This is me. This is what I believe.

It seems to me that we are a country that wants to have it both ways. The have your cake and eat it too mentality.

* We mourn the senseless killing of school children but refuse to change gun control laws. I'm not a hunter nor do I shoot for fun but I still don't see why ANYONE in this country needs to own a semi-automatic assault weapon. I've seen posts saying that the teachers should be armed. Really? Where does that mentality stop? Because you know when the next shooting happens it will be at a hospital or a day care center. Do we arm all those workers too? How about the 15 year old taking your ticket at the movie theater?

And while we are talking about regulating things, how about rules for the media? Instead of competing for ratings, respect the family and friends of the victims instead of ambushing them looking for quotes or photos, clogging up their streets and churches you send one person -- for all of you (like the AP) -- and let them grieve in peace?

* We are a country founded on religious freedom, as long as it is our religion everyone is following. The theme of "put God back in school" has been popular. Sorry, I believe in God but don't ever recall praying in school. We said the pledge of allegiance but that was all I heard of God in school. Two recurring themes in the Bible are for people to teach their children/next generation about God despite what people say around them. The other is that not everyone will follow God and that's ok. He's not happy about it, but (if you believe) when the time comes and we are all judged He will sort it out. We are encouraged to share our beliefs and not be scared to voice them from the mountaintops, NOT to force them down people's throats.

* We mourn the loss of the unborn, but shun those alive and in need. You fight for an unborn child to be saved and then once it's parent can't afford food or clothes or can't find a job, turn your back because they're "mooching" off of the system. That's not pro- life, that's pro-birth.

* We cry for parents that leave their children too soon due to undiagnosed conditions and cancer but refuse to fund programs that would have found it in the first place. How does that make sense? As any of our parents have told us, money doesn't grow on trees. If you want to play, you have to pay. Literally. You want better healthcare? Better schools? More police? It costs money. The dreaded T word -- taxes. We have all seen the alternative and very few seem happy with it.

* We are a country that prides ourselves on being "one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." We could not be a more divided nation short of a second civil war. I've already covered the under God part. There is no liberty for those enslaved to bills, or mental illness, or any other number of things that we fall subject to. As far as justice? I don't believe the victims families of Newtown will ever feel like justice has been served.

We are a nation that rallies together when tragedy strikes. We donate our time and our money, we organize food and coat drives, and we pray to God on behalf complete strangers -- act as many would term Christian.

Imagine what an amazing country we would live in if we did that everyday.

Christmas is for giving

Despite my complaints, I know that I am lucky. I have two healthy children, a roof over my head, food on the table, and are relatively debt-free. I do my best to give to others during the Christmas season and want to teach my kids to do the same. See, they're a bit spoiled. They have three sets of grandparents and aunts and uncles who all hear "I like Jake" and next thing you know there's Jake plates and t-shirts and toys and books. Admittedly, sometimes I'm not much better.

This year I'm starting a new tradition with the kids. They will be receiving a letter from their Elf, Jack. The letter is from Santa looking for their help to give him toys for other children who don't have as much as they do and to put the items in a special sack he has sent. Once they're collected, I plan on donating them to a local church.

The letter is kind of cheesy, but here it is in case anyone else wants to use it. Obviously, Santa still needs to sign it. You can get your own Santa sack here.

100 to zero and back again

Ah, post-deployment. It's a time of adjustment. Of changes and confusion. Of learning what life is like together again and how you fit in. And that was just me!

There's a lot of focus within the military community about helping service members readjust to life back on the homefront but nothing that I have seen for spouses. I went from being everything to our two kids to being replaced in an instant. It went from "mommy, mommy" to "daddy, daddy" and it felt weird. What about all I had done for the past 7 months? Doing all the chores, all the driving, all the bedtime stories, and kissing all the boo-boos? Did they not notice?

But then a few days passed and suddenly my husband was the one thrown to the back burner. It was "mommy, mommy" again. For a little while it felt good -- they do need me. But them the calls for daddy got less frequent and even if he was standing right there with nothing to do and I was elbow deep in dishes, I heard "mommy can I have" or "mommy will you get" and I felt my blood start to simmer. Why not ask dad? Is it because "mommy, mommy" was our pattern for so long or do they prefer me for certain things?

