My Bucket List

Yesterday was the Detroit Free Press Marathon. No, I did not run it - nor did I run the half-marathon OR the 5K OR the relay - but it did get me thinking. Would I ever WANT to run 13.1 miles?

And my answer?

Yes. Maybe. I think so.

To be honest with you, I am scared. Running was never my "thing." In fact, I hated it with a fiery passion until recently. My first Big House Big Heart turned me on to running, as I walked with Drew and watched all the runners fly past me and celebrate inside Michigan Stadium at the end. For the very first time in my life I thought, "wow, that looks kind of fun!"

As I wondered about the half-marathon, it got me thinking about all the other things I'd like to do in my lifetime - the important events I want to witness, the silly trips I'd like to take, the memories I'd like to make with my family. So, without further ado, here is my (current) bucket list of sorts (in no particular order) -

1) Watch my boys grow up and do whatever makes them happy in life (Dear God, don't let me outlive them. If You grant me nothing else in this life, I will die happy knowing I died before them)

2) Love on my grandchildren and rock them to sleep

3) Go back to Hawaii, especially Maui (*le sigh*)

4) Actually become a bone-fide runner (run a few more 5Ks, then move to 10Ks, then figure out if I want to REALLY do a half-marathon)

5) Get in shape and stay there

6) Finish what I've started - scrapbooks, sewing projects, etc ...

7) Find a career that really makes me happy in my core...and pursue it after the boys are in college

8) Go back to Europe and this time, visit Italy

9) See all 50 states for real (airports do NOT count)

10) Take the boys on a Disney cruise

11) Grow old with Bill, but not outlive him (I know, this one is weird - I just don't think I could handle it)

12) Watch my grandchildren grow up

13) Become more involved in my Church

14) See a day when CHD is as well known as other health issues, funding for research is great and better treatments are saving even more lives

15) Learn to cook ... I mean REALLY cook

16) Learn to dance

17) Learn to play the piano

18) Become conversational in Spanish again and learn to speak Italian fluently as well

19) Write something (short story, novel, series of essays, whatever - something!)

20) Be remembered as a good person - someone who was a true friend, a loving mother, a faithful wife, and a good human being who put others before herself

( I am, of course, continuously working on this one - I will ALWAYS be a work in progress)

I made add to this as the years go by, but I don't think I'll take anything off of it. These are the things that first came to me, and I think they seem fairly reasonable. Of course, some of them I know I have NO control over, but they're on it all the same.

So...what's on YOUR bucket list?

Overwhelmed

Lately, I have been feeling pretty overwhelmed.

Bill has been working a tons of hours, Drew is going through a phase where we battle over something nearly every day, and Emmett is teething and learning to crawl - thus up multiple times at night once again. Add to this the fact that I have been miserably sick for nearly a week, it's the busy season for my business...OH, and did I mention the little tidbit that we put in an offer on a foreclosed home and now are hustling to list our current home?

Yeah. Stressed. To. The. Max.

I am feeling overwhelmed and like I am failing in all aspects of my life...especially parenting. I am a Love and Logic parent, or at least I used to be. Since Drew entered this new phase of constant disobedience and acting out, I am resorting to tactics I swore I would never implement. Yelling. I am ashamed, embarrassed, angry with myself, etc, etc... The stress of trying to get this house ready to list, plus running on limited sleep, is only compounding this phase we're going through with Drew. My sweet little man has become quite the devil at times. I know it's the age. I know there is some jealousy over Emmett. I know he needs/wants independence, which accounts for some of his frustrations. But, dammit, I just want to say something once and have him comply, without having to go through the whole rigmarole of giving him his choices and disciplining with a natural consequence if he doesn't do what I ask. I want one day that doesn't end in tears - his and mine.

I know lack of sleep plays a role as well in feeling like this. I am not good on little sleep. Never have been. When I have a newborn, I just seem to go n autopilot until I snap. Since E has been sleeping through the night for quite some time now, it's like a rude awakening to have him constantly up, crying, wanting me to rock him. I have started to let him cry it out because, I'm sorry, I am going insane with the lack of sleep. 4 hours/night is NOT enough. It is not OK. Then, I feel guilty because my sweet little baby is crying for me. While, intellectually, I know he is fine, he has every capability of soothing himself back to sleep and that he's just angry that I am not responding to him, it does feel like I am failing him. But, every morning, he greets me with a huge smile that seems to say, "It's OK, Mommy! I cried for awhile, then I slept really well and now, I am ready to play!"

Back to what I think is the main issue....this new house business...

