tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34964944286579459192024-03-18T23:27:15.935-04:00My Life Needs An Easy ButtonObservations, successes, and failures about parenting, military life and anything else I encounter.Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-66322623717361418302019-08-16T22:46:00.003-04:002019-08-16T22:46:46.548-04:00Is it just me?The last time I had a best friend, I was a senior in high school. Since then I’ve come to the realization everyone has coupled off without me. I’m not talking about finding “the one” and getting married. I’m talking about BFFs. That one person you can call day or night to share a laugh, vent to, or make last minute plans. Some people say that is the same as the person you marry, but sorry, I need a life outside of my marriage too (Sorry honey, I still love you!).<br />
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I’ve thought and overthought about this for years on end and tonight, after an especially stressful week, I found myself in my kitchen wanting to call my BFF for comfort except there’s nobody to call.<br />
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Is it because I have moved so many places as a military spouse that old bonds were broken? Have my closest friends outgrown me? Did I outgrow them? Maybe I’m just not BFF material even though I feel like I am. I think those who know me IRL would say they could call me for a favor or advice or whatever they may need and know I would be there for them. I’ve offered to help friends financially due to their own financial hardship, traveled for deaths in the family, coordinated gifts when someone had a baby or needed a pick-me-up. But friendship isn’t a one-way street, especially when it is someone you are supposed to be a best friend.<br />
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And so here I sit. The keyboard warrior, wondering where I went wrong. Why on a night like tonight I can’t think of anyone to call (who I’m not related to) to share my frustrations and who I know will not only answer the phone, but will listen, understand, and help me to see the light at the end of the tunnel.<br />
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Come to think of it, maybe my husband is my BFF afterall.<br />
<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-74779928920408871782015-08-05T11:47:00.002-04:002015-08-05T11:49:25.195-04:00The Post-Moving BluesPCS season. It's the best of times, it's the worst of times.<br />
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Most people shed their proverbial (or sometimes literal) tears at the destination they're leaving. They look in the rearview mirror, snap a photo, and tear up at the the good memories and friends they are leaving behind.<br />
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For me, however, the tears are on the other end.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, it's not that I'm happy to leave an assignment but I think the excitement of a new place pushes me past the sadness. My mind spins with the "bucket list" of things to do at our new destination, where the furniture will fit, etc. But then, the blues set in.<br />
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The household goods are delivered and unpacked. The walls are decorated with familiar photos and decor. I've learned how to get to the grocery store and Target. And everything else is new. New friends, new school, new church, new gym, new hairstylist, new doctor, new dentist, new times for the kids' activities... THAT is what brings me to tears. Suddenly, the schedule we honed at our previous post no longer works. My usual "lifeline" -- the local spouses' club -- is a no-go this time around because my son's preK is right in the middle of the events. Two of the three activities my daughter has selected are nearly back-to-back on the same day, as is my son's one sport, and both run though our usual dinner time.<br />
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It becomes overwhelming. The stress builds. My temper gets shorter. Flutters race through my heart. I feel alone (even though this time I have a great friend who lives nearby).<br />
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And I cry.<br />
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<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-21732721275072849532015-02-04T10:36:00.001-05:002015-08-05T11:48:29.855-04:00What this MilSpouse wants you to knowWith all of the ISIS and other acts of terror going on in the world, my facebook feed often has sentiments like these:<br />
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"We should just kill them all."</div>
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"Let's invade [country]?"</div>
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"Why aren't we doing anything?"</div>
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As a MilSpouse, these statements make me shudder because if any of those 'wishes' were to be granted, it could be my husband, or the spouse of one of my friends or neighbors to fulfill the task. </div>
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"But your husband was deployed recently, surely he won't go" may be your reply. Let me tell you -- It doesn't matter what rank, where you're stationed, or what job you're doing -- there's always the chance the phone will ring, calling you for another deployment. </div>
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I've watched friends' spouses return from deployment, just to be transferred to anoth unit and head back out the door again. Another six months or more of being separated from family, risking your life, and possibly coming home different than when you left. And then there's the emotional and sometimes physical toll on the ones left behind. </div>
