Letters to My Past Self - Part 2

In 2013, I wrote letters to my past self, giving myself the advice I wish I'd been able to give myself when I was 16, 18, 20 (but certainly would have ignored). Mostly it was regarding boys, though some pertained to studying harder and making better financial choices . (Was getting a nose ring and losing your college tuition money from Mom and Dad worth it?) (Yes, kind of.)

I have some more things I'd like to tell past me.

Dear Lori (24),

Don't let anyone tell you to put that baby down more or stop being so obsessive over organic homemade baby food or that using cloth nappies is a waste of your time. This is your time to figure out motherhood on your own, and even though two babies later you will find that putting that baby down more will make life easier and that your baby will still be healthy and thrive if you feed her baby food from a jar* and that cloth nappies are fantastic for the environment and your wallet but holy hell they are a lot of smelly work and it's okay to sometimes reach for the disposable, right now you do exactly what you feel is right and be proud of each decision you make. I stand behind you and all first time mums in all your idealistic and ambitious plans. I'm proud of you.

Love,

Lori (34, mother of three)
*That is, when you don't have time to do baby led weaning, of course. I know you'd hate it if I didn't make that distinction.

******

Dear Lori (29),

Speaking of ambition, let's get one thing straight. You never stopped being ambitious. You never lost yourself. Your brain never turned to mush. You must not keep thinking this about yourself.

You left college with a fantastic job for a recent grad, and at the ripe young age of 22 you went through the entire process of immigration all on your own. You moved abroad. You managed to blag your way into another great job in a field you had no experience in. You kicked serious ass at that job (though your work ethic could probably have been a little better).  You were ambitious, and you knew it.

Then you got pregnant and decided with Scott to become a stay at home mum. And that's where your confidence began to shake.

You stayed out of the traditional workforce for nine years. You believed you had nothing to offer the world other than being a good mum. You believed you were only marginally smart. You stopped believing in yourself. You looked at your friends and saw them as successful, while viewing yourself as barely contributing to society.

STOP THAT.

Girl, let's look at it from my perspective now.

You left the traditional workforce to become the most kick ass mother you could possibly be. You researched every single mothering topic known to womankind. You made conscientious decisions about everything. You did things very differently from what was expected of you, but you did it with confidence, because you were informed and ambitious about mothering.

You were AMBITIOUS about mothering. If you were going to be a stay at home mum, you were going to be the best damn stay at home mum you could be. Ambition isn't just for the workplace. (Shout out to all the ambitious stay at home mums out there. I know for a fact how hard y'all work your asses off.)

Here's something else you may not be realizing.  You weren't just a stay at home mum. You were an entrepreneur, a fundraiser and an active volunteer in your community.

You started four businesses while you were "just a mum". One was successful enough to make a living off of (Wee Honey Bee Childminding), one was as successful as you intended it to be (IntoBento), one scraped by but at least kept breaking even and gave you a lot of joy (TinyTalk), and the one that didn't work (Lori Borealis), you had the sense to drop early.  Ambitious! 

You trained as a breastfeeding peer helper with a national breastfeeding charity. You and your fellow peer helpers started your own local charity and did some really awesome things, including designing a campaign that the NHS of Greater Glasgow and Clyde still uses. You girls started a texting support service for breastfeeding mothers. You had annual general meetings, because you were a real non-profit. You got real speakers in to talk at your AGMs, because you were a real non-profit. You had a non-profit status bank account, because you were a real non-profit. Stop minimizing what you're doing. You and your friends were AMAZING and AMBITIOUS. Mummy brain? Not you ladies. So stop putting yourself down and thinking what you are doing is "nothing special".  Stop thinking you aren't really contributing much to society other than being a pretty good mum. I'd like to retroactively send all of you women a medal of honor. (Honour, rather.)

Um, also, don't forget you wrote and published a book?

Basically, what I'm saying is, stop putting yourself down and thinking you've "lost yourself" and you have "no ambition" and you "aren't smart".  You have always been ambitious in everything you've ever done.  Your priorities changed (and rightly so), but your drive didn't.

And I only JUST realized this very recently myself, so no fault to you for not seeing it whilst in the thick of it.

Love,

Lori (34 and still ambitious)

******

Dear Lori (31),

Your life is about to change in every way. I think you know this. I mean, obviously you know you are leaving your home in Scotland to go back to your home in Arkansas. That's going to change your life drastically. (And I should really go ahead and prep you for this - you won't be moving to Fayetteville when you get there. Scott's going to find a job in Little Rock in a matter of weeks, and you're going to live in Nowheresville for two years. I think it's best I just tell you this now.)  But things are about to change so much more.  Who you are, who you've always seen yourself as, is about to do a complete 180.  You sense this, but you aren't ready to accept it.

You're about to lose your faith.

It's going to destroy you.

I'm not gonna lie about that.

But I swear to you, it's only temporary. That darkness you feel right now is only temporary. I know there's nothing I can say to lighten the load you carry on your shoulders right now. I know there's nothing that can soften the blows you feel every time you pray and hear nothing from God.  I know those tears are going to fall and that they have to fall. Like a mother watching her child go through her first heart break, I feel powerless for you, knowing that things are going to get better but that you can't see that right now. I know this is something you have to go through to get to the other side, but it hurts me to see it and remember it for you.  So I guess all I can say is do everything you can to keep your faith alive. Pray with all your strength. Speak to anyone you trust about this. Write about it, talk about it, paint about it, run and exercise about it.  Because you need to know later that you did everything you could to hold onto that faith, and if God couldn't do the rest, well then, that's that.

