30 Things in 30 Days (#21: My Parents)

Day 21: Describe Your Relationship with Your Parents

Oy. This is the first word that comes to mind at this prompt. Oy, because... well, I have indescribable relationships with both of my parents - just in very different ways. But, again, I'm challenging myself to answer these 30 prompts in 30 days, so I'm going to soldier on and write about the two people who brought me into this world.

I am the daughter of the most amazing woman. My mother, as far back as I can remember, was my everything. My relationship with her has always been special. It's the relationship I think most moms and daughters want with each other: loving, kind, supportive, nurturing, open, trusting, friendly. . .

My mommy was my hero growing up, and she still is. I only wanted to be with Mom when I was a little girl, and sometimes, it's the only place I still want to be. She was a stay-at-home mom when I was very little. We had fun together doing silly things like dancing around to (Mickey) Mousercize and making up funny dances in the car, and she had the most creative "punishments" when we misbehaved - making us stand "nose-to-nose/toes-to-toes," until our disagreements ended in laughter, or making us wash windows - one of us on the inside, one on the outside - again, so we'd end up goofing off and forgetting why we were annoyed with each other. When I was four, at the same time she was battling breast cancer, my dad divorced my mom. I had no idea what Mom was going through physically or emotionally. How could I at that age? I was naturally oblivious while Mom was suffering. Some of that is age, but most of it is that Mom was so good at always protecting us and keeping a stable environment so we didn't feel the stress of it (at least I didn't... Brock being older may have a different perspective). Throughout my school age years, Mom was always there supporting us, even if she was bone-tired and trying to manage her own career and household. She helped with homework, prepared home-cooked meals (except for Thursdays; those were pizza nights!), bathed us, read with us, played with us, and my favorite, cuddled with us. Those were always my favorite nights - when Mom would stop all the busy-ness and just sit holding us. Oh, how I loved just the four of us cuddling on the couch together right before bedtime. But I digress... :) Mom was always easy to talk to. She listened to my poems and short stories I'd write, she listened to me complain about my teachers, she set rules and boundaries that protected us and our friends, and she didn't care whether we liked it or not. I don't really remember being embarrassed by my mom - I remember thinking she was pretty awesome. As an early teenager, I was disgusted by the things some of my junior high peers were doing, and I would choose to be home a lot of the time. She was my haven, my safe place, and apparently, she was to a lot of other people, too. Mom was so close with her students, and with our friends. Our friends would confide in mom or run to her when they had to take a break from their own parents, one of her students once spent the night at our house after losing her own mother, and my friends were able to goof off and be silly with my mom. And, as I got older, she's been my sounding board and best friend.

At this point in my life, I am well aware of how lucky I am to have this beautiful person in my life. It's not just that she beat cancer twice. It's not just that she handled being a single parent for most of my childhood with great grace. It's not just that she always knows just what to say or how to handle herself with style and poise. She truly is a remarkable friend. Our relationship keeps me going, keeps me strong and resilient. We talk almost daily - always have. We're there for each other any hour of any day.  I know I'm her "baby," and she will always try to protect me and nurture me the way a mother always does - but I love that she confides in me, that she trusts me, that she cares about my opinions or advice. It makes me feel like I am worthy of her friendship, that she accepts me, that this is a two-way street and we are equally important to each other. I am who I am, I am the mother I am, I am the friend I am because of her.

**

I am also the daughter of a father, a father who is puzzling and perplexing and mysterious sometimes. My relationship with my dad is more complex and difficult to describe publicly. The easiest place to start is at the beginning. My very first memory of him is not even really of him, it's of waiting for him. I remember staring at the back door to the garage, waiting for the knob to turn to signify that my daddy would be walking in through that door any second. It never did. It's a perfect analogy for how my relationship has been most of my life with him - always waiting for him. I love my dad - very much. I love him so much that it hurts. He was rarely around when I was a young child. He just worked a lot. He was building his medical practice, and he was on-call a lot, and he was working really hard. I know that, and I knew it then. I never felt like he didn't love me; he just wasn't there much of the time - at least not in my memories before my parents divorced. Once they divorced, my memory gets a lot more clear. We were with Dad every other weekend and on Wednesday nights for dinner only (didn't spend the night). I liked my time with dad (once I got used to being away from my mom), but even on his weekends, we always had babysitters: Lisa, Lisa's mom "Granny," Wendy, Carolyn, Angie. We were often left with these women while Dad had to go deliver a baby at the hospital. I don't remember minding much, except when movies would get interrupted and we'd have to leave the theater because some lady was in labor. I usually didn't mind sitting at the hospital waiting for Dad at the nurses station (I was usually smelling the Sharpies and Expo markers...ha!), and sometimes it was fun to "make rounds" with him.