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So the next time something awful happens, post you're mad. Say it's terrible. But please, unless you're volunteering for the mission, please don't play President. </div>
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-8505452899392135982014-02-03T08:43:00.001-05:002014-02-03T08:43:58.158-05:00I think I'm finally getting it<i><span class="bold quote_actor">Anna: </span><span class="line">I don't even know what love is.</span><br /><span class="bold quote_actor">Olaf the Snowman: </span><span class="line">That's okay. I do. Love is putting someone else's needs before yours.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="line"> - Frozen</span></i><br />
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<span class="line">Just about six years into this adventure we call parenting, I think I'm finally getting it. I've long understood the quote above, although it's not always the easiest to follow. Who among us wouldn't rather sleep an extra 30 minutes rather than get up to watch cartoons at 6:30 on a Saturday even though it means missing those 30 minutes with our littles? </span><span class="line">(I'm sure there are some of you out there, but I really think you're in the minority...)</span><br />
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<span class="line">I had a bit of a revelation over the past week taking a BuzzFeed quizz about what kind of parent I am and was a bit shocked with the answer. The General. Strict and controlling. I couldn't have been more surprised. Not that these quizzes are the true definition of anyone, but still. Is that really me? Am I more worried about schedule and rules than I am having fun with my kids?</span><br />
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<span class="line">That's when it hit me. I want my kids' memories of me to be good ones. Not the mom that loses her crap on a daily basis over them bickering, or the one that is too busy washing dishes to sit down and color. I want to be the one that says yes more than no, even if it means making the millionth rainbow loom bracelet this week and for their memories to be full of my face lit in sunlight, not the glow of my iPhone. </span><span class="line">My own memories of my childhood are full of loving
moments, shared secrets, and the one time I actually got spanked with a Girl Scout manual (I
totally deserved it). </span><span class="line"><span class="line">As much as I hate to think it, tomorrow is not promised.</span> I wonder if someone was to extract my kids
memories of me what they would find. </span><br />
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<span class="line">I'm sure I won't be perfect on this endeavor, and there</span><span class="line"></span><span class="line"> will still be rules and expectations. But the next time someone asks for a drink and I've just sat down on the couch, I'll say "Sure, what would you like?" rather than "But I just sat down." </span><span class="line"><br /></span>
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<span class="line">And so, with that, I'm off to enjoy rather than dread a snow day with my kids. It's time to make memories.</span>Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-81152272644495583312013-12-09T16:26:00.002-05:002013-12-23T13:32:29.369-05:00Baby Shower gameI helped with my sister-in-law's baby shower this weekend. After culling Pinterest and other sites for idea, I settled on a matching game of sorts. Since she is having a girl, we did match the daughter to her celebrity parents. Here it is in case anyone is looking for a game to use:<br />
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Follow this link to download it from Google docs:<br />
<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B3E0PNGJuggqMUxLMEYtZWdNVk0/edit?usp=sharing" target="_blank">Celebrity baby game</a><br />
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ANSWER KEY:<br />
Arthur Ashe - 3 Camera<br />
Beyonce - 2 Blue Ivy<br />
Brad Pitt - 9 Shiloh Nouvel<br />
Bruce Willis - 10 Tallulah Belle<br />
Cher - 4 Chastity<br />
David Beckham - 7 Harper Seven<br />
Frank Zappa - 5 Diva Muffin<br />
Gwyneth Paltrow - 1 Apple<br />
Kim Kardashian - 8 North<br />
Kurt Cobain - 6 Frances Bean Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-76493031103499562492013-11-08T17:05:00.001-05:002013-11-08T17:05:31.939-05:00So which is it?My 5-yr old daughter brought her school photo home today. She looks beautiful of course, but I'm biased. I posted it on Facebook for our friends and family to see. They too said she's beautiful and I got a few of the "she's your mini-me" comments which lead me to a realization.<br />
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If everyone says she's my mini-me and I think that she's beautiful, why don't I see myself that way? Don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm ugly, but I also don't find myself beautiful. Cute? Sure. Occasionally, I take a photo where <i>I </i>even think I look pretty. But beautiful? Hot? Nope.<br />
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<i>(Side note: My husband will tell you people post things like this on Facebook or wherever in order to get their friends to tell them they are pretty and boost their ego, but that isn't my intention.)</i> <br />
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On the flip side, I have a friend who is beautiful and knows it. She gets torn to shreds by other people, women mostly, for being beautiful and openly admitting that she knows it. Most of the time they do it behind her back or worse, in my opinion, while hiding behind a computer screen. <br />
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We are told to have self-confidence but are sold a million and one ways to improve ourselves -- diet pills, make-up, hair straighteners, plastic surgery. And when we find confidence in our looks we're seen as vain, conceited, having a "better than you" attitude.<br />
