On Being the Judgy Mom

Like anything in life motherhood has me in a continuous state of learning. Not only do I grow as mother like my children do but as a person as well. Recently, I noticed something about myself and as a mother that I didn't like.

I've started to judge. I hate that. I hate when other mothers and women do it in general. It's an easy trap to fall into, I will admit. Get a pack of women together and the judging begins before we even realize it. We judge how we dress, raise kids, keep house, have relationships with significant others, the list could go on and on. It serves no purpose most of the time. I think that under the guise of trying to learn how to understand each other better we enter into the dangerous judging zone. At least that is what I was telling myself a bit too often.

She lets her kids eat what?

I can't believe her husband treats her that way! If I were her...

I would never let my house look like.....

When my child behaves that way, I....

You know that person. You do it yourself from time to time. Or even all that time. It's ugly and completely unbecoming, serves no one and has real place. When I noticed that I had committed this faux pas, this habit that I loathe in others, I felt so ashamed. I know we all do it but it is something I have worked so hard to eliminate from my life and want freedom from for all women. It is just too common place. Not only was I judging but I was silencing myself too. I was keeping my ideas, opinions and thoughts on how I raise my kids, and parent because I was living in fear that I would be judged harshly as well. My feelings of inadequacy were blossoming as a result.

I'm not a crafty mom.

I don't spend enough time at my kids school.

I am not the "fun" mom who is off adventuring with her kids each day.

I don't do attachment parenting.

I am too harsh. Don't cuddle enough. Spend too much time working.

The list, the judging I was doing to myself was more than a brief look inward. I wasn't trying to reassess where I was as a parent. It was pure punishment that only ended up making me like less and less of a mother and as a person. I came away from each of these moments liking myself less and wanting more. It was and is totally unsatisfying.

I am vowing with each day to be better to my friends, to women and others in general. I am trying to go with the flow more, to take each day as it comes and treat my children with less judgement too. I have to accept that how I parent is different and it is still OK even if we don't make popcorn chains, tin can vases, tissue paper flowers or homemade granola. We have our own unique moments that make our family our own. And that is just as good and what works for us. The creed I had adopted early on as a parent had slipped away but now I need to reinforce it again. What works for you may not work for someone else. You can only do what is right within your own family and selves. Don't JUDGE others if you don't want them to JUDGE you.

Read Kristen Chase's post on This Ordinary Life for another fine example of happy parenting, happy self.

The 10k FAIL?

So...I'm supposed to run this thing called a 10k in a few weeks. December 13 to be exact. A few weeks back this seemed like a fabulous idea. Then I got sick. The cold from hell descended on our humble abode and took all of us, minus TD, under. It was like some Kraken from the deep. Everyone got better except me. Two weeks later, still sick and crying from the sheer sick of being sick syndrome I headed to my local Urgent Care one night this week.

Sinus Infection. No wonder I felt like my face was imploding, cracking and generally falling apart with pain.

Throughout this time of plague I haven't been able to run. Weeks of no running have gone by. I got three miles in, maybe. There's been no cross-training, no training runs. No nothing. The coughing, the body aches, the lack of sleep- it was just too much.

I'm set to run seven miles Saturday and then in two weeks it is the 10k. I feel a big fat, FAIL coming on. I need to make it in 1:05 or less to qualify for the half-marathon I want to run in March. However, I'm feeling less than optimistic. If I can pull off a good time Saturday maybe my confidence will be restored, but right now while my body is feeling better, my mind is messing with my head. The word is still out on my lungs. They aren't really returning my calls right now, but I think they'll survive.

I've wanted this so badly for so long it seems and now I'm feeling so depleted in spirit I just don't know if I can pull it off. It's all setting up to making me feel less than me and I don't like it one bit.

The Triple Threat

I turn 33 today. H has been calling me 'the Triple Threat' for the last few weeks. Technically, I think I need to be 333 years old if I really want to be a triple threat but if I were 333 I don't think I would be too much of a threat to anyone except Medicare.

