Cape Lookout

It's a vacation within a vacation. My absolute favorite place in the world.

And hopefully, it's still there Sunday...

A Tragic Loss...

I had a post planned for today.

It was going to be about Big Brother and the comparisons that could be made between the shenanigans on a reality TV show and the whole "Gang of Six" and "Cut, Cap, and Balance" crap going on in Washington.

And then I got an email at work from a friend.

Someone in our community lost her husband yesterday. He was 27 years old. They have a child Jacob's age and a daughter that will be 4 months old next weekend.

Since then, I've been unable to focus on anything except how many frivolous things I get involved with on a daily basis and how much more rich and full my life would be if I put that energy into loving my husband and making our home a calm and peaceful retreat from the stress of everyday life.

If you are the praying type, please send up prayers for this young mother, who now has to make a multitude of decisions about how to move forward from this painful moment in her life.

And if you're not, then give your husband a kiss when you get home, forgive him for the annoying mistake he made yesterday, and be glad that you have him at all.

**If I get any news about memorial funds or anything that can be done for this family, I will post for you all to share. I would prefer to keep her anonymous for now as her blog has not been updated (can you imagine) and I don't know how far into the interwebs she wants this information to travel. Some of you, however, know the story and the names already. If you don't, God will know who your prayers are for.**

Oh, am I Lucky...(WMW Post)

I'm linking up for the first time in a while with Julia and the gang at Working Mom Wednesday. Are you a working mom? Check us out!

As I am not a very good scheduler in the least (you can expect if I say "we'll be there no later than 10" you will see me around 10:30) I have chosen today's second prompt: would you rather have a large salary and crappy benefits or a smaller salary and stellar benefits?

As someone who has been in both positions, I can definitely say "Option B, Alex".

See, before kids I worked in retail management and I did this in some capacity or another for almost 10 years. I was 26 years old, in the mid-2000's, no kids, newly married, buying my first house, making close to 50 grand with no college education. I felt special, as if I had somehow charmed my way into being someone I shouldn't be. (Looking back, obviously I worked hard for that position.) Our benefits were better than most retail companies: I got 3 weeks of paid vacation, 4 personal days a year, and sick time when my store wasn't too short-staffed to manage without me (ok, so I rarely got sick time).

On the other hand, I only got one full weekend off a month, had to work until 10PM twice a week, and some weeks (during floor changes and inventory) worked well over my salaried 40 hours. I had to bow out of last minute weekend trips to the beach and turn down free college football tickets while all of my friends went tailgating on Saturdays. I was beginning to imagine raising a child in all of this and thought we could make it work, but looking back, I am SO GLAD I lost that job. The company has gone through rough times, been bought and sold and their commitment to a "work-life balance" is nearly non-existent at this point.

And then there's my job now. I started at the ground floor, doing a job that a lot of people feel is suited for a retiree or college student, and taking a cut in salary back to what I was making as a 21 year old in my first assistant manager retail position. But as I've learned this new world of banking and all of it's intricacies and regulations and audits, I have fallen in love. Sure, I have the occasional complaint about the battle between salespeople and operational people. Sure, I have clients that sometimes are like a stump in the thick mud I'm trying to navigate. Sure, I occasionally talk my husband's ear off on our commute home at the crazy thing that happened this morning. But overall, I love being able to pack up at 5PM (ish...sometimes 5:30) and head home.

Friday nights have a new meaning: a relaxed family night where we're not as strict on Jacob's bedtime and we don't feel the rush-rush-rush to get dinner made, eaten, baby bathed and in bed within 2 hours of getting home. And I now know the feeling of having the whole (3-day Holiday) weekend stretched out before me, with no mind paid to work whatsoever. I traded in my lovely weekday off for having off Columbus and President's Day, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Veteran's Day, and any other day the Federal Government deems a holiday. I was paid in full for 8 of the 12 weeks I was home on maternity leave for doing absolutely nothing for this company.

The typical benefits are pretty similar to what I was getting in retail, comparable vacation-sick time. Slightly better health benefits (I paid $750 total for my entire pregnancy from the first visit to the surgery to the 6 week follow up.)

But the work-life balance benefits are incomparable. And worth every bit of the $48,000ish (before taxes) that I've "lost" over the last 3 years.

Long Time Coming

I've needed a change. For a while, now. I mean, in most every area of my life. So, let me fill you in on what's been going on with me.

I'm fat. That's been established. I tried to start a "lifestyle change" in January, lost about 8 lbs, then gained 15. Three weeks ago, I was at my heaviest weight ever (not including pregnancy): 248lbs. So I joined myfitnesspal.com and hooked up with some amazingly motivating ladies from a message board I am on, and have lost 9 pounds in 3 weeks. My food diary is public, so the real motivating factor has been me knowing that other people can see what I'm eating. I do not like being judged on weight, especially not when I know it's utterly my fault for looking like this.

What I am even MORE proud of than the weight loss, though, is the fact that I have had fast food only once in the last three weeks, and had a Coke only twice. It's getting a craving, and still making the choice to eat something different when my mind is saying "Godiva chocolate cheesecake" that impresses me. I hate those diet articles in magazines that say crap like "when you want salty chips, eat veggies and hummus instead" or "choose a piece of fruit instead of a chocolate chip cookie". WTF? I don't want a freaking apple, and my body is smarter than that. If I give it nuts and an apple, it's going to cross it's arms and roll it's collective eyes and be all "this bitch HATES me". And then it will rebel.

