I started using Pinterest, and it's making me a better mother.
Well, it makes me feel like I'm a better mother. I'm actually feeling like my brain is organized into catagories and I have PICTURES and links to follow, and practical instructions on how to do these projects that I really have wanted to do, but never really do, because I don't know where to start.
And those who have known me for years are snickering, because for years I claimed that I wasn't crafty, and don't get me started on "crafts" (said with icky distain over the ridge of my crinkled nose).
But I'm not going to alter that claim; I do hate crafts. I dislike what was called "crafts" in Sunday school with that boring construction paper, and glue, and elbow macaroni. That was lame, and even at the age of 6 I was aware of it.
No, not crafty. I am artistic.
(don't laugh)
I love making things. But I want them to be useful and practical, and solve a problem I've been meaning to solve. I learned to knit a couple of years ago, and the problem that solved was excess tension. Amazingly, focusing on stitching a scarf into existence really does solve two problems for me. The first is that I need to be warm. And scarfs are trendy and beautiful. The second is (or is it the third...?) knitting relaxes me and helps me not to worry about all the "stuff" that moms worry about. Or the stuff women worry about. Or wives... whatever. I worry a lot. And it makes me tense. Knitting helps. End of story.
So with this Pinterest thing, I am learning that I can do even more. I can make my kids clothes. I can decorate. I can cook (again). I can enjoy my kids because I'm not worrying about the fact that I'm NOT being creative or artistic with the space and objects around me. Instead, I go look at my boards, and pin new pins to my boards, and I see what others are doing to keep their children from running wild (i.e., yes, it usually entails a kind of craft...).
So the ultimate purpose of this blog is to say that I'm spreading my wings in the sky of crafting. I am learning to love to make, and create, and I think this is making me a better mother. A calm and happy mommy is a good mommy. Oh, and I saw this quote on Pinterest today:
"Good moms have sticky floors, dirty ovens, and happy kids."
So on my path to being more crafty, my floors will be sticky with glue, my oven will be dirty with all the amazing food I'm cooking, and my kids will be happy because they've been eating glue and smearing it on the floor.
Ah, on to another day of cyber-craftiness.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Mad Mommy
It's been a long time. I've given up on having the "right time" or "quiet" before I sit to write anything.
In spite of my attempts to make my children TV addicts, they insist on having fantastic imaginations, paired with a lot of activity and moving about. They just aren't going to make good couch-potatoes, and I've relinquished the dream.
I am increasingly amazed at the quantity of words that escape the mouth of my 3-year-old. She never, ever stops talking. And her conversations (mostly with imaginary people) focus primarily on princesses, parties, marriage, weddings, and prince charming. I don't know what to do with her. When I'm tired (always), I usually enjoy a quiet time, followed by more quiet time, and maybe a cup of coffee (or five). This just does not happen in the real world as I know it, and therefore frustration ensues.
This leads to the appearance of "mad mommy." The "mad" in this case does not refer to "crazy" (although that would not be very inappropriate here), but instead refers to the raising of my voice and blood-pressure. When I don't get the time alone I require, I become quite agitated. I'm really not the best loving and nurturing mother these days. I'd like to be that kind of mommy, all the time. But I'm usually 80% mad, 20% nurturing. I'm not okay with that.
Some days are worse than others. Some WEEKS are worse than others. I find that getting out of the house (as stressful as that can be with 3 little ones in tow), really helps. Even if it's a quick trip to Target or a desperate drive through the country. The kids like it too. They don't love being cooped up in our tiny home any more than I do (remember, NOT couch-potato types).
I'm just now starting to see that time will bring more quiet times. Now that Ivey, my youngest, is 14 months, and I'm anticipating preschool for both the older 2 next year, I'm hoping for more time to write, and perhaps more time for quiet reflection on why I do, indeed, love being a mother to my children. And although I can not quite fathom having another baby at this time, maybe someday I'll have that desire.
But until then, I'm working on keeping Mad Mommy at bay. I hear she takes Rocky Road ice cream as a peace offering...
In spite of my attempts to make my children TV addicts, they insist on having fantastic imaginations, paired with a lot of activity and moving about. They just aren't going to make good couch-potatoes, and I've relinquished the dream.
I am increasingly amazed at the quantity of words that escape the mouth of my 3-year-old. She never, ever stops talking. And her conversations (mostly with imaginary people) focus primarily on princesses, parties, marriage, weddings, and prince charming. I don't know what to do with her. When I'm tired (always), I usually enjoy a quiet time, followed by more quiet time, and maybe a cup of coffee (or five). This just does not happen in the real world as I know it, and therefore frustration ensues.
