Did I Say That Out Loud?

Getting Away

2010-05-13T09:17:00.000-07:00

I’ve abandoned my family. Well, just for a long weekend. But, it is the first time I’ve left the children for more than a local hotel overnight to catch up on my sleep. I have a thousand thoughts rushing through my head. In no particular order:

- I hope my husband doesn’t take his eyes off the three- year old and/or one-year old long enough for them to strangle themselves in the window blind cords, run out the door of the house and get run over by a car, or climb something tall and fall from a great height. I am thinking of more potential calamities, but how much screen space really needs to be devoted to this point? I’m sure you get the idea.

- My husband gave me a gorgeous pink sapphire cocktail ring which I created an entire outfit around for this trip. Of course, the ring is back at home - without me or the outfit. I hope it has a great weekend, too.

- This weekend is costing us a lot of money. I’m okay with that and my husband appears to be as well. Probably because I’m not a big spender. But, I really hope that the experience is worth the money.

- On that note, I am putting a lot of hope on this being a “Great Memory” experience. Oh, I do build things up in my head. Sometimes, just to come crashing down. I’m trying to be realistic here. Nothing can ever live up to my expectations.

- The chaos of moving and a baby who doesn’t sleep well have left me feeling the “mommy woes” lately. We aren’t unpacked and the house is usually in a state of intense disarray. When my husband is home with the children, he tends to get them to behave, clean the house to its sparkling finest, and be relatively calm upon my return. I want things to go well in my absence, but not TOO well.

- I have convinced three friends to join me on this trip. I also feel the burden of their experience being wonderful. Will they hate me if all this sucks?

Now that I’ve shared some of my neuroses, I’ll fill you in on what I’m about to embark upon. I recently moved to Washington D.C., which happens to be a glorious three hour train ride from New York City. I’m on my way to the Big Apple.

Who needs a reason to visit New York? But, I have one. It’s kind of embarrassing so try not to judge. It’s Oprah. She called and asked me to come, and who doesn’t jump for Oprah?

No, I’m kidding. It IS Oprah, but only in my best daydreams does Ms. Winfrey have my phone number. Actually, it’s a weekend festival of sorts to celebrate her magazine’s 10th anniversary. I’m an avid O reader and was willing to pay the shockingly high price for a Friday welcome reception, Saturday keynote by Oprah and “lifeshop” seminars with three of O magazine’s contributing writers, Saturday evening event with Oprah at Radio City Music Hall, and Sunday walk for charity.

I’m thrilled to share this weekend with three dear friends. Oprah was really just the catalyst for the get-together. Spending time and getting away from our daily grind is what this experience is all about.

It’s occurred to me that I haven’t really recharged my batteries in four years. Despite the burden of deployments, they do give my husband an opportunity to recharge and reassess without the family around. Probably the fact that he takes good advantages of these deployment “opportunities” is one reason why they haven’t broken him or our family the way they have impacted so many other military families.

So, for that reason, I’m excited to get away, although I will miss my husband and children dearly. I am looking forward to spending time with the woman who will be returning to them - a woman who knows when it’s important to step back and take a moment for herself.

Camp Cope

2010-04-25T18:24:00.000-07:00

As a military family, we have faced firsthand the hardship of war. My husband has been gone more than half of my almost four-year-old son's life. We struggle to maintain our family bonds while he is away, and it is a constant challenge.

We've recently moved to the Washington D.C. area, and over the last three months have spent our time surrounded by military families, who seem to be in a daily state of flux as they send a loved one off on a deployment, welcome someone home, or deal with the struggles of having a parent gone.

That's why I was so excited to learn about Camp Cope (http://www.campcope.org/). This incredible organization brings day-long therapeutic workshops to areas across the United States which are hardest hit by military deployments.

At these FREE workshops, children are divided into groups based on their age and the particular circumstance they are dealing with (deployed parent, injured parent, or lost parent). Among their peers who are facing similar struggles, these kids are given great tools for dealing with this unique military life. Tools which families report are helping kids do better in school, interact better with their family, and exhibit fewer behavior problems.

While the kids are in their workshops, parents can either get a day off (which is an amazing gift while your spouse is deployed) or take advantage of parent workshops that focus on parenting alone - OR attend a special couples' workshop (if their spouse is available).

Since the program is open to children four years and up, Camp Cope even offers childcare for younger family members so everyone can focus on the resources available.

In addition to these amazing services, Camp Cope also trains local counselors on how to meet the special needs of military families. That way, once the workshop is complete, families who need additional therapy can find the right resource in their community.

And, it's all free!

I was honored to learn more about Camp Cope from its co-founder Sarah Bravo. She shared with me the incredible work this organization is doing - and on a shoe-string budget. It costs just $125 for one child to attend the day-long session - a fee that is NEVER passed on to families. Instead, money is raised through donations and grants.

That's why I am walking on behalf of Camp Cope in New York on Mother's Day, May 9. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate being a mom than doing something to help children of the military community, to which my family so proudly belongs.

If you're interested in supporting Camp Cope, please consider making a donation - in any amount. Your help truly does make a difference in the lives of our military children, who are serving our country, too!

You can donate on my fundraising page http://www.lybl2010walk.com/oliviaburley - 100% of your donation will benefit Camp Cope and is tax deductible. Oh, and don't worry, the cost of the walk is paid through registration fees from each participant, not through your donation!

Thank you!

Fckng Light!

2010-03-02T19:35:00.000-08:00

You would probably not guess this if you met me, but I can swear like a sailor. The profanity laced in my speech is directly correlated with the stress I am under and exactly how sleep-deprived I am.

Mostly, I just say "crap" when I am frustrated. I'm not exactly proud of it, but it's not that bad, right?

Then, I had a kid. Who is very verbal.

He started saying "crap," too.

Most people attribute these sorts of bad habits that children come by to either their father or that kid down the block who doesn't get bathed frequently enough.

In this case, it's the wholesome mom who is to blame.

I never really worried about "crap" because it isn't hurting someone else. You're not calling a name or putting someone down when you say it. The part of it that doesn't sit well with me is that I am a lover of words - and this is really the best I can come up to express myself? How common.

I made a concerted effort to stop saying "crap" when I heard my then three-year old son say, "Crap, I can't find my blankie."

In the last month (plus a few days), we've packed our home, found renters for our old house, visited in-laws, driven part way across country as a family, stayed in temporary housing in DC, traveled to Alabama for my husband's training, and determined that we have no idea where we'll be living this summer - plus, the baby isn't sleeping at night.

I'm swearing again.

Not just "crap" lately, either. Words as strong as a vodka tonic - minus the tonic.

And, my wake up call to cut it out came today when I was driving the kids to the bookstore. The light turned red, and Carson exclaims from the backseat, "F*ck*ng Light!"

Yes, this really happened.

And, I am completely ashamed. I did NOT make a huge deal out of it since that would only encourage him to continue saying it. I DID explain to him that mommy makes mistakes sometimes, and saying that word is not nice at all. I also promised him that I would try hard to say only nice words. He helped me come up with some new frustrated words. They are (in no particular order):
- Crayons
- Flowers
- Shoulder

So, if you hear me shout "Oh, crayons!", you'll know what I really mean.

A Sense of Entitlement

2010-02-28T07:49:00.000-08:00

Another day, another celebrity revealed as cheating on their spouse because they feel "entitled." What is this about? I find it so frustrating that these personal exploits are playing out in the media, but it also makes me question why so many people with power and money are unable to be faithful to their partner.

And, when these men get caught because their mistress came forward or their wife found their text messages or something else equally unsavory, does it seem sincere to anyone that they are sorry and will never cheat again? Doesn't if seem that if they hadn't been caught, they would probably have just continued with those behaviors?

Are men (yes, I am specifically talking about men here) so ruled by their anatomy that they can't control themselves? Yes, I know there are plenty of men who are faithful, but there are so many who aren't.

I overheard two married men at a family barbecue last year (one was someone I really respected) commenting on a teenage girl's body in what they thought was a private conversation. I was completely disgusted but wonder if men just can't control a physical response to women.

Of course, I know that women cheat, too. Although, it seems that women cheat for an emotional connection and usually have an affair with one person at a time.

I wonder what percentage of married men would be able to resist an offer to have sex with a hot body without ever being caught or getting a disease - a no-strings-attached, one-night affair.

I do think humans are very sexual creatures. It surprises me when women say they completely trust their husbands and know they would NEVER cheat on them. I don't think we can ever be certain of anyone that way.

This is a challenge for me in my own marriage because my husband travels and is gone for such long periods of time. It drives him crazy, but when he returns from a deployment, I always ask him to honestly let me know if he has cheated - and if it's safe for us to be physical. Of course, he could lie to me, but I have trusted him to be honest in those moments. I believe in my husband and know he will make his best effort to be true to me, but temptation, time, and distance complicate that. As so many military families have found.

Temptation, time, and distance complicate an ability to stay faithful for military wives as well. I have no interest in being with anyone else - either emotionally or physically. During his deployments, I was so consumed with our children that it wasn't an option. I also take my marriage vows very seriously. I truly believe I would fail in my marriage and let down my husband, my children, myself, and my God if I ever explored a relationship with someone other than my husband. That said, I know I'm human and have to work to be true to my husband.

We once attended a marriage seminar with very conservative leaders. My husband and I were unimpressed with a lot of the messages shared but took home one important concept - "Stay off the porch!" If you want to avoid temptation in your marriage, don't put yourself in the path of temptation. It's a good reminder for me - I have had to ask myself a few times if something might be the porch leading to cheating.

This post isn't prompted by a fissure in my own marriage but rather with the news reports of Tiger Woods, John Edwards, etc. coming forward with their affairs in the news. (I figure I'd better clarify that.)

So, what's the answer? I wish I knew! After almost eight years of marriage and two children, it seems like the more time alone my husband and I have, the more closely connected we are. Is this true for everyone else?