In the past I've had my share of bad birthday karma but since my twenties I have evaded it quite nicely. H works his butt off each year to make sure it doesn't happen. This year we went away as a family for a quiet weekend at my MIL's on the water. We had an amazing night out with drinks followed by a perfect dinner for two. The next day as I was reading on the couch (read: half asleep for the second nap of the day.) my parents burst in the door surprising me with a visit. If I count the night out, the surprise visit, and a fabulous dinner of cheeseburgers and my fave coconut cake, H really did provide a triple threat of sorts for my big 33.

Today, it's rainy and humid. My hair is a frizzy mess and I'm spending the day tackling the laundry monster and doing PBS homework with TD. Honestly? I'm just so happy that I'm not desk jockeying it and that is enough for me.

Say a big 'Congratulations!' to Lattes and Life. She gave birth to a beautiful 9 lb plus baby girl on Friday!

The Walls. They are Closing in on Me.

Who knew that birthday gift aftermath is just like Christmas gift aftermath. Our living room is a sea of ridiculously bright wrapping paper, twisty ties and various sizes of plastic and cardboard. Just seeing it this morning made me want to turn around and go back upstairs to hide under the covers. Both kids need a bath today and I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I feel old.

Throw in the fact that H is going to a networking happy hour tonight and will be home late and I just want to start imbibing the happy juice myself all before 10 a.m. I think that the fact that I know I won't be getting my weekly dose of girls night this week is making me a bit loopy. I've been asked to "take some time off from that for a while". My weekly dose of girl time/adult interaction/conversations that are not interrupted is gone. Just thinking about makes me wish for a sound proof room for me to go into so I can scream for a good ten minutes. Or just walk out the door with only my purse.

Let me ask you something Internets- How much time do you need to yourself in a week? Here I am just having written a piece about women not being angry and taking the time they need for themselves and I'm not able to do that for myself. Oh the irony.

The Modern Day Lullaby

It's probably not good that I found myself singing Dash Two this song today as a lullaby. I'm that tired.

To be fair, is there anything really wrong with cornbread? I didn't think so. How many of you have caught yourself singing some inappropriate song to a little one anyways? I can't be the only one guilty of this.

Maybe next week when I've gotten some gym time courtesy of those free week long passes gyms string you along with. You know the ones- where they hope upon hope that you'll cough up an introductory fee, your left lung and perhaps some free local press after they suck an additional transaction fee out of your bank account just because.

Maybe then I'll feel more energized and I'll be awake enough for date night (ooh date night- a.k.a. asleep by 9 p.m.) where a white Russian won't act like an Ambien on me.

There's Nothing Like the Smell of Chemicals in the Morning

Bug Spray. Exterminator juices (well, that sounds kind of ick, now doesn't it?) or what have you. There is nothing I like more than sitting in an enclosed space and seeing the exterminator walk through the door with his little spraying canister device. And then start spraying the office I'm waiting in. Including all around the couch that I'm sitting on and into every nook and cranny.

While I appreciate my mechanics effort to be bug free what with those enticing candy machines for lost children, vending machines and the free hot muddy substance they call coffee all over the place, I do not like hanging out with or without TD and literally being sprayed as if I'm the cockroach in the corner.

It might smell like victory to the exterminator but to me it just smells a bit unsafe.

Read here for some alarming news.

A Meme for Me?! Aww... You Shouldn't Have

I've been tagged for a meme courtesy of Lattes and Life.

The rules: Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.

What was I doing ten years ago? Let's see.....I was in my senior year of college. Going to school full-time and wrapping up sorority life. I was panicked about finding a job and had just met H. Life was a whirlwind that seemed so stressful at the time but now seems so carefree.

What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list for today:
T.D.'s first hair cut. Got to get rid of that Nick Nolte mug shot look
Pick up fondue items for GNO
Shower
Pay a speeding ticket
Wallow in the world of potty training


5 Snacks I enjoy:
cheeses- from sliced American to something stinky I love it.
s'mores
popcorn
soft serve ice cream (I could hurt someone for that right now)
cut- up fruit- be it mango, pineapple, strawberries or even orange slices I love it.

