Girl Power!

Oh Yeah!  This is happening!

It has come to my attention that I use this platform to complain on occasion about my life and my kids.  Ok, maybe occasionally is an understatement... OK!  Fine!  All I do is complain!  But really, does anyone want to hear about how my two older kids entertained themselves downstairs watching PBS while I and my youngest daughter slept until 10am today?  Uh, no.

That would be a big NO.  In fact, I'm sure some of you actually like me a little less and hate me a little more to hear that this actually happened and wasn't some sleep induced hallucination.  Anyway, this actually isn't about my kids.  Nope.  Today, I'm going to talk about me.  And yes, it's going to be positive.

I have recently celebrated a milestone birthday, if you will, and that gave me a bit of perspective on my birthday this year.  Even though I spend most of my time complaining about not sleeping, or my kids throwing up on me, or how hard it is to juggle being a mom and a person at the same time; I have come to the conclusion that I have a pretty charmed life.

I have three beautiful kids, an amazing husband that does nothing but support me, a family that is always there for me and a group of friends that I would not be able to do life without.  I am a truly blessed person.

I came to this conclusion in the back of a limo with more then a few drinks in my belly while some pretty non-kid friendly music played over the speakers.  Sure, I was a little influenced by the copious amounts of alcohol that was placed into my hands for the mere reason that it was my birthday.   Regardless, I looked around at the wonderful group of women I have accumulated over the years and I couldn't have been happier!

When I was first married I remember listening to a relative of mine talk about their latest "girls night out" or even a "girls weekend away" and I thought, "why would I want to take a vacation without my husband?  I mean, he's pretty awesome and totally my best friend."  And although he is still those things I am finally in a point in my life where I realize how important it is to be surrounded by like minded women that build you up and support you.

There are just some things your husband will not understand and it's not up to him to understand them.  Like what it feels like to have a clogged milk duct and know that you're going to have to feed your newborn baby anyway... despite the pain... every 45 minutes.  Yeah, he may sympathies but he'll never really get it.  That's why I need some really awesome, open and positive females in my life and by George, I think I've got it!

The friendships that I have built since having my children are based on things stronger then any other friendship I have built before.  We have been there for each other!  Whether it's to talk someone down from a ledge when night time nursing became overly daunting or spending hours out on the training field knitting a bond that can only be made through hours of sweat and pain.  Either way these ladies have been there!

These ladies have seen me at my worst.  They have been their when I have cried, when I have lost my mind, when I've been so tired I didn't make sense.  They have listening to my complaining and laughed at my jokes.  They have picked me up when I have fallen or carried me when I couldn't take another step. They have celebrated my achievement and gathered in my sorrow without jealousy or judgement.

I have been surround by a group of women that I truly feel I would be lost without and my only regret is that they will never know how much they have given me, how much they have done for me or how much they mean to me.  I love every single one of them!  I don't know if you have some one in your life that just the very thought of them makes you smile but I have a lot of them.  And I am forever grateful.

They are the reason that I write, that I run, that I continue to watch terrible children's movies back to back to back.  Because just when I think I can't take it anymore, I think of these remarkable women.  And I know that they are counting on me, supporting me and cheering me on with their smiles, their tears and their listening ears.

Plus, I know more then one or two of them will be waiting for me with a martini in hand.

Antenella

Dump the Checklist

Being a mom and a Christian is hard.  I didn't expect that.  Sure, I swear like a drunken sailor and I lose my cool more often then I would like so it's safe to say I need Jesus everyday.  Out of everything I envisioned with parenting I never once thought that my relationship with God would become so... well, stagnate!  Since becoming a mom I have had the most amazing and humbling experiences to date.  I have had such proud moments as well as moments of embarrassment that rival any awkward middle schooling episode.