The rules were different at Dad's house than at Mom's - and I kind of liked the perks of it as a kid: fast food all the time, staying up really late, watching cable TV (which Mom didn't get until I was grown), cussing, just being able to do whatever we wanted. Dad remarried when I was 8. Sally had two children from a previous marriage who were only 4 and 2 years older than I was. Dad and Sally had 3 children together a short time after they got married: Sage, Trey, and Kindle. I loved watching them grow up, and I loved being with them. They were so cute and fun, and there was never a dull moment - even if Dad was away or had to do paperwork all night. This time in my life was rather smooth, and we made a lot of fun memories during the 18 years that Dad and Sally were married: fun trips, a family cruise, lots of Thanksgivings and Christmases and Hanukkahs and birthdays and New Years', lots of letters sent to me at camp with pictures of the little kids getting so big, many long drives to Sunday School, lots of us trying to talk Dad into letting us skip Hebrew school, going up to his office playing on the typewriter, lots of time in the pool....

These years were pretty calm. Mom and Dad were always working together as best they could to organize and discuss things and events for us. Planning Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, figuring out when we'd get cars, planning college attendance - you know, all the stuff parents have to discuss as their kids get older. It wasn't always pleasant, but I took great pride in how my parents could always be in the same room with each other and keep the peace. They were friendly to each other most of those years. I remember Dad being there for Mom when Grandma died, and I remember watching them hold hands at Brock's Bar Mitzvah. They congratulated each other when Caden was born or when we graduated high school and college. They were always a team in my eyes, even if we weren't the nuclear family everyone else seemed to have. I never, ever considered myself from a "broken home" just because my parents were divorced.

But, years passed, and things happened. For the privacy of others, I will skip the details of their divorce, but Dad and Sally's marriage ended pretty dramatically. Right when Mom and Sally were actually getting be "friends" and things were so "normal" again, Dad left Sally. My relationship with him hasn't been the same since. I found out a lot of stuff that just shook me, and while Dad was trying to be honest about it all, he just kept digging newer, deeper holes. The events that happened in the years immediately after Dad's second divorce just kept bringing more and more drama. And, I've had talk after talk and family meeting after family meeting with him - and he just doesn't seem to "get" what his kids have always needed from him. We need him. . . not his money, not his excuses, not his apologies, not his gifts or approval or, above all, his conditions. The events and the comments and the explanations - they all start to run together for me, I'm not even sure what or how or where it all went so downhill, but it did.

At this point, my dad and I have a "casual" relationship. I literally just looked up the definition of "casual" to be sure that's the word I want here. It means "happening by chance; without definite or serious intention; careless or offhand; passing; seeming or tending to be indifferent to what is happening; apathetic; unconcerned; irregular; occasional." Yep, that fits. I don't want it this way. It's not how it should be, at least not in my mind. But, I just can't devote any more energy or attention to fixing it. I have tried and tried. I don't want to give up, but I'm kind of there. I'd love for my kids to know my dad better, to feel that he knows them. If that happens, I'd be thrilled, but I'm not holding my breath anymore. I'm not going to sit and wait any longer - waiting for that damn doorknob to turn telling me that "Daddy's finally home!" He ain't comin', and if he is, he ain't stayin'. I used to cry and get so hurt by this, but I've mourned it enough already. I will always love and care for my dad very much. I don't regret my decisions I've made, and I don't think there's anything I could do better or different. My siblings and I all deal with the events and emotions in the past 8-9 years differently, and we are all very supportive and empathic to whatever we each need to do in order to be healthy.

That's what my dad would want for me anyway: to be healthy. And I am. And I have both of my parents to thank for that. They were equally responsible for helping me become the person I am today, showing me how to act and how not to act, how to think and how not to think. I'm grateful that I had these two as parents growing up and that they are still here and a part of my life. They weren't a great pair, we see that clearly now. They didn't and don't always agree. But, they both love me so much, and I love them both more than they'll ever know.

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16, Day 17, Day 18, Day 19, Day 20

30 Things in 30 Days (#20: Memories)

Day 20: Describe 3 Significant Memories from Your Childhood

I honestly feel like I need days to think about which 3 memories to write about. How can you pick only 3? Especially when I have a really solid long-term memory. But, the more I've thought about it, I tuned in to what the idea is behind these topics - that my children will one day have insight into who I am. So I'm taking advantage of this prompt to tell them things that may go untold otherwise.

So, here's what I chose. (And I'm sure once I publish this, I'll think of others that I wish I had chosen...)