Since time alone is so important to us, we have to work incredibly hard to maintain that connection while he is deployed (we do it through email and Skype - thank God for Skype!). We are in the process of relocating and managing many sleepless night for our infant daughter so evenings alone and babysitters are going to be hard to come by. We're working on it every day, though...every stolen moment alone is a gift lately.

I was going to end this post wanting to celebrate the couples who are committed to each other. But, it occurred to me that sometimes it's those couples who are later revealed as being in damaged relationships. Oh well.

Stay at Home Mom vs. Housewife

2009-11-02T20:09:00.001-08:00

I take on so few freelance writing or marketing assignments lately that I have stopped bothering to say I either work part time or work from home. I always used to point that out when I introduced myself to people. Lately, I'm too tired to care that my career is fading before my eyes while I focus on my kids.

I think I originally stayed home with them (or decided to work part time from home) out of some misguided belief that having me around all the time would be more beneficial to my kids than going to daycare or having a nanny.

As the dishes and laundry piled up, I realized that staying home with my kids came with an understanding from my husband that I would also do the housework?

Wait, I never agreed to that!

I was busy nurturing their minds! We were attending music classes, playdates, co-op parent involvement preschool, and structured activities at the children's museums. We were building blocks, forts, and stacks of toilet paper tubes. Add to that the 30-minutes of reading (double the recommendation), classical music, art, and fresh air nature hikes, and there simply was NO TIME to clean. If we had hired a nanny, I wouldn't expect her to clean the house for us, so why were these chores being put on me?

It was important to me that I clarify the difference between a Stay at Home Mom (which I was) versus a Housewife (which I was not).

As the years have passed since my first child was born, I have realized that staying home with them is more for me than them. My kids both thrive with other people. My son relishes playdates that don't involve me (there are two people who I have trusted to do this) and casually waves at me when I drop him off at his unaccompanied two-morning-a-week preschool. Kids I know that have been exposed to daycare settings or nannies are thriving and learning so much - and seem very happy. Just as happy and maybe even more educated than my kids.

I think I wanted to stay home with my kids because then I would at least know the damage that was done to them rather than wondering if they had been harmed by someone else. I raise my voice at my son more often than I care to admit. My expectations of him are more in line with a 10 year old rather than a three year old. Today, I was feeling sick, and we watched movie after movie after movie. These things wouldn't happen if he was in daycare, but the unknown scares me. What exactly would happen.

More than that fear, though, I cherish my moments with my kids. We laugh. We dance. We cuddle. Then, we cuddle some more. I wouldn't trade our days for anything.

When my daughter was born and my husband went on a long deployment, I realized that I couldn't let the housework pile up - at ALL. Since my baby is a horrible sleeper, I have no time in the evenings to do anything, and that means I have to spend a good part of each day with household drudgery. I miss the times I neglected the chores and just focused on the kids.

My husband will be horrified to read this.

But, the reality of it is that the cleaner my house is, the worse I feel as a parent. It's just not the reason I chose to stay home.

I applaud the women who are able to do it all, but I am a focus on one thing at a time kind of a girl. And this moment in time is about my kids. Even though it may not be the best thing for them. It's the best thing for me. I do hope they're enjoying the ride, though.

Vaccines, MRSA, and Other Fears - Oh My

2009-10-20T21:27:00.001-07:00

So the sick fall season has started early this year. Everyone I know (okay, not EVERYONE) but a lot of people I know are sick. The air is abuzz with "Is it swine flu?" And often it is.

I'm terrified of my kids getting sick. Not myself. Although the idea of my kids going through life without a mother (correction, without me as a mother) can make me weep in my coffee on the right day, so it's important for me to stay healthy for that reason.

But what has me anxious is the idea that MY KIDS could get sick. Of course, they have had ear infections, colds, viruses, etc. All that normal kid stuff.

REALLY sick is what terrifies me. I have friends who have suffered this way and am amazed at their strength. I'm not sure I'm that strong.

You'd think with this great fear I have of crazy disease - H1N1, MRSA infections living on the backs of a huge percentage of the population's hands and so on - that I would be racing out to get my kids vaccinated.

What scares me more than my kids getting sick - is making the wrong choice about getting them vaccinated.

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate.

My children have had almost every vaccine. I've researched, asked questions, informally polled friends - and admittedly gotten caught up in some hype.

I completely respect people's decisions to vaccinate or not to vaccinate. I know the massive benefits of vaccinations and also understand the gray cloud that swirls around them.

My husband is forced by the military to receive a variety of vaccines. I'm grateful to them for keeping him healthy but also understand that he really doesn't have a choice (they basically own him), and he could be part of a giant science experiment.

The flu vaccine has always made me wary - and this H1N1 vaccine makes me feel even more nervous. I wish there was a crystal ball to peer into the future and know for sure that there are no side effects.

Of course, if my children were to contract the virus and have serious side effects, I'd never forgive myself. And, if they receive the vaccine and develop serious side effects (or coincidentally become ill around the same time), I'll never forgive myself.

What's a mother to do? I wish I had the answers. Right now, I'm in a holding pattern. As more people get sick around us, I feel like I am running out of time to make a decision.

What's Your Definition of a Feminist

2009-09-28T19:32:00.000-07:00

I used my Facebook status update to mention casually that I'm a feminist. My Facebook friends had several comments on this - which surprised me.

What exactly did they think I was? Um, is there an opposite of feminist? Woman hater?

Anyway, someone asked what my definition of a feminist is, and I responded with EQUAL. Because, really, that's all it boils down to.

I think women are equal to men. What an astounding concept!

Not, of course, in physical capability. No, obviously, men simply can't touch us there as we manage to bleed and cramp monthly while we go about our normal routines (I think men would have an automatic 12 menstrual days of leave each year if they had periods), squeeze babies out of our vaginas, oversee the contraception issue in most relationships, and allow milk to pour from our breasts (yes, dudes, that's actually what those are for!) to sustain our children.

Yes, I'm speaking tongue in cheek. My husband, frustratingly, is stronger and faster than me. I admit it.

Intellectually, though, we're on an even keel. We're partners in our marriage and in life. No one is always the leader, and I'm grateful that he is mature enough to value me in that way. A lot of men aren't.

Many of them have worked for me. But that's another blog.

I understand that there are inherent differences between men and women. That was made all too clear to me after I had a son who was pulled with the earth's gravitational force toward trucks, swords, and sports.

Despite those differences, though, men and women simply are EQUAL.

While it isn't necessarily a part of my definition of feminism, I also think it's important to note that I don't believe a woman needs a man (or a man needs a woman) to function, live, or be complete. I adore my husband but would certainly have lived a productive and joyful life had we not met. I would also have managed to take care of myself (as I do when he is frequently deployed).

As Irina Dunn said, "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle."

I guess I'm a fish who loves her bike but enjoyed swimming, too.

Post Partum Depression and the Partridge Family

2009-09-07T22:32:00.000-07:00

My son was a horrible sleeper from birth. He would only sleep if he was being held. He was diagnosed with reflux, but I think he just wanted to be near me or my husband. Anyway, after five months of sleep deprivation, I was starting to go crazy.

My husband believed that because he was working a job out of the house that I should be responsible for staying up with our baby. Basically, I was on - days and nights.

I didn't agree with his perspective on this for quite a few reasons.
1. My "job" was raising the kid. It was hard even though I didn't leave the house. Being with the baby 24 hours a day was slowly killing me.
2. I actually did work quite a bit the first year of my son's life. I can't fathom right now how I managed that. We did have a nanny come in once a week. I was writing a lot then for a small business publication and had several clients. Although I wasn't the primary bread winner, I was winning a few morsels.
3. Everyone needs sleep. You will go insane without it. It doesn't matter if you're staying home with the kids (maybe it's more important then) or working a real "job."

Anyway, by month five, I was a basket case. I remember calling my husband while he was at a friend's house, demanding that he come home. And, calling him as he commuted home from work, crying. There was a lot of calling him - and crying.

Finally, one night I was holding my son in his beautiful nursery at about 3:30 a.m. And, I realized that the Partridge Family was at the door. I was so excited that they had finally agreed to take me in their groovy bus on tour with them. For a minute, it occurred to me that I might be dreaming - this was just too good to be true. Then, I realized that no - this was real, and I was going to be a Partridge.

I stood up with the baby in my arms to go answer the door, and it hit me. Yes, I was awake. But, the Partridges weren't here for me.

I walked quickly to our master bedroom where my husband was sleeping (a wicked part of me wants to add "like a baby"). I woke him up and tried to explain, but I don't think he understood anything through my tears as I handed our precious baby to him and crawled into bed.

The next day, I went to the Navy medical clinic and met with a psychiatrist. I was terrified that I had some kind of mental illness.

He asked me a series of questions from a form, hardly even looking at me. One of the questions was how much sleep I was getting and how often. I told him that I slept the week before my son was born - five months earlier - for about five hours. Since then, I'd slept at most about three hours in a row.

He looked up when I answered that way and made eye contact with me for the first time, "Do you know that sleep deprivation is considered a form of torture? Your job is to go home and get some uninterrupted sleep. Someone else has to watch your baby."

He prescribed a sleeping pill and an antidepressant. I was shocked how easily he handed out the meds. He never called to see how I was doing or even suggested that I schedule follow-up counseling sessions. I never took the antidepressants, but I adored those sleeping pills. They helped me drift off and rest much faster than I would have without them.

Rest. It was delicious. Like ice cream or chocolate. Or chocolate ice cream.

We had a basement at the time, and I used to go in there a couple of times a week while my husband had baby duty following the Partridge Family incident. Oh, the twin bed in there was such a haven for me.

Rereading this post, it may come across that my husband is a bad father, but he's the opposite. He is wonderfully engaged and present with our children. But, you don't know what you don't know. He was a much more willing nighttime parent for our second baby - prior to leaving for deployment. (But I guess I can't really hold that against him. One good thing about being deployed is that he doesn't have to have nighttime baby duty, but I know he would take it in a minute to be home with his family.)

