love language

You know how everyone has a love language ... the way in which they most want to be loved and adored by others? Well, I'd have to say that, for me, "words of affirmation" is pretty high up there. So, when I get those "words", especially in writing, I'm going to ponder them, enjoy them, dwell on them (maybe, obsess over them??).

This sign has been hanging for 2 months because I can't bear to take it down. Being reminded each day that my 5 year old appreciates a tidy house, even if just for the minutes it took him to create this masterpiece, still gives me warm fuzzies from the ends of my artificially colored hair to the tips of my un-pedicured toes. Even if his daddy had to help him spell the words and, possibly, wrote some of the note for him .... I'll adore this message for as long as I can stand to keep it taped to the door :)

from the lips of babes

Mommy, Daddy is my favorite but you are almost my favorite. (Warms the heart, doesn't it?)

Mommy, when I'm big like brother then I'll know how to eat broccoli. (Clever :)

Mommy, I don't need to wash my hair tonight because Ms. Cami washed it when she cut my hair last week, remember? (Nice try!)

Mommy, aren't you so happy that I have a bathroom in my bedroom so when my penis wakes me up to pee I don't have far to walk? (It's actually the thing I'm MOST glad for, honey!)

Mommy, I have a deal for you. If you help me clean my room  then I won't do anything to make my sister mad. (Wait, is that even a deal?)

Mooooooommmmmmmyyyyyy!!!! I need help, hurry!! What took you so long, mommy? I need you to look in my mouth to make sure I brushed them all really, really well. Do you see anything in there, mommy? Do ya? Do ya? (Oh mercy, he is OCD about his teeth.)

Mommy, when I grow up and am a daddy one day I am going to have 5 cats. (Wow.)

Mommy, why can't you beat that car?! I want us to win so drive faster and beat that car! (He has a lot to learn about the rules of the road.)

Mommy, do you want to watch me dance like a beeeee-autiful ballerina princess fairy with pretty ballet slippers? (Of COURSE I do, honey!)

Mommy, I didn't need to wash my hands after I went to the bathroom because I didn't touch ANYTHING. (Yeah, right.)

funny question

So, I was just chit-chatting with my 5 year old and he said, "Mommy, I have a funny question for you. Why are you smaller than Daddy AND older than Daddy?" Hmmmm. Where did THAT come from?? I guess if I break it down then, sure, one might expect that the older of two people might also be the bigger of the two. And, I bet that he was also hinting at the common assumption that in a relationship the man is usually older. I totally just changed the subject and didn't even attempt to answer his question except with, "umm, I don't know", but it did leave me thinking .....

Why did I marry a younger man? Am I a cradle robber? A cougar? I used to think I was SO mature but I see now that this "kid" I married is probably the more mature one. And I like that. I like that someone else will keep me on the straight and narrow path, will be my DD, will be diligent about our family's safety, and will stress about our budget. Those are some big jobs and, frankly, I don't want ALL that responsibility ... whew!

So, yes, I am older than my hubby but I still ACT like I'm 30 .... so who's REALLY the older one?! Hehe :)

Let's do the cougar roar!! :)

short shorts

At what age should one stop wearing short shorts? I decided that THIS would be the year for me to stop wearing them. At the ripe old age of 42 I think I've (finally) outgrown dressing like an 18 year old. Stuff is starting to wiggle and jiggle and it's getting harder and harder to keep up that nice tan on my legs (short shorts are not the same without the tan).

A few other things are also happening this year ....

This is the year I'm going to try REALLY hard to be healthy, be active, and eat right. I will exercise regularly (gasp!) and not eat out of boredom. I will take care of my skin and always wear sunscreen. I will dress like an actual person and not like I'm constantly en route to yoga. I will snack on fruit and protein and not donuts. I will stay outside more and play sports with my son. I will not go too long between hair appointments. I will get an occasional mani/pedi. I will try new recipes.

See? It's not really all about the shorts going from a 1" inseam to 2" ..... it's about making more good choices. Of course there will still be bad choices (duh) but perhaps a balance will take shape.