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So which is it that is acceptable? To know that you are beautiful and be proud of it or to be beautiful and not realize it?<br />
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It seems like neither which makes it that much more puzzling to me.<br />
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How do I raise a girl in this world who is confident in her looks, in her smarts, and in her abilities in a world that makes a profit playing on our insecurities and allowing total strangers to rip us apart because when we have confidence?<br />
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For now I suppose I have to work on my own confidence for her because that is how they learn the most -- by example. I'm going to try Sammy. I'm going to try.<br />
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-43295360180497987922013-10-24T11:56:00.004-04:002013-10-24T11:57:56.978-04:00The good fightJust like any parent, I struggle dealing with my kids at times. My 5-yr old daughter is very headstrong (I can't imagine where she gets it from) and my 2-1/2 yr old is still relatively non-verbal, making communicating a challenge.<br />
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A little over a week ago, my daughter had a MASSIVE meltdown on the way to school because I corrected her in front of her friends which meant she then had to walk with me instead of her friends -- the horror!! Just a few minutes after the moms and littles got back home after drop off, a neighbor rang my doorbell and handed over this book:<br />
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I have to admit, I groaned a little inside. I've read countless articles about changing my child's behavior and never saw any real results. It sat on my nightstand for about a week before I cracked it open. Nothing in particular triggered it, other than maybe my guilt that I still had the book in my possession. Might as well take a look before I return it. You never know, right?<br />
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Wow. I mean WOW. Although this book started off like a lot of other parenting advice (give your child choices, pay more attention, etc.) it had a firmer approach than most others nowadays. Say no and walk away. Say what??? I can say no. That's not the issue. But walk away as my 5-yr old continues to ask me "why can't I have a friend over?" and not answer her? Unheard of. She and I are master debaters with each other -- making our cases until one of us compromises, or on rare occasion, caves. The same advice is given for having your kids do things. Tell them once and walk away. If they don't do it and they're late for school, oh well. Didn't eat and now dinner is over? Oh well. You mean no more having an entire meal consist of "eat your dinner?" Again, unheard of, especially in our house.<br />
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Little by little, I've been employing the tactics in the book and I am actually seeing results. There's certainly a lot less yelling on my part and my kids are figuring out that they don't need me for every single thing. Example -- as I type this, my son says "Mom, elly." (He wants his toy elephant.) I told him "you get it" and went back to typing. A few "No, you mom" whines later, he gave up, got up, and got the toy. Success!!<br />
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So, thanks neighbor. You know who you are! <br />
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<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-17923920730217988162013-08-28T16:23:00.001-04:002013-08-28T16:23:40.903-04:00What to be or not to beIn a little less than two years, my husband will retire from his Army career. It's been a roller coaster ride of a time full of ups and downs but I don't regret saying yes to bring an Army wife for one minute. We have been fortunate enough for me to be a stay-at-home mom to our two kids but, of course, that meant leaving my career in the dust (not like it was a "portable one" to begin with). <div><br></div><div>With no true idea of where we will wind up, planning for my next career has my head spinning more than the Tilt-a-whirl at the boardwalk. My background is in marketing -- advertising, copywriting, proof reading. I've looked at jobs in my field online and it makes me nervous. Can I still do all those tasks in he job description? Is it like riding a bike? Will it all come back to me?</div><div><br></div><div>I've thought maybe jumping all in isn't the right strategy. So, I've looked for proof reading positions I can do from home with no luck. I've considered changing fields altogether. Am I willing to go back to (and pay for) school? What would be something I can do no matter where we wind up? There's almost too many options but I <i>think</i> I've narrowed it down to five:</div><div><br></div><div>- proof reading</div><div>- ultrasound tech</div><div>- real estate agent</div><div>- yoga instructor</div><div>- event planner</div><div><br></div><div>I just don't know and the panic is setting in. For real estate and ultrasounds, I would need to know where we are going to live because of state licensing. Proof readers aren't needed everywhere. Event planning is a night and weekend job and I'm not sure how in demand yoga instructors are. </div><div><br></div><div>Did I mention my head is swimming????</div><div><br></div><div>*sigh*</div>Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-37150928117871112872013-06-21T08:18:00.001-04:002013-06-21T08:19:01.544-04:00It's happening...With 146 days to go until the big 4-0 (not that anyone is counting), my body has decided to give up little by little.<br />
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First to go, back in my late 20's/early 30's was my hair. The grays started popping up in my dark hair, shining like a beacon. In the beginning, I was able to pluck them out. But then they started to spread and multiply so the at-home coloring began. With two kids and at a constant state of lack of sleep, the coloring became more and more challenging so I bit the bullet and went to the salon. It's a little pricey, but it gives me a break and keeps the color from staining my towels and bathroom floor. Worth it.<br />