The pain of silence and abandonment will pass, and when they do, you will find joy again. Joy unspeakable. Joy in the world as it is, not as it's written to be. You will find strength in yourself you never knew you had even though it was yours all along. You will find love and trust and freedom in ways you never believed could be found in a life without a god. 

But for now, there's no sense in telling you this, because there is no way you can believe it. So just keep doing what you're doing, because you're doing everything right.

I'm sorry you're going through this. Your whole life has been one as a caterpillar, and now you are being torn apart and squished and reshaped and it hurts so incredibly bad. But just wait.

Love,
Lori (34 and you would never believe what I call myself now...)

*****

Dear Lori (32),

Don't be too bummed about the Scottish referendum.  In a couple of years, there will be this thing called "Brexit"...

Love,
Lori (34 with a Scotland tattoo)

Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail

I have nine days in a row off work. Nine! It's Spring Break, and it's my first real vacation from work, aside from random days here and there. I am determined to make the absolute MOST of it. Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail has begun!

It started on Friday after work last week. It was an exhausting day (week, actually, no month - wait, it's ALWAYS exhausting), and I was so relieved to get home and forget about work for a week.  (That didn't really happen. I was up all through the night that night thinking about things I hadn't satisfactorily tied up and stressing about them.) It being the start of Spring Break for the kids too, I promised them they could have friends over. So Friday night, we had two extra girls in the house. Scott worked late, so I had five kids on my own all night. But I refused to let that get me down! We ate frozen pizza for dinner, and I started the break off with a bang - and by bang, I mean cupcakes!

With Cadbury's Mini Eggs

I was told by my two extra children that I was the coolest mom ever. Yes, dears, that's because I haven't yelled at you to clean your room and threatened to take away your allowance.

The next morning, we exchanged those two girls for three different children.  We kept my friends' kids (8 year old and 2 year old) over night so they could have a proper date night and went ahead and also invited over another kid to stay. Why not? Six kids? I used to keep six kids at a time as a childminder. I can take this.

We ordered pizza (pizza two nights in a row, talk about "coolest mom ever") and rented The Good Dinosaur. And ate cupcakes, of course.

Oh, and we dyed everyone's hair. Spring Break gone wild! Whooo!

Sunday morning was Secular Sunday, which is really just our and one other atheist couple's version of once-a-month church. We make a big breakfast, let the kids run around together in their pajamas, and "fellowship". The only church aspect missing is the sermon and the singing. And the praying. And the getting dressed. Okay, it's nothing like church. Yesterday, breakfast ran into lunch, and it was just a super great morning. In the afternoon, I took two of my three kids shopping for Easter outfits. We don't go to church, so it's really just an excuse to buy sweet dresses for my girls and a little suit for my boy, to wear absolutely nowhere. Yay!

Today has been an errands and phone calls day, while Jaguar watches endless episodes of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood and the girls watch Minecraft videos on YouTube. I forgot how leisurely errands can be when you aren't doing them during your lunch break. It's 2pm, and I've spent the day getting the cars assessed, talking to the bank, taking a nap, shopping, and eating pretzels with cheese at Target. I'm considering taking another nap after this. Then I'm going to bake chocolate chip cookies from scratch. I might finish off the night with a dram of whisky and Netflix.

And y'all, it's only Monday! Whooo!

Operation: Kick Spring Break Tail is well on its way. May it never end, like Groundhog Day. 

May the Pi Be With You

I utterly failed today in my employment of mother and wife to my squad of mathy, sweet-toothed geeks. Yes it is Pi Day - and I did not make any pie. I did not make any Pi jokes either. I actually forgot it was Pi Day until about 40 minutes ago, long after my mini geeklings were in bed and my geek co-equal was lounging on the couch with a dram of Scotch and a TV show he discovered on Netflix.

With only an hour left of Pi Day to go, I cannot hope to simply skip into the kitchen and whip up something pi-alicious in time, thus saving my already fragile chance of being seated in the everlasting realm of Supermoms. My cape is already fraying, my ridiculously impractical stiletto boots are already scuffed. And here I am on this second most dorky of days (I will always have May the 4th to make up for this), half asleep on the recliner, watching Hamilton the musical clips while reading the code duello on Wikipedia, instead of creating delicious heavenly pi from hand peeled apples and organic raw cane sugar.

(One might be able to make the case that while I failed in the domesticity of Pi Day, I succeeded in being extraordinarily geeky in my own theater nerd right. I am not throwing away my shot.)

So since I can't offer you anything sweet with cartoon squiggles wafting from a hot handmade crust tonight, I leave you this. Happy Closer-To-the-Real-Pi-Day-Than-Last-Year's-Pi-Day(But-Still-Not-Actual-Pi-Day) Pi Day.

The Four Gift Rule

There's a meme going around about buying only four presents for your kids at Christmas: Something to wear, something to read, something they want and something they need.

