Wednesday, March 12, 2014

You Can't Score if you Never Swing

Warning: This post may anger some so if you don't want to hear it, don't read.

Lately from a few different things in my life I have encountered this whole "what the world owes me" mentality. Let me start with this: The world owes you nothing. You heard right. The world owes you nothing.

Now I know life is hard. Some people do have life easier than others. Life throws some nasty curve balls. Is it fair? No. Should we be annoyed or angry about it? Sure but that doesn't mean when things knock us down or aren't going the way we want we just quit and look for others to take care of the problem for us. I even think a self pity moment is fine; some things in life are tough.  Some haven't had an easy time in this game called life, but there's also others that for some unknown reason think they are entitled something from life whether it's a grade, more money, a different supposed "better" life.

No, this is not owed to you. School, work, life, it can all have it's hard and difficult moments. But in my playbook quitting and expecting someone else to "fix" it is not an option. Expecting to walk our way around the bases to score and be the hero of the game is not going to happen. Just drop that expectation right now.

Have a little accountability and pride. Rather than whining, blaming others, never pulling out of our self pity moment,  there should only be two choices: work harder or work towards making a change that will solve or ease the problem. Step up!

Malala Yousafzai, a Pakistan student and advocate for girls education, took a bullet in the head to fight for her right to an education. I see people, sometimes very young people, struggle with and sometimes even lose their lives to devastating illnesses after heroic fights. I see people who face unthinkable tragedies and turn it into something beautiful and positive. I see people that rose from poverty for a better life for themselves and their children. I'm sorry but with people like this in our world there is no room for people who think something is owed to them because it's hard or unfair.

I don't care if you think your school work is too hard, your job is too hard, your struggle with financial obligations is too hard, raising  your child is too hard, making life work for you is too hard, the world doesn't owe you any favors. What becomes of our situations, our life, is in our own hands because it comes down to our own perceptions and our own desire to step up to the plate ready to swing at whatever comes.

What I've learned from watching and observing some amazing people is when life pushes you down, stand right back up and push back. So don't sit there and say it's too hard, or you can't do it. Don't stand there in the batter's box with the bat on your shoulder, waiting on the perfect pitch to change the outcome of the game. We'll never change anything with the bat just sitting on our shoulder. We have to be willing to swing the bat at whatever is thrown at us because that's the only way we even have a chance of changing the game.





 

Monday, March 10, 2014

Disappointment over the Gender of your Baby?

As pretty much everyone that reads this knows, we have two daughters. Some of you also know I am one of three girls. My husband also only has a sister. Neither one of us knows much about the relationship of having a brother, but as my oldest will tell you she is convinced she's getting a baby brother one day. My husband also likes to mentions things about the third and last baby being a boy or son. However, as all of us know it's not exactly like we just get what we want in life. At times I feel guilty for even wanting one gender over another.

For myself I had said I wouldn't start to think about a third until I was good with the thought of three girls. Now that all I know is how to raise and mother girls, I'm more than okay with the thought of another girl. However, I think I will feel a bit of disappointment for Nate and even the girls. As much as I love my sisters, I know the three of us always wanted and wondered about having a brother too. With my first pregnancy, I think both of us were leaning towards wanting a girl so with the second we were both hoping for a boy. As the story goes we got another girl. I remember at first feeling a little disappointed, but then I of course felt guilty for being disappointed about the baby's gender. However, I love that Averi got to experience the bond of sisters and of course now we couldn't imagine our life without our little firecracker, Kenzer Grace.

Recently I came across two other blogs where the mother found out her third was her second boy, and even though her first was girl, she wanted a sister for her daughter. She admitted to having a small cry about it and then proceeded to pack up all those adorable little girl clothes to give away. Another blogger I like to read wrote a letter to the son he never had; he's the father of three girls. They both love the children they have very much, as does friends and family that I know that have experienced moments of disappointment when the gender of their baby wasn't the gender they were hoping for.

So many times I feel guilty for even a moment of disappointment or self pity in my life; I have had a very blessed life. So I found it reassuring that even when yes we have so much to be thankful for it's okay to let ourselves experience disappointment when things don't work the way we want them to. This was a nice reminder for anything in life. In fact the more I thought about it I thought we should recognize disappointment when it comes because otherwise just like any other negative emotion if we hide it, it can build towards that even nastier emotion of resentment. No one wants that.

