Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts

1.31.2016

My family answered those 13 Facebook questions about me

I'm sure you've all seen those questions on Facebook that you are supposed to ask your child(ren). You post their answers and truth and hilarity ensue.

I asked my family, including my husband, and their answers were cute, interesting, and truthful as promised. Because there are so many answers, I'm posting them here.

My Family (all males):
Edgie, 4 years old
Lil' C, 8 years old
Knox, 10 years old
Slim, 12 years old and on the autism spectrum. (At first he answered all questions as "This is not fun. This is boring." He eventually got in on the action.)
Hubby, 45 and has known me since we were 8.

My commentary is in green.


1. What is something I always say to you?
E, S, & H: I love you.
LC: Do your chores and don't be mean to your brother.
K: Take Hannah (our dog) outside.
All are true!

2. What makes me happy?
E: When I pick up my toys.
LC: Me being kind to my brothers and helping you.
K: When we give you a nice big hug.
S: Me making fart jokes. (It's true, I can't resist a good fart joke.)
H: Blogging.

3. What makes me sad?
E: When I don't pick up my toys.
LC: Sad movies.
K: When I disobey you.
S: When I don't listen to you.
H: Thinking about Joey. (I'm surprised the boys didn't say this.)

4. How do I make you laugh?
E&K: When you tell me a joke.
LC, S, & H: When you make fart noises. (I'm a mom of boys. I've had a lot of time to perfect this.)

5. What was I like as a child?
E: You had lots of brown hair.
LC: Nice, kind, and you liked school.
K: You were someone who had to have your sister walk you downstairs to the bathroom because you were scared. (True story)
S: You liked Barbie dolls.
H: Quiet, nice, and a good reader.

6. How old am I?
E: 1, 2, 3, 4, . . .I don't know!
LC, K,&S: 45
H: 46 (after a glare from me because my birthday is not until May) 45.

7. How tall am I? 
E: 100 feet tall.
LC: Not that tall. Knox is almost taller than you.
K: 5 feet, 11 inches.
S: About 5 feet tall.
H: 5 feet, 4 inches. (I'm really only 5'3".)

8. What is my favorite thing to do?
E: Play with me.
LC: Read books and watch Friends. 
K&H: Blog.
S: Be nice to me and watch Friends. 

9. What am I really good at?
E: Hopping on one foot. (?)
LC: Cleaning and folding laundry.
K: Blogging.
S: Memorizing lines from Friends. 
H: Writing.

10. What is something I'm not good at?
E: Standing on one foot. (?)
LC&S: I can't think of anything you're not good at. (They win today!)
K: Playing Star Wars trivia. (Not true.)
H: Being on time. (SO true!)

11. What do I do for a job?
E: Substitute teach and take Hannah outside.
LC&K: Substitute teacher, blogger, and writer.
S: You make money by writing blogs. (I wish!)
H: You are the CEO of the Frog Family.

12. What is my favorite food? 
E: Broccoli and salad.
LC: Broccoli.
K: New York style veggie pizza.
S: Broccoli and Brussels sprouts.
H: Pizza and chocolate. (I do like broccoli, but this is more true.)

13. What do you enjoy doing with me?
E: Hugging you.
LC: Going to fun places like the zoo and the pool.
K: Going on a walk.
S: Making fart jokes with you.
H: Going out to dinner alone.

Wanna get to know more about me? Follow me on Facebook and sign up for my monthly newsletter. (Please?)









7.06.2015

Happy People Take Risks

A high school teacher I admired once said, "Happy people take risks."

Maybe it's because I've never been a risk taker, or maybe it's because I've never had an abundance of confidence, but being happy and taking risks never went hand in hand for me.

I think I thought if I did take a risk, it would fail miserably and then I would be miserable. That's a heck of a way to live life, right?

I'm mulling over all of the things that I've missed out on by not taking risks here on Good Housekeeping. Pop over and share your thoughts. Are you a risk taker? If so, how does it usually turn out for you?










6.23.2015

The Stuff of Life - Memories of My Childhood Home

My parents have been married for 50 years. That’s quite an accomplishment in any day and age. To have both made it to their seventies healthy and still going strong in their relationship is something to be celebrated.

They hosted an anniversary party last weekend for themselves at the house they have lived in for forty-nine years. Until I was married myself, it was the only home I had ever known except for a smattering of college dormitory rooms. At one time it was a small, simple home with only two bedrooms and one bathroom in the basement.


Shutterstock.com photo


My older sister and I were housed in the attic; though we mostly slept in the living room since the attic was too warm in the summer and too cold in the winter. When I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I would wake her and make her walk me down the two flights of stairs to the spider-filled basement. At almost 50 years old, she still teases me about it.

There was barely enough room in the kitchen for my mom to cook. When not in use, our table was against the wall. When pulled out, she couldn't open the oven.

There was only one room for all five of us to gather. I don’t remember any of us minding; that is, until teenage privacy kicked into gear. By the time my brother and sister had moved out and moved on, my parents had some money saved to build extra rooms onto the house. They made our living room into a dining room, remodeled the basement, and added on an extra living space and bathroom just in time for me to leave for college.

