This is one of those phrases in the Bible that always had me scratching my head. Even when I was a kid I wondered what exactly this meant. Respecting your parents sounded sort of right, but it should be more than that, too. Since I didn’t grow up in a perfect family – I was raised by my grandparents – I decided that it really meant to honor the people who raised you.
However, as I got older and now that I’m a parent I have different ideas about what it may mean. For example, I don’t think it just means whoever raised you should be respected or honored. I think it applies more to the way you live your life. My parents didn’t raise me. There are plenty of things they did wrong – the key factor being absence – but they are also the reason I exist in this world. There would be no Nicky without the story of Ginny & Lee (my parents). There would be no Abigail without the story of Nicky & Ricardo. Life is a gift and, let’s face it, it’s a gift that relies on two people to occur. We know we have to do our utmost to make sure that this little person becomes the best person possible – not only for their sake, or our sake, but for the sake of the world around us; for the sake of the lives they will touch as they grow. And, for the sake of their children.
So I decided that the key factor in honoring my parents would be to live my life in a way that would acknowledge and maybe in some ways repay that gift they gave me. It would be a shame, and a sin, to waste my life. It would dishonor my parents to become embittered, or angry at the world, or lazy, or a bad parent in turn.
I’ve actually had people think that I must have come from one of those picture-perfect families – you can tell by how shocked they are to find out otherwise – because I seem so, I don’t know, normal or well-adjusted or something. Certainly, you can’t look at my life now and immediately point out clues that say “broken home.” That is how I honor my father and my mother. That is how I honor my grandparents. That is how I honor my great-grandmother and great-grandfather, both of whom I was fortunate enough to know.
I never think of myself as a great success story, because I am just myself, after all. I can see, however, that there is a large difference between the way I live my life and the way I could have lived my life if I disregarded that commandment. I cherish the life I have now, even if it sprang from dysfunction. It is my choice to honor my parents by becoming the best person I can be. Even more so to become the best parent I can be. It also has become clear to me that you can honor your parents without having a perfect family or a perfect relationship with your parents. I know, for example, that it’s bad for me to let my dad be a part of my life. He loves me, but he can’t function in a healthy relationship. I do not dishonor him by cutting him out of my life. In fact, I honor him by doing this – because I am choosing to do what is best for me – knowing that my being a better person reflects on him. I don’t cut him out of my life out of spite, which would be bad. I do it to keep us from going through the emotional wringer over and over again. My cultivating only healthy relationships means that I can be happier, kinder, more empathetic, and more stable as a person. You can honor your forbears by being the best version of yourself you can be.
That gives me some hope for Abigail, because I know all parents make mistakes. I will make mistakes with her. I’ve probably already made hundreds. The key is that I hope to teach her to honor me by growing into the best woman she can be. Even if our relationship falls apart; even if I were to die tomorrow, she has a chance to honor me just by growing up to strive for the best version of herself she can find. She can cherish this gift of life instead of following self-destructive patterns or getting into trouble. Even if she grows up and hates me; I will be honored if she can move past that and be a good person despite my shortcomings.
Maybe that’s not all there is to it. Or maybe I am completely off-base, but that’s how I’ve begun to understand this idea and it does seem to have a positive effect on my life and the lives of those around me. So I’m sticking to it.

