Monday, September 29, 2014

Like, For Real


This. Every time! I say my daily prayers and noticed on days where I ask for more patience, I'm just given demons for children (and not a Winchester in sight) who are more concerned with who got to the car first, who got the last of the milk, who got to pick the last show than with their poor street urchin looking mother who spent the day with a mouthful of "stop it! What are you doing?! SHE IS A BABY YOU CANNOT HIT HER! Seriously?! Again with the socks?"

I realized, if I don't pray for patience, maybe it'll be better.........

It is! For about an hour. The difference after that hour though? I didn't pray for patience so I'm not recognizing the opportunities to exercise my agency and CHOOSE to be patient. It is so much worse. 

Instead of exasperation, I get full on angry and shout at my kids. Not just yell or use the mom voice. I shout at them to just stop for five frickin minutes so I finish making their dinner that they will probably refuse to eat anyway. 

Those are the days that I yearn for bed time. When each kid is hastily put into their bed with a quick kiss, a half hug, and a not quite sincere as it should be I love you. When I flop on the couch and shake my fist inwardly for not getting a Dr. Pepper earlier at Frys. 

The thing is, how can we expect to be patient if we are never presented with the opportunity to be patient? That's like trying to learn calculus without ever taking a math class. I'm fully confident that my comparison of patience to calculus is an accurate depiction of how difficult patience is for me. Especially because I couldn't even pass geometry. 

Heavenly Father isn't some wizard that can wave a magic wand and grant us our every desire and wish. This isn't Hogwarts, yo. He's our FATHER. He wants us to learn and the only way to learn is to be presented with opportunities to learn. So He does. He gives our kids a little extra energy and a lot more sass and turns them loose on us. But He doesn't abandon us. He's still there. Just a prayer away. Like being in class, raise your hand...ask for help. The teacher knows the answers and knows how to help guide you to figure it out on your own. Heavenly Father is there to guide us too. 

So this morning when I prayed for strength and energy and safety...I swallowed hard and asked for patience and for guidance to know how to best help each of my kids. It's nap time and the house is quiet except for the sizzle of my dinosaur chicken nuggets in the oven (don't you dare judge me). I've done surprisingly well this morning as I've stopped with each tantrum and thought "I prayed for this. I need to figure it out. Help me to figure this out..."

If all else fails, I have Dr. Pepper in the fridge. 

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Growing Like A Weed



We all make first impression judgements of those around us. No matter how hard we try not to do this, it just happens. 

Usually my first impression judgements are followed by a trip in their shoes to try and see the softer side of Sears and why my judgement might be wrong. 

Back before husband and I met, I didn't mess around with dating. I didn't dwell on breakups so when one relationship was over, I was ready to get back out there right away. This had the effect that I appeared to just jump from guy to guy and wasn't very good girlfriend material. This was something a friend of husband told him the day we met. 

In your face.

I also had people tell me things like:

"When I first met you I thought you were insane and probably should be on ADD medication."

"The first time we hung out, I could not believe how ridiculous you were!"

"I always had to warn people that you would probably hug them upon meeting them for the first time."

I was a wildflower. Carefree, growing where I wanted, bending with the breezes and bouncing right back to laugh in the face of the storm. Then I had kids. 

Then...I had kids. 

*sigh*

I started to worry and fret and became a casualty of the Mom. A sickness that affects the mind in a slow deterioration of self and self worth. It strips away who you are and replaces it with who you think you should be. You're a mom. You shouldn't be doing this or that or buying those. A friend posted on her blog awhile ago about a pair of shoes she saw at a store. They were gold and sparkly and everything a mom shouldn't wear. The Mom disease kicked in and told her how impractical gold sparkly shoes are and that as a mom, those shoes were wholly absurd. 

You know what she did?

She flipped Mom disease the bird and bought the shoes. 

Moms, buy the shoes. Buy the shoes and wear them and rock those suckers until your blisters have blisters. 

If your jam is on the radio, let's turn it up and sing the Mom disease into oblivion. 

Dance it into the ground. 

I'm going to do a challenge with this post. I invite you to do the same!

Make a list of all the things you loved to do before you had kids. Doesn't have to be big things. In fact, the more everyday the better. Each day, try to do one of those things. If you can incorporate your kids, do it. 