But the one thing I thought would never change is my relationship with God.  I mean, it hasn't really.  I guess our roles have just changes... a lot.  When I was first saved it was easy to think of God as a loving father and as I moved to the young adult years God took on the role of "the lover".  But as a parent it's completely different.  He has become a confident, a keeper of secrets, a cool headed friend that has seen it all. Never an equal but more of a partner.

For the first time in my Christian life I have an inkling of the love that God has for me.  The all consuming fear, love, and admiration that every parent has for their child, only a million times greater.  And that's just for me!  Don't even get me started about how he adores you.  So why am I having such a hard time fellowshipping with Him?  That's just a christian way of saying, why the heck don't I read the word, or write notes, or pray or sing to Him anymore?

Truth.  No hard feelings.

Why do I feel so far away?  It's not that I don't want to talk to God.  He has seen the darkness of my heart and loves me anyway.  I know that there is nothing I could say or do that would make him stop loving me.  I know that he has the much needed answers to all my unsolvable problems and yet, I just don't love on Him the way I used to.  The way I did when I was 16.

At that time my biggest responsibility was showing up to school, work and rehearsal on time.  Nothing major.  I thought it was, at the time but it turns out life gets a lot harder then just trying to stay awake during history class.  I had all the time in the world to devote to my newest crush!  Jesus wasn't just a name in a book, he was my friend!  And not like an imaginary one, but one I could converse with.  One that was there for me always.  One that watched over me when I slept and bid me good morning when I woke.  He was my life!

I did all the things a new christian is supposed to do.  I spent hours reading the bible, I went to these really hippie worship session on the beach and all I did was pray.  For everything!  I was in constant communication with God.

And now...

I would just love to be able to talk to myself without being interrupted.  Sure, I pray but it usually sounds like this:  "Dear God, please help me get through the pediatricians office."/ "Dear God, please make my kids stop screaming."/ "Dear God, please let everyone sleep through the night."/ "Dear God, for the love of you, please don't let me actually kill anyone today. Thank you. Amen."  Not real deep prayer but definitely necessary.

But I went to church and honestly, all it did was make me feel guilty.  I was feeling overwhelmed, turn to Jesus.  I was feeling depressed, turn to Jesus.  I was feeling like a failure, turn to Jesus.  Yeah?  Well, what if one of the reasons I was feeling like a failure is because all I wanted to do was to turn to Jesus but all I got was another demanding child that needed attention that I didn't have the energy to provide?  I felt guilty.  Why couldn't I make the time to be with God?  Everyone else managed.  One of my girlfriend even told me that I was a matter of making him a priority and if that meant getting up at 4 in the morning to do it, so be it.  Really?  What if you've been up since 2am with a vomiting child and you finally get her to go to sleep by 4?  Do you stay awake?  Yeah, the answer is no.  Does that make me a bad christian too?

And then I realized something.  My "crisis prayers" that I said during the day where short, yes, but also often and heartfelt. The times that I sung worship in the car for the three minutes that didn't involve me explaining why we were stopped at a red light and not going, was... joyous.  The times that I managed to get on Facebook and read a scripture that someone posted was felt with the heart.

I realized something important.  Since having kids, my life has been turned upside down.  I don't do anything the same anymore.  So why should I be comparing my relationship with my God now, to the way I started the relationship with Him years ago?  We've changed.  Well, I mean, I've changed.  (He's never-changing and all.)  But our relationship has changed.  Just like my relationship with my parents has changed since having my own family, or my relationship with my husband has changed.

Can you imagine if you continued to relate to your spouse in the same way you related to them when you first got together?  How many pickup lines would you have to go through?  Not to mention trying to make sure that you always had your hair and makeup done.  We all know that now a days we're lucky if we can get a shower in.  But so what?  Our spouse loves us anyway.

They love us through all our emotion ups and downs, our nights of no sleep, our days of clamoring kids and they are just as human as we are.  Now think how much more our God will love us.  Will love me!  How much more understanding is He when I fall asleep mid night time prayer.  Or how much more sympathetic He is when I start to talk and I get interrupted by my life.


