marriage

The best laid plans…are sometimes better left undone.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” ~Robert Burns

I’m a planner.  And we had plans.

The kids, for the first time in a month, were going to spend the night at the grandparents house.  We were going to make appetizers from Trader Joe’s, have a glass of wine, eat chocolate, and watch really crappy TV.  I doubt we would have made it to midnight to see the beginning of 2015, but I would have tried. And it would have been OK because there would have been no little feet padding towards me at 1:30 or 3:45 in the morning needing to go to the bathroom, or an extra hug and kiss, or needing a drink of water.

We had plans.  And like the many other times we made plans, they slowly imploded on themselves until none of the original plan was remotely intact.

After shipping everyone off and sitting down to binge watch crappy TV UNINTERRUPTED I received “The Call”.  The little one, who hadn’t been feeling so great lately, didn’t want to stay.  He just wanted to be home and snuggle with us.  My face and spirits fell and I immediately  began to cry (chalk it up to pregnancy hormones).  I was going to get to watch TV!  I was going to get uninterrupted sleep!  I was going to stay up past 10!

And then I stopped and really thought about the situation.  And guilt replaced my outrage and upset-ness.  My little one, who wouldn’t be my little one in 3 short months, wanted to stay home and snuggle with his mom.  Why in the world was I upset about this?  I admit that we have it rather easy on our end.  The kids spend an obscene amount of time with their grandparents giving us ample time off.  And here I was wanting more.

I had this whole post written in my head about how, while 2014 was very tough, it was also a year of growth.  I was going to write about how 2015 was going to trump last year, I was going to go harder, push more, and ultimately be fierce.  This was going to be MY year.  It was going to be all about ME and what I wanted to accomplish.

But as always, it’s the smallest things that lead us to see the errors in our ways.  I do need to improve, but not in the way I so desperately thought.  Instead of constantly needing to pick up new things, try new things, be new, I need to be better at the things I already am.  I need to be better at the things that are inevitable (not in a bad way).  I need to be better at the things that I already am: mother, wife, friend.

That’s not to say that I will not continue to make time for my running, that I won’t branch out and seek the unknown, but simply that I also need to pay attention to the now, be present in the moment, remember that each day is a gift.

I need to stop trying to go out and be extraordinary and “make” extraneous memories, when my everyday actions are creating memories of their own: reading a book with little O, going for a neighborhood jog with M, feeling Baby 3 kick every moment of the day.

I need to stop thinking “been there, done that” for these moments and realize that each experience, no matter how repetitive or mundane may not be that way for the littles or for others involved.

I need to start appreciating what I have a little bit more.

there-is-no-such-thing-as-a-perfect-parent-quote

Blast from the Past: 2012 New Year’s Post

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Here is my New Years Resolution Post from 2012.  Oh how things change and still remain the same.

Each year I try and come up with a few (dozen) New Year’s resolutions, and every year I fail miserably when trying to follow them.  Maybe it’s because I know that 7 million other people are making the same exact ones (eat healthier, exercise more, yell at the kids less).  I don’t know.  The point is that this year I am only going to make one resolution: no regrets.  I have spent so many years regretting almost every decision I have made and I realize this is a giant waste of my time.  No matter what choice I made I always figured that it was the wrong one, that maybe the grass was greener on the other side of the fence.  Then I worry and complain and whine because yet again I didn’t get my way (when in fact, that’s exactly what I got).

I came up with this resolution a few nights ago when a friend asked me and my husband out for New Years Eve.  I had to decline because of the kids and I began to reminisce about what it was like before I had kids.  When M was first born I was too scared to ever think that way.  M was our little miracle baby after a bunch of mishaps so it felt almost blasphemous to feel tired and simply need a break.  Once O came along though, the weight of working full time and having two tiny kids really did start to take its toll and I began to remember what it felt like to sleep in, eat whenever/whatever I wanted, drive out to the beach on a moments notice, pick up and move to a different state, go out with friends when they invited…

I started to think where I would be if I hadn’t had kids.  Would I be teaching english in Chile?  Would I have joined the Peace Corps?  Would I be getting my Ph.D?  All these little thoughts begin to creep into my sub conscience and I start to feel jilted, like I would be so much happier and better off if I had waited for a few more years and really done these wonderful, un-kid friendly things.

And then O looks at me a cracks up and M comes over to give me a snuggle and I realize had I become that person, running around the world doing all these wonderful things, what I would be thinking is how wonderful I bet my life would be if I had children to share it with.