I expected things to go differently. That the everyday stuff would be more evenly divided, like it was before he left. This is not a dig at my hubby in any way -- he is more than willing (and wanting) to help but there are moments the kids literally won't let him.

Maybe I'm not back at 100. But definitely at least 92.

The "talk"

About two weeks ago, I had a very awkward conversation with my 4-year old daughter, Samantha, over lunch. It went something like this:

Sam: "Mommy, you grew me in your belly, right?"
Me: "Yes."
S: "And you grew Danny in your belly."
Me: "Yes."
S: "And you grew Daddy in your belly."
Me: "No. I did not grow Daddy. Grandma K did."
S: "Oh. So, Nana grew you in her belly?"

(And this is where it gets awkward...)

Me: "No. Grandma A did."
S: "No Mommy, Nana did."
Me: "No Sammy, Grandma A did."

(She's clearly not following this conversation at this point. And them my feeble attempt to explain adoption went something like this...)

Me: "Sometimes people grow babies in their tummies but they don't keep them because they can't take care of them. So they give hem to other people to raise the baby and be that baby's Mommy and Daddy."

(Still looking confused...)

Me: "Grandma A grew me but Nana and Grandpa raised me, so they are my Mommy and Daddy."

(Long pause...)

S: "But you definitely didn't grow Daddy."

Ah, 4-year old conversations...

The constant compromise of me

I definitely have a hard time letting things go. When I'm fighting with you, I want to finish it. When I have a problem, I want to solve it as soon as possible. This has proved problematic in two areas of my life -- my daughter and the Army.

While my husband has been deployed, my daughter has been acting out. I took the proactive approach and got her into counseling. It took a long time, but we are finally in a better place. That's not to say all is perfect. She still has the occasional freak out and tries to argue with me. The therapist has told me to ignore it. Let her freak out and get it out of her system as long as she is in a safe place. As I've written before, sometime the freak outs get ugly with hurtful phrase thrown at me. In those moments I'm supposed to send her to another room and let her come back when she is ready to make reparations. I'm also supposed to welcome the apology and move on in a positive way. THAT is the hard part. When you hurt me, I can't bounce back immediately.

The Army is another offender. I'm a planner, a problem solver. But the Army rarely works on hard deadlines. Everything is subject to change. Plans need to be in pencil and most civilians don't work that way. We can't just pick up and go at a moment's notice (especially with kids). There are vacation request forms, arrangements for babysitting/pet sitting/house sitting., not to mention the how you're getting there. It's like a thousand piece puzzle that's always missing that one last piece.

Life will go on -- I just wish it was simpler.

Weekly wake-up call

My 4-year old daughter has some speech issues. They're nothing too out of the ordinary, but her pediatrician and I agreed that early intervention is best.

In addition to her working on her sounds, it serves as a weekly wake-up call to me to count my blessings. You see, we were referred to a facility off-post that specializes in working with children and adults with cerebral palsy. No matter how I feel each week when I drop her off, by the time her 30 minutes are up, I once again feel blessed to have two healthy children.

I hope the universe sends you a reminder of how blessed you are!

The second time around

You would think that after having the first child, that the second would be easy. You'd remember all the tricks of the trade so to speak. Yeah, no so much.

Some of it I think was my brain protecting me. Like forgetting about having the catheter after you give birth. But there are also more day-to-day things like I've forgotten to check to make sure I have diapers and wipes with me. A change of clothes for the kid in case there's an extra bad diaper or food everywhere. A bib. Toys to occupy the baby.

Today, as I sat at my dining room table trying to feed baby D his dinner, I realized that I don't have the slightest clue what I tried feeding his big sister as her first foods. I actually broke out some of my parenting books to try and jog my memory. Of course, she is a super picky eater so I'd like to try and correct that this time around.

