A to Z

  
It isn’t because I am extraordinarily interesting, with stories to share that are amazingly captivating. It isn’t because I’m an ego maniac. At least, I wouldn’t peg myself as one. 

It is because I don’t want to forget. I fear the years will dull what memories are now sharp. When I am older, and when my husband and kids are older, I want to be able to read about our memories; our fun, our touching moments. Silly things. Our challenges–all of it. 

If there is anything I’ve learned, as I age, putting it in writing brings it all back. When I look back at my journals from trips, from high school, college, my experiences: I remember, clearly. Without documenting it, I wouldn’t have that same clarity. 

This blog is my clarity. My real-life as I’ve grown-up and moved on, into Motherhood. It’s my shared space that I look forward to sharing with my children, and that I share with you; all of you fellow Mommies and Daddies, who sacrifice your all, love with all you’ve got, work hard, cry, laugh more and sleep less. We are in it, together, and it’s these stories that help keep us moving. 

Sure, we have Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and a slew of other social media-driven ways to always track our lives. Not to mention, they are entertaining. But, the guts of what we do. The stuff that humbles us, the meaningful meat and potatoes of being a Mommy, or Daddy, of having a family, it’s not captured by social media. 

Life is not always a posed picture, a smiley face emoticon, how many likes, hashtags or number of retweets in our feeds.  

Life is lived outside of our newsfeed. I want that place kept in tact. A place to go back to, to remember life. A place of substance. For me, that place is here.

  
On our recent family vacation, I was sunbathing while my kids napped; a Mommy’s heaven. As I lay there, soaking-up my sun and surroundings, I listened to my nieces. 

Most of their conversation topics were what I would expect of young girls; dolls, school, friends, hair. But what struck me, was how many times they said, “I wish I had…”. 

I wish I had a pony, a puppy. I wish I had a sister and not a brother. I wish my hair was curly like yours. Their chatting was speckled with,”I wish I had”. 

Why do we wish we had something else or something more than what we have? Is it the fault of our making a wish every birthday as we blow out our candles? Maybe that’s the culprit. 

I wish I had the answer. I wish I had all sorts of stuff, too. But, my time spent wishing is usually detracting from time I should be enjoying. It’s the ruminating; the wishing that’s the thief. 

Now, I can’t put a complete strike through it. Sometimes, “I wish I had…” is a good self-motivator, when used effectively. It drives us to want more for ourselves, for each other. 

But, when we wish for unrealistic things, dwell on things we wish we’d done differently, or wish we had things that aren’t attainable, it will only squish our joy. It’ll take what we have. 

So, my final wish, with the exception of blowing out my birthday candles wishes, is that I wish I had all the time back that I spent wishing I had things. 

Go after what you wish you had; within reason. Otherwise, you will be stuck in the muck of “I wish I had”. Maybe you can’t have that unicorn you wish you had. But, chances are, a lot of what you wish you had, you can have.

  
We all are familiar with road rage, but let me explain bubblegum rage. Ironically, bubblegum rage occurs most frequently in the car, where I am trapped with the bubblegum beast. It starts with a matter of fact conversation with my 5-year old who can smell gum. She’s like a drug-sniffing dog. I can’t hide it from her, she knows I am chewing gum. 

Then, we progress into the incessant asking for gum phase. This is where I repeatedly explain gum belongs only 2 places; in your mouth or in the trash. I have explained this many times and have still found the chewed gum under the couch, behind couch cushions, stuck to the car door. I actually fear bringing her to the city because I am fairly certain she would take the disgusting chewed, petrified gum stuck everywhere, take it and chew it. 

My fear is real because there have been times where I didn’t give her gum, but noticed she was chewing it. And, like the gum stuck everywhere, this thought sticks in my mind. 

It ends when I firmly deliver my, “no, you can’t have gum”, in my most stern Mom voice. Her moment of silent dismay quickly moves full throttle into bubblegum rage. Screaming, kicking, as if I’ve denied her something far more serious; a life threatening gum situation. 

At this point, I turn the radio up and try to drown out the bubblegum rage. I’ve learned there’s no point in trying to reason with, calm, or explain why she can’t have gum. Heck, if she’s lucky, maybe she stuck a chewed piece from a couple weeks ago in the cup holder of the car and can just chew that.

