Mother's Day. My new three day weekend.

There's a lot being said about Mother's Day lately, I'm no rocket scientists but I'm guessing it because it is tomorrow. I think it is cool to read things in the paper or see them online, about great things that people are doing for their Mothers. Schools that are making a deal out of it, famous people (yes, famous people have Mom's too.. well, except for Lindsey) are giving their Mom's cars, restaurants are having cute brunches . It's awesome. I love it. It's like Valentines Day and your birthday, except it's just you, your littles and all the love you can handle.
We don't do presents really. I mean sometimes they do, but for the most part it's just about getting breakfast in bed (which is my FAVORITE thing in the world) having the kids be nice to each other, sneaking out at some point with a girlfriend and that is about it. We don't do flowers (except maybe at the Farmers Market, which we do after my lazy, lazy brunch) or chocolate. We don't buy diamonds or fancy bags. No lavish necklaces or rings. If we had the money to spend 15K on a ring, I would give the money to my local food bank and give my very best beauty pageant wave as they all carried me down the street on a thrown. I mean, can you imagine? That's probably a different blog entry all together but really, to know me is to know that I am not flashy and I need for not.
Where was I? I'm getting all worked up over the thought of the things I could do with Kardashian money and it wouldn't be taking Kanye (hows your head buddy?) to lunch. Anyway...
What I am saying is, is that our day is simple and oh so special. It is a day I don't have to plan and I don't have to make anything happen but I still get to be a part of it. A big part. I get to be myself and enjoy my work, which is raising all these damn kids!
This bring me to my point and my disclaimer is that I have no backing information on this person, so obviously there's more to the story but I read a Facebook post the other day and I was so floored, I had to respond. You know, to someone I am not friends with nor do I "like" their page. A friend of mine commented on the post that read "... do you think being a Mom is the hardest job in the world, ever? (Spoiler alert, I don't"."
Needless to say it struck a cord with me and not because I was having a rough day, it was just like reading something that goes against every bone in your body. I think this person doesn't believe in Mother's Day altogether,  I had to reply- so here's what I said.

"I find this post odd. "Over glorifying motherhood'? Is there such a thing? Some surgeons
are awful at what they do, have you never seen Mickey Rourke? Ditch digging? Have you ever done this? I'd use the term "suck" not "hard". (someone had said they thought Motherhood was easy and that surgeons and ditch diggers had the hardest jobs....)
Some Mothers are terrible but if you do it well, how is anyone to say it's not the hardest job? Isn't that just a figure of speech? The word "job" means: 'paid position of regular employment". If you guys are getting paid, I'm definitely doing it wrong. I work at parenting my 12,3 and 10 month old full time, round the clock and it's no joke. But I find my work an investment for my/our future. I plan to take my success in this position all the way to the proverbial bank when the last one is out of the nest.
Whether they dig ditches, become surgeons OR be stay at home parents (or any combination) that's what I am choosing to do with my life. Well, a big part of it anyway.
It's work. Hard, constant work. I could never feel "over glorified". Can you imagine? Too much praise? No. Praise on. I need it.
The blanket statement of "chardonnay, useless husbands and sticky icky kids"... You said it, maybe that is how you really feel?
In my downtime, I find my friends and I talking about the crazy world headlines, how to potty train our toddlers and keeping our pre-teens out of trouble. Things like that.
I feel odd chiming into a faceless FB thread but I hear/see posts and conversations about this and I just don't get it. If parenthood is easy for you, I think that's great. I think you are perpetually high, but I still think it's great. "