Bring your old self back and make her be the mom. There isn't a cookie cutter Mom out there. Having kids doesn't suddenly change you into a different person. It rearranges priorities, sure, but I'm still me. Kate can be a mom just like Kathy. In fact, I'm sure she'll be an even better mom than Kathy because she knows how to have fun and how to enjoy each moment. 

I love slurpees and dance parties and Panic! At The Disco and can be wildly inappropriate. I'm a wildflower. I don't want people to wonder about that...I want them to know it as soon as they meet me. 

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A Dweam Wiffin A Dweam


Second year of medical school sucks. And it's only been, like, a month. Sigh, I'm feeling romantic today. 

So I'll ignore the fact that my kids are STILL blowing bubbles in their cups after I told them not to and the baby is probably trying to eat paper again and bring you this gem of a quote. 

I saw a thing on Facebook that I have no idea what it's about, but one of the things the girl said was, "greet each other like you're still dating. Like you've been dying to see each other all day. How would you say hello? A hurried hi and a quick kiss?"

Nope. When we were dating, husband and I were probaby the gag me couple. I have no idea if we really were or not because I couldn't take my eyes away from him long enough to see if others were vomiting in our general direction. 

I've been trying to be more romantic lately, but when there are party decorations to make, tests to study for, kids to feed and put to bed, and episodes of Supernatural to watch, it gets a little tough. 

So in being more romantic (or rather trying to be), I have noticed the little things that have changed. I see pictures from our wedding or dating days and husband looks like a little boy! This was only seven years ago! Not to say he's a grizzly old codger now...more like a refined gentleman of wisdom. A George Clooney who only gets better with age. I was super creepy last night when I came to bed. He was already sleeping and I got ready for bed and then snuggled next to him and just stared. I saw his grey hairs and his little wrinkles. I saw how exhausted he was from working so hard to provide us with a better future. I saw how hard he tries to balance school and family. I saw his faith, his kindness. I saw his absurdity and laugh. I saw every single reason why I chose to spend forever with him. And at that moment, he reached over to hold my hand. 

He reads this, so I apologize for being creepy, but you are just SO handsome! 

Anyway, I was looking at him and drinking in his sleepy face and fell just a little more in love. 

I didn't think it would be possible, but there I was. A little more in love, a little more thankful, and a lot more happy. 


Saturday, September 20, 2014

What was I saying again?


You know what's awesome about blogs? Anyone can have one. 

Anyone. 

What's awesome about everyone being able to have a blog or a Tumblr or a Facebook is that everyone has a chance to share themselves. Sometimes people share things that you REALLY wish they hadn't. Sometimes people share things that are exactly what you needed to read, see, hear, whatever. The internet is so powerful that way!

This is fantastic, and also daunting. Back in the day all you had to worry about was keeping up with the Jones. 

Now you have to keep up with the Jones, the Smiths, the Johnsons, the Jingleheimerschmidts. 

That one is especially hard because whenever they go out, people shout at them in joy. People usually give me side eyes because I'm wearing two different earrings and my hair is only half done. 

What makes it hard is you see everyone else and everything GOOD that they do. Nobody blogs about the week they spent in the same pair of leggings (✔️) or the disastrous peanut butter chocolate birthday cake they made for their husband (✔️). You see the expertly coiffed hair and flawless cat eye makeup and Martha Stewart worthy dinner party. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I am not a blogger of perfection. Rarely do my Pinterest adventures end in confetti and a shiny trophy of success. It's more like a lot of cussing and "DONT TALK TO ME IM TRYING TO DO A THING!" 

I'm not even gonna go back and put apostrophes in that last sentence. 

*grammar rebel*


But while I don't have blog perfection, it's still perfect for me. Because it is me. All me. 

Well me and a screen shot of a Pinterest quote. 

As modern internet surfers, we're bombarded with everyone else's words and thoughts and ideas. It's so easy to get lost in someone's world and then look at our own cluttered counter tops and toy strewn living rooms and sigh the sigh of longing. 

"Maybe if I were a bit more organized. Then clean up would go faster and I would have more time to make something organic and healthy for dinner. Then I would feel better about myself and would be motivated to work out and do my hair and makeup and actually get dressed..." 

So you pin the things to help you be more organized. And the dinner recipes. And the hair and makeup tutorials. And the polyvore outfits. 

And then they sit there. For years. On a board that should be called "ain't nobody got time for that". 

I'm not organized. I like dinosaur chicken nuggets and Taco Bell. I cut all my hair off because I could NEVER get it to curl right and was tired of feeling like a hair failure. 