But it hasn't. I feel more confident than ever that I can make the right choice 85% of the time, and forgive myself and let it go the other 15.

Also, in other news, I'm raising a toddler. And coming off the heels of the 18 months that I was most terrified of, I thought, this parenting thing is going to be so much easier than I expected. Pre-schoolers have always loved me, listened to me, and done whatever I asked them to. Um, yeah right. Schooled me. The last 6 months have been incredibly difficult as I have dealt with feelings of intense mommy guilt, not feeling like a good parent, not being patient enough, not giving my son enough credit for the great things he does, dwelling on the negative, and basically thinking that he would be better off with anyone besides me for a mom.

It's almost been like I caught post-partum depression, 18 months late.

So I started seeing a counselor. And while I won't go into detail, it has so far been so wonderfully freeing to listen to someone tell me that I'm normal, that I don't need to be embarrassed that I have more internet friends than real life friends, and that I should work on not worrying as much about what other people have going on and how it compares to me.

The only thing that has helped me get through this rough patch more than these appointments (other than a supportive husband who has definitely pulled more parenting duty lately to release some of my burden) are 22 of the most amazing women I have ever known. Every day they confirm for me that my child is not a hellion (or at least not the only 22-month old hellion out there) and that we will all get through this. So far it's been 3 years, give or take, that we've "known" each other, and I hope that it lasts a lifetime, whether we ever get to meet in person or not. And even though I tell them this on our page on occasion, I wanted some PUBLIC way to let them know how much they mean to me. You all know who you are, and I thank God every day for that fateful day when a handful of assorted women climbed into a "tub" together and let their guards down.

"Talent is Universal, Opportunity is Not"

Even my cold, dark, anti-socialism Libertarian heart can agree with the title's sentiment. People in all parts of the world, advantaged and disadvantaged, have the talent necessary to change themselves and the world around them. Unfortunately, in some areas, these people are struggling to survive and need a little boost to be able to activate that talent. One of my very best friends in the world works for an organization that helps give the people living in the largest slum in Kenya the means and motivation to do just that.

Goodreads is giving away a wonderful Memoir/Social Activism Manifesto (my words) book called It Happened on the Way to War by Rye Barcott. I recently had a chance to see Rye speak and give a presentation on the book and his charitable organization Carolina for Kibera. The book itself costs $26 in hardcover, a reflection of the $26 loan that Rye gave a struggling nurse to start a vegetable selling business. I have not finished my copy yet, but eventually this nurse turned this $26 (along with help from some others) into a health clinic in one of the poorest parts of the world.

I implore all of you to read this book! No matter where you stand politically, I think we can all agree that helping out our fellow human beings with no expectation of anything in return feels good and right and just, and this book and organization provides me with the drive to want to do more, as much as I can, physically and monetarily to help out people in need. Even if you do not have the means to buy the book or donate to this cause, check out this website: Powerof26.org  and take the 26-day challenge to find out more about what life in Kibera and other slums may be like.

And if you'd like a chance to win the book, please go here to enter the giveaway, there is only one day left! Goodreads.com is an awesome website for anyone who likes to read. You can find new books based on friends and strangers reviews of books they've read, and enter reviews of your own.

Vindication.

Today is quite a day for our American spirit, isn't it?

Last night as we were getting ready to go to bed, just before my husband clicked the power button on the remote, we saw that there was a Special Report coming. Strangely, my husband and I looked at each other as if we knew this was going to be big news. Special Reports come through all the time now...it seems that our media can't get through a regularly scheduled program if something so mundane as Lindsay Lohan leaving a club drunk or the Obamas' dog taking a leak on the South Lawn happens, so typically we just watch with mild interest and little to no expectation that something meaningful has actually occured.

And then we heard. And unexpectedly, tears started rolling. Now, some of my emotional reaction may be attributed to hormones. I am female, I was in that prime week for tears between ovulation and menses, when something as small as the dog deciding to roll in something nasty can send me into a fury that only ends with me crying while bathing her, a sobbing mess.

But the more I mull my feelings over, the more I feel that the tears were an entirely appropriate reaction. I lost no family in 9-11. I have no close family or friends that are active duty military, or even firefighters. But I am American, and I am human. I cried for all of the servicemen and women that have fought for our freedom for so long, and tried to explain to my husband how I felt so proud and happy for them, that they can finally feel as though all of this war has not been futile. We have now killed the mastermind behind the attack that changed so much about our country forever.

And as a Christian, I cried because the feelings of revenge and jubilation at another's lost life are difficult to reconcile. I am not supposed to rejoice over another human being's death, even after hearing him laugh at how the destruction of 9-11 was more than even he had imagined in all of his optimism. This is a man that rejoiced that more lives were lost than even he hoped for. What's wrong with mourning the death of a monster? Mostly, I rejoice because my Faith in Christianity comforts me. It helps me know that when I die, I will not be in the same pane of existence as Osama Bin Laden. Whether he has 99 virgins or the fires of hell, I will not be there with him.

