Borderline OCD...No border about it

As I find myself this week preparing for a move from one home to another, I realized while taking a moment to rest from the incessant chore of packing, that I might be a bit OCD. 

O.k., I'll give you a moment to gather yourself and stop laughing.  Catch your breath and wipe the tears from you eyes. Did you hurt yourself when you fell off the chair from laughing so hard?  Yes I know....referring to myself as a "bit OCD" is like calling cotton candy a little bit sweet or ammonia a little bit pungent. An understatement for sure, but sometimes it good to be humble, even about our idiosyncrasies.

Moving on....

I realized in this moment of epiphany that  packing 3-6 weeks ahead might be a bit obsessive. But its the only way I can sleep at night. 

Making matters all the more disturbing is the fact that as I packed my video library, I did it in such a way as to not compromise it's beautiful organization.  Yes my DVD's are all packed alphabetically, as are my books by genre.

I know this need to find control in the little things in my life must be a pshychiatrist dream to decipher and define. But its simple really....I like structure and space. Everything has its place and a place for everything.

We take possession of keys to the next house on the 8th but we wont actually live there until the 22nd. This will allow us time to prepare the back yard to prevent a wiener dog escape, time for me to clean what most people would consider an already clean house, to a clean that meets my needs of course.  It will give us time to transition, move in stages, put things away, and then move some more.

It's funny, I can't live out of boxes when I get to where I am going to be, I can't even fall asleep that first night if there is yet a box waiting, but I can't sleep where I am at now either unless the boxes are full and waiting to go.

It's a conundrum, I know. Buts it all makes sense to me. I am a planner, not a procrastinator. I see the big picture, but sometimes get mired in the muck of the details. Moving with me, can be stressful, but it can be easy too. I do all the pre-work. All you have to do is load it up, load it in, and leave me to put it all away.

I think I need a bottle of wine,  not to worry......I know exactly what box I packed it in. :)

Research Studies Show.........

Every morning as the alarm begins its familiar pattern of waking me up with a snooze button set at 9 minute intervals, I reach for the remote to turn on the morning news. In this age of economic instability, budget crisis, national debt ceilings, and unemployment, should it be surprising that the government continues to fund studies for research of information which is already logical and known?  Time and again we hear the story as it begins with the familiar...."Recent studies show...", or "Researcher have found....". I shake my head most times and wonder...Really?....Really!...Now there is something new. NOT!

Did you know that more than $3 million dollars was dedicated to a study watching shrimp run on a treadmill. It was all in the name of science they said as they tried to determine the effects of bacteria on mobility and the preservation of crustacean in the seas as the little guys run away from predators. Important?...I guess, maybe if your a shrimp.

An astounding $315,000 was spent researching rather or not playing games like Farmville on Facebook could lead to meaningful and lasting friendships.  O.k....REALLY!?  This is just stupid. Truth is, I'm more likely to UNfriend someone who nags me with game requests than I am to form a lasting bond with them.  The results of the study eventually proved just that, that friendships were not enhanced or fostered by the games. Well, duh?  You could have paid me the $315,000 and I could have told you that without all the wasted time and effort.

Other studies show shocking things like...

• High Heels Can make your feet hurt - conducted on a target pool of 3300 men and women with what....4000 years of history to back it up!...........
• Going Bald can be upsetting - 43% of men polled were concerned about their attractiveness, 37%  worried about getting older, 22% were anxious about the impact it would have on their social life, 21%  were depressed by it and 62% percent believed it could impact their self-esteem....and we spent how much on this study????.....Thanks for the surprising results!.........
• And one of my favorites....Employees Hate Meetings???? Oh my gosh...stop the press...this needs to be a front page story.....The study showed that most employees thought that even if meetings could be informative, they were more likely to be dreadful, unnecessary bore-fests that seem to last a lifetime. And there are too many of them. Interestingly enough, the research proves, a painstaking meeting schedule has the worst effect on the employee who is most dedicated and productive.  They start to feel stress and bogged down. Slackers, on the other hand, love meetings because they get to yack with coworkers, avoid dreaded to-do lists, and basically kill time until 5:00

My point is,  there are thousands, hundreds of thousand of studies being conducted and funded all in the name of research every minute of every day and funded by federal grants/programs/dollars....simply in the end to tell us the most mundane and logical results we already know or simply don't care about.

