Mental Health

Birdwatching with Bella

2012-05-22 18.12.01

Photo Jan 28, 2 47 03 PM

One way I struggle as a mother is connecting with my children. Bella is particularly challenging for me as she is  my little clone. She tends to be very long-winded and extremely needy in that auditory department. Like me, she is an over-sharer.

It is especially challenging for an over-sharer mom who also happens to be a crappy listener to connect with her child who over-shares and doesn’t listen. You can see how that doesn’t work. “Mom, listen to me.” “No Bella, you listen to me!” We go round and round in circles, neither listening and neither caring about what they other has to say.

I would dare say this problem with Bella is my most challenging as a mom, but then 50 more problems that are currently going unnoticed will abruptly come to my attention. So, let’s just say this is one of my hardest challenges.

But,people, I am here to happily report that I  made a breakthrough this past week. It was so huge that I called my husband at work and explained it through my tears of joy and gratitude. Maybe my “inloveathome” experiment will actually work after all, a little teeny change at a time?

So, what happened? Let me explain by oversharing. Bear with me.

One of our family traditions is taking a walk around the neighborhood after Sunday dinners. The past two weeks, we happened by our neighbor Sue’s house right as she was settling in to watch the hummingbirds feed for the night. The whole family stopped to chat but both times as the rest of the family went on home, Bella and I settled in to join Sue on her porch. I was delighted to see that Bella loved Sue’s bird sanctuary as much as me. Bella didn’t know it, but I have spent many moments alone in the past with Sue on her porch watching the birds. Bella seemed to fit right in with Sue and I, watching intently, enjoying the quiet, and discussing hummingbirds. We discovered that we all had many questions that needed to be answered about the hummingbirds. Sue suggested we look up the hummingbird mating flight patterns online. Unbeknownst to Sue, with one small sentence, she was an answer to my many many prayers.

The next day, as I arrived home after a long day of errands, Bella approached me while I was folding laundry. She had two papers covered with her own handwriting front and back. She informed me that she had been doing some research about hummingbirds all morning. As Bella proceeded to share what she had written I found that I was completely enthralled. I didn’t want to miss a word of what she had to share. It was as great of interest to me as it was to her and I was able to easily listen as she shared. She was providing a service to me by answering the questions I had voiced the day before. In the moment I felt a great love and appreciation for my Bella in a way I had never experienced before. I loved her for a part of her that has always made me batty. She was over-sharing in a way that I respected. Like me and her dad, Bella showed a great propensity for research. Like me and her dad, Bella showed her love for teaching. I was dumbfounded: what a little miracle she is! And to think that I had never taken the time to notice before? I was ashamed. As soon as Bella left the laundry room, I said a prayer thanking God for making this moment happen. It changed me. It made me into a better mother.

Here is a video of Sue and I enjoying a bluejay on her porch over a year ago.  I treasure this small video file for reasons only known to Sue and I. I don’t want to air Sue’s laundry to the internet, but she has experienced two extreme challenges in just a year’s time. At one point I remember writing her a letter while at church: through heavy heavy tears I told her I looked forward to many more excursions on her porch, even though I was 90% sure it was never going to happen. God is good. Miracles abound. I am so grateful for Sue and the time I have spent with her in her piece of heaven called her front-porch. Without Sue I don’t know if I would have ever had this major breakthrough with one of my hardest parenting challenges.

Monopoly on Self-Protection

monopoly

Well, I am back in therapy. This time it is marriage counseling (for the second time.) I know, I know, I should add this fine fact to my resume – expertise on the couch – wow, that sounds kinda dirty.

It’s interesting to me that when one is in therapy they just learn the same lessons about themself over and over. Like my husband explained, “it’s like peeling layers of an onion.” And I would add, each layer just seems to make your eyes sting a little bit more.

One little tidbit about me is that I self-protect.  For whatever reason I have abandonment issues, and I cling to very destructive tendencies as if they were a cobra and my only chance at a meal when I am starving. I may get to eat, but more than likely I am just going to get bit. The bite may not kill me, but it’s keeping me from eating.

I am still trying to process (you know you have a good counselor when they make your mind reel) what I learned from my last session on Friday, but several of my self-protection methods are: keeping high standards so that others won’t meet them and will inevitably let me down (making me right), staying a step ahead of everyone so they can’t touch me, and maintaining walls the size of China’s so that no one can hurt me. The degree to which these things are causing me pain is yet to be determined as my awareness is in infancy, but I certainly recognize that they are keeping me from the emotional  intimacy I desire. I think our therapist read this article before our session. Good stuff.