Here’s to no regrets in 2012.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things”

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“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.”  ~Marilyn Monroe

I really do love this time of year.  I used to think it had to do with idea of Christmas, family, presents, lights, and all the other things that go along with the season.  Yes, these things play a small part in the overall feeling of contentment I get during December, but they are not all encompassing.  I always thought my favorite holiday was Christmas, but it wasn’t until this year that I realized it is not.

My favorite holiday is New Years and for so many reasons.  Honestly, I am big fan of New Years Resolutions.  While I agree that you can begin a resolution at any time and you should never wait to change something you truly believe in, there is something so wonderful about the year ticking over to a new new number.  It’s almost as if New Years Day is a form baptism.  With the change of a number, the mistakes and regrets and uncomfortable feelings cease to exist, making it that much easier to start fresh and anew.  With the rip of a calendar page the whole world can begin again. You can set goals, make new decisions, basically become the person you have been waiting to become.

The other day I looked back on a New Years Eve post that I wrote as 2011 rolled into 2012.  2012 was the year, I decided with a vengeance, that I would have no regrets.  No matter what decision or choice I made, I would go with it, own up to it, and if it didn’t work out, I would roll with the punches.  Needless to say, this did not happen.  I still have a lot of trouble letting go, moving on, and not dwelling on past mistakes and regrets.  But really, in hindsight, this was a terrible resolution to make simply because the failure rate was astronomical.  While I can learn to take my regrets in stride, they will always occur.  It’s how I handle the feelings of regret that is the important part.

I think the reason I am looking forward to this New Years more than any other holiday is because, for the most part, 2013 sucked.  And I don’t mean in an “Oh I dropped my ice cream cone on the ground” kind of way.  I mean in a real, traumatic, life changing kind of way.  The most obvious thing is, of course, my father passing, which lead to a downward spiral of depression, but there was also going through the IEP process with Max, learning nothing was “wrong” with Max, but people made me think there was, a very rough school year last year, money problems, marriage issues, losing a car, and probably a myriad of other small things, that when pieced together were a recipe for disaster.

But this year, it will be different, if for no other reason than it has to be.  I can’t go through another year like last year.  In all honestly, I don’t think I would survive.  I think that because of everything that has happened this year I have grown and changed.  I’m not the same person that I was 365 days ago, and I couldn’t be happier with that.

I don’t have all of my specific resolutions figured out quite yet, but I do know the overarching theme.  Basically, I just need to be myself.  So many of my problems seem to stem from me hiding who I really am or even not allowing myself to shine too brightly in front of others.  I keep thinking that I don’t know who I am, but really I do, I’m just too scared of judgement to always show it.  There are all things we need to work on and change within ourselves, but sometimes, it’s ok to let the weird shine a little bit.

In so many ways I know who I am. I tend to have too many emotions and too often, the way I express them is over the top.  I cry too much, feel too much, love too hard, get jealous when I shouldn’t, and have a terrible temper. I’m loyal, but cautious.  I don’t always believe the best in people, and I’ve been proven right.  These are simply things I am not going to apologize for anymore.  I shouldn’t have to apologize for my feelings because they are real and a part of who I am, and the way I feel is important.  I need to stop worrying about constantly being judged.

Judgement seems to come at all times, even when we are doing something to better ourselves or set out in the right direction.  I think that is part of the reason I never really got anywhere with my running.  Sure, I improved, but I definitely didn’t try as hard as I could.  Basically, it was because I wouldn’t allow myself to take myself seriously and this was a mistake.  I was so worried people were going to judge me: Why does she think she can be a runner?  She’s not a real runner.  Why are you buying another pair of running shoes, you’re not a real runner…you’re like a really fast walker.  These are all thoughts that I thought other people were going to say about me because these are all thoughts that I was saying to myself.

Yes, I’m probably never going to run a marathon.  Yes, I’m pretty slow. Yes, there are a million reasons why I shouldn’t be running.  But I am.  And I like it.  And that’s all that matters.  And I don’t need to apologize for it.

I’m allowed to try hard.  I’m allowed to be good at things. Hell, I’m allowed to be bad at things.  I’m allowed to love you too much and tell you about it.  I’m also allowed to tell you why you are hurting my feelings if you are.  I’m allowed to take a break from people who aren’t letting me be me and are constantly trying to put me down to make themselves feel better.  I’m allowed to be who I am, and if someone doesn’t like it, it’s their loss.  I actually think I’m pretty awesome sometimes.

