Escape to Me
The 9-month-old is cranky. The 2-year-old is upset that he can’t fit his puzzle pieces together. The work queue is piling up. There’s a stain on the floor and I’m not sure how old it is. I forgot to thaw something this morning so I could make dinner tonight. Why does my shirt smell so funny? Did I just miss my son’s flu shot appointment? I think I missed that writing deadline. Breathe. Tomorrow will be different. Nay, 5:30PM will be different. Dinner will be calm. There will be a bath, a story, lights out. The house will fall quiet. Breathe. Think of stillness. Placid. An escape. A vacation. If I could go anywhere, where would it be? Would I go across the pond to a different country? A small town in Italy, perhaps a hideaway in the countryside of Scotland. Maybe a coast somewhere, where the ocean is at the tips of my toes. Sea shells at the ready for collecting, the salt air tickling my nose. Maybe somewhere cold, a place where I can wrap myself in a thick sweater and drink real cocoa, prepared warm and perfect. No. My ideal vacation isn’t a place I can physically visit. I would escape to find myself in my own head. I want to visit the place where magic happened, where words were written. Poetry composed itself. I would vacation to the parts of my mind that held onto dreams, where bitterness didn’t exist, where postpartum depression wasn’t in the equation. That spot in my head that wasn’t afraid, that set goals and met them. The space in my crown where negative was canceled by positive. I want to go where stories still exist, where make-believe isn’t fantasy, where “I can†and I will†and “I did†are the only affirmations ever uttered. It exists somewhere in there, probably below the piles of “I’m too busy†and “I do too much†and “I am not enough.†The core of me, now branched into many different people. Mother. Wife. Writer. Homemaker. Me. I would venture on a journey to find me again, introduce her to myself and make her part of my life again. I can. I will. I shall. Author:...
Read MoreHiding Behind the Curtain
I want to start a movement. I think it’s time we throw away our social networks and get real. Forget you, Facebook. I want to get on a site called RealBook – a place where we gather and tell each other how it’s really going. Not “vague-booking,†no perfect pictures showing off our fabulously cooked meals. No. I want to see your houses after a two year old has ripped through the living room in nothing but a diaper, wielding a broom that has knocked over all of your folded clean laundry. That’s right. Let’s stop hiding behind the Internet curtains and get real, people. Let’s pin a great margarita recipe on Pinterest and go right ahead and make it. I say this kind of tongue-in-cheek, but it just dawned on me that it’s really easy to hide behind ourselves out there on the Internet. It’s effortless to pick and choose how the world sees us. For me, people often ask me how I manage to work at home with two kids merely 18 months apart while writing articles all day, cooking that really awesome slow cooker chicken and biscuits I posted on Facebook 10 minutes ago. The reality is this: that’s just a picture of a dinner comprised of 4 ingredients. I threw it in my slow cooker, which took all of 5 minutes, all while my 8 month old daughter was scaling the sofa and my 2 year old son was throwing everything that was on my kitchen table onto the floor. Let’s not talk about the one paragraph I had been trying to write for two hours because every 10 minutes someone needed a diaper change. What you don’t see in that picture is the living room, also known as Disaster Central, where toys are scattered on the floor like land mines, the ten changes of clothes that were needed by my daughter, no thanks to several of her diaper blow outs, and about 20 dust bunnies, thanks to having two very large cats. You don’t see me, the person taking the picture, wearing last night’s pajamas, crying because I didn’t get enough sleep last night. You don’t hear the cacophonous screams of the 2-year-old chasing the cat into the other room, or the 8-month-old emitting her high pitched noise because she managed to stand herself up but can’t move another inch. Nope. All you see...
Read MoreTop 10 Reasons You Are Not 21 Anymore
1. Staying up past 11 pm is “living it up.” 2. When you see “Real World” (and why would you?), you think to yourself “Their poor parents…” 3. You don’t do shots before going out for a drink. 4. You stop trying to get high and just hope to stay low. 5. You buy pregnancy test in hopes that you are pregnant. 6. You can’t eat two pizzas with a 2 liter coke and call it a snack. 7. You work out for all those other silly reasons that are not “spring break.” 8. You are no longer fantasizing about revenging your ex. 9. Not all of your furniture is from IKEA. 10. You get unhealthy excitement about a new cleaning product. Author: Ilona...
