The little things

Yesterday I was driving home from class with an almost euphoric high.  I had finished my final presentation in my Feminist Media Studies class and felt good about the overall experience.  I had not only survived the class (much to my initial trepidation), but I had learned quite a bit about discovering my own voice.  It’s amazing how, when faced with a room full of opposition, I could discover such strength in my own beliefs.

I was listening to the radio and just relishing the fact that I was now facing a two-week break before Fall semester when my phone rang.  It was my husband.

He was calling just to tell me how proud he is of me returning to school and working toward my PhD.  He almost sang out praises of my intelligence, my grace, and my ability to balance it all.

After I was done rolling my eyes and secretly thinking ‘Man, do I have him fooled,’ I suddenly felt humbled.

Because the truth of the matter is that I couldn’t do what I’m doing without my amazingly supportive family.

He always takes on extra housework to give me time to study.  He encourages me to keep going and never fails to remind me that, even in my school craziness, I am loved.  He’s eager to spend extra time with the children so I can have a quiet corner to write and he never complains about any of it.

But, it doesn’t stop with him.

My in-laws have never hesitated to watch the children while I have class or meetings.  They eagerly jump at the chance for extra time with them.  As much as they may think that they are just saving me the burden of paying a babysitter, they are also saving me worry and stress that comes when my children are not with me.  When they are with my in-laws I know they are safe, loved, and having the carefree fun that is necessary in childhood.

My mother and my grandfather, though 800 miles away, are constant sources of encouragement.  They always ask about school and offer any help that they can – even if its just an ear to listen to my madness.  They always take a moment to acknowledge what I’m doing and remind me of its long term value.

In many ways this PhD is going to belong to my family.  They have done just as much to earn it as I have.  And, I know without a doubt that I couldn’t follow my crazy dreams without them.

For this Focus on it Friday, for whom or what are you thankful this week? Share in the comments section and help us to remind one another that we are blessed!

Burning Bridges

I think I may have unintentionally destroyed a friendship.

This past school year I was a co-leader of a very small scouting troop through my daughter’s school.  We were operating with very few girls and no money.  After discussing the situation with my husband we’ve decided to transfer our daughter to another troop that operates within the county and has many of her school friends as members.  I think the overall experience is going to be better for our daughter and give her many more opportunities.

Today I had to tell my co-leader I was moving troops.

And, she’s very upset.

She thinks I’ve bailed on her and all the hard work she’s put into building our troop.  While I understand her reasoning I’m really trying to give my daughter the most well-rounded scouting experience possible.  I emailed her and expressed how much I don’t want this to destroy our friendship.  Our daughters play together and we often bump into one another through school functions and what not.

I feel terrible.  I’m trying to give her time to cool down before I call her to talk, but I’m really afraid I unintentionally destroyed our friendship.  The interesting thing is that she could very easily transfer with me, still be a leader, and have many, many resources at her fingertips.  I want us to just combine troops so that we can all still work together, but have a more optimal experience.

I’m a Libra.  I don’t like the waters to be muddied.  I’m much more of a Can’t we all just get along type of girl.

And, I just want to do what’s best for my daughter.

I hate that I may lose a friendship in the process.

Time for a little whine

I’m sick.

Cry a river, right!?

I have finals this week, my kids have open house this week and start school a week from today, and Blogher is next week!  This is not the time to be sick.

At first I thought my ickiness was just leftover from our party fun Saturday night.  We were out late and a few glasses of wine were consumed.  But by Sunday afternoon I knew I was about to go full battle with the creepy crud.

Thank God I worked my ass off Sunday morning to finish my final paper and presentation.  That was God’s way of saying ‘I’ve got something else in store for you!”

Sadly, that something was not a pedicure and an afternoon of shopping.

Or a golden retriever.

So, here I sit all whiny and miserable.  My beautiful niece came and spent the morning with us and I used any bit of wellness I had left wrangling four children and their cupcake making adventure.  Once she left I crashed for a 3 hour nap.

