Every year, I am heartbroken when another baby, toddler or child perishes because a parent has forgotten them in the car. I do not judge these deaths. I just morn them.
As I mourn the death of my favorite singer, I am reminded of the full circle of life. The importance of dealing with death and our children earnestly.
Last month, O and I lost a special lady in our life. She was a part of my life story for nearly 20 years. Her warmth and honesty will be missed. Yesterday, O attended her funeral with me. She’s attended funerals before, but this time was probably the first time she had questions about death. Continue reading
I wasn’t sure I’d ever write about my rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis because I didn’t want anyone to think I felt sorry for myself. But I do feel sorry for myself but not because I have this disease. No, it’s because it’s changed my parenting and not in a good way.
Over half a year ago, the symptoms presented themselves with a vengeance. It started with me not being about to lift my arms high enough to put on my clothing. I had to do some major contortion to get my arms in shirts. I dismissed the sign. I’d had stiff shoulders before. I chalked it up to getting older and not exercising. Eventually the pain subsided and I left it at that.
A couple of days later, my right wrist became inflamed and the symptoms were consistent with carpal tunnel. That’s fine. I work at a desk every day. But then my left wrist went and I could even carry a purse. I proceeded to wrap both wrist is wrist wraps and worked this way for several weeks. I finally went to the doctor.
My doctor is a lovely woman. She’s hard and honest, but mostly she listens. She quietly touched my small joints and larger joints. I hardly felt her touch. She looked at me and said, “Your entire body is inflamed.” She prescribed prednisone and ordered several tests. She called me a few weeks later and declares shed figured out what was wrong with me.
Hearing you have RA feels sort of like a gut punch. One of my best friends was diagnosed in our twenties and I remembered some of her bad days. She never complained but I knew she was in pain often. I didn’t really want to join the pain club. So I spiraled into a depressive state. It wasn’t pretty. I was angry.
Fast-forward to today. Today, I’m mentally better but it’s changed how I parent. Some days touching hurts. Four year olds still touch a lot. My O is no exception. She touches, leans and climbs all over me. She can’t help herself. I’m her mom. I work 40 hours a week. The few precious moments together are as important to her as they are to me.
But it’s in those moments of closeness the pain often trumps her need to be close. I’ve tried a million times to explain that mommy hurts. She doesn’t understand. Why should she? Mommy has always been up for a cuddle. But I have to ask her repeatedly to stop and when she doesn’t I get testy like an irrational toddler.
Even worse, it’s slowed me down. Anyone who knows me would tell you I’m hyper, always moving. I love to sing and dance. I used to love to just keep going but there are times I am too stiff to move. I am burdened by the pain and I sometimes give in. It makes me less likely to enjoy activities that require activity. It’s not the mom I want to be.
I don’t want to tell my daughter that I hurt and am too tired for an impromptu dance party. Or that going to the park is last thing I want to do. I don’t want to put up my guard when she’s playing around and desiring affection. It’s heartbreaking.
Maybe if I had been a younger mom, this wouldn’t be my experience. But now, I must parent through the pain. Make an effort to not get upset with her because I can’t manage my pain. It’s a new journey in our lives and I won’t let RA win and rob me of the closeness my daughter and I desire.
I met this lovely young man 6 weeks ago. We struck up a conversation. The conversation turned into daily text messages. And finally to us meeting so he could come take a look, under the hood of my car. (He’s a mechanic, bonus.)
Last night, I told my mother about him and the fact he was coming over to visit tonight. She hung her head and shook it. I didn’t understand what was wrong. I mean, I know I don’t know his social security number or have three references, but he seems like a sane and decent guy.
So I tucked my daughter in and decided the opportunity to talk to my mom was there. So I asked her what was up. She told me that it really concerned her that he was Muslim. I had already grilled the poor fella because I agreed with my mother’s assessment earlier that I needed to know more about him. I found his responses satisfactory. So I didn’t understand why his being Muslim was such a problem.
So she brought the Bible into the conversation, telling me that we would be unequally yoked. And I said that I wasn’t sure how I felt about that or even if I felt like we were. Not that I am arguing the point of the Bible, but the last long term relationships I’ve had have been with Christians of a different stripe than my own, but they were disastrous at best. I feel that his faith may be different, but his beliefs were much the same as my own.
Then when I was so resolute about my decision to still see him and have him visit, she talked to me about having him meet O. I explained to her that he wasn’t coming over for us to have a make out session. He was coming over to do what we’d have been doing outside the house for the last couple of months, chatting. Yes, chatting folks. There’s been no kissing. Just hugs and a lot of conversation. I appreciate it. He seems to have a real interest in getting to know me.
But of course my mom warned me about bringing men in and out of my daughter’s life. Then I had to explain my parenting philosophy and dating strategy. I would not bring a lot of men around my daughter. Which, I thought she’d have known since I’ve had plenty of dates with plenty of men in the last 4 years and only one has met my daughter. That was only because we were in the area and I need to drop something off to him. More a happenstance than a planned meeting.
