3 Nights, 3 Cities, 3 Hotels...With a Toddler

We are in the midst of wedding season! We love weddings because we like free food, free alcohol, dancing, seeing friends and/or family and meeting new people. So we were excited to head down to Florida for the wedding of Joe's friend and former colleague. But I gotta admit, weddings (and traveling) with a little one are no fun. Since Florida is part of Joe's territory we created a work/travel trip. Here are the highlights:

Day 1. We left on Thursday and spent the night in Dothan, AL. She's been to a hotel before but I guess she was too young to make anything of it. This time, however, she was enthralled. I saw a side of her I've never seen. Pure excitement for what Joe and I consider germ-covered. We've seen too many blacklights on Dateline. She could not get enough of this room and it's wonderous surfaces. She found high things to stand on, phones to talk to, remotes to push (the dirtiest), bathrooms to inspect, couches to rub her face in and new floors to roll on. Oh the joy!

She couldn't believe she was standing on this.

She was obsessed with the phone.

We eventually unplugged it so she wouldn't call anyone or order room service.

Due to her high level of insanity she wouldn't nap so of course when we got to the restaurant for dinner she couldn't keep her eyes open. Slept in my lap through the entire meal so I boxed up her corn, which is when she decided to wake up, so she ate her corn from the takeout box in the restaurant.

Day 2. Friday we headed to Panama City, FL. Eva had never been to the ocean or felt sand under her feet. We thought she would love it. We were wrong.

She thought the sand was going to eat her alive.

Holding on for dear life.

She eventually calmed down as long as she was sitting on a towel with another towel on top of her legs.

Sucking in that tummy.

Day 3. Saturday we headed to Lake City, FL for the wedding in Alachua. The wedding venue was really cool. It was on a ranch in a massive 2-story barn that was built for throwing huge parties. By the large 4-sided restaurant-size bar was a candy station which Eva was very interested in so that's where we sat for a bit. There were built-in benches around the edges. She also had a plate of cheese cubes. When she held up some candy at me I told her she needed to finish her cheese first. There were 5 cubes on her plate. When I looked back at the plate 2 seconds later it was empty. I first looked at the ground thinking she dropped them. I then looked at her to see she had stuffed all of them inside her mouth. Her hand was in jazz position covering her mouth, forcing it to stay in as saliva cheese sauce started oozing down through her fingers. She then started gagging at which point she threw up all the cheese right in front of the candy station. Joe reached out to her right at the point of regurgitation so much of it landed on his sleeve. Some went down her dress. Most went on the barn floor which luckily had cracks so Joe washed it down into the cracks with a water bottle. She smelled like vomit the rest of the night. Many times she ran away from me to sit down in the main congested walkway. One time she interrupted a group's game of cornhole by trying to stand right in the middle of it. At dinner she ate minimal bread with her butter. I have zero pictures from the wedding.

I know one day she'll be old enough to go off and play with the other kids so Joe and I can enjoy a glass of wine and dance to a couple songs. We really do love weddings and traveling, but it's a different ball game these days.

My Tribute to Matt Kever

Published with my cousin's wife's permission

Why is it when someone close to us dies the day moves so slowly?  Maybe it’s because there’s only one thought consuming our mind all day, unwavering and constant, keeping both mind and body from moving forward.  Maybe it’s because we’re numb on the inside, stuck in the moment one of our heart strings breaks.  Maybe it’s because we’re physically moving slower, taking our time, looking at the big picture, telling ourselves to enjoy this day we’ve been blessed with even though we can’t because we’re mourning the loss of someone who wasn’t given the same privilege.  Maybe it’s because we’re questioning a higher power instead of questioning all the trivial things that usually clutter our brains on a daily basis until we realize the day has flown by. 

