Let’s Be Real — Special Guest Post by REAL Mom

You don’t have to be a mom to relate to our guest columnist.  You just need to own a Facebook account and have once said, “Oh that is bull$#!^ — nobody’s life is THAT perfect!”

So, without further ado, here’s a special guest blog by our dear friend, REAL Mom.

Let’s Be Real…

With today’s ability to connect with people over the Internet, even people I wouldn’t talk to in person, I find it hard to not get annoyed at all the perfect things being put out. Social media is filled with posts and tweets about how wonderful dating, marriage, kids etc. are. I really hope that the world is becoming as wonderful as it is being portrayed on these sites, but lets be real…it’s not!

I love the connections, and reconnections, I have made via these social sites but I have gotten to a point where I just want to make a full out rant asking people to stop posting about how perfect everything is. I am not asking people to stop posting about the wonderful things in their lives, but it needs to be balanced with reality. I would like people to look back at their past posts, blogs, tweets and see if what is portrayed is really reality. (I admit I have fallen into this trap, too).

I can say that I do not meet the status quo of perfect Facebook ™ parenting. I have a hidden sin. I am a REAL parent of REAL kids. I love them always, but don’t always like them. I am not perfect; my kids are not perfect. I do my best, I make mistakes and I pray that those mistakes don’t ruin my kids and make them burdens on society…or living in my basement with issues that only Dr. Phil can address.

In my world, for every wonderful achievement my kids make, there is at least one, to ten, days of attitudinal yelling and talking back. For every team made, there is a preceding fight about what time we have to leave, packing the appropriate attire, loading the car, trying your best, who is forcing whom to participate and whose fault it was that something was left at home.

For every term with straight ‘A’ report cards and honour roll status, there are many days of tears, discussions and screaming matches about how stupid it is to learn this stuff, when will they every need to know how to find the area of a triangle, and why school is actually important to attend since they “don’t learn anything anyway.” (These nights usually start with a parental game of Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who gets to take on the world-ending issue this time.)

For every nice picture of my kids together, there are many more of them fighting over who will stand where, who is touching whom and why they even have to take a picture. In fact, I have donned the mantra, “Shut up and smile; we are making memories” just to get them to stand still for the two seconds it takes me to get the perfect picture … to post.

Heck, even for every nice thing said about my kids, there are endless corrections about manners, cleanliness, respect, responsibility and why these traits are even important…all of which get me the infamous ‘eye roll.’ (Of course my kids swear that they don’t roll their eyes at me.)

Now that summer is upon us, I have the great privilege of spending whole days with my kids. We have fun, we laugh, we get along … mostly. There are moments, and days, though when I seriously consider selling everything I own, to move into a box so that I can afford to send them to year round boarding school…in another country.

Does this make me a bad parent? I don’t think so, it make me one of the many REAL ones out there. So, next time you worry about how your posts portray your kids; remember that sometimes it is nice to know that we are not alone on the bumpy parenting road. And if your life and kids are really so wonderful all the time, please do a reality show so I can see how it’s done or post your address online so I know where to send my family.

Now excuse me, I have to go post about my daughter’s latest earned varsity letter.

Islands

John Donne once wrote, “No man is an island entire of itself,” but when you’re in the hospital, it sure feels like it.

For those of you who don’t know, Bud is in the hospital right now, because that’s what happens when little guys have reactive airway disease and a virus gets in their respiratory system.

We’ve been here since Wednesday evening.  The three of us are situated in our own little room.  Everything we need is here — toilet, single-rider pull-out chair, crib, iPad.  Food and drink are brought to us and taken away from us.  We never have to leave.  We’re on our own little island.   No one else exists until they enter our door.  When they leave, they cease to be.

Yesterday I was standing near the door, and I heard someone outside say, “We’ll bring up the wheelchair.”  That’s when I  realized the island was just a facade. An illusion.  Somewhere, out beyond Door 5, are other kids.  Other parents.

The last time the three of us were in the hospital, it felt like we were on an island, too.  People just popped in with IVs full of wonderful labor-pain-numbing medicine.  Outside of my labor, and my TV, and my wondering when the dang baby was going to come, nothing else was.  Until we were rushed in the operating room.