Less of this ....

and more of this ...

flippin' out

"Babe, why didn't you put the kids' shoes on yet?!", "Have you brushed their teeth?!?", "Honey, why aren't they in the car?!?!". I feel like these questions are all perfectly acceptable .... until I'm in the car, all by myself, and my conscience reminds me how mean I was to hubby this morning. I am so embarrassed. I was raised better than this. I have to apologize, like, right now.

Why on earth do I flip out like that? So what if we get to preschool (ha, it is JUST preschool) three minutes late? So what if a kid skips a teeth brushing every now and then? Are these REALLY reasons to lose my mind and take it out on the person who provides for my family? Umm, get a grip, Mara!!

It is so alarming how I can lose my mind over such insignificant stuff. I mean, we all do it, right? (Right?!) Do we really think that life should just flow along perfectly? Well, THAT would be nice but, you know what, I bet I would still find something to complain about. Isn't that just sad?!?!

If I tried really, really hard I bet I could list about a bazillion things that I'm thankful for .... and then all that irritating stuff would seem only mildly annoying, like being served Dunkin' Donuts coffee instead of Starbucks (wait, that is actually REALLY irritating :).

Thankful list ... here goes:
I have a Starbucks in my neighborhood.
I found a book at the library that I actually want to read.
My hair is not completely gray.
My sweet little girl tells me "you're the best" on an almost daily basis.
I don't have to turn another year older until next year.
My hairstylist serves me wine.
....... is that a bazillion yet?

Plus, I get to live with these two guys .... I mean, what could be better ....

what in the wor-ld?

I love lists. I think to myself in list format, sort of like Dave Letterman's top 10. I like to rank favorite sayings and travel spots and crackers. (I know, I need a hobby.) And, since I'm on the subject ....

My Top 10 Crazy Thoughts for the Day:

1. They should make nail polish for kids that is a little more "heavy duty" so that it doesn't flake off so quickly (because painting the toes of a 3 year old is not something that there is time for every day).
2. I see too many girls wearing UGGs when the weather dips below 65 degrees ... I mean, that's practically flip-flop weather!
3. All pants should have elastic waistbands (duh).
4. I do not understand the whole "stay at home dad" thing. Not judging. Just don't really get it.
5. I "know" that frozen yogurt does not have the same nutritional value as regular yogurt but I'll continue to eat it as if it's equally as good for me and deep, deep down I believe it is.
6. I want to live in the show Friday Night Lights and be a cross between beautiful, gorgeous mom Tami Taylor and sweet, cute and super smart Lila (except, as Lila, I would NEVER quit the cheerleading squad!).
7. All home bathrooms in all the world should be spacious enough for a comfy chair because it would be wonderful to sit down while applying all those layers of lotion.
8. Seriously, why am I not renting a house at the beach and/or living at the beach full time?
9. I think that SUP is a-mazing and really WANT to want to do it!
10. I love freckles and wish I had a few on my nose.

legacy letter

At church one morning our pastor challenged us to write a "legacy letter". I think the idea was to contemplate the things that you will place great importance on at the end of your life .... and then live each day focusing on these things. I like this. It made me think. And you know how when you think about something for a really long time your mind just sort of starts to circle around and you end up making a grocery list? Well, that's what happened....I was thinking ...

"when I'm gone I hope people say I lived a good life, a thoughtful life, a somewhat unselfish life and that I was kind when no one was looking and that .... gosh, my roots are SO bad ... I need to call Cami and make an appointment ... right, legacies, maybe I want to be the person that no one talks about after they are gone because that would mean that I didn't cause any trouble or that I gave someone else the spotlight or .... I wonder how much money is left in the beauty budget this month because I really need a mani/pedi .... ugh, focus Mara ... maybe I just hope that my kids turn out to be decent, kind and loving people .... is there wine downstairs? I could have a glass when the kids go to bed ... wait, the dryer just cut off .... I should fold those clothes ...."