It used to be that when I wouldn't be able to make time for God I would envision a sad and lonely Jesus sulking away to wait in a corner till I had some time to devote to him.  Maybe with a little tear rolling down His cheek.  But now I realize, He's not waiting for His time, everything is His time!  He's right there in the thick of it with me.  He's there when I have to count to ten before losing my cool and He cheers with me when He watches my kids hit a milestone.  He is my partner.  My confident.  My friend.  And just like any real friend, He's not just waiting around for the phone to ring.  He's at my door asking me what he can do to help.

It won't be like this forever.  There will be a time when I will have those long moments of worship on the beach and quite time that lasts more then 30 seconds.  But that's not today and probably not tomorrow either.  So for right now, I'm not going to qualify my relationship with my God by the christian checklist that we all carry with us.  We are told that there is freedom in Christ and I don't know about you but am dying for a little freedom.


Antenella

Words without Sense

I'm a talker.  I use affirming words such as loud and obnoxious when asked "what two words best describe you" during interviews.  (Or teen beat quizzes)  Its safe to say there is nothing quite about me. If you know me at all you are well aware that I can carry a whole conversation about pretty much anything, including poop.  (which is, in fact my favorite)  But lately, I just get the feeling that I'm talking a lot without really saying anything.

Do you ever feel that way?  Just yesterday my husband came home and when I tried to ask him about his day I realized I was losing my voice.  Why?  I didn't talk to anyone over two and a half feet talk that day and I know that I wasn't having any in-depth conversations with my 20 month old.  Unless, of course, you consider the finer cinematic qualities of  Pixar's "CARS" worth a long debate.

Thank you McQueen for those long talks.

Never the less, here I was with a scratchy worn out voice.  What the heck was I saying all day?  Lets get a run down, shall we?

NO! (times a million)
Stop!
Do not hit your sister!
Do not hit your brother!
Listen!
Look! Look! Look! Look!
Please, stop whining.
Please, stop crying.
Please, leave me alone.
Please, eat your food.
Please, don't throw up.
May I, please?
You are going to have to wait your turn.
If you don't want to wait for me, do it yourself.
I am NOT taking anyone to the hospital today!
Do you want a spanking?
Did someone poop?
Do you need help?
Do not throw food on the floor.
Use your words!
No, you are not "all done".
the f- word (I'm not proud)
Stop teasing your brother.
Time out!
One... TWO...!

I have hired Morgan Freeman to demonstrate
how I felt after writing this un-exhausted list. 

Um... yeah.  No wonder I'm hoarse.  And losing my mind.  And my kids are sick of me.  With all this constant nagging, even I'm sick of me.  But this is it.  This is my life right now.  It won't always be.  (It better friggin not be)  But for now it's all I am.  Constant vigilance.  Constant correction.  Well, maybe not the f- word but you know what I mean.  It's just one continues lesson in repetition.  And it's exhausting!  Not to mention tedious!  No! Don't! Please!  Are the only words I say anymore.

Yes, I would love a slice of crazy pie, thank you.

Maybe my kids are having a hard time with speech because they never hear anything else come out of my mouth.  Of course, this make me wonder if I'm a bad mom.  Because the only thing better then monotony is a heaping portion of mommy guilt!   Seriously?  Can I really wonder if I'm being a good mom because I want to instill respect and common courtesy in my children?  Which isn't so common after all, by the way.  That is just crazy talk, right?  I'm not failing here, am I?

Some times I wonder if maybe I should just give up.  I mean, my kids are going insane from the repetition and it's obviously not sinking in and what's the point of constantly correcting with a please or thank you anyway?  No one seems to appreciate it.  People definitely don't want to over hear me saying "may I have a cookie, Please?" for the hundredth time in a row in the check out line.

And just when I think, I'm giving up.  I just going to toss in the towel.  Claim defeat.  It happens.  Out of no where.  Sitting, watching Barbie mermaid princess back to back, which a leg dangling over one arm of the couch, magic happens.