Laying there, feeling nothing from the neck down, freaking out over whether Bud was okay, I remember hearing someone say, “The woman in Room 9 is waiting on her epidural.”  The anesthesiologist was with ME.  He was going to be with ME for probably another 30 or so minutes.  I thought, “Oh, man, that woman is probably suffering and cursing the anesthesiologist who is taking his good, old time.”  She lived on her own island, too.  Alone in her pain and her baby and her delivery.  Not knowing — or caring — that in the operating room down the hall a woman was giving verbal consent to an emergency C-section.

What creates these islands?  Is it selfishness or self-preservation?  I’m sure that 10 feet away from where I sit typing this is a kid who’s much, much worse than Bud.  He’s with a mom and dad who are much, much more sleep deprived than Hubby and me.

This morning, as the sun rose over IV drips and teddy bears, I thought about them for a moment.  But then I came back to my island.  That’s where I’ll be the rest of the day.

Two Ways to Ticking Me Off

The Great Universal Media Irkmaster must have pulled my name out of the lottery today.  In my inbox, I found not one (thanks Mea) but TWO (thanks ReallyCrankyDad) really, really, really, REALLY irritating news articles.

I’d like to use this space to rant about them.  I’ll try not to go on too long.  Really, I’ll try.

I’m so angry I could screeeaaammmmm!

Irritating News Story #1

By now you’ve probably heard about the New York Post’s story on rich New Yorkers hiring disabled people to accompany them to Disney World so they can cut lines.  Today a local blogger posted a story about her thoughts on the situation.  The story featured this gem –

“But the upside is the people with special needs who pimp themselves out for these wealthy families are earning an income that they could really probably use that they otherwise wouldn’t earn. They are able to spend a day with other people having fun that they otherwise might not get to enjoy.”

You. Have got.  TO BE. KIDDING ME!

Hey, let’s use disabled people for no other reason than to save time in the lines and justify the absolute immorality of this unethical behavior by saying “Hey, those disabled people can finally earn themselves an honest livin’!”  (Please, not my sarcasm.)

Puh-lease.  This is ridiculous, insulting and despicable.

Oh, you know that single mom who lives down the road?  Well, she lost her job because her company was downsizing and her high school diploma and lack of transferable skills put her at the bottom of the totem pole.  She might as well go be a hooker.  It’s an honest living.  And maybe one of the Johns will be cute.

Irritating News Story #2

I usually don’t mind Pat Robertson, but he really ticked me off this time.  You see, he told a woman seeking advice about her philandering husband that she should think about the good things he does, like put food on the table.  To be fair, the woman was asking for advice on how to forgive her husband, and Robertson’s advice to think about why she married him and his good features is pretty reasonable.

But then Robertson continues.  He says “men have a tendency to wander” and that the world is FULL of temptations, and that it’s on HER shoulders to “make a home so wonderful that he doesn’t want to wander.”

Oh, boy.  Oh boy, oh boy,ohboy,ohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy.

Basically what he’s saying is, “Hey, Mr. Husband, keep on cheating.  You have a doormat waiting at home for you.  She understands you’re assaulted by pornography, low-cut tops and strippers all the time.  If she doesn’t do her best to make the home inviting (cook all your meals; put on lipstick as soon as she wakes up; rub your stinky, fungus-riddled feet), you can’t blame yourself for straying.  Don’t worry, she’ll stick around and take the continual assault on her dignity.”

So what’s next, Interwebz?  What else do you got to tick me off?

How 13 Feels

Until this morning, I felt fine. 13 is no big deal (just an entire decade +3…no biggie). Yes, it’s a milestone, but it’s just another birthday, right?

Wrong! 13 is huge. Not only have 13 years come and gone, making me 13 years older (aghhhh!), but my Hail is also 13 now (signal teary eyes and the urge to sob for hours)?! Where did the sweet little nose and feet, constant smiles, hugs, kisses and snuggles go? Will she ever love me the same again? We used to be buddies, exploring the world together, but now…

Since she turned about 10 years old, our relationship has continued to change. Mostly, I have become her #1 enemy (not by choice). And, as a teacher who works with adolescents every day, I know this is perfectly normal; it’s just part of her becoming her own person and blossoming slowly into an independent woman. She’s just trying to makes sense of all the change she is experiencing too.

