One Thing I Hate About Having A Daughter

Being a woman is one of the hardest things in the world. I could list a million different reasons why, but what I find is THE hardest is our image. I don't mean the way we come across, I mean flat out the way we look. What color our hair is, how smooth our legs are, what size breasts we have, our shoe size, and of course the most important to everyone....our weight.

I'll never forget the actual day I started worrying about my weight.  I may have told this story before but it's important.  I was 15 and a sophomore in high school. The guy I was dating at the time called and said he wanted to stop by and say hi real quick. Being 15, nothing made me happier than that. He pulled up in the driveway and I hopped in the passenger seat, he gave me a quick peck and then sat back in his seat. Out of nowhere he said (as he poked me in the stomach) "wow, you're putting on a little weight huh? Might need to do something about that." Now I have to say, I was notorious for dating some real douches in high school (yes mom you were right, AGAIN) but I had never really been worried or concerned with my weight until then. I was mortified and humiliated and remember going in the house and immediately getting on the scale. To clarify I was a size 5, an apparently humongous, gross, size 5. I have had a problem with my self esteem and image ever since then. All because ONE insignificant comment was made by ONE person 14 years ago. Something so small stuck with me and has managed to influence the way I see myself. This is terrifying now that I have a daughter.  

When I found out I was having the girl I wanted so badly I was elated. There was nothing that was more exciting to me. I imagined the dressing up, the barbies, the baby dolls, doing her hair and all the fun stuff. What managed to elude my mind was what she will inevitably deal with as she grows. The pressure to be a girl. To wear the right clothes, do her hair the right way, and yes even be the "right" weight. What worries me even more is that no matter how much I tell her she is beautiful, perfect, smart, and amazing she will still most likely at some point see herself the way others let her, I know because my mom tried to tell me the same things. I am 29 and I STILL have image issues, the same ones that started from that asshole in high school. I don't ever want my daughter to feel any less beautiful because of a number on a scale or on a pair of pants. 

The media, Hollywood, actors, singers models you name it always complain about the pressures of the "business", but who gives into the "business"?  They do. When are the ones that reluctantly influence our young girls the most going to take a stand on what beauty really is?  I am going to do every single thing in my power to make sure my daughter knows that no matter what, she is the most beautiful person in the world, but as long as there are teenage boys, magazines, and whatever else telling her what "beauty" is my uplifting words just might get lost, but I refuse to accept that. I refuse to let anyone influence the way she sees herself. My daughter will always know that beauty is on the inside, and only her opinion matters. I hope someday that is a trend that catches on. The big smile she wears everyday, is the same one I want to continue to see for the rest of my life. Love yourself, be yourself, and don't let anyone change the way you feel about yourself in a negative way. We are all beautiful

Parenting Karma...sorry mom

Karma. Its the one thing most of us look forward to when we have been wronged.  While the idea of it is very straight forward there are different forms of it.  There is the cheating karma, when you have been cheated on and cant wait for that no good asshole to experience it himself.  Driving karma, when the car who is far more important than you cuts you off, and all you want to see him hit the next red light, or watch him get cut off by an Oldsmobile being driven by a couple in their 80's on their way to Sunday brunch.  Those are just a few examples, but when you become a parent the ultimate karma against you is brewing, the one your parents have been waiting for...parenting karma.  If I had to try and make a definition of parenting karma it would be:  Remember what you did to your parents?  Well you're about to get it right back, and possibly worse by those little things you have been protecting.


We all remember what we did to our parents growing up.  The tantrums, coloring on the wall, screaming in public, saying "I don't love you anymore", sneaking out, lying, you can fill in your own blanks.  It was devastating to our parents, we hurt them, and even worse we disappointed them.  Oh yeah you remember how much that stung, it was the WORST to hear that.  While our punishments came in the form of no TV, no radio, no car, no boom box (WHAAAAT), no phone (land line people, land line), what our parents were secretly waiting for was for us to have kids so they could secretly chuckle under their breath.  When I found out I was having a girl I specifically remember my mom saying "Haha yes! oh I hope she is JUST like you" and not in a sweet way like I hope she has your beautiful eyes, no it was like oh I cant wait for her to drive you crazy with her teenage attitude.

While I have been dealing with some small cases of parenting karma (9 year old attitude, 5 year old talking back and 3 year old screaming throw myself on the floor tantrums) my small glimpse of what is to come surfaced yesterday.  Let me give a little back story.

When I was a super cool 17 year old senior in high school, my mom got a brand new car.  Right after she got it she went on a trip and wasn't going to take the car with her.  After some begging, promising, reassuring, and begging again she reluctantly agreed to let me take the car to school for one day.  She gave me the mom speech that I half listened to (I was 17 remember) and off she went on her trip.