Yes you can add that to my list of things I gave up on. I gave up on hair. 

I'm so disorganized I had to scroll back up and remember what I was supposed to be writing about. This post has almost nothing to do with that quote. 

So to tie it all back to that, this is my blog. My voice. May it inspire you to find your own, but make sure it's YOURS. You don't want my voice or my story. It's disorganized and scattered and doesn't make much sense. You can't have my dance moves. They're way too sick for y'all anyway. 


Thursday, September 18, 2014

It Is Enough

http://youtu.be/3n-DOKBffuU

The Mormon Messages channel on YouTube put this video out. I was scrolling along on Facebook and saw it. Usually I ignore them, but for some reason I clicked this one. 

From the first few shots I wanted to cry. This was my life. A not so dramatic reenactment of my every day. I know the feeling of crossing one thing off my list and adding two more. I know the feeling of being someone's last resort and not having the heart to say no. You can FEEL the desperation pouring into your soul as they ask for a favor. Having been the one in dire need, I know how beautiful that "sure I can do it" sounds. 

A lot of the comments on the Facebook page are from woman saying things like "if this is how good Mormon women are supposed to act, then I'm nowhere near a good Mormon woman!" Or "so the message of this video is that we need to completely ignore our own needs and serve to the point of a complete breakdown?!"

Oh dear sisters. No. If that's how this video is being interpreted, then I'm sorry you did so. To me this video wasn't a reprimand that I'm not doing enough. That I'm not sacrificing enough. That I could always do more and my own desires be damned. 

To me this video was so utterly relatable I cried through the whole thing. I saw every day of the last five years of my life in 8 minutes. It was hopeless. It was depressing. It was stressful. Then, the ending. Very often I'm ushering kids to bed only to hear Allie say "but what about prayers?" I'll admit there are times when I'm so 100% done that I literally can't even. Not for all the yoga pants in Starbucks. The times I do kneel down with the kids and hear their prayers, I'm blown away by the things they say. I remember one time Allie was saying our prayer before bed and she said "please bless mama to have a good day and get lots of sleep so she can be happy tomorrow." I didn't get much sleep that night, but her prayer stayed in my mind the next day and I tried so hard to be happy despite my lack of rest. 

There's an LDS hymn called Have I Done Any Good? 

Any good. Not all the good.

So moms, dads, friends...watch this video. Don't feel like you should be like the woman portrayed. Instead, feel like the things you do are enough.  

 


Tuesday, September 16, 2014

On Finding Friends



 We moved a lot growing up and I went to three different schools just for third grade.  Some people in that situation find themselves very shy and unwilling to make friends because, odds are, you'll move again and have to leave another friend behind. For me it had the opposite effect. 

My step mom called me a social butterfly and at 13 I honestly had no clue what she meant other than butterflies are pretty and people like butterflies. All I know is that I wasted zero time finding a new best friend wherever we went and cementing that relationship into my heart. Instead of worrying over losing that friendship, I decided to enjoy it while I could before the next city brought me another BFF to adventure with. I would try to stay in contact, but in a land before cell phones and Facebook and Instagram, it became impossible. But that's ok because I have the memories.

I will add that since the invention of these things, I've been able to not only maintain, but expand the friendships I thought I would have to leave behind. 

Since becoming a mom though, it's harder and harder to find these friends. Mostly because the candidates I've come across are also moms and mom friendships rarely have time to blossom into full BFF status. Being a social butterfly (still don't fully understand that one but whatevs), I get really moody and melancholy and morose without a BFF. I feel like I have nobody to really connect with on a girl level and I need that. I'm also very physical and some people find that off putting. I'm a hugger, a hand holder, a butt slapper, and I may or may not love to just cuddle with my BFF.

Being LDS and a stay at home mom, my primary adult interaction is at church. Moving into a new ward is much more daunting than a new school. Especially family wards. Some of these people have been here for YEEEAAAARS. They've made lifelong friendships and thus the borderline inappropriate best friend positions have all been filled.


 Sometimes though, I find one. 

I find a curly ginger girl who has the best michigan accent and loves to dance in the back of trucks and could eat gallons of Chubby Hubby ice cream. Who can make me laugh, cry, and scream all during one phone call. Who has always had a kind word on a hard day. A girl who is so incredible and has endured so much, that I still cry for her. 