-When my parents told me about their divorce: I don't remember how old I was when the discussion took place. I know they separated when I was 3 and a half, and they officially divorced when I was 4. So, I'm thinking this was closer to 4, but I vividly remember my mom and dad asking all three of us (kids) to come to their room. We sat down, and they told us that they weren't going to be married anymore. I don't remember exactly what was said, but I was very much thinking, "When can I go play with my toys?" I don't at all remember feeling sad, and I didn't seem to care much. I don't think I understood that they were telling me something that would change my life forever. I had no idea what consequences this would have on my weekly schedule nor on how I viewed relationships/marriages/family for the rest of my life. I only remember being bored with the discussion and wondering how long I had to sit there before I was told I could go play again. Most people think it's so sad that I was so young when my parents divorced. Honestly, I barely remember them being married at all. I vaguely remember my dad living at our house, but mostly, it's always been this way. So, in some ways, I'm glad I wasn't like Bernice in Hope Floats as she screams for her daddy to come back or like Sydney in Parenthood having an emotional breakdown as she finds out about her parents separating. But, I 100% identify with their pain and the yearning for their families to stay together and under one roof.

-When I started my period. I know, why would my kids ever want to know this? Ha! Well, I figure MAYBE - just maybe - I'll have a daughter, and maybe she'd want to know this, so I'll tell it now. And, my sons, well, they can pass it on to their kids! :) I was 11 (almost 12), and it was Father's Day weekend. I was at my mom's house during that summer day, and Brock had a friend over. I went to the bathroom, and I saw the slightest little smidge of something different when I wiped. I immediately went to get my mom thinking, "What the heck is that!?!" I had to whisper to her, because I was so embarrassed that Brock's friend might find out. When I took her to the bathroom with me, she said, "You started your period!!" and then she slapped me. :) Yep! Some weird family/Jewish/weird tradition where women slap you when you start your period. I've been told it's to get the blood to your cheeks rather than.... well, anyway, she slapped me. And, that night, I was at my dad's house for the weekend. As I went upstairs after saying goodnight, my OB/GYN dad stopped me and said, "Do you want to talk about anything? Do you have any questions?" Great dad moment; horrible, awkward, embarrassing daughter moment. At 11, I wanted to say NOTHING to him about this! "No, thanks," I said, and I calmly turned around and kept climbing those steps, wanting desperately to just get the hell to my room! And with that, I'll stop embarrassing my kids for even bringing this story up at all!

-When my Grandma died. Technically, I was not a "child" when my Grandma passed away. I was 23 years old then. But, Grandma was a huge part of my childhood, so this loss was huge, and it's one I recall vividly. I can still hear my Grandma's voice, and I can see her perfectly in my mind. She was an amazing lady, and I'm so fortunate to have a million memories with her - baking together, going bra shopping together, her picking me up from school with snacks (much healthier than the ones my Grandpa would bring), calling to check on me when I was sick, asking if I was okay after the emotional goodbye to a character on General Hospital, taking me to see Pretty Woman at the age of 9 (having no idea it was about a prostitute), singing next to me at Passover seder, asking me to give her back rubs, playing dress-up with her shoes in her closet, having her tuck me in at night when I'd spend the night at her house, her weather reports and updates, making fun of her crooked arthritic fingers or the way she said "Missoura" instead of "Missouri," laughing all night when we couldn't find the Alamo during our San Antonio trip, and hearing her voice on the other end of the line "Hi, Baby, it's Grandma." Oh, how I miss those calls. Her death is perhaps the only moment in my life that I describe as both scary and beautiful at the same time. She was not doing well in the hospital, and we knew she was not going to make it. My mom, aunt, and uncle knew Grandma wanted to be home. So, the day after Christmas, they made arrangements to have her transported home for a final goodbye. Once home, the family gathered and waited through the night to spend one last night with her. I remember doing "girly" things with her - putting lotion on her, brushing her hair, massaging her arms. We told her things we wanted her to know, even though she was not responding. The next day, on December 27th, we stood around Grandma's bed. My whole family (minus my cousin who lives out of town and couldn't make it home in time) stood gathered in a circle around her. Mom, Aunt Jacque, and Uncle Barry were on her bed with her. Then, the machine (respirator?) was turned off. We watched and waited, and as we held hands and cried and leaned on each other, we heard Grandma's breaths get farther and farther apart. Aunt Jacque started humming to her. Grandma seemed to be making humming noises, and I just remember the beauty and serenity of the lullabies Aunt Jacque was almost echoing back to her mother. Mom and Uncle Barry were talking to her and whispering in her ear. I was trying to hold it together. I wanted to hold my own mother as she watched her mother fading. It was peaceful, it was calm - but it was beyond frightening for me to lose her and see it and feel it. Yet, I am so grateful that I was there - to be there for her, I know she knew we were all there with her. It was the most beautiful thing. To be there as her soul moved from here to wherever it goes next.... and it was in this moment that I believed there just has to be a God. Grandma died the day before her 79th birthday, a Saturday, Shabbat. I remember the rabbi talking about how she died on a day that brought the most closure to a beautiful circle of life. She had completed a year, completed the week, and died on the sabbath. There was meaning in that for me. And, he talked about how we were all there with her - that it represented what a beautiful life she had. Every time I think about my Grandma's death, I tear up - and it's hard for me to even talk about it without getting too emotional. I love that Grandma was in her own house, in her own room. She was surrounded by the people who loved her most, and she had her possessions and pictures nearby. If life must end, I think we should all be so lucky to have this kind of beautiful ending.