My first response to this meme was, "Great. Another source of mompetition." I could imagine moms boasting about how little they spend on their kids at Christmas, how unmaterialistic their families are, how their kids don't EXPECT tons of presents like all the other spoiled brats in the Western Hemisphere.

I also recognized how this could be a great system for families on a budget or for families who genuinely and un-boastfully do practice simplicity and minimalism.

But it still annoyed me.

I even saw one comment that added to the mompetition wars that flaunted how incredibly goodly (and godly) she in particular is:  "We actually add one more category - something spiritual." I could practically hear the slot machine ding-ding-ding as she won that round of supermoming the rest of her opponents.

However.

After my initial annoyance, I started thinking about the basic concept of the meme, and I kind of have to admit - I didn't hate it. In a self-loathing kind of way, I actually sort of liked it. I started thinking a lot about it and dang it, it wasn't a bad idea at all.

And even more self-loathingly, I also didn't hate the concept, albeit fairly pretentious, of "something spiritual". In fact - as I control the gagging - I was a little inspired.

Ugh. I know.

But true.

Since losing all faith in a supreme being, I have definitely "shut down" any spirituality that might have been lurking. For me, religion and spirituality have always been all or nothing. As an evangelical Christian, I believed in One God, One Jesus, One Faith (One Baptism, etc). It was all or nothing. You either believe whole-heartedly that Jesus is the only way to salvation or you are lost. (Hellbound.) God isn't interested in lukewarm believers! He'd rather you be hot or cold.  (Revelation 3:16 - "So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth." ESV) Evangelicalism leaves no room for wishy-washy, fluffy-wuffy, when-it's-convenient faith. So when I went from being hot (a devout follower of Christ), I bypassed the lukewarm and went straight to cold. None of that "I'm spiritual but not religious" mumbo-jumbo could suffice for me.

You're either hot or cold. It's all or nothing. You're one or the other. That's how I was brought up. I became the other. The cold. The nothing.

And truth be told, I'm cool with that. ("Cold" with that, perhaps?) I don't really miss "spirituality". I don't really feel I need it. Right now anyway. I will concede that perhaps that may change in the future.  A belief in a god is unlikely, but a yearning for spirituality, I suppose is within the realm of possibility. Just not any time soon.

My friend Devon asked me about this. If instead of settling into a sort of "liberal" Christianity, one that perhaps doesn't believe in hell or who accepts gays, I retaliated against my faith and went as far to the other extreme as possible. In answer to that, yes. Probably. Christianity has always been all or nothing for me. If one takes the Scriptures literally, those two are the only options. To take Scripture non-literally seems to devalue and discredit the whole thing. (Where does the literal end and the metaphorical begin? At creation? At the virgin birth? At Christ's diety?)  Perhaps if I'd never been so hot about my faith, I might have settled for lukewarm. But that's not really a viable option. (And it hardly matters at this point when I have zero belief in any god anymore anyway.)

But back to Christmas presents. (I kind of chased after a rabbit there for a minute.)

While I personally do not feel a pressing need to reconnect with my spiritual side, that does not mean my kids should be deprived of it. Perhaps "something spiritual" isn't all that pretentious after all.

(No. It's still pretentious.)

The question then is, what is "spiritual"?

If you do a quick Google search for "spiritual", the first several pages gives you all kinds of Christian links. A search for "spiritual gifts", once you sort out the quizzes to find out if you are discerning or a peacemaker, brings up hundreds of Bible retailers, Precious Moments figurines, inspirational Bible verse calendars, Christian jewelry, and home decor crosses.

I just have a hard time understanding what decorative crosses and Precious Moments actually do to bolster one's spirituality.

Spirituality has been very much equated with Christianity in the West, and to buy someone a spiritual gift is basically synonymous with kitschy ornaments and wall hangings that have some sort of vague Biblical reference. Even when I was a Christian, I wanted to know exactly how a pack of Testamints was going to do anything to improve my life other than promise me fresher breath. (In fact, those sort of things deeply offended me, as they should any devout believer. Chocolate crosses at Easter? Seriously?!)

To me, spirituality is about connecting with ones deepest self or connecting with nature or the universe or even a supreme being. If I want to give my kids an opportunity to connect with their spirituality (whether I believe in such a thing or not), I need to first pinpoint what that even looks like.

Choosing something to wear, something to read, something they want and something they need is easy.  A new outfit, a new book (or several - I'm not committed to just four gifts), a glance at their letters to Santa, and new packs of underwear doesn't take a whole lot of contemplation. But something spiritual requires a lot more thought. A lot more introspection too.

What would I consider spiritual? Putting aside my own skepticism, I have to wonder what I think would allow them to connect with themselves or with nature or with the universe or with a supreme being.

Not being a super spiritual person now, that's hard.

But I can think of a few things that could open one up to spirituality.

Art (and the opportunity to create art)
Music (and the opportunity to create music)
Gardening
Nature walks and hikes
A telescope (for exploring the stars and planets)
Poetry
Meditation

Admittedly, packing "poetry" or "meditation" into a cardboard box and wrapping it in festive paper isn't really very practical. And trying to excite a six year old into spiritual rapture with a Mozart sonata or the works of John Donne would probably fail miserably.

