The Good, The Bad, & MY Ugly

I think many of us envisioned what being a mom would be like. This beautiful bundle of joy that we would cherish and love. Those little hands and feet that we would caress. Those adorable cheeks that we would kiss and kiss and kiss. Don't forget that wonderful smile and giggle.

From the very beginning of both of my pregnancies, I had a wonderful experience and was overjoyed. Of course, there was the weight gain, the cravings, the weird things that would go on with my body that no book could come close to describing. I tried to cherish each pregnancy regardless.

The funny thing about Mother Nature is that she hypnotizes us with all these precious little things our baby does that it makes us develop amnesia. I guess if we remembered the pain of child birth, the lack of sleep, and the many other things that occur, we would be a dying species.

Yes, I did fall immediately in love with my children the moment they were placed in my arms. The love has just grown and grown. *happy music starts to play in the background, flowers and rainbows appear*

Now it's time for MY ugly. My personal confession. I hate to even admit to this, but I thought I'd share. After reading numerous books on the joys of being a mother, I never came across anyone that ever stated any real negativity to it.

Prior to having children, I will admit that I had very little patience and I was very much consumed with ME. Having children has definitely changed my level of patience and how little me time there is. I feel that 95% of my life revolves around the kids. This is a rough estimate, of course. I'm sure you get the idea of what I'm saying. Especially since they are so young, 3 and 1, they are so dependent upon me. I knew this part prior to having them. I definitely didn't expect them to be self-sufficient beings right from the get go.

There are moments when I absolutely dislike being a mom. Yes, I said it. Yes, there is still a feeling of guilt, but it's the truth. At first, I felt truly guilty to having these feelings. I felt I wasn't being a good mother. Maybe there was something wrong with my motherly wiring. Maybe, maybe, maybe it's just the truth. Regardless, I know that I'm a good mom. I love my children, but I don't love every single minute I have with them.

There are the drives when all I can hear is the stereo sound of the two of them crying and fighting in the background. Moments when all I'm trying to do is go use the bathroom and one, if not both of them, are in there with me. The tantrums over, literally, spilled milk. The lack of patience that drives me nuts. The sound of me asking the 3 year old to do something over and over again. There are the times when the sound of, "Mama" or "Mommy", actually brings a tension down my neck and back because the tone of it is done in just that way. The way the 1 year old is on me like white on rice and all I need is to have a moment without anyone in my bubble. I can go on and on.

Deep down, I enjoy my 1 hour of alone time at the gym. My hour of just sweating and working out my inner aggressions of life. I do enjoy it when my husband comes home from work early and I am no longer out numbered by the kids. I like the end of the day when both kids are quietly sleeping and my personal bubble is unoccupied. I enjoy getting my hair done where I can sit quietly and read tabloid/beauty magazines and hope the hair dresser is not in a chatty mood. Yes, these are some of my deep down guilty pleasures.

Maybe that's also why Mother Nature has developed unconditional love. A love that can withstand anything. A love that causes all the bad aspects to be overlooked. A love so deep that it's indescribable. Unconditional love has to be what I have for these two because I definitely wouldn't be able to put up with them if it wasn't.

Busy, Busy, Stress, Stress, Gross, Gross!

The last few weeks have been filled with a lot of changes for the entire family. Actually, it's been the first half of 2010 that's been filled with change, both good and bad. I am hoping and praying the second half of 2010 will be filled with much happier things. Although it's entirely too early to determine if things are taking a turn, the last few weeks have been extremely stressful. It's forced Hubs and I to focus our energy into other things, mainly relocating. With that said, family QT has dwindled and become almost none existent. Aside from the few hours spent at the fair, I'm surprised we all recognize each other.

Another example is the great meals I've been serving the kids. From late night drive thrus to various fast food joints to those great microwave mac and cheese bowls. The kids and I have been filling ourselves with preservatives, grease, and mystery ingredients up the ying-yang. If you need another example of a drive thru horror story click here. Can I also add that both kids have the runs? Too much grease?!

If I can figure out which box holds our kitchen pots and pans, perhaps I can whip up something. Never mind the fact that the fridge contains milk, orange juice, yogurt, and eggs. Let's see if someone from the Food Network can make something edible with those ingredients. British buff guy from Mission Impossible, I'm challenging you!