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16, Day 17, Day 18, Day 19

30 Things in 30 Days (#19: Becoming a Parent)

Day 19: How Did You Feel the Moment You Became a Parent?

The answer to this question greatly depends on when you consider that parenthood began. Personally, I think it's when you see a positive pregnancy test (or in some cases know your adoption is going through). From that moment on, you know you have created life. You are solely responsible for taking care of yourself in order to care for this little one. And, no matter what happens, you already love this baby. For others, they may believe parenthood begins the moment you meet your baby. So, I'll give my reactions to both:

The moment I got my first positive pregnancy test, I just stared at the test, smiled, and got back in bed (it was very early in the morning on a Saturday) holding the stick in my hand and taking it all in - that I had a baby growing inside my body. It was surreal. It was hard to believe. I wanted to take several more tests to be sure; I was scared to trust just this little stick on such a big deal. I was excited - barely able to keep it all in through the entire day until I could tell Sam after the TX/OU football game that afternoon. I couldn't wait to share the news with our families and friends. I felt like I was on top of the world!

The moment I saw Banner's face, my first thought was something along the lines of, "Oh my God! THAT'S my baby?" He was bluish-grey in color because he was in a bit of distress before birth. He was wrinkly, scrunched up, his mouth was huge and screaming a fairly weak cry (at first). I was squeezing Sam's hand, and I was worried that the baby wasn't making enough noise. "Breathe! Cry! Cry, baby! He needs to be louder, Sam!" I kept saying. Finally, there was a loud cry, and I could relax a little bit. It hurt my neck to look to see the baby, and my eyes were wanting to close so badly. While I remember it well, it all happened so fast and was surreal and foggy - like each moment jumped to the next. I was disappointed in how my birth experience went, but I was so relieved that my baby was okay. Later that day, I just wanted to sleep - but I had this baby that needed to eat! I remember thinking, "Okay, Baby. You go to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning," and then realizing that's not how this arrangement works. :)  I KNEW these things, but the submersion in it and the realization of how fast it comes and hits is a different story. You just can't prepare for this kind of life change no matter how much you know already. For the next couple weeks, I remember thinking, "Wait. So, this is my life now? I won't be sleeping in like... ever! There are no weekends off or holidays when I get a break. This is it! And, he'll be here forever - like 5 years from now, we'll be doing the same thing, and 10 years, and 15 years..." It was daunting at the time. But now, at a more rested, less hormonal place in my life, I can say I PRAY he'll be here forever - God-willing, he'll be here forever!

I loved Banner right away, but the things I felt at that time were overwhelming. I'm not one of those moms who felt "on a high" right away. That took time. And, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed by that anymore. I admit fully that I had a bit of "the baby blues." I still wish I could go back and redo that experience and be in a better emotional place - for myself, but more importantly for Banner. I owed him better. I wasn't a bad mom - I just wish I could go back and do it over better. It makes me sad that I can't. I learned the biggest lesson in looking back, though - and it's to try my best to just be with him. I want to live my life as his mom without regret. I know it may not be possible, and in some ways, it's inevitable that I'll screw it up the first time around with him, my firstborn. I also learned that what Banner really needs, and what I really need, is to just be his biggest fan. After the first couple weeks (okay, maybe month or 2!), I started realizing that my job as his parent isn't to complain about my lack of sleep or anxiety level or inability to leave the house in a timely manner - it was to be one of two people who love him more than any person on the planet. Nothing else mattered. And, since I got that through my thick skull, it's been a different story.  The first weeks of parenting were not sunshine and rainbows. I wish they had been. But, I know better now, and I advocate for moms who don't see the sunshine and rainbows right away. And, I've learned that the best way to get to them faster is to be honest and open. So I am.

Other feelings I had that day: I couldn't wait to introduce Banner to our family. I was so excited to let them hear his name for the first time then. I LOVED holding him. I did NOT like trying to feed him since it was not working for either of us. But, my favorite time with him was just having him skin-to-skin on my chest (we called this "baby crack"). I loved propping him up on my pillow and just staring at him, watching his slow newborn movements. He was strong, and he was smart - I knew it right from the start. And, he still very much is! When I look at my big boy now, I can still see glimpses of my 6 pound 13 ounce sweet newborn, and that makes me happy because I miss that itty-bitty baby who made me "Mommy!"

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16, Day 17, Day 18

30 Things in 30 Days (#18: Spouse Loves)

Day 18: What Do You Think Your Spouse Loves Most About You?