An Elective C-Section

2009-09-02T16:19:00.000-07:00

As a 30 year old pregnant person, I had yet to meet anyone who had one of those fabled empowering birth experiences. I had been in the delivery room to greet two babies (both from the same mother) and was horrified at how clinical, bloody, terrifying, and painful the experience seemed. Following both births, the mom was too exhausted to do more than pat the babies and then fall asleep.

My mother frequently told me the horror story that was my birth - how she bled so much she needed a transfusion, was kept in the hospital weeks after I was born, and had to resist the urge to "walk into the light" after I was delivered and she lay dying on the table - a result of a horrific labor.

Although I was overjoyed to be pregnant, I wasn't so keen on giving birth.

The matter was further aggravated when the ship my husband was stationed on (he's in the Navy) deployed, and he wasn't scheduled to be home in time for my due date. Did this mean I would have to suffer through the horrifying birth experience ALONE?

I spent the second and third trimesters alone, writing a lot of emails to my husband. My belly grew, and I began having near constant contractions around my 30th week - which required me to have extended bedrest and a hospital stay. The continuous monitoring meant I had several ultrasounds throughout my pregnancy, and I was told that I was carrying a macrosomia - a BIG baby.

Then, we received news that my husband's ship would have a brief stay in Hawaii right around my due date. He would have about two days to come home.

We struggled with what to do. I read online that about 30 percent of deliveries end up being C-Sections, and that helped me make my decision. I would have a scheduled C-Section for the following reasons:
1. So my husband could be there!
2. To avoid the horrific labor experience I had heard about and witnessed.
3. Because my macrosomia would probably require a C-Section anyway.
4. If 30 percent of deliveries were C-Sections, I would rather just plan for it than end up being one of those people.

There were definitely some benefits to having a scheduled C-Section. We knew exactly what was coming, my husband was able to be there, and (much later) sex resumed in (what I've heard from friends) in a more pleasurable way.

But, there were some definite drawbacks.

1. When my son was born, I was pretty out of it. I was awake for the surgery, but the meds had made me a bit loopy. When I was asked if I wanted to hold him, I think I declined. That's so embarrassing to admit now.

2. Breastfeeding was not easy for me. It took almost a week for my son and me to work it out. Thankfully (because it was important to me - not because I think formula sucks - no pun intended - or anything), we got the hang of it, and I was able to nurse him for a full year. I think my lack of interest in holding him when he was first born and the medications made nursing more difficult - but I don't have any specific evidence to back this up.

3. Recovery was awful. My husband left the day after my son was born. I was home alone with a newborn for almost a month. It hurt to carry him, to walk, to get out of bed. I was afraid to take any pain medications because I didn't want to sleep through him needing me. I was in near constant agony for almost three weeks. It felt like someone had sliced through all the skin and muscle of the delicate region in my stomach - oh wait, someone had!

4. My stomach will NEVER feel the same. I don't care about the scar, but it's weird to have no sensation on a large area of my body. Actually, lack of sensation isn't the right word. It's just an anti-feeling. Hard to explain.

5. I'm a very liberal person, and the crowd I run with is pretty heavily invested in breastfeeding, natural labor, and organic food. I feel like a bit of a misfit for having had an elective C-Section.

I hired a doula to help me out post surgery. Doulas are notorious for being crusaders for breastfeeding, natural labor, and organic food. My doula Megan Miles definitely is a proponent of those things, but she never judged me. She visited me in the hospital and then came to help out at my house after we were home. She pampered me, took care of the baby, rubbed my back when I cried, and gave me endless support and encouragement for breastfeeding. She even assuaged my fears when I shared I was afraid to go out in public with my baby boy - because obviously someone was waiting to kidnap him, gently suggesting that I may be going through a mild case of postpartum depression.

I wouldn't say I regret having a C-Section, but I do wonder about the power my body has to deliver a baby all on its own.

When I have to breastfeed my baby girl in public, I always ask whoever is present, "Do you mind if I nurse?" - knowing that I will tear into them if they have a problem with my breasts performing their intended, God-created function (rather than the Man-created Playboy-esque sexuality that has been inflicted upon women's breasts).

I guess I wonder about the God-created function of my body - and it's power to bring a baby into the world.

Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover

2009-09-01T21:56:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to find the right words to start this post. I think a story is in order.

A few years ago, I got together with a bunch of friends from high school. An old "boyfriend" (as much as someone can be a boyfriend when you're 15) was there with his wife. She was beautiful in a very nontraditional way. Her hair was dyed a deep maroon, and she wore horn-rimmed glasses. She had a perfect complexion and gorgeous dark eyes. She was witty and clearly abhorred anything common.

She thought I was common.

Just from my appearance. My hair had blond highlights at the time. I hadn't had a baby yet and was pretty slim. I was wearing big hoop earrings, jeans, and an aqua tank top. Nothing special.

We were discussing the children of several people at the gathering, and this woman mentioned some issues she was having with her daughter. I said something along the lines of "That's an age where we all just want to fit in."

She stared at me and then said, "For some people, having a daughter who fits in is the ultimate dream, but for me it would be a nightmare. I would never want my daughter to turn into some blond Barbie Doll."

Years later, I think of that comment frequently. We all give an image off to people, but I hate that my appearance or some of my baser interests give people the impression that I'm a flake. Ordinary. Superficial.

Isn't in possible to enjoy the "Twilight" books while loving "The Red Tent"? Can I rock out to Britney Spears and Death Cab for Cutie? Does loving mindless reality TV mean I can't have season tickets to the symphony or the theatre? Spending time with my kids or working out doesn't mean I don't commit myself to political causes and volunteerism.

Pigeon-holing people is so easy. But who really fits into any one mold? Most of us have so many different layers.

And, just for the record, if my kid decided to be a blond Barbie Doll - I think there are worse things that could happen. (As long as she's Barbie with a Brain!)

What Matters Most To Me

2009-08-31T22:50:00.000-07:00

I just completed the first exercise for Every Monday Matters.

It was an intensely personal look at how I am spending my time. Granted, I have a baby who usually only lasts 30 minutes to an hour in her crib - and a husband who is deployed, but the program still revealed a lot to me.

None of it is particularly shocking.

I am spending too much time online! I know this. It's been my way to stay connected to my husband since he's deployed, friends/family who are far away, and other important people in my life who are hard to catch up with now that I have kids. But, I am still spending too much time on Facebook and checking email (I think I'm an addict the way the next generation is addicted to texting).

I'm spending too much time putting out fires. Rather than keeping the house clean and taking care of daily business, I am having to do major overhauls, find stuff, etc. because I'm not staying on top of the business of living. I hear this from so many moms I know. I recognized this in myself prior to starting this project, but it's a good reminder.

I don't have a lot of free time to get my chores done. When I do have a chance to do those sort of projects, I often find that my mind and body are numb from the cycle of life I'm in right now. I am exhausted from the baby and worn out from being a single parent at the moment. I veg-out when I need to be up-and-at-em!

I need to be focusing more time on what matters to me: enjoying my kids (versus taking care of them), volunteering, writing, spending time with friends, and my non-people passions (fashion, art, theater, music, books). My self care time has whittled down to brushing my teeth and washing my hair. This is not good.

We all have the same number of hours each day. I just need to start using mine more effectively. I am ashamed of the example I'm setting for my kids. I know a lot of this is situational, and I certainly haven't hit rock bottom. But, I need to start making a change to focus on What Matters Most to Me.

Every Monday Matters

2009-08-30T20:50:00.000-07:00

I admit, I'm an Oprah devotee. Not religiously, but I am a fan of her book club concept (simply encouraging people to read is bad ass), her campaigns for self improvement, and her push to get people to volunteer and donate.

So, I was absolutely inspired when I heard about her participation in Every Monday Matters. Basically, the idea is to turn Mondays (the most dreaded day of the week) into a day where simple acts of service can help change the world. On Oprah's website, www.oprah.com, Keisha Whitaker blogs about the weekly assignments and has introduced the concept.

But, Oprah didn't create Every Monday Matters. The concept started when authors Matthew Emerzian and Kelly Bozza wrote the book "Every Monday Matters". Their website www.everymondaymatters.com gives the specific weekly assignments and other information on how to participate.

These are simple projects that you don't need a ton of time or money to complete. They are easily relatable to everyone, and help form a grassroots effort to make a difference.

I love this!

I've been an enthusiastic volunteer since I was a 12 year old candy striper at Victory Memorial Hospital outside of Chicago. Having children cut so deeply into my time for volunteering that I formed a group - the Family Volunteer Team - that hosts projects monthly for families to bring their children and volunteer together. The idea is to encourage children to make their own contribution and also show them how important volunteering is - while allowing the adults to volunteer without having to find childcare!

It seems like we have become a population that celebrates self more than giving, more than making a difference, more than making a day MATTER. Labels, appearances, money, tabloids, over scheduling - just some of the vices that are gripping us. I'm caught up in all of that just like the next person. Which is why I'm excited for this movement and know it's going to make a positive difference in my life.

The first Monday project asks you to decide what matters most to you. Through a series of thought-provoking questions, you are encouraged to create lists that help you determine the most important things in your life - and how to focus on them.

I'm thrilled to get started and can't wait to Make Monday Matter!

Friends Every Mom Needs

2009-08-29T14:59:00.000-07:00

Being a stay at home mom connects you almost inseparably with your child but often rips you apart from the world of girlfriends, power lunches, and outside interests. The joy of sharing experiences with your little one can make it all seem worthwhile – and most people would agree that the benefits far outweigh the sacrifices.

But, in the chaos that can be raising kids, it’s important to maintain old and build new friendships. They are essential for your well-being. I’m sure you’ve heard that you must take care of yourself so you can care for your child.

Despite how busy you are and the minimal amount of time you probably have to yourself, there are some steps you can take to help stay connected to others.

Create a support group of women who are in the SAME PLACE as you.
The “same place” means staying home from work with their child, living in a place that is geographically convenient to you, and having children who are the same ages as your kids.

Why does sameness matter? Women who are at home with their kids can empathize with the issues you’re facing. Certainly, you shouldn’t say sayonara to your working friends, but you need a network of people who know what it’s like to “power lunch” with a one-year old and can have a serious discussion about the merits of Sesame Street versus Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

You’ll need to see this network of women face-to-face so they must be close enough to make getting together convenient. Online friends are great, but again don’t fit this need.