So as we got closer to the possibility of a third, I am a little anxious already about the gender. We always said we'd have three. I didn't know in the beginning that was three tries for a boy, but this possible next one is the last attempt for brother. I know no matter what it is though, we will love it like we all already love each other, and then it'll be like we couldn't imagine our life without him or her.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Won the Lottery with 3-7-11

One of my former coworkers recently just started her own blog, Tiny Army Takeover, in which she wrote this great post about winning the lottery. Hopefully you read what she wrote so you get the idea here that I'm not talking about the green kind of lottery where we're rolling in more money than we know what to do with. I don't really look for that ever to be me because it has never been my life ambition.

My husband and I often differ about our views towards money and it's role in life. He thinks because I stress about it that I am too focused on it, but then on the other hand he never understands why I will say I have no desire to be rich or win the money lottery. First I spend too much of my life focused on it because as the bookkeeper of our household it's a big stressor sometimes to make sure there's enough of that green stuff coming in to keep up with what's going out. But second, money isn't what makes you happy in life. Otherwise why would so many wealthy celebrities take their own life so often.  I wouldn't mind being a little less stressed about it, but 3-7-11 didn't win me the money jackpot. It won me something far more significant than money.

I was reminded again of my lottery numbers when they recently struck again. Back during the 7 month of the year I wrote and submitted a story to Chicken Soup for the Soul and then in the 11 month of the year I was notified it was accepted for publication and now it will officially be published and released during the 3 month of the year. I've always wanted to share our 3-7-11 stories, but some may find it cool and others may just use it as confirmation that I'm a little crazy. If you're the type that has faith, believes in signs from God or someone above, and God's presence in our lives then read on. If you're the skeptical kind then I'll see you next post. I understand.

First of all, do you believe in signs? Signs that God gives us of his existence? I completely believe in them and have several stories I could share but I'm just going to focus on the 3-7-11 story. I see the numbers as a reminder or sign that God is present in our lives or at times their appearance has been reassurance that I'm making the right choices when I'm uncertain.

Let me start the story. First I am born on the 3 day of the month. I don't know growing up if I picked 3 as my athletic number because of that, because I'm one of three girls, or just because I thought it was a cool number. It is also a biblical number. Throughout my athletic years it was my number for the most part. Aside from that and its connection to my birthday though it never really had any other significant presence.

Nate was born on the 11 month in 1977. Same thing again. I don't know what prompted him to choose 7 and 11 as his athletic numbers but he did. 7 is also a biblical number. Again, I don't think until we met those numbers had any other significance to his life.

Then we met and the numbers kept showing up. We meet in the 11-2003 but started dating in March the 3/11 of 2004. We were married 3 years later in 07-07. Our first daughter even though I went into labor the end of February was born on the first day of the 3rd month. Our second daughter even though I spent half a night at the hospital in early labor in October was born 11-3-11. We were on our seventh year in our first house when we were finally able to make the long awaited move to the second and current one.

There are more smaller insignificant events where the numbers show up like they have in the last six months with the Chicken Soup book and even when this past fall when we experienced three random floods in our house in eleven days, which in the end lead to an actual positive. I wish I could remember all the even smaller ways the numbers show up in our lives but that's two examples in just the last six months. There are other smaller ones in the years between when we met and this fall. I've written about it before in my own personal journal. I'll have to dig those out at some point to refresh my memory.

But I find the appearance of these numbers reassurance of the path my life takes, especially when I see that my greatest blessings, my husband and daughters, are connected with my lucky lotto numbers. I don't need the numbers to bring me money. They've brought me something so much greater than money.

Faith. Look for it in the strangest places. You'll find it if you let yourself.




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Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Perfect is Overrated

Who really wants to be the perfect parent? It's so overrated.

Nate is constantly worried that we're one of "those" parents in the eyes of Averi's teachers. I'm not really sure who "those" parents are that he's referring to. I can assure you though it is not the perfect kind. Every Monday when Nate drops her off we're suppose to return her with fresh cot bedding. I'm not really sure how many times he's forgotten this but this week they left me a slightly annoyed voicemail, which must mean that we've done it one too many times. They also have this stuffed animal backpack called Francis that they send home with each kid every few weeks. She brought it home tonight for probably the third or fourth time. Now when we see that thing the two of us go into panic mode. It's another opportunity for our parenting skills to announce themselves as incompetent. There are about half a dozen little odds and ends in that bag and somehow by the end of the night after they've been mixed in with all their other toys they're suppose to make it back in there. The first time she brought it home I don't think we realized she had it until the second or third night.  Other times I think we've sent it back with little things missing. We also let her get herself ready in the morning so a few times we've dropped her off in odd mismatched clothes or like the other day in the middle of these frigid temperatures she was wearing one of her summer dresses with black leggings at least I suppose.