Yes, the last few weeks have made me an emotional eater. French fries and Pinkberry seem to be my comfort food. The gym sessions have been non-existent the last couple of weeks and have been replaced with sorting through odds and ends and packing. How much crap can one household have? Gees!

Let's talk about personal hygiene now. I am proud to say that this is one thing I have not let slip through the cracks entirely. I have managed to wash my hair every 2-3 days...maybe 4. I have discovered a nice little product that my sister introduced me to. The hair accessories I have on my hair is a direct indication of how many days have passed since the last washing. For example, freshly washed hair will be worn down. Day 2: pony tail. Day 3: pony tail and clip. Day 4: pony tail, clip, and headband. Maybe if the hair doesn't touch my face, I can go another day. Let's not continue. From there it just gets plain gross.

Showers have been a record 20 seconds. Luckily, I developed skills from when my children were newborns that have come in handy. You can save time by shampooing your hair and letting the suds run down your body as you scrub. No need to soap! If you use extra conditioner on your hair and let it run down as you rinse, you've moisturized your skin already...no need for lotion.

As if my laundry room was not a complete disaster to begin with, I am proud to say that I managed to wash and dry all the clothes prior to the big relocation. These clothes were literally thrown into black garbage bags. No sorting or folding of any kind. I literally have to dig into the garbage bags to find clean clothes for everyone. These garbage bags full of clothes are decorating my bedroom. This is only one side of the room. Heaven forbid I give you a full 360 view. All I can say is lovely!

Today, I managed to get a few things done. My main goal today was to hang out with the kids. The few moments I have had with them during the last few weeks was when I would pick them up after work and get them ready for bed. Sad!

I did manage to hang out as the cable guy installed our cable and internet. Give me some credit. It's one more thing to check off the list. At least now I can post about my experiences. My eyes were starting to hurt reading things off of my Iphone.

Here's a picture of the classy ensemble that greeted the cable guy.

Yes, that is a Thunder Cats t-shirt complete with plaid bottoms. Don't hate. At least I matched...in my eyes, I do. If only I owned a Voltron shirt too. Am I the only one that remembers these cartoons?

Tiffany Blue Pandora's Box

How would I describe my life?

I like to think of it as a beautiful, Tiffany blue, Pandora's box complete with that silky smooth, white ribbon wrapped around it. Oooolala!!!

Now, now! No one go summa cum laude, Harvard grad, ivy league, top of my class in Greek mythology on me. This is just a metaphor. Work with me people!

We all know and love it! That lovely Tiffany blue box, complete with that semi-shiny, silky white ribbon. Just the sight of it given to anyone of us would increase our heart rate two-fold. I love that shade so much, it was the color of my wedding cake.

That's probably how I would describe my life. I love it! I look at the life that Hubs and I have built together and it brings a smile upon my face. I look at the kids and the sheer joy sends a warmth of love upon myself. The feeling is beyond words itself.

Then there's the Pandora's box metaphor that comes into play. No, my life box isn't filled with the evils of the world. It is filled with so many other thing, but I wouldn't describe them as evil. It's just the everyday concerns of life. Sometimes, I feel like there's so much to worry about and so many things going on. I wonder if that silky white ribbon holding everything together is going to last another day.

There's the minor stuff, for instance, what am I going to pack for lunch tomorrow, will I ever get that laundry room organized, etc. Yeah, something to think about, but it's nothing to really lose sleep over. Even these minor worries can accumulate and can cause some havoc in ones life.

Then there's the major stuff, for instance, is there enough money in our bank account to pay for that bill, hopefully we find a bone marrow compatible for Uncle L, etc. Things that will keep you tossing and turning through the night. They are so beyond my control.

Then there's deeper stuff, for instance, did I really have to get mad at Princess Ninja over that, am I spending enough time with Chubs, am I being a good mom and wife, etc. These are thoughts that I often reflect upon. Things that I can make a conscious effort to improve.

Some how, some way that semi-shiny, silky smooth white ribbon seems to always manage to hold everything in place. There are moments when all the worries of the world seem to be busting out of my box. The perfectly shaped Tiffany box is becoming dysmorphic and the lid is barely on.