Friday, August 15, 2014 was one of those days for me.  I woke up to my phone ringing at 6am by my mom, which is never a good sign.  My gut was right.  She called to inform me of my cousin Matt’s death.  He was not sick.  He was not reckless.  He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It was tragic and unexpected.  His work days started very early and he had a long commute on top of that.  A little before 3:30am an oncoming conversion van pulling a trailer started veering off road.  The man over-corrected himself, which took him across the center line.  Matt, in his little Nissan car, swerved to miss him but the other vehicle still hit his driver side.  They both spun off road into a bean field.  My 30-year-old cousin was pronounced dead at the scene.  The other guy lived.  Matt was wearing his seat belt.  He was not on his phone.  He was in his lane.  He was driving his car instead of his truck to save on gas mileage.  He was used to this early morning drive.  He was doing everything right.  All I could think was if Matt had only been 2 seconds ahead of himself that day, or 2 seconds behind.  If only he had taken his pickup truck which could have handled more impact.  “If only” is what we all cling on to in these tragedies.  But it never changes anything.  Seeing images of his mangled car and the driver side covered with a sheet on my hometown news will forever be engraved into my memory.  I see and hear this same news story every day but it’s never someone you know…until it is.  I later found out he left 10 minutes earlier than normal.

Growing up, my dad’s side all lived in the same town so it was easy to get together and luckily our family was close.  Every Sunday after everyone finished up at their respective churches everyone would make their way to my grandparents house for brunch.  My grandparents prepared everything and we would occupy both kitchen and dining room tables.  As a kid this was already about 18 people.  Sometimes the adults would sit in one room and the 8 cousins in the other.  Sometimes 2 families would sit in each room.  My grandma even used to have name cards so we just knew where to go without playing musical chairs.  It was always kind of fun to see which family members I’d be sitting by each week.  Tables were covered in 2 liters of various soda flavors and both cheese and pickle trays were a weekly norm.  As me and my cousins got older and started getting married and having kids the tradition continued so my grandparents eventually bought a bigger house so they could fit the now almost 40 people.  The tradition faded out a few years ago as my grandparents got too old to keep that up on a weekly basis, but for 20+ years we gathered and enjoyed food, jokes and conversation every Sunday.   Nobody’s birthday or anniversary was ever forgotten.  They were always celebrated with gifts, cards and cake.  And every holiday was exaggerated with too much food and too many presents.  I loved growing up being so close to my cousins, especially since I was an only child. 

My baby cousin, Matt, (although less than 3 years younger than me) always seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, which isn’t usually the case when it comes to the youngest.  He was musically involved in high school and was the drummer for many bands since, including church and cover bands.  Shortly after high school he started dating this girl who went by Lish.  Due to our family’s weekly tradition we usually met everyone’s girlfriends and boyfriends pretty quickly.  About 2 months later Matt and Lish announced their engagement.  Matt was only 19.  I can’t speak for anyone else, but I personally thought they were moving a bit fast.  Another month later we found out Lish was pregnant and I thought ‘okay now I get what’s going on.’  They had the baby first and then got married which meant really cute daddy/daughter pictures with Matt and his newborn.  To be blunt I didn’t think it would last.  Too many times you see this situation and it doesn’t work out.  But they quickly proved me wrong and over the years they proved me way wrong.  They had two more daughters and had just celebrated their 10-year anniversary shortly before his death.  Over the course of their marriage I actually admired how close and affectionate and uncommon their marriage was.  It was something to be envious of.  With Matt working crazy hours, Lish in nursing school, and 3 daughters ages 4-10 you’d think they’d be stressed out and grumpy.  But I never saw that.  They were truly soul mates, in love with their life, and I am positive their marriage would have lasted a lifetime if only he had been given the chance for a longer one.

Matt was no stranger to working hard.  At times he worked multiple jobs to support his family.  A few years ago Lish left work to go back to school for nursing.  Matt carried his family’s needs on his shoulders, smiling, although I’m sure exhausted.  Whenever I got to see him he was smiling.  He truly seemed happy.  He worked a laborious job, commuted 4 hours a day, stayed involved with his girls, loved on his wife, played in a band that had gigs, played in church, hunted, fished, worked on cars and spent time with extended family and friends.  I don’t know how he did all that, but he did it smiling.

I’ve experienced deaths in my family but it’s always been great-grandparents or grandparents, which is expected even if it’s unexpected.  And when I was informed of them I didn’t get emotional right away.  It’s like my body needed time to soak in the truth that they were really gone.  When I heard about Matt I immediately broke down even though I was in complete disbelief.  I was instantly heartbroken, not just for the loss of him in this world, but for the 4 most important girls in his life who would never be hugged by their hero again.  He was a husband/father who created an envious marriage and family life.  He was a son/grandson/nephew/cousin who made us laugh and proud.  He was a mechanic who offered to fix car issues for super cheap, not because he was in it for the money, but because he liked doing it and helping others.  He was a drummer who performed on stages to local fans who called him “hatboy.”  He was an employee who got up at 2:30am, drove 2 hours to work, started his work day at 5am and drove 2 hours back all because he felt the money was worth it to better his family.  He was a gift God put on Earth who had apparently fulfilled his will and was called home.