But all children can start exploring spirituality with creation. Creating their own art, their own poetry, their own music, their own homegrown nature.

The tools for creation - paints, paper, an instrument - are things one can wrap up and put under the tree. These are a "something spiritual" that can be given to children as a holiday gift. And if choosing something that relates to a supreme being is important to you as well, encouraging your children to use these tools as a means of worship must be more spiritually satisfying to them than buying a white and pink Bible (that they are too young to read) or a gold cross necklace that is simply worn as an accessory.

I mean, if we're going to be so pretentious as to add a "something spiritual" to our list of Christmas presents, let's go all out then, shall we?

READERS: What do YOU consider spirituality to consist of, and what would a "something spiritual" look like under your Christmas tree?

5 Reasons I'm Still Supermom

GLOSSARY

SAHM: Stay-At-Home-Mum

WAHM: Work-At-Home-Mum

WOHM: Work-Outside-Home-Mum

I remember the days in the not so distant past when I was the kind of mummy who wore my babies in slings, breastfed beyond two years, practiced baby-led-weaning, and swore by co-sleeping and never CIO (crying it out). I was the kind of mummy who sat around with her friends drinking tea and talking about the best way to gently discipline without spanking, why attachment parenting is the best way to go, how to prepare the best home remedies for minor ailments, and where we could find fluoride-free toothpaste. I was the kind of mummy who did crafts with her kids, read them books before bedtime, made gorgeous bento box lunches to send with them to school, and took them on playdates to the park with other SAHMs and their kids for some good old fashioned Vitamin D.

I liked being that mummy. I admire that mummy. She was pretty all right.

Now I'm the kind of mummy who forgets to send back signed forms to the school, who runs out of clean uniforms before Friday because she hasn't done the laundry, and who packs pre-packaged food in disposable, non-environmentally friendly bags for lunch.  The mummy who lets them watch too much TV so she can catch a break and shouts way too much when they get unruly.

It's so easy to compare the SAHM me to the WOHM me and see the latter as inferior.  I idealize the former and remember her as certainly far more serene than she actually was, while criticizing the latter. Here's the deal: I need to give the current me some credit. I need to stop comparing and cut myself some slack.

So instead of dwelling on all the things I'm not doing so much anymore, it's time I look at the bright side of the new WOHM me.  Here are five things I am doing right as a mother:

1. I'm modeling feminist empowerment.
This in fact is what I've been doing all along. As a SAHM, I showed my kids that a woman can do whatever she believes is right for her life. I modeled positive feminist values by choosing to stay home with my kids, while my husband supported us, because it was what I (we) believed in.  As a WAHM later down the line, I showed my kids that a woman can start her own business and be creative in finding ways to make money and support her family. I showed them that a woman can both take care of household jobs and run a business and be fulfilled in all these activities. Now, as a WOHM, I am demonstrating that a woman can have a career and be a mother, that women can be as successful as men, and that if a woman wants to work outside the home, she should do so. A woman can do whatever is right for her at whatever stage of her life she is in.  Whether she is a SAHM, WAHM or WOHM, she can be successful and fulfilled in all she does.

(As a side note, Scott has also been modeling feminist values to our children by supporting and agreeing with my work choices all along the way. He shows our son how to respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy, while also showing our daughters how a man can and should respect a woman's capabilities and personal autonomy. My husband is a seriously awesome feminist.)

2. I'm not afraid to say I'm sorry.
When the kids act mean or rude, I expect them to apologize. When I act mean or rude, I apologize too. Often times my fuse can be short, and I react no better than a child. When I blow things out of proportion or throw a hissy fit, I am not afraid to say I'm sorry to my kids. I'm not perfect, and if my kids haven't already discovered this, they will soon enough. Teaching them to apologize by example is a life skill I am able to teach on a regular basis! It is not a sign of weakness for a parent to apologize to a child when the parent is in the wrong; it's a demonstration of maturity and humility.

(Side note. Scott is awesome about apologizing to the kids too. We also say we are sorry to each other in front of the kids anytime we have a fight. Apologies aren't just for children.)

3. I talk to them openly about social issues and current events.
We listen to NPR in the car nearly everywhere we go (and when it's not NPR, it's really good music, which is also something we're doing right), and our kids ask us often about the news they hear. We talk openly about the current events and social issues that are discussed. Whether it's a white police officer who shot a black man for no reason, a gay couple being refused a marriage license, the presidential debates, Syrian migrants, or religious freedom, we talk openly about it. We ask the kids to think these things through themselves and encourage them to come up with their own solutions and opinions. We do our best to make our kids aware of the larger world around them and to see themselves as activists who can make the world a better place. Between our three kids, we have a future President of the United States, a schoolteacher, and a Power Ranger. How more activist could they get?

4. I laugh with them.
All these "I I I"s should really be "We We We"s. Scott is 100% all of these things too. As a family, we make a point of being silly as often as possible. We're a bunch of sarcastic so-and-sos who tease the crap out of each other and play silly pranks on each other and make jokes about everything. Sometimes things have to be taken seriously, but we make a point of being lighthearted whenever we can. Life is short and laughter is free.

