It’s hard to imagine that these gorgeous girls could ever go through an awkward period. But I sincerely hope they do.
Believe it or not, this is actually a prayer I’ve offered for my daughters. Strange? Maybe. Genius? Definitely.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish for them to be permanently awkward (although I would love them no less). Rather, one of my greatest hopes for them is to suffer through a few awkward years, and survive. The key word there is survive. I don’t want them to be scarred, or cope with their awkwardness through immoral, illegal, or otherwise dangerous behavior.
Let’s face it, life is easier for pretty people. Right or wrong, those with symmetrical faces, straight teeth and lustrous hair seem to sail through life a bit more easily. Studies have even proven that …
I love spending all day with this gap-toothed smile. 🙂
Yesterday, I shared what was on my heart about the underbelly of being an at-home mom (The Downside of the Domestic Life). After some concerned questions from friends and community members who thought I was really struggling with my new role, I thought I’d share what I love about this gig (it far outweighs the bad, trust me).
To be honest, one reason I haven’t proclaimed my positive experiences from the mountain
tops (except this one day) is because I don’t want to rub it in the faces of my fellow moms (or dads) who don’t have the opportunity to do this, or who wish they’d done it when they had the chance. I’ve always been one to self deprecate,
While staying at home isn’t always "baking cookies and tickle sessions," it does happen from time to time.
Let’s face it. We all need a common enemy to “kvetch” about. Right or wrong, we bond over shared gripe sessions. (This is especially true for women.) When you’re doing the 8-5 thing, oftentimes the object of your grumblings is someone in the workplace, whether it be your boss, coworker or client.
No matter how wonderful (or not wonderful) they are in general, there’s always something that will get on your nerves, and when you come home, your significant other gets to hold back your hair while you verbally vomit (again). Well, what happens when you remove all of these situations from your life at once? Suddenly, you’re left with facing the enemy at home.
Were your kids this naughty …
LOVE this image! (from mademama.com)
In light of the recent Ann Romney/Hilary Rosen debate, I felt called to give my take on the reignited “mommy war” controversy. Because I recently switched from one “side” to the other (even though I think we should both be on the same side), I have strong feelings about a woman’s role at home or in the workplace. I have a message for moms (and dads, and other concerned citizens).
To the Workplace Moms:
You are awesome. You bust your butt every day to help provide a safe, loving environment for your children and family. From budgeting to bedtimes, you wear many hats throughout the day. You should feel proud of your accomplishments and the wonderful example you’re setting for your daughters (and sons). If this was the choice you …
One. Hour. Straight. 60 minutes of all-hell’s-broke-loose, demon-like, possessed screaming. That’s how long it took my two-year-old to finally give in to the fact that she wasn’t going to the park with no pants on. She writhed in my arms in her pink leotard, veins bulging, blonde ringlets soaked with sweat, and neck bloodied from where she’d scratched herself. This was the mother of all meltdowns.
And while I may look back someday and laugh, right now my heart is broken. My spirit is broken. No amount of soothing, diversions or reasoning could calm her down. She threw toys and clothes from her bedroom, and ran back down the stairs each time after I put her in her room for timeout. I stuck to the Super Nanny routine, and persistently, calmly put her back time and time again. Meanwhile, my 11-month-old …
Today was a magical day. The kind of day you savor long after it’s over, like licking greasy barbecue sauce off your fingers after nibbling a juicy rib down to the bone.
I was up at five, started a pot of coffee and scrambled up a batch of our very own free-range chicken eggs. I delighted in the sounds of Gungor on Spotify, and sat at the kitchen table with my husband, sipping coffee and enjoying adult conversation.
I had about another half hour to myself after he left for work, and both Anna and Erica were in fabulous moods when they woke up. Turns out the beginning of my post from yesterday wasn’t just a pipe dream after all.
We spent several hours in the morning working in our garden at my parent’s. The weather …