But, as a mom, and even as her “step-mom,” it sucks. No, … It’s devastating. It’s the deep kind of hurt that slaps you in the face over and over again, unexpectedly. Every time she speaks to me in a new, grating tone or says something like, “You’re 34, so you don’t know,” I realize that the days where she looked up to me with her sweet, adoring eyes are over.

I keep telling myself that it’s just karma, and that it’s normal (Let’s not talk about how I treated my mom until about 25…and I love her to death!). “Just take it in stride,” I tell myself. But, the slow transition has been sooooooo hard, for both of us I think. In fact, perhaps it’s been harder on her.

Although I don’t remember the hormonal ups and downs of adolescence (I actually think I may have been more emotionally stable then!), I do remember that everything was a BIG deal. And, every time my parents enforced a rule to protect me, I felt as if their entire goal was to ruin my life. Ashamedly, I often shouted that I hated them…ouch (So, so, so, so sorry mom and dad!!!).

I don’t want her to feel that way about me or her dad, but it may just be one of those unavoidable things in life. And, since advice is the very last thing she wants from me right now, I will put it safely on this page, so she can see it when she is ready, and hopefully she will revisit it often.

 

For My Hail—

~Don’t grow up too fast; time moves quickly enough.

~You don’t need a boyfriend or a man to make you feel whole. If he doesn’t accept you exactly the way you are…get rid of him IMMEDIATELY!

~When you feel like your entire world is shattered and there is no way it could get any worse, it will get better; I promise.

~Find out what you are great at…what you really have a passion for in life…and do it! Try new things without hesitation. Be adventurous and open-minded to the possibilities life offers! Don’t take the road most traveled and don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. Find your happy space!

~Stay balanced: Work hard and play hard. Work out, but challenge your mind too. Keep the people you love close but make time for yourself.

~Don’t settle…ever. Nothing is going to be perfect or exactly how you envisioned it, but that doesn’t mean you should accept anything but the best.

~Enjoy being young; youth is fleeting!

~Forgive those who hurt you. If you can let go of the pain and move forward, you will be a stronger person for it. Life has a way of using your pain to teach the lessons you need the most. Learn to forgive yourself too!

~You have an inner voice for a reason. Honor it. Whatever it tells you, listen and act!

~Daddy and I are always here for you! You will inevitably find yourself in a pickle at some point. Call us, talk to us, reach out. We love you and will know what to do to help.

~Having a few, really loyal friends who are there for you no matter what is much better than having a bunch of friends who may or may not be there when you need them.

~Treat others like you would want to be treated, even when it’s hard. We all have our bad days, pain that we are trying to overcome and issues we struggle with. Remember that we are all human and will inevitably mess up.

~Be grateful…for everything. There’s always going to be people who have more or less than you, but the grass is not greener on the other side…it’s really not.

~Love your body…I know that sounds weird, but your body will change with every new stage of your life – enjoy and celebrate it! Don’t listen to the music or media that tells you women must have “perfect” bodies. If you are healthy, you are perfectly you!

~Sex does not equal love. Don’t believe any guy who tells you this…ever. If he loves you, he will respect you and wait. Love should be butterflies and excitement when you are young. Sex on the other hand is painful and complicated before you are ready. When you are ready (about 20 years after you think you actually are…), it’s an amazing and beautiful addition to love.

~Give. Give of your time, give of yourself, give of your resources or your talents. Find a cause, a charity, a club or an organization that you love and give whatever you can. Whether it’s social, environmental, political or religious, helping others will reward you in ways that you never even imagined.

~Don’t repeat past mistakes. We all make mistakes. As long as you learn from them and move on, you will be fine.

~Be wise with your money, because no one else will. Save, save, save!

~Lastly (even though I have a million other things I want to tell you!), do as I say not as I do. I have not been a perfect parent, and I have made MANY (many, many) mistakes. And, I probably will need to keep working on my own challenges. But, I love you, daddy loves you and we want the best for you. That will never change…ever (Okay, now I’m sobbing!).