5. I read.
They say one of the best things you can do for a child's academic success is have books in the home. We are rebuilding our home library after selling everything, and we make it a priority to give the kids plenty of access to books for themselves. Besides just having books in the home, we aim to actively cultivate a love of reading in our kids. We may not have the same perfect routine we used to have of reading books every night before bed, but reading is still a huge part of our family life. My youngest loves being read to, my middle is discovering how exciting it is to sound out the words and read for herself, and my oldest is never further than arm's reach away from a novel twice the size of her. And besides just encouraging them to enjoy reading, I often have my nose in a book too. Without even trying, I am demonstrating a love for reading. I carry one (sometimes two) books with me everywhere I go, and I simply love to read. Actively instilling this in them as well as modeling it in myself is a parenting win. I may not cook organic meals, but I will read the crap out of some books then pass them on to a kid.


READERS:
What is something YOU are doing right in your life? When the easiest thing to do is see all the things you're doing wrong, take a minute to jot down some of the things you are doing right, and share them here!

The Importance of Being Human

It's been almost three months since I've been to the gym. After going religiously for a year and a half, I've really missed it.

Well, today after work, I tried out a new Zumba class at the gym down the road.  While it lacked the rowdy energy and ambiance of the Zumba classes at my old venue, it was still good.  Good enough, anyway. Good enough to consider just joining that gym, because it's close and cheap and open 24 hours and I need to find a place soon.  Tomorrow I might try out the Yoga class.

One of the things I miss most about working out is the feeling of control over my life. I used to feel guilty for needing control, but now I've come to accept that it's just my personality type. I'm a control freak. I need to have control over things. Is that such a bad thing? Yes, it can take over my life in a bad way, but in other ways, it keeps me calm, it keeps me going forward. Getting regular exercise feels good and keeps me level and grants me control over various aspects of my health, such as what I eat. I feel I make better choices over all when I've kept up my exercise routine. It clears my head.  It wakes me up. I love the way it feels, the burn, the sweat, the energy, the endorphin.

I don't think it's a bad thing to need a sense of control, as long as there is a little perspective. My problem is, I don't have much of that.

The problem I have with control is the feeling of disarray and confusion I feel when I don't have it. When things don't go as planned, when routines get interrupted, when I make a mistake, I tend to lose it. I'm not only a control freak, I'm a perfectionist.

And that's what I think I'm going to work on this October and this next year.  Imperfection.  Or rather, allowing a little imperfection. There's probably a better word for it, like Acceptance. Letting It Go. While I've stopped feeling guilty over needing control in my life, I also recognize I must find some Balance.  I seriously need to learn to relax a little and accept that things cannot always be perfect. I must find the things that grant me control - like exercise - but also let go of some things that are simply too much for me right now. I hate that my house is harder to keep clean now that I'm at work eight hours a day. I hate that I'm not the mum who can go on field trips and help at class parties anymore. I hate that dinner isn't on the table at 6:00 sharp every night now.  But I've got to learn to accept these things, I simply have to. I'm only one person; I'm only human. I try to be superlori, but I can't always achieve that. No one can. Perhaps it's the year for learning to Let It Go, for creating Balance, for finding Acceptance. What's that serenity prayer? "God grant me the serenity to change the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference." Seems about right.

Balance. I like that. We'll see what all comes out of October, but I'm thinking that will be the main theme of the upcoming year. Balance. It seems to fit. It's something I need to work on.

Oh, and speaking of October...

Cue segue:

ODP Day 2!

Talk about something that makes me feel in control! I love ODP. I love the challenge. Today was Casual Friday at work, so I couldn't pass up the chance to wear The Dress with jeans. I tucked The Dress in to a pair of straight leg jeans and folded up the sleeves to vary the length. I added one of my favorite infinity scarves and brown flats. I wore my hair down and natural (it's getting so long!) with a pearly headband. Which I'll admit, gave me a bit of a headache all day but was worth it for the cute factor.

One thing about this dress - I freaking love that it has pockets, but pockets make it difficult to tuck in and wear as a shirt. Still. Pockets are WORTH IT.

Another thing - since we moved, I can't find my camera. I'm sure it's somewhere in a box or something, but until I find it, I must rely on my phone for photography and my husband or children for photographers. Or I can just take camera selfies, like every other human being in the developed world. Selfie stick this year instead of a tripod?

(Just look at this. My hair is getting so long!)

Dinosaur Splash! Jaguar Turns Three-osaurus

I wish I could've had the time to write some beautiful, meaningful, heart-wrenching words regarding my youngest child turning three last weekend, but with my new job and trying to throw a birthday party with next to no planning, I just didn't have the time or the energy. I also just can't face it. If we were still in Scotland right now, this little boy would be starting Gaelic nursery next month. (Never mind the child is only just starting to speak English! Speech therapy has been awesome.) To think that this baby...

... is now this kid...

... is pretty much incomprehensible. Where did those years go? He has had one busy life in his eensy weensy three years. 

So last Saturday was his birthday, and we wanted to indulge his obsession with dinosaurs while also keeping the children from dying of July heat exhaustion, so we put on a Dinosaur Splash party for him.

