Rudolph and the Angels

I've been experiencing what you might call a crisis of faith the last few months. With the approach of Christmas, the elements of this crisis were brought into sharp focus for me. I tried to help my kids understand the importance of giving as we prepared gifts and baked goods for others, bought items for children in need, and cheered them on as they chose some of their own gifts to give this year. They also got to make their own lists, of course, because part of what I wanted this year was for them to have gifts that made them happy. It's been a tough fall with moving and settling into a new neighborhood and new schools. We had hoped to have our basement remodeled by now, but it's not happening as fast as we'd like, so the kids are all still sharing one room. So did I overcompensate for all that by buying more toys than usual? You bet.

The Hawk

Since moving to the country, I’ve had the chance to reflect on a great many things. I’ve had as much quiet and solitude as my children will afford me. This has led to both small and large breakthroughs for me. I’ve found perhaps the first kind of peace I’ve ever known, as I’ve been able to really and truly relax with no neighbors for whom I need to perform. One thing I’ve found, though, is that when stress leaves your body, the adrenaline and cortisol go with them. This means that you are dog-shit tired a lot of the time. I’ve also had physical aches and pains, which I think are partly due to the reduction in stress hormones, but also feeling new pain that I haven’t felt before.

As I wrote last time, when my parents left, the reality of our relationship hit me. I realized that these were people who didn’t stand up for me, and who didn’t support me or even know me in any kind of real way. I hurt all over for days. I thought it was just the pain of feeling this loss, but I now realize it was more than that. As a child and as an adult, I’ve acquired the belief that I’m supposed to be able to handle whatever comes along.

The road less traveled by...unfortunately.

How do you choose the life you're going to live? Were you someone who did what you were told? Who did what was expected of you? Or did you always strike out on your own path, making your own way in life? 


I was one of those first kind of people. I was, according to all accounts, a well-behaved, compliant little girl. I did what I was told, and did what was expected of me. I worried and felt guilty when I didn't. I thought my parents knew best, and could always be depended upon for help and the answers to problems.


Today, I've just said goodbye after a visit with two parents who I thought I loved more than anything and who could do no wrong--who always had my back. Then, something happened--I'll call it the yucky stuff for now. I don't want to write about that now, but something happened that caused me to be profoundly disappointed in these two people--in their conduct and, sadly, in their character. 

Time to Move On

That song by Tom Petty, "Time to Move On" keeps running around my brain. We are moving this week, from a house we love to one we hope we love even more. I can't wait to get there--I feel like I'm finally going home, at the ripe old age of 42.

It's interesting when you tell people you're going to move. We didn't tell anyone in our neighborhood that we were looking for a house. People kind of write you off as soon as you tell them that. They don't mean to, but subconsciously they do it anyway. Eventually, though, we figured we'd better say something before the moving truck showed up, so we told the neighbors. Reactions ranged from sadness to snarkiness to just no response at all. Some neighbors that we've known for 8 years haven't said a word to

"Sick Day"

Both of my little men got the stomach flu last week--thankfully not at the same time, but in sequentia (that's probably not a word, but I like the way it sounds). Either because I dealt with most of their bodily emanations or because my immune system is nil due to my chronic sleep-deprived status, or maybe for both reasons, I came down with said flu over the weekend. Only problem was that I had to take 5 Brownies to a sleepover at a local venue on Saturday night. Yep. Hundreds of Girl Scouts and me--Pukey Mama. I could feel it coming on all day Saturday and tried to will it away. My sweet girl had a basketball party and I guilted Papa Bear into going, even though attending such an event alone is akin to having bamboo spears thrust under his fingernails, because I knew I couldn't make it to the party and the sleepover that night without a major system malfunction occurring. 

Gimme some sugar...

Took my guys to Mickey D’s today. We try not to make a habit of fast food, but sometimes it’s what you need to do in a pinch, and sometimes, let’s face it, it just sounds good.

We do try to eat healthy at home, though, and encourage healthy habits when we’re out. I used to just order the healthy side with the fast food meal without when my little men were too little to know what their options were. Once they gained some knowledge of the fast-food world, however, they started jonesing for French fries now and again. Over time, though, they reverted back to choosing the healthier options on their own—nirvana.

Today, the brain surgeons working at the local fast-food establishment got our order wrong, and put fries instead of fruit in the bag for my #1 son. Said #1 son wanted his fruit instead, so I zipped back around the building, cut off a very nice lady in a red Cadillac, and pulled back into the drive-through to get my boy his fruit.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Cute

In my academic life, I learned a lot about kids' development. I learned about reflexes, brain development, attachment--the whole shebang. I also learned about personality development (or temperament as it's usually called). You can usually tell within the first few months what your baby's tendencies will be--for example, does he or she seem sensitive to bright lights, loud noises, etc.? Is the baby more active or more quiet? With my first two kids, I paid close attention to their development, making sure they hit their milestones on time, watching their progression through the stages of cognitive and emotional development I had learned about.

With my third child, who came along quickly after my second, I didn't have the luxury of time to observe him. I felt overwhelmed with three kids under the age of 6 (which might seem manageable to some, but not to me:) and spent my days putting out one fire or another with not much time to enjoy my little guy. When he was between about 1 and 1 1/2, we went through our toughest period. He is very

Hair days, hair days, good ol' golden hair days...

So I was thinking about my hair today--not unusual for someone like me who's struggled to make peace with her hair most of her life. Growing up in the South with curly hair--not pretty, my friend. I cut it short, grew it long, pulled it back, wore it down, bangs, no bangs, you name it. In the late 70's and early 80's, the Farrah Fawcett look was all the rage; "feathering," we called it. My hair didn't feather. The best I could do were two sausage rolls on either side of my head. But I wore it that way every day, rain or shine. When I went to college, I stopped wearing makeup most days and stopped "doing" my hair most days as well. I finally took the advice of a boyfriend who suggested that I grow my bangs and wear it naturally curly. That hairdo outlasted that boyfriend, which was a good thing. It was also something that attracted my husband to me--also a good thing. When I graduated and started working, I thought I needed "grownup" hair, so I started cutting it short again in a style I called "First Lady" hair. It also sometimes looked like the "brown football helmet" referenced in the film, "Steel Magnolias."

Out of the frying pan, into the fire!

This blog is something I've been pondering for a while now--so long, that I've grown older in the pondering. But each day I get older, each day I also find there's less time to waste. So, here I am--out of the frying pan, into the fire. Since I had my third kid two years ago, that kinda describes my life anyway.

So, a little bit about me:
Mom of three (but you probably figured that out already) amazing, smart, lively kids who leave me totally deep fried at the end of the day:).
Raised in the South but currently living in the West. Some days I hate snow--really, really hate it.
Recovering academic who left full-time teaching for the comparatively relaxing job of SAHM--hah!
Currently chasing after said 3 kids, teaching part-time, leading a Brownie troop, and trying to find my sanity in the 10 minutes or so left over at the end of the day.

Sound familiar? Then I hope we'll have lots to talk about!