Finally, particularly as a new parent, you’ll likely be sensitive to the differences in ages between children. It’s easier to have a playdate with two 13-month olds compared to a 13-month old and a 3-year old. When you’re that young, 23 months makes a big difference. Plus, you’ll be going through milestones together – teething, sleeping, walking, climbing, etc. You can share ideas, resources – and a shoulder – as needed.

So, where do you find women who fill these needs? Here are some ideas:
1. The Hospital: Many hospitals offer weekly parenting groups that are segmented based on the ages of the children. Contact your local hospitals to see if they provide this service. There may be a small fee.
2. County/City Matchup Programs: Contact your local government child welfare resources departments and ask about new parenting groups in the area. My community offers a group for new parents called PEPS (Program for Early Parent Support) – www.pepsgroup.org. They connect parents who live near one another and have children born within six-weeks of each other. The organization provides a group leader for the first 12 weekly meetings and also offers speakers to discuss parenting topics. Two years later, I continue to meet weekly with the group of six women I was connected with. They have become my dear friends – and their children are now my son’s friends as well. For a similar group in your area, visit www.listeningmothers.org.
3. Parenting Classes: These classes are generally taken to help you gain new insight into your child. Discipline is a popular topic for parents although you can find many others. Check your local parenting publication or websites (these are fantastic resources if you haven’t found them already) or visit www.positivediscipline.com and www.activeparenting.com for workshops in your area. Be sure to reach out and get to know the other participants in the class.
4. Classes with your Child: You get to be a kid again when you take music, art, gymnastics, and sports classes with your little one. Find classes that your child is interested in. Even newborn babies can benefit from the rhythm, dancing, and songs that are part of music classes. For more ideas, visit www.kindermusik.com, www.littlegym.com, and www.abrakadoodle.com. Again, take advantage of the potential friendships that can be formed with the other parents in the class. Get to know your classmates!
5. Co-op Preschool: Cooperative education allows parents to assist with the teaching, set-up, cleaning, fundraising, and management of the school. Each program varies so you need to look into the specifics of the schools in your area. But, you can plan on getting to know the other parents in the school very well and also spending rewarding time with your child.
6. Online Opportunities: Many stay-at-home moms are turning to the Internet to form in-person connections with other moms. Look for parenting/playdate groups in your neighborhood. For groups in your area, visit www.meetup.com.

Moms, moms, everywhere!
In addition to building a network of moms who are similar to you, you can also seek out other moms to create friendships with – new moms who will appreciate your guidance, experienced moms who can share their knowledge. Here are some suggestions on how to build these connections:
1. Join Mom Groups: There are tons of them. Some are purely social, others offer educational or volunteer components. You bring your kids with you to some while others are “no child” zones. Whichever suits your needs is the best group for you. Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) www.mops.org and International Moms Club www.momsclub.org are just two of these groups.
2. Religious Centers: Many places of worship offer mother and women’s groups. See if your church or synagogue has a program that works for your needs.
3. Gym: Ah, the gym. A place I rarely visited prior to having a baby. But, the lure of a baby break and a wonderful childcare program made me a regular at our local YMCA (and turned me into a runner!). Find a gym with a great childcare and sign up for classes. You’ll notice there are lots of moms there during the day. Get to know them.

People, People Who Need People
Breakout of your regular routine and find ways to connect with other people. Because being a stay-at-home mom can become confining, it’s important to try new things and meet people who don’t share all the components of your life. Sign up for classes at your local community college, volunteer at a nonprofit organization, or join an online hobby group. Reach out to people around you, and don’t forget that you may have friends in your backyard. Get to know your neighbors!
Maintain Friendships: As a Girl Scout, I learned to “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver; the other gold.” That is so true. You have a history with your old friends. Try not to let the changes in your life interfere with your friendships.

That’s easier said than done, though. Maintaining friendships through life changes can be difficult. As a stay-at-home mom, you’ve added a child to your life and given up working. Those are big changes. There may have been a wedge already between you and your single friends when you got married (or entered into a relationship). Sleepless nights make it hard to stay in touch, and who has time for girlfriend get-togethers anymore?

Make the effort, and it will pay off. The years you are consumed with a young child will seem like a blip when you look back on your life. It’s worth investing time in your old friends now. Try some of these tips for staying in touch:
1. Email: Take advantage of a few minutes to send a note to a friend. Catch them up with how you’re doing and ask what they’ve been up to. Email allows you to stay in touch without having to make the time commitment of a phone call.
2. Call Times: Use opportunities your kids give you to call your friends – naps, drives, nursing. Use those moments when they’re offered.
3. Girlfriend Dates: Keep a regular girlfriend date as often as you can. Whether it’s with one girlfriend, the same group of friends, or a different friend each month, a regular girlfriend date on your calendar helps you make those friends a priority.
You may have chosen to give up (or put on hold) your career so you can raise your children, but you always need friends. These relationships help you survive motherhood and also show your children the value of having people in their lives. Your friendships are the self-care you need to be a great mom.

Hey, I wrote this piece and submitted it to become an About.com Guide for their Stay-at-Home mom category - but it wasn't accepted! I thought it was still worthwhile and wanted SOMEONE to read it. So, that's why this entry has a different voice than most of my blogs. Hope it wasn't too jarring!

Spread Around the Good Stuff

2009-08-28T21:20:00.000-07:00

My grandfather says, "Smile awhile. And after awhile, another will smile. And, soon, there will be miles and miles of smiles."

It may seem trite, but what a message when you think about it.

What are you spreading around?

I have a gift for bitching and moaning about my life. So lately, I'm trying to focus on spreading the good stuff rather than complaining so much.

It's amazing how a smile or small good deed can have an enormously positive impact on someone's day. Whereas people who are constantly unloading their negative circumstances on you - well they're real downers.

I'm not the only person thinking this way. There are some really great movements out there. Check these out:
- At www.helpothers.org, you can order free smile cards. Spread a smile, give a card, and keep the movement going. 450,000 cards have been printed!
- Find 101 ways to spread smiles at Smiley Buzz.
- Spread Random Acts of Kindness by visiting the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation.

When I was a kid, I used to believe that if I blew enough bubbles, there would be peace in the world. I sort of thought that if someone was looking at a bubble, they simply couldn't be angry. If everyone looked at bubbles at the same moment - there you go.

I've lost that youthful positivity, and I miss it. I'm not trying to be Pollyanna here, but I really am going to make an effort.

Of course, there is something to be said for taking a horrendous situation, making a joke of it, and spreading the laughter. That's probably how I've been spreading my smiles lately.

Positivity may not make for interesting blog postings, though. Stay tuned.

Writers Who Let Us Into Their World

2009-08-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

Many years ago, I volunteered for a group that gave an award to a band from the Seattle area. I was thrilled to be involved because this band was one of my favorites.

I summoned my courage, went through the receiving line at the end of the program to meet the female rockers, and said, "I love your music. I know the words to all of your songs!"

The famous woman replied, "Wow, you have a lot of time on your hands!"

Needless to say, I was devastated. I have so much respect for people who CREATE. Do you know what I mean?

I think I was like Leigh in Beverly Cleary's "Dear Mr. Henshaw," wanting desperately for this person whose work I respected to be kind to me (and perhaps suggest I write daily in a diary - if you've read the book!).

So, I vowed to never comment to someone "famous" again.

Until I read Ayelet Waldman's essay "Truly, Madly, Guiltily".

It was the Spring of 2005 when I stumbled across Ayelet's essay on the New York Times website. Everyone I knew who had children were so focused on their kids that they seemed to forget their own passions. It didn't matter what those passions were - their faith, music, a spouse, career, volunteering. It seemed to me that motherhood had become so all-consuming that you couldn't do that and anything else. I'm pretty obsessive about things. If you were SUPPOSED to be this consumed as a parent, I was going to be in big trouble.

So, as a married-without-children 29 year old, I had become terrified of having kids.

Until I read Ayelet's article and learned that there was someone out there who was able to put this motherhood thing into perspective. Still love her kids and be a great mother - but put it into perspective.

It got me thinking, and I was grateful to Ayelet for that. Then, I saw her blasted by smug stay-at-home mothers on Oprah (I am now practically a stay-at-home mom, but I am NOT smug. Each day, I question my sanity for staying home and if I'm ruining my children's lives by being around them so much.). So, I tracked down her email address (I can't remember how) and sent her a note - breaking my vow to never contact a "famous" person again.

She wrote me back! She was gracious - and said she appreciated my email. I can't tell you how special that response was to me. Seriously.

Since then, I've written to Ayelet several times and have always heard back from her. She's never made me feel like a freak (or a groupie). She's written two books that I adore - "Love and Other Impossible Pursuits" and "Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace."

She is my version of a Rock Star. I'm grateful that she understands some of her readers' needs to connect with her. It's because her words "spoke" to them.

Recently, I gave in to the hoopla surrounding the "Twilight" series and devoured all four books by Stephenie Meyer in under a week. I enjoyed the story and character development so much. These books were not what I usually am drawn to. I think the first love/impossible love story is what got me - and who isn't intrigued by the ultimate bad boy who is gorgeous, loving, and thoughtful all rolled into one person/vampire?

Anyway, a friend shared that Stephenie Meyer had posted a manuscript called "Midnight Sun," which is the story of "Twilight" from the male vampire's perspective. Her website states that she did this because the story had been leaked without her permission so she went ahead and shared it with her readers.

I was intrigued and enjoyed reading the additional story to complement the series. Then, I found on Stephenie's website playlists of songs to go with the books, outtakes and additional chapters, answers to questions (like specific details of conversations that were only alluded to in the book). It was a door to the world that Stephenie had created and so interesting as a reader.

I haven't contacted Stephenie Meyer, but feel like all of these experiences are interwoven somehow. These are my "Dear Mr. Henshaw" moments.