So I am trying to work on allowing imperfections (in me and others), staying present, and being vulnerable. I suck at all three. I believe if I can let some of these unproductive and self destructive tendencies go I will learn to be happier in life but specifically in my life at home. Sometimes it can be overwhelming.

Yesterday while playing monopoly as a family I got a glimmer of hope. It happened towards the end of the game (after being reprimanded several times for being on my phone – someone took it away, wandering off to cook dinner and dessert – missing many rent payments on my properties, and generally just being a crappy game player who doesn’t know how to live in the present.

As the players got more and more desperate for money, they got increasingly grateful any time they received some cash. I thought of the similarities between the game and my bankrupt soul.

As I was able to force myself to be present during the game, the little moments I have been missing all these years were HUGE to my soul: all the girls training Caroline to tell everyone to “pay up”, Sophia lamenting because she only passed go three times the whole game, Bella being super-focused on her desired property negotiations, and me landing on boardwalk the turn right after I forced Abigail to sell her hotel.

The hope lied in the fact that I have only one way to go: up and out. Even if I have to sell all my properties to do it, it’ll be worth the sacrifice to get closer to those that I love. But maybe perhaps there is a merciful God and He’ll help me to win the game without selling a single property. When I get to the end, He’ll say, “See, you just needed to trust me.”

Boston Tragedy and The Big Bad Media

IMG_1406All morning, since the moment I awoke, I have been glued to CNN livestream watching and hoping for the capture of the second suspect in the Boston Marathon bombing. I have felt myself getting more and more anxious and farther and farther from my family. I am less then a week into my experiment to see if I can always place  my family first, and I have failed this morning as I’ve totally ignored my 3 year old.

Here is a great article from Psychology Today about media making families sick. One of the things that it recommends is earning media time by participating in non-tech activities. With my 4 children I have found that if I were to do that  it would be a full-time job of regulation. I don’t believe in over-controlling them like it suggests by having charts and whatnot, but in pursuing the healthy habits together. “Hey guys, let’s walk to the park.” I often find that we don’t even have time for the media much less want it when we make other activities the first priority.

I suspect if today I had started my morning right with our goal of family time first thing each morning,  I wouldn’t have wasted the entire morning glued to the news about a situation that has no eternal value for me or my family. In fact, the only reason I was able to drag myself away from the news, was by holding myself accountable. Once I got off the news and opened up something more uplifting (for me it was scripture), I was utterly shocked by my immediate change of heart: I didn’t even want to go back to the nuisance of reporters watching police drink gatorade on the corner while speculating what may happen.

Media CAN be very destructive and we are learning this fact repeatedly as a family. It’s been a journey for us to find the right balance. (We aren’t so extreme to believe that we should even try to live in this world without it.) Our journey started first years ago with getting rid of the questionable PG-13 movies in our collection. (I readily admit that the only ones I have somewhat missed are Shrek and Legally Blonde) Then we got rid of cable TV all together. The benefits were immediate. We read more, the kids fought less, we spent more time connecting. (We then let in Netflix and Hulu – which we may need to reevaluate) Our focus as a family as of late has been to spend at least 50% of our media time with things that uplift, inspire, and are productive. (Getting rid of it all together is just out of the question for us at this point) Instead of getting down on myself about it, I am making a mental note to remember what happened to the numbing of my spirit this morning and not get sucked in next time tragedy strikes, which seems to be more and more often.

I guess for me the question that needs to remain in the forefront is, “Is this something that is uplifting, inspiring or productive?” The answer needs to be not only honest but honest in relation to the correct focus. If I am living a centered life on my family, is this uplifting, inspiring, or productive? I am pretty sure Caroline would answer with a resounding, “Mom, come here,” which she just yelled from wherever she is in this house (I have no idea) at this very instant.

How have you limited the media’s influence in your home? Or do you not think it is necessary?

Taking Care

You know how in passing we say “take care.”
Yeah, you’ve said it.
You’ve heard it.
Do you mean it when you say it?
Do you really hope others will take care of themselves?
Do you really do it?
When someone tells you to take care,
do you really take care of yourself?