2014: The year of being me.

How nothing and everything has changed…

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“Driving home, the sky accelerates
And the clouds all form a geometric shape
And it goes fast
You think of the past
Suddenly everything has changed” ~The Flaming Lips

Since I hadn’t been on Facebook in a few weeks, I missed random things that were happening.  As I perused a little this morning, I saw my brother had posted that last Thursday marked 6 months since my father passed away.  I couldn’t believe it.  Had it really been six months already? Had close to 180 days truly passed?  Have I simply been asleep or in a coma to suddenly wake up and find out this information? How can something feel like yesterday and years ago all at once?

I can honestly say that I have been through more in this 6 months than probably the rest of my life put together.  The dizzying highs and lows, the turmoil that was self-created throughout the summer, it caused a sort of retreat into myself that I have not quite been able to come out of yet.  True, I am not the person I was in August, not quite knowing which way was up and which way was down, confused about the sheer aspect of living life on a daily basis at time.  I am far from that, but I still sometimes feel the need to protect myself from people, and even from feelings, making sure I don’t become that summertime person I was.

While I have let go of the summer; of my dad, of memories, unsure decisions, and enlightening life changes, I haven’t truly let go.  Everything about these few months still hang around me like a dark cloud that could either blow on by or begin pouring down on me at any minute. Every time I think my stride has become right again and my path is straight and narrow a turn, or a rock, or even a small pebble comes out of nowhere to cause me to stumble and fall.  It causes me to relive and remember things that I don’t necessarily want to.

While I may have used the excuse of my dad dying before as the reason I was so off kilter this summer, I need to stop. First and foremost, it’s not fair to him.  He wasn’t a great man, frankly, he wasn’t a good man either, at least not to me, but when someone leaves us we can choose how we see things, and I choose to remember the early years over the later ones.  It’s not fair to continue to blame him for my short comings.  True, his death contributed, but only in the way that it caused initial strife and turmoil within myself.  I had the choice at that moment to begin getting better or continue down a path of self-destruction and we know which one I chose. I had no way to handle my feelings, or really simply to understand them, so I created myself anew, became someone that I wasn’t, simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with the effects of the pain; simply so I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling anything at all.

So many things died this summer, most notably, important parts of myself marred by uneasy choices and decisions along the way.  I have used the fall to rebuild what was lost and broken, and find the parts that were stolen and forgotten about. Some times I feel like I am back together better than ever and at others I feel like I am still a giant pile of rubble ready to be swept into the trash, missing pieces that are so integral to my survival

I’d like to be all zen and believe that all the decisions, even the bad ones, contribute to who you are. I’d like to think that even the bad decisions have gotten me to the place I am today and I should be grateful.  But I’m not all zen. I’m not even a little zen.  I’m not an optimist, I’m a realist.  In the words of Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Life could be a little sweet, But life could be a little shitty.”  And really, in a nutshell, that’s how I feel.

But if we’re still breathing, if we’re still upright, if we can still find something to smile about, then we haven’t lost our hope.

What I know now more than ever is that sometimes life sucks.  But then again, sometimes it doesn’t.

Who’s got W-I-L-L-P-O-W-E-R? Not me…

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“Willpower is trying very hard not to do something you want to do very much.” ~ John Ortberg

Things have been going well and not well all at the same time.  Is that even possible?  I’ve been pretty sad lately because a knee injury has sidelined my workout and running efforts.  I probably could have worked out this week, but it was hard to motivate myself knowing I was going to be in pain.  Running was simply out of the question, as it hurt just to walk sometimes.  I got back on the scale and was happy to see I had not gained anything, especially during my crappy eating binge of our snow days.  There were times I should have said no when I whole heartedly said yes and it was reassuring to see that the healthy band wagon didn’t get too far ahead and I am still able to jump back on.

I realize, though, especially during these snow days, that I have a terrible problem with willpower.  The fact seems to be that I don’t have any, or at the very least, I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere around the end of spring.  I’ve tried finding it, but have not had any luck.  I was doing so well last winter.  Eating healthy, working out, letting myself have random treats when I needed them, but for the most part saying no to those things that were going to harm me in the long run (I only ate a small piece of a homemade red velvet birthday cake last year, so that should tell you something).  I had gotten to the point where saying no felt good.  I wasn’t doing it to be pretentious or show that I was better than anyone else or that I could say no when others were saying yes.  I simply knew what that piece of cake/glass (bottle) of wine/cheeseburger was going to cost me in the long run and how I was going to feel if I gave in to the fleeting wanting; to that small dose of happiness I would feel during, but not after.  After, of course, I was going to feel like utter crap.

