Mommy Is From Mars, Daddy is From....Somewhere Else!

Disclaimer: I'm having a bit of deja vu here, because I feel like I've used this line before, but y'all...I really do love and adore my husband. He reads all of these blogs before I publish them. He is my editor-in-chief, purchaser of my cheap wine, warmer of my cold feet, my best friend and my babies daddy. I wouldn't write anything that I knew would harm him, belittle him, or anything he couldn't take (because he can dish it out just as well). With that behind us....

Do you married people ever just get in a married people funk? I'm not talking about a fight, just a funk. It's kind of like when you're a kid and you spend a lot of time with one friend, so much so that they start to get on your nerves? Marriage is a lot like that at times...or at least my marriage is.

We were in one of those funks this past weekend. We weren't fighting, but we just weren't on the same page by any definition of the phrase. This got me thinking about how different we really are. I think anyone would agree that men and women, in general, are very different creatures. This also applies, in my humble opinion, to mommies and daddies. A few examples...

• A mommy gets about 2 minutes alone in the bathroom each day. The other times she is accompanied by a 2 year-old asking inappropriate anatomy questions.  A daddy can spend a full 45 minutes alone in the bathroom on a Saturday (and a Sunday) morning doing Lord knows what. He is able to completely ignore the chaos happening mere steps from the door.

• A daddy can use words like "vented soffit" in conversation. He knows how to build a PVC frame for a photo booth. He knows what "PVC" stands for. He knows things about dirt and plants. A mommy needs a daddy to tell her that the Washington Redskins are located in Washington, D.C. and not, as it turns out, the state of Washington. 

• A mommy understands the importance of a family photo. She knows that it will be difficult, but she plans it anyway. She doesn't plan it around naps or sporting events like, for instance, the Wolfpack football schedule. A daddy doesn't understand the importance of a family photo. In fact, he would just rather never have his picture taken, ever. Unless it's a photo taken when his family is all wearing red, watching the Wolfpack play football.

• A daddy appreciates history. He appreciates it so much that he spends what little t.v. time he gets watching shows devoted to learning more about history. He loves making random comments about said history, seemingly with the desire to teach his wife about history. A mommy understands that the 30 minutes she might get of t.v. time each day should be spent watching something mindless and trashy. A mommy also doesn't know what to do with herself with those 30 minutes, so instead of watching the entire show, she {SPOILER ALERT}'s it with her trusty pal, Google.

Next to being a mother, being a wife is probably the most challenging title I've ever held. But it's also the most rewarding. I wouldn't be a mommy to Emma and Adley if I wasn't first a wife to Bradley. Sometimes I focus so much on everything that we don't get right, I miss out on the times that we get it exactly right. 

• A daddy knows that the way to a mommy's heart is by saying "absolutely" when she asks to go on a Girl's Night Out.

• A mommy knows that she doesn't need the Halloween candy, but if she brings it in the bedroom, the daddy will indulge with her, thus making her feel less guilty.

• A daddy knows when the mommy is exhausted. He tells her to skip her coffee and take a nap with the baby. Sometimes she listens.

• A mommy realizes that if the daddy didn't work so hard, she couldn't love on her little girls all day, every day. Sometimes she stops to take time to express that appreciation.

...and sometimes, just like that, the daddy reminds the mommy exactly why she married him in the first place. 💜

"Here's to love and LAUGHTER, and happily ever after."

TWO

In preparation for this post, I started reading quotes about parenthood. There are so many out there. Most of them are those feel good, children-are-the-world types of quotes. A few examples...

"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about."

"Your children become who you are, so be who you want them to be."

and my personal favorite...

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body."

You feel good now, don't you? Told ya so. Today wasn't one of those "feel good" mommy days for me (and if I'm honest, neither was yesterday), so I looked up "funny quotes about parenthood" instead. For your reading pleasure...

"If parenthood came with a GPS, it would mostly just say: RECALCULATING."

"I used to have functioning brain cells, but I traded them in for children."