This is for all the dads who’ve lost a baby.

One of the ladies in my Molar pregnancy support group posted this for us, and I thought I’d share it with all of you.  XO for all the angel baby dads out there.  We know you’re grieving, too.

 

He Lost His Baby Too

It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief
Since ‘men dont cry’ and ‘men are strong’
No tears can bring relief

It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest

They always ask if she’s alright
And what she’s going through
But seldom take his hand and ask
‘My friend, but how are you?’

He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break
He dries her tears and comforts her
But ‘stays strong’ for her sake

It must be very difficult
To start each day anew
And try to be so very brave—
He lost his baby, too.

—	By Jodie Brolese

What Pees Might Come

People who don’t have overactive bladder have no idea what it’s like.  I’d like to educate them with this post.

The Jiggly Frenemy of OAB Sufferers Everywhere

A Night with Overactive Bladder

11:30 – You pee before going to bed.  You make sure to squeeze out every last drop.

11:30-11:41 – Check your phone for a few minutes.

11:42 – Realize it’s been 12 minutes since you peed, so you go pee again.  If you don’t, you’ll wake up in the middle of the night.

12:00 – You’re almost asleep when you feel a slight pressure on your bladder.  You try to ignore it.

12:02 – You’re still thinking about that pressure.  Surely you don’t have to pee; you just peed 20 minutes ago.  You don’t need to pee.  You don’t.  Think about something else.  It’ll go away.

12:05 – You just can’t stop thinking about needing to pee.  You need to stop thinking about it.  One of the steps to treating overactive bladder is through psychological reconditioning.  You know you need to train yourself not to go to the bathroom whenever you think about it.  You don’t need to pee.  You don’t.  Tell yourself.  You.  Don’t.  Need. To.  Pee.  It’s a false alarm.

12:10 – You should go pee.  If you don’t pee, you’ll wake up in the middle of the night needing to pee – or worse, you’ll have a pee dream.  You know, those dreams where you really, really have to pee, and you keep trying to pee, but you can’t.  Either you can’t find a bathroom or the bathroom is unusable.  It’s a terrible dream because it physically hurts and is panic-inducing.  Go to the bathroom.  Get up.  Go.  You don’t want to have one of those dreams.

12:11 – No.  You’re not going to pee.  You’re going to go to sleep and beat this nonsense.  Don’t let the bladder win!

12:15 – You ought to just get up to pee.  You’re going to get up eventually anyway.  The bladder always wins.  Now you’re just wasting time that could be spent sleeping because all you can think about is needing to pee.

12:17 – You’re so comfortable, though.  If you get up and pee, you’ll never be able to recreate the same awesome pillow positioning you have right now.  Ignore the pee!

12:25 – Son of a #$*@#!  You’re too wound up to sleep because you’re haunted by thoughts of having the pee dream.  You get up and go pee.

12:26 – It was only two tablespoons.  That wasn’t enough to have to get up to pee.  No.  No, two tablespoons is the difference between a 5AM wakeup and a 5:30 wake up.  It was good you peed.

12:30 – Why is this pillow so uncomfortable?!

??:?? – You really have to pee.  You push through the swinging bathroom doors.  The public restroom has oodles of toilets.  Use the first one.  Nope, you can’t.  There’s poop on the seat.  What about the next one?  Ugh.  It’s filthy – and there’s no toilet paper.  Okay, go down to the next open one.  Okay, good.  You go to lock the door.  No lock.  And a group of men just walked in.  There’s another one across the aisle.  This one doesn’t have a door.  But you really have to pee.  The men are walking around laughing.  You can’t pee in front of them.  Oh, man, pee pee pee, what are you going to do, pee pee pee, no good toilets PEE PEE PEE!

5:10 – It was a dream.  Your bladder is about to explode.  No, that’s not what it feels like.  It feels like there’s a 50 pound dumbbell sitting across your abdomen.  And someone’s pressing down on it.

5:11 – Run to the potty and pee.

5:14 – Still peeing.

5:17 – Return to bed.  Ahhh, the sweet relief of an empty bladder.  Now you can finally enjoy some sleep!