Can someone under a year old really throw a tantrum? Short answer: yes! It never would’ve crossed my mind. I had to experience the trauma to understand that, yes, someone under two feet tall with a vocabulary limited to the first halves of the word “kitty” and “daddy” – obviously I didn’t make the cut – can indeed get their point across by raising hell. Mayhem, thy name is Abigail.
Lately, I’ve had firsthand experience with this tantrum thing. Abigail is cutting some molars, I think, and she has started refusing (with gusto) formula in favor of solid foods and milk. She always fights sleep like it is evil incarnate, but lately she lulled me into a false sense of security by wanting to be put down without a fuss for naps and bedtime.
Here’s the thing I’ve learned about baby sleep. There is a window. It is like the Holy Grail of napdom. You will quest endlessly for this window. It’s a subtle creature to hunt. Sometimes your only chance of catching it is to be hypersensitive to your baby’s gestures or habits. If you miss this window and don’t get your baby down in time then you are in for Hell. Not the nice “oh-Hell-isn’t-really-a-place” Hell. No, you’re in for Dante’s version of Hell with multiple levels of suck-the-life-out-of-you. Listening to an exhausted child caterwaul and carry on for lack of sleep will wring your heart and stain your soul. You will feel like the worst parent that ever disgraced the title. Just keep in mind…it happens to all of us.
We aren’t mind readers – as fun as that could be – and knowing exactly when your child is ready for a nap is hard. There are days when they want more sleep. There are days when they just don’t feel that tired. There are days when you think they want less sleep and then they take a four hour nap in the afternoon. There are days when they are desperately tired and nothing you do with make them go down in the crib with any reaction less than equal to what you would do if someone was trying to lob you into a volcano.
You will be kicked. And headbutted…and even have your arms and shoulder sockets wrenched by trying desperately to keep this little flesh-tornado from injuring itself (because you know when it ends that’s your little angel in there somewhere). It’s a thankless task to try and get a baby to bed.
The tantrums, I’m told, are a good thing.
It means your child is secure enough in your love, and the world around them, to test limits because they know they’ll be safe. (Even if it means Mommy is in tears and has pulled nearly every muscle in her body trying to keep them from self-inflicting permanent brain damage.) I don’t know how true that is – especially at this age – but I can’t help but think I my child must be VERY secure. It’s harder on us, I guess, because we’re wondering what happened to our sweethearts.
Still, I must be doing something right because I know that after my dear one falls safely asleep she will sleep well. And when she wakes up she will look at me and smile. She will not look at me with accusation or resentment because I made her go to bed. No…she will have forgotten it all. All she will know is that she’s re-energized and alert and, thank goodness, Mommy is here.

One of the great ironies of my life is this: I thrive with a fixed schedule and I am horrible at sticking to a schedule. You’d think that as much good as it does me I would be able to stick to some kind of routine, but for me routine is hard, hard, hard. Maybe it’s my ADD. Maybe it’s the chaotic nature of life. Maybe it’s gremlins living under my bed. Who can say, really?

The hard truth is that I suck at sticking to any kind of routine, but I have noticed the when I can manage it my life and outlook improves greatly. In college it was a trial for me – classes were never day-to-day things – and the only thing that could straighten me out was to sit down and map out my day in a table in Word. I would just list my week, Sunday to Saturday in columns and then times by the half-hour from 8am to 6pm or so. I’d fill in my classes and block out those cells of the table. Then, at the bottom of the page, I’d leave a little group of lines that I could fill in with my to-do list. You know, 10p paper due 3/2. If I scheduled something extra I’d write it into a cell of the table and block it out in pen. Anal retentive? Maybe, but it worked.

So, since I have a munchkin in tow everywhere I go, I’m rethinking my little schedule thing. Don’t get me wrong; you aren’t going to catch me running around with a by-the-half-hour schedule in a three ring binder next week. I am, however, considering the wisdom of posting little things like chore charts on the fridge for myself and a little list of personal goals on the bathroom mirror. Simple things: go to Boot Camp, or go for a long walk. The kinds of things that will help me add a little structure to the idea that I should be taking care of myself. It won’t hurt to get that structure for Abigail, either. Little kids thrive on structure. You’d think the mutinous little cretins -ahem- I mean dear, sweet angels – would be happier with a free-flowing schedule, but no. Not so. Kids do better with a schedule. It’s a proven fact, for all that it blows, and I’ve got to make some adjustments so that our lives can be a little more harmonious.

I’m good about naps at certain times, bedtime routines, and all that. There are certain things we do on certain days – Spirit Moms on Wednesdays and Baby Boot Camp, for example – but there’s not really a steady rhythm to our week. Abigail is, thank the Lord, a pretty mellow baby when it comes to going with the flow, but I don’t doubt that as she gets older and more aware of the world around her the security of a routine will be good for her.  That means I have to get myself in line first. (And as a side note, if anyone has found out what happened the the adulthood I expected when I was a kid, point me in that direction, would you? I want that do-whatever-I-want thing and I’ve been missing out.)