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Next was the body. I'm sure the two kids had something to do with this but I certainly haven't helped it either. You see, I was one of the lucky ones. Naturally thin. Could eat a reasonable amount of food without it immediately going to my stomach, thighs, or wherever else. But not anymore. My stomach is in a constant state of jello-like consistency (see it jiggle... watch it wiggle...). For months, I further slept-deprived myself by getting up at 6am to do an at-home workout DVD and saw little results for my stomach so I gave up. I'm not proud of that, but it's true. I'm not sure what to even do about it anymore.<br />
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A couple of days ago, I decided to enter a contest for one of my favorite shows, Project Runway. You had to submit a video telling them why you deserve a makeover. As I reviewed my iPhone video, I saw them. Wrinkles!! Creases at the corners of my eyes, lines across my forehead deepening, and laugh lines that the Joker would envy. Again, I have (or should I say had) been genetically blessed to look younger than my age but that seems to be disappearing too.<br />
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And then, yesterday, was the last straw. There are spider veins forming near my right knee. Tiny little lines laughing at me, giving another tell tale sign that my youth is behind me. *sigh*<br />
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The only good thing coming out of this 40 stuff is that I'm finally going to have a decent picture with Jon Bon Jovi (albeit with a lot more wrinkles) and not this one where I look like a crazy drowned rat and some random girl peeking over his shoulder in the background.<br />
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<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-70702004681013330102013-04-04T19:23:00.001-04:002013-04-04T19:23:53.800-04:00Safe Place, Safe PersonAs I've chronicled before, my 4-year old daughter and I can have days when we are like oil and water. Today is one of those days. It began when my husband left for Afghanistan and I could have sworn she would stop when he got home. But, here we are, six months later and the outbursts and insults continue. <br />
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Yesterday she had a very public meltdown in the middle of our street, literally. We went out to ride bikes and one of her friends was outside at the same time. After her friend went inside, the downward spiral began. "Mom, can I see if xxx wants to play?" Lucky me got to be the bearer of bad news -- they're doing homework, they're not home, they're playing somewhere else, etc. Then, she spotted some kids down the road and ran over to see what they were doing. She proceeded to run back to me, begging to go play. "Were you invited to play?" I asked (we have this conversation A LOT about not inviting yourself) and I got the usual "No... But they're my friends." It's hard to get a 4-year old to understand that sometimes kids don't want to include everyone. I'm not sure if it was her not being invited or me saying no but I was quickly on the receiving end of a lot of yelling and crying. After several attempts of being very calm and trying to get her to settle down, I told her I was going inside. Her meltdown continued for the neighbors to see, bike helmet still on her head. *sigh*<br />
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Today, I was on the receiving end of several comments including "you're so mean," "I wish dad stayed home instead of you," and "I want dad to take me bed every night not you." Psychologists and child 'experts' will tell you that kids are abusive (so to speak) to the person they know isn't going anywhere. Their "safe place." <br />
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As nice as it is to know that I'm her rock, I hate the abuse. I already feel like an "okay" mom and the negative comments don't help me feel like I'm winning Mother of the Year anytime soon. All they do is get me upset and angry to the point of silently cursing her in my head or making a strangling motion when her back is turned to me. <br />
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Please tell me I'm not the only one! <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vFxkJW5Pl0fyW9QSYDKTtEDh3vpbBcT5lIUoVI51ek4WIyWfxglrKfEH7ueyhmLbbT-Izy9Pn3oEQiIIt4Bm-62w0JqBCfnaDINgBIZDRBMl08vKx2-CtsLu51pXUh5vI0dmec9hmPk/s640/blogger-image--1698038896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vFxkJW5Pl0fyW9QSYDKTtEDh3vpbBcT5lIUoVI51ek4WIyWfxglrKfEH7ueyhmLbbT-Izy9Pn3oEQiIIt4Bm-62w0JqBCfnaDINgBIZDRBMl08vKx2-CtsLu51pXUh5vI0dmec9hmPk/s640/blogger-image--1698038896.jpg" /></a></div>Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-72674636325226439182013-03-19T17:21:00.001-04:002013-03-19T17:21:10.009-04:00A crisis of faithI've been debating posting this for long time now. It's been running in my head for months now, but I guess I've been scared to hear the comments, feel the backlash, and maybe even alienate friends and family. <br />
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You see, I was raised Catholic. Roman Catholic to be exact. I received all of my sacraments, went to CCD, and even got married in a Catholic church. I considered myself to be a Catholic the majority of my life. But now, I'm not so sure.<br />