5:33 – Alarm.  Time to wake up.  &#($!

These Little Arguments

Hubby and Me on Our 5 Year Anniversary

My husband and I are pretty compatible. Some of my friends (ahem, Mea) might even say we’re boring because we’re so similar.  Don’t be fooled, people, Hubby and I get in arguments.  To prove that we’re not boring, here is a  small sampling of the arguments we’ve had over the past 6.5 years of marriage.

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Hubby: “Why are all these socks on the floor?  You’re never going to wear them again.”

Me: “Look at the pair I’m wearing right now.  These were on the floor this morning, and now I’m wearing them.”

Hubby: “You know, it’s the simple things like putting socks in the hamper that would make me happy.”

Me: “You mean simple like cleaning the crumbs off the counter?”

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Me: “Why do you always have to talk about serious stuff in the morning?”

Hubby: “I’m sorry that I wanted to talk to you about something that was on my mind.”

Me:  “No, you wanted to make me angry.  You know I don’t like to think in the morning.”

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Me: “I’m not a spendthrift like some other people’s wives.”

Hubby: “You just admitted that you spend a lot of money.”

Me: “No, I said I’m not a spendthrift.”

Hubby: “Yeah, you said you’re NOT thrifty.”

Me: “Spendthrift means you spend a lot of money.”

Hubby: “No it doesn’t. Hence the word thrift.”

Me: “Spendthrift means someone who spends a lot of money.”

Hubby: “How much do you want to bet?”

Me: “I don’t know.  Now you’re making me doubt that I know what that word means.”

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Hubby: “Why do you need another pair of black shoes?  You have three sitting in the study.”

Me: “Those are work shoes, and I need a pair of dress shoes for the wedding.”

Hubby: “You have five pairs of black shoes in the closet.”

Me: “Those are open-toed shoes and I need closed-toed ones because I have to wear tights and you can’t wear tights with open-toed shoes.”

Hubby: “You have two pairs of closed-toed shoes by the radiator.”

Me: “Those are old.”

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Hubby: “These pants have a tear in the pocket, I’m going to throw them away.”

Me: “Don’t throw them away, I can sew them back up.”

Hubby:  “You’ll never sew them.”

Me: “Yes, I will.  Besides, you still have your jumbotron khakis and your 1990 cargo pants.  Why would you throw away these nice, new dress pants?”

11.5 months later…

Hubby: “Are these the pants that have the tear in the pocket?  I’m going to pitch them.”

Me: “Don’t pitch them, we can patch them up.”

Hubby: “That’s what you said months ago and they’re still ripped.”

Me: “That’s because you didn’t remind me.”

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This post will be much better if you read it with THIS playing in the background.

Lies I Like to Tell Myself

A spontaneous post tonight…

After a very appreciated and eventful spring break, it’s time to go back to work tomorrow.

In an effort to relieve the nausea and knots in my stomach, here are the lies I tell myself, to help me better cope with trying to balance working full time and being a mom, wife, friend, sister, daughter, etc. I’d imagine, many of you are going through the same thoughts as I write:

1 – I will go to bed early tonight (Wide awake and kicking here! How about you??)!!!

2 – Tomorrow morning, I will resist the urge to hit the snooze button 5 times. Instead, I will get up early, make breakfast, do my hair and leave the house without rushing. Oh, and I will actually look in the mirror before I leave to make sure I at least match (Where’s my personal stylist when I need her?).

3 – No matter how tired I am after school, I will workout. Every. Day. (or at least 3 times a week??)

4 – Dinner will be planned ahead of time, gluten-free, healthy and praised by every member of the family (or else!).

5 – The managers at Giant will stop calling me by name, because I will not go every day to get something I need (Nice to see you again too!! Aghh! How embarrassing!).

6 – Every night, I will do a load of laundry and clean something in the house, so the weekend isn’t so crazy (1 week…this usually lasts 1 week.).

7 – I will not allow myself to get so tired that all I can do after the kids go to bed is stare like a zombie at the tv (Get off your butt and exercise I said!).

8 – 1 of the 5 books I’ve started will be finished soon. And I will get that new book I’ve been wanting!