Why is it so hard to focus on the important stuff? Hey, and I'm not saying that hair color and fingernails and wine when the kids go to bed is not important! But here's what I think... I think that sometimes we are just going about our days with the chores and errands and it's in those chores and errands that the "important stuff" is happening. It's not a separate act like "ok, NOW I'm going to be generous or thoughtful", it's mixed in with all the mundane tasks that fill a day. It's letting someone go ahead of you in the grocery line because they have 3 items and your buggy has 300. It's listening to someone go on and on (and on and on) at a play date about their crazy morning with the sick baby when you really want to be talking to that other friend about her low-budget trip to Jamaica and how you can get that deal, too. It's waiting a million minutes at a restaurant for your food to come out and then not giving the waitress attitude when she tells you she lost your order. It's showin' the love in all things, every day, in everything that you do ... well, maybe not everything .... :)

the post birthday blues

It's March. That means it's birthday time at my house. Woo hoo!! Since my kids' birthdays are March 1st and March 2nd I pretty much start planning their party in late January. It's a two-fer so it has to be extra special. I get sooooo caught up in the details (ha, imagine that!) down to the very last sprinkle on the very last cupcake. I LOVE doing things at the kids' birthday parties that mean so much to them, like .... buying lots of balloons (they LOVE balloons) just to hear them say, "Mommy, LOOK at all the balloons!" or, mixing Transformers AND Sofia the First party themes just to see them giggle or, setting out big bowls of messy potato chips for little fingers to reach because they are absolute fav-o-rites!

And then, there's a bunch of stuff that I forget about doing like ... taking pictures!! For cryin' out loud I did not take even ONE single picture at the birthday party. Ugh! What kind of loving mommy am I?! (Oh right, I'm a control freak mommy and cannot stand to think that I may have missed a single minute of cake eating or present opening while looking for my camera and making sure the flash was turned on.) Luckily someone picked up my slack and snapped a few shots here and there (thanks Mom!).

Planning a little party for my kiddos is a huge source of joy for me .... it's the best ... we get so excited ... I can't wait for the day to come ..... it's almost here ....aaahhhhhh :)

And then, it's over :(

What makes the days following a birthday so sad? I asked myself this question a few times and my first answer was, "well, I put so much time and energy into making it a special day and it's a little sad to see all that fun in the rearview mirror" .... but that's not the real reason. The REAL reason(s) (if I'm being totally honest) are:

• The end of a birthday marks the end of a whole year and, in this case, my children's 4th and 2nd years are over!! I want them to grow up but, good grief, why do they have to do it so FAST?!
• I'll never again see my son ride a two-wheeled bike for the first time .... :(
• My baby is potty-trained so I'll never again change diapers ... boo hoo. (I added it up and I have changed approximately 8,030 diapers in the last 5 years sooooo what in the world am I upset about?! Oh, I don't know, I guess it's just one more step in the direction of not needing their mama .... so sad. Hey, I didn't say that these were logical reasons.... )
• The kids are so big now and it gets harder and harder to carry them and it will only get worse in the coming year :(
• My son is now experienced at taking trips without me (gasp!).
• They are one year closer to elementary school and then middle school and then high school and then ......
  

Well, you get the point. 

Look, I'm not going to smother my kids and dress them in bonnets and onesies in an effort to keep them young. I'll give them their space to go and grow and live. I'll be a totally normal, responsible and 'independence encouraging' parent .... but that doesn't mean I have to like it.

ouch

Daaaaaang! My back HURTS. Not the kind of hurt that a little rest can cure but the kind of hurt that stays with you day, and night, and every minute in between. I'm serious. This is not just one of my drama episodes that is formulated to get a little extra attention. My back really, really hurts!

FAST FORWARD ...
That was a couple of weeks ago. I feel MUCH better now. Since I am coming out on the other side of this injury I want to share some of the things I learned on my journey to feeling good.