It’s a strange position to be in. I’ve never been the center of anyone’s world before. I mean yeeeeeah my husband worships the ground I walk on and yada, yada, yada, but really our relationship is an adult relationship where, when push comes to shove, we can take care of ourselves without a hitch. We’re self-reliant and the benefits of our relationship is the flexibility of  I-can-lean-on-you/I-stand-alone. It’s what makes adult relationships work, I think – the mutual attraction of someone who can conquer the world without you, but wants to lay it at your feet when they’re done.

Children, on the other hand, are entirely dependent – even when they get older and they don’t think they are – and that is a whole new animal.

Suddenly, I am the focal point of the whole family. I set the pace. I set the schedule, and the tone for our days, and I am the one who keeps all the balls in the air. It’s uncomfortable…but it’s nice, too.  It just means I have more to think about when I wake up in the morning and consider the day ahead of me. It’s just not about me anymore. It’s about us. It’s not just a simple us, either. It’s US. You, me, baby, two cats, and the world to explore in such a way that this little person realizes it is brimming with the potential for happiness…and unfortunately not perfectly safe. Atlas got nothin’ on mamas.

So, I’ve got to develop The Schedule. THE Schedule. A this-is-how-it’s-gonna-be schedule that we can all live with. (Okay, fine…that I can live with.) I have to think about what’s best for me so I can do what’s best for everyone else. Isn’t that a novelty?

Okay, so I don’t think I’ve mentioned this here – though I know it’s all over Facebook…’cause that’s how I roll…but anyway: Baby Boot Camp! Woo! Don’t worry, it’s not a boot camp for babies. I wouldn’t send my baby to boot camp. I mean, maybe when she’s older if we have discipline issues or something, but even then I’d like to think that I could whip her into shape myself.

Get to the point you say? Fine. Be that way. Baby Boot Camp is a boot camp for moms with babies who want to work out without having to leave their child in the germy, crowded gym daycare (or the regular germy daycare…or with the mother-in-law…or…well you get it). Mom straps the kiddo into the stroller, puts on some I-don’t-care-if-I-sweat-through-these clothes and gets to work out with a bunch of other mommies and babies. It’s a nice we-all-have-that-belly-fat environment and a good way to make some friends. Let’s face it, moms need all the friends they can get.

It doesn’t hurt that it helps the babies socialize, too. Plus, the entertainment value of watching mom and her friends flail around like Ritalin-addicted monkeys for an hour cannot be denied. Even when mom isn’t funny, she’s fascinating, right?

Every mom (who isn’t a freak of nature) is out of shape after a pregnancy. Our bodies have done what I like to call “continental shift” so that even if you hit the same weight it is highly unlikely that you’re hitting the same measurements. Those pre-pregnancy clothes really should be burned just to spare our egos and fragile postpartum self image. Boot Camp is a good solution for getting back into shape – especially if you, like me, are a stay-at-home mom and have a hard time going anywhere without at least one munchkin in tow. I’ve seen moms in Boot Camp with two kids and may I say brava. I go to Boot Camp with one kid and some days I end up late, already panting and sweaty, and ready to cry. (Because really, what is up with kids and mornings, anyway?)

Now, I can’t speak for every Baby Boot Camp franchise everywhere, but the one here is such a great workout and blend of activities. I went in sort of dreading it because, um, hello? it’s called BOOT CAMP. However, it turned out to be a smart choice. The instructor always plans out exercises with alternatives for those of us who are new, adjusting, or having trouble with certain things. Example: last week I had hurt my shoulder so when we started triceps pushups she showed me an easy alternative with a resistance band to save my shoulder, but still work the muscles. Also, there are at least three or four different ways you can do pushups or planks to accommodate your fitness level. Who knew?