One week research shows red meat is bad for me, and the next its good. One week drinking wine is good for my heart nad the next its going to kill me.  Research shows dogs bond more closely with their owners than cats (tell that to a cat person..).

If we are going to fund research, lets focus our funds that are useful to mankind.  A cure for cancer, aids, lupus....Ecological footprint reduction and sustainable resources, saving the polar icecaps, or preventing the extinction of a wildlife species endangered because humans are like a global plague infecting every piece of open land on the planet. 

If they really must continue to pay for useless research, I volunteer to be the first stop for every question posed. If I can provide the same conclusion as the eventual study, then I propose that I receive the full funding in my bank account. I like that idea...... 

Fixing Me....

They say one mans garbage is another mans treasure, and its true.

This isn't to say that I view myself as ANYONE"s garbage, only that we are all treasures to someone, sometimes we just have to follow our hearts and let fate take us where we belong.

I spent most of my childhood and early adulthood "broken". I never quite felt as if I belonged.  Friendships were easy to come by, but difficult to sustain.  I suffered from low self esteem and a fear of never being loved. As a child, I was the poor kid, from the wrong side of town, and I didn't fit in. The dysfunction and fractured core of my family and childhood left its scars. I grew up unable to truly create bonds with people, but seeking them out desperately. When I found one, I would hang on so tightly, with all my might, that I smothered it with insecurity and doubt. I was always waiting for the next person to leave me and was positive that everyone in my life came with one foot out the door. By my late teens, I learned to break the ties first. It was too painful waiting for someone I cared about to walk out on me so.... I became a professional at the preemptive strike and at sabotaging friendships before they could break my heart.  When I finally graduated high school at 17 and then married my first husband at 19, I couldn't wait to leave my childhood and the world and people I knew behind. I never knew how much I would miss those connections someday. I saw myself as disposable and thus everyone around me was disposable as well.

Like I said...I was broken....and I knew it, I felt it, and I feared I would never be fixed.

The end of my first marriage and the circumstances behind it, only served to further shatter my spirit.  I carried a deep seeded belief that I was not worthy or able of being loved. I had striven for perfection believing that if I was good enough, perfect enough, thin enough, kind enough, passive enough, enough...enough..enough... that I could earn the love I so wanted and desired.

My second marriage, although a direct and clear contrast to my first, ended after 13 years in a pile of rubble. But something happened in that time........This ending was different. Though I entered the relationship broken, torn into a million pieces scattered in the wind, when I left,  I emerged something different.  A phoenix reborn. Somewhere along the way, my spirit began to fix itself. I can't pinpoint the exact moment that the mending began, but without any doubt, I know it was directly attributable to motherhood and the unconditional and unlimited love of my children. Their presence in my world gave me purpose and focus and direction. For the first time in my life I was not competing for love, or seeking it out, it was all around me in everything they did and said everyday.

The broken me that I had always known, was fusing its cracks, reinforcing layer upon layer, becoming whole and strong and courageous. I found strength where once there was weakness, and wisdom and sight where once there was blindness. I became something more than I ever dreamed, and I realized it was always there, beneath the surface, waiting for me to embrace it.

I went through life, meek, passive, always seeking approval and validation from others. I pretended to be strong when necessary, but behind closed doors and shuttered windows, I fell apart. An oozing pile of emotions and fear. It took me nearly 40 years to find myself. To find my courage, my hope, my strength, and my independence. Nothing made sense in my life, and relationships were always fragile until I found me.

Its true what they say, that the only way to find lasting love and friendship is to start with ourselves.  If you can look in the mirror each day and like and love the person you see staring back at you, not in an egotistical way, but humble and genuine, then you will live a life full of love and friendship.