Things I would do if I were a billionaire: A billionaire huh? Well, first pay off all debt. Then take a simple vacation to figure out what we wanted to do with the money. I would most likely set up a foundation or two for domestic violence in my area and others. Raising awareness for that would be key. As well as setting up a scholarship fund at my old high school and university for students who were a lot like me. Then house-hunting. I would buy a home in the District, then on the beach in RI, next stop France and then who knows. I would spend my time volunteering and helping out others. Yes, there would be shopping but the gathering of stuff would not be my life. I would help out my family too.

Places I have lived:
Massachusetts
Various RI locales
Dumfries, VA
Vista, CA
Texas (I picked up a nice twang there)
High Point, NC (I realized the South was not for a "damn Yankee" like me. Hey, I was called that unprovoked many times in my stay there. Talk about feeling welcome. And yet, I still find the South charming for the most part.)
Rockville, MD & College Park, MD (ah, sweet freedom)
Various CT locations
29 Palms & Yucca Valley, CA (want to turn into turkey jerky in less than a few hours? Here's the place!)
Am I forgetting a place?

Jobs I have had: Also known as - how can I put you to sleep
Cashier at Hallmark, Benny's and CVS (dude, this last job rocked! I would write horribly bad "deep, dark poetry" and stick it on my register for the customers to read. Mgmt. was not pleased.)
I worked at a local sandwich shop on the beach- The Weekapaug Inlet- holler if you know it!
History Dept at HPU
Travel agent for UMD faculty (ooh how I loved going over receipts and denying folks for buying extravagant items while on a work trip.)
Student Activities Accounts Mgr. (ooh how I loved denying groups who were snotty or rude to me money for activities. NO PIZZA FOR YOU!)
Documentation analyst- DHS
Wage Specialist- DoD a.k.a govt. drone
Material Cost Estimator- Company A (obviously not its real name) a.k.a. slave to the proposal system.
Client Services Manager
Receptionist
Motel maid (about a day until I realized how no one else was cleaning the rooms, just me.)
Arbonne Consultant (still am!)
Technical writer for a company suspiciously like Initech. I prefer to think of it as the time I wished for a terminal illness (I'm dead serious) and worked on the Death Star for Darth Vader. She knows what I'm talking about.
I know there is more...

So now I'm supposed to tag five poor bloggers to do this- Sorry folks. Smack me later. I pick...
Reality Travel
Where in the World
A Catalog of Bitch
Sarah, Goon Squad, Sarah
A Parent in Silver Spring


Be sure to stop by and say hi to the first two blogs up there...they just got off and running and would love the comments, I'm sure! And of course, the last three are pretty cool bloggers as well, so you'll want to see what they've been up to lately. Have fun guys!

New Obsessions

I used to obsess about handbags and cute sandals. Really. Just weeks ago. Accessories and nail polishes were like air to me. These days all my creative juices seem sapped by a guppy-sized being inhabiting my lower regions. My desires for cute butt jeans and wedge heels have transferred to working myself into a lather over just the idea of a Pizza Hut pan pizza only for me.

When I sit down to work all I can think of is how brownies repulse me and the idea of a nachos bell grande seems like pure bliss. My house never feels clean and I want to change my sheets daily. I yearn to plant acres of flowers and all ideas of baking have been put aside.

I am not pregnant I have had a lobotomy. People say this about mothers all the time. "Oh she had that baby and now she never goes anywhere without it. She is all about the baby all the time and can talk nothing but bottles and binkys." In some cases this is true. I have met these women. I have friends who have gone over to this side and I've yet to see them in something other than what can only be called "Mom Jeans." For me this first trimester has been one of intense mind and body numbing sickness and exhaustion. T.D. has clocked more TV time than a Nielsen family. I am never alone. The guppy is always with me reminding me that the tuna sandwich I wanted to maim someone for at lunch time is now a less than stellar idea. Chocolate cake and cookies makes me gag. My mind works in only one way. Sick today? Not sick today. Sick this moment? Oh wait- sick RIGHT NOW!

I obsess over food drooling over pumpernickel bread and take as much care slathering on melted butter as I once did with writing up reviews or articles about living green. My need to ingest massive amounts of Newsweek and NPR has tapered. It's like I'm slightly dead or frozen inside.

Where have I gone? How does a guppy already hold so much sway? They say parenting changes you but really it is not until moments like this that we see how much.

I want my old brain back and my personal pan pizza.