We all still gather there in that tiny home; only now instead of five of us, there are seventeen – even more if the grandkids bring special friends. For the past eleven seasons of Christmases and Easters, I have been chasing my own small children in that home, pulling out toys and crayons and coloring books that I used as a child. My brother, sister, and I often comment about how “Mom is still using the same holder for Dad’s toothpicks,” the little ceramic donkey with the basket where its back should be.

We talk about childhood memories – how on hot summer nights we used to “make a raft” on the living room floor, a bed of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals on which we could sleep. We talk about the one rotary telephone we used to have, its cord stretched to three times its length in the user’s attempt to find some place for a private conversation in our tiny non-private home.

I have nothing but happy memories there. I loved my house until I got into high school and realized that other people lived in big homes where they could have their own bedrooms and possibly even their own bathrooms. Other people had rec rooms in the basement where they could host slumber parties and hang out with friends. They had kitchens big enough for everyone to have a meal without bumping into one another. I never knew what I was missing until I saw what others had.

Before my parents’ anniversary party, I helped my mother clean and prepare for guests. She gave me the simple task of dusting. As I went about the house with the dust rag, moving nick-knacks and tchotchkes, I began to see my childhood home with new eyes.

I picked up the delicate little donkey that held my father’s toothpicks and smiled. I unearthed some of my favorite puzzles and games from the back of the basement closet with the delight of a seven-year-old child (I knew I had more dusting to do, but I really wanted to put that Happy Days puzzle together again). I lovingly dusted around our entire collection of Little House on the Prairie books and tried to remember just how many times I read each of them.

It took me until I was an adult with my own children to realize what a good life I had growing up. Though it was simple, we never wanted for anything. We never had any less than we needed or any more than we wanted. And today, I appreciate it all. I often wonder, in this world of excess we are living today, if my boys will appreciate everything they have. Probably not until they are in their forties and helping me clean my house.

By the time we were done, my parents’ house was as neat as a pin and ready for guests to arrive.  “It looks junky, doesn't it?” my mom remarked as we stood back to survey our work.


“No,” I replied, “it looks like you have had fifty years’ worth of a very good life here.”

My wonderful parents. A wonderful 50 years. 




1.12.2015

I hope my second chances never run out

I'm a Monday person. Everything starts over on Monday. It's a new week, a new chance to do better and be better. Why wait for the new year to make resolutions? I make them at the beginning of every week.

I'm going to exercise. 
I'm going to drink a green smoothie every day.
I'm going to be more organized. 
I'm going to be a better mom and a better wife.
I'm going to cook more meals.
I'm going to go to sleep at a decent hour.
I'm going to have a plan for writing. 

I'M BASICALLY GOING TO DO ALL THE THINGS AND ROCK THEM!

And then the week gets going and, well, "the best laid plans" and all that garbage . . .

One huge plan I had was "no yelling in the new house." That was for all of us. We'd been yelling a lot before the move.

Guess who was the first person to yell in the new house? The Mommy who brought her stress with her, that's who.

But as I unpack one box after another, I'm doing better and my stress is dissipating. I'm taking the second chance that has come to me. I believe in second chances, even though I'm a stubborn, bull-headed Taurus.

As a teacher and as a mom, I've always given kids second chances. It's inevitable that they are going to make impulsive or even uninformed decisions that lead to poor choices. They are still learning, and it's my job to teach them.

But what about myself? Shouldn't I know better? Shouldn't I know that when I stay up late with the intention of writing or searching Pinterest for new recipes that I am so tired I just end up either falling asleep on the couch or zoning out on HGTV? And then the next day I am so crabby that I snap at everyone?

Shouldn't I know by now that when I exercise I feel great and energized, and when I binge eat Oreos my digestive system is really pissed off at me the next day? Shouldn't I know that anyone can get cancer and other illnesses - especially at my age, and that sleeping well and exercising regularly and having a good diet can help prevent all that?

Shouldn't I know with more clarity than most that anything can happen at any time to anyone I love? Shouldn't I know not to take my family and friends for granted, to enjoy every moment, to hug more, yell less, be generous with the 'I love yous,' and document everything that happens for memory sake?

But yet, I don't do all those things. I know. I know it all, but that doesn't mean I do it all perfectly every time. I can't help thinking that a person's inherent worth shouldn't be based on their ability to be perfect. We are all flawed. I should give myself the same breaks that I give to my children, but hold myself to the same expectations. If I expect them to learn from their mistakes, I should expect to learn from my mistakes, too. A huge part of life is growth, constantly making small changes to be better, do better, and live better. Even if it is week to week, day to day, hour to hour, or even minute by minute.



I know life can change in an instant. But I also know that life is about second chances, and I hope mine never run out. I hope I never run out of chances to be a better person. It may be fatalistic to say that, but I'm saying it anyway.

So that's why, instead of making grand resolutions, I'm grabbing every second chance I can get at any moment I can get it.