I am far from perfect, but I am fixed. I am a better version of me, than I've ever known, and I owe it all to my children.I have lasting friends, the love a good man, and I am whole.

Nook Books - Raising Boys Without Men

I recently downloaded and read a book on my nook  that was a little outside of my normal genre.  It was more philosophical and self help like, and I typically avoid those readings like the plague. But this intrigued me, and as I read it I found myself in the pages and between the lines.

Raising Boys Without Men
How Maverick Moms Are Creating the Next Generation of Exceptional Men
Rodale, July 2005

Here is short synopisis: 

The book begins almost offensively by addressing the common assumptions according to society and what they term "prevailing wisdom". The theory being that a boy must be raised with a man in the house; otherwise, he's bound to be a failure. That same wisdom tells us that mothers left to their own devices will smother their sons and turn them into sissies, and that sons of unmarried mothers are destined to a life of crime.

I nearly closed my nook and deleted the download at this point, but decided to keep an open mind and see where the author was taking this. I know from life experience that this "common" knowledge is about inaccurate and untrue as is possible, so curiosity got the better of me and I waited to see where the authors committed and eluded to "groundbreaking study" would take us. Her study compared boys from female-headed households with boys from traditional mom-and-dad families.

The results were published in what she referred to as a reputable peer-reviewed journal and they were so heartening that she expanded the focus for the book to include other types of woman-headed households. Raising Boys Without Men is an examination of these boys and their amazing mothers. I cried, I laughed, and I knew I was in theses pages as I read on.

The book presented a clear and well thought out and documented rebuttal to society's "prevailing wisdom". It demonstrated evidence to the contrary, which showed that boys raised without fathers are socially savvy, generous, caring communicators, while still remaining extremely "boyish"—passionate about sports and socially adept. The study displayed maverick moms who are pioneering a new form of parenting that rejects social judgments about family structure and gender stereotype, and which stresses the importance of communication, community, and love. These brave women have much to teach us about a better way to raise tomorrow's men.
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Along with letting your child seek his own heroes and role models, there are things you can do to allow him to be male. Whether or not you have a man around to show him the ropes, your son can grow up to be an emotionally healthy male just as many boys of single moms have already done. Did you know that Tom Cruise, Ed Bradley, Alexander Haig, Bill Clinton, Alan Greenspan, Bill Cosby, Dr. Benjamin Carson and Les Brown were raised by single moms?

I took an excerpt from this author and thought I would share some tips she compiled from her own experience, the expertise of "current or retired" single mothers and single parent advisers.

1. Accept your son's differences.
2. Never make him the man around the house. True, you want to teach him to grow to be man, but there is a distinction between being the "little man" and being responsible for things that adults are supposed to do. Your child is not your confidant, your knight in shining armor or your rescuer. Especially important for the newly widowed or divorced, correct people if they suggest that now your son "is the man around the house," or that he should "take care of Mommy."
3. When you look at your child and see his father's face, it's okay to get a little emotional. After all, if your ex gave you anything of value, you're looking at it. Let your son know how important he is to you.
4. Point out the positive qualities in men you see on a day to day basis. This means that even if you're buying your son baseball shoes, and the salesman is especially attentive or friendly, point this trait out by mentioning what a helpful person he is, or "Isn't this man very nice?"
5.  Teach him your values, but let him express them uniquely. He's a male and will respond to emotional situations somewhat differently than you might.
6. Role models are important and will be found in every aspect of your son's life. Boys need men, but not necessarily fathers. Just because a father lives at home does not mean a boy is being "fathered."
7. Enjoy your time with your baby or toddler by not worrying about whether they are missing out on anything by not having "dad" around. At the same time, try not to avoid "daddy stuff" totally. Even though many children's books feature animal families raised only by mom, it's okay to read stories about all kinds of families to your child. Place a high value on male and female relationships in order to give your child a realistic perspective.

And remember, try not to have negative attitudes toward men, even if you became a single mother out of the most excruciating circumstances.