My amazing friends Victoria and Brian lent us use of their incredibly awesome inflatable water slide, which seriously made the party. We had paddling pools too, but only the babies were interested in those. Everyone else went bonkers for the water slide.

We tried to make it as dinosaur themed as possible. Starting with the invitations I never sent out.

(These are actually purple, not blue. Jaguar was adamant that he was having a "puhple didor" party. It had to be PURPLE or else.)

We may have never sent the invites out, but we did at least manage to make him a purple dinosaur cake. Thank you, Pinterest!

Even the inside was purple. Jaguar freaking LOVED it.

I also made a few dirt cakes with plastic dinosaurs stomping about in them. The plastic dinosaurs may or may not have been food safe, but just shhh. We don't need to talk about that.

And I even went so far as to order a dinosaur piñata. Which of course the kids had enormous fun bashing to death. Sadly it wasn't puhple, but the Boy didn't notice.

(The best part about this piñata was how the candy flew out of it's mouth when you hit it. Even I sort of squealed the glee the first time a Tootsie roll projectile vomited out of its mouth.)

I found some cute dinosaur cups on Amazon too, which I filled with dino tattoos, stampers, candy, and more probably-not-food-safe-but-whatever mini dinosaurs. I didn't get a picture of these though, because I almost forgot to even hand them out. They never made it out of the house into the backyard, actually. I hope everyone took one home anyway. If you didn't, I still have a whole box of them in my kitchen.

Can you guess which was Jaguar's favorite?

So, despite lacking my usual over-preparedness, the party was still a smash - or shall I say a "splash"? Everyone had fun celebrating my little boyosaurus's third birthday.

Fifi apparently needed goggles.

So did Lolly.

Thanks to everyone who came over to celebrate Jaguar turning three and for making his dinosaur party a hit.  We love you!

A very happy birthday boy. He slept great that night
amongst a huge pile of new plastic dinosaurs.

Working Girl

So I have survived my first two weeks at BANPO (Big Anonymous Non-Profit Organization).  If I had tried to blog even four days ago, it would have been a disaster.

I have never been so stressed in my life.  The first full week was a hurricane of new information, new things to learn, new responsibilities, and new names and faces, and that didn't even include the slew of crazy emotions I felt from leaving my kids all day (and for the first time in Jaguar's life) and only seeing them for a couple of hours at night, during which time I was exhausted and grumpy.  I know it takes supposedly six months to really learn a new job, but I'm impatient. And I'm a perfectionist. Put the two together, throw me into a new job atmosphere, and you've got a pretty useful nuclear weapon.

My first day.

About midway through this week, I calmed down a little.  I took some work home, got myself organized (with Scott's enormous help - all hail Scott!), and took a lot of deep breaths and shed a lot of tears, and then... ahh.

When in job interviews the interviewer asks what your biggest weakness is, it's the running joke to say, "I'm a perfectionist." But y'all, the struggle is REAL.  I don't give myself any slack. I berate myself over every tiny mishap. I torment myself over every stupid or misinterpreted thing I say. I hate asking for help, because I believe I should know it all right away, immediately. And that kind of perfectionism and lack of self grace is actually pretty debilitating.

I'm feeling better about my job now, though. I do not under any circumstances have it all down, but I feel like there is going to be a point in the future someday, somewhere, when I probably will. I work with an amazing team who are all really supportive and great to work with.  It's a big adjustment, working full time after having been a stay-at-home-mum slash work-at-home-mum for the past eight years. I'm still trying to figure out how to prioritize my home time. I still have so many of the same responsibilities as well as hobbies that I did before but only a fraction of the time.  I have four baskets of laundry on the couch waiting to be folded and put away - and it's the weekend, so I'll be doing laundry again. I have complimentary copies of my book to mail out to various people but no time to get to the post office, plus I haven't had a chance at all to market my book, which is a little disappointing. I am still trying to get to the gym at least three times a week (which I managed the first week) but only got there once this week. It's mid-July, and I'm still trying to read the same book I started in mid-June. (Half of that is due to it being a long, dense book, of course.) And I miss my babies, and I miss my friends.

But.

I'm using my brain again. I'm becoming a stand-alone person again, not just a mummy. Even as I work in the same company as Scott, I don't feel like "Scott's wife". I'm my own me. My confidence is building, though ever so slowly. I am brushing back up on my skills. I am contributing financially to the family again, and not just in a small way like I did when I worked from home. We're going to get to take our family on vacations, maybe even back to Scotland again one day (for a visit). I get to eat lunch with my husband, which is like a mini-date every day. I get to dress nice, wear heels, and put on make-up. I get to meet tons of new people and network. There are a lot of benefits to working again.

I always knew I'd go back to work eventually, so even though it's hard (especially not having Jaguar around - I miss that boy!), I have no regrets. I am sad to see that lovely chapter of my life close, but the new chapter looks promising too. Maybe even exciting. It is the year of adventure, after all.

However, it's the weekend now and time to stop thinking about work.  I'm off to go read some more of my book before turning early into bed. My mom, aunt, and I have a garage sale in the morning, so it's early bells for me!

Next on the blog, I'll talk about my little baby boy turning three. THREE. He turned three last weekend. Sob!

June Is Bustin' Out All Over My Free Time

It's nearly the end of June. Kids are out of school. I'm facing one of the busiest summers of my life.