It's lovely when people who create for public consumption understand that their audience enters the world they've made. And, sometimes we're excited about it! Perhaps, though, I do (as the Seattle rocker said) have too much time on my hands!

Deployment Sucks

2009-08-22T22:40:00.000-07:00

I try to share the funny moments of my life as a woman, mom, and wife on this blog. But, it's impossible to share myself without telling you that my husband is deployed to the Middle East. Having my love gone just bites. I do my best to stay positive and upbeat because wallowing isn't going to help, but I MISS HIM!

So, I'm taking a moment to share some of the reasons that war is lame (from my perspective). These are in no particular order.

1. My daughter will be walking and talking by the time her dad gets home. She was pretty much just a smiling blob when he left.
2. My son is old enough to miss his dad but not old enough to really understand where the hell he went and why.
3. Before you have kids, it's easy to schedule time with friends if the hubby is away. When you have kids, things get more complicated.
4. Since I spend all day with my kids, by the time dinner rolls around, there's not much to say to make dinner conversation.
5. My husband is the grooviest guy I know. I feel really empty without him. Functional, yes. Happy, no.
6. If I hear a scary noise in the middle of the night, that's on me.
7. If I get sick, we're screwed.
8. Maintaining a romantic connection when you're separated is HARD WORK. There are days when I don't have the energy after dealing with the house, the kids, work, etc. I know my husband feels the same sometimes. But, we deal. Thankfully.
9. I have gone a full day without speaking to anyone besides my kids. Granted, it doesn't happen often, but it's weird when it does.
10. Our family is missing someone who is really important to us. There is a giant absence around here.

Life Soundtrack

2009-08-13T21:53:00.000-07:00

Does everyone hear songs in their head that turn routine moments into a music video?

I ask my best friend questions like this all the time, and she usually responds, "Livvy, when you're wondering if everyone else is doing something, the answer is usually no. For everyone else the answer is usually yes."

Of course, this makes me feel incredibly bizarre.

But, here's how the soundtrack thing plays out: I'm getting ready to go out somewhere special for the evening. Suddenly, I hear Eric Clapton singing, "It's late in the evening, she's wondering what clothes to wear. She puts on her makeup..." I woosh around to see if there is music playing - or the other unlikely possibility that Eric Clapton is in my house.

But, I am alone. The house is silent. Once again, it's just the voices in my head.

I also hear John Cougar Mellencamp's (Dude, your name has a Cougar in it. Quit trying to be too cool for school and just accept who you are.) "Little Pink Houses" anytime I drive back roads and see random barns and shit. I'm not really a fan of either of those guys.

Hearing these songs is completely beyond my control. There's some soundtrack engineer who lives in my head, making these selections as the situation arises.

He or she has very eclectic tastes. As I crossed the finish line of my first 5K race, I heard JayZ and Beyonce singing "Crazy in Love". Even though my IPod was playing something else.

Once after telling Andy M. (hi, Andy!) that I could no longer be his girlfriend (we were riding the bus home from 6th grade), I had to fight an intense compulsion to sing "What Have You Done for Me Lately" by Janet Jackson because it was playing so loud in my head.

I resisted for two reasons: I suck at singing, and I didn't want Andy to be happy that I was dumping him after "going out" for a week.

Anyway, why am I bothering to write a blog about this? I used to watch Ally McBeal occasionally (I was frequently told that I reminded people of the Ally character. I felt they meant it as a negative.). Ally's therapist told her that she needed a theme song. I totally get that.

As I mentioned, my soundtrack is out of my hands.

But, I have complete control over my theme song...Suggestions?

Voices in My Head

2009-08-12T21:50:00.000-07:00

Is it the writer in me? The crazy in me? Something else?

Or does everyone else have a constant stream of chatter running through their head at all times?

Actually, from my brief survey of others I know, it seems this is NOT the case. The dialouge in my head appears to be less common than I hoped.

Seriously, I rarely have even a moment of silence. My thoughts are constantly racing. Running through my to-do list, figuring out a better come back to the rude person I ran into, replaying conversations.

It's exhausting.

Some people think I'm a bit of a chatter box, but if they only knew how much I DON'T say out loud that I am really thinking, they would appreciate how little I share. When you look at it from that point of view, I'm incredibly self contained!

In addition to the constant stream of chatter (it's all in my own voice which I think means I don't qualify for "hearing voices" status), I concurrently run a steady stream of manuscript writing in my head.

Quite a few times a day, as I'm going about my routine and listening to myself talk in my head (often while carrying on a conversation with someone else), I have to deal with the writer in me composing another blog entry or writing an additional chapter.

Sometimes, after my husband finishes a thought, I think, "he said."

Then, I edit it to something more descriptive, "he stammered."

"He concluded."

Life Changing Books

2009-08-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

I was wondering today about the books I've read that have changed my life. Sometimes, I'll stumble across a book that is so powerfully compelling, that I fervently hope the story won't come to an end. I want the characters to remain alive for me. When the ending does come, I sink into an almost depression, knowing that these "people" don't actually exist outside the author's imagination so they have in essence died a sudden death as I read "The End."

Probably the first time this happened for me was when I read Anne of Green Gables - the entire series. The author, Lucy Maud Montgomery, continued the story through Anne's daughter Rilla, but her perspective never held the same magic for me. I read the pages anxiously wondering where the hell Anne and Gilbert were.

It just happened again for me with the Twilight series. The story itself was ok, but Stephenie Meyer did an amazing job of developing the characters. You feel like you really know these people (and vampires), and it was hard for me to let them go when it ended.

I know it will be awhile before I find another book that pulls me in the same way. And, to be perfectly honest, not having a "suck me in" book at the moment probably makes me a better mom to my two kids!

She Doesn't Matter, She's Just a Mom

2009-08-10T23:07:00.001-07:00

I went to see a movie alone the other day. One of my favorite things to do when I have a break from my "real" life. In the effort to get out the door, I didn't have time to do myself up. And, why bother? I was going alone and didn't expect to see anyone I knew. I had showered, which on some days feels like a major accomplishment.

Now, I have to back up a minute and explain myself pre-children. I used to really enjoy taking care of myself. I wasn't obsessed, but I got regular haircuts and manicures. I didn't wear "clothes" - but "outfits." I rarely left the house without a bit of makeup on and my hair done. I wasn't a showstopper, but I do think when people saw me that they probably thought I was fairly attractive. Men talked to me a lot. Which isn't necessarily a measurement of attractiveness, but it comes into play here in a minute.

So, there was a group of young men (18 - 20 year range) in line ahead of me. I wasn't trying to get their attention, but as I waited, it occurred to me that I was completely and totally invisible to these guys.

When the hell did that happen?

It's not my daily goal to make young guys notice me. I was sharing this with a girlfriend and told her that I had morphed from a "woman" to a "mom." She said, "They would have noticed you if they needed a tissue."

So true.

Perfect Parents vs. The Rest of Us

2009-06-24T23:18:00.000-07:00

I know a few well-adjusted parents. I love spending time with them and bathing in their normality. I come away more calm and somehow boosted in my belief that my parenting style isn't doing TOO much damage to my children. Part of their cool parenting style is to pick up all the parents around them - in a very nonchalant way. Do you know these people? You should.

There are two other types of parents - and unfortunately, most of us fall into one of these categories: Perfect Parents and Insecure Parents.

I am an Insecure Parent. I question myself at every turn and fervently hope I am not doing anything that will render my kids lifeless on some therapist's couch. When my son didn't know the sounds animals make at the right age, I realized it was because I didn't walk around moo-ing and oink-ing. Two years later, I still walk around muttering animal noises just to be sure we don't take a step backward.

On the opposite end of my paranoid frame of mind is the Perfect Parent. This person believes they are doing everything right. They cling to their knowledge that they are parenting in such an amazingly enlightened way that they want to share the seeds of their passion with everyone around them.

Usually, this sharing is done in passive aggressive parent speak phrased as a question/exclamation. For example:

"Your son still sleeps in bed with you?!"
"You haven't given your daughter Cheerios yet?!"
"You haven't selected a preschool for your newborn yet?!"
"You gave her a bottle - of formula?!"

The question/exclamations always repeat something you just said. So three seconds prior to the question/exclamation referenced above, I just said the following:

"My son still sleeps in bed with me."
"I don't give my daughter Cheerios yet."
"We aren't really worried about picking a preschool at this time."
"She gets bottles of formula sometimes."

I'm sure that the Perfect Parents are really hiding a mountain of insecurities, which is why they are squashing the rest of us - in an attempt to make themselves feel better. But, hey, it still stings.

So, let's all band together and realize that those of us who are feeling insecure aren't alone, no one is perfect, and this parenting deal has no right answers. Can we all just start telling the truth for once?

The Facebook Time Suck

2009-04-23T15:44:00.000-07:00

I can't decide whether I love or hate Facebook.

It's great to get a daily status report on so many of my friends without having to pick up the phone. I find this especially helpful since calling people seems to be a skill I have lost after having kids.

The daily quizes where I hear that my friend's name means "Sunshine!" and their favorite season is "Winter!" are irritating to me, though.

What I find most hilarious are the various categories of profile pictures:
1. The old photo, which shows the person in a younger/thinner/more hair on head moment in life. This category also applies to the grainy photo which seems to show the above.
2. The photo of the guy with a random hot chick, which shows that he is so cool that he can attract random hot chicks.
3. The photo of the girl with her girlfriends, which shows that she is cool enough to have friends but makes it hard to tell her from the others.
4. The photo of the woman/man with their baby, which shows that despite all the time this person is spending on Facebook, they still love their kids.
5. The photo of the smiling baby, which accomplishes the above without having to reveal how bad the parent looks.
6. The cartoon character or pet photo, which shows the user has personality but isn't happy with how they look at this moment in their life.

I am happy to admit that I fall into the first profile picture category. My photo is a wedding picture from SEVEN YEARS AGO because my pre and post pregnancy self just doesn't do me justice.

Well, I guess I should go login and see who else is online.

