One of those days

We've all been there, when you throw up your hands and say, "It's just one of those days..."



When you slave over a pinterest worthy meal, and your picky-eater completely refuses it and instead eats instant mac n cheese.

When the only vegetable you can get in them is ketchup.

When they come home with an "Excellent Job!" written on their work and you beam with pride.

When they read their first book.

When they start calling you Mama.

When you go out to eat and the big kid throws a fit because they put pepperonis on her pizza and the little kid screams like a banshee and throws food across the room and you barely get to eat any of your food and everyone is looking at you and the waitress is rude and you just leave some cash and load up and leave.

When you go out to eat and they actually sit still and eat their food and folks comment on how well-behaved your kids are and you say Thank You and never let on about all your previous restaurant disasters.

When you finally get the kids to bed and can have a nice, warm (uninterrupted) shower.

... and that moment of hesitation you have when it's time to turn the water off and go back and face the piles of laundry, dishes, etc.

When they come home from school with a drawing of your family decorating the Christmas tree because it was a happy memory.

When the nonstop 18 month old crawls up in your lap and lays their head on your shoulder and hugs you (for no reason at all).

When the big kid says your her favorite mommy.

When you have to put Frozen on for the ump-teenth time just so you can have a moment to yourself.

When the little one scratches the Frozen dvd and it's no longer watchable.

When the big kid sees a gay couple kissing on television and says, "What in the world?!"

When they come home from school and hold up their middle finger and ask, "Why is this a bad finger?"

When you turn on Pandora and have a family dance party in the living room.

When you spend all morning wrestling the kids into their finest Christmas attire and go see Santa in hopes you'll get a decent photo for the family Christmas card... and realize you forgot the memory card for the camera

... and the little one is traumatized by you dumping them in Santa's lap.

... and the big one has a blast listening to Mrs. Claus (who is actually your old kindergarten teacher) tell her stories and you get to act like a kid again and have fun right along with them.

When your husband is out of town and your on day 3 of single parenting... and you run out of wine.

When they seem to be doing everything in their power to annoy their sibling... and enjoy it.

When they curl up together on the couch and hug and giggle... and enjoy it.



What can you do?  It's just one of those days...

Writer's Block cont'd

So to continue on my claim of having writer's block...

After I had Dylan I went through the usual emotional roller coaster that having a new baby, no sleep, and imbalanced hormones inevitably induce.  I had the same with Emma, with her it was more about being overwhelmed and coming to terms with my life never being the same again.  But with Dylan, I was filled with so much guilt.  Guilt I had changed my daughter's life forever, she was no longer the sole center of our universe.  Guilt that she was so bored that summer and I had very little time, energy, and much less patience to find things for her to do.  Guilt for that same lack of time, energy, and patience to give this new baby as much attention as we had with Emma.  But mostly I had guilt for feeling guilty.  How dare I?  I had no right to feel such emotions.

There are mothers out there who were enduring far worse situations than me.  The mama with an autistic child.  The mama whose baby is sick with a horrible disease.  The mama who looses her baby at just 17 months.  The mama who looses her baby before it's even born.  The mama (and military wife) who found out she was pregnant with baby #3 just mere weeks before her husband deployed.  The mama who adopts foster children.  The heartbreaking stories of the lives these children came from and the physical and emotional scars they carried that had to be dealt with.

These are mamas who had every right to spew blog post after blog post of the very real struggles they were enduring.  And here I was writing about my toddler having a temper tantrum after not getting what she wanted at the Dollar Store.  Boohoo, poor me and my horrible struggles.

So I was ready to ditch it all.  Ditch the blog, delete the whole thing. Remove my ramblings from all the white noise out in internet land...



I often think of that scene in Forest Gump.  When Lt. Dan was fearless in that horrible storm at sea, challenging God to hit'em with all he's got.  And then the storm passes and Lt. Dan seems resolved and reconciled.  Tom Hanks delivers my favorite line, "I guess he made his peace with God."

At the end of the day, are we not all just trying to make our peace?  Life throws us curve balls and hard balls and, hell, beams us right the jaw.  We struggle and we fight and we give it all we got.  And eventually, when all is said and done, we make our peace with it.

So what was my grand epiphany that returned me to my glorious blogging?  I had this thought:  struggles cannot be quantified.  Struggles are hard, and are real, and are unique.  While there are such brave souls out there who've been dealt some pretty tough hands, each of us have our own struggles.  And we should not be ashamed of them or feel they are not worthy.  They are there, nevertheless.  They will beat and break us until we surrender.  Until we pick up our cross and brave on.  Until we make our peace with God.

I went back and reread the infamous Dollar Store tantrum post.  I had remembered it as only being a pity party over some trivial matter.  But then I reread the ending.  Where I brought it back around and spoke of lessons learned.  And I remembered while I enjoyed blogging.  Writing of things I realized and sharing them so maybe someone could relate, heck, maybe even find some peace over a current struggle of their own.

And so I am back.  I offer up no grand scheme here.  It is what it is.  Take it or leave it.  I doubt this blog with travel very far, but I put it out there nonetheless.  It's therapeutic for me and maybe it's helpful for you.

And so, dear friends, that is the Simple Reflection that has taken me 18 months to construct.  It is my sincere hope that the next one will not take so long.

Writer's Block

So it's been 19 months since the last time I've written.  I know that, because my second child is now 18 months old and, ironically, the last time I posted it was a month before he was born.  Coincidence?

 

Perhaps it's the difference between girls and boys (because this little wild man is non stop), perhaps it's just having two instead of one, all I know is, it's all I can do to keep up.

You might notice the new title, the new layout.  It was time for a fresh start.  While I can play the "I'm so busy" card all I want, the truth is, I've had a bit of writer's block.  (Blogger's block?)

Hopefully I just inundated you with enough adorable kid pictures that you have forgiven me for my time away.  But it has been a bit of a struggle to figure out what I wanted to blog about.  I don't know what having a second child did to me, all I know is, my old blog just didn't feel right anymore.  So I decided to just pare it down.  Simple Reflections, nothing more.  I can't promise I'll be posting regularly.  I leave you with no expectations and no promises.  (Not really selling this thing, am I?)  But here it is, none the less.  Here's one last kid picture to, hopefully, win over a few more brownie points.

Well, the big kid is off the school bus and the little kid is waking from nap, so that means my time is up.  Until next time, my friends.