Life has a way of working itself out. It doesn't always work out the way we want it to or the way we expect it to. I've learned to take a deep breath, step back, and enjoy the beautiful, Tiffany blue, Pandora's box that I call my life. Of course, it wouldn't be complete without the white ribbon holding it all together by a lovely bow.

The Brady Bunch House...nixed!

As I was growing up (circa in my 20s), I envisioned what type of life I would have in the future. It seemed pretty typical. I wanted to find the man of my dreams and marry him, have a couple of kids, a nice job, and a lovely home. I did grow up watching the Brady Bunch, so you can only imagine what was going on in my mind.....that happily ever after....la la la....birds singing....sun shining....blah blah blah.

Well, I think my vision lacked a lot of details. A LOT of details. Some how the powers-that-be took the wheel of life and drove me straight to my dreams. Granted the trip isn't a smooth one and the journey is still on going.

I was lucky enough to find the man I would fall in love with and marry. He definitely didn't come riding in on a horse to sweep me away from my evil step-mother (okay, I grew up on Disney movies too). He isn't Mr. Brady. Yes, Mr. Brady had a lot of good qualities, but he is not the man I would marry. Hubs is hubs. I love him. I realize marriage and our relationship is an ongoing entity. It's not to be taken for granted and it definitely isn't something you put on autopilot.

Then there are the kids! Oh those kids! I love them to death. It isn't until you become a mother that you realize you are never the same person. I never would have imagined motherhood to be this way. You will never be the same well rested individual. There are so many things to worry about and so many things to treasure.

Growing up, I envisioned this wonderful, huge, 2 story house, backyard large enough for tea parties and BBQs, and a beautifully landscaped front yard to show off the Christmas decor (imagine National Lampoon). I guess Brady Bunch-esque.

The Brady house was large enough for 6 kids, Mr and Mrs Brady, Alice, and Tiger (let's not forget the dog). If I recall, Mr. Brady was an architect. I think Mrs. Brady was a stay-at-home mom.

Realty hits and the mortgage payment on such a Brady-like lifestyle is a pretty penny. It's probably closer to a pretty dollar here in Southern California.

I love my job (granted I do have those days where I leave work and thank the heavens the day is over). I spend many, many, many hours working. I'm grateful I have a job (it's rough times right now), yet alone, to have a job I enjoy doing. We are definitely a two income household. The more Hubs and I have to work, the less time we get to spend with the kids. (Duh, right?)

Hubs and I had one of those deep conversations about our life and our family. What did we truly want? We wanted to focus on what we felt was important and what we could do to obtain this. At the end of it all, we decided the Brady Bunch house wasn't worth it. It's a house, not a home. At least, not OUR home.

We wanted to spend time with our kids and to enjoy life. We wanted a location where we could provide the kids a strong sense of family and to surround them with those that share the same vision.

Now, the vision I once had in my 20s has been tweaked. The Brady house no longer exist. What does exist is the home Hubs and I are providing for our kids. A home where we can have small BBQs/parties that will provide wonderful memories. A home where we can hang some Christmas decor but will be filled with happiness on the inside. A home full of love where we can actually spend time in!

My 1st Pregnancy

As I write this blog, I can see my 3 year old playing quietly out of the corner of my eye. First of all, she never really plays quietly to herself. Second, I have a 3 year old!

Hubs and I have been married for almost 4 years when we started thinking about having a child. We had our little home and our careers going. On top of that, I was mid-way into my 29th year of life. We all know what comes after 29....the big 3-0.

I think, like most women, perhaps not all, the big 3-0 usually means something big. Honestly, I was just ready to start our family. Well sort of kind of ready. There was a piece of me that couldn't put the biological clock on snooze any longer. There was a piece of me that was nervous and uncertain.

In the back of my mind, I knew the freshness seal on my eggs was no longer a brand spanking new "Fresh" sign. It was starting to fade and the "Fresh" was becoming more of a "Fres". The "h" barely legible.

But, Hubs and I were ready to try. We just knew it was the right time for us.

About a month later, after making that life changing decision, my monthly visitor decided not to show up. I remember hurrying to the store to buy a pregnancy kit. I actually bought a few different ones. I was so excited to pee on that little stick. I read the instructions a few times. I laid the stick on the bathroom counter just right. I stared at that little window. I waited in anticipation as the double lines slowly appeared on one kit. One kit had a "+" sign. Yet another kit said, "Pregnant". I literally bought every type of kit possible. Just in case I couldn't read two lines, a plus sign or the word pregnant.