Can I just say, sometimes I feel like I am on the verge of having a panic attack?! I can basically guarantee you that, if we didn't have this issue in our lives, I would probably be way more relaxed about Drew's acting out behaviors and not getting sleep. Probably. I can't say for sure. What I CAN say is that this is damn stressful. I have never bought a house before, much less tried to sell one. And with this craptastic housing market, I feel like I can't breathe when I think about all the "what ifs." Now, the rational side of me recognizes how this house is perfect for the right buyer...and that we're pricing it to entice said right buyer. Irrational/Afraid of Being House Poor Mary is freaking out that no one is going to want this house. And then, well, I just might have to work a *real* job.

No, thank you. I am just fine staying home with my boys and working very part time with my business. But, I don't have the luxury of making selfish decisions when it comes to the best interests of my family. So, if needed, back to work I would go until we sold our current house. If I could get hired that is...but that's another story (thank you saturated job market and tanking economy).

So, there you have it. If you know me in real life, and I have been distant, it's because I am silently freaking out and driving myself crazy with worry. Because I feel like every day is so completely overwhelming right now with the combination of things that are going on. I know this, too, shall pass. And, hey, we are on the verge of something really awesome with this new house. As long as we sell the current one. But, let's stop worrying for one night. Time to get some sleep so I can try to be a better Mom in the morning.

Wordless Wednesday

On Germs, the Congenital Heart Walk and Preschool

Last Friday, the hubs and I awoke to an eerily familiar sound coming from Drew's room.

In between him crying and yelling, we heard the telltale sounds of croup.

And with that, cold and flu season was officially upon us. And school hadn't started yet even. Awesome.

Drew and I spent 4 glorious hours in the local peds ER, where he charmed the pants off everyone in the joint - including one CNA, who wanted to take him home - and where I had to hide him from the random things you see in an ER that no child should see. A dose of liquid steroid, a breathing treatment and some observation, and we were on our way home - to our beds - at 5:00am.

Poor Drew missed the Congenital Heart Walk on Sunday. As he was contagious still, there was no way I was taking him around children with compromised immune systems. I had several moments of being upset that he was not going to be there. In the end, however, the walk was simply lovely. Emmett and I went to honor Drew, and many members of my family joined us there. It was a beautiful morning, and the walk route was lined with gorgeous older homes. It was perfectly serene and scenic. And another reminder of how blessed I am that Drew is healthy (you know, aside from croup) and doing well.

He WAS well enough, however, to attend his first day of preschool on Tuesday!! My li'l man is in preschool. Where does time go? He was SO excited!! His grandparents bought him a Lightening McQueen backpack that he's just been dying to wear, so he proudly strutted into school with his backpack on and his head held high, ready to start his academic life. I walked behind him in a daze, trying to remember when he got to be so big. We were able to stay for the first hour of class. At one point, Mr. Independent turned to me and said, "you go now Momma, I see you later!" He was ready to be on his own, with his teachers and his friends, knowing I would come back to get him when school was over. I am happy to report that when I picked him up, he ran to the door with a huge grin and hugged me. That warmed my heart. And then, we all went to Red Robin to celebrate with Daddy.

My little family makes me happy. I am blessed in so many ways.

10 years later ...

Sunday marks the 10th anniversary of the worst tragedy on US soil - the terror attacks of September 11, 2001.

I was in graduate school, and Tuesdays were my "late" day - meaning I just had a night class. So, being 21 and all, I was sleeping in. I had my alarm set for 9am, which was just shortly after the attacks began. When my alarm went off, I was groggy and I quickly hit snooze, for five more minutes of sleep. I rolled over and thought to myself, "wait a minute, what did he just say?" And I sat up in bed and turned on my TV. I could hardly believe my eyes.

I felt a huge sense of fear, and panic, and also I was a little bit weirded out because, just the night before, my one professor had been going on and on about how we spend too much money on the military and was specifically lamenting the money spent at the Pentagon - as well as the level of security there. To him, it was all pointless and there were much better ways to spend money. I was incredulous, but said nothing because it was pointless in his class. On the walk back to the graduate dorm, my friend and I were talking about class. I remember going on and on about how if people were going to attack our country, the Pentagon would be the first place they would hit. And then, I wake up just as a plane is going into the Pentagon. It was truly a W.T.F. moment in my life.