That morning I checked my mirrors, clicked my seat belt, put in my No Doubt CD, and lit a cigarette ( I WAS 17 REMEMBER? SUPER COOL).  I puffed along down the road, finished it and threw it out the window.  Five second later my left thigh was burning, the cigarette had come back in a landed on my moms brand new seat, putting a nice burn mark, again on her brand new seat.  I started thinking, I was either going to run away and never come back, make up a story, or hide it.  I thought of buying my mom seat covers, but knew she was too smart for that, so I came up with a foolproof story. 
"I know you told me not to, but I picked up a friend that smoked a cigarette in the car and when he threw it out the window in came back in and landed on my seat" sounded legit to me.  She was understandably pissed off, and by no means believed me.  Cant imagine why.  She was so upset because it was this brand new car and I had gone and ruined it, every time she would get in the car she would be reminded of my careless behavior.  I don't think I was ever allowed to drive that car again. 

Yesterday I experienced my first big parenting karma.  I have been telling my 9 year old some for months not to take his bike out next to my car.  He likes to push in the handle grips exposing the metal.  I tell him EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. and he never listens.  Well yesterday he finally scratched the side of my car with his stupid handlebars, not buff out scratches either, deep metal scratches.  I was so mad I couldn't even yell at him.  In the middle of my lecture I realized I was nearly quoting the lecture I got from my mom when I was 17.  It was in that moment that I knew I am so screwed and am going to so get it the older they get.  So Mom, I'm sorry, and karma gods, please have mercy on me.
Lets just hope I never have to experience my daughter projectile vomiting in the back of my car after her bachelorette party, only to find out the bag she was given had a hole in it....again sorry mom

It Was Just Two Stores

I have been waiting for today for a few months. It is Record Store Day and there is a limited edition Metallica cassette tape that I have been wanting to snag for my husband. I called around and most places were sold out, except for one about 20 minutes from my house. My husband works Saturdays and I work graveyard Friday night so I am normally pretty exhausted when I get home and have the house and kids to myself. I have pretty much sworn off venturing out with my children alone because most of the time when we enter public they turn into monsters. Since it was a special day, and I wanted to do something special for my husband I gave it another shot. What a great idea it was.

It took 10 minutes to get out the door, kind of a record. Great start I thought. Everyone got in their seats, got buckled up and away we went. The car ride was pleasant, uneventful, and surprisingly calm. No "he's looking at me!" "I didn't bring the right pal (stuffed animal)!" Or even a "I have to peeeeee nooooow!"  

We get to the record store that has a parking lot full of merchandise. Records, collectibles, and toys. Oh great, old collectible valuable toys. The kids didn't see them so we walked into the record store to get the cassette. The store was about the size of a bedroom MAYBE 10'x10' and FULL of people. Everyone was walking all over each other and the kids decided to start playing hide and go seek, hiding being crates or records and oh you know people. In my nice voice I tried to laugh it off "oh come on guys don't do that". Nothing, just giggling and hiding. "Guuuuuys come on, get over here."  Still nothing, at this point Brody had his face about 6 inches away from some poor guys butt (a fart would have taught him a lesson). Now it was time to increase the tone, using what I call the warning tone. The warning tone is a tone slightly louder than your normal tone but with a little more clenched teeth. "GUYS, that's ENOUGH." My kids know the warning tone. They stopped and we started walking back to the car. Almost made it to the car when my 9

Year old yells to my 5 and 3 year olds "HEYYY TOYS!! LOOK GUYS! TOYS!!" Ugh thanks. I spent the next 15 minutes trying to keep them from touching everything, taking off with something (one might call it stealing) or stepping on stuff. "What can we get?" They ask. "Nothing" I reply. The two youngest start crying in unison and my oldest starts huffing and puffing "how come youuu always get something?" "I never get anything" "this is boring" "why can't I get anything?"  I didn't respond because I was trying to keep from launching into a "why can't you appreciate the things you have" speech. 

We get in the car and I spot a store I had been wanting to stop in. At a red light I turn around and look at my kids. All calm now, sitting quietly again. "Ok I can do this", I say to myself. "You got this Brittany". I pull into a parking spot, take a deep breath and get out. The kids were good all the way to the front of the store where the carts were lined up. I put my 3 year old in the front of the cart and my 5 year old on the big part of the cart. Instantly the crying started. "I wanna sit in the big kid paaaaaart WAAAAAHHHH". I should have just walked back to the car and left, but I put her in the big part of the cart and went inside.

