear friend convinced me that stealing a sea shell and lying by saying she hadn’t hit a boy didn’t deem my daughter a future sociopath or drug dealer.  She was simply like all other typical four-year-olds…she was finding herself and learning about the do’s and don’ts of toddlerhood.  Just because I’d let her watch too many episodes of SpongeBob, and  even Jurassic Park in her dinosaur-loving days…didn’t mean I was a terrible parent.

    I think the dreams we let ourselves strive towards as parents are what sets us up for failure.  When we don’t reach our impossible goals we’ve set for ourselves when raising our little ones-we automatically are plagued by guilt and assume every small failure our children face is that of our own mistakes and parenting mishaps. 

   Let’s stop being so hard on ourselves as mommies.  Callie is beyond smart; to the point it scares me sometimes.  I will do my best to guide her and love her…and know that while neither of us is perfect and we will make mistakes, we are doing our best.  And…the best is simply all we can do! 

*Trina