So that's that. I had a lot to say and I am not sure why really. I don't care if others don't want to take a day and bask in their greatness. That's fine, there will be more mimosas and massage chairs open because of it but I can't help but think it is doing more harm than good. But my parenting philosophy is different than those that agree with this kind of thinking. There are comments about "martyr syndrome" and using exhaustion as a status symbol. They speak of not using sippy cups with our kids and not praising kids for what is perceived to be mediocre behavior. I'd like to think that I am pretty awesome human and a fine parent but I know as a child I was pretty awful. I wet the bed far into my school age life and I picked my nose and sucked my thumb. What does that say about me now? How was that any indication of what kind of person I would be? Was I humiliated? Ya and you know, that part molded me and not in a stellar way. I find it hard to push the "grow up" attitude on my kids. I don't want them to grow up. I know they will/are but I would just assume Quattro stay 8 (best age!) and Elvis stay 3. I would like that baby to stay a baby but I bet he is going to be really fun to talk to...
How does anyone know what your kid is capable of? What is perceived as mediocre in one kid could be like amazing in another kid. My son played basketball and I was so proud of him in the final game. He finally got the guts to shoot the damn thing (after spending the entire season passing it to someone else) that it was as if he graduated high school as valedictorian. I was so proud. I took him to dinner. Yes, I did. I took him to dinner to celebrate his guts because it took him 3 months to get them. He missed the shot but he will never remember that part. He will only remember how proud HE was of himself.

There's a group of women (and lets face it, a shitload of men) that think that since Motherhood is a choice that you should not be struggling or looking up to people that we may think do things better. That you shouldn't celebrate a day with a glass of wine, while being exhausted because that means you are trendy. I find more and more that people who are talking about Mothers hating Mothers ARE actually the Mothers that hate Mothers. 

Confused?

I find myself looking up to women and their kids all the time. I see families on IG, FB and day to day and I think "damn, they have go it figured out" but I am not serious. When I am tired because I have had a long day, it's not because I can't handle it, it's simply because I am exhausted. End of my daily rope, can't take another minute, want to guzzle something so I feel happy again.
Is that so bad?

Maybe. And you know, c'est la vie, to each her own, just a pinch, a little goes a long way... blah blah blahhhhh.

I will say that I think Motherhood is the hardest job I have ever had. Sure I stopped working for the man when I was 23, but I am working my ass off every day, every week, every month and every year. Some days I am on fire and people look at me and think I have it all, but something tells me they know I don't. I am simply doing my best and that, is worth it's weight in gold and a mothercussing breakfast in bed. 

My guy.

Batter up.

Today I volunteered to take our son to baseball practice, not because I needed to run errands, or talk to the coach. There were no parents I was dying to chat w/ either. I just wanted to get away from everyone.
There are certain times when we as humans just need to be alone and today was that day.
I'm not even shy about admitting the fact that I sat on the bleachers for about 15 minutes then retreated to the car. I sensed a stack of mindless chitchat coming my way, so I skulked off to the car, where I'll sit perfectly quiet for the next 50 minutes. And I couldn't be happier about it.
I just wanted to share that little beauty. Some of us Mothers feel guilty or worse we are made to feel guilty and I want to remind us that guilt is a useless emotion. Take a little time for yourself. Grab your purse and the grocery list and then just go get a coffee, come home a couple hours later w/ no groceries, order a pizza and tomorrow you will be a better gal for it.

Technology killed romance, and so much more.

I had a lengthy and very good conversation with a near and dear friend this morning. Someone I don't talk to nearly enough- staying connected is so much easier but yet we make less time for it. So our conversation got me thinking, has all of this technology killed our ability to want to stay connected? Has it killed our ability to have romance? Do we have a false sense of connection because of it?

I think yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I have a feeling that we think by posting to our Facebook wall and updating our Instagram page, we as couples and close friends, family and the like, THINK we are staying connected, but are we?

My friend remembered the days of her husband standing outside, in the rain, on a pay phone that he no doubt had to search high and low for- just to say "Hi" and now we don't get a response to a picture we send via text.

I remember when calling cards were on the rider (a list of wants/needs that bands send to clubs they will be playing in- usually beer, pistachios, socks, batteries, porn and good weed) and for my guy- calling cards were a staple for years. He would covet them, hoard them and the next morning or that late night after the show, brave a dodgy neighborhood call box just to say "HI" and "I love you". Now it's "sorry I didn't call you back, I must have fallen asleep" or the lovely "my phone died and I lost my charger".