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I've been participating in a Bible study with other Catholic women and to be honest, I've felt like an impostor. There are things in my life that directly contradict my religion. For example, I divorced my Catholic ex-husband. We never had marriage annulled. (Heck, I'm pretty sure that means that technically, I'm not part of the Catholic Church anymore.) Based on my personal beliefs, I'd most likely be categorized as a "Cafeteria Catholic." In reading the passages for the study, I keep coming back to the thought that religion in the Bible seems so much simpler than in real life. God put forth Ten Commandments, the golden rule (to treat others as you would want to be treated), and sent his Son to teach us how to be good, God-loving people. But religion gas given us so many other rules to follow.<br />
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As I've mentioned before, I'm an avid reader of the blog <a href="http://www.momastery.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Momastery</a>. Amidst its silly stories about parenting, heart wrenching tales of people in need, and observations about everyday life there is a central theme -- Love wins. <br />
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Momastery has taken on a life of its own. It isn't just words on a screen, but a community of women who loves everyone, as they would themselves. Who donate money via <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/2013/03/05/love-flash-mob/" target="_blank">love flash mobs</a> to complete strangers because those strangers are in need and these women have the means to help. Who truly believe that love is all around even when you are so far down, you can't believe it still exists. <br />
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In a lot of ways, that is what I want my church to be. A place full of compassion, giving, and God's love no matter who you are.<br />
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Both of my kids have been baptized Catholic, despite my husband not being a Catholic himself. They have godparents and go to CCD and maybe in the end, that's how it will stay. Maybe I'll remain a Cafeteria Catholic and watch them partake in the same sacraments I did. I'm not really sure. <br />
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I will continue to follow God's Commandments and the Golden Rule, to thank Him every day for the health, happiness, and safety of myself, my husband, my children, and my friends and family. Right now, that's all I know. Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-12235252476213545022013-02-13T12:22:00.001-05:002013-02-13T12:22:30.393-05:00Forty daysI'm Catholic and it's Lent. Naturally, the guilt has kicked in and I've been thinking of what I can give up for the season. I racked my brain for a few days with little result. Then, I was at a meeting with other Catholic women and we talked about Lent and how it doesn't mean having to give up something, it can be an opportunity to give to others or to improve your life. With that said, I'm going with improving my life by stopping swearing. I told my husband my plan last night and he said "Shouldn't you choose something you KNOW you can do?"<br />
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He has a point. I don't think I'm a potty mouth by any means, but when I get angry or upset, they certainly flow with ease. But I've decided to (try and) put and end to it. This will include all the regular curse words and some of the substitute ones (like frickin'). In truth, I'm doing it not just for me, but for my kids. <br />
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<i>Side story: My 4-year old has used frickin' twice. Once, when she came in our room to wake us up and said "Ugh... I can't turn this frickin' fan off" and then again when I took her to a kids' haircut place and she said "There's TVs frickin' everywhere." We've since had the talk about how that is not a kid word. </i><br />
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So, here's to trying! Hopefully I won't end up like this instead:<br />
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<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-62782720592209288022013-01-25T18:05:00.002-05:002013-01-25T18:06:48.144-05:00A blessing and a curseI don't know about you, but the holidays were crazy around here. We live in a four-bedroom townhouse style home. It's not large by any means, but it holds us (and all our stuff) pretty well. This being our first Christmas back within driving distance of our family, I knew it was going to be crazy. I had the kids do a pre-Christmas <a href="http://mylifeneedsaneasybutton.blogspot.com/2012/12/christmas-is-for-giving.html" target="_blank">purge</a> (thank you Elf on the Shelf) which emptied the toy room considerably and freed up lots of space in their toy box.<br />
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But then Christmas came. Despite my pleas to the three sets of grandparents to keep it under control, the kids got a lot of stuff. And I mean A LOT. We are blessed with a very generous family.</div>
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My husband and I didn't ask for anything except money to put toward an iPad. We wound up with a refurbished model from Apple which is turning out to be a blessing and a curse. It is definitely helping me to save my phone battery and is much easier on my 39-year old eyes when browsing websites or playing games. However, it's a curse because it's just one more thing for the kids to fight over. </div>
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Sam has had an iPod for years so she's accustomed to navigating it, knowing how the apps work, etc. She's darn tech savvy for being four. Danny on the other hand wants to play with it but doesn't have the ability to do it well. In the middle of watching Mickey Mouse, he hits the home button and the show ends. Tears ensue. I've tried finding more age friendly apps, but I'm coming up short. </div>