But lately, the “cravings” are getting the best of me and while I still feel like crap when I give in, I keep going back for more anyway. Part of the reason I deleted my Facebook account was that I was spending too much time on there when I should have been concentrating on other things (work, family, in-real-life friends).  I was wrapped up in this world of needing to know what someone ate for dinner last night, who went out with who, looking at photos, and spending too much time in the past.  And you know what? Every time I did it, spent way too much unconstructive time online, spent too much time on profiles that I have no reason to be on anymore, read conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with me, I felt gross.  Almost as if I had eaten an entire chocolate cake.  I’d get upset because I wasted time, jealous because I wasn’t invited somewhere, hungover on information I did not need.

I spent too weeks off Facebook and really did manage to get more done.  My basement is spotless.  My bed was made everyday. I read three magazines.  I was amazed at my willpower.  I couldn’t believe that I, a self-proclaimed Facebook junkie, had kicked the bad Facebook habit.

But you know what?  I hadn’t.  I had deleted my Facebook account, I had deleted the apps from my phone and iPad.  I had deleted the book mark from my computer.  There really wasn’t an easy way for me to get back on without having to re-log in or re-download something.  Essentially it wasn’t willpower.  Willpower would have been having access to it, but making the conscious decision not to get back on. I made it close to impossible for me to get back on.  Willpower would have been keeping my account, but forcing myself to limit my interactions and time online.  I made it so there was no choice to make.  I took the easy way out, the cowardly way out.

And really, the whole Facebook issue is reminiscent of most of the issues I have with my life.  I lack the willpower to say no or make a better decision.  Even when I know that what I am doing is the wrong choice I simply do it anyway because I can’t say no.  And really, I can, but it’s hard and sometimes I don’t know what I want.

But instead of taking the easy way out, I need to “man” up.  I need to learn to do what is best for me in the long run, not what is going to be a fleeting source of happiness.  I have to stop being so blind sided by what is right in front me and begin looking at the big picture.  I have to realize that pretty much everything is OK in moderation…but I need to make sure I am moderating (food, time online, time with family, etc.)

I’ve seen what I can accomplish when the challenge was easy.  Now let’s see what I can do when we up the ante.

Throw Back Sunday (an oldie, but goodie about marriage).

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I wrote this post over a year ago on my old blog.  A YEAR AGO.  I identified these problems a year ago and still have not done enough to solve them. 

*Hangs head in shame*

I have been home for the past five days because of Hurricane Sandy.  It’s been nice being able to spend so much time at home and with the kids (really, I’m not being sarcastic).  Of course, every night when they have gone to bed I have spent many hours reading, knitting, and playing on the internet.  I actually started about 5 different blog posts as well, but something made me want to spend more time on this one today.  On one of my MANY Pinterest visits I came across an article called “16 Ways I Blew My Marriage” It was written by a man so I figured I could get a lot of information from it, showing new ways that I am right in our arguments, but my husband was wrong.

As I began reading (and continued through the entire list of 16), I realized this article actually detailed all the ways that I was creating strife and conflict in our marriage.  It really did hit me hard and I have spent a lot of time thinking about this article the past few days. Below are a list of the 10 things from Dan’s article that I identified with the most with an explanation of how I am currently ruining things.  You can find his complete post in the link above.

1. Don’t Stop Holding Hands

I am terrible at this.  We held hands so much in the beginning, but now, not so much, and it is entirely my fault.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it’s the fact that I have two littles vying for my hands now as well?  I don’t know.  Point is, I need to stop thinking that my kids are the only ones that need a little affection.

2. Don’t Stop Trying to Be Attractive

Guilty as charged again.  As a kindergarten teachers most of clothes are practical and stained.  On the week-ends I tend to wind up in khakis and jeans.  I do have make-up and jewelry and nice clothes, which, for some reason I only wear when going  out with friends.  Why?  Again, I don’t know, but maybe if I tried a little harder I would gain the confidence that I seem to be missing as well.

3. Don’t Always Point Out Weaknesses

For some reason I was under the assumption that all my nitpicking was good.  In my head I was challenging him to be a better person.  Now, I realize, I was just tearing down.  I truly believe that spouses are supposed to challenge each other and you should want to be a better person for your spouse, but at what expense?  Not at the expense of love, happiness, and self esteem.