This leads to the appearance of "mad mommy." The "mad" in this case does not refer to "crazy" (although that would not be very inappropriate here), but instead refers to the raising of my voice and blood-pressure. When I don't get the time alone I require, I become quite agitated. I'm really not the best loving and nurturing mother these days. I'd like to be that kind of mommy, all the time. But I'm usually 80% mad, 20% nurturing. I'm not okay with that.
Some days are worse than others. Some WEEKS are worse than others. I find that getting out of the house (as stressful as that can be with 3 little ones in tow), really helps. Even if it's a quick trip to Target or a desperate drive through the country. The kids like it too. They don't love being cooped up in our tiny home any more than I do (remember, NOT couch-potato types).
I'm just now starting to see that time will bring more quiet times. Now that Ivey, my youngest, is 14 months, and I'm anticipating preschool for both the older 2 next year, I'm hoping for more time to write, and perhaps more time for quiet reflection on why I do, indeed, love being a mother to my children. And although I can not quite fathom having another baby at this time, maybe someday I'll have that desire.
But until then, I'm working on keeping Mad Mommy at bay. I hear she takes Rocky Road ice cream as a peace offering...
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Woman in the Corner Judging Me
Often I'm struck with a strange voyeuristic perspective on my daily activities.
I'm suddenly outside my own body, and I see a frazzled woman gripping her 9 month old baby under one arm, while frantically vacuuming with the other. She has a weird look on her face. She looks like she might cry. Why doesn't she just put down the baby?
And then I come back to myself and tell that girl over in the corner judging me that I CAN'T put the d@mn baby down because I will not listen to her screech at me for another minute, nor will I fight her attempt to climb up my leg while simultaneously pulling down my pants.
Why are my pants able to be pulled down by a 9-month-old you might ask? Well, I'm either wearing the sweatpants or stretchy leggings I slept in the night before, OR I'm wearing jeans that are a size too big.
Which leads to another topic, why my pants are too big. Well, I suppose most women would welcome the "problem" of loose-fitting clothing (myself included). However, my weight loss is the direct result of the previously mentioned 9-month-old still sucking on my b@@bs 24/7. Yes, she is addicted to me. I can't sleep without her crying "mama" from the crib beside our bed, getting increasingly louder in her request for nursing time, so I must get her in order to allow my husband to sleep so he can get up for work the next day.
So here she comes, into our bed, into my special place where I only want to sleep and make love. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Instead, I let her nurse beside me. I do this because I can still sleep a little while she eats. Then sometimes I am awake enough to try putting her back in her bed; often times, I'm not awake, and she stays all night. Eating. Sucking the fat right off my body.
I wake up in the morning 2 pounds lighter and hungry as a horse. However, I don't have time to feed myself, as there are diapers to change, and children demanding milk, and juice, and eggs. I usually just have a couple cups of coffee before I remember that I should also eat...
Where was I going with this? Well, aside from the bitter complaint that my kids are super demanding right now and I'm going on little sleep. I think it was just that. Life is hard right now. And I feel a little crazy.
But on a positive note, I'm skinny.
*yay*
I'm suddenly outside my own body, and I see a frazzled woman gripping her 9 month old baby under one arm, while frantically vacuuming with the other. She has a weird look on her face. She looks like she might cry. Why doesn't she just put down the baby?
And then I come back to myself and tell that girl over in the corner judging me that I CAN'T put the d@mn baby down because I will not listen to her screech at me for another minute, nor will I fight her attempt to climb up my leg while simultaneously pulling down my pants.
Why are my pants able to be pulled down by a 9-month-old you might ask? Well, I'm either wearing the sweatpants or stretchy leggings I slept in the night before, OR I'm wearing jeans that are a size too big.
Which leads to another topic, why my pants are too big. Well, I suppose most women would welcome the "problem" of loose-fitting clothing (myself included). However, my weight loss is the direct result of the previously mentioned 9-month-old still sucking on my b@@bs 24/7. Yes, she is addicted to me. I can't sleep without her crying "mama" from the crib beside our bed, getting increasingly louder in her request for nursing time, so I must get her in order to allow my husband to sleep so he can get up for work the next day.
So here she comes, into our bed, into my special place where I only want to sleep and make love. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Instead, I let her nurse beside me. I do this because I can still sleep a little while she eats. Then sometimes I am awake enough to try putting her back in her bed; often times, I'm not awake, and she stays all night. Eating. Sucking the fat right off my body.
I wake up in the morning 2 pounds lighter and hungry as a horse. However, I don't have time to feed myself, as there are diapers to change, and children demanding milk, and juice, and eggs. I usually just have a couple cups of coffee before I remember that I should also eat...