Sadly, a day that all Americans should be enjoying is instead colored by the inane political punditing that follows any big announcement. I prefer to stay out of that fray. To imply any conspiracy theories about this being a political ploy to kick-off President Obama's re-election campaign is ridiculous and asinine. It is also calling our president a liar. That does not sit well with me. Policy-wise, I may disagree with how our President wants our country to be run in 90% of the major decisions to be made, but that does not diminish this important victory that our troops have carried out under his command. And I say shame on anyone who wants to make this about something it's not.

I, for one, and feeling vindicated.

I'm Doing Something Good for a Change!

The March of Dimes is one of those organizations that just work. Who doesn't love babies, right?

I have personal experiences with premature birth. Without the technological advances made possible by the research and development supported by the March for Babies, I wouldn't have my son. Mostly because my husband would not have survived after being born at 32 weeks way back in the 1970's.

I cannot imagine how different my life would be if I hadn't met my husband. I may have never wanted kids, I wouldn't have the awesome network of in-laws that are really just my family as much as my own blood relatives are. I wouldn't have the most hilarious, precocious, prissy 3 year old niece in the world, who makes me laugh the way she loves to boss her little cousin Jacob around. I may have never understood the blinding pain that a loss to premature birth causes for the parents and everyone who already loved a little girl we were waiting to meet.

I am walking this year in honor of all of these things, and I hope that any of you who feel moved donate to help prevent more heartache in the future. You can use the button on the side of my page to donate, and I never see any of your info: your money goes straight to the March of Dimes.

The Whole Debt-Free Thing?

Thank you to TurboTax for sponsoring my writing about household finances.Learn more about how TurboTax can help you find every tax deduction you deserve. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

 Yeah, so back in October my husband and I attended a Dave Ramsay seminar. It was inspiring, it was relevant, it was motivating, and we were going to come home, make a budget, and be debt free within a year. To our credit, we are lucky enough to not carry as much debt as the average American household, but we knew if we didn't change some things we eventually would reach that number.

We had switched back and forth about managing our family's finances for a while, but one thing we had rarely done was sit down and have a budget meeting, and make decisions together. Dave's comments about the roles of the two heads of household and why budget meetings were tough fit us to a tee. My husband makes excel spreadsheets of our income and output, including the amount we pay in taxes and social security, in his free time for fun. 

He also does supernerd things, like this one time when he made himself a fake student ID to get basketball and movie tickets.

I check our balances each week, make payments as I feel like it, and forget our online banking passwords. If you even say "budget meeting" to me I get the hives.

I try to contribute to the family finances in a positive way, too. I am a coupon QUEEN, and love finding good deals. I will not pay more than $2 for a box of cereal or $1 for a pound of pasta. I have a very well stocked pantry, so if we have to go into hiding we'd be okay if we found some clean water.

I have about 4 priorities when I get on the computer for personal use: email, facebook, blog, Amazon. Now and then I might think to Twitter, or shop for bras (that never ends up well), or visit my favorite mommy message board, but I never, ever think "It's time for our budget meeting!"

So, things I like to do to procrastinate on the dreaded budget meeting. Because I am a master procrastinator.

1) Say I want to put a new background on my blog. Since I am HTML-illiterate, this could take upwards of three hours, and is good for multiple excuses.

2) Tell my husband that I couldn't get my blog template to work, so that he spends budget night trying to help me upload a new one.

3) Sign up to be bracket manager for our March Madness pool, and then remind him each night that he needs to get his picks set.

4) Feed my little guy spaghetti for dinner, guaranteeing a bath night.

5) Offer to do laundry for my hubs, and therefore spend multiple hours folding the backlog of clean, wrinkled laundry in the bonus room floor.

6) Make sure there are plenty of back episodes of Kill It, Cook It, Eat It on the DVR.

7) Remind husband that I do occasionally have a blogging deadline, that I procrastinate to the last day (as usual) and I MUST use the computer that night to blog.

I could go on, but I think you get my point!

No, really, next week, we HAVE to have a budget meeting.

And Now We've Cooooommmmeeee....

To the end of the road. And I just can't let go.

No, seriously: and here we are.

Tomorrow morning I will nurse my baby boy for the last time.

Honestly, I think that I am doing pretty well this week: I have cherished each wake-up nurse to the best of my ability, and even though I don't know how much he can understand I have talked LO through them, saying things like "this is your last week of mama milk, buddy, are we going to be ok with that?" He either doesn't understand or couldn't care less: he's much more interested in running to the window and saying full sentences like "There goes the bus!"

Overall, I have an overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment in the bond we've managed to create over the last almost 18-months. Or technically, the last 27 months, as I kind of see breastfeeding as an extension of that "part of each other" bond that started as soon as I began carrying that little zygote way back in November of 08.

I hearken back to a conversation my sister and I had when I was 7 months pregnant. "Are you going to breastfeed?" she asked. "I think I'll try to go until at least 6 months if it works out, but it will be hard to make it after I go back to work full-time." Her response with a sneer: "Why would you only go 6 months? You KNOW 12 months is better!" I'm sure she understands now how frustrating it is to get parenting/pregnancy advice from someone who is not even a parent or pregnant herself, but then I just let it go.