It took about three minutes before the whining started. Being a Saturday it was packed. People were rude and blocking every aisle and it was hard to move around, because of this I had to maneuver close to the clothing racks. That of course was when the grabbing started, like my kids were playing Supermarket Sweep. It didn't matter why it was they were grabbing it and putting it in the cart. "STOP" I said between my very clenched teeth. Nothing. They didn't even take me seriously enough to stop laughing. 

I don't know if you ever stop and listen to children's conversations but I guarantee you that if they are ever going to make something up that is mortifying about you, it will be in public. While looking at the underwear and bras my 5 year old says "ooooo, I bet mommy is looking at that for her booooyfriend" as I'm wearing my wedding ring. Then in unison my 3 and 5 year old start chanting "mommy has a boyfriend, mommy has a boyfriend!"  I look up to an older woman staring at me, "ha ha kids" I say to her. She looks away. "Guys stop, I don't have a boyfriend I'm married to daddy!" I say with a nervous OMG tone. "Then who was the guy that came over while daddy was at work?" Brody (5) says in a teasing tone. "That was the guy to fix the refrigerator silly, you know that." "Noooo mommy has a boyfriend, mommy has a boyfriend!" They start chanting again  The woman looks up again this time with a judgemental look and a raised eyebrow. "It was the repair guy, heh, kids." It really was the friggen repair guy. I'm not sure why I felt the need to explain myself to the stranger but she walked away and probably called me a Hussy under her breath. 

My final straw was when my oldest grabbed a huge pair of granny pantie underwear and asked "is this too small, or just right?" "Seriously?" I asked, "I've had enough lets go."  That of course started the unison crying, "whyyyyyyy, nooooo!"  Now people all around the store were starting to look. I get in line about the same time everyone else in the world also decided to get in line and we start waiting. Like most young potty trained kids when they see a sign for a bathroom in a store they must use it. It's like kids have a secret list of all the bathrooms in the world and need to visit and use them all, no matter what. In the middle of the 18 person line (no joke I counted) Brody spots the bathroom sign. "Umm mommy? I have to use the bathroom." "No you don't Brody." "Yes I dooooo, I really really dooooo" "well you're going to have to hold it, we are too deep in line to get out." But *insert crying and loud wailing* I HA-HAVE TO GOOOOO WAAAAHHHHH I HAVE TO GOOOOOO". "Ok just a sec." "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" 

I knew I needed a distraction and luckily there were some sand toys right in front of me. I grabbed them "oooooh looooook! You guys needed these! Here you go!" Magically Brody didn't have to pee anymore (told you) and it was quiet again. Those sand toys could have been $100 and I would have bought them at that point. 

We make it to the front and while I'm unloading the cart the little ones start fighting (again). Elle ends up slamming Brody's fingers in the part of the cart where the metal collapses on itself. He of course screams bloody murder, everyone is looking at us, whispering to each other, or both. "THAT WASNT NICE ELLE! SHIT!" I say. "Yeah shit!" Brody says "shit" says Elle. 

Mom of the year right here. Have a great weekend everyone!

 

Pretty much how I felt when I got home

Last First Moments

My daughter just had her 3rd birthday and the range of emotions I have been dealing with are insane.  There are times that I can't wait for her to grow up more (mostly out of the terrible 3's), and then other times I just want to freeze her in time.  Its a feeling that I had mildly with my boys, but it is worse this time because my daughter is my last baby.

Its really weird as a woman what goes through your head when you decide you are done having children.  In my case it wasn't really MY decision, it was more my body's decision.  I just had too many problems while pregnant to even entertain the idea of another baby.  I'm not even saying that I would have had anymore, but because the option for me isn't there, it made it that much harder.

I try not to spoil my daughter, but I admit she gets away with a lot...mostly everything.  She always gets an extra cookie because of the way she says "pretty pweeeese?", we rarely leave a store without SOMETHING "special", and she sneaks in our bed at night.  While it sucks and my husband and I wake up with sore backs (or her foot in his mouth, true story) I keep telling myself that I am never going to experience this age again.  I'm never going to have a little 3 year old whispering "Mommy, can I cuddle with you?" at 2AM again.  On top of that it is all going so fast.  I cant stand it, well most days, some days I'll be honest I wish she was an adult and out of the house.

