Time for some Mom Confessing

I am a fiercely stubborn person. I have been set on doing things my own way and on my own for according to my parents since shortly after birth. I am independent and have always prided myself on taking care of myself since I started working at sixteen and paying my own way. However, over the last few years I've started to learn I really can't do everything.  What I want and what I get or can do are two different things. This is something that has been very hard for me to learn and admit. Too often I take on too much, sometimes by choice and sometimes because I feel it's necessary in some way, and when I do is when I start making mistakes left and right. Then when I do that I start lashing out at people. After an incident the other day, I admitted to Nate I wasn't throwing one of my ranting fits because I was mad at him, I was mad at myself. I was mad at myself because I hate seeing that I can't take care of it all; I hate having to admit I need help. I am also a bit of a control freak and having to relinquish control is difficult for people like me.

Not only do I have to learn that I can't do everything but that it's okay to cut back. I love to load up my plate, I love to show that I can balance so many things, but as I said before sometimes I'm not so great at balancing so many different things. More isn't always better. I need to learn  when and where to cut back.

 Aside from admitting I can't do everything the way I like to think I can and that I need to learn where to cut back, the other confession is admitting that maybe the medicine that my family has insisted I check into getting has helped with balancing me out and keeping me from getting so down.  I've mentioned before that I was depressed last year and possibly for some time before that. Again, here comes that stubbornness of mine. I stubbornly refused to see a doctor, I stubbornly chose to see being depressed as something I could control. I could choose happy. I was just in a bad mood every other day, but I was not going to be drugged up to control my personality or behavior. However, after crying meltdowns at work, in the shower, and frequent temper flare ups, I finally mentioned something to my doctor, who suggested bloodwork. And the bloodwork showed that I had a hormonal imbalance due to something with my thyroid gland that would have to be adjusted with medication for the rest of my life. That hormonal imbalance was probably what was contributing to my depression and moodiness. This past weekend when meltdown Ang came back I had ran out of my prescription mid week and hadn't had time to refill them yet. Maybe it was just coincidence, but it was enough to convince me maybe there was something medically wrong with me and I should just accept the doctor's prescribed help.



Having to take one little pill a day wasn't going to alter who I was. I like to think as much as I'm a fairly confident person, I'm pretty aware of multiple shortcomings and flaws to my character. I have a handful of my own insecurities that for the most part I hide fairly well, but acknowledging these two things is hard for me maybe because that independent, always able to do everything herself girl has been a part of who I am ever since I've been me. I can't and I don't have to control everything, and I am slowly learning to let that go. But anyone that is an independent controlling personality knows that's a lot easier said than done so wish me luck.

Recent Post

 Mother's Day verse Everyday

The Idea of Happy

Mother's Day vs Everyday

Today's Mother's Day was well nothing special. Or maybe it was special in the way almost every day is. We spent the morning cuddling with the girls like we do every morning when we don't have to rush off somewhere. Nate had flowers delivered from the girls with a hilariously inappropriate card.

Then we got to work like we do most weekends when we've had a crazy busy week. Nate mowed, I finally got to lay the mulch in my flower bed, but then decided to reaarange the girls' playroom to accommodate the barbie house Ave got for her birthday and the chalkboard wall Nate's making them. Kenz has been sleeping in Ave s room for probably six months now and even though I don't plan on officially moving her in there until this summer  I moved all their baby dolls and doll accessories into Kenz's nursery room so they now have a whole room for playing house. If they get their little brother or sister like they keep asking for they'll have to give up their "house" room, but they were pretty excited about it. By the time Nate finished with the yard, I had the house back in order, and laundry in somewhat of an organized pile, it was 3:00. Let me add that at some point during this time Kenz got in trouble for throwing a fit and even though Ave told me, "It s Mother s Day, Mom, I'm not going to give you any attitude," she too had a crying meltdown about not wanting to pick up her mess.

When we asked the girls what they wanted to do for the day Ave suggested a picnic in the backyard. We had burgers off the grill and cheetos on a blanket in the middle of the yard. I then lounged on the blanket watching and laughing as the girls played.

It was really a day like any other, but like most of them it was simple but still special in its own way. Maybe because we spent it together. Maybe because we shared in love and laughter. A former classmate of mine is raising four daughters six and under, and she is always reminding me and anyone else lucky enough to know her to find the blessing not only in the simple and the ordinary, but even in the every day annoyances and hardships that is motherhood. I spent mother s day cleaning up my house but the blessing is I have my children and husband to make it messy. I will still be working on laundry from today tomorrow but again the blessing is I have this wonderful family that keeps the baskets overflowing. I spent my shower with my toddler banging and crying on the door and fought with my oldest about cleaning up but the blessing is I am their mother.