Where was I going with this? Well, aside from the bitter complaint that my kids are super demanding right now and I'm going on little sleep. I think it was just that. Life is hard right now. And I feel a little crazy.
But on a positive note, I'm skinny.
*yay*
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Being Okay
I'm trying to be okay with that pile of crumbs beneath the dining room table.
There are much more important things to worry about; my children, for example.
But I'm having a hard time being okay with it. I keep a small vacuum right beside my dining room table so that I can immediately suction the offending bits that my girls (purposely???) leave for me to clean.
If I tallied up all the time I spent thinking about those crumbs, or actually vacuuming those crumbs, or getting on my hands and knees to dig the sticky ones up with my bare hands.... well, that would just be a lot of time.
I can sometimes go a whole day without washing the dishes, or doing the laundry, or dusting, or cleaning the bathroom...
But those crumbs. They haunt me.
I think what it is, is that crumbs are a pretty easy fix. Especially when you have a vacuum plugged in and ready to go. When my days begin to feel out of my control, and my kids are running around like horror film victims, and my hair hasn't been washed in 3 days, and I'm still in my "comfy clothes" (aka, pajamas), at 3 in the afternoon, I can simply vacuum the crumbs, and I feel like I've accomplished something. I've fixed something that needed fixing.
I'm still hoping to one day be okay with a few crumbs, in exchange for a few more quality moments with my girls, or at least a more relaxed spirit. But until then, I suppose the crumbs, in a way, help keep me sane. And anything that helps to keep my sanity, is certainly a friend, not a foe.
There are much more important things to worry about; my children, for example.
But I'm having a hard time being okay with it. I keep a small vacuum right beside my dining room table so that I can immediately suction the offending bits that my girls (purposely???) leave for me to clean.
If I tallied up all the time I spent thinking about those crumbs, or actually vacuuming those crumbs, or getting on my hands and knees to dig the sticky ones up with my bare hands.... well, that would just be a lot of time.
I can sometimes go a whole day without washing the dishes, or doing the laundry, or dusting, or cleaning the bathroom...
But those crumbs. They haunt me.
I think what it is, is that crumbs are a pretty easy fix. Especially when you have a vacuum plugged in and ready to go. When my days begin to feel out of my control, and my kids are running around like horror film victims, and my hair hasn't been washed in 3 days, and I'm still in my "comfy clothes" (aka, pajamas), at 3 in the afternoon, I can simply vacuum the crumbs, and I feel like I've accomplished something. I've fixed something that needed fixing.
I'm still hoping to one day be okay with a few crumbs, in exchange for a few more quality moments with my girls, or at least a more relaxed spirit. But until then, I suppose the crumbs, in a way, help keep me sane. And anything that helps to keep my sanity, is certainly a friend, not a foe.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
10 Tips for Feeling like a Woman in the Midst of Motherhood
1. When you haven’t showered in two days, and you have no time for one, make yourself feel clean and pretty by doing a quick shave of your underarms, dabbing on a little perfume, and donning a smidgen of lipgloss. You’ll feel like a new woman.
2. Put on a bra, woman. Nothing will bring you down in the morning like the feeling of your girls hanging low. Not a sports bra. A real bra. A pretty bra. Don’t cheat on this one.
3. Invest in a good “waterless shampoo”, aka, white powder marketed especially for soaking up extra oils in unwashed hair. It will do in a pinch when you only have 15 minutes to get yourself and your kids out the door.
4. Please wear clean underwear. I find that whatever I tell my 3 year old, I too should do. I know you just put some clean panties on before you crawled into bed last night, but it’s a good idea, anyhow.
5. Wear jewelry. Even if make-up didn’t make its way onto your face, a pair of dangly, shiny earrings will distract from your dark under-eye circles.
6. Send your husband a flirty email or text. It will make you feel like you are still having sex on a regular basis, and perhaps your husband will send one back to you and you will feel like you are indeed still a woman, and not just a frazzled mommy.
7. Brush your teeth. I know a lot of these bits of advice seem to be centered around hygiene, but lets face it; hygiene has become secondary in these difficult times.
8. If you don’t get out for anything else, at least get out for a pedicure periodically. Nothing makes me feel more unattractive than when my feet look like I’ve been wandering around in the desert for 40 years. A clean coat of polish and a good scrubbing can go a long way in making you feel like a functioning member of society.
9. Go on a date with your husband.... without your kids. I don’t care if you have to bribe your neighbor to watch them while they sleep, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!! None of this stay-home “dinner and a movie” stuff involving Chinese take-out and a Netflix. You need to be out, be seen, and have a reason to put a decent outfit together.