I'd really, really like to ask Sam the answer to this question before I answer it myself, but I'll play along and answer it on my own... and THEN I'll ask him the real answer. If anything, maybe it will start a great conversation between us about the things we love about each other. So often, we talk about our children and what we love so much about them. Those conversations go on and on - and leave us feeling so enamored with our children even more, and perhaps we're a little giddy afterward. It can't hurt to focus on us every once in a while.

So, if I had to guess, I'm pretty sure my boobs would be Sam's favorite thing about me. But, surely he could muster up a better response than that. . . maybe. I think he thinks I'm a great mom. He's told me before that if he had married someone else, he'd be more worried about his kids. He knows I always have their best interests at heart, and he trusts that I'm always making the best decisions I (at least think I) can for them and for us. But, even more than that, I think he'd say that he loves what a good friend I am to him. I think he'd tell you I was his soul mate - that we complete each others' sentences, that we know what the other is thinking, that we (usually) bring out the best in each other, that we deeply care for each other. And, then, as I rolled my eyes, he'd tell you again about my rack. :)

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15, Day 16, Day 17

30 Things in 30 Days (#17: Wish Great At)

Day 17: What is the Thing You Most Wish You Were Great At?

Oh, how I wish I were great at so many things! To pick only one, now this is a challenge. I've given this a lot of thought. I thought about picking something deep and profound like "letting it go" and not having so much stress. But, let's be realistic here. . . I'm always going to stress. And, a little bit of healthy stress is a good thing. It motivates me and keeps me grounded. So, I'm going to pick something that tells you a little bit more about me and my thoughts!

While I could easily pick (and debated on again and again!) cooking or cleaning or exercising or saving money or watching what I eat or unpacking - or any of my other "challenges," I decided to switch it up. I wish I were really great at visualizing. My sister and my mom are really good at this! Mom has a vision for my house all the time - knowing how to make better use of my space by knocking out walls or painting the room a certain color to bring in more light. I wish I could imagine what a certain paint color would look like. I wish I could have a vision in mind to redecorate or think outside the box like a home contractor can. I feel horrible when someone asks me my opinion about what I think of a certain item (curtains, blinds, hair cut, paint color, bedding, etc...) will look like in their room or on them. I'm just so bad at this. I have to see the whole thing put together to decide. When my best friend was building her home, I was floored by how many decisions she had to make - from the hardware on the cabinets and drawers to the light fixtures. How can you know what will look good until it's up and mounted?

And Kira, well, she's great at all of this. She's especially amazing at putting together a clothing ensemble to be truly awesome. I wish I knew what went well together and how to coordinate a really great look. It's one reason I stick to fairly plain colors and don't take chances on a new trend or style. I just don't know how to coordinate! I will often ask Kira to come with me when buying new clothes (speaking of, I SO need some!). I feel so lost without her guidance, and without her, I will usually either buy the same old stuff or look to the mannequins for inspiration - trying to find what the employees have coordinated on the fake person. It's one of the reasons I hate shopping. Grocery shopping is really the only kind I don't loathe. But, if Kira's with me, then I feel more confident that we won't be there forever without any luck of finding a good, confidence-building selection!

30 Things in 30 Days (#16: Accomplishments)

Day 16: What are Your Five Greatest Accomplishments?

1. Motherhood. This one takes the cake for sure. Everything else is second to being a mom. Being pregnant and maintaining a pregnancy twice has been the greatest thing I've ever done - both for myself and for my kids. I was a nervous wreck while pregnant, but I loved almost everything about it. I used to wonder, with everything that could go wrong, how any of us survived being in the womb and how we all made it out alive. I would remind myself that more of us actually make it out without complications than don't, but it's still so daunting. This miracle of life that I got to help with - I just can't believe I did it, and that I did it twice. And, every moment after my boys were born, I've kept them alive, I've kept them thriving. It's a huge undertaking, and not one part of it is easy - except loving them so much. Man, I love my babies, and both Banner and Quinn are the best things I've EVER, EVER done!

And, in no particular order:

2. Getting my Masters: I started off my graduate program not knowing whether I wanted to be a teacher or a psychologist. I, honestly, only went to grad school because I had just finished college and was still in "student" mode, my dad was willing to pay for it, and it couldn't hurt to apply and see what happened. While interviewing for grad programs the fall and spring before finishing college, I was also interviewing for teaching positions back home. I just didn't know what I wanted for sure. When I got accepted to the Ph.D. program at the current college I went to, I was ecstatic. Less change, I knew the school, it was a great program, and I was one of only 12 doctoral candidate students admitted that year. My decision was made. BUT, a year into the program, I decided I was really missing the school system, and I was not interested in any of the counseling psychology internships for the following year. After much contemplation and meetings with my graduate advisor, I switched to the school counseling M.Ed. program (and, luckily, most of my credits from my first year in the Ph.D. program counted toward the masters degree). It was a hard decision. My dad once said that getting into the Ph.D. program was the hardest part of the program (I would beg to argue that writing and defending a dissertation at the end was leaps and bounds more difficult, and I think my Ph.D. friends would agree, but I digress...), and he was puzzled as to why I would give this up. I just wasn't loving what I was doing - and I was really missing my days as a student teacher. I was so proud of myself for making this change and following my heart. And, I don't at all regret it. I went on to finish my program and learn SO much about what I really wanted to do.