10.28.2014

I Found My Inner Strength with Chicken Soup . . .For the Soul

Longtime readers of Kissing the Frog know that I have been through my fair share of hard things. Icky stuff like cancer and autism and infertility and miscarriage and bed rest and birth defects.

Each of these things has sucked in it's own way; but I can't say any have broken me. No, not even losing my sweet Joey to cancer has broken me. It can't. None of it can. Some days I feel like I don't have a choice but to go on and forge ahead. For my spouse, for my children, for me. 

As someone who grew up living a simple life with an extremely loving and supportive family, I've had it pretty good compared to some other people. Many people have faced challenges that I'll never begin to understand. Since Joey's cancer battle and death, I've begun to say to people that just because I've experienced something worse than you have, it doesn't make your hard thing any less difficult for you. It's all in what we know. It's all in what we know as our personal experience.

I am so honored to be sharing my personal experience in the newest Chicken Soup for the Soul book, Find Your Inner Strength, which is officially on sale today. In my essay, "Bit by Bit," I share how I, along with my family, am healing a bit every day since Joey's loss.

Rawr!


Find Your Inner Strength includes 101 stories of resilience, positive thinking, and overcoming challenges. Included are sections on overcoming self-destructive behavior, fighting health challenges, powering through loss (in which my story is included), moving past disabilities, accepting the new normal, accepting what makes you different, learning to reach out, rising to the challenge, pursuing your dreams, and taking back your life. I cannot wait to read the other stories in this anthology!

Chicken Soup for the Soul has been around for over 20 years. It's tag line - "Changing lives one story at a time" - alludes to their powerful purpose. They allow writers to share their stories in the hopes that they just might change someone's life. You can follow Chicken Soup for the Soul on Facebook and Twitter. You can get your copy of
Chicken Soup for the Soul: Find Your Inner Strength: 101 Empowering Stories of Resilience, Positive Thinking, and Overcoming Challenges from Amazon (this is an affiliate link), from the Chicken Soup for the Soul website , or anywhere books are sold.

OR you can get one from me. I have a copy to give away to a reader who can tell me:

What is the greatest challenge you have overcome and how did you do it? 

The rules are simple:
1. Go to my Facebook page and find the pinned post at the top.
2. Answer the question honestly. Speak from your heart.
3. You will get an automatic "like" from me.
4. The post with the most likes by 10:00 p.m. Central Time Wednesday night 10/29 will win the book. In the event of a tie, I will ask my fellow BlogU planning team bloggers to help decide the winner.
5. I'm only sending the book to residents of the US. Sorry, if I were a famous author I could afford to ship anywhere. Maybe someday. :)

That's it. Good luck finding your inner strength!

*This giveaway has ended. 

10.24.2014

It's not perfect until it's about to change

There is an off-Broadway musical called "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change." Even though I've never seen it and I suspect it's about marriage and relationships, I've been thinking about that phrase a lot lately.



It's no huge secret that I hate change. Well, maybe I don't hate it, but I'm definitely scared of it. Sometimes it's kind of a thrilling scary feeling, but mostly it's just a dread filled scary feeling.

We're moving, you know. We've been building a house for almost a year. No, it's not some huge mansion that has to take that long. Rather, it's just Karma's cruel joke of stretching out the dread and the fear and the unknown for as long as It can.

Yes, I'm excited for a new house - our house. It will be brand new, never lived in, everything picked out by us new. All ours. But, it's a new neighborhood and a new routine and a new grocery store and new drugstore and different Target. If Hubby had his way, it would mean a new school for the boys; but I refused. That's too much change for them. Okay, me. Too much change for me.

I wasn't thrilled when we bought our current house. Although it wasn't exactly sight unseen, it was sort of. You see, we were living on Long Island with three babies under the age of two, and Hubby really did not want to fly back to Nebraska to look for houses. His sister was moving out of her house, so he decided that we would buy it. Though it was the perfect house for us - four bedrooms, three car garage, and a fenced back yard - it wasn't what I had pictured as perfect when I was thinking of our first family home.

We spent years and a lot of money making it perfect for us. We have a huge master suite, a beautiful kitchen, and a cozy family room. And the icing on the cake is this:

We love our outdoor fireplace.


Who wouldn't want it, right?

It was never our plan to live here permanently. We always wanted to build our dream home. But time and the destructive nature of four little boys changed our plans. We are building another modest home about the same size as our current one. We're adding another bedroom so all the boys can have their own, and of course an open concept living and eating area. For me, the best part about our new home isn't the huge, walk-in pantry or laundry that is separate from the entrance to the house; but it is the flat private street we will be on. I can truly say to the boys, "Go play in the street," and I know they will be fine.


For more than 10 minutes, Slim helped a caterpillar cross
our new street, and not one car drove by. 8 cars probably
would have driven by on our current street.

We currently live on a busy through street which is a hill and a curve. I hate it. It wasn't something I realized before we bought this house. We also had virtually no young kids in the neighborhood for our boys to play with.

