Get behind me fever!!! 

The girls are at an age where they are self sufficient. 

Shorty can pick out her own clothes, take care of basic hygiene, and can self entertain. 

Namaste with Shorty

Tiny can walk, talk and is in the early stages of reading. 

I can read!


This is a glorious stage! They’re big enough to pitch in! Just today Shorty asked to help make dinner. Tiny helped me put up the breakfast dishes… I should be in heaven, right?!

So why, why, WHY do I melt when I see chubby cheeks and toothless grins?!!! 

This makes no sense whatsoever! I’m not even a “baby” type Mom. I like independence. I like it when they can tell me what is wrong.(aka toddlerhood)
But man, oh man, tiny fingers and toes are working me over good!!!

The drool, the big eyes, the tiny fingers and toes are like a big old bag of kryptonite to me right now. 

Sooooo what’s a mother to do?  That’s right… it’s time to borrow baby! 

 After a few hours of babysitting I’ll have my fix and I’ll help out a new mama in the process. 
Any takers?!

The day Shorty disappeared

It’s the day every parent dreads… the day your little ones aren’t so little, and don’t need you quite as much.

For me, that “day” has been slowly building for months now, but the chickens came home to roost last week, and I was NOT prepared!

She’s only 8, with a birthday just around the bend!  Is it really time for the ‘parental disconnect?’

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Here’s how it went down:

It began as any other day. I grabbed Shorty from school and made the bee line to the library.

(Side note: we typically kill time before soccer practice by going to the library after school on, Monday, Tuesday & Thursdays.)

Back to the story—Shorty, in her ever-growing independence asks if she can walk to our homework spot alone.  The walk involves a trip up two flights of steps.  I cringed when the question was popped, but I thought it over and gave in.  I mean, we were only going to the third floor right?  What’s the worst that can happen?

So, I put on my big girl pants, watched her walk to the stairwell, pushed the elevator button to the third floor and rode to the top.  When the elevator door opened, I hopped off,  copped a table, and sat in front of the stairwell door.  I waited, and waited, aaaannnnddd waited for what was likely a minute, but felt like an eternity,  then it happened….I heard tears coming from the stairwell. Familiar tears. My baby’s tears!!! That’s when I panicked!

I ran over to the stair well and began frantically looking for my child, “Shorty?!” “SHOOOOORRRRRTTTTYYYY!!!” No answer and more importantly, no sign of shorty!

Now I’m in total come apart mode… Where did she go?  Did someone snatch her? Is she hurt?  Think, think, think!!!  What if she stopped by the second floor to say hi to her little classmate?!  Yeah, that must be it!  So, off I ran to the second floor to find said classmate! When I found her, I asked her if she’d seen her?

Pregnant pause…. “No ma’am”

*worlds colliding, volcano erupting, mom convulsing*

This is not good!

*Cue the scared mama tears!*

I rush over to the second floor librarian’s desk to see if they’ve seen her: Nada.

Now I’m running toward the stairwell!  Next stop, first floor!

In what seemed like an eternity I make it to the bottom, and I head straight toward the information desk,  my heart drops. No Shorty!

That is until I turn to my left to see her standing, visibly shaken, near a well dressed man. My spider senses are going crazy at this point guys.  Who is this dude?! Why is she crying?! How quickly can I take this guy down?!

While I’m checking off my mom-Kung fu checklist, she waddles over to me with arms outstretched and tears in her eyes and gives me the biggest hug I’ve received in months.

Through tear-stained eyes she tells me returned to the first floor after she was unable to open the door to third floor stairwell.

She returned to the first floor only after remembering what I’d told her as a small child: return to the front, find an adult, and wait.

At this point I’m relieved but horrified at the same time. I’m happy she remembered what I told her but I’m upset at my parenting fail. How soon is too soon to downsize helicopter parenting?  How old is old enough to walk alone?
I dunno folks. I need help here. I’ve been kicking myself for days about this situation, so please, feel free to weigh in while I commit myself to the corner to calm my nerves.

The first 30 days

Three weeks: 21 days…that’s the magic number scientists once thought it took to create a new habit.  For years I heard people share this age old addage, and think to myself “I must be broken.”  The only thing I seem to be able to accomplish in three weeks is anticipation of when it’s over: don’t judge.

30 days from now, the first half of 2016 will be complete.  Let that sink in for a moment.  By July 1st, 2016 will be barreling toward “Back to school” sales, Halloween costumes, and of course Yuletide joy.

I’ve accomplished alot in the first half.  I quit my job, and started my own business.  I taught Shorty how to swim, with Tiny currently learning.  I bought a new car, and learned how to properly hem pants.  All in all I’m feeling pretty confident about the direction by professional life is taking.

My personal life, on the other hand is a whole other story.

My main New Year’s Resolution was to become a better spouse to Captain.  While I’m not a horrible wife, I most definitely am not a winner winner chicken dinner 100% of the time.  Heck, I’d wager it’s more like 75% and that’s being gracious. (if you’re reading this, sorry Captain)

I also resolved to become a healthier me.  While I have certainly moved a lot more this year (due in part to not having to work overnight and keep odd hours) I most certainly have not secured the spot for being the best me I can be, ya dig?

So, starting today I’m taking some of these bigger resolutions and breaking them down into monthly installments.

I’ll journal my progress here, so get ready.

Month 1 obective: A healthier me
Focus: Nutrition

 

 

When expectations and reality collide

The truth is, when things were going good, they were really, really good.

When things are bad…they’re horrible.

This month has been a roller coaster of sorts.  I told you guys about the death of a precious family member.

I also told you I’ve grown bored with cooking, and food in general.

So here I sit, at a quarter til four on a Sunday afternoon, struggling to calm my spirit. My dishwasher went caput; I’m getting more interest in my photography endeavors; I’ve received more interest from employers, this week, than I have in months.

Sounds like everything is on the up and up, right?  So why am I so antsy?

The truth is, I’m finding some pretty important truths in the following saying…

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I’ve spent the past few weeks mulling over the fact that I didn’t have enough “mad money,” so I started applying for part-time/flexible jobs to help infuse some cash into the situation.  But you and I both know, hindsight is 20/20, right?

Background:

I apply for a job at a pretty corporate company and I receive not one but two interviews! Being the awesome person that I am, I rocked them both.  Unfortunately reality quickly brought me back down to earth: child for Tiny, homework duties for Shorty, all parental obligations and responsibilities will all take on different meanings with both parents back in the regular workforce.  It’s a reality we’ve not had to consider for three years.   And my business, well it would simply have to wait…right?

Wrong!

I’ve always done the “appropriate” thing, followed the rules no matter how stupid, remained as conservative as possible, that is, until now.

Corporate America will have to wait.  This may be the one time in my life I can afford to take a risk without rocking the boat.

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With that being said, stay tuned as we set sail on a new type of adventure.  One where CG is in the captain’s seat and a few mates on deck.

Stay tuned