As Matt was laid to rest it was apparent the impact he had on people.  His second showing had a line through the entire funeral home into another unused viewing room for the duration of the showing, extending his hours.  As us family exited the church first after his funeral we descended down the outdoor stairs lined with people who could not fit into the church.  The procession to the cemetery was 92 cars long.  He touched a lot of people and led a life we should all strive to resemble.  Although there are no more future memories to be made with Matt I will cherish the ones my grandparents made possible during those thousands of family meals. And I will especially remember the last time I saw him which was a year ago when he met Eva and he held her in his arms.  She was as calm as could be because he was a pro at holding little girls.  You could say Matt aced the test of life.  I can only hope to do the same one day.

The 8 cousins (Matt's the baby)

me and Matt

this happened often

one of many meals

cousins getting older (Matt in front)

The Christmas Chaos

Matt and his daughters

Matt and family

Lish and Matt

I hate bringing up the topic of social media in this post but let’s face it, it’s practically a way of life now.  Looking through Matt’s Facebook page brought me both comfort and sorrow.  It also showcased how awesome he was and brought many positive adjectives to mind.

Awesome Dad:

Helpful and Humorous:

Proud and Supportive Husband:

This makes me both happy and sad:

Ironic – his last post was about someone dying before he should have:

I love his blunt statement under his Religious Views in his profile.  Gives me comfort:

Invisalign Shminvisalign

I'm over it.  My aligners were supposed to be done in April, but now it's August and I just found out I have at least another 6 months.  This will probably be more than you ever wanted to know about Invisalign.  But if you've ever considered getting it, here is a true story of what to expect.  Let's start from the beginning.  The way, way beginning.

In 3rd grade my parents started the orthodontic treatment on my very unfortunate un-straight teeth.
Not sure how normal braces treatment is handled nowadays but back in the early 90s orthodontists liked to do a pre-braces procedure by putting a metal torture chamber on the roof of your mouth connecting 2 of your upper opposite molars.  It even had a secret key!  And every day you got to put the little key into the little keyhole and turn it 3 times to make magic happen.  I've never come across anyone who had issues with this other than pain, but my new mouth contraption didn't allow me to swallow.  I'm not just talking food here.  I mean I couldn't even keep my saliva down.  I. Could. Not. Physically. Swallow.  For two whole days (in school mind you) I had to quietly excuse myself every few minutes so I could go to the bathroom and spit out my spit.  I was holding saliva in my cheeks like chipmunks store their nuts and it was very painful for my face.  My mom wrote a note to my teacher because I couldn't ask to go to the bathroom every 5 minutes nor could I answer any questions without a thick stream of drool pouring down my chin.  At recess I walked with my girlfriends but could not join in the conversations except for maybe the first minute after each spit session into the grass beside us.  And let me specify here, I'm using the verb "spit" very loosely here.  I can't spit like a guy, so for me "to spit" means I open my mouth to let the waterfall proceed and then use the back of my hand to wipe up that last strand of saliva that hangs from my lips.  For two days I did not eat one piece of food or drink one sip of water.  I remember one of the days my mom came to school at lunch time with McDonald's.  While my class went to the lunch room me and my mom stayed in the classroom and I tried my hardest to get even one quarter of a french fry down my throat.  If I recall correctly it got stuck on top of the torture box.  I don't know what was so different about that thing that prevented me from swallowing when everyone else I knew who had one was fine, but after day 2 of involuntary anorexia my mom got the orthodontist to come into his office late at night and put a stop to the madness.  When I got home my dad made me a chocolate milkshake and I'm sure I scarfed down a ton of other unhealthy food because we all felt that I deserved to eat like a fat kid that night.  The second that thing came off was one of my biggest relief moments of my life.  I dare you to go 48 hours without swallowing.