And this gem...

"Turns out, I'm the mom most likely to teach the neighborhood kids how to swear."

If you care enough to read this, then you know that we recently added a baby to our family.  While we were waiting for Adley to arrive, we got lots of (mostly unsolicited) information about how families handled having more than one child.  There is the camp that believes going from zero to one child is the hardest. Then there are those that believe going from one child to two children is the most difficult.  Lastly, there are those folks who claim that any children after #2 are a piece of cake. Lunatics. 

Emma meeting Adley at the hospital was about the most precious thing I've ever witnessed. I just knew that this was going to be amazing, having two children. We were going to rock being #girlparents. They were going to be the best of friends. Emma was going to be such a big helper while Adley is small and needs lots of attention. And better yet, Emma would be so understanding of that as well, because two year olds are totally rational. 

I feel certain that the good nurses at the hospital were passing out a lot more than just Ibuprofen. We came home and, for a few weeks, life was bliss. Bradley stayed home for several days until we were both ready for him to go back to work. Emma was at preschool in the mornings. She'd nap when she came home and then we had the afternoons to play. Bradley came home at a reasonable time and cooked dinner (thank you, Hello Fresh).  Life was good. We were navigating life as a family of four with grace and ease. 

I can't tell you the exact moment when the proverbial (and lots of times literal, because babies) s#*t hit the fan, but it hit hard. Sometime between late May-early July, we entered into a time that we thought we'd avoided. Calling this phase of child development the "Terrible Two's" is generous. Each new day brought with it a fresh form of hell that we had no idea how to deal with. Temper tantrums, meltdowns, hissy fits, whining that she's hungry but refusing to eat, the list could go on and on and on. Around this same time, we thought it best to start potty training this feral child. Oh, and "monsters" entered her world, and apparently EVERY room in our home.

Bradley likes to tell people that, most days, he comes home to find me in a standoff with a miniature version of myself. It's a battle of wills that she usually wins. My husband is exactly right. This girl is me up one side and down the other. Well played, karma. We battle every day, but I am learning to choose those battles wisely. 

Bradley told me the other day that he knows how Bill Murray's character felt in the movie Groundhog Day. Parenting is kind of like that. Wake, feed, play, thank Jesus for nap time, keep children alive, attempt to cook dinner (see survival technique in photo below and proceed to call CPS), feed, bathe, survive until bedtime, sleep. Repeat.

Old-ish people like to tell new-ish parents that time goes by so quickly; that we will miss these days when they are older. They are probably right. I know, eye roll, middle finger, etc., etc., etc. If you're like me,  the mere utterance of that word, "TWO," sets you on edge. Whether it be the age of your toddler or the number of children reeking havoc on your home, two, it seems, is a blessing and a curse. Consider these few thoughts...

TWO: the number of times a week someone will ask you if you're going to have another baby.
    Rumor has it, this thing is still MY UTERUS. I'll let you good folks know if and when it decides to change the sign to "vacancy."

TWO: the amount of hours, per night, of sleep that you will get. This is an average. Here's hoping yours is higher.

TWO: The number of week nights you will send your husband this text: "Bring wine or die."

TWO: The number of pairs of braces, cars, college educations  and ridiculous weddings you'll have to pay for.

TWO: The number of times per day that you text your mother a photo asking, "Is this normal?" Also, the number of times you search Google to reassure yourself that, yes, that thing you were about to do or feed them WILL give them cancer/brain damage/etc.

And after you've considered all of that, remember this...

TWO: The precious hours before waking and after bedtime that you get to just be "Mandy" instead of "mama."

TWO: The number of times she asks you to sing "Purple Jesus" at night while she hums along and wraps those perfect little arms around you.

TWO: The kisses you get from your husband each day. One to say "I'm cheering for you today. You've got this." And the last to say, "You did good, babe. Thank you."

TWO: The opportunities you forget to thank God for all of it. The chaos, the mess, the love, the life you have.

and...