I approached breastfeeding as a good part of our bond, but I had watched too many of my friends beat themselves up when they had a low supply or something prevented breastfeeding from working out for them. So my tactic was "I will try my best, and if it doesn't work out, I'm not going to stress about it." Luckily my guy had a great latch from the first time out of the gate, and I didn't have any issues until I had been at work full time for a few months.

As I got into it and really began to enjoy the ease, the bond, the simplicity of the task of breastfeeding my child, I decided that best case scenario would be for him to self-wean around 18 months. And here we are. Two weeks shy of 18 months and he's no longer asking for it and hasn't batted an eye since his last bedtime nurse two months ago. So it's time for my baby love to be my little boy.

::sigh:: Hopefully I won't be a total hot mess after tomorrow's nursing, but even now just thinking about it is making me cry.

WMW: A twofer

Today, I am participating in both prompts at Working Mom Wednesday. Mostly because I find number one awesomely intriguing and way better than the second, in the scheme of things that matter. But also because I've had it out for Courtney Mazza for a few weeks now.

Yes, I admit it, I am being a judgy breastfedding Nazi. And I don't care if you know. The whole celebrity pregnancy/celebrity raising children thing just befuddles/fasinates/infuriates me on a regular basis. I wish I could sort out who actually does the cooking, cleaning, raising in their household, and who has nanny times 3 to do most of that so that they can come and go into their children's lives exactly as they please. I am very, very lucky to have so much family in the area, and I know some moms are either jealous or judge me for having date nights or adult-outing nights (sans Jacob) at least monthly because we have 3 sets of grandparents as well as an aunt and uncle that are always offering to babysit. But I see some of these celebrity parents going out 2 or 3 nights a week.

What disgusts me even more, is Courtney Mazza (Mario Lopez's baby mama) touting her use of some diet pill to lose her baby weight. First of all, this thing contains Hoodia, which has not been researched enough to gain widespread medical approval for use in weight loss products. It can be a really dangerous substance, even though it's "all-natural". Second of all, her baby is like 6-months old. Why the need to get back into her size-0 jeans so fast? Shouldn't she be concerned with her daughter's health and well-being before worrying about if Mario's eye is straying to a younger, skinnier model yet? (Oh, that's right, kid's fine...nanny's taking care of her.) Third, (and this is where I have to enter my judgy-mom disclaimer) it's obvious that she's not breastfeeding, because that crap she's putting into her body is in no way safe for the possibility of passing it through breastmilk to her daughter. The thing that bother's me the most is that by proclaiming this substance as an ideal alternative to being healthy and losing weight the right way, she is encouraging new moms to run out and buy a dangerous substance to take to lose weight. If they are breastfedding, this is dangerous is so many ways to mom and baby, not to mention the fact that new moms have enough trouble trying to find the time to eat: who needs an appetite suppressant? I seriously worry that new moms will not take in enough calories to sustain the energy to care for their newborn.

Ugh. Rant over, I'm stepping off my soapbox now to bring you a letter from my son.

Dear Mama,

Even though I love it when you let me sleep late on the weekends, and even though I went to bed late last night and only got to sleep for 10 hours, as soon as you walk in I am going to jump up and greet the day. I know you and daddy aren't morning people, so I don't know where I got this energy from, but I love mornings in our house!

It was still dark this morning, and even though it was cloudy, when you opened my blinds and let me look out I tried to tell you that the moon is still out there. I know it is. But that doesn't matter, because it was time for my mama milk, and I got to cuddle with you while you whispered that this was the most relaxing part of your day. I like when you get my blanky out of the crib and wrap it around us. I feel so close to you, mama.

Thanks for reading my favorite Hippopotomus book, too. Since I went to bed late I didn't get to read it last night, so when I asked for a "buh" and pointed to it this morning, I was hoping you wouldn't tell me we didn't have time.

I know you worried about me when I played with the ABC Puppy by myself in the bonus room. You asked if I was coming to your room while you got dressed and seemed surprised when I said "no", but you let me hang in there in the dark with my puppy. It's ok that I'm independent, mama. I still love your cuddles when I feel like it. I'm just a cool dude who is okay sitting in a dark room across the house from you sometimes.

And I miss being around you while I'm getting dressed, but that is my fun time with daddy, and he touches my belly and makes me laugh because it's tickly, and I love when he tells me what a big boy am I because I took the arms of my "supersuit" pajamas off all by myself. It's our time, mama, and it's worth being away from you when I see daddy notice that you spent that time straightening your hair and he tells you it looks pretty.

As much as I love you guys, I love riding to school reading my Barney the Backhoe book and copying the sneeze and cough noises y'all make in the front. And I love when you put me down in front of my classroom and let me walk in by myself. Don't worry about me while you're working. I have so much fun with my friends, eat seconds at snacktime, and my teachers are so nice, but I always remember that you will be there at the end of the day to get me.

Love,
Jacob.

Behind Her Walls...

I just finished what quickly became one of the best books I have ever read. It was very tough at times to get through it, as a woman and as a mother, and there were nights I put the book down and cried myself to sleep because I was so invested in the lives of the women in the story.

Although I have been an avid reader from a very young age and I have an active enough imagination to slip into the world of a lot of books I read, rarely does a book affect me this way.

I should also backtrack and point out that I have read several books by American authors of Middle Eastern descent, and the writing is always astounding to me. These are people who speak my language secondly, yet the way they have with words is beyond any imagery I could create.