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All technology is really a blessing and a curse though, isn't it? In a world where you can instantly communicate with someone, you also expect them to instantly communicate back. I've found myself staring at my phone thinking <i>What could you possibly be doing? This is important! </i>But really, was it that important? Nobody was dying. I wasn't in a car crash. I just needed to know if we needed more milk so I didn't have to make a second trip.</div>
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And then there are the expectations of social media -- sympathy for your crappy day, compliments on a new pair of shoes, for people to agree with your political views, birthday wishes, etc. What it gets us instead is a cyber-fight or at it's best, a new perspective.</div>
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(On a side note, somehow I got sucked into Instagram and follow a few celebs. Sometimes I wonder if they feel like their lives are a blessing and a curse. On one side you have the money and the recognition and on the other you have people you don't even know calling you ugly, evil or a myriad of other insults.)</div>
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One of my New Year's wishes was to try and be less "connected" -- separate myself from the iPhone more often, stop compulsively checking Facebook, only play my game apps a few times a day -- and try to connect more to those I love in person. It's a work in progress, but at least I'm making progress. Hopefully it will be more of a blessing than a curse.<br />
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PS -- Speaking of those we love, I got an unexpected present on Christmas Eve. My very own easy button, courtesy of my dad. I guess he reads this afterall! Love you dad xoxo</div>
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Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-53967379532288400272012-12-17T10:26:00.001-05:002012-12-17T10:29:17.485-05:00This 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. <br />
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* 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? <br />
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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?<br />
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* 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. <br />
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* 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. <br />
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* 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. <br />
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* 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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Imagine what an amazing country we would live in if we did that everyday. Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-23752242519698780362012-12-05T14:13:00.001-05:002012-12-05T14:14:26.407-05:00Christmas is for givingDespite 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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The letter is kind of cheesy, but <a href="https://docs.google.com/open?id=0B3E0PNGJuggqeWVBS1RyQUs2N1E" target="_blank">here it is</a> in case anyone else wants to use it. Obviously, Santa still needs to sign it. You can get your own Santa sack <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/115286626/toys-for-santa-bag-large-bag-to-collect" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<br />Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-72089414473654642512012-10-15T09:15:00.001-04:002012-10-15T09:15:50.722-04:00100 to zero and back againAh, 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!<br />
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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?<br />
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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?<br />
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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. <br />
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Maybe I'm not back at 100. But definitely at least 92. Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-58695436534406383812012-09-09T21:31:00.001-04:002012-09-09T21:32:07.678-04:00The "talk"About two weeks ago, I had a <i>very</i> awkward conversation with my 4-year old daughter, Samantha, over lunch. It went something like this:<br />
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Sam: "Mommy, you grew me in your belly, right?"<br />
Me: "Yes."<br />
S: "And you grew Danny in your belly."<br />
Me: "Yes."<br />
S: "And you grew Daddy in your belly."<br />
Me: "No. I did not grow Daddy. Grandma K did."<br />
S: "Oh. So, Nana grew you in her belly?"<br />
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(And this is where it gets awkward...)<br />
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Me: "No. Grandma A did."<br />
S: "No Mommy, Nana did."<br />
Me: "No Sammy, Grandma A did."<br />
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(She's clearly not following this conversation at this point. And them my feeble attempt to explain adoption went something like this...)<br />
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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."<br />
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(Still looking confused...)<br />
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Me: "Grandma A grew me but Nana and Grandpa raised me, so they are my Mommy and Daddy."<br />
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(Long pause...)<br />
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S: "But you definitely didn't grow Daddy."<br />
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Ah, 4-year old conversations...Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-46724834751151850772012-09-07T09:27:00.001-04:002012-09-07T09:27:33.628-04:00The constant compromise of meI 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
