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What is this?
Quite a few of my favorite bloggers decided to get even more thought provoking today. There is only so much thinking this woman with mommy brain can handle these days ya know! ;)
But if you have the time, you ought to take a look at these posts. Maybe even comment, if you have anything smart to say, unlike myself. I can hardly walk while chewing gum these days I’m so scatter brained.
I don’t need to justify my choices…
What the “Typical” Working Mother Looks Like
It has begun…
…the endless stream of toy commercials on all stations at all times of day, beckoning little children with bright colors and loud music to watch closely and memorize each detail of why that particular toy is so great.
Though they aren’t technically Christmas commercials, the increase in frequency is due to Christmas being just a few months away, and the hounding has now begun.
Count Dooku seems to know that more toy commercials=Christmas soon. So not only has he begun to try to sell me on certain toys, he is now asking how many days away Christmas is.
Come on child, let’s get past Halloween and Thanksgiving first!!
That’s not to say he hasn’t asked every day this week, “Is Halloween tonight?”, but he’s thrown Christmas in there a couple times too. After all, free candy is great but free toys? Even better!
Darn these marketers, playing with the poor kids mind. It’s been but two weeks since we first saw Halloween decor at Trader Joes, but for a child that feels like months, and it’s torturous. Not just for the kid who eagerly awaits the holiday but for the parent who has to say, “Not yet” or “Maybe for Christmas” or “It’s 99 days away” or “DON’T ASK ME AGAIN!!” a hundred times a day!
Curse you evil toy marketers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Would you?
I recently read an interesting magazine article about some military wives who have used their husbands frozen sperm to conceive a child after their husband had been killed in the line of duty. Would you consider doing this if your husband had a job with a high mortality rate, had to receive a certain cancer treatment, had a terminal illness, or other?
I think (if I was in that situation) that if we hadn’t already had any children, I might consider it, because I would want a piece of him with me still. But then there is the question of later explaining to the child and/or nosy people about the conception and possible unforseen emotional complications for the child.
I do think it’s amazing that freezing sperm is even a possibility. Technology these days is truly astounding.
So, would you do it?
Practice makes better
If you had asked me what my motto for life was around 11 years ago I would have said, “Life sucks and then you die.”
I really thought that and said it often. Looking back, I now know it was mainly due to OCD which in turn caused severe depression and anxiety. I was the epitomy of pessimism and self loathing, hiding behind too long bangs and oversized jeans and polo shirts. Then a friend came along and gave me hope. Hope that maybe life didn’t suck, that maybe I didn’t suck. Slowly, oh so very slowly, I began making my way toward being more optimistic. I’m still not a true optimist but I do attempt to see the good in every situation. These three things have helped me to do so:
1. Medication - This is not for everyone. But once I realized the darkness in my mind wasn’t something I could fix on my own, I saw a doctor. The medication has done wonders in helping me see more clearly through the jumble of scary thoughts that use to plague and nearly paralyze me with fear every waking moment.
2. Imagination - Thinking up wild ideas about how the current situation could be so much worse often brings a laugh at my own creativity and really does help me be thankful that such and such a thing didn’t happen
3. Prayer - I’m religious, and prayer plays a gigantic part in my life. When I remember, I like to pray for Heavenly Father to help me see the beauty or lesson in my every day activites and situations. And I pray for clarity of thought, to be able to see through the emotions of events that are depressing or heartbreaking, to know that those feelings will pass and that there is still much good in the world.
I have to practice every day to keep an upbeat attitude about life, but, practice makes better. ;)
This post was written as part of Mommy Zabs’ first group writing project.
Summer’s guide to Mom De-Stressification
1. Have someone babysit the difficult child at least once a week.
* Note that the child labeled difficult may be an angel for the sitter, who may then ask you why you called her in tears over said child, which may in turn make you assume she thinks you’re just a bad impatient mother, which may cause more stress and tears.
2. Designate a certain amount of time every day as “room time”, where the children are to stay in their room and play quietly while you relax with the baby and a book.