Don’t look so surprised that I drove right past you into the parking lot to park my car and head into an event at the restaurant who owns the parking lot. Don’t wave your hands at me and yell, “Hey, hey, this parking lot is only for the restaurant!”. Don’t come trudging towards my car like an asshole, yelling. News flash for you, unkempt man, with your ripped t-shirt iPod and earbuds in your ears, do you think you look like you are employed by the restaurant as a parking attendant? Nope. Especially considering there is not usually a parking attendant, you are immediately suspicious in my mind.
So, of course I have my guard up. I am a female alone, in my car, in a parking lot, and there is no one around, except for you and your weirdness. This does not for one moment cross your mind?
Why on earth would I stop and roll down my drivers-side window to hash it out with you? You look incredulous that I question your authority, that I drive right past you park, keep the car running and only crack my passenger window to yell out to you. The whole ordeal makes me not even want to go into the restaurant. 
Have you ever had a man grab your ass and expose himself to you? Pull a switchblade on you? Have you ever had to run from a situation like that? I am guessing not and that’s why I’m writing this note to you. 
Part of me feels slightly bad for being rude. But, the larger part of me does not. Let me explain why. I went to College in New Brunswick, NJ. The caliber of street folk that I encountered there, and what happened to me, raised my awareness of the true nature of weirdos and how they lurk in the most unlikely of places waiting to prey, especially on young women who are alone. All it took for me was the two frightening experiences I eluded to above, to put me on heightened alert. 
So, sorry incredulous, unkempt man. You will just have to deal. And, idea for you, wear a shirt that has the name of the restaurant that employs you. Otherwise, for safety reasons, I am going to drive right past you and be hesitant, abrupt and annoyed by your approaching my car and your confrontational manner. Don’t take it personally, I have to protect myself. 

  
This is a story about being tired out and poop. After a long day at work, I am pooped. 

When I arrive at home, my kids say, “Hi, Mommy! Can I have a snack? Are we going to the gym?”. They are excited to go to the gym because there is a kid zone, not because they want to do squats or lift weights. At this point, I realize I need to tap into their enthusiasm, immediately, before I progress into lazy mode. 

We head to the gym. I sign the kids into their kid zone. Now, this zone does not change diapers. My son is notorious for timing his poop o’ the day about 10 minutes into my workout. Today I have an especially awesome situation; I came home and there were no diapers left. My son was wearing the last diaper. 

So, like any champion Mom I grabbed a swim diaper I happened to find while rummaging around in my desperate diaper search, and clung to the hope my son could make it through this gym visit without needing a diaper change. As you tenured Mom’s know, swim diapers don’t do shit, except keep floaters out of pools. 

I am on an elliptical machine for 8 minutes, just at that point where I am getting into working out. Then, I see her. The kid zone teacher is on the prowl looking around the floor for a Mom. I hope it’s not me, but I know it’s going to be me. The walk of shame to go change a poopy diaper. 

At least this time the teacher didn’t bring my 5 year old daughter out with her; my daughter who loves to loudly announce, “Spence pooped!” for all the surrounding gym-goers to hear.
I change my son in the gross little Koala area. My daughter likes to hang out in the bathroom with us, as an added bonus. I put him in the swim diaper and I know this is the end of my workout. Unless I want to somehow sneak back out to the gym, only to be found again when he wets his pants since it’s just a swim diaper he is in which will not absorb anything. I opt not to gamble. I’m mentally checked out of my workout at this point, anyway. 

All that effort, and I worked out a total of 8 minutes. I guess that’s better than zero minutes.

  
I am at work. The usual suspects are at play; stress, back-to-back conference calls, unreasonable client demands, unread emails, voicemails. All of the players in this aggressive game are in, ready to zap my energy. 

But, I am subbing out. After years in the game, I’ve learned ways to sub out of these adverse conditions that test me in my every day, to turn inward and focus on what is truly meaningful–cultivating others happiness. 

And, believe it or not, there are ways to achieve this, even in the face of adversity, no matter what your struggle. You can always make someone else happy. No one can take that away from you. Bringing happiness to others will reinvent your game and make you a better player; the most valuable player for your team. 

In fact, finding even the smallest of ways to do this will not only have a profound effect on those around you that you are making happy; you will uplift yourself and the pieces of you that are shattered from the stress of your every day, to refresh, renew and restore your happiness. 

