Girl Named Crazy

I read this article today, and felt the need to blog about it. It's about being ashamed when you have more than 2 kids. 

To the Lady Ashamed of Being Pregnant With Her Fourth

When we had Kylie, people asked if we were going to try for a boy. When we had Claire, people asked if we were going to try for a boy or if we were done. When I was pregnant with Chloe, people asked if she was an accident or planned (and I was always amazed people had the nerve to ask such a question), and if we are done or going to try for a boy. Now, when we did PLAN to have Chloe we were trying for a boy, but not everyone knows that. Why would they just assume that since we had two girls we automatically wanted a boy? And now that we have 3 girls, we will automatically try for a boy again? Having a girl and a boy doesn't define the American family. We are very happy and blessed with the 3 amazing girls that we have. 

People also assume if you're having more than 2 kids you're crazy. Studies have been done, and the parents of 4 kids reported being the happiest! Having said that, sometimes I feel like I'm crazy. Having 3 kids is HARD work. But for us personally, the benefits far outweigh the work we have to put in. Those 3 girls are our lives, and we can't imagine it any other way. And it melts my heart on a daily basis to see them interact with each other, and the sweet little sister moments they have (when they're actually being nice to each other!) and the bond that I know they will have for life. I am an only child, and I have wished my whole life that I had a sister to share everything with, so I'm so happy to have provided that to my kids. Every day is a new adventure, and I just want to enjoy this "magic time" while they're little because all too fast it will be past. 

The bottom line is - 1 kid or 20 kids (if you're a Duggar) it's everyone's individual family decision, and none of anyone's business. Moms get judged for SO many things, why add the number of children she has to the list? Why can't we moms stick together and support each other instead of picking apart every little thing that each other does. 

Girl Named Disappointed

So, my girls are in a "stage" where they don't like to listen. By "stage" I mean "childhood". Tonight started off well, but by the end of the night I was at the end of my rope. After telling them to brush their teeth no less than 9 times, Kylie went in the bathroom with stuffed toys (why not?) and of course, dropped one in the toilet. She was crying and crying, I told her I would wash it and toys don't belong in the bathroom. I took it into the laundry room and came back, and they had somehow covered the entire counter with toothpaste and water, and soaked 5 towels in water and said toothpaste. At this point I completely lost my temper and yelling and spanking ensued. Now, I'm not proud of this, but it happened. I feel there's this stigma with moms that we are supposed to be perfect and have endless patience, and make perfect Pinterest recipes every day, and go to school functions, plan perfect birthday parties, have perfectly clean houses, laundry done, dinner made...all while working 40+ hours a week! Today, for me, I've been sick, I'm tired, with work stress and everything else, I took it out on my kids. I debated whether or not to talk about this private part of my day, but you can judge me if you want - I wanted to share it so other moms that this happens to don't feel like I did afterwards. Like the worst mom in the world. 

Then this happened. I was putting Kylie to bed, and I had tears in my eyes from the guilt and frustration. She asked if I was crying and I told her I'm sorry I yelled at her, I shouldn't have done that. She says "Well, when I need to stop crying I just calm myself, and breathe in and out. You should try that" Be still my heart. Then when putting Claire to bed she says "You need to feel better. I will give you a hug and a kiss so you feel better". Okay, so that made me feel better and worse. I have these wonderful little girls with such big hearts that love me, and forgive me that easily for committing an awful crime in motherhood. I love those little girls more than life itself, and that's why I feel so crappy for taking my frustration out on them like that. I then turned to my favorite blog for some words of healing, and read this post:

Finding Joy - What if sometimes you don't like motherhood?

And it of course spoke to me, like her blog always does. I read her "Dear Mom" posts almost daily, because she is so real and honest. That's what inspired me to talk about the bad days as well as the good, in hopes that I can provide healing and encouraging words to a mom that's reading this. I know tomorrow will be better. That's the awesome thing about kids - when they wake up tomorrow they will have forgiven and forgotten, and I get a fresh start. Being a mom is hard enough without all the added outside pressures to be perfect. 

On a related note, I would love to start a local group (Springfield, MO) of moms that get together once a month and eat dinner, have drinks, and talk. We don't even have to talk about being moms, or our kids (but we can if we want!) I would just love to have a support group, and provide support to other moms as well. If you are interested, please comment below, or if we're friends on Facebook, message me! Us moms have to stick together, and let each other know that we are perfect, at least in our children's eyes! And our kids don't care about Pinterest, or a perfectly clean house, they care about us spending time with them, paying attention to them. They just want us to be their mom. 