I'm a list maker, and with all that's been keeping me busy lately, there's no way I can catch up without just listing out what has kept me from my beloved blog.

VIOD Book Club

1. Kids are out of school. Need I say more?

2. I'm looking for a job. Yep, like a full-time 9-5 gig. Job hunting is probably one of the most stressful things I've done in a LOOOONG time.  Tailoring resumes to suit each job spec, writing countless cover letters, interviewing... it's hard work, and I'm not even getting paid for it yet!

3. Subject to said job, we are planning on moving this summer. Originally we hoped to be moving out of state (Seattle! We long for you!), but after really getting nowhere with the out-of-state job hunt, we decided we are staying here in Arkansas. Yep, you heard me right. Arkansas. Us. Staying. But we are NOT staying in Nowheresville... the plan is to move into The Big City (aka The Littlest Big City), where life's happenin'.  So I'm slowly packing up the house and impatiently waiting for all our ducks to get in their row, so we can conclude the house hunt.

4. I am finishing my book. Funny, I "finished" it back in March, but I'm still not "finished". In March, I finished writing it. But oh my word, I had no idea how much time, energy, and headaches would go into editing and self-publishing. But I am so near the end of the tunnel, I can practically touch the light.  I *really* hope to have it out on Amazon (paperback) and Kindle (ebook) by the end of June!

5. I'm trying to keep up with my exercise routine.  It's hard though, when each day is so full of kids and errands and responsibilities. But working out keeps me centered and in control, so it's important to me. I've actually started going to a few 5am classes just to fit that time in. But on nights where I've stayed up late doing other things, 5am just comes too early.

6. I'm trying to fit in as much summer fun as possible before I start working. That means play dates and swimming pools and parks and zoos and museums.  I want to enjoy these last few weeks of stay-at-home-mum-dom before they are over.  Before they go into daycare all day...

7. I'm looking for daycare.  For the time being, they will go to the daycare just down the street from me, but even that is wrought with uncertainty. Do I start them before knowing for sure if I'm going to get any of these jobs, or before knowing a start date?  Do I wait and take the chance of the spaces currently open getting filled?  When we move, will I be able to find a daycare in the new area with open spaces?  Do I have any aspirin in the house?

8. I'm volunteering for a charity.  Right now, I'm just doing some posters for them.  It's called Lucie's Place, and it's an organization that assists homeless LGBT young adults.  Soon they hope to actually open up a shelter, but for now they assist these young adults with writing resumes, finding jobs and housing, and how to budget. I'll be doing some of that mentoring stuff contingent upon moving into The Big City, contingent upon jobs, contingent upon blah blah blah.... But of all the busyness going on right now, this one is one of the more rewarding ones.  I'm happy to be doing something for someone else once again.

9. I'm planning Jaguar's 3rd birthday party.  Little Jaguar (can't call him Baby Jaguar anymore!) freaking loves dinosaurs, so I'm planning a dinosaur party. It's only a few weeks away, and I've barely done any planning - which is so not like me, especially when it comes to birthday parties - but I'm hoping my preliminary plans of a dino cake, dino pinata, and paddling pools will be enough to get the party started.  Dino invites might need to be next on the agenda. (And a guest list. And dino party favors should get ordered. And do I want to rent one of those big inflatable water slides or just get some cheap slip n' slides and baby pools? Hmm...)

10. I'm reading as many books as I can fit in before going back to work. Who knows what my time will look like soon?  Without a day time to do laundry, dishes, housework, errands, car maintenance, quality kid time, and Facebook browsing (ha), will I even have time to read in the evenings after work? And if I'm going to the gym at 5am, I'll have to go to bed early, so no late night reading time.

And on that note, I'm going to go read.  I recently listened to over half of Barack Obama's Dreams From My Father on audio book, but have since forgotten where I left off.  So now I've gone back and restarted the book the old fashioned way - by reading it.  I do miss hearing the President of the United States read out classic literary lines like "bitch-ass mother-fucker" though. It's just not the same in my own voice.  Obama says it all so much better.

The Last 48 Hours in 10 Minutes

Yesterday was my last day of the October Dress Project. No, don't check your calendar, you aren't confused and neither am I.  Yesterday was the 30th, but I decided that this year, I'd end a day early to allow me to wear my Halloween costume all day today.

I wore The Dress as a pullover vest over a white button-up shirt (the silver dragon one) and jeans. I needed to dress comfortably and casually to chaperone Lolly's class field trip to the pumpkin patch. I had considered joining in with the kids' Western Day theme at school, but I don't actually own anything Western. Not even a pair of cowboy boots. Certainly not a hat.

I thought the field trip started first thing in the morning, so I got Jaguar and myself all ready to go straight to the pumpkin patch after dropping Fifi off at school. It turned out they weren't leaving until 10, however, so I took the already dressed opportunity to go run some errands, eat some breakfast with my boy and cast my mid-term vote.