I woke up feeling fuzzy.

Now I’m impatiently waiting for a pot of ham and bean soup to finish cooking, my husband to get home, and the start of my evening plans that include a warm bath and a couple Unisom.

Thanks for the moment of sympathy.

Don’t forget about me in my time of suffering.

Goodbye forever.

Who needs to get a vasectomy when you can just stand in the Georgia heat and sweat your balls off in about an hour

I’m just sayin

I think the heat is making me delirious.  And I’ve been inside all day.

I contemplated shaving the cat just to cool things off a bit when he comes and lays with me.

I’m contemplating shaving my head for many of the same reasons.

My kids are walking around the house in their underwear because even with the air conditioning running nonstop it’s too hot.

My electric bill was $395 dollars this month.

For that amount our house should be like a freaking igloo.

I think I need to stick my head in a freezer.

We were all too hot to cook tonight and too hot to really be hungry so I served cereal for dinner.  I put a few marshmallows on it just to ease my own guilt.

I think I’m having a hot flash…

Yea, I’m classy.

goodbye forever.

Drift Away

The backpacks so meticulously chosen by little hands are hanging in the hallway.  Inside them lay new and pristine supplies carefully labeled with the name of their owner.  The lunch boxes sit on top the fridge waiting to be filled with all the favorite foods and snacks.  And, the reusable bottles we hope will help us live a little greener are ready to be filled.

In just over a week it’ll be time to return to school.

My oldest will enter the world of First Grade and my son will officially be in Kindergarten.

It’s hard to believe that by the second day of August we’ll be knee deep in the paperwork, projects, homework, and reading that comes with every school year.  I keep wanting to shout Where did the Summer go!?  The days and weeks of the season just slipped by and now I’m faced with a list of things I never quite accomplished.

The horrible and oppressive heat has kept us indoors more than we anticipated this Summer.  I have all sorts of plans for afternoons in the backyard, picnics in the sun, and many bike rides in an effort to work off those training wheels.  But, most afternoons we’ve been hunkered down inside where the air conditioning works overtime to keep us all from overheating.

I had hoped to do more swimming this Summer – which would have required us to mooch pool time from someone.  Hey, the heat is exhausting – you’d be mooching, too!

I wanted to go to the park and start my running routine.  There were sidewalks that begged to be filled with pictures made of chalk.  My vegetable garden was supposed to be our Summer project.  But, instead of accomplishing all these things we’ve been inside playing board games, coloring pictures, playing dress-up, and building dinosaur museums.

Sure, we’ve had a wonderful time – when we weren’t driving each other crazy.  But, our Summer is drifting away quickly…

Soon, I’ll be welcoming exhausted children home in the afternoon.  The heat of the school, the playground, and the bus will wear thin their normally cheerful attitudes.  We’ll have enough time for homework before it’ll be time for dinner, baths, and beds.  We’ll do this routine over and over again for at least the next 15 years…

The Summers will soon be all about camps, friends, and their own agendas.  They won’t want to cuddle down with me on a rainy day, pretend it’s cold outside, and watch The Wizard of Oz with popcorn and blankets.  They’ll be drifting away, too…

In the mean time I have every intention of embracing all the joys and blessings of Fall.  I’ll start of list of activities now so that, when the leaves and the weather begin to turn, I’ll be ready to drift with my children one more good time.

I don’t buy it!

What would you do if your spouse came home one day and announced I don’t love you?

Would you separate?  Would you work your hardest to save what is left of the relationship?  Would you just sit in shock in an attempt to will the statement into not existing?

I sometimes wonder if something like this will ever happen to me.  I don’t mean that I think about this in a paranoid sort of way – more in the sense of One day he’s gonna wake up and realize I’m just crazy!


Sometimes I’m so shocked that our relationship is as successful as it is that I feel like someday the other shoe will drop.