4 & 5. Don’t Yell at Your Spouse or Call Names

This is the number one on my list.  No explanation needed.  I need to stop.  Period. Especially in front of the kids.  Enough said.

6. Don’t be Stingy With Your Money

I do this all the time.  How many times do I spend $7 on a cup of coffee from Starbucks (yup, I said $7) only to yell at him for buying a soda at 7-11.  I know why do it.  I am a control freak.  I need to be in control of EVERYTHING.  Only I don’t.  And I need to sit back, and let go sometimes.

7. Don’t Argue in Front of the Kids

I’m stealing Dan’s words here because I can’t write it better. “There was never any argument that was so important or pressing that we couldn’t wait to have it until the kids weren’t there. I don’t think it takes a rocket scientist or super-shrink to know why fighting in front of the kids is a dangerous and selfish way of doing things.

8. Don’t Encourage Each Other to Skip Working Out

We should want each other to be the best versions of ourselves, and I would hope that he would do the same.  Maybe, though, this is one of those things we can start doing together.

9. Don’t Stop Kissing

I know this isn’t just me and happens to most of my married friends.  When you work full time and have two kids everything becomes a time crunch and I always feel like every minute of every day should be filled doing something useful and kissing simply takes up those minutes. But I have to remember that spending time connecting with my husband is also useful.

10. Don’t Stop Having Fun Together

The kids have great grandparents in the fact that they spend a lot of time over there and are usually gone one night a week.  And what do we do? Watch TV, play on the computer, sleep.  I have to remember that there are a ton of things we can do that don’t require money and would probably help build up our relationship.

So, now the challenge comes to start to make things better.  Identification of the problem is half the battle, right?

My Latent Love (an old post about Oliver)

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Here is a post a wrote about Ollie in January 2012 on an older blog.  I loved it so much I felt like I needed to share it again…

My little O is about to turn one in just twelve short days.  I have really been reflecting on this lately because, as I look back, I can’t believe how far we’ve come and what we’ve overcome together.

M has always been considered and probably always will be considered my little miracle baby.  Born after 2 losses, arriving almost six weeks early, it was hard not to love him at first sight.  This was something I had worked so hard to obtain, not just for for nine months, but for the three years before he was born as well.  He looked exactly like me and we were inseparable since our first day together.   And, in all honesty, we still are.  We are two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth.  Our personalities are so in sync that at times it is hard to figure out where I end and he begins.  There is, of course, a bond between father and son, but not quite like the one we share.

In opposition, being pregnant with O felt like a chore.  I know it had  a lot to do with having a toddler already, having to keep it a secret because we lived with my in laws at the time, and spending all my time worrying about where we were going to live, how we were going to pay for things, etc, but still I wanted it to be over.  I was ready for him to be born and ready to get the “parenting two under two” show going.

When he was born, he was absolutely perfect in every way a baby could be, but I was still worried.  Not about him because he was everyone’s favorite, but about M and how we would take it.  I know I should have been more worried about O, trying to spend more time with him, but I felt like, for some reason, he didn’t need me as much.  He had daddy, and the grandparents, everyone fawning all over him and all I could think about was how to make sure M was included in all of the newness and excitement.

I know moms that will sugar coat things and say that bringing a new baby into the fold was easy and natural, but I’m not going to lie.  From the minute we walked in that door and we were all left alone it was hard.  Taking care of two in a tiny house was insane.  Having no income at all while on maternity leave was a nightmare.  O was sick a lot and in turn we were all sick.  My sleep suffered.  My marriage suffered, everything seemed to be changing and I really wasn’t ready for it to.

My siblings and I are completely different, so I don’t know why I thought that O would be easy just like his brother.  There were/are so many differences, even from the beginning.  O wanted a lot of attention.  He loved to be held and be around people, especially his brother.  He was noisy and cried a lot and ate a lot, and was a terrible sleeper (still is!)

But with all of that came his smile, his huge blue eyes, and his ability to find joy and laugh at everything.  My day doesn’t feel complete if O isn’t up to say goodbye to me in the morning.  No matter what kind of day I am having, seeing him run to greet me when I come home with that huge smile on his face is all I need to change my day around completely.  He is definitely daddy’s boy, through and through, but I know we have something too, a connection that only a mom and son could have.  It may have taken a little while, but now I realize that I would not be able to function if he were not here with us.  He is the puzzle piece in the middle…the one without which you have no idea what the picture actually is, the one that keeps everyone together.