I'm sure most women go through this eventually.  I mean at some point we stop having children (yes, even the Duggars).  Even if you are totally happy and comfortable with your decision to be done, a little piece of you melts when you see a tiny baby, or a pregnant woman and realize that wont be you again.  I had my kids young too, so a lot of my friends are just starting to have kids which ALSO doesn't help.  It really is like closing a huge chapter in your life.  When my doctor told me it wouldn't be wise and potentially dangerous to have anymore I broke down.  Like I said before, I wasn't necessarily planning on having anymore kids, but someone was telling me I couldn't, and anyone that knows me knows I am not very good with being told I cant do something.  I cried driving my husband to his vasectomy, I cried on the way home, the rest of the day, and off and on for months.  I felt like my body was officially worthless and useless.  My body was no longer going to do what it was built to do.  Yes I am lucky, I have 3 beautiful children, I know that and I'm not saying that any woman that cant have kids is less of a woman, this was just my personal feeling about myself.  In fact I tried to remind myself how lucky I was to have three beautiful healthy children, but my heart was still broken.

Every first milestone my daughter made, turned me into a slobbering blubbering mess.  To me they weren't firsts, they were lasts.  Last first moments, make sense?  Every stage so far has been as heartbreaking as the first.  Getting rid of her infant car seat, bottles, onesies, putting away her highchair, even buying her underwear (OK that was a little easier, so close to no more diapers).  While singing Happy Birthday to her recently, I got choked up.  My eyes welled up but I kept it together, and didn't let anyone see.  My last baby isn't such a baby anymore.  All I can do is helplessly try to embrace the good and even bad days, and soak up what is left of my kids being little.

Its ok to say it...I just did

Being a stay at home mom, or a working mother is typically a decision that many struggle with.  Some don't have an option, but for those who do, it can take a toll.  Many years ago when I decided to be a stay at home mom, I had just had my son.  I couldn't imagine leaving him everyday to go to work.  The thought of it ate me up.  Even leaving him alone for a date night was torture, but isn't it always like that with your first baby?

After a few months it became clear that I was going to need to get a job for us to survive.  My husband and I were young and just weren't cutting it on a single salary.  I learned to deal with being a working mother and cherished my days off to spend with my son.  Over the past 8 years I have gone back and forth between working and staying at home with my now 3 children.  That being said I have to say that I think I prefer to work.

I know how that might sound, but the truth is, there are a lot of women out there who actually prefer to work versus being home all day.  At the moment I am only working a few days a week, but that is fine by me.  While it isn't the ideal choice for everyone, for me working makes me feel like I am important, like I actually have a life.  Don't get me wrong, I love my children to death, but I found that when I am strictly a stay at home mom I lose a piece of myself.  I have hardly any adult interaction or conversation (aside from my husband and phone calls) and I feel like I have only one identity, mom.

Getting dressed up, putting on makeup, and doing my hair for work makes me happy and I look forward to going (most nights).  I opted to work the graveyard shift so I can essentially do both.  I can have time to myself, make some money, talk to other adults, and then come home and be mom.  Even though I am tired, when I get home I appreciate being a mother much more, mostly because I got the chance to MISS my children.  When I am a stay at home mom things start to get to me quickly.  The whining, crying, I need this, I need that, whatever it may be.  Some moms relish in that and enjoy it, but I am not one of them.  I need a chance to be me and have time to myself.  I don't think it is uncommon for moms to feel like they have lost their identity, and at some point whether they admit it or not they all feel it, even if it is just for a second.  There were many days where I would be sitting on the couch watching some cartoon for the umpteenth time and wonder "what am I doing?" "how did I get so frumpy and predictable?"  I stared realizing that my days were EXACTLY the same.  Everything I was doing everyday was like clockwork, and it was destroying me.

When I was younger I was so unpredictable.  I went with the flow, and pretty much did what I wanted when I wanted.  I remembered times when my biggest worry was having to deal with a hangover at work, and now here I was a boring mom, in sweats, never even putting an effort into my appearance anymore.  I started to feel bad for my husband, he would come home to a stressed out, 5pm pajama wearing wife who was more excited he was home so she could get a break, than excited to actually SEE him.  Every night when the kids would go to bed I started to feel alive.  I had the weight of three children lifted off of my shoulders and could actually relax and be....me.  I should clarify that there is not really anything boring about being a stay at home mom, its hard work and nonstop.  Just when you think you have them all occupied and try to sit down it all goes up in flames.  I'm not lying when I say that being a stay at home mom is THE hardest job that exists, and maybe people like me aren't cut out for it, and I'm OK with saying that.  If I am a horrible mother for saying I enjoy being away from my kids to work then so be it, start throwing stones at me.  This isn't the 50's and we don't have to be afraid to say that some of us feel a little unfulfilled as stay at home moms.

If being a stay at home mom completes you and you are in love with it then that is awesome, but if you are someone more like me who also enjoys working don't feel bad about it.  It is nothing to be ashamed of, and you are not any lesser of a mother, and it also doesn't mean that you love your children any less.  In order for you to be a good loving mother you have to take care of yourself first, and make sure YOU are happy, and if getting a job to get away for a bit makes you happier then so be it.