Tag Archives: parenting

Unintentionally Sad Blog Post

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One of my clients recently told me her children are 18 and 16 years old. I asked if her oldest was still home or off at college. This was her response…

My daughter is 18 and a senior. She is headed to college in the fall. I go back and forth between wanting to change the locks while she’s at school to following her around the house like a puppy saying, “Why do you want to leave me?” Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was cutting her grapes in half and sleeping on her floor when she had a fever? Sigh . .

You know in movies how something small, like a phrase or song, will cause the lead characters eyes to glaze over as the movie transitions to a black and white memory scene?

This is nothing like that.

But the email did bring tears to my eyes as I remembered my senior year of high school. My last year with my mom.

I remember summer 2004 when we would eat junk food and watch terrible TV. I remember awkward conversations. I remember laying my head on her shoulder for comfort. I remember questioning decisions in her life, only to have her catch me off guard or blow me away with her answer.

And I remember so much more, but those things would only embarrass me to share!

My senior year of high school, my mom and I began a transition from parent-child to parent-adult child, aka friendship. We never quite finished that transition, but I’m so glad we had the opportunity to begin that bond.

After forcing away the urge to cry, I smiled. I couldn’t bring myself to mention losing my mom. I don’t want to scare the woman! But I did write her this…

I remember my senior year with my mom. I learned so much about who she was.. How strong she was.. I say you have every right to follow your daughter around like a puppy. Give her extra hugs and kisses. Share some private mom/daughter time. She may not ever tell you, but it’s the best gift she’ll ever receive.

That goes for you, too, reader. I don’t care where you are at in your life, but you have every right to follow your children around and remind them of how much you love them. You never know when you won’t be there to remind them again.

End unintentionally sad blog post.

Absence-Induced Heart Fracture

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As I type this, HOS and I are driving farther and farther away from Charlotte. And tomorrow morning, we will get on a plane that will take us thousands of miles away. Each mile puts a little more pressure on my heart, and a little more worry in my mind.

I am blessed to work for an awesome company. We give thousands of dollars to the community, and the job has greatly improved our financial situation. Another great perk? My employers are taking everyone in the company (plus their respective significant others) to Cancun.

Awesome! Right?

I feel like I’m supposed to say yes. And when everyone in the office has been tanning, shopping and talking excitedly about the trip, I keep my head down…

Don’t get me wrong! I’m very appreciative. HOS and I have never taken a trip together. It will be great for us. I, however, am lacking the enthusiasm and excitement that is abundant at the office.

Honestly? The idea of both HOS and me being in a completely different country from our baby terrifies me. I experience a lot of anxiety, and my mind works through the worst possible scenarios.

Not to mention, we gave Charli hugs and kisses and laid her down for a nap at my aunt’s house. We left shortly after, so my precious baby woke up and we were no where to be found.

I feel like a terrible parent who abandoned her child.

Charlotte will hardly notice our absence during the next four days as she is spoiled by her great aunt and doted on by cousins. She will be at the house when we get home, happy and healthy.

I will fake it until I make it in Cancun, praying that the excitement will catch. I know I’ll enjoy three full days free from cooking and cleaning!

But tonight? Tonight, my heart will suffer a slight fracture from all these miles separating me Charli.

Early-Year Indifference

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At the end of the day, I spend 2.5 hours with Charlotte each night. And that breaks my heart.

Lately, this 2.5 hours have been filled with distractions. I may be physically with Charli, but I’m not there mentally and emotionally. Work is getting busier and busier. Charlotte isn’t sleeping well. Volunteer hours. Friends. Family. Events….

Somewhere in the last few months, I lost site of my real priority.

Last weekend, I hit a point that I will refer to as “Early-Year Indifference.” I no longer care about the board I sit on. I don’t care that my inbox is constantly overflowing with emails. I would rather stay at home than attend anyone’s anything. No offense. It’s not you; it’s me.

I want nothing more than to pass the time with my daughter. I want to enjoy every precious second I spend with her without being filled with guilt that I’m not doing something else. I want to be surprised and proud when she says a new word, and I want to revel in it. I want to feel the excitement radiating from her. I want to dance around the kitchen, sing while giver her baths and watch her sleeping in her crib.

I want to be moved to tears when Charlotte reaches her arms up to me and says, “Pwease!” because she wants me to hold her.

And I’m tired of missing out on these things because my mind is elsewhere.

I am indifferent to almost anything unrelated to my daughter.

I am not sorry for that.

Maybe this “Early-Year Indifference” will give way to “Mid-Year Motivation.” Who knows? For now, I’m going to be grateful and take advantage of every possible moment.

 

My Little Sous-Chef

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I love to cook.