So far we've tried Cheerios (hates them), grapes (so-so), apples (so-so), pineapple (so-so), fries (loves), chicken nuggets (loves), ice cream (loves), yogurt (loves), pancakes (nope), broccoli (nope), plain pasta (likes), and rice (so-so).

What am I not remembering????

Don't take it personally

I've heard that phrase a lot recently, mostly in regards to my daughter. As I've mentioned before, she is really acting out with her father being deployed. Part of the acting out is saying awful things to me and doing things she knows she shouldn't do. Here are some examples from yesterday alone:

- I don't want to live with you. I want to live with... (grandma, aunt/uncle, nana, etc)
- You're a bad mommy
- You don't love me all the time
- This house is yucky and it's your fault
- But it didn't hurt, he's not crying (in response to being yelled at for hitting her brother with a toy)
- You're mean, you won't play with me (not true btw)

Then there were the countless times she pushed or hit her brother, stuck her tongue out at me or misbehaved in some other way.

Her bad behavior is making me act like an abused spouse. When I hear her call me, I involuntarily cringe. When she starts in on me about whatever, I sit there and take it. I cry quietly in the bathroom. I count the hours until she goes to bed.

Deep down, I know that it's not me. She's reacting to this incredibly difficult situation and she's frustrated because she can't change it. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. All I can do is keep surviving and hope that today things are different.

Is it them or is it us?

Hang around any group of married women for more than say... 30 minutes?... and you're likely to hear at least one of them complain about their husband. If said couple has children, it might only take 20 minutes. I'm not going to lie and say that I never complain about mine. I think it's human nature (and too many TV shows, movies, songs, etc. that make life out to be perfect when the truth is far from it but that's a blog for another time). 

Anyway, I got to thinking today -- is the real problem them or is it us?

I've heard my husband tell me time and again, leave the dishes I'll do them. Or, why don't you make plans with your friends, I'll watch the kids. But how often do I take him up on the offer? Maybe once every twenty times. (I'm kinda surprised he keeps offering with as many times as I've said no.)  Could all the times I've said "no, I've got it" be why he doesn't jump in when the kids need a bath or he doesn't drop everything when he hears the "I'm hungry" call from across the room? Have I inadvertently trained him to wait for me to ask him to do these kind of things instead of just doing them?

I remember a long time ago, probably right after getting married, having a conversation with a high school friend of mine. We were lamenting about being newlyweds, taking care of a house, having full time jobs, etc. The gist of the conversation was that as women, we have been told from the time we were little girls that we could have it all, do it all, be it all, but that nobody told us how. Were we just supposed to learn by watching our moms who managed to work, run a household, and still stay sane?

Do we, as a gender, have a Wonder Woman complex? You know, the "I can handle it all on my own" borderline control freak behavior that exhausts us day after day, yet we don't stop and ask anyone for help and even when we do ask, we feel like we've failed?

Well, I for one am hanging up my golden lasso. If people are willing to help, I'm going to let them. And honey, if you're reading this, I'm going to take you up on your offers more often. Maybe one out of ten ;)

By the way, if you're a mom like me who likes to laugh and could use some good old "yeah, that happens to me too" check out the Momastery blog or follow it on Facebook.

It's just routine

Just about everything I've read and/or been told about parenting is that establishing routines are good for kids. It gives them a sense of consistency and they take comfort in knowing what is going to happen next. When my daughter was younger, I really took that to heart and we still follow a routine each day.

But what happens when the routine turns on you?

Before we moved, each night my daughter would get her dessert, go to the bathroom, brush her teeth, get her PJs on, get a book read to her and then it was lights out. I'd say 90% of the time she did it without much hassle.

Post-move it's been another situation entirely. She fights going to the bathroom. She dawdles picking out her PJs. She mulls over her book selection like her very life may depend on reading "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" instead of "Dear Zoo". And then there's the questions. What's the weather tomorrow? What are we doing? and so on. I went so far as to institute a three question maximum as part of our routine so that she can't suck me in to staying in her room longer than necessary.