1. Pain sucks. Duh. We all know what a pain in the butt it is to hurt constantly, to be sidelined physically, to ask for help with everyday tasks, but what I was not prepared for was how ...
2. ... pain bleeds blue. When I get "down" mentally and emotionally I say that I'm "blue". Boy oh boy, have I ever been blue these last few weeks. I've been "I hate everything and don't care about anything and I'm giving up on everything because my stupid back pain is taking up all of my brain space that used to be filled with happy thoughts" blue.
3. Medicine is good. I don't like to take a bunch of pills and I really don't like the side effects of those pills BUT if medicine can take the pain away AND give me back a little brain space to entertain some of those happy thoughts then give. me. the. pills!
4. Rest isn't just for wimps. I like to be productive and active and when pain gets in the way of that and rest becomes a *NEED*, not just a *wish*, I feel wimpy. Ugh. But, when you start to see the benefits of said "rest" and the pain moves farther and farther way then it's like, "woo-hoo, I'm REALLY good at resting ... I'm so proud of this accomplishment ... go ME ... way to REST!!".
5. Listen to your body. I mean, I always listen to my body when it says, "hey, go ahead and eat the whole bag of king size M&Ms right NOW". Why not listen when it's saying, "ouch, everything you do is hurting me ... please stop and get some help right NOW".

Not exactly life-changing thoughts but, hey, that's what I learned :)

Now that I'm on the road to recovery I have set a few goals for myself. One goal is to get active again, one is to eat fewer M&Ms, and one is to do more stuff like this ...... 

.... it can't be that hard, right? Well, wearing a swimsuit like that may be impossible but not the rest of it :)

bye, babe

Yesterday my love walked out the door.

He left with excitement and a huge smile on his face (how nice for him). He left without a backward glance and without regret. You see, my love is almost 5 years old. He's chasing snow with his daddy and will be out of my care for three (whole) days. Not exactly a lifetime apart but it might as well be to this mama. I know his daddy will take super care of him .... but it's not the same as ME taking care of him. (Sigh.)

Boo, hoo for me, right?! Wrong. Because this is what I've realized (prepare yourself): however much I miss my little boy this weekend I am a thousand times more grateful to his daddy for creating this adventure for our son. There, I said it. It's not all about me (wait, really?!). It's about letting those I love have the times of their lives ... even when it doesn't include me.

Besides, I don't like to be cold .... and snow volcanoes aren't really my thing :)

dirty dishes

Dirty dishes used to make me crazy. I couldn't stand to see even one or two dishes cluttering an otherwise clean sink. I would not go to bed until the kitchen was spotless. 

Today, well, this is what my sink looks like...

The sight of this should bother me. It should compel me to clean. It should hurt my pride to see this mess in MY kitchen. But, the funny thing is ... I. Don't. Care. 

You see, I want to care. I want to WANT to have a sparkling clean kitchen every minute of the day. But instead, the dirty dishes sit ... and sit and sit ... until either we run out of clean spoons OR hubby decides to take over and rid our house of this disgusting mess. (He is REALLY good like that.)

Some might think I've become lazy, or dirty, or despondent. But I think it is something else entirely .... I've become distracted. Distracted by, oh let's see .... the magazines piling up on my coffee table that I'd like to read, the naked toenails that I'd like to paint, the phone call that I'd like to make, the kid that I'd like to tickle, the walk that I'd like to take, the cookies that I'd like to bake, etc., etc., etc.

It's funny how the things that NEED doing look completely different from the things that NEEDED doing a decade ago. Priorities change. Perspectives change. I mean, I still think that having a clean house (and clean dishes) is sooooo awesome .... it's just that pretty toenails and freshly baked sugar cookies are waaaay awesome-er!

a single hair

It's been 2 1/2 weeks since our dog died. He was a sweet, sweet dog. He lived with us for almost 8 years ... our first "baby". Aside from being a loyal companion, protective of the children and the best home alarm system (ever) he also tended to shed .... a lot!