We proceeded on with the braces resulting in a 5 1/2 year run of metal rainbow mouth, choosing bands that reflected the upcoming holiday or picking the color the cool girl recently changed hers to.  If you had braces you had to make a fashion statement out of them.  I was fortunate that I never needed a head gear, however I did get to wear those rubber bands that connected from little metal hangers from the top front to the back bottom.  And anyone who ever had those knew how dangerous a yawn could be.  Every time a yawn ensued those rubber bands sling-shotted out like a bullet!  I don't think I ever saw where any of them landed but I don't recall anyone shouting "ow" and turning around with a mean look.  Luckily I mostly yawned in class while looking at the backs of heads, not while I was face to face where I could have poked an eye out.  Now that I'm recalling this I realize how little I covered my mouth while yawning.  I do know that these rubber bands still exist and are used today so if you ever see someone with them, take cover.

The one good thing about getting braces so young is that even if you have them for 5 1/2 years, they come off shortly after high school starts.  I got mine removed 1st semester of freshman year and I was so happy to be free of mouth jewelry that I boycotted my retainers.  Of course years later in my adult life I would regret this.

Fast forward to age 31 and my bottom teeth had been crossed for years due to over-crowding.  That's what happens when you have big horse teeth and a small mouth like me.  Seeing a Groupon for $2000 off from "the top Invisalign provider in Alabama and in the top 1% of all orthodontists worldwide" (according to his website) I jumped on it knowing we could pay for it with the money we allotted in our health savings account.

I went in for a consultation to see if I was a candidate for Invisalign and was very happy to learn I was.  If I hadn't been I would have opted for a lifetime of over-crowded mouth opposed to doing braces again.  We set up my payment plan and made an appointment for my first Invisalign step.  When I came back I knew they needed to get a mold of my mouth.  Since my last experience with orthodontists was 16 years prior I thought that meant getting an impression taken where they put that HUGE thing in your mouth filled with molding clay where you sit and gag for what feels like eternity.  But I was at first pleasantly surprised to find out that's a thing of the past.  Now they just scan your mouth with a fancy digital wand.  As they scan you can see a digital version of your teeth on a screen.  Knowing I didn't have to gag on a mouthful of clay and plastic I was excited until I realized how long the scan took.  I had to hold my mouth wide open for 30 minutes.  In the end I would have opted for 2 minutes of breathing through my nose.

Now came the exciting part.  Wait 2-3 weeks for the aligners to come in so I could start my short 1-year process to straight teeth again!  Two weeks later I got the call to come in for my fitting and to get my aligners.  As I sat in my chair, the only adult among a pool of youth, I anxiously awaited my aligners knowing most of these kids were dealing with braces.  One thing they did not tell me was that this process includes putting glue dots on your teeth.  The aligners have these little bubbles in random places and wherever those bubbles are is where a hard piece of pointy sharp glue will be on your teeth for the duration of the program.  This allows your aligners to click onto your teeth in a clip-on kind of way.  Once those were placed on my teeth they clicked on my first set to make sure they fit right.  Then just like they made me do when I got my first set of contacts at the eye doctor, they made me take them out and put them back in twice to ensure I could do it before leaving their office.  It was difficult, but I did it.  My package said 1 of 54 and I got to change mine every week so that meant 54 weeks and I'd be done!  They gave me 12 weeks worth to take home (cause they don't want you moving along faster than you're supposed to) and released me with my rules:
1. Wear 20-22 hours a day
2. Don't eat with them in
3. Can only drink water with them in
4. Brush teeth or at least rinse out with water before putting aligners back in
5. Wash aligners with antibacterial soap only
6. Don't leave in the heat.  They will melt.
7. Don't lose them.

The worst thing the first week I had them was the itchiness.  I don't know if it was the glue they used or the plastic against the edge of my gums but I wanted to scratch my mouth out.  My gums itched so bad I just wanted to claw at my open mouth like a wild animal.  Also there is a slight lisp that ensues but mine wasn't too bad and eventually went away.  The hardest part was keeping them in 20-22 hours a day and only drinking water when they were in.  I struggled with that.