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Life will go on -- I just wish it was simpler. Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-29089667342712431252012-08-22T15:04:00.001-04:002013-03-25T15:42:06.284-04:00Weekly wake-up callMy 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. <br />
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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. <br />
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I hope the universe sends you a reminder of how blessed you are!<br />
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-64374436803337782742012-07-16T21:49:00.000-04:002012-07-16T21:49:12.005-04:00The second time aroundYou 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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).<br />
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What am I not remembering????Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-60059149037665947672012-07-13T06:59:00.001-04:002012-07-13T06:59:22.714-04:00Don't take it personallyI'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:<br />
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- I don't want to live with you. I want to live with... (grandma, aunt/uncle, nana, etc)<br />
- You're a bad mommy<br />
- You don't love me all the time<br />
- This house is yucky and it's your fault<br />
- But it didn't hurt, he's not crying (in response to being yelled at for hitting her brother with a toy)<br />
- You're mean, you won't play with me (not true btw)<br />
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Then there were the countless times she pushed or hit her brother, stuck her tongue out at me or misbehaved in some other way. <br />
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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. <br />
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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. <br />
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-12943771291267008462012-06-30T21:37:00.000-04:002012-06-30T21:37:16.189-04:00Is it them or is it us?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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). </div>
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Anyway, I got to thinking today -- is the real problem <u>them</u> or is it <u>us</u>?</div>
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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? <i>Maybe</i> 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?</div>
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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?</div>
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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?</div>
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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 ;)<br />
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<i>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 <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/" target="_blank">Momastery</a> blog or follow it on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Momastery/178909129709" target="_blank">Facebook</a>.</i>Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-90834656846339124162012-06-27T22:11:00.000-04:002012-06-27T22:11:56.512-04:00It's just routineJust 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.<br />
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But what happens when the routine turns on you?<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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?<br />
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Ah the mundane yet critical decisions of parenting...Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-83491606841825599692012-06-15T21:47:00.001-04:002012-06-15T21:47:49.634-04:00I 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. <br />
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Be you. <br />
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.<br />
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Don't try to change anyone. <br />
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.<br />
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Be honest. <br />
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.<br />
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Stand up for yourself. <br />
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.<br />
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Stand up for others. <br />
Not everyone has the strength to do for themselves. It's okay to do it for them until they can find their strength. <br />
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Be kind. <br />
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. <br />
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Trust your gut. <br />
Even when the decision seems right in your mind or your heart, listen to your gut. It will never steer you wrong.<br />
<br />
Have faith. <br />
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. <br />
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Know you are loved. <br />
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. <br />
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3496494428657945919.post-70269397776704948832012-06-09T18:01:00.001-04:002012-06-09T23:02:13.566-04:00My heart hurtsDeployments 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. <br />
<br />
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. <br />
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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. <br />
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I can't stop her heart from hurting and I can't stop mine either. <br />
Traceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16051269603729826671noreply@blogger.com0