What Being A Mom Looks Like

My husband took a picture of me the other day that I feel really sums up the stage of Motherhood that I’m in right now. The stage when your children are so attached to you that even peeing by yourself is a sin in their eyes. The picture, however unconventional, has quickly become one of my favorites because it’s honest…and I think it’s funny.

So, this is me. Yes, I’m sitting on the toilet. Yes, my shape wear is around my knees. The tan, uncomfortable shape wear that we all wear and wish would magically make it look like we never had kids. The kind we feel does nothing but outside of the lense clouded by self doubt actually does smooth out our bellies. Yes, that is my tacky sweater because it’s Christmas so why the hell not? Yes, those are my twins. Moments before, they’d been actively trying to shove me off of the toilet because apparently I’m no longer allowed to pee. It doesn’t fit into their plan. Yes, five of us were in the bathroom at once. The twins screaming their heads off until I held them and my husband and mother in law trying desperately to get them out of there without a colossal meltdown so I could use the bathroom in peace.

I’m sure someday I’ll miss them wanting to spend time with me. For now I’m trying to stay patient and see the humor in it. For all you Mommies out there who’d love to pee by yourselves, you are not alone. I’m right here with you.

Being A Working Mom

Its cold in my room as the sun slowly creeps in through my window. My babies are sleeping in their crib and snuggly and warm. They climb into each other’s beds now to be close to one another. I have to fight myself to get dressed for work and not just put them in the bed with me and stare at them until they wake up. These are the days when I envy the stay at home Moms and Dads. Where I wish career wasn’t both a necessity and calling for me. Where I feel like a crappy parent because I know that I don’t really want to be a stay at home Mom. The honest truth is that I know in my heart I don’t have what it takes to not have a job outside of my home. I don’t have that level of selflessness or patience and I’m really okay with it most days. I just get a little envious from time to time.

I’ve known for a very long time that career and family would have to coincide for me. I wanted them to. Want them to. I chose a degree in Management over a degree in Art because I knew that, while I had the skills to accomplish both, I’d feel more secure working an office job with children than relying on my art to get us through. (Looking back, I’m glad I did it for so many reasons, the number one being that my art isn’t all that great. Haha!) When I had my Twins that rocked the notion of having a full time job and a family a little for me but it really only takes a day or two of being the only person my twins interact with to remind me that it’s better for all of us this way. One of my dearest colleagues once told me that she realized she was a better mother when she was working. While I have my moments of crappiness, I know that I’m the same way. When I have the opportunity to work and utilize my talents I feel most like myself.

This isn’t to say that it’s not hard leaving my babies at home. I work around children and some days it’s unbearable. The other day I sent my Mom a message thanking her because I finally saw how hard it must have been for her some days as a teacher. Leaving your children to go take care of other people’s children seems like absolute bullshit some days. There are days when I see a Mom snuggle her baby and I just want to go sit at my desk and cry. I make sure to get in extra snuggles when I get home. I’m sure there are parents out there who think it’s terrible that I work instead of staying home.

Today I think I’ll skip the makeup and put down my writing and go pick my babies up and cuddle them instead. It’s a great way to start my day before I head off to work. It’s not an easy life we working Moms have. It’s not an easy life for a stay at home Mom either. The common denominator is that motherhood is freaking hard. It’s full of crazy pressures, annoyances, frustration, and for some reason things are almost always sticky or smelly…or both. At the end of the day though, it’s always worth it.

Stocking Snacks

Okay so Wednesday I promised to share our stocking stuffer “life hack.” Last year it felt like everywhere I turned stores were advertising “stocking stuffers” that ranged from silly junk to super expensive but small items. Buying toys as stocking stuffers seemed like it went against the Four Gifts rule so we opted for a new strategy. It was a gamble but the whole family LOVED it. Our rule is, if you can’t eat it, then it’s not a stocking stuffer. Now we ask Santa to bring everyone their favorite snacks along with a traditional orange and some walnuts.

Each of us have snacks that we love but we limit our purchase/ consumption of for various reasons. Last year The Twins were on purées mostly so they got baby food and those little puffs that melt in your mouth. They would eat their weight in bananas and gummies if we let them so guess what they are getting this year. The Boy is obsessed with Jack Links (he pronounces it Jacka Links) beef jerky so he went wild for the bag he got last Christmas. Crazy Eyes dips everything in ranch dressing or barbecue sauce. Sometimes she gets wild and dips into both. Santa brought her a bottle of each. We even wrote her name on them and told her that she didn’t have to share unless she wanted to. (Shocker, she didn’t haha!) The Hubs got cans of ravioli, instant coffee, and blow pops. (No one said it had to be fancy.) I got Kinder eggs and sesame sticks. Everyone got chips and cookies.