                                                 Every moment is worth it for these two.

Recent Posts
The Idea of Happy (one of my moody moments)

One More Tomorrow (last chance to read a look at our story from the dog's point of view)

 

The Idea of Happy

Some days I'm tired. Some days I m cranky and irritable and probably irrational. Some days I don't feel like doing everything that has to be done for you, you, you, and you. Some days I don't feel like plastering a smile on my face and pretending to be happy with the whole world. Some days I feel like venting, feel like pushing, feel like stomping my feet in frustration.

Most of the time I m happy and feel like shouting it out to the world. Some days I can't stop smiling. Every day I'm grateful because even though life has its hard spots and isn't fair, there are so many things in life to be thankful for. I try for the authentic honest me as much as possible but just like everyone else I wear my masks. Truth be told it s hard to find those that will take you at your highs and lows, that understands that you nor anyone that can put on the mask of perfection is without their flaws, without their moments of downfalls.

There s a misconception out there in cyberspace that everything is always happy. I do believe happiness is a choice but has happiness gotten confused with perfection? Can't we still choose happy and have our down days and make our mistakes? I choose happy but some days are better than others, some days feel successful, while others are full of mistakes and learning curves. No matter which day it is though I know those that truly love me accept me everyday for who I am.

I Said You Could Have Pie for Breakfast?

When I went to pick Averi up from school and picked up her dirty breakfast bowl Nate must have brought in for her, I noticed it was dirty from pie.

I looked at Averi. "Your dad sent you to school with pie for breakfast?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she says with the tone of "what's the matter with that, Mom."

When Nate got home later, I asked him about it. "You let Averi take pie to school for breakfast?"

"She said you told her last night she could have pie for breakfast," he accused.

"Really? And you just believed her," I laughed. My husband had totally had one pulled over on him.

 "Averi doesn't lie," he said. She was rather insistent lately about the idea of her nor us lieing. We have a habit of being sarcastic in which case she always accuses us of lieing and reminds us that is bad.

I headed to Averi's room. "Averi, why did you tell your dad I said you could have pie for breakfast? I never said anything close to that last night. You lied to him."

 "I did not! I never lie!" she sobbed. She ran and threw herself down on her bed in tears.

"You hurt my feelings," she wailed.

"Averi. I said you could have a muffin. Remember I set out a muffin on your sleep stuff?"

"I thought you said pie." "

How do you get pie out of muffin?"

 "I don't know. P...p...p...pie. M...m...m...muffin. They sound close," she says.

"Um," I said, trying to keep a straight face at this point. "No. No, they don't."

 "It did have fruit in it," defended Nate.

 "Yeah, mom, it had raspberries and other berries in it. That's healthy."

 "Well, then I guess we should all finish the pie for breakfast tomorrow."

Recent Post

The Best Day Ever

Heads Carolina? Tails Colorado?

The Best Day EVER!

On an almost daily occurrence Averi says, "This is the best day EVER". Except for yesterday when she kept getting in trouble for her attitude and not wanting to help cleanup. Then it was "This is the WORST day EVER!" Just as I'm glad she has no idea how bad and rough life really can be, I'm glad she finds such enjoyment out of simple every day things.

So today it was the best day ever because I took her and Kenz for a walk down the dirt road behind our house. We usually walk to the house farm that sits back there and then back so it's probably close to two miles. Along the way they walk through the little meadow that we pass picking daffodils and dandelions and jump and splash in every little mud puddle and stream we can find. The whole trip is usually a good hour and half.

But the trip down is always like the best day ever for them and me. It's peaceful, they're running and laughing. It's the simplicity of life at its best. However, the trip back is like the supposed "worst" day ever. It's a what was I thinking moment because they're crying, needy, and demanding. At this point Averi is literally soaked from her toes to her waist. Walking a good mile back in wet pants is never fun. Kenz's little legs will carry her down the hill, but she was pretty adamant about not making it back up the hill. I was now lugging my resistant, whiny toddler the mile home up HILL. Averi was now saying, "Next time I don't want to go!"

"But I thought this was the best day EVER?"

"No. I can't make it. I'm tired. My pants are wet."

"Can't isn't a word in this family. Start moving, girl." This is after an hour before when we started our walk and she told me she would carry Kenz and I told her she couldn't she responded with "Don't tell me what I can't do. I can do it!"

She paused for a minute and then she decided she could too do it so off she went ahead of me in a sprint on the last stretch home. As the house came into sight I finally convinced Kenz she could walk the rest of the way. She got down and started running towards her sister excited for the finish line of home too.  And yards from the house, she face planted on the asphalt



                         
                                                  And that's the end of the story "The Best Day Ever"

 

 

Today's Earlier Post

 

The Fun We Shall Have Past Bedtime