TWO: The number of times you'd do it all over again, if given the chance, because it really does go by so fast.

My sweet mommy friends: savor it, soak it all in, and for Heaven's sake, tell someone when it's hard, because that is how we teach each other how to be better. And when it's just too much, too hard, and the days are too long, remind yourself that someday, not too far down the road, you'll have two (or one, or more) real, live human beings walking around out there in the big, wide world, thankful that you are their mama.



~Proverbs 31:30~

Sister

For my precious girl

My dearest Emma,

     You're only two, but I know that you've noticed Mommy crying a lot lately. I know this because you always take my face in your sweet little hands and say "You okay, Mommy?" Lately, I've been telling you that I am crying because I am so happy.   It's true. I am so happy, but I am a little sad too, which I think is "normal" and okay, but I want you to know why.

     In a few days, you're going to become a Big Sister. I know that you won't remember that day or anything about it. You won't remember coming to the hospital, seeing your sister for the first time or holding and kissing her.  You won't remember the absolute joy that will be radiating from me and from Daddy.  It's okay that you won't remember. We'll tell you all about it many, many times.

Up until now, it's been me and you. I tell your daddy all the time that you're my "little bestie." We do everything together. We have gotten in a groove and routine and it works perfectly for us. You go to school a few days, then we have the afternoons to play. On the days you stay home we get to do whatever we want. It's the best life, getting to be with you everyday and watch you learn and grow.  

In a few days, our routine is going to change quite a bit. It won't be like that forever, but it will be different for a while.  This is the part that makes mommy a little sad. There will be times that we can't just go do whatever we want and times that we can't spend as much time together as before.  I know that you won't remember life before your sister arrived, but I will, and I'm going to miss it a little. However, I cannot wait for the day that you, me and your sister can explore and adventure together every day.

These past two years with you have been the best time of my life. I need you to know that.  I need you to know that I know why God picked you to be my girl, and for me to be your mama.  Every time I look at you I notice how much you look like your daddy, but when I watch you play and laugh and just live life, I see so much of myself. God knew that I needed a little girl who had her daddy's go-with-the-flow attitude but just enough of her mama's stubbornness and independence to make her an individual.  That's you kiddo. And you're the most perfect thing that I've ever laid eyes on.

As our lives are changing with the arrival of your little sister, I want you to remember that you are the one who made me a mama.  You have helped me learn patience that I never thought I possessed. You have helped me learn who I am and what I was put on Earth to do. You have helped me become better...a better wife, a better daughter, just better. Most importantly, you have taught me to love deeper than I ever dreamed of.

I will never forget these two years that we've had together, just the two of us. I will cherish them for the rest of my life.  Words can't describe how excited I am to watch you become a big sister. I know that you are going to be amazing at this new job of yours. I can't wait for all the fun that we're going to have together...just the three of us, and Daddy, when we let him join in.

You will always, always be my baby girl. Nothing will ever change that. My prayer for you, as you enter this time of transition, is that you and your sister will have a bond that is unshakeable. I pray that the two of you will be the best of friends. I pray that the two of you will never forget how important the other is to you. I pray that you will both always know that out of everything that Daddy and I have done, the two of you stand far and above as the proudest and best things.

Thank you for being my girl and for letting me be your mama.

I love you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

~Mommy

Going Through The "BIG D" (By Way of Dallas)

"And I made a vow that day 

That I'd spend the rest of my life

Loving my Jesus,

Showing my scars;

Telling my story of how mercy

can reach you wherever you are."

~Casting Crowns

I have this best friend. She and I are so alike, and yet so very different. I have been encouraging her to write her stories. I have told her how healing it can be to put pen to paper. She, on the other hand, has recently encouraged me to shut up. She reminded me that listening is different than hearing. I had listened to this song before, but this morning I actually heard it. That's the inspiration for this little blog.  I'm sharing my scars. This scar has long been healed, but I felt a burden on my heart to share my story, just in case someone out there needed to actually hear it.