As a codependent I used to think it was my job
to take care of everyone and everything.
I was always sticking my nose in other peoples’ business.
Yes, peoples is plural.
I tried to control others.
I would serve them to make them love me
or to change them
or just to be in control.
I had no idea I was doing it
but I was.
Then I gained awareness
and I’ve tried really hard to change me ways.

So now I try not to excessively worry about other people,
(it’s still a work in progress)
and I also try a lot harder to worry
about the only thing that was in
my control all along: me, myself and I.

Several years ago I made a very conscious decision
that I was going to take care of me.
That little decision has made me a much happier person.
Not only did it free me from the things that weighed me down and were out of my control,
but it changed my focus completely.
I am always asking myself what I need now.
I don’t rely on everyone else to make me happy,
I just try to have a healthy self dialogue to honestly assess my needs
and then I go out and get what I need.

I never used to do that
and then I would be all resentful that nobody was taking care of me.
Half the time I didn’t know what I needed
and half the time I did, but I would wait for someone else
to magically show up and give it to me.
In this case there is no such thing as magic.

Of course I was too afraid to look inward
and realize that the blame lied with me,
and not on the others who couldn’t work magic
and so I walked around with a chip
on my shoulder all of the time.
I was mad all of the time.
Nobody cared about me.
Boo hoo hoo.

Now I can graciously accept it when others love me
because I no longer have the excessive need to be loved
and I don’t expect people to work magic
like in the past.
I appreciate their love and want it,
but I don’t have an excessive need for it.
I have the one thing that I really need most:
I love myself.
I take care of myself.

Two days ago
I found this little gem below
on the ground next to
our pile of backpacks.
One of my daughters
had been writing about me at school.

It made my century.
One – someone else notices that I can take care of myself.
Two – that person is one of the people I want to be a good example for most.
Three – She knows it is safe to say that I have flaws because we all do.
Four – She didn’t dwell on the flaws. Thank goodness.

It is the only way to really live: taking care.
If we can’t take care of ourselves
nobody else will.
Or they might try really hard
but it will never really penetrate because
the inner you will be in turmoil.
Trust  me on this.
Take care now, ya’ hear.
While running after writing this post
I heard this song by MJ
and thought my next step is to
find the right balance
of caring for myself and others
for the right reasons.

I wish Michael Jackson would have taken care of himself.

Book Review: The Willpower Instinct

This is a paid review for the BlogHer Book Club.
Go here to join the discussion.

The Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works, Why It Matters, and What You Can Do to Get More of ItThe Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works, Why It Matters, and What You Can Do to Get More of It by Kelly McGonigal
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Here is my word one review of this book: fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.

Reading this book made me feel like I was being embraced at the smart kid table. Even though I only got a low 20 on my ACT it no longer mattered, the smart kids were more than willing to share with me their secrets. Even though I didn’t know it before I joined them for lunch, I really needed to know all their secrets. You see the smart people are the ones who get willpower. Because they ever so intellectually understand the research; they know what they have to do to drink milk not soda, avoid the desserts all together, and most importantly NOT say anything EVER that is going to be offensive. (Well, I guess I did kind of know I needed that last one.)

I would love to follow around the author of this book: Kelly McGonigal, Ph.D. and a professor at Stanford. I want to watch her every move and I want to question her incessantly at how much of the information she uses from her research to guide her every day decisions. I laugh as I imagine the endless scenarios: Starbucks (are you getting that coffee just because you didn’t get enough sleep last night?), Checking e-mail (Are you checking it out of habit, is this what you really want to be doing right now?), Vending machine (Are you not getting the healthy option just because it’s there?). Read the book. You’ll quickly understand.

All kinds of interesting people find their own willpower by attending McGonigal’s seminar, and for the rest of us less-interesting folks who can’t afford to go to California, there is the book. I think I would prefer to attend the seminar, but the book sometimes just has to do the trick because it’s all we’ve got. I did a quick read of this book for this review, but the next time I pick it up (and there will be a next time) I plan to read it as it was originally intended: a self-guided master through a willpower challenge in my life. I think the book will be much more powerful when used a bit at a time towards a real-life obstacle, especially for those of us from the lower end of the IQ spectrum who (cough cough) have a hard time retaining all the amazingly fascinating information.

Great read and I highly recommend it to everyone, but especially those of us that are sick of fighting the same battles of willpower over and over again. And really, isn’t that all of us? Even the kids at the smart table had to learn this for themselves; they just did it before the rest of us suckers.