But now, they are older and more careful on their bikes and friends from school have been found within blocks of our house. Every evening after homework, there are boys here or our boys are there. The other moms and I joke about how it's a shame that they are all playing now that we will be moving. They will have to find new neighborhood friends, and I will have to get to know those moms and those kids.

Just when it became perfect, it's changing; and that's giving me anxiety.

Potential buyers have looked at our house; and while the feedback has been mostly positive, it's some of their negative comments that are getting to me:

"We're concerned about all the oak wood."
"The basement was a disappointment."
"The carpet needs to be replaced."
"It's too close to the neighbors."
"The trees in the backyard look sick."

I polished all of those cabinets myself, thankyouverymuch, and I know the basement isn't totally cool and the wood is oak, but the house was built in 1988. The carpet is beautiful and is only dirty in one high traffic spot and the trees have been lovingly trimmed every year and our neighbors are soooo quiet and nice. Oh, how I will miss our across the street, very nice neighbors.

Our house is perfect.

Only we want a change. We want a change. That's good, right? Change can be good. When the Earth changes from this:





to this:



it's good.

When babies grow and learn to walk and talk and use the potty it's good, right?

When little boys become big boys and help their brothers and get good grades and develop interests and friends, that's good, isn't it?

And when life moves forward, even though it's a little scary and a little uncertain and even if it means you have to change some things you don't really want to change, that's okay, right?

Right??

I often make the mistake of complaining to the sticking point. I mean, me. Stuck. Stuck in a rut and a routine that, while it is comfortable, it really doesn't make sense anymore. While easy, it's not the best for me. Change is not always easy. Sometimes it's really hard. Sometimes we gnash our teeth and dig in our heels and whine and cry and complain about it.

Then it comes anyway. And it's just fine. In fact, it can be pretty perfect sometimes if we would only give it a chance.

I try not to get too excited about change. I don't want to set myself up for a disappointment. I guess that's my own personal defense strategy. Don't plan, don't get excited. Just let it happen. Change happens, whether we  I like it or not.

I was talking to someone the other day saying that just about the time that things become perfect and easy, that's the time they need to change. Without change, after all, how can we grow?

Even if something is not perfect, it doesn't mean we can't make it that way. We've done it before. I think we might be able to do it again.






7.08.2014

Everyone Needs a Bucket List

Summer seems to be the perfect time to get some of those things I've been wanting to do knocked off my bucket list. Being that it’s mid-summer already, I think I better get moving.


I’m a dreamer, always thinking about how great it would be to do certain things. But I hesitate because I know some are totally unrealistic for me. The idea of adventure is enticing, but the reality is sometimes limiting. 

Today over at Mamalode, I've made two bucket lists. One "Probably Never Gonna Happen" list and one more realistic "Just Go For It!" list. Head on over and read both lists here. Make sure you tell me what would be on your lists. 


(Here is the post since it says, again, it was written by someone else.)

One Mom's (Totally Unrealistic) Bucket List (originally on Mamalode.com)

Summer seems to be the perfect time to get some of those things I’ve been wanting to do knocked off my bucket list. Being that it’s July already, I think I better get moving.


I’m a dreamer, always thinking about how great it would be to do certain things. But I hesitate because I know some are totally unrealistic for me. The idea of adventure is enticing, but the reality is sometimes limiting.

My (Probably Never Gonna Happen) List:

  • Take a hot-air balloon ride over wine country. (I am so terrified of heights that I can’t even stand next to the railing at the mall. Add wine in the mix, and I’d fall out of the basket for sure!)
  • Compete on a reality competition television show. (I don’t eat weird things, I won’t do nudity, and I avoid conflict like the plague. I’d get eliminated within five minutes.)
  • Swim the Great Barrier Reef. (It took me three years to pass beginner’s swimming, and I haven’t taken a lesson since. I’m thinking this isn’t too safe or smart.)
  • Hike the Grand Canyon, camp at the bottom, and hike out the next day. (I don’t camp, my thighs burn just walking from the basement to the top floor of our house, and hello? The heights thing.)
  • Convince George Clooney that I am really the one he should be giving up bachelorhood for. (Yeah, ummm, have we seen me? I’m definitely no Amal!)

My (More Realistic, Just Go For It) List:

  • Go on an African Safari. (Even though the thought of international travel scares me a bit and the thought of being chased and mauled by a lion is a fleeting concern, I’d love to do this. It was my late son Joey’s dream, so I’d do it for him.)
  • Take a cross country road trip. (My husband would hate this; but we drove everywhere when I was a kid and stayed in cheap motels. If one of my sons wanted to do this one day, I would totally go with him.)
  • Run a race for childhood cancer. (A 5 or 10k would be totally doable. I just need to be mentally ready first. Why I would be doing it is still hard for me right now.)
  • Adopt a dog. (It’s inevitable. It would make four little boys—and one big boy—in my house very happy.)
  • Convince myself to finish Joey’s memoir. (The more I write, the harder it is to remember; so I set it aside for now. But I will finish, even if it takes me ten years.)