"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini was on my Christmas list after I read "The Kite Runner" a few years ago and loved it. I knew I would enjoy the book, but I had no idea that as a free Christian woman, I would become so involved with the characters and the storylines. I'm not meaning this to be a book review, and I hate giving spoilers, so I will just wrap up with the thought that this book taught me so much about human nature, as well as how lucky I am to live in this society, in this time and age, when elsewhere in the world women and families are forced to make unimaginably heart-wrenching decisions every day.

Even better, at the end of the book was an answer to the questions that hung around in my subconcious as I was reading: How can I help the people who are living this devestation? And since my goal is to highlight 12 worthy charities in 2011, it is only fitting that I begin with the Khaled Hosseini Foundation. January is even more fitting a time to donate to this organization, as somewhere in Afghanistan a family is struggling to stay warm in a makeshift tent with temperatures of only 19 degrees. Right now, one of these mothers' children the same age as my son is suffering from starvation and clinging to life, while I complain that Jacob's runny nose and cough caused him to wake up at 11PM suddenly, interrupting my viewing of "The Bachelor".

No matter what position in life you are, if ever person who reads my blog only donates $10, we will likely have enough to provide shelter for a family this winter. What could make your January more warm and fuzzy than that?

WMW: I Challenge Myself to Enjoy a Holiday

People keep asking me "How was your Christmas?" And I'm not quite sure how to respond. I think mostly I feel guilty, and I must move past that, like yesterday.

The truth is, I didn't enjoy Christmas this year. I tried to force myself to, and I had my moments like the Friday night date shopping with my husband and stopping for cupcakes at a downtown shop afterwards that were absolutely memorable, but overall, I felt so stressed, so overwhelmed, and so let down by the weather that I just couldn't move past it.

I think I set up a lot of expectations for my son's first "real" Christmas (he was 4 months old last year) that I forgot all about just letting myself enjoy the season, no matter what traditions we accomplished. I really wanted to take my son to go see lights this year, but every weekend it rained or snowed, which is in no way normal for NC and really thrw a kink in our plans. I'm sure we could have figured out a way to go on a weeknight, but December was a tough month at work as well. Demands and goals and expectations have changed, and lately it has not been the kind of job where I can "take off early" one afternoon on a whim.

I also was excited to put our Christmas tree up, but again, with the weather, we never got around to it and the last weekend we were left staring each other, saying "it's not worth it to go through all that effort for one week". So my sweet toddler did not have a tree in his own home. Santa had to leave his presents laid out on the couch. My husband at least managed to dig out our stockings, so that was a tradition left unharmed. (Sidenote, kind of gross: apparently at some point in Dec 2009 my son spit up on a corner of his stocking...ewwww...what a surprise!!!)

We also started some new traditions of sorts: we attended the Christmas Program at our church, and invited our closest friends and their kids over for a spaghetti/Festivus gathering. I hope that these will be added to our busy Christmas event season, because I actually enjoyed them so much.

Jacob's nap schedule threw a kink into our plans as well: we ended up showing up anywhere between 30 minutes and 2 hours late for our family events. I'm not even kidding: we made it to exactly 2 out of 6 actually on time. This is not what I want to be known for. I also stress-ate my way through the holidays. I am not lying when I say I gained almost 10lbs since Thanksgiving.

Despite all of this, I feel very blessed to have a healthy, loving son who was the life of the party all December, a wonderful husband who has been my equal partner the last few months when it comes to childcare and getting everything done, amazing family on both sides of our marriage, a home, two jobs, two cars that run, and plenty of good food.

And my challenge this year to myself is to let these things go. I have to get past trying to get everything perfect. I stress so much, that I spend valuable time worrying about stress and what I have to do next that I forget to just live in the moment and enjoy it. Even if the kitchen is dirty. Even if I don't have a plan for dinner. Even if I shouldn't be taking a 10-minute break to blog because I have a deadline at 5PM that I cannot miss today.

To quote my friend Candy, this year, I will own you.

(Prompted by Working Mommy Wednesday. Please join us, it's FUN!)

This Proves My Legitimacy, Right?

You know, a legitimate wordsmith, reader, literary soul?

Two things: number one, I got a book reader for Christmas. How exciting is that? My mom just bought it for me without asking, and when I opened it she said "have you ever thought about getting one of those?" Well, not really, because they're so ungodly expensive that I just figured that was not something I would put on any list to ask someone to buy me. But now that I have it, I'm so excited for the possibilities.

It would have helped me avoid the debacle I currently find myself in. The one where I'm sitting at work, alone, for 2 hours because we got 8" of snow and apparently I'm the only person in my office that A) has a 5-speed Mazda that can handle anything, B) didn't make the boss' list of people to call to inform we were on delay, and C) didn't feel like digging around to find the emergency voicemail number to find out for myself.

Also, my secret plan was to escape for 2 hours by myself and read one of my new books (or a tabloid mag) at Barnes and Noble, Starbucks bought with a giftcard in hand. I really mean this was my plan, to show up at work, see if anyone was there, and then backtrack 2 miles to B and N and just enjoy my own company, ALONE, after the hubbub of the past 5 days.