If you have not tried this phenomenon recently, I challenge you to try it. If you’ve forgotten what it feels like because you’re trapped in the snare of your daily stresses; take a deep breath and make your next action one that will bring happiness to someone else. It will reinvigorate you–free you from the negativity. 

Start small scale; buy someone a coffee. Go get a card for someone, just because. Give a coat to a homeless person: Help someone. Then, bask in the glow of the happy moment you created. These acts of kindness become a shared happiness. The more you practice this in your day, the better your day will be. Their happiness will radiate within you. You’ll want to do more. Sharing in others’ happiness is happiness. It is our defense against the stress, anxiety, and aggression of the day. Giving happiness to others is the best gift you can give yourself. 

You can’t control many things, but, you can control your happiness. If you feel happiness is lacking in your day-to-day; sub out. Take a break. Create a happy moment for someone you know, or, someone you don’t know. 

By creating a community of kindness and wishing others to be happy, we bring a strategy to the game that wins, every time. Our soul and psyche reinvigorated to play our best by cultivating happiness in others.

  
Suicide. Our hearts are heavy, today, they will be heavy for the days and years ahead, in this unfamiliar territory. A vibrant young man, my cousins’ son is no longer with us. The distinct aroma of frankincense and roses at his service was overwhelming; as is the loss. His family honored his life at his memorial service. I get teary-eyed thinking about it; sadness for him, for my family, for his friends and all those people whose lives he touched.

There is nothing that you love more than your child. It’s a love that is undefinable, intangible and not understood–even by your own child–try as a parent may to convey that love. In my opinion, based on my experience, you only understand this love once you have a child of your own. That love is powerful, consuming, and thinking about this, makes my heart break.

My cousin, may you be at peace in Heaven, in God’s hands. Be a guardian angel to your parents, sister, family and friends who miss you and will love you, always. I will try my best to watch over your family and provide outlets for whatever support they may need.

I know I am not alone in this mission to do something more, for you, in honor of your life. It cannot be coincidence that I was introduced to the Jordan Porco Foundation for Suicide Prevention, and I plan to reach out to the incredible network of folks that support that foundation and its mission to educate youth, primarily high school and college age kids.

If this blog resonates with you, I encourage you reach out as well.

  
You are an addict. Your kids are addicts. It’s a family addiction. You may not even be aware of your addiction until you spend some time without your mobile device. You’ll feel anxious, like you are missing out on something. The kids find it, steal it from you and will scream and tantrum when you take it away. The kid rant in our house is, “myPhone”!

That slick smartphone beckons you with its alerts, capabilities, music, games, photos, videos, news–it’s your Mecca of media, all conveniently in one place; right at your fingertips.
A device for all ages to enjoy. For the kids, it’s great for learning games, movies for car trips, time for parents to reclaim the TV, quiet time for parents to get something done around the house, parental sanity promoter. But, I have become increasingly aware of how it’s taking away from our family quality time. We are crazy addicted to it. We need a detox.

In our household, we will do our best to minimize the time spent glued to our iPhone screens. But it’s really a tougher task than you’d think. Not to mention, is it tougher for the kids or parents to put the phone away?

Here’s what I do. In the morning, I keep my device out view from my kids. Sometimes this entails hiding it in my sweatshirt. If the kids happen to see my phone, they start barraging me with their demands, “I want minion game!”, “I want to watch a movie!”. I haven’t even gotten out of my room and it’s already spiraled out of control. I lie and say that the phone is dead, the battery needs charging. Then, I do what every good Mommy does and I turn on the TV as my distraction tactic, while I stash my phone in my bag. Then, it’s out of sight, out of mind; for us all.

But, that iPhone always wins. You can’t resist the power it has over you.

I can’t remember something I was so crazy about as a kid. Maybe I loved TV or playing video games in a similar way, but, it was easier to detach since it was not portable. The iPhone is with us, all of the time. So, it takes greater effort to not have it out and in use all of the time.

I’ve also noticed that the phone adds to my anxiety. That sinking feeling like I am missing out on the latest and greatest. It gets me all wound up–about nothing.