I graduated college in 2006 (yes, that's the 5 year plan if you're doing the math).  I had my degree. I had a job. I had a boyfriend that I'd been dating for a while. Check. Check. Check. 

About a year into my career we got engaged. I planned a huge wedding. We got married and lived happily ever after. Check. Check. Nope.

Like most driven women at the know-it-all age of 25, I felt the need to check boxes off. Like a to-do list for my life, I needed to do the things that society expected of me. Graduate college. Get a job. Get married. I thought check marks next to list items equated to happiness.

The thing is, I wasn't happy. The shimmer and shine of that fairy tale wedding quickly faded into a life that was not the perfect marriage that I had imagined, prayed for even. We were two people thrust into something neither of us were ready for, and, if we're being honest, neither of us really wanted to work for. 

We barely made it to the 2 year mark when it was clearly time to throw in the towel.  Now I found myself nearing 30 and going through a divorce.  The aftermath was exactly what you'd expect. I went through all of the stages of grief. 

1. Denial - This wasn't happening to me. How could this happen to me? I checked all the boxes. I'd done everything right.

2. Anger - Why didn't he work harder? Why didn't we love each other anymore? Did we really ever love each other at all?

3. Bargaining - God, please don't do this to me. I'll try harder. I'll change. 

4. Depression - No one will ever love me again. I am used. I am unloveable. I am not capable of having a real relationship. I am going to be alone forever.  My life is over.

5. Acceptance - It's not so bad being alone. I would rather be by myself than in an unhappy marriage. 

I would be lying if I told you life after divorce was roses. It wasn't. There were days when I had to drag myself out of bed and go to work. I had to force a smile, because kindergarteners didn't understand that I wasn't in the mood to be happy that day. I had to be cheery all day and then go home and feel completely sorry for myself. The thing was, I didn't feel sorry that my marriage was over; I felt sorry that I had failed. I felt sorry that I couldn't make him love me. I felt sorry that I felt sorry.

I had to reach the very bottom of "rock bottom." I can't tell you the moment when that happened, but it happened. One day I woke up and I wasn't sad anymore. One day I woke up and I didn't feel sorry for myself. One day I woke up and it didn't hurt. That day I thought would never come...it came.

This blog is not intended to be a self-help excerpt. It's not to discourage people from getting married young. It's not to bash my ex-husband. This blog is about mercy.  

At one point, after my divorce, I came to the realization that, no matter who it was that I'd married, I would have never been happy. I expected my happiness to be a direct result of the things he did. When that didn't happen, I was let down and sad. So I started to see life differently.

Everyday I woke up, went to work, and was surrounded by sweet little smiling faces who were eager to hug me, love me and learn from me. Mercy

I was surrounded by family, friends and coworkers who were a force of prayer and a source of comfort for me. Mercy

I was prayerful and God was responsive. I talked. He listened. I reconnected. I realized. I healed. Mercy

I allowed myself to fall apart, but God didn't allow me to fall to pieces. I allowed myself to feel all the hard things, but God reminded me of the good. I allowed myself to hurt, but God allowed me to heal. Mercy

I allowed myself to feel like a failure at love, but in the end, I learned to love myself. I loved the person I was. I loved the me I'd always been. I loved that God didn't want me to change for anyone but Him. Mercy

I have since found out things about my first marriage that would have broken me. After all this, nearly 2 years later, I met Bradley. Discovering things then stung a little, but they didn't break me. Mercy

If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't. I wouldn't willingly put myself in a marriage that was doomed to fail. But I don't have it to do all over again, and thank God for that. Mercy

I have a husband who has been through a divorce as well. I don't have to be ashamed of that word with Bradley. We talked about it freely when we first started dating. We needed to talk about it. It was part of our healing and moving forward together. We made a pact a long time ago never to compare each other to the ones who came before. We never have. There is just no comparison. Mercy

So now that I've shown my scars, I hope the right person sees them. I hope that you'll find healing in whatever it is that is burdening you.