As I personally approach the end of my time "raising"  my boys and watching them become men I am proud and honored to know, I realize that being a single mom, though challenging, has provided its rewards. My relationship with my sons is unshakeable. They are strong, independent and confident young men with powerful moral compasses and good decision making skills, but they are also compassionate and gentle when necessary. My boys know right from wrong, are survivors, and wise beyond their years.  They will be good men to their wives, their children, and their friends. Contrary to the "prevailing wisdom" presented by society, they are not sissies or criminals or weak or lost. 

I am a maverick mom, a pioneer, and I am blessed.

Talking to Myself..Someone has to Listen

Driving down the street, alone in my car, I've taken to wearing my blue tooth or having an earbud in at all times. Why? you might ask......well, so that I don't look completely crazy to those who pass me by.  Here's the deal,  I talk to myself....sometimes.....o.k., frequently......alright alright, a lot.  Get off my case already, will ya. It doesn't mean I'm crazy.....Does it?

Truth is, I talk things out in my head so that I can present myself as together and well spoken and my ideas as well thought out before I blurt them.  Sometimes, taking that time, to pause, and talk it through, say it out loud, actually saves me from making a complete fool and total donkey rump of myself. You know what I'm talking about? Surely you must. You know those ideas you get or conversations you have, that make complete sense inside your mind, but in the light of day, they are suddenly flawed, irrevocably and irreparably flawed?

So I think it through, out loud to myself.  I run scenarios, and debates through the machine and find the glitch before I even truly open my mouth, in front of others.  Its my equivalent  of "think before you speak" and avoiding "open mouth..insert foot" syndrome. Its an epidemic that, if people embraced it and walked a little more on my crazy side of things, could be obliterated or at least controlled.

O.k.,  so I don't always use it as a tool.  Here is where the crazy really starts...sometimes...I use it as a way to vent. When something or someone upsets me, I vent it out alone.  I call them to the carpet. We have a come to Jesus meeting and I always triumph. Sometimes I swear, sometimes I yell, sometimes I am just brutally honest, but I ALWAYS, get it out.

Want more crazy...sometimes I talk to myself just because I hate being alone. Its not really myself, not always, I often talk to people who I have loved and lost.  My dad is a really big part of this one.  I talk to him a lot.  The really cool part about this psychosis is that sometimes I actually feel him with me, hear his answers, and know he gets it. Just as he was always there to lift me up in life, he still does even from the other side of the veil.

I talk to myself at my desk, I ask silly questions, and sing silly songs. Sometimes I laugh at silly thoughts as they run through my brain, & sometimes we have marathons of silliness.

Its crazy, I acknowledge it, but its my brand of crazy and it works to keep me sane, keep me grounded, keep me focused, and keep me happy.

Time to Shake Things Up

Ready....Set.....Go.......Here we go again, time to shake things up a teeny tiny bit. 

My landlord, the third since I moved into the house I am in a little over 2 1/2 years ago, contacted me to schedule a "walk through".  My house has been sold twice to new "investors" since I first moved in, and am accustomed to changing landlords every 10 months or so. No big deal.....I've got this. Easy Peasy.

They will be here at 9:00 a.m.   I will go into work late, so that I can be home as they walk through my personal space. Here they are.......Only...This 'investor" doesn't feel like an investor. This is different somehow. The walk through is over, but I can't shake this feeling, that this time we are not going to be able to dodge the bullet. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Nope.....I 'm home from work and why is that "investor" walking his mother around the property and showing her my home while I am not here? Ah....surprised him.  Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.  I have a feeling this house isn't about an investment but a place for mom. 

Two weeks go by, and no news is good news.  Maybe we did skip the guillotine this time....Maybe. 

Whats that...I recognize the number on my cell phone and this knot in my stomach says I really don't want to answer it but I have to. As I expected, my current landlord is terminating my lease early due to the sale. We have 60 days to vacate.  Fun.

I really hate moving, but like every change in life, in the end, no matter how afraid we are, no matter how much we resist, if we simply let ourselves go with the flow, it takes to us a better place.  We always end up where we belong. 