Except that sitting in an iced over parking lot, phoning the bookstore to find out they didn't open until 10 threw a wrench into that plan, so that didn't happen either. Oops. So you get a long overdue blog post, totally on the fly, instead.

*Sidenote: to anyone who was actually reading my "12 Days of Christmas" posts, I do still intend to highlight a charity each week from now until I've run out of places to give my money to. I just assumed that no one was reading it due to lack of comments, and also my life exploded with work stress and Christmas prep all at the same time, so I kind of just lived blog-free for a while.*

But the second reason that proves I am bookworm? My son has my genes. Through and through. After receiving a myriad of presents, most of which light up and sing to him, including a mini 4-wheeler and a life-size tool bench, he cried at bedtime last night over one toy. A Book. My dear, sweet, 16-month old budding wordsmith cried because I would not let him take his new favorite book to bed with him.

It may have been the proudest I have ever been as a mother.

The 12? Days of Christmas

This morning as I stopped to get my biscuit-and-iced-coffee combo that I can't seem to resist this time of year, I found myself wishing I could do more for people who need it.

Let's face it, at a time when work has more pressure, days seem to fly by at warp speed, and money is, well, inflating at a rate so high that I wonder sometimes when we need to seriously consider selling our home and buying a smaller one just to keep up, doing good just seems to fall by the wayside.

So from now until Christmas, I will try to use my blog to focus on what little good I can do, and pay it forward, hoping to inspire my 100 or so readers to do squeeze a little more do-gooding out of those hard to reach places. (And then in January, I will be very excited to give you guys a terrific giveaway that will get you laughing and be the perfect antidote to the rush and/or doldrums of December, wink wink. Sorry in advance, it's not chocolate.)

Today, I will share with you two people in my life that inspire me to do more. Both of their names start with B, but only one is "out" on the internet, so I'll refer to the first as simply "Belle". Belle works in a daycare, which is inspiring in and of itself, has a son close to the same age as mine, but she also volunteers at the Ronald McDonald House frequently (I guess she can't get enough children...we should all take a page from that book!) I cannot tell you how much this amazes me. As a working mom, I struggle all the time with how much time I have to spend with my son. I cannot imagine giving up any of my precious time with him to go care for other families, but then on the other hand don't you always see me talking about how easy I have it? These Ronald McDonald House families do NOT have it easy. (Except at the RMH, of course).

And then my other friend, "Blair" (I'm sure y'all have probably heard of her, she's kind of a big deal. In my eyes, at least) has also worked with RMHC and even has a page of her blog dedicated to them. She inspires me because she runs 5Ks. I mean, she inspires me because she runs at all, but especially doing it for charity. More than once. (And she inspires me because she ate a salad at lunch today and convinced me to order one, too, and then she didn't even finish her fries. She's practically a martyr.) She was the first person who pointed out to me that those convenient little boxes right under where you pay at the Mickey D's drive through actually collects money for RMH. Der. I don't know what I thought they were for before, but now every time I drive by I make sure to dump my change in there, and even if I'm not paying cash that day, I at least check the console and wallet to see if I have spare change lying around.

So, today I am paying it forward. I can't do much. But I can darn sure throw my spare change in a jar, and if all 100 of us did that every time we go to McDonald's in 2011, I'd be willing to bet that we could pay for the electricity in one of those beautiful houses for a month. (Well, if y'all go to McDonald's as often as I do, we could.)

Please consider donating time or money to this wonderful organization. I hate to think of it, but if I EVER have to put my dear, precious child in a hospital, I want to know that I can stay nearby and be there at the crack of dawn, freshly showered and fed, and stay until they kick me out. If nothing else, click on my links for RMHC and maybe you'll be inspired to do something worthy with that loose change you hate finding in the floorboard. These families need a little joy and inspiration not only at Christmas, but the whole year.

Thanksful Every Day

One of the things I struggle most with is feeling like I deserve it.

It doesn't matter what "it" is...just any extra little blessing that falls my way, I feel that I almost don't deserve it, with my snarkiness, profanity, selfishness, and complaining. But I know that someone up there thinks I am deserving, and is rewarding me.

Joining up with Working Mommy Wednesday today, I am beyond thankful for the last year.

For the people I have reached out to that have reciprocated in developing these wonderful internet communities where I don't have to feel like "the only one".

For the new things my beautiful, witty, silly child learns every day. He can tell the dog "OK" now when it's time for her to eat. He freely gives hugs and kisses and cries when he leaves his grandparents and shares his lovie with his friends at daycare. I cannot even explain how many ways I am thankful for that little 15 month old wonder. He fills our lives with laughter. Every day.

For my family, mom, dad, sister, a various group of in-laws that have never been anything but loving and supportive and make me know I am a part of their families. For my aunts and uncles and cousins that are more than just "see you at the 3 major holidays each year" kind of family.

For being employed, having health insurance, a house to live in, and two cars that work. (knock on wood).

For living in NC, a beautiful state where I can wear cropped pants and keep my windows open even in November.

For Dave Ramsey and his program to help us live debt free and save money for what we want to do instead of "have fun now, pay later". Once that light clicked on for me, there was no question on the goals we want to accomplish.

For the teachers at daycare who tell us almost daily that we have the most loving little boy they've ever known, and who care for him the same way I would.

For God answering my prayers, even when I don't want to know the answer.

