Roll With the Punches

Today was my first official day back to work. Yesterday was actually supposed to be my first day back . . . and then I got the stomach flu from my kids. Nothing like calling in on your first day back. So, today I went back. I became a working mom again. Back to reality.

I've spent the last month of my 6 month maternity leave preparing to go back to work. I wanted it to be as smooth of a transition as possible, for both the kids and myself. I knew it would be chaotic, but I figured if I was prepared, it would be less chaotic. So, last night I did my last minute preparations. I had my coffee in the coffee pot ready to go, diaper bag packed up and in the car, kids' clothes laid out, lunches packed, and dinner in the crockpot ready to be plugged in the next morning. "I can do this!" I thought. Sure, it took over a half-hour to get everything ready, but I knew it would pay off in the morning when I was trying to get everyone up and ready.

I was all set to get a good nights' sleep and had just settled into bed when I heard the cries of a very unhappy baby through the monitor. "Great," I thought. So I went upstairs, rocked Izzy back to sleep, and got back in bed to get some sleep. 10 minutes later, I hear it again. Would I be a bad mom if I just turned off the monitor and pretended not to hear her? The thought crossed my mind for a split second.

3 hours of off-and-on crying later (2 am at this point), I did something I swore I'd never do. (And have never done in 6 years of being a mom until now.) I put Izzy in bed with me. Yes, I do realize she could have gotten SIDS, so please spare me the guilt. Desperate times call for desperate measures. "5:45 will be here way too soon," I thought as I drifted off to sleep with Izzy FINALLY sleeping soundly next to me. It was. As I awoke to check the clock, the way everyone does when they wake in the night to see how much time they have left to sleep, I jumped out of bed. 6:48!!!! How did that happen? I had overslept by over an hour and needed to be leaving the house by 7:30. CRAP!!! Long story short, Bryan forgot to reset the alarm for my early rise time, and with his help (and my preparations the night before), we somehow managed to get out the door on time.

So, my return to work was not without chaos and did not go as smoothly as I had hoped. It was just the opposite. It was the worst possible scenario of a chaotic morning that I could have imagined. The thing is, no matter how much you prepare for something, things never go as planned, especially when you have kids. Life doesn't throw curve balls. The curve balls ARE life. Whether it's the stomach flu, a crying baby, or an alarm clock mishap - these things happen to all of us. The best you can do is roll with the punches and remind yourself that even in the most chaotic and stressful moments, you are where God intends for you to be.

And if God intends for you to oversleep, then tell that to your boss when you're late for work.

Proud to be an American

Today I'm not writing about being a mom. I'm writing about being an American. For the past several days, I've heard many people complaining about the outcome of the election. Yes, I admit, it didn't turn out the way I had hoped either. You see, I am disappointed too. I am fearful for our national security. Yet, I am also proud.


I am proud that I live in a country where I can take my daughters with me to vote. Jena asked if she gets to vote, too. "No" I told her. "Not today, but when you're 18 you can. You are lucky you live in America, where women get to vote."


I am proud that I live in a country where a woman can run for president and for vice president and where an African-American can become elected. Brayden and Jena watched the election coverage with me on tv before they went to bed. When I tucked them in, I told them "Tonight, history will be made. We will either have our first woman in office or our first African-American." "I hope John McCain wins," said Brayden. "Me too," I said.


The next morning, the first words out of Jena's mouth were "Who's our next president?" "Barack Obama," I told her. "Aw, man!" she replied. "It will be okay," I said. "That's the thing about voting. Sometimes elections don't turn out the way you want."


However, I am proud. I am proud to have had the opportunity to cast a vote and to see the democratic process play out. I am proud to live in a country where not only can we elect our president, but where we can speak freely about it.


So go ahead and complain. It's our right as Americans. But let us not forget how lucky we are to have that right.

The Funny Thing About Pictures

Yes, I realize that I used to make fun of people who have a blog. I always thought they had way too much time on their hands. Yes, I am bored. I am still on maternity leave and have run out of things to do. My house is in order for the first time since we moved in, all of my pictures are in albums, I have about a month's worth of meals in the freezer (I guess I was in a panic that I won't have any time to cook anymore when I go back to work, yet somehow I managed to do it for 9 years), and a good portion of my Christmas shopping is done - so now I am blogging.

I realize that my last blog was very sentimental. Please don't be misled. I get very sentimental about Izzy. She's my baby and yes, she's got us all wrapped around her little finger. I know I will pay for it later. You will probably find that I write more about her than I do about Brayden and Jena. That's because I have more nice things to say about her right now. I'm sure in a few years that will change, once she is able to talk back and argue with her big brother and sister. For now, she's the only kid in our family who doesn't drive me crazy on a daily basis.


See this picture of Jena? Cute, right? What you don't see is the events that took place seconds before I took the picture. Brayden was reading a book to Izzy on the floor. (The only way I can get him to do his nightly reading without it becoming a major power-struggle is to have him read to her.) I thought to myself, "This would be a cute picture!" So I got out the camera and took a picture. Here it is. Jena, seeing me taking a picture of Brayden and Izzy, got very jealous and started screaming,
"TAKE A PICTURE OF ME, TOO!" So, that's what happened right before she is smiling and looking all cute in that picture.

That's the funny thing about pictures. They only show one fraction of a moment in time. You never see what happened right before - parents yelling at their kids to stop making faces at the camera or a brother and sister fighting over who gets to hold the baby. We as parents like to photograph the happy times. On days when we want to pull our hair out, those pictures serve as a reminder that our children are cute and yes, we do love them - even though at times we may not like them very much. (Did I really just say that?) Admit it - you know you've felt that way too at some point if you have a child over the age of 3. If not, you're either lying or self-medicating.

Savor the Lasts

When Bryan and I decided to have a third child, I promised myself that I would relish EVERY moment this time because I've seen how fast it goes. As I sat many nights in the rocking chair, half asleep, trying to get Izzy to go back to sleep, I didn't get upset or fall asleep. I stared at her little face and tried to ingrain it into my memory. Her tiny little upturned nose and long eye lashes. Her little fingers wrapped around mine. And now she is 5 months old. Those nightly wake-up calls have been over for several months, but when I get one every now and then, I hold her close and thank God for the moment. The chance to hold her in my arms in the middle of the night when everyone else is still asleep. Brayden is down the hall lying neatly under his blankets, the other side of his bed perfectly made. I have to put my hand on his back to make sure he's breathing. Jena is on the other end of the hall, sprawled across her bed, blankets disheveled. She has 2 lamps on because she's scared of the dark. I can't remember the last time I held them in my arms and rocked them in the middle of the night. That's the thing about when kids grow up - you remember the firsts, but not the lasts. Every mom probably remembers the first time their kids sat up, crawled, walked, and said their first words. But how many remember the last time they rocked a crying baby to sleep in the middle of the night? Or the last time they wiped spit-up off a clean shirt? Or the last time they carried their toddler up the stairs before they decided they wanted to do it themself? With Izzy, I'm going to savor every moment like it's a last. Because one of these days too soon, it will be.

I have a blog

What exactly does "blog" mean, anyway? Bear with me as I figure this stuff out! My friends were starting to make me look bad with all their cute mommy blog stuff and I figured since I haven't updated the kids' baby books in years or even started a baby book yet for Izzy, this might be a good way to preserve memories.