I know its crazy, but moving might be a good thing, even if I didn't plan for it. We can do this and the silver lining is always there. I can name at least 3 silver linings right now. 

Here we go...

1. No more neighbor sketching out and working on his cars at 3 a.m.
2. No more crazy neglectful pet adoption lady allowing her wandering dogs to dig at my fence
3. No more leaky storage shed issues ruining my holiday decorations, I might have a garage.

There is always a reason for change, even if I can't see it clearly up-front.  Everything will be fine and we will have a fresh perspective and new view.

Wish us luck as we search and apply for a new home.

Northwest Spring into Summer

Seven and half years ago I made one of the 5 biggest decisions in my life, and moved to the Northwest in an effort to reboot and begin anew following my divorce (number 4 biggest decision of my life). Other big decisions that paid off for me in one way or another include having children, getting married (yes to the same man I later divorced, because in all fairness he gave me two absolutely amazing sons..so good decision) and oddly enough my career choice is up there because it has been rewarding, fulfilling and has always kept me in employable.

Anyway.....back to the move. I moved to the Northwest for many reasons, some of which never really panned out as I had hoped for, but some worked out better than I could have ever dreamed possible and there were even a few surprise twists along the way.

The biggest surprise for me, was Jeff. What we have, and what we are, was so unexpected and so far from the realm of what I anticipated for myself when I moved here, but......sometimes life does that to  and for us.

My hopes for a new beginning took on their own crazy evolution and looking back 7 1/2 years later, I have no regrets.  My kids are happy, I'm happy, and life, though never easy or smooth sailing, is always worth the effort. We have days of calm seas, and days of wild storms, but when the skies clear, it all makes sense in the bigger kaleidoscope that is me.

One of the things I have always loved the most about the Northwest as opposed to Orange County, CA, is the distinctness of our seasons.  There is no mistaking our Fall, or Winter, or Spring, or Summer, for anything other than what they are.  The beauty of each season is unique and awe inspiring.

The colors of fall are brilliant and something straight out of a Van Gogh palette. The crunch of the leaves as they dry after they are fallen, the smell of the harvest just before winter, and the gradient shortening of the days, all remind us that another year is drawing to its close and life is fluid.

Winter is spectacular, with its blues and silvers and the crisp cold that touches your cheeks and numbs your toes but is never quite harsh enough to confine you indoors or hinder your movement. Winter attempts to bite to the bone sometimes, but never really breaks. The landscape changes, the branches are bare, and the frost covers the fields every morning. Winter reminds us that life always takes a lull, hibernates, in order to refresh and come back with fervor and hope.

Spring is wet, with just enough chill to remind you its not yet summer but no longer winter either. The barren trees spring back to life with blossoms of pink and white and the streets once again find themselves shaded in every hue of green imaginable. The air is filled with the sounds of birds and the scent of blooms, and new life is all around.

And then without fanfare or ceremony spring suddenly becomes summer. The rains recede and the skies are a bright and comforting blue with the occasional wisp of cloud. The temperatures rise and the windows are opened to allow the fresh air and a mild breeze to flow freely through. A handful of "hot" days lies ahead but most of the days are comfortable and happy. The days are long with sunsets after 10 p.m. and the sounds of frogs and crickets fill the evening air. Hammocks are all full with stargazers awaiting the Leonids or counting orbiting satellites as they slowly cut a path across the black backdrop of the clear night sky. Weekends are filled with walks along the waterfront and the smell of freshly mowed lawns. Bar-b-que wafts through the air and tummy's rumble for hamburgers and watermelon.

This is the Northwest.  This is what I love about my choice. Not just the pace of life, or the peace of home, or my wonderful friends, but the seasons. The clarity that life is grand, and ever changing, and if you blink....you might miss something wonderful.  Don't blink. 

Shadows in My Hallway

Have you ever found yourself simply reading a book or watching Game of Thrones when all at once every hair on your arms stands straight up? You know that feeling you get when you get a shiver and the prickly tingles on the back of your neck?

