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Today was a bad day.

Baby B was inconsolable, whiny, and spazy most of the day. He didn’t want to be held. He didn’t want to be put down. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to not play (and I know this particular statement makes no sense, but hey, sometimes babies don’t make sense). He wanted to thrash and scratch and scream and whine. Frankly, by lunchtime I was cursing my very existence on this planet and simultaneously celebrating that that little monster finally surrendered to a nap. And then, there was that moment where I pondered posting my woes on Facebook and had to physically halt myself from picking up my smartphone. Stop. Wait. Think it through.

Because I knew what the resounding response to my vent-session would be. Well-meaning friends, family and fellow-mommies would spout of the joys of motherhood and how time goes by so fast and how I should treasure the good with the bad, or just take a deep breath and keep going, or even some perfectly sweet bible verse or inspirational meme meant to warm my heart and calm my nerves. It’s not the I don’t truly appreciate these sentiments and words from those who have been, or are in the trenches of motherhood with me (some days, I’m the one posting them!). But… some days…

Just let me have bad day!

Some days motherhood is NOT pretty.

Some days it is downright UGLY.

And exhausting.

Frustrating.

Depressing.

Overwhelming!

And that is okay. I need to know that it’s okay.  I need to know that I’m normal. I need to feel like hiding in the bathroom for a few moments with a lump in my throat and fists clenched in frustration is just fine. I need people to be REAL with me so that I don’t feel like a massive failure every day. Can we please do that, as moms? As friends? I don’t need to be reminded of time going by quickly or better days ahead. In my heart of hearts, I KNOW that this is just a bad day among many glorious and truly joyful days with my kids. I know too that the joyful ones will pour over these nasty ones and make them just a faint memory in time.

But today…

I need someone to just say “Amen, mama!”

Buy me a stiff margarita and big bowl of chips.

Or, pat me on the back, give me an awkward side-hug and say, “Word. I’m right there with you sister.”

Or, [sarcastic mommies will only get this], shout out with me “Kids suck!”

Because sometimes they do. 

This doesn’t make me a bad mom. This doesn’t mean that I don’t completely love and adore my children. This doesn’t mean I don’t love being a mom. This doesn’t mean I’m a mess. This doesn’t mean I don’t see the value of this time as a SAHM. All it means is, this day, this one right here. It’s been a tough one. And it’s okay.

Just let me have a bad day.

And pour me that margarita.

I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we are days away from entering 2015. Where are all these years going? I feel like it wasn’t long ago that the world was in an uproar over the coming of the year 2000 and Y2K. So how in the world is it nearly 15 years later. Answer? I’m in my (gag) 30s now. And how did that happen?!

2014 has been a tough one. Much tougher than I thought, because I don’t remember being terribly fond of 2013 either. In reflecting on the last 12 months, I feel like it has been my toughest personally, as a mother, physically and on my marriage. We have been through incredibly trying changes, big disappointments, challenges and transitions. Just before we welcomed Sweet B I declared to a friend, “I cannot handle one more change or transition! I will literally lose my mind if I have to deal with one more thing.” Word to the wise, never declare anything like that. It’s equal to saying “It can’t get any worse.” As we all know, it can, and it will.

This is not to say that my life is not full of incredibly rich blessings. I don’t ever want to short change or take for granted all the God has done. I have 2 incredibly amazing and healthy children, a loving husband of 6+ years, a supportive family, a beautiful home and a few golden friends that have been my rocks in these rough waters. But dang it, life is just tough. I think I said it best a few weeks ago when I declared to my husband, “I’m tired of being a responsible adult.” Hahahaha! But seriously…

Having said all of that, I have willed myself to look forward to 2015 with great hope, optimism and goals. I am not, by nature, a dreamer, but I have sadly seen myself cease to dream completely in the last few years. My days are too full of diapers, laundry, bills and To Do lists to dream, or so it feels at times. And that is a very sad existence. I don’t expect miracles in 2015, but I do have more hope than I have had in a long time.

My biggest project is me. But not in my typical perfectionist standard way. This year is about making real changes to bring forth true joy, instead of temporary happiness. Lasting peace instead of fleeting rest. Real ambition instead of effortless goals. Authentic parenting instead of social-network-driven performance. Deep love and dedication to my marriage instead of survival mode. I am excited for what is to come and I am praying for success.

What are your goals for this new year?

Cheers to 2015!

Greetings my long lost blog world. It has been ages since I’ve put words to paper (or screen, in this case). My head has been swimming with things to share and poignant moments of motherhood, but my mind and body have been very tired and oftentimes overwhelmed as well. Being a mom to two boys under the age of 2.5 years is not easy. It is filled with endless love, mind-bendingly awesome moments, silly and sometimes gross happenings and can be summarized in a heart that is full overflowing with adoration for my family. BUT… it is exhausting. I may have forgotten the toll that sleep deprivation takes on my mind and body and my emotional stability.

Before I get too far into that, we welcomed Sweet B (which is what I will call him on the blog) on October 1st just before 6 pm. He was another LARGE baby at 9 pounds 4 ounces and over 20 inches. He was also LATE, just like his big brother. But his delivery was much easier and much smoother than the first, though not without its harrowing moments. He is so worth the yucky pregnancy, labor and rough postpartum pains…

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Photo by Traci Farias Photography

 

My husband and I are in awe at the beautiful children that very ordinary people like us can make. It almost makes me want to have another one. ;)  And, as I was counseled, my fears were very unwarranted. I loved B the moment he was born and laid on my chest. I finally got THAT moment that I had been dreaming about since my first pregnancy (and didn’t get because of complications in labor). It was a magical moment that I will never forget. B is a very different boy from his brother. It has been a really cool experience to see how brothers can be so very different, even from birth. Little C was such an easy baby. I was lucky and blessed and I feel like God was watching over me, knowing that I couldn’t handle much more as a first time mom. This time around, God must have a lot of confidence in my parenting skills, ‘cuz this little buddy is TOUGH. Very needy snuggly. Very [ravenously] hungry. Super sensitive. I wanted a mama’s boy. I surely got one.

Motherhood is awesome. Growing up I was never the girl that dreamed of love, marriage and the baby in the baby carriage, but I got all of that, and it feels really good. The boys keep me very busy at home. A part of me misses working and wonders if I will go back, but I try to focus on this moment in my life. This moment that God is calling me to be a mom to our children. I have to catch myself when I tell people I’m “just a mom” now. I have to realize that being a mom is an extremely important job and that I need to invest my whole heart in it and the benefits are so much greater than a title and a 401k plan.

Soon, when my eyes are less cloudy and my head is more clear, I will share B’s nursery (which is super cute and I’m soooo proud of) and more of the happenings in our little life. For now, duty calls. Or, dookie calls I should say. Yup, diaper change time.

 

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