I am not saying men are liars (well, actually, I am) but do they not see the gigantic void in the romance/relationship being brought by our plethora of convenient contact-ability?

I am a stay at home Mom. I don't travel for work but I have very little time to communicate during the day. I am guilty of not bridging the gap. I do think posting photos to IG keeps my family connected and in some ways, yes, it does but I could do more and so could you.

I urge you to pick up the goddamn phone and call the one you need to call, right now. Don't text, don't forward them a cute picture of your kid or @ them on Instagram. I urge you not to send them one of those zany 'e' cards or tweet them a PM. Give them a call.

You're welcome.

Parenting.

It's not for pussies.

The male peacock.

My husband and I have this on going conversation about how men with babies attached to them, not unlike wounded war victims, are somehow heroic and women, with these same accessories are seen as, oh, I don't know- overwhelmed.

"You sure got your hands full." says every robotic person on the planet that comes into to contact with me. When clearly, yes, with my cellphone in one hand (snapping IG pictures) and a Target shopping list in the other, I might literally have my "hands full". Let me preface this with, I do not think this is in any way, shape or form meant as a compliment or even a reassuring comment about my awesomeness as a Mother. It is more like, "geez lady, how many kids do you have?".

And no I am not always snapping pics or shopping at Target but running errands is when I hear the most chatter. The most judgment comes when I am dashing from one place to another, with a child on my hip, one at my feet and another one by my side. I am one of those people that will do everything outside the home in the same day. I hit the post and the market and the craft store and the pet store and the doctor and the dentist (well...?) in one day, all the other days, I am "working".

Enough about me.

Enter to the story, let's just say, my husband. And what do you know, he is SUPER DAD! All the old ladies are looking at him adoringly and thinking "oh his wife is SO lucky, look at what a hands on Dad he is". The mere sight of this guy with a toddler and a sippy cup and he's the fucking Pope of all Daddy's. He is a god damn saint. These ladies have no idea my husband is afraid to walk out of the house with all of our kids, let alone sit down at anything more than a coffee shop with them. They don't realize he has only been out of the house for 8 minutes and he will be quickly heading home, as to not exceed his 12 minute rendevous with our brood.

Now is the time I should add the information that my husband IS, in fact, a fantastic Dad. He is supportive, he is strong and a total softy. He teaches them how to play guitar, has a princess voice and how to grow a garden. He changes diapers and wears them (the kids, not the diapers) in a sling, pushes a stroller. The bastard even plays ponies.

BUT! Why in the shit-storm that I am creating, is he put on the Papa pedestal and I merely look like I'm in too deep?

And I get it, I am! I know I am. But why isn't he? I am out numbered like a motherfucker, but so is he! I have three kids, two are 3 and under but SO DOES HE!
He... let's be honest, he doesn't and can't do half the shit I do, nor do I want him to. He wouldn't want me on stage playing the bass and singing "Smoke of Hell" anymore than I want him handling this mess.
It's an agreement we have. I'm like "stay out of my way and be helpful" and he's like "stay off the stage". "Okay?" "Okay."

My problem isn't with him. When I see him wearing the baby in a sling or holding hands with our girl, I get all weak in the knees too but I'm not chasing after him because he dropped his binky.
People will sit and stare at him at restaurants when he is sitting with the kids but if it is just me and them, they are praying not to be getting set next to us.
People dash over and hold the door for the guy with a stroller, I get the same door dropped on mine. Recently I saw people stare at him from across the room at the library, he had the baby in the stroller and was helping our daughter find a book. They have no idea he hasn't used his library card in so long, they had it flagged so he could be issued a new one.