Every 3 months I went back to get the next 12 aligners.  At a certain point, around aligner 35, I noticed the bottom aligners showed straight center teeth but my front bottom teeth were not actually straight yet.  I mentioned this to the orthodontist thinking we could fix it then instead of waiting til the end.  He suggested continuing on as planned.  Every week passed and I could tell my teeth were just finding a way to fit into the aligners even though they didn't visually match each other.  Low and behold we get to the last set of aligners when I'm supposed to be done but my bottom teeth still aren't straight.  He says he'll make me a special retainer that'll fix that last bit of crookedness in 1-2 days.  I didn't believe him.  I was right.  I actually wore it for 5 weeks and nothing happened.  My choices were he makes me another special quick fix retainer (no thanks, didn't work the first time) or we do a case refinement.  According to the initial paperwork a case refinement is where you get rescanned and get some new aligners starting from where your teeth are at now.  It said you get 3 without paying any extra.  After that you start paying more which I'm not willing to do.  I thought "3 case refinements" meant 3 more aligners which meant 3 more weeks and I'd be done.  I opted for the case refinement, so I went back and got scanned again.  Two weeks later I was once again called to be informed my new aligners were in.  I was so excited to get in to start my final 3 weeks!  As she brought out a whole new big box I became quite concerned thinking they ordered more than 3 without consulting me and I would be getting charged a buttload for the additional aligners.  But I quickly learned I just didn't understand the fine print correctly.  One case refinement means a whole new box of aligners.  In this case it was a box of 23 more, which equals 23 more weeks.  So I just went from what I thought would be 3 weeks to having 6 months left.  I was so bummed.  The bad news is this will take much longer than originally planned but the good news is they really do give you a lot more aligners to ensure happiness under the original payment plan.  My biggest worry now is I'll get through the 23 new aligners and I'll have to get another case refinement.  Crossing my fingers this first refinement will do the job and I can be done in February, almost 2 years after I started.  I'm now currently on 2 of 23.

If you are considering Invisalign and have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.  I can be your hotline.

2nd grade - pre-braces

4th grade - Apparently I liked crimped hair.  And my teeth were ready for Halloween with black and orange bands.

9th grade - braces almost off!

11th grade - when I should have been wearing my retainers

The large pile of 70+ aligners

The Purge

No, this is not about that disgusting movie in theaters right now where people have 12 hours to commit any crime with no consequences.  What a ridiculous concept and if that ever happens here I'm moving out of country.

This is about a huge accomplishment...at least in my house.  I crossed a huge to-do off my list and that was to purge my closet and dresser.  And holy crap was I successful.  I have removed 218 items from my life that I can't believe I've let clog my space for the past few years.  The last time I did a huge purge was right after the April 2011 tornadoes.  There was no thought put into it or trying stuff on in that situation.  We just threw stuff in bags knowing many people were instantly homeless, practically in our backyard.  More about that here: Volunteering in Tuscaloosa, AL.  This time I weighed my options.  My body has undenyingly gone through many changes over the past 3 years.  When I was pregnant I remember thinking 'I've always been pretty thin, I'll have no problem getting back to my original size without even trying.  I'll be one of the lucky ones.'  WRONG!  My new bazoombas have left me wondering what day in my life I'll choose to go through with a reduction.  And my non-hips pretty much said peace out around June 2012.  I got tired of squeezing freshly clean clothes between and on top of non-fitting, untouched clean clothes.  So after 3 days of chafing my body with too tight outfits I got rid of 103 shirts, 42 pants/capris/shorts, 15 dresses, 11 pairs of shoes, 3 suits, 3 slips (who wears those anymore anyways), 2 skirts, 2 scarves, 1 blazer and a few other onesie, twosie items.  Oh yea, and 1 leotard from that year in college I took ballet with a bunch of other 20-year-olds who had never taken ballet either.  I got one additional use out of it when it became part of my dancing bug costume for Halloween my 5th year.  My closet can now breathe and my dresser drawers are now light enough for Eva to open.  Great.  As I looked at the enormous pile of perfectly good clothes I really had the urge to make some money off of them, but I'm always reminded of how horrible an experience our one and only garage sale down here was.  I don't want to re-live that.  So off it all goes to those less fortunate.

Purging in many ways always feels so much better after the fact even if you feel guilty while doing it.  Purging "friends" from Facebook, purging negative people from your life, purging unused stuff from your home or purging time-wasting activities from your life to replace with fun or healthy new ones always feels so refreshing once it's complete and the guilt is gone.  The one kind of purging I don't recommend is that whole food from your stomach type.  Let's just keep that in there and let it come out the natural way.  So thank you to Eva for being a bit bored last week being stuck in my bedroom while I tried on endless piles of clothes.  Thanks to Joe for letting me take over his bedroom bench where he puts on his socks so I could stack my crap.  And thanks to the donation truck that will be taking 9 garbage bags off my hands today.  It's been real, clothes, but it's time to let some other skinny bitch wear you.  Those days are over.  I'm looking at the positive.  If I ever get back to that size I'll just have to go on a really big shopping spree!