Since I had Jaguar with me, I wasn't allowed to ride on the bus with the kindergarteners but had to follow behind in my car.  I thought the field trip was to the local pumpkin patch, so this was no problem. I followed the buses onto the freeway - which seemed a bit strange, but I figured, hey buses! Maybe too big for back roads? (Which makes no sense since buses take kids home on back roads.)  I followed them out of town and then out of the county... and off the Memphis exit... I began to wonder where on earth we were going and if I'd somehow managed to accidently follow the wrong school buses. I was running out of gas too. I called the school, while keeping a very close eye on the buses, to find out where we were going, in case I ran out of gas and needed to hitchhike. 

We went to Motley's Pumpkin Patch, about an hour out of town. I did not run out of gas, because my new car does magic.  I got to meet all the little kids in Lolly's class that she's always talking about, and I learned that I will never, ever become a primary school teacher. Keeping track of that many five year olds was pretty much the reason I will have to dye my roots in just a few weeks. Jaguar loved playing with all the big kids, and Lolly, well, I'd like to say she loved having her mummy there, but actually, she barely noticed me. Some of the kids clung to their parent chaperones, but not Lolly. She's my little social butterfly!  She even made it pretty clear that I was totally crimping her style by trying to sit next to her at lunch time.  I couldn't have been prouder. 

After the field trip, I drove back home to wait for Fifi to come off the school bus and take her straight back out to her first swim meet.  She was swimming in two events- 25 yard freestyle and 25 yard backstroke. She did great, and I was really proud of her. My favorite part was when the 50 yard freestyle boys were on their blocks, preparing to jump in, and they made a call for the next event participants to get ready.  Fifi, being in the next event, went to the other side of the pool where the 25 yard swimmers began, and, true to oblivious Fifi form, she failed to notice she was the only one standing there, and when the whistle blew for the boys, she jumped in too and started swimming towards them!  I jumped out of the bleachers and ran to the pool shouting for her to get out.  She looked up, trying to understand what was going on, and then it clicked. She swam back to me as the boy was almost on top of her - and unaware of her - and I grabbed her arm, pulling her out just as the boy kicked the end of the pool and pushed back to finish his race. It was hilarious! But don't mention it to Fifi, she was pretty embarrassed, poor wee thing. And this blog will remind her of that moment forever and ever.

After the swim meet, we raced - ha - home to make dinner before Trunk or Treat at one of the local churches.  I chopped and fried a gazillion vegetables for the world's fastest cream of red pepper soup ever, leaving an ungodly mess behind me, and practically shoved it down all our throats, wanting to make it to the Trunk or Treat on time.  Which, to me, meant 7 or 7.30.  Unfortunately, for the church organizing the event, that would have meant 6 because it ended at 7.30. By the time I'd realized my mistake, it was 7.  Without even dressing Jaguar in a costume, Scott and I chucked the kids in the car and sped off to the event.  We got there in enough time for the kids to collect a decent amount of candy and play some games before the good times rolled up and turned out the lights.  The girls were upset they never got to do everything, but by this time, I was so tired and so cranky that I didn't give a flying flip what they were upset about.

And that was yesterday.

*****

Today started at 4am when my alarm reminded me that I was working the 5am shift at the community center. I actually really enjoy the 5am shift, but after my exhausting yesterday, it was a bit much.  I wore my Where's Waldo? - or to be more exact, Where's Wenda? costume.  I love working at that time, because it's quiet and fairly empty at the community center at that time of morning.  Only the pre-work crowd go that early and a few senior citizens.  And all those senior citizens thought I was dressed up for Christmas like a candy cane. Where's Waldo? must've been after their time, or maybe my costume was just really bad.  The rest of the staff arrived at 8am and my boss even let me take a wee bit of time off to go to the Cardio Dance Party class that I usually attend on Fridays, meaning I didn't actually miss EVERY costume workout this week.  I didn't last long though... dancing in a denim mini-skirt and brown flats isn't very comfortable nor is it very safe. I left the class early to preserve both my health and dignity and went back to work.

After work, I picked up my son from the "babysitters" (our friends to be mentioned later), and we grabbed 50 cent corndogs from Sonic on our way to pick up some things at Sam's Club and attend the carnival at the assisted living building my mom works at. Jaguar was a very loveable gorilla. We only stayed for 30 minutes though, because I had to be back home in time for kids coming off the school bus. Busy busy.

And when they got off the school bus, I instructed them to all be super quiet and let me take a nap or I really would be a scary Halloween sight in just a couple of hours.

Our friend Mike and Alice brought their two cherubs over for trick or treating around our neighborhood.  Little Mikey was a skunk and Grace was a bat (which I only figured out after looking at these pictures later).  Fifi was a dead ballerina again, and Lolly put together an amazing Powerpuff Girl costume all by herself. I just added the makeup.  Scott was the banana to Jaguar's gorilla, and I continued to wander around wondering Where's Wenda's sanity?

And finally, after hitting up all the houses in the neighborhood and filling each kids bucket with about eight pounds of tooth decay, we piled back in the car for our second annual Trick or Treat at the Grandparents' Houses.  Fifirst we hit up my dad for some (more) candy and then we hit up my mom.  

Then this happened.

And after all the exhaustion of the last 48 hours, when by all rights I should've come home and crashed out on the sofa, somehow something crazy hit me and I sat down to balance six months of Pampered Chef accounts that I've been putting off for, well, six months.  

I can sleep when I'm dead.