"Mommy, may I have a cookie please?"

Yes... yes you may.

 Antenella

The Worst Kid Shows EVER!!

Let me just start by saying that Netflix is my very best friend.  It is my care taker, my distractor when trying to get things done and is some times more helpful then a babysitter (definitely cheaper).  The only thing it doesn't do is clean.  But I'm sure the apple company will figure that out some day.

As you can imagine with having three kids under four, I watch a lot of cartoons.  For the most part I'm fortunate enough to get away with just the basics on PBS.  Curious George, Sesame Street, Sid the science kid, you get the picture.  But for those two hours of "boring adult tv" in the middle of the day I succumb to whatever doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out on Netflix.  Why Charlie Rose?  Why?

One of the many things parenthood has opened my eyes to is just the plethora of terrible cartoons there are in this world.  As it is, it seems the more painful it is to watch the more my kids love it!  Hurray for me.  Here are the latest three terrible cartoons that my oldest daughter makes me watch.

Oh, it gets worse.

Sky-Dancers:  Remember how awesome Jem was when you were growing up?  Guess what,  It wasn't.  It was terrible and your mother probably drank herself into a stupor every time it came on.  Well, this show is like Jem and Angelina Ballerina had a love child but it was out of wedlock in a day and age were it wasn't acceptable in public so they hid the love child in their basement till it was 18 and never let it interact with people until it had a coming out party were it was finally revealed white as a ghost and social retarded!

I don't even know what the premise is.  I think its about five kids from our world who were awesome dancers so they were kidnapped, I mean "recruited" to become the guardians of some alternate universe where everyone has wings and flies.  But some how every episode revolves around dance rehearsal and how the blond is always doing something stupid to put the kingdom in danger.  And my daughter loves it!
Typically if the show is violent or inappropriate in some way, it gets the kill switch and I tell my kids that they can not watch this show anymore.  Unfortunately, there is no real reason for a kill switch on this one besides the brain cells that are be murdered during your viewing of the show, so it is a staple of ours in our household.

Hurray for us!  Except the blond.  She can suck it.

The Fairies:  I bet you were thinking of the Disney Fairies.  Yeah, not so much.  That I can stomach.  This?  I have to leave the room.  It's so bad and what makes it worse is that it is live action so all you can feel is embarrassment for the actors who undoubtably spent way to much money on there theater degrees.  Then you spend the rest of the time wondering if this is something they got excited about.  Or if they told their parents to tape the season premier/finale.  I also spend a good amount of time wondering if the guy on the right knows that his "gold" make up is just a bright bronzer.  As well as if the guy in the middle gets into fights with his husband over his indignation of his being in a show called "the Fairies".

Yay!  For Equality!

Bratz:  I mean really?  I can't even begin to describe the eye burning crap that is the cartoon called Bratz.  As if the dolls weren't bad enough, we now have every version of what a brat could be in cartoon form.  Bratz teenagers, Bratz babies, Bratz animals... I mean it's just terrible.  And I don't know what the writers were thinking when they all got together to create these programs but humility was not one of them.  With real no fault of there own, (I mean were do you go when your protagonists are called brats?) the show is based on the name alone.  Its about fashion and pageants, make up and popularity all the while trying to force a through line of "friendship".  I'm not going to lie, its a bit of a stretch.  Unless, of course, you thought the "plastics" in Mean Girls were all about friendship.  And of course my daughter loves it... kill me now.  As for that kill switch... DOA.  We do not watch Bratz.

and no they don't ever put on pants.

With so many options of depravity on Netflix you could be the next to find the "Worst Kid Show Ever!"  Of course, if you do, the only thing you'll get as a reward is being forced to watch it over and over again by the real boss of the house.  Your kids.  

Antenella

Boys are Crazy!