At first I felt guilty about these feelings I had, like I wasn’t a good enough mother for some reason because my heart did not burst full of love the minute I conceived, but I know that I shouldn’t.  My love for O grew a little bit each day and I know that even now it is not done growing.  Today I can say I love him to the moon and back, but that’s just because we don’t know what they will discover past the moon in the future.

Quality vs. Quantity

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“The intention to live as long as possible isn’t one of the mind’s best intentions, because quantity isn’t the same as quality.” ~Deepak Chopra

If you were to ask me if there was anything I could change about my parenting I would most definitely rank the need to spend more time with my kids as my number one. Between balancing work, school, and a small social life with family, kid, and husband time I tend to fail, quite a lot. For some reason, wherever I am I tend to want to be some place else. When I’m at work I want to be home with the kids, when I’m home with the kids I want to be out with my friends. When out with my friends I want to spend quality time with the husband (to be fair and honest, I never want to be at work).

I always feel like I never have enough time to devote to any one thing or person. I actually have begun to think of sleep, showering, and other “basic needs” as a “time-suck”. There is so much more I could be doing between the hours of 11pm and 6 am, or in the 20 10 minutes I have to shower. With these restraints, someone is always getting shafted including myself.

I’ve come to realize what I need to start focusing on is quality time vs. quantity time. Some nights I have only an hour or two with the boys before they go to bed. What am I doing with that time? Same old, same old. Wining about how I have to work instead of saying home with the boys (Don’t worry, I see the irony). Yelling, cleaning, and maybe playing or a project. When the boys finally go to bed and I have time with the husband, what am I doing? Playing on the computer and watching something on Netflix. Even if out with my friends, what are we all doing together? The majority of the time is spent complaining about work (and I’m probably the biggest complainer of all!).

I suffer from an egoistic outlook on life, and I’m praying that its not just me. I always assume ill have more time, more patience, more desire down the road at some point. The problem is that I am assuming that there is always going to be a “down the road”. It’s time to face facts. There isn’t.

And it’s not just in the “time” arena that quality and quantity are at odds with each other. This disequilibrium seems to permeate most aspects of my life. I’m paid for 7.05 hours a day at work. Why not try and make those hours count instead of just “getting through the day” as I so often do. Even this blog suffers from it: making weekly goals, trying to change so many aspects of my life in such a short amount of time, always wanting to add more and more and more without really giving anything on the list any semblance of attention in the first place.

I’m not saying I should stop having goals: I love a challenge and thrive on competition, even with myself. I’m simply saying that maybe I need to stop focusing on the “more more more” and start focusing on the “depth” of each of my desires, problems, challenges, fears, relationships, etc.

Maybe with that, this big ball of chaos that is my psyche will finally start to unwind. Maybe not. But trying is always an option. In the simplest terms,  in the most convenient definition, I just need to take a breath and “be”.

Week Two: Time to calm the F*** down.

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“I have so much chaos in my life, it’s become normal.  You become used to it.  you have to just relax, calm down, take a deep breath and try to see how you can make things work rather than complain about how they’re wrong.” ~Tom Welling

Last week, when restarting this blog, I thought that each Sunday I should have a theme to better document the changes within myself (and my family, and ultimately, my world) that I am hoping to make throughout the week.  During the week I can write about whatever strikes, but Sundays are a time for reflection, both inward and outward.  Hopefully I can use this day and time to stay focused on things I really want to accomplish.

Last week I decided to focus on “cutting the crap” out of my life.  I planned to:

  1. Slowly, but surely, cut out processed foods (crap) for me and the family
  2. Stop having such a crappy attitude at home around my husband and kids and at school around my co-workers and “kids”
  3. Stop making crappy excuses for things I don’t want to do: going to the gym, cleaning the house, etc.
  4. Stop spending money on extraneous crap that I just don’t need: Starbucks coffee, more clothes that won’t fit in a month, eating out.

While I realize that these are ultimately life changes I am striving for, I feel like I did good for the first week.  I definitely ate less processed foods and more fruits and veggies.  I tried my hardest to stop spending money (on extraneous items) and stop making excuses when it’s time to make the hard decisions.  The most challenging one for me, the one that will ultimately take the most time to work into my daily life and achieve, was changing my attitude.