Moms Don't Get Sick Leave

2009-04-20T22:46:00.000-07:00

Thursday night I woke up feeling like my stomach was on fire and bleeding - so it was no surprise that Friday morning brought the wrath of a vicious stomach virus upon me. It started at 6 am - when my son came in the room to wake me up. The baby woke up shortly thereafter.

I juggled both of them for three hours in between visits to the bathroom.

Carson's preschool teacher generously offered to pick him up and take him to the parent/child preschool we attend for two hours Friday morning. So, from 9:15 to 12:45, it was just me and the baby.

From 12:45 to 3:30, I vomited while I listened to the preschool teacher (who is also Carson's nanny), babysit both of my children. During this time, the baby SCREAMED almost nonstop.

Between 6:30 a.m. and 3:30 p.m., I think I dialed my husband's cell phone number 100 times, begging him to come home early. He finally arrived at 3:30.

That night, the baby wasn't being responsive to my husband and kept crying when he tried to put her down. Carson (the 2 year old) wouldn't go to bed for him either. I ended up getting both kids to bed - and waking up three times in the night to deal with the baby.

My husband came home with the same stomach virus...He's been in our room all night. I don't think I'm going to see him until morning (even though we still have a baby, and now Carson has a cold). I'm sleeping downstairs with the baby monitors so he can get some uninterrupted rest.

I'm just saying...

Washington Mom Vehicle Legislation

2009-04-16T14:59:00.000-07:00

RCW MOM911

Be it hereby enacted that all mothers (fathers and caregivers, too) in a vehicle with a sleeping child (as long as the child is correctly fastened in an approved child restraint system) are authorized to run a red light, hit street signage, drive on the sidewalk, and otherwise break any laws necessary to keep the car moving so the child does not wake up.

This law is being passed to give mothers (fathers and caregivers, too) a brief respite from the screaming, crying, and demanding that their job entails - and will make the world a better place.

Garbage Man = Super Hero

2009-04-15T10:08:00.000-07:00

We have a superhero for a garbage man. His name is Eugene, and he gets off the truck and talks to my two-year old every week. He knows Carson's name and that we head to music class after we see him.

Most weeks, Carson brings out his toy garbage truck to show Eugene. Eugene always oohs and aahs over it. Here's Carson's garbage truck.

I considered inviting Eugene to my daughter's baptism but figured he would find that strange. Although, in the business of motherhood, sometimes I talk to Eugene more each week than I do my best girlfriends.

Last week, Eugene was on vacation, and Carson and I both missed seeing him. The interim garbage dude didn't wave and spit in front of our house as we watched the truck go by. I guess this is a small disappointment in the big scheme of things.

My husband jokes that I have a crush on Eugene. I don't, but there is something awfully endearing about a man who takes the time to be a superhero to a kid. Hey, I can only encourage Carson to idolize someone who is so incredibly kind and hardworking.

Check out the garbageman paraphenilia we have at our house:

But, despite our garbage man super hero following, the number one super hero around here is DAD!

My Crowning

2009-04-14T20:28:00.000-07:00

I have a crown in my mouth (although I like to think I deserve one on my head). The crown started cracking and falling out in large chunks so I had to coordinate a trip to the dentist. The few people I have on my babysitter list weren't available at any of the times the dentist was - so this meant my husband and I had to create an elaborate scheme for how I could get to the dentist. The plan entailed him taking our two-year old son and four-month old daughter to preschool (it's a parent participation preschool) in his flight suit. I would rush to meet them there so he wouldn't be too late for work.

As the dentist went through two diamond studded drill bits to take the old pieces of the crown out of my numbed mouth, he kept asking, "Are you okay? This will be over soon."

An hour in a dentist's chair being drilled on is far more relaxing than my normal routine. I told him to take his time. This was practically a massage.

Ah, the life of a mom.

Angels Everywhere

2009-03-05T12:29:00.000-08:00

I believe that it's important to take an extra few minutes to connect with other people. You never know what your small kindness might do to change someone's life.

I've had so many angels in my midst. People who probably don't even realize that their small gesture, word, or smile, had a big impact on me.

One example happened when I was in my early 20s and traveling on business to New York. My parents were living in the Washington D.C. area, and I thought I would rent a car and drive from New York to visit them in D.C. (I hate flying so wanted to avoid another plane trip at all costs!).

Once I got to New York, I realized that the magnetic strip on my debit card didn't work - so I couldn't get cash at any ATM machines. I hadn't traveled much and had no cash or other credit cards with me. I had no idea what a big deal this was going to become.

I got my rental car near the airport and headed toward D.C. - not knowing that I was traveling on TOLL ROADS (we don't have many of those in the Seattle area)!

The first toll I came to, I backed traffic up as I explained to the toll booth operator that I had no cash. She finally let me go, probably just to relieve the congestion, but warned me there would be tolls all along the way to D.C.

So, I exited as soon as possible and planned to get cash back from a purchase. I was in a very rough neighborhood and kept getting in and out of my rental car, trying to get a clerk at a store to manually enter my debit card number since the magnetic stripe wouldn't swipe. No one would oblige.

As I was rejected for the fourth time by a gift shop clerk, I headed back out to my rental car, not sure what to do. I was tired from traveling across country and felt scared and stupid. My eyes welled up with tears.

There was a knock on my car window, and a handsome, lanky boy (maybe 19 years old) asked if I needed help. I had noticed him in the store. He and the girl he was with hadn't really been shopping, just making out in the aisles. He seemed like a hoodlum, and she was straight out of "Working Girl" with big hair, tight jeans, and a lot of eyeliner.

They both gave me sweet smiles, and I relaxed - a bit.

I explained the situation, and the boy told me to follow him in his car to his dad's gas station. He would manually enter my debit card for me and give me back the cash. As I drove behind him, I kept thinking of all that could go wrong with this scenario - he could lead me to a desserted area and kill me, enter a higher number on the credit card transaction and then steal the cash, or something else!

I guess he could tell how stressed out I was just by watching me in his rear view mirror because he jumped out of his car at a stop sign, ran back to my car, and told me that everything was going to be okay.

At his dad's gas station, this kid did everything he said he would - with a receipt for the cash and a complimentary bottle of water.

I drove away pretty shaken up and never even got his name.

That was about 10 years ago. Not a week goes by that I don't remember that guy and how kind he was. I don't know how his life has turned out, but he sure inspired me to take an extra minute for people. What an angel.

Only Good for Childcare

2009-03-02T16:06:00.000-08:00

My children are the most rewarding thing in my life - and I hope always will be.

But, while I cherish my moments with them, I still question my choice to stay home (or practically stay home since I am devoting such a small amount of time to my company these days).

I know many moms feel an ultimate sense of fulfillment in their stay-at-home status.

Not me.

Why?

Well, I think I've narrowed it down to the feeling that I am "Only Good for Childcare".

Prior to becoming a mom, I wore many hats - I was a "jack (or Olivia) of all trades" in that I was a frequent volunteer laborer in my community, a devoted friend willing to drop anything for a pal, a worker bee who could go 24 hours straight in front of the computer to finish a project by deadline, a fundraiser breaking records for procuring charity donations, and a WOMAN who spent a significant amount of time at the hair salon, shopping, waxing, working out, etc. to maintain my feminine wiles.

My focus these days has certainly shifted. If it doesn't wear diapers, it's not a big priority in my life lately.

That's my choice. I feel like I'm the center of my kids' universes for such a short time, that I want to fully dedicate myself to them.

I'm not stupid. I know I am more than just a child care provider.

And, I'm on a quest to remind myself of that.

Mommy, I Love Lightbulbs

2008-10-21T23:41:00.000-07:00

My son is two years old, and each day brings some new development.

Today, as we started the morning with Mister Rogers, we watched light bulbs coming down an assembly line.

My son looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I love light bulbs."

It was such a pure moment. He's never said "love" in connection with anything other than myself, his dad, or his grandma. So, not only was this a first for him, but it gave me such joy to have been with him to share his "light bulb" moment.

It was a great reminder to me to slow down, enjoy these amazing firsts, and express my own "light bulb" love as often as possible.

Girls Night Out and Poop

2008-10-06T00:04:00.000-07:00

I'm lucky to be a part of a local program that matched me up with eight women who had babies all within six weeks of me. Well, two years later, we are still getting together!

A few nights ago, we had a girls night out. The interesting thing about going out with a group of moms is the inevitable poop discussion...

Of course, I had to share the recent dismay I experienced as my son felt the need to copy our 13 year old dog by pooping in the house. He was so proud of himself! Pride was NOT the emotion I felt as I cleaned up the dog's mess downstairs - only to discover my 2 year-old son had copied the behavior upstairs.

There are times as a mother when counting to ten is a more important skill for yourself than for your kids.

I never thought I'd be one of those mothers who discussed my kid's bodily functions. But, that's what I've become. Thankfully, a few of the other ladies had their own poop stories to share!

The Black Hole of Motherhood

2008-09-25T23:43:00.000-07:00

There are times when motherhood is so all-consuming that I feel as if I have fallen into a Black Hole.

I'm out of touch with my friends.

I go days without reading the newspaper or watching the news (which is really weird for me).

My to-do list continues to stretch to eternity - with no hope of ever getting caught up.

Recently, I've been trying to catch up with my dear friends - many of whom I haven't seen since my 2 year old was baptised (when he was about four months old).

How is this possible?

A wonderful friend who really has her finger on the pulse of motherhood told me not to worry and that "this will get worse before it gets better."

I try not to make judgments about whether it's better to stay home with your kids or work - or which is harder. I think there is no right or wrong and that the dynamics are constantly shifting even for one family.

BUT - I will say that as a stay-at-home mom, I have lost a huge part of myself to motherhood. My world revolves around Kindermusik, Little Gym, Co-o Preschool, and keeping my son entertained, calm, and educated when we're not at those activities.

That wears me out. When he takes a nap, instead of being incredibly productive and doing something like writing a book or cleaning my house, I sit and try to think calming thoughts.

Lately, I start each day trying to figure out how to make my son get into his car seat without screaming so that passersby don't think I am kidnapping him.