The real killer for me is cardio. I can build muscle like nobody I know, but put my butt on a treadmill and I’m dying in under a minute. I’ve never been great at the heart/lungs part of a workout. Thankfully, that’s beginning to change and it’s not like we do half an hour of running. Everything is broken up into little chunks so that you aren’t going to burn yourself out. The results are undeniable. My tummy still jiggles, yes, but I have abs of steel hiding under there and my arms and legs are getting very nicely toned.

AND…having other women showing up every day is a big motivator. You miss for a while and your friends notice you’re gone. You miss seeing people you know so even on days when you don’t want to get out of bed you have a reason to get up and do it anyway. It’s great to be working out in a group setting. It motivates me more than if I were going solo, or even if I were working out with just one partner. I look around and see all these other women getting into shape…and it keeps me from just calling it quits. We all want to look good, sure, but we’re all there because we want to keep up with our children and give them the best version of Mom that we can. Whoever thought this up was a flippin’ genius.

The highlight of my day: Stroller Skating! In an attempt to branch out and stretch my eensy-weensy comfort zone I accepted a group invitation to go roller skating with Abigail in her stroller! Woohoo! I’m not going lie and say it was easy, because it has been years and years since I’ve skated, but it was so much fun! I got a pretty good workout in – my legs were quick to let me know that we were using new muscles, here – despite missing Baby Boot Camp this morning. Abigail didn’t seem to care, though. She just sat back in the stroller, chillin’ with the paci while I pushed her around the rink. Maybe if we’d been ice skating? lol
Anyway, the day will only get better, because tonight…Iron Man 3 at the Studio Movie Grill! Ricardo had me book Abigail for Adventure Kids, and Wednesdays are endless pizza nights at the theater. BAM! Could life get any better? (Answer: no, no it could not.)
Now, I just have to see if I can convince some other moms to be adventerous and come STroller skating with me some other time!
Short, but sweet. I shall blog again!

Wow! Today was just such a lazy day for me. I went nowhere. I didn’t even go out to check the mail. I slept late, partly thanks to the baby and partly thanks to my husband. So, tonight I am making my copycat recipe for the Zuppa Toscana from Olive Garden. I <3 that soup. A LOT. I was pretty excited when I found a copycat recipe online and I got to the point where I can make it without the recipe. I’ve even changed a few things so that it tastes more like I want. (For example, I always use more chicken broth. I like my soup soupier.) Fortunately, it’s a recipe the husband likes so I can make it pretty much whenever I want AND it’s not too bad on the healthy-food scale thanks to the potatoes and kale. (The basic ingredients are Italian sausage, russet potatoes, chicken broth, cream, and kale – with some red pepper flakes in there just for kicks.)

If you’re asking ‘wtf is kale’? then you’re like me…and not a self-proclaimed “foodie” or “gourmand” up on the latest food trends…so I’ll tell you. Kale is basically just one of those crazy green, leafy plants you find all over the supermarket. It looks a little like the love child of parsley and romaine lettuce. It’s not the best taste in the world on its lonesome, but it’s like a super-garnish for soup. Some enterprising people can turn it into kale chips by baking it tossed in olive oil and salt. All I got was crispy-burnt kale with salt. However, in this soup it soaks up a lot of flavor from the broth and Italian sausage and if you add it right before it’s done then it doesn’t get super-soggy and adds texture to the soup. Apparently it is being used more and more often, which I only know because now I can find it in WalMart.

Anyway – special dinner since I got to do nothing all day.

However…it hasn’t exactly been stress-free today. Abigail is on this kick where she’s gotten suuuuuper clingy, but mostly it’s just cute so we’re making adjustments. It’s like a game of human paddleball, though. She goes to play with toys…she comes back and tries to climb into my lap….she goes to play with toys…she comes back and…well you get the idea. She just wants to rubberband back and forth like that all day, and if I want to go to the kitchen for a drink or something (where she can’t follow me) it’s stand at the baby gate and cry. Not teary-eyed crying, but like you imagine Valkyries cry on their way into a battle. It’s both annoying and vaguely frightening.