Crying Over Spilt Milk...

So, as part of our life-improvement movement, I have joined two of my favorite lady bloggers in a Bible Study series.

I am a Christian, and although I accepted Christ once at a young age, I have the feeling that because of the damage I did in college and my young twenties denouncing Christ and his place in my life, I believe that my true "salvation moment" did not happen until just over a year ago, as I held my 5-day old miracle in my arms and prayed.

Since then, it hasn't always been rainbows and sunshine and ra-ra-rah...I still get stressed and I still yell and I still cuss and I'm still not perfect, but as my best friend told me way earlier this year, I seem settled and at peace, which I was not when she knew me 10 years ago. I was wild and free and ready to take on anything, but with that wild and free came an unhinged, out-of-control feeling.

I am slowly finding my way into being a true Christian, which means only praying and learning from God exactly what he holds for me in life. I can pray with the best of them, and I do it multiple times a day, but usually the best place to find God's answers to those prayers is in His Word. And I'm no good at reading the Bible on my own.

So D over at Unpolished Parenting is heading up a casual Bible Study for those of us that want to find some of those answers. So far, Julia with Work Wife Mom Life has joined us, and we're excited to get started. The devotional guide we are using is Linda Vujnov's Spilt Milk: A Devotion for Moms. It looks perfect, with it's cheeky cover of a bowl of Froot Loops (no, really, that's the way they are spelled...I just found out this year).

If anyone wants to join us, email D at unpolishedparenting@gmail.com.

October 15

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Even if you've never suffered a loss yourself, I'm sure that you know someone who has, and it is devastating.

Just before I conceived Jacob, I had what doctors believe was a Chemical Pregnancy. To recap, basically my body thought it was pregnant and exhibited all of the signs and hormones needed to house a fetus. When I started bleeding just before my scheduled OB appointment, I freaked out. And when I took a test at the doctor and got called in to sit down with my OB, I already knew the news she would give me. At the time, being childless and yearning for a baby, worried that this was the start of a long, drawn-out fertility battle, this felt almost harder to me than a real miscarriage.

There were no answers, and nothing even really to mourn. How could I explain to people when they asked me that I felt like I lost a child even though there was likely never a child there to lose?

Of course, I now know how much more difficult it is to have a miscarriage. I can console myself with the fact that I did not lose an actual baby, and that if that had been a child I would have never had Jacob roughly 10 1/2 months after sitting in that doctors office and mourning the loss of a pregnancy.

And I know that because I have had friends and family members that have suffered the loss of a child through miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, and other afflictions.

So today I do not remember my own loss, but I do remember the loss of my niece. It is not my story to tell, so the only detail I will share is that her gestational age was 21 weeks, and although I never got to meet her, I will always remember her. And tonight, I will light a candle in her memory, and the memory of so many others.

Working Mommy Wednesday: Pushups? FML...

(*Disclaimer: I know that what FML stands for is not befitting of the Christian example I am trying to set and follow, but I just discovered the phrase and you know what? It fits. Jesus is the only perfect one, the rest of us are just trying.*)

I open Julia's prompt today and see a post about PUSHUPS. Really? I'll have to admit, I was pissed. First of because I used to be able to do pushups, the strong-man kind, back when I could also do a split and call myself a dancer, but now I must resort to the wall-kind or the knee-kind, if I am even attempting them at all. Which makes me feel like a fat cow. Second, because even with my newfound discovery of SparkPeople, my commitment to eating better, taking in more water, and trying to be less sedentary, the last thing I want to do is turn my blog into diet central. Luckily, her reasons why and how to do push-ups provided me with a goal: 20 a day for the rest of the month. This is great because I can't commit to walking every day, but I can commit to 20 pushups and walking at least 3 days a week. And small, attainable goals are good.

And then I continued reading and noticed that today's prompt is actually just a Top 10 list. Man, I LOVE me a Top 10 list, from David Letterman all the way to my blog friend Kelley, Top 10 lists are AWESOME. And I wish that mine was going to be just that awesome, but I guess since I have free reign and I don't want this to be about being healthy, I will take this moment to return to the roots of this blog and make a list of my Top 10 Favorite Things About My Son.

10) He is a genius. I mean, I know every mom says that about their kid, but what 13-month old do you know that can say "go-gurt" to his daycare teacher every day at 4:30 because he knows it's snack time and he's about to get his favorite. thing. ever. Or how about how yesterday he was "reading" his Maisy's Favorite Toys book in the car and turned to the page with the Tractor and Train on it (vehicles with wheels) and shouted "CAR"? Can your baby do that?

9) He chooses edamame over grilled cheese. Now I KNOW he nees to fatten up, but you have to appreciate a child who learns early to love his veggies. (This will come back to bite me in about 3 months when he suddenly starts to refuse to eat anything green.)

8) He still is an open-mouth kisser. Even though we're starting to get just the teensy-weensiest bit self-conscious about this in public, there's nothing cuter than when you say "can I get a kiss?" and his little toddler mouth comes towards you wide open and raring to go and plants a big smacker on your lips.

7) Except maybe sitting on the floor next to each other while brushing your teeth. We got the grins and giggles toothbrush not long ago and his little fingers wrapped around that fat little toothbrush is so adorable I want to die.