No not the prickly tingles when your foot falls asleep! The other ones! The ones triggered when you see something move in the shadows out of the corner of your eye.  Your'e casually relaxing one minute and the next your heart is racing and your full of panic? paranoia? wonder? what is it? What is this feeling that has you jittery and checking your perimeter every few seconds. Maybe it was someone else who is home....no...that can't be it....everyone is either in the room with you or gone.  Awwww....maybe it was one of the dogs.......no that's not it either...they are all outside running and playing in the yard, chasing ladybugs, and squirrels.

Could it be the gerbils got out?.....Nope still in the cage. The Tortoise....fat chance! Maybe shadows from the tree outside or a car driving by.....not likely. 

So what is it?  What causes those momentary shifts and disturbances? If it always happened when I was alone, I could attribute it to lonliness or fear. But it happens when the house is full of people too. A shadow crosses the hallway, or moves across the room, a shift in light and room temperature. Is it a ghost? Some poor soul trapped in the house, bound by unfinished business....maybe they can summon help? Is it one of the many spirits of those I've loved and lost, reassuring me that they are always there with me, nearby and present?

Is it simply energy, somehow compacted into a more dense field, shifting around me?  Or is it much more innocent, basic, and silly, just my imagination, running wild?

I never know. But when it happens, it wakes me up and keeps on my toes. Sometimes I say, "Hi daddy, hows it going today?".....and sometimes I imagine I can hear his answer.  That doesn't make me crazy.....does it?

For a realist, I actually enjoy tinkering in the unreal world, intangible all around us.

Do you have ghosts? What do you think it is?  Maybe it's a dust cloud.....though that would be very bad for my OCD.  :)

Even the Catholic Church doesn't Take Sainthood Lightly

This may offend some people, but its my thoughts so, don't take it personally.

I've written before about people who rewrite history so that it fits with the story they want to tell, and the message they want others to believe. It happens all the time as people tell and retell stories from their childhoods, or about that fish they caught, or the girl they dated, or the grades they achieved, or the sports they played.....or......well...you get the idea.

I am a realist, I prefer to save the fiction for that novel I still plan to write someday, but for now, I focus on reality and facts. I was recently made aware of a blog in which my mother was awarded the equivalent of sainthood. Now granted, I have not read the blog, and the interpretation is merely someone else viewpoint, but I think its important to be real.

I am grateful for my mom and the life she has given me. I love her, in my own way, and I acknowledge that, she did her best in a difficult situation.  She was a pregnant teen who was forced to drop out of high-school and marry her teenage boyfriend in the early 1960's. It wasn't the ideal start to a life she dreamed of, but she did as she was told by her father, a brimstone and fire preacher of the era. She spent the next 30 years married to that teen age boy, and together, they raised 6 children. The truth is that as much as he loved her, she was never happy.  They had some very rough times filled with infidelity, abuse, neglect, & economic strife. Neither liked each others extended family. He felt judged and diminished by hers and she felt jealous and bitter towards his. Resentment and discourse were always buried just beneath the surface.

Mom, made sure the children were always in church, always hearing the messages of heaven and hell. She thought it an important element in raising children. Religion was her safety net and what she fell back on when she needed it. She still does. I understand and empathize with her need for the church. It has always been her comfort and what feels like home to her. Its her childhood, and her parents, and the place she goes to find her center again even at the age of 70.

We grew up, by today's standards, in the ghetto. Poor. But mom always had money for enough new clothes to fill her closet, wigs for her head, jewelry for her fingers and neck, and shoes for her feet. While we wore hand-me-downs, and two pairs of shoes a year were the limit (one for church and one for play), her closet was full of clothes with tags still on them. I know it sounds negative, but the truth is, I learned how to be a better, more giving and gracious person, friend, and mother, from my mom. She provided me with examples of what I could do differently. In her own way, she equipped me to be a better woman and parent.