I was allowing this man to meet my daughter because we have become friends. Despite the fact we are exploring the possibility of a relationship, our visits are strictly friendly. He’s aware of this.
So despite my mother’s reservations, I’ve decided to press forward, carefully. We’ll see where this leads.
I’ve was trying to figure out what I am doing with Mr. Perfect on Paper. He has everything any gal could want, but I can’t seem to connect with him. And perhaps neither can he with me, but for whatever reason we refused to give up what little connection we have.
Let’s step back a year. I met him on Match overa year ago, but things never lead to a date. A year later, he found me on POF and he contacted me again. It resulted in us having a date 3 days after reconnecting.
I was a little hurt and confused by the fact he acted as though he didn’t remember me from Match; not that I asked him if he remembered me. But I threw caution to the wind and went out with him because I thought I was so into him. Our text conversations flowed like butter across hot biscuits. There was no way , in my mind, this couldn’t turn out to be a meaningful connection.
Our date was a little unconventional, we met at his place for take out and sat around to chat a while. And the conversation flowed, but I was exhausted and suggested we watch a documentary. The documentary touched on subjects that conincided with our fields of work. We were able to share knowledge. What could be better? Right?
Wrong, I don’t know why, but I left there feeling off. He had spent much of the night commenting on what I was wearing. I felt like he was sizing me up to see if I could live up to his executive lifestyle. And with all the commenting, I felt less like a date and more like a slab of beef in a display case waiting to get picked.
Despite feeling like this, I agreed to see him again. It was a short visit. We talked and hung out, but I wasn’t feeling it anymore. He promised we’d catch up after the holidays. I probably should have said that’s ok, don’t think it’s necessary, but I didn’t. I mean, I really thought maybe things would eventually fall into place.
I was baffled by my lack of feeling for him. He was gainfully, well employed. He had the same love of fashion that I did. He was incredibly good looking. Yet somehow, I didn’t like him enough. Sadly, it has been a relief that he and I both stopped texting. We ghosted each other. And while I am never a fan of not saying goodbye, this time, I will make an exception.
It’s time for a birthday! Your kid’s birthday! Take a deep breath momma! It’s going to be okay!
I could have driven myself crazy this past weekend with nervous energy about having just the right mix of things for my daughter’s fourth birthday party.
I spent hours contemplating that centerpiece on the right. I found the base at the local Goodwill and added fairy flower lights that I found on Amazon.I used even more brain power on the placement of every butterfly on the twinkling lights for the support post in our living room. And I did all of this to only get one comment on the decor.
Create a simple a menu. For example, we had two choices of sandwiches. Peanut butter and jelly or honey and cheese. Instead of chips, we popped popcorn in a large pot on the stove. (Nothing tastes as good as popcorn popped in a little vegetable oil.) Add a bit of cut up fruit, juice and milk. And you’ve got a nutritious but filling, toddler friendly meal.
For a bit of entertainment for the parents and kiddos alike, I created a photo booth! Photo booths are all the rage. And here’s what you need to make a budget friendly photo booth:
- Wall Space
- Plastic rectangle tablecloth
- 1 Happy Birthday Banner
These items can be found at your local dollar store. So for $3 you have an instant back drop for silly, zany pictures for the preschool set.
After the princess party mayhem, I find myself chuckling because I realized that I did it all the contemplating, stressing and decorating for myself. The real hit of the party was the kids being together and enjoying each other’s company. Younger kids just want to play. So a playground with sandwiches or a house party with toys is just as good as the local “jumper” playground.
Decorations & Favors
I was watching Girlfriends Guide to Divorce and when Abby McCarthy stood at that podium and exclaimed, “Are we divorced yet?” I wanted to say yes, but I can’t.
There’s nothing like attempting to get your meds refilled and finding out that you’ve been dropped from your medical coverage. Continue reading
In 2015, I promised a metamorphosis of this blog. Well, I can tell you that there shall be changes.
The first and hardest for myself is to be more honest. While I’ve never written a lie, I have left out the hard parts of life. Probably because I thought that it was more uplifting, but the truth is, part of being uplifting is letting others know there is a struggle and it can be overcome.
Next, we will be giving away more fun stuff! I enjoy free things as much as the next gal so, I am hoping to share some of my favorite finds with my readers.
Finally, expansion! Yes, it may be a few months or maybe a few years, but I am hunting for more stories, more lifestyle pieces and just more fabulousness for this blog. While I’m sure hearing my story is entertaining, there are some other fabulous women out there with stories to tell.
Welcome 2016. I look forward to spending the next 362 days with you.
No, thank you, Sir! While you focus on your filet mignon, I don’t need to be your potato waiting to be buttered. I am worth far more than to be seen as the lumpy, starchy side dish that you pay attention to only after the main dish has been consumed.