I’m not a talented chef who knows how to pare different flavors or anything like that. I simply enjoy the act of cooking. Of course, I have a toddler running around so setting aside time to cook – I mean, really cook – is rare. Cooking actually takes away from mommy time with Charlotte.

(Lots of household activities encroach on time with Charli, but I use it to my advantage in most cases!)

Instead of completely giving up on one of my few hobbies, I’ve started engaging Charlotte in the cooking process. I ask her to choose between two different recipes or two vegetables or two fruits. I realize that her choices are probably based on what is most visually appealing at this age, but I’m hoping that this practice encourages her to make decisions for herself. Being an extremely indecisive person, I really want to teach her to importance of making decisions!

In addition to making choices for mealtime, I’m starting to include her in the cooking. She will drag a chair across the kitchen and slap the seat yelling “UH! UH!” (translation: UP! UP!) until I pick her up and place her on the seat. I scoot the chair up to the counter so she can watch as I measure and mix. I talk to her the whole time, explaining what I’m doing and what I’m making.

Yesterday, she helped me make turkey chili. She poured the different ingredients into the crockpot for me. After watching me stir for a few seconds, Charli decided it was the coolest thing ever! She stirred and stirred, and was not happy when I told her it was time to cook the chili.

Charlotte won’t remember this experience with me because she is too young. She won’t remember what it was like to have me leaning over her, wrapping my hand around her hand as I taught her how to stir the ingredients. She won’t remember the pure, innocent joy in that moment.

And she won’t remember that she refused to eat even one bite of the chili when it was done.

But I will remember. At least I hope I will.

It was one of the most bittersweet moments I’ve had in a while. It was such an awesome, happy experience, and it made me long for my mom so very much.

So it seems I have a new cooking buddy, my little sous-chef. I won’t have to give up my hobby, and I won’t have to miss out on time with my daughter. It’s a win-win… If only she would eat what she cooks!

I Exercise Because I Love My Daughter

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I hate exercise.

I hate the sweat rolling off my nose and into my mouth while I attempt a walking plank.

I hate the tightness and soreness in my muscles.

I love seeing the number decreasing (instead of increasing) on the scale.

I love seeing and feeling the changes in my body.

Most importantly, I love my daughter, and I hate the thought of missing any part of her life.

If you’ve read my blog, you know that I attribute a lot of my goals for mommyhood to things I learned from my mom. One of the greatest lessons was taught the hardest way. My mom is my motivation for losing weight and being fit because she was too busy selflessly caring for her three kids to take care of herself. I believe that played a large role in the cancer that took her life.

I love my mom more than words can describe. I miss her very deeply. And it is because of that love and that aching that I want to do more than she was able to do in terms of health. I want to instill the importance of physical health, as well as spiritual, emotional and mental health. The only way for me to do that is by first instilling it in myself. That is no easy feat, my friends!

I enjoy playing volleyball and basketball, and I used to love running sprints. I do not enjoy 50 minute workout videos that leave me trembling and sweaty, curled up in a ball on the basement floor. Not that I have ever done that. …

I exercise because I love my daughter. I want to be at her college graduation. I want to show her friends embarrassing photos from her youth. I want to take her for drinks when she gets her first big job. I want to help her plan her wedding and watch as she walks down the aisle. I want to hold her babies in my arms and teach them all the things my mom wasn’t here to teach Charlotte. I want all of these moments and all the little, forgettable moments in-between. I want those things because I didn’t get to experience them with my mom.

I hate exercise, but I do it for me and for my daughter.

I hate sweating, but I will count every drop as an extra hour with her.

I hate feeling sore, but it is a mere pinch in comparison to the pain she will feel when I am gone.

This is what I remind myself on nights like this, when I want nothing more than to crawl into bed and forgo the workout. What’s 50 minutes of my time after Charlotte’s asleep?

Oh, just a couple more hours of life later on.

I love the sound of that.

Toddler Squats

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I started working out a few weeks ago. … Again.

Typically, I’ll work out for for several weeks followed by falling off the band wagon for several months. This is my exercise cycle.

In an attempt to break this cycle, I’m working on my form. I honestly doubt I’m doing these exercises correctly. So, I was watching a video on how to squat correctly. HOS was acting out the instructions from the video. Charli decided that looked like a good time and started squatting, too.

Her form isn’t bad! She squats a little too low, but that could be my envy speaking. This kiddo is built for exercise!

Here’s a quick view of HOS and Charlotte doing squats!

Forgive and Forget

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I want to forgive and forget the way Charlotte does. I want to be able to literally forget something awful within seconds of it happening. I want to forgive myself as freely as my wonderful baby.

Tonight was one of those frazzled nights when you call (or text) a friend to tell her how you are failing as a mother. I typically choose my friends without kids.. They know me best, and they aren’t going to spend long amounts of time explaining what worked and didn’t work for their children.