I grew up around divorce.  I saw first hand the hardships of families and marriages falling apart.  I saw the realities of trying to rebuild into something new and blended.  It wasn’t anything close to pretty – and it was about as far as one gets from a happy ending.  I think that’s why part of me wonders if divorce is just inevitable – even for people that love each other.

What would I do if my husband came home and announced he didn’t love me?  Honestly, I’d fight like hell.  I’d fight with all my strength.  I’d find any way possible to remind him of exactly how equally yolked we are.  I’d turn to God, I’d seek help, and I’d make sure we had exhausted every possible angle before any decision was made to walk away.  I’d continue to love him unconditionally.

What I wouldn’t do is sit back and take it.

This is Not The Story You Think It Is by Laura Munson explores this exact situation.  Faced with her husband’s declaration that he no longer loves her, Munson announces that she just doesn’t buy into the fact that he feels this way.  She deals with the situation by passively accepting what she calls her husband’s ‘crisis.’  Throughout the hardships Munson seems unable to take any responsibility for the fact that her marriage and her family are falling apart.  She prefers to continue a materialistic existence and, even with the loss of their Montana ranch a possibility, refuses to get a job.  As an unpublished writer for almost two decades, Munson honestly believes that she is entitled to an extravagant existence – and that being published would somehow be the magic wand needed.

While I appreciate the premise behind this book I felt as if something was missing.  Emotion maybe?  A sense of responsibility?  A complete, uninterrupted thought?  I’m not even sure I could say with confidence that she stood up for her marriage – her own needs maybe, but not her marriage.

Though there is a fairly positive ending to this memoir, I never actually felt a connection to the author or her plight.  I felt like she kept me at a distance – just like the obese people eating junk food at the water park she refused to visit with her children.  I was somehow below her – not a friend or an appreciated reader.

But, who cares! She’s finally published now and that’s all that matters.

Sorry, I don’t buy it.

That is why I’m glad I didn’t actually pay for my copy of the book.  As part of the From Left to Write Book Club, formally Silicon Valley Moms Book Club, I received a copy of this book as a participatory member of the program.  

Spinbrush: A review

Like most parents I have struggled to help my kids learn to brush their teeth thoroughly.  Most often they brush for about 30 seconds and I come behind them and actually brush their teeth well.

We’ve tried all different ways of making the whole process easier – fun toothpaste, timers, toothbrushes of their choice.  But, it’s still a challenge.

Until recently…

I was offered a chance to review the Kids Spin Brush and jumped at the chance.  Anything to help the kids brush better, right!?

I had originally thought about giving the toothbrush to my 6 year old, but ultimately decided to allow my 2 year old the chance to use it.  I figure I still have a pretty good shot with helping her establish good oral hygiene habits.  

The toothbrush is battery powered and comes with over 140 stickers so that each can be decorated to a child’s interests and preferences.  My daughter loved this!  While I helped apply the water-safe stickers to spell out her name, she has a blast putting on a multitude of different designs.  Flowers, cats, rainbows – you name it and she slapped it on there!

When it came time to actually brush her teeth I was amazed at the sudden need to be independent.  She loves brushing her teeth and seems to do quite a bit better than she did before – especially for being only two years old!

Two weeks later she still loves the toothbrush!  We’ve had a couple stickers fall off, but I think it was caused by our lack of applying them well.  I’m now hoping to buy my older two children each one these toothbrushes – maybe we’ll actually start the school year with better oral hygiene.  Plus, with the ability to put their names on the brush there is no chance they’ll get mixed up!

The Spin Brush My way retails for under $7 with a coupon available on the website.  In full disclosure I was given a free Spin Brush as part of this review.  

Apparently foreigners frequent patios!

I’ve only been in California for two days, but I’ve had some of my most memorable experiences sitting on the patio outside this swanky hotel.

The first afternoon I was here I was approached by an older Russian man who accused me of trying to photograph and record whatever business meeting he was having outside.

Yes, me with my giant camera and its inconspicuous lime green strap.