I find my person in my visiting teaching companion and we share Dr. Pepper and Greys Anatomy and horribly fail at late night spin classes. Who knew exactly how to help without ever being asked and without questioning what was in it for her. A girl who can make you feel like the funniest person on earth with a laugh that is so infectious, we should probably call the cdc on her. 

 I find them and they find me and it just fits. 

And while it's been over two years since I've had that kind of friend next to me, I know that the only way to find them is to be open. To be free. To be happy. 

Because who wants to be best friends with a surly grump?

Monday, September 15, 2014

Freeing My Funny

If there is anything in this world that can make me laugh, it's whale humor. 

And Tuna the dog, but that's for another post. 


I have this pinned with the caption "I want this on a shirt". And I really do. It's not anything superbly clever or even puntastic. But it makes me smile thinking about a whale* with the confidence to say she (he?) is a diva. 

Rock it, orca. 

*side note: orcas aren't even whales. They're dolphins. Say whaaaaat?

Sunday, September 14, 2014

But what if I fall?


Anyone can attest to my lack of commitment to things. I'm on a constant quest to find my talent and it's not a very fair one. 

I pick up hobbies and drop them quickly after realizing I'm not an instant virtuoso. The list is pretty intense:

Viola
Choir
Dance (I loved it but then kids happened)
Making bows
Making dolls
P90X (loved it but an hour a day to listen to Tony Horton "motivate" me?)

This blog. 

I see these bloggers with followers galore and hundreds of comments about how the reader is utterly INSPIRED! Forget Negative Nancy. I've got Confidence Killer Kathy in my brain. 

"You can't write a blog. Everyone and their dog has a blog these days. There is literally a show called Dog With A Blog. What makes you think that YOU have anything to say that could possibly affect anyone in any way? Just let it gather internet dust and forget you even tried."

Now, I've always been very fickle with my interests, but it's become more of a fear of failure and less of a "this is boring". 

To be more Kate, I'm posting again. And it'll probably only have a couple likes and comments on Facebook. From my mom. But you know what? At least I tried. How many people can say that? How many people want to try but they're afraid to fail?

But oh my dear, what if you succeed?


P.S. I'm still trying to find my one true talent that instantly clicks and I'm a master in one afternoon. So far the only thing I've succeeded at in this endeavor is my ability to put off housework to the point that literally every fork, spoon, and knife is dirty. 

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Free My Happy

Today I took a Facebook quiz. 

You know the kind that are all,"we can guess your spirit animal in ten questions!" 

This one was about your subconscious obsession. I figured mine would be loading the dishwasher the right way, or tuxedo chocolate mousse cake from costco. Instead it was something wholly unexpected. 


I'm a friendly person and I can strike up a conversation with anyone, a trait my five year old daughter has, thankfully, inherited. I wouldn't call myself in a "constant state of happiness" though. I definitely don't always emit positive vibes either. I sent this screen shot to my husband with a note saying "I don't think this quiz knows me at all hahaha". 

I waited for his agreeing remark because he's my husband and knows me well enough to see I had been a victim of the generalizing Facebook quiz. Again, a response wholly unexpected. 


"It's there if you'd quit squelching it."

I stopped my snarky reply and thought,"do I? Do I squelch my happy?" I've been struggling with finding my new self since having kids and becoming a mom. I think back on my single days in my own apartment with fondness and pangs of jealousy for my carefree youth. I found myself bitter at the title of Stay At Home Mom like it labeled some sort of antisocial snack maker.

 I've written countless journal entries asking where did Kate go? That bubbly, snarky, dancing, singing, skinny dipping at 2 am girl? I figured she was long gone and lost on some whirlwind adventure that I wasn't invited to share. My own adventure had begun and it was too mundane for her to stick around. Instead my travel partner became Kathy (a nickname my husband calls me when he really wants to just piss me off). Kathy is far too serious and gruff and prefers loafing about and complaining. 

My husband was right. I squelched my happy. I shooed Kate away because motherhood is serious business and I needed a serious person to help me raise stalwart members of society who would shape the world within their tiny hands. 

So this is my letter to Kate. Please come back. I need more dance parties and less pity parties. 

This is kind of my space to post about the happy in my days. Whether it's tuxedo chocolate mousse cake from Costco (seriously. Go buy one right now.) or just something silly my kids said/did. Possibly an inspirational quote I found on Pinterest. No matter what it is, if it's something that helps me stop squelching, and free my happy, I'm down like a clown Charlie Brown.