3. Career: Related to the above... I got a job teaching and later counseling in the same elementary school I went to when I was younger. I loved being a part of the same community I grew up in, and I felt like I was really making an impact - both in my own classroom and in the building as a whole. It was such an accomplishment for me to have people coming to me for advice, guidance, help, support, answers. And, as each group of seniors graduates and comes back to visit for their senior breakfast, I am there, and I love seeing the young men and women that "my" kids have become! I feel like maybe they'll remember me, but more importantly, I know they'll remember things I taught them.

4. Buying my house: When I was 26, I bought my first house. I think that's pretty cool. Since then, the house has been a home for me, my sister, my brother-in-law, my husband, and my kids - luckily, not all at the same time! ;) It's also been the place of many gatherings, including my sister-in-law's wedding, a place for grieving after my mother-in-law passed away, birthday parties, graduation parties, and other events. The porch has been adorned with Halloween decorations, been the backdrop of Banner's first-day-of-school pictures, and has welcomed many guests. The garage opened up to welcome my two babies home on each of their fourth days. The yard has seen its fair share of play dates, games, splash parties, and "construction sites." I love that this home is truly that for me, and for so many others. And, I love the memories we are creating. Although I can't wait to move into a larger, roomier house, it will be so hard to move from this little haven.

5. "Raising" for a Cure: When my mom had just finished her treatments for her second round with breast cancer, my sister and I created and led a team in her honor for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in our area. We helped design t-shirts for our team called Saving Second Base; we invited friends and family from around the U.S. to walk with us and/or donate to the team, and we raised over $10,000! That was 4 and a half years ago, and each year, we have continued to raise over $2,000 at least. This cause is important to my family, to my mom, to me. And, even if we don't raise money each year, I feel a sense of accomplishment just being there to support so many people who have beat this nasty disease. It's my mom's accomplishment to have beaten cancer - twice! But, it's always my greatest privilege to get to watch her stand amongst her peers as a fellow survivor. And if any of the money we raise each year helps save another person's life, then I think we're doing a damn good thing!

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 14, Day 15

30 Things in 30 Days (#15: Spouse..again)

Day 15: Describe When You Knew Your Spouse Was "The One" or How We Fell In Love

Day 15. Half-way through this 30 Day challenge. . . And, since I pretty much already wrote about this topic back here, I'm going to take a break today! :) 

30 Things in 30 Days (#14: Strengths/Weaknesses)

Day 14: Describe 5 Strengths and 5 Weaknesses You Have

Strengths: I'm going to "toot my own horn" to stick to the prompt, but I have to say that stating my strengths is not one of them! Like many people, I tend to focus on my areas where I can improve. But, I like this question; it gives me a chance to model (for my kids who I hope will read this one day) how to look for the positive and be proud of abilities.

• Patience: While it doesn't always feel like it on the inside, I am pretty good with at least appearing calm and having patience. My former coworkers used to always comment on my ability to maintain composure at times of highest stress - whether it was working with a difficult student, dealing with irate parents, tackling testing conflicts, or any other crazy situation that would arise. In dealing with my own children, I definitely have a limit that is pushed more than ever, but I feel that, at least outwardly, I can maintain my patience. 
• Time Management: I get things done, and I multi-task fairly well. Having children, especially two now, has taught me how to manage my own time and schedule to get the most done in the shortest amount of time. Planning and scheduling are very helpful for me. I like structure, and I'm not a procrastinator. I don't like to waste others' time or put something on them last minute, so I plan in advance as much as I can. And, I try not to take on more than I can handle. I've been planning Banner's June birthday party since March, and I've already started getting the wheels turning for Quinn's September party. Camp Mommy calendars for this summer are already in progress, too. Nerdy? Sure. But, it works for me. Even day to day - it's about managing time to be as productive as possible.
• Memory: I have a great long-term memory. In fact, Sam calls me "The Memory" since it's not uncommon for me to remember something that other people can't.
• Writing: I like to write. It's my outlet, my therapy. While I'm not perfect at it, grammar is my forte. Poor grammar would have been my 11th pet peeve. I've gotten better at making up stories with Banner, I've been asked to proofread term papers, proposals, and college entrance essays, and one day, I'll write a children's book. 
• Following Through: If I say I'm going to do something or be somewhere, you can depend on it. In the rare case that I can't, it's valid. 