View all my reviews

Here is an interesting small workshop I found on youtube.

2013 goals or Going for the Gold
I’ve been trying to finalize my 2013 goals.
Even though I gave myself a C last year,
I am an absolute believer in the adage
“goals that are not written down are just wishes.”
While at Ikea on our date Saturday
LG and I came up with a winning idea
on how to motivate our family
towards betterment.
Money is a pure motivator
for all of us,
so we are going to reward ourselves
with GOLD.
We decided on family Olympics
for 2013.
Or as LG says,
“We’re having family hunger games.”
Everyone will get to put their names
in a pot in a once a week drawing
for 5 gold coins.
We will all earn chances in the pot
by accomplishing
our 5 personal and 5 family goals daily.
(That’s up to 70 shots a week)
Unlike hunger games,
we want our names in the pot.
The more we accomplish our goals,
the better chance we have to win a gold coin (or 5).
Our theme is
“Go for the Gold.”
Get it.
We’re the Gold’s.
We’re so funny.
I am super excited about
the 5 rings of improvement.
LG and I narrowed our desires for our kids into
5 categories:
spiritual, mental, physical, emotional, and financial.
(See the above photo)
Here are the goals
we came up with as a family
in each category.

Some of these goals are going to be easier than others.
Reading should be a cinch.
Believe it or not
I think sharing feelings
might be harder (especially for some)
 than daily scripture study.
The kids are already up in arms
about the soda
but I love that they will still have the choice.
If they drink soda,
they lose a shot at a dollar.
If it were up to us
we’d take it away all together
but this way we make the point
without taking away their agency.
I am super excited about
seeing how this family challenge
will pan out.
I hope to win a few bucks along the way
and I think this may
have the “fun” factor
to keep us motivated all year.
Anyhow,
I am sure you have all been dying
to see what my goals are for
2013.
With no further ado,
by category
we go.
Financial
1.Save a $1 a day toward family vacation.
2.Stay under budget.
Emotional
1.Journal/study/meditate daily before doing anything else.
2.No phone in bed.
3.Give a meaningful inspired service weekly.

Physical
1.Use myfitnesspal every day until I weigh under 160 pounds.
2 Keep running 3x/week.
3.Run 2 half marathons (unless I get pregnant)
4. Add in a fourth workout every week. Something other than running.

Spiritual
1.Pray every day.
2.Temple once a month (take Abigail with 4x)
3.Organize family genealogy.

Mental
1.Learn a new word every day. 
(I discovered a cool app for this)
2.Go back to school,
even if it’s just one class.
3.Write every day
(blog/outline of novel)
4.Read 100 books
(adding in 1 junior non-fiction
to regular reading goals)

Marital
1.Bond every night.
(Communicate regularly)
2.Go to bed and wake up together.
It’s lofty, I know,
but if I only get a C,
I will still have accomplished twice
as much as if I had never written anything down.
My OCD side really loves fresh starts.
Just think, we have one every day.

When Tragedy Strikes

I feel. I feel deep. It is part of who I am. I have no way around it. I am a sensitive person. I am pretty sure I get it from my mom. I cry at the drop of a hat. I really should be an actress. So, when tragedy strikes, it kind of knocks me out for a bit. It really knocks me out. I have to give myself cognitive therapy so that I don’t succumb to the warmth of the sheets in my bed. I have to distract myself. I even lie to myself if necessary. Most of all I have to get some answers.

I think because I feel, I have chosen God consistently throughout my life. I need somewhere to go when nothing makes sense and let’s face it, there is a lot that doesn’t make sense.
Like other people though, I usually vacillate in my own incompetence for a bit before I turn to God. I am trying to change that, but I guess I can take comfort in the fact that at least I get to God at some point. A lot of people don’t have the same luxury.
So after the CT shooting last Friday, these were my reactions, put out there for everyone and their dog to see. Oh the evil of social media. It really shows one’s true colors.

This should not still be happening. Give me your best solutions for the safety of our children. Serious. I am writing Congress. I am so heartbroken.


I refuse to read more than one news report about the shooting. 
I suggest you all do the same.

Use your energy to make the world a better place.

We have the highest obligation to protect the children. The American citizens demand that every school has two armed trained military personnel on guard every day. Repost if you agree.