Making the situation worse for me and my ever increasing sense of fear and panic was that my sister was working in Washington, DC at the time. And none of us could get a hold of her. Finally, she was able to send an email saying she was fine and was going to stay where she was until this was all over and they knew more about what was going on. If you don't remember, there was a real sense of not knowing what was going on for awhile. Reports were coming out all over the place about bombs, planes and other things. No one knew if this would end soon, or continue through the day. As the day wore on, and it was apparent that they were over, reality began to set in.

Yes, this really happened.

And so, I wept for my fellow Americans, senselessly murdered that day. I wept for their families - spouses, children, parents. These are people who went to work that morning, or boarded a plane, never expecting to not go home when the day (or the trip) was over. And, just like that, they were gone.

I left class early to watch the President's address later that evening. No, our school didn't cancel classes and yes, I actually went to part of it. We all simultaneously stood up about a 1/2 an hour before the address was to begin and walked out. I think our professor was shocked, but I really don't understand why HE didn't want to watch it too.

And that brings me to THIS September 11th, 10 years after the fact. We will remember those who perished, and pray for them and their families. We will attend the Congenital Heart Walk and be with our friends and family there. And last, but certainly not least, we will celebrate my niece's 21st birthday. Oh yes, she shares her special day with this national tragedy and ten years ago, we made it clear to her that she was to go on celebrating her day, and being happy. If she could do that, then she would truly be honoring those who died that day by NOT allowing the terrorists to steal her joy on her birthday.

May God bless America.

Off the Wagon

The weight loss wagon that is.

No, I haven't gained any weight - I've just ... plateaued. Oh sure, my body fat percentage is in the athletic range (ca-a-raaaazy, but true), but those 3 digits on the scale need to start going down again.

I know what my problem is - tasty treats that I've allowed to sneak back into my diet.

But, starting today, that is no more! I have a mere 13 lbs to go to my goal weight and that's coming off before the stupid holidays get here. Oh, and this WILL be the first year I don't put one pound on during the holidays. My freakin' sweet goal jeans (which I, of course, have already selected) need a forever home, dang it.

And with that, I am hoisting myself back on the wagon. I will be "staying honest" by blogging more and documenting this last bit of my struggle. So, keep me honest peeps.

Please?

:)

A Mother's Body

Our society places a lot of unrealistic demands on women, especially mothers, to look a certain way. Women such as Jessica Alba, Victoria Beckham and Angelina Jolie are plastered on the covers of magazines in our neighborhood grocery check out lanes. We are told that *this* is how WE should look. Magazine cover stories all but scream "Look at her! You should look like this! It's soooo easy!!!"at unsuspecting (and sometimes fragile) women just trying to feed their families.

Well, excuse me, but who the hell are YOU to tell ME how I should look?

Let's be honest - these women have full time help and money to burn. So, they can hit up the gym for hours each day, get a personal trainer, and pay someone to cook healthy meals for them then serve said meals in the correct portion size. There is no guess work, no juggling a clingy baby on one hip while you weigh your chicken on a scale, no being called away from cutting up vegetables to clean up the spill in the living room. They don't spend hours up at night with a colicky newborn, then have hours to burn at the gym. It just doesn't work like that. If someone is telling me that she has 3 hrs/day to spend at the gym, eats perfectly portioned servings of food at every meal, showers, puts on make up and real clothes every day and has date night once/week - with a 3-month-old at home - I am going to tell her she is full of shit. Or lying. One of the two. Either way, I am calling shenanigans.

And this is who you think I - a work at home mom of 1 active little boy and 1 infant who is just starting (somewhat) sleeping through the night - should look like?

Piss off.

The only way I am able to do what I am doing with my body is because I am extraordinarily blessed to have an understanding husband and be able to afford boot camp and healthy food. It's as simple as that.

These days, I am making a concentrated effort to choose to focus on being healthy and becoming strong. On being secure in my own skin. Too many women lament how their bodies are imperfect - and don't get me wrong, I do too. But the truth of that matter is, if you're a mother, you've experienced something miraculous -- a new life growing inside of you. And that needs to trump feeling sad about the stretch marks all over your body. Just remember, those women in those magazines are airbrushed - real women are not.

I am happy to see sites and tributes dedicated to the changes a mother's body has undergone. A couple of my new favorites include Birthmarks and The Shape of a Mother.

It's about time we start celebrating our bodies and the lives they've nourished and brought into this world. It's time we start looking to each other as role models, instead of celebrities. It's time we focus on being healthy, strong and happy - instead of what society tells us the "perfect" mom should look like.

Your baby thinks you're perfect just the way you are, because you love him/her unconditionally. Love yourself the same way.

And yes, I'll try to take my own advice! ;)