On a side note, you may have noticed I have come up with a new name for my blog: My Groggy Bloggy.  If I am ever writing it is most likely because I am sacrificing sleep to sit down and write.  So whatever you read was done in a groggy state of mind.  And "bloggy" clearly isn't a word, but when you're exhausted (especially if you're me) you don't verbally speak very eloquently, thus mumbling and creating new words.  So there you have it.  I hope you continue to enjoy my groggy bloggy.

Most of the 218 items

9 bags off to the donation truck

Dancing Bug (bye-bye leotard)

Misinterpreted Expectations

When I was a working mom I had these images in my head of what it would be like if I stayed home. And as the prospect of staying home started becoming more realistic those images continued, but with even more gusto.  I have to admit, one of the things I was most looking forward to (other than spending more time with my daughter) was being productive.  I was Wonder Woman in my head!  The house would stay clean more often, I would learn how to cook and have wonderful meals a few times a week, I would have children activities scheduled out in advance, I would get back to my many hobbies, I would become a Pinterest fanatic and maybe become so creative with my free time that I wouldn't even need Pinterest, cabinets and closets would get purged during Eva's nap times, my home office would get organized again, those things on my to-do list from over 2 years ago would get accomplished, the frames around the house would get filled and updated along with the baby book, I would be excited about art activities with Eva, I would work out every morning before she wakes up...AND I WOULD DO IT ALL WITH SO MUCH ENERGY!!

Three months into staying home I can tell you I have failed.  My expectations were too great.  The thoughts in my head were unknowingly a fantasy.  I do not work out before she gets up because she gets up at 5am.  I have made three nice meals (that equals one per month if you can't do the math) because my husband travels so much there's no reason to make a big meal for myself and a kid who probably won't eat it.  The house has become more dirty.  My office is still a disaster.  Frames are still empty.  I don't get excited about art activities because it equals a mess I have to clean up.  I have re-introduced myself to one hobby which is this, writing, but I often do it with a whiny child in the background or at night as my head bobs from exhaustion.  I am proud to say I have purged one cabinet.

Those who don't stay at home may ask, "So what do you do all day if none of this is getting done?"  Here is my answer.  I am following a curious child around like its shadow because all she wants to do right now is get into the things I've told her not to get into.  I am saying "no," "stop," "don't," "get down," "get off," "sit down," "stand up," "put that back," "put that away," "no ma'am," "get off the dog," "don't kick the dog," "pet nice," "go play," "pick that up," but most importantly, "I love you."  I am "making" three meals a day which equals about 3 hours because my child does not inhale food like some.  Instead she incessantly asks for cheese and anything else I give her is smeared around her tray and eaten at snail speed.  (Side note: I just had to wipe crayon off the wood floor).  Nap time is a luxury that does not last long enough.  I always have good intentions of using her nap time productively, but I usually fail at this too.  The 1-3 hours I get when she naps goes faster than any other time I've ever had 1-3 hours in my life.  I've watched or listened to Elmo's Potty Time DVD more than I can count.  I limit it to once a day both for my sanity and to feel like a good mom for not giving her too much screen time. I can only hear little kids and muppets state what they call pee and poop so much.  When Gordon (a human) is telling Elmo, Baby Bear and Curly Bear different terms we use for our waste I always smile thinking how awesome it'd be if instead of him saying "Number 1 and Number 2" he'd say "piss and shit."  The irony of using curse words on a children's program makes me giggle, if only for a moment.  I am constantly explaining why I can't take her grandparents out of pictures or characters out of books.  She insists on grabbing at these items while saying "out."  I am running errands and buying necessities.  I am reading the same books over and over.  I am saying no to cheese about 30 times a day.  I am taking her to the pool, swim lessons, library, zoo, park, botanical gardens, etc.  I am reading newsletter emails and websites that inform me of activities for kids around town, preferably cheap or free.  I am giving nightly baths and taking a shower whenever I can find time to de-grease myself - usually during nap or bedtime so I can do it in peace.  I am doing daily tasks like dishes and laundry.  I am changing diapers.  I am in the early stages of potty training which means staring at a half naked baby waiting impatiently for just one dribble to come out so I can shout Hooray!  And I am doing much of this WITH NO ENERGY AT ALL!!  She drains me from the moment I'm forced awake at 5am.  And somehow, even though I've done much of the above each day and am exhausted I can get to the end of the day and feel like I've accomplished nothing.  I'm beginning to think I was more productive at home when I worked 40 hours a week.  Something about the structure of life during that time helped me mark things off my personal list in addition to working and being a mom.  But then again I was only seeing her for 5 waking hours at the most each day.