Anway, the Black Hole of Motherhood is where this blog writer has been. Often, I have wanted to get back in the blogging saddle, but I have a weird hangup about starting (and restarting) things on a Monday. Anytime I had more than five minutes to myself, it wasn't Monday.

You'll notice that this is Thursday (six minutes until Friday! - midnight is a great time to get things done when you're a mom!). I had to finally set my Monday hangup aside so I could jump out of the Black Hole.

I'll keep you posted if I find some of the "O" that's been missing from "Olivia" - which has been spelled "M-O-M-M-Y" for the past several months.

Side note: When I ask my son what his daddy's name is, he responds with a very loud, "R.D.!" When I ask what mommy's name is, he looks at me perplexed for a moment before saying, "Carson's Mommy?" I believe this says a lot.

I Think My Neighbor Has A Small Penis

2008-01-15T21:01:00.000-08:00

There are two things you should know about me:

1. I am desperately in need of some rest because my son doesn't like to sleep.
2. I believe men should either drive a truck or a fuel-efficient car. (It's like the sexiness of Matthew McConaughey versus Leo DiCaprio. How could you ever choose?)

So, now that you know these two facts, let me tell you what I hear from inside my house (with the windows closed!) at least every other day and/or night...

My neighbor dude revving the engine of his shiny red car! I have no idea what kind of a car it is, but it's something sporty (or intending to be sporty).

He washes this car every couple of days on our street, which is SO bad for the environment and really offensive to the men I mentioned above who drive the fuel-efficient cars. This is totally undoing their sexy efforts to protect the planet! I am apologizing for him to you, Leo.

After washing the car, he fondles it for a bizarre length of time with a special towel. Then, he lifts the hood, sits in the driver's seat, and revs the engine. He has some kind of special thing (I'm guessing) on the motor to make it sound super loud even when he's NOT revving it.

So, our house shakes while we hear "VVVVRRRRRROOOOOOMMMMM". A few minutes go by, and (just when I've decided he is done torturing the neighborhood) we hear it again, "VVVRRRRRROOOOOOMMMMM!"

Inevitably, this is during my son's nap time or when he is falling asleep for the night. It wakes him and/or me up.

So, I go to peer out the window at the jackass.

What's intriguing to me is that he frequently follows up his revs by dashing inside his house, while leaving the motor running.

He reappears a moment later to start the process again.

I am convinced he thinks that revving the engine makes his "unit" grow. And, he keeps running inside to measure it.

At least he's not exposing himself in his driver's seat, apparently his favorite place on earth.

I want to tell him the fairytale about a body part growing beyond its usual size is "Pinocchio" - and it involved lies and a nose. Not a motor and a penis.

But, my best friend is convinced nothing good will come from that.

I have never seen this man with anyone besides his car. Perhaps if he met someone he'd have less time to rev his engine - and could rev hers (or his??) instead.

Any takers?

Click Here to Contribute

2008-01-13T21:09:00.000-08:00

I made the mistake of donating to a presidential campaign. It was a small amount, but I wanted to do my part to get this candidate elected.

Since that day, about four months ago, I have been inundated with phone calls and emails asking me to give more.

Is anyone else experiencing this?

Are all of the candidates raising money this way?

Clearly, repeatedly asking your same donors for more money in the span of a couple of months must be effective (They don't really have a lot of time. I get that.)

But, it's so offensive. What a turn off.

I want to support my candidate. Really, I do. I'm more inclined to support charities at this point rather than campaigns, though.

And, I'm about to change my vote - except I'm assuming this same tactic is being used by everyone else.

Instead, I volunteered my time and actually received a call asking if I would make phone calls reminding people to vote for this candidate. I agreed and was told I would be sent instructions via email with how to make the calls.

That email never came.

But, I did get another asking me to contribute money.

What the hell?!

All of this nonsense hasn't turned me off my candidate. And, no, I'm not naming names here since this would be a stupid reason not to vote for someone.

It's just so irritating. The whole election process is, actually. Well, not the election process - but the way it is covered by the media and what people choose to focus on.

My mother told me about a website that surveys your opinions on issues affecting the election (abortion, taxes, education, etc.) and tells you which candidate you should support. I was intrigued and did some research. I found that there are actually quite a few sites that offer this service. I took three of the surveys - and was told a different person was my top choice each time!

Try it:
http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/Vote2008/page?id=3623346
http://minnesota.publicradio.org/projects/ongoing/select_a_candidate/poll.php?race_id=13
http://www.speakout.com/VoteMatch/senate2006.asp?quiz=Senate

I'm hoping we can all get through the next 11 months as we are bombarded with commercials, phone calls, emails, and door-to-door campaigning. Hang in there, America!

Why I Love My Son - Despite the Fact That He's Trying to Kill Me

2007-12-28T21:33:00.001-08:00

I think my 18-month old son is confused. He must believe that because I buy the expensive milk (out of fear that he will miss some vital nutrients in the cheaper stuff) and the fancy baby-branded yogurt (Logically, I understand that there is no real difference between baby yogurt and regular yogurt. But, what if I'm wrong and deprive him of more vital nutrients?) that my husband and I are rich.

Clearly, he thinks that if he takes both of us out, he will inherit some massive cash.

He's starting with me.

If something happens to me, I hope the police investigate my 18-month old son first. Sleep deprivation is a crime, right. Parental abuse? Constant whining? He'd get life, wouldn't he? Or at least a stiff fine? Perhaps community service?

Anyway, despite my son's obvious intent to do me harm, I continue loving him. Here are today's top five reasons (in no particular order):

1. Within the last 24 hours, he has started to call me "mommy" instead of "mama". I don't have a preference for either name, but his version of "mama" sounds an awful lot like the way he says our dog's nickname, which is "mao mao". So, now that I am "mommy", I can stop being disappointed when I respond to him, only to find him running towards our Chocolate Lab.

2. My son pooped in the toilet yesterday. Completely intentionally. My son's bowel movements and the bowel movements of my friends' children are oddly compelling conversation topics. I was on the phone and sending email about this for most of the day today. It gave me a huge rush. A pride I feel will not be eclipsed until he graduates college (or pees in the toilet).

3. This kid can laugh. Most people describe him as pretty somber and guarded, but I know the real little man. He has a crazy sense of humor and just loves to belly laugh. Even if I'm in a bad mood, that laugh sets me right.

4. He's a great dancer, and he believes I am a rock star. I always wanted to have groupies and be on stage. I am 32 and finally have fulfilled my dream. My child claps and begs "more more" when I finish a performance. Of course, I oblige, but only for payment in sloppy kisses.

5. When he finally does sleep, he has such an angelic face. He spends the day running around trying to destroy everything in his path. When he's asleep, all that craziness settles down and this look of total peace comes over him. The pacifier falls out of his mouth and his mouth forms a perfect tiny "O". He has his dad's gorgeous long eyelashes, and they rest on his chubby little cheeks while he's dreaming. Sometimes, it's hard to set him down. Then, I just remind myself that he'll be awake in two hours so I had better go start the power nap portion of my night.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-26T21:47:00.000-08:00

I was given two Christmas gifts that are worth mentioning here.

Gift Number One:
We had Christmas dinner at the home of dear friends who live an hour and a half away. We got home at about 10:15 p.m., and Carson (my 18-month old son) only slept for about 20 minutes in the car. The rest of the time he alternated between whining and crying. I gave him a quick bath (I don't think he ever even sat down, he just cried.) and didn't even wash his hair.

You might be wondering why I even bothered with the bath. I have a theory that my son doesn't sleep well on the nights that we skip bath. Since he hardly ever sleeps, I'm probably grasping at straws here. Anyway, after bath, he got in a better mood and was in his room, running around naked (This is his favorite activity.).

I dashed into my bathroom to grab the clock. I've been keeping my clock in his room at night so I can tell when the torture of rocking a non-sleeping child has lasted for five hours - or five minutes. Sometimes, I honestly can't tell the difference. The clock was in my bathroom because Christmas morning, for some unknown reason, the alarm went off at 7 am. Oddly enough, this didn't wake him up - even though I dashed in, grabbed the clock, and chucked it into our bathroom. Walking too loudly, clearing one's throat, or flushing a toilet will wake my son. An alarm clock going off doesn't. A topic for another blog...

I come out of the bathroom, and it's dark in the hallway because I've already got those lights off. Carson is standing in the doorway to his room, holding something out to me. I can't tell what it is, but I take it anyway because he is constantly handing things to me so this is not out of the ordinary. However, I immediately realize he has handed me a pile of poop. Instinctively, I yelp and toss the poop across the hall. Where, Melges (our Chocolate Lab) eats it before I can stop her.

Then, I grab Carson to examine his bum. See, I still don't know the origin of the poop that now is residing in Melges' belly. There is poop smeared all over Carson's bottom and the rug in his room which identifies him and not Melges as the pooper (I guess Carson was also the scooper!).

I like to think that my son saw all of these people giving me lovely gifts on Christmas. He thought (not unlike the Little Drummer Boy), "I have no gift to bring."

"Shall I poop for her?"

Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum - Me and My Bum!

Gift Number Two:
After the exhaustion of all the Christmas planning and traveling, the last thing I wanted to do was take out our garbage for the Wednesday morning pickup. In fact, we were sick last week so I did a half-hearted job of taking out the garbage then. It has now really piled up.

I looked on our garbage collection calendar to see if it was one of our twice-monthly recycling pickup days as well (which means even MORE work).

When what to my wondering eyes did appear?

A notice on the calendar that said if your collection day falls on Christmas or the day after (Wednesday) it would be delayed one day.

A reprieve!

So, my second late-night Christmas gift was that I didn't have to take the garbage out.

But, I've got to finish this blog because now garbage day is tomorrow - and it's already 10:15 p.m.!

Wanting Doesn't Make It Happen

2007-12-21T21:05:00.000-08:00

Before I became a mom, I was pretty much able to meet all of my needs. I wanted an education so I got one. I wanted a certain type of career and position so I worked hard and achieved my goals. When I was hungry, I ate. When I was tired, I slept. (I feel a Forrest Gump moment coming so I better move quickly through this train of thought.)