I don't know what my next move is. Do I make a new routine and hope that it breaks the bad behavior and risk it upsetting her "comfort"? Do I stick to what we know and suck up her being a pain?

Ah the mundane yet critical decisions of parenting...

I want you to know...

It has taken me a long time to be comfortable with who I am. But, here I am at age 38, and I can finally say with 100% honesty love me or hate me, take me or leave me, it doesn't matter to me. Here are a few of the "life lessons" I've learned that I want my kids to know.

Be you.
I know, this seems to be an obvious one but how many people can honestly say that they are true themselves all of the time? I know for a long time I couldn't. I tried to change my look, my hair, my clothes, the way I behaved -- all in an attempt to fit in. But at the end of the day I wasn't being me. So, it should have come as no surprise when the people I changed for or no longer my friends because their friendship wasn't with me, it was with an alternate version of me.

Don't try to change anyone.
On a related note, don't try to change someone else. People only change when they WANT to change. as much as you want the other person to be happy with their job, their career, their relationships, it is up to them to make the change. That's not to say that you can't be supportive or offer opinions and suggestions, but in the end they have to do it, not you.

Be honest.
Sometimes the things you will say will, quite frankly, make people mad. You might as well have them be angry with you for your honest opinion and not for something that you think they want to hear.

Stand up for yourself.
Nobody in your adult life, and I mean NOBODY, will ever stand up for you 100%. People will always talk behind your back. It's in our nature. But when you know about it, stand up for yourself. No matter what is said make sure that everyone knows the truth about you.

Stand up for others.
Not everyone has the strength to do for themselves. It's okay to do it for them until they can find their strength.

Be kind.
It's been said that if you gathered a hundred people and everyone put their problems on the table, nobody would trade problems and everyone would walk away with their own and I tend to agree. Yes, you will have days (maybe even weeks) when you feel like the sky is falling. But that doesn't mean you have the right to treat others poorly. Everyone's problems are their reality and even if they seem happy on the outside, their world could be crumbling behind closed doors. So be kind. Be generous when you can. Not just with your money, but with your time, with your patience, with your love.

Trust your gut.
Even when the decision seems right in your mind or your heart, listen to your gut. It will never steer you wrong.

Have faith.
Even when everything is falling apart around you, have faith. It could be faith in your family, in your friends, in your spouse, in God. You will get through it.

Know you are loved.
People will come and go in your life. The people who leave will go not because of who you are but because of who they are. Those who are meant to be in your life will be there, no matter what.

My heart hurts

Deployments aren't easy on anyone -- the service member, their spouse, children, parents, etc. For the past few weeks, my 4-year old has been taking her anger and sadness out on me. It's been incredibly frustrating and, quite honestly, hard to take. You don't expect a 4-year old to look at you and tell you they don't want to live with you or try to hit you or kick you. You tell yourself they are hurting and can't express it properly but it doesn't make it easier to accept, especially in the moment.

Today, she broke my heart. We were at the birthday party of a friend of mine's son. She was hesitant which was understandable because she didn't know the other kids, only the birthday boy. As we stood there in our "stand off" about if she was going in or not, she started to cry. But it wasn't the defiant cry I've grown used to seeing. It was a cry of pain, of hurt. The crying turned into sobbing and she finally muttered "Mom please don't leave me never ever." It took every ounce of me not to sob with her (even writing this, I'm fighting tears). Apparently she blurted out to my brother this morning "My dad is in the Army. He's far away." I guess it has been on her mind all day.

The worst part is I know there are no words to make her feel better despite me promising that I'm not going anywhere. I know that no matter how much I hug her and tell her I love her I can't fill the void of her Dad being gone.

I can't stop her heart from hurting and I can't stop mine either.

Dear news media

Dear news media,

You suck.

No, really. You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning. "NBC news has learned there was an attack on a military base in eastern Afghanistan. We will report more as details come in." I did a Google search. My hubby is in eastern Afghanistan. I didn't get my usual email from him this morning. Is he ok? Is his unit ok? Was it near him? I searched USA Today, CNN, AP. Nothing. Like I somehow imagined the news anchor telling me there was an attack. Thirty minutes passed. An hour. An hour and a half. Finally I see the news. It's not in my husband's province. I can breath again.

