I used to dream about growing up and getting married. In my young mind, one day I’d meet this amazing, handsome man and we’d get married and have children and live in a nice little house in a nice little town and be happy. And that was about all the depth of thought I put into it. I thought I would stumble into this happy life. Turns out, happy marriages and happy families and happy lives have to be grown. Growing a happy marriage takes work, just like growing a garden. (And if you don’t think I know about how much work that takes, give this post a read!)
I recently read this post about how bloggers set unrealistic expectations for wives and mothers in much the same way the pornography industry does, except we do it to the minds of women while typically porn is targeted toward men.
Literally, right after closing it, I saw a blog post about how a woman went 366 days without duplicating her outfit. (I won’t link it because I’m not trying to bash her or her blog. I am a blogger and know it’s hard enough without everyone picking on you.) I don’t have enough clothes to make it 30 days if I started wearing t-shirts over pajamas!
This was originally a guest post over at Love, Life, Laugh, Motherhood. I am about to embark on my second potty training excursion and thought I’d repost it here in honor of the dreaded feat. Did I mention, I hate potty training?
Today I wanted to share with you my very biggest fear going into Motherhood and how I managed to jump that hurdle. Potty Training. Yikes. Still makes me a little nervous just saying the words! It’s been over a year since I first started potty training my first child and I would say we’ve finally arrived. He can now completely take himself #1 without me even having to even know that he “has to go.” It’s amazing. #2 is another story…
Parenting is no picnic. But total strangers seem to think you want their potato salad.
I’m about to go on a rant. You’ve been warned.
What is wrong with our world?
Do you know what it was like for our parents to raise us? Or their parent’s to raise them? Or their parents to raise them? And back and back and back since the dawn of time?! Ok, so, neither do I back that far…but the point is, for all of recent history, parenting has been the big gig.
It was the whole point of existing.
Since having baby #3, I’ve realized that our bodies are incredible. Actually, I realized that as a first time mom, but now I realize how incredibly adaptable they are! My birth experiences have changed with each child but the biggest differences I’ve noticed are the after effects – healing, milk production, etc. Things have definitely been different with each of my sons, some for the better, some for the worse. For those of you that are a first time mom, read on to find out what you may have to look forward to with subsequent babies. For the rest of you, let me know how you relate.
We often talk about the “true meaning of Christmas” and “remembering the reason for the season” this time of year. The New Testament’s telling of Jesus’ birth is known as “The Christmas Story.” While Santa and commercialism and the consumer drive have tried to take over the holiday, most people still know what Christmas is “really about.” We celebrate Christmas every year to celebrate that Jesus Christ was born. But I would like to argue that Christmas isn’t important because He was born; Christmas is important because of everything He did afterwards.
I’m here today to talk to you about how to minimize extended family gifts. For those of you more interested in MAXIMIZING said gifts, move on. You are in the wrong frame of mind to even understand why I would write such craziness. But thanks for clicking on a title you had little interest in. Your support is astounding. 🙂 (P.S. I totally understand where you’re coming from sometimes too! I like other people to get my kids (or me) stuff.)
I’m going to focus mainly on extended family gifts given to our children because not many people complain about getting gifts for themselves. We’re parents. We’ve earned the right for a little duplicity haven’t we?
This post (titled I’m Not My Mother) originally posted on The Daliah Scene a few months ago. I’d still suggest going to check out her excellent site. It has undergone a few minor changes since then so read on for my Ideas of Motherhood.
While growing up, I had grand ideas of motherhood. My mom raised 7 children and seemed to hardly break a sweat! We grew up very rural (like, completely in the country, on a cattle ranch) so we didn’t have any opportunities to take dance classes or soccer. That was one of the changes I thought I might make with my own children because I firmly believed I would grow up to live in middle-class suburbia. Otherwise, I expected I would do everything very much the way my own mom did.
3 Core Beliefs that Change Everything – It’s about to get religious.
I’ve never gotten very religious on here. I guess I felt it wasn’t the place. But do you know what I decided? Everywhere is the place, and that other attitude might be a contributing factor in the decline of our World’s values.
So I’m going to get religious.
But only a little.
It’s gonna be a new thing though. When I feel like writing something about my beliefs, I’m going to. Because my religion is probably a bigger part of what makes me who I am as a person and as a parent than any other single contributing factor in my life.
So after this post and this post, I suppose it’s not a secret that I’ve had a few struggles with depression through the years. It took a long time to admit it. I fought against thoughts of suicide for as long as I can remember, long before I even knew that “depression” was a thing. I can remember being 5 years old and screaming at my siblings that I would kill myself when they were being extra mean. What 5 year old even knows that you can? Apparently, me.
Now, I know that thoughts of suicide can vary widely for each person experiencing them. I know the reasons behind the thoughts vary. I know that mine is probably a very strange thought process compared to most.