For the last 8 years I've been in the habit of Swiffering and/or vacuuming my floors at least daily. Now, I'm a little obsessive about my floors so having a furry friend who shed year round helped justify my OCD behavior. You would not believe the amount of fur I emptied from the vacuum on a daily basis ... out. of. control. (I'm on my sixth vacuum cleaner in as many years.) You may wonder if we ever took the time to groom our dog because with that much hair floating around we must have been neglectful in this area. Ha! We brushed and FURminator-ed (yes, that is a real thing) our beloved pooch two to three times per week but still, the shedding was unstoppable. And walking through a sea of dog fur did not seem to bother anyone except me! So .... I set about making sure that we had ONE room that was a 'no dog' zone. Since our dog had the IQ of a Harvard grad it was easy to train him to respect the threshold of this one room and I ... well.... I just LOVED being in that room. I liked seeing my pants stay fur-free, I liked not having to pull a stray dog hair out of my kid's mouth after he rolled on the floor, I liked knowing that if I drank a cup of coffee my cup would have ONLY coffee in it. It's the little things you know?!

Well ...

... for the last 2 1/2 weeks there has not been a lot of vacuuming. No dog hair floating in my coffee. No lint-rolling of my pants.

But, while straightening up the other day I came across a single hair ... a single dog hair ... left behind.

My heart just broke.

I miss our dog. I miss all that hair ... every vacuum clogging strand.

(Best dog ever: 12/23/2005 - 1/18/2014)

garbage can strategy

I consider myself to be a relatively grounded person. I prefer to explain myself in full rather than make a rash statement that will shut down a difficult conversation. This behavior applies to discussions with DH, friends and family and, of course, the munchkins. While fully explaining my rules and decisions to the little people at home may SEEM like a good idea ... I find that they lose interest in what I'm saying after about, oh, I don't know, four words. So, I have a new strategy ... not necessarily a 'good' strategy, but a new one nonetheless.

Here's the set up: two children who are hopped up on too much leftover Christmas candy and still high from the mountain of amazing toys that have spilled into our home during the holidays say things like, "no, don't touch that, it's mine, Santa brought it to me, you can't have it!", followed by streams of tears and screams. The statements escalate to threats, "if you touch that again I will hit you really, really hard!", followed by more tears and screams. Now, this maybe be fairly typical behavior for an over-tired, sugar-buzzed 2 year old. And, me being the "relatively" grounded person that I am knows this but, I'm telling you, the screams that come from the tiny mouth of a 2 year old will UNDO a person .... totally. So, after the toy in question did get touched ... again ... and then was used to draw blood from her brother's head we decided to implement this new strategy, "since you guys are not sharing this toy and are using it to hurt one another then your Dad and I are going to put it in the garbage can!" Shut down! The kids looked at us like we were crazy (we were), the 2 year old started to cry while Daddy put the toy in a garbage bag and the 4 year old pleaded with us to not throw away his sister's toy as he insisted the bloody mess on his head was an accident (sweet, but I'm not buying it). Anyway, the toy was trashed and no stitches were needed. And since that day when I remind the kids to share a toy I hear, "if we don't share are you going to put it in the garbage can?". Yes. I. Will.

the sofa goes over there

I absolutely, 100%, love rearranging furniture. I like to move pictures from wall to wall just for fun. Give me one hour, uninterrupted, and I will organize a closet like you have never seen. I guess I get this from my Dad. I've know him to organize tools down to the smallest nail and books in alphabetical order by author. It is a wonderful thing.

My favorite time to reorganize, rearrange and decorate is when I'm alone. There is something about listening to opinions while carrying out my "vision" that really bugs me. Maybe it's my birth order. I can blame a lot of my less than perfect personality on being the oldest sibling. With this esteemed position comes bossiness, impatience, need for control and awesome decision making abilities (note: I did NOT say that these decisions were always good ones ... just that I'm willing to sacrifice a good decision for a quick decision). And this is why I usually wait until my hubby is far, far away on a business trip to do my finest work. This fulfills two purposes: 1) my plan for space improvement will not be interrupted and, 2) I won't be subjected to any annoying opinions. Unfortunately, when hubby returns home he brings his opinions with him and this has caused some of my work to be returned to its original position (sigh) ... he just doesn't share the "vision". Other times, it's quite the opposite .... he may go weeks or a month before noticing a new picture on the wall or new window coverings in the family room. Strange.