Oprah Winfrey once said, “The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams.”

Have you done any of my bucket list items? What’s on your list?

6.03.2014

Tiny Garden, Tiny Talent

I remember once when I was in high school, three of my friends were in a pageant (beauty contest?). Of course several of us went to see them and cheer them on. As I sat and watched all of my peers dance, sing, and play instruments, something struck me: I have absolutely no talent whatsoever.

I never took dance lessons, I couldn't play an instrument, and I certainly couldn't carry a tune in a proverbial bucket. I went home and begged my mother to get me my grandma's old guitar so I could learn to play. The thing was it was so badly out of tune, it would have cost a fortune to repair; so I just let it sit in our attic instead of hers.

As I look back now, I had plenty of talent. I was a decent soccer player, but I blew off varsity try-outs. I was a great speaker and actress, but I never tried out for a single part or joined the speech team. And of course - writing. I never took journalism or let anyone see any of my creative writing pieces.

It was simply all about confidence and fear of failure.

Sadly, it still is that for me.

But when a simple little task comes along and it doesn't matter how I do because no one is looking, I thrive and enjoy. And of course write a blog post about it. You can find that here.





And tell me, what is a talent you have that you either hide or proudly display?

5.20.2014

Birthday SNAFUs

So, today is my birthday. Happy birthday to me. I've spent so much time talking about how much I looove my birthday, I think I may have jinxed myself. It's not been such a great day. And as I write this, it's only noon.

My 8 year old was being a poop-head this morning and yelling at me for putting a *gasp* strawberry milk in his lunch box and sunscreen on his neck. I know, horrible mother.

I had to cancel my facial (again, I know, first world problems) because I had to take Slim to a different orthodontist. His current one seems to have no clue how to manage the care of a child with a cleft lip and palate. Slim was supposed to have another surgery this summer; but due to the need for more orthodontic work, it is being pushed into the fall - which we did not want to happen because fifth grade.

Today is the first year in a long time that it has not rained on my birthday; in fact, the weather is perfect and gorgeous. I was going to go enjoy it, but my babysitter is sick. She was yesterday, so I knew she would be today. Not her fault, but *sad face*. Slim has his first social skills class tonight and Knox has a baseball game and I have an article about reptiles due tomorrow (don't ask).

Rush, rush, hurry, hurry. Grown-up birthdays. Now I can see why people say it's simply just another day.

But thank you Facebook and texting for making easy for people to reach out. 'Cause that's nice.

And thank you take-out food and new outlet mall and a Hubby who gets how I like to make a big deal of my birthday. I have no doubt I'll get to celebrate, just not today.

In case you wanted to do something nice for me today, you could click on this link and read even more of my birthday thoughts on Mamalode. I do get paid to write there, so it's like you'll be giving me money for my birthday. It's a win-win for us both, really.

Wanna really spoil me rotten? Click here and here, too.

Thanks for reading. Here's to a great year!

shutterstock.com
I'll take all the ones with pink frosting, please, and the chocolate ones and the
ones with something on top of the frosting and . . .alright, I'll take them all!


5.01.2014

Rainy Days and Mondays (Don't) Always Get Me Down

*This post was originally published on May 20, 2013.

Today is my birthday. It always rains on my birthday. Really. For as long as I can remember, it has rained on my birthday.

And this year my birthday falls on a Monday. Double whammy.

Except that I love spring rain. It's warm and it greens the grass and it makes the flowers grow. And I love a good thunderstorm! The flashes of lightning, the distant rumbles and the sudden booms that send little boys running into our big king-sized bed.

I really don't mind Mondays, either. I once said that I am a Monday person. Mondays are the perfect day to begin anew: new goals, reviving old ones, a time to start knocking items off a fresh "to-do" list.





Nope, rainy days and Mondays don't always get me down (and for the record, I love the Carpenters, too).

Except . . .that today is my birthday. My 43rd birthday.

Normally, I love my birthday. Sure, millions of other people have my same birthday, even some people I know, but it's still a special day. It's my day.

Even the year Joey was sick I enjoyed my birthday. Aside from the wonderful surprise party Hubby threw me for my 40th, there was the fact that Joey did not die on my birthday; which, as morbid as it sounds, was the only thing I wished for leading up to my birthday that year.

So there was that.

Admittedly, the three years since then have been really hard for me despite the gift of Baby E. For the first time in my life, I feel old and it pains me to say exactly how old.

This past weekend my family went out of town, and I got to see my sister. She gave me a lovely birthday card, and I said to her, "Half of my life is over."

She and her husband laughed (What else could they do? They are older than me!). "Don't look at it that way," they both responded.

It's true. I can't look at it that way. But it's hard not to. I'm tired and achy. I have a mom body. I am so not up on the latest lingo and trends. Okay, so I never have been, but that's not the point.

The point is that 43 sounds old.

But here's the thing: honestly, it's just a number. It is simply the number of years I have been alive. That's it.

Age is just a number - I've always believed that. It doesn't define a person.