The real bonus, though, is that my husband got me a Nook HD+ for Mother’s Day/ my birthday so I’ve been able to take some time today to play around with it. It’s basically just a 9″ Android tablet….so not only is it like reading a backlit hardcover book, but it has apps. I’m currently trying to set up recipes on Evernote so I can prop it up in the kitchen to cook. Which means I can also have a mobile recipe book in my hands when I go to the store. I’m not lyin’, though…I’ve spent a lot of time playing Fruit Ninja, too. I am constitutionally incapable of being all business and my poor tablet is already starting to reflect that. Check emails? Sure. Also, slice up virtual fruit. Apps to pay bills? Awesome! Also, there’s Facebook. Track recipes and grocery lists? Handy. Aaaaaand it’s a Nook so I’ve been transferring books over willy-nilly.

Speaking of books…I’ve realized I have a very small collection of ebooks. Now, I love real, physical books and that can’t be beat, but I’ve realized that some of the stuff I read (*ahem* romance novels *cough cough*) might not be things I want just lying around on the shelves for the kiddo to pick up later on. So I’m trying to go digital. Bookcases cannot be password protected, after all.

Anyhoodles, since I’ve been granted free time, I think I’m going to finish dinner and enjoy an evening with my husband.

Abigail and I met a group of friends at the Dallas Arboretum today. Fortunately for us, we have a family membership so getting in was free(ish). One of the things I love about that place is that you can bring in your own food and drinks. Can you say picnic? Yeah. Surrounded by lovely, lovely flowers and trees and grass that you could sleep in if only it weren’t so damp!

I always enjoy the chance to get together with other moms and babies because really, there are times when no matter what, only talking to another mom will ensure you’re talking to someone who will get it. I imagined pretty well what being a full-time mom would be like (yay, me!) but it is still sometimes overwhelming, or absolutely hilarious, or breathtaking in ways that I never would have expected. Other moms get this. Not veteran moms that have twelve year olds, and not grandmas, but women whose children were born around the same time as yours. There’s a bond there. Other moms with older kids are great resources, but they are moms that have been  there and sometimes you just really need a mom who is there, right now, in the same stinky, poopy, drooly, guilt-ridden-and-yet-somehow-hilarious situation that you are in at the moment.

As an example, a friend of mine didn’t catch her daughter when she fell the other day and she felt terrible. She told me about it and I was like “Oh been there, done that…so many times. It’s okay.” I could tell her with complete honesty that things like that just happen. They just do. Babies are the most fearless, clueless, curious creatures…and believe me when I say that if your baby isn’t somehow trying to self-inflict brain damage then something is probably wrong. My kid likes to hang upside down, for example. Why? Who knows. Blood rush to the head? Different perspective? The joy of making mommy carry you around like a sack of potatoes and garner strange looks in public? Divine!

And after a point you will do anything to make your kid happy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a baby-slave, but if some harmless activity is going to make her happy then I’m all over it. Make farting noises with my tongue and chase her around the living room? Check. Hang her upside down? Check.  Sit her on my stomach while I do crunches? Ouch…but check. Baby smiles are the best and believe me, after changing poopy diapers, sleep deprivation, and fussy feedings I think any mom gets to the point where they need those smiles just to stay sane. So will I be a completely dopey crackpot in public? You bet your pants I will.

The arboretum, then – like so many other outings – was a way of Keeping Baby Happy. That’s like, mission #2 of my life right now. (Mission #1 is not squishing her like a bug.) The chance to sit around and talk with other moms and relax for a while was just a big, awesome bonus. I also managed to get a few pictures so, rambling post behind us, enjoy the photos.

My life has been filled with the exciting challenge of being a full-time mom and quite frankly, it’s a hell of a busy job. Blogging? Pffft. Not high on my list of priorities and as I once read you’re doing just fine as a mom if you make it to the end of the day without burning the house down and everyone is still alive. A+ for me, then.

I am compelled to blog tonight, though, because this is an outlet I have long neglected and today I was forcibly reminded that a little self-care goes a long way in helping one deal with life. Stress – whether it’s “good” or “bad” stress – is still stress no matter what the source and it’s something that has to be tackled. I’m one of those coke-bottle types that keeps a lid on it until everything is so agitated I explode. (Usually, into tears, like I did earlier today.)