10. And last but not least, keep a picture of yourself around the house (on the fridge, on your desk, wherever you will see it throughout the day), of yourself BEFORE kids. Make sure it’s a picture that you love; you were having a great hair day, you were on a fantastic date, you were feeling skinny, whatever. You need to be reminded throughout the day that you are more than this over-caffeinated, unshaven, stinky (yes, I said it) mommy. Don’t get me wrong, being a mom is amazing and your kids will make you smile and you will not be able to imagine your life without them... however, it is a good thing to remember that you are also a fabulous and beautiful woman.
Now, go put on a bra.
2. Put on a bra, woman. Nothing will bring you down in the morning like the feeling of your girls hanging low. Not a sports bra. A real bra. A pretty bra. Don’t cheat on this one.
3. Invest in a good “waterless shampoo”, aka, white powder marketed especially for soaking up extra oils in unwashed hair. It will do in a pinch when you only have 15 minutes to get yourself and your kids out the door.
4. Please wear clean underwear. I find that whatever I tell my 3 year old, I too should do. I know you just put some clean panties on before you crawled into bed last night, but it’s a good idea, anyhow.
5. Wear jewelry. Even if make-up didn’t make its way onto your face, a pair of dangly, shiny earrings will distract from your dark under-eye circles.
6. Send your husband a flirty email or text. It will make you feel like you are still having sex on a regular basis, and perhaps your husband will send one back to you and you will feel like you are indeed still a woman, and not just a frazzled mommy.
7. Brush your teeth. I know a lot of these bits of advice seem to be centered around hygiene, but lets face it; hygiene has become secondary in these difficult times.
8. If you don’t get out for anything else, at least get out for a pedicure periodically. Nothing makes me feel more unattractive than when my feet look like I’ve been wandering around in the desert for 40 years. A clean coat of polish and a good scrubbing can go a long way in making you feel like a functioning member of society.
9. Go on a date with your husband.... without your kids. I don’t care if you have to bribe your neighbor to watch them while they sleep, GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!! None of this stay-home “dinner and a movie” stuff involving Chinese take-out and a Netflix. You need to be out, be seen, and have a reason to put a decent outfit together.
10. And last but not least, keep a picture of yourself around the house (on the fridge, on your desk, wherever you will see it throughout the day), of yourself BEFORE kids. Make sure it’s a picture that you love; you were having a great hair day, you were on a fantastic date, you were feeling skinny, whatever. You need to be reminded throughout the day that you are more than this over-caffeinated, unshaven, stinky (yes, I said it) mommy. Don’t get me wrong, being a mom is amazing and your kids will make you smile and you will not be able to imagine your life without them... however, it is a good thing to remember that you are also a fabulous and beautiful woman.
Now, go put on a bra.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Tested
I didn't know how I was going to parent 3 girls under 3 years old. It was a mystery in my mind.
I didn't think I'd be able to take 3 girls three and under into Costco on my own, let alone take Bella "potty" there while watching the other 2 AND my things.
I didn't think I'd get any sleep. It's still not enough, but it's there.
I didn't think I'd be able to shower again, ever. So far this week, I'm going on 2 showers in 3 days time. Pretty good record, for me.
I feel like every day is a test of my limits. I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually tired. I get to the end of the day, and I pray to God that I did something good while I was just trying to survive. I hope and pray that I did not permanently injure my child's psyche when I had a little break-down over stubbing my toe. I hope my kids' intelligence won't be too far diminished by the television I used as a "helper" on the hard days.
What am I saying? Every day is a hard day.
I read a "devotion for mothers" this morning, and it was talking about being joyful. That a negative and critical spirit is contagious (Sorry, Daniel... I've passed my illness on to you. I'm working on it...).
It also said that we as Christians should feel "free" and that our joy ought to flow from that. I'm not sure that Christ himself always had a perky disposition. He was stressed, and a little anxious at times, I believe. He was tested to his limits. I don't know that he was always happy about his Father's will for him, but perhaps he didn't lose his joy that it was all for a purpose he believed in. So I guess the question is, is everything I do for something I believe in? Am I willing to be this exhausted for a little while, in exchange for....
What?
Will my kids even be grateful that their tired and grouchy mother chose to stay home with them? Am I able to give them everything they need from me? Of course, they're being fed, and clothed, and bathed. They are being put to bed at a decent hour, given naps, being held when they cry. They get kissed and hugged, and we brush their teeth and tell them we love them.
We are present. When they cry "mommy" (as disgruntled as I sometimes am), I will be there.
I will be here. I hope that's good enough for now.
I didn't think I'd be able to take 3 girls three and under into Costco on my own, let alone take Bella "potty" there while watching the other 2 AND my things.