What defines a person is that person's experiences and attitudes, the things that have happened to her and the things she has made happen. What defines her is the love she has given and received and the words and the actions she uses.

Sometimes I still feel like a young girl. When I am playing in the backyard pushing my boys on the swings, I feel compelled to jump on a swing to see if I can swing high enough to touch the bottom leaves of the tree.

Sometimes I feel like I am 28 again when I dress up and Hubby tells me I look hot. He reminds me that after having five children and suffering grief, I still look amazing to him. I'll take that compliment.

Sometimes I feel like my younger years were too easy on me even though I made them too hard on myself. But I wouldn't have it any other way because they have shaped who I am. They taught me who I want to be.

With each passing year, I learn more and more about myself. I learn how strong I can be. I learn about resiliency and courage. I learn to be independent, and I learn how important family is. I learn that true friends are made, not found, and I see life for the way it is, not the way I want it to be.

I realize that the unobvious beauty in life is the hardest to see, and that there was once good in every human being and can be again.

I want to remain young in thought because a young mind is what keeps a person young at heart and soul and body.

I've got a lot more living to do - over half my life!

Today is my birthday, and I'm celebrating me.

It's Monday, and it will most likely rain.

But I'm not letting that get me down.

Not today.

3.11.2014

How Fit of a Mother Are You?

As women, we say a lot of things to make each other feel good.

“You look good for having had five kids!”

“You ARE over 40 you know.”

“You have been through a lot in the past four years. Give yourself a break.”

People say these things to me, but I still often feel badly about the way I look. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.

I do because I know I’m not trying as hard as I should to eat properly, to exercise often, sleep well, and take care of myself.

I blame it on motherhood. . .

Wanna hear why? Read more of "Unfit Mother" on Mamalode.

Unfit Mother


Catch up on my latest Mamalode posts here and here.



1.20.2014

10 Events from the Past Decade I Wouldn't Want to Forget

I am currently working my way through the book What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty. I know, I'm a little late to the game as this book was published in 2009, but that's what happens when reading for fun gets "shelved" for other things.

Anyway, in this best-selling book, Alice is a 39-year old mother of three who finds herself with memory loss after falling off her bike in spin class and hitting her head. She thinks she is still 29, madly in love with her husband, and pregnant with her first child. She slowly begins to piece the past ten years back together, only to discover that her life hasn't exactly turned out the way she thought it would.

I have always romanticized the notion of getting amnesia. I imagine being the damsel in distress, slowly piecing the fragments of my memory back together like a puzzle or a mystery. Though, reading this book makes me think about the past ten years of my own life and how much has happened. Sometimes ten years can seem like nothing - events that happened a decade ago can be recalled as easily as if they happened last week.

But sometimes, you catch yourself thinking, Wow, that happened that long ago??

For me, it feels like the bulk of my life has been lived in the past ten years, and I definitely would not want to have missed it by not remembering the events as I lived them. Here are ten events I wouldn't want to forget:



1. Childbirth and my children. Ten years ago, I had two newborn babies. Two babies who, though they were born in December, didn't come home until this week. I wouldn't know their personalities, how easily I fell into motherhood, and how much I loved it. I'd be surprised to learn I had more babies - lots more babies - despite having undergone fertility treatments for the twins. I'd know nothing about my other pregnancies, breast feeding, or Slim's surgeries to repair his cleft lip and palate. I think I would also have to grieve the fact that I have no little girls. I accepted it each time the doctor announced, "It's a boy!" But I always saw myself being the mom of girls.

2. Our two-year stint living on Long Island. Although I was reluctant to move initially, those two years were some of the best of our lives. We were doing it on our own. I'll never forget the feeling of confidence I had every time someone came to visit us and I took them to all the tourist hotspots just like I was a regular city dweller. If I didn't remember living there, New York City would still be a big, scary, mysterious place to me. Now I think I could go back and fall into step like I never left.

Us in Central Park, Hubby with hair, me PG with our third


3. Our current home. I always saw us living in our little brick home for a long while, filling the tree-lined backyard with lots of kids. I think I'd be amazed to learn that we are actually living in Hubby's sister's old home and that we're about ready to move. I would have missed all the renovations of our current home, the plans for our future home, and all of the memories we have made here along the way.

4. Our travels. I have always wanted to go to Hawaii. We went last year at this time. All I would have would be pictures rather than the memory of flying over the island in a helicopter (I wouldn't believe I had done that!). I would have missed Florida, California, all of our memories of our vacation condo on the lake, and all the times I've explored a city alone while Hubby was at a business conference.



5. How much our extended family has grown. In addition to our own children, between the two of us, Hubby and I have about 30 nieces and nephews. Most of them are teenage and older, and it's been so fun to watch them grow and mature, marry people, develop serious relationships and careers, and have babies of their own. I'd never be able to catch up on everything that's gone on with all of them if I forgot it all. Hubby and I also each have sisters who've been divorced and remarried, too. I'd have to get to know the new spouses and all the new kids our siblings have added.