9 – My husband and my friends will not feel neglected because I have too many other things that need to be done or I just don’t have the energy (Sorry guys…sigh…).

10 – I will have fun with the kids on a regular basis.

And last but not least, I will not cry when I drop lil man off at daycare tomorrow morning, because he’s going to have fun and play with his friends. I will miss him more than he misses me, right?

Is it too early to say that summer is almost here?

Totally in love!

One of my favorite pics of my sweeties! xo!

Let’s Live Together First!

The Dude is a little frustrated. While Molar Mother and Mea banter, quite fruitfully, over how to 12-step your way to a better marriage, CNN is posting this article: http://www.cnn.com/2013/04/04/living/women-premarital-cohabitation/index.html?hpt=hp_c3 . To save you the time, this article essentially says that living together before marriage is not only becoming more common in America, but it’s also been shown to lead to more marriages. I mean isn’t that what our country needs? More marriages! Not lasting marriages, not happy marriages, not healthy marriages, just more. More. More. Low on cash? Move in with your boyfriend. Been together long enough? Share an apartment. Don’t want to rush into anything? Pick out matching towels, but hold off on the rings.

I know what some will say: We lived together before we got married, and our marriage is completely happy. Hey, that’s great for you. But isn’t part of the fun of marriage learning what it’s like to live with your lover and best friend (I’m assuming those are the same person)? If you’ve already done that before getting married, then what’s actually changed for you aside from how you fill out your W-4?

I realize that we live in a society that scoffs at traditional values (I mean God forbid people waited to have sex until marriage), but when did we decide that marriage was simply the next step in a long line of relational intimacy intervals? When did America start seeing marriage as something to be decided upon over a bowl of lucky charms at the breakfast bar where you eat with your live-in partner? If that’s all marriage is anymore, then why even bother?

The Five Compatibilities for a Happy Marriage

Several years ago (pre-hubby), I had a brilliant revelation. I came up with the five things every couple needs to be compatible over to have a successful, happy marriage. Tonight, in a discussion with friends, I mentioned these Compatibilities. I’ve never publicly stated them before, and it’s well past time. So here goes!

Intelligence

If two people aren’t on the same intellectual plane, difficulties will ensue for a variety of reasons. One partner will feel inferior. One will feel superior. One might get bored. One might not be able to keep up. One might feel like the other can’t fit in with their peer group. Discussions will be difficult. Decisions might be difficult.

Sleep Schedule

Go ahead and laugh. But it’s true. If you like to sleep in late and enjoy naps, it will be hard meshing with someone who thrives on 5 hours of sleep and waking up at the crack of dawn. I think the only problem my freshman roommate and I had in getting along was sleep schedule. I wanted to stroll in late while she was sleeping; she wanted to have friends over while I was napping. We all value our sleep/wake hours, and a partner whose own preferences don’t jive might be seen as disrespectful.

Finances

This one might be the most predictable. A spendthrift and a spendaholic just don’t mix. It doesn’t’ matter if you and your spouse have joint accounts or separate, as a married couple your finances WILL intertwine. If a couple is saving up for a new home and one drops $500 on a pair of shoes while the other gave up their text messaging plan, it’ll cause friction.

Politics/Religion

I lumped these two together because they usually go hand and hand. People don’t need to be the same religion or follow the same political dogma per se. Rather they need to hold religion/politics in the same regard. If one person doesn’t care about politics, an activist-minded spouse is not a good fit. Imagine this – you really, really care about marriage equality. You think everyone, no matter gender, should be allowed the right to marry. You want all your friends to support the cause. How ticked are you going to be if your spouse responds to your fervor with this word – “Meh.”

Sexuality

Notice that I said sexuality, not just sex. I think this might be the silent marriage killer. Someone might not mind saying, “Hey, it bothers me that you spend half your paycheck on books,” but they probably aren’t as free saying, “I wish you would change up the position every now and then” or “I wish you’d stop watching online porn.” Sexuality is taboo, so it gets hidden in even some of the most open relationships. And things like this breed contempt. “He’s not meeting my needs.” “She’s too demanding.” You get my point.