Weaknesses Challenges: I don't like saying these are "weaknesses," because they can always be changed into strengths with a little nurturing. I may not necessarily be unable to do them, but they "challenge" me. So, these are my challenges these days:

• Listening: Normally, this is a strength. But, this has definitely become a challenge in the past couple years when I have an infant or a toddler running around/fussing/demanding my attention. I notice that I'm struggling with this more and more. When my kids are not with me, I'm much better, obviously, but I had to list this because it's something I know I need to work on. I'm extremely ADHD-feeling when my children are around - just trying to maintain their safety, tend to their needs, answer questions, etc. Having a conversation with anyone can be a challenge.
• Cleaning: I've given up trying to keep up with my house. I've surrendered to the fact that while my children are young, I will have a messy house. With a baby who puts everything in his mouth, I am aware of what is around him, and I definitely want to keep things "clean." But, clutter will remain. You would never be able to tell how much I do try to clean up; my efforts are constantly thwarted by a rambunctious almost-3-year-old! who uses a variety of toys in various rooms throughout the day. Most days, I just can't keep up. But, honestly, I would much rather spend my energy playing with them than getting all worked up over the mess. 
• Masking my feelings: I think this may also have it's perks and be a strength since we really shouldn't hide our emotions. BUT, with young kids, it's hard for me to pretend I don't feel a certain way to try to shield/protect them from anxiety. Last week, Sam went on a quick business trip. I just did NOT want him to go. I was fearful, I had this awful feeling, and I cried when he left. Even the night before, I just felt nauseous and removed Quinn from his lap so I could sit in it and just cry with my face hidden in Sam's neck. Or, there was the time my cell phone was stolen at a store, and I had to not panic or freak out in front of Banner. And, a couple times, when Banner starts asking me about his Bubbie, I wanted to cry for missing her and wanting him to know her, but I don't want to upset or scare him. When something is very much on my mind, I'm distracted by it, and as a mom, the challenge of being brave or showing that we are confident or not burdening the kids with something scary can be difficult. I'm usually such an open book, but when it comes to the kids, I know I need to work on delivering information/news or being in the moment and not ruminating about something that is irrelevant to them. As they get a little older, I will be more forthcoming about my own feelings - because I want them to know it's normal and acceptable to have whatever feelings they have.
• Letting it Go: I'm a worrier. As my mom told me the other day, "The first step is acknowledging it!" She told me that when I told her I was worried that Quinn isn't eating his finger foods well (Cheerios, Puffs). He just spits them out after nearly gagging on them. Jokingly - but with a hint of seriousness - I said, "What if he won't eat? What if he needs a feeding tube?" Okay, the kid is 7-months old - he'll be fine. I know. But, I don't like not being in control, not being able to know the answers. And, if you have read my blog for a while, you already know that about me! 
• Saying No: It's like the shortest word - but I can't say it well to others who ask something of me. I recently told my sister-in-law "No!" very quickly when she asked if I was interested in training for races with her. That was easy - I hate running. I only do it when someone's chasing me (or I'm chasing Banner!). :) But, I was proud of myself for being able to say it. I reflect often on a statement that one of Oprah's guests once taught her to say: "That doesn't work for me." What a classic line. 

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13

30 Things in 30 Day (#13: Growing Up)

Day 13: What's the Hardest Part of Growing Up?

Oh, man, another hard question. So many answers to give here - since growing up is SO hard in and of itself. I think it's really hard to narrow it down to the one hardest thing, so I'll list a few in no particular order:

• Finding yourself. What I mean by this is figuring out who you really are - and not being terribly influenced by everyone around you. Learning to stand up for yourself, learning to separate from your family and friends to be your own person, learning what really motivates you, finding your own interests and skills and beliefs. Mostly, it's about being true to yourself, trusting that you are enough on your own. You don't need the approval of others or to fit right in. It takes time to learn that just being exactly who you are is the best version of yourself, and if you are who you are, you will always win.
• Accepting reality of all the scary things. To quote Dakota Fanning's character, Ray, in Uptown Girls, "It's a harsh world." She's right. And, it sucks to learn this. It's so hard to learn that you're not as safe as you thought, that you're not going to live forever, that people get hurt and die, that terrorism exists, that anything can happen to any of us at any time. It's still hard for me to take this in and not freak out, especially now that I have children. You have to keep fears and anxieties at bay, but it can be a scary world to live in - and it's hard to accept it without ruminating on it.
• Paying bills and being solely responsible for your well-being. This one is pretty self-explanatory. But, just to elaborate a little: once you leave your parents home, you are the only one who is going to look out for you (your health, the contents of your fridge and pantry, your bank statements). I always look back at my youth and wish I had appreciated the lazy days of not worrying about things like this - when now, I constantly feel like we've got this juggling act going on. Whether it's needing to tend to the lawn or remembering the last time we cleaned out the gutters, there's always something. Each day, each night, each weekend can be easily filled with "to-do's" that really aren't that fun: paying bills, filing taxes, grocery shopping, reorganizing the kids' clothes, making that doctor appointment, getting a haircut... it goes on and on. Oh, how I wish someone would still do all these things for me. (Gotta give a huge shout-out to my mom for always being that person when I was little - and sometimes still doing them to this day!)
• Losing loved ones. We have to learn to let go of so many things we had when we were younger, but the hardest will always be letting go of a person we dearly love. My Papa died when I was 8 years old, then my uncle when I had just turned 10, my cousin at 13, my Granny at 17, my Grandma at 23, my mother-in-law at 31, and my Grandpa right before my 32nd birthday. It never gets easier. The inevitable truth is that as we grow up, we will lose more loved ones. It scares me.  It's easy to take people for granted, but remembering that every day is a gift and that it won't always be like this is imperative. As I get older, I definitely get more existential, especially because time starts to go by faster, years pass more quickly, and I feel it all slipping away too soon. 