But you still suck.

How would you like it if someone called you and said your spouse was in a car accident and then hung up. Questions would be spinning in your head. Was the accident bad? Were they injured? Are they at the hospital? Maybe you'd even call local hospitals or the police.

Please, for the sake of me and other military spouses out there, don't pull that crap again.

Sincerely,
Me

Identity crisis

Recently I have been struggling with my identity. Mostly, I feel like I've lost it. The "old, fun" Tracey has been replaced with sleep deprived, stressed Tracey. Not that there is anything to be stressed about. I mean, we just moved, unpacked, hubby deployed, unpacked some more, my grandmother died, found out I had a heart condition...

With the passing of Mother's Day, I realized that I'm having an identity crisis.

I gave up my old life to be a Mom about 4-years ago. Soon after my daughter was born, I freaked out. Gone were the days of going to the movies, taking a weekend trip, or catching a concert on a whim. Now, everything had to be planned with time built in for feedings, unexpected diaper catastrophes, and all the other things that come with a newborn. This wasn't my life anymore. It was her life and I was somehow entrusted with taking care of her. You would think that they 9 months leading up to her birth would have prepared me but apparently that wasn't the case.

As my daughter got older, however, I settled in to motherhood. I even ventured out of what had become our routine to do things like pilates and yoga. Taking time for myself as they say. Then my son was born and I felt the old feelings creeping back. How am I going to do this? Do I really have to plan my day around naps and feeding times again?

We, as moms, put ourselves on the back burner. We sacrifice our time, our looks, our wardrobe, our plans -- heck, our life -- all for the sake of our kids. And what recognition do we get for our efforts? Awards, pay raises, days off? Not usually. We sit back and tell ourselves that we are paid in hugs and kisses and, if we're lucky, a Mother's Day present. But there are the days when that's doesn't seem like enough.

Yesterday was one of those days for me.

My husband is deployed and my daughter has been acting out. I can't tell you for sure that they two are indisputably linked but I'm willing to bet on it. It started out like any other day. I went to get her out of bed and she started scowling at me, telling me to get out of her room. I'm not one to start the day off with a fight so I kept my cool and asked her where she'd like me to go. When she replied "Wait in the closet" my blood began to boil. Who did she think she was talking to?!? But, I kept calm. We continued with the usual routine -- bathroom, breakfast, get dressed -- and set off for music class.

When we got there, something was off. She sat in her spot pouting as the other kids sang, danced and played around her. I gave her about 5 minutes before I asked her what was up. She wouldn't reply. My rule is if you're not participating, there's no reason to stay. So after another 5 minutes or so I suggested we leave to which she agreed. Once we were out the doors, however, her attitude kicked in. Gone was the pouting and in was the screaming. She was mad that I had her leave and told me she wanted to go home without me. Things continued to escalate as she screamed that she didn't want to live with me anymore and she didn't need me. The fit continued in the car and even in our house. I was livid. Eventually she calmed down. We played, had lunch, and went out to ride bikes. About an hour later, she asked to go to the playground. I told her no -- I had already told her the TV and playground were off limits for the rest of the day due to her behavior. And on came another fit. Worse than the first one. Again she screamed that she didn't want to live with me, that she wanted to live in another state. She screeched at the top of her lungs. Kids from other houses stopped playing and some of them came from inside of their homes to see what was going on. I was mortified.

Is this what I gave up my former self for? To be abused by the very child I love and take care of day in and day out? To feel so unappreciated and hurt that she actually made me cry? We're not talking about a 14-year old. She's 4!

As I write this, I wonder if I'm being selfish. Wanting the recognition of dealing with a day like yesterday. Wanting time away. Wanting to be able to do things when I want to without interruption. Are these the thoughts of every mother? The ones we don't dare speak out loud for fear we'll be judged, or worse yet, be deemed a terrible mother?

What do you think?