Girl Named Hopeful

I, along with everyone in the country, have been thinking a lot about the Sandy Hook shooting a lot in the past week. When I first heard about it I was in shock that something so horrible could happen. I cried and hugged my kids. I go to bed every night and think about it. I think about the poor kids and what they went through. I think about what could have possibly been going through the shooters head when he decided to do that. I think about the teachers and how brave they were. I think about the policemen, fire fighters, first responders, anyone that was there and saw that, because I'm sure that's something they will never get out of their heads. And I think about the parents of children that were killed, and what they went through - what was their morning before school like, what were the last words they said to their kids, and how it's so unfair that their kids were taken from them so mercilessly. I pray for those parents every night, that God will provide them with whatever comfort he can in such a horrible situation, and help them to get through the grief and somehow find a light on the other side. It has made me look at my kids, my days, my time, my attitude a lot differently. I have always known, from my experience working at CMN, that I should never take my kids health for granted because it can change in an instant. But these kids weren't sick, it was so unexpected. You take for granted that you leave the house every morning and part ways with your family, and you will all come home that night. I'm making an effort to pay attention to my kids when they talk, to spend time with them (I haven't worked out at all this week while they are awake - but some of that could be from eating too many Christmas treats and being lazy...), to make them feel important, to not let the little things matter (mismatched clothes, spills on the floor, staying up past bedtime, taking an hour to eat dinner), and to have PATIENCE with them (I struggle with having patience!) I've realized they are only kids for so long - sing their song to them 20 times before bed, let them get up and get a drink 5 times before they go to sleep, let them watch "1 more Dora", let them have candy, buy them too many Christmas gifts. They will be teenagers in the blink of an eye and they won't want any of that, and they won't want to spend time with me because they'll be with their friends. 

These are, of course, things that I should always be doing, and it shouldn't take a tragedy to make me start. But it's so easy to get caught up in life, and being busy, and working, and you forget what's important and how fleeting it is. I want my kids to be happy, and have great memories of their childhood and the traditions we've started. I want them to be generous and kind to others, especially others in need. I want them to be nice to everyone, regardless of how that person treats them. I want them to be good friends to people.  I don't want them to take for granted what they have, because material things can be taken away in an instant (my house burned down when I was 16 and I lost everything. Possessions can be replaced, but people can't). In order to teach them what the important things are in life, I have to know without a doubt what I think the important things are in life. I want them to be happy with who they are, and confident in themselves no matter what they decide to do. Most of all, I want them to know they are LOVED. With the new year right around the corner, it's a perfect time to begin practicing these things. I can't be responsible for the evil people in the world and the decisions they make, I can only be responsible for myself and for the way I raise my kids. I'm hopeful - I know there is good in the world, and there is more good than bad. You have to help make the good though, you can't just sit back and expect to take the good. If everyone helped make a little good, everything wouldn't be so bad! I'm hopeful that my kids will grow up and help make good in the world. 

Girl Named Guilty

Lately, with the girls starting preschool and Claire crying every day, I have been feeling more and more guilty for being a working mom. Kylie says almost every day "I just wish I could stay home with you every day, as a family" and it breaks my heart. I keep telling myself it's irrelevant because she will be starting kindergarten next year anyway, so staying home is pointless because she will eventually have no choice. Then I decided to train for a 10K, so my runs 3 nights a week have turned into at least one hour runs, so by the time we eat dinner, do baths and I run, Pete has already put the girls in bed so I feel like I'm missing out on the few minutes I get in the evening with them. There's a constant struggle with spending time with them, or doing things to make myself healthier and happier. Last night Kylie was complaining that her stomach hurt, and got up several times during the night, but didn't get sick. I took her to preschool today because she had no fever and no signs of being contagious, but she clearly didn't feel 100%. I sat at work all day and wished I was able to stay home with her and hold her and baby her so she would feel better, instead of sitting at preschool where no one cares if she feels bad. Then, my friend Erin posted a link to a blog on Facebook, and it was perfect for what I was going through:

Momastery

It is worded so well, and goes through the guilt that both working moms and stay-at-home moms feel. I think a mom probably has guilt no matter what, because there's always going to be something we wish we did better, or we did more of, or we could do to be a better mom. I don't know any mom that sits down at the end of the day and says "I am a perfect mom and I did everything I wanted to do today, and couldn't have done it any better!" I so, I want to meet her! There are obviously merits of working and of staying at home, but I don't believe kids that are products of either environment necessarily turn out "better". It's a personal choice, and both are good decisions for different reasons. I choose to work because I went to college for 6 years to work. I enjoy working, it keeps me busy and keeps my brain working. It gives me a reason to dress up. It helps me interact with other people. It helps me appreciate the little time I have with my kids. I've thought about staying at home many times, but I know myself well enough to know I would wear PJ's every day, I wouldn't fix my hair, most days I wouldn't leave the house, and I definitely wouldn't interact with any adults besides my husband. I would be miserable. I'm lucky that all of my best friends are also working moms, so I am able to talk to them and share my feelings and they share theirs, and it really helps to have that support system. I know once the kids are in school it won't matter as much, but right now it's hard to leave the house for work on Monday mornings.