In the Fall Eva will begin Mother's Day Out just twice a week for four hours.  I am looking forward to this.  Although I will worry about her those 8 hours of every week because I am putting her safety in the hands of someone else, I know it will benefit my sanity and her social education.  And I pray to God it benefits my productivity.  Once again I have this image in my head of ALL the things I'll accomplish in those 8 hours.  We will see.

The other day while wiping something down with Eva's baby wipe I noticed some dirt on the back of my hand.  I tried wiping it off only to discover they were two new age spots.  I guess I'm blessed with those instead of gray hairs.  I realize this all sounds like a complaint.  But for every trying experience that may last minutes or even hours, for every age spot, for every toddler tantrum, for all my failed expectations, for every ounce of energy that is stolen from me there is a smile that melts my heart, a run-at-me-fast smooshy hug, a hand that wants to hold mine and a sleepy face that wants to drift off to sleep looking at me.  And I somehow find myself wanting another.  I guess everything else will have to wait.

Watching Elmo's Potty Time.  Yes, I realize her pants are on inside out.  At least the tag was in the back.

I kept up on this really well until month 11.  It's been almost a year since month 11.

The mess that ensues every day.  You can see that it even makes Eva overwhelmed.

Happy at Aldridge Gardens

The Death Bed Method

As I've become older, wiser, more confident and less self-conscious, my views and opinions of myself have gradually changed.  We all have things we like and dislike about ourselves (both internally and externally).  If we have the right attitude some of the things we didn't like about ourselves at one time are things we learn to love, or at least accept.  I had a major mental switch before I started high school.  I attribute this to a list I made at the beginning of summer after I graduated middle school.  Up through 8th grade I was always very shy and self-conscious, always worried about everything.  And when anything happened it felt ten times worse because I had already been worrying.  It was a no fun way to live and I didn't want to start high school the same way, so I made a list with things such as:
1. Smile a lot
2. Wear what I want
3. Get involved
4. Compliment people more
5. Stop worrying about what might happen

I wish I still had this list.  I think it had around 20 items.  Once this list was made I made sure to read it every day that summer.  The more I read it the more I believed it and the more I actually did the things on that list.  To this day I believe doing this self-made assignment is the reason my high school days and college days were so fun and memorable.  I would totally relive those 8 1/2 years of my life if I could.  I also feel it carried through into my adult life.  Although becoming an adult via real jobs, layoffs, marriage woes, toddler tantrums, increasing a few pant sizes & paying bills has maybe tainted a level of that positive attitude, I still feel that list was a positive reinforcement that changed the course of my life.  I no longer have that original list, however I still use a similar strategy; it just no longer involves pulling out a sheet of paper every day to read.  My adult version of that list is now what I call the Death Bed Method.  It goes something like this in my head:

Trying on bikinis for an upcoming vacation sans child: "This accents my muffin top.  I don't know if I should be wearing this anymore.  My boobs look good in it but my stomach doesn't.  Will my hips ever go back to their pre-birth size?  Probably not.  Will this matter on my death bed?  No.  Buy it."

Or this:
"Ever since I became a stay-at-home-mom I rarely look presentable.  I wear workout clothes all day (even though I haven't worked out), have my hair in a ponytail and neglect putting on make-up.  And I actually leave the house most days looking like this.  Do other people I pass in the stores who I'll never see again really care?  Maybe.  Will it matter on my death bed?  No.  Keep doing it cause it saves time."

When I'm on my death bed surely no one will be saying "If only she wore make-up more often while mothering her kids" or "Do you remember that picture she posted 51 years ago on Facebook in that bikini?  Yikes!"

So the next time you're questioning yourself just ask "will this matter on my death bed?"  If the answer is no then the answer to your issue isn't that big of a deal and shouldn't take that long to make.  Instead, spend your time on the issues that answer the question with a yes.