Pondering again on the words of Mormon leader Dallin H Oaks spoken to the world that would listen just two months ago:

Although I do not speak in terms of politics or public policy, like other Church leaders, I cannot speak for the welfare of children without implications for the choices being made by citizens, public officials, and workers in private organizations. We are all under the Savior’s 

command to love and care for each other and especially for the weak and defenseless.

Children are highly vulnerable. They have little or no power to protect or provide for themselves and little influence on so much that is vital to their well-being. Children need others to speak for them, and they need decision makers who put their well-being ahead of selfish adult interests.

I know one amazing 12-year-old angel with open arms and the most tender heart who is probably cuddling up with some kindergartners tonight and that brings good tears to my eyes. Love you Braxton Wills!

How about we train gun sniffing dogs to guard every school? I seriously can’t stop obsessing for an answer. I grieve by taking action.

Trying to press forward by going out to a movie but it’s hard to move forward when so many fellow Americans are in mourning. God bless.

It just occurred to me that God had even more reason to be in public schools on Friday. I am sure He held each of those victims in the palm of His hand and hugged them as He told them they would never again have to feel pain.

 See how I vacillate? I ended off with this:

Love. Peace. Joy. This world is overcome and the next will have no heartache.

And this: Must read! So touching.


twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate.
their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
they were filled wit

h such joy, they didn’t know what to say.
they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
“where are we?” asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
“this is heaven.” declared a small boy. “we’re spending Christmas at God’s house.”
when what to their wondering eyes did appear,
but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
and in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
those children all flew into the arms of their King
and as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
one small girl turned and looked at Jesus’ face.
and as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, “I’ll take care of mom and dad.”
then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe
then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
“Let My power and presence re-enter this land!”
“may this country be delivered from the hands of fools”
“I’m taking back my nation. I’m taking back my schools!”
then He and the children stood up without a sound.
“come now my children, let me show you around.”
excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
and i heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
“in the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT.”

Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA

The only place for peace is God. I don’t know why it takes me so long to figure that out every time tragedy strikes. I am stubborn. Hard-headed. Prideful. A natural woman. Eventually I’ll get there without vacillation, but at least I am aware of my tendency, and that is the first step towards fixing it.
So, as I hold onto God as tight as I can today. I write this.
I am proud to say that my kids went off to school today just like any other day. I am not mother of the year, far from it, but I made a choice a long time ago to limit the media into my home. We don’t have any TV but Netflix and it makes all the difference. They know something tragic happened and we have prayed for CT, but my babies went off to school today feeling safe. And that is all a mother can do. If by chance some awful thing ever does happen to them, all I want them to have is a feeling of safety and security and love up to the very moment of the unspeakable.

I thank others who have helped me make sense of it all.
Two links were particularily helpful. 
This one gives a plea for the mentally ill.
And my hubby sent me here where he was able to convince me that the answer is not about gun control
or even about guarding our schools. 
The answer my friends is the same answer for all other woes in our life:
Trust in God.
Evil has always been around. Awful things happen every day. We are no worse off today then yesterday. In fact, we are better off because we don’t live in a war-torn country. We as Americans freak out when tragedy strikes, but tragedy strikes much more frequently in other parts of the world.
So what can I do?
I can trust in God.
How can I trust in God?
I can continue to pray with my family.
We can read our scriptures and let God’s word work in our lives.
We can limit the crooked media’s influence in our homes.
We can show compassion to others.
We can stop having stigmas towards the mentally ill.
We can reach out to our neighbors who may be struggling.
We can love more deeply.
We can quit fighting over politics.
And that is what I resolve to do.
And because I have a new resolve, 
I can be grateful to God for the reminder, 
even if it’s in the form of an awful tragedy.

A God of Grace
I try to apply
a good
Southern saying
into my life
daily.
It helps.
A lot.
For instance:
when your 13-year-old
has lost yet one more thing.
This time it’s a $30
memory card
that holds all of her photos
for photography class.
You worry that she’s never
going to be organized enough
to get into college.
You start to edge out onto
the cliff of anger
and desperation
and are about to go crazy
with the lecture
and the screaming,
but you take a step back
and pray
instead.
God’s got this.
See how that works?
Worry.
Gone.
Just like that.
It works on the big things too.
Like when you are on the verge
of divorce
because your husband
has quit functioning
all together
(I can say this
because it has been years now)
and you can’t go another day
with a broken man.
God’s got this.
And he did.
And it wasn’t up to me.
It never is.
I am not the healer.
I do not control anyone
or anything.
All I can control is me
and my choice to be happy.
That’s it.
And the best way to be happy
is to know
God’s got this.
Because he always does.