Read MorePlaying Dress-Up
As I opened my suitcase and stared at the stylish, modern dress I had carefully packed, I suddenly found myself doubting my wardrobe decision. What was I thinking?!? Could I really pull this off?? An out-of-town wedding rears its head at many a family, and mine is no different. So when the invitation arrived for a Florida wedding in November (no kids allowed), my husband and I thought…why not? We can turn it into a long weekend and really enjoy ourselves. Great food, endless drinks and adult conversation? Sign us up! Immediately after that thought, my mommy logistics started kicking in: check out flight prices, find a place to stay, let Grandma know my girl will be spending a couple of nights there, etc. After all those details were squared away, I was left to face the one detail I could no longer avoid: the dress. This was going to be a family wedding, and I already knew most of my family would be there. They’ve seen the three cocktail dresses I own rotated countless times now, but I decided to try them on again anyway for kicks. As I suspected, they were too loose in some areas and too tight in others. I considered giving them one more showing and then suddenly had a light bulb moment: I deserved better! Seriously, I give myself all day to my family, my job, and everything else we all do as efficiently and reliably as breathing, and it was time to give something back to me. I knew this was going to be a trendy party, and I knew what I currently owned was not going to cut it. So…where did that leave me exactly? With most of that month’s budget going towards travel expenses, I didn’t exactly feel like a giant shopping spree was the right answer (and who really has the time and patience for that anyway!). I whipped out my cell and called one of my closest friends, whose style and passion for clothes I am consistently in awe of. She always looks so put together and accessorized, even casually (and she’s a mom, so she gets even bigger props). She makes it looks effortless and perhaps for her it is, however to me it remains an appreciated mystery. Being the gracious friend she is, she invited my daughter and me to her place one weekend morning for...
Read MoreWeighing in on The Weight
It occurred to me recently that weight gain during pregnancy has turned into another way for women to judge women. In high school we had the SATs, and as news moms we have pregnancy weight: how much you gain during, and how fast you lose it afterwards. And every woman knows exactly how much she gained and how long it took to lose. There are those that say, “Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really remember…” but I don’t believe them. For me personally, I bombed on both. Maybe bombed is a bit of a strong word to use. I am eternally grateful, of course, for my healthy and happy bouncing baby girl turned feisty toddler. But I didn’t fall into the recommended weight, gaining about 50 pounds. I became pregnant as a size four and filled out to a pregnant size fourteen and beyond, where the clothes stopped using numbers and would simply state: Maternity XXL. Part of me was thankful that I didn’t continue to rise in the ranks, and part of me was flabbergasted I had busted out (literally and figuratively) of the number system altogether. Even now, I shake my head in disbelief. But such is life when you’re growing a human being. And then, my baby has arrived! And it was T-minus how many weeks until I was supposed to fit into my skinny jeans, like Gwenyth Paltrow or Denise Richards did. I would mention Nicole Richie, but then I’d get really depressed. I seriously thought it could happen to me — that with enough determination and will power I would be back into my Lucky’s in no time. But the myth was shattered very soon after I realized that even though I wasn’t pregnant, I would proceed to look pregnant for at least the next two months. Forget about being large and in charge (which I also was), I actually looked like I was four months along. My waist didn’t show up for a long time; I didn’t know if she was ever going to appear again. That was a downer, and I would often reach for a bag of chips to commiserate. What did it matter now anyway, right? After eighteen months (yup, I said eighteen) I was finally able to get back into my size four Lucky’s. And they look pretty good too. I now feel like the slim, fit active mom...
Read MoreThe Person I Used to Be
Today I saw the person I used to be before motherhood. In fact, she’s everywhere! She’s at the grocery store, the mall, and even in the next car. I notice her because she’s so neatly put together, confident, and always in a hurry. I remember those days in my early to late twenties when life was all about me. I was selfish but it was okay. I had no one to look after. I could go about my day building my education, career, etc. For a second I almost wished I could taste the freedom again. Then I really thought about those days. I was struggling to finish college. My jobs never pleased me. And I especially disliked working for someone else. There were days when I just slept. Nothing was definite. Most of the time I was looking for an emotional connection in relationships that were unfulfilling. When I met my husband life changed. I had someone who accepted all my faults and loved me anyway. With that love came the desire to have a baby. It was something I said I would never do and something I never wanted. To my surprise my grandmother was right. She said I would change my mind someday. I guess approaching thirty effected the change of mind along with my husbands desire to have a child. It only took a matter of months after we were married to notice all the babies in the grocery store. We would smile at each one and plan for one of our own. Once my son came I embraced the life change. I prepared so much for how hard the change would be that it was almost easy. Staying home with my son became top priority. I would be my own boss and get a more useful education than any classroom could offer. Now, I have all the things that I did not have when I was running around in circles trying to become somebody. I have a reason to get up in the morning, a reason for being, and most important…a family to love. Isn’t that what we are all searching for in life? If so, then I am a success. Forget the old me. She has nothing on the person I am now! Author: Guest post by Victoria...
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