When my mom left my dad after 30 years of marriage for the man she is married to today, it was hard on him.  It wasn't enough to simply leave him, but she set out to destroy his spirit. She made efforts to keep his grown children from him, and he suffered greatly for it.  My mother and I were estranged for many years because of the behaviors she exhibited after she left my father. I am a grown woman who understands that sometimes love isn't enough, that sometimes people grow apart, or were never meant to be to begin with. Long ago, I accepted my mothers need to follow her heart and be with the man she had found love with, but I struggled with the vindictive gestures she made towards my father in the wake of their divorce.

Years after my fathers death, mom and I reconnected.  It was tenuous at first, but in time it got better. Where I still struggle is with the truth. Mom still plays the naive child at times. She has always known truth from fiction, and yet she prefers to hide from it. She lives her life like a flamingo, with her head buried in the sand, avoiding anything she can not face. Her affections are saved for those who play pretend with her and are willing to wear rose colored glasses. The truth is, I want to love my mom for the person and woman she really is, not the facade she puts on to avoid being accountable to her life path and choices.

I don't want to sit in judgment, but side by side. We all make mistakes, none of us are saints. It would be so much easier to relate to her and embrace her as an equal instead of an elevated hero. She was a woman with 6 children in a loveless marriage who made the best of what she had until she could bide her time and get out.  Simple truth. Its so much easier to respect and admire people who wear their skin with honor and pride.  I'm not seeking confession, but I will not wear blinders either. Pretense doesn't suit me well. I believe in owning the truth and embracing the facts. They make us stronger, more real, vulnerable, but relate-able.

Life is not easy. As mothers the best we can do is teach our children that we are fallible, rife with mistakes, but that to err is human. 

Moms I want to tip my hat to.

In honor of mothers day Yesterday,  I thought today I would pay tribute to two moms I know and admire who inspire me everyday from afar. Let me start by saying that no matter who you are, being mom is a job. It is a 24 hour career choice with limited pay, no room for advancement, and questionable health and retirement benefits.  It is rewarding, but exhausting, demanding with little time for praise and kudos.  Fact is, kudos are deserved all around to all of you, and even if I don't mention you specifically....I have profound admiration for all.

I'm going to start with a past co-worker of mine.  Ember is mom to two young boys. She works a full time job at a dysfunctional and highly stress infected bureau for the City of Portland, and yet....she is a spectacular mom. Her boys take top priority in her life and she goes the extra mile every day. Sleepless nights are often the norm, but she has a solid partner in her husband and they manage parenthood as a fully engaged team.  I'm certain from all her posts and pics on Facebook that her boys are distant relatives of Looney Toons Tazz, and with all that Irish blood coursing through their veins they are high energy, maximum output until their systems crash each night only to reboot every morning and start all over. Olrek, the youngest, has been likened to Jack Jack in the Incredibles. a likeness, that even from afar, is obvious and clear.  Ember faces each day, each challenge with courage and tenacity and she is all heart and soul when it comes to her family. Work gets their chunk of flesh out of her hide each day, but home and her boys...well nothing can ever take away from the fulfillment they bring. She may be sleep deprived for now and the foreseeable future, but she rocks it well.

My niece Lindsey is mom and military wife.  She has two children who keep her on her toes, and she does it with grace and the patience of an angel. Her husband is often gone for periods of time serving his country and protecting our freedoms, which itself deserves a tip of the hat, but that means Lindsey takes on the full front of parenting at times.  Having been a single mom to two boys for the last ten years, I know how daunting this can be.  But Lindsey never waivers. She is creative and full of the energy it takes to keep up with two children and to always remain calm even in the most stressful of situations.


Being a mom is never easy.  It is tears and laughter. Sleepless nights, meals on the run, and last minute changes. Its cartoons that don't make any sense, hand-prints on the wall, stains on the carpet, and spilled juice on your favorite book. Its cuddles, and kisses, temper tantrums, and colds. Sometimes we face it alone, sometimes we have help. But being a mom is a life style choice that never turns off. It's nuclear and it changes the landscape of everything you know.