I feel a little like I am dogging him out. Like I am saying he doesn't deserve this praise, well of course he does. Parenting is not for pussies. Any two people can make a baby but the endurance to not only raise a child, but raise them right... this is something many (most?) fail at. The will do it for a few years and the kids get into school and their gone. Or worse, be a helicopter parent until the kid gets into middle school and then they just set them free. They have no idea it is like letting a lion out in a bunny farm. Bad idea. That is when they need the most parenting... I think of it as them being toddlers all over. Remember when they start getting mobile and crawling turns to walking? Just when you thought you had it all under control, the kid calls an audible. It's like that, but that is a whole different entry I guess.

I don't think I need to be thanked for the thankless job I am doing every day. I chose it, I CHOOSE it but seeing the differences, they just make me laugh. They make my husband laugh too, he thinks it's hilarious, he enjoys seeing people fawn over him like they would a male peacock. Do we ever notice the female? NO. No fancy tail, no fucking fawning.

I would finish this off with a nice rounded ending, but I am going to go stay up late tonight and watch a movie, so tomorrow morning Mr. Wonderful can go out and turn the fucking park upside down.

Happy Thanksgiving, all your crap is busted.

It is Thanksgiving... well, actually it isn't anymore. It's is 12 a.m. on Friday, the day after Thanksgiving and I have no idea what the date is. Which is beside the point.
It's over.  It was nice because my Mother came up for a week but I think I have one too many kids to sneak upstairs and take a nap for 3 hours midday. Shit.
Anyway, all of that hoopla for it and then, boom. (so anti-climatic, it doesn't even deserve all cap's).
It was nice. I have nothing to complain about and everything to be thankful for but it seems a little amiss, as I miss my husband. And since it is officially past, I am not going to talk about it.
He isn't here and hasn't been for what can only be known as A REALLY FUCKING LONG TIME! Notice the cap's, this has climax. Heh heh heh...
When he returns on Christmas eve (yes. Christmas eve) he will have been home no more than 6 days in 15 weeks. Annnnnnnnd, that's a lot. (Oh and we have a baby that is 21 weeks old, so no big deal.
I miss him and I miss the whole family dynamic, I feel very much as though we are growing over him like skin would grow over a bb, embedded into your chest. Even though that is a gross thought, it is very much the way it feels and that sucks.
I worry. I worry that we may unintentionally take on our own lives and never be able to meet up again. Physically we will be in that place but mentally and emotionally, it seems very possible. There seems to be a growing trend in couples splitting up. Ones that have been together longer, ones that seemed way better matched (E and I are opposites down to the bone), I just wonder what happens? It is as if I am less scared about "it" happening and more afraid of "what"? Like, what happens? I am still very much in love and he me, so if we find ourselves in that spot do we like... get a memo? Is there an app for that?
I hate being honest in a blog but I was told recently that I should keep writing and because there are seemingly deeper issues going on in my head, it seems odd but then I'm like "fuck it". If you are going to do it, do it. So I'm doing it. Well, writing that is.
I am not leaving my husband, so ladies- settle the shit down. I am just stating that there comes a time in your life, when you are married to a rock n' roller, that you go- "oh." and then you sigh and hope to cuss he is thinking the same thing. It is a very big "oh" and more like an "ooooooooooooooooooh", like "I knew this or I should have and yet here we are, learning fucking chinese" but in a way it is comforting to know we are learning chinese together. Although he is a slack ass student and you know what I mean, guys are LAZY! They don't know what to do or say and they just pretend you will forget and blah..... I say stupid shit like "you need to do stuff" and he's like "ok, (image of a dumb, panting dog.... nnnnnnNOW!) like what?" and I'm all "I can't tellllllll you what to do, then I might as well do it for myself. You need to think of stuff and do it and mean it and..." and he says nothing but I am fluent in thought bubble, I can even read it over the phone- so I know he's like "... then why don't you just... do... it... yourself...?!!"
It's all the same. Don't matter if your man digs a ditch or signs CD's at 2 a.m. I know, I know. I am not special and I don't get treated special and that is fine by me but at least you get to sleep next to your stinkin', snorin', bed hoggin', ditch diggin' husband every night.