Fat

Fat is a nasty word.
The only time it should be used is in regards to the stuff on the backside of a butchered pig.
Fatback is the only time when fat is a good thing.
And what a good thing it is.
Just ask the green beans.

I’ve been called fat. A lot. It sucks.
After watching this video on facebook yesterday, I was perplexed.


I offered the following on my page as a passive aggressive response to a few people I know who judge “fat people.”

“I hate it when physically in-shape people look down upon those who aren’t. I hate to tell you this, but you’re not superior, especially in regards to the things that matter most: kindness and appreciation for others wherever they are in life is a learned art and maybe you should get off the treadmill long enough to take some lessons. I don’t experience as much prejudice in this department as I used to, but it sure makes my blood boil whenever I encounter it.”

The funniest thing about my above rant is that I got all kinds of people, my friends mind you, apologizing to me for the way that I had been treated. Why did they apologize? Because they think I am fat and that I have reason to be apologized to. Kind of ironic, huh? I never mentioned that I had been treated badly, did I? In fact, I hadn’t had any teasing at all, I only posted the comment in defense of others and in opposition to the people out there looking down on this lady. I’ve actually been feeling pretty good about the way I am looking until yesterday. HA.

Well as you, who read my blog, know I’m on a journey of self-discovery. I’ve learned to love myself and I am still learning to take care of myself. I all too well know the life of this anchor. I know what it is like to be raising 3 young daughters (and she has a full-time job to boot) and to feel the stress and eat too much and exercise too little. I also know what it’s like to get off my butt and count calories. I also know what it’s like to have a propensity to being larger as a child and as an adult.

I also know what it’s like to lose a nephew and to know that in his last week on this earth he was called fat by some mean little girls and that the word F A T may have been racing through his mind in his last breathe. It breaks my heart. Absolutely makes me shed tears. Right now in fact.

Yes, people are fat, but trust me, they know it. You pointing it out to them, or looking down on them, or even apologizing for others’ fat name callers to someone who has recently lost 35 pounds doesn’t really help the situation and it doesn’t really motivate people to be better.

Do you know what motivates people to be better? Loving them wherever they are. Loving them right where they are. Even if it’s at 700 pounds. Anyone who has watched Richard Simmons should know this fact.


Do you know why loving them helps? Because the reason they are fat is that they don’t love themselves enough. Period. Or maybe they have a health condition? Or maybe they are just a husky kid that could eventually be a college football star if they live long enough to pursue that goal? The point being: You don’t know what they are capable of, if all you see is F A T. And you will also never know the beauty of loving people in their weakness if you can’t see past it. You don’t even know what scars are under the fat.

If you can love F A T people then maybe they can learn to love themselves. And if you can love them F A T, maybe they will love you in your weakness.

See how that works? Well, yeah, you do kind of have to admit your own weakness first. Maybe you could start with judging,  lack of charity, or complete and total PRIDE?