As a parent, wanting something doesn't give me freedom to get it.

Even basic stuff. Like sleep.

Sleep is my most frustrating topic. When people ask the simple question, "How are you?", I give them a rundown of exactly how much sleep my son and I got the previous night.

People who get good chunks of sleep don't quite get this. Nor do they understand the complete inertia you feel when you are going on day six of two-hour rests each night.

Which is why someone once asked me, "Don't you feel like you're not doing enough to take care of your house and husband?" (No, it wasn't my husband who asked this.)

I don't even begrudge the questioner his (Yes, it was a man, a manly man.) total lack of sensitivity. Instead, I just feel happy for him that he is so well-rested that he can't imagine what it's like to parent a sleepless child for 18 months. God bless his unimaginative self and may he continue to guard the sanctity of sleep.

Back on topic, though, I want to sleep. I want my son to sleep. But, he continues to wake up. My husband and I have tried all methods and manners to try to solve this problem. Nothing has really worked. The kid just isn't a great sleeper.

How can I just accept this?

Because neither is his mother. I still have restless nights when I roam my house. I even remember being a kid and needing my mom to sit next to me until I was sound asleep.

But, I still desperately want to sleep. I desperately wanted to sleep for 13 months - and we tried everything to make it happen: treating him for Acid Reflux, Ferber (The Cry it Out method, I even contacted Dr. Ferber himself), Baby Wise, Co-Sleeping, and on and on and on and on.

One day, my son decided to start sleeping through the night. It was a miracle. A gift from God! My son's will. Whatever you want to call it.

It had nothing to do with an action I took. Nothing to do with my will. Nothing to do with my prayers or my wishes or my wanting it hard enough to make it happen.

He just started sleeping through the night.

That lasted for several months, but we're off track again.

And, I'm back to wishing, wanting, praying, (and shaking my fist and swearing at the sky when I am alone) to get more sleep again.

Because I really want some rest.

But, wanting doesn't make it happen.

Can You Pick a Different Kind of Bread?

2007-12-20T21:43:00.000-08:00

I have an 18-month old son whom I spend pretty much every waking moment with.

Recently, I had a break. Not a long break, mind you. No, this was about an hour to live out all my "being away from baby" fantasies.

I wanted a deli sandwich.

Our neighborhood isn't exactly teeming with delis. We have an abundance of bar and grill establishments to quench our thirsts and fill our bellies.

But, about 15 minutes from us, there is a Dutch Deli. It had looked promising so I decided to give it a try (This would give me 30 minutes to order and enjoy my sandwich - I brought a book. I haven't had that long to eat in 18 months!)

When I arrived, they had stopped serving sandwiches three minutes earlier. I'm not kidding.

So, I decided to order a cup of tea and a pastry. My order came to $1.65. I had no cash so I handed over my debit card.

The counter person replied, "We have a ten dollar minimum on credit card sales. Would you like to order some more beverages and pastries?"

I almost started to cry. No. I don't want more beverages! I have given birth which means I need to urinate every 10 minutes. I barely keep myself hydrated as it is in fear of wetting my pants while I'm driving. MY MOUTH IS CONSTANTLY DRY.

No. I don't want additional pastries. I just want the one. If I buy more, I will eat them all - probably at once - when I realize I am depressed because my son has kept me awake all night for the fifth night in a row.

I didn't say any of that. I politely declined her generous offer of additional beverage and pastry sales and left the store.

This transaction took about 3 minutes. So, I still had time to get to the grocery store deli, order my sandwich, eat it in my car, read a page of my book, and head home before my hour was up.

I rushed into the grocery store and waited in line at the deli counter. The woman took my favorite sandwich order - "turkey and Havarti on sourdough with lettuce and mayonnaise". She turned to grab the bread from this big steel cabinet but came right back to the counter.

"Unfortunately, we are all out of sourdough. Can you pick a different kind of bread?"

No, I can't pick a different kind of bread. This is where the bread lives! This is the GROCERY STORE! Go get some sourdough bread from the bread aisle or bakery and make this tired mom's dreams come true!

Again, I didn't say that. I just said, "Thank you."

I drove home (after I walked by the bread aisle just to make sure sourdough bread still existed - and to give myself fodder for this blog and numerous conversations with empathetic girlfriends).

I was six minutes early.

"You have wonderful friends!"

2007-12-19T21:11:00.001-08:00

We recently had our annual Caribbean Christmas party. It was a great night with dear friends. As a new friend was leaving, she gave me a hug and said, "You have wonderful friends!"

I have replayed that comment in my head a thousand times since that night. It's a little bit of sunshine in each of my days.

What's so funny is that the woman who made the comment probably doesn't even remember saying it, or if she does it was just a blip to her. Certainly not something worth replaying in my head!

Which got me to thinking about other things people have said to me which I have treasured. Here are a few:

1. A mutual guy friend introduced me and my husband, not intending for us to become a couple. There was a strong initial chemistry, but both of us felt like it was kind of awkward since we shared this friend. My husband leaned over and said to me, "I wish I knew you in a different way." I knew exactly what he meant and thought it was such a sweet and sincere thing to say. Obviously, it charmed me since we ended up married. But, it's a comment I treasure.

2. My dear friend Jessica once told me, "You make the people in your life feel taken care of and loved, like sunshine. You are a gardener." I think it's the best compliment of my life.

3. In college, a guy I went on a few dates with said, "You have such a beautiful angel face." Granted, I was dressed up as Tinkerbell (this was at a fraternity Halloween party), and he may have been confused, (translate: drunk) but it made me feel gorgeous in that moment. And, no, nothing happened. See, I had told him I was going as Tinkerbell so he surprised me by dressing as Peter Pan. I may have looked like an angel to him, but his green tights threw me for a loop.

There are many more of these comments. I could go on for days, but I won't bore you with my personal anecdotes. Instead, I wanted to focus on how easy it was for these people to brighten my day - actually, my LIFE - with their simple words.

Reflecting on this, I want to make more of an effort to put into words how important people are to me, how much I love them, and how much they offer. Do any of us ever hear this stuff enough?

Do it right now. Send an email, make a call, turn to the cubicle next to yours and just say something complimentary and genuine (that's the important part) to someone. Let's make more of an effort to use our words to build people up.

Here I go...

Don't Have Time?

2007-11-13T22:15:00.000-08:00

Have you noticed how everyone's excuse for not doing something is that they didn't have time.

This irritates me.

We all have 24 hours in each day. Everyone has an enormous amount of crap to accomplish.

Why do people say they "don't have time." Time is all we have.

I know it's just semantics, but why don't people say "This wasn't important enough to be at the top of my list. So, I'll get to it when I have done absolutely everything else, including washed my hair, bathed the dog, and scrubbed the toilet."

Obviously my version takes longer.

Maybe "I didn't have time" is just more convenient.

No, I think this time excuse is handy because we have been trained to lie to each other. God forbid we honestly tell someone the chore they have given us wasn't at the top of our to-do list.

My son celebrated his 1st birthday recently. Well, if you call recently four months ago.

I am just now writing the thank you notes for his gifts. This project has definitely been on my list, and I'm grateful to all of the people who thoughtfully selected and mailed him gifts. My tardiness responding to their gifts doesn't reflect how much I appreciate them. But, my priority over the last four months has been spending time with my son and husband and giving myself just enough rejuvenation time to survive.

Isn't that okay to say?

No, it's more socially acceptable to say that "I didn't have time."

OF COURSE I HAD TIME!

When my kid was napping, there were numerous instances when I stared blankly at the tv - letting my mind wander in a mindless oblivion that didn't involve singing Old MacDonald repeatedly - or writing thank you notes.

I CHOSE NOT TO DO THIS!

And, I'm cool with that.

I just hope everyone else is, too.

I better run now. I don't have time to write more!

Veteran's Day

2007-11-12T23:57:00.000-08:00

I think things should begin on Mondays. Diets. Resolutions. Budgets. Blogs. In fact, each Monday that I miss my opportunity to begin this blog, I figure I better wait to start the next week - so I don't jinx myself by starting something on a Tuesday.

I'll bet most of the people in my life don't know that about me. I honestly don't think I've ever shared that with anyone besides you, dear reader.

Enough of that, the purpose of this post is to discuss Veteran's Day. I know Veteran's Day is actually November 11 (which was yesterday - technically two days ago since the clock just struck midnight), but since we get the day off on Monday, it's relevant to discuss it today.

As I was driving this morning, I heard a song commissioned by my local country radio station (my husband "accidentally" programmed a country station into my presets - a topic for another blog). I think the song was called "Welcome Home". I'll try to post a link. It tells the story of a soldier returning from being overseas and how people are welcoming him home.

I've been a military dependent most of my life - my parents were both in the Air Force, and I've been married five years to a Navy pilot. I joke with my husband that I have served our country longer than he has!

Since the war is losing support from US citizens, Ithink it's important to remind people that most members of the military aren't pro-war.

Service members have so many reasons for joining the military - some do it simply to serve their country, others do it for scholarships, a paycheck, travel opportunities, or to find direction in their lives (often a combination of the above).

What's important to remember, though, is that the people who serve our country are doing an important job to protect our nation. You may not believe that our country is being protected through a war in Iraq, but the men and women who are there fighting were sent there as part of their service and commitment to the United States. Whatever your stand on the war is, remember to thank them for being willing to put their life on the line for you.

Not everyone in the military has to serve in Iraq right now. Members of the U.S. military are serving important functions all over the world. Many are in dangerous situations that aren't considered "newsworthy" by the networks. They are still risking their lives and often spending time away from their families. Remember to thank them for being willing to put their life on the line for you as well.

This Veteran's Day, try to do something for a service member. Families are frequently separated due to assignments and helping out those left behind can be a great relief to someone who has deployed. Offer to mow the grass, invite someone to dinner, or just call and check in (yes, I'm telling you the things my family appreciates). I also know how much letters and care packages are appreciated.