But, these are the 2 biggest challenges that are charged by our iPhone addiction:

Patience inhibitor–my kids are extremely impatient. Their fuses are incredibly short and it is tough for them to self-soothe and calm down. Patience is difficult enough to teach kids. The iPhone teaches the opposite of the patience values I’m trying to instill. With the iPhone, everything is available–immediately. In reality, not all things can keep that pace. It’s an unrealistic expectation. Not to mention, the most rewarding things in life do not come at the tap or swipe of a screen. (Unless I am buying something on Amazon Prime)

Disconnect and distance–my entire family can be together sitting on the couch, in a car, at a restaurant, but we are as far apart as ever. We are disconnected and sitting in the same room. No one is talking with each other. My hubby and I are tired from our work day and this is what we’ve become. We are individually engaged in the silent interactions between us and our iPhones and iPads. We are even, at times, smiling back at the glowing screen that’s filling us up. Filling us up with what? Not really with anything of true value. Sure, there is lots of news and fun stuff in that phone. But what’s invaluable that we need to shift the focus back to, and reconnect with, is sitting right on the couch, all together. It is our family. We need to do a better job putting the phones down and picking up the conversations and interactions with each other.

Now, it’s unrealistic to cut out mobile devices entirely and would be silly to suggest, in this day, and age.

I can’t put the phone down. I am just as guilty. In fact, I write my blog from a phone app. I am only suggesting to limit your mobile device time, the best that you can. In the moment that you find it trying to suck you back, to feed your addiction, instead, turn to your kids or husband or whomever, and find something else to do, with each other. While it may at first feel foreign, the rewards will be far more wholesome; your time together with your family is time you will not get back. Be mindful of your iPhone addiction and detox whenever possible by spending more time with your family. I am going to post this, and get back to my family; now.

  
Before you judge my backwards title, think about what should come first.

The ultimate sacrifice; working. Why is this the ultimate sacrifice? Because I am missing moments now, to build a solid future for my kids. Saving up money for them so they have the resources to be whatever they want to become. What a sucky model for a Mommy and her kids, to haphazardly mottle my way through the present, for the future; it’s dumb.

Frustrating is an understatement. I know I have so much more to offer my kids, my husband, my family–right now.

This obsession with promoting work-life balance is really a farce, at least in my situation. First of all, let’s switch it around and get our priorities straight. Shouldn’t it be, life-work balance? Let’s put the more important of the 2–first, not second. My new mantra, life-work balance–my choice to change it up.

In lieu of the shit hitting the fan at work these days, I have to flip flop my priorities or I am really going to come undone and be worthless to everyone, including myself. So, this is my plan. I am putting the following into action. If I fail, I’ll try again. It’s not easy. But, the reward is worth the sacrifice. To live in the now, more holistically with my kids, with my family; that is my everything. Here’s the plan. We’ll see how it goes. My promise is to not be too critical and hard on myself if I fall short.

1. iPhone detox; less time spent browsing and scrolling through news feeds and Pinterest. More time playing with my kids.

2. Exercise; join a gym that will benefit my entire family. One with child care where the kids can play, while Mommy and Daddy take care of our health.

3. Slow the fuck down; there is no reason to do every social thing that crosses my path.

4. Stop trying to clean and organize; this is a pointless activity to obsess over and should not be a top concern because about 5 minutes after feeling accomplished, the house is just a mess all over again.

5. Let it go; yes Elsa actually knows where it’s at. But don’t worry, I won’t be freezing my family. Let it go. I cannot control everything and if I don’t let it go, my anxiety will sky-rocket.

6. Snuggle more; spend more time snuggling with my kids and husband. It’s therapeutic for everybody.

7. Stay in touch; while it seems like an impossibility to keep in touch with my friends. I can at least call to chat, even if it is just 5 minutes.

8. Pamper myself; this one sounds selfish, but, taking care of myself, everyone will benefit from it because I will feel better about myself. Also, pretty sure my husband appreciates when I don’t look like a hobo.

9. Family day; devote one weekend day to a family outing or activity of some sort. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. A day, together. We don’t have enough of them being the majority of days are spent working.

10. Interactive activity; a craft, playing outside, building a fort, painting. Some simple, basic activity that equates to quality time with my kids.

They are only little once. They are only the age they are, once. I want to enjoy them–now. I want to reclaim my family’s quality time through actions promoting life-work balance, and it starts, now.