*Note that your relaxation time may be interrupted by children having a shouting match over who is being the quietest. You may also hear small voices calling down the hallway every 5 minutes saying things like, “I have to pee!” or “I’m firsty!” or “Obi-Wan hit me with the light saber!” or “Count Dooku stole da Piston Cup! or *sob sob, blubber blubber, snort, sob*.
When trying to relax fails, just try to release.
3. Sit at the piano and pound on it.
*Note that a child may come out and ask in awe, “What’s dat bootiful song mom?” which may just make you smile and forget why you were pounding in the first place.
Pure Magic
“There!” Sherise said, taking a step back.
I turned cautiously toward the mirror to see the results. I pulled gently on a curl dangling over my shoulder. It sprang back when I released it. I smiled. I look…pretty, I thought to myself, feeling slightly surprised. Sherise dragged me over to the full length mirror. I swayed and turned in circles, admiring the soft pastel green dress that shimmered in the light. It felt so smooth against my skin. I hoped the rest of my night would be just as smooth.
An hour later I stood on the deck outside of the dance hall, hoping one of my dateless friends would show soon. Everyone said I should come even though I couldn’t date yet.
“We all dance with each other,” a friend had reassured me. Still, a knot was beginning to form in my stomach. Small, friendly private school or no, I felt somewhat silly going to Prom, the biggest dance of the year, without a boy escorting me.
The crunch of gravel beneath tires stirred me from my thoughts. I squinted into the approaching headlights, and sighed visibly as Jean stepped out of the car. We hugged, and made brave in each other’s dateless company, we entered the hall.
Immediate sounds of music and laughter entered my ears as we swung the huge wooden doors open. We were greeted with warm smiles and hello’s and soon I found myself dancing. First with Stan, then Mike and then Jim. As we danced I talked and giggled, but my eyes kept searching the room, for him. The one boy who gave me butterflies in my stomach whenever he looked my way.
I had been crushing on him for months now, well before he had asked my brother if I liked him. My dear brother simply told him what I had stated many times in conversations, “I dunno, but I know she isn’t interested in having a boyfriend.”
I’ve regretted many sentiments I’ve expressed over the years in an attempt to be different from other girls. But actual tears formed in my eyes as I saw my crush across the dance floor, Mary hanging on his arm. That could have been me.
As the song ended, I made my way to the D.J. to request my favorite slow song. I imagined Travis asking me to dance when it came on. He had still not noticed me.
I decided to make my way to the dessert table, where Travis and Mary were standing talking with some friends. Mary saw me first.
“Oh my gosh! You’re so pretty!” she exclaimed. (If she wasn’t such a nice person I would have hated her)
Then my eyes darted toward Travis. He was beaming. It was the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face and it was directed toward me.
“Nice,” he said, “you look so…nice.” he said shaking his head slightly as if amazed. I had the feeling if Mary wasn’t around he might have come up with something better than, nice. But it did the trick for me. I walked away from the table feeling thrilled.
As I rejoined my group of friends, I recognized the opening notes of the song I had requested, Dreaming my dreams by the Cranberries. The lights dimmed and I knew I had to dance to my favorite song. Before I could ponder on who to ask, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, stunned to find myself face to face with Travis.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, offering me his arm. I could only nod as I wrapped my arm around his and floated onto the floor. I still feel the magic, thinking of that blissful moment.
Soap Opera Sunday is hosted by Brillig of Twas Brillig and Kate of Walking Kateastrophe. Please visit either of their blogs for other Soap Opera Sunday posts!
To read my past Soap Opera Sunday posts click here.
Someday, he’ll blush to learn the truth
Should I be at all concerned that my four year old boy pretends to nurse his stuffed animals on occasion? Cause honestly it’s sorta cute, but if I should discourage it then I will.
I think his friend Blondie (who also has a baby sib) started the trend when at a playdate she was, “nursin’ dem(her dolls) wif my nibbles.” *chuckle* I think I’m going to use the term nibbles from here on out.