Boys are crazy.  I mean girls get such a bad wrap when they hit their pre-teen years but boys are crazy way before that.  I spend most of my time with my son keeping him from trying to kill himself.  There is no talking sense to a boy when it comes to the basic physics of gravity... or inertia.  Just yesterday I watched him swan dive off my couch on to the tile floor just as I was saying for the 14th time "do not jump on the couch you are going to fall."

It seriously looked like this.  I watched
the whole thing.

Gravity works.

Now add to the already explosive nature of a boy the dramatic drive that he gets from his mother and you get a walking disaster waiting to happen at any moment.  And that moment seems to come more often to then not.  Why, just yesterday I was at the gym.

Ok, so I live at that gym.  Not because I am totally dedicated to keeping healthy, (giggle, now that is funny) but because they will watch all three of my tornados for up to a glorious two hours!!  Oh yes, I love my gym.  Anywho, I was at the gym and my two hours was up (sob) so I was getting my kiddos and getting ready to go.

My drama queen, decides that he wants to be carried to the car just like his baby sister.  Well, I say to him that is just to bad because I worked on arms today and that is just not going to happen.  He takes that opportunity to collapse to his knees in the doorway, no doubt, and starts sobbing hysterically.  Meanwhile I'm carried a diaper bag, my gym bag, my youngest and I'm trying to grab my oldest by the hand.  And now I have to figure out a way to get my screaming son to the car...  In the parking lot... where there are other cars...

Fortunately, the entire staff at the gym knows me and is aware that there is no immediate threat to security and that this is just one of his many meltdowns.  No need to call DCF here.  But I am still stuck with a screaming child.  I finally manage to get him under control when one of the nursery staff ladies places my son in my arms along with everything else I am carrying, and I make a bee line to the door.

You ain't playing Plato.  You don't play.

Some where between the kid care and the door (which is roughly ten feet from each other) my drama queen decides that he has to go visit the staff at the front desk and when I don't immediately turn around and make my way he turns into the Tasmanian devil right there in my arms.

So just to keep the tally going, I'm carrying a diaper bag, a gym bag, a 15 month old that doesn't walk, a screaming, wailing, tantrum throwing 19 month old that can walk and my oldest is just trying to hold on to any part of my that isn't going to be kicked by little feet.

I make it out the door and about a quarter of the way to the car before my son miraculously turns into Vaseline and is now slipping down my body.  I have nothing else to hold on to other then his hair and I know that's not going to hold him, so he eventually drops to the floor.  In the parking lot.  DANGER DANGER!

At this point I am trying to get to point A (the gym) to point B (my car) as quickly as humanly possible  since we are now past the point of no return and we are in the parking lot where there are a lot of old people who can't see out their windshields on a good day.  So I do the only thing I can do.  I grab my son by the back of his shirt and carry him the rest of the way like a duffle bag.

They are insane behind a wheel.

I have come to the conclusion that kids need to come with handles.

Finally, I make it back to the car and my son has kinda stopped screaming since the air was being cut off by the collar of his shirt and I just start throwing kids and bags in the car while my son collapses on to the pavement for the second time.  I figure I've got some time before he recovers so I start strapping kids into the car.

Well, he decides to take that opportunity of distraction and darts into the road.  My heart sinks and I am on my feet faster then I thought possible, diving into my son before he makes it past the parked cars into the road.  Now he is back to screaming while I am screaming about the merits of staying with your mother in a parking lot and why don't you ever listen to me and is it really so bad here with me that you have been spending every single moment since you were placed in my arms trying to kill yourself!

Now I am wrestling the child into his car seat as he cries so hard he is now gagging and so close to throwing up all over himself that I'm just trying to make it out of there without getting vomit on my person.  That's when my husband calls.  "Hows your day going?"

"You don't really want to know."

But all ended well.  No one got dead, I didn't have to kill anyone and everyone fell asleep on the way home.  Which is literally 3 minutes from the gym.  I guess I could probably avoid another meltdown if he just gets some sleep.  And you know what I say to that?

Maybe you should sleep through the night!

Antenella