I didn't think I'd get any sleep. It's still not enough, but it's there.
I didn't think I'd be able to shower again, ever. So far this week, I'm going on 2 showers in 3 days time. Pretty good record, for me.
I feel like every day is a test of my limits. I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually tired. I get to the end of the day, and I pray to God that I did something good while I was just trying to survive. I hope and pray that I did not permanently injure my child's psyche when I had a little break-down over stubbing my toe. I hope my kids' intelligence won't be too far diminished by the television I used as a "helper" on the hard days.
What am I saying? Every day is a hard day.
I read a "devotion for mothers" this morning, and it was talking about being joyful. That a negative and critical spirit is contagious (Sorry, Daniel... I've passed my illness on to you. I'm working on it...).
It also said that we as Christians should feel "free" and that our joy ought to flow from that. I'm not sure that Christ himself always had a perky disposition. He was stressed, and a little anxious at times, I believe. He was tested to his limits. I don't know that he was always happy about his Father's will for him, but perhaps he didn't lose his joy that it was all for a purpose he believed in. So I guess the question is, is everything I do for something I believe in? Am I willing to be this exhausted for a little while, in exchange for....
What?
Will my kids even be grateful that their tired and grouchy mother chose to stay home with them? Am I able to give them everything they need from me? Of course, they're being fed, and clothed, and bathed. They are being put to bed at a decent hour, given naps, being held when they cry. They get kissed and hugged, and we brush their teeth and tell them we love them.
We are present. When they cry "mommy" (as disgruntled as I sometimes am), I will be there.
I will be here. I hope that's good enough for now.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Being Honest
I couldn't run this morning because I did a super hard-core Jillian Michael's workout dvd on Sunday, and I guess my body is still recovering from that. I didn't even get out of bed on Tuesday to run, and today I got up late. I started to run and I physically was unable. The muscles in my knees still feel completely maxed out. This caused me to settle into a walk and just listen to my music.
It's amazing how a song that I put on my iPod last year while I was depressed and feeling trapped can seem like a completely different song to me today. Being honest with you all (and realizing this is a public blog, but also realizing there is nothing secret about this), I still battle depression. And I've been off my medication for a blur of 3 weeks. My doctor thinks I have something called Bipolar 2, and I tend to agree. I go through rapid-rapid cycling, where I have a day or two of depression, then a day or two of "mania" I guess you can call it, and my "normal" moods are few these days. There's more to it than that, but I'll keep it simple for now. I have been having some moments of clarity lately that have made me decide I really need to be back on meds. My kids don't need this.
So, this song that I put on my iPod used to make me feel so miserable, and I sickeningly continued listening to it, reveling in feeling like a sad victim in my own life. I listened to only part of the song, really, and I must have tuned the other parts out, because I listened to it this morning and it made me smile. Like, really smile. Big grin. I probably looked silly, but it's true. I was really listening to the heart of this song, and I realized life is good, I've made some GOOD decisions about some HARD issues, and I am exactly where I should be. I don't know why a song that made me feel like a loser last year can make me feel like a strong and free woman today, but such is my life. Well, I do have a few ideas as to why, but I'll save that for another post.
Now, I could continue to write, but I couldn't promise it would make any sense. I must go to the coffee. Thanks for reading.
It's amazing how a song that I put on my iPod last year while I was depressed and feeling trapped can seem like a completely different song to me today. Being honest with you all (and realizing this is a public blog, but also realizing there is nothing secret about this), I still battle depression. And I've been off my medication for a blur of 3 weeks. My doctor thinks I have something called Bipolar 2, and I tend to agree. I go through rapid-rapid cycling, where I have a day or two of depression, then a day or two of "mania" I guess you can call it, and my "normal" moods are few these days. There's more to it than that, but I'll keep it simple for now. I have been having some moments of clarity lately that have made me decide I really need to be back on meds. My kids don't need this.
So, this song that I put on my iPod used to make me feel so miserable, and I sickeningly continued listening to it, reveling in feeling like a sad victim in my own life. I listened to only part of the song, really, and I must have tuned the other parts out, because I listened to it this morning and it made me smile. Like, really smile. Big grin. I probably looked silly, but it's true. I was really listening to the heart of this song, and I realized life is good, I've made some GOOD decisions about some HARD issues, and I am exactly where I should be. I don't know why a song that made me feel like a loser last year can make me feel like a strong and free woman today, but such is my life. Well, I do have a few ideas as to why, but I'll save that for another post.
Now, I could continue to write, but I couldn't promise it would make any sense. I must go to the coffee. Thanks for reading.
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