Wednesday, March 22, 2017

What Is Enough?

There are days when the word enough slips into my mind ever so sneakily. Then there are days - like today - when it roars into my reality like a 21-year-old-me who's had one sip too many of the Sailor Jerry. You know, like trying to be oh-so-quiet but really loudly yelling "SHHHHHH!" at everyone. That's the way enough slipped karate-chopped into my mind today.

Like this morning, when everyone's getting ready in the morning and we're in a hurry because I wanted just five more minutes of sleep and hit the wrong side of the alarm. Am I packing enough in their lunch? Have they eaten enough for breakfast? Do I have enough time to get them to school by eight a.m.? (And did everyone have enough time to brush their hair? No? Alrighty then.)

Or at work, when we have one more thing to get done. Am I doing enough for my team (if not, can I bribe with Twix and Swedish Fish)? Do we have enough time to get the projects not just done, but done right? Am I planning ahead enough to give us the best opportunity at success?

Or like tonight, as I raced to get Boston Market (yum!) so that Dad and I can have dinner together at the nursing home. Did we pick the right place and does the nursing home do enough to care for him? Did I get enough for him to eat? Did it take too long for me to get dinner and if so, will I have enough time to have a really good visit with him before needing to get home? Does he have enough clothes for the week before I bring laundry back up? Does he have enough movies to watch, or books to read, or did I spend enough time with him so that he doesn't feel so alone today? (The answer on that last one is no, because I think no matter how much you visit, anyone in a nursing home is pretty lonely.)

And then that word skips over just as I walk in the door to a little girl who is sad because I wasn't home right after work, and now I won't have enough time to play dolls with her (Or bake. Or color. Or read.). It creeps in as I review my son's homework and realize I haven't spent enough time working on it with him this week (Seriously, he considers these things to be useable sentences?). And it's there again as my husband heads into the office to handle a shift after we've had literally eight minutes to talk about life, or rather who needs to be where after school tomorrow (Romance=no dirty dishes in the sink nowadays). 

Sometimes it's at volleyball practice where I'm so grateful we have three coaches for the team, because I definitely don't know enough about volleyball to have volunteered to coach (Hello 1994 eighth grade season, or as I like to call it, "The Last Time I Played Volleyball." Fun fact: I went to freshman year volleyball tryouts IN JEAN SHORTS.) And other times it's realizing I haven't sent in papers to school because I haven't spent enough time sifting through the giant pile that has accumulated on the dining room table.

Or it's when I avoid Facebook messenger because I know somewhere in there lurks a message from a friend who I've already postponed a night out with twice because I have something to take care of and I can't handle the embarrassment of not making enough time to even spend a night with her. (Love you ladies, you know who you are.)

I think that's one of our greatest concerns as mothers, as parents, as children, as friends. What makes enough enough? And what exactly is enough?

Lately, I feel like perhaps the word enough has been just beyond my vocabulary, and I wonder when he next time will be that I feel like I'm not afraid of hearing that particular word. Because right now, I'm staring at this computer wondering if I'll get enough sleep to handle enough of tomorrow.

Then I realize that somewhere in all the enough I think I'm lacking, there really is enough. Life isn't always perfect, but it's perfectly chaotic and amidst all of it, no matter how much you think you're lacking in the enough department, someone else feels differently. Like when I come to my room after my shower to find a note on my bed.

"Mommy, I love you! I know you are busy but it's because everyone needs a little bit of your love. Thank you for loving me and giving birth to me." (I love those last words - ha! You are so welcome, little one!)

Sigh. Even if I don't always have enough to give, I definitely get more than enough in return.

Happy end of the week, everyone! Here's some of her cute notes that keep people smiling ;)





Wednesday, March 1, 2017

This mom does NOT have it all together...

Someone said to me yesterday, "You really have it together with the photos and the crafting and the working." A very sweet compliment, but I hope no one takes Facebook to be a true reflection of the daily life of a person. Facebook - and all social media - are fun little avenues to express sentiments about daily life, but they are by no means all-inclusive. Because honestly - who is gonna want to hear me (or anyone) rant and rave about the 87 moments of crap and frustration that happen to a person daily between their few sweet and peppy Facebook posts?!

Let me tell you about my true day, the one you won't see on social media. 

I typically wake-up around 6:30 a.m. and proceed to the daily argument with Peyton about her uniform. The socks are too itchy or the skirt is too long or the shirt is too big. Same uniform argument every. single. morning. Same explanation every. single. morning. I don't make the uniforms. I don't make the rules. Just put the darn thing on! Then I drop the kids off - usually without remembering to make sure Peyton brushed her hair or Alex actually packed a snack but hey, the fact that they get to school on time every day counts for something, right?

On to work (where I love what I do!), and it's a full eight hours and sometimes lunch of working to get my to-do list and the "this just popped up" list done. Or started. Or re-prioritized, lol.

Rush home after work to visit dad in the nursing home, profusely thanking whoever was kind enough to drive kid 1 to an activity while hubs drives kid 2 to their activity, and maybe run an errand or two because it's two weeks later and I still haven't managed to get kid 2's sweet friend the rest of their birthday present. Yes, you read that right. Two. Weeks. Later. Sorry CarGar, it's coming. Chit chat with the nurses about how he was that day, because I want to know the people taking care of him - and I want them to know I'm paying attention.

