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My 4 Words for Motherhood are Relentless, Chaos, Perseverance, & Confusion. But motherhood would never ask you to not be you. It asks you to be a better you. To be brave, to impress, and to trust yourself. To make a plan you’d be proud to accomplish and then stay the course and see what happens. Even in Summer! You are the best mother when you rise up be a hero for both them and you. Being human, falling down and getting back up is a very noble process and one we owe ourselves and our children a chance to see us grab and run with.
We have a tradition of making cards for Valentines Day, as well as Christmas. Eamon draws something and then I run off enough copies to hand out to his class mates plus additional loved ones. I have to say that this year’s V-Day offering is brilliant. Something got stuck in his head from a book…
For months I’ve been saying I was going to pack my hospital bag by the first of February. And install the car seats. And wash the baby clothing. That and the packing of the famous bag. Some sort of pivotal tasks in the pregnant lady’s inevitable future. All those baby musts hanging over my head…
A couple of weeks after I gave birth to my son, my husband routinely would ask me “On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel ?” My mental state was in question and I remember standing by the garden in those first weeks and answering,”About a 4″ . And then eventually, I remember…
On the phone recently, my Mom recounted a story about the last time I had a baby. She laughed as she told her version of that fateful day in the delivery room. Her portrayal of me as a labor room dictator was slightly unsettling. Stories can be both comforting and unsettling. Storytelling impacts, creates, and…
It was just one of those extended parenting weekends. I knew it was coming. I tried to pad it with play dates. But there’s something about the combo of the Daddy cat being gone that makes the mouse want to play knick knack paddy whack on Mommy’s nerves. Those long weekends are like a sentence…
Yes, today marks Noah’s Ark Day. Officially 40 days and 40 nights until the due date of little “Twitchy”, as projected by the lovely sonogram-ologist in that first trimester. The closer the date comes, the further it gets. A very wise woman I know theorized, the only way you’d get the pregnant women to the…
The avoidance of doing things we have to do emerged as a theme this week at my house. Our reasons for avoidance seemed to include anticipation of pain and discomfort, lack of clarity, lack of priorities, and fear. And a little I don’t like to be told what to do. Whether on paper or in…
For too many years, my world was about going it alone. About making ends meet. And not letting anyone in. They might have seen I was really just surviving. I was faking it without making it. Yet, the one time it feels essential to be surrounded by women folk is when a baby is destined…
I began to feel panicky. I only had a crib, a mattress, and a blanky. Yes, there are numerous boxes of years’ worth of boys clothing in the attic. But we don’t know if we’re even having a boy. I had nary a nappy or bottle or binky in the house and I was 32…
We had difficulty naming the first baby and we seem to be having more with the second. And the husband not wanting to know the gender of the baby has put more than just a small twist in this game. I may have told you this but you can’t stop me anyway from telling you…
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