I promise I’m trying, but my goodness it’s hard.  I mean, seriously, look at the blog posts I wrote this week.  They really don’t have a “positive” ring to them.  I’m still trying to gossip less, build-up my relationship with my kids, and re-build my relationship with my husband.  The secret is to not get discouraged.  Rome wasn’t built in a day.  The problem is I get to antsy and excited for everything to change RIGHT NOW that I tend to be a little…intense (to put it nicely).

This week is, while I’m continuing to work on last weeks items, I am also going to work on this: Trying to Calm the F*** Down!  I get so worked up about all the little things in my life that I am sure I am missing out on some truly wonderful moments.  I need to learn better to roll with the punches, dial down the control freak within myself, and just breath.  I need to yell less, laugh more, and just try to enjoy living.  Every day we are a little closer to the end of the world, not matter how much I freak out, or how much I worry.  It’s inevitable.  I might as well enjoy the ride while I can.

I realize this is all easier said then done, but knowing and planning is half the battle, right?

Sunday Musings: The Weekly Write-Up

  • Week 1: Cut the Crap
  • Week 2: Calm the F***Down

What You Don’t Want to Hear (And What I’m Ashamed to Admit)

/ Cassie / Leave a comment

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.” ~Honore de Balzac

Sometimes I really hate my job.  I’m not talking about my “9-5” job that,not only do I get paid for, I also get to leave.  I’m talking about the job I have to do every minute for the rest of my life.  Parenting.

As I pointed out, I’m not proud to admit this fact, nor is it something you you actually want to hear (especially those of you who do not have children).  Parenting is supposed to be this magical thing that you cherish each and every moment.  Chubby cheeked little cherubs love you, marvel after you, and touch your soul in ways that are not even imaginable.  And it is like that…sometimes.  Other times it plain sucks.  Actually, I can go one better, it F****ING SUCKS.

In order to understand this better, I should tell you about my day.  I had a pretty good day at work, headed to the gym and had a moderately good workout.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing and I was excited to go home and spend the rest of the day with all my boys outside playing.  And then I walked in the door.  Immediately, the four year old (M) started screaming at me about how I didn’t bring home a treat in my lunch bag.  When I mentioned going outside, the 2 year old (O) screamed because he didn’t want to wear socks with his shoes.  When they finally made it outside,  O ate something unidentifiable off the ground.  During dinner,  M didn’t want what I made (though it was exactly what he asked for!!!!).  When I got up to clear the dishes,  O projectile vomited everywhere in the dining room.  Once the husband got him upstairs, it was time for M to take his antibiotic…which he hates.  I tried to make it easier, but after taking one sip, he proceeded to projectile vomit all over the dining room as well…after I had just cleaned up the first round.

At that point I lost it.  Like, really lost it.  I broke down.  I cried.  I yelled.  It was not pretty.

M yelled at me that he loved me but I was not doing the right thing.  I yelled back at him that he wasn’t either.

I finally got him upstairs and into the tub and then proceeded to the basement with all the gross clothes and table items.  I managed to get them started in the wash before I completely fell apart.  I just didn’t want to be here anymore.  I didn’t want this job anymore.  It was talking all my strength not to jump in the car and run away, far away. I WANT OUT was all I could think.

And, of course, the icing on the cake of all of this is that my husband remained calm and collected throughout the entire ordeal, even while bathing the two screaming, vomit covered boys.  This made me me feel even crappier about losing it and pretty much made me hate him in that moment.  I sat downstairs for a few minutes, got myself together and then went back upstairs, ready to bake the cupcakes I promised for snack at M’s school tomorrow.

This whole ordeal, from the minute I walked in the door to the minute I walked upstairs to begin baking, lasted literally 45 minutes.

I realize that these are not typical days for us.  Usually, things are pretty calm or, at the very  least, a controlled chaos.  And for the most part I love being a mom.  I love my kiddos more than life itself.  When I think about them not being around I get panicky and know my life wouldn’t not be as complete as it is now without them in it.

But still, sometimes I get so jealous of my friends that seem so free.  I gaze at them wistfully when they don’t have kids to feed or husbands to get home to. And it’s not like I want to leave them (I know I would miss them in the first second out the door).  It’s just that I want them all to not exist in the first place.  Just for a day, or even an hour.

Sometimes being a mom (and a wife) sucks and it’s OK to think that way.

And while I know it’s not something others want to admit in the open, I know I’m not alone.