Life is truly amazing, but growing up sure can suck sometimes!

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11, Day 12

30 Things in 30 Days (#12: Typical Day)

Day 12: Describe a Typical Day in Your Life

Every day is different around here, but for the most part, I guess this is what it looks like:

Around 5:30-6:00 we hear Quinn playing in his crib. He usually goes back to sleep within about 20 minutes or so. Then, Banner comes in our room any time between 6:00 and 7:00. We usually pull him into our bed to rest more (normally he just pops up every few minutes asking if it's morning yet and not resting at all!). Then, at 7:00, if Quinn is still sleeping, Banner is allowed to play on our phones watching YouTube videos about ice cream trucks, fire trucks, trains, or whatever else he's interested in these days or playing games. When Quinn starts to get fussy, one of us gets up to feed him (usually around 7:15-7:30). We typically feed him in our bed - so the whole fam is just hanging out in our bed - and then Sam gets ready for work.

If it's a school day for Banner, then I will get him fed, dressed, teeth brushed, hair combed, and lunch made while Sam gets ready for work. By 8:40, they leave for the day. If it's not a school day, then we get to just hang out and play. Either way, Quinn goes to down for his first nap around 9:00ish. Assuming I'm not already dressed and ready (because some days I am the one to take Banner to school), then I get ready while Quinn sleeps. Once he wakes up, anywhere from 9:45-10:30, he gets a bottle and some solids before we venture out for errands or play dates or fun activities or to Grandma's.

On school days, we have to get Banner around 12:45, so I've been trying to keep Quinn up til about 1:00. This is a challenge if we are in the car. It's awesomely helpful if he can nap at my mom's while I go get Banner on my own. If it's not a school day, Banner eats lunch around noon. He naps around 1:30, and I wake him by 3:15 if he's gone to bed on time. He could sleep until 4:00 if I let him, but then he has a horrible time going to sleep at night.

Quinn generally sleeps until 2:15-2:30, and when he gets up, he gets his third bottle. During the (usually short) time I have to myself while the boys are napping, I blog, plan, make dinner, clean up, shower, do laundry, watch General Hospital, or talk on the phone. If I'm lucky, I can do more than one of those!

Once the boys are up, we usually just play more - or start dinner or go on quick errands, and then Quinn eats his own little dinner around 5:00. Usually Sam gets home around 5:40 unless Banner has swim lessons, then he comes home earlier to be with Quinn. We eat dinner at 6:00ish. Quinn usually gets fussy around 6:15, but I try to hold him off until 6:30 for his bath so I can eat a little something. Sam usually holds Quinn during this time, eating dinner with one hand. :(

Then, the nightly routine begins: I give Quinn his bath, bottle and bed, while Sam starts to clean up from dinner and Banner plays. Then, they play a little bit or watch TV together while I finish with Quinn, usually around 7:00.  Around 7:10, Banner starts bath, we get him ready for bed, and we trade off who reads him three books. Then, we both lay with him for a few minutes, one of us tells a story, and then he says goodnight to one of us. The other tells Banner about his day, and that parent stays with him for a few minutes before leaving his room. Banner likes for us to sit just outside his bedroom door (against the wall, so he can't even see us, but we do it anyway!). After a few quiet minutes, that parent joins the "free" parent on the couch to finally catch up about each others' day. Usually, we watch a show, or I blog, or Sam works, or we just talk. Then, I try to head to bed around 10:30ish. . . usually failing miserably at meeting this curfew. Depending on how much work Sam has, he heads to bed when I do or way later. And, then, we hope (pray/beg/bargain) that everyone sleeps through the night and well past at least 6:30... and  do it all over again the following day!

*Past posts in this series can be found here: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8, Day 9, Day 10, Day 11