So, I carry on with improving (in my opinion) this room and that room and loving every minute of it. Bonus: the two munchkins think my goofy room improvement projects are a great game! They get really excited to see the change, "oooooohhh, Mommy this is awesome!" ... which fulfills another of my first-born desires ... praise! A little goes a long way .....

rearranging furniture like Mommy ...

girl, look at that body. i work out.

Every single weekday I dress as follows:

• black workout leggings ... maybe ankle length, maybe knee length ... I like to spice it up with a little variety
• t-shirt .... up until recently this include circa 2001 threads that were handed down ... hmmm, let's call them "vintage"
• pullover sweater
• hot pink sneakers ... whoa, you didn't see that one coming did you?

and that completes the look. Then, off to the gym I go! Baaahahahaha!! Good one.

You see, I WANT to work out. I want to run. I want to lift weights. I want to Zumba. I want to be fit and strong and energetic. I really want to. Or, maybe I just WANT to want to. I mean, I love to DRESS like I'm hitting the gym and when moms at school ask, "are you headed to the gym?" I reply with a vague, "I'd like to" but I never (absolutely never) go. Am I lazy? I like to think not. Let's see ... I skip to and from the grocery store with my son, we sometimes ride bikes to a healthy dinner of pizza, I squat and lift my 2 year old daughter about 97 times a day. That's a workout, right?!

Then there is this: my husband goes to the gym every. single. day. (Traitor!) He invites me to go with him every. single. day. (Oh, that doesn't get old, ha!) The best is when he notices my outfit on, say, a Tuesday and asks, "babe, have you been to the gym?". I want to scream, "OF COURSE I WENT TO THE GYM! I TAUGHT THE FREAKIN' ZUMBA CLASS, DID I FORGET TO TELL YOU?!" just to throw him off. I hate having to explain myself. I'm a grown woman for crying out loud! But, what I hate even more is lacking the desire to do something that I know is really good fore me ... like exercising.

Man, my back hurts. Maybe I should workout more ....

if i were prettier

So, I'm a mom. It's not ALL I am but it's a BIG part. I'd say I spend roughly 94.38% of my time caring for my children, playing with my children, crafting with my children, cleaning my children, teaching my children and, just generally thinking about my children. With this amount of time spent on children you must assume I have a family with 4 or 5 kids. Nope, just 2. I know what you're thinking ... "maybe she smothers them just a teeny bit and needs to get a life!". Well, that's just it. I do have a life and, quite frankly, I love it. That is not the same thing as saying "I love everything about my life" so just calm down! There is a lot I would change about my home, my husband, my crazy kids, my body, my moods ... all of it! But, at the great old age of 41 I can easily see that there is so much to love about the drive-me-crazy-make-me-want-eat-M&Ms-and-drink-chardonnay-all-day parts as well as the super-fun-how-did-i-get-this-lucky parts.

Example: The other night I was snuggling in bed with my 2 munchkins and we were getting silly just hugging and loving on each other. (Note: this was especially nice because my 4 year old son passes out hugs to his mama very sparingly so to get a couple of hugs unsolicited is a big deal.) Then, out of the blue, my son announces, "Mommy, you are pretty (awwwww!) but, if you were prettier and smelled better I would hug you more (WHAT?!)." Ouch. That just plain hurt. You see, I had just come from the salon with my very cute short-hair-don't-care cut. Didn't he notice? And, I had actually showered that day ... with soap! Doesn't that get me a few 'smell good' points? (Sigh.) Here's the thing I realized ..... my son was simply sharing his little heart with me and just wanted me to listen to his complaints. If his own mama can't listen calmly to his points with out overreacting then how will he learn to trust someone with his feelings? I'm glad he spoke candidly with me. I should have done the same .... "Ummm, excuse me but who's been cleaning and comforting your sick little sister each and every time she's vomited the last two days?!". Oh, wait, I guess I didn't smell that great after all ....