Embracing mom-hood
I’m learning to embrace my mom-hood.
It’s kind of like man-hood, but with boobs.
And a whole lot of other stuff.
I have recently learned something about myself.
Something that has never dawned on me before.
I’m insecure in my parenting.
I don’t know why,
I really am a pretty darn good mom.
I can only remember one time with my kids got in trouble in school.
Abigail was in kindergarten and she got written up for writing on her desk. In pencil.
What can I say? She was my first.
My kids are well-rounded.
They are kind for the most part.
Why should I be insecure?
I am now going to resist listing their good traits.
Because I am trying to learn to NOT need to do that.
It’s not healthy.
My kids are MY KIDS.
What else do they need to prove to me?
Nothing.
They don’t need to be a certain way for me to love them.
And they certainly shouldn’t need to be a certain way for me to love me.
So in honor of embracing my impeerfections as a parent,
and in honor of the vulnerability 
that I’ve been learning about in Brene Brown’s book.
Here is the kind of mom I am NOT.
1- I am not an overly anal car-seat parent.
I don’t believe in making my kids ride in a car while suffocating.
(After posting this photo on facebook it was brought to my attention
that the straps should be tighter and the harness higher.)
Whatever.
I also usually don’t remember to remind my kids 
to put on their seat-belts til we are at least 
out of the driveway and usually we are down the street a ways.
2- I hope to have one more baby to test this next mom item out,
but I don’t believe I will ever be one of those wrapper moms.
Kind of like rapper mom, 
but with a big long blanket that goes around your whole body.
And inside the blanket is a baby,
wrapped to your body.
Clinging to you for their very life,
like a car-seat will kill their brain cells.
Hmm, maybe I am a car-seat mom after all.
I am a total believer in the baby carrier.
Always have been, and I believe I always will be.
I also secretly hope that my hubby would never
be a wrapper-dad.
I just don’t find it sexy at all.
Unless we are in the African jungle,
and it would be the only way to keep the baby safe.
You know straddling his chest,
while he takes his machete to fight off the warthog,
that might be sexy.
3-My three year old goes to bed with a 
sippy cup of chocolate milk every night.
It is just a little bit of chocolate
and we only added the chocolate because my mom
ruined the perfectly good white milk on her last visit.
I have no intention of changing this tooth decaying habit
until  my dentist tells me I have to.
It’s hard enough to get the kid to bed,
and at least we can bribe her with the cup.
And let’s face it,
I’m soooo over it by 10 pm
when we finally get her to bed.
4-I put my three year old to bed at 10 pm.
If any of you would like to come over and wrestle her to sleep earlier
or keep her from her 4:00 nap every day,
more power to you.
5- In the summer my kids and I stay up til midnight
and we all usually sleep in until at least 10 am.
I always laugh at the parents who say they would love
for their kids to sleep in,
but, “THEY JUST WON’T,
I’ve tried keeping them up.”
Yeah, well, you have to keep them up for longer than one night.
Keep them up late for a week,
and I promise they will sleep in.
I think some parents take pride in their
early to bed, early to rise schedule.
I might be one of them if I could ever do it.
6- I really really love Little Ceasar’s Pizza
and Taco Tuesdays at Del Taco.
I wish my hubby would let us eat out every night.
I don’t really enjoy cooking
unless I am in the mood to bake.
I’m a good cook,
it’s jut not my thing.
7-I only change my kids sheets as needed.
Sometimes we can go a couple of months,
especially when they sleep on top of their comforters.
A few dead skin cells
obviously doesn’t kill them.
8- I only scrub my showers on a bi-monthly basis.
Get over it.
9-I make my kids fold their own clothes
and let their drawers be messy
if that’s how they roll.
10- I yell at my kids,
but try to minimize that to
only once a day,
and even then I save the
really angry tone
for the big time
(like when they run in the street
and almost get hit by a car)
and then I hug them real tight
because I am so relieved that they didn’t get themselves killed.
All while secretly knowing
it wouldn’t have been themselves
to get themselves killed,
but my crappy parenting.
And there you have my worst fear.
I am totally anxious about my kids
growing up.
I don’t want them to be living proof
that I was the crappiest mom in the world.
Oh but Alice,
the only thing a parent needs
to be a good parent is love.
Well, if I could just convince myself of that
then I might be ready for what awaits me.
Please God, don’t let them go to jail
or get in a car accident
while not wearing their seat-belt.
The six cavities I can handle,

and the emotional immaturity,
and the inability to organize,
and the one who calls home from school once a week
because she needs more love,
and the whole nail polish kit
left outside for a week
with most of the caps off,
(they were outside because
they’ve been banned from inside)
the couches with marker stains,
the occasional B on a report card,
the one who is just like her dad,
and the other one who is just like her mom,
and the one who just never shuts up,
ever.
I can handle all of that,
and probably a lot more than I realize,
but my prayer
is that you don’t let any physical harm
come to them because of my
inabilities and weaknesses
and the fact that I didn’t want them
strapped to my chest
because I was just happy
for them to do their own thing.
So that I could do mine.
Please make sure your 
guardian angels make up the difference.
Because really,
that’s all a mom can do.
Admit it.
Get over it.
And leave it in the hands of God.
Now, the way this works is you tell me something
about your parenting that makes you vulnerable
and then we leave our kids at home
with their dad while bonding over Olive Garden breadsticks.
You can tell me that you are really good at all of the above,
only if you are willing to dish out a list of 10 of your own
where you suck.
Because perfectionism is a myth,
and the sooner we all embrace that,
the happier we will be.