I have been reassured lately though that we are not alone in our imperfect parenting capabilities. A good friend of mine just found out her daughter went to preschool for the day in a t shirt and tights. Tights, no pants.  After sitting around with some good friends this weekend, we all started sharing stories of the times we've "lost" our kids. We haven't really ever truly lost them. For long. They were all found safe and sound somewhere in each of our houses. They were just missing long enough for us to experience that moment of heart stopping panic.

I'm sure some of us out there are maybe striving for perfection or care about it.  But who wants to put that pressure on themselves? I put enough pressure on myself to just keep us all alive and hope my kids aren't too messed up after spending 18 years stuck in the same household as me. Perfect is boring anyway. Boring as the parent, and I can't even imagine how boring it would be for the child. Imperfection is what gives our lives variety and entertainment.

Social media sometimes draws us into this whole idea of perfection but it doesn't exist so just embrace the imperfections.  What imperfect parenting moments have you had lately?


Here's some quality imperfect moments. Some pretty comical ones.


                                          Putting diaper cream on her head and chin like daddy.
                                                           The monster hair baby.
                                                             She did this to herself. I swear.
        Um. Obviously a not paying attention moment but hey at least I didn't find her in the toilet.
                                                      Sissy was just trying to fix my hair again.
                              Look, Mommy, sissy cut my hair and gave me and baby a make over
The sibling torture of taking photos together.

Be sure to check out any recent posts you've missed

I'm Snow Blessed

Our Letter to Our Averiella



 

Monday, March 3, 2014

My Snow Blessing

I know lots of us are done with winter this year, and for the most part I am too. But I have to say all these snow days have been a personal blessing to me. Throughout last school year I was overwhelmed, stressed to the limits, and just really not a happy person all around. Summer was a much needed retreat for me last year but busy like always. The fall found me in much better spirits. Mentally I felt like I had done a 180 even though there were still some stressful moments due to still making the financial transition with the move from the year before. In order to alleviate the financial stress I picked up teaching a late afternoon class at the local community college. I thoroughly enjoyed this experience but again I was busy, busy, busy.

I do enjoy being busy. I always have but somewhere I started to notice what everyone warned me about. The older you get the faster time goes and my babies were growing up in a blink. I wanted to slow down but as much as I talked about desiring to want to work part time to be home more with more girls I was doing the opposite by picking up two late afternoon hours at work in the spring, a little summer work, and  then that extra class in the Fall in order to compensate for the financial decision to move a year earlier than I knew we were financially ready for.

But we made it through the expense of the holidays and into tax return time a year after our move and finally I could cut back. Being able to come home at three again was a blessing in itself. There was time in the evenings again for the girls and I spend time together before the bewitching hours of dinner, baths, and bedtimes. These snow days gave me back even more time though. I got to spend days laying in bed snuggling with the girls late into the morning, playing outside even if it was in the cold and snow, baking too many cookies, watching movies, and just enjoying each other's company without the stress during the hectic rush of the work days.

I'm not going to lie. I was also able to keep up the laundry, my house, and my bookkeeping more easily. I had time for my things like creating photo books or writing. Whether it was time for the stuff for me or around the house this kept me in a lower stressed state of mind and content because mixed in with all those snow days were the days I went into work and looked forward to it because I had spent good quality time at home and was ready for a break from the monotony of the slower pace of being at home. It was the best of both of the worlds I dreamed about.

If I could see it financially working for us and could find the right opportunity I am still convinced part time work would be the perfect fit for me, but in the meantime, I was given a wonderful little taste of that choice.

Snow days allow us a chance to stop and slow time down a bit to just enjoy time with those at home. Even though I am ready for warm weather, spring flowers, longer days, camping, the beach, fires out under the stars, the drive in movie, and all the fun things we enjoy together as a family, I am thankful for this cold, snowy winter because it gave me back something so rare-time.

A Mother Through a Child's Eyes

The 10 Mom Skills I've Mastered

Parenting Requires Deep Breaths