Thankfully, my husband stepped up to the plate and gave me what I needed: a stress free afternoon and evening. He went out with the baby and I had the house to myself for a while. He let me take a three-hour nap. I went to the bookstore and browsed. I ate fast food for dinner.

I knew I needed a break, but I didn’t realize how badly I needed it until I observed how much better I felt when I got it.

As a mom it’s easy to put others first. As a perfectionist mom with ADD it’s like a requirement. You are reading the blog of a girl who skipped right past the “Freshman 15″ in college simply because she would get distracted and forget to eat. Let me say that again: Forgot. To. Eat.

Give me a tiny person to take care of and I’m all over that. There are obvious examples of how this system works: the baby is freshly cleaned with diaper ointment, clean diaper, clean clothes, nails clipped, hair (what there is of it) brushed and drinking a bottle; I am wearing whatever passed the smell test this morning, I can’t remember if I brushed my hair, I’m pretty certain I didn’t brush my teeth going by the taste in my mouth, we’re on our way out the door and I haven’t eaten a thing. We get back home, baby gets another bottle, goes down for a nap with a fresh diaper, I change shirts and then I realize I’ve just sat down on the couch without getting the drink and snack I wanted. I give up and just stay on the couch. Yeah, I’m lazy – but it stems from being exhausted, underfed, stressed, and solely focused on the well being of only one person. (Hint: NOT ME.)

And I wonder why I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and depressed lately.

So I would advise people to take this is a cautionary tale. I feel like a completely new, improved version of myself now that I have taken the time to pay attention to me. It’s simple things, like having alone-time and browsing through the bookstore, that make the biggest difference in the day-to-day grind. I feel like I can wake up in the morning and be a better mother, better wife, and kinder human being because I won’t be starting off running on a deficit. Easy-peasy. All I had to do was allow myself to take a break instead of trying to super-woman my way through everything for the sake of “being strong” or being a “good mom.”

It turns out the world did not explode because I had time to myself and let my husband take care of the baby and worries for a day.

It’s been ages, so let’s see if this still works.

So, we’re not exactly following it to the letter lately because we’ve been insanely busy & stressed, but the husband and I are on Atkins. We did awesome on induction and each lost quite a bit of weight – but more than that we lost inches. Lately, I’m trying to still make lower-carb decisions on our food, but it’s so much easier right now to pick up fast food than throw together a complete meal that’s been planned down to the last gram of carbs and fiber. One of the things that made me happy is that now that we’re past induction I’ve found some Atkins-friendly baking recipes! I’ve always like cooking, but baking has always been the most fun. The recipes almost exclusively cut out flour as I know it, but I think the substitutions make for some interesting experiments, which is what I loved about baking anyway! So far I’ve made a decent pumpkin cheesecake, I’m trying out a recipe now for pecan sandies, and I’ve found a brown sugar splenda blend that means I can try out a pumpkin pie recipe for Thanksgiving!
I’m hoping that with some smart planning I can get us back on track with Atkins once we’ve made it past Thanksgiving day, but it means I’ll have to sit down soon and plan out what I need from the store and what amount of work I have the time to do in the evenings and for lunches. Induction limited a lot so it was easier, in a way, to have to work with just a few things that were okay. Now we’re past induction and I need to do a little more research and planning to figure out what things we can eat, what things I can add back into our diet, and how to re-vamp a few recipes that I like so that they are low-carb enough to fit into our diet.
The key thing I have to remember is that it works as long as we stick to it. My ability to stick to routines has always been pretty poor, but I can see the difference in my figure & my weight and I’ve noticed a difference in my appetite that coincides with the fact that cutting out carbs (which mostly come from sugar!) are healthier and help my body work more efficiently. More than anything, living a healthy lifestyle is the important part. I have a daughter I want to keep up with. I have a husband that counts on me, and I want to be able to do and go and keep up with life. Of course, it doesn’t hurt if regulating my weight & exercising will help me with my self-image.
So…I’m planning to start experimenting in the kitchen & keep on baking!