Manage to forget one of your best friend's birthdays. Check. Sorry Linds.

Pick kid 1 up and take them home where, if they're lucky, there is food in the fridge because between everything else, we haven't gotten to the store in like, a week and a half. I seriously sent my kid to school with three different kinds of crackers for snack because I didn't have enough of any one to make a full snack.

Then it's bath time for the kiddos while hubs and I spend the 15 minutes we have before he leaves for his shift talking about what we need to get done tomorrow, usually interrupted by a kid with wet hair standing in a towel in the kitchen and crying because it's bed time and yet again, I haven't been able to play dolls with her like I promised. 

This is usually followed by a continuous stream from the kids of "Did you fill out this school form?" No. "Did you send in this check?" Forgot. "Can you help me answer this question on my homework?" Um, say what now? What kind of math is that, anyway?! "Did you remember to send the scooter to school that you've been promising the drama club teacher for the past two months?" Oh boy, no. 

On some nights during the times Dad is in the nursing home or hospital instead of home, bedtime is followed by a phone call from Dad who, unfortunately during the not-so-good days, calls because he can't remember where he is and he's scared and lonely. I remind him he's at the nursing home, and tell him if he really needs some company I can try and find someone to sit with the kids (because my step-mom's already been there for hours and same with my brother). Or, on the particularly frustrating days, I realize I'm arguing with him and shouldn't be because he can't help what he said. Yelling at your dad on his worst day? Oh, yeah, I've been there. Daughter of the year. Dad and I don't always get along or see eye to eye, but despite everything, he's still my dad and I HATE to see him suffering the way he has and I truly hate to see him in the nursing home, no matter how good the people there are. Sometimes, he's okay and he calms down with just some stories of the good old days. And on rare occasions, he just really needs someone to come back and sit there and hold his hand and watch Barney Fife tell lame jokes alongside Andy Griffith, so it's time to see if someone can just come sit with the kids for a little while.

Then to wrap up the night, I post a video on Facebook of a cute puppy or my kid's play or some inspirational quote that probably wasn't even said by the person it's attributed to, just so I have some happy sanity to the end of my day. It definitely doesn't mean I have it all together; it just means that's the only part you see. And that's okay, because no one needs more drama! I'm willing to bet a lot of people have days just like this, and they post the happy moments because isn't that what everyone on social media does? Being a mom and a wife and a daughter and a friend isn't 24/7 flowers and puppies and sunshine. But damn if we don't need all those frustrating little parts of our day to remind us to share the good moments, because those good moments seem just a little bit sweeter than usual.

Sending hugs to all the moms out there who don't have it all together - you've got this!

The Reality of Parenthood

I don't know if you watch This Is Us, but I do. Every week. Like clockwork. Maybe I relate to it because like Randall, I have anxiety. Maybe I relate to it because I'm 36 and still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. Maybe it's because it reminds me that we are all full of happiness and regret. It's probably a mix of all three of those reasons. Regardless, this scene had me a little more emotional:


It's no secret Dad's been in and out of the hospital and nursing home the past year and a half, and luckily, it's not cancer and there's no timeline looming. But it's sure made me think about a lot of things because after losing Mom, Dad's battle has reminded me of just how valuable time with your parents really is, whether the time you have left is hours or years. It will just never be long enough.

I have a new appreciation for my parents since I've had my own children. Perhaps the most important thing I've learned is that parents are not perfect. They make good choices and bad choices; they have answers and sometimes they don't; sometimes they do their best and sometimes they're just trying to get by. 

I remember being upset when Dad missed a major tournament we were in for softball in high school. As a parent, I know that sometimes we don't get to see those games not because we don't want to, but because a job or a sibling or an ailing parent takes precedence over attendance, as unwanted and unfair as that might be. And I remember the time I was angry with mom for forgetting to pick me up at ballet class; as a parent, I know that sometimes we are juggling so many balls that something falls through the cracks, and sometimes that thing is the most important part of our lives. It happens. 

As a parent, I've also learned:
  • That my own views don't always mesh with my parents, just as my views don't always mesh with my kiddos (and probably will continue that trend long into the future). That doesn't always mean they're wrong or I'm wrong; it means they were raised and then raised me to have my own thoughts and opinions. And despite our differences and our frustrations with each other, I can rest assured that they love me no matter what and vice versa.
  • Disappointment can and will happen - on both ends. There are certainly times my parents have disappointed me, and I know there have been times I've disappointed them. How we react to those times and grow and move forward is key.
  • You cherish the good times, because they are what will get you through the bad. When Dad is having tough days and nothing is going right and we're both frustrated beyond comprehension, we fall back on talking about fishing escapades and card games, funny stories or family ancestry. Those are the things that, no matter how awful we're feeling, can bring that sliver of silver lining back to the moment at hand.
  • Parents don't always do everything right. Parents are human, they (we) make mistakes. And we don't see those mistakes until years later, when we're able to look back and see how we might have done something differently. And we can only hope that we raise our children to be better than we were so that in our older years, we might be able to make memories that usurp the ones we aren't so fond of.
Perhaps this is all part of why I really enjoy This Is Us. Seeing Randall and his father put the past aside and learn to thrive in the present is a reminder that we cannot move on and find peace if we cannot let go of the past. There's always room for more laughter.

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