There’s nothing like being accused by a thick Russian accent to make a blogger take action on the Internet. Hey Crazy Russian Guy, if you’re that concerned about having your business meeting recorded by a mother then you are a) way too old school and paranoid or b) doing something you probably shouldn’t in the first place, and frankly, may very well deserve a time out.

Or the Feds to investigate.

Asshole.

The next day I was approached by two lovely gentlemen from England.  Now, I’m not very worldly, but trying to explain mommy blogging to two single men pretending to be gay is rather entertaining  They were here on business and were fascinated by the fact that the hotel had been taken over by a bunch of mothers.

I told them about my husband, blog, and children.

They told me about black swim trunks that apparently vacuum seal all their manly bits in place when submerged in water.

They had a theory that these ‘mom conferences’ are just an excuse we give our husbands to frolic freely for a few days.

I found this humorous.

But, us mommy bloggers are not the types to kiss and tell…

Unless you’re a Crazy Russian Man.

Then we just take our story to the Internet and hope that you get caught doing whatever it is that had you freaked enough to harass a mom.

Asshole.

Away, Away

Tomorrow morning I’m leaving for California!

I am heading to the Palo Alto area for a few busy, but fun filled days of learning, friendship, and probably a little trouble!  There will be cocktails, dinners, and fancy hotel rooms that my husband assures me are NOT part of a typical business trip.

He should know.  He’s traveled a lot.

There is something called Korean Karaoke happening one night.  And, with enough margaritas I’ll be checking that off my bucket list by the end of the weekend.

There is a Crafts and Pajama party one night in the room of one of the girls.  I’m not much for crafty stuff so I’ll probably be the weird tattoo mom hanging out at the lobby bar until it doesn’t seem too pathetically early to retire to my room, climb in the big bed, and munch on a frozen snickers.

I was even told that there would be a driver meeting me at baggage claim tomorrow holding a sign with my name on it.  Fancy!

Well, probably not for California.  But, for this Georgia girl it’s pretty freaking cool!!

So, I’m off to finish packing and preparing the house and kids for a few days of Mama’s absence.

Hey, California!  I’d prefer you resist seducing me with your pretty scenery, wine, and whatever else it is you have out there.  I can’t be tempted too much – eventually I’ll have to come home!

Self doubt

Every once in a while I feel like a fraud – especially when it comes to being back in school.

I absolutely love it – don’t get me wrong.  But, every so often I’m hit with this overwhelming sense that I can’t do this.  I finished the first year of my PhD pretty strong.  I made some amazing friends and discovered a renewed love of learning.  But, I’m getting closer to the really hard stuff.

And, I’m scared.

Can I really get a PhD while trying to be wholly available for my children?  Do I really even know what the hell I’m doing as I try to labor through Comps and a dissertation?  Is it possible to balance all the balls in the air and still come out on the other side saying it was all worth it?

I’m taking a course this Summer that has really made me doubt myself – not my beliefs, but my ability to be an intellectual.

An academic.

I hear folks discuss things in class and it sounds like their spewing intellectual nonsense from some hoity-toity academic journal.  Most of the time I’m sitting there thinking ‘What!?’ or ‘I don’t get it!’  I end up feeling displaced, shy, and frankly, pretty damn stupid.

I think part of this comes from the fact that this Summer I’m without my cohort – my buds – my super cool leisure party people.  We’ll all be reunited this Fall, but without having that sense of community and support I feel kind of lost.

And it sucks.

My dear friend once described getting a PhD like going through child labor.  Just when you think you can’t do it you’ll push through and it will all be over.

I’m hoping that ends up being the case.  But, right now I’m not sure I’m smart enough for all this academic stuff.  Right now I’m missing the time when I could stay in my yoga pants, nap during quiet time, and cook a homemade meal every night.

Right now I miss my kids when I’m away from them.

I miss the time when Sundays were filled with family togetherness and not an attempt to find a quiet corner to create an annotated bibliography.

Right now I’m just doubting…

All of it.