6) He is totally fearless (and reckless). This guy loves to climb anything, and his favorite game is getting on the couch or bed and throwing himself against the pillows. Sometimes I swear he's going to fly right off.

5) He already knows to look up to older kids. He follows his nearly 3-year old niece around like she is the best thing in the world (I mean, I can't blame him) and has so much fun playing with older kids.

4) But he'd still rather play with Mama or Daddy any day. His new favorite thing is to bring us a book, yell "BUH", and let us read about 2 1/2 sentences before grabbing it, and closing it while saying "ALL Done."

3) The kid loves to be naked. After his bath, he will play "catch me if you can" as long as possible, and there is nothing I love more than chasing a naked toddler around the upstairs part of the house, especially if he leaves the hooded towel on like a superhero cape.

2) He makes me better. I want to be more patient, I want to cook more nutritious meals, I want to exercise more, and I want to spend more time with my family (immediate and extended) because of him. He led me back to God and Christ. What could be better?

1) His laugh can change whatever I'm feeling into pure joy. Seriously, when that little sweet blondie smiles at me with love, what do I have to be angry/stressed/upset about? Absolutely NOTHING!

Thanks to anyone who joined up from Working Mommy Wednesday, and feel free to join us today or any time!

I'm Not Who I Claim to Be...

A rare Saturday confession...

I've been struggling a lot lately, with the fact that I am struggling. It seems counterproductive to being a good mom/wife/person/Christian that I have the luxury of being the first person awake in my house on a Saturday at 8:45AM yet I can complain that I am always busy and have too much going on to breathe. I have it SO EASY compared to my mother, who had me just before she finished nursing school and had to take care of the house, the baby, and find time to study. Or so many others out there who have gone through a separation with their baby's father and have to do it all on their own. Or the parents whose children have had to endure medical issues, multiple doctor visits, surgeries, and complicated feeding schedules.

And now I must confess: I am lazy. I have motivation issues. I am obese. I don't take care of myself or eat right (damn Starbucks for re-introducing that Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate this fall...). And I desperately want to change that. Finally, I feel that I am making a commitment I can follow through on.

The time is right: October is my absolute favorite month, and this October began for me with a 3-day weekend and the most beautiful fall weather you could imagine. I joined a work-sponsored wellness program that starts at work on Monday. I am starting a new home-party business with Scentsy (more on that in a couple of weeks with a giveaway) that motivated me to get my house company ready since I've invited oh, about 50 people over in 2 weeks. And this new drive has caused a sort of pay-it-forward morning for me.

I got up and began preparing breakfast for my family, when usually I lie in bed until the last possible second on Saturday and then bring Jacob in to nurse while hubby goes downstairs to cook. After breakfast, we had wonderful family time playing for an hour or so and then we let Jacob play on his own while we started dusting and cleaning the clutter out of our living room. I think starting to clean before he was down for his nap really drove me to do more. I usually wait until he's asleep, get on the web for a while, sip my coffee and watch College Gameday, and then clean for a half hour or so.

Now, I have clean baseboards, doors, the top of the fridge, a dusted, vacuumed, and mopped kitchen and living room, and significantly reduced clutter. My nearly 3 hours of work possibly burned my sensible breakfast's calories, and my ensuing cool shower was better for my hair, skin, electric bill, and possibly even environment than my usual 15 minute hot ones.

I'm using the rest of my "me" time effectively by sending out e-vites for my Open House and getting ready for a family gathering.

And my underwear even matches my shirt.

Who is ready for a whole new me?

The Hardest Part of Hump Day

Thought that title might get me a few google-link views.

Just kidding...It's Working Mommy Wednesday!

And since I'm all reciped out (although I may let the hubby guest blog his INFAMOUS baked bean recipe sometime soon) I guess I am going with topic number 2, the hardest part about being a mom. Wow. When I've managed to escape what I feel the real tough tests of parenting are (sleepless nights, PPD, developmental issues, major illnesses) it feels like of asinine for me to complain about any part of parenting. After all, I signed up for it. I knew going in what to expect.

But what I could NEVER understand, despite the millions of warnings, are how fast time would fly. It's been a week since his first birthday and I have a walking, pointing, sort-of talking toddler (to brag for a moment, his pediatrician told us that his language skills are well past a typical 12-month old's). It seems like just yet=sterday that we had a snow day in February where we all sat around in our pajamas until 3PM and the baby took a 1 1/2 hour nap on my shoulder.

The most difficult thing about this time-flying-phenomenon is how as soon as I get used to the "normal" of one stage, it seems we are on to the next, and our whole parenting philosophy, routine, and feeding style changes all at once. Like, when I was home on maternity leave and I wished for just one nap a day where I could put the baby in his crip instead of holding him. When I finally got to the point where I relished soaking up all his loving cuddles, he decided that he would rather put himself to sleep alone in his crib after all. All those months I spent wishing for a self-soother, and just like that I had one, with no more mid-morning naps in my bed. And now I would give anything to hold my two month old for a day and smell his sweet smell and just do nothing but love on him.

For now, I have learned my lesson. Despite the difficulties, I will enjoy each stage we're in at the time, because I now know that as soon as I get used to the independent distance and tantrums, he will flip the switch and be climbing into my lap and saying "I love you mama," and it will be even sweeter