No offense, fellow parents! I love you, and I value your opinion. We parents have a tendency, however, to provide our opinions even when we aren’t asked. I do it every day!

So why did I feel like a complete and utter failure? Why did I instantly wish I could go back in time? Why?

I made my child cry.

And not the whining, pouty tears. These were legit, mouth wide open and eyes shut tight tears.

Basically, I suck.

Charli’s love-hate affair with dinner time has become a stressful ordeal in our household. Not to mention, it takes 30+ minutes for her to complete a meal. During the “hate” phases, she likes to throw the food on the floor. She will dangle handfuls over the edge of her tray and look me straight in the eye as if she is daring me, begging me to say something. Her cubby little fingers open up to release the food while I’m in mid-sentence…

“Nuh-”

*sigh*

“O.”

Charlotte decided to not eat a single bite of dinner tonight. She thought it best to toss the food onto the floor.

I asked nicely.

I asked sternly.

I told her we could sit there all night.

I lightly tapped her hand and said no.

She taunted me.

She hit at me.

She squeezed the life out of the good and threw it down on the plate.

She continued to drop the food onto the floor while staring me in the eyes defiantly.

When she grabbed a large piece and threw it onto the floor, I bopped her little hand. The top of her hand was slightly pink, and her beautiful face scrunched into and awful wail as I apologized over and over. I quickly removed her from the high chair to kiss her cheeks and beg forgiveness.

It took less than a minute for Charli to forgive and forget my too severe punishment.

Me?

I forgive myself… A little. I have a lot of work to do to improve my patience. But forgetting is another story.

Her Mother’s Daughter

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HOS’ job keeps him busy most nights, so Ms. Charli is stuck hanging out with me. I’m afraid the poor child is doomed…

Every day brings new experiences that only perpetuate my belief that she takes after me.

These are the top 5 reasons I know my daughter is my mini-me.

1. She throws a tantrum when someone takes away her cookies. While this is true of most people, we have this awesome tantrum where we cautiously lower ourselves onto the floor to prevent injury. Once safely sitting on the floor, we commence flailing around like mad women.

2. Her finger nails are her weapon of choice. My cousins love sharing the story of the time it took three of the older cousins to hold me down and cut my nails so I would stop attacking them. I don’t remember the details of this scenario, but I do remember it happening. In an effort to overcome embarrassment, I say I was pretending to be Wolverine. … I wasn’t.

3. She eats anything off the floor. This can be read two ways – emphasizing anything or off. She does both. Tonight, she took noodles from the pan, toddled into the kitchen where she put them on the floor before picking them back up and eating them. She will also eat anything edible that is on the floor – including yesterday’s snacks.

4. She is mouthy. I don’t know what she is saying yet, but when she starts to use real words, I’m in for it! When I tell her no or raise my voice, little miss sassy pants will take a couple steps away from me, turn around and shake her index finger at my while babbling in a tone that is sure to dominate her teen years.

5. She eats anything. My best friend calls me a “human garbage disposal” for good reason. Charli isn’t far behind me. There have only been a few things she wouldn’t eat… And there have been a few things she ate that even I wouldn’t eat. I’m not complaining! She makes me feel like an awesome cook.

I claim all of these things to be inherited from me – good or bad. She also sleeps in the most uncomfortable positions, but this has to be shared equally with her daddy. He rarely looks comfortable…

Well, Charli, you’ll fight me on this for many years, but you really are your mother’s daughter!

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Lub U

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I tell Charlotte that I love her every chance I get. The child hears me say it no less than 10 times per day. Tonight, while Charli lay back against me and watched my face intently, I told her I loved her. “Love you!”

She looked up at me with her big, blue eyes, and said “lub u.”

For the first time!

She smiled a smile that would melt the coldest if hearts.

I will remember the look on her face and the deep connection within our stares for the rest of my life.

I have been loved, but there is none greater than this!

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Charlotte’s Slippers

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If only I could see the world through Charlotte’s eyes for just one day…

As adults, we are caught up in the fast-paced rat race we call “life.” It’s all about stuff! Nothing is ever good enough.

We want bigger, clearer, smarter TVs.

We want faster cars.

Bigger houses.

Longer vacations.

The list is ridiculous, and it is long.

Even if we received everything we wanted, we would be disappointed.

Because nothing is good enough.

Tonight, I gave Charlotte her first pair of slippers, regular ol’ slippers. She was genuinely happy!

HAPPY!

She danced and smiled and couldn’t stop looking at her slippered feet!

I want to be like my daughter. I want look at life’s experiences the way Charli looked at those slippers – with joy and wonder!

When was the last time you felt and acted genuinely blessed by the little things in your life?