6. Facebook, social media, e-mail, and texting. While there was e-mail ten years ago, it wasn't as easy as it is now to check, send, and receive. And the boom of social media has been incredible. I think it would be pretty difficult for me to wrap my head around all the people I hear from on a regular basis now that I have Facebook.

7. My friends. 90% of the people I interact with now are people I have met in the past ten years. I'd have to get to know them again, learn where and how we met and under what circumstances. And all the people who live in my computer (ie: my blogger friends)? There would be no one who could explain them to me but me. Plus, my two best college friends I thought were long lost to me are in my life once again. That would definitely be a pleasant surprise I'd want to remember.

8. My blog and writing. Though I've always wanted to be a writer, having a blog wasn't even on my radar 10 years ago. I'd miss knowing the process I went through to start it, choosing the name, and the other sites I've written for along the way. In addition, I've been published in a book and write for a print magazine - two things that were just dreams a decade ago.

9. Physical changes. How in the hell would I explain to myself all the weight I've gained in the past ten years?? My mom has gone all gray (she looks great!), Hubby has gone almost all bald (no comment), and there is a huge expressway that runs through the middle of our city now. It would be like I'm in a foreign land with unknown people. I don't do very well with change.

10. Joey's battle with cancer and his death. How would I even be able to come to grips with the fact that the little baby I just had was gone already? Gone before I even had the chance to know his adorable personality, his hilarious outlook on life, his sweet positivity? I definitely wouldn't want to grieve it all over again, but I also wouldn't want to forget what we went through because ultimately it changed me as a mother and as a person.



Last week on Facebook I asked if I should check out a spin class (totally unrelated to my reading of the book). Considering everything I could forget, I think I might pass.


Have you ever thought about what would happen if you lost your memory? What are some of the most unforgettable events of the past decade for you?



11.12.2013

A Mom's Top 25 Tips for Fighting Depression

I had one day last week that was a really, really great day. I secured two more paid monthly writing gigs. I had gotten a lot done that day, practiced some yoga, and was feeling pretty good.

Then Slim, my 9-year-old, got in the car after school. "Mom, guess what?!" (To be fair, I already knew "what" because his teacher had e-mailed me.) "I won the Geography Bee out of the whole fourth grade!" Finally one of his quirky little obsessions has paid off. I have not seen him so proud and happy in a long time. It made me so happy to see him so happy.

But the next day, I hardly got anything done. I was chasing my tail - and Edgie, my 2-year-old - all day cleaning up messes. I wanted to go for a walk, but had to wait for the garage opener repairman. I wanted to clean out my closet and switch out summer clothes for winter clothes, but Edgie was scattering my jewelry and shoes everywhere. Slim came home from school upset because he had gotten in trouble in PE, which he felt wasn't his fault. In the evening, we tried to settle in for one of our favorite family activities- reading Harry Potter by the outdoor fireplace all snuggled together under blankets eating roasted marshmallows - but there was one interruption after another.

I was downright crabby. And a little depressed. Is it too hard to ask that there ever be two consecutive good days in a row?

I happened to read a post by one of my favorite on-line friends, JD from Honest Mom, who blogs a lot about depression. Hers is on-going, despite having tried many strategies. I began to think about my own strategies, and realized that I am NOT using any. I think I am relying too much on my doctor prescribed antidepressant. I have been on Lexapro since Joey was diagnosed with cancer; and honestly, I think I may be using it as a crutch at this point. I would love to stop taking the Lexapro, but that means I need to try much harder at the strategies that I know make me feel better. I have noticed a definite correlation between how I choose to treat myself and my happiness.

So, here are my 25 best tips for fighting depression:


  1. Eat (mostly) clean. I know I crave crap food when I'm feeling blue, but it just ends up making me feel worse a few hours later.
  2. Limit alcohol, caffeine, and processed sugar. Along with number one, this is important. These may give you a temporary jolt, but the crash that comes later is brutal - and even more depressing. I would never tell anyone to completely cut out their favorite foods. Food IS comfort. But know your limits. And if you have a tendency to binge like me, avoid!
  3. Get moving! The last thing a depressed person wants to do is an intense spin class. Just getting out of bed can be a challenge. But a brisk walk in the sunshine can do wonders. Plus the vitamin D from the sun is a bonus!
  4. Stretch or do yoga. Getting your blood flowing can instantly perk up your mood. And it feels sooo good. This post shares some easy exercises you can do at home anytime.
  5. Make a plan. Decide on something you will do each day - even if it is just going to the mailbox - and then do it. Without a plan, you will likely stay on the couch or in bed and in your funk.
  6. Only put one thing on your to-do list per day. This was great advice from my husband. I used to get so frustrated and upset that I wasn't knocking out my laundry list of to-dos every day. What started out as a little humorous ribbing, ended up making perfect sense. You can get one thing done a day, right? And when you cross it off, it will feel so good you may just go and do something else.
  7. Phone-a-friend. For me, talking to my mom always makes me feel better. But there are friends I can call about different things - one who understands my depression about losing Joey, one I can talk writing with, one I can just gripe about life with, etc. . . Just make sure you're not placing too much on any one friend - losing a friend can be depressing, too.
  8. Organize something. There is something about standing back and looking at a purged and re-organized pantry the makes me high-five myself. Decluttering stuff can definitely help a cluttered mind.
  9. Get down and dirty. Sure sex feels good, but I am talking about a good old-fashioned scrubbing. Along with number 8, lending a little elbow grease to that grime in the shower can be quite therapeutic.
  10. Come clean. Taking a shower, a bubble bath, or just washing your hair or face or brushing your teeth can do wonders for turning a bad day around. You just have to get off the couch to do it.
  11. Don't compare. That mom up at school who seems to have everything together and is wearing a cute little dress to volunteer in the cafeteria has problems, too. Trust me, she does. Everyone does.
  12. Avoid triggers. Damn social media anyway. Facebook, Pinterest, and the like make it hard to avoid feeling depressed. But just remember two things: a.) Pinterest is supposed to be pretty. That is what draws people to a particular website. 75% of the things getting "pinned" will never be cooked, made, bought, wore, changed, or tried (I totally just made that percentage up, but you know it's true). And b.) Facebook is 99.9% bullshit (just made that percentage up, too). Those 30 Days of Gratitude posts can be maddening, right? Keep in mind that the same person who says something is a blessing, just bitched about it last month.
  13. Meditate and breathe. This means finding a quiet place or time to regroup and think about what's really important in your life. If it means taking stock of all the little things you're grateful for (no announcement on Facebook necessary) then so be it. Think about everything you could lose if your pattern of depression continues. This does NOT mean dwelling on the things that are already upsetting you.
  14. Take risks. Not the really dangerous, I-don't-give-a-crap-what-happens-to-me kind. The kind where a positive outcome would make you happy, but a negative one wouldn't devastate you. Every time I submit one of my pieces of writing, I feel a rush of happiness. If someone likes it and wants to pay me a little money for it, great. If not, well, I'll just move on to the next.
  15. Do what makes you happy. If you have a passion, keep at it. Make it just for you. I will never stop writing. Even if no one is reading, I will still write. If you love old movies, take a day to watch your favorite black and whites. Don't give up what you love to do for ANY reason.
  16. Sleep. Get the right amount. Not too much and definitely not too little. Listen to your body and say okay when it needs sleep.
  17. Communicate. Don't expect those closest to you to know what you need. It may be difficult to articulate, especially if you fear rejection, but it's the only way anyone is going to be able to help you with what you need.
  18. Cuddle. Depression can kill a person's sex drive, but we still all need loving contact. Sit close by your partner on the couch and watch a favorite movie or give back rubs. Snuggle with your kids or pet. Even one hug from someone you care about can make a difference.
  19. Read something that makes you laugh. Can I suggest "I Heart My Little A-Holes" by Karen Alpert, "At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles" by Paige Kellerman, "Moms Who Drink and Swear" by Nicole Knepper, "Ketchup is a Vegetable" by Robin O'Bryant, or "I Just Want to Pee Alone", "You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth", and "The Mother of All Meltdowns" by various bloggers?
  20. Read something that inspires you. Blogs, books, magazines.
  21. Talk in a silly voice or make funny noises. Hey, it's good for a laugh, right? And laughter is contagious.
  22. Belt out a tune. Pick one of your favorites. Is it a show tune? Some angry rap? A silly kids' song? I personally love singing the falsetto girl part in Justin Timberlake's "Senorita."
  23. Bust a move. If I can dance to that song, too, man I feel good!
  24. Cry. If all else fails, let it all out.
  25. Think differently. I don't mean to be harsh about this, but sometimes it's not all about you. The other day, Edgie unearthed an old DVD that we haven't watched since Joey was alive. After watching it, Lil' C said, "That made me miss Joey. I feel like crying. I love Joey." At first it made my heart very heavy. But then, I told myself that at least Lil' C, who likely remembers very little about Joey, is talking about and expressing love for Joey. And that's a good thing. Whatever it is that threatens to pull you under FLIP IT and turn it into something else.
  26. (Bonus one!) Say "I love you" - to yourself. Or at least a part of yourself. I am so depressed about all the weight I've gained in the last few years, but you know what? I still love my hair and my eyes. And when I put the last period on a really great piece of writing - damn it feels good! We all have beauty and worth - FIND YOURS!


Any one of these strategies in and of itself is not going to make a huge difference to a depressed person. But in combination, they can work wonders. There is definitely a part of depression that can be controlled by our own choices and actions. This I have come to know, and realize it is something I will be working on for the rest of my days.

Please note, if you have tried any or all of these strategies and you still feel like there is a heavy blanket on your heart and mind that you just can't get out from under, know that there is NO shame in getting help whether in the form of talk therapy or medication. For me, getting that medicinal assistance is what helped me learn more about my body and mind.

I am not completely off the Lexapro yet, and I don't know how it will go once I am. I will let you know, but I am confident that if I keep working on the strategies above I can do it.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...