Yay, we were pregnant!!!!! I was sooooo excited!

I had one of those pregnancy books that would tell you what to expect at each month. I would read each monthly section as I would approach it. I made sure I didn't skip prematurely to the next month. Some of my books had little pictures of what my little peanut looked like. Each month, the picture changed into something less alien-like and more human-like.

With all that excitement, there was an equal amount of worry. So many things could go wrong. Chromosomes and cells had to split just right. A little bit of this and not too much of that had to be exact. You can't have any alcohol, increase your calcium, remember to take your prenatal vitamins, etc.

It's wonderful how a simple conversation.

Mama: What do you think about having kids?

Hubs: Sure.

Turned into the little girl that's playing quietly with her Legos! Amazing!!!!!

Having a Moment

Here I am at 11:30pm with another early start time at work tomorrow. Mind you I have not had a day off all week (Sun-Fri). Only day off this week is Saturday. I was even contemplating going in for a few hours in the later afternoon. Then Hubs brought me back to my senses and told me I shouldn't.

I was having a moment, just now. I was upstairs getting ready to call it a night. I was thinking back to an incident last week. I had to come downstairs and write about it. I wanted to remember this feeling for next time.

Rewind to last week:

A beautiful, sunny afternoon. I had the morning and early afternoon off until I had to go to work later. Hubs and I took the kids to our local neighborhood splash park. It's literally an area in the park with water squirting everywhere.

I've taken the kids there before. Each time, I had to restrict their water soaking activities because no one was dressed appropriately. You can get completely soaked.

That afternoon we were ready to get soaked. The kids were in the swim outfits and lathered in sunscreen. We packed a little snack for later. Hubs and I were in our swim outfits.

Mind you, my swim outfit for this particular afternoon consisted of long board shorts and a bikini top that could withstand moving every which way to keep up with the kids. I threw on a white shirt on top for the ride over.

We get there and Princess Ninja darts off. Chubs was hesitant. He was sticking to me like white on rice. There were a fair amount of people there. Kids were running around the water area. Parents were on the outskirts sitting and watching.

The kids that day were a mix crowd. Older elementary to toddlers. Of course, the older kids were running around splashing and having fun. I also noticed that the other parents weren't participating in the activities. A few parents would allow themselves a splash here and a splash there. None were allowing themselves the opportunity to splash to their full potential.

After noticing this, I turned to Hubs and told him no one else was wearing a swim suit. Not only this, but no other mom was wearing a swim outfit and joining in with their kids. Most adult supervision were sitting down and watching. Like I mentioned earlier, a few parents here and there would get their feet wet.

I could tell Chubs wanted to start having fun but not solo. Hubs told me to just go in with my white t-shirt and board shorts. Um, no, there will be no wet T-shirt contest at the neighborhood splash area.

Hubs eventually took off with his paparazzi camera and started capturing those precious moments on digital film. Princess Ninja was clear across the park and giggling away. I was left there holding Chubs, who was so patiently waiting to have fun.

Hesitantly, I took off my cover shirt. No, it was not done in that slow motion Baywatch type of action either. It was more like, hurry up before Chubs starts crying type of motion.

There I was in my neighborhood park appropriate swim attire. Yes, I was feeling a little self-conscious. Why was I the only wearing a swim suit and playing with my kids? It wasn't so much that I was playing with my kids that made me self-conscious, but I was wearing less than usual doing it.

Forward back to now:

I just looked at the pictures that Hubs took at the splash park that particular day. Princess Ninja had a smile bigger than Texas on her face. Chubs was full of curiosity and wonder. There I was in my mommy appropriate swim gear having fun with my kids....after letting go of being so self-conscious.

I feel guilty enough that I work so much. I always feel like I'm missing out on such a large portion of their lives. My kids are growing up so fast. It seems like it gets faster and faster with each passing year. There I was, about to miss out on a wonderful memory because of my own insecurities.

I'm promising myself to never let my own feelings of self-consciousness get in the way of being there for my kids. Life is too short to wonder when we should be doing.