Everyone’s snacks went into their own gallon sized ziplock bag in the snack drawer after Christmas Day and the joy of opening our stockings lasted us a little longer. There was no bickering between the kids over who had what because even if we hadn’t labeled them it was pretty obvious who had what. Also, we didn’t need snacks on our next two grocery trips because Santa had brought special ones already. Everybody wins!

A boy and his jerky, a girl and her sauce.

Anxiety Attacks

Here I am, in the middle of an anxiety attack. It’s not the can’t breathe hyperventilating kind. It’s more subtle. It’s the heart racing, mind racing, it will be a miracle if I can sleep tonight kind. I’ve decided to share it with you even though it’s ugly and I hate it. I promised myself and you all that my blog would be honest. That I’d write my reality and not just pretty things.

I’m working hard to be more mindful when these things happen. To think about what triggers them. Tonight I made the mistake of thinking about money and the girls starting daycare next month. That’s where it started and then it spiraled into a thousand other things that I need to do but didn’t when I got home because I worked an 11 hour day and I was dog tired. Then came the guilt about not taking care of things because I chose to watch two episodes of The Crown instead. A simple thought in the shower turned into full blown anxiety attack in about 20 minutes. Boom! That’s how fast it can work sometimes.

The more exhausted I get the more they happen and the worse they are. My rational brain says get in bed, turn on a sleep meditation, and turn out the lights. The anxiety monster says why the hell try to sleep? You have so much to do. You should just get up and start trying to do all of it right now. Get dressed from your shower and hook the car seats back in the van even though you won’t need them until tomorrow afternoon and it’s freaking cold outside. It says lay out the kids clothes for their Christmas pictures tomorrow afternoon even though I know where everything is already. The stupid little voice says that even if I do all of that it won’t matter because how am I going to pay the bills next month with so much going on this month. Then it tells me that I’m a crappy Mom and Wife. Oh, and a shitty housekeeper for good measure. Some nights it even throws in a you’re fat too. Classy broad that anxiety of mine.

When I was younger and an idiot I’d try to quell the anxiety by going out and drinking or flirting. It worked sometimes but never resolved the issues underlying it all. Big shocker there. In my healthier moments, I’d find a way to be creative. Now it just depends on the timing and the cause. The other night I started obsessively doing chores around the house until The Hubs helped me stop and made me go to bed. Sometimes when it’s really bad I cry. Tonight I’m writing. I guess it’s a good sign that I’m turning to a healthier option?

I know that in the morning I’ll be able to step back and problem solve. Be able to look at the unknowns rationally and be fine. Right now I’m going to finish setting up this post, cry a little, then put on a big giant comfy shirt and get in bed. Then I’ll close my eyes and count my blessings. The way I see it, my options are either keep fighting or give up. So tonight I’ll rest up and go back to fighting tomorrow.

Four Gifts

When you have a big family, Christmas can get a little crazy and gifts can get super overwhelming. For the kids, we try to limit it to four gifts. One thing you want, one thing you need, one thing you wear, one thing you read. Gotta love a catchy rhyme right? (Shout out to my High School American History teacher for sharing the idea on Facebook last year.) We always end up throwing in one or two extra small gifts that I pick up during the year on sale and we let the kids pick out something little for each other.

Limiting gifts has multiple purposes:

1) We don’t go overboard. Good grief it’s so easy to overdo it sometimes! We work hard all year and want to spoil our kids because at the end of the day they’re really great kids. After our first two years Christmas shopping for the kids together we realized that we’d bought them so many things that we couldn’t even remember what all of them were. It was all about quantity, which brings me to number two.

2) Our choices are more intentional when we limit what we buy. The Hubs and I spend a lot of time discussing and searching for the right gifts for our little monsters. We’ve had guitar in mind for Crazy Eyes for so long that The Hubs learned how to play some songs and read music so he could teach her. Each gift is picked especially for them and not just because we got distracted by the pretty packaging on the shelf. Does that mean every gift will blow them away? Nah. You can only get so excited about a new set of sheets (one thing you need) or a new pair of jammies (one thing you wear). Will the sheets or jammies be perfect for that kiddo though? You bet your holly jolly butt they will!

3) Christmas should be about more than gifts. My Husband isn’t a Christian. He celebrates Christmas with us because he appreciates the sentiments behind the holiday and the teachings of Christ regarding how we should treat others. Also, it’s the South and it’s tradition. If his Pagan self can see that Christmas is about spreading love and joy in the world and not getting a pile of presents then I think we all can. We try to focus on the teaching moments of the season and not just the presents for them. For example, we save our change all year and then use the money at Christmas for the kids to do something special for strangers. We usually do Toys for Tots. The kids love picking out gifts for other kids and it helps them to appreciate what they have. We are by no means perfect, but this falls in line with our “don’t raise kids who are assholes” parenting goal.

4) Our house is small and so is our budget. We don’t have room for a ton of toys, especially ones that aren’t being played with. The kids all share rooms and toys and things for four kids take up a lot of space sooooo fast. It’s either limit the gifts or break your neck tripping over a Barbie doll. I choose life. Our budget is often small as well so we’d rather a couple quality gifts instead of several junkier ones. (I’ll share some of the ways we make our money count with stocking stuffers in another post.)

That’s what works for us. It’s sometimes hard to stick with but in the end it makes sense for our family. What does Christmas look like for you? Do you pull out all the stops? Do you have special gift traditions? I’d love to read about it in the comments!

Finger Painting

I got a wild idea Saturday to paint with The Conqueror and The Hun. The idea was made even wilder by the fact that we were also trying to do the 48 hour potty training method where you let them run around without pants all day. If you’re already cleaning up pee on the floor all day then what’s a little paint, right? My floor and my heart still bear the marks from our results. While a good scrub will take the paint off the floor, the effect that painting with my daughters had on me is one that will stick.

I am always and forever a lover of art and paint is my favorite medium. The messier the art is, the more likely I am to enjoy it. I don’t feel like I’ve finished a painting until my skin looks like I’ve stepped into the world of the canvas and taken a little tour. That being said, I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve painted in the last three years. Even so, bought a pack of twelve square canvases on sale the other day. I thought maybe I’d make Christmas gifts. Inspiration struck after I had a moment’s peace and quiet while the girls napped on Saturday. I binge watched The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and relaxed. It left me feeling adventurous and ready to try something fun and new.

The Twins watched me with curiosity as I put a flattened cardboard box on the floor and declared that they were going to paint. As soon as I opened my box of paints they started grabbing at tubes and shouting out colors with squeals of excitement. I laughed and laid everything out for them to see. They mixed everything up and got paint everywhere. Ever since I was a toddler I have insisted that colors and art supplies (specifically anything like paint or crayons) be in perfect rainbow order. My mother loves to tell the story of me crying and dumping out my box of crayons over and over until she realized that when I screamed “not right Momma!” I meant the order the colors were in. Hi, my name is Diana and I am a lifetime rainbow addict. Past Diana would have flipped the hell out about people touching her paints and putting them all out of order. Instead, I laughed and asked which color they wanted first.

“BLUE!” They both shouted, an excellent choice to be sure. They weren’t sure what to do as they saw the bright blue paint squeeze out of the tube. I put their fingers in it and prayed that they wouldn’t immediately try to eat it. They didn’t, but they definitely tried later. Soon enough they were squealing and giggling and screaming for color after color while I laughed and kept the supplies coming. By the time we finished they’d painted 8 canvases and were completely covered in paint. The Conqueror even had some in her hair from a minor tussle with The Hun during their last painting and a blue handprint smudge across her booty cheek from an apparent attempt to scratch it. It was sheer delight. I was in heaven.

I work incredibly hard to be super Mom and make sure that they have all the tools they need to be great humans. I stress the fuck out of myself on a regular basis. I miss out on so many moments because I’m being so damn uptight. I can honestly say that painting with my babies was one of the happiest moments of my life. I let them take the lead and in those minutes I was able to remember why I wanted to be a Mommy in the first place. It didn’t magically make me more patient or a better Mom but I fell more deeply in love with my children for who they are as individuals and not just who they are in relation to me. Painting was my greatest love before life got crazy. Watching them paint let me see my past, present, and future all come together.

After they went to bed I wrote a letter to God thanking him for the opportunity to share in the moment with my children. In it I wrote, “My soul feels radiant and my heart is at peace. I’m still cranky and tired but I saw true beauty today. They were giggling and exploring and creating without fear. I hope I can be like them when I’m scared.” How amazing it must be to tackle newness with excitement and hunger.

Mommas I encourage you to fight against that little voice that’s telling you to make sure your project is perfect and Pinterest worthy. Let go of the rules that you’ve laid down for yourself for just a short time and help your child to explore something that you love deeply. Don’t expect it to be an amazing journey. It may very well end in disaster but try it anyway. You never know what your children can teach you.

Bleh.

I don’t feel like writing right now. I don’t feel like doing anything. Despite working hard on my mental health, I’m on the struggle bus right now. I’ve been feeling like crap for almost two weeks now so I haven’t been exercising. I haven’t been writing because I’m unhappy with how things are going with the kids. Work is work. My marriage is going well right now though so at least I have that. I’m holding on to that. So I don’t feel like writing. What’s there to say? My therapist says to write anyway. She says to fight against the chaos and take time for my sanity. I guess that leaves me here, writing against my will. Haha!

Last week my daughter hit me, pinched me, told me no about a thousand times, fought so hard against getting dressed that she ripped her outfit, and tried to bite me on more than one occasion. They’ve both been a lot to handle. After a certain point you just can’t take the screaming anymore. Or the clinginess. They want to be on me all the time. It feels unending and it makes me feel like a shitty parent when I don’t want them around me.

Weekend before last I had the dumb idea to take all of the kids to the Renaissance Festival. The big kids were amazing. I can’t think of a time when I’ve been more impressed by their behavior and I told them as much. The tiny humans were more deranged monkey than human. At one point I found myself carrying The Conqueror under my arm like a duffle bag as she kicked, screamed, and cried. Wanna know how to get everyone to look at you instead of all of the excitement of a Renaissance Festival? Walk by with a screaming toddler. It’s a blast.

So that’s me. That’s my life right now. Two evil little cuties ruling everything and teaching me patience and strength through their very being. This, my friends, is why God made babies cute.

November 12

Five years ago, November 12 was just another day to me. The most exciting thing about the day was that it was the day before my cousin’s birthday and another day closer to Thanksgiving.

Four years ago, November 12 became so much more special. It’s the day I met my Bonus Kids for the first time. I knew then that I loved them and was excited to one day be their Bonus Mom. I had no idea how much that love would deepen and grow. My life changed that day in some big ways. I saw my boyfriend light up in ways I’d never seen before and show a tenderness that made my heart melt. He was a natural Daddy. For me, there was no going back.

Three years ago today, that boyfriend became my husband and I became Deedee to those beautiful babies. The day is stored in my mind in bits and pieces but anytime I think about it I remember that glowing feeling. I was so happy and nervous and ready. I had no idea where life was going to take me but I knew who’d be there by my side.

Two years ago we spent the day relaxing at home with our big kids running around and the twins kicking around in my belly. Our family was exploding and we were scared and excited. We had no idea how we were going to make it. I baked a pie and enjoyed the day.

This year he surprised me with gifts and a beautiful card. We ate spaghetti and meatballs while our youngest screamed at us and climbed on everything. We planned our weekend date. I grocery shopped online and planned our meals.

Five years ago I thought my life today would be so different. I wasn’t stupid, just so so shortsighted and unimaginative. Four years ago I had a sneak peak at what I was in for. Three years ago my partner and I made it official and took a huge step on our journey. Two years ago we prepared for expansion. This year we took a deep breath, looked around, and snuggled deep into the love.

To My Tiniest Humans…

To My Tiniest Humans,

I love you both. More than the whole wide world. More than I ever knew was possible. Good Lord I need a break tonight though! I keep telling myself that the times when you’re snuggly and sweet make all of this worth it but right now it’s a hard sell.

You are currently screaming your damn fool heads off because we put you in your beds. This is the fourth screaming fit in less than 24 hours in the time that you’ve been with me. I spent over eight hours at work up to my eyeballs in stress and crazy and it was bookended by screaming tantrums from my almost two year olds. My nerves are frayed and my patience is like rice paper.

It’s taken me a while to convince Daddy that when I say “I want to run away.” That I don’t mean forever. I just mean for a couple hours so I can pee by myself and maybe not have anyone wipe their nose on me. (It’s really a good thing that you guys are so cute when you look up at me after you do that nose wipe thing because anyone else would get punched for doing that.) I would never ever want to leave you for good. I could use a vacation though and I’ve learned that it’s healthy and okay to give myself a time out. I’ve learned that it makes me a better Mommy for you.

I hope that you guys can forgive me for the times I haven’t been a good Mommy. I’m learning how to do this just like you’re learning how to human. Hopefully once you get older I’ll have a better handle on all of this. I doubt it. If history is any indicator, you two will continue to surprise me. I pray every day for our continued growth together. I want to be the best that I can be for you and your siblings. I love all of you so much.

You’re quiet now. It felt like eons while you were crying but as I look at the clock I see that it was only minutes. A brief blip on the journey of our day. The days are long but the years are short.

Sleep tight my snuggle bugs. I’ll see you in the morning.

Love,

Mommy

When I’m A Bad Mom

The times when I am a bad Mom,

Are the times when I act exactly the way I tell my children not to.

When I am impatient,

I tell them to hurry up when really, there is no reason to rush.

When I lose my temper,

I yell out of frustration.

When I say ugly things,

I forget that they are only children.

The times when I am a bad Mom,

Are not just the times when I act this way towards my children,

But also when I act this way toward myself.

When I am impatient,

I tell myself to stop being an idiot and figure out a way to be super Mom.

When I lose my temper,

I get mad at myself and let it take away from my time and energy.

When I say ugly things,

My children hear it and think that it’s the norm to tear yourself down in the face of setbacks.

The times when I am a bad Mom,

Are the times when I am leading by the wrong example.

But when I am good,

Oh I try so so hard to be good.

And I’ll keep fighting,

For patience,

For calm,

